out historians irate at having had their drops canceled? Polly knocked, and after a long minute a harassed-looking Linna let her in. “I’m on the phone,” she said and hurried back to it. “No, I know you were scheduled to do the Battle of the Somme first,” she said into it.
Polly went over to Badri at the console. “Sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you’d found a drop site for me yet.”
“No,” he said, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “The problem’s the blackout.”
Polly nodded. The drop couldn’t open if there was anyone nearby who might see it. Ordinarily the faint shimmer from an opening drop wasn’t all that conspicuous, but in blacked-out London, even the light from a pocket torch or a gap in a house’s curtains was instantly noticeable, and ARP wardens patrolled every neighborhood, looking for the slightest infraction. “What about Green Park or Kensington Gardens?”
“No good. They’ve both got anti-aircraft batteries, and the barrage balloons are headquartered in Regent’s Park.”
There was an angry knock, and when Linna went to the door, a man in a fringed suede jacket and a cowboy hat stormed in, waving a printout. “Who the bloody hell changed my schedule?” he shouted at Badri.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve found something,” Badri said to Polly, and this obviously wasn’t the time to ask them to please hurry.
“I’ll come back later,” she said.
“You can’t cancel it!” the man in the cowboy hat shouted. “I’ve been prepping to go to the Battle of Plum Creek for six months!”
Polly ducked past him and started for the door, waving at Linna, who was still on the phone. “No, I realize you’ve already had your implants—” she was saying. Polly opened the door and went out.
And nearly fell over Colin, who was sitting on the pavement, his back to the lab’s wall. “Sorry,” he said and scrambled to his feet. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over Oxford for you.”
“What are you doing out here?” Polly asked. “Why didn’t you come in?”
He looked sheepish. “I can’t. It’s off-limits. Mr. Dunworthy’s being completely unreasonable. I asked him to let me go on an assignment, and he phoned the lab and told them I wasn’t to be allowed in.”
“Are you certain you didn’t attempt to sneak into the net while someone else was going through?”
“
No
. All I did was say that on certain assignments someone my age could provide a different point of view from an older historian—”
“What
assignment?” Polly asked. “The Crusades?”
“Why does everyone keep bringing up the Crusades? That was something I wanted to do when I was a child, and I am
not—
”
“Mr. Dunworthy’s only trying to protect you. The Crusades are a dangerous place.”
“Oh, you’re a fine one to talk about dangerous places,” he said. “And Mr. Dunworthy thinks every place is too dangerous, which is ridiculous. When he was young,
he
went to the Blitz. He went all sorts of dangerous places, and back then they didn’t even know where they were going. And the place I wanted to go wasn’t remotely dangerous. It was the evacuation of the children from London. In World War II.”
Where she was going. Perhaps Merope was right.
“Speaking of dangerous,” he said, “here are all the raids. I didn’t know when you were coming back, so I did them from September seventh to December thirty-first. The list’s awfully long, so I recorded it as well, in case you want to do an implant.” He handed her a memory tab. “The times are when the bombing began, not when the air-raid alert sirens went. I’m still working on those, but I thought I’d better get the raid times to you in case you were going soon. And if you are, the raids generally began twenty minutes after the sirens sounded. Oh, and by the way, if you’re on a bus, you may not be able to hear the sirens. The noise of the engine drowns them out.”
“Thank you, Colin,”
Polly went over to Badri at the console. “Sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you’d found a drop site for me yet.”
“No,” he said, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “The problem’s the blackout.”
Polly nodded. The drop couldn’t open if there was anyone nearby who might see it. Ordinarily the faint shimmer from an opening drop wasn’t all that conspicuous, but in blacked-out London, even the light from a pocket torch or a gap in a house’s curtains was instantly noticeable, and ARP wardens patrolled every neighborhood, looking for the slightest infraction. “What about Green Park or Kensington Gardens?”
“No good. They’ve both got anti-aircraft batteries, and the barrage balloons are headquartered in Regent’s Park.”
There was an angry knock, and when Linna went to the door, a man in a fringed suede jacket and a cowboy hat stormed in, waving a printout. “Who the bloody hell changed my schedule?” he shouted at Badri.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve found something,” Badri said to Polly, and this obviously wasn’t the time to ask them to please hurry.
“I’ll come back later,” she said.
“You can’t cancel it!” the man in the cowboy hat shouted. “I’ve been prepping to go to the Battle of Plum Creek for six months!”
Polly ducked past him and started for the door, waving at Linna, who was still on the phone. “No, I realize you’ve already had your implants—” she was saying. Polly opened the door and went out.
And nearly fell over Colin, who was sitting on the pavement, his back to the lab’s wall. “Sorry,” he said and scrambled to his feet. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over Oxford for you.”
“What are you doing out here?” Polly asked. “Why didn’t you come in?”
He looked sheepish. “I can’t. It’s off-limits. Mr. Dunworthy’s being completely unreasonable. I asked him to let me go on an assignment, and he phoned the lab and told them I wasn’t to be allowed in.”
“Are you certain you didn’t attempt to sneak into the net while someone else was going through?”
“
No
. All I did was say that on certain assignments someone my age could provide a different point of view from an older historian—”
“What
assignment?” Polly asked. “The Crusades?”
“Why does everyone keep bringing up the Crusades? That was something I wanted to do when I was a child, and I am
not—
”
“Mr. Dunworthy’s only trying to protect you. The Crusades are a dangerous place.”
“Oh, you’re a fine one to talk about dangerous places,” he said. “And Mr. Dunworthy thinks every place is too dangerous, which is ridiculous. When he was young,
he
went to the Blitz. He went all sorts of dangerous places, and back then they didn’t even know where they were going. And the place I wanted to go wasn’t remotely dangerous. It was the evacuation of the children from London. In World War II.”
Where she was going. Perhaps Merope was right.
“Speaking of dangerous,” he said, “here are all the raids. I didn’t know when you were coming back, so I did them from September seventh to December thirty-first. The list’s awfully long, so I recorded it as well, in case you want to do an implant.” He handed her a memory tab. “The times are when the bombing began, not when the air-raid alert sirens went. I’m still working on those, but I thought I’d better get the raid times to you in case you were going soon. And if you are, the raids generally began twenty minutes after the sirens sounded. Oh, and by the way, if you’re on a bus, you may not be able to hear the sirens. The noise of the engine drowns them out.”
“Thank you, Colin,”
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