Part 2
It doesn't take you long to decide. The new John is somehow colder and harder than the young man you remember. The thought of being alone with him is disconcertingly intimidating. And Elena? Well, she seems nice enough but, dressed in a neat skirt and top, she looks very adult and you're not sure if she's inviting you along just to be nice or if she really means it.
Paul seems to be the youngest of these new Tomorrow People, probably not much more than eighteen to your fifteen and if you've ever felt the need to relax in the presence of a few other guys this is the time. Besides, a school or college is a school or college. How much can it have changes in twenty odd years?
You and Paul step onto the jaunting pad together and you put your hands to your jaunting belt, ready to leave. Paul, though, hesitates and steps back so he can look you up and down.
"What's wrong?" You ask nervously.
"Your clothes. They're a bit, well, old fashioned. Know what I mean?"
You gaze down blankly at your leather jacket and flares. As far a you know they're the height of fashion. John looks up from where he's still poring over the morning papers.
"Given how much of today's fashion seems to be recycled, Paul, I'm surprised you noticed."
"Yeah." Paul says a little uncertainty. "Well...yeah. I suppose we could just say that flares are back in. But we're going to have to get you a haircut." His own hair is so short it seems to have been practically shaved! He brightens slightly. "I suppose at least you're not wearing a mullet."
Even John chuckles at your confusion as Paul steps up next to you.
"Come on, kid, let's get going. Jaunt us out, please, TIM"
"Look after him, Paul." TIM's rich voice washes over you as you feel the first tingling of the jaunt. [And, Jay, remember that I can bring you back whenever you want.]
*
You appear behind some bike sheds that look like any other set of bike sheds you've ever seen. They are, perhaps, little more run down than most, and you're startled by how few bikes are locked to the strong racks. You're startled too by the locks themselves and the graffiti that's been daubed across the back wall of the sheds. Graffiti has always happened of course but the abundance and profanity of what you can see is alarming.
"Where are all the bikes?" You ask Paul. "Don't people cycle anymore?"
"In London?" He asks, disbelief in his face. "You must be kidding. If I wanted to die of air pollution I'd take up smoking, there's no point in risking the traffic as well." He hesitates and goes on a bit more quietly. "Life's faster and dirtier than it was in the good old days John goes on about. We jaunted into the bike sheds because we could almost guarantee that there'd be no-one here."
He sets off across a tarmaced car park and into a large building off to one side. You follow, uncertain of what you're doing or why. Paul scans a couple of notice boards with a practised eye and then leads you through a maze of corridors and staircases without even thinking of his route.
"My first class isn't until ten today." He tells you. "I only got up this early so I could touch base with Ellie and John before Ellie goes to work, know what I mean?" You nod although Paul doesn't seem aware that he's even asked the question. "And that," He continues, "Means that we get to sample the delights of canteen coffee."
You can tell he's being sarcastic but since you're not sure what about you keep quiet until your walk into a large, glass-walled room. The canteen, again, is what you'd expect a canteen to be: Tables are scattered randomly across the floorspace with plastic chairs clustered around them. Along one wall a self service counter runs with a variety of food-stuffs beneath plastic hatches or under warming lamps. You glance at the menu display on the wall to one side and then frown and look more closely. Half the names on the menu are unfamiliar, foriegn names and the other half seem to be the kind of luxuries your Dad might bring home if Mum was out for a night. It's not until, you get right to the bottom that the familiar baked potatoes and chips begin to appear. Even then the prices astound you. Three pounds for a baked potato? You're not a millionaire!
[Jay!] Paul's call startles you and you realise that he was calling out loud before resorting to telepathy. You'd stopped in the doorway while Paul has gone on to what appears to be a bar on one side of the room. You hurry to catch up with him as he waits.
"So what are you having?" He asks when you catch up. You look blankly at him and then at the list of italian names on the wall behind the bar thing. "Coffee." He clarifies. "What do you want?"
You hesitate, at home you almost always drank tea but your mother occasionally pulled out a tin of instant coffee for a change. You look around for a tin of Nescafe or any sign of the word coffee on the menu list.
"Um... just a coffee would be nice."
A woman behind the counter has come up now to take your order and she frowns at you but Paul is suddenly understanding and a little apologetic.
"Sorry, mate. I keep forgetting. Do you like it milky?"
You nod and Paul turns to the woman.
"Two Lattes, please." He asks. He nods at you, clearly feeling the need to explain to her. "My cousin here is just visiting. He lives in the middle of nowhere. They're a bit behind the times down there."
She shruggs, politely indifferent.
"That will be three-sixty, please."
You gape as you realise what she means. Three pounds and sixty pence for two cups of coffee? You expect Paul to be outraged, to walk out and take his custom elsewhere rather than submitting to such extortion but he just pulls out a wallet and hands over a ten pound note without a moment's thought. She takes it equally casually, returns his change and a moment later there's a peculiar gurgling as she minipulates some strange machine. It takes you several minutes to identify the espresso maker. You've seen then on TV of course but never encountered one for real.
Paul noticed you watching the money change hands and as you sit at one of the tables, your expensive coffee in front of you, he pulls out his wallet once again and thrusts another ten pound note towards you.
"Here. You'd better have some cash to be getting on with." He sees your hesitation and completely misinterpretes it. "I know it's not much but we can get some more off John later - he can afford it!"
"Thanks." You say, and mean it. Okay, ten pounds might not be quite the fortune you imagine it to be but it's still generous of Paul to give you money. And the coffee. You take a sip of the drink and are hit first by the bitterness and then by the strength of it. You've never had coffee so strong but you sip it cautiously, gradually finding that you like the taste.
*
"Hey, guys!" Paul is suddenly waving some friends of his over and you find yourself approached by a group of five guys and girls of about Paul's age.
"Hi, Paul." They're calling greetings to him, some of which you recognise and some you dont. Then they're all around, looking you up and down.
"Jay's cool." Paul was telling them. "He's my cousin. From out of town."
"A long way out of town." Someone murmers at the back of the group as they all look at your clothes and haircut, but Paul turns a glare on them and they all smile and greet you.
"So what are you doing here, Jay?" One asks as they settle down around the table, dumping their bags on the floor.
"I just thought I'd visit." You tell them lamely. "Just see what it was like."
"Yeah," Paul backs you up. "Just trying to choose a college and so on. You know?"
"Well, whatever." One of them shruggs. "Paul, we're just off to the email room. Want to come?"
"Uh, yeah." Paul glances at you uncertainly but then nods. "Yeah, I've got to check my mail and Jay can just browse the web for a bit."
You're baffled at what they're talking about but gulp down the last of your coffee and follow the crowd.
*
The room full of computers looks like something out of a science fiction movie. And even then, you realise they've got an awful lot wrong. You only recognise the computers because of their screens and even those are a long way from the bulky devices you're accustomed to seeing. Everything is so much smaller here! Paul sits you down in front of a monitor with a gently humming box beside it that you assume must connect it to a more powerful machine somewhere. You cant believe that any significant processing ability can be contained in such a small case. At first the screen is blue with a simple box on it but when Paul enteres a few words of text in that box you realise the true-colour, high-graphics, reality of what you are seeing. Paul manipulates the small device sitting beside the computer and a large colourful interface comes up.
"I'll just log you on...Alright, Jay, this is your web browser and this is Google. Just type whatever you want to know about in that box there and it will search the entire web for you."
You try to nod intelligently and Paul wanders off to find another machine. You stare at the monitor for several minutes completely baffled. Type whatever you want to know about, Paul said. You hesitate with your fingers over the keyboard for a long moment. Should you type your own name, your parents', your friends'? Eventually you laboriously type the word 'News' a letter at a time into the box. A smaller box below where you've been typing says 'Google Search' and you inspect the keyboard carefully trying to figure out how to get to it. After a few moments you remember the smaller device that Paul manipulated and you find that by moving it carefully you can move a small arrow icon on the screen itself. You move it over the 'Google Search' button and by trial and error find the correct button to initiate the process. You hear a barely surpressed snigger behind you and realise that at least one of Paul's friends was watching the whole laborious process.
You feel a rising frustration and embarrassment. You know that as a Tomorrow Person you are picking up the operations of this device far more rapidly than a normal Homo Sapiens would do but you still feel like a Homo Erectus compared to the Saps around you. You realise that, like so much else, the manipulation of computers has become common place in the two decades for which you were away. Every moment you spend in this room is just demonstrating your ignorance.
Paul is on the other side of the room, having been unable to find a free computer nearby, and he doesn't even notice as you stand and walk out of the room. You're determined that none of these Saps will see how upset you really are.
You find your way to an exit by following the signs in every corridor and you're already outside before you hear Paul begin to call you. You block out his thoughts and stride through the big metal gates.
Do you:
a) turn left?
b) turn right?
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