Charles' voice crackled through the overhead speakers. 'APOLOGIES FOR THE DELAY, BUT IT HAS BEEN A WHILE SINCE THE TOUR MONORAIL HAS BEEN OPERATIONAL.'
'I thought the other group had taken the tour?' asked Karen.
There was again a slight pause which didn't go unnoticed by the four of them. 'UNFORTUNATELY THEY DECIDED TO FOREGO THE MONORAIL PORTION OF THE TOUR. WHICH WAS A SHAME, AS I BELIEVE IT IS BY FAR THE BEST PART.'
'If it's not been used for so long, how do we know it's safe?' she asked.
'I ASSURE YOU, BOTH THE CARRIAGE AND SERVICE TRACK ARE IN TIP TOP CONDITION. I HAVE PERSONALLY RUN THE DIAGNOSTICS OVER 100 TIMES. YOU HAVE NO NEED TO BE CONCERNED AND IT WOULD BE SUCH A SHAME TO MISS OUT ON THE MOST SPECTACULAR PORTION OF THE TOUR.'
Andrew stepped forward. 'Then what are we waiting for!' he said, 'If this doesn't blow my socks off Charlie-boy, them I'm going to be really disappointed.'
'I'M AFRAID THE SPEED WILL NOT BE SUFFICIENT TO BLOW SOCKS OR ANY ITEMS OF CLOTHING OFF.'
'Oh, Charlie-boy! I'm sure you've got some tricks up your sleeve.'
'UNFORTUNATELY, I DO NOT HAVE SLEEVES EITHER.'
Karen brushed past Andrew and hopped into the carriage. 'Stop teasing the poor thing,' she said, 'You know how much I've been looking forward to this!'
'I'm sorry, I'm just excited. Charlie has sold it so well.' He hopped in beside her on the front row, 'Let's roll!'
'WE CANNOT DEPART THE DOCKING AREA UNTIL ALL PASSENGERS ARE SECURE IN THEIR SEATS.'
Andrew shot Karen a look. 'Showtime,' he whispered. Out loud he said 'Don't worry about those two. Thomas is feeling unwell. He's gonna sit this one out.'
'And I better stay with him,' said George.
There was another pause - this one much longer - before Charles spoke. 'THERE IS A MEDICAL BAY ON LEVEL TWO. OUR TOUR WILL PASS NEAR TO THIS LOCATION. I CAN CALL AHEAD TO PREPARE THE FACILITIES FOR OUR ARRIVAL.'
'It's ok,' said Thomas, 'I've just come over a bit queasy. I'll be alright here with George until you get back. I don't want you guys to miss out. It sounds great.'
'I MUST INSIST. THE MEDICAL FACILITIES IN SECTOR 72 ARE FIRST RATE. WE HAVE MEDICATION THAT CAN NULLIFY ANY FEELINGS OF NAUSEA.'
'The boy says he's fine here,' said Andrew, 'George will take good care of him. Time's a wasting Charlie-boy!'
'I...I...I REALLY MUST INSIST MASTER THOMAS ACCOMPANY US TO THE MEDICAL BAY. THESE SURROUNDINGS ARE NOT CONDUCIVE FOR HIS CURRENT CONDITION.'
Karen looked at Andrew wide eyed. 'Since when did a computer stutter?' she whispered.
Andrew nodded, the plan hinged on them not raising any suspicions, but the more they pushed, the more desperate Charles became. The plan seemed to be going south very quickly.
'Actually,' said Thomas, holding his stomach, 'I think I need the bathroom. Is there one in this bar?'
Before there was a reply, Thomas lurched away from the door with George in tow. Luckily the toilets were signposted and they both disappeared through a door adjacent to the bar.
'I hope he's alright,' said Karen, 'The poor thing just needs a sit down.'
'He'll be fine. Probably that dodgy pizza we had earlier. Are we ready Charles?'
There was another pause and Andrew got the distinct impression that Charles was struggling with this unexpected turn of events. The machine had clearly been programmed with just the one possible outcome and their little ditty was playing havoc with its cognitive process. 'THE TOUR IS FOR THE ENTIRETY OF YOUR PARTY. I REALLY MUST INSIST. THEY WILL BE MISSING OUT ON SOME TRULY WONDROUS EXHIBITIONS.'
'Maybe they can take the next one,' said Karen, 'He might be feeling better later.'
'Let's go Charlie-boy! Show us what you got.' Andrew was still trying to keep it light and bubbly and on this last part he did his best Al Pacino. Deep down he was full of dread; convinced the computer had clocked their sham.
The pause that followed was the longest yet and mixed with faint clicks that were more than just speaker static. Andrew felt Karen's hand sneak into his and give it a worried squeeze. Then without fanfare, the doors squeaked shut and the carriage started moving. Both of them let out a lungful of air they didn't realise they were holding.
Despite Charles' assurances, the carriage moved at quite a lick. Not fast enough to knock your socks off, but uncomfortable enough for the both of them to grip the edges of their seats. It wasn't quite a roller coaster, but there were sections where it dropped sharply to different levels. They travelled along blurry tunnels that were also poorly lit with flickering strip lights. Andrew guessed that when the facility was fully operational, these carriages would carry the lab coated technicians to different parts of the vast underground facility. The track levelled out and the cart slowed enough for them to be comfortable in releasing their grip. They approached a much cleaner and brightly lit section which was presumably the start of the tour.
'That was quite a ride there, my friend,' said Andrew.
'APOLOGIES FOR NOT 'KNOCKING YOUR SOCKS OFF' THOUGH,' Charles said, with more than a hint of sarcasm which Andrew didn't much care for - especially from a computer, 'BUT DUE TO THE POOR QUALITY LIGHTING, I HAVE HAD TO REDUCE TOP SPEED TO ONLY 65%.'
'You mean this thing can go faster?' asked Karen.
'INDEED. WHEN THIS FACILITY WAS FULLY OPERATIONAL THERE WERE OVER 200 SHUTTLES OPERATING AT ANY GIVEN TIME, TRANSPORTING PERSONNEL AROUND THE DIFFERENT DEPARTMENTS. MAXIMUM EFFICIENCY WAS MAINTAINED THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE NETWORK.'
'For our benefit,' said Andrew, '65% is just fine.'
'APOLOGIES IF IT HAS MADE YOU FEEL...NAUSEOUS.'
Karen shot Andrew a worried look and mouthed 'He knows' to him.
Andrew could only nod. 'Busy place then,' he said, 'What sort of research went on here.'
'UNFORTUNATELY A GREAT DEAL OF INFORMATION IS STILL CLASSIFIED. BUT, IN THE EARLY DAYS, SECTOR 72, LIKE MOST OF THE FACILITIES IN SHAEL, WAS FOCUSED ON PREDOMINANTLY STRUCTURAL DESIGN. THE CREATION OF TECHNOLOGY THAT AIDED THE CREATION OF DIFFERENT REALMS.'
'Are you saying actual worlds were created here? I don't believe it.'
'WHY OF COURSE, MISTRESS KAREN, SHAEL WAS ONCE THE CENTRE OF ALL WORLDS. WERE YOU NOT AWARE OF ITS IMPORTANCE?'
'No, it's not that,' she said, backtracking, 'It's just so impressive seeing it up close like this.' She looked to Andrew for help.
'You said in the early days?' he said, 'What did you research later on.'
'THE SECTOR 72 RESEARCH FACILITY WAS ONE OF THE FIRST TO CEASE PRODUCTION AND CONVERT TO A MUSEUM DUE TO ITS REMOTENESS FROM THE CENTRAL REGIONS. HOWEVER, IN THE FINAL YEARS, RESEARCH WAS PREDOMINANTLY AROUND ESP AND OTHER SUCH BRAIN FUNCTIONS.'
'This was a medical research facility?'
'UNFORTUNATELY I CANNOT DIVULGE ANY FURTHER INFORMATION.'
'Let me guess,' said Andrew, 'It's classified.'
'IT IS INDEED. NOW IF YOU WOULD CARE TO LOOK TO YOUR RIGHT, YOU WILL SEE THE GRAND HANGER. SITE OF MANY OF SECTOR 72'S FINEST CREATIONS.'
The cart slowed to a crawl and the tunnel wall to their right was replaced by floor to ceiling glass panelling. They could feel the sheer size of the place, but the poor lighting and smeared glass made it impossible to make anything out. They came to the end of the glass wall and the cart picked up speed again.
'Must have been something when it was all working,' said Karen.
'THE SECTOR 72 RESEARCH FACILITY WAS INDEED RESPONSIBLE FOR SOME SPECTACULAR CREATIONS. TO FULLY APPRECIATE THE NUMEROUS PROJECTS, YOU MAY WISH TO VISIT THE MUSEUM LIBRARY AT THE CONCLUSION OF THE TOUR.'
'I'm sure we will check it out,' said Karen.
They felt the cart slowing as they approached another brighter section. The sides of the tunnel changed from dull concrete to glass and they emerged amongst a huge sunlit mall. Andrew counted five floors in total, set either side of a long central concourse. There were impressive looking escalators reaching up to the different layers and white marble bridges connecting either side. Sunlight streamed through a giant stained glass
domed ceiling, covering the marble floor in a dizzying array of colour. Apart from a few missing glass panels, Andrew was surprised by how clean the place looked.
'THIS IS THE SOUTHERN AND SMALLER SECTOR 72 CONCOURSE,' said Charles, 'IN ITS DAY, TECHNICIANS, LOWER LEVEL SCIENTISTS AND A WHOLE HOST OF PERSONNEL WOULD LIVE AND SPEND THEIR FREE TIME HERE. THERE WERE NUMEROUS LEISURE PURSUITS AVAILABLE PLUS NUMEROUS EATING ESTABLISHMENTS, PROVIDING AN ASSORTMENT OF CUISINES FROM AROUND THE REALMS.'
'And you say this is the smaller concourse?' said Karen.
'IT IS INDEED. WE HAVE A SHORT DISTANCE TO TRAVEL TO THE MAIN CENTRAL CONCOURSE, BUT WE SHALL BE THERE MOMENTARILY. THE CENTRAL CONCOURSE IS FAR GRANDER WITH SOME SPECTACULAR STONE MASONRY THAT I AM SURE WILL BE OF INTEREST. MY HOPE IS THAT THIS WILL BLOW YOUR SOCKS OFF.'
The cart sped up as it entered the darker tunnel and Andrew leant over to Karen. 'This thing is really starting to piss me off,' he said, 'What say you to ditching this ride when we get to the central place. We seem to slow almost to a crawl.'
Karen nodded. 'Do you think it'll let us?'
Andrew smiled. 'I'm not planning on giving it a fucking choice.'
4
George and Thomas didn't know how much time they had, so they didn't waste any. As soon as they heard the carriage pull away, they left the toilet area and backtracked to the reception. Once there, they searched the desk for anything useful, but apart from a couple of rotten and eligible ledgers, there was nothing.
They avoided the main hangar area which was too poorly lit to even attempt a search. Instead, they crossed the entrance foyer and forced open a rusty door that faced back towards the main reception. George's rationale being they needed to move away from any areas designed for sightseers and look for the worker areas. Beyond the door lay a short corridor that lead to a set of crumbly concrete stairs. At the top was a comfortable waiting area with offices leading from it. To Thomas it felt like a doctors surgery. There was even a receptionists desk; similar, but not as grand as the one downstairs.
'Bingo!' said George, 'There has to be something we can use in here.'
They split up, each of them taking three offices each. The first two Thomas searched were empty apart from rotten wooden desks and rusty office chairs. The third one however, was much larger with row upon row of ring binders stacked on a sagging shelf. Most of the paper was rotten and eligible and he was about to give up to join George, when something caught his eye. There were two large framed pictures hanging on the office wall. One was a copy of a painting showing an elderly gentleman wearing a monocle. The other, partially hidden behind the lee of the open door, was far more interesting. He carefully took it from its hanger and laid it out on the desk. The paper had been preserved behind glass and was only faded in the corners. He gently eased off the backing and slid the document out; being careful not to catch it and rip it. He could feel the age of the paper, but he could also feel the euphoria pulsing through him. Laid out in front of him was a map of the sector 72 research facility.
'That'll do the trick,' said George from behind, making him jump, 'Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.'
Thomas took a beat to compose himself. 'It's ok, just this place freaks me out. It feels like death.'
'It is death,' he said, 'It created death and then it died itself.'
'Well that's a pleasant though. Did you find anything?'
'No. Any paperwork is well past its sell by date. You were lucky with that. Lets see what we've got.'
They spread the map out between them and held the corners down with folders. The map was divided into six sections, each of which detailed the different levels. They could tell very quickly that most of the facility was below ground level and that their current floor was one of the highest. The ground floor was made up predominantly of storage space - presumably for ease of transporting equipment to and from the facility.
'This place is enormous,' said Thomas, 'Where do we even start.'
'We start by eliminating the areas we don't need,' said George, 'The ground floor is mainly warehouse, so there's not going to be anything there. Besides, from what we've seen, the lighting is pretty crappy anyway. There seems to be a network of tunnels connecting most of the areas, which makes sense seeing what Karen and Andrew went off in.'
'If it's alright by you,' said Thomas, 'I'd rather do this on foot. I don't trust that Charles.'
'Me either, and anyway I get the feeling those carts only go where he wants them to go.' He moved his hand over the third and fourth sections. 'These two levels seem to be residential areas. See how the tunnels all lead there. I would guess this is where the workers were housed.'
'Looks like a shopping mall.'
'It does. They are also too big to waste our time on. See how they intersect with the other levels?'
Thomas nodded. Both of the residential areas were at least five storeys high, the majority of which was below ground, but in places they touched the roof of the entire complex. They did look like huge shopping malls and George was right, they would take days to search. 'So where do we go?' he asked.
'The lower levels look a lot smaller and there's less tunnels leading to them. My guess is that our little tour would have gone nowhere near this section. Which means we are.'
'And what are we looking for?'
George carefully rolled up the map and affectionately bopped him on the head. 'I guess we'll know when we find it,' he said.
'That doesn't fill me with a lot of confidence.'
'I know. You're putting a lot of faith in a ninety year olds hunch.'
'You know that's not what I mean. I'll trust your hunches over anyone's. I just feel we're still nowhere closer to finding my mum.'
'It may feel that way, and so far they've done a pretty good job at throwing us off the scent. But I've got an inkling they really don't want us snooping around those lower levels.'
'Ok,' said Thomas, 'But how do we get down there?'
The answer was a lot more straightforward than they initially thought, but frustratingly hard to find. They followed the map and backtracked to the stairwell which took them back to the gloomy ground floor corridor. The map showed the stairs continuing to the lower levels, but for the life of them, they couldn't figure out how.
After ten minutes searching, it was literally blind luck when Thomas stumbled on a service hatch. It was buried in the floor about twenty meters from the bottom of the stairs and it needed all their strength to lift. Eventually they managed to lift the cast iron cover revealing a metal ladder disappearing beneath them. George used the torch to try and get some idea of depth, but despite the strength of the light, he couldn't make out the bottom.
'You gonna be ok with the climb?' asked Thomas, teasing slightly, 'It's a long way down.'
'Maybe you better go first,' he said, 'If my dodgy hips give out, at least you can catch me!'
Thomas looked at him to see if he was being serious, realized he wasn't and grabbed the torch. 'Hope you can keep up, old timer,' he said and headed down the ladder. George took one last look at the deserted corridor, and followed.
The climb was slow going. The ladder rungs were wet with condensation and sections felt brittle as if they were rusted through. Thomas held the grip of the torch in his mouth which gave them a swaying, giddy light as they descended. After what felt like an hour but was actually closer to ten minutes, Thomas touched down into six inches of dirty cold water.
'Which way now?' he asked.
George splashed down beside him, breathing heavily from the exertion. 'Based on the where we've just come from. I would say we need to head back towards the centre of the complex, which should be to our left.'
Thomas swung the torch in both directions. There was a residual glow coming from somewhere, but not enough to show any features. 'This can't be the main access route.'
'It's not,' said George, 'It's either a maintenance tunnel or a fire escape. Lets just hope it takes us to where we want to go.'
They sloshed along t
he tunnel for another ten minutes until they came to a sealed door. It was set in the wall and wasn't too dissimilar to the type of bulkhead door found on submarines. It even had a wheeled locking mechanism which turned surprisingly easily. The chamber beyond was much larger, drier and at least had some residual light from the few overhead strip lights that still worked.
George took out the map to get his bearings. 'Unless I'm very much mistaken,' he said, 'This should be level five and along this corridor should be another staircase.'
'We going for level six?'
George nodded. 'Seems like a good place to start.'
There were a number of doors leading from the corridor, but out of the six they tried, only two opened and neither held anything of interest. They followed the corridors curve to the left and found themselves at the top of George's staircase.
'Please don't say bingo,' said Thomas.
'Wouldn't dream of it. But we are definitely on the right track.'
'How so?'
George pointed to a faded sign at the head of the stairs, it read: Restricted Access. Only personnel with level 8 security clearance can access levels 6 & 7.
Thomas frowned. 'Level 7? There's no level 7 on the map.'
'Indeed.' said George.
The stairs were in good condition with enough light to make the torch redundant. In no time they reached level 6, but with a greater prize now in their sights, they bypassed it and continued their downward descent. After a further two flights they reached the very bottom of the stairwell and stood in front of the entrance to level 7. Much like the service tunnel from earlier, the entrance had a bulkhead door which took all of their combined strength to eventually unlock.
The wheel turning mechanism had obviously not been opened for years and it was so rusted, their first few attempts wouldn't budge it. Gradually though, and using a rocking technique George had learnt from his time opening stubborn tank hatches, the wheel began to move. With an inch of hope, they doubled their efforts and after five minutes, they had the hatch open and were met with a blast of rotten, stale air. Before them lay yet another flickering hallway with similar bulkhead doors along each side. The corridor was only short, ending after just eight doors.
Meadowbank: A dark fantasy thriller (The Shael Chronicles Book 2) Page 19