The Terminus (18 page)

“Gentleman?”

“Yeah! In his
own funny way Seamus O’Malley
is
a gentleman. He doesn’t want you to
come to any harm… whether or not he honestly believes you
are
the Holy
Virgin. Prepared to put himself out for you.
That’s
being a gentleman.”
A shadow of doubt darkened his face. “Beetie, be honest with me. You were
terrified when I found you. Did anyone touch you, hurt you… do anything bad to
you in the Hatcheries? Please be open.”

Whatever
answer she’d already given him, the thought that she had been molested refused
to leave his mind alone. Her innocence was a fragile thing, like the city
before them. But Beetie kept silent, appearing to absorb every detail of
present-day London, and Gary
could not take his eyes off her.

“You won’t
return me to the future, will you?” she finally asked. “Be honest with me,
too.”

“When I came
to fetch you the only thing on my mind was to bring you here. Get you out of
harm’s way. Give you a new life. But now? It’s all going pear-shaped, with
Arthry coming after you like this.”

“
Pear-shaped
?”

“An expression
of ours. Means ‘not as it should be’. A pear’s a funny-shaped fruit, see. Comes
from a tree… but tastes pretty good.”

“Better than
pizza?”

Gary
chuckled.

“Different!
Look Beetie, I’m sure God meant us to come together. He knew Teeth had dark
plans for you… for those other girls as well, I reckon… and for some odd reason
he chose
me
to rescue
you
. Only can I be certain the Chairman’s
not done... well... erm…?”

You
arsehole,
Gary
,
he thought.
You’ve gotta get lessons in talking from Mike some day!

“You mean what
the Chairman was telling me about in that lesson? Gary,
I’ll only ever allow
you
to do such things to me.
No
one else!”

Beetie reached
across and took Gary’s hand.

Is she a
virgin? Oh God, please make it true,
the boy prayed in his head.
She
doesn’t have to be the Holy Virgin. Just untouched... and pure.

He would’ve
suggested they lose their virginity together on Hampstead Heath, there and
then, if it wasn’t for Seamus O’Malley’s smelly suit.

“There’s all
the other business too,” he continued, giving Beetie’s hand a gentle squeeze.
“Surfacers… whoever they are… no children… not even in the Hatcheries… and
tubes sucking stuff from the heads of those poor bastards before they get
chopped up for gee-rat food... and now Mike! They’ve got his time-specs. And
the Pentatron tablet. Lord knows what the stupid thing has to do with Teeth and
his harem. Beetie, I’ve gotta go back to the future. To the Terminus. Somehow I
don’t think God, the real one… in heaven, that is… reckoned on things ending
here in the present with you and me living happily ever after. Life’s not like
that. Anyway, you’re no longer safe. Present day London
could be alive with Agenda spies. A whole bunch of them could’ve travelled back
in time. We’ve gotta stop this whole thing. Get Mike back. Defeat Teeth.
Together!”

Beetie gripped
Gary’s hand more tightly but said
nothing.

“Remember how
we communicated in the Underground tunnel of the future by squeezing each
other’s hands?” Gary asked.

For a while
Beetie remained silent. She stood and gazed at the city that should become her
present, periodically giving Gary’s
hand a soft squeeze, as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the
right words... or the words were just too awful.

“I promise he
didn’t touch me like that,” she said at last. “I’d rather kill myself than let
him. That lesson of his… if… if you hadn’t been in my head I
would’ve
killed myself.”

“How?”

“Shuttle-bus.
Nothing survives being hit by a shuttle bus.”

“I’ll have to
stay in your head then!” He caressed her hair. “Always! I promise I’ll not
leave you again.”

“Seamus
O’Malley, that tramp gentleman... he talked funny,” Beetie observed changing
the subject.

“How dare
you!” exclaimed Gary in mock
offence. “That’s a good Irish accent. My Granddad came from Ireland.
To be sure, he did!”

“Granddad?
Dad? It’s all so… so strange. The Chairman said
what he was showing me would one day make me a…”

She stopped
short, as though she couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

“The filthy
shit!” exclaimed Gary.

“‘We’ll start
new life together’, he said.”

Gary
noticed anger burning in
her
eyes,
too.

“Of course!
You… and those other girls.
He’s
chosen
you
,
and it’s pretty obvious why, but don’t you see? He wants to start a new colony.
In the Terminus. Arthry told me about London
being doomed… as if
he
cares! Remember? Maybe the Terminus will somehow
be protected.
Perhaps it’s been turned into a
kinda virtual reality paradise. Fake mountains and waterfalls and flowers… even
forests. P’raps the Pentatron tablet holds some scientific clue.”

“Everything
looked so beautiful on the computer screen, Gary.
I used to think to myself, if only I could go to the Terminus on my own with
you inside my head. It was horrible having to pretend all the time.
To
her
.
The warden.
Pretend
I was a good and dutiful girl and would obey the Chairman because I knew she’d
have taken me back to the grey building given the slightest chance. She hated
me.”

“And you
really don’t know why?”

“Wanted my
clothes, maybe?”

“Hardly,
Beetie. The Chairman. She wanted the
Chairman
. Jealous of you... of your
looks.”

“
Jealous
?”

“Many women would
be. Like I told Seamus O’Malley, you’re pretty special, Beetie.”

The girl
laughed.

“Like de Holy
Virgin?” she mimicked.

“Hey… a good
imitation! We’ll make a colleen out of you yet!”

“Who
is
the Holy Virgin, Gary?”

“No religion
at all in the future, ay?” Beetie stared quizzically at the boy. “Here… in this
present… God’s not a person. He’s... well, everywhere. A spirit. He sees us,
knows what we’re up to, only we can’t see Him. Only communicate to Him through
what’s called ‘prayer’. In our heads, sometimes.”

“Like
you
were in my head? I spoke with you all the time.”

“Not quite the
same, Beetie,” replied Gary,
embarrassed by the blasphemy of her suggestion. “We believe – those of us who
do
believe – He controls everything.
Our destinies.
Only you’ve got choices, too. Where you go in the end depends on how you
choose. Teeth and his cronies, they’ll go to hell. For what they did to you…
and what they’re doing to London
and its people of the future.”

“Hell?”

“The opposite
to heaven... to paradise. Bit like the grey building.”

“Yuk! But you
still haven’t told me about the Holy Virgin! What’s so special about her?”

“Different
types of religion in the London you
see out there, Beetie. All see God and stuff in different ways. My granddad
being Irish, our family’s Catholic. The Holy Virgin, she’s important in
our
faith.
The Catholic faith.”

“Faith?”

“What you
believe in… if you do. Not sure
I
do now, though. See, we believe God
gave the world a son… part man, part God… a long time ago. The Holy Virgin was
His human mum so she’s special. Her son was sent to guide the people of the
world. Get them to do things to help make paradise a reality... in the place of
hell.”

“Sounds
complicated.”

“Sure is! And
there’s lots of other religions all with different beliefs.”

“I often
wondered whether I met God once.
Our
God. When I was in the Hatcheries
the first time. When I was a little person. Before my memory got wiped out.
Only they…”

Beetie paused.

“What?”

“They couldn’t
completely wipe out my memory this time, despite all those injections from the
warden. Because
you
were inside me. It’s true! When I saw you again, and
you were for real, things began to come back to me. Slowly. And I’m wondering…
about the God thing...”

“Of course,
Beetie!” interrupted Gary. “It’s so
damned obvious! We’ll use
him
!”

“Who?”

“
Your
God. To get to Mike. Bring him back. I’m not taking you to the future again…
not with Teeth still around, and I’m not leaving you alone here either. We can
get to him through Redfor… and I don’t believe the baloney about God not
wanting to see me. Just Redfor trying to keep us apart for some reason. Maybe
he’s a kinda double agent, the bastard.”

“Baloney?”

“Means
rubbish. Stuff and nonsense.”

“You’ll need
to teach me the strange English of the past!”

“Irish... I
think! But yeah, you’ve a lot to learn. I
was
hoping to bring you along
to my school, but not now… with me being wanted by the police and all that.”

Gary
glanced at his watch. Nearly
six o’clock
.

“She’ll turn up!
Dad’ll try to stop her, but she’ll show. Mums do anything for you.”

Beetie
followed him across the road to the pond and they waited in silence. Gary,
repellently conspicuous in his vagabond outfit, cast nervous glances in all
directions whilst fingering the mag-stunner hidden in the pocket of the
Irishman’s ill-fitting trousers.

***

“She’s trying
to tell us something, Blinker. I mean ‘keep away from windows’ is pretty
specific, isn’t it?
What
windows? Where?”

Mike stood
studying the strange girl sitting on the bed.

Have to
think of a name for her. Not ‘Belinda’. Too old-fashioned, anyway. How about
Cathy? She looks like a Cathy!

“Her name’s
Cathy,” he told Blinker.

“Cathy? Means
nothing to me, but okay... Cathy’ll do fine. Mike, why don’t I sit and chat to
her. See if she comes out with anything else. She might be less intimidated
with only one of us… and perhaps she finds your hairstyle a bit odd.”

“
My
hairstyle odd?” Mike smoothed down his Italian locks.

 “You
could check on the other girls. Find some food. See what’s happening outside.”

“Can I trust
you alone with Cathy, mate?” He winked. Blinker’s vacuous expression unnerved
him. “Sorry! Just joking! Gary
always says to take no notice of me… until he wants me to get him out of some
mess or other. Sure! I’ll check on the others. Some thief from ancient Atlantis
could have…”

“Windows,”
repeated Cathy. “Don’t look out of the windows.”

“
What
windows?”
Mike asked. “Nothing to see from here, anyway. Is it the Terminus you’re on
about?”

“
Never
look out of the windows until told to!”

“What’s the
bleeding point in having windows if you don’t use ’em. Sorry, Cathy! ’Scuse the
vocab! Oh, try and get some sense from the girl, Blinker.”

Leaving the
door wedged open with an item of feminine underclothing he found in a drawer,
he went out into the corridor. The courtyard was still deserted and Mike knew
something was horribly wrong... like Cathy going on about ‘windows’ and Blinker
being so unfazed, despite having more than proved his loyalty to God the Man.
Maybe cocooned from reality for too long... little life experience... no street
cred... or even a bit thick? Difficult to fathom, this boy from the future, but
he, Mike Bellini, would have to do the thinking for both of them.

What about the
girls? Drugged, no doubt, but why on earth had they been left alone in the
courtyard? Where
had
those scheming bastards, Arthry and Teeth, gone?
How come a hoard of machete-swinging surfacers vanished within minutes, leaving
only bloodied prints in the yard? Too many questions danced around inside his
head.

Following
Blinker’s suggestion, he proceeded to check on the girls. The first cell was
empty and he’d personally ushered a girl into the room! Perturbed, he tried the
next one… and the next… and the next. All empty! The entire row... girls gone!
They could never have taken off on their own. It seemed someone was playing a
game with him. He returned to the room marked ‘Belinda’, half-expecting Blinker
and Cathy also to have vanished.

“Disappeared!”
Mike announced. “They’ve all bloody gone, Shruggie! Done a flipping offsky
without even a ‘thank you’! D’you think the geezers with the muscles stole
’em?”

Blinker
shrugged his shoulders.

“Wasn’t much
point in bringing them all here, anyway,” he said lamely. “They’ll only slow us
down if we need to make a quick getaway.”

“Anything more
from Little Miss Talkative? Any reason why she’s going on about windows? We
should get her an OED, you know. Dictionary. Teach her a few more words. Expand
her vocab!”

The other
boy’s eyebrows shifted; barely noticeably, but enough to inform Mike that
Blinker was irritated by his prattle. He often got a similar sign from Gary.

“Not a word!”
replied Blinker.

“Hey… those
marks on Cathy’s arm!” remarked Mike. “A lad in the park back home once had the
same thing. He was into drugs. Could be how she got doped.”

“What marks?
Dunno what you’re talking about, Mike.”

But Cathy
seemed different. More spaced out when Blinker raised her limp arm to check.

“At the elbow!”
insisted Mike. “Needle marks. There! Didn’t notice ’em before, but...” Mike’s
verbal flow stopped. A pin-head of fresh blood showed on one of the marks. “...
they’ve gotta be needle marks. And fresh! From what they doped her with.”

Blinker let
the girl’s arm hang limply.