It was at this point that the unwashable-offness of the blue dye had become apparent. Apart from that, beamed Mr Markham, it was generally agreed by everyone that this one had been a stonker.
Twenty-four hours later, most of the unit was still blue and likely to remain so. A variety of soaps and cleaning fluids having proved inadequate, it seemed dermabrasion might be the best way to go. I described a scenario in which Mr Strong’s floor-sander and I played leading roles.
‘Calm down, Max,’ said Peterson, after Markham had departed, thereby reducing the number of Smurfs in the room by fifty per cent. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘The problem is that the biggest assignment of our lives draws ever nearer. Our first big briefing is next week. I have a ton of stuff on Wilusa that I need to look through. I’m putting together a series of lectures to the technical and security sections on the fall of Troy and Chief Farrell wants to talk to me about Number Eight. Again. I really don’t have time to escort an elderly professor around 17th-century Cambridge just because I’m the only non-blue person in the building. How long before this stuff wears off?’
‘No idea. It’s been over twenty-four hours now. I think it’s starting to fade, don’t you?’
‘No.’
‘What? Not at all?’
‘No.’
He scrubbed his face with his sleeve and inspected the result. Along with the rest of the history department, he wore a blue jumpsuit so the general effect of blueness was overwhelming. The IT section, who wore black, looked like giant bruises. The technical section, with their orange suits and blue faces, could probably be seen from all three space stations.
‘Not even just a little?’
‘No. Just who is this Professor Penrose, anyway? And what does he have to do with us?’
‘Oh, you’ll love him, Max. He’s a really decent old buffer. He did a lot of the background science stuff when the Boss was setting up St Mary’s and now, finally, he’s retiring, and the Boss is giving him this jump as a going-away present. Apparently, his big ambition has always been to meet Isaac Newton – a big hero of his – and the Boss said yes. So, tomorrow, a quick dash to seventeenth-century Cambridge and a glimpse of the great man. Nothing to it.’
‘Aha!’ I said, indulging in Olympic standard straw-clutching, ‘I’ve already done that period. In 1666 I was in Mauritius chasing dodos, so I can’t go. Oh, what a shame.’
‘No problemo. The jump’s set for 1668. No cause for alarm.’
I sighed.
‘It’ll do you good. You’ve been head-down in research for months. You could do with a break. It’ll be a nice day out for you.’
‘I’ve just had a nice day out. And look what that led to. God knows what will happen if I disappear again. I’ll probably get back and –’
‘Oh, come on. You’re just miffed because you had to go to that presentation at Thirsk while we were all having fun here. You’ll enjoy it. You know you will. And honestly, Max, he’s a super old codger. You’ll love him.’
*
He was right. I fell in love with Professor Penrose on sight. Actually, I think it was mutual.
He bounded from his seat as I entered the Boss’s office, bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement. He wasn’t much taller than me, but had a girth which suggested many good university dinners over the years. His simple child-like enthusiasm for everything made him appear considerably younger than his actual age. I put him in his late sixties. I later discovered he was seventy-six.
Dr Bairstow, Director of St Mary’s and a man who had certainly never bounded in his life, made the introductions.
‘Dr Madeleine Maxwell, may I introduce Professor Eddington Penrose. Professor, this is Dr Maxwell, head of the History department, who will replace Dr Peterson who is sadly … indisposed.’
‘Eddie, my dear, call me Eddie. I’m delighted to meet you. So much prettier than the other one, although he was quite charming, of course. I gather he’s turned blue.’
Dr Bairstow said nothing in the way that only he can.
‘I’m afraid so, Professor, so you have me instead.’
‘Excellent, excellent,’ he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘I can’t wait. Do you really think we’ll see him?’
‘I’m confident of it,’ I said, confidently.
The Boss intervened. ‘Dr Maxwell, I assume Dr Peterson has given you a full briefing.’
‘Indeed, sir. We’ll arrive around noon and hope to catch a glimpse of the great man either coming or going from his midday meal.’
Unless he was skulking in his rooms sticking pins in his eyes, of course. I probably shouldn’t mention that.
‘This is so exciting! I can hardly wait.’
His enthusiasm was infectious. I remembered my own first jump, now many more years ago than I cared to recall. I too had bounced around St Mary’s, full of myself. I pushed aside my reservations about taking a civilian on a jump and invited him to dine with me that evening.