Terminal

  He turned to Elliott. Her eyes were gleaming – the haunted look almost gone. ‘Does that mean you’ll come with me? Please will you?’ she begged.

  He took a breath. ‘You’re really telling me that if we walk into that square, we’ll instantly be in London?’ Will said. ‘Where Dad’s compass has just gone? Just like magic?’

  ‘That’s right,’ she confirmed. ‘And it’s not magic.’

  ‘And you’re absolutely sure it’ll be London? Not outer space or somewhere else?’

  ‘London … absolutely. That’s where I have to go.’

  Will took in a breath as his mind raced with the possibilities. ‘So if you’re correct, and we don’t just get vaporised or something, I can come along and help you, and I’ll also be able to find out what’s happening back out there on the surface?’ He laughed with the improbability of it all. ‘We’ll both get out of this world?’

  She nodded.

  But Will had thought of something. ‘We can’t go. And no way can you go either – because of the virus. We’d take it straight through with us. We’d kill everybody!’

  ‘I have to …’ Elliott began.

  Will was adamant. ‘No, you can’t. Remember what Werner said – the virus is everywhere down here because the birds are spreading it.’ At this point his eyes fell on the bushman. Will stuck his finger in the air, much like his father had been apt to do when he’d had a brainwave. ‘Wait a moment – I’ve got an idea.’

  ‘You have?’ Elliott said.

  ‘Yeah, I’m the man!’ Will proclaimed, puffing his chest out and strutting around in a kind of victory dance because he was so pleased with himself.

  This expression was completely lost on Elliott. ‘You’re the man? What man?’

  ‘Yes, I am. I am the man!’ Will said, a big grin on his face. ‘What we do is send Woody over to the pyramid to get us all the decontamination gear we took there – you know, when Jürgen was worried that we’d crash in on a load of Woody’s mates and give them the lurgy.’

  ‘And we set it up in front of that,’ Elliott said, indicating the silver square as she caught on.

  ‘Yep, and we make sure we take every precaution under the sun before we step into your mirror. And you make Woody understand that he’s to stay put and not to try to follow us through.’ Will was still finding this all a little difficult to believe. ‘And if this square is really what you think it is, I can be home in, like, the click of my fingers. And I can be there to help Chester and Parry and …’

  ‘I believe that we can really help them, if it’s not too late,’ Elliott said. ‘Because what I have to do is connected to this blood in me, to my father’s blood. I know that somehow it’s connected to the Styx.’ She paused, before she added, ‘And the Phase.’

  Will just nodded.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‘This one?’ Mrs Burrows asked, as she came to a door on the worn stone staircase.

  The First Officer frowned as he stopped beside her and considered it. ‘I seem to remember it was blocked up. Let’s try further up,’ he suggested.

  After another short flight on the claustrophobic stairwell, there was another landing with an identical iron-framed door of old worm-eaten wood. But when the First Officer turned the handle and attempted to open it, nothing happened. ‘Stand aside, please,’ he said self-importantly to Mrs Burrows, limbering up his arms and taking a moment to prepare himself. Then he stepped back and, like a charging rhino, threw himself at it with all his might.

  There was a splintering sound and the door did open, but only to butt up against a solid brick wall. The sloppily applied mortar between the joints of the bricks had the appearance of toothpaste, suggesting that the wall had been built from the other side.

  ‘Humphhh,’ the First Officer said in disappointment. ‘Please stand further back,’ he told Mrs Burrows.

  ‘Stop coming over all policeman with me, will you,’ she muttered a little crossly.

  He took no notice of this, again stepping back as far as he could on the tiny landing, and then launching his not inconsiderable bulk at the wall. He did this for a second time. And a third.

  ‘Losing your touch, dear?’ Mrs Burrows asked him with a smile on her face.

  But then, on the fourth attempt, the wall suddenly gave way. After the First Officer had clawed the bricks out to enlarge the opening, he discovered a layer of new plasterboard, which he broke through as if it was a sheet of paper.

  ‘Modern bloody building materials,’ he muttered, as he and Mrs Burrows finally stepped out into a room.

  ‘Where are we? What can you see?’ Mrs Burrows asked.

  The First Officer described what was there – how it was obviously in the middle of an extensive refurbishment. All the surfaces had fresh plasterboard on them, and from the cables everywhere on the walls and dangling from the ceiling it was evidently being rewired.

  ‘So someone’s doing some improvements,’ Mrs Burrows said, as she went straight to the window. It was still light outside, although it was raining so heavily and the sky was so overcast that everything appeared dull and grey. She sniffed. ‘This place is familiar,’ she said.

  ‘Gladstone Street,’ the First Officer helped her.

  Mrs Burrows nodded and sniffed again. ‘Just another rainy day in Highfield.’ As she stood at the window, her hand touched something pinned to the new window frame. ‘What’s this?’ she asked.

  The First Officer pulled off the old dog-eared photograph that one of the builders must have come across and pinned there. ‘It’s a daguerreotype of a very old lady wearing thick glasses, with some cats.’

  ‘They call them photographs in this century,’ Mrs Burrows said, adding quickly, ‘This old lady … does she have white hair … with wiry, odd-looking curls?’

  The First Officer brought the photograph closer to see. ‘She does,’ he confirmed.

  Mrs Burrows nodded. ‘Ah, I know why this place is so familiar. I bet you that’s Mrs Tantrumi. She lived in one of the almshouses around here, and chances are it was this one, because the Styx obviously had a quick way to reach her if they wanted her.’

  ‘Mrs Tantrumi?’ the First Officer asked.

  ‘Yes, she was a Styx agent. And the old witch is the reason I was caught on Highfield Common and put through all that Darklighting,’ Mrs Burrows replied, her voice bitter. Then something dawned on her. ‘And, do you know, the luminescent orb that led my husband Roger to discover the Colony was found under this house. This is where it all started!’ She looked fondly at the First Officer. ‘You and I would never have met if it hadn’t been for that.’

  The First Officer nodded, keen to focus on the job in hand. ‘So what now? Do we go outside and investigate wh—’

  ‘No,’ Mrs Burrows said abruptly, her head snapping back towards the window. ‘God, no! Quickly, get back through that door!’

  ‘Why, what is it?’ the First Officer asked, more than a little confused at what she’d evidently picked up with her supersense.

  ‘There’s nobody left alive in Highfield … but there are things out there that I’ve never smelt before.’ Mrs Burrows was pushing the First Officer back towards the door. ‘And if just one of those things gets into the Colony, we’re all done for.’

  ‘Do you think we’ve done this right?’ Elliott shouted from inside the decontamination tunnel. She and Will had spent hours at the top of the tower slotting the aluminium sections together in different configurations until finally the double skin of dark-green outer rubber could slide into place over it.

  ‘I don’t know … I think so – it looks as though it’s more or less there now. It would have been so much easier if it had come with instructions,’ Will said, as she joined him and they stood back to take in the long tent-like structure. ‘Okay,’ he said, going to the crates. ‘Now we fit it out with this stuff.’

  They began to install the shower and bank of ultraviolet lights. They had a general idea of how to do this because they’d seen what the decontam
ination chamber had been like in the New Germanian hospital, so all they could do was to try to reproduce it in this portable version.

  ‘I rigged up something just like this in a tunnel years ago,’ Will said, as he connected a lead acid battery similar to that from a car so it would power the small bank of ultraviolet lights.

  Elliott’s task was equally involved because she was trying to work out how to install the shower using the many feet of tubing and a hand pump.

  Finally they thought they were ready for a trial run.

  ‘Hit the switch,’ Will shouted from inside the tent, and was bathed in the light from the ultraviolet panel as Elliott did as he’d asked. ‘That’s fine – turn it off!’ He moved down inside the tent until he was in the first compartment. ‘Okay, now try the pump.’

  She began to work the hand-operated pump, giving it her all. She was watching the blue germicidal fluid pulse hypnotically through the tube system when she became aware of Will’s shouts.

  ‘Stop! Stop! That’s enough!’ Will’s face appeared at the mouth of the tent, his face and white hair dripping with the blue fluid. ‘I just knew that was going to happen,’ he spluttered, but nevertheless he looked very pleased. ‘Well, it all seems to work.’ He looked at Elliott. ‘So, are we going through with this?’

  She nodded vigorously.

  From the very start he’d known there was no way she was about to chicken out and, despite his reservations, there was nothing on – or in – Earth that was going to stop him either. He couldn’t wait to find out if the silver square did what she claimed it would. ‘Okay, if you help yourself to one of those germ suits, you might as well get started on the decontamination.’ He swung towards the bushman, still speaking to Elliott. ‘And do you think you can get Woody to help? If not, there’ll be no one outside the tent to process me when I go through.’

  ‘Don’t worry about him – just sort out what kit we’re taking with us,’ she answered, already heading to where they’d laid out two of the white plastic suits identical to those that Jürgen and Karl had been wearing the first time they’d bumped into them in the city.

  While Will checked through all the equipment in their Bergens, Elliott issued instructions in the Styx language to Woody who was outside the tent. She was in the shower section of the tunnel being completely drenched by the germicide, which was sprinkling down from the overhead syphon. Some of the fluid trickled into her eye, stinging it so badly that she had to step from under the shower and wash it with water from a canteen before she could go on. ‘I hope we’re doing this properly!’ she shouted grimly to Will.

  ‘Oh, I truly hope so, too,’ Will shouted back. Shaking his head, he let out a humourless laugh. ‘Or we’ll be responsible for killing all several billion people up on the surface.’ His head reeled at the thought. Just saying those words brought home the implications – even the smallest of mistakes that allowed one single, tiny virus to be carried to the outer world would be more disastrous than words could express.

  Elliott was similarly affected. Still blinking her eye, she didn’t move for a moment. ‘Then … do you think I should go through the shower again?’

  Will glanced at the plastic tanks beside Woody. ‘Might be a very good idea. We’ve buckets of the blue gunk.’

  Once Elliott had showered for a second time, Will slid their Bergens and their equipment into the entrance, and Elliott soaked it all in the germicide.

  Dragging all the kit with her, Elliott then moved further down the tent where she stood under the bank of ultraviolet light that Woody had turned on. Having donned her plastic suit – which was a task in itself because the germicide covering it made it slippery – she finally put on the cylindrical helmet. Making sure it was seated properly in the seal around her neck, she clicked the two catches shut, and then turned on the valve to the small canister of air. She slung this over her back where it hung from a strap. Then she called out to Will that she was ready.

  ‘My turn,’ he said to Woody, uncomfortable because the bushman made no effort to avert his eyes as he stripped off all his clothes. ‘Elliott, I’m coming in. No peeking!’ he shouted, and entered with his germ suit under his arm. He too went through the shower twice and, finally stood under the lights while Elliott faced in the opposite direction, arms crossed and humming impatiently.

  When he was dressed, he joined her at the far end of the tunnel, and they stood side by side, ready to step into the shimmering mirror that lay directly outside the tent.

  ‘It’s still there?’ Will asked nervously.

  Elliott unzipped a few inches of the door flaps to check. ‘Yes,’ she replied.

  ‘And you’re sure about this?’ He picked up his Bergen and hooked his Sten over his shoulder, then looked rather undecided. ‘Tell me one last time – this is really going to zap us through to the surface? Like something out of Star Trek? How do you know we won’t just burn up or something?’

  She frowned at the mention of Star Trek, but answered simply, ‘It’s going to work.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, you can’t tell me how, you just know it,’ Will grumbled.

  Without a further word, Elliott unzipped the door flaps, and they faced the glimmering portal together, their equipment and suits dripping with germicide.

  ‘Let’s do it,’ Will said quietly. He took her hand and squeezed it as they both left the tunnel, walking towards the portal. ‘Feels cold,’ he said.

  They hadn’t even entered the square when a force took hold of them, wrenching them with such power they couldn’t have resisted even if they’d wanted to.

  For less than a beat, all they heard was the rush of air. Despite the suits they felt it on their skin, like a sudden blast of wind.

  And they knew they were no longer in the inner world.

  PART THREE

  Bishops Wood

  Chapter Thirteen

  They fell several feet onto something hard. The jolt made them drop their Bergens and their weapons.

  It was pitch black and bitterly cold.

  Will immediately reached out for Elliott and found her on the ground beside him.

  ‘You okay?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Elliott replied, then pointed to her helmet. ‘Is it safe to take this off now?’

  ‘S’pose so. We’re going to have to, sooner or later, because the air will run out. And if we’ve got the decontamination wrong, then …’ he trailed off. He released the seal around his neck and removed the plastic helmet from his head. Elliott followed his example, and they both took their first breaths, drawing the freezing night air down into their lungs.

  ‘Brrrr,’ Elliott exhaled, her teeth already beginning to chatter.

  It hit them both right then just how unprepared they were for conditions like this after the tropical climate of the inner world. And it was exacerbated because not only were their thin plastic suits little protection against the cold, but they were both still damp from the decontamination process.

  ‘We didn’t bring any proper clothes with us,’ Elliott realised.

  ‘We didn’t think this through,’ Will agreed.

  Their voices sounded small and there was no echo. Wherever they’d arrived, they were definitely out in the open.

  ‘At least we’re still alive! We made it!’ Will declared, as it sank in that they had survived the journey through the shimmering portal.

  Elliott was more subdued, as if she’d expected nothing less. ‘Yes, great, but where exactly are we?’ Rising to her feet, she used her rifle scope to look around. ‘Trees? All I can see are trees,’ she said. ‘And I feel really sick,’ she added with a moan, sitting back down on the ground again as she clutched her stomach.

  Will had opened up his Bergen and was rummaging through it, but stopped what he was doing as the nausea also gripped him. ‘Me too. I suddenly feel really awful,’ he said. He lowered his head, then brought it up again quickly, at the same time burping at great volume. ‘Ah, that did the trick.’ He turned to Elliott in the darkness. ‘Yo
u try it.’

  ‘What? Burp?’

  ‘Yes, go on. Must be a build-up of air, because of the change in pressure or something.’

  ‘Well … okay.’ There was a pause as she inhaled and held her breath, then she let it out in the most almighty belch – far louder than Will’s – which reverberated around the trees. ‘That is better,’ she said.

  ‘Very ladylike,’ Will chuckled, diving back into his Bergen to look for Drake’s light-intensifying lens. It had been redundant in the inner world with its constant daylight, but he’d still carried it with him everywhere he went through force of habit.

  ‘Haven’t used this for a while. Hope it still works,’ he said, fitting the strap around his head and then hinging the lens down over his eye. As he flicked the switch on the small box that dangled by a cord from the unit, all he could see was the usual orange snowstorm before the view settled down. ‘Yes, trees – I’ve got them,’ he said, as he glanced around. ‘And is that a stream over there?’ he asked, indicating where the nettles and undergrowth parted and something glistened in the small amount of moonlight penetrating the thick cloud cover.

  But Elliott was busy peering through her scope in the opposite direction, surveying the short slope beside them as she tried to make out what lay at the top. ‘I wonder where we are?’ she asked.

  ‘It certainly doesn’t look like London. We must be in the country somewhere,’ Will said. ‘And before we freeze to death, we need to get out of this,’ he added, stamping his feet on the ground in an effort to keep himself warm.

  It was then that Elliott spotted the frosted tarmac of a path running up the incline. ‘What about up there?’ she suggested to Will.

  Gathering their equipment together, they began up the path, but Will suddenly stopped. ‘Just a moment.’ He returned to where they’d been, and had only been peering around the ground for a second or two before he stooped to pick something up. ‘I really hoped this would be here,’ he said, holding up his father’s compass.