The Medusa Project: Double-Cross

  Cal flashed a quick, triumphant look at me. ‘See you guys later,’ he said. Then, before I could do or say another word, he grabbed Ketty’s hand, flexed his knees and zoomed into the sky, pulling Ketty behind him.

  My mouth fell open. Cal’s Medusa gift was flying?

  How on earth did that work?

  I stared after the two figures. They both had their legs together and their arms by their sides. As I watched, they separated slightly. Cal steadily extended one arm, then a leg. Beside him Ketty, wobbling in the air, copied his movement. At first, I was swallowed up by terror. Suppose she fell? Suppose Cal’s ability stopped working? My own gift had been sketchy at first, after all. But as the moments passed, it was obvious that Cal was a master at what he was doing and, even at this distance, Ketty was clearly enjoying herself. She repeated the moves Cal demonstrated a few more times, getting steadier with each go.

  My fears subsided and fury rose up to take their place. How dare Cal just leave with Ketty like that? And what was she thinking, going along with him so willingly?

  ‘How is he doing that?’ Dylan said beside me.

  She was staring into the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun, her mouth open in amazement. My rage grew. Ed met my gaze. He looked panic-stricken.

  ‘Did you know Cal could fly?’ I demanded.

  ‘I had an idea. I mean, I didn’t spend enough time in his head to see exactly, but . . . I think he’s kind of got the reverse of your gift. I hope Ketty’s okay.’

  ‘What d’you mean, “the reverse”?’ I said.

  ‘You can move anything, but not yourself,’ Ed explained. ‘Cal’s the other way round. He can move through space – like people levitate, only with more control – but he can’t perform telekinesis.’

  ‘Who needs telekinesis when you can fly?’ Dylan said. She was still staring up at the tiny figures in the sky above us. They were performing somersaults now – Cal’s neat and elegant, Ketty’s slightly more ragged. ‘That is the most awesome thing I’ve ever seen. I have to try it out.’

  ‘It looks really dangerous to me,’ Ed said.

  I shook my head, suddenly afraid for Ketty again. Suppose Cal let go of her hand? Suppose, in showing off to impress her, he made a mistake?

  ‘Is he safe doing that?’ I asked the sunglass-wearing muscleman who was now standing by the open passenger door of the Bentley, waiting patiently to drive us to Avery Jones.

  Muscles nodded. He pointed to the inside of the car.

  I looked back up at Ketty. I couldn’t really tell from here, but it looked as if she and Cal were laughing. A poisonous shot of jealousy pierced through me. As I watched, Ketty put her arms to her sides again, one hand still tightly in Cal’s. A second later the two of them had zoomed off, out of sight.

  A million emotions churning inside me, I got into the car. It was cool – there was some serious air con going on in here – and smelled of leather. Any other time I would have enjoyed riding in such a smart car, but right then, all I could think about was what Ketty was doing. Was she even the tiniest bit scared? She’d looked happy and excited.

  I didn’t want to face it, but in my heart that was slicing me up the most: Ketty was loving it up in the skies.

  Loving it way too much.

  We drove in silence. Dylan asked the chauffeur a few questions, but he didn’t answer. Ed announced he’d made remote contact with Ketty.

  ‘She says she’s fine. She’s safe and having fun.’

  ‘Great,’ I snarled.

  Ed tried to make remote telepathic contact with me after that, but I told him to ‘get lost’ – only less politely.

  After that he and Dylan resumed the quiet chat they’d been having earlier. I couldn’t hear what they were saying and I didn’t care. I was furious with Ketty. Going off like that, not even looking at me before she sped off with Cal. It was humiliating.

  As for Cal, I hated him.

  I fumed in silence for the rest of the journey. The landscape didn’t change for twenty minutes – just endless, orangey-brown scrubland, leading to distant, olive-green forests and blue-tinged hills. Then, as we rounded a bend in the dirt track we were driving along, the outline of a low-rise town rose up ahead.

  The driver pulled over and stopped the car.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I said.

  He pointed out of the window. Cal and Ketty were gently coming in to land beside us. Ketty’s face was flushed, her hair all messed up and her eyes were glittering with excitement. She looked as pretty as I’d ever seen her. Cal landed lightly on his toes, catching Ketty round the waist as she stumbled.

  She laughed. So did he.

  I wanted to hit something.

  Ketty raced over to the car. She yanked the back door open and scrambled in.

  ‘That was amazing!’ she said, glancing around at us.

  ‘How does it work?’ Dylan asked, shifting sideways to make room for her. It struck me that, normally, Dylan would have made some sarky comment about having to move over.

  ‘It feels really weird when you start,’ Ketty gabbled excitedly. ‘Kind of disorienting. But Cal was really calm and when I did what he said, I realised that if I trusted him to hold me up, I was free to move my body much more than I thought. There are wind pockets that catch you, too.’

  ‘It looked sooo awesome.’ Dylan peered past Ketty, to where Cal was now taking off his T-shirt and tying it round his waist.

  My mouth fell open for the second time that hour. Cal might be younger than me, but he was incredibly toned – with curving arm muscles and a six-pack.

  ‘He is ripped,’ Dylan said. ‘Would he take me up?’

  She and Ketty started giggling.

  I gritted my teeth.

  ‘Sure,’ Ketty said. ‘We came down because Cal wants to run the rest of the way to the ranch. He’s really into running, just like me. He’s going to show me the best tracks round here later.’

  Oh, great.

  With a brief wave at the car, Cal set off, running across the scrubland that ran beside the dirt track.

  Ketty turned to me, her whole face lit up. ‘Hey, Nico, you have to try flying. It’s the best thing.’

  ‘Really?’ My voice was like ice.

  Ketty’s face fell.

  The driver revved up the Bentley. I turned away. I could still see the others reflected in the darkened windscreen in front of me.

  There was an awkward silence for a moment, then Dylan cleared her throat.

  ‘What about you, Hypno Boy?’ she said to Ed. ‘Don’t you want to fly?’

  ‘No way,’ Ed said fervently. ‘I got travel-sick just looking at you, Ketty.’

  The three of them laughed. I slumped down in the passenger seat and closed my eyes.

  Ten minutes later the Bentley slowed as we crunched over a gravel drive. Past a long row of what Ed informed us were eucalyptus trees, we turned a corner to see the ranch in all its glory. It was built on two levels, a large, whitewashed farmhouse-style building with an array of fields behind. Its desolate situation reminded me slightly of the training camp in the Spanish desert that we’d been sent to a few weeks ago. But in all other respects, this was a building in a different league – gleaming white walls, polished wood furniture on the porch and a huge swimming pool round the side.

  Cal was still miles away across the scrubland – a tiny figure jogging towards the house. As I turned to see if Ketty had noticed him, my eye was caught by a man emerging onto the porch. He was completely bald and dressed from head to toe in white – cotton trousers and a loose shirt.

  ‘Is that Avery Jones?’ Dylan asked.

  Our driver nodded. He stopped the car and opened the back passenger door so Ketty and Dylan could scramble out. I got out myself, my eyes on Jones. Was it my imagination or was he staring at me?

  He beckoned us over.

  ‘Let’s go,’ I said.

  The four of us started walking to the house. I could feel Ketty moving closer beside me, her hand reaching for mine.
But I didn’t take it – or even look at her. Rage was still boiling inside me.

  Ketty shrank away. We walked on.

  I hadn’t anticipated any of this. I’d expected danger and a struggle to find Avery Jones – not a smooth, chauffeured ride straight to his luxury home.

  Most of all, I hadn’t expected that my main emotion as I walked up to meet him would be furious jealousy.

  We reached the porch and climbed the steps. Now we were close up I could see that the man in front of us was middle-aged. At least there were lines round his eyes and mouth, though his forehead was completely smooth.

  He reached forward, his smile revealing a set of perfectly white, even teeth.

  ‘Hey there,’ he said in a relaxed Australian drawl just like Cal’s. He offered me his hand. ‘G’day, Nico. I can’t tell you how much I’ve looked forward to this moment.’

  8: Avery Jones

  Avery Jones led us into the ranch house. Even knowing nothing about interior design I could see that everything was hugely expensive. Simple leather couches, bare floors scattered with a few silk rugs and highly polished wood furniture. A huge golden statue of an elephant stood in one corner of the large, open-plan living area. Two framed abstract paintings – one of red stripes, one of blue – hung on the far wall. I was pretty sure they weren’t prints.

  Jones waved his hand, indicating we should sit down. ‘We call this the Snug,’ he said. ‘Please sit down. I’ve asked Philly for some lemonade and snacks. Then there’ll be a chance to rest and get cleaned up.’

  I glanced at the others, suddenly realising how tired and grimy we all looked. It wasn’t just the long journey from Helsinki – life had been fairly relentless since we’d left our hideout in the Lake District. That felt like weeks ago, though it was only a few days. Still, I wasn’t ready to relax just yet.

  ‘I think we’d like some answers before we start “chilling” with you like we’re old mates,’ I said. ‘For a start, how did you know we were looking for you?’

  ‘Because I was looking for you,’ Avery drawled.

  This wasn’t the answer I expected. My heart skipped a beat.

  Avery Jones smiled. ‘I’d heard rumours that Geri had brought the four of you together and I knew it was true when I heard about the Wardingham explosion and Bookman’s death – that was way too much of a coincidence . . . The two things had to be connected and had to be about Medusa. Wardingham was where the Medusa Project data was stored. Bookman was in charge of the whole project. Once I’d intercepted the MoD data streams and found out you were being accused of both the explosion and the murder, it was obvious to me what had happened. If Geri had turned on you, then you must have found out her big secret – that she murdered William Fox. Which means you’re in real danger right now and I want to help.’

  I stared at him. The way he presented the information made it sound like the most logical thing in the world, and yet how had he known any of those things for sure?

  ‘How did you manage to read Laura’s emails to Sam Hastings about coming to the airport?’ Dylan said, frowning.

  ‘When I heard about the explosion, I put an intercept on the emails of everyone I knew connected with the Medusa Project,’ Avery explained. ‘Some – like Geri’s personal email – were impossible to access, but Laura’s was quite easy. When she emailed Sam Hastings, I was able to block the email and reply as from Hastings. She fell for it completely.’

  I looked at the others. Ed and Ketty had both paled with anxiety. Dylan was still frowning.

  ‘So you tricked us?’ she said. ‘You’re admitting we’ve walked into a trap?’

  ‘What about the boy who did meet us?’ Ed said. ‘Cal. How does he fit in?’

  ‘I’ll explain about Cal in a minute, but first . . .’ Avery sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry for getting you here under false pretences . . . but a lie was the only way to keep you safe. Anyway, I wasn’t sure you’d trust me until you’d met me in person.’

  I opened my mouth to ask Avery the huge and obvious question – why was he doing all this? But before I could speak, Dylan was off again.

  ‘How can we trust you?’ she said angrily. ‘You bought the Medusa gene code from Geri Paterson even though you knew she killed my dad.’

  Avery studied her for a second, then sighed. ‘I didn’t know Geri had murdered William at the time. And I certainly didn’t buy the Medusa gene code from her.’

  A new tension filled the atmosphere.

  ‘But we found the stuff you wrote about it,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, there’s an article in which you name Medusa and hint it will soon be in your possession,’ Ed added.

  Avery waved his hand dismissively. ‘I wrote various articles at the time arguing that William Fox was playing God with his work on genetics. However, I didn’t know about Medusa back then. I went back to that blog you’re referring to two days ago and added references to the Medusa gene so that you’d be able to find me.’

  ‘Why?’ I said, unable to hold back any longer. ‘Why on earth would you go to so much trouble to help us?’

  Behind me the door opened. Two blonde women – one middle-aged, the other in her twenties – walked in. Each one carried a tray loaded with drinks and sandwiches. They smiled as they set the trays down in front of Avery.

  ‘Thank you.’ He turned to us. ‘These ladies are my wife, Philly, and our maid, Caro.’

  ‘Hi,’ Ed said politely.

  The girls smiled. Man, how weird was this? We were all acting like we’d gone round to somebody’s house and were meeting their parents.

  ‘Two more jailers?’ I said.

  Avery frowned. ‘You’re not prisoners here, Nico. You’re free to leave whenever you like. But I know you have more questions and I’m happy to answer them.’ He paused. ‘Now, please won’t you sit and eat? We can carry on talking, but you all look half-dead from exhaustion.’

  ‘Er . . . would you let me mind-read you first?’ Ed asked.

  I nodded. That was a good idea. Ed would be able to see whatever was truly inside Avery’s mind.

  Avery’s grey eyes widened with delight. For a second, I saw a strong resemblance to Cal. Was it possible he was Cal’s father?

  ‘It would be my very great pleasure to have you mind-read me, Edward.’ Avery sat forward in his sofa. ‘Go ahead.’

  Ed perched awkwardly next to Avery and looked into his eyes. Silence fell on the room. I eyed the platter of sandwiches. It looked tempting and I was starving. Dylan edged closer to the lemonade.

  ‘Find out if the drink’s poisoned, Ed,’ she ordered.

  The door to the porch slammed back on itself. I jumped. Spun round. Cal was in the doorway, thankfully now wearing his T-shirt and panting after his run.

  His white-blond hair fell over his face as he grinned at Ketty.

  ‘Hey, Ketts,’ he said. ‘I’m gonna take a shower. Catch you later.’ He disappeared through another door.

  Ketts?

  I moved closer to Ketty, my irritation rising. Across the room Dylan was examining the gigantic elephant. Avery and Ed were entirely focused on each other.

  ‘Why is he calling you Ketts?’ I hissed. ‘That’s what I call you.’

  Ketty looked up at me, a confused frown creasing her forehead.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘He abbreviates lots of words. I didn’t tell him to call me that, he just did.’

  ‘Yeah, I noticed the two of you were getting all bessie mates up there in outer space.’

  Ketty’s frown deepened. ‘Is that why you’re in this horrible mood? Because you’re jealous of me and Cal?’

  ‘Course I’m not jealous.’ I glanced over at Dylan. She was studiously ignoring us, peering at an elegant gold ornament on the sideboard across the room. ‘I just thought it was a bit odd that—’

  ‘Well, what did you see, Ed?’ Avery asked.

  I looked around. Avery was sitting back in the sofa, arms folded, an amused expression on his face.

  Ed tu
rned to me and Ketty ‘Everything Avery’s told us is true. He wants to help us because he knows about the Medusa gene killing our mothers and he knows how powerful and dangerous Geri is.’

  Dylan walked towards us. ‘What about the lemonade?’

  ‘It’s fine – and, apparently, delicious,’ Ed said.

  ‘Good.’ Dylan poured herself a huge glass.

  Avery sat forward and poured four more. I looked at Ketty. She had tucked her hair behind her ears and had gone to sit on a sofa across the room from me, her mouth set in a grim line.

  I sank into the nearest seat and accepted the glass of lemonade Avery offered me. He was right – it was delicious. But I barely tasted it and, suddenly, I wasn’t really hungry for sandwiches any more either.

  Everything was usually so easy with Ketty – what was going wrong?

  Why couldn’t she see that her rushing off with Cal without saying anything was bound to make me feel annoyed? And it wasn’t just Cal . . . it was this whole set-up. Maybe Avery Jones did want to help us, but he’d still tricked us into coming here.

  Dylan and Ed munched on hunks of bread. Ketty nibbled at a carrot stick. Without warning, Ed appeared in my head.

  You okay, Nico?

  I’m great, thanks, I thought-spoke, knowing Ed would be able to see I was absolutely not great.

  I just wanted to say it’s true, Avery seems on the level. There’s just one thing . . .

  What?

  D’you remember that guy, Foster, from a few months back . . . the one I had to mind-read so we could find out where he was holding Ketty’s brother hostage?

  Yes. I remembered it well. Ed had actually vomited after that mind-reading session, claiming that Foster had ‘held’ his mind in a way Ed had never experienced before.

  Well, I got the sense that Avery could do what Foster did to me back then. He just chose not to. Ed hesitated. It’s hard to explain, but he has a very ordered mind. It’s not chaotic like most people’s and . . . I can’t be sure because he’s so controlled, but I think there might be stuff he’s hiding . . . er, like . . . er . . . behind mental walls.