“I have none. Well… I’m a pacifist. Don’t approve of politics.” He shrugged. “But if you need your research funded or your balloon tested, there are limited options.” He gave another apologetic shrug and there was a pause before he looked across at Jack curiously, “Well I have given you my story,” he said, “perhaps you should tell me how you come to be here…” Jack started to feel nervous as the professor’s blue eyes drilled into him. “You seem maybe a bit young to be a regular sailor in the king’s navy. And the escapade back down there might suggest that you are maybe, shall we say… in trouble?”
Jack weighed up his options. Should he tell the truth? He said the first thing that came into his head.
“Oh that’s easy. I’m Jack Christie. I’m a time traveller from the future — and I’m being chased by time police who want to kill me.”
For a moment, there was silence as the balloon cut through the sky. Then the professor shook as he let out a second wheezy, high-pitched laugh, “Excellent, excellent!” he cried. “Jack Christie — you and I are going to get along very well. Very well indeed…” He then scrabbled inside his bags again, chortling to himself, long after Jack’s remark ceased to be remotely funny.
“More chocolate?”
Professor August Pinckard-Schnell might be as mad as a March hare — but at least he was making Jack feel better.
“Thanks professor.”
Soon, the professor became distracted. He rose once more from his position, sniffed the air, looked about and then moved around the basket from one corner to the next. “Now, we need to make sure we prepare ourselves properly… it is all about optimising our chances.” He checked the burner, which had not yet been used, and ensured that all the gas cylinders were properly secured. He looked up towards the gas bag above, which completely overshadowed them, inspecting it carefully. He glanced several times at the afternoon sun, narrowing his eyes, and then scribbled in a scruffy notebook. This went on for a full ten minutes while Jack hunkered down in his corner of the basket.
When the professor finished he announced, “We seem to be maintaining our height. Still going east, or more south east, really. Fast, we are travelling fast. Maybe eighty kilometres an hour. Although it does not feel that fast.” He pondered what all this might mean, “If we keep going at this rate, well…” he grinned, “a world record! Easily. A world record for manned flight!”
“I’m very happy for you.”
“We should maybe try to increase our height a little… what do you say, Jack? Would you like to try the burner?”
Jack was not quite sure what he meant, but then the professor pointed at the large metal burner in the middle of the basket.
“It’s easy, quite safe,” the professor said. “You just do this.” He pulled a lever and there was an ear-splitting whoosh as a large flame licked up towards the aperture underneath the balloon, way above their heads. The professor smiled reassuringly and gestured for Jack to have a go. Jack put his hand on the lever and repeated the procedure. Again, there was a roar as the flame from the burner shot skywards. He jumped back and watched as the flame receded, soon replaced by the silent sky as they sailed on. Reassured that the procedure had not resulted in the balloon going up in a ball of flames, Jack gained a little more confidence, and took a second opportunity to inspect the breathtaking view from their vantage point. Soon his remaining fear melted away — replaced by a surging exhilaration. The air was like crystal and you could see a hundred and sixty kilometres in every direction.
“Funny,” Jack remarked. “No vapour trails.”
The professor looked at him oddly, “No what?”
“You know, vapour trails. I was just thinking, professor, it’s funny that you can’t see any vapour trails from all the jets… there’s usually loads…” Jack suddenly realised what he had said and his voice trailed off self-consciously, “even where I live…”
The professor looked puzzled. “‘Jet’, ‘vapour trail’ — these are English expressions I have not heard before…”
Jack grimaced, “Sorry professor, doesn’t matter, it’s just where I come from… we have some funny words for stuff — there’s a bunch more I probably need to teach you as well, like ‘Google’, ‘iPod’, and ‘Global Warming’. That kind of thing.” He shrugged, “But you won’t need to worry about any of them.”
The professor frowned, “I see… oh well… you must, er, tell me what they mean… sometime.” He put his notebook back in his bag and began to busy himself with retrieving some more provisions. Soon he had laid out quite a feast. Sausages were produced, bread and some cheese.
“I hope this is OK…” the professor said airily.
They ate and the professor probed again.
“So, come Jack — the truth now… what were you really doing aboard the ship… Had you stowed away? Maybe trouble with your family — at home? Maybe I can help?”
Jack considered his options again. It was going to be difficult to brush off the truth, however unbelievable. And his earlier blunder about there being no aeroplanes in the sky could easily be repeated. More importantly, he knew he was still in danger — he had escaped Tony and Gordon once — but with all the technology they seemed to have at their disposal, they could easily turn up again. Maybe the bizarre Professor August Pinckard-Schnell was right and he could help in some way. He seemed kind, if eccentric. Honesty, however unbelievable, was probably the best policy. He glanced at the professor, toying with a piece of cheese, took a deep breath and launched into the incredible events of the last few hours. As he did so, the professor studied him with a look of amused scepticism.
After he had finished, the professor put his hand over his mouth to hide a doubting smile, “Well it’s an impressive story, Jack, but I’m not sure it is quite believable…” He clearly thought that the strange waif he had inadvertently rescued either had an over-active imagination or had escaped from the local lunatic asylum. To be fair, Jack could see his point.
Then he had a brainwave. He reached inside his rucksack. It was still there: the history book. In triumph, he tossed it over to the professor and it landed at his crossed feet on the other side of the basket. It blew open and the crisp white pages ruffled provocatively in the breeze.
“Well — if you don’t believe me — take a look at that.”
The professor took the book gingerly in his hands and leafed slowly through the pages. As he did so, the expression on his face changed.
Jack looked at him smugly, “It might be difficult for me to make all that up. Published in the year 2006 for a start… a few years from now I think you’ll find. It would be hard for me to create the detail in there — the whole history of the war… all the horror… the pictures…”
The professor’s amused scepticism evaporated and after a while he raised his head and looked at Jack with ashen-faced incredulity. He tried to say something, making a couple of false starts in the process, “But…”, “How did…?” and finally, he muttered, “So this war of yours, this ‘Great War’, it really happens?”
“Oh yes, Professor, it happens alright.”
“It’s incredible. It cannot be true.”
“Incredible. And true. Either that, or it’s a complete nightmare. And I’ve fallen asleep in Pendelshape’s class…”
The professor was concentrating intensely, his brow deeply furrowed, as he thumbed the book with increasing fervour. He began to speak to himself in a quick-fire stream of German as his brain tried to come to terms with Jack’s revelations. “Well, I suppose, the new physics; of course I am familiar with this. Einstein, Planck — relativity, quantum mechanics. The new physics has incredible conceptual leaps. Few understand it, and probably none can comprehend the implications. But nothing like this, surely… surely not…”
The professor shook his head in awe as the enormity of it all started to sink in.
“The consequences of this are… profound… and this war, you say it kills, how many?”
“I’m not sure. I think around eight million… over sixty million are mobilised.” Jack reached over and located a table at the back of the book that he remembered seeing. He showed it to the professor — statistics of the dead by country. The professor gawped at the numbers.
“In fact, I believe your own country, Germany, suffers greatly. Nearly two million dead. And Germany loses
