Blue Dome (The Blue Dome Series)

by Gill, J. G.

  Ecoli turned to the boy, visibly irritated.

  “We’re here to do a job,” he said.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t sign up for this,” said Justin.

  “You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into when you took that pay cheque,” said Ecoli, exhaling sharply.

  Justin began to run. As the wolfhound launched itself at Min, he threw himself between them. The dog’s teeth burrowed deep into his back and ripped his coat open as if it were tissue paper. Justin’s screams filled the atrium as his body landed heavily on the marble floor. A pool of blood billowed around him, savagely red against the stark white tiles.

  Ecoli lunged towards Min, snatching a handful of air she fled up the marble staircase. Eredus bounded after her, but he was already several paces behind. Ecoli turned towards Justin.

  “You did that deliberately,” he hissed.

  “No. I swear. I was trying to help,” Justin whispered through bloody lips.

  Ecoli looked at him in disgust.

  “Try explaining that to the boss,” he said.

  Outside, a tall figure was striding across Beare Bridge, his long, winter coat billowing in black clouds behind him.

  ***

  Thomas and I were on the middle step of the long, spiral staircase when Min came barrelling around the corner.

  “Hurry!” she said.

  “Quick Clare, through here,” said Thomas.

  I looked at the creamy, curved wall beside me. It was completely solid. Not a door or an obvious way in anywhere.

  “I don’t get it,” I said.

  “Here,” said Thomas, taking my hand and pressing it to the wall.

  Then the weirdest thing happened. Instead of feeling solid plaster, the wall gave way, as if it was made of rubber. I got such a shock I pulled my hand back. The wall instantly returned to its normal, smooth, unmarked self. I looked at Thomas, but before I could open my mouth to ask what on earth was going on, I felt him push me sideways. I was sure I heard the distant howl of a dog, before everything went deathly quiet and I began to fall and fall.

  CHAPTER XVIII

  Calix crouched cat-like on the floor of the doll factory. She felt cold and clammy and her heart was pounding so loudly that her whole body seemed to shudder with its echo. It was now impossible to hear exactly what Bede and the man were saying to one another, but the trembling fear in Bede’s voice was unmistakeable. A part of Calix felt like screaming in frustration: why hadn’t Bede followed her when he’d had the chance? She knew, though, that it would have made no difference – the man would have found him anyway.

  Taking a deep breath, Calix exhaled slowly, trying to calm her nerves. As long as she could still see some distance between herself and the hem of the long, black coat, poking out from underneath the rack further from her, she figured she might still be able to escape. She slid her eyes to the left, scanning the far wall until she located the door to the loading bay. It was about five steps away, three if she made them half-jumps. To reach it, though, she would have to venture out into the open where there would be nothing to protect her. Besides that, the door was shut and if she got there and found that it was locked, she’d be in big trouble. Even in a best-case scenario, a shut door still meant factoring in ‘fumble time’ and having just seen the speed at which the man could throw lightning across a floor, Calix didn’t fancy her chances of beating his reflexes.

  She was still working out what to do when she suddenly realised she couldn’t hear voices anymore. Worse, there was an eerie stillness in the room, as if something was on the brink of happening which she was powerless to prevent. Calix peered under the rack, but the hem had vanished. Where’s he gone? she thought. Suddenly, a storm of wind hit her, flinging her back against the wall and knocking the air from her lungs. Gasping for breath, she watched in a horrified daze as a black tornado spiralled up from the assembly room floor, towards the mezzanine level. The racks started to wobble, shaking the plastic dolls as if they were the totems of an angry witch doctor. Then, before she could scream, the racks started to topple, one after the other, a series of huge, metal dominoes covered in dismembered bodies.

  Calix covered her ears against the deafening noise and quickly scuttled from the aisle on her knees. She was now out in the open and vulnerable to attack, but it was better than waiting to be crushed by a falling rack. She clambered to her feet and lunged towards the door, pushing down on the handle with all her strength. The door flew open and she ran, faster than she’d ever run before, down the corridor to the loading bay at the side of the factory. She breathed a sigh of relief as she arrived to find that all the delivery trucks were lined up in their parking bays, as quiet as a herd of grazing cattle.

  “Thank you, workers’ strike,” she muttered as she ran to the first truck and peered inside the window. Damn, no keys. She ran to the second truck, then the third.

  “What do the drivers do with the keys, eat them at the end of their shifts?” she cursed.

  It was only once she’d reached the fourth truck that Calix finally saw a set of keys, sitting like a gold ingot on the driver’s seat. She quickly wrenched open the door and climbed in. Firing up the engine, it crossed her mind that she’d definitely be sacked for stealing a truck. Then again, being sacked was the least of her worries, once the police caught up with her. As she stamped the accelerator into tyre-squealing speed and flew up the ramp of the cargo bay, Calix prayed the squad car wouldn’t be waiting for her in the car park.

  ***

  Steel boot heels clipped the marble floor of the Cathedral as their owner strode across the mosaic star. The man stopped as he reached the figure lying sprawled in the middle of the floor, looking down at him with the disdain of someone who had just stepped in particularly messy road kill.

  “So, you thought you would assist Ecoli capture the girl did you?” said Demarge.

  Justin nodded feebly. Any slight movement, even breathing, pulled the skin tightly around his lacerations like an agonising corset.

  “Well, I find that curious,” said Demarge. “You saw that Eredus already had Min-Isis in his sights, so what more could you possibly have done to help?”

  “I thought I could stop her,” Justin mumbled. “I…I made a mistake.”

  “Yes, you did,” said Demarge. “Perhaps the worst mistake of your life. You see, Justin, I’m not sure I can trust you any more, and an employee I can’t trust is worse than having no employee at all. So tell me, what am I to do with you?”

  “Kill him,” said Ecoli.

  Demarge arched his eyebrow, as if seriously considering the idea.

  “Is Ecoli right? Should I take his advice and save myself any more disappointment?”

  Justin didn’t reply. He was too busy trying to block out the pain that was pulsating in his back.

  “He’s no good to you,” said Ecoli, curling his lip at the prostrate figure. “I know you had high hopes for him, but he doesn’t have the mettle.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” said Demarge. He shifted his gaze away from Justin and began scanning the room. “So where did they take the girl?”

  “It’s strange,” said Ecoli, shaking his head as he turned towards the stairwell leading to the Murmuring Gallery. “Eredus followed Min-Isis up those stairs but there was no sign of her, Thomas or the girl. It’s as if they simply disappeared.”

  Demarge glanced across at the entrance to the Murmuring Gallery, frowning thoughtfully. He walked slowly to the square doorway and placed his hand on the cold marble, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply. As he gradually opened his eyes again, he held his fingertips to his lips and gently exhaled.

  “You’re clearly telling the truth,” said Demarge.

  “Of course,” said Ecoli, unable to hide his irritation that there had been any doubt.

  Demarge studied him for a couple of seconds, deciding whether or not to take offence at his tone. Ecoli, sensing that he may have gone too far, quickly averted his gaze. He was relieved when Demarge let it pass an
d turned his attention back to the atrium of the Cathedral.

  “So, they’ve put the entrance to the Slipworld in a Cathedral have they?” Demarge was speaking as much to himself as to anyone else. “The very place where people come to worship their creator.” He started to laugh, quietly at first, then gradually louder, the great peals being pulled from somewhere deep inside him. “How incredibly amusing. At least the Aeons have a sense of humour.”

  Demarge didn’t wait for Ecoli to reply as he began to climb the stairwell. He walked slowly, taking his time, his hand tracing the curve of the wall.

  “Very curious indeed,” he muttered to himself.

  His fingers scurried like spiders over the plaster, investigating every lump, every crevice, every gouge in the wall or chip in the paint that was even slightly unusual. As his boot struck the middle step, Demarge’s eyes suddenly flashed with recognition. He paused, his fingers testing every millimetre of the plaster.

  “The presence of pale light is so strong here,” he whispered to himself.

  He took a deep breath and pressed himself to the wall, as if straining to hear a sound far away. His hands continued to work the plaster, using his fingertips like divining rods to search for shallow spaces, pockets of weakness. He finally stepped back, smiling to himself.

  “I’ll be back,” he whispered.

  He turned and began striding back down the stairs, the sound of his boots echoing off the marble. Ecoli met him at the entrance to the atrium.

  “Did you find anything?” he said.

  Demarge ignored the question.

  “Take the boy back and have Stanley place him in the guest quarters with the best view,” he said.

  “As you wish,” said Ecoli.

  He bent down and hefted Justin onto his shoulders like the boy was a sack of onions. Justin groaned in pain but was too weak to resist, as Ecoli strode effortlessly across the atrium and through the main doors of the Cathedral.

  Demarge was now alone. He glanced down at the pool of blood on the floor, and began twisting his wrists. The thick, sticky liquid started to move, slowly at first, then spiralling, faster and faster until it formed a whirlpool on the floor, drawing in every last smudge of red. The faster it spun, the smaller it got until finally it was no more.

  Demarge brushed his hands, as if dusting away crumbs, and walked through the huge wooden doors leading outside. He gave a single, loud clap, and the doors closed instantly behind him, locking shut. He then strode down the path, past the still-unconscious security guard and out through the front gates.

  CHAPTER XIX

  Daylight shrunk, then disappeared, as I felt myself sinking into the rubbery wall and the darkness absorbed me completely. I gulped for air, my reflexes clinging to the breath as if I’d suddenly been pushed into a lake. I was now surrounded by a soft, thick substance, like creamy porridge. I tried to stop myself from falling, but every time I reached out the walls around me slithered through my fingers and I fell even further. I tried to keep my eyes open but it was impossible, my drooping eyelids were overriding my brain and I was losing control. I felt a scream gurgle up in my throat, but it was locked in my breath. Suddenly, there was a weird sucking sound and my back hit something solid. I couldn’t be sure, but it felt as if I’d come to a stop.

  I lay completely still for a minute, nervously waiting for whatever strange thing was going to happen next. I waited and waited. Nothing happened. Slowly, I opened my eyes, one at a time, squinting as sudden bursts of bright sunlight flooded my pupils. There was a large white blob in front of me, from which the outline of a person slowly shifted into focus. I propped myself up onto my elbows to see Min kneeling nearby.

  “What happened? Where are we?” I asked.

  “You’re in the Slipworld,” she said, smiling. “We’re safe now.”

  I sat up properly to get a better look. Something vaguely sticky was tickling my fingers and I glanced down at the thick, mint-coloured blades of grass that were poking up out of the ground. I looked at Min questioningly – I don’t know what I’d expected the Slipworld to be like exactly, but ordinary, everyday grass seemed out of place.

  It was then that I noticed the incredible scent surrounding me. It was as if I’d just woken up in my favourite bottle of perfume. Some things I recognised instantly; freesias, violets, honeysuckles – we had all of those in our garden at home – but there were other things too, exotic scents I couldn’t place.

  I took a deep, greedy gulp of air and shifted my eyes across the meadow. It was smothered in brightly coloured wild flowers and I could almost feel my eyeballs expanding to take them all in. Behind me, the ground sloped upwards into small, grassy hillocks, topped with clusters of trees. There were tall, spiky pines, and bushy willows covered in leaves that were every shade of green. The trees shielded a wall of craggy foothills that curved slightly, as if making a cradle for the meadow to rest in, and above the foothills rose huge, purply-grey mountains that reached for the sky, the ridges of their backs squiggling into the distance like the spines of giant lizards. The clouds had begun to settle, resting their bellies on the highest peaks and warming themselves in the rising sun.

  “I trust you had a soft landing?” said a deep voice behind me.

  I turned, doing a double take when I saw a man who looked a lot like Thomas, but who was older and much taller. He was seriously good-looking.

  “Err, yes thank you,” I said awkwardly. “Are you Thomas’s brother?”

  The man laughed. “No. I am Thomas.”

  “Are you?” I said, mentally kicking myself for saying it out loud.

  “This is how I normally look when I’m not trying to infiltrate human high schools,” he said, smiling.

  “Oh.” I could feel the heat rush into my cheeks as I started to blush. Part of me felt like a right idiot for not guessing the guy was actually Thomas. An equally big part suddenly felt incredibly shy about talking to someone so good looking. Luckily, Min intervened.

  “Welcome to the Valley of Flowers,” she said, smiling. “I imagine this is all a bit overwhelming?”

  I nodded mutely, trying not to stare at Thomas too much.

  “Now we’re safe in the Slipworld, you can ask us all the questions you want,” Min continued. “You may not understand all the answers straightaway, but you will in time.”

  “Okay,” I said, hesitantly. That was definitely a new experience, actually being encouraged to ask questions. Most of the time I was being told to stop. In fact, I’d long since accepted that Arlene was probably right, that I was naturally a nosey person who needed to learn when to leave things alone. I decided to try out my new right to ask questions by starting with the thing that was the most immediately surprising.

  “How come the Slipworld looks just like the real world?” I said, the word ‘real’ snagging in my ear as soon as I’d said it, making me cringe at my own tactlessness. To Min and Thomas, the Slipworld probably was the real world. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “I didn’t mean that the Slipworld was any less real than the…umm.” I managed to catch myself in time, just before I went and said ‘real world’ again. But then promptly stalled. The fact was, I didn’t actually know how else to put it. Now I’d tied my apology into a knot, making it worse than if I’d just left it.

  Thomas laughed. “We’re not offended Clare, Min and I completely understand. Believe me, it’s natural for mortals to refer to their world as the ‘real world’ and the Slipworld as something, well, otherworldly and unreal, because that’s how it is for them. Why would you think any differently when the world you’ve come from is all you’ve ever known?”

  I smiled, weakly, grateful that maybe I hadn’t made a complete idiot of myself after all.

  “In answer to your question though,” said Thomas, “the Slipworld is deliberately designed to look familiar. We even mimic the seasons of your world. It makes it much easier for mortals to acclimatise that way.”

  “How have you done that?” I said.

  �
�With light. It’s what the Slipworld is made of,” said Min. “Light is extremely pliable in the right hands, you can literally build mountains with it. All the flowers you can see are made of light. They’ll disappear in a few weeks, as we prepare for winter. ”

  “Hang on, everything’s made of…light?” I said. I could feel my frown lines starting to ache. “But you’re way too solid. Light isn’t something you can touch and hold. It runs through your fingers and scatters. And yet, if I touch you…” I reached out and tapped Min on the arm, “…you’re as solid as me.”

  “I know,” said Min, smiling. “All mortals are confused by that when they first arrive. You need to understand that light in the Slipworld is of a different nature and quality from the light in your world. Here, light exists in its purest state. It is the strongest and most resilient thing we have.”

  I looked at Min, trying to get my head around everything she’d just said. It was all so bizarre and nothing seemed to fit with anything I’d ever heard at school. I could just imagine what kind of grade I’d have got if I’d ever written any of that stuff in a science exam.

  “Come,” said Min, sensing my confusion, “we can explain as we walk. It’s time you met the others anyway.”

  She offered me her hand and pulled me to my feet. I began picking my way through the flowers, trying not to step on any of them. Min paused to pick a piece of grass, fiddling with it as she walked.

  “I should start at the beginning,” she said. “It was so long ago, many, many centuries, when the very concept of time had barely been conceived. Everything was still new. The universe was made entirely of light and the Aeons were its only inhabitants. Although there were several dozen of us, we shared it equally and in peace. There were no boundaries or borders – everything belonged to the collective. Many of us assumed that it would be like that forever. Unfortunately, things changed.”

  I waited for Min to continue, as she took a deep breath.

  “After many years, one of the Aeons grew restless. He was tired of the endless tranquillity, tired of having to share everything he had. He yearned for an identity that would belong solely to him. The only solution he could see was to create his own new world, a place where he could control every living thing.”