“A bomb?” she asked, totally confused. “W-why?”
Redeye smiled thinly. “What’s above our heads? I’ll give you a clue, it’s big and white and it keeps the sea out.”
“You’re insane,” Singh said, struggling up. His face was pale and his trousers were soaked with blood. “It’d take an atomic weapon to bring down the Wall.”
“Who says this isn’t one?” Redeye asked. “OK, it isn’t. But what if we don’t want to bring it down? What if we just want to make a hole in it? Like pulling the plug of the world’s biggest bathtub. Maximum mayhem, minimum property damage.”
“So you are trying to take over,” Kara said.
Redeye shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
“And what about the people in the City?” Nate asked. “What happens to them?”
“Some will die in the initial panic,” Redeye admitted. “Some will drown when the waters rise high enough. And some will escape to the Shanties, where… Well, that’d be telling.” He shook his head. “But let’s be honest, they deserve whatever they get. Kara knows what I’m talking about, don’t you? I saw the way you looked at them, back in the City. They disgust you too.”
Kara wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t. She remembered how sick she’d felt witnessing all that wealth and waste, while her own people suffered outside. Would she honestly care if it was all washed away? Then she remembered the other Kara, who’d helped her even though she didn’t need to. She remembered the cabbie – what had he ever done? And she took a step closer.
“You can’t escape,” she said. “Just back away from the bomb and let’s talk.”
“You know I can’t,” Redeye said, raising his palm over the red button. “Cortez didn’t lie: this really is a better world we’re bringing. And besides, I don’t want to.”
He brought his hand down.
Singh fired but his pistol clicked empty.
Kara cried out, waiting for the explosion.
Redeye burst into laughter. “You should see your faces,” he spluttered. “Honestly, Kara, I’m not suicidal. All I did was start the timer. You see? Now I have five minutes to get out of here.”
Numbers ticked down on a digital readout. Redeye jumped to his feet, stepping down from the train carriage and retreating along the tunnel. “I’m afraid I can’t let you follow me this time,” he said, waving his pistol. “Things are in motion, I can’t have you messing them up.”
He reached the back door, turning to the giant steel hatch and pressing his thumb down on the central panel. A light pulsed green, hydraulic pipes hissing as the door swung open.
“Goodbye, MetCo man,” Redeye said. “And you, traitor. And farewell, Kara. You’re truly one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met. I’m sorry it has to end like this.”
“But it doesn’t have to,” Kara pleaded. “You can still switch it off. You told me once that Mariners didn’t kill unless they had to. You said you weren’t monsters.”
Redeye frowned thoughtfully. “Most Mariners aren’t,” he said. “But I think maybe I am.”
And he ducked through the door into the dark.
Kara flung herself forward but the hatch was already closing, sealing with a resounding boom. Locks clicked into place and the panel went dead; she pressed her thumb on it but nothing happened. Who had told it to recognise Redeye’s print? The friend, of course. He seemed to have access to every system in the City. But who had that kind of power? A suspicion was forming, but she couldn’t bring herself to think it.
“It’s no use,” Nate said. “We have to leave.”
“And go where?” Kara asked. “In four minutes this tunnel’s going to explode.”
“If we run we might make it,” Nate insisted. “We might have a chance.”
“And what about Singh?” Kara said in a low voice. “Are we supposed to carry him? We’ll never—”
“Kara,” Singh’s voice echoed from inside the train carriage. “Come here, quickly.”
He had dragged himself up, leaving a trail of blood. Now he was bent over the briefcase, the panel lighting his ashen face. “You won’t believe this,” he said, mopping the sweat from his brow, “but I think I can defuse it. Years ago I worked for the bomb squad; we used to train on devices just like this. I think I can make it stop.”
Kara almost laughed. “But that’s incredible.”
Singh eased the rear panel off the bomb, revealing a nest of wires. “Sometimes you just get lucky. But listen, I can’t focus with you two standing there. Nate’s right, you should run.”
“No,” Kara said. “I won’t leave you. It’s not fair, you—”
“I’m not asking,” Singh said.
“Kara.” She felt Nate’s hand in hers. “Come on. Please.”
She turned, ready to protest. Then she saw his soot-streaked face, so serious and scared. If she died down here, so would he. And then Joe would be left alone.
“It’s OK,” Singh said, looking up. His mouth was tight with pain but his eyes were clear. “I’m right where I need to be. I should thank you, really. After all those years at MetCo, you’ve finally given me the chance to do something meaningful.” He waved them away with one bloody hand. “Now go and save the world.”
23
High Water
When the hatch began to open, the Doorkeepers fell to their knees, wailing in holy terror. Clouds of hydraulic gas gushed into the chamber and Joe shielded his eyes, backing away.
“He comes!” the ragged boy cried, dropping the toy bear. Redeye strode like a spectre from the steam, his long coat billowing around him, his electronic eye gleaming like a laser sight.
Then his gaze fell on Joe, and he blinked in surprise. “Joe? What are you doing here?”
There was a pistol shot and Redeye ducked, cursing and raising his weapon.
“I said you’d regret pulling a gun on me,” Maura called out. “Now put that down and—”
Redeye fired back indiscriminately, peppering the room with pellets. Sinks and toilet bowls exploded, the air filling with ceramic dust. The children scattered, Maura ducked, and Joe snatched Growly and turned to run. But Redeye had hold of his collar, yanking him back.
“Come out or I’ll shoot the boy,” he shouted. Then he laughed. “Would you believe I did almost this exact same dance with the other one, just a few moments ago?”
“You’ve seen Kara?” Joe asked. “She’s alive?”
“Last I looked,” Redeye said, shoving him towards the low wall where Maura was hiding, keeping his pistol pointed at Joe’s head. “Listen, Shore … woman. The clock is literally ticking, so get out here or I’ll kill him. You know I don’t mess around.”
For a moment Joe thought she was going to stay put and seal his fate. But Maura rose resentfully to her feet, tossing her weapon aside. “You can’t escape,” she said. “My boys will be back any moment, and there are many more in the Pavilion waiting for your friend Cortez.”
Redeye growled with frustration. “We really don’t have time for this. OK, you’re both coming with me. Cortez will want the boy, and you can be a bargaining chip if your people try anything.”
He started up into the light, boots grinding on the concrete. But a plaintive voice called “W-wait,” and Redeye turned. The ragged boy stood in a ring of shattered porcelain, his hands clasped beseechingly. “A-aren’t you going to lead us to the special place?”
Redeye frowned. “What’s he talking about?”
Joe looked back regretfully. Yes, the boy had wanted to eat him. But he couldn’t feel bitter – this could’ve been him if things had gone differently. If he’d never met Kara.
“You came through the door,” he explained. “They think you’re a god.”
Redeye snorted. “I’m flattered. But you’ve got the wrong guy.”
And he hurried up into the daylight, the others following. They were almost at the boats when the world exploded.
Kara was shoving Nate up on to the station platform when the air was fil
led with blinding light, and the loudest noise either of them would ever hear. A wave of heat ripped through the tunnel, lifting them like leaves and slamming them against the wall. Kara’s eyes burned and her ears rang but she managed to drag herself up, tugging at Nate’s collar. She heard the rush of water behind them. The ocean was loose in the tunnel.
The cuffs were still hooked to the wall but Kipps had managed to pick them and escape; there was no sign of him now. Stone faces loomed from the shadows and Kara could feel the air itself thrumming as water surged through the station, rattling the walls with the force of its approach. They sprinted past the silent news stand, the light from the doorway leading them on.
“Singh said he could stop it,” Kara gasped as they slammed into the stairwell, heaving the door shut behind them. “He promised.”
“He lied,” Nate said, following her up. “You knew that, right? He didn’t want to slow us down.”
Kara felt her mind roll over. Yes, perhaps a part of her had known. And now a good man was gone.
There was a terrible groan, and looking over the handrail she saw the door tearing from its hinges and tumbling into the dark. A jet of water shot through the opening, the walls buckling on either side. The water roared like an animal, swirling and smashing and swallowing up the stairwell as they ran. Light bulbs popped one by one.
Then they were at the top, tumbling into the passage where the guards lay lifeless. Kara heard shouts in the distance, but they saw no one as they climbed stone steps to an echoing entrance hall lined with gloomy paintings. The walls shuddered violently, arched windows raining showers of coloured glass. A silver suit of armour toppled from its plinth, the sword tip snagging Nate’s shirt as the whole thing clattered in pieces on the flagstone floor.
They emerged into a gravel courtyard dotted with trees. In the far fence a gate stood open and they sprinted towards it. To the left a concrete yard was jammed with black vehicles, desperate figures fleeing the building and piling into them. A van had flipped in the entranceway and a gaggle of smartly dressed people stood arguing over the best way to move it. Kara saw a face she recognised – the minister from the Pavilion screaming at a cowering subordinate. It won’t do any good, Kara thought. They were powerful before, now they’re as helpless as anyone else.
But as they reached the fence she realised she hadn’t seen anyone in MetCo blue; even the sentries had fled. She remembered the chaos in the corridor, the empty offices and the truck loaded with equipment. Almost as if they’d known what was coming.
The tremors subsided, and suddenly all was still. Kara turned in the gateway, taking a long, ragged breath. The Houses of Parliament stood over them, a square-sided mountain of stone in the shadow of the Wall. Were they panicking for nothing? Maybe the water had been dammed somehow; the basement might’ve fallen in or the tunnel itself could have collapsed. Surely no force on Earth could bring down a building so proud and ancient and strong?
Then she saw trickles of black water leaking from the windows. With a pop one of them burst, then another, water gushing out in strengthening floods. All along the ground floor glass began to shatter, jets shooting out like riot cannons. A door ripped from its hinges, cartwheeling into the courtyard on a rolling black tide. Nate grabbed Kara and they ran.
Beyond the fence was a grassy square, groups of onlookers staring in disbelief at the torrent of water flowing from the building. “Which way?” Nate asked.
Kara shook her head. “I came a really long way round.”
He pulled out his tablet. “Joe’s ‘x’ is here, and that’s south. The tunnel’s to the west, so it should be up that way.”
“I thought you failed navigation?”
Nate shrugged. “If I’m wrong, you won’t be mad for long.”
They’d reached the far side of the square when they heard an awful rending creak. Parliament had become a waterfall, black torrents cascading from the windows on the second and third storeys. The clock tower began to list, leaning away from the shuddering building like the mast of a storm-driven ship. The bells of Big Bill chimed madly as the tower fell, striking the Wall and shattering into a thousand fragments of metal and masonry.
And with that, the Houses of Parliament seemed to give up. The building toppled in on itself, walls crumbling and roofs caving as the internal structure collapsed. There was a deep unearthly groan, then the entire edifice exploded outwards, chunks of stone borne up on a geyser of white water. A rock the size of a bus landed nearby, gouging a crater in the ground. Kara saw people scattering and others who weren’t fast enough. Rain began to fall, thick with glass and dust. Parliament was gone. In its place stood a fountain, punching at the sky.
Again they ran, into a long street lined with grand stone residences. Tarmac cracked and trees crashed down, one huge trunk flattening three parked cars. Doors flew open, terrified people hauling sacks and boxes filled with possessions. Roof tiles fell like a rain of blades.
They came to a park, joining a knot of people all fleeing in the same direction. A toddler wailed, gazing over his mother’s shoulder at the geyser in the distance. A man shoved past wearing white underpants and carrying a tiny dog; he cursed as it snapped at his face. On a nearby lake white birds drifted serenely, unaware of the spreading panic.
Scaling a set of marble steps they found themselves facing a fenced building even more impressive than the one they’d just escaped from. Flags fluttered from the roof and the courtyard teemed with people in gowns and robes, all bustling around an elderly man who hobbled on a golden cane. “That’s the king!” Nate managed between breaths. “I’ve seen him in clips.”
The old man climbed into a cage made of metal and glass; Kara had never seen anything like it. On the roof a pair of crossed blades began to rotate, thrumming noisily as they picked up speed. Then with a rush of air the whole thing lifted off the ground, gleaming like a black steel insect.
“A copter,” Nate said in astonishment as the machine lifted above the palace, angling towards the Wall. “I never saw one in real life.”
They came to a sloping park, people pressing in around them as they ran – a weeping woman, a boy Kara’s age, a young man with blood streaming down his forehead. Then they broke through a line of trees and found themselves facing the dark mouth of the Gullet. Kara felt her hopes sink.
Thousands of people had already reached the cobbled plaza, shoving towards the tunnel. The roads were jammed, cars and buses grinding to a halt as the panic spread. And still more people were rushing in, darting between the cars, slamming into the crowds that were forcing their way slowly, painfully towards the Gullet.
“Whatever happens,” Kara said. “Hold on to me.”
Nate gulped and nodded.
Fights broke out; she heard people yelling, punches being thrown. More than once they were slammed aside by someone big and determined, forging through the crowd like a boat through chop. Kara squeezed Nate’s hand, feeling the world spin. The courage she’d felt before had been driven from her; now she was drowning in cold fear. She tried to fight it down, to steady herself. Panicking would achieve nothing; they were in enough trouble already. She gulped air, trying not to scream. The crowd surged around them.
“We need more power,” Redeye growled as the engine protested noisily. But the tide was too strong, dragging the speedboat backwards. Rubble shifted and slid and the air rang with the clatter of stones. Joe crouched on the bench seat, seeing towers tumble as their foundations were torn out by the whirlpool forming at the base of the Wall.
Hearing a shout, he turned. From the hollow beneath the tall tower small grey figures came tumbling, bounding over the rocks and splashing into the water, leaping from one rubble heap to the next as the ground shook. Water swelled behind them, a great wave bubbling from the depths.
But on its crest Joe saw something small and white riding the current. Hands gripped the sides of the claw-footed bathtub, the ragged boy and the pale girl clinging on as the tide drove them forward. She raised a ha
nd and Joe waved back, watching as their makeshift craft tossed and twisted, borne away into the labyrinth of stone.
Then the tower began to topple, chunks of concrete splashing into the water all around them. Redeye gave a yell as one of them slammed into the instrument panel. Sparks flew and the engine died. Joe squeezed his eyes shut as they were dragged back, the current pulling them down.
Then suddenly the roaring stopped. The boat tipped forward as waves crashed against the Wall, then sluiced back towards them. Maura looked around in astonishment. “What’s happening?”
“Something’s blocked the tunnel,” Redeye said. “But it won’t hold for long.”
He bent over the broken panel, reaching inside. There was a flash and he pulled back, cursing.
Maura lifted her head, peering through the clouds of dust for any sign of her Shore Boys. After the initial explosion they’d heard distant shouts and gunfire in the gloom, but that was minutes ago at least. Joe couldn’t stop thinking about Kara – how close had she been to that terrible blast?
“You did this,” he said, turning on Redeye. “Didn’t you? You did it, and now Zuma’s dead, and those kids, and … and…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.
Redeye yanked out a pair of wires. “None of them should’ve been out here. It’s their own fault.”
Joe snarled. He wanted to hit Redeye, to spit in his good eye, but he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. “It must be horrible being you,” he said. “You don’t care about anything or anyone.”
Redeye looked up. “It’s like I told Kara. I care so much I’m willing to kill for it.” He returned to his task, twisting the wires together. “You asked me once how I got the eye. I’ll tell you if you like.”
The air was motionless, like it was waiting for something. Joe heard a distant creak like shifting pack ice. “OK,” he said.
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