Breaking free from the cornice, they found themselves swinging high above the next valley. The weight of the snow in the basket forced the balloon downwards alarmingly. With only their bare hands, Jack and the professor desperately shovelled snow out of the basket to reduce weight. Ahead, they could see that they were now heading for a large expanse of snow and ice, spread wide on a plateau resting below the next ridge. A glacier. They made contact — hard. The basket bounced once and the snow, deep frozen from the night before, exploded into a sparkling cloud of icy vapour. Their journey wasn’t finished. The balloon still had momentum and it continued to drag them at speed across the rising plateau of the glacier. They were now lying on one side and Jack and the professor were pressed into the wicker floor by snow rapidly accumulating inside. They were helpless. But finally, the angle of the glacier pitched upwards and the balloon decelerated. The momentum of the balloon began to slow and they came to a gentle rest.
Jack was encased in snow. He couldn’t believe the weight of the stuff — he could hardly move. It was in his ears, his eyes, his mouth. He pressed his legs into the bottom of the basket, and with a momentous heave managed to wrench himself free. He tumbled out onto the glacier and lay on his back, panting heavily. A moment later, the professor managed to do the same and they both lay — prostrate and exhausted — staring up at the Alpine sky. They looked back at the tangled mess of the balloon and the trail of material their landing had sprayed onto the pristine ice shelf. The professor managed to lift his head a little further to inspect the damage.
“I hope the Royal Navy don’t want their balloon back,” he said, and promptly dropped his head back onto the snow. Jack was too bruised and drained to respond, but just for a second, he smiled.
Way above them on the same mountain, two men watched the spectacle of the balloon’s crash landing and its occupants’ fortunate escape. The men were well equipped and wore skis. Quietly, they slid from the shoulder of the mountain and started to carve regular turns in the slope of deep powder snow. The steep slopes at the top of the glacier, in the early morning, even at this time of year, made for outstanding powder skiing. They put in neat regular turns, to control their descent.
Towards the bottom of the initial descent the slope levelled out and gave way to the main glacier field. The men made their way to where the balloon and its contents were strewn over the glacier. In minutes they arrived where Jack and the professor still lay. The glare of the morning sun was intense and Jack was only able to open his eyes into a thin slit. But the two figures who now appeared in his narrow field of vision were unmistakeable — Tony and Gordon.
Tony stared down at them both, surrounded by the wreckage of the accident.
“Well you’ve made a bit of a mess of this little lot, haven’t you son?” Tony said. The moisture on his breath instantly condensed to vapour in the freezing air.
“Bit of a mess…” Gordon parroted.
Jack could only stare back at them defiantly.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” Tony said.
The professor got to his feet, shakily, but still managed a smile. “Professor Pinckard-Schnell — delighted to meet you.” He thrust out a hand, “Are you here to rescue us? You’ve been very quick.”
Tony and Gordon looked at each other and laughed.
“You could say that, professor, you could say that,” Gordon replied.
Tony turned to Jack who still lay prostrate on the snow. He leaned down and Jack flinched.
Tony put up his palms defensively, and said, “Whoa lad — let me help you now.” For a moment, Jack was taken aback — his tone was almost… kind. He helped Jack into a sitting position, dusted down the snow and then started to examine him — looking into his eyes for symptoms of concussion and checking for other signs of injury.
Soon he pronounced himself satisfied, “A bit battered and bruised — but you’ll live.” He turned to the professor, “What about you my friend? Looks like you could do with something for that nose.”
The professor was holding his hand under both nostrils and they were still bleeding profusely. “Thank you.”
Gordon took some cotton wool from his rucksack and started to wipe the blood from the professor’s face. “Not as bad as it looks, Professor. It’s not broken anyway. A lucky escape.”
Tony shook his head, “Yep — it looked quite a heavy landing from up there. You had us worried for a moment…”
He turned his attention back to Jack, who was regaining some composure, “Now, son, first things first, we’ve got very disappointing news for you… It appears, under strict orders from VIGIL, that no harm is to come to you… and we are to take you back to base — safely.”
“It’s disappointing, because my foot still hurts from where you impaled it…” Gordon added.
“Never mind that. Anyway, rules, as they say, is rules. So we’d better get going.” Tony looked up at the sky, “At least the weather doesn’t look like it will turn.”
Jack didn’t understand why, having tried to assault him back at the control room and aboard
“You’re safe, son. That’s all you need worry about. The Rector will explain everything.”
A million questions rushed into Jack’s head. “The Rector but…? How did you get here anyway? And where are we going?”
Tony tapped his breast pocket knowingly, “With time travel you can go anywhere… any time.”
“When it decides to work…” Gordon added grumpily.
Tony ignored him. “Save your energy lad. You’ll need it.” He half turned, and gestured down towards the glacier and the wilderness beyond. “Let’s just concentrate on getting off this mountain, first.” Then he shook his head and said, “Oh, I nearly forgot. I’m afraid that you will need to hand it over.”
“Hand what over?”
“The time phone, of course. Can’t have you gallivanting around space and time. No end to the trouble you’ll cause. Have caused. Once you’re debriefed, we’ll get you back home…” he added with a rueful smile, “Safely. Don’t you worry about that.” He put out his hand, “If you please.”
Jack rummaged in his pocket and fished out his time phone. He clutched onto it for a moment, then reluctantly dropped it into Tony’s vast leathery hand.
“Thank you, lad. We will put that one safely away with ours.”
Tony and Gordon roped Jack and the professor together and they made their way down the edge of the glacier. Eventually, it gave way to steep moraine fields. They picked their way through until they reached the tree line. A gentle breeze hissed through the fir canopy as they followed an old trapping trail. Later on, the forest opened onto a large expanse of high pasture, an
Jack had been in the mountains before. Last year his mum had let him go on the school skiing trip. But that had been nothing like this. It had been busy: lots of people, the mechanical whirring of lifts, barging in queues, the slopes dotted with people in ant trails all competing to find the best way down. But here, there was nobody. The air was champagne clear; the greens were somehow greener and the sky bluer — beyond empty and beyond silent.
They had been going for five hours, and even with regular breaks and provisions from Tony and Gordon, Jack was exhausted. At last, they emerged onto the broad valley floor. Ahead of them was a river that wound its way lazily through the fields. It looked quite deep in places, even though the spring thaw was well past. About three kilometres away they could see a small town, with the rounded spire of a chapel peeking above the tiled rooftops. Slightly beyond this, a craggy outcrop jutted out from the side of the valley, rising to perhaps two hundred metres, maybe more. A castle had been built high up on the exposed lump of black rock. It had narrow windows like slits and at least three sub turrets with conical roofs projecting from high stone sides. It dominated the valley.
As Jack wearily craned his head up at the castle, it slowly dawned on him that he could not see any possible
