‘It is proposed to divide this unit into three sections. The first will continue and build on the work already started. Members of this section will be known as Pathfinders. Your job,’ I said, speaking directly to the back rows, ‘will be just that: to find the path. You will establish, visit, and confirm co-ordinates for key historical events. In many instances, you will be the first on the scene. It will be your job to structure and maintain our Time Map. You will be called upon, as you become more experienced, to assist in other operations. You will also participate in the training of other Pathfinders. Congratulations to you all – you just got promoted.
‘The second section will be responsible for policing the timeline and identifying any anomalies. There will be high levels of interaction and it’s not a place for the faint hearted. In addition to the normal hazards of the job, there will almost certainly be hostile interference from the future. You will all remember our recent successful efforts in the Cretaceous period. Make no mistake people, we were lucky. No permanent damage was done, at least not to us. In future, we will have to be more careful. We are not the only people out there and they don’t give a rat’s arse about the time continuum so long as there’s a profit in it somewhere. This stupidity endangers us all. This section will not be permanent, but will be established as needed. It goes without saying that this section’s requirements will always take priority over any existing commitments.
‘The third section, as I previously mentioned, will devote itself to search and rescue. This will be our main role in the future and it concerns the whole unit. Let’s take, for example, the Library at Alexandria. Imagine us jumping to try and save the contents of the Great Library there. Personnel for this assignment would consist of at least one historian to make the tea, security staff trained in fire fighting techniques, together with members of our research team to advise on what to save. And it won’t stop there. We’ll need medical staff with us, archivists who can advise on the best ways to conserve this material and someone with archaeological experience to advise where to hide it. Think about it, we can’t bring stuff back here and risk any modern contamination. It all has to be dealt with in situ, stored and hidden away until, and this is the genius bit, we tip off Thirsk. They mount an expedition based on the info we pass them and make the archaeological find of the decade. Maybe even the century. And once we’ve done that a couple of times our reputation will be such that they’ll go wherever we direct them, instead of vice versa and we’ll never, ever have to worry about funding again.’
I paused for breath. I’d never known them so quiet. I know no one ever dared interrupt the Boss in mid-flow, but I’d expected a bit of heckling at this point.
‘Now I know this is not what some of you signed up for. You’ve seen this unit go through historians like laxatives through a short grandmother. Let me say now, there is no compulsion here; if you don’t want to do this then that’s fine. I personally guarantee there will be no comeback. All of you have a think about it. Talk to your section heads and –’
‘I’ll go,’ said Dieter, standing up.
‘Well, you’ve got a short memory,’ I grinned. ‘The last time we spoke you swore you wouldn’t even use the dining room if I was there!’
‘Yeah, well, if you’re not driving I should be OK,’ he said. ‘But yes, I want to do this. Put my name down.’
Others stood up. This was encouraging. It got better. Professor Rapson waved a printout.
‘I’ve put together ideas for future rescues,’ he said. ‘Some big, some small and I’d certainly welcome suggestions from anyone else.’ Excited chatter broke out.
‘The lost bit of the Bayeux Tapestry.’
‘Aristarchus’s book on heliocentric theory’
‘What?’
‘That bloke who said the earth went round the sun.’
‘Oh.’
‘Tons of stuff by William Blake got lost.’
‘Or what about Homer’s Margites?’ I said, becoming temporarily distracted; always a hazard for historians.
And then to one side, I saw Jenny Fields. Her lips were moving, but she was such a quiet thing I couldn’t make it out. ‘Shut up, you lot,’ I shouted. ‘What is it, Jenny?’
‘Dodos. We could bring back dodos.’
And that was the moment. That was the moment when the true potential of all we could achieve became apparent. That was the moment when everyone’s imagination took flight and we became unstoppable.
Chapter Sixteen
Dieter frowned. ‘If we did go to Alexandria then we’d need something bigger than a normal pod. Something that could sleep up to say, ten people and provide a practical working space.’
‘And carry equipment,’ added someone.
‘And storage,’ said someone else from R & D. ‘Suitable containers for storing scrolls long term. And either some sort of resin or gum to seal them, or the wherewithal to make some.’
‘Tar. How about tar? The Dead Sea Scrolls were sealed in earth jars with tar.’
‘But it can’t be too large. It still has to be relatively inconspicuous. We don’t want something the size of the Town Hall. We’re not talking Thunderbird 2 here.’
The Chief joined in. ‘We could still have something larger, but it could be serviced by normal pods bringing supplies, equipment and relief personnel in and out; like a shuttle service.’