‘It’s getting stuck in an infinite loop,’ said Steven patiently. ‘That’s because you’ve forgotten to increment the counter.’
The program was failing to respond and Jacob didn’t know what to do next.
They had been working on the computer for about an hour – the Earth computer, that is. Steven was teaching his son some programming of a rather more complex nature than that offered by the school curriculum.
Jacob was undeniably interested in these computing lessons, but today he was finding it difficult to concentrate. His attention kept straying to the Brick on the desk, hoping that a message would appear on screen or that the purple button would begin to flash. But nothing happened.
Steven leant over him and added the missing instruction. The program was successfully restarted. ‘There,’ he said. ‘That fixes it.’
Jacob was paying little attention. His mind was definitely elsewhere. He tried hard to turn his thoughts to the work in hand. But it was no use. He could hold back no longer.
‘Can we look in on York again, Dad?’ he said. ‘To see how they are doing, to check how Nesta is?’
‘No,’ said his father. ‘We can’t. We are not here as spectators. We watch only when required and we watch only what we are meant to see. It is not a game.’
‘We looked yesterday, without any summons,’ said Jacob.
‘There are rules,’ said Steven loftily. ‘I do break them occasionally, but that doesn’t mean I don’t respect them. Yesterday was, I know now, a mistake.’
‘So when do we next watch what happens there?’ said Jacob.
‘Unless I hear to the contrary,’ said Steven, ‘I shall be watching out for the departure of their ship one week today. It is scheduled to leave at two a.m. on Sunday the twenty-fourth. I shall settle down to inspect some time before midnight on Saturday. It will be a tedious couple of hours, no doubt, but we are meant to err on the side of safety.’
This was news to Jacob. He had assumed the work was finished and that all they would be doing was watching that two a.m. take-off. What safety was his father talking about?
‘Something could go wrong?’ asked Jacob anxiously.
‘Unlikely,’ said his father. ‘Ninety-nine point nine per cent unlikely. But we shall watch, nevertheless.’
‘If anything did go wrong, could you help?’ said Jacob. He thought anxiously about Nesta needing to be rescued from a ship running out of control.
‘Nothing will go wrong,’ said Steven adamantly.
‘But if it did?’
‘It would have to go in my report,’ said his father irritably. ‘How much power do you think we have?’
Steven did not tell Jacob about the call he had the following Thursday, late at night. He had been filing a report on an action in Oxford where his intervention had been necessary – and successful. Suddenly, just as he was thinking of retiring for the night, the purple button began to flash. On screen came the words:
NESTA HAS DISAPPEARED
That was all. Steven gave a yawn and slipped the lever that permitted speech.
‘What do you mean? Disappeared?’
In his tired state, he was thinking that Nesta had somehow shrunk ‘out of context’. He found himself hoping that it would not all turn too complicated, especially if it should involve an immediate visit to the spaceship. He didn’t relish the thought of trekking up Swains Lane so late at night in weather that was far from clement.
NESTA’S PARENTS ARE UNABLE TO FIND HER
‘Why can’t they find her?’ said Steven. ‘She’s probably hiding somewhere. Kids are like that. They think it’s fun. Tell them to check the cupboard under the stairs. That’s a favourite place.’
SHE HAS LEFT A MESSAGE. SHE HAS RUN AWAY
‘That’s serious,’ said Steven more soberly, ‘but it doesn’t sound like work for me. I have never been asked to deal with a runaway before. I wouldn’t know where to begin.’
DO WHATEVER YOU CAN
Steven sighed. He made a fruitless attempt to set up some sort of trace on her. He knew from the start that it would be futile. Nesta did not want to be found and no one knew where she had gone. Even terrestrial sources gave no clues at all. Compared with this search, finding Vateelin on the bonnet of that car in Morpeth had been a piece of cake.
‘It can’t be done!’ he said angrily to the screen, after he had played around with the controls for over an hour. There was simply nothing to go by, nothing to hold on to.
IT CAN’T BE DONE
‘That’s what I’ve just said.’
‘Precisely. And the girl does not want to be found.’
THE GIRL DOES NOT WANT TO BE FOUND
Steven drew a breath of frustration. The communicator was being even more obtuse than usual.
‘And if she does not return in time,’ said Steven firmly, ‘then the Gwynns must return without her. The clock cannot be reset again.’
PRECISELY
In the days that followed, Steven avoided talking about the Gwynns. Whenever Jacob mentioned them, he took evasive measures and changed the subject. If his son was so concerned about the well-being of that girl in York it would be cruel to tell him that Nesta had run away from home rather than face the journey to Ormingat.