Authors: Iain Pears
‘This Anterwold of yours was built to be an artificial, disconnected creation existing in a bubble, but it might not stay like that for much longer. If it continues to exist, the accumulation of causes will connect it back to the earliest moment in the universe, and the effects will also link it to the last moment of the universe. Then there will be two different futures, and according to Angela there can be only one. Others exist only as potential. So either this world exists, or mine does. If this one exists, ours cannot. It will be the worst catastrophe in the history of humanity.’
‘Really?’ Lytten said, looking around him. ‘Surely not? I designed it to be peaceful and quiet. It’s not as if they can do much harm with swords and arrows, you know.’
‘Swords and arrows, precisely. My world staggers through, cruel and mean though it is. This Arcadian idyll of yours requires the wholesale destruction of nearly all of humanity and hundreds of years of misery and despair. It is built on corpses.’
‘What nonsense! I didn’t put in anything like that.’
‘You did. When Angela created it as an actual place, it had to bear some relationship to your present. Past or future. You made it the future.’
‘How?’
‘They eat potatoes and tomatoes, which only came to this island after about 1600. You gave them their mythology of the giants. They know about bacteria, even if they have forgotten the details. Many other things. I mean, look at this place. In comparison to
your time it is technologically primitive. It has lost much of the art of engineering, knows little about chemistry. No concrete, no large-scale use of steel. By logical extrapolation, which is how it develops, there is only one way that could happen.’
‘Which is?’
‘A massive dislocation which pushes technological development into reverse. A war, Professor. A nuclear one. That’s the fundamental proof that this is in your future. There are parts of the country still dangerous from radiation. I spent two years travelling the country, and I checked my findings many times over.’
‘So when are we now?’
‘That’s difficult to say. What they call the Exile, when most of the world was dying, seems to have lasted about two hundred years. That was enough for the worst of the radiation to fade, for the plagues to burn out and the forests to regrow. As far as I can tell from examining ruins the Return was a good four centuries back. So at least six hundred years from you, but that’s not anything more than a rough guess. I could do better with some proper equipment.’
‘When is this war?’
‘Also difficult, but after the moment Angela created this place, and before nuclear weapons were brought under unified control. My best guess would be the second half of the twentieth century. All I know is that if Angela is going to stop this, we need to get out of here.’
‘What happens then?’
‘She pulls the plug. No one here will know. It’s not like killing people, you know. Anterwold will not exist, will never have existed, except in your mind. As it should be; then history will have no alternative but to head to my future, which avoids a catastrophe.’
‘What about Rosie?’
‘She must leave Anterwold. She must. Otherwise Angela won’t be able to close it.’
‘She may not want to.’
‘Then you have to make her.’
Lytten did not like that. If what this man told him was true – and he had heard and seen so many absurdities that he could no longer tell what was reasonable or not – then he might well be correct.
‘Here she comes now,’ Chang said. ‘Please, do as I ask. It is the most important thing you have ever been called on to do.’
*
Rosalind was bounding through the trees, waving cheerfully, a look of deep happiness on her face.
‘I left him to it,’ she called out. ‘It should be settled soon enough.’ She ran up and gave Lytten an enormous hug. ‘Thank you so much! You were brilliant! I couldn’t have done it. You got the hang of it so quickly!’
‘Thank you. Not that I had much choice. Believing it all was easier than not, if you see what I mean.’
‘I know. You forget about home completely.’
‘Ah,’ he said. Better get it over with. ‘Home. I need to talk to you about that. It seems that the way home will open very soon and probably for the last time. There will not be another chance.’
‘Oh, Professor! No! Not yet!’
‘I’m sorry. Don’t ask me to explain, because you know I can’t. Angela’s colleague’ – here he waved at Chang – ‘assures me this is so. This is Mr Alexander Chang, by the way.’
Rosalind look at Chang, who smiled wanly. ‘Her colleague?’
‘Yes. He says we have to go, urgently, otherwise terrible things will happen. Besides, think of your parents,’ he continued. ‘Think of your friends, family. Jenkins. Me. We’d all miss you.’
She bit her lip to stop it trembling, then reluctantly nodded, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks.
‘I suppose so,’ she said, ‘but does it really have to be so soon? Now or never?’
‘Now or never. I’m sorry.’
*
The timing was perfect; just as the sun dipped below tree level and the light began to fade quickly, Rosalind heard the now almost familiar hum, and there, exactly where it had been before, was the faint blue light, shining out of nothing. This time, though, she did not hurry towards it. But what could she do? Live in a dream world or, whatever their faults and failings, go back to her parents and her real life?
Of course she had to go. There was nothing to be said for it, but how she wished she could stay a little longer! See the world with Pamarchon, travel to all those exotic places, find out things no one else knew or cared about. She wiped away the tears and stood up straight. Don’t slouch, Rosie. Ladies don’t slouch.
She was glad there was no one else here; if Pamarchon had been with her, they would have had to say goodbye. She knew that one word, one look from him would make her change her mind. So it had to be like this. Chin up, Rosie.
She took a deep breath and stepped forward to peer into the light, her eyes adjusting until she could see through more clearly.
She stopped, her heart suddenly beating far harder even than before. What on earth …?
‘Professor!’ she called over her shoulder. ‘Professor! Come and look!’
Lytten hurried over, worried by the tremor in her voice. ‘Look! Is that …?’
Rosie was pointing through the light at herself.
‘Yes. That is difficult to explain … It’s you.’
‘What do you mean? How can it be me?’
‘How should I know? There’s two of you. One went home, the other stayed here. So I’m told.’
‘That’s impossible.’
‘You would think so, but I have talked to both of you. In fact, I am the only one who has. It is a very strange experience.’
Rosalind looked appalled. ‘That’s horrible.’
‘It’s not so bad. Both of you are perfectly normal and happy.’
‘Do I know about me?’
‘Yes. Although you were keen to keep yourself hidden. You didn’t want to upset you.’
‘What if I go home, though? I mean, who gets my bed? What will my parents say?’
‘I know it is hard.’
‘Hard? It’s a bit more than hard. And what about that nonsense you told me? About my parents and friends. How much they would miss me. They won’t miss me. You tried to trick me. You knew all about this. How could you be so deceitful?’
‘Well …’
‘I decided I had to go because of you. But now … No. No. You lied to me. I will not go. Nothing you can say will change my mind. I’m not needed there. And what sort of life would it be, sharing everything like that? What am I meant to be? A long-lost twin?’
‘It may make it impossible for Angela to shut …’
‘To shut …? To shut what?’
The question received no answer as a loud cry of protest from Chang interrupted them.
‘You can’t stand there talking,’ he said. ‘There is no time to lose. We have to go. It won’t stay open for long.’
‘We haven’t finished,’ Rosalind said tartly.
‘If we don’t go now—’
‘It will just have to wait.’
‘Mr Lytten, go through, quickly.’
‘I don’t think …’
‘Go!’ Chang screamed. ‘There may only be seconds. Quickly!’
His voice had become so hysterical that Lytten, although he hesitated, began to retreat. ‘Rosie?’ he called out.
‘You can go,’ she said. ‘Go on. After all, you’re not needed here.’ It was clear she had not forgiven him.
There was a pause as Lytten cast one last glance at her. Then he stepped forward, and his body fragmented and became translucent.
A new, shadowy outline formed on the other side. He had arrived safely.
Chang grabbed Rosalind roughly by the arm. ‘Now you. Quickly,’ he said. ‘We have to shut down this ridiculous place. It’s dangerous and unstable. We have to go before it’s too late.’
‘No,’ said Rosalind. ‘I’m not going.’
‘I have been waiting for nearly six years and I’m not going to risk being blown to pieces so you can stay in your childish playground. Do as you are told. Don’t you understand what is at stake here, you stupid girl?’
Rosalind glared at him. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘That does it. I’m not moving.’
62
‘Thank heavens I found you! Welcome back, Professor!’ Rosie cried as Lytten stumbled through the pergola and shook his head in relief and surprise. ‘Now do you believe me?’
Lytten didn’t answer, but leaned against the old sink, breathing hard. He seemed suddenly very tired.
Rosie was surprised; she had recovered relatively quickly, she thought. It wasn’t her story, though; maybe that made a difference.
‘What’s been going on? Has something terrible happened?’
Lytten pointed back at the pergola, still glowing faintly in the corner. Rosie turned to see what was so obviously causing him concern. ‘Chang,’ he said. ‘What’s he doing?’
‘Who?’
He was too appalled and fascinated to reply. Instead he stared at the scene of Chang and Rosalind struggling together in full view of both of them in the cellar.
*
Chang grabbed hold of Rosalind and was gripping her tight. In the half-light metal briefly glimmered, a knife to her throat, the knife Jay had presented as the weapon which had murdered Thenald, and which he had placed as evidence by the altar for all to examine. Rosalind fought back, trying to kick him, stand on his foot and wriggle free, but he paid no attention. Instead he was forcing her ever closer to the light, dragging her backwards, looking over his shoulder. He was much stronger than she was, and there was enough light to see the terror on her face,
the tears rolling down her cheeks.
Step by step, ignoring her screams and attempts to bite him, he manoeuvred towards the light, occasionally almost picking her up and swinging her off her feet. There was no one to assist; no one could possibly intervene. The stone circle was deserted.
He stopped, panting with the exertion, but the girl kept struggling. One more heave, though, and it would be done. Already they were close enough for the light to illuminate their bodies, the short girl and the powerful man locked in a bizarre embrace. He bent slightly, summoning all his strength, one arm still tightly around her waist, the other hand holding the knife to her throat. Then he relaxed. She screamed one last time and fell from his grip onto the grass, rolling away from him, scrabbling to get away from the knife.
He shuddered for a moment, then fell sideways as if he had been pushed, blood pouring from a wound in his leg. Rosalind looked back at her attacker as he stood there, pulling at the arrow that was sticking out from him, blood splashing onto the ground. With an agonising look of pain he succeeded, but only at the cost of opening a jagged, bloody wound as the barbed end tore through his flesh. He wavered, now very unsteady on his feet, but focused on Rosalind lying on the ground. He still had the knife in his hand, and with uncertain steps he began to come towards her.
There was a shout in the distance from the bushes. Antros was hurrying towards them, as he was afraid of hitting Rosalind if he fired again, but he was too far away to reach them in time. If Rosalind got up and ran for safety, she would get a knife in her back, without a doubt.
So she did the opposite. With one almighty effort of will she launched herself forward and cannoned into Chang as he advanced towards her.
It was enough, but she paid a price. The weakened Chang toppled backwards into the light, but not before he made a desperate stab with his knife into Rosalind’s side. She screamed out in pain as a pair of hands grabbed her from behind and prevented her
from following him through.
With one strong movement Antros all but threw her to one side and she fell heavily onto the ground. He stepped back, pulled another arrow from the sheath, metal-tipped like the first, strung it and pulled back. With one smooth movement, he aimed directly at the shadow on the other side and released it.
*
‘Look out!’ Rosie cried, and pushed Lytten to the left just as he tried to push her to the right. The result was that neither moved. Both crouched down fearfully and glanced towards the pergola. As the arrow entered the light, there was a sharp bang and fizzing, and Lytten’s cellar was plunged into total darkness. Not only had the machine evidently closed down, it had also short-circuited the entire house. Chang was screaming in agony in the darkness, which at least gave Lytten something to do. Taking a box of matches out of his pocket, he carefully found his way to the fuse box in the corner by the stairs.
‘Come and hold this, will you?’ he said. Her hands were trembling. ‘Steady,’ he said in a surprisingly calm voice. ‘Ignore Mr Chang. We can’t help him until we can see what we are doing. Concentrate on holding the match still.’
She managed, just, and the match – several of them, one after another – gave enough light for Lytten to extract the fuse, find the wire and repair it. Then he pushed down the main switch and the dim light bulb hanging from the centre of the room came on again.
‘Thank heavens for that,’ he said. ‘Now, go upstairs and phone an ambulance. This poor man needs to get to a hospital. Go on.’
He almost pushed her up the stairs, and then began to deal with Chang. It was a nasty-looking wound, but Lytten – whose eye was more expert than he liked – reckoned that it was not mortal, as long as the bleeding could be staunched. He ran upstairs and
got some clean cloth, then knelt by the injured man and pressed hard, reassuring him with touching gentleness as he waited.