by Andy Briggs
“I knew it! I remember this! Yes!”
Lot silently nodded towards the door. She couldn’t get past Dev to leave, and he wasn’t moving.
“We don’t think they were Helix,” Dev said. “We think they were pretending to be. Who else would be after you?”
Tyker’s gaze rose to the ceiling as he searched for answers. He huffed and threw his hands up. “I do not know. You are after these devices. I can only assume Helix is after them too. But anybody else…” He shook his head, then stopped as if a thought had occurred to him.
Dev leaned across the table. “I have to ask you, have you seen me before? I mean, before yesterday?” Tyker shook his head. “Try to remember.”
“No. I’m sure I would remember the boy who could not die.”
Lot nudged Dev. “Come on, move. Let’s go.”
Dev didn’t move. He felt his blood run cold. “What did you just call me?”
Klaus blinked thoughtfully. “I don’t know… It just … seemed to fit.”
Now it was Lot’s turn to be curious. “So you have seen him before? Otherwise why would you call him that?” She looked Dev up and down. “Although to be honest I think it’s a pretty inaccurate nickname. More like the boy who keeps almost dying, if it wasn't for his awesome friends.”
Tyker’s face scrunched as he tried to recall. Eventually he shook his head. “I am sorry. Nothing. Please, do not take it seriously. I say all kinds of peculiar things.”
Dev didn’t want to leave, but wasn’t sure what else there was to say. He slid along the bench – then the motorhome suddenly went dark as if the windows had been covered. Tyker flicked on the interior lights as Dev hurried to the window, cupping his hands around his eyes to peer out. It was as black as midnight outside, with just the vague hints of the trees.
“I can’t see anything! It’s as if somebody has turned off the sun.”
“Aliens!” Tyker declared, leaping from his seat. “They wish to abduct me again. Erase my mind!” He ran for the driver’s seat and attempted to start the engine. It just clicked uselessly.
Lot peered out of the window. “There’s no such thing as aliens.”
Tyker stamped the accelerator then tried the engine again. “Oh no? They have space stations in orbit around our planet. Have had for decades. They’re here, I tell you!”
Dev cupped a hand over his earpiece. “Mason, what’s going on out there?” Nothing. Not even the crunch of static. “Riya? Aaron? Wan-Soo? Come on, you lot, stop messing about.”
Still no reply.
The motorhome began to shake with such ferocity that loose items toppled to the floor. It bounced on its suspension as if a giant hand was gripping it in its palm, and with it a fierce light flooded in through the windows. It was a radiant light from above.
Tyker thumped the steering wheel. “Trapped!”
Lot ran to another window, shielding her eyes from the light to try and get a better look at what was making the motorhome shudder ever more violently. “I can’t see what it is!”
“I told you. Aliens!” Tyker desperately turned the key again, but to no avail. “I don’t want to be probed!”
A thump from the roof made them all look up. Something was moving up there. Dev reached over Tyker’s shoulder and groped for the metal around the ignition key. A quick pulse of his gift and the engine sputtered to life.
Tyker looked at him in astonishment. “How—?”
“Drive!”
Tyker stomped on the accelerator and the motorhome lurched forward. Whatever was on the roof bounced off. Tyker gripped the wheel with sweaty palms. The headlights failed to illuminate the path ahead, as if the darkness was absorbing the light.
The vehicle pitched into the air as they went over the edge of a shallow ditch – sending Lot and Dev sprawling to the back of the cabin, banging their heads against the cluttered furnishings.
Then Tyker steered through the edge of the darkness, which peeled away like a curtain, and they were suddenly back in daylight. Dev picked himself up and pressed his hands against the dirty rear window.
Behind, he could see a huge bubble of darkness sat in the clearing like a giant black ink drop that was still rippling from their exit point. Now Dev understood.
“It’s a Dark-Bomb!” He had accidentally activated a Dark-Bomb grenade when he was younger, sending a whole corridor in the Inventory pitch black for an entire week. Designed to replace smoke-grenades for crowd control, it was eventually decided that they would be too much trouble in the wrong hands.
A second later a helicopter burst through the dark bubble. This was a huge beast, with two rotors mounted at the front and an even larger one at the back. Again, Dev recognized it from the Inventory. The Sky-Scorpion had a huge metallic claw dangling from its undercarriage, designed to pick up vehicles like the motorhome.
“Somebody is very keen to get to you, Tyker!” shouted Dev.
Tyker gritted his teeth, daring to take his eyes off the rutted track ahead to glance in the wing mirror. The Sky-Scorpion seemed to fill the space behind. “Look under my seat!” he yelled to Lot.
Barely able to keep her balance as they jounced ever faster, Lot braced herself against the table and reached under the seat. She gagged when a half-eaten burger, now covered in a fine layer of white mould, slid out – followed by a small, heavy wooden box. She partially unhinged the box to see the Antikythera Mechanism inside.
Gunfire from a machine gun in the Sky-Scorpion’s nose shredded the corner of the motorhome like tinfoil. The rear window Dev had been standing at imploded, showering him with safety glass.
“I don’t think it’s the museum!” he said, crawling on all fours towards Lot and Tyker. “Shadow Helix must really want those gadgets.”
“All this for a Sonic-Whistle?” said Lot, shaking her head. “What about that wormhole gadget to get us out of here?”
“I did not have a chance to recharge it. It takes three days!”
“Three days? That’s stupid.”
“Don’t blame me! I did not invent it!
More gunfire strafed the side of the vehicle, puncturing a neat line of bullet holes just above their heads.
“Hold on!” Tyker yelled.
They felt the motorhome accelerate as he struck a mound of dirt. The entire vehicle was launched in the air – filling the cabin with a miasma of dirt, junk-food wrappers and dirty socks as it soared through the air – then landed hard on smooth, black asphalt. The suspension creaked agonizingly as they bounced, but Tyker skilfully wrestled the wheel and prevented them from tipping over.
Now on a real road, the souped-up engine paced them forwards. The downside was that the road was straight, with nowhere to turn off. The chopper easily gained on them, hovering overhead and effortlessly matching their speed.
Tyker peeked over his shoulder. “Anything you may have to help out, don’t let me stop you.”
Dev and Lot looked at their non-lethal weapons, then at each other. There was nothing that could bring down an enormous helicopter. Through the motorhome’s dirty skylight they could see the mechanical claw pivot around and descend towards them.
“Swerve!” said Dev as he lunged for the steering wheel, yanking it down.
The motorhome responded by violently screeching into the opposite lane. The movement was so severe that Lot was thrown against the wall and the probing metal claw mashed into the side of the vehicle right next to her head, crumping another section of the roof away.
“They’re going to tear this thing apart!” she shouted, picking herself up and slipping into the passenger seat next to Tyker. “Don’t you have any cool stuff, like missiles? Smoke machine? Anything?”
Tyker looked at her. “This is my home, not a secret agent’s toy!”
“Watch out!” screamed Dev – but his warning came too late.
Through the fresh gaps in the roof he saw the giant metal claw snatch down again. It crumpled through the wafer-thin walls with ease. With a hiss of hydraulics, the claw
snapped together, gripping the vehicle’s solid chassis in the middle and lifted it in the air!
Everybody screamed as the road vanished beneath them and was replaced by trees as the Sky-Scorpion banked around. With no friction on the ground, the wheels spun even faster, the engine over-revving as if it was about to explode.
Lot instinctively reached for her seat belt and click it in place. Tyker stopped screaming and a dream-like look filled his face.
“I told you it was aliens.”
They followed his gaze – and saw the Avrocar soaring out of the forest ahead of them. The sight of the flying saucer seemed to make Tyker almost catatonic. “They will erase my mind.”
“If you’re lucky,” muttered Dev. The sight of the Avro buoyed his spirits, and the sound of Mason suddenly coming through his earpiece filled him with hope.
“Lot, Dev – you hear me?”
“Mason! Loud and clear! You’ve got to get us off this thing.”
“I’ll come closer. Riya’ll open the roof hatch and you guys jump across.”
Dev didn’t like that plan, but he didn’t have anything better. He patted Tyker on the shoulder. “Gather everything you need. We’re leaving.”
“What? How?”
The Avro swooped closer to them like a Frisbee. As it neared, the Sky-Scorpion’s gun blazed to life. Bullets pinged from the saucer’s surface, forcing it to sharply bank aside.
Mason tried to move closer in again, but each time the gun targeted the craft and unleashed a volley of high-calibre ammunition. It didn’t have to shoot the Avro down, just keep it away long enough for Helix reinforcements to arrive.
Mason sounded desperate when he came back over the radio. “Guys, I can’t get close. I don’t know what to do.”
Lot wound down the passenger window and peered at the forest below. “We might have to jump.”
Dev shook his head. “We don’t have any parachutes. No anti-grav, no PhantomSuits. How could we survive that?” He had an acute fear of heights – ironic, as almost all of his adventures had somehow managed to lead him into the air. He vowed once again that if they survived this, he would never go any place high again.
Lot met his gaze. There was no defeat there, just the infectious smile that Dev realized he couldn’t help but find cute. Even when they were about to die. “No. But we have you.” She pointed upwards. “And that’s just one big machine. With three very big rotors…”
Dev had been around countless items of highly-engineered technology, so he had picked up a few things over the years, including the rough physics that made the world work around him … and kept helicopters in the air. He nodded, then nudged Tyker.
“Follow her lead. This is our stop.”
Dev edged back into the main cabin. The rush of wind was pulling the already weakened walls off the chassis and most of Tyker’s possessions were tumbling to the forest below.
Dev crawled to the metal claw that straddled the floor of the motorhome, and didn’t look either side. With a crunch, the left-hand section of the wall finally tore away in the breeze, and with it most of the computers. Still, Dev kept his gaze firmly on the claw.
His palms were damp as he gripped the claw, fingers finding a sheaf of wires connected to the hydraulics. He closed his eyes. “Get ready!”
His synaesthesia flickered vivid colours before his eyes, which was a pleasant diversion from the deadly drop either side. Using his gift, he navigated through the claw’s controls and into the Sky-Scorpion’s main computer system. From there he was able to hop on to the complex circuitry that coordinated the engines. Once there it was a simple task to power the engines down, just as he’d done with the motorhome.
The deafening roar of the three huge turbines suddenly dissipated with a pathetic whine – leaving just the rhythmic, and slowing, thump of rotors. Without power, and carrying the motorhome, the Sky-Scorpion began to rapidly lose altitude.
Dev could imagine the pilot above him wrestling the controls and desperately trying to restart the engines, but he had ensured the circuits were locked out. All they could do was enjoy the rapid ride to the forest below.
But they didn’t drop like a rock; instead the airflow through the rotors forced them to keep turning – a phenomenon called autorotation – which enabled the chopper to glide steadily downwards.
As the trees drew nearer, Lot unfastened her seat belt and clutched the wooden box. Tyker followed her to the open edge of the motorhome.
Her eyes didn’t leave the treetops. “Jump clear as soon as we can, or that’s going to land on us and crush us.”
The ground drew inexorably nearer, and the tops of the tallest pines slapped against the motorhome’s belly. Nobody needed to be reminded to hold on tight.
Then, with a noise reminiscent of hailstones, the motorhome dipped into the trees, branches smashing every surface. Tyker, Lot and Dev crouched low, their arms protecting their faces – which was just as well, as each branch felt like a whip on bare skin.
A huge crunch resonated through the vehicle as the chopper above them struck the tree canopy. Then a mighty tree found its way between the claw mechanism and the chopper. With a deafening squeal of metal, the motorhome spun around as the claw’s arm was severed from the Sky-Scorpion.
With no helicopter supporting it, the motorhome plummeted to the ground before anybody could jump off. Dev closed his eyes as they bounced like a pinball from one tree to another, the slender trunks torn apart by the vehicle. Then they hit the ground so hard the tyres exploded and shock absorbers punctured their way through the floor and into the destroyed cabin.
There was a second of calm … before the driver’s airbag deployed with a bang.
Above, the Sky-Scorpion sharply banked to one side and the rotors sawed through branches. Then they lost sight of it behind the trees – but a huge explosion, followed by a thick column of black smoke, told them of its fate.
Lot clambered to her feet. She was breathing heavily, and there was a glimmer of adrenaline-fuelled excitement across her face.
“Who’s boring now?” she bellowed.
Dev brushed pine needles, broken branches and parts of the motorhome off him. Tyker didn’t stand; his gaze was fixed to the sky, and the flying saucer hovering over them. It was all too much for him, and with a grunt his head lolled to one side and he fell unconscious.
The sound of the storm against the window kept waking Lee despite his fatigue. He had been on-board the oil rig most of the day as his team attempted to isolate the signal from the Teslator. Despite the brainpower in the room, it had been surprisingly difficult to reverse-engineer the old technology in order to make it talk to the new computer systems.
Then, before they could finally activate it through the satellite system, a tropical storm had swept in across the Atlantic and battered the oil rig with howling winds and driving rain. Work on the deck had to be stopped and all communications were halted.
Lee looked around uneasily as the room shuddered under the relentless seventy-mile-per-hour winds. He was feeling increasingly anxious with yet another delay to report to his new superiors at the CMA.
At first, his plans had galloped ahead when his team finally tracked down Klaus Tyker, identifying him as a man with particular knowledge regarding Black Knight. He may be witless now, but locked in his memory was knowledge that led him to the Antikythera Mechanism. Lee had no idea what the ancient device was needed for, but he was certain he’d find out soon. However, his team had now twice failed to retrieve both Tyker and the Mechanism, and both were in the hands of the World Consortium.
“Epic fail,” Lee whispered to himself.
On the surface, his new masters were not as ruthless as the Collector had been, but their calm, passive-aggressive attitude unnerved him all the same, and he had little doubt failure had lethal consequences.
By morning, Lee had slept a few scant hours, and no amount of coffee could spark him. But at least the storm had passed, leaving leaden clouds in its wake. The technic
ians were all similarly feeling rather green after last night’s scare, resulting in a heavy silence in the communication room as they prepared to connect the Teslator to their satellite system.
The correct frequency was chosen, and the signal was relayed. Moments later they were rewarded with a constant pulse in reply. This time the tone sounded more bass-heavy than when Lee first heard it, as it was now piped through the room’s speakers, rather than the tinny one on the device. Lee couldn’t help but smile at the look of awe on the faces around him.
“That’s Black Knight?” asked Dougal in hushed tones.
“Yes. Even after all these years, it’s still speaking to anybody able to listen, constantly broadcasting this guiding tone so we can lock on to its location.”
Fletch was already typing on his keyboard, and a stream of alphanumeric data rolled over his screen. “Got it.”
Everybody gathered around the screen to try and make sense of the information, talking over one another.
Hugo edged closer to the speaker and closed his eyes. Then he held up his hand and loudly shushed everybody. Once again silence fell, save for the hypnotically rhythmic pulse.
“This is not just a simple, single pulse. There’s something more here. I can hear harmonics.” He rolled across to a spare computer.
Lee looked at the others for an explanation, but they looked equally confused. “Harmonics? As in music?”
“No,” Hugo replied, at a loss as to how to explain it. He opened a computer program. “As in harmonics… You know, complementary sounds. See?”
He indicated to his monitor, where they could now see the pulse represented as a wave, like a graphic equalizer.
Lee shook his head. “And what am I supposed to be seeing?”
Hugo moved his mouse, and the on-screen wave rotated in three dimensions, peeling away to reveal six other layers of pulsing sounds all overlapping one another.
“These are all separate signals coming from Black Knight.”
Lee leaned closer to the monitor and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “And what do they do exactly?”