Day 15 ended. I pulled out the scribble pad and thought about leaving details of whom I was and why I was here, in case my remains should ever be found. Bugger it. Let them guess.
I had a sudden, heartrending vision of the Chief, sitting alone with a mug of cold tea by his side and really did have to blink back a tear of self-pity. Would my name go up on the Boards? I wasn’t technically an historian yet. It might not count. I sat outside with my arms around my knees and thought gloomy thoughts. I’d just closed my eyes when I heard a click, a hum, and the entire console lit up like the Christmas display in Oxford Street. Lights flashed, requiring a response.
I scrambled to my feet, tripped on my skirt, and rushed in to look. The readouts seemed normal, the countdown held at 4, awaiting confirmation to continue.
For a moment, I thought I might faint. I sat heavily and waited for my innards to subside. Pulling myself together, I shut the door; kicked lockers closed, rolled up the sleeping module, and splashed water on my face, all in about thirty seconds. I sat down, ordered my heart to slow down, and activated the countdown. The world went white, a slight bump, and I was home.
Oh God, I was home!
Peering through the screen, I was amazed to see St Mary’s carrying on pretty much as normal. Didn’t these idiots know what I’d been through? Then I sat back. Of course they did. I’d never been in any sort of danger at all. Well, if they could play it cool then so could I. I activated the decontamination unit and sat back while the cold, blue light worked its magic.
I saw the Chief crossing the floor with a mug of steaming tea. He knocked on the door.
I called, ‘Who’s there?’
After a pause long enough for the word ‘cocky’ not actually to be spoken aloud, he said, ‘Room service.’
I laughed and opened the door. He handed me the tea and began to shut things down. Outside, I could see his crew plugging in the umbilicals.
‘How did it go?’
‘It was fine. Ate, read, worked on the tan. Thought about St Mary’s best kept secret. I’m impressed, I’m really impressed. I didn’t have – none of us had – the slightest idea about this. How has St Mary’s kept this quiet over the years?’
‘Everyone who thinks about it sees the benefit of keeping it quiet. It’s the most valuable test we have; and the most nerve-wracking, for us, as well as for you.’
‘This is fantastic tea.’
‘How long ago did you run out?’
‘Two long days ago.’
‘We were spot on then. We have to try and gauge it so you’re close to running out of supplies but haven’t yet struck out across country to search for help. When were you planning to go?’
‘I wasn’t. I knew you wouldn’t let me starve.’
‘No one likes a smart arse.’
‘Does this mean I’ve failed?’
‘No, Miss Maxwell, it means you’re top of the class.’
Yes! My future stretched happily in front of me; back to the past.
‘How about the others? Are they back yet?’
He frowned. ‘Grant activated his emergency extraction as soon as he realised he was where he shouldn’t be, which is, of course, the correct procedure. Nagley came back when her console failed. I’m sorry to say she wasn’t very calm and has subsequently left the unit.’
‘She’s gone?’
‘She couldn’t wait. She had a fairly tense conversation with Grant and left immediately.’
‘Did she leave a message for me?’
‘I’m sorry, no.’
I was hurt. We’d been together a long time and she was the only other girl. I’d liked her. And she’d left without even a goodbye.
‘Sussman says he worked it out, but demanded emergency extraction after five days, claiming boredom. He exited his pod, thumped the first technician he came across who happened to be Mr Dieter and so spent the rest of the day in Sick Bay recovering consciousness. You’re the last back.’
‘Is that good or bad?’
‘It demonstrates a certain mind-set.’
I chugged back the tea and set out for Sick Bay and the more than scary Dr Foster. If there is an opposite of a good bedside manner then Helen Foster has it.
‘Come in, Maxwell.’ She activated a data stack, went to sit on the window sill, and rummaged in her pockets, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. She lit one.
‘Have you ingested or imbibed anything other than standard rations?’
I looked pointedly at the smoke detector. ‘No.’
‘I took the battery out years ago.’ I got the feeling Chief Farrell was fighting a losing battle with smoke detectors and fire alarms. ‘Have you had sexual relations or exchanged bodily fluids with anyone outside this timeline?’
‘Sadly, no. Nor anyone in this timeline either.’
‘Too much information. Have you received any injuries, wounds, broken your skin, have a rash or skin lesions …?’ And on and on. After a while, she flipped her dog-end out of the window. There was a squawk from outside.