‘A long time ago, in the future, shortly after we had qualified, L – Leon was summoned to the Director’s office. We both knew we were being groomed for something different. With his engineering background, Leon’s training had been technical, and mine was administrative. I’d been shadowing the Director for six months.
‘Anyway, we thought that we were finally going to get some answers, but it turned out to be something completely different. A couple of small jumps.
‘Firstly, to a set of co-ordinates that no one knew anything about. Apparently, there was a Standing Order, which had been handed down from Director to Director over the years. On this date, send this historian to these co-ordinates and render whatever assistance is required. That was it. That was all we had to work with.
‘The second was even more ambiguous. Another set of co-ordinates and an object to be delivered. Again, that was it. No further information.
‘I should perhaps say that Leon, in those days, was a most unhappy man. Still grieving, sullen, and resentful. I don’t know if he ever spoke to you about his early days at St Mary’s, but the wounds of his family’s death were still very raw. Every day, every moment, I think, was painful for him. He certainly gave me the impression he was only there because he had nowhere else to be. Anyway, he was very unimpressed with these assignments. Apparently, he was still muttering as he climbed into the pod.
‘I don’t know what happened on that jump. Nobody knows what happened on that jump and he’s never spoken of it. He’d been damaged before, but when he came back he was defeated. Finished. You could see it in his eyes.
‘I attended his de-briefing with the Director. Using the fewest possible words, he described how he’d gone, done what was needed and come back again. That, as far as he was concerned was that. He had reached the end. He was looking for an opportunity to leave. Not just the room, but St Mary’s as a whole. And possibly life itself.
‘I think that must have been what prompted our Director to move the schedule up a little and start the initial briefing for the mission to send us back to this time. Leon reached for the first file, which just happened to be yours, Max, and opened it up.’
He opened my file as he spoke. In a clear pocket on the inside cover was my official photo – a larger copy of the one on my ID card. He pulled it out and looked at it thoughtfully.
‘This is the photo that Leon saw. The Director was speaking, but he wasn’t listening. He took this out, looked closely, turned it over, and read something on the back. And from that moment on, he was a changed man. Something lifted. He couldn’t wait to start on the assignment.’
He turned it over. Nothing was written there.
‘Do you have any ideas?’
I was mystified. ‘None, sir.’
‘Ah well.’ He tucked the picture back in its pocket. ‘I just wondered. I daresay we shall never know now.’
He paused. ‘And finally …’
I stiffened. And finally … what …?
‘I have a proposition for you to think about. I do not require an answer at this stage. You may take your time and consider your options.’
He sighed. ‘I shall not be here for ever. It is time I started to give thought to my successor. Please do not be alarmed.’
‘Too late, sir, I am alarmed. I can’t imagine St Mary’s without you. I certainly can’t imagine working at St Mary’s under another Director.’
‘Let me reassure you on both counts. I do not intend to leave St Mary’s for some time yet and you will have no difficulty working with my successor. It would have been Leon, of course, but that’s not possible now. I have in mind, when the time comes, to appoint Dr Peterson.’
‘An excellent choice, sir.’
‘You could work with him?’
‘I could indeed. So could everyone.’
They could, too. Peterson was a brilliant choice. His management style was far enough from Dr Bairstow’s for him to have his own identity. Everyone liked him but he still commanded respect. He would be perfect.
‘As for you, Max – I would like you to consider accepting the post of Deputy Director. Now. Or at least in the very near future. You would, in effect, be responsible for the day-to-day running of the unit, while I, and then my successor, can concentrate on bigger issues. You would act as a bridge between the old regime and the new. Dr Peterson will supply the leadership required, but you, you will provide the continuity.’
I sat stunned. Deputy Director? Me? And Peterson? The new Director one day? Did he know? Was this imminent?
‘Not for a few years yet,’ he said, reminding me yet again that I don’t have a poker face. ‘Please, take some time to think about what I have said.’
I shivered. Suddenly, it was all too much. Leon’s recent death. This sudden revelation. In less than twenty-four hours, everything was up in the air. The chill wind of change was blowing through St Mary’s.
‘I’m sure I know the answer to this one, Dr Maxwell, but do you have a corkscrew?’
Does the pope shit in the woods?
He held up his glass. ‘To absent friends.’
‘To absent friends.’
It was good stuff. Leon would have approved.
I sipped carefully. Something was required of me and I wasn’t sure what.