‘Good luck! See you later.’
After he had gone, I said, not without a bit of a wobble, ‘Computer, close the door.’ The door shut. Well, so far, so good. Across from me, Pod Three disappeared. I said, ‘Computer, confirm co-ordinates are laid in.’
‘Confirmed.’
Another deep breath. ‘Initiate jump.’
‘Jump initiated.’
There were no flashing lights, no calendars with the dates peeling away, and no dramatic music. The world went white for a few moments and then cleared. I peered out eagerly at what had to be the most un-Shrewsbury like landscape on the planet.
Green grass flowed as far as the eye could see. On the horizon, huge snow-capped mountains jutted up into a clear blue sky. I didn’t know where or when I was, but it sure as hell wasn’t Shrewsbury. It probably wasn’t Kansas, either. I’m pretty sure I said, ‘Shit!’ and switched on the other cameras, in case Shrewsbury was hiding round the corner. But there was no corner. No Shrewsbury. No nothing. Only waving grass.
I sat for a bit and had a think. After a while I said, ‘Computer; confirm date and location.’
‘Shrewsbury, England. 1408.’
‘Computer; confirm time of jump remaining.’
‘Five hours, fifty-six minutes.’
Given the socking great Shrewsbury-shaped gap in the landscape and the fact that my plans for the day had been kicked into touch, I really should go home now. On the other hand …
‘Door.’
The door opened and cold, fresh air flooded in. I stood up slowly. Standing in the doorway, I put one hand on each side of the door jamb and cautiously peered out.
In front of me, the grass rippled and shimmered in the breeze. The sun beat down from a cloudless blue sky. Apart from the hissing wind, it was utterly silent.
I turned back into the pod, paused, and then looked to the door again, considering my options. I could demand emergency extraction from the computer, which would whirl me back to St Mary’s at nose-bleeding speed almost before the words had been uttered. It’s quick and definitely not painless. That’s why it’s for emergencies only. I certainly wasn’t where I should be and it would be the cautious, the sensible thing to do. But, for God’s sake, I was an historian and cautious and sensible were things that happened to other people. I wasn’t in any danger; the worst that could happen would be an afternoon of mild tedium.
People usually only shrieked for emergency extraction when they were actually on fire or bleeding from multiple wounds. What would I say? What emergency could I declare? ‘I’m not in Shrewsbury,’ hardly seemed to cut it. What was the point of doing this if not to explore a little? And the pod wasn’t going anywhere for five hours.
On the other hand, there had obviously been a major malfunction. If I went outside and the stupid thing went off without me then I was in deep shit. Presumably it and everyone else thought I was in fifteenth-century Shrewsbury. Yes, a sensible person would definitely not go outside.
I picked up the basket and wedged it in the doorway. If the door couldn’t close then the pod couldn’t jump. Theoretically.
Standing in the doorway I took a long step outside. Nothing changed, so I took another. Even not knowing where or when I’d landed could not detract from my excitement. I was in another time! I was an historian! I held out my arms and twirled around and around. I was an historian! The sights I would see. I shouted, ‘Yes!’ turned a cartwheel, and my coif fell off.
It seemed wise to calm down a little. I didn’t want my first jump to be my last. Protocol says the first thing to do is to establish personal safety – always a bit of an optional extra for historians. I scrambled up on to the roof and revolved slowly around 360 degrees. Shading my eyes, I turned around the other way. The computer remained silent. None of the proximity alerts went off. I still had no idea where I was, or when, but this world was empty. Nothing impeded the view from horizon to horizon; nothing in the sky; no smoke; no vapour trails; not even a bird. Only the swaying grass moved in the wind. I was completely alone.
It could have been frightening, but the assignment was only for five hours and after all those years at Uni, more years post-grad work, the archaeology experiences, and then all that training at St Mary’s, I found it very pleasant just to stand, eyes closed, with the sun on my face, and listen to the silence.
After a while I decided I could improve on this so I jumped down, made myself a cup of tea, snagged a bar of high-energy chocolate from the rations locker, spread my cloak on the ground, and sat with my back against the sunny side of the pod.