3

by James Phelan

  The Osiris shook as the arms were knocked sideways from the movement of the shifting U-boat.

  “Hans,” Alex said. “What are we doing?”

  “This,” Hans said. The vision in front of them erupted in a shower of bright blue bubbles again as the blowtorch cut through an internal door. “Use your claw to attach and pull the door away.”

  “OK,” Alex said. The bubbles disappeared and he manoeuvred the arm to the door, clasped the handle and started to retract the arm. “It’s not working! It’s stuck tight.”

  “One minute!” Karl called out.

  “Give us full thrust away from the U-boat!” Hans called out. “Alex, hold the grip tight.”

  The Osiris’ thrusters worked as one, biting into the water with all their power and driving them away from the old submarine.

  A long, squeaky, tearing noise travelled through the water and echoed into their hull, like a giant beast howling in the water as the metal of the door tore away.

  “That’s it!” Hans said. “Take us closer and keep her steady!”

  “I’m trying but we’re fighting the up-current!” Karl said, wrestling with the controls as the Osiris jerked in the water.

  Hans guided his clawed arm through the open doorway and into the captain’s quarters, the footage from the mounted camera showing a clouded view as the movement of the old wreck disturbed many decades of silt. “Alex—keep the pressure on that door.”

  “I got it,” Alex said, watching Hans’ monitor, the German guided by the quickening bleeps of the Geiger counter to find his way.

  “Thirty seconds!” Karl said. “We pull away in thirty. The sub is going to go over the edge!”

  “Got it!” Hans said. The video feed showed the face of a steel safe, the size of a household microwave, against a wall. The claw latched onto it, and Hans shifted it back.

  The vault didn’t budge.

  “Alex, I need your help with this!”

  Alex manipulated his mechanical arm so that it kept the door propped open with one of its two elbow joints, while the claw shot forward and gripped next to Hans’.

  “That’s it, Alex!” Hans said. “On my mark, drag the safe back with me. Three, two, one—now!”

  Alex pulled back on the claw controls and the safe pulled free, the bolts tearing from the floor as though it were made of cardboard.

  “Twenty seconds and we’re outta here!”

  “Almost there. This is heavy, help me out with it, Alex!” Hans said. They used both claws to remove the safe. “Got it. Give us full thrust away!”

  The thrusters whined in unison, their power at full throttle and the Osiris shuddered against the strain.

  CREEEEEAKKKKK!

  The old U-boat tilted on its side as the small sub moved away from it. Both crafts shifted as one, tilting further toward the abyss, the U-boat nearly on its side and the Osiris under it, as though hanging on upside down. Alex and Hans had their feet pressed against their side of the hull.

  “More thrust!”

  “We’re trying!” the co-pilot said.

  WHOOSH!

  As more air left the buoyancy tanks, the Osiris sank.

  SNAP!

  “Get us away from the wreck!” Hans yelled.

  “We’re outta here!” Karl said. He engaged full thrust to get away from the craft, so much so that they were now falling faster than it was. “We’re getting free. Now dropping weights for rapid ascent.”

  “Alex,” Hans said, “keep the claw arm clear as we—”

  The U-boat shifted further on its side and slid down the ridge—right on top of them.

  Hans’ claw remained on the steel handle of the safe and carried its weight, quickly bringing their cargo toward the Osiris, while Alex’s mechanical arm was caught inside the wreck.

  “It’s stuck!” Alex said.

  “Detach the arm,” Karl commanded.

  “Ditch it!” Hans said.

  “How?”

  Hans hit the emergency release button—but it was too late.

  The Osiris rolled in the water, the claw still inside the U-boat, tearing it off. The sub rocked and rolled.

  Alex, unharnessed, was thrown around like he was inside a washing machine. He hit the control panel screen in front of him. As he slid into unconsciousness, the last thing he heard was the Osiris’ emergency alarms blaring.

  28

  EVA

  Eva closed the vault door behind her and spun the dial, turning it from green back to red. The Gear, the smallest she’d yet seen and made up of two pieces, was now hanging on her dreamcatcher necklace, woven in tightly to the charm, almost a part of it.

  Looking for another way out, she opened the door at the far side of the vault. A small corridor led to some kind of recreation room, with bathrooms, couches, a tabletennis table, television and vending machines. The only other door from there led back to a ramp that headed down to the steel bridge.

  OK, so one way in, one way out.

  Looking back the way she came on the bridge across the water, the place seemed deserted.

  Eva was exhausted. Her feet felt like heavy weights. She could no longer sprint and could barely jog.

  Come on, Jabari, where are you?

  Eva started walking, her feel clanging quietly on the steel.

  She stopped.

  There were other footsteps. Someone was coming up from the bridge but she couldn’t see anyone.

  “Jabari?” she whispered.

  No, he wouldn’t approach her invisible like this.

  It must be Stella!

  Eva turned and ran back, thinking maybe she could climb one of the steel ladders she’d seen that led up to a vast ledge holding huge concrete water tanks.

  Behind her, the clanging of running feet continued.

  Panicked, Eva looked around.

  Stella was still nowhere to be seen.

  “Don’t hide from me like a coward!” Eva shouted defiantly.

  “I’m not,” Stella said up close.

  Before Eva could react—she was knocked to the floor.

  Stella stood in front of Eva, her arms crossed, her face pulled sharp. She was swinging Eva’s dream catcher necklace idly from one hand. Eva forced herself not to look at it.

  She’s already got what she wants and she doesn’t even know it.

  “We can make you talk,” Stella said, a tight smile on her face. She opened a briefcase and removed a headset, holding it out for Eva to see. “This passes a current to the prefrontal cortex, which then overrides your brain. We increase the plasticity of your brain, make your synapses fire faster and open a gateway for us to see into. Want to try it out?”

  Eva remained silent.

  “We can get deep into your mind with this, in ways you will not enjoy.”

  Eva looked away.

  “Last chance,” Stella said, taking the few steps toward Eva and crouching down so that she was level with Eva’s face. “Tell me about your dream, tell me about the Gear, or things get messy. If I have to go in that head of yours and dig, you’ll start getting all kinds of weird memories.”

  “Get messy?” Eva said, defiant. “What, you’re going to spook me with your boring, predictable attitude and bang on about how you want to rule the world? Please. Go bully someone else.”

  “Eva, Eva, Eva,” Stella tutted, standing up and flicking a button to change the image on the screen. “Do you recognize this place?”

  Eva looked at it. It seemed to be footage from a video camera. The view was of an abandoned military installation of some sort. Stella touched another button to show a new view from on high, looking down at a crumbling ruin of a city.

  “No? How about these images?” Stella scrolled through different camera angles.

  Eva recognized none of it. The state of decay of the place was odd. It looked maybe twenty or thirty or forty years old, no older, the forests that surrounded it slowly taking it over. Roads were split with tall trees growing through the cracks. Most of the windows in the
buildings were broken. It was deserted—a ghost town.

  “How about this one?” Stella said.

  The next image showed a group of people moving through the streets. They were walking a tight formation and they had weapons. There were maybe twenty people. The camera zoomed in on the group.

  First there was Lora’s face, then Xavier’s and the Egyptian Guardians.

  “It’s Chernobyl,” Eva whispered.

  Xavier? What’s he doing there?

  “Very good,” Stella said. “Now, would you like to talk, to tell me everything about your dreams, to save your friends?”

  Eva watched as the group were slowly nearing the first building Stella had shown her—a dull grey metal military structure. That’s where Lora and the others were headed.

  “You tell me what I want to know,” Stella said, “and they can leave in one piece. You don’t talk? Well, you can see what will happen to your friends, yes?”

  The image changed to a new vantage point—this one showing a large group of people, at least fifty or more. Some in vehicles, and all with weapons. These were Stella’s remaining Agents. Ready and waiting for her friends.

  Lora, Xavier … they’re walking straight into a trap.

  29

  XAVIER

  Xavier checked his radioactivity badge for what felt like the millionth time. It still showed yellow, which was not as good as the green it had showed a few hours ago when they’d entered the site. But at least it wasn’t orange or red.

  When it gets to red, I’m outta here, no matter what’s going on. I don’t care what my dad thinks. Safer with Lora? Maybe, but not this time.

  “Up here!” A squad of the Egyptian Guardians called out to them.

  The Egyptian Guardians are mean machines, we’ll be OK.

  Xavier and Lora jogged up the block to join them.

  “There’s no movement we can detect,” the squad leader said.

  “OK,” Lora replied. “Take your team to the control room and rig it up, and have the second squad move through and place charges all along the structure, starting at the first joint up there.”

  She pointed up high. The thing was enormous. A metal wall of steel beams and girders and wires, bigger than any of the long-abandoned apartment towers around here.

  Maybe it’s the biggest antenna in the world … it’s just that no one’s been anywhere near it for decades. Until recently.

  “And have the third team move in with the vehicles and wait for us all back at the entry point,” Lora said, “so we can meet the others on the road and get out of here by the time it blows.”

  “Got it,” the team leader said, and he spoke rapidly into his tactical mic.

  “Set all charges for thirteen minutes,” Lora added with a smile.

  “Thirteen minutes, copy that,” he said, leading off with his three colleagues, running toward the antenna control tower.

  “Thirteen minutes?” Xavier said. “That’s a nice touch.”

  “I thought so.”

  “Stella’s really tapping into the Dreamscape with that?” Xavier asked.

  “Yep,” Lora said. “Least, she’s trying to, and will be able to soon.”

  “What happened here?” Xavier asked. “Like really, not what they tell you in history class.”

  “They amped up the power so much, trying to make the system read dreams on a global scale, it blew the reactor core.”

  Xavier shuddered. “This place really creeps me out.”

  “It’s called Chernobyl-2, but we used to call it the Steel Yard,” Lora said, looking up at the structure. “Back when I was a kid, I heard my parents talking about it. It was part of the Russian version of the Enterprise, long gone these days,” Lora said.

  Xavier looked up at the scaffolding, seeing the ground team lacing the metal uprights with sticks of dynamite. He checked his radioactivity reader again.

  Nearly at orange.

  “Relax, we’ll be out of here soon,” Lora said.

  They walked to the centre of the road and looked up at the crew moving their way along with the explosive charges.

  “And you’ve been here before?” Xavier asked.

  “Yep,” Lora said. “My parents brought me here once.”

  “That’s some family vacation,” Xavier chuckled, looking around.

  Lora laughed. “It wasn’t like that. They wanted me to see with my own eyes what had happened here. It’s a strong example of how sometimes Dreamers’ ideas can get the better of them.”

  “What is it?” Xavier said, aware that Lora looked suddenly on alert.

  “It’s quiet,” Lora said.

  “It’s a nuclear wasteland,” Xavier said. “What are you expecting, a parade?”

  “Something doesn’t feel right. Come on, let’s take a closer look around.”

  30

  SAM

  It had been several hours of flying south and two refuels since Sam had said goodbye to Malcolm, and he thought back to their final conversation, when they’d said goodbye at the beach.

  He remembered Malcolm telling him about the sacred site, and how he was a part of the last people to keep hold of what used to be the “old way.”

  “Old way?” Sam said.

  “We all used to be Dreamers, a long, long time ago.”

  “How long?”

  “Longer than you or I have been around,” he smiled. “Longer than our people as we know them have been around.”

  “Really?”

  “Our ancestors, those who came before my people. A mighty race.”

  “Where’d they go?”

  “Ice age hit. The world changed. Races migrated and all that.”

  “Who built this?” Sam asked.

  “Not my people. It’s far older than that.”

  “Older? Your people have been here for thousands of years.”

  “This is an ancient land—older than any of us. These carvings show that a battle between good and evil played out far earlier.”

  Henk, the pilot, broke Sam out of his daydream. “So you think your friend Eva is walking into a trap, eh?” he said.

  “Yep,” Sam said.

  “Well, you’re just gonna have to save her, then,” Henk said.

  “That’s right.”

  “But all on your own?”

  “I don’t have any other options right now,” Sam said.

  “What can I do to help?”

  “Help?”

  “I saw you in the news,” Henk said. “I reckon I believe all that stuff you said, at the UN. Helping you out is the least I can do. Maybe it’s my destiny, right?”

  Sam looked surprised.

  “I’ve always been good with faces,” Henk winked.

  Sam smiled. “You could create a diversion for me.”

  Henk smiled back. “You got it. Whatever you need, mate.”

  “In that case …”

  The compound was a speck on the horizon. The sun was low and the huge white domes reflected the last remaining light. Henk explained they were called radomes—protective coverings for the equipment underneath, which were probably huge radar dishes.

  “Do you really think there could be underground water out here?” Sam asked, skeptical of his dream. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but dry earth and sparse patches of green scrub and trees that had adapted over millennia to the arid environment.

  “I reckon there’s water under there alright,” Henk said. “A whole boatload of it. If water comes down from up north and out east and forms an underground water table, it could be big, real big.”

  A warning light on the helicopter’s dash lit up and started to beep. “OK, mate, it’s a no-fly zone from here,” Henk said. “I’ll circle around the edge of it.”

  “You know, I’ve got a better idea.”

  “I can’t go in there. They’ll shoot us out of the sky before we have time to argue with them,” Henk said, banking the chopper to the right. “I’ve heard stories about this place. Looks like you�
�ll need to go under it. Walk in, or hitch a ride, but it’s a long way, and it’s going to be a hot night.”

  “You don’t need to enter the restricted airspace. Just take us up as high as possible and let me know when you need to turn back,” Sam said, climbing between the chairs and into the rear cargo hold.

  “What are you going to do?” Henk asked. “Jump out?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” Sam said.

  The wind buffeted inside the cabin.

  Sam looked to Henk, who shook his head like Sam was nuts—jumping out without a parachute.

  Sam gave a thumbs up, smiled, looked out the doorway and jumped.

  Wind pummelled Sam’s face. He spread out his arms and changed his Stealth Suit to the same kind of BASE jumping wing-suit he’d created at the Eiffel Tower.

  In Paris, I had Zara hanging on and we still managed to glide down and land on a moving bus.

  I’ve just got to get me down to the ground this time—should be a piece of cake.

  Looking over his shoulder, he saw Henk peeling away. Now he just had to fulfil his part of the plan and create a good diversion at the other edge of the no-fly zone.

  Sam figured he was gliding down through fifteen hundred metres when he started panicking.

  Not because of the height, but because of the flash he spotted at ground level.

  The plume of a missile came streaking up into the sky, clearly homing in on him.

  What!?

  Sam closed his arms and legs, making himself smaller and more streamlined. With minimal wind resistance, he was now falling like a bullet, the air pounding against his face and shoulders.

  The missile was nearing.

  Three seconds.

  Wait for it …

  Two.

  Sam threw open his arms and legs and his fall immediately slowed.

  One—

  WHOOSH!

  The missile flashed by, the heat of its rocket engine searing him.

  That was close!

  He was surprised he’d been a big enough target to lock onto.

  Sam looked over his shoulder. The missile was turning in a big, wide arc through the air and heading straight back.

  For him.

  It’s picking up my body heat.