spend the two weeks."
"If she makes it there," Dunworthy said.
"James," Mary said.
"What precautions have you taken to ensure that the friendly traveller who happens along every 1.6 hours doesn't decide to cart her off to the convent at Godstow or a brothel in London or see her come through and decide she's a witch ? What precautions have you taken to ensure that the friendly traveller is in fact friendly and not one of the cutthroats who waylay 42.5 per cent of all passersby?"
"Probability indicated there was no more than a 0.04 per cent chance of someone being at the location at the time of the drop."
"Oh, look, here's Badri already," Mary said, standing up and putting herself between Dunworthy and Gilchrist. "That was quick work, Badri. Did you get the fix all right?"
Badri had come away without his coat. His lab uniform was wet and his face was pinched with cold. "You look half-frozen," Mary said. "Come and sit down." She motioned to the empty place on the settle next to Latimer. "I'll fetch you a brandy."
"Did you get the fix?" Dunworthy said.
He was not only wet, he was drenched. "Yes," he said, and his teeth started to chatter.
"Good man," Gilchrist said, standing up and clapping him on the shoulder. "I thought you said it would take an hour. This calls for a toast. Have you any champagne?" he called out to the barman, clapped Badri on the shoulder again, and went over to the bar.
Badri stood looking after him, rubbing his arms and shivering. He seemed inattentive, almost dazed.
"You definitely got the fix?" Dunworthy asked.
"Yes," he said, still looking after Gilchrist.
Mary came back to the table, carrying the brandy. "This should warm you up a bit," she said, handing it to him. "There. Drink it down. Doctor's orders."
He frowned at the glass as if he didn't know what it was. His teeth were still chattering.
"What is it?" Dunworthy said. "Kivrin's all right, isn't she?"
"Kivrin," he said, still staring at the glass, and then seemed suddenly to come to himself. He set the glass down. "I need you to come," he said, and started to push his way back through the tables to the door.
"What's happened?" Dunworthy said, standing up. The creche figures fell over, and one of the sheep rolled across the table and fell off.
Badri opened the door on the carillon's clanging of "Good Christian Men, Rejoice."
"Badri, wait, we're to have a toast," Gilchrist said, coming back to the table with a bottle and a tangle of glasses.
Dunworthy reached for his coat.
"What is it?" Mary said, reaching for her shopping bag. "Didn't he get the fix?"
Dunworthy didn't answer. He grabbed up his overcoat and took off after Badri. The tech was already halfway down the street, pushing his way through the Christmas shoppers as if they weren't even there. It was raining hard, but Badri seemed oblivious to that, too. Dunworthy pulled his overcoat more or less on and shoved into the crowd.
Something had gone wrong. There had been slippage after all, or the first-year apprentice had made an error in the calculations. Perhaps something had gone wrong with the net itself. But it had safeties and layereds and aborts. If anything had gone wrong with the net, Kivrin simply wouldn't have gone through. And Badri had said he'd got the fix.
It had to be the slippage. It was the only thing that could have gone wrong and the drop still take place.
Ahead Badri crossed the street, narrowly avoiding a bicycle. Dunworthy barged between two women carrying shopping bags even larger than Mary's and over a white terrier on a leash, and caught sight of him again two doors up.
"Badri!" he called. The tech half-turned and crashed straight into a middle-aged woman with a large flowered umbrella.
The woman was bent against the rain, holding the umbrella nearly in front of her, and she obviously didn't see Badri either. The umbrella, which was covered with lavender violets, seemed to explode upward, and then fell top-down onto the pavement. Badri, still
"If she makes it there," Dunworthy said.
"James," Mary said.
"What precautions have you taken to ensure that the friendly traveller who happens along every 1.6 hours doesn't decide to cart her off to the convent at Godstow or a brothel in London or see her come through and decide she's a witch ? What precautions have you taken to ensure that the friendly traveller is in fact friendly and not one of the cutthroats who waylay 42.5 per cent of all passersby?"
"Probability indicated there was no more than a 0.04 per cent chance of someone being at the location at the time of the drop."
"Oh, look, here's Badri already," Mary said, standing up and putting herself between Dunworthy and Gilchrist. "That was quick work, Badri. Did you get the fix all right?"
Badri had come away without his coat. His lab uniform was wet and his face was pinched with cold. "You look half-frozen," Mary said. "Come and sit down." She motioned to the empty place on the settle next to Latimer. "I'll fetch you a brandy."
"Did you get the fix?" Dunworthy said.
He was not only wet, he was drenched. "Yes," he said, and his teeth started to chatter.
"Good man," Gilchrist said, standing up and clapping him on the shoulder. "I thought you said it would take an hour. This calls for a toast. Have you any champagne?" he called out to the barman, clapped Badri on the shoulder again, and went over to the bar.
Badri stood looking after him, rubbing his arms and shivering. He seemed inattentive, almost dazed.
"You definitely got the fix?" Dunworthy asked.
"Yes," he said, still looking after Gilchrist.
Mary came back to the table, carrying the brandy. "This should warm you up a bit," she said, handing it to him. "There. Drink it down. Doctor's orders."
He frowned at the glass as if he didn't know what it was. His teeth were still chattering.
"What is it?" Dunworthy said. "Kivrin's all right, isn't she?"
"Kivrin," he said, still staring at the glass, and then seemed suddenly to come to himself. He set the glass down. "I need you to come," he said, and started to push his way back through the tables to the door.
"What's happened?" Dunworthy said, standing up. The creche figures fell over, and one of the sheep rolled across the table and fell off.
Badri opened the door on the carillon's clanging of "Good Christian Men, Rejoice."
"Badri, wait, we're to have a toast," Gilchrist said, coming back to the table with a bottle and a tangle of glasses.
Dunworthy reached for his coat.
"What is it?" Mary said, reaching for her shopping bag. "Didn't he get the fix?"
Dunworthy didn't answer. He grabbed up his overcoat and took off after Badri. The tech was already halfway down the street, pushing his way through the Christmas shoppers as if they weren't even there. It was raining hard, but Badri seemed oblivious to that, too. Dunworthy pulled his overcoat more or less on and shoved into the crowd.
Something had gone wrong. There had been slippage after all, or the first-year apprentice had made an error in the calculations. Perhaps something had gone wrong with the net itself. But it had safeties and layereds and aborts. If anything had gone wrong with the net, Kivrin simply wouldn't have gone through. And Badri had said he'd got the fix.
It had to be the slippage. It was the only thing that could have gone wrong and the drop still take place.
Ahead Badri crossed the street, narrowly avoiding a bicycle. Dunworthy barged between two women carrying shopping bags even larger than Mary's and over a white terrier on a leash, and caught sight of him again two doors up.
"Badri!" he called. The tech half-turned and crashed straight into a middle-aged woman with a large flowered umbrella.
The woman was bent against the rain, holding the umbrella nearly in front of her, and she obviously didn't see Badri either. The umbrella, which was covered with lavender violets, seemed to explode upward, and then fell top-down onto the pavement. Badri, still
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