At a nudge from Luke, he and Jane left their seats and drew closer to the screen. ‘Wow,’ said Jane. ‘Do people actually live here?’
‘Other than us, you mean? Yes, this area is populated. Small groups of Neanders are dotted around. The population here is comparatively dense. They’re nomadic but we estimate there are usually between twenty and fifty of them within a twenty-mile radius.’
‘Never mind people,’ said Luke, leaning forwards in excitement. ‘Mammoths! Are there any mammoths?’
‘Probably. You will appreciate that they are migratory and therefore their provision is not something over which we have any control. Nor is it the primary function of this organisation.’
‘What is the . . . ?’
‘Thank you,’ said Geoffrey, cutting everyone off.
‘All very impressive,’ said Luke, straightening up from the screen, ‘but frankly, this could be anywhere. I’ve seen parts of Scotland that look as if they’ve never emerged from the Pleistocene. When exactly are we?’
‘I’m sure you won’t mind if we keep that to ourselves for the time being. But rest assured, we are exactly where and when our captain said we were.’
‘But unfortunately,’ said Luke, scanning the hard, white, empty landscape on the screen, ‘massively underwhelming. I can’t see the punters being excited by this.’
‘Oh, trust me, those in the know are very excited by this.’
‘In the know?’
‘Temporal tourism – very lucrative though it is – is just a front.’
Luke was conscious of his heart beginning to pound. Together with the all too familiar feeling of having bitten off considerably more than he could chew. ‘And what exactly is it fronting? What could be more lucrative than charging people the earth to do something illegal and about which they can never complain or demand their money back?’
Geoffrey gestured. ‘Well, if you’ll step this way then I’ll show you.’
‘We’re going outside?’ said Jane, remembering to be alarmed. ‘I didn’t think that was allowed.’
Luke patted her arm. ‘Jane, Jane, we’re fully-fledged law-breakers now. We can do things which aren’t allowed. In fact, it’s rather expected of us. Although – and I’m experiencing the same misgivings as Jane but being braver about it – are we really going outside? Is it safe? I’m not sure what’s required in the way of shots but I’m certain I haven’t had any of them.’
‘You won’t need them. You are about to enter a sterile area.’
Luke was openly scornful. ‘Here?’
‘Yes.’ Mr Geoffrey leaned over and manipulated the screen. The camera panned sharply and both Luke and Jane experienced a moment’s disorientation. Mr Geoffrey was obviously not an expert.
The screen now showed a very large, flat-roofed, prefabricated complex. Circular modules had all been bolted together to form a building of some considerable size. Some units were single and some two storeys, which gave the whole building a random, higgledy-piggledy look. As if the modules had been bolted on as required rather than being planned as a whole. All the units were painted in shades of camouflage grey and white, which rendered them almost invisible in this landscape. Snow covered the roof and was piled up in steep drifts around the sides.
‘No electric fence?’ asked Luke, mockingly.
‘Power is a continuing problem here. Batteries are unwieldy. Wind power is too unreliable, and even though the sun does shine, it’s not for long enough.’
Luke, who hadn’t expected a reply, stared at Mr Geoffrey. ‘You mean this is an actual working building?’
‘Of course.’
‘People live here?’
‘Many people live here.’
‘And work here?’
‘Of course.’
‘How many?’
‘I can’t say at the moment – it fluctuates, you understand – but there are usually around thirty people on site. We’re very proud of what we’ve achieved here.’
Luke squinted at the screen. ‘What exactly have you achieved here? What is this?’
Mr Geoffrey was clearly enjoying himself. ‘This is what is making us all very rich. Shall we go?’
The two pilots had opened a locker stuffed full of grey and white cold weather gear.
‘Boots,’ said Smallhope, pulling out a pair for Jane. ‘They fit over your normal footwear.’ She regarded Jane’s sensible shoes with approval. ‘One size fits just about everyone. Trousers first, obviously, then boots, then jacket. You’ll find gloves in the pocket, and keep your hood up if you don’t want to lose your ears. It’s very cold out there and the wind-chill factor makes it even worse.’
Luke opened another locker and began to pull out a set of clothing. About to take out his boots, he stopped suddenly and stared at the locker. Casting a swift glance at Mr Geoffrey, who was making a bit of a meal of getting into his gear, he stepped closer, squinting for a long time until Mr Geoffrey zipped up his jacket and got to his feet. ‘Are we ready?’
‘Nearly,’ said Luke, sitting down and grappling with his own clothing.
‘How far are we going?’ said Jane, regarding the snowy landscape with a not entirely assumed lack of enthusiasm.
‘It’s only a short walk to the facility,’ said Mr Geoffrey, pulling on his gloves. ‘I’m sorry about the inconvenience but we really don’t want to land too close to our operations. We certainly don’t want to materialise inside.’
‘Why not?’
‘We don’t have the space and then there’s all the problems of contamination, that sort of thing.’
‘What sort of contamination? What is this place?’
‘It’s a sort of medical facility.’
‘Sort of?’
‘Yes. If you’re quite ready . . .’
The two pilots had been pulling on their own gear. Now they lined up at the door.
Geoffrey turned abruptly. ‘We don’t need you.’
‘We don’t need you either, mate,’ said Pennyroyal, ‘but we have supplies to deliver and empties to take back.’ He gestured at the crates.
Mr Geoffrey’s attempt to gain lost authority was pathetic. ‘Very well, carry on.’
The two pilots were, in fact, already carrying on regardless. Luke winked at Jane and they all stepped out into the cold. The icy, biting cold. The shock of it nearly took her breath away. She’d never been so cold in her life. She was certain she could feel the hairs in her nostrils freezing over. Beside her, Luke was doubled over, coughing.