Nina glimpsed Shankarpa and the other surviving guardians watching in wonder as they flashed past - then they disappeared from sight as the glider dropped below the uppermost tiers. ‘Up would be good. Up, up, up!’
‘I’m bloody trying!’ Eddie shouted. If pushing forward made them go down, maybe pulling back would do the opposite . . .
He hauled at the wooden levers. More alarming creaks came from the wings, the fabric rippling and flapping. But it seemed to be working - the vimana’s nose began to tip upwards—
‘Eddie, look out!’ cried Kit. The MD 500 came into view directly ahead, descending towards them.
‘Whoa, shit!’ Not having a clue how to steer, he jammed the controls sideways in the hope it would bank the glider. It worked - the vimana veered left.
But now it was heading for the valley wall, the carvings on the tiers reaching out to snatch at its fragile wingtip—
He yanked the controls back the other way, pulling them to gain height. The vimana was buffeted violently in the downdraught as they passed the gunship. The rocket was still burning, thrusting them along the valley with ever-increasing speed.
Towards the cliff at its end.
A column of oily smoke roiled from the wrecked Chinook, but it couldn’t mask the great wall of grey stone rising ahead. ‘Whatever you did to make us go up,’ Nina said fearfully, ‘do it more!’
Eddie strained to pull back the controls. Pops and cracks came from the overstressed wood. The snow-covered clifftop came into view as the vimana climbed, but the glider was losing speed, even the rocket’s power not enough to overcome the weight of three people. ‘Come on, you bugger,’ he gasped. If they didn’t increase their angle of climb, they would crash into the rock wall just short of the summit. ‘Come on, come on, fucking come on!’
The wings crackled, fabric stretched to tearing point - but they weren’t going to make it . . .
Nina screamed as they hit - and kept going, bursting through the thick snowdrift atop the cliff. She spat out snow. ‘Jesus Christ, Eddie!’
‘I wasn’t worried,’ he lied. They flew over the pass through the ridge, an updraught raising them higher. Mount Kedarnath rolled vertiginously before them. With the weather far clearer than on the previous two days, they could see all the way to the distant lowland plains. ‘Look at that!’ he whooped, laughing. ‘We did it, we got out of there! Yes!’ He took one hand off the controls for a moment to pump his fist. ‘So my hearing’s a bit knackered - so what? I don’t need ears to kick arse!’
‘That you don’t,’ Nina told him, managing a quick smile.
‘Without wanting to sound negative,’ said Kit, who had only just opened his eyes to take in the landscape wheeling below, ‘we are not exactly home and dry yet.’
Eddie gestured to the southwest. ‘We’re not far off, though. We can fly this thing back to Kedarnath. Maybe even all the way to Gaurikund!’
‘Just like the priests of Shiva,’ said Nina. ‘This is incredible! Terrifying, but incredible.’
Kit was more pragmatic. ‘You can fly it . . . but can you land it?’ ‘Find out soon, eh?’ Eddie said, turning southwest.
The rocket popped and fizzed, then burned out. Nina looked back to make sure nothing was on fire - and saw they hadn’t escaped all the threats in the lost valley. ‘Eddie! The chopper’s coming after us!’
The MD 500 had turned to follow its unexpected prey, accelerating after the vimana. The gunner withdrew the rocket launcher, the M249 returning in its place.
‘Bollocks!’ Eddie hissed. Even if the gunship didn’t shoot them out of the sky, it could simply follow until they landed and pick them off from the air - or even force them to crash by flying overhead and using the rotor downwash as a weapon. He had to lose the helicopter if they were to have any chance of survival - but how?
The view ahead gave him an answer. He banked the vimana back towards the towering mountain.
‘What are you doing?’ Nina asked, anxiety rising as the peak filled her view.
‘I’ve got a plan.’
‘Is it a good one?’
‘Probably not - but it’s all I’ve got!’ He glanced back. The chopper was about five hundred metres behind, and closing. ‘Tell me when he points the gun at us.’
Nina looked over her shoulder as Eddie’s attention returned to the looming mountain. While the sky was mostly clear, the ever-changing weather of the Himalayas had formed bands of clouds around Mount Kedarnath. One in particular had caught his eye. He banked towards it.
The wings shook as another gusting updraught caught them. But even though they were climbing, they were still getting closer to the ground every second as it rose up steeply before them.
‘Eddie, gun!’ Nina warned. He shoved the controls sideways, banking the vimana to the left. Tracer bullets whipped past on their right. He swung back in that direction before the next burst was unleashed, the bullets this time passing to the left.
Nearer than before. He pulled the rods back to gain more height, heading for the wedge of cloud jutting from the mountainside. Another cry from Nina and he banked hard right as more shots seared past, getting closer and closer as the gunner tracked the glider—
Flat whaps from the wing as bullets ripped through it were followed by a terrifying crack of wood: a support spar had been hit. The vimana lurched, veering left as it lost lift on that side. Eddie forced the control levers over even harder to compensate. They were now almost beneath the cloud, a great grey mass tilting upwards from the mountainside . . .
A flag cloud. The harbinger of a storm.
And they were heading right into it.
30
‘Hold together,’ Eddie begged the ancient flying machine as the creaks from the wounded wing grew louder.
‘They’re firing!’ Nina wailed. More tracers streaked at them, bullets smacking against rock just ahead of the glider—
A huge surge of wind suddenly seized the vimana and propelled it up the cliff with a terrifying rush of speed. Gale-force air currents were sweeping upwards, giving the flag cloud its distinctive appearance - and carrying them into its heart.
Visibility dropped to nothing as the screaming wind battered them. All Eddie could do was hope he was pulling the controls hard enough to keep the glider from ploughing into the mountain.
The cracks from the wing were joined by an almost explosive bang as another spar gave way. The vimana was disintegrating—
They burst out of the flag cloud - almost close enough to reach out and touch the cliff as it blurred past. Eddie forced the glider into a steeply banking turn away from the rockface. They were losing speed even with the boost of the wind from below, threatening to stall . . .
A shriek of engines and whirling blades - and the MD 500 blasted out of the cloudbank after them.
It too had been swept upwards by the wind, but while the vimana’s wings had carried it practically parallel to the steep cliff, the helicopter had emerged too close to the unforgiving rock—
Its rotors smashed into the mountainside and shattered. Instantly losing all lift, the fuselage hit the cliff face. The gunner, leaning out to find his quarry, was smeared up the rock in a long red line. Tumbling, breaking apart, the MD 500 blew to pieces, streaks of liquid flame raining back down into the stormcloud below.
One danger gone - but they were still in the grip of another. The wind howled past the vimana, the torn wing flapping angrily. Eddie hooked one foot over Kit’s ankle to help hold him in place as he aimed the glider back down the mountain. ‘Okay! Let’s hope this thing doesn’t fall apart!’ he shouted as he levelled out.
Nina looked ahead. Past the cloud, she made out the village nestling at the head of the valley. ‘How far is it?’
‘About three miles - but I’m going to get as far down the valley as I can - ah!’ The vimana dropped sharply, emerging from the gusty updraught into calmer air.
‘You, uh, might have to rethink that,’ said Nina.
‘After everything we’v
e just been through, I’m not going to die in a sodding plane crash.’ He yanked back the levers. ‘Maybe we can catch an air current.’
‘Or we could just, y’know, land,’ she countered.
‘We just need a bit more height, then we can fly right down the valley.’
‘The valley that was full of boulders and rivers and other things we don’t want to hit?’
‘Picky, picky!’
‘I’m in favour of the “landing immediately” plan,’ Kit piped up.
‘And walk all that way on one leg?’
‘Better than on no legs!’
The wind picked up as they drew closer to the valley. Eddie raised the vimana’s nose; it slowly began to climb. ‘See? I know what I’m doing - I’m not just a pretty face!’
‘God, I hope you’re right,’ said Nina.
He huffed. ‘Name one time when I’ve been wrong.’
‘When you went to Switzerland to rescue Sophia and accidentally ended up helping her steal an atomic bomb?’
‘Yeah, I thought that might come up,’ he muttered, nudging Kit.
‘See, this is the problem with getting married. Wives remember every bloody little thing . . .’
‘I’ll remember that if I live to get married,’ Kit replied.
Eddie grinned, then turned his full attention to the delicate balancing act of keeping the glider in the air. He had to trade airspeed against altitude, risking a stall every time he climbed.
The village drifted past below, the winding line of the river heading down the valley. He made a gentle turn to follow it. ‘See? This is better than walking.’
‘We’ve still got eight miles to go,’ Nina reminded him. ‘And we’re getting lower.’
‘So’s the valley.’
‘We’re going down faster.’
‘Thought you liked it when I go down fast?’
‘Eddie!’
‘We’ll make it,’ he assured her.
But they had already lost almost half their initial height. Eddie angled upwards, the wind’s whistle dying away as they slowed. There was a roller coaster feeling of weightlessness as he levelled off, then they began to drop again.
More quickly than before. A faint hiss of tearing fabric came from the damaged wing, and the vimana listed. Eddie quickly compensated, but it took more effort than before. ‘Okay, maybe only some of the way.’
Nina searched for potential landing sites. They were past the relatively easy upland approach to the village, floating above rugged slopes through which the river had cut a gorge. ‘How long have we got?’
‘I dunno - two miles. If we’re lucky.’
‘Okay, okay,’ said Nina, forcing herself not to panic. ‘Keep over to the right, away from the river.’ She squinted into the distance, seeing dark shapes taking on dimensionality against the snowscape. They were down to an altitude that could support more varied plant life than tough grass. ‘Eddie, those bushes - if we fly into them, they’ll cushion our landing.’
‘Hopefully,’ he replied. If they were moving too fast, they would tear straight through them - pitching the vimana’s passengers into the gorge. ‘Hold tight!’
They flew down the valley, the rough ground undulating beneath them - but drawing inexorably closer. The bushes were spattered across the valley floor like specks from a paintbrush. Eddie found a fairly dense patch, and judged the distance to it. If he pulled up almost into a stall, then descended sharply, it should catch them before they built back up to a dangerous speed.
Should being the operative word.
He made a final course adjustment. ‘Okay, here we go.’
Kit regarded the approaching vegetation with an increasingly unhappy expression. ‘What if it doesn’t stop us?’
‘Then we’ll find out which religion’s right! Ready, ready . . . hang on!’
He hauled the controls back as hard as he could. The vimana pitched up sharply, the wood groaning. They were gaining height, but slowing, slowing . . .
‘Now!’ He shoved the wooden levers forward. The nose dipped—
Too late. They had lost too much speed - and stalled, the vimana plunging almost vertically. ‘Oh, shit, shit!’
He yanked desperately at the controls. Something in the wing snapped. The ground rushed at them—
With a whump, the fabric of the wings filled with air and pulled taut one last time. The vimana shot forward like a daredevil bird swooping out of a dive just short of the ground. Nina shrieked and shielded her eyes as it crashed through the bushes in a burst of snow, stubby branches whipping at her face.
But they didn’t stop.
The vimana ripped the bushes right out of the ground. For a moment it seemed that it was going to take off again - then with a huge crack the wings finally collapsed, broken spars and shredded silk trailing behind the glider as it crashed down on its runners.
And still it kept going. It had turned from an aircraft into a sledge, slithering downhill at an ever-increasing pace.
Nina hurriedly unwound her wrists from the leather straps as she saw what lay directly ahead. ‘We’re gonna go into the river!’
‘Everybody off!’ said Eddie.
‘What do we do?’ Kit asked, eyes wide as he saw the rapidly approaching gorge.
‘Just jump!’ Eddie grabbed him and leapt from the back of the platform. Nina followed. Human snowploughs, they bounced and skittered down the hill after their former ride. Despite Eddie’s best efforts, he lost his grip on Kit. The two men separated, skidding along on their backs.
Nina, the lightest, was the first to be slowed by the mass of snow she had collected in front of her. Dazed, she lifted her head to see two white fountains continuing past. ‘Eddie!’ she shouted as the broken vimana sailed over the edge of the gorge and smashed on the rocks below.
Eddie had also witnessed the glider’s sudden disappearance. He spread his arms and legs wide for extra drag, digging his heels down through the snow.
He felt his soles tearing small stones from the iron-hard ground - then nothing . . .
It took a moment for him to realise he had stopped. He shook snow from his face, then cautiously sat up. Both legs were dangling over the edge of the gorge. Fifty feet below, the vimana’s remains were being swept away by the river.
He dragged himself back to solid ground. Nina staggered down the slope, while Kit lay to one side, having stopped barely a foot short of the gorge. ‘Everyone okay?’ Eddie groaned.
Kit weakly cradled his left wrist. ‘My arm . . .’
Eddie examined it. It didn’t seem broken, but he guessed it was badly sprained. Using his belt as a makeshift sling, he and Nina helped him stand. ‘We’re about four miles from Gaurikund,’ he said, remembering the lie of the land from their ascent. ‘You think you can make it?’
Kit managed a feeble smile. ‘Well, it’s downhill, at least.’
‘You’ll be fine. You got him, Nina?’
She supported him from the other side. ‘Got him. Ready, Kit?’
‘I’m ready.’ They started down the hill. ‘So . . . this is archaeology?’
‘Yeah. Ain’t it great?’ Nina said sarcastically. ‘Just when you think things couldn’t possibly get any worse, they do.’
A rumbling chatter echoed down the valley. ‘Like now,’ said Eddie. The Khoils’ red and white helicopter was visible in the distance - heading towards them.
‘Oh, man!’ Nina protested. ‘Why can’t they just leave us alone?’
‘Those bushes,’ Eddie said, pointing to a patch of snow-laden shrubs nearby. They hustled Kit over and crouched behind them, watching anxiously as the helicopter drew steadily closer. Had its occupants tracked the vimana as it made its descent - and was Zec now preparing to shoot the survivors? It kept coming, passing almost directly overhead . . .
And continued southwards.
‘They must be going back to Delhi,’ said Nina, watching it shrink into the distance.
‘Great,’ Eddie said. ‘They’ll be there in an hour, a
nd we’ll be lucky to reach Gaurikund by nightfall. Maybe we should have thumbed a lift with them.’
Kit shook his head. ‘Even I would prefer to walk.’
Eddie and Nina both smiled, then with Kit between them began the long trek back down the valley.
Eddie’s estimate was accurate: it was dusk by the time they finally reached Gaurikund. First aid was quickly arranged for Kit, but his priority was phoning Interpol headquarters in Delhi. Unfortunately, the news he got after reporting events was bad - the Khoils had already left India aboard their private jet.
A helicopter was quickly arranged to fly the exhausted trio to the capital. After being debriefed at Interpol, Kit was taken away to have his wounds treated. Eddie and Nina also gave statements before their injuries, less serious, were checked by a doctor, but after that were left alone in a conference room, with nothing to do but wait as the bureaucratic machine ground into motion.
‘You okay?’ Nina asked, resting her head on her husband’s shoulder. A muted television mounted high in one corner was showing CNN, images of President Cole’s visit to Japan in the lead-up to the G20 summit flashing past.
Eddie fingered the bandage covering the cut he had received from the statue of Kali. ‘Still got all my important bits, so okay. You?’
‘Fine. More or less. I was thinking about Girilal. He didn’t deserve to die like that.’
‘He didn’t deserve to die, full stop. He saved our lives, though. Twice. That’s got to be good for his karma.’
‘I just hope his beliefs helped him at the end,’ said Nina morosely. ‘But at least he got to see his son again, and they settled some of their differences.’
Eddie gave her a sharp look. ‘Meaning what?’
‘Meaning . . . what it sounds like.’ It took her a moment to realise what he was saying. ‘You know, if you don’t want to speak to your father that’s up to you, but it doesn’t mean everyone’s pushing you to do it.’
‘Yeah, yeah, okay. Sorry.’ He changed the subject. ‘Don’t know about the karma of Shankarpa and the others, though. They might have ended up on our side, but they still tried to kill us. And Christ knows how many other people they knocked off before then.’
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