Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London (44 page)

“You are 161.8033 meters from the source of the Chancellor's last transmission,” Sol replied.

Johnny stopped allowing Clara, breathing heavily, to catch him up. There was a problem: the bridge had been raised for a high-masted sailing boat to pass underneath and the Chancellor must be on the other side. The traffic and pedestrians had had to stop, making the pavement very busy. As well as commuters there was a streetsweeper in green overalls clearing up litter from the night before, loads of camera-carrying tourists come to view the impressive scene and some workmen in hard hats and yellow bibs.

Painfully slowly the boat cleared the bridge, sailing upstream. A bell sounded, lights flashed and the raised central portion of the bridge began to lower. Johnny and Clara were swept forward by the crowd, eager to cross to the other side. Surrounded by so many people jostling, someone's umbrella jabbed Johnny right in the leg. He kept glancing round to check Clara was still close by, and peering ahead for any sign of the Chancellor or the Jubilee. They were surrounded by workmen now, and he and Clara had to stop because the streetsweeper pushed his cart right in front of them. It was only then that he
noticed his leg was actually really sore. Not that he had time to worry about that now—he'd sort it out in sickbay once they got back to the Spirit of London. But he was also struggling to focus. The traffic was moving again. Coming the other way was a black London taxi. Johnny squinted to see if he could recognize the Jubilee's trademark camouflage, but as he looked one cab blurred into two and then four. He turned to the side to get round the cart and bumped into the streetsweeper, holding onto the man's overalls to try to stay on his feet. Sol was talking to him through his earpiece, but he couldn't seem to understand what she was saying. And where was Clara? And why was he being lowered to the pavement?

“I've called an ambulance,” shouted the sweeper, sounding very far away. “It'll be here in a moment.”

“No,” said Johnny, trying to get to his feet. He could hear sirens, and felt a firm hand pressed on his chest holding him down. He couldn't focus on anything now. He was being carried. He tried to fight, but his arms and legs seemed to be working several seconds behind what his head was telling them to do. He heard doors being slammed shut, and someone saying that they were both inside. He was dimly aware of Clara lying on a stretcher on what must be the other side of the ambulance, of hearing more sirens and of Sol's voice asking him what was happening. Someone was putting a mask over Johnny's face.

“Deep breaths now—it's oxygen. You took quite a turn.”

Johnny breathed and his lungs seemed to empty of any air that had been there—it certainly wasn't oxygen. He tried to take off the mask, but it was being held firmly to his face by a hand at the end of a green sleeve. His arms and legs were strapped down. The sirens were the only thing filling his brain. His eyes were far too heavy to keep open.

“You're sure about the results?” It was a woman speaking in a flat drawling voice—American, thought Johnny, but not at all like Miss Harutunian.

A man replied. “There's no doubt … none at all. With both children. No. No doubt at all.”

“But you still have no idea what the other half is?”

“Impossible to say. We can only test for a few others. No. Not anything we've seen before.”

Johnny knew better than to open his eyes, but something about that second voice sounded familiar. Very slowly he tried moving his arms and his legs, but they were still fixed to the stretcher he was lying on.

“What have I been telling you?” squeaked a voice that was definitely familiar. “These infants kidnapped me from the galactic capital. I've given you what we agreed. Release me and I assure you that your cooperation will not go unrewarded.”

“Can you be more specific about the nature of those rewards … Chancellor, did you say it was?” asked the woman.

“Chancellor Gronack … Chief emissary between the office of Its Highness The Regent and His Divine Imperial Majesty, Emperor Bram Khari.”

“And the rewards?” prompted the woman.

“Naturally diplomatic protocols do not allow for an exchange of technology with an inferior species such as yourselves,” said Gronack. “However, I am sure payment can be made to your government in whatever mineral resources are deemed valuable on this planet.”

“You say there is a spaceship,” asked the woman.

“Of course there is a spaceship—how else can I travel home? Besides, you couldn't possibly be given that,” said the Chancellor. “Imagine the disparity on this world if one government possessed such technology while others did not.”

“Imagine indeed,” said the woman. “But I agree with you that
governments cannot be trusted. That's why I and my colleagues are above such niceties. We will take your ship, Chancellor, but I assure you it will be in good hands.”

“There is clearly a misunderstanding,” squeaked Gronack. “Regardless of governments, as a representative of the Imperial Court, I insist you carry out my wishes.”

“Actually,” said the woman, “I believe it is you who misunderstands. You are in no position to make demands. Take him away.”

“Him? Him? I have never been so insulted in all my life.”

“Ah it's a female, yes, a female,” said the other voice.'

“I most certainly am not. My gender is not sullied by such primitive distinctions … take your hands off me. We had a deal.”

“Oh and do something to shut it up, will you,” said the woman, as Chancellor Gronack was led away out of the room.

Johnny risked opening an eye to see what was happening. He was lying inside a cage close to some sleek steel bars running from floor to ceiling, separating him from the remainder of a large rectangular room. On the other side of the bars stood a tall balding man in a white coat and a slim woman with shoulder-length black hair in a navy blue jacket and skirt, wearing very high heels. Both of them were standing with their backs to him, in front of a portable table, watching two security guards escort the Chancellor through a thick metal door in the far corner. The man in the white coat turned around. Johnny half closed his eye again, but then opened both of them in surprise. Standing in front of him was Dr. Carrington from St. Catharine's.

“I do believe this one is awake … yes, awake now,” said Dr. Carrington.

“Hello, Johnny,” said the woman turning round, walking across until she was right next to the cage where she knelt
down, her face close to Johnny's, and smiled at him. Johnny thought he'd never seen such a cold smile anywhere. “I'd like to ask you a few questions.”

“Where's Clara?” said Johnny.

“Clara is right behind you,” said the woman, still smiling. “As you can see, she is perfectly safe and will remain so as long as we receive your full cooperation.”

Johnny turned his head and saw Clara, lying apparently unconscious, on an identical stretcher beside him. Behind her, metal shutters covered what he assumed were three windows along one wall, giving no clue whether it was day or night outside. As he looked at his sister he heard a door swing open behind him and the clicking of the woman's heels as she walked into the cage. Johnny turned back to see the American standing beside his stretcher. “If you hurt her,” he said.

“Johnny … dear,” said the woman, patting him on the stomach. “I'm here to help.”

“What do you want?”

“There's no need to be aggressive. I'm your friend, Johnny,” said the woman. “Call me Bobbi. I'm on your side, but I'd like you to help me. I just need a few answers.”

Johnny wondered what on earth he was about to be asked. Did they know where the Spirit of London was? It didn't sound as though Gronack had told them that. What about his mum? With Dr. Carrington here in the room what did that mean for her? And why couldn't he hear Alf or Sol in his ear? They must be looking for him. He mustn't give anything away.

“Can you remember what you did on the 23rd April?” asked Bobbi.

“What? Er … That's my birthday,” said Johnny, puzzled.

“Of course it is. Busy opening presents were you? Out with friends having fun? You didn't do anything bad like trying to hack into the guidance system of a group of radio telescopes?”

“Oh that,” said Johnny, almost relieved, but instantly kicking himself.

“So you admit it? You attempted to seize control of the Very Large Array—a collection of radio telescopes in New Mexico.”

“Well yeah—I didn't do any harm.”

Bobbi was walking around Johnny's stretcher and he strained to lift his neck to follow her. She stopped by his sister's stretcher and stood with her back to him, stroking Clara's hair. “That's not really for you to say, is it now, Johnny? And it's not the first time either, according to our scientists.”

“Whose scientists? Where am I?”

“Why you're in America, of course,” said Bobbi, turning round and showing off a straight set of the whitest teeth Johnny had ever seen.

“We can't be. I wasn't out that long.”

Bobbi raised a pencil-thin black eyebrow. “Believe me, Johnny. You
are
in America, I'm your only friend here and now I'd like you to tell me about those telescopes.”

“It was nothing—just a little subroutine. It couldn't affect them at all.”

“So why did you do it?”

“It was ….” There didn't seem to be anything gained by lying. “It was just a SETI thing.”

“SETI?”

“The search for extra-terrestrial intelligence—signals from space.”

“Ah … extra-terrestrials. We're making progress. Tell me why a supposed thirteen-year-old boy is so interested?”

“Look—I answered your question. I said I did it. I'm not saying any more till you untie me.”

The woman smiled at him. “I've got something to show you,” she said, moving to the end of the stretcher, holding onto the metal handles either side of his feet, and wheeling him out into
the main room beyond the cage and toward the table. She picked up a colored printout and held it out in front of her. “Do you know what this is, Johnny?”

Johnny looked at the piece of paper. It reminded him of some graphs he'd seen on Kovac's monitor what seemed forever ago, but he wasn't going to give Bobbi the satisfaction of telling her.

“No, Johnny? I'll tell you what it is. Something we call a DNA test. Do you know what DNA is?”

“Of course I do.”

“Yours is very interesting—and your sister's for that matter. Do you know why?”

“I'm sure you can't wait to tell me.”

“Johnny … dear—I can't help you if you won't help yourself. You see, I know what you are … or rather, this test tells me what you're not.”

Johnny tried to look defiant, but he was worried. He couldn't help thinking of the journalist he'd met in the alley, going home from the park that day. He'd said, “I know what you are” too. What were they talking about? Johnny bit his lip and asked, “So what am I?”

“Oh you can do better than that, Johnny,” said the woman. “You break into some of the world's most advanced computer systems. You search for signals from outer space. As we just saw with that jumped-up stick insect, you keep some very strange company. You might pretend to be a thirteen year old from somewhere called … Castle Dudbury New Town, but we both know that can't possibly be true, can it?”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that this little piece of paper proves you're not human.” The American woman was holding the sheet right in front of Johnny's face.

“That's stupid,” he said. “How can it prove that?” Johnny looked across to Dr. Carrington who was refusing to make eye
contact with him. Instead, the doctor was looking down at a syringe he was holding.

“Stupid is it?” Bobbi continued. “This is Dr. Carrington—one of the world's experts on xenobiology.” As Johnny glared at him, Dr. Carrington played nervously with the syringe. “That's right, Johnny. A xenobiologist,” continued the American. “His test shows you're not human.”

“Well, partly human to be entirely correct. Partly, yes.”

“How?” Johnny asked, genuinely puzzled. “How can it show that?”

The doctor stepped forward. “Our DNA is made up of four nucleotides or base pairs, yes four, all fitted together into a double helix.”

“Adenine, cytosine, guanine and thymine,” said Johnny, who'd learned this for his own test. “A, C, G, T … so what?”

“So look at the chart,” said the woman.

Johnny peered forward as far as he could while strapped to the stretcher—it was much the same as he'd seen at Halader House. There were the different sequences of letters he'd seen before. “It would help if you untied me,” he said.

“Oh I don't think so,” said Bobbi. “Who knows what you're capable of with your alien DNA.”