The Lost Sword

by Pitt, Darrell

  ‘Coal is shipped down here three times a week,’ Blair said. ‘The main furnace connects to three boilers that power the entire city.’

  Someone asked him about a building jutting against the outside of the sphere.

  ‘That’s the submarine dock,’ he said. ‘It’s not functioning—yet.’

  The smell was particularly bad at the far end of the dome. Blair pointed out a large rectangular building adjacent to the curving wall. The sign above the door read Waste Management.

  ‘Everybody produces waste,’ Blair said, ‘but nobody likes talking about it.’

  He broke into deep, booming laughter, but the audience only gave a polite smile. Undeterred, Blair led them inside. As they strolled along an overhead walkway, he pointed to a vast drawer as long and wide as an Olympic swimming pool only five times deeper.

  ‘Foods scraps and other organic waste is collected here,’ he said. ‘The cover locks into place, and the waste is shunted out to the open sea. Non-organic waste is either burnt or taken back to the surface.’

  ‘And when it’s dumped into the ocean?’ Scarlet asked.

  ‘It’s eaten by marine life. We don’t release anything toxic into the environment.’

  A distant crash rang through the dome. Blair paled.

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that,’ he said.

  The group raced back through to Dome One. Here they found a group of engineers assembled around the chamber containing the diving bell.

  ‘What happened?’ Einstein demanded.

  A man introduced himself to the group as Engineer Browne. ‘There’s been an explosion in the diving bell,’ he said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s badly damaged.’ The engineer looked around at their faces. ‘Until we fix it, we’re trapped down here.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ‘What a wonderful accident!’ Edgar announced.

  Jack, Scarlet, Mr Doyle and Edgar were eating cucumber sandwiches and drinking tea in Dome One’s only open café. The whole city was strangely quiet since the incident involving the diving bell. Everyone was on edge knowing they couldn’t escape the city.

  Mr Doyle put down his sandwich. ‘Edgar,’ he said. ‘Are you so foolish as to believe it was an accident?’

  ‘What are you saying, Piggie?’ he asked. ‘That it was deliberate?’

  ‘You are really the most obtuse man—’ Mr Doyle stopped himself. ‘Fujita would love to see us dead, not to mention Drexler and his Nazi cronies. And what about the scientists gathered here?’ he asked. ‘The Metalists could wipe out its top scientists with one blow.’ He shook his head. ‘I was a fool to ever agree to come.’

  ‘There is a bright side,’ Edgar said.

  ‘And that is?’

  ‘It gives us time to work on finding the sword. If we—’

  Mr Doyle leapt to his feet. For a moment, it looked like he might actually attack his brother, but somehow he managed to restrain himself.

  ‘I never want to hear about that ridiculous sword again,’ he seethed.

  Jack spoke up. ‘There must be another way out,’ he said. ‘What about a submarine?’

  Sitting back down, Mr Doyle said, ‘One could make it down here. But the dock isn’t operational. For the moment, it seems we’re stuck here.’

  Jack sighed. Many of the scientists were working on a plan to re-establish contact with the surface while the city engineers repaired the diving bell. There was no indication how long that might take. It could be days, weeks—or even longer.

  Finishing their meal, they started back to their hotel. On the way, Blair raced up to them.

  ‘Are you Doyle?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Edgar and Ignatius answered simultaneously.

  ‘Er, there’s been a murder.’

  ‘I see,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘It’s probably me you’ll be wanting then.’

  Returning to the Imperial, Mr Doyle told his brother to remain in the foyer. Edgar looked like he wanted to argue, but clamped his mouth when he saw the expression on Mr Doyle’s face.

  On the fourth floor, Jack and the others were shown into a large suite with a view overlooking the city. It was a neat and tidy chamber, and all looked completely ordinary—except for the dead man lying in the middle of the floor.

  ‘This is Ryan Davidson,’ Blair said. ‘He’s worked at Mizu City since the beginning.’

  Mr Doyle gingerly examined the body. ‘He’s been dead about an hour,’ he said. ‘A single stab wound to the heart.’

  Jack did an examination of the room, but there was little to discover. It appeared the assailant had knocked on the door and killed Davidson almost immediately.

  Mr Doyle frowned as he looked around. ‘Nothing was stolen,’ he said, thoughtfully chewing on a piece of cheese. ‘And the style of murder is coldly efficient. It’s unlikely to be a crime of passion. So why would someone want this man dead?’

  ‘And why now?’ Jack wondered, aloud.

  Mr Doyle stared at him. ‘Of course!’ he said, turning to Blair. ‘What was Davidson’s job?’

  ‘He’s the manager of the power plant.’

  ‘You must take us there! Immediately!’

  They raced through the city.

  ‘What does this have to do with Davidson?’ Blair puffed, trying to keep up with Mr Doyle. ‘Why was he killed?’

  ‘Because Davidson would be able to undo whatever calamity is about to befall the power supply.’

  When they arrived, they found the doors to the power plant locked.

  ‘This is strange,’ Blair said. ‘These are normally open. ’

  They entered silently. The power plant was enormous, but most of it was automated. Coal fed into hoppers that were delivered to a furnace. Water boiled in vast chambers that turned to steam, supplying the whole city with heat, light and power.

  Jack peered at the dozens of gantries running across the building. There wasn’t a person to be seen.

  ‘Is it normally this quiet?’ Mr Doyle asked.

  ‘Everything is self-maintaining,’ Blair said. ‘Davidson and a repair team check the systems daily.’

  Entering the office overlooking the plant, Mr Doyle pointed to the main control panel. It had been smashed to pieces.

  ‘Looks like someone’s been busy,’ he said.

  ‘Good heavens!’ Blair exploded.

  Jack stared at the controls. ‘What does this mean?’ he asked.

  ‘It means we’re in serious trouble,’ Blair said. ‘The city needs power to extract air from the water. Without it, we’ll suffocate.’

  A sound came from an upper gantry. Jack turned to see a figure, clad from head to toe in a maintenance outfit, dashing away.

  ‘Quick!’ Mr Doyle yelled. ‘We must catch them!’

  Jack, Scarlet and Mr Doyle gave chase. The maintenance clothing had a hood, making it impossible to identify them. The person disappeared behind the main furnace. The heat was terrible. Scampering across a gantry, the person slowed and turned as
they reached a bank of water tanks.

  ‘Watch out!’ Jack yelled.

  Bang!

  They ducked as a bullet whizzed overhead. Mr Doyle produced his weapon, but held his fire as they charged down the corridor. Reaching a door to the outside, they carefully eased it open, but the intruder was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Gone,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘And now the plant is damaged.’

  ‘But why?’ Scarlet asked.

  ‘This is a deliberate attempt to destroy the Darwinist League.’

  ‘But it would kill the saboteur as well.’

  ‘Maybe they’re a fanatic,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘Or have some escape route of which we’re unaware.’

  ‘Do you think Fujita’s behind it?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Him, or somebody like him.’

  Reaching the control room, they found Blair had already assembled a crew who were examining the damaged consoles.

  ‘Can they be fixed?’ Mr Doyle asked.

  ‘We think so,’ a man answered. ‘But it’ll be touch and go for the next twenty-four hours.’

  Returning to the hotel, Jack saw the lighting had already started to dim. By the time they reached their room, the city was in virtual darkness. As he peered out the window, Jack couldn’t help but think of the thousands of tons of water pressed against the domes. If the walls should fail, even for a second, they would be crushed.

  He had only just climbed into bed when there was a knock at his door.

  ‘Jack?’ Scarlet entered. ‘I thought I’d join you, if that’s okay.’

  She climbed in under the blanket with him, and her body heat was like sitting near a fire on a cold winter’s night.

  ‘At least Hiro’s not here,’ she said.

  ‘Do you have to mention him?’ Jack snapped. ‘At a time like this?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You hang around each other like a pair of love birds!’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re saying. He’s not my boyfriend! I’m just glad he’s not stuck down here with the rest of us to die!’

  Scarlet suddenly burst into tears. Jack felt terrible. Everything she had said made sense. He took her hand.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I was stupid.’

  ‘Yes! You were!’ She wiped the tears away. ‘I just want us to be away from here—and safe!’

  Jack nodded. He lay back against his pillow, and listened to Scarlet’s tears subside. After a moment, he realised her breathing was slow and steady.

  I can’t sleep, he thought. I’m too worried to...

  The next thing he knew, he was diving into the ocean and descending rapidly, faster than a stone. A whale swam past with Mr Doyle and Scarlet on its back. They waved frantically to him.

  ‘You must be careful!’ Mr Doyle called. ‘You take far too many chances.’

  ‘If you see Brinkie,’ Scarlet said, ‘give her my best!’

  It became more effortless the further Jack dived. Soon he reached the bottom where it was quiet and cool. Standing on a rocky platform, he looked up and saw the surface, miles away. But then he saw a huge shadow move across.

  The Kusanagi sword can only be wielded by one who is true of heart and believes in its power.

  When Jack opened his eyes next, he saw a pale-yellow light filtering through the window. Scarlet was still asleep. Jack sat up and saw illumination had returned to the city walls. The power station had come back to life, its faint murmur reverberating across Mizu City.

  Thank goodness, Jack thought. We’re alive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Jack had never seen journalists in such a frenzy. After the murder, the diplomats and scientists had secreted themselves away with a joint policy of not speaking to the press. This led journalists to seek quotes from Mr Doyle. Mostly he fended them off, but when he did speak, he remained positive about Mizu City and the Darwinist League.

  Privately, he told Jack and Scarlet of his fears. ‘I just want to be out of this place,’ he said. ‘At least in Tokyo, we had a means of escape.’

  With power returned to the city, Jack felt more relaxed. Whoever had sabotaged the plant had surely done all they could. Soon the diving bell would be operational again.

  Edgar approached Jack and Scarlet as they did a tour of the Town Hall.

  ‘Hail to you, thane of Cawdor!’ he said, raising his arm. ‘That’s from the play that must not be named.’

  ‘Er,’ Jack said. ‘Which one is that?’

  ‘Macbeth,’ Scarlet said. ‘There’s a superstition that if the name is mentioned, then all sorts of bad luck will follow.’

  Jack glared at her. ‘I hope you’re not right,’ he said. ‘We’ve had enough bad luck already.’

  ‘I once owned a copy of Shakespeare’s first folio,’ Edgar said. ‘It was one of the most special times of my life.’

  ‘I assume you stole it,’ Scarlet said, coldly. ‘A copy of Shakespeare’s plays is priceless.’

  ‘Not at all! I won it in a game of cards.’

  ‘A game of cards?’

  ‘I don’t recommend gambling,’ Edgar said, his face serious. ‘It is a vile hobby, especially when you’re losing. No, I was playing against one of the guards at the British Library and he was in some debt to me.’

  ‘How much?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Two hundred and forty million pounds.’

  Jack’s mouth fell open.

  ‘He had gambled foolishly,’ Edgar admitted. ‘I suspect alcohol had something to do with it. Anyway, I promised to call it even if he gave me the folio, and he agreed.’

  ‘But it wasn’t his to give,’ Jack said.

  ‘A small technicality. Anyway, I did not have it for long. The police raided my home soon afterwards and returned it to the library.’ Edgar shook his head sadly. ‘Anyway, I didn’t come here to reminisce. I’ve had a word with one of the scientists so you can take a sneak-peak at something in one of the research labs.’

  ‘What is it?’ Scarlet asked, suspiciously.

  ‘You’ll see,’ Edgar said, stifling a grin. ‘Prepare to be impressed.’

  They followed him to a long, rectangular building in Dome Four, where a huge fish tank with reinforced glass took up one entire wall.

  Jack and Scarlet gasped.

  ‘It’s a whale!’ Jack said.

  ‘It is indeed,’ Edgar said, smiling. ‘I was able to talk Dr Livanov into letting us see her pet.’

  Jack had never seen a whale, let alone one like this. It was blue-grey, and fifty feet long with tiny eyes. But the most peculiar thing was that most of its body was transparent.

  ‘So it’s one of the submarine-whales,’ Scarlet said. ‘Fascinating.’

  A skinny man in a lab coat approached and introduced himself as Livanov’s assistant, Harold Stackhurst.

  ‘Would you like to see inside?’ he asked.

  He led them up a gantry and along the length of the creature before stopping at a hole in the
top of the whale’s head. A spiral staircase, made of skin-covered cartilage, led down. They descended fifteen feet to a large room with bench seats made of the same bony material. Looking out of the creature was like looking through a tinted blue window.

  ‘And water can’t get in?’ Jack asked, nervously.

  ‘The hatch isn’t operational yet,’ Stackhurst said. ‘When it is, the interior will be as dry as a bone.’

  He took them next to the bridge, he pointed at various controls: a single control stick that adjusted vertical and horizontal movement, and two foot pedals, one to accelerate and the other to brake. He explained that they were connected to the whale’s central nervous system.

  ‘Isn’t it distressing for the whale?’ Scarlet asked.

  ‘This creature has no brain.’

  ‘My goodness.’

  ‘It’s been bred without one.’

  Scarlet poked around the creature for a while longer, but didn’t find it as interesting as Jack.

  ‘I’ll see you up top,’ she said.

  He nodded. As Stackhurst led Scarlet out, Edgar took Jack aside.

  ‘You know we may be able to use this creature,’ he said.

  ‘To do what?’ he asked.

  ‘Dr Livanov is in the final stages of preparing the creature for trials. It would be ideal to search the ocean floor for the sword.’

  ‘But what about Mr Doyle?’ Jack asked.

  ‘My brother is a wonderful man, but he does not share our sense of destiny.’

  ‘I’m not sure I have a sense of destiny.’

  ‘You know what the Bard said? Men at some time are masters of their fates,’ Edgar said. ‘I was once wandering around the Stockholm Art Gallery when the power failed. There was a wonderful Degas picture on the wall. Do you know what I did?’

  Jack could guess. ‘You stole it?’

  ‘I don’t steal things. I just borrow them until someone else is able to acquire them back. You know my motto Jack: Nobody owns anything.’