Arcadia (16 page)

Jay knew that already; Henary had gone out of his way to explain it. The magnitude of his foolishness now swept over him. Nothing could save him from – what? Henary would be humiliated; to have a student fall from grace in such a spectacular fashion would be a blot on his reputation that would never be forgotten. Jay’s own name would be erased from the college roll, his story obliterated from memory. How could he have done anything so stupid?

In the time he took to think this, one of the soldiers had walked up to him and whipped out a rope, which he fastened around his neck – not tightly, but impossible to throw off rapidly. No chance of making a dash for freedom now.

‘Right. Two ways of doing this. Peaceful and helpful, or kicking and screaming. Which do you prefer?’

‘I’ll be peaceful,’ Jay said. ‘I’m not afraid. When my master hears about this …’

‘You’ll get the worst beating of your life,’ the soldier completed for him.

‘Then you’ll go to the tribunal,’ added another.

‘Stop the talking,’ called the man who was, Jay presumed, the sergeant in charge of the little platoon. ‘We’ve got the other one to catch as well.’

‘What other one?’ Jay asked. ‘There isn’t anyone else. I’m quite alone. I left my servant by our camp, outside the domain. You may not touch him.’

‘Quiet. You two’ – he gestured at the two soldiers who had appeared behind Jay – ‘back to your places. Whistle when you hear something.’

Ten minutes later, the whistle floated softly through the trees.

16

A day after Angela’s disappearance, Hanslip’s various damage limitation committees presented their findings. Some progress had been made in wiping out all suggestions that the damaging power surge had originated with them. None, however, had been made in analysing Angela’s machine and establishing if it had been used in earnest.

‘Why the hell not?’ Hanslip snapped. The strain of the last day was beginning to take a toll. It was so rare for him to display any emotion that the unfortunate target of his frustration fell silent.

‘That was the point of the surge,’ another said tentatively. The electricity had coursed through their systems, burnt through their defences and not only erased all the data but also wiped out any trace of whether the machine had been used. Before it could actually damage the machine itself, it had been diverted into the outside world, where it had caused havoc.

‘There is one other thing,’ this second man said. ‘I spent half a day checking the records in the computing department. It seems that all the data was copied out at noon the previous lunchtime. So presumably a copy of it does still exist somewhere.’

‘Why would she do that? She had the information in her head already.’

There was no answer. Hanslip turned away from them in disgust. ‘So now we know what we are dealing with. This is terrorism on a huge scale. Perhaps someone here has something helpful to say? Mr More? Have you found her?’

‘I am limited by the fact that you do not wish anyone to know we are looking,’ Jack replied. ‘Unless you change your orders,
I cannot put out a general alert, or search records to see if she checked in anywhere or bought anything. I can’t examine surveillance material. If I could do that …’

‘No. The fewer people who know the better.’

‘Then I will have to go the slow way round. I intend to travel south, so I can contact old friends in security and make unofficial enquiries. I plan to leave as soon as possible.’

Hanslip nodded. At least someone was taking the initiative. ‘Anything else?’

‘Yes,’ Jack said, handing over the piece of paper Angela’s assistant had pushed into his hand as he was heading for the meeting. ‘I was asked to give you this by Mr Chang. He was unable to make an appointment, as he is insufficiently senior to talk to you directly.’

Hanslip looked curiously at him, then unfolded it.

1960
, it said.

*

Hanslip summoned Chang the moment the meeting broke up; he had to wait outside until everyone else had gone and only Jack More remained. The director waved the piece of paper at him: ‘Well? What does this mean?’

‘There is a trace in the historical records for 1960 which matches Angela Meerson. So I thought it important to tell you.’ He had the tone of a man who thought he was perhaps making an enormous mistake. In truth, he was somewhat overawed by being in the same room as the man he had only ever seen before from a distance.

‘Did anyone ask you to make such a search?’

Chang blushed a little. ‘Mr More here asked me to see if I could think of anything. Data analysis is my speciality, you see, and the techniques are as easily applied to historical records as anything else. So I thought …’

‘I see. How did you come to this conclusion?’

‘Conclusion might be too strong,’ he replied. ‘I was just experimenting. I know of the theories – her theories, if you see what I mean – and just wanted to check. You know, see if she really had gone to a parallel universe. If she turned up somewhere I could find her, then obviously she hadn’t.’

‘And?’

‘Well, I began by assuming that she does not change her name; I had to start somewhere. So I ran a search for every record with someone of that name in the period after 1700.’

‘Why then?’

‘It’s when the records became good enough. I identified 1,639 individuals. After 2034, when global biological identification became compulsory, it was easy enough to prove that no one recorded was her. I eliminated all those who died before the age of twenty-five, as well as women who had children, as this was a capability she had removed eighteen years ago, and finally took out those who died of a communicable disease she could not have contracted, and I was left with twenty-one people.

‘One of these stands out. In 1960, there is a footnote in an article which states simply, ‘My thanks, as usual, to Angela Meerson for her help with translations.’ That is all, but the languages referred to are Serbo-Croat, Finnish and Sinhalese, which is a very unusual combination. Angela took a full language suite with her, including those three.

‘Significantly, in my opinion, there is no other trace of this individual. There is no birth or death certificate. No parents or siblings. She never fell ill. Never went to school, never paid tax. She may have changed her name to keep out of sight, but there is no trace of her marrying – women then used to adopt their husband’s name.’

‘Why?’

‘No idea. The point is that there ought to be abundant traces. Now, it seems that some personal papers of the man who referred to her still exist, so I would recommend examining them. I haven’t had the time to be completely certain.’

‘I don’t have time either,’ Hanslip interrupted. ‘This is nonsense. You are peddling this rubbish about time travel that she was obsessing about. You know full well that Angela is not to be listened to when she is in one of her states. Did she tell you to undermine me and sow doubt? Is that what’s going on here?’

‘Of course not.’

Hanslip glared at him, then relaxed. ‘I will consider what you say,’ he said in a more even tone. ‘Come to my office in an hour.’

*

More was waiting in the corridor when a very frightened Chang presented himself as instructed. He was not pleased. It was obvious to him that efforts to cover up the debacle of Angela’s disappearance were becoming increasingly illegal and risky. He did not greatly appreciate being drawn into other people’s disasters.

‘A second-grade security officer and a junior researcher with a blot on his file,’ Chang observed. ‘Things must be bad.’

‘If anything goes wrong, then it will be useful to blame people like us. How do you fancy global notoriety as a terrorist ringleader?’

‘That makes me feel better.’

‘It is amazing how the heresy of individualism resurfaces when there is a jail sentence in prospect.’

‘Don’t worry, gentlemen.’ Hanslip’s voice echoed around them as the man himself came strolling down the corridor. ‘You are both much too useful to be thrown away at the moment. You may have to fill that role eventually, but not yet.’

He led the way into his office and asked them to sit. ‘Thank you for your efforts, both of you. I’m afraid I do not know you very well, Mr Chang,’ he continued, as though this was somehow the researcher’s fault. ‘You have been here for about a year, is that correct?’

‘Yes. I was a …’

‘Just answer the questions. In your time as a renegade you
spent long periods cut off from all electronic assistance?’

‘Yes. It was very strange, to start off with.’

‘You experienced no unfortunate consequences? No insanity, no delirium? No mental instability?’

‘I was certainly disoriented. It’s a most peculiar feeling to be without the chatter in your head, to sleep without adverts popping up in your dreams all the time. Once you get used to it, it can be quite pleasant.’

‘What about you, Mr More?’

‘Once. When I suffered an injury. I did not enjoy the experience.’

‘I see. Now, Mr Chang. You base your conclusion on one solitary line of print, is that correct?’

Alex nodded. ‘In an article written by a man called Henry Lytten, who lived in Oxford. He was born in 1910, died in 1979. I now have a copy of the document, if you wish to look at it. As I said, it was published in 1960.’

‘There is no other evidence?’

‘You must bear in mind that quite a lot of documentation from that period was lost. Finding this was remarkably good fortune.’

‘So it would seem,’ Hanslip said drily. ‘What was the article?’

‘I haven’t read it yet. It was called “Rosalind as the Universal Ideal:
As You Like It
in the Wider World”.’

Hanslip looked at him blankly.

‘I have no idea either,’ Chang said. ‘However, Shakespeare was quite well known.’

Hanslip cut him off. ‘Then we must investigate your lead, must we not? We are hardly spoiled for other options.’

‘Certainly. I thought that if I went to the Depository …’

‘Mr More can do that. But only visual confirmation will settle the matter conclusively.’

There was a long silence after this, as both men tried to figure out what he was saying.

‘Solid proof,’ Hanslip explained. ‘Someone must go and check.’

‘What? Who?’

‘You, of course. Who else?’

‘Me?’ Chang said, his voice louder and with a touch of panic in it. ‘How?’

‘The same method you seem to imply she used. The machine. Or do you now want to withdraw your findings?’

‘Well, no. I mean, the reference is there.’

‘Good. I like a man who stands by his opinion, whatever the consequences.’

‘Making a suggestion is one thing –’

‘Besides, I’m not asking. I have decided and I have the authority to dispose of you as I see fit. You worked with her, she may well trust you. If indeed this reference is to her, then you are the best person to find and approach her.’

Chang scarcely reacted; Jack studied him carefully as Hanslip talked. He was not frightened, although that, surely, would have been justified. He seemed more alarmed at having to talk to Hanslip than he was at the prospect of being used in such a way. He said nothing, so Hanslip, the matter settled as far as he was concerned, passed on to the next topic. ‘You have an appointment in implants in an hour. We will make sure you are properly equipped. Don’t worry about that.’

*

After the meeting, Jack continued his investigations into Angela’s disappearance and spent the afternoon in his little office, going through old files and records. It was dull and profitless work, and in the evening he took a break and went to find Alex Chang once more. He found him in implant maintenance, sitting on a table looking delirious.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked.

Chang had an asinine smile on his face from the anaesthetics used when they drilled a tiny hole in his skull. ‘
Assez bien, mais j’ai pas dormi,’
he began, then stopped.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Jack asked as a look of alarm passed over
the man’s face. He opened his mouth, then shut it again.

‘New additions,’ a technician standing behind him whispered. ‘Not properly absorbed yet.’

‘Oh. I see. Do you have a sort of buzzing in your head? I remember that from when I had my legal codes updated.’

‘Ja, es ist sehr ärgerlich.’

‘That’s the briefings, probably,’ the technician continued. ‘We loaded everything we had. Bit of a rush job, though. It may give you a few headaches until it settles in,’ he said in a loud voice in Chang’s ear. ‘We gave you a full set of European languages, and you’ll have to learn to control them. Try to speak in English. Otherwise you’ll just hop from one language to another at random.’

‘That’s what’s wrong, is it?’

‘We’ve given you news reports, maps, guidebooks, various technical manuals. Not a comprehensive selection, I’m afraid, but there should be enough to help you out. All put into your memory so it can be recalled at will. Just think of a question, and the answer will appear. I think. We didn’t have time to test it properly.’

Chang shook his head. ‘I’m all confused,’ he said. ‘It’s a very odd feeling, this. What was it? It was important.’

‘Well?’

‘Give me an hour. It may be my head will clear by then. I needed to talk to – what’s his name? The man in charge.’

‘Hanslip?’

‘That’s the one.’ Chang pursed his lips in determination. ‘That’s right. I need to see him. I found something else. It’s important. I mean, this whole idea …’

‘One more thing,’ the technician said. ‘When we send you, you are likely to be disoriented. At least, the bluebottles we’ve experimented on went completely crazy for a while, and simulations suggest a high likelihood of memory loss, confusion, even temporary madness. So we have linked some of your more important memories to another part of your brain to ensure you
can remember who you are and why you are there. All you have to do is find them. The memories are associated with food. So when you arrive, the first thing you will need to do is eat something. All right?’

*

Two hours later, Chang got his third meeting with Hanslip in twenty-four hours and launched immediately into his final argument. ‘The thing is,’ he said with an air of desperation, ‘that I got hold of as many of this man Lytten’s publications as I could find, to see if there were any other references to Angela Meerson. I thought that if I could find something, then you would see that I wasn’t trying to deceive you.’