Arcadia (72 page)

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Authors: Iain Pears

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‘I might, if I could think of anything better. What date am I going to?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘Have you seen Hanslip?’

‘I have. He does not wish to go. He also said that he understands what you are doing and wishes you luck. And that you can count on him. What does that mean?’

‘Are they going to kill him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then it means that he has grasped that it doesn’t matter if they do or not. He is going to die anyway if he doesn’t come with me. Why don’t you come instead?’

‘You must be joking.’

‘I really do know what I’m doing.’

He eyed her curiously, trying to understand what she was saying.

‘Won’t you trust me?’ she added. ‘It’s important. I cannot tell you why.’

He hesitated, then shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘You’re a renegade. I don’t share your opinions or values, even if I do not object to them as much as most people do. Besides, everything I want is here. I am secure, I have proper privileges for the first time in my life. I have a place and a value. I know that doesn’t mean much to you, but it is all I want.’

She nodded. ‘I suppose. Still, I tried. Let’s go back.’

*

Jack had seen it all before, but while the transmission of Alex Chang had been low-key and without ceremony, this time it was done with considerable fanfare. It was recorded, for one thing, so that in due course Oldmanter could present his discovery to an awed world in a suitably spectacular fashion. He even allowed himself to be filmed, for the first time in decades, so important was it to his power and reputation.

They were also using the new machine, unfinished when Angela fled but now completed and equipped with sensors to give a much better idea of where the subjects landed. It was in a large room, dramatically lit and prepared. A suitable hush attended the technicians, hunched over their instruments and concentrating hard, the very picture of technocratic excellence. The volunteer was led in and received a round of applause as she mounted the podium. No one said she was a renegade; rather she had been given the profile of a heroic explorer, a pioneer wishing to better humanity. The child of distinguished scientists ready, yet again, to demonstrate the devotion of her calling to the betterment of mankind. She sat down, nodded to say she was ready, and the magnetic field was raised, trapping her inside.

The cameras focused lovingly on her face until it disappeared
into the blue darkness; pretty, fresh and uncomplicated, everything the viewers would like to look at.

Then the room itself darkened until only the blue light could be seen, pulsating rhythmically. Ordinarily the transmission was instantaneous; one moment the subject was there, the next it was gone. This wasn’t good enough; the publicity department had insisted on something more visual and dramatic. Can’t you keep it going for longer? We need a sense of journey, and what you’ve got is about as exciting as switching off a light bulb.

It could be done, but only by keeping the volunteer in a state of artificial non-existence for that time. As long as the power was running through the system, she would be kept in limbo; they could add in lighting effects, cut to anxious looks on the faces of technicians, have a commentary building up to the moment when the power shut down and the traveller – presumably – exited at her destination. The lights would come on to reveal the now completely empty podium. It still wouldn’t look much, but it was better than nothing. Eventually it had been arranged. The transmission would be dragged out as required. They didn’t tell Emily about this, in case she worried. The producers needed her to smile.

Oldmanter watched from the side; he had set it all in motion and was more than happy to leave the technical operation to others. When the theatricals began, he became impatient and walked to the room down the corridor containing the smaller, older machine, the one used in the days of Hanslip. On the transmission pad was nothing but a black metal sphere, about two feet across. Jack went with him; he was instructed to make sure no one else came in.

‘I thought you might like to see this,’ Oldmanter said as they walked in. ‘It is the more serious experiment taking place today.’

‘What was that down the corridor?’

‘A little publicity. Sending one girl isn’t going to accomplish anything. But she looked good and will tug at people’s heartstrings.’

‘So what’s this, then?’

‘This, Mr More, is a nuclear bomb. You can have no idea how difficult it was to get hold of it. They are very well guarded, as you can imagine. It’s small, but unfortunately that is the maximum density this device can cope with. Sending metal of any sort requires gigantic amounts of energy. The world, I’m afraid, is about to suffer another major power failure.’ He turned to Jack with a smile. ‘These terrorists, eh? There’s no limit to their audacity.’

‘What are you going to do with it? What’s the point?’

Oldmanter smiled. ‘We are going to clear a world for colonisation. Might as well get started to test the practicality.’

‘With one bomb?’

‘Just one. We can rely on the inhabitants to do the rest for us. It’s cheaper, you see. Otherwise we have to go back further and that is more expensive.’

‘I hope you’re not sending it to the same world as Emily has gone to?’

‘Unfortunately we have to,’ he said with a slight tone of regret. ‘There is a little technical hitch, and we can only access one universe at the moment. No one knows why, but until we sort it out, there is nothing we can do.’

‘She’ll be killed.’

‘No. We decided to send her forwards. No one has ever done that, and one of our consultants is desperate to find out if it is possible. If there is to be communication between the worlds, we need to establish if forward transmission is possible. She will go as far as the power available permits.’

‘So you lied to her?’

‘I said I would transport the renegades to a different world, and I will do so. I didn’t say I’d send them all to the same time zone, nor did I promise not to send a nuclear bomb as well.’

‘Where has she gone?’

‘Nowhere yet, as far as I understand it. She will arrive when the power to her device cuts off. That will be about ten minutes
after this experiment finishes. At the moment she is in a fascinating state of non-existence. Now, if you will excuse me …’

A technician had come up to him, bearing a piece of paper.

‘The list of options, sir, for your final approval. We will be ready in five minutes.’

Oldmanter took the piece of paper and glanced casually at it. Berlin, October 1962; London, November 1983; Calcutta, May 1990; Beijing, July 2018.

‘Which is recommended?’

‘Analysis suggests all will work perfectly well. You may choose whichever you prefer.’

Oldmanter ticked a box, initialled the bottom and handed it back.

‘Go ahead then,’ he said, and walked out of the room to where Jack was standing in the corridor, looking at the artificial window.

‘You find me brutal, Mr More. That, I am afraid, is the nature of discovery. We do not wrest nature’s secrets from it by asking nicely. We have to tear them out using whatever ruthlessness is needed. You are worried for that girl, I suppose. But she is just one person amongst many billions who need help and resources. Humanity has a long future ahead of it now. It is worth sacrificing one person for that.’

‘She thought that this world would destroy itself through its knowledge,’ Jack replied.

‘She was wrong.’ He glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘I will prove it in twenty seconds from now.’

‘Are you sure? Would it not be better to wait?’

Oldmanter grunted dismissively, and he and Jack turned to the projection of tranquillity in front of them; another ideal landscape, and still Jack had no idea why anyone bothered to install it. But they both seemed to find it distracting as, behind them, the monotonous tone of a technician called out the last seconds.

‘The world is about to change for ever, because of what we are doing here,’ Oldmanter said quietly. ‘We can make something truly wonderful of it.’

66

‘Master Henary!’ Jay called, running after the heavy figure walking slowly back towards the great house. ‘Wait!’

Henary stopped as the boy – maybe not so much a boy any more, but still distressingly young – caught up with him.

‘Master Henary,’ Jay repeated, then stopped. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘For the first time in my life, Jay, I am disappointed in you,’ Henary replied mildly.

‘What has happened?’

‘I have no idea. Except that you have demonstrated what a magnificent teacher I am. You have kept calm through heaven knows what difficulties, you have made your first speech and defeated one of the finest orators in Anterwold, and you have stared a spirit in the eye without flinching. I claim some credit for your achievement.’

‘By all means.’

‘Alas, not much. You will far exceed me. I will be known to future ages only as your first teacher.’

‘Hardly.’

‘You took risks I would never have dared take and triumphed.’

They continued on, heading for the assembly, until Henary spoke once more. ‘We have seen marvels today. The fulfilment of a prophecy, the descent of spirits, the end of the world. A great injustice rectified. Extraordinary things. Do you know, a part of me really does feel almost disappointed.’

‘Why?’

‘Because all I heard was common sense. Esilio descended and all he told us was what we already knew. What we should have
known, at least. Strange, don’t you think?’

‘It was terrifying, though.’

‘It was. And the news will spread across Anterwold like a forest fire in summer. It will change everything, and for ever. We may perhaps help it to change in the way the spirit instructed. I would say I needed your help, but let me rather offer you such assistance as I can.’

‘I … well …’

‘There is so much to do, Jay. It will be wonderful and frightening for us all. Do not think everyone will agree with us. We will need to argue, persuade and cajole.’

Jay smiled. ‘What do you think we should do first?’

‘First? Well, first we go and watch this ceremony. Then we go to Ossenfud. Do you know, I think it would be good to get there before Gontal does. After that, well, that’s when the fun really begins. Now, what I suggest is …’

And the large old man and the thin young boy walked, laughing and talking, into the darkening night, each more excited than ever before in their lives, until they came to the large courtyard where the assembly was being held, in front of all the adults of the domain who had managed to get there in time. The atmosphere was one of high tension and great noise. The Chamberlain was already speaking when they arrived, but was having trouble being heard. Twice he had recited the required words, but had to shout them out for a third time before enough calm descended for the ceremony to continue. Who, he almost shouted, presented themselves first to the assembly?

Catherine walked forward, looking like a lord despite her clothes. Many scarcely recognised her, but when they did a loud murmur of approval ran through the courtyard, and then a stamping began, a few first, then everyone joined in, beating their feet on the ground, shouting and cheering to see her again. For once she broke protocol and, tears streaming down her cheeks, acknowledged their welcome.

‘Does anyone claim a better title? Is there any member of the
line of Thenald who wishes to present himself?’

All stared at Pamarchon. This was the moment he had dreamt of for years. The moment he had suffered for and plotted to achieve. He stepped forward confidently and in a clear, loud voice exclaimed so all could hear: ‘Not I!’

‘That is your final word?’

‘It is.’

‘Then does any other member of the family wish to present themselves?’

It was the measure of Gontal that he had not left already; a lesser man would surely have done so, walked away from the defeat and the humiliation. But Gontal was made of sterner stuff. He was a man of propriety and rules. They had sustained him and guided him all his life, and he felt obliged to honour them even now. That didn’t mean, of course, that he had to enjoy it. Still he was there, standing proudly and stiffly as the question was posed. He stood forward also, head upright as he said: ‘Not I!’ although many noted that his tone was rather less enthusiastic.

There was much more for the Chamberlain to say, but no one heard it. It had been a week without parallel, and only a few hours previously many there had been in terror of their lives. They had seen things that would be talked of for generations. Their Lord had been lost and found again. They had come close to war. The prophecies of old had been fulfilled in ways which had terrified them.

Now all was restored and forgiven. Ossenfud and Willdon had been returned to harmony. The stain on the family of Thenald was wiped clean. The innocent had been forgiven, the guilty punished. The day of judgement had come and gone, and they had been freed from servitude.

No wonder no one heard the Chamberlain pronounce, ‘Then I declare the Lord of Willdon is Lord once more, and this election is at an end,’ although he tried his best. Everyone was simply too happy, too noisy and too excited to pay a blind bit of attention.

Amid the bedlam, Pamarchon came over to be the first to
acknowledge Catherine, ensconced once more on her seat of office.

She smiled. ‘You owe me no obedience,’ she said as he made to bow to her. ‘You know that as well as I do. Go. Find that wife of yours. If you are going to reverence anyone, she deserves it more than I do.’

‘Then with your permission …’

He scuttled out the door.

And came straight across Antros, bearing Rosalind in his arms, with blood streaming down her dress.

*

With a cry of despair, Pamarchon ran across the lawn to where Antros now stood. ‘What happened? What’s the matter with her?’

‘Jaqui,’ Antros said. He was breathing heavily from the effort of carrying Rosalind so far and so quickly, terrified that if he was too slow she might bleed to death and that if he ran he might cause her pain. ‘The spirit went back into the light, and Jaqui tried to make Rosalind go as well. He was pulling her into it and I fired. The spirit had told me to, I think. He had that knife, and cut at her before Rosalind pushed him through. He has gone.’

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