Blackout

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Authors: Connie Willis

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BOOK: Blackout
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ALSO BY CONNIE WILLIS

Lincoln’s Dreams
Doomsday Book
Impossible Things
Uncharted Territory
Remake
Bellwether
Fire Watch
To Say Nothing of the Dog
Miracle and Other Christmas Stories
Passage

To Courtney and Cordelia
,
who always do
far
more
than their bit
.

Contents

Cover Page

Other Books by this Author

Title Page

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1 - Oxford—April 2060

Chapter 2 - Warwickshire—December 1939

Chapter 3 - Balliol College, Oxford—April 2060

Chapter 4 - Warwickshire—February 1940

Chapter 5 - Oxford—April 2060

Chapter 6 - Oxford—April 2060

Chapter 7 - Oxford—April 2060

Chapter 8 - Oxford—April 2060

Chapter 9 - Warwickshire—Spring 1940

Chapter 10 - Saltram-on-Sea—29 May 1940

Chapter 11 - Oxford—April 2060

Chapter 12 - Saltram-on-Sea—29 May 1940

Chapter 13 - Dulwich, Surrey—13 June 1944

Chapter 14 - Warwickshire—May 1940

Chapter 15 - Kent—April 1944

Chapter 16 - London—15 September 1940

Chapter 17 - London—7 May 1945

Chapter 18 - Backbury, Warwickshire—May 1940

Chapter 19 - London—17 September 1940

Chapter 20 - Dulwich, Surrey—14 June 1944

Chapter 21 - The English Channel—29 May 1940

Chapter 22 - London—17 September 1940

Chapter 23 - London—18 September 1940

Chapter 24 - Dunkirk—29 May 1940

Chapter 25 - Dulwich—15 June 1944

Chapter 26 - Warwickshire—May 1940

Chapter 27 - Kent—April 1944

Chapter 28 - London—19 September 1940

Chapter 29 - Dunkirk, France—29 May 1940

Chapter 30 - London—20 September 1940

Chapter 31 - War Emergency Hospital—Summer 1940

Chapter 32 - Warwickshire—August 1940

Chapter 33 - London—21 September 1940

Chapter 34 - En Route to London—9 September 1940

Chapter 35 - London—21 September 1940

Chapter 36 - War Emergency Hospital—Summer 1940

Chapter 37 - London—10 September 1940

Chapter 38 - War Emergency Hospital—August 1940

Chapter 39 - London—21 September 1940

Chapter 40 - London—22 September 1940

Chapter 41 - War Emergency Hospital—September 1940

Chapter 42 - London—September 1940

Chapter 43 - London—26 September 1940

Chapter 44 - War Emergency Hospital—September 1940

Chapter 45 - En route to London—29 September 1940

Chapter 46 - War Emergency Hospital—September 1940

Chapter 47 - London—October 1940

Chapter 48 - London—25 October 1940

Chapter 49 - London—25 October 1940

Chapter 50 - London—25 October 1940

Chapter 51 - London—25 October 1940

Chapter 52 - Oxford Street—26 October 1940

Chapter 53 - London—17 September 1940

About the Author

Copyright

History is now and England
.

—T. S. E
LIOT
,
F
OUR
Q
UARTETS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I want to say thank you to all the people who helped me and stood by me with
Blackout
as it morphed from one book into two and I went slowly mad under the strain: my incredibly patient editor, Anne Groell, and my long-suffering agent, Ralph Vicinanza; my even longer-suffering secretary, Laura Lewis; my daughter and chief confidante Cordelia; my family and friends; every librarian within a hundred-mile radius; and the baristas at Margie’s, Starbucks, and the UNC student union who gave me tea—well, chai—and sympathy on a daily basis. Thank you all for putting up with me, standing by me, and not giving up on me or the book. But most especially, I want to thank the marvelous group of ladies at the Imperial War Museum the day I was there doing research—women who, it turned out, had all been rescue workers and ambulance drivers and air-raid wardens during the Blitz, and who told me story after story that proved invaluable to the book and to my understanding of the bravery, determination, and humor of the British people as they faced down Hitler. And I want to thank my
wonderful
husband, who found them, sat them down, bought them tea and cakes, and then came to find me so I could interview them. Best husband ever!

Come then: Let us to the task, to the battle, to the toil—each to our part, each to our station, there is not a week, nor a day, nor an hour to lose
.

—WINSTON CHURCHILL, 1940

Oxford—April 2060

COLIN TRIED THE DOOR, BUT IT WAS LOCKED. THE PORTER
, Mr. Purdy, obviously hadn’t known what he was talking about when he’d said Mr. Dunworthy had gone to Research.
Blast it. I should have known he wasn’t here
, Colin thought. Only historians prepping for assignments came to Research. Perhaps Mr. Dunworthy’d told Mr. Purdy he was going to
do
research, in which case he’d be in the Bodleian Library.

Colin went over to the Bodleian, but Mr. Dunworthy wasn’t there either.
I’ll have to go ask his secretary
, Colin thought, loping back to Balliol. He wished Finch was still Mr. Dunworthy’s secretary instead of this new person Eddritch, who would probably ask a lot of questions. Finch wouldn’t have asked any, and he’d have not only told him where Mr. Dunworthy was, but what sort of mood he was in.

Colin ran up to Mr. Dunworthy’s rooms first, on the off chance Mr. Purdy hadn’t seen Mr. Dunworthy come back in, but he wasn’t there either. Then he ran across to Beard, up the stairs, and into the outer office. “I need to see Mr. Dunworthy,” he said. “It’s important. Can you tell me where—?”

Eddritch looked at him coldly. “Did you have an appointment, Mr.—?”

“Templer,” Colin said. “No, I—”

“Are you an undergraduate here at Balliol?”

Colin debated saying yes, but Eddritch was the sort who would check to see if he was. “No, I will be next year.”

“If you’re applying to be a student at Oxford, you need the Provost’s Office in Longwall Street.”

“I’m not applying to be a student. I’m a friend of Mr. Dunworthy’s—”

“Oh, Mr. Dunworthy has told me about you.” He frowned. “I thought you were at Eton.”

“We’re on holiday,” Colin lied. “It’s vital that I see Mr. Dunworthy. If you could tell me where he—”

“What did you wish to see him about?”

My future
, Colin thought.
And it’s none of your business
, but that obviously wouldn’t get him anywhere. “It’s in regard to an historical assignment. It’s urgent. If you could just tell me where he is, I—” he began, but Eddritch had already opened the appointment book. “Mr. Dunworthy can’t see you until the end of next week.”

Which will be too late. Blast, I need to see him
now,
before Polly comes back
.

“I can give you an appointment at one o’clock on the nineteenth,” Eddritch was saying. “Or at half past nine on the twenty-eighth.”

What part of the word
“urgent”
do you not understand?
Colin thought. “Never mind,” he said and went back downstairs and out to the gate to see if he could get any more information out of Mr. Purdy. “Are you certain Research was where he said he was going?” he asked the porter, and when he said yes, “Did he say where he was going after that?”

“No. You might try the lab. He’s been spending a good deal of time there these past few days. Or if he’s not there, Mr. Chaudhuri may know where he is.”

And if he’s not there I can ask Badri when Polly’s scheduled to come back
. “I’ll try the lab,” Colin said, debating whether to ask him to tell Mr. Dunworthy he was looking for him if he returned. No, better not. Forewarned was forearmed. He’d have a better chance if he sprang it on him suddenly. “Thanks,” he said and ran down to the High and over to the lab.

Mr. Dunworthy wasn’t there. The only two people who were were Badri and a pretty tech who didn’t look any older than the girls at school. They were both bent over the console. “I need the coordinates for October fourth, 1950,” Badri said. “And—what are you doing here, Colin? Aren’t you supposed to be at school?”

Why was everyone acting like a truant officer?

“You haven’t been sent down, have you?”

“No.”
Not if they don’t catch me
. “School holiday.”

“If you’re here to talk me into letting you go to the Crusades, the answer is no.”

“The
Crusades
?” Colin said. “That was
years
ago—”

“Does Mr. Dunworthy know you’re here?” Badri asked.

“Actually, I’m looking for him. The porter at Balliol told me he might be here.”

“He was,” the tech said. “You only just missed him.”

“Do you know where he was going?”

“No. You might try Wardrobe.”

“Wardrobe?”
First Research and now Wardrobe. Mr. Dunworthy was obviously going somewhere. “Where is he going? St. Paul’s?”

“Yes,” the tech said. “He’s researching—”

“Linna, I need those coordinates,” Badri said, glaring at her. The tech nodded and went over to the other side of the lab.

“He’s going to St. Paul’s to rescue the treasures, isn’t he?” Colin asked Badri.

“Mr. Dunworthy’s secretary should know where he is,” Badri said and walked back to the console. “Why don’t you go over to Balliol and ask him?”

“I did. He wouldn’t tell me anything.”

And Badri clearly didn’t want to either. “Colin,” he said, “we’re very busy here.”

The tech, Linna, who’d come back with the coordinates, nodded. “We have three retrievals and two drops to do this afternoon.”

“Is that what you’re doing now?” Colin asked, walking over to look at the draped folds of the net. “A drop?”

Badri immediately came over and blocked his way. “Colin, if you’re here to attempt to—”

“Attempt to what? You act as if I’m planning to sneak into the net or something.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“And if I hadn’t, Mr. Dunworthy would have died, and so would Kivrin Engle.”

“That may be the case, but it doesn’t mean you can make a habit of it.”

“I wasn’t. All I wanted—”

“Was to know if Mr. Dunworthy was here. He’s not, and Linna and I are extremely busy,” Badri said. “So if there’s nothing else—”

“There is. I need to know when Polly Churchill’s retrieval is scheduled for.”

“Polly Churchill?” Badri said, immediately suspicious. “Why are you interested in Polly Churchill?”

“I’ve been helping her with her prep research. For the Blitz. I need to be here when she comes through to—” He began to say, “to give it to her,”
but Badri was likely to tell him to leave it instead and they’d give it to her. “—to tell her what I’ve found,” he amended.

“We haven’t scheduled her retrieval yet,” Badri said.

“Oh. Is she going straight to her Blitz assignment when she gets back?”

Linna shook her head. “We still haven’t found her a drop site—” she began, but Badri cut her off with another glare.

“It isn’t going to be flash-time, too, is it?”

“No, real-time,” Badri said. “Colin, we’re extremely busy.”

“I know, I know. I’m going. If you see Mr. Dunworthy, tell him I’m looking for him.”

“Linna, see Colin out,” Badri said, “and then bring me the spatial-temporal coordinates for Pearl Harbor on December sixth, 1941.”

Linna nodded and escorted Colin to the door. “Sorry. Badri’s been in a foul mood this past fortnight,” she whispered. “Polly Churchill’s retrieval is scheduled for two o’clock Wednesday next.”

“Thanks,” Colin whispered back, grinned crookedly at her, and ducked out the door. Wednesday. He’d hoped it would be on the weekend so he wouldn’t have to sneak away from school again, but at least it wasn’t
this
Wednesday. He had over a week to talk Mr. Dunworthy into letting him go somewhere. If Mr. Dunworthy was going to rescue the treasures, Colin might be able to talk him into doing research in the past for him. If he was still at Wardrobe. He loped over to the Broad, down to Holywell, along the narrow street to Wardrobe, and up the stairs, hoping he hadn’t missed him again.

He hadn’t. Mr. Dunworthy was standing in front of the mirror in a tweed blazer at least four sizes too large for him, and glaring at the cowering tech. “But the only tweed jacket we had in your size has already been taken in to fit Gerald Phipps,” she was saying. “He had to have a tweed jacket because he’s going to—”

“I
know
where he’s going,” Mr. Dunworthy bellowed. He suddenly noticed Colin. “What are you doing here?”

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