She didn’t understand why the soldiers didn’t stop him. Was he working with them? She raised the gun, aimed it right at his chest — but she knew she would never pull the trigger.
So did Samuels; he reached Sarah and plucked the rifle from her hands.
“Everything is going to be all right,” he told her, taking her by the arm. Sarah allowed him to lead her back to the soldiers, eyes flicking to Danny and Lester, trying to make sense of it all. What was going on?
Then the truth began to dawn on her. She realised Samuels had never been interested in her ideas, had never thought she was right to go public. To him, she was just another way to get back at Lester.
“I thought you were smarter than this,” Lester said to her coldly.
“Sorry to have disappointed you,” she said.
“Samuels, let her go,” Danny said. “She doesn’t need to be a part of this.”
“But she already is,” Samuels replied, still holding her arm. “Aren’t you, Sarah?”
What could she say? She suddenly remembered the soldiers who’d died, fighting the crocodile-like creature when she’d arrived here. Did Samuels know about them yet?
“I got it wrong,” she told him. “Some of the soldiers died. I came to give myself up.”
Samuels patted her hand.
“I’m sure we can put right whatever it is. You and me together.”
Slowly, she nodded. Yes, she had to put this right.
“You see?” Samuels said to Lester. “Of her own volition, Sarah and I are going to preside over a new era of the ARC.”
“You’re insane,” Danny spat. The soldier kicked him again. He grunted, and Sarah flinched.
“Insane?” Samuels laughed. “Contrary to what James may think, I simply understand history. I’ve studied the facts. I know what’s meant to be.”
“But Cutter —” Lester began. Samuels cut him dead with a wave of his hand.
“The late-lamented Cutter,” he sneered, “devoted his entire life to discrepancies in the fossil record, dinosaurs turning up in the wrong periods. Yet he thought the anomalies were a new phenomenon and that they threaten time itself. They’ve always been here, James. It’s how it’s always been, creatures moving through history when and where they can. Even human history spells it out, through our myths and legends.”
He put an arm around Sarah’s shoulder. She managed not to flinch. He thought she was part of his grand scheme, and maybe she could use that. Besides, the academic in her wanted to hear what he had to say, and to understand how the myths all fitted in.
“Cutter,” Lester countered, “saw history change. That’s what drove him. He could see it unravelling in front of his own eyes.”
“Really?” Tom snorted. “I’ve read the files about Jenny and this Claudia Brown. What do you think is more likely — that he saw history change around that one particular person, or that he concocted the whole thing to make sense of his love life?”
Lester smiled thinly, but remained silent.
“I can prove the truth,” Tom continued, releasing Sarah so that he could gesture grandly. “This mine is proof. It’s very existence here explains one of the great scientific mysteries.”
“What would that be?” Danny scoffed. “Why there’s an industrial complex in the fossil record? You’re right, of course — I remember that from all of the college textbooks.”
Danny got up on to his knees. He did so warily, moving slowly lest he invite another kick. The soldiers kept their guns on him and wouldn’t let him move any further.
“That would be fun, wouldn’t it?” Samuels said. “It’s the oil itself that provides the answer. Science has never been able to explain how oil is created. Oh, we understand the source — it’s the pulp of decayed woodland. But it’s the process that’s confusing. Under biogenic theory, it’s always been assumed that the vast majority of oil was biodegraded by oil-eating bacteria. Yet a whole forest should produce many times the amount of oil we find in the seams.”
“And you have another idea,” Lester said dryly.
“The reason there’s not more oil is that this mine has mined it out,” Danny said.
“Clever boy — it’s the oil from this mine and the ones we’ve yet to build that create the gap. We’ve only just begun to explore the vast reserves sitting untapped in the different periods. But the geologic record proves that we succeed. Simply put, there’s no other explanation.”
“None that you can think of,” Lester corrected. “Your wanting it to be true doesn’t make it fact. These things need to be investigated — properly.”
“What you mean to say is that mankind is at risk unless you remain in charge,” Samuels replied.
“Well, I would have put it a little more modestly.”
“The anomalies can be exploited,” Samuels continued. “We’ve got a duty to do so. And it’s not going to happen on your watch.”
“Oh yes, I’d forgotten, you’re not doing this for yourself at all — it’s all from a sense of duty.” Lester looked as if he’d just found something distasteful on the bottom of his shoe.
“Why so cynical?” Samuels asked him. “You were meant to be a public servant, as well.”
“And you’ll note that I haven’t set up a project designed just to line my own pockets,” Lester replied.
Samuels chuckled.
“Poor James. When push came to shove, you ended up on the wrong side of history. This time I’ll get my way. I’m afraid, Sarah, we need to say goodbye to your former colleagues.” He put his arm back around her shoulder. “We won’t be seeing them again.”
She saw her moment.
“Let me do it.”
Samuels removed his arm and regarded her carefully.
“You mean that?”
She nodded, and managed to hold his gaze. At that, a smile edged its way slowly across Samuels’s face. She remembered how keen he’d been to show his trust before, when he’d urged her to vindicate Connor.
“I want to believe you’re on my side,” he told her.
“I’m not on anyone’s side,” she told him. “It’s about doing what’s right. Making the difficult decisions.”
She scowled at Danny, and saw a sparkle in his eye. Yes, he knew what she was trying to do. He knew he needed to play along.
“I’ve said it before,” Danny muttered to Lester. “She’s never really been one of the team.”
“It seems not,” Lester said, gently. His evident disappointment, though like knife twisting through Sarah’s gut, seemed to convince Samuels about her.
He handed her back the rifle.
“Take them out the back. We’ve an entire menagerie of creatures. Choose whichever one you like, but leave enough to be identified.”
It was the ultimate test of her loyalty to him. She nodded. “Sir.”
Samuels turned to Lester.
“You see? Sarah understands that this is all already written in history.”
Lester said nothing.
Sarah spun round and kicked Samuels in the groin. He fell back with a howl of pain, crashing onto the floor. She jabbed the barrel into his neck.
The soldiers ran forward but Sarah stood firm.
“Don’t,” she said. “I’ll shoot him.”
“Keep back,” Samuels said through gritted teeth. He was fuming. “Don’t make her do anything stupid.” He glared at Sarah. “You’ve made the wrong choice,” he told her. “I am doing what’s right, making the difficult decisions.”
“I almost believed you,” she said. “I thought you offered us something better. But it just didn’t add up.”
Again the soldiers took a step forward, eager to help their boss. Sarah, her hands shaking, released the safety on the shotgun. Samuels held up a hand to stop them.
“No, it has to be like this,” he answered in a strangled voice, his face pale, almost green. “The fossil record is proof.”
“It is proof,” Sarah agreed. “But the first indication that your conclusion is wr
ong is when it says what you want to hear. Yeah, history suggests there have been anomalies dotted all through time. But it also shows us the terrible cost they inflicted: mankind beset by monsters.”
“But we have the technology to combat those things. It’s what the ARC is already doing. I’m just showing you how the anomalies can also be used to our advantage.”
“No, you want us to become the monsters, pillaging through time. I thought you were offering us a future, but you just want to burn the past.”
Samuels started to get to his feet.
“Don’t,” Sarah told him. “I will shoot you.” She glared at the soldiers to emphasise her point.
Samuels looked at her, fear slowly being replaced with contempt.
“You? You’re not a killer.”
“I just killed two men,” she said, unflinching.
He hesitated then, teetering on one knee.
“Shoot him,” Lester told her. And for a moment she thought that she might.
“We’ve got to stop them,” Danny said desperately. “We’ve got to stop them from firing at Abby and Connor.”
She glanced at the sixth screen, and saw Connor and Becker in the midst of the barrage, building some kind of contraption out of rope and planks of wood. A missile landed somewhere close, and she lost sight of them in the explosion.
She stared, horrified.
Had they just been killed?
Samuels reached forward and grabbed the rifle from her once more. Then smacked her with it.
Sarah collapsed onto the ground, sobbing. Danny tried to run to her, but the soldiers holding him struck him with their rifles, knocking him to the floor again.
“She’s made her decision,” Samuels said. “Take her and Quinn outside, and let one of the creatures have them.”
“I’m sorry,” Sarah told Danny as they were dragged to their feet.
His lip was bleeding and he was covered in dust, blood, and bruises.
“It’s okay. You’re better than this lot.”
“No, she’s weaker,” Samuels retorted. “And soon she won’t even be that.”
“Better,” Danny insisted. “You might have an army and this mine, but Sarah says you’re wrong, and you’re too stupid to hear her.”
Samuels stepped forward and punched him in the chest. Danny doubled over; he would have collapsed had the soldiers not held onto him.
Lester spoke up.
“At the risk of sounding like a cliché, you’re not going to get away with this, Samuels. Questions are always asked. Every politician who thinks they can cover something up gets ruined in the end.”
“I can see it now,” Danny said, gasping in pain. “‘Murder and scandal involving a dreary civil servant.’ It’ll make all of the papers.”
Samuels smiled icily at them.
“Very amusing.” He held his hand up, gesturing to the soldiers leading them out. “Wait a moment.” He tapped the sixth screen of the ADD. “Your friends are being picked off on the hill outside. When you’re all dead, we’ll continue to deal with the creatures, and we’ll exploit the oil, which will mean an end to the energy crisis. Do you really think anyone is going to ask questions when we start delivering what they need?”
“They’ll catch up with you,” Lester said. “It might take time, but they will.”
“But they’ll have to find me first. There’s nothing that leads to this place but the anomalies — no paper trail, no records. I’m invisible to the twenty-first century, except when I choose to be seen. And with this —” he patted the computer bank running beside the ADD “— I can pop up whenever and wherever I like. They can’t touch me. But they’ll want my oil.”
“You can control the anomalies,” Danny said flatly.
“Didn’t I say? While Lester insists on finding ways of controlling what you’ve found, I’ve been working on exploiting your discoveries. The government won’t keep on doling out millions of pounds to you without expecting to see some kind of return.”
“And so you’ve got plenty of investors,” Lester said. “People willing to help you, in return for a share in your success. Like the game park.”
“The game park needs money and political backing, which I can provide. Some of the keepers objected to the regime change, but when the ones we couldn’t buy off met with unfortunate ends, it was amazing how quickly the rest came round. It’s a dangerous job, working with big game, as you’re about to find out. Killed in the line of duty, I’m afraid. You just ran out of luck.”
He nodded to one of the soldiers.
“Take him out with the other two. I’ve had enough of him now.”
Lester was escorted by two armed soldiers to join Danny and Sarah at the swing doors. He walked easily, as if out for an afternoon stroll. They had no plan, no way of escape, no chance against so many soldiers, but his eyes burned with anger and defiance.
Danny reached out to take Sarah’s hand, but the soldiers jostled them apart as they led them out. Sarah looked around at Danny and smiled. Whatever happened, they were in this together.
And then a huge explosion threw them off their feet.
THIRTY-ONE
Another missile crashed down into the already churned up earth. Mud and stones burst up into the air, raining down hard on the team as they worked frantically.
Two soldiers held onto the contraption of wood and ropes, their eyes on the missiles and mortars as they soared across the sky towards them. They hoped to be able to move should anything come too near, but the more they stood out in the open, the more the odds stacked against them.
Connor and Becker needed to finish this fast.
They had bodged together an A-shaped frame, with a long plank pivoting over the top of it. At one end of the plank they’d nailed a bucket, which now sat up high in the smoky sky. A line of rope snaked down from the bucket, swinging at shoulder height. Becker was busy trying to fix a busted car engine to the other end of the plank where it rested on the ground. Connor looked over, appraising his efforts.
“We need more tension. If we can weight the end of the plank down...”
“Too much weight and it’ll snap,” Becker responded, muttering at the exertion, his face shiny with sweat.
“We’ve only got one chance at this. We’ve got to make it count.”
“Yeah, but we don’t want it to come down on top of us.”
“Haven’t you two finished yet?” Abby demanded, lugging over a large cardboard box that had seen better days.
“Getting there,” Connor replied. Another mortar burst further up the slope and they flinched as more mud pattered down on their heads.
“They’re getting closer,” Becker said, not looking up. “If we’re lucky, they need three more shots before they hit us.”
“Well, come on then! Let’s do it now.” Connor ran to the rope that was hanging from the bucket on the high end of the plank and tugged on it. Even lifting his feet off the ground, the plank refused to budge.
“The engine’s too heavy!” Connor exclaimed, his feet swinging in the air.
Becker and one of the other soldiers rushed over to help, and between the three of them they hauled the plank down, the far end with the engine attached to it heaving up into the sky.
“Quick, Abby!” Connor yelped, his whole body straining to keep hold of the rope.
She reached into the battered box she was holding and with a knife began hacking at the contents. Then Connor and the others were met with the rich stink of catnip. Grey-green dust sparkled in the air. Satisfied, Abby wedged the whole box into the bucket as they held it for her.
“We should test it first,” Becker said, teeth clenched with exertion.
Connor shook his head.
“No time. And I don’t think this thing will manage a second go.”
Abby finished filling the bucket with open, seeping packets of catnip and stepped back.
“All right,” she shouted over to them.
“On three,” Becker said. “One... Two.
.. Three!”
The rope wrenched away from them as Connor, Becker and the soldier let go. The weight of the engine brought the far end of the plank hurtling back down into the ground, where it thwacked into the earth so hard the last third of the plank snapped. The bucket on the other end heaved up and over, hurling the open packets out into the sky, high over the top of the plain.
They scattered wide as they arced up through the smoke and contrails of the missiles, streaming their own trail of dust behind them. They began to descend slowly, heading towards the mine. Connor thought he saw one bounce off the wall of oil barrels, and another fall in among the anti-tank guns. The rest must have landed nearby.
“Damn,” Becker said, watching through binoculars. “That will have to do.”
Connor turned to say something, but was silenced by a rumble of thunder. Abby grabbed him by the shoulder.
“We need to get out of the way,” she said urgently.
Connor looked up to see the herd of Sauroposeidons racing down the plain towards them. They lowed and grunted with excitement, hunger gleaming in their eyes, having picked up again on the scent of catnip. Nothing would get in their way.
Connor, Abby and the soldiers threw themselves out of the path of the herd. The missiles and mortars kept coming, sailing over the tops of the dinosaurs’ long, slender necks and thudding down near the humans.
At first motivated by simple hunger for the weird-smelling stuff, now the dinosaurs were gripped by panic. They raced away from the explosions, faster than before, dragging their legs through the thick mud.
“Down!” Becker yelled and they threw themselves over the lip of a missile crater.
Behind them their makeshift catapult took a direct hit, scattering sharp, burning splinters. Connor held Abby close, trying to protect her. He looked up to see Becker checking on his men. He hadn’t made it into the crater in time, and his body armour was bristling with spikes, the shrapnel from the blast. For a moment Connor thought he had been terribly wounded. But while the splinters had got through the fabric of his flak jacket, they hadn’t pierced the armour underneath.
Fire and Water Page 22
