Secret of the Sirens

by Julia Golding

  That was rich coming from him when he had kept her in the dark about the Society for weeks!

  “I would have, but Dr. Brock told me to keep it a secret until we were sure.”

  “But you could’ve at least told me!” Col gave Mags a cursory farewell pat, not feeling too pleased with his horse, either, and started to make his way home. Connie ran to hold him back.

  “What’s the matter, Col? What’ve I done? I thought you’d be happy for me.”

  He said nothing, but shook her off and stomped back to the stream with Connie tagging behind. He was beginning to feel sorry that he had reacted so badly, but now that he had snapped at her, it was doubly difficult to admit that he was in the wrong.

  “Look, your grandmother’s back,” said Connie, pointing to a bicycle leaning against the wall.

  “Good, you can go and tell her your news yourself then,” he replied sullenly. “I’m off. I’m playing soccer this morning with Justin.”

  Kicking the garden gate open, Col ran off down the street in the direction of his friend’s house, aware that he had just told Connie a lie. He had not arranged to play soccer with Justin at all, but he could not bear to be present when she told his grandmother. He knew his grandmother would overreact, probably cry and make a great fuss over her. His own gift paled beside hers: who would be interested in him if Connie were there meeting creatures left, right, and center? He had liked the idea of sharing the secret of the true business of the Society with someone in his school—but he had never imagined it would be on anything but equal terms.

  It was worse than Col had feared. Not only did his grandmother chatter on endlessly about Connie all that day, but everyone else seemed to have become obsessed with the subject. Even Dr. Brock, whom Col admired intensely, had caught the hysteria surrounding the universal and had gone to the unusual length of summoning a special meeting of the Chartmouth Chapter at the Clamworthys’ that evening. Col sat moodily in a corner cleaning the mud off his soccer cleats to get ready for school the next day. He gave everyone the minimal greeting he could get away with, without being too obviously rude. His grandmother by contrast was alight with enthusiasm, showering her guests with champagne as she popped open a bottle she had kept for a special occasion. His dad ruffled his hair in greeting before moving swiftly on to take over for his grandmother as wine-waiter. Col scowled and smoothed his hair back.

  When Evelyn and Signor Antonelli entered—Evelyn looking uncharacteristically happy, the Italian kissing all the ladies’ hands gaily—Dr. Brock immediately leapt up and asked: “Where’s Connie? Is someone with her? She mustn’t be left alone.”

  “Don’t worry, Francis,” said Evelyn, accepting a glass of champagne from Mack with a radiant smile, “I’ve left her with a friend from school—the Benedict girl. You know the family: they live on the new estate.”

  Dr. Brock nodded. “Oh yes, the Axoil scientist. She’ll be safe there.”

  Col dug angrily at the dried mud stuck between two studs, prying off a piece that looked like a slice of gray Swiss cheese. So, they were going to have minute-by-minute bulletins on the universal’s movements now, text messages as to what she had for breakfast!

  “Now, I’ve called this meeting not only so that I can share the great news about Connie. In fact, I see from your faces that that would be quite redundant as you all seem to know already. Someone is going to have a very large phone bill at the end of the month.” Dr. Brock cast an amused look in Mrs. Clamworthy’s direction.

  “Well, Francis, it’s not every day I get the chance to spread such a lovely bit of news,” she replied defensively.

  “Indeed not. But that’s left me with the task of having to share only the bad news with you. That’s why Connie’s not here to join in the celebration. I needed to speak to you all without her being present, and I would be grateful if you keep what I say from her for reasons you will soon understand.” Col’s ears pricked up. “The shape-shifting creature, Kullervo, has heard about Connie’s gift. In fact, he knew about her even before we did—and the sirens say he is coming for her.”

  Kullervo! Col was still reeling from hearing the name of the mythical creature, who, it was rumored, could assume any shape he wished. Ever since Col could remember he had heard his family mention that creature with awed fear. He knew that during the last World War, Kullervo had taken advantage of the chaos created by humanity and led an attack on the Society from the north, under the cover of war. He had wiped out nearly a generation of members of the Society as he directed his followers to turn on humans. Creatures loyal to the Society had eventually succeeded in stopping his forces on the edge of the Arctic Circle. Thankfully, the Society had managed to hide the two living universals from him so that he was unable to unleash his own formidable powers as he intended. Yet, the threat had never really gone away—“contained but not defeated” was how Col’s grandmother had described it—and she should know, for she was of the generation who had protected the universals by stopping him, and had lost many friends in the struggle.

  The happiness on Evelyn’s face drained away, replaced by pale fear. “So that’s why you asked me to keep a close eye on her until she met the Trustees,” breathed Evelyn. “And I thought it was just to stop her from trying to see the sirens again.”

  “There was that, too. We can’t risk letting the universal within a mile of followers of Kullervo. I hardly need tell you what danger he would pose to our world if he managed to persuade the universal to join his side. His power is locked in the mythical world—at the moment he uses others to do his dirty work for him—but with a universal by his side the door opens, and humanity would be hard pressed to survive his onslaught. It would be like the meteorite that brought an end to the dinosaurs.”

  Col put his cleats down, his attention now riveted on Dr. Brock’s earnest face. And he had been jealous of Connie! He now realized he should have been terrified for her.

  “That’s one reason why universals have always been so important to the Society. They are a blessing; but if they go wrong, they could be our curse.”

  “But la signorina, she no go wrong!” protested Signor Antonelli. “She is gentila.”

  Dr. Brock nodded his head in agreement. “Of course, Luciano, I have no fear of her: I fear for her. She is so young, so new to the Society. She can’t possibly be ready to hear all this about her calling. That is why the Trustees have decided that Connie should only be told in stages what she needs to know, so that she can be slowly prepared for the full truth. For now, she is aware only that it would be dangerous for her to meet him.

  “Therefore, we have to find him before he finds Connie. We must also ensure that he has no chance of meeting her—at least not until she has been fully trained to resist him.”

  Mrs. Clamworthy looked worried; the bubbles had gone from her champagne mood. “But how can we do that? There are no universals left except for Connie. None of us know their secrets.”

  “But we each know something about our own gifts: Connie can learn much from us. When she is ready, she’ll be given the key to the deeper knowledge of her company.”

  Evelyn, who had been silent for a long while, stood up suddenly. “I must go and fetch her. What if she’s under attack right now?”

  “No, Evelyn!” said Dr. Brock sharply. Mack, who was leaning against the back door, blocked her exit, and received a stony glare in payment. “You must not panic. The Trustees were quite clear that we have to let Connie live a normal life—as far as it is possible for a universal to live a normal life. Think, Evelyn: Kullervo will not attack her when she’s in the midst of other people—that’s not his way. He’ll be looking for an opportunity to get her when she’s on her own and vulnerable. We must not let that happen.

  “That’s why you’ve all been allotted tasks. Evelyn, obviously you must ensure that Connie is safe at home. Col,”—Col sat up with a start; he had thought that he had been completely forgotten—“you are to keep an eye on Connie at school. Signor Antonelli, if you ar
e willing to stay a little longer, we’d like you to lead a task force to deal with the sirens. We cannot risk letting Connie go out to them again, now that we know they’ve gone over to Kullervo’s side, but we still have to deal with the threat they pose to the refinery and to shipping.”

  “Certo,” agreed Signor Antonelli with a deep bow.

  “The rest of us are to participate in the hunt for Kullervo. Remember, we must all treat Connie normally. It seems we have a couple of months to prepare both her and ourselves—the sirens said that Kullervo was coming in the winter storms. We’ll have to make the most of the time that gives us. Do any of you have any questions?”

  Col had loads of questions buzzing around in his head. What was he supposed to do to protect her? He wasn’t suited to being a babysitter but it sounded very much as if Dr. Brock expected him to follow her every step. And what could he do if Kullervo did suddenly surface in the playground? How would he even recognize a shape-shifter?

  “Er, Dr. Brock?” he said, raising a hand.

  “Yes, Col.”

  “What do I have to do exactly—at school, I mean? I don’t even know what Kullervo looks like.”

  “As I said, treat her as normal but just look out for anything unexpected, anything suspicious. Make sure she’s not alone.”

  At least that last one was already covered: he never saw her out of the company of Anneena and Jane.

  “Okay,” he said with a shrug, though his casual demeanour hid an inner turmoil. He did not want to have to admit in this company that he had made a very bad start by falling out with the universal at the first opportunity.

  “Good,” said Dr. Brock, looking around the room at the sober faces before him. “If we all pull together on this, I’m sure we have nothing to fear. Remember, it’s still a great day for Hescombe—the first universal in a century, the first of the new millennium.”

  When Col arrived at school on Monday he had almost made up his mind to apologize. Despite having to bear endless discussion of Hescombe’s universal companion, he had felt the resurgence of his better nature and resolved to try to control his jealousy. It was a good thing the universal gift had come back; it was just bad luck that it happened to be his friend who had it, and not him. He now had a serious duty to perform to protect her; he should not waste time on petty quarrels, particularly now that he knew what was at stake.

  With these thoughts in mind, Col watched for an opportunity to say sorry as soon as possible. His resolve was strengthened by the fact that Connie looked quite miserable when she traipsed into the room and studiously avoided his eye. But before he could have a word with her, Anneena breezed in and barged her way between Col and Connie. She soon cheered Connie up with a torrent of stories about her weekend at a family party. Her sister, Rupa, had announced her engagement, much to everyone’s delight.

  Mr. Johnson came in carrying the attendance chart and the buzz of conversation died down. Always sensitive to the feelings of others, Connie noticed that the teacher wore a worried expression this morning. After checking off their names, he looked down at a sheet of paper and cleared his throat to speak.

  “Mrs. Hartley’s asked all the staff to make an announcement to our classes. We’ve had some good news.” He said these words in such a flat tone that Connie wondered why. “A rather unexpected development has taken place. It seems that the visit to Axoil by four pupils in this class has reawakened happy memories of Hescombe Primary School for Mr. Quick, the managing director. He has approached Mrs. Hartley with the most generous offer of a donation to redevelop our playground and install some state-of-the-art equipment.” An excited murmur ran around the class.

  “Mrs. Hartley hopes this will be the first step in a happy friendship between this school and the local business community.” Jane glanced at Connie and raised her eyebrows. It was clear what Mrs. Hartley hoped, but what about Mr. Johnson? “Every class has been invited to send in ideas for the new playground which will be built during the holidays. Mr. Quick himself will be here to announce the winning design at the end-of-term assembly.”

  Mr. Johnson glanced at his chart briefly before making the next announcement.

  “That’s all I’ve got to say on that, but could I see Anneena, Jane, Connie, and Col at break, please?”

  The four of them spent the first part of the morning wondering why Mr. Johnson wanted to see them. It did not take a genius to work out that it had something to do with Mr. Quick, but Col could not imagine what it would be. Staring at his math textbook, the numbers swimming before his eyes, he remembered what his father had said about Axoil being a cowboy outfit that liked to play dirty. Building a new playground seemed to suggest Axoil had changed. They’d surely only get a little local publicity for this, nothing that would really count? But then, they needed every positive story they could get now that Rupa had splashed the story about William O’Neill’s death over the front page. And when Col remembered the cold gaze of Mr. Quick, he could not swallow the explanation that “happy memories” were the reason. No, whatever was going on, Col would eat his flying helmet, goggles and all, if it was coming from the goodness of Mr. Quick’s heart.

  The bell rang for break, and the classroom quickly emptied as the children dashed outside to start planning their new playground. Col hung back, standing apart while the three girls clustered around Mr. Johnson’s desk.

  “Right,” said the teacher, “I want to have a brief word with you about the end-of-term display.” He paused, letting the meaning of his words sink in. Everyone in class had been working on a display to go up in the entrance hall to show what they had been doing as their project for the term. The four of them were putting together material on the local debate about the Axoil refinery, including their visit to the company.

  Anneena was instantly suspicious. “You’re not going to ask us to drop it, are you, sir?”

  Mr. Johnson shook his head but looked uncomfortable. “Of course not. That would be a deplorable thing to do. No, Mrs. Hartley has just asked me to ask you to make sure you stick to your theme about the impact of the refinery on the local environment. She wanted me to reassure her that you’ll take a balanced approach, which I said you would, of course. You must understand that she’s worried that Mr. Quick might be offended when he comes to the assembly if he sees something about recent tragic events or that shows his company in an overly negative light.”

  Col could not believe what he was hearing. Not that he had any intention of letting Anneena bring yet more attention to a subject that he wished she had left well alone.

  “He’s not going to care what some classroom display says about his company!” he burst out.

  “On the contrary, it appears that he does. The article following your visit has not passed unnoticed in the business press. I’m afraid he thinks that you’ve...er...complicated his life somewhat. I think he would like the opportunity to restore the balance with some positive news coverage. That’s why the presentation of the check and announcement of the winning design are going to happen in front of the local media.”

  It all began to fall into place for Col. Axoil’s publicity office had made a mess of the first interview; Mr. Quick was moving in to tidy up the public relations disaster and was doing all he could to control the event in advance. The local press would seize on any mention of the missing men by the children if it were prominently displayed in the entrance hall when they came to the presentation. Mr. Quick didn’t want that particular story to have a second airing.

  Mr. Johnson, looking round the little circle gathered at his desk, added hurriedly: “I promise you that I will put up whatever you feel you want to include. I just want you to understand that Mrs. Hartley—and I—expect you to take particular care that what you choose to display is accurate and fair to all concerned.”

  Anneena, Jane, and Connie nodded, more ready to trust Mr. Johnson than Col. He felt annoyed with them for this—and annoyed with their teacher.

  “It’s not fair!” he burst out rudely. �
�You know it’s not!” Axoil sticking its nose into their project was almost enough to make him think that Anneena and Rupa had been right to make life as difficult for Mr. Quick as they could. He turned on his heel and left the classroom, kicking the door open angrily. Mr. Johnson let this pass. Connie realized that the teacher must not feel too good about himself at that moment and probably part of him agreed with Col.

  “Sorry about that,” said Anneena primly, as unofficial leader of the project team assuming responsibility for Col’s behavior. “We’ll do our best, but we may not have a message that Axoil wants to hear.”

  Mr. Johnson sighed. “I know, but as long as you can show that you’ve tried to be even-handed, I’ll fight this all the way with Mrs. Hartley.” A combative light appeared in his normally mild eyes. “I will certainly not let our class display be chopped and changed just because some local benefactor might take offense. What sort of lesson would that be to teach you all?”

  The mood among the four when they continued work on their project was miserable. Col would barely talk to them, saying they had sold-out and he reacted angrily when Anneena told him not to be so stupid, pointing out it had been her and Rupa who had got the company on the run in the first place.

  “I wish I’d never started this,” Jane confided to Connie as they leafed through some photos of the Stacks. “I’m afraid my dad’s going to lose his job—and all because of me. He seems really unhappy at work now and won’t say why. It was okay before our visit to Axoil.”

  Connie secretly thought that no job at all must be better than working for Axoil—with Mr. Quick for a boss and the sirens after the employees—but she couldn’t say this to Jane.

  “If he loses his job,” Jane continued, “where else will he be able to find work around here? There’s not much work for an organic chemist in these parts outside the oil companies. We’ll have to move.”

  Guilt filled Connie. She did not want to be the cause of Jane having to leave Hescombe. They had already talked about going up to Chartmouth Secondary School together next year, about trying to get in the same class. It would be a disaster if their attempt to save the Stacks ended up forcing Jane’s family to leave.