| Contents | Act 1 |
The weather in Nameless, being governed mainly by plot requirements, was of an almost Chestertonian unpredictability. The town's permanent and temporary residents had learned that the opportunities presented by a fine day should not be lightly ignored, and on a hot, cloudless day like the one on which this story opens, nearly everyone headed straight for the beach.
Samantha Briggs looked around at the other members of her party. Victoria, pale and elegant in a full-length white cotton dress, was reclining under a parasol. Zoë had put on her swimsuit but didn't seem to have the energy for swimming; she was lying on her towel with her eyes shut, neither completely awake nor completely asleep. Isobel Watkins, with the aid of sunglasses, a bikini, a cocktail glass, and a copy of 'Thunderball', was contriving to give the impression that James Bond might whisk her away on an adventure at any moment. And Gia Kelly, hardly recognisable in shirt and shorts and with her hair down, was entirely absorbed in trying to finish her melting ice cream before it disintegrated completely.
"You know what?" Samantha said.
Isobel languidly looked up. "What?"
"We look like we belong in an anime. You know, the sort with one lad and millions of girls. We could call it 'Jamie's Angels'." She looked along the beach. "Where's he got to?"
"He promised he'd be here," Victoria said patiently. "Stop fretting, Samantha. That must the the twentieth time you've asked."
"Twenty-third," mumbled Zoë, without opening her eyes.
Gia gulped down the last of her ice cream.
"Could you pass the sunscreen?" she said. "Thanks."
Samantha obligingly handed over the tube of lotion, which Gia began to apply to her face and arms.
"What is it with you girls from the future?" Samantha asked. "Put that much on and you'll be as pasty tomorrow as you were today. Zoë's just the same."
"You should pay more attention to the dangers of ultraviolet radiation," Gia replied. "We're following the latest World Zones Authority health guidelines."
"Mmmm," agreed Zoë.
"Anyway, I was always taught that fair skin is a sign of elegance," Victoria said, making sure she was completely within the shade of the parasol.
"Yeah, but being tanned's cooler," said Samantha.
"You won't look very cool when you're bright red all over," Isobel said. "And your gear really doesn't cry out 'sophistication' to me."
"You what? When I went to New Brighton in this, everyone said it was the grooviest thing they'd ever seen."
"That's what I meant," Isobel replied, with all the disdain of a London fashion photographer for anything outside the capital. "It's so provincial."
Before Samantha could retort, she was distracted by female shrieks and wolf- whistles from further along the beach. She looked round, and discovered the cause: Jamie was strolling nonchalantly in their direction, clad only in tartan swimming trunks and flipflops, and carrying a rolled-up towel.
"Sorry I'm late, lassies," he said as he arrived. "Guid tae see ye all."
There was a general chorus of welcome from Victoria, Samantha, Isobel and Gia; Zoë managed to mutter "Hello" but still didn't open her eyes. Jamie glanced over the gathering and picked a spot between Victoria and Isobel. As he spread out his towel, a bulky volume was revealed.
"What's that?" Gia asked.
Victoria leaned over.
"The complete works of William Shakespeare," she said. "You're doing very well with your reading, Jamie. I'm so proud of you."
"Ah, well, I've got my reasons," Jamie said.
"You're up to something, aren't you?" Samantha asked. "I've never seen you look so guilty."
Isobel sipped at her cocktail. "I have."
"Never mind that," Jamie said hastily.
"So what's the game, then?" Samantha persisted.
Gia didn't laugh - she rarely did - but the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.
"The game's afoot," she said. "Elementary, my dear Samantha. Jamie is planning to read Shakespeare to the children in the nursery."
There was a sharp intake of breath, and Zoë was suddenly sitting bolt upright, wide awake, her face as pale as the zinc oxide cream on her nose.
"Jamie, you're not!" she gasped.
"Oh, and what if I was?" He looked from her to the others. "I was hoping one of you lassies might come and lend a hand. Keep the children quiet, ye ken, and help me if I come across a tricky word."
"I'd rather not go back there if I can help it," Zoë said firmly. "And I strongly advise the rest of you not to either."
"Och, it wasnae so bad as all that."
"There are times, Jamie, when not having an eidetic memory is a positive blessing. I think this is one of them."
"Are ye saying I've forgotten it? I mind it fine. Including the bit where Izzy said afterwards how well we'd coped."
"She said how well you'd coped. I'm sure that was on purpose. And if she'd come back any earlier... it doesn't bear thinking about."
Jamie looked around, grinning.
"D'ye want tae know what the real reason is Zoë's so scared?" he said. "She's afraid her wee sister will get the better of her again."
"You mean the toddler version of her?" Isobel asked.
"That's what I said."
"Oh, Jamie!" Zoë protested. "That's not fair. I had to look after all the other children as well."
"She still wiped the floor wi' you. Anyway, perhaps one of these other lassies feels like helping instead. Only not you, Gia. I need you tae do something else for me."
"It sounds a bit risky," Victoria said nervously.
"Isobel?"
Isobel shook her head. "I'm with Zoë. Once was enough, and by the sound of it I got off lightly."
"Samantha?"
"I'm up for it." She looked defiantly at Isobel, Victoria and Zoë. "I'm not frightened of anything. So, when do we start?"
"Not just yet." Jamie stretched his arms. "I want tae make the most of today. Who feels like a swim?"
- * -
"Have a jellied eel," Isobel said.
Zoë took an experimental nibble. "Interesting," she said. "Not a flavour they have in a standard food machine. I think I could get used to it, given time. First introduced in the eighteenth century; commonly sold in London and some seaside resorts..."
Isobel slapped her gently on the wrist. "Bad Zoë. Stop behaving like a database."
Victoria, who'd just returned from a dip in the sea, towelled her hair.
"Are you sure a sophisticated person would eat jellied eels?" she asked teasingly.
Isobel laughed. "I think it's a bit late to worry about that now."
"You're right," Victoria admitted. "We look positively wild."
"Well, you can blame that on Jamie. Once he'd buried me in the sand I gave up on glamour for the day."
"Where is he, by the way?" Zoë asked.
"I haven't seen him. Or Samantha or Gia. I thought they'd gone swimming with you two."
Zoë shoved her Alice band back into place. "They did. But then they said they'd come back here to see if you'd got back yet with the food."
"So, to put it bluntly, they've diddled us and gone off on their own," Isobel summarised.
Victoria groaned. "It's this Shakespeare business. I hoped Jamie would see sense when we spoke to him earlier."
"What, round here?"
"I know. Samantha's a wonderful person, but she does egg him on. And now he's gone off with her and Gia and I know they're going to get into trouble."
"Can't be helped," said Isobel, and started on another eel. "If he wants to get into trouble we can't stop him."
Victoria gave her a disapproving look.
"You two are just as irresponsible," she said. "Sometimes I think I'm the only sensible person here." She picked up her parasol, and rose to her feet. "I'm going after them."
"One, you don't know where they've gone," Zoë pointed out reasonably. "Two, just because Jamie's being silly we shouldn't let him spoil our day. Three, it's too hot to go running around after him. And four, if you insist on doing the running around you should at least change into some dry clothes first."
Victoria reluctantly rejoined them.
"We can always track them down tomorrow morning and talk them out of it," Zoë continued. "Let's meet up at the Round at nine."
"Now try to relax," Isobel said. "Have one of these eels."
- * -
The following day, the weather was damp, with sea mist that obstinately refused to clear. When Victoria finally turned up at the Round, a few minutes after ten, the place seemed almost empty. Though some of that might have been down to Polly's odd behaviour.
"Morning, Peri," was her opening gambit.
Victoria instinctively checked to see if her demure dress had mysteriously changed into a bright pink lycra number with a plunging neckline — stranger things than that happened all the time in the vicinity of the Round — and, being reassured that it hadn't, sought an explanation.
"Why did you call me that?" she asked.
"Oh, aren't you? Sorry. What name, please?"
Victoria closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I hope you aren't joking; I'm not sure I could stand it now. Who do you think I am? Alice Liddell?"
Polly ran her finger down the list.
"Oh, yes. Cameo in 'Fear in a Handful of Dust', by Robin Carroll-Mann. My apologies, Miss Liddell. Do go in."
Victoria gave her a baffled look, and did so.
Polly, or rather Michelle, relaxed. She thought she'd probably got away with it, but it was beginning to dawn on her that impersonating the Round's door warden was harder than it looked.
Adric was idly polishing the bar, but looked up with concern as Victoria approached.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
Victoria swallowed.
"Upset stomach," she said. "And I didn't get to sleep until the small hours."
"Can I get you anything?"
"No, I couldn't face it. I was supposed to be meeting Isobel and Zoë here an hour ago, except I didn't wake up in time. Have you seen them?"
Adric shook his head. "I only just got here myself."
"Well, if you see them, tell them I was here."
"Where can they find you?" he asked.
"I don't know. Somewhere out there." And with that, she set out in the direction of Nameless. The mist swallowed her.
- * -
Even by mid-afternoon, visibility was wretched, and everyone seemed to be indoors. Jamie and Samantha, who'd spent most of the morning reading through the play they'd chosen, encountered hardly anybody on the streets.
"Here we are," Samantha said, checking the sketch map Gia had given her. "Are you sure this is right? It just looks like an electricity substation."
Jamie shrugged. "One way tae find out."
He knocked three times on the door, a sturdy steel panel painted a faded green. It slid open, revealing a staircase leading down.
"Seems you're right," Samantha said. "Come on."
At the bottom of the staircase, a short passage led to a cavernous hall, laid out in the same utilitarian manner as the substation above, and full of equipment whose purpose could only be guessed at. Cables from the ceiling ran down into cabinets painted an institutional grey colour. A huge coil the size of a small car stood in the middle of the floor, encrusted with support circuitry. Another similar coil, partly dismantled, was closer to the entrance. Against one wall were several glass booths, about the height of a telephone kiosk, but twice as wide. A complicated control panel faced them.
Not far from the control panel was a large desk, mostly stacked with circuit boards and tools, but with some areas left clear. In one such area, Gia Kelly was sitting, wearing a utilitarian jumpsuit and with her hair back in its usual ponytail.
"You're in good time," she said, climbing down off the desk.
"I really don't get you," Samantha said. "You work on stuff like this all day. What d'you want to do it for in your spare time as well?"
"I enjoy it," Gia said shortly. "Now, you're ready to proceed as we discussed last night?"
Jamie and Samantha nodded.
"Then take booth number two. I've tested it this morning and it seems to be in working order."
Jamie stepped cautiously into the cubicle. Samantha jumped cheerfully in alongside him.
Gia walked around to the far side of the control panel, and methodically activated a set of switches. Several of the larger free-standing machines began to glow or hum ominously.
"Power build-up complete," she said. "Are you ready?"
"When you are," Samantha said. "Beam us up, Scot— No, that won't work, will it? Scotty's in here with me."
Gia ignored her and bent over the controls.
| Contents | Act 1 |