The Eyre Affair_ A Novel - Jasper Fforde [288]
“But—”
“You mustn’t be so linear,” said my father. “Although I try to visit only in your chronological order, sometimes it’s not possible.”
He paused.
“Did I suffer much pain?”
“No—none at all,” I lied.
“It’s funny,” he said as he filled the kettle, “I can recall everything up until final curtain minus ten, but after that it’s all a bit fuzzy—I can vaguely see a rugged coastline and the sunset on a calm ocean, but other than that, nothing. I’ve seen and done a lot in my time, but my entry and exit will always remain a mystery. It’s better that way. Stops me getting cold feet and trying to change them.”
He spooned some coffee into the Cafetiere. I was glad to see that I had only witnessed Dad’s death and not the end of his life, as the two, I learned, are barely related at all.
“How are things, by the way?” he asked.
“Well,” I began, unsure of where to start, “the world didn’t end yesterday.”
He looked at the low winter sun that was shining through the kitchen windows.
“So I see. Good job too. An Armageddon right now might have been awkward. Have you had any breakfast?”
“Awkward? Global destruction would be awkward?”
“Decidedly so. Tiresome almost,” replied my father thoughtfully. “The end of the world could really louse up my plans. Tell me, did you manage to get me a ticket to the Nolans’ concert last night?”
I thought quickly.
“Er—no, Dad—sorry. They’d all sold out.”
There was another pause. Mum nudged her husband, who looked at her oddly. It looked as if she wanted him to say something.
“Thursday,” she began when it became obvious that Dad wasn’t going to take her cue, “your father and I think you should take some leave until our first grandchild is born. Somewhere safe. Somewhere other.”
“Oh yes!” added Dad with a start. “With Goliath, Aornis and Lavoisier after you, the herenow is not exactly the best place to be.”
“I can look after myself.”
“I thought I could too,” grumbled Lady Hamilton, gazing longingly at the cupboard where the cooking sherry was hidden.
“I will get Landen back,” I replied resolutely.
“Perhaps now you might be physically up to it—but what happens in six months’ time? You need a break, Thursday, and you need to take it now. Of course, you must fight—but fight with a level playing field.”
“Mum?”
“It makes sense, darling.”
I rubbed my head and sat on one of the kitchen chairs. It did seem to be a good idea.
“What have you in mind?”
Mum and Dad exchanged looks.
“I could downstream you to the sixteenth century or something, but good medical care would be hard to come by. Upstreaming is too risky—and besides, SO-12 would soon find you. No, if you’re going to go anywhere, it will have to be sideways.”
He came and sat down next to me.
“Henshaw at SO-3 owes me a favor. Between the two of us we could slip you sideways into a world where Landen doesn’t drown aged two.”
“You could?” I replied, suddenly perking up.
“Sure. But steady on. It’s not so simple. A lot will be . . . different.”
My euphoria was short-lived. A prickle rose on my scalp.
“How different?”
“Very different. You won’t be in SO-27. In fact, there won’t be any SpecOps at all. The Second World War will finish in 1945 and the Crimean conflict won’t last much beyond 1854.”
“I see. No Crimean War? Does that mean Anton will still be alive?”
“It does.”
“Then let’s do it, Dad.”
He laid a hand on mine and squeezed it.
“There’s more. It’s your decision, and you have to know precisely what is involved. Everything will be gone. All the work you’ve ever done, all the work you will do. There will be no dodos or neanderthals, no Willspeak machines, no Gravitube—”
“No Gravitube? How do people get around?”
“In things called jetliners. Large passenger aircraft that can fly seven miles high at three-quarters of the speed of sound— some even faster.”
It was plainly a ridiculous idea, and I told him.
“I know it’s far-fetched, sweetpea, but you’ll never know any different. The Gravitube will seem as impossible there as jetliners do here.”
“What about mammoths?”
“No—but there will be ducks.”
“Goliath?”
“Under a different