The CRES code

Chapter Six - First Encounter

Now that they were finally on their way to meet someone, all four of the recently awoken hibernaters found themselves once again acutely aware of their nakedness. Jane shrank back behind the others, using them to hide her from the sight of the man they were approaching, and her eyes darted around the valley looking for anyone else who might be around. There was a small cluster of buildings on the other side of the river, she saw, reminding her of the farmhouses she'd seen in old pictures of centuries past, but there were no people around them that she could see.

The man saw them approaching while they were still a hundred metres away and he stopped to stare in surprise. He was wearing a large knife belted around his waist, they saw. Was it real, or some kind of prop for the tourists? If so, where were the tourists? Maybe Jane was right and people hereabouts really did live like this. If that were so, though, then what was the knife for? Was there something hereabouts that people had to defend themselves against? Randall looked at Loach and saw him holding his knife so that it was hidden from the other man's sight by his body. If the man saw that he was hiding a knife, though, he might fear that he was about to come under attack.

Randall tried his head phone again, but it was still unable to connect to a network. He picked up his pace, therefore, to pass Loach and take the lead, holding out his hands to show the man that they were empty. "Hello!" he called out. "Hello! Can you help us?"

The man continued to stand there. Randall saw his eyes dart to the women and stare. Behind him, Jane shrank against Loach, hiding her body behind his, her small hands clutching at his arms. Emily strode boldly forward, though, her hands held out to her sides to show they were empty. The man's hand drifted towards his knife, then dropped away. There was puzzlement in his eyes, Randall saw, but the brief burst of fear was ebbing away to be replaced by amusement. These four people were the victims of some kind of prank, Randall imagined him thinking. A great tale for him to tell his friends later on.

"Wech a yez gettin hitched?" he asked with a broad grin as they drew closer. "Whozz the lecky man?"

It took Randall a few moments to interpret the man's strange accent. "Ah, none of us," he said. "We just need a little help. We have been the victims of an unfortunate accident."

The man, in turn, took a moment or two to figure out what the businessman was saying. "An eccident?" he said. "What kend of eccident?"

"That's not important right now. The thing is, our head phones don't work. Can you call Consolidated Industries please? Tell them it's George Randall, just out of hypersleep. Tell them I need them to send someone to pick me up. I'll make sure you're well rewarded for your trouble."

"Ken I whet? Whetter yez going on abet?"

"Your phone," repeated Randall, tapping the side of his head. "I need you to make a phone call for me. Can you do that, please?"

"Can I dae whet?"

The man's strange accent was making communication difficult so Randall told his head phone to contact the other man's head phone directly. Perhaps he'd understand a text message more easily. His phone scanned around, finding the head phones of the other hibernators, but it then declared that there were no other such devices within scanning range, a distance of about a kilometre. Randall cursed silently. Technology must have moved on to the extent that old and new devices no longer had the ability to communicate with each other.

"We need help," said Emily, coming forward. "Can you help us? We need to get in touch with our friends so they can help us." The man just stared at her. "The police!" Emily demanded with growing impatience. "Can you call the police?"