Chapter 18
Having had practically no sleep the night before, Matt had been functioning on adrenaline. Aunt Jane was the same, judging by how easily he managed to persuade her that he was going with Robin.
By the time Smith’s limousine got the two of them to RAF Cosworth, Matt could barely keep his eyes open. He was asleep almost as soon as the huge transport plane was in the sky. And despite the discomfort of flying in the back of a military aircraft designed to move soldiers and their equipment, he didn’t wake until Robin gently nudged his arm and told him they had to disembark.
Word had come back quickly from Smith’s enquiries, and, as they suspected, the curator of the local museum in Pont St Jean was pleased to report that a recent excavation had provided his establishment with some interesting old documents and relics. There wasn’t a metal disc among them, but now it was mentioned the Englishman had taken some things away to be dated by the British Museum. He was fairly sure there had been such a disc among those artefacts.
‘Typical Arnie,’ Robin had remarked. ‘Not content with finding one hoard of treasure he has to go and find himself another one as well.’
‘You think the Valdeholm stuff was genuine?’ Matt had asked.
‘Oh yes. He just added the fake disc to it.’ She shook her head in renewed disbelief. ‘He’s so brilliant, but so daft. How’s he manage that?’
‘Perhaps it’s hereditary,’ Matt joked, coaxing a smile from her.
Now, refreshed but anxious, Matt watched the helicopter that had brought them on their final stage of the journey turning in the sky and heading back towards Rio. Leaving him and Robin standing in a small clearing in the rain forest, far from the Waterfall Pyramid but as close as they could get without fear of being detected. Alone.
‘So what’s the plan?’ he asked. ‘Your mate Mr Smith said we just have to make sure Harper doesn’t do anything till his people get here. Whenever that is.’
‘It won’t be long,’ Robin reassured him.
‘Good.’ Matt slapped at his neck where he could feel something crawling over his skin. Or was it his imagination? Probably sweat, he decided – it was so hot and humid. Away in the distance, poking up from the canopy of the forest, they could see the blunted shape of the mountain where Harper’s pyramid was. ‘That way, I guess.’
They walked for hours, keeping to the shade. It wasn’t difficult as the tops of the trees formed an almost unbroken canopy. The disadvantage was that this canopy trapped the heat so that the air was warm and humid and clammy. They each had a small backpack with water and some food. Robin also had a torch. The closer they got to the mountain, the less they could see of it. Eventually only the flattened top was visible above the tall trees that surrounded them. They forced their way through the dense vegetation – pushing aside creepers and stepping over the rotting remains of fallen trees and branches. The ground was soft and seemed to sap the strength from Matt’s feet as he walked. The air was so damp it seemed to cling to his skin. The whole place smelled like a hot, dank greenhouse.
They talked hardly at all. In fact, they had barely spoken except when they had to since Robin had explained about the discs and what Harper was up to. At last Matt summoned up the courage to ask if they could stop for another break. He gulped thirstily from his water bottle.
‘You don’t need permission. You don’t have to act like I’m a grown-up and you’re a child,’ Robin told him sternly.
‘I’m not,’ Matt protested.
‘Course not.’
‘Anyway, listen to you – telling me how to behave suddenly.’
‘I’ve always done that,’ she said, looking away. When she looked back at him, her face was set and stern. ‘Look, I know you’re not happy, but there’s nothing I can do.’
‘I’m not asking you to.’
‘It’s still me, you know. Nothing’s changed. Except your perceptions, all right?’ She checked her compass, avoiding his stare.
Matt shrugged. ‘If you say so.’
‘I’m still Robin. Still the same …girl you met a few days ago.’ She tilted her head to one side. Her hair was tied back in a pony tail which swung behind her head. ‘Nothing’s changed.’ She hesitated a moment, then added: ‘We’re still friends, you know.’
‘Are we?’
‘Aren’t we?’
‘I guess,’ he admitted.
She punched him gently on the shoulder. ‘Good. Come on then. Friends.’
‘Friends,’ he agreed. And just saying it made him feel better than he had all day.
‘One thing,’ she called back over her shoulder as she forced her way through the forest. ‘Just friends, all right? Don’t get to like me too much.’
‘As if,’ he muttered.
• • •
Smith had given Robin a satellite photograph of the area. Matt was surprised at how detailed it was, how close-up. It looked like it had been taken from a low-flying plane not from space. It showed the mountain, and from above you could see that the top was hollow, covered with a mesh of vegetation but with water glinting beneath. The waterfall was a white smudge on the side of the mountain. Further round, a small dark area had been circled in white. According to Smith it had taken a trained expert with a magnifying glass to spot it on an even sharper and closer printout than he was allowed to give them.
They hoped it was where the underground river that ran through the theatre emerged from beneath the mountain. A pale line, as thin as a hair, could – just possibly – be the river itself weaving through the forest in its meandering path to join the lake under the waterfall.
As they got closer, they could hear the crash of the waterfall. Then, suddenly, there was the river. They broke through a mass of creepers and branches hanging low in front of them, and found themselves standing on the bank. Or rather, thirty feet above the river which roared past them in the gorge below. Even so, the sound of it was almost drowned out by the massive waterfall further round the mountain. Matt could see the spray from it like a haze against the bright blue sky. As blue, he thought, as Robin’s eyes.
‘Look.’ She had to shout above the sound of the water. Robin was pointing along the river. ‘See where it comes out.’
Matt looked where she was pointing, and saw the small dark shape of the opening into the mountain. Was there a way in? Did the ledge below continue all the way along the side of the river and into the mountain? It was hard to see from so far away.
‘How do we get there?’ he shouted back. ‘We can’t swim against the current.’
‘We need to get closer and find a way to climb down.’
They made their way carefully along the top of the gorge, keeping back from the edge as far as they dared. Too far and the river was lost to sight behind the vegetation and they might be heading away from it and never know. But too close, and they risked losing their footing on the slippery ground and plummeting into the gorge.
After what seemed like hours, they arrived at the side of the mountain. It thrust up out of the jungle, like some gigantic tree. The steep slope was encrusted with creepers and branches and roots and leaves. Thirty feet below them, Matt and Robin could see the dark opening with the white water crashing out.
‘Let’s hope it’s the right river,’ Matt said.
‘Let’s hope we can get down there,’ Robin said.
‘And how do we do that? Climb?’
‘Not a bad idea,’ she told him. She swung her pack off her back and started examining the creepers. ‘We need a strong one that runs all the way down. Then we can abseil.’
‘Oh, we can abseil, can we?’
‘You can abseil?’
‘Well I’ve never tried, so we’ll find out.’
Robin took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know what they teach kids these days,’ she said.
The most promising of the creepers looked dangerously thin and suspiciously fragile to Matt. But Robin assured him it would do the job, and he assured her that he was not a wimp and would follow her do
wn.
‘Just don’t fall on top of me,’ she said. She swung herself expertly out from the side, holding the creeper between her hands and with her feet planted flat against the almost sheer side of the cliff.
‘Aren’t you supposed to have a safety line or something, then just slide down?’ Matt asked.
‘And you brought a safety line with you?’
‘Well, no.’
‘Then we’ll have to do it my way, won’t we.’
‘You’re enjoying this,’ he accused her. ‘You’re actually having fun.’
‘Something to do,’ she replied casually. ‘Here goes.’
She made it look incredibly easy. Like walking down the cliff face, holding on to the creeper like a rope as she lowered herself hand over hand, one step down the vertical side after another. All too soon she had reached the ledge beside the river, and it was Matt’s turn.
‘Coming, ready or not,’ he shouted, trying to sound as unconcerned as Robin seemed.
‘Just be careful,’ she told him. ‘It isn’t as easy as it looks.’
‘Now you tell me!’ He was over the edge now – dangling from a slippery creeper, with his feet flailing at the rock face. He tried to place them, as Robin had, solidly against the side. But he only succeeded in pushing himself away, and starting to spin. He could feel the creeper slipping through his hands and tightened his grip.
There was a jolt as he stopped sliding down. Another jolt, as the creeper moved. Matt looked up, and could see the makeshift rope was tearing – strand after strand of slippery green creeper snapping and breaking above him. He loosened his grip and started to slide again, hoping he could stop before he hit the water.
Then the creeper broke.
He slammed down, into the rock ledge, the creeper falling with him – tangling in his feet and dragging him to the brink. Robin had an arm round his waist, trying to pull him upright. But then his feet were whipped from under him, and Matt was falling again. He twisted desperately, arms thrashing as he tried to regain his balance. Falling, he smacked into something, and felt it move.
It was Robin. His shoulder caught her in the stomach and sent her reeling back. To the edge. She stood frozen for a moment, back arced as she tried to heave herself upright again.
Then she was falling backwards over the ledge and towards the raging torrent below.
Matt lashed out. His hand slapped against something – Robin’s hand. She grabbed him, and suddenly he had her entire weight pulling him to the edge too. He managed to brace his feet against the rock, and looked down – into the river, into Robin’s face as she looked back up at him. She was hanging from his hand, over the sheer drop to the water below. Matt’s hand was still slick from the creeper, and he could feel her slipping away. Falling. Her backpack slipped from her shoulder, crashing into the river below – ripped to shreds. Matt saw the torch explode into pieces as it hit a jagged rock poking up from the swirling torrent of water.
Without the weight and awkwardness of the backpack, Robin managed to hold on. Somehow, Matt managed to drag her back up towards the ledge. When she was close enough, she reached out with her free hand and clamped it over the edge. She let go of Matt and hauled herself back up.
‘Sorry,’ he said, embarrassed now that she was safe. ‘The creeper…’
‘I saw. Wasn’t your fault. I picked the wrong creeper.’
‘Like we had much choice,’ he told her.
‘Forget it,’ she said. ‘But – you know, thanks.’
‘Pleasure.’
Robin turned to stare into the dark opening, into the tunnel where the water emerged. The ledge they were standing on seemed to continue into the mountain. ‘Shall we?’ she asked, taking Matt’s hand. ‘This is where it really gets dangerous.’
Together they walked into the darkness.
Matt could barely make out Robin’s shape in front of him and he could hardly hear himself think. They walked with their hands on the wall on one side, the river surging noisily but invisibly past on the other, hoping they would not reach the end of the ledge. Or that if they did, they would notice before they fell. When the going was tricky, Robin slowed down – sometimes so much that Matt walked into her and she yelled at him above the noise of the water to be careful, and he yelled at her that he was sorry, and they both yelled at each other: ‘What did you say?’
In several places the ledge was so narrow they had to shuffle along with their backs pressed hard against the damp rock wall. Always the spray and spit of the river was soaking into them. At first, Matt found it invigorating. He liked the sting of the cold water after the close heat of the jungle. It seemed to cleanse and sharpen him. But after a while he was just feeling wet and cold and bedraggled.
‘I wish you hadn’t dropped the torch,’ he shouted to Robin. But he knew she couldn’t hear him above the rage of the river.
Finally, light. A tiny dot in the distance at first, but growing gradually larger with every step they took.
Before long, it was enough to illuminate Robin’s face as she looked back at Matt, her eyes gleaming.
‘Nearly there,’ she mouthed.
The ledge widened slightly where it emerged into the light. They paused, standing together, and peered cautiously into the huge amphitheatre beyond. It seemed even bigger after the cramped, dark confines of the tunnel. Another difference was that it was busy – Matt could see several of Harper’s guards in their distinctive khaki camouflage uniforms erecting more lights and clearing away some of the rubble.
‘Looks like he’s giving up on archaeology,’ Matt said quietly. Outside the echoing tunnel, the river was not so noisy.
‘Looks like he’s getting ready for something,’ Robin agreed. ‘Not good.’
Even with extra lights, the edges of the huge cavern were still in darkness. It was relatively easy to keep to the shadows and work their way carefully up towards the top of the amphitheatre.
‘The way into the pyramid will probably be guarded,’ Matt said quietly.
Robin nodded, a vague silhouette in the gloom. ‘But we’re not going to the pyramid.’
They froze as two of the guards walked past them, just several yards away. Then Robin was moving again, Matt following as quietly and as closely as he could.
There was even more activity in the office area where Matt had found his father. Matt and Robin got as close as they dared, and watched from an area in the shadows behind several fallen pillars. Guards were setting up computers and other equipment. A huge plasma screen, like the ones in the guest rooms and on Harper’s jet, was being installed and connected to the systems.
Robin nudged Matt’s arm, pointing. He had already seen – Dad and Julius Venture were standing a little way back from the main activity, talking.
‘We have to get their attention,’ Matt whispered. ‘We can’t get to them, but they might be able to come closer to us.’
‘What are you going to do? Jump up and down and wave?’
Matt shook his head. ‘I thought I’d bung a rock at them,’ he said.
He found a pebble that wasn’t too big to attract unwanted attention and lobbed it towards where his dad and Venture were standing. He was way off, and the stone bounced on the floor several yards away. It ricocheted back up and landed on one of the tables. Matt could hear it clattering across the table top, and ducked down quickly into the shadows.
‘Good shot,’ Robin told him.
‘You want to try?’
‘OK.’
Robin’s attempt was rather more successful. She skimmed her stone close to the ground, just above the fallen pillars and other debris but low enough to go under the table that Matt’s pebble had hit. It bounced close to her father’s feet before clattering off into the shadows beyond.
Venture looked up immediately. His eyes connected with Robin’s, and he gave the slightest hint of a nod, before turning to talk to one of the guards. Maybe he was apologising for having kicked a stone across the floor. Maybe he was saying he was going f
or a short walk to stretch his legs. Whatever he said, Venture and Matt’s dad were moving.
They looked casual, like they were just wandering, talking quietly together. Venture nodded to one of the guards as they passed.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ another guard shouted as the two men reached almost to the edge of the light.
‘Just getting out of the way,’ Venture called back. ‘If that’s OK?’
‘No further than that,’ the guard warned. He had a gun slung over his shoulder, and he pulled at the strap to make the point.
‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ Venture said pleasantly. He leaned back against a fallen pillar. The fallen pillar that Robin and Matt were crouched behind. ‘Were my notes useful?’ he asked, in the same relaxed tone of voice. But he spoke more quietly now, looking at Matt’s dad, but addressing the question to Robin.
‘They were,’ she replied. ‘Smith’s on his way, but it’ll take him a while to get people ready. He called it “getting his ducks in a row”.’
‘He would,’ Venture said. ‘Sounds impressive, means little.’
‘Can you trust him?’ Matt’s dad asked.
‘To the ends of the earth,’ Venture said. ‘And back again. The question is whether he’ll have his people here in time to stop Harper.’
‘So, what’s going on?’ Matt asked. ‘What are all these people doing down here?’
‘This is the place,’ Venture said. ‘Well, one of many places, originally. This amphitheatre, where we are now, this is where the world model could be realised. Where events could be played out – past, present and future. That’s why Harper is here, though I doubt he realised the significance of its point in the web of ancient sites until long after he found it. But now he is too close to the truth, and he must be stopped.’
‘What do you mean by events being played out?’ Matt asked. ‘You mean, like on a stage with actors and props and stuff?’
‘In a sense,’ Venture told them. ‘Except that the actors and the props and stuff would be elemental. Created – conjured, if you like – out of the earth and the air. They recreate, represent, the real world and through them he can predict and he can manipulate and change … everything. When the model is complete, that is, and the time and space are specified …’ He gave a quiet chuckle. ‘All the stage is a world, if you like.’
The Chaos Code Page 24