The Citadel and the Wolves (12 page)

Tommy sat at the breakfast table, shovelling the corn flakes down his throat. He had a big appetite first thing in the morning.

Yawning, Wendy, whose eyes were still full of sleep, wandered into the kitchen in her nightdress. She glanced at Tommy.

“Jade, why do you spoil him?” she asked.

“I don’t,” I insisted with a sigh. “He beat me into submission. You know Tommy?”

She murmured.

“If you’re making breakfast, Jade, would you crack two more eggs for me?”

I obeyed. The fried eggs spat in the hot oil.

She shivered.

I noticed, puzzling me. “Cold?”

She shook her head. “I feel so dirty in the morning after sleeping the night in the cellar, Jade. I need to take at least two showers to wash it off.”

“Wendy, dad’s only being cautious.”

“Personally, I don’t believe in all this comet stuff,” growled Wendy who was in a grumpy mood.

“I wish I didn’t, Wendy. The wettest summer on record so far, last year’s hottest summer on record, the drought, followed by the freezing winter, it all makes sense to me.”

She folded her arms, frowning. “Well, it doesn’t to me, Jade Robinson. All this talk of giant comets hitting the earth frightens me. Kevin thinks it’s all daft.”

He would, I thought.

“We’ve been through all of this before, Wendy. The comet is from Jupiter. It’s fragments from the Icarus 9 Comet that hit the giant planet in the 2015 summer.”

“You’ve told me this before many times, Sis. How can you and daddy be so sure that it’s going to hit the earth?”

I saw the fear in her eyes. She needed some reassurance. I slipped my arm around her. I was strong for her.

“I’m not, Wendy,” I said. “It may never happen, Sis, but whatever the future brings, we’ll always have each other.”

Wendy brightened up. “I guess.”

She smiled and laid her head on my shoulder. I had lied.

After breakfast, Wendy and I showered together to save on hot water, though that wasn’t the real reason. We simply love a good gossip in the shower.

“Kevin is calling around tonight, Jade,” announced Wendy unnecessarily.

As she passed the soap to me, she shot me a warning look.

“What?” I asked.

“Try to be nice to him for once, Jade,” replied Wendy.

I murmured. I wasn’t about to make a promise that I couldn’t keep later.

After the shower, we dressed.

I found father hunched over his second computer in his downstairs study, which was cluttered with science papers, science magazines and old science text books. The low rain clouds at night had made it impossible for him to chart the progress of Robinson’s Comet now, so he used his computers instead to do all of his latest calculations. He didn’t notice me till I wrapped my arms around him. I gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Jade.”

I looked past his broad shoulder. There was a jumble of figures on the computer screen.

“Well?” I inquired.

“She hasn’t altered her course,” answered daddy in a resigned tone. “I’ve confirmed my latest data on the comet with Doctor Frost’s. She’s still coming our way.”

I remained calm. “When?”

“Very soon, Jade,” he replied grimly.

“Wendy is scared,” I revealed.

“You?”

I shook my head. I wasn’t scared, for I knew in my heart that we’d be okay whatever happened to the world around us.

I assured him, “The comet won’t hit London, Daddy.”

He chuckled, squeezing my hand tightly. I noticed the look in his eyes. I suddenly realised that daddy was very scared too.

It was raining buckets when Wendy and I came out with our hoods up. We gratefully vanished into the dry of daddy’s car. The relentless rain pounded on the roof. I wondered if it was raining all over the world. It probably was. We swung out of the drive, turning into the Close.

I glanced at the long queue at the bus stop as we sat in our car in the high street. The people looked wet and miserable. Rather them than me, I thought selfishly. We were stuck in a traffic jam that had been caused by an accident further up ahead, involving a lorry and a van in a minor collision on the wet, slippery roads. No one was seriously hurt.

The rain had strangely abated by the time we arrived at school. We were late for class needless to say. It was worse for father because he was a teacher.

As Wendy and I crossed the pavement to the main school gates, we noticed a small group of girls from the school chatting to a young guy in a leather jacket, jeans and dirty trainers. When he said something to them, they giggled. I wondered briefly what the joke was. One or two glanced at us. Then one of the girls pointed at Wendy and I, puzzling us. The leather jacket, jeans and dirty trainers approached us by the school gates.

“Are you Wendy and Jade Robinson?” he inquired, flashing a smile.

But the other’s official tone made me immediately suspicious.

“Who’s asking?” I asked.

“No need to be so defensive, Jade,” he remarked.

He knew my name. The others had told him.

“The name’s Barry Gates. I’m a London Post reporter,” he announced.

Then he showed us his press card, which we examined carefully. I remembered our last encounter with a so-called reporter who wasn’t. The press card that included a hologram picture of Barry Gates looked authentic enough; however, the doubts in my mind remained.

“Anyone can get a card like this made by a local printer for a few euros,” I said airily.

He chuckled. “Ring the office number on the card, Jade. They’ll verify who I am.”

The reporter from the London Post newspaper was unshaven. He was a bit scruffy, I thought.

Wendy wore a silly smirk on her face, nudging me. I ignored her. When he winked at her, she giggled.

I quizzed, “What do you want, Mr Gates?”

He smiled. “Call me Barry, Jade.”

I didn’t.

“I’d like to ask you a few questions, Jade,” he answered.

“What about?”

“The comet.”

Wendy and I hurried up the main school staircase. We were a little late for class after our brief encounter with Barry Gates from the London Post.

“Barry Gates is a hunk,” declared Wendy breathlessly. “I fancy him rotten.”

I shook my head in disbelief.

Wendy was suddenly worried. “Jade, was that a good idea of yours agreeing to give the London Post reporter an interview at lunchtime?”

“Of course, Wendy,” I answered with a smile on my face. “We get a free meal out of him in the bargain.”

She rolled her eyes.

We met Barry Gates, the London Post reporter, again in a burger restaurant near the school. It was our favourite lunchtime haunt. Wendy and I ordered shakes, Coke, burgers, fries and the sweet, but Barry Gates wasn’t too bothered. He wasn’t paying for it out of his own pocket. The paper was. He’d claim it all back on his expense account with a little bit more besides, I suspected.

We took our meals to a table by the window. Barry Gates drank black coffee. He called it a liquid lunch. I noticed the wry grin on his face as Wendy and I wolfed down the fries and burgers. Yeah, it was junk food, but Wendy and I loved it. Besides, I never put on any weight. I burned off all the calories in mental energy.

“So, Barry, what do you want to know?” asked Wendy, spitting bun.

He turned to me, disappointing Wendy.

He opened his notebook on the table. “Jade, what can you tell me about the Icarus 9 Comet?”

“It hit Jupiter in 2015,” I answered concisely. “It was on all the news at the time.”

The smiled appeared again. “Humour me, Jade,” said Barry Gates patiently. “We both know what I’m talking about.”

“Do we?”

He sighed. I was wearing him down. I wanted him to work hard for the information. Then Wendy spoilt my fun.

“A big comet is going to hit the world very soon,” she blurted out.

He scribbled something down in his notebook. “Most of these comets burn up in the earth’s upper atmosphere, don’t they?”

I was impressed. He’d obviously done his homework on the subject.

“Not this one,” I illuminated. “It’s big and fragmented, made of metals and rock. It won’t burn up in the earth’s upper atmosphere.”

“How big?” he probed.

“The biggest rock in the comet is over one kilometre in diameter,” I answered.

He stopped writing. “That seems rather incredible to me, Jade.”

I was annoyed. “If you don’t believe me, Mr Gates, ask Doctor Frost at the Mount Stephen Space Observatory.”

The name didn’t register with him.

When Wendy and I came out of the burger restaurant later with our stomachs full, it had stopped raining. The sun came out for the first time in many weeks. How very odd, I thought. Something strange was happening out there in outer space, and I knew what it was, the Comet.

Barry Gates thanked us for the interview outside the burger restaurant. Wendy, who had been making eyes at him throughout the lunch, wanted to see him again till she discovered that he was happily married with two, young kids. Still, she did have Kevin Willis to look forward to in the evening.

We declined Barry’s offer of a lift. We walked back to school as it had suddenly become a fine, pleasant summer’s day.

Wendy was worried again. “Jade, did we do the right thing giving an interview to that London Post reporter?”

“Yeah.”

“If dad finds out, he’ll be mad with us,” warned Wendy darkly.

I put my arm around her to reassure her.

“Don’t worry, Sis, our interview will probably end up on the funnies page. I don’t think Barry Gates took us very seriously.”

Boy, was I wrong.

I woke with a start in the half-gloom of the cellar. The others still slept. It was early. Tommy’s chubby, wet face was pressed into my bosom. He had crept into our bunk during the night. I gave him a little nudge, knocking him off me. He pressed his plump face into Wendy instead. I waited till some of the sleep had slipped out of my head before I rose without disturbing the others.

I sleepily floated down the hall in my
Girls Kick Ass
rock print top over my open dressing gown. The papers lay on the doormat with the morning post. It looked like junk mail and bills. They never stopped coming. I ignored the post and the papers as I unlocked the front door to take in the milk and cream that we liked in our morning coffee. As I took in the milk and cream, something made me look up at that moment. A small crowd had gathered outside our front gate. One or two had expensive-looking cameras. Bulbs flashed. They were taking pictures of me in my night clothes. One or two called out my name from the crowd. I fled inside horrified, slamming the front door shut. Who were they? What did they want? I already knew. When I saw the headline on the front page of the London Post, my heart sank. Oh, DROKK!

GIANT COMET FROM JUPITER

TO HIT

THE EARTH SOON?

The question mark puzzled me however.

Wendy and I sat around the breakfast table with the rest of the family later. Father was reading the front page of the London Post in absolute silence. He didn’t look very pleased. In fact, I think he was furious. When he looked up, I couldn’t meet his accusing eyes.

“Jade?”

I giggled nervously behind my cup of coffee.

“What on earth were you and Wendy thinking?” he asked in a quiet, measured voice.

I tried to explain, “He seemed harmless, Dad.”

“Who?”

“The London Post reporter.”

He sighed wearily.

“We-We didn’t think he’d take us very seriously, Daddy,” spluttered Wendy.

“And he bought us a nice meal too,” I added foolishly.

He shook his head. “What is done is done, and it can’t be undone.”

Wendy and I looked at each other and grinned.

“However…”

The smiles vanished from our faces.

Father drove us to school that morning as usual. Although our family had become almost celebrities overnight, life had to go on as normal. Nothing much had changed, though it had of course. The world had woken up to the fact that a giant comet was going to smash into our beautiful planet very soon…perhaps in a matter of weeks, even days. The thought made me shudder. In some ways, I think daddy was relieved that the rest of the world knew too. Knowing the awful truth for the past two years had become such a heavy burden on his shoulders. Now, he was sharing it with the rest of mankind, thanks to Wendy and I.

However, the expected widespread panic on the streets never materialised, puzzling me at first. People went about their daily lives totally unconcerned, it seemed. I suspected that many refused to accept this awful thing. They didn’t want to believe it. And how many people believe what they read in the papers? It had turned them all into cynics. They were looking forward to a bright future ahead of them, bringing up their families, retiring one day with a company pension and not dying suddenly and violently beneath the path of a fiery comet. Questions weren’t asked in the Commons. It wasn’t debated in the House. MP’s had other things on their minds. They had a general election on their minds. Although father never said anything, I felt that he was bitterly disappointed. No one took the stories in the papers seriously anymore. They didn’t want to because they were afraid of the truth. On a lighter note, Wendy and I started an internet fan club on our computer. We called it
Spot the Comet.
Wendy was hoping to find a new boyfriend on the internet; however, mummy wasn’t amused when she found out about it. When all the fuss had died down, things seemed to return to normal in our part of the universe. The hordes of reporters and press photographers who had been camped outside our front gate for weeks vanished one morning. We were no longer news worthy. The papers had had their fun. The phone stopped ringing endlessly and the sacks of mail became a trickle of letters. Most people had forgotten all about the comet by late July. They were enjoying their annual vacations. They deserved them, for they had worked hard all year. The comet was a distant memory.

Then Icarus 9 finally arrived in our night sky. The coming of the comet was witnessed by millions worldwide. But she wasn’t seen as a threat. Many saw her as a thing of beauty instead; a new star shining brightly in the dark heavens. Some of our neighbours in the Close camped out in their back gardens waiting for her nightly appearances, weather permitting. Others held barbecues and celebrated her arrival with cold beer and burnt offerings. Cults, which were dedicated to the comet, sprang up all over the world. One strange cult in America was building a rocket, so their followers could fly up into space to meet the comet, but they ran out of money before they could complete the project. With every passing day though, she grew brighter and bigger in the night sky. We knew that she was drawing closer to us. We waited for her deadly embrace.