Terminal (19 page)

They walked in silence, Will occasionally throwing glances at Elliott as he wondered what was wrong because she didn't seem to be herself at all. While he was used to her being
candid with him, Elliott's behaviour towards Jürgen had been out of character, and Will didn't know the reason for it.

Only when they came nearer to the tower could they appreciate its sheer scale as it spiked into the bright sky. The exterior was completely smooth and grey, with only the odd patch where soil marked it. The overhanging disc-type structure at the top was difficult to look at because of the intensity of the sun, but once they were close enough at least it provided them with some shade.

And there was Woody, standing like a sentinel by the base of the tower where the ground was littered with piles of shattered rock and large boulders. Will put this down to the fact that the tower had burst up through the ground, bringing up strata from deep in the crust.

Woody was watching Elliott attentively as they headed towards him. He didn't seem to have any qualms about meeting her eyes now. In fact, since the inexplicable event at the pyramid the diminutive man in his sunglasses and silly hat had gone through a transformation from an eccentric-looking but harmless member of the party to a rather ominous one, to the extent that both Will and Jürgen were actually rather wary of him.

But Elliott evidently didn't have any such reservations as she went right up to the bushman. He stepped aside to reveal that behind him was another of the symbols with the three diverging rays.

There was no other feature that Will could see on the curved exterior of the tower – just the three rays indented into the perfectly smooth and unmarked wall. ‘That looks just like the panel you touched back at the pyramid,' he noted.

And, as if there was some kind of tacit understanding
between Woody and Elliott, the bushman's eyes were glued to the three indentures as she stretched a hand towards them.

‘No, you don't! No way!' Will shouted immediately, lunging at Elliott to seize hold of her and pull her away from the symbol. ‘I'm not going to let you do that!'

Elliott reacted calmly. ‘It's okay, Will. There's no danger to any of us. Really.'

He released her, letting his arms hang limply by his sides. ‘Just think about the last time you did this.'

She shook her head. ‘That's not going to happen again.'

Will's voice lifted a tone as his frustration grew. ‘Oh, sure, and you really
know,
don't you? Based on what? We're right in the middle of something we don't understand, and who knows how it's going to turn out if you go sticking your hand into that? You might really be hurt this time.' He glared at Woody. ‘Ask him what this tower is, and what it's here for, will you?'

Elliott spoke to the bushman in Styx, and he replied, his expression inscrutable. She asked another question and again he answered in the rasping Styx language. ‘He doesn't know any more than we do,' Elliott told Will.

‘He doesn't give that impression,' Will countered.

Elliott sighed in exasperation. ‘Look, I've tried to ask him. All he says is that this was meant to be. He's using a word I don't recognise, but I think it must mean destiny or fate, or something like that. Maybe it's old Styx.' She stooped to put her rifle on the ground by her feet, then straightened up again. ‘Can't you feel it, Will?' she said. ‘It's all around us.'

Will shook his head. ‘You keep saying that. Feel what exactly?'

‘There's something here, and it's, like, so much bigger than us,' Elliott replied.

Will and Jürgen exchanged glances. A raggedy flock of vultures were picking over the churned-up soil, and a trio of the largest and most unpleasant-looking ones, which resembled burst cushions, were fighting over a tasty morsel. They were making harsh, grating calls as they squabbled, but somehow it suited the moment.

‘No, I don't feel anything different.' Will peered up at the top of the tower with evident misgiving. ‘Look, I want to find out what all this is about as much as anyone, but we have to be careful. We haven't the faintest idea what this tower is here for, so we have to take this one step at a time.'

‘I'm sorry, Will. Nobody tells me what to do,' Elliott stated flatly. ‘This is my choice.'

Will sighed, not knowing what else he could say to persuade her. He'd made his reservations clear and, short of physically restraining her, there wasn't anything more he could do. So he kept his mouth shut as Elliott took one last look at him and moved towards the symbol. But in case she was thrown backwards again, he made sure he was in position to catch her.

Elliott slowly reached out and placed her fingers in the three indentures.

She stepped back as a circular opening with a diameter of around ten feet suddenly appeared in the tower to the left of the symbol. There was no sound, except some loose stones scattering across the floor inside the new opening.

Will remained where he was, but Jürgen immediately slipped past Elliott and began to examine the entrance. ‘The outside skin is several centimetres thick. I can't see where the
door or panel has gone. How … where has it retracted?'

‘It was the same with that trapdoor in the pyramid,' Will said. His tone was such that Elliott gave him a quick glance. Despite all that was going on, he felt thoroughly let down by his friend. She hadn't listened to him.

Jürgen was unaware of this as he continued his investigation, tapping various spots around the opening, his knuckles making barely any sound. ‘I can't tell you what this material is – seems to be neither stone nor metal.'

‘See – there wasn't any danger to us, was there? What did I tell you?' Elliott said to Will, trying a smile on him as she went to collect her rifle from the ground.

Will didn't reciprocate, instead pretending to stare inside the opening. Then he waved a hand towards it. ‘So what now? We go inside? What if it closes again, and we're stuck in there?'

Elliott looked at him blankly. ‘Jesus, you're one big scaredy cat these days! What happened to the great explorer? Maybe you
are
just getting old!'

‘I am
not
getting old,' Will replied. He immediately stormed straight past Jürgen, who watched him with some surprise as he entered the tower without a second thought.

 

 

 

Chapter Seven

C
hester and Parry had been deposited back on the shore by the marines in one of their high-speed inflatables. After all that had happened and the excitement of being on a submarine, it felt strange be on the wind-lashed beach again.

‘So do you reckon we can count them out? The Americans?' Chester asked, as they began to walk towards the cliff.

‘Looks like it,' Parry replied, his expression grim. ‘I'm not surprised that the President dropped us like a hot potato – even if he were to commit his forces, there's no one left to govern this country now.'

For what seemed like hours they had both hung on in the cabin of the submarine, waiting to find out if the conference would resume. But despite many attempts to speak to the White House, the blue-suited man accompanying them couldn't get confirmation that they would be granted another audience with the President. Finally the captain of the submarine had entered the cabin, saying that he had orders to get under way, so Chester and Parry would be escorted back to shore.

‘All the trouble – all the killing – seems so far away,'
Chester reflected as the sun crept up over the far horizon of the sea, and the cliffs began to glow dimly with the rose-hued light of the new day. Although his mind kept returning to what he'd witnessed in London, something from the final moments of the conference was nagging at Chester. ‘Parry, the President mentioned something about a mole in the Styx ranks – is that right? Have you managed to get someone in there?' he finally ventured, as they came to the coastal path at the top of the cliff.

Parry muttered, ‘No, it was nothing,' but Chester noticed that the old man averted his eyes and also increased his pace as they turned inland towards the cottage, making their way through the clumps of gorse.

Parry didn't speak again until they were on the last stretch. ‘Thank you for coming with me, Chester,' he said. ‘It was a lot to ask after the tragedy with your parents. I'm sorry to get you involved all over again.'

‘That's okay,' the boy said. ‘I think it was good for me to get out. I'd sort of got myself stuck down in the dumps.' He smiled affectionately at Parry, pleased that his presence was appreciated. ‘Not sure I really helped you much, though.'

‘You did, immeasurably,' Parry replied. ‘The President must have read a thousand reports on what's been happening in our country, until he was overwhelmed by it. But you gave our plight a human side, and I could see that it was getting through to him and beginning to tip the balance in our favour. Maybe that was why the Styx took action when they did.'

‘Yes, how did they know to blow the cavern roof at that very moment?' Chester asked, as it occurred to him.

‘The Styx had someone on the inside – must have been
easy enough, because my recommendation to carry out regular Purger checks had been ignored,' Parry said. ‘So someone in the Prime Minister's team tipped them off.'

Chester nodded.

‘Here we are,' Parry said as they emerged from the gorse and the cottage came into view. Chester couldn't see any lights on inside, but that was par for the course – Old Wilkie was a stickler when it came to blacking out the windows at nighttime.

And as Parry pushed open the front door, Old Wilkie was in his usual position in his chair in the hallway, his shotgun in his lap, and very much awake. They went into the main room where the embers were still glowing in the hearth. Stephanie had also stayed up, wrapped in a blanket to keep herself warm.

‘You're back! You were gone for ages!' she said brightly, then frowned. ‘But where did you go, anyway?'

‘You won't believe what we …' Chester began, then caught himself. ‘Is it all right if I tell her?' he asked Parry.

Parry nodded. ‘Go ahead – she should know. And I'll brief Old Wilkie in the kitchen.' He glanced at his watch. ‘I hope everyone's packed because we haven't got long before extraction.' He and Old Wilkie crossed to the doorway on the other side of the hearth and went into the kitchen.

When they were alone, Stephanie said, ‘Come on, I want to hear all about it.' She touched Chester's arm, then drew her hand back. ‘You're soaked! Is it raining that hard outside?'

‘Oh, that was the trip back from the submarine,' Chester replied. ‘Where we were talking to the US President and the Prime Minister … well the Prime Minister for a short time until something terrible hap—'

‘Are you pulling my leg?' Stephanie was looking at him, a
smile hovering on her lips. He noticed then that she'd made an effort with her hair and also put on some make-up, and how very pretty she was. ‘D'you know – I don't mind if you
are
teasing me,' she said. ‘You're acting like your old self again. I've missed that. I've missed you.'

Before Chester had time to answer, she had taken him by the arm and was leading him over to the sofa. She'd managed to tune in to an overseas radio station and they sat there with the music in the background as she listened to him talk about the outing with Parry. She couldn't believe it when he told her what had happened in Westminster with the huge opening in the ground that swallowed up the buildings.

As the radio lost the signal and the music stopped, Chester realised how croaky his voice sounded. ‘What with giving the President my life story, I don't think I've ever talked for so long before!' he laughed. ‘I could really do with a drink.'

He began towards the kitchen door, which was open a crack. Although Parry was speaking softly, the cottage was so quiet that Chester didn't have much difficulty hearing what he was saying. As Parry sounded so serious, Chester held back from going straight in, thinking that he should announce himself first.

There was the low rumble of Old Wilkie's voice, to which Parry immediately retorted, ‘No, how can he be told? Not after the calamitous way it played out in the Complex.'

‘What's the matter, Chester? Why've you stopped there?' Stephanie whispered from the sofa.

But Chester didn't answer, because something was troubling him.

He edged a little closer to the door so that he could hear Old Wilkie's side of the conversation too. ‘I'm glad you didn't
tell me before – it would have put me in a very awkward position with the lad.' There was a pause before Old Wilkie continued. ‘I realise the infiltration play has been crucial, but Danforth's too much of a loose cannon for his own good, and ours,' he was saying.

‘Danforth?' Chester mouthed, shaking his head, as the President's words came back to him:
Your mole in the Styx ranks.