by Geoff Palmer
‘Is it ... is it one of yours?’ Coral begged.
‘I do not speak mouse and cannot see, but is very tame. You understand me, mouse? One touch for “yes” and two for “no”.’
Alkemy and Coral huddled closer.
‘Yes! Yes! Is one of ours!’ Ludokrus exclaimed.
‘It must be Tim,’ Coral said quietly. ‘Can I have him, please?’
She cupped the mouse in the palm of her hand, stroked its tiny head with her forefinger, then pressed it to her chest.
‘Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,’ she whispered.
37 : Women Drivers
Tim stared wide-eyed out the windscreen as Glad’s red Mini rocketed up the hill towards Dead Man’s Bend. He gripped the side of his seat, feeling his fingernails digging into the fabric. With a lightening flick of the wrist and no loss of speed, Glad changed down a gear and the car hit the corner sideways on, all four wheels skidding across the loose gravel in a perfectly controlled slide.
Tim had never felt so terrified. Or exhilarated.
He glanced at Glad. Her face was set, a mask of concentration as she focussed on the next bend, coming towards them with alarming speed. Another flick of the gear lever, another sideways drift and they flew past the Jones’ place at more than a hundred kilometre an hour.
‘Mustn’t look at the speedo,’ he told himself. It really didn’t help. Still, he’d survived the drive back to the spaceship. He might survive this trip too ...
He’d been aware of the change of pace the moment Glad discovered Norman wasn’t with him. First there’d been the jarring sprint down the Gap, then the ride itself. He’d taken shelter in the tissue box again but that couldn’t muffle the movement or the sounds from the racing engine. He could feel the whole shoulder bag sliding from side to side and clenched wads of balled-up tissue in his paws.
As soon as the lid of the spaceship popped open and he found himself blinking up at bright blue sky through human eyes Glad bombarded him with questions. One glance at Norman’s inert form half-sunk into the slab beside him told them he was still alive; his chest rising and falling regularly like someone in deep sleep. Tim gasped an explanation as they ran back, and he barely had time to scribble a note for Albert and wedge it beneath a tea towel-wrapped plate on the step of the caravan. Alice’s wholemeal piglets, he remembered. Pikelets.
Glad tooted. She’d turned the car round and was revving the engine when he plopped into the passenger seat beside her. She said just two words; ‘Hold on.’
And he was holding on, but it didn’t seem to help.
They’d just come hurtling round another corner — sideways-on as usual — and there, twenty metres ahead, a herd of cows filled the road from side to side as they were being moved from one paddock to another. There was nowhere to go. Both road edges were steeply banked. Collision was inevitable.
Tim gasped. Glad swore. And then, incredibly, she accelerated.
* * *
‘No, no, is good,’ Ludokrus consoled Coral. ‘How could mouse Tim get here from the spaceship? Mouse cannot drive car. He cannot fly. He must have help.’
Coral sniffed. She hadn’t thought of that. He was right.
‘Albert,’ Alkemy breathed. ‘He come back early.’
Albert! It had to be! Right now he was up there dismantling the displacer, or whatever it was he needed to do to get them out. They were saved!
Suddenly the ground gave another violent tremor. Earth from the side walls began cascading down on them. The bottom of the hole became a soft mush and they had to work their feet to keep on top of it. But it was like walking in quicksand. Impossible. They couldn’t keep up.
‘Quick, my hand,’ Ludokrus shouted.
Coral dropped the mouse down her blouse for safe keeping and seized his arm. The three of them, linked in a circle, tramped furiously at the softening ground as a rain of earth fell about their shoulders, plastering their hair and filling their mouths each time they gasped for breath.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped and stability returned. A dim light glimmered somewhere high above. They could see each other faintly for the first time.
‘The displacer is losing power’, Ludokrus said. ‘It make the hole collapse and weaken the projection field that shut out light and lock in sound.’
‘You mean Albert might be able to hear us now?’ Coral said.
It was worth a try. They joined voices, shouting for him to be careful but to hurry; that the power was running out. But shout as they did, there was no response, nor any sign of movement in the distant patch of light.
* * *
The Mini’s engine raced in what Tim was certain would be its — and his — last moments. There was no way through the herd of cows crowding the road ahead. There was no way round them either. The road passed through a hillside cutting, the high, angled banks of the excavation leaving no room left or right.
The leading cows froze, dumbstruck. Tim did the same. Glad simply accelerated.
At the last possible moment she threw the wheel to the left and Tim’s view changed from startled cows to steeply angled bank. Like a cyclist racing round the curved wall of a velodrome, momentum threw the little car up and round the rutted slope. Tim glimpsed the backs of cows below Glad’s side window, then an instant later they bounced back on to the road.
‘There goes my wheel alignment,’ she shouted, slamming down a gear as they raced away. Tim saw with astonishment that she was grinning.
They did slow for town, but not by much, and as soon as they were through it Glad accelerated again, swerving as a black-clad motorcyclist hurtled past them, heading in the opposite direction.
‘Must think it’s Halloween,’ she muttered.
As they approached the school Tim saw the car park was empty. The Millais’ and Edna Doodle had gone for the day. But Glad didn’t stop at the car park. She shot through it, hurtled across the playing field and skidded to a halt right outside the prefab.
Before his shaking hands could find the seatbelt release Glad was out of the car and at the door.
‘It’s locked,’ he said meekly, nodding at the heavy padlock.
‘The hell it is,’ Glad shouted back, raising the her foot and slamming it against the wood below the catch. Once — twice — three times ... Then, with a splintering sigh, the door gave way and they were in.
38 : Dark Matters
‘Good news, we have all four.’
‘Four?’
‘I have just received a transmission from our black-clad friend. He tells me that the Eltherians have been joined by two others. One of the monkey children from the north and a creature under Switch — which can only be the fourth.’
‘Excellent! Then our clean-up is complete.’
‘Not quite. We still need their synthetic companion.’
‘Is it being sought?’
‘Of course. It will know all about their mission. Our masters will be well pleased when we have this information, and the synthetic will supply it.’
‘Not willingly, I take it?’
‘It will be necessary to immobilise it then tease apart its circuits one by one.’
‘How ghastly. I hope we can watch.’
‘It’s not our concern. Our friend will see to it.’
‘And then our mission here will be complete?’
‘Yes. I look forward to it. The filthy greens and blues of this planet make my soul ache.’
‘Mine too. Oh, for the grey, grey ooze of home ...’
* * *
The interior of the old prefab looked different, like another building entirely, until Tim realised that he’d last seen it when he was only a few centimetres tall.
‘Through here,’ he tugged open the door to his left. How much easier it was to get in when you were human-sized!
‘Careful,’ he warned as Glad raced to the hole in the floor. ‘They’re not really steps.’
‘They don’t really look like it,’ she replied.
He joi
ned her. The once solid-looking steps now flickered and blurred like the picture on a faulty TV set.
Glad dropped to her hands and knees and cupped one ear over the opening. ‘I can hear something.’ She threw him the car keys. ‘Quick, there’s a tow rope in the boot.’
* * *
‘Alarm, alarm! There is a disturbance at the site! Call back the Emissary.’
‘Order initiated. It’s on its way.’
* * *
Tim returned with a coil of thick nylon line. Glad snatched it off him, took hold of one end, then threw the rest over one of the exposed roof beams. It landed at her feet and she pulled on the free end, positioning it above the centre of the hole.
‘Quick, tie that to something solid.’
Tim looked about. There was nothing ...
‘The tow bar,’ she shouted.
He raced out, made a slip-knot and secured it to the tow bar of the car. When he returned he saw she’d knotted the rope every metre or so and was lowering it into the hole.
‘They’re down there all right,’ she gasped. ‘I can hear them. But they say the walls are crumbling. We’ve got to hurry.’
Suddenly the rope responded of its own accord as someone down below hauled on it frantically.
A minute later, coughing and spluttering, clambering from knot to knot, a ball of mud emerged that Tim only belatedly recognised as his sister. There was someone else behind.
The walls were crumbling quickly now, a waterfall of dirt. The inrush of earth made climbing almost impossible. Tim and Glad seized Alkemy by the arms and dragged her from the hole.
‘One more!’ Tim cried, catching Glad’s frantic look. He knew what she was thinking. How would they ever find Norman amidst all that?
Ludokrus’s hands appeared, one arm stretched above the other, groping for the next knot in the rope. Suddenly the inrush of earth became a torrent and, with a faint pop, the displacer shut down completely.
Coral screamed as the earth closed around Ludokrus’s outstretched arm.
For a moment no one moved then Glad yelled, ‘Car!’
Tim understood immediately, threw her the keys and raced out to direct her with waves of his hands as she eased the car forward, taking up the slack. Then he gave her a thumbs-up and she revved the engine, tearing gouges in the playing field as the front wheels scrambled for traction.
For five long seconds there was an agonised straining, then the car surged forward and Glad stamped on the brake. Either they’d pulled Ludokrus free or the rope had snapped.
With an ashen face, Tim ran back inside. Glad almost overtook him. Collapsed over the top of the hole, one foot still half-buried, Ludokrus lay gasping, spitting out clumps of dirt. His hands were torn and bloody where they’d slipped against the rope, but he was alive.
‘Thanks,’ he coughed, then, catching sight of Tim, added, ‘Whoa, that was quick.’
Glad and Tim exchanged puzzled glances, turning at Coral’s strangled gasp.
She tugged at the bottom of her muddy blouse, hauled out a wriggling form and held it by the tail.
‘If you’re Tim,’ she cried, ‘who’s this?’
‘Norman!’ Glad exclaimed.
‘Ewww!’ Coral shrieked and dropped the mouse as Glad swooped in and caught him.
‘There you are!’ she said, her voice breaking as she held the mouse up to her face. Norman reared up on to his hind legs and patted her nose with his paws.
‘We have to get him back,’ Tim said. ‘He’s been on Switch for hours.’
That roused Ludokrus. ‘Oh no. We must hurry.’
‘Come on then,’ Glad said. ‘I don’t know if you’ll all fit in my car. It’s going to be a crush.’
Ludokrus grinned and put his arms around his two mud-caked companions. ‘I think we are used to that.’
They followed Glad out, the others pausing in the little porch while Alkemy retrieved her backpack from amongst the tangled chairs. As they moved towards the car a motorcycle raced around the end of the school building, its black-clad rider drawing a long, silver-barrelled weapon from beneath its flapping robe. The air around them crackled as a horizontal lightning bolt shot from the gun. It struck the car and Glad’s red Mini exploded in a ball of flame.
39 : The Black Rider
The force of the explosion — a slamming dry blast like a wind from Hell — threw them all backwards into the porch. All except Glad. She remained where she was, partly shielded by the open car door.
‘Ion beam,’ Ludokrus muttered as they clambered over each other, untangling limbs and getting to their feet. ‘Hurry. It will take a minute to recharge.’
The beam had clipped the front of the car, leaving it a mangled, smoking ruin, before continuing on to strike the corner of the prefab, punching a black edged hole clean through the wall. The Mini’s engine compartment crackled and spat with orange flames. Every window was shattered, while the paint that hadn’t been scorched off by the blast was now bubbling and blistering in the growing heat.
Glad stood stunned, still holding the half-open door as the interior began to catch alight. Choking smoke filled the air as Ludokrus tugged at her free arm but she still had a hand around the door handle. He tugged again, and it was only when the whole door came away that she shook off her shock and hurried back into the building with the others.
One side of her face was scorched and raw, one eyebrow and some of her frizzy hair had been singed, and she was a mass of small cuts and scratches from flying debris.
Alkemy rummaged in her backpack. All she could find was a tube of sunscreen. It would have to do. She dabbed some carefully on Glad’s face. Glad flinched but continued murmuring to Norman who was peering anxiously from the pocket of her bush shirt.
Ludokrus peered through the smoke at the circling figure on the motorbike and the long shiny weapon it carried in one hand. ‘We must disarm him.’
‘How?’ Tim said.
Ludokrus looked around, his gaze lingering on the hole and the defunct displacer. ‘Maybe the battery still retain a little charge,’ he muttered, falling to his knees and fiddling with the clips that held it in place. ‘Help please.’
Coral was also peering at the black-clad rider, but from the hole in the wall at the other end of the building. She could see it circling back and forth through the smoke, guarding the only exit. Then suddenly it switched off the motorbike, kicked out the side-stand and got off. Holding the gun before it, it advanced towards the prefab while Coral tugged on scorched and shattered timbers, trying desperately to clear a second exit.
Once it had been removed from the hole, the displacer hoop was almost two metres across and reminded Tim of a giant aerial. They wedged it up against the wall beside the open classroom door. Ludokrus steadied the control box against the blackboard, his finger on the power switch.
Alkemy appeared, snatched up the coiled tow rope, then vanished again. A few seconds later, Coral stuck her head around doorway of the storeroom. ‘I’m through the wall,’ she hissed. ‘It’s coming.’
Ludokrus nodded grimly. Tim took up his position.
The black-clad Emissary advanced into the prefab slowly but confidently, its silver-barrelled weapon swinging left and right, primed for instant action. At a cry of alarm from the open door it turned to see a frightened monkey-child dart across the room. It took aim, then hesitated. The boy was not one of its primary targets. The shot would be wasted and it would take another minute for the weapon to recover full power. But the monkey-boy would be running to his friends ...
It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Tim’s cry and run to distract the Emissary wasn’t just good acting, he really was frightened. And the speed with which the black-cloaked killer robot reacted was startling. Tim could feel the gun trained on him, and tensed at the thought of the shattering impact of the energy bolt.
But the shot never came, and as he dived into the storeroom he saw the barrel of the gun pass through the doorway and heard Ludokrus flick the switch on the displa
cer.
There was a sudden hum like the buzzing of an irritated insect, and the barrel of the gun — along with the outer frame of the door and part of the wall — was snatched by the displacer field and hurled horizontally across the room. The other end of the gun, still in the Emissary’s hand, was jerked forward, the force triggering the weapon, which exploded in a jet of white-hot flame.
Ludokrus raced after Tim as the Emissary staggered into the classroom, one arm shattered by the explosion, the other flailing at the flames that engulfed its head and shoulder. He pounded through the storeroom just in time to follow Tim through the hole Coral had made in the outer wall.
40 : Rope Trick
‘One-nil,’ Ludokrus shouted, diving through the hole in the side of the prefab and racing after Tim, laughing as he ran. ‘Did you see that?’
Tim, who reckoned he’d seen enough of the black-clad machine, kept his head down and raced towards the Gap.
‘The others. They are OK?’
‘Ahead of us,’ Tim called as they plunged into the welcoming shelter of the gorse, following the track as it turned and twisted. He felt safe, shielded by the dense vegetation and the winding path but knew that soon the gorse would thin and the track straighten, giving their pursuer a clear shot.
Behind them an angry roar announced the restarting of the motorbike.
Skidding round the next tight bend, they raced down a long, straight stretch and found Coral and Alkemy engaged in a strange slow motion dance. One was making spreading movements with her hands while the other was throwing scooped-up dust and leaves into the air.
‘What are you ...?’ Tim began. Then he realised.
Glad emerged from a patch of undergrowth, dusting off her hands. ‘That’s as tight as I can make it,’ she said.
Tim shook his head as he looked at their handiwork. It was brilliant. Simple and brilliant. When Alkemy had snatched up the rope from the classroom he’d no idea she had this in mind.
They’d slung it across the track about a metre from the ground and secured it to two stout trees. But a brightly-coloured nylon tripwire would have been obvious, so they’d camouflaged it. Smeared with Alkemy’s sunscreen, the tacky surface was carefully dusted with handfuls of leaves and earth, making the rope practically invisible. But best of all was where they’d tied it; just before the bend above the gravel pit.