Eye of the Storm

by Mark Robson

  ‘And that’s supposed to be the remains of Atlantis?’ Carrie asked. ‘How’s that help us?’

  ‘There’s something about a Bimini Wall here as well,’ he added. ‘But it doesn’t claim they found Atlantis. I’ve not read it all yet. Hang on.’

  ‘From what I remember Dad telling me, there’s people that think the Atlanteans used an unusual form of energy that might have led to their eventual destruction,’ Niamh recalled. ‘Dad said something about a popular clairvoyant in the 1920s who made several predictions and readings about it that have proved spookily accurate. He also said something about energy from crystals, but I don’t remember it clearly enough to see how it fits in with the Bimini stuff.’

  ‘Hmm. I’m guessin’ this cross-reference to someone called Edgar Cayce is what you’re talkin’ about,’ Tony said.

  ‘Cayce, that’s it!’ Niamh exclaimed.

  ‘Interesting. . .’ Tony murmured.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve just flicked through to the bit about him and it seems he talked about the Atlanteans using electromagnetism and some sort of crystal energy source. Hutchison demonstrated takin’ energy from a form of crystalline stone that he claimed would effectively last forever on that YouTube clip. We’ve started going in circles here.’

  Niamh shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I think we’re on to something. I’m not sure exactly what, but something about this feels right. I read a few accounts this morning by those who have seen strange things, and of the last words from pilots before they vanished that mentioned compasses going crazy. A powerful electromagnetic force could cause that.’

  ‘Accordin’ to Hutchison, if the field is strong enough, it can damage metals, make different materials fuse together, cause strange electrical fogs and maybe even affect space and time,’ Tony observed, his tone thoughtful. ‘The notes say that he thought the potential power source could be enormous. If he’s right and the Atlanteans tapped into somethin’ they didn’t understand well enough to control, you could see how they might have suffered a major disaster and wiped themselves out. But if somethin’ from an ancient sunken city is causin’ things and people to vanish, why would it affect such a massive area of ocean? I don’t get it.’

  ‘You’re right, that doesn’t make sense,’ Niamh agreed, frowning. ‘You’d expect it to be much more localised. Unless…’

  ‘Unless?’

  ‘Unless Atlantis was more than just one city,’ she suggested. ‘I mean, don’t the legends talk of Atlantis as a civilisation, rather than just a city? A civilisation wouldn’t live in a single city, would it?’

  They all fell silent as they considered the implications of what Niamh was suggesting. The idea that there might be not one, but any number of sunken cities containing potentially dangerous sources of energy was mind-blowing.

  A glorious waft of cooking pizza reached Niamh and she drew in a deep breath. Her stomach rumbled, but she was determined not to let the temptation of food distract her. They were close to a major breakthrough. She was sure of it.

  A sudden loud knock at the front door made them all jump. They all looked at one another, the unspoken question Who’s that? hanging in the air.

  ‘You’d better get outta sight,’ Carrie suggested in a hushed voice. ‘Get into my room. Hurry!’

  Niamh flitted across the living area towards the bedroom. As she went, she saw a shadow at the window and looked across straight into the eyes of a policeman. It was the same man that had followed her the day the police had taken her father in for questioning. Recognition sparked in his eyes immediately and Niamh froze. Her mind whirled with options. Going to the bedroom was now out of the question. It was a dead-end trap. Should she run out through the back? Was there time?

  ‘It’s her!’ she heard the policeman call. ‘She’s inside. I saw her.’

  She turned and started towards the glass doors to the pool area and then froze again. Another policeman had appeared there as well. The thump, thump, thump at the front door was repeated. It was no good. There was no way out.

  ‘There’s cops all round the house!’ Tony exclaimed. ‘What should I do?’

  ‘There’s nothing you can do,’ Niamh sighed. ‘It’s over. You’d better go and answer the door before they decide to force it open. I’ll have to go with them.’

  ‘No! We can tell them you’re a friend stayin’ with us. . .’ Carrie said.

  ‘The cop at the front window recognised me, Carrie,’ Niamh said, giving her a grateful smile. ‘They’re not going to leave without me. Don’t get into any more trouble on my behalf. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. They’re not going to hurt me.’

  Carrie ran across and threw her arms round Niamh in a dramatic hug. Niamh laughed and hugged her back. She couldn’t imagine Beth being so flamboyant with her emotions. Tony went to the door and answered it.

  ‘Hello, officer. What can I do for you?’

  ‘We’ve come to collect Miss Niamh Cutler,’ he replied. ‘I understand she’s inside.’

  ‘I’m coming,’ Niamh called out. ‘Give me a moment.’

  She gave Carrie one last squeeze and eased free of her embrace. They walked together to the front door. Tony’s expression was one of helplessness.

  ‘Thanks for everything,’ she said to Tony and Carrie. ‘I’ll email you both when I get home.’ She turned to the policeman at the door. ‘I don’t suppose you’d let me stay long enough to eat some of the pizza, would you?’

  He did not look amused. ‘No tricks this time, miss,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You’ve caused a lot of trouble and wasted a lot of police time. Don’t make things worse.’

  ‘Thought not,’ she said, pursing her lips. ‘There is just one quick thing I need to do before we go though.’

  She stepped up to Tony and kissed him. It was not a long kiss, but it was full on the lips. He barely had time to respond before it was over. When she stepped back, she nearly laughed at his mixed expression of surprise and pleasure.

  ‘Until next time,’ she said, and stepped out through the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It was like something out of an Enid Blyton adventure story, Sam decided, peering around the cave – but not as comfortable.

  ‘Cool place!’ Callum announced, sounding excited as he stepped into the cavern, squeezing past Sam. ‘Not as stylish as the HQ, but it has a certain atmosphere.’

  ‘You mean it’s damp, dark and cold,’ Sherri observed, sounding grumpy.

  ‘I was looking at the positives,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘It’s certainly well hidden.’

  ‘With no back door to escape out of if they do find us,’ she replied.

  ‘Do you really think the Imperium are likely to find us here? What sort of tracking abilities do they have?’

  ‘No more than any other raptors, I suppose – just an enhanced sense of smell and a hunter’s instinct,’ she said coldly.

  Callum had no answer to that.

  Just then a ball of light began to glow at the back of the cave and Sam looked over to see Newton busily tinkering with some odd-looking machinery that was emitting the glimmer. Under the gently brightening artificial light, the full extent of the cave became clear. It extended some way back, though the area that was habitable was limited. The stream that had carved out the cavern bubbled through the centre to the front wall of rock, where it dropped into a dark hole with a constant rushing, splashing sound, only to emerge again through the tumble of rocks at the base of the valley about twenty-five metres below. Two sets of flat-topped stepping stones had been carefully placed to form paths across the water.

  Sam estimated the roof of the cave to be about three times his height across most of the width and length of the open space, which meant comfortable headroom even for the raptors. The floor to either side of the stream was by no means flat, with both sides gently sloping down towards the water. However, the lumps and bumps across the floor had been worn smooth, presumably by the running water.

  Acc
ess to the cave was concealed behind a tongue of rock halfway up the valley’s end wall. Getting up to the entrance had involved a tricky climb for the humans. The raptors had made it look easy, but had not wanted to risk carrying the rest of the party up.

  Unlike the main HQ, this place had been furnished with the absolute bare essentials, which apparently did not include any form of beds that Sam could see. He wondered how long it would take Callum to spot that. He would not mind betting that David noticed it before Callum did.

  Rather than heading into the cave with the others, Sam returned to the entrance where Nipper was crouched, keeping watch.

  ‘Any sign of Mum and the others?’ he asked, taking care to pronounce his words clearly.

  Nipper shook his head.

  ‘Sssssam imm,’ the raptor said, pointing inside. He then pointed at himself and at his eyes. Sam understood perfectly.

  ‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’ll go inside while you keep watch for them. Thanks again, Nipper . . . for everything. Let me know when you see them, OK?’

  The raptor bared his pointed teeth in a grin that a few days before would have terrified the life out of him. Now Sam found it reassuring. Nipper had gone out of his way to help Sam and Callum from the first time they had met. Sam was still not sure he understood why, but he felt deeply grateful for the raptor’s unwavering support.

  Feeling better, Sam went back into the cave. To his surprise, he found David and Callum warming themselves by an electric fire and Sherri heating water on what looked like a basic electric hob.

  ‘Look at this, Sam,’ Callum said enthusiastically. ‘Heaters, light and everything! I thought we’d be roasting food over an open fire, but no. According to Nathan, they’ve got their own mini-generator outside concealed among the rocks. It’s one of those magnetic energy converters that we saw from the train on the way to the city, but smaller. You’ve got to hand it to the raptors. Some of their tech is seriously clever.’

  ‘Don’t get too excited,’ Sherri grumbled. ‘There’s not much in the way of food stored here, and I’ve never managed to find a comfortable spot to sleep yet. Does anyone else want a drink?’

  ‘Do you have any coffee?’ David asked.

  ‘What do you think this is? A café? No, we don’t have coffee. I can make you an approximation of tea, though I don’t recommend it personally. Otherwise, it’s hot water or a hot fruit drink, which is slightly more palatable than the tea. I do have some sweetener here if you find it too tart.’

  ‘I’ll try the fruit drink then, please,’ David said.

  Sam opted for hot water, while Callum followed David’s lead. Nathan declined all options, preferring instead to sip something from a hip flask that he had attached to his belt. Although Sam did not know for sure, he felt it a fair bet that whatever was in the flask had a high alcohol content.

  While Sherri was preparing the drinks, Edison and Crick were busy fiddling with another strange piece of technology. They were clicking and growling at each other in a conversation that sounded distinctly argumentative. Sam listened and watched the body language of the two as they bickered like two old women until Newton intervened with a loud grunt that set Nathan choking. He had been in the process of taking a sip from his flask, but whatever Newton had said set him coughing and laughing simultaneously.

  Newton strode over to the piece of technology that the other two raptors had been tinkering with, shoved them out of the way and gave the box an almighty thump with the side of his fist. Something flickered in the air at the back of the cave. He hit it again and the flicker solidified. It was a holographic image similar to the one they had seen in the station. Newton glared at Edison and Crick for a moment, gave another grunt, turned and left them to play with the settings. Even without a translation, Sam found himself grinning. Nathan was reduced to fits of laughter, but Edison and Crick ignored him. Sam did not need to be an expert in raptor body language to know they were not amused.

  ‘It’s hard not to like Newton’s style,’ Callum commented. ‘If in doubt, give it a clout!’

  ‘I know,’ Sam agreed, chuckling. ‘He’s my sort of scientist!’

  ‘Look! It’s the news,’ David said, his eyes fixed on the holographic image. ‘My abduction seems to be the main story,’ he said, sounding pleased. ‘As I suspected, the High Council of the Imperium have condemned it in the strongest terms. They have sworn to exact revenge on those who broke into the Imperium labs.’

  ‘Is the newsreader saying anything about our fight under the city?’ Callum asked.

  ‘No,’ David replied, shaking his head. ‘It’s all about how important my work is and the negative impact of the rebel group on raptor society. The Imperium are painting your group in the darkest possible light.’

  ‘Your group?’ Sam asked. ‘So, after all you’ve seen and heard, you don’t feel ready to join us?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ David admitted, his eyes darting nervously around the cave. He seemed to be looking everywhere and anywhere to avoid making eye contact. ‘I understand what Claire believes, though I’m not totally convinced by her explanation of how the crossing points between worlds are formed or that they’re definitely being caused by the raptor technology. Why does it have to be something in this world that’s causing it? From what I hear of the world you come from, the human population are doing some bad things to their environment. I still think the crossings may be due to something that’s happening there.’

  ‘It’s true that our world isn’t perfect and that humans are having an impact on the weather systems there, but when we crossed, the weather was fine in our world and we arrived in this world into the eye of a hurricane,’ Sam said firmly. ‘Everyone we’ve spoken to who has crossed appears to have arrived under similar circumstances. The evidence of those accounts alone makes it difficult to see another reason for the crossing points. They only seem to form at the eye of powerful storms in this world – not in ours.’

  ‘Nevertheless,’ David said, his defiance unwavering, ‘I’m not ready to believe it yet. Until I can see it for myself, please forgive me for remaining sceptical.’

  ‘So where do they keep your flying machine anyway?’ Callum asked, changing the subject. ‘I’d love to have a go at flying it.’

  ‘Really? Have you flown before?’ David asked, dodging the question.

  ‘I’ve done some gliding.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Sam chuckled, ‘but you should have seen him quaking in his seat when we took off out of Heathrow! Anyone would have thought it was his first time in the air.’

  ‘Well, it was the first time I’d been up in a jet,’ Callum said defensively. ‘There’s a world of difference between flying a glider and flying in something that’s so big and heavy that it’s difficult to see how it can possibly get off the ground. I was surprised at just how nervous it made me to be taking off without a control column to hold on to. Gliding’s brilliant fun. No engines, just long wings and very basic controls. I’d love to go solo, but I’m not allowed until I’m sixteen.’

  ‘Ah, yes! Gliding,’ David said, a spark verging on fanaticism lighting in his eyes. Suddenly, he was more animated than Sam had yet seen him. ‘I’m familiar with the principles. What type of launch system were you using? Bungee? Winch? Aerotow?’

  ‘Most of my flights were winch-launched,’ Callum said. ‘Which is a pretty spectacular way to get into the air. You climb really steeply. I’ve had a couple of aerotows as well. The club at Bicester had a tug, but it was more expensive so Dad didn’t let me do it very often.’

  ‘Fascinating,’ David said. ‘And did you manage to soar your machine?’

  ‘Yeah, quite a few times. The longest I managed to stay up was nearly two hours.’

  ‘Two hours of unpowered flight! Amazing!’

  ‘Sorry, guys,’ Sam interrupted. ‘Winch-launch? Soar? Would you mind filling me in a bit? I lost you somewhere back at the start of this conversation.’

  ‘Because it has no power source of its own, a glider can only fly if
it is launched high enough into the air to make use of the air currents,’ Callum explained. ‘A winch-launch system is probably the most common. The glider is attached to a long cable, the far end of which is connected to a powerful winch. When the glider is ready to get airborne, the winch operator winds the cable on to a huge drum, pulling the glider towards it very quickly. With the speed it gains from being pulled toward the winch, the glider is able to take off and convert the speed into height.’

  Sam thought about that for a moment. ‘But surely the glider will eventually be pulled downward and crash into the winch if it’s attached by a cable,’ he observed.

  Callum laughed. ‘That would ruin your day, wouldn’t it? There’s a release mechanism in the cockpit and a fail-safe release to stop that from happening,’ he explained. ‘When you can’t gain any more height, you release the cable and start looking for rising air currents called thermals. Catch one of those and you can ride it to gain more height – which is called soaring.’

  ‘Really? Rising air currents are strong enough to lift an aircraft?’ Sam asked, amazed.

  ‘More than strong enough if the aircraft design is right,’ David explained. ‘Some updraughts, particularly around storm clouds, can be strong enough to hurl aircraft skyward with such force that they can be torn to pieces. But my latest design is superior to any glider. It makes use of both air currents and the natural magnetic field, allowing you to use both to generate lift and forward speed. So if there’s no rising air, you can fall back on the electromagnetic generators to drive the fan on the back, which will keep you in the air and travelling fast enough that you can climb further if you wish.’

  ‘Clever,’ Callum acknowledged, pursing his lips thoughtfully and nodding. ‘From what I saw, the design looked similar to some of the microlights we have back home, but the engine doesn’t have the same irritating whine.’

  ‘You say your latest design,’ Sam noted. ‘So how many different ones have you built?’

  ‘Just two so far,’ David replied. ‘The first one flew well enough, but it struggled for power with the weight of a raptor underneath it. I had designed it with a human pilot in mind. It was only when we came to the test-flight stage that I discovered the raptor scientists had no intention of letting me pilot my flying machine.’