Infinity Drake 3

by John McNally

  “Come on,” said Finn.

  The heartbeat soundtrack had returned too – dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu, DHU-DHU, DHU-DHU, dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu – punctuated by spikes of pressure, and a kind of distant whale song …

  FEBRUARY 22 00:44 (GMT+3). Great Cavern, Monastery of Mount St Demetrius of Thessaloniki

  “ARRGHHH! ARRRRRRRAAA!” Kaparis cried out, struggling to contain the pain as more connections were made.

  He made no sense now, just noise, only breaking from his suffering to scream no at any suggestion of a pain-killer.

  He was a god made flesh, and each nail hammered through him was a miracle.

  “ARRGHHH!”

  Dangling just a few metres above him, Santiago flashed his signal light back up the shaft.

  And down they went again.

  Santiago began to whisper mad prayers. But Hudson finally had a good view of one of the screens which so fascinated the technicians. On it was a 3D model of a man. At its neck, flashing away, was a green light.

  Hudson had seen enough. “OK. Up, Santiago!”

  Santiago flashed the signal, and they began to rise again, escaping in jerks, back up finally towards the roof. Hudson reached inside his rags and took out a pencil and paper. He scribbled a note. When they reached the dome, runners would have to take the news to the Primo and the authorities as soon as possible. When he finished scribbling, he thrust the note at Santiago, but as he moved, he felt his glasses begin to slip down his nose …

  No! He snatched his hand up to catch them before they fell – and caught them, just.

  But, unbalanced, he spun, once, a full 360 turn at the end of the rope. It was a small movement in the Great Cavern, and they were so nearly out of the light. But not quite.

  “ALARRRRRM!” screamed a voice from below.

  Suddenly, there were a hundred eyes on them, and yells, and rifles loading.

  “Shoot them down!”

  DRTRTRRDT!

  Bullets whistled past them. The Carriers in the dome hauled as fast as they could. But not fast enough. Bullets tore through the ropes.

  In a hunter’s instant, Santiago flipped the bow from his back and whipped an arrow from his rags, piercing Hudson’s scribbled note. As the pair began to fall, he drew back his arm and – THWAMM! – fired the arrow directly up the shaft, before – WHAAAAMP! – the two of them landed on the tented cellophane roof of the operating theatre.

  Kaparis cried out in fury.

  “Bum,” said Hudson.

  TWENTY-THREE

  FEBRUARY 22 00:53 (GMT+3). Body of D.A.P. Kaparis

  Dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu …

  Finn leant forward to scoot up the blood vessel, pursuing the distant lights further up the narrow channel, trying to keep steady in the turbulence. He glanced back at Carla’s helmet light bobbing just behind him.

  The channel became wider until they could see arc lights ahead at the end of the tunnel. They had reached the larger artery where the Vitalis was anchored.

  Emerging into its flow, they braked just upstream of the moored submarine. A couple of Tyro crew members were hauling on more cables as Amazon approached the vessel with Nico.

  Finn grabbed Carla’s arm.

  “Let’s try and rescue her in the airlocks, where no one will see,” Finn said. “Then we can tie up whoever’s on board and—”

  “Wait. Look!” interrupted Carla, pointing.

  Finn turned and saw that instead of going towards the airlocks, Amazon was taking Nico up and over the submarine, dragging her off into the darkness of the blood flow beyond.

  “Why are they overshooting? Where’s she taking her?”

  The last they saw was the flash of a blade as Amazon drew a knife.

  “She’s going to kill her!” said Finn.

  As one, Finn and Carla kicked round their scoots and fired themselves down the artery. They shot over the Vitalis and made out two lights dancing in the darkness beyond.

  Dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu …

  “There!”

  They closed in on pure struggle. Amazon swiping wildly with her knife as Nico fought for her life, kicking, clawing, digging her thumbs into any soft flesh.

  Wham! Wham! – Finn and Carla hit them, throwing themselves into the fray, adding to the chaos.

  Amazon screamed in uncomprehending fury as Carla grabbed her from above. Finn tried to grab her knife hand, but she ripped it free again, narrowly missing slicing off his arm. She threw Carla off her helmet and realised it was now three against one.

  Relishing the challenge, she scooted round 360 – WHAM – straight into Nico’s midriff, winding her and sending her flailing out into the flow. Carla flew after her.

  Finn was left to deal with Amazon. She raised her knife and he could see her screaming “DIE!” As she lunged at him, it was his turn to spin 360 – SMACK—

  His scoot hit steel. Amazon’s knife was knocked from her grasp.

  Both dived for it, fighting as they raced to grab the knife that flashed like a fish in the flow, just out of reach in the helter-skelter blood slide that was washing them down the twisting, forking, narrowing arteries, ever further away from the Vitalis.

  Amazon was stronger, but Finn was faster. He grabbed the spinning hilt of the knife and turned back into the struggle just as Amazon tried to whip round to ram him with the scoot – SHTUMP! In the chaos, the blade in Finn’s outstretched hand ended up buried not in the Tyro’s flesh, but in the battery pack on her utility belt – FZZT!

  It flashed as it shorted out, and straight away – schlip, schlip, schlip – fibrous material, short lengths of milky, translucent rope seemed to whip out of nowhere, covering her, strangling her, as she tried to fight back at Finn.

  Antibodies.

  There was no more charge in her suit to keep them away. Finn stopped fighting and struggled to get away as the immune system closed in on Amazon. First the whipping antibodies, then, out of the gloom, white blood cells swooped in like ghosts to surround and suffocate, enveloping her in moments, turning her into a wriggling cocoon.

  Finn watched, horrified – this was no way to go – but before he could do anything, a muffled explosion from within the cocoon called a halt. Amazon’s air tanks had ruptured. The struggle was over. And there was no time for guilt.

  Dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu.

  Where was he?

  Dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu, dhu-dhu.

  He was being swept down a narrow blood vessel. All he could see was darkness at first. He tried to steady himself on the scoot, then – there! Two lights swung out of the gloom, coming towards him, Carla trying to stabilise Nico on her own scoot. He grabbed them as they were sucked into a smaller blood vessel, which was immediately blocked by the great snowball sarcophagus clot of white cells and platelets that had formed around Amazon.

  They found themselves trapped against it, gasping.

  “The whites!” said Nico, as more flapping whites rushed to join the others.

  “It’s OK,” said Finn, pointing back at the clot. “They’re coming for the dead Tyro. She lost her battery.”

  “No! We must get away! Get out!” said Nico.

  Finn and Carla followed doctor’s orders and jammed their scoots into action, each grabbing Nico by an arm to haul her back up along the artery, but they ran straight into a blizzard of white cells and platelets.

  “Where are they coming from? Where are all the reds?” asked Carla, as more and more flocked out of the gloom.

  Scooooghghghghg – Finn heard the strange sound and looked down. “What’s happening?” The grill intake of his scoot seemed to have sucked in dough-like white cells and jammed. He tried to claw them clear as – scooooghghghghg – Carla’s scoot jammed too.

  Visibility was down to just a couple of metres.

  “Just swim! Crawl! We’ve got to get out of here!” Nico urged.

  They swam as hard as they could, further and further into the slowing, blinding, thickening snowstorm of white blots.


  “Faster!” gasped Nico.

  “What’s happening?” cried Carla, as the blood became a white, hot porridge.

  “It’s the immune system! It’s gone into overdrive!”

  FEBRUARY 22 01:21 (GMT+3). Lubecki Salt Mine, Romania

  The nearest cavern of any size near the airbase in Kluge was in a disused salt mine six miles south of the city.

  Grandma and Li Jun had gone there under police escort. On arrival, they donned hard hats and were lowered into an eerie manmade void ten storeys deep.

  When she reached the centre of the silent cavern, Li Jun asked for the lights to be switched off. Once they were in total darkness, Grandma felt Li Jun take her hand. The utter blackness was hypnotic, and another door opened in Li Jun’s mind.

  “I remember …” she said.

  It was in Siberia, or Switzerland, or the Andes … The secret bases had blended into one, but wherever it was, she was present at a long, late meeting between the Master and the crazed architect of his top-secret HQ, Thömson-Lavoisiér.

  The plans for the conversion of a Great Cavern were discussed, and as the details started to come back to Li Jun, she rapidly sketched the basic layout – the henge, the control plant, the command chamber; everything she could remember.

  The sketches were zapped straight back to King and Al, and although they were too late to help Hudson, they at least gave the authorities a sense of the size of the task they faced if they were going to attack.

  When Li Jun had finished, Grandma was pleased. It had been a successful trip and Al would be pleased his lateral-thinking approach had again borne fruit. She asked for the lights to be turned back up. But then Li Jun stopped her.

  “No! There’s something else, Grandmother …” she said, squinting back through time. She wasn’t done yet.

  She saw her recumbent Master. She saw his Scots architect describing his plans, spit flecking his thick beard. She saw Heywood serve them whiskey. She heard them talk about the building and about other things too.

  “What things?” asked Grandma.

  “About the Master’s wife. She was called Ondine …”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  FEBRUARY 22 02:59 (GMT+3). Body of D.A.P. Kaparis

  Finn, Carla and Nico were stuck. Exhausted. Sweat poured off them.

  The white cells had congealed into such a thick, hot custard that they were being cooked with every forward stroke. Soon they ceased to be swimmers and became miners as they were dragged further and further down into the mass of cells.

  They couldn’t possibly keep it up, they’d die of exhaustion. Nico stopped them first.

  “Don’t give up – we’ve got to reach the edge. But just stop a moment. Rest …”

  “The edge of what? What’s happening?” asked Carla.

  “It’s an inflammatory response. The immune system. It can’t identify what it’s being attacked by, so it’s going into overdrive to isolate the dead Tyro. It’s cutting off the whole area. Crushing it and cooking it. Sending in these cells to die and set like concrete. Forming an abscess.”

  “How far away are we from the edge of it?” Finn demanded.

  “Depends … If the body thinks it’s a blood infection, it will bury us deep,” said Nico.

  “What can we do?” asked Finn.

  Nico, sweating in her helmet, looked empty of energy and ideas.

  “If we can reach the outer edge, we could burst it,” she said.

  “Burst it?”

  “Just like a balloon,” said Nico. She thought again of her children, of them playing. There was no way she was going to take this lying down.

  “C’mon, kids. Let’s dig!” she said.

  They began to dig, like moles, like ancient miners buried alive, dragging themselves through the hardening clay, the walls pressing in on them, harder and harder, the heat boiling them in their suits, their air tanks dragging them back, away from life.

  Finn tried not to think about the crush, the claustrophobia. As long as he kept moving, as long as his limbs felt they were propelling him forward, he could keep it at bay. But over the next ten, twenty minutes, the digging became useless, the abscess harder, hotter. And soon the three of them were straining for nothing, stuck fast and pressed together, in their own hell.

  “This is no good. We can’t go any further …” admitted Nico. Then, “Wait, what about your flares?” she said, suddenly hopeful.

  The radioactive flares! One of those would get them out. It would also see them removed – resized – and then … killed in front of Kaparis.

  But anything was better than this.

  “Mine was taken away,” added Nico.

  Finn checked his belt. Nothing.

  And Carla checked hers.

  Nothing.

  “I guess the Tyro crew don’t get issued any flares,” concluded Finn.

  For a long while none of them spoke.

  FEBRUARY 22 03:43 (GMT+3). Carpathian Mountains, Romania-Ukraine border

  Movement!

  Henri crept from his hole.

  Since the comms link to the Carriers had gone down, all watchers had been on high alert. Was the fault technical, or was it more sinister? If it was technical, surely they’d send Santiago across the valley?

  Just then, he saw a figure tacking up through the trees on the winding hunter’s trail. But this wasn’t Santiago. This creature didn’t lollop and bound like an animal. This thing was smaller and darted forward in fits and starts. Faltering.

  When it stopped altogether, Henri drew his machine pistol and slid expertly down the slope. He ended up standing over a small injured ragged girl.

  “Angel …” Olga breathed, and held out a note to him, her hand shaking.

  FEBRUARY 22 03:47 (GMT+3). Great Cavern, Monastery of Mount St Demetrius of Thessaloniki

  Kaparis was exhausted too. Sweating. The hours of pain, the overkill of sensation was taking its toll.

  The Big Swiss Cheese repeated a test he’d been trying for the last hour. He placed a soft ball in Kaparis’s right hand. “Once again. Try and squeeze the ball, sir.”

  The ball trembled in Kaparis’s hand. His blood pressure climbed.

  “You can do it, Master,” said Heywood in an anxious whisper.

  Then the ball simply rolled off his open palm and hit the floor.

  “ARRGGHH!” Kaparis roared in frustration.

  He had been warned he might require years of physiotherapy and rehabilitation, but he had dismissed these concerns out of hand. He was a man of will and of science.

  Across the operating theatre, Hudson and Santiago hung from the arms of the Siguri, heads beaten and bowed. Again and again, the questions had been the same: “Who was in the shaft with you? Who sent you? What were you doing?” And again and again, Santiago wailed and Hudson said nothing.

  Kaparis felt hot. Outraged that the G&T had got so close – with an idiot bespectacled schoolboy (Hudson instantly recognisable after months under surveillance). There must be a whole conspiracy against him. He would root out and destroy every last bit of it. He would lay waste to every Carrier – then flee.

  But not yet. Not when he was so close.

  Hot, hot, hot. He couldn’t think straight. He wanted to close his eyes and, at the same time, he wanted no part of such weakness. He roused himself and made Hudson and Santiago his most heartfelt pledge.

  “As soon as I can move these hands, you will be the first I destroy. I’ve killed Infinity Drake and I’ll kill you and that ghastly hunchback too!”

  Hudson felt his heart jump. Was this true? Was this a taunt?

  “Doctor?” said one of the Big Swiss Cheese’s nurses, trying to get his attention. “Look!”

  The nurse pointed to Kaparis’s neck. The soft flesh beneath his chin had begun to swell.

  Kaparis was so hot, he decided to close his eyes, just for a little while …

  Just then, a message came through from the Vitalis.

  -.-. .-. . .-- / -- .. … … .. -. --. / -- --- – ..
…- . / ..- -. -.- -. --- .-- -. / …- .. – .- .-.. .. … / – --- / .. -. …- . … – .. --. .- – .

  “Crew missing … Motive unknown … Vitalis to investigate …”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked a puzzled technician as the surgical team went to work to bring Kaparis round.

  Finn … thought Hudson, and felt himself relax again.

  The three of them could hardly move now, helmets pressed together in the burning hell of it.

  “We must keep going,” Nico told them, but reality was setting in as hard as the abscess they were trapped in. They were giving up.

  Finn felt bleak, crushed.

  They said nothing, nor did they try and move. Finn could see the air regulator readout projected against the inside of his helmet: 47% LCA19 REMAINING. APPROX. 125 MINUTES.

  Three hours. Three and a half.

  He had come all this way, Finn thought, all the way across the top of the world, to fulfil an unwanted destiny, to kill the giant …

  Now the giant was killing him.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  FEBRUARY 22 04:00 (GMT+3). C-130 Hercules, G&T Romanian Command, National Air Defence Base, Kluge

  “She was his second wife and her name was Ondine. She was a South American beauty and an evolutionary biologist. They met at a genetics conference in Chile, where he no doubt spotted her as a perfect fit for his theory of superorganisms20, one of his chosen few.”

  Grandma was back in the Hercules nursing a mug of tea and telling a love story.

  “They were the perfect couple, fabulously rich, hugely intelligent; she as poisonous and hurtful and wilfully cruel as he. They could have had anything their hearts desired. Yet, they wanted more.”

  Because they knew so little about Kaparis’s marriage, and because they were so tired, Al and Commander King were hanging on every word, as was Delta, and the world leaders, up on the screens.