Butler No MoreChapter 8
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“That is so. My fellow wife seems to be happily married to my husband.”
“Oh? You have a triple marriage yourself?”
“Indeed. Our colony has its own laws, and one of these sets no limits on spouses, as long as all involved are happy with the situation. They have to sign an affidavit to that effect before the marriage can take place. Still interested?
“I have to consult with my ladies before I can answer that, ma’am.”
“Wise decision, sergeant. Do so now.”
Catherine was looking at John with awe. She said to him, “John darling, I had suspected, but I never knew for certain about Daddy. I had a sheltered upbringing. If what you say is true, and I believe you are telling the truth, I want to go to the colony and marry you and Elizabeth there, if you will both have me. I want to be well away from any wrongdoing that Daddy may be involved in, much as I love him as a father.”
“Elizabeth? How do you react? Want a job on Home colony, and marriage to me and Catherine?”
“You hardly have to ask, John. You know the answer is yes. Tell the lady, Mrs Kempe, that we are on her list for emigration, whenever that can take place. How long does it take to get on the list for shipping out, and how long does the voyage take? Do we have to undergo hibernation, and is it dangerous?”
Mrs Kempe came back on the line. “Right. If you are serious about it, you fly out by RAF plane from Brize Norton to Ascension Island, and a Landership – an alien spaceship – will collect you from there. Flight time to Home Colony is variable: about an hour to get to orbit; some more time, indeterminate, to reach the transfer point. A similar period is involved in getting from the transfer point to the de-orbit down to Home colony. The elapsed time between the transfer points is a fraction of a second, by my best guess. Effectively instantaneous, though. Total time, planet to planet, three or four hours on average. Suit you?”
John was decisive. “Agreed, colonel. You must have an understanding husband, if you have such power in your hands as security chief.”
She laughed. “He is like putty in my hands, sergeant, except for one thing. My husband is the Governor of the Colony, so he outranks even me.”
“Oh. That tops anything that I could say, colonel. How do we make arrangements to get that flight to Ascension?”
“I have your names and other details for all three of you, sergeant. I will pass them to Ascension, and you will get a call to tell you when to appear at Brize Norton. It will be within a day or two. Baggage is only what you can carry between you; contents optional, except no Earth organisms other than humans.”
“I nearly forgot to ask you: how does this telephone call work between planets?”
“Simple. Before the instantaneous transfer of matter, there was a similar transfer of data. That is what you are getting now, in the form of a phone call.”
“Thanks, Colonel, for all your help. We will await that call from the RAF.”
After the call concluded, John was concerned. “How the hell could a woman on another planet know so much about what was going on here in England?”
Elizabeth pointed out, “She said she had Special Forces contacts, so that is why she knew so much about you.”
“Yes, but how come she knew your original first name? She must have had access to police records to find that.” He hesitated as he pondered, then brightened and concluded, “The Personalia. That’s where her data is coming from. They must mine data from any database they can get into. She must have close contacts with these alien spaceships. That’s why she didn’t know about Catherine. The Dawes family stays off databases as far as they can. Databases can link you to various crimes without you realising it, and Mr. Dawes was on to that. That was the reason he had changed his surname.”
“What?” asked Catherine. “Changed his surname? How do you know that?”
“Because your father told me, Catherine.”
“That’s most peculiar. Why would he tell you his former name, if he was hiding it? When did he offer this revelation?”
“When I told him that you and I were an item, Catherine. He wanted to know what was my real name, behind the Jeeves title. I told him it was John Hawkins Freeman, and in his surprise he admitted that his original surname was the same – Freeman.”
“You mean I am already a Freeman, even before I marry you, John?”
“Correct, my love. You are already Catherine Freeman, if you care to use that surname.”
Elizabeth huffed, “So I changed the wrong name? Instead of changing my first name, I should have changed my surname by deed poll to Freeman!”
“You can do that by marrying me and Catherine at Home Colony, my darling, once we discover what jobs Mrs Kempe has in mind for us.”
Elizabeth’s phone rang again. “What now?” she queried, picking up the call.
“We gather that this is Felicity Frobisher’s telephone. May we speak with Mr John Hawkins Freeman?”
Elizabeth thrust the phone at John. “It is for you again.”
He answered, saying, “Hello. John Freeman here.”
“This is The Personalia. We have a provisional booking for you on a flight to Ascension from Brize Norton RAF base at 2000 hours tomorrow. Is this suitable for you and your two companions?”
“Uh, yes. We could make it, I think. Hang on.” He turned to his ladies. “Brize Norton, 2000 hours tomorrow. Doable?”
Elizabeth simply nodded, Yes. Catherine looked confused for a minute, then threw up her hands. “Yes. I am in. I will be with you, John. All we need is a car.”
As John turned back to the phone, the caller spoke to him, “A police car has been arranged to take you three from Constable Frobisher’s home to the air base. It will be at her home at midday tomorrow, if you are now ready to leave for Home Colony.”
John was flabbergasted, but decided to go with the flow. “We accept. We will be ready at that time, at Constable Frobisher’s home.”
“Thank you, John Hawkins Freeman. Three places have been allocated for you on a Landership at Ascension, three hours after your scheduled arrival. That should give you time for a quick meal before departure to Home Colony. Any questions? If not, goodbye.”
John spread his hands in an upward direction, in a sign of being unable to do anything about the situation. “It looks like we are committed, girls. Better start packing for our future. Remember, only what we can carry. I travel light, but can carry a lot, so I can take extra if you have anything you are desperate to keep by you. Decision time, my loves. Get to it.”
On the dot at midday, a police car drew up as planned, and the three were standing on the pavement with their cases and bags. The driver said, “Destination, please?”
John told him, “Brize Norton.”
The driver said, “Thank you. That was the password. Please all get in the back seat.” He remained in his own seat.
The three opened the back doors and loaded themselves in, putting their baggage at their feet for the relatively short trip. The driver was watching, and when they closed the doors, he called back, “All loaded?”
John confirmed it, and the car set off smoothly. The driver said nothing more, just concentrated on the driving. At the end of the road, they were joined by a police motorcyclist who sped ahead to ensure that there would be no holdups at junctions. At times he held up traffic to let them through, then chased after them and onward to the next bottleneck.
Elizabeth was impressed. “You don’t get this sort of treatment even if you are a superintendent. Someone has clout with the Met, it seems. Must be The Personalia, or whoever is running things at Ascension, or a combination of both. They clearly don’t want us to miss our flight.”
John was easy with that. “Don’t let’s knock it, darling. Just go with the flow, and see where it takes us. This is quite an adventure for all of us.”
“Give me a cuddle, then, John. I am not used to being noticed in a big way.”
Catherine intruded, “That goes for both of us, John dear, so you can cuddle us both to reassure us.”
John did so, and settled back with the girls on either side, with his arms round them. At one point he noticed the driver’s eyes reflected in the car internal mirror, and smiled contentedly at the envy he saw.
Their arrival at Brize Norton was again like a personality coming to visit, and as they swept inside the gates without any checks, John recognised that someone high up in the military had ordered this, either to honour them, or get them out of his hair. Their police car delivered them to the terminal, and decanted them into the hands of a couple of servicemen who rushed them to the departure lounge. The men saw them through the door, saluted, and left. The Departure Lounge staff seemed to know who they were, and made little attempt to examine their luggage, other than demand that there be no live material within.
They reassured their handlers on this point, and signed an affidavit to that effect.
They were treated to a snack lunch at the coffee shop in the departure lounge, and given a voucher for an evening meal as the take-off was at 8 pm. In addition, a female staff member was allocated to escort them whilst there, and assist them with any problem they might have.
Catherine asked the woman sweetly whether their treatment was in any way unusual. She responded, “I wouldn’t know, miss. I was just told to act as your liaison for today, until your flight time. I certainly haven’t been asked to do this previously.”
She asked innocently, “Do you have lots of people flying to Ascension?”
The woman replied, “Just the one flight today, miss. It is an Airbus A346 military charter, so very comfortable. The number of passengers for Ascension varies quite a bit. Curiously, Ascension seems to have more people flying to it than flying back. Perhaps the base there is being expanded.”
Catherine concluded that sensitive information was restricted to those who needed to know, as this woman apparently was not aware that Ascension was the departure point for the Earth colony on another planet. It made sense to her, mathematically. Keeping such numbers down significantly reduced the chances of data leaking to the general public.
Check-in closed three hours before the flight, so she made certain they were checked in well before that, then encouraged them to eat before flying. “It is a long flight, and you will get standard airline food on the way there, but here you have a wider choice of what to eat, and it is much better food!”
She was right. Before boarding, the trio thanked her for her assistance, and she appeared to appreciate the praise. The flight itself was much like any long distance flight. It was run by a private company on charter to the RAF, but being a military flight from a military airfield, there were no restrictions on taking liquids and such aboard, which surprised them.
Ascension was a surprise in itself. The island was totally volcanic, with the air base being the largest stretch of flat land on the island. Incongruously, the base seemed to be controlled by Americans, but this was soon explained. Ascension airbase was leased to the Americans, but with a proviso of assistance to the UK where required. The Falklands war had been the prime example of this, when Britain needed it for its long-distance flights. The island base in 1982 became for a brief time the busiest airport in the world, with bombers and tankers coming and going, plus all the freight aircraft delivering supplies, and passenger aircraft delivering essential personnel, but now it was the transit point for the Earth Colony in another solar system. John told his girls that he had read of men arriving and doing their assigned tasks, then being flown straight back to the UK, as there was no provision for surplus personnel.
There was little sign of the interstellar nature of the island. There were plenty of army personnel in evidence, along with some navy people, but most of the military in evidence were still RAF or USAF people. They expected to see gantries for spacecraft take-offs, but there was none.
Despite that, there was no sign of the place being operated as any kind of space base; none at all. In some ways this felt weird, but the busy people all around seemed to think nothing of it. Transport aircraft appeared to be the most frequent fliers, with supplies being offloaded and taken to warehouses near the harbour, if you could call it a harbour. It was more of a stone pier, extended somewhat to cater for larger ships. The pier could not go much further out, for with the island being a volcano, the slopes of the seabed below dropped dramatically downwards after a short distance. Any further extension would have to be a floating pier sticking out into the Atlantic.
The trio were welcomed by the base director: unexpectedly, a British Army General. The idea of a general running a small island garrison seemed ludicrous, but he explained his task.
“My name is Lieutenant General Thomson. I am responsible for supplies to our new colony, on behalf of the United Nations. This is a world operation, and Ascension is just the funnel through which everything goes. The position of Ascension is unique: 900 miles from our nearest neighbour, so isolated enough that interplanetary traffic can pass through without being noticed.
The bulk of the supplies arrive by ship, but a small proportion of more urgent items arrive by air. We have physical restraints as far as size and shape are concerned. Like all air freight, it has to be able to go through a cargo door and into the hold. In the case of the Colony, the aircraft is replaced by an alien spaceship known as a Landership.
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