To The Stars

“Of course. I’m coming.” He buttoned the ragged but heavy coat, fighting down the feeling of despair. He took her hand as they felt their way down the dark hallway, and did not release it again until they were out in the street.

Twenty-One

It was the first time in his life that Jan had been aboard a London omnibus. He had driven past them often enough without giving them a thought. Tall, double-decked, and silent, driven by the energy captured in the large flywheel beneath the floor. During the night thick cables would hook the bus to the electrical mains, using the powerful motor to run up the revolutions of the flywheel. During the day the motor became a flywheel-driven generator to power the electric drive motors. Reliable power, nonpolluting, cheap, practical. He knew that, the theory, hut he hadn’t known how cold the unheated vehicle could be, how littered with rubbish, thick with the smell of unwashed bodies. He held his bit of ticket and looked out at the cars that passed and vanished down the road ahead. The bus stopped for a traffic light and two Security police got on.

Jan stared straight ahead, just as the other people on the bus did, staring at the rigid face of Sara sitting across from him. One of the men stayed by the rear entrance while the other stamped the length of the bus, looking at everyone there. No one glanced his way or appeared aware of him.

The next time the bus stopped the two of them left. Jan felt relief for a few moments, then the fear returned. Would it ever go away again?

They got down at the last stop, Hammersmith Terminal. Sara went ahead and he followed well behind as be had been instructed. The few other passengers dispersed and they were alone. Above them a car thrummed by on the elevated highway of the M4. Sara headed for the darkness of the arches that supported it. A small man with bent shoulders stepped out to meet her. She waved Jan to join them.

“Hello, hello, you nice people come with me. Old Jemmy will show you the way.” The man’s scrawny neck seemed too thin to support the globe of his head. His eyes were round and staring, his fixed smile empty of any teeth. He was a fool — or a very good actor. Sara took Jan’s arm as they followed Old Jemmy into the totally dark and empty streets, among the rows of ruined houses.

“Where are we going?” Jan asked.

“For a little walk,” Sara said. “just a few miles they say. We have to get past the London Security barrier before we can get transportation.”

“Those friendly police who used to salute me when I drove by?”

“The very same ones.

“What happened to all the houses here? They’re in ruins?”

“London used to be much bigger, centuries ago, many more people. I don’t know the exact figures. But population, over the entire country, was cut back to a smaller replacement level. Partly by disease and starvation, partly government policy.”

“Don’t tell me how they did it. Not tonight.”

They were too tired to talk much after that. Plodding slowly after Old Jemmy who found his way unerringly in the darkness. He went even slower when lights appeared ahead.

“No talking now,” he whispered. “Microphones about. Stay in the shadows right behind me. No noise neither or we’re dead’uns.”

Between two of the ruined buildings they had a brief glimpse of a cleared area ahead, well lit, with a tall wire fence down the center of it. They were very close when their guide led them into one of the buildings, an old warehouse of some kind. Out of sight of the road he produced a small flashlight and turned it on; they stumbled after the gleaming circle of light, deep into the ruins, down into the arched cellars below. He pulled some rubble and rusted sheet metal aside to uncover a door.

“In we goes,” he said. “I’m coming last to close up.

It was a tunnel, damp and smelling of raw earth. Jan could not stand up fully and had to walk in a tiring hunched manner. It was long and straight and undoubtedly went under the Security barrier. There was muddy ice underfoot and they skidded across sizeable frozen puddles. Jemmy caught them up and passed them, leading the way again with his light. Jan’s bent back was burning like fire before they reached the far end.

“Gotta keep quiet for a bit, like the other end,” their guide warned as they emerged again into the frigid night. “A bit more walking and we’re there.”

The bit more was over an hour and Sara did not think she could make it. But Old Jemmy was far stronger than he looked, so he and Jan walked on each side of her, half supporting her. They were paralleling the motorway now and could clearly see the headlights sweeping by in both directions. An island of light appeared ahead in the darkness and they headed for it.

“Heston services,” Old Jemmy said. “End of the line. You got a bit of shelter in this house here and you can spy from the window.”