‘Not from me,’ said Parrish.
Farrell silently shook his head.
After a moment, Lockland shook hers.
‘Right, I don’t think any of you have yet jumped to the 20th century?’
They shook their heads.
‘Well, it’s before the civil uprisings, so governments were weak and generally ineffective. There’s a great deal of crime, a lot of it opportunistic and up close and personal, so although you look the biggest bunch of shambolic incompetents I’ve ever clapped eyes on, I’m sure anyone from the 20th century would think twice before taking you on, so you should be safe. Air and water quality will be poor, so don’t drink anything that hasn’t been boiled. It’s the age of the automobile and they drive on the left. On the left, people, so watch how you cross the road. Times are hard – although not as hard as they’re going to be – so keep your hands on your holiday money.’
His team eyed each other sideways in bafflement at the reference.
He sighed. ‘Any questions?’
‘Um . . .’ said Jane.
‘Yes, Lockland.’
‘Do they know about us? I mean, the Time Police?’
‘No. Too early. Which is why you won’t be carrying blasters. Only sonics.’
Luke blinked. ‘So how are we supposed to quell these savages?’
‘You are Time Police officers with all the authority that entails.’
‘But . . .’
‘Two minutes ago, you were commenting adversely on Henry Plimpton and his lack of criminal characteristics. Make up your mind, Parrish.’
Luke subsided, scowling.
‘Right, draw your weapons from the Armoury and meet me in the Pod Bay asap.’
The Pod Bay was underground – in case of accidents – and a good part of it was under the Thames itself. ‘To help contain the spread of radiation’ had been the cheerful explanation during their induction tour. It was a very large, sound-deadening space, well lit and spotlessly clean. On the far wall, swing doors led directly to the MedCen. Another door in another wall led to Stores, Logistics and the workshops. At the moment, however, the Pod Bay was comparatively empty.
Pods are the centre of Time Police operations. Unlike St Mary’s, whose function required their pods to be unobtrusive in any time period, the Time Police favoured big, bad, trouser-soiling pods, designed to put the fear of God into anyone unfortunate enough to be present at the time, and most of their pods were just a plain black box, accessed either by a door or a ramp.
Two of the four hospital pods were already out, as were most of the all-purpose pods. As Parrish had said, they were the last to be allocated an assignment.
‘Team Bottom of the Barrel,’ murmured Farrell as they entered their designated pod.
None of them were unfamiliar with the pod layout. There had been plenty of simulation exercises during their training and they had accompanied and observed other teams. This, however, was their first proper assignment and as Ellis was aware, no one can predict how a team will react to their first taste of action.
To the right of the door stood the console, an array of flashing lights and read-outs. Basic metal seats were bolted around two of the walls and the fourth wall contained the weapons safe, equipment lockers and first-aid kit. The space wasn’t large, but it was well lit. The fixtures and fittings were all Time Police beige – the Time Police not being an organisation that embraced vibrant colour – and the floor covering was Time Police grey. The whole pod smelled pleasantly of Mountain Pine.
Somewhat apprehensively, they filed in and waited, standing around, unsure what to do next. And, as if the day wasn’t going to be bad enough, the dreaded Officer North was waiting for them.
Perfect was a word frequently used to describe Celia North. She was tall enough to be elegant but not so tall as to be gangly. Her hair was blonde and well managed, adapting itself quite happily to whichever style was currently required of it. Her carefully planned academic career had been exceptional. Head girl at the same exclusive public school attended by her mother and her mother before her, she’d gone on to graduate from Durham with a first-class degree and a CV filled with memberships of all the right societies and committees likely to prove useful in her future career – which, since her family owned extensive land and properties all across northern England, she hardly needed.
Recruited to St Mary’s, she was understood to be efficient, effective and capable. She was admired without being much liked. Held in respect, not affection.
On arrival at St Mary’s, she had, as usual, identified her goals and set up two-, five- and ten-year plans for achieving them. These included – but were not necessarily limited to – becoming Head of the History Department. She would, naturally, go on to become Director of St Mary’s, after which the place would be run on very different lines to its current shambolic system of administration.
A chance encounter with the Time Police had led to her spending some time with them while St Mary’s extricated itself from one of its many crises. There was always some sort of crisis at St Mary’s – something she had planned to rectify at the earliest opportunity – but to the surprise of everyone – including Officer North herself – there had been a mutual attraction between herself and the Time Police.
The Time Police themselves were not unaware of the value of the historical perspective Officer North could provide and Officer North, scenting accelerated promotion, promptly revised her game plan.
Events, as they always did, played out to her advantage. Several discreet conversations with Commander Hay had left them both pleased with each other, and even the problem of leaving St Mary’s short-staffed had been overcome by the fortuitous wish of a former St Mary’s colleague, Officer Van Owen, to return to her own time and place at St Mary’s. Dr Bairstow had raised no difficulties and she and Miss Van Owen had simply exchanged places.
The results of her transfer had been beneficial to all. St Mary’s, released from her steady stream of constructive criticism, had heaved a massive sigh of relief – ‘Rather similar to taking your corsets off,’ Miss Sykes had remarked – and the Time Police had acquired a new member who was destined to be valued as she had always felt she should be.
Whether being among so many kindred spirits had softened her edges a little or whether it was relief of at last being part of an organisation that did things properly, both Officer North and the Time Police had benefitted from the arrangements. Frequent and well-deserved promotions had settled her. She no longer had the feeling of not only being a square peg in a round hole, but also of facing the daunting task of converting all the other pegs, too. Here, everyone was a square peg. She relaxed into her job and, slightly to her surprise, found she was enjoying herself.