Thats up to the phone. Its always had a mind of its own.
He laughed. Sir Gadget! Tell me what you have surmisedas best you can, incomplete as it may be. I order it!
The phone said, Bisesa
She had set up nanny safeguards to ensure the phone didnt say too much to the British. But now she shrugged. Its okay, phone.
The thirteenth century, the phone whispered.
Ruddy leaned closer. When?
Its hard to be more exact. The changes in the stars positions are slightmy cameras are designed for daylight, and I have to take long-exposure imagesthe clouds are a pain in the ass There are a number of lunar eclipses in the period; if I observe one of those I may be able to pin it down to the exact day.
The thirteenth century, though, Ruddy breathed, and he peered up at a cloud-littered sky. Six centuries from home!
For us, eight, Bisesa said grimly. But what does that mean? It might be a thirteenth-century sky, but for sure the world we are standing on isnt thirteenth-century Earth. Jamrud doesnt belong there, for instance.
Josh said, Perhaps the thirteenth century is aa foundation. Like the underlying fabric onto which the other fragments of time, making up this great chronological counterpane of a world, have been stitched.
Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, the phone said.
Bisesa shrugged. I think its more complex than bad.
Ruddy lay back against the rock, hands clasped behind his broad head, the clouds reflected in his thick glasses. The thirteenth century, he said wistfully. What a marvelous journey this is turning out to be. I thought I was coming to the NorthWest Frontier, and that was adventure enough, but to be whisked to the Middle Ages! But I admit it isnt wonder I feel at the moment. Nor even fear, over the fact that we are lost.
Josh sipped his lemonade.
What, then?
Ruddy said, When I was five years old I was sent to stay with foster parents in Southsea. Its a common practice, of course, for if youre an parent you want your children to be grounded in Blighty. But at five I knew nothing of that. I hated that place as soon as I set foot in itLorne Lodge, the House of Desolation!I was punished regularly, in truth, for the dreadful crime simply of being me. My sister and I would comfort ourselves by playing at Robinson Crusoe, never dreaming I would one day become a Robinson Crusoe in time! I wonder where poor Trix is now But what hurt most about my situation, I see now, was that I had been abandonedas I saw it thenbetrayed by my parents, and left in that desolate place of misery and pain.
And so it is here, Josh mused.
Once I was abandoned by my parents, Ruddy said bitterly. Now we are abandoned by God Himself.
That silenced them for a while. The night seemed huge, under a sky populated even by alien stars. Bisesa hadnt felt quite so stranded since the moment of the Discontinuity, and she ached for Myra.
Abdikadir said gently, Ruddy, your parents meant the best, didnt they? Its just that you didnt understand how you felt.
Josh said, Are you suggesting that whoever is responsible for what has happened to the worldGod or notactually means well?
Abdikadir shrugged.
We are human, and the world has been transformed by forces that are clearly superhuman. Why should we expect to understand the motives behind such forces?
Ruddy said, All right. But do any of us actually believe there can be benevolence behind this meddling?
Nobody replied.
14. Last Orbit
Suddenly it was their last orbit: perhaps the last orbit of Earth ever to be traveled by humans, Kolya thought wistfully. But the necessary preparation was unchanged, and once their training kicked in, the three of them began to work together as effectively as they had since the start of this strange adventure. In fact Kolya suspected they were all comforted by the familiar routine.
The first task was to pack the living compartment with their garbageincluding most of the contents of their post-landing survival kit, already consumed. Sable stowed her scavenged ham radio gear in the descent compartment, however, for it could still be useful after landing.
Now it was time to suit up. They took turns in the living compartment. First Kolya pulled on his elasticized trousers, tight enough to squeeze body fluids up toward his head, which ought to help him avoid fainting after the landinginvaluable but grossly uncomfortable. Next he pulled himself into the suit itself. He had to climb in legs first through a hole in the stomach area. The inner layer, of a tough rubbery material, was airtight, and the outer layer, of a hardy man-made fabric, was equipped with pockets, zippers and flaps. Under gravity this assembly would have been all but impossible to don without the support of the ground crew. But here he thrashed around until he got his legs in place, his arms in the sleeves, the back fitting snugly. He was used to his suit; it even smelled like him, and in case of disaster it would save his life. But after the freedom of weightlessness he felt as if he had been locked up inside a tractor tire.
Suited up, he scrambled back down into the descent compartment. The three of them strapped in. Musa had them don their helmets and gloves, and ran a pressure check on the suits.
For the last time the Soyuz passed over India, and their radio footprint reached Jamrud. The little speaker Sable had rigged to her ham radio gear crackled to life.
Othic calling Soyuz, come in. Soyuz, Othic, come in
Musa called, Soyuz here, Casey. How is our trusty capcom today?
The rain is pissing on me. More important, how are you?
Musa glanced at his crew. We are strapped in, tight as three bugs in a rug. Our systems check out, despite the additional time we have spent in orbit. We are ready for the descent.
That Soyuz is a tough old bird.
That she is. I will be sorry to say good-bye to her.
Musa, you understand we have no way of tracking you. We wont know where you come down.
We know where you are, Musa said. We will find you, my friend.
God and Karl Marx willing.
Kolya, suddenly, urgently, didnt want this contact to be lost. They were all aware that Casey and his people were just another handful of castaways, as lost and helpless as they were. But at least Caseys was a twenty-first century voice, reaching them from the ground; it was almost as if they had touched home again.
I must say something. Musa put his hand to his wraparound headset. Casey, Bisesa, Abdikadirand Sable and Kolyaall of you. We are far from home. We have come on a journey whose nature we cant even grasp. And I think its clear that this new world, made of patches snipped from space and time, is not ours: it is made from pieces of Earth, but it is not Earth. So I think we should not call this new world, our world, Earth. We need a new name.
Casey said, Like what?
I have thought about this, Musa said. Mir. We should call this new planet Mir.
Sable guffawed. You want to call a planet after an antique Russian space station?
But Kolya said, I understand. In our language the word Mir can mean both world and peace.
We like the idea down here, Casey said.
Then Mir it is, said Musa.
Sable shrugged. Whatever, she said cruelly. So you got to name a world, Musa. But what does a name matter?
Kolya murmured, You know, I wonder where we would all be if we hadnt happened to be in just that bit of the sky, just at that moment.
Casey said, Too much double dome horseshit for a jock like me. I cant even keep rain out neck.
Musa glanced at Kolya. Your signal is breaking up.
Yeah likewise losing you
Yes. Good-bye for now, Casey
wont be a welcome back. Welcome to your new homewelcome to Mir!