understand, sir. It’s not my most favourite idea, and trust me, I am fully aware of the risks. But it won’t work with anyone else. They’ll be expecting me. And that’s their weakness.’
He sighed. I said nothing. There was no point in over-egging the pudding. He had weighed up the risks and the benefits. No one had come up with anything better. Guthrie’s suggestion for a full-frontal attack had been vetoed. Anything that left St Mary’s unprotected was off the table. This was all we had.
‘Max …’
‘I know, sir. Believe me, I’m not thrilled, either. But I can’t see an alternative.’
‘Nor I. But you’ll be completely exposed.’
I nodded. ‘That’s the whole point, sir.’
‘You’re not fit yet.’
‘I know, but I promise to keep my head down.’
‘They can hurt you badly.’
I nodded. They could. ‘Not if your idea works, sir.’
‘They might just kill you on the spot.’
I nodded again. I was trying hard not to think of that.
He still looked unhappy.
‘Sir, this is St Mary’s. We don’t leave our people behind. They won’t be surprised to see me. Disobeying orders and mounting a rescue all on my own is exactly what I’m famous for.’
He nodded. ‘Very well. Start putting things together. Liaise with Major Guthrie and Dr Peterson. Speak to Dr Foster about your face. There’s no rush for this. We have the time and space co-ordinates. Take a day or so to make sure every contingency is taken into account. Keep me updated. I’ll make sure everything is covered at this end.’ He smiled. ‘You’ll want a secure St Mary’s to come back to.’
I said, ‘Yes, sir,’ and slipped out of the room.
I had a bit of a job with Peterson. He really was not happy and, like many usually easy-going people, he was a bit of a bugger when he wasn’t happy. In fact, it was the first time I had ever seen him really angry. Ten minutes later, he had barely drawn breath.
I interrupted him. ‘Tim, this will work. We can’t stage a full-frontal because it leaves us too exposed here, but this might work.’
Help came from an unexpected quarter. Guthrie said, ‘She’s right. I can see this working.’ He looked at me. ‘Whether you’ll still be alive and kicking at the end of it …’
‘I’ll be fine,’ I said, careful not to sound boastful. Or defiant. Or scared. ‘I’m aware of the risks. None better. I promise you both I won’t do anything stupid.’
‘The whole idea’s stupid,’ said Peterson. ‘What am I going to say to Kal? Don’t tell me she won’t get it out of me in seconds. And what about Helen? It’ll be all right for you – you’ll already be dead. I’m the one who’s really going to suffer.’
Guthrie patted his shoulder. ‘Look on the bright side, Dr Peterson. You might not live that long, either.’
We don’t jump forwards. It’s not a good idea. Going back is easy because you know where and when you’re going, but jumping forwards is a very different kettle of fish. You set your co-ordinates for say, London, one hundred years in the future; but in the meantime, if the earth is destroyed by a solar flare or a meteor strike, where do you land? Limbo? The place where London would have been? Empty space? A radiation hot spot? Or would the safety protocols engage, and the pod wouldn’t jump at all? Despite the Cooper/Hofstadter papers on the subject, no one seems quite sure what would happen, and we certainly didn’t want to find out the hard way. Therefore, we don’t jump into an unknowable future.
Besides, we’re historians. The past is much more interesting.
So this was a bit of a first for us. I still wasn’t completely convinced the pod wouldn’t implode on landing.
I drew two small, silenced handguns. I had no idea what I was walking into, but I was not the important one here. The Boss still wasn’t happy with the plan. Peterson and Guthrie were definitely not happy with the plan. I didn’t blame them. I wasn’t happy with the plan
He sighed. I said nothing. There was no point in over-egging the pudding. He had weighed up the risks and the benefits. No one had come up with anything better. Guthrie’s suggestion for a full-frontal attack had been vetoed. Anything that left St Mary’s unprotected was off the table. This was all we had.
‘Max …’
‘I know, sir. Believe me, I’m not thrilled, either. But I can’t see an alternative.’
‘Nor I. But you’ll be completely exposed.’
I nodded. ‘That’s the whole point, sir.’
‘You’re not fit yet.’
‘I know, but I promise to keep my head down.’
‘They can hurt you badly.’
I nodded. They could. ‘Not if your idea works, sir.’
‘They might just kill you on the spot.’
I nodded again. I was trying hard not to think of that.
He still looked unhappy.
‘Sir, this is St Mary’s. We don’t leave our people behind. They won’t be surprised to see me. Disobeying orders and mounting a rescue all on my own is exactly what I’m famous for.’
He nodded. ‘Very well. Start putting things together. Liaise with Major Guthrie and Dr Peterson. Speak to Dr Foster about your face. There’s no rush for this. We have the time and space co-ordinates. Take a day or so to make sure every contingency is taken into account. Keep me updated. I’ll make sure everything is covered at this end.’ He smiled. ‘You’ll want a secure St Mary’s to come back to.’
I said, ‘Yes, sir,’ and slipped out of the room.
I had a bit of a job with Peterson. He really was not happy and, like many usually easy-going people, he was a bit of a bugger when he wasn’t happy. In fact, it was the first time I had ever seen him really angry. Ten minutes later, he had barely drawn breath.
I interrupted him. ‘Tim, this will work. We can’t stage a full-frontal because it leaves us too exposed here, but this might work.’
Help came from an unexpected quarter. Guthrie said, ‘She’s right. I can see this working.’ He looked at me. ‘Whether you’ll still be alive and kicking at the end of it …’
‘I’ll be fine,’ I said, careful not to sound boastful. Or defiant. Or scared. ‘I’m aware of the risks. None better. I promise you both I won’t do anything stupid.’
‘The whole idea’s stupid,’ said Peterson. ‘What am I going to say to Kal? Don’t tell me she won’t get it out of me in seconds. And what about Helen? It’ll be all right for you – you’ll already be dead. I’m the one who’s really going to suffer.’
Guthrie patted his shoulder. ‘Look on the bright side, Dr Peterson. You might not live that long, either.’
We don’t jump forwards. It’s not a good idea. Going back is easy because you know where and when you’re going, but jumping forwards is a very different kettle of fish. You set your co-ordinates for say, London, one hundred years in the future; but in the meantime, if the earth is destroyed by a solar flare or a meteor strike, where do you land? Limbo? The place where London would have been? Empty space? A radiation hot spot? Or would the safety protocols engage, and the pod wouldn’t jump at all? Despite the Cooper/Hofstadter papers on the subject, no one seems quite sure what would happen, and we certainly didn’t want to find out the hard way. Therefore, we don’t jump into an unknowable future.
Besides, we’re historians. The past is much more interesting.
So this was a bit of a first for us. I still wasn’t completely convinced the pod wouldn’t implode on landing.
I drew two small, silenced handguns. I had no idea what I was walking into, but I was not the important one here. The Boss still wasn’t happy with the plan. Peterson and Guthrie were definitely not happy with the plan. I didn’t blame them. I wasn’t happy with the plan
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