Axel turned to look up at Brian and smiled, ‘I’m coming, just let me get dressed.’
By the time Axel had dressed and joined Anubis on the sofa almost all the food and half the bottle of red wine had been consumed. He was convinced they had had sex but could remember virtually nothing about it. He sat watching his lover enjoy the rest of the food, his whole body glowing from the exertion of the bedroom. Suddenly a loud scream came from the corridor outside the apartment, almost immediately accompanied by the sound of hysterical voices. Axel stared at Brian, ‘What’s going on?’ Anubis knew exactly what was going on, somebody had discovered his crime scene. He got up and walked towards the apartment door. ‘Where are you going?’ Axel said, keen not to get involved.
‘I want to see what all the noise is about.’ Anubis replied, knowing that it would look suspicious if they stayed in the apartment.
As he opened the door he was faced by an agitated woman who had been about to knock on Axel’s door, ‘Monsieur! Il y a eu un meurtre, un meurtre terrible. S'il vous plaît, venez voir.’ Anubis tried to console the elderly woman who just kept repeating that there had been a terrible murder. She grasped his hand and led him down the stairs to Patti’s basement room. The doorway was surrounded by other tenants, some crying, others just staring in disbelief through the open door. The woman pushed her way into the room and, as she stood to one side, revealed the room’s interior to Anubis. Instead of the two bodies he had expected, there were three.
Patti no longer hung naked from the window but reclined fully dressed on the threadbare sofa, her face crudely made up to imitate her usual punk goth appearance. Lying with his face in her lap was a smartly-dressed man. He knelt motionless before her, his chest leaning against her knees, his right arm resting on the sofa next to her, still holding the black mascara wand he had been using to make up her eyes. Anubis glanced at the bed. Sven’s undiscovered body had been covered with the duvet and nobody seemed to be aware of it. ‘C'est Herr Bollinger. Il est propriétaire du bâtiment,’ the woman said in a low respectful voice explaining to Anubis that the body lying in Patti’s lap was that of their Swiss landlord.
The distant wail of sirens grew louder as several vehicles screeched to a halt outside the chateau. The silence in the room was broken by the clumping of military boots coming down the stairs; ‘Personne ne doit le déplacer!’ shouted the lead gendarme as he led his two colleagues into the room immediately followed by two SAMU paramedics.
32
Escape from Manhattan
Amy and Daniel were standing on the sidewalk outside their hotel. They could have been any other young couple visiting the Big Apple, dressed in jeans and hoodies, with backpacks slung over their shoulders. They both stood looking up, staring out of the screen of Mo’s digital workstation. Director Hedrick was irritated after being summoned, yet again, to Mo’s lab. ‘Are you sure these life forms are them?’ he snapped, studying the image intently, pressing the zoom-in key until Sally’s face filled the screen.
‘There’s no doubt about it, Director, it’s definitely them,’ Jessian replied reaching across the keyboard and typing in a command that changed the display to show columns of figures. She pointed to a group of numbers, tapping her claw against the glass of the screen, ‘Creationist essence characteristics are unique, Director, and these values match Amy and Daniel’s exactly.’ She pressed another key and the display changed to show the blue planet with a small, flashing, red dot at the edge of one of its land masses. ‘This is their location or it was during the drone fly-by.’ Mo was leaning against his workbench, happy to let Jessian do all the talking.
‘You said they were in danger?’ Hedrick asked.
She reached down and tapped the zoom-in key repeatedly until the south end of Manhattan Island filled the screen. The single red dot had now fragmented into two groups of two and three, all flashing in unison. Jessian pointed to the group of three, ‘Two of these are Amy and Daniel, the third is extra-dimensional, probably a ghost.’ Her finger slid across the screen, ‘These two appear to be subterranean.’ she was pointing at the Wall Street intersection. ‘The scan signal is too weak to get a definite reading but, at a guess, I’d say they were probably poltergeists or maybe angels, or maybe both.’ Hedrick rocked back in the chair. A poltergeist and an angel, that was a dangerous combination. The ghost with Amy and Daniel is what he expected but he would keep that to himself. Jessian turned and looked up at Hedrick, ‘The problem is that this data is already out of date, it was just a snapshot in time. The next drone flyby won’t be for days.’
‘Tell him the rest,’ Mo mumbled.
Hedrick spun the chair around, unable to stop himself reacting, ‘I think, Technician Mohammad, you meant to say, Tell Director Hedrick the rest!’ There was a tense silence as Hedrick cursed himself for being so petty. He sighed an apology, ‘Is there something else I need know?’
‘You’ll have to zoom out, Director.’ Hedrick turned back to the keyboard and tapped the zoom-out key until Manhattan shrank away and the screen was filled with North America. ‘More, much more!’ Mo said, pushing himself away from the bench and walking across to the workstation. Hedrick continued to press the key as the circumference of the planet reduced. ‘STOP!’ Mo shouted. The Earth was now a small sphere in the centre of the display.
Hedrick studied the screen. All he could see was the blue planet slowly rotating, ‘What is it that is wrong?’ he asked, turning to face Mo.
‘It’s not black, Director. Space isn’t black!’ Mo leant across Hedrick and tapped the edge of the screen with his index claw.
Hedrick looked back. Mo was right; the Space that surrounded the planet was more a yellowy grey than pitch black. ‘Was there a problem with the drone’s scanner? Are the other images distorted as well?’ he asked.
‘There’s nothing wrong with the image, Director.’ Jessian said, leaning over Hedrick’s other shoulder, ‘That light is coming from deep in the universe.’
‘So what does that mean?’ Hedrick snapped, irritated at being drip fed information again.
Mo pointed to a faint, yellow smudge in the corner of the screen. ‘It means that the extraction process has started, Director. These are galaxies being evaporated by the passing wave.’
‘It only takes a couple of SD years to extract a universe, Director. That means we’re going to run out of time,’ Jessian added.
‘This cannot be right!’ Hedrick blurted into the screen.
‘But, I’ve double checked the data, it’s definitely happening,’ Jessian said, confirming his worst thoughts.
‘The angel Haamiah promised me she would not do anything for twenty-four hours. She PROMISED me!’ Hedrick pounded the workstation keyboard with his closed fist, sending it skating onto the floor.
‘But… by the time the wave hits the planet… it will have been twenty-four hours, Director,’ Mo said tentatively.
‘NO! That was not the agreement!’ Hedrick yelled. Mo placed his hand on the Director’s shoulder trying to offer him some comfort, but it had the opposite effect. Hedrick leapt up from the chair and, pushing Mo back against the workbench, buried his fangs into his shoulder. Somehow Mo retained his composure and stood in silence, pinned against the bench, his eyes asking Jessian what he should do. After a few moments, Hedrick released his bite and slumped, head bowed, back into the chair. ‘I cannot lose Amy’, he said under his breath, ‘It must not happen again!’
Jessian took a tissue from a box on the workbench and dabbed away the blood from the fur around Mo’s wound. He flinched as she pressed the tissue against the punctured skin, glancing up into her eyes with a thankful smile. Using a length of insulating tape and a fresh tissue, Jessian engineered a make-shift bandage which she carefully applied to the wound. Mo walked back to his workstation. Hedrick sheepishly glanced up at him, his expression apologising. ‘We can only hope that Anubis’ plan works, Mohammad. At least it will get them out of this universe, they may even get back to Creation.’
As Amy and Daniel stood on the sidewalk outside the hotel they both felt impelled to look up as the scanning planetary drone flew by. ‘Did you feel that,’ Daniel said to Amy, ‘that tingle sweep through your body?’
‘What was it?… It sent a shiver right down my spine.’
‘That was a passing drone. We used to scan each other in the lab when we were testing different scanner designs. Once you’ve experienced a scanning wave, you never forget the feeling. We designed it to be undetectable in the Space Dimension but it has an effect on our essence that gives that tingling sensation.’
‘I wonder how long it will take Mo to find us?’
‘That’ll depend on Jess… it could take them hours.’
‘But our hosts will be dead by then.’
‘Don’t worry… there are billions of others we can inhabit.’
‘How long is Spiro going to be? I’m starting to get cold just standing here.’ Amy linked arms with Daniel and pulled herself in close to keep warm. As with the poltergeist, Orion, Amy had decided to name their ghost, and had called him Spiro.
The roads were still deserted with only the occasional emergency service vehicle passing by. Spring Street had an eerie silence about it and, for the first time, the birds that nested in the hotel’s facade could be heard chirping and singing. Suddenly the tranquillity was shattered by an ambulance careering out of a side street, its siren wailing and the lights flashing. The group of hotel guests standing on the sidewalk all turned to watch the ambulance approach. It accelerated towards them and, just as it was about to pass the hotel entrance, swerved onto the sidewalk, screeching to a halt alongside Amy and Daniel.
The cab door opened and a paramedic jumped out, clutching his resuscitation kit. He ran up to Daniel and, putting his arm around his shoulder, said in a reassuring voice, ‘You’ve had a heart attack, sir, don’t worry you’re in good hands now.’ He linked arms with Daniel and gently lowered him to the ground. The clattering of a gurney being dragged from the ambulance made the onlookers step aside. At first, Amy wasn’t sure which of the paramedics Spiro had possessed but then, as they lifted Daniel onto the gurney, the female paramedic winked at her as she called out, ‘Clear a path! We’ve got a sick man coming through.’ They loaded the gurney into the back of the ambulance and connected Daniel to the cardiac monitoring equipment; if his heart attack had been for real, he couldn’t have been in better hands. The male paramedic helped Amy into the rear of the ambulance then, closing the doors, returned to his cab. The engine started and the siren began to wail as the ambulance sped off down Spring Street.
Five minutes later they were on the Long Island Expressway with a bemused Brad driving the ambulance towards LaGuardia International Airport. Brad had worked with Trish for nearly ten years and had learned the hard way that when she said, drive to LaGuardia Airport, then, LaGuardia Airport was the destination. Trish was tall, built like an Olympic hammer thrower and twice Brad’s body mass. On one occasion, they had attended a domestic dispute on Staten Island, where the young Hispanic girlfriend of a New York cab driver had received a shattered jaw from a perfect left hook. But it was the cab driver who had arrived in ER first, with a fractured eye socket and most of his front teeth missing, after Trish had explained that he shouldn’t treat his woman that way. Every day working with Trish was exciting, with the dispatchers directing them to all the 911 calls where there was likely to be trouble.
Brad parked the ambulance outside the departures hall at LaGuardia Airport in a bay reserved for emergency vehicles. He opened the rear doors and helped Trish draw the gurney out onto the concourse. Daniel sat up, jumped off the trolley and handed the blanket back to Brad. Trish stood in a trance as Spiro left her body, watching Amy and Daniel disappear through the terminal doors. She turned to Brad, ‘What the FUCK are we doing here?’
The flight from LaGuardia to Washington DC took just over an hour and, by five-thirty that afternoon, Amy was checking them into a hotel on Massachusetts Avenue. The lobby was palatial with oak panelled walls and a high ceiling with crystal chandeliers. As they walked up to the reception desk every eye in the lobby followed the two dishevelled back-packers’ arrival. The room rate started at six hundred and fifty-nine dollars a night, with the President’s Suite priced at eight thousand dollars. Amy took the first choice, although with Daniel’s backpack stuffed with hundred dollar bills, they could have stayed in any of the rooms the hotel had to offer. The receptionist looked at Amy with suspicion as she filled out the registration card, ‘And how long will madam be staying?’ Amy turned and looked at Daniel who helpfully shrugged his shoulders.
‘We’re not sure, just a few nights.’
‘I need to know how many nights, madam. This is a very popular hotel.’
‘Three. Yes we’ll be here three nights.’
‘Can I scan your card, madam?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘Your credit card, madam. I need to scan it to hold your room.’
Daniel stepped forward and opening his backpack took out a sealed plastic pouch containing five thousand dollars in new hundred dollar bills, ‘Can we pay with these?’ he asked, sliding the pouch across the counter. The receptionist’s dislike for the couple intensified and she raised her arm, beckoning her manager to come to the desk. As he approached, Daniel could sense that Spiro was about to possess him, ‘NO!’ he shouted, making Amy jump and everybody in the lobby turn to look at him.
Fifteen minutes later Daniel gave the bellhop the usual hundred dollar bill for carrying their backpacks and suitcase to the room and closed the door. All three, Amy, Daniel and the ghost, Spiro, now incarnated as the bellhop, collapsed onto the bed exhausted.
The following morning Amy was sitting opposite Daniel and Spiro in a German cafe a few blocks down from the hotel. They had ordered breakfast from the menu, Daniel deciding on Groesstle, which described itself as a Bavarian-style breakfast of fried potatoes, dumplings, bacon and chicken topped with a fried egg and gravy, his decision being based purely on the mountain of food depicted in the menu photograph. Amy, on the other hand, had simply ordered yogurt with fresh berries and honey and a side order of buttered toast. Spiro had ordered nothing and sat next to Daniel incarnated as an adolescent female dressed in the uniform of one of Washington’s most prestigious girl’s schools, ‘What are we going to do now?’ she asked.
‘We need to tell Mr. President what Anubis is up to. When we’ve finished our breakfast, we’ll go and see him,’ Daniel said, spearing the last dumpling with his fork and forcing it into his mouth.
Daniel’s plan appeared straightforward to Spiro, but Amy wasn’t convinced, ‘We can’t just go and see him like that. You’ve seen him on the TV, he’s always surrounded by security guards. No, we need to research this carefully, like an Academy project.’
Three hours later Amy was paying for their White House tour tickets, handing two, hundred dollar bills to the sales assistant at the visitor centre. The tour didn’t start for another half-hour and they spent the time browsing the display of books and tourist trinkets on sale. Amy was engrossed in the pages of a thick volume entitled The White House 1792-2030 as Daniel returned, excitedly holding up the results of his research. He had found a porcelain plaque carrying a sketch depicting the exterior of the White House and its gardens. Without looking up, Amy said, ‘Did you know Mr. President’s house was built in seventeen ninety-two?’
‘Very interesting, Amy, but look what I’ve found. We can use it to navigate our way into his house.’ They agreed to buy both items, which Amy purchased using another hundred dollar bill. She hadn’t exactly grasped the concept of change yet, and assumed that whatever was left over from a purchase, was the tip.
The tour was a disappointment for Daniel as they had been denied access to Mr. President’s apartment and his oval office, the tour guide explaining that the First Family were in residence which, from Daniel’s perspective, was the whole point of them being there. He had asked the guide several times if he could speak t
o Mr. President as he had some very important matters he wished to discuss with him. His persistence only resulted in a stocky member of the house security staff shadowing him for the remainder of the tour. Amy, on the other hand, enjoyed their visit immensely, especially the first floor rooms. The Blue Room she found particularly beautiful and had stood for some time admiring the bust of Christopher Columbus carved by the eighteenth century sculptor Giuseppe Ceracchi. Her year four project at the Academy had been based around drone-inserted apparitions and she had used the Columbus apparition to explain the process. The only time Daniel showed any real interest was when the guide revealed the existence of a labyrinth of secret tunnels buried deep beneath the building.
Back at the hotel, Amy lay on the bed, framed between Daniel and Spiro, studying the book she had purchased from the visitors’ centre. Chapter one described how the construction of the White House was part of Pierre L'Enfant's plan for the newly established federal city of Washington. The architect for the project was chosen by way of a design competition, which included an anonymous submission by Thomas Jefferson. A shortlist of nine designs was drawn up and, after several days of argued debate, the contract was awarded to the Irish architect, James Hoban. Chapter fourteen detailed the reconstruction that took place under the Truman presidency. The building was thought to be in imminent danger of collapse due to decades of poor maintenance and the inability of the original wooden structure to support all the additions that had been built on. As an alternative to demolition, it was agreed that the building could be saved by replacing the original wooden beams with a modern steel frame. Chapter twenty-one was fascinating, full of before-and-after photographs showing the extensive redecoration of the house overseen by President John F. Kennedy’s wife, Jacqueline. The most important part of that chapter, for Amy, was the White House floorplans which included the second floor residence and the West Wing first floor, where Mr. President had his office. The final chapters detailed the history of the gardens, describing how they had changed from president to president; these included early pictures showing grazing sheep and armies of gardeners accompanied by their horse-drawn equipment.
Creation- The Auditor’s Apprentice Page 29
