Doomsday Book (Oxford Time Travel, #1) - Connie Willis Page 0,124

Knowing the difficulty of finding techs over vac, I telephoned one in Reading. He can be here tomorrow.”

Gilchrist pursed his lips disapprovingly. “None of this would be necessary if your tech hadn’t fallen ill, but as he has, I suppose this will have to do. Have him report to me as soon as he arrives.”

Dunworthy managed to say good-bye civilly, but as soon as the screen went blank he slammed the receiver down, yanked it up again, and began stabbing numbers. He would find Basingame if it took all afternoon.

But the computer came on and informed him all lines were engaged again. He laid the receiver down and stared at the blank screen.

“Are you waiting for another call?” Colin asked.

“No.”

“Then can we walk over to Infirmary? I’ve a present for great-aunt Mary.”

And I can see about getting Andrews into the quarantine area, he thought. “Excellent idea. You can wear your new muffler.”

Colin stuffed it in his jacket pocket. “I’ll put it on when we get there,” he said, grinning. “I don’t want anyone to see me on the way.”

There was no one to see them. The streets were completely deserted, not even any bicycles or taxis. Dunworthy thought of the vicar’s remark that when the epidemic took hold people would hole up in their houses. Either that, or they had been driven inside by the sound of the Carfax carillon, which was not only still banging away at “The Carol of the Bells” but seemed louder, echoing through the empty streets. Or they were napping after too much Christmas dinner. Or they knew enough to keep in out of the rain.

They saw no one at all until they got to Infirmary. A woman in a Burberry stood in front of the Casualties Ward holding a picket sign that said “Ban Foreign Diseases.” A man wearing a regulation face mask opened the door for them and handed Dunworthy a very damp flyer.

Dunworthy asked at the admissions desk for Mary and then read the flyer. In boldface type it said “fight influenza, vote to secede from the ec.” Underneath was a paragraph: “Why will you be separated from your loved ones this Christmas? Why are you forced to stay in Oxford? Why are you in danger of getting ill and dying? Because the EC allows infected foreigners to enter England, and England doesn’t have a thing to say about it. An Indian immigrant carrying a deadly virus—”

Dunworthy didn’t read the rest. He turned it over. It read, “A Vote for Secession is a Vote for Health. Committee for an Independent Great Britain.”

Mary came in, and Colin grabbed his muffler out of his pocket and wrapped it hastily around his neck. “Happy Christmas,” he said. “Thank you for the muffler. Shall I open your cracker for you?”

“Yes, please,” Mary said. She looked tired. She was wearing the same lab coat she had had on two days ago. Someone had pinned a cluster of holly to the lapel.

Colin snapped the cracker.

“Put your hat on,” he said, unfolding a blue paper crown.

“Have you managed to get any rest at all?” Dunworthy asked.

“A bit,” she said, putting the crown on over her untidy gray hair. “We’ve had thirty new cases since noon, and I’ve spent most of the day trying to get the sequencing from the WIC, but the lines are jammed.”

“I know,” Dunworthy said. “Can I see Badri?”

“Only for a minute or two.” She frowned. “He’s not responding at all to the synthamycin, and neither are the two students from the dance in Headington. Beverly Breen is a bit improved.” She frowned. “It worries me. Have you had your enhancement?”

“Not yet. Colin’s had his.”

“And it hurt like blood,” Colin said, unfolding the slip of paper inside the cracker. “Shall I read your motto for you?” She nodded.

“I need to bring a tech into the quarantine area tomorrow to read Kivrin’s fix,” Dunworthy said. “What must I do to arrange it?”

“Nothing, so far as I know. They’re trying to keep people in, not out.”

The registrar took Mary aside, and spoke softly and urgently to her.

“I must go,” she said. “I don’t want you to leave till you’ve had your enchancement. Come back down here when you’ve seen Badri. Colin, you wait here for Mr. Dunworthy.”

Dunworthy went up to Isolation. There was no one at the desk, so he wrestled his way into a set of SPG’s, remembering to put the gloves on last, and went inside.

The pretty nurse who had been so interested in William was