Connie Willis - All Clear

“What time was her drop set for?” Dunworthy asked Badri.

“Five A.M. The raids on the night of the ninth were over at half past four, and the all clear didn’t go till 6:22.”

“Set mine for four A.M. That way the fire watch will still be up on the roofs and I’ll have the entire day to find her.”

“You’re pulling her out the same day she went through?” Colin asked.

Badri said, “Sir, you can’t go through with a raid in progress. And the tenth is too close to—”

“I’ll only be there the few hours it takes to find her, and there’s a tube stop just down from the cathedral. I can go straight to Oxford Street from there. And the raids that night were over the East End, not the City.”

“Tell me why you need to pull her out,” Colin said, his voice rising. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing’s happened,” Dunworthy said. “I’m merely pulling her out as a precaution.”

“What do you mean, a precaution? Against what?”

I knew I shouldn’t have let Colin into the lab, Dunworthy thought. “There’s been a slight increase in the amount of slippage,” he said. “And until we know what’s causing it, I’m not sending historians on multi-part drops, that’s all. I was unaware that Polly had left on hers or I would have stopped her from going. Since she’s already there, I’m bringing her back.”

“I’m going with you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“No, I must,” Colin said earnestly. “I promised her I’d come rescue her if she was in trouble.”

“She is not in trouble—”

“Then why are you pulling her out? And what do you mean, a slight increase? How much?”

“Only a few days.”

“Oh,” Colin said, and Dunworthy could see the relief in his face.

But he was a bright lad; he’d make the connection. Dunworthy needed to get him out of here. “Colin, I need you to go to Props and tell them I need a 1940 identity card,” he said, afraid Colin would balk at leaving, but he was eager to help.

“What name do you want on the card?” he asked.

“There’s no time to make up a special one. Have them give you whatever they have on hand.”

Colin nodded. “You’ll need a ration book, as well, and a shelter assignment card and—”

“No, I’m only going through for a few hours,” he said. “Just long enough to locate Polly and bring her back.”

“But you’ll need money for the tube and things. And what about clothes? Should I go to Wardrobe and—”

I can just imagine what Wardrobe would come up with, Dunworthy thought. “No, I’ll wear what I have on,” he said. A tweed jacket and wool trousers had, thankfully, been wardrobe staples for a century and a half.

“But you’ll need a gas mask. And a steel helmet,” Colin said. “It’s the Blitz—”

“I am fully aware of the Blitz’s dangers,” Dunworthy said. “I have been there several times.”

“Sir?” Badri interrupted. “I think you should send a retrieval team instead of going yourself. It would only take a short time to set one up and a day or two to prep them—”

“There is no need for a retrieval team.”

“Then at least someone who hasn’t been to 1940—”

“You could send me,” Colin said eagerly. “I know all about the Blitz. I helped Polly with her prep—”

“You are not going anywhere,” Dunworthy said, “except to Props to fetch me an identity card.”

“But I know when and where all the raids were, and—”

“Go,” Dunworthy said. “Now.”

“But … yes, sir,” Colin said reluctantly, and ran out.

“How long before Linna will have those coordinates set up?” Dunworthy asked Badri.

“A few minutes. But I really think you should send someone who hasn’t been to 1940 before. You’re clearly worried about the increase in slippage making it impossible to pull people out by their deadlines, which means you shouldn’t—”

“The increase in slippage at this point is only two days, which would put me through on the twelfth at the latest, and I will be there less than a day. I’ll be in no danger. Linna, do you have those coordinates?” he called over to her.

“Nearly,” she called back, and Dunworthy took off his watch and began emptying his pockets.

The door to the lab banged open, and Colin came skidding in, waving a handful of papers. “You’re Edward T. Price,” he said. “You live at eleven Jubilee Place, Chelsea. I brought you two five-pound notes.”

“And I see you’ve changed out of your school blazer into something Wardrobe fondly imagines young boys were wearing during the Blitz,” Dunworthy said.

Colin flushed. “I think I should go with you. With two people looking, we can find Polly twice as fast, and I know where every single bomb fell on the tenth.”

“As do I. Give me my money and identity card.”

“And here’s your ration book,” Colin said, handing them to him. “You might get hungry. I brought you a pocket torch. To help you see where you’re going.”

Dunworthy handed it back. “All that will do is get me arrested by the local ARP warden. Pocket torches weren’t allowed in the blackout.”

“But that’s all the more reason for me to go with you. I can see really well in the dark—”

“You are not going, Colin.”

“But what if you’re hit by a bus? That happened a lot in the blackout. Or get into some other sort of trouble?”

“I will not get into trouble.”

“You did last time,” Colin said, “and I had to rescue you, remember? What if that happens again?”

“It won’t.”

“Mr. Dunworthy?” Linna said from the console. “I have the coordinates if you’re ready.”

“Yes,” he said, and saw Colin dart a calculating glance at the draped folds of the net and the distance between it and where they were standing. “Thank you, Linna, but I need a few more minutes. Colin, on second thought, I believe you’re right about the torch. If I’m to get Polly out quickly, I can’t afford to sprain an ankle falling off a curb.”

“Good,” Colin said, holding the torch out to him.

“No, this one won’t work,” he said. “It’s too modern. And it needs to be fitted with a special blackout hood to eliminate the beam’s being seen from above. Go ask Props if they have one with a hood, and if they haven’t, then paste strips of black paper over the glass. Hurry.”

“Yes, sir,” Colin said, and dashed out.

“You have the coordinates ready?” Dunworthy asked Linna as soon as Colin was gone.

“Yes, sir,” she said. “We can do it as soon as Colin—”

He went over to the door and locked it. “Send me through.”

“But I thought—”

“The last thing I need is a seventeen-year-old tagging along while I’m trying to find a missing historian,” he said, walking over to the net and ducking under its already descending folds. “A seventeen-year-old who, as Badri can attest, has a history of stowing away on journeys to the past.” He centered himself on the grid.

“Ready,” he said to her.

“I think you should at least wait until we’ve set up the return drop,” Badri said. “If there’s increased slippage, and you go through later than—”

“You can set it up after you send me through. Now, Linna.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. She began typing, and he saw the beginnings of the shimmer.

“Don’t send anyone else through on assignment till I return. And if Polly comes back through to check in, keep her here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Colin’s not to be allowed anywhere near the net while I’m gone.”

The shimmer was beginning to grow and flare, obscuring Linna’s features. “He’s not to come through after me—or Polly—under any circumstances,” he said, but it was too late. The net was already opening.