Doomsday Book by Connie Willis Page B

for his age."
    "Tall," Dunworthy said loudly over the sound of the crowd. "His name is Colin -- "
    "Templer," Mary said. "Dierdre said he'd take the tube from Marble Arch at one."
    "Colin Templer. Have you seen him?"
    "What the bloody hell do you mean have I seen him?" the stationmaster shouted. "I've got five hundred people in this station and you want to know if I've seen a little boy. Look at this mess."
    The visual abruptly showed a milling crowd. Dunworthy scanned it, looking for a tallish boy with blonde hair and blue eyes. It switched back to the station master.
    "There's just been a temp quarantine," he shouted over the roar which seemed to get louder by the minute, "and I've got a station full of people who want to know why the trains have stopped and why don't I do something about it. I've got all I can do to keep them from tearing the place apart. I can't bother about a boy."
    "His name is Colin Templer," Dunworthy shouted. "His great aunt was supposed to meet him."
    "Well, why didn't she then and make one less problem for me to deal with? I've got a crowd of angry people here who want to know how long the quarantine's going to last and why don't I do something about that -- " He cut off suddenly. Dunworthy wondered if he'd hung up or had the phone snatched out of his hand by an angry shopper.
    "Had the stationmaster seen him?" Mary said.
    "No," Dunworthy said. "You'll have to send someone after him."
    "Yes, all right. I'll send one of the staff," she said, and started out.
    "The quarantine was called at 3:10, and he wasn't supposed to get here till three," Montoya said. "Maybe he was late."
    That hadn't occurred to Dunworthy. If the quarantine had been called before his train reached Oxford, it would have been stopped at the nearest station and the passengers rerouted or sent back to London.
    "Ring the station back," he said, handing her the phone. He told her the number. "Tell them his train left Marble Arch at one. I'll have Mary phone her niece. Perhaps Colin's back already."
    He went out in the corridor, intending to ask the nurse to fetch Mary, but she wasn't there. Mary must have sent her to the station.
    There was no one in the corridor. He looked down it at the call box he had used before and then walked rapidly down to it and punched in Balliol's number. There was an off-chance that Colin had gone to Mary's rooms after all. He would send Finch round, and if Colin wasn't there, down to the station. It would very likely take more than one person looking to find Colin in that mess.
    "Hi," a woman said.
    Dunworthy frowned at the number in the inset, but he hadn't misdialed. "I'm trying to reach Mr. Finch at Balliol College."
    "He's not here right now," the woman, obviously American, said. "I'm Ms. Taylor. Can I take a message?"
    This must be one of the bellringers. She was younger than he'd expected, not much over thirty, and she looked rather delicate to be a bellringer. "Would you have him call Mr. Dunworthy at Infirmary as soon as he returns, please?"
    "Mr. Dunworthy." She wrote it down, and then looked up sharply. "Mr. Dun worthy," she said in an entirely different tone of voice, "are you the person responsible for our being held prisoner here?"
    There was no good answer to that. He should never have phoned the junior common room. He had sent Finch to the bursar's office.
    "The National Health Service issues temp quarantines in cases of an unidentified disease. It's a precautionary measure. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it's caused you. I've instructed my secretary to make your stay comfortable, and if there's anything I can do for you -- "
    "Do? Do?! You can get us to Ely, that's what you can do. My ringers were supposed to give a handbell concert at the cathedral at eight o'clock, and tomorrow we have to be in Norwich. We're ringing a peal on Christmas Eve."
    He was not about to be the one to tell her they were not going to be in Norwich tomorrow. "I'm sure that Ely is already aware of the situation,