About twenty minutes later, I got up and found pen and paper. I jotted words at random. I drew lines to connect them. It took an hour because I was slow and clumsy. My hands hurt too much to type so I fired up my data table and dictated quietly. It was the middle of the night. I sat in a little pool of light and changed the world.
I took what I had, awkwardly built my data stack, indexed, and colour coded. My thoughts were on fire and the words just presented themselves as I needed them. I read it through, drew a couple of organisational charts, wrote the introduction and a conclusion and sat back. Only now was I conscious of how cold and tired and stiff I felt. I read it through again and couldn’t think how to improve it any more. I headed the file, Boss – this will rock your world! – obviously not completely sober yet then – and sent it off to him.
Dawn was not far away and I was far to strung-up to sleep. I made another cup of tea and took it into the bathroom. I lay in hot water for an hour, wondering if I’d missed anything, got out and dressed in the old sweats which were all I had left. Farrell still hadn’t moved, so I checked he wasn’t dead, grabbed my battered old jacket, and quietly let myself out.
Sitting on the stairs I activated my com and called the long-suffering Peterson. It took a while but eventually his voice said, ‘What?’
‘Where are you?’
‘Strangely, I’m in bed.’
‘Get up, I need you.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘Something important and I need to speak to you as soon as possible.’
‘Dining room. Five minutes. Have coffee.’
He looked awful. Wet hair standing on end and still in last night’s rumpled clothes. I handed him coffee.
Jenny Fields, the kitchen assistant, was on earlies. I said, ‘Bacon sandwiches please, Jenny. Quick as you can.’
I took him to a table.
‘Tim, are you with me? I need you to concentrate. This is vital.’
Something in my voice must have got through to him because he took a good swig of coffee, closed his eyes briefly, and then said, ‘Go ahead.’
‘Cast your mind back to the Cretaceous.’ He nodded. ‘OK, you’re at the tree line, looking towards the pod. I’m holding up the blaster.’ I mimed holding up a blaster. He nodded. ‘I’m racing off away from the pod. There’s a bloody big lizard chasing me and the Chief and Guthrie are chasing the lizard. You get Markham into the pod. Are you with me so far?’ He nodded.
I leaned forward. ‘What happened next? Tell me everything. In as much detail as you can.’
He was such a good friend. He asked no questions. Closing his eyes, he said, ‘I got him into the pod and sat him down. I went back to the door which I’d left open because you’d be coming back in a hurry but I didn’t want anything else getting in. I could just see you ducking and diving. You were in a hollow and –’
‘Never mind me. What did you do?’
‘I stood by the door and watched. I smelled burning. Your jacket was beginning to smoulder. I stamped on it.’ He stopped.
‘Go on.’
‘I heard shouting. I looked over and everything was running back towards the pod. I grabbed your jacket off the ground, shook out the all the wood and cones, and checked around quickly to make sure everything was inside – worst FOD plod ever. I threw your jacket into the pod and jumped in after it. The three of you appeared – you fell in through the door. I went down and you landed on top of me and Guthrie fell on top of you. Someone got the door closed and said –’
‘No, never mind. That’s the bit I wanted.’
The bacon sandwiches arrived and we both realised we were famished. He cut my sarnie up for me. He had more coffee. I had more tea. He went back for more sarnies. When he sat down he asked, ‘Any chance of knowing what this is all about?’
‘Yes,’ I said and opened my hand to show him the burned pine cone. For a long while he just stared – as I had done. I watched the blood drain from his face – as mine had done. ‘Oh my God,’ he gasped. ‘Oh my God. Oh my God.’
‘Shh!’ I said looking over my shoulder as people started coming in for the early shift.
‘How did this happen?’
‘Well, I have a theory. This is what I wanted to talk to you about. Come into the Library.’ We found a quiet corner. The place was deserted anyway, but I was feeling cautious. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever said that. I spoke for about half an hour, just giving him the outline. At the end I asked ‘What do you think?’
‘Bloody hell, Max, what do I think? I think this changes everything. I think … I think we won’t be leaving in three days.’
‘No,’ I agreed.
‘When are you going to tell the Boss?’
‘I already have. I was up all night writing a proposal, outlining future developments, and restructuring his unit. He’s going to have a hell of a shock when he opens his emails this morning.’
‘Wish I could see his face.’
‘You will. This is all your doing.’
‘What?’