by A. D. Winch
“Good work, Buddy. I know we had our disagreements over this, but those kids were a nuisance for you. As you said, you persevered, and you got them. On a personal note, I’m pleased because it means I can stop looking for tiny specks of skin. At my age, this is at best uncomfortable and at worst very painful. And if it means you are sending my dear colleague, Jean Kurtz, away from this base then you have my unequivocal support. I am sure she will be able to learn much from studying White King.”
When he had finished Professor Schwarzkopf even managed another smile.
Agent Angel smiled back, “I’m glad you’re supportive, John, because you’re going with her. Years ago, you started the work on Identical Hybrid Beings and by using White King’s DNA, you can damn well finish it.”
Professor Schwarzkopf managed to keep smiling, “Well I guess I can’t have my cake and eat it.”
He glanced briefly at Kurtz.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere in Europe or nearby, that’s for sure, as that’s where White King is now. I’m thinking Romania or Poland or possibly Morocco.”
“I haven’t been to Poland since the war,” Professor Schwarzkopf reminisced.
“Poland? Sounds good.”
Agent Angel slapped Professor Schwarzkopf on the back, causing him to cough.
“Kurtz, inform your motley bunch of so-called scientists. You’ll leave when I have made the necessary preparations.”
Jean Kurtz hurried out of the lab. Agent Angel marched after her, and Professor Schwarzkopf sat down by his pile of notes. He glanced over them and then tidily filed them away. As he did so, he weighed up the pros and cons of his new assignment. On the positive side, he would have access to the boy and might be able to protect him. If he felt the desire, he could even flee the site. He could then make his way easily back to his birthplace and from there try to locate Ingrid. He was sure that Agent Angel did not know about his parent’s empty house. However, getting off a military base would still pose some difficulties but without Buddy Angel around, anything could be possible.
His head was filled with a mixture of strong emotions. These dominated his thoughts. He stared at the closed pod and willed it to move. The ladder fell away. The stands, upon which it rested moved slightly, and the pod hovered just above them. This movement was so sudden and so unexpected that it distracted him from his thoughts. The pod silently returned to its position. Professor Schwarzkopf smiled broadly and continued to gather up his things.
Before he left the pods, he took his phone and sent an important and somewhat apologetic coded message.
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***
Chapter 28 – Retreat to Beach Cottage
The outhouse on the beach was barely recognisable. The roof had caved in completely; the walls had collapsed, and the glass windows had shattered or melted. Charred wood littered the ground, and the entire structure was now a smouldering pyre. Wisps of smoke hung just above the rubble, but there were no longer any dark plumes billowing into the sky.
Ursula did not know how long she had been in the bathtub. She blinked and looked upwards through the water. The sun was up, the clouds had passed over and the sky was light blue. She tilted her head to the left and right and saw that the building was gone. Even so, she refused to move.
A part of her wanted to feel happy that she was still alive, but she couldn’t. Guilt and gratitude gripped her in equal measure. Gratitude towards Eric because it seemed he had saved her from the OSS, if they had indeed gone. Guilt because she had argued with him. Obviously, he had been right, and this was their life. No longer would she have to worry about going to the shops or going to school or playing. Her only concern now was survival. The image of Eric being shot played in her head in slow-motion, and Ursula shivered in the tepid water.
The life raft from the Orca was bobbing towards the shore brought in on the morning tide. The red dinghy stood out against the dark sea, but there was no one in the bay to see it. A yellow tarpaulin covered the little boat and draped in the water.
The tide pulled the life raft on to the shore, and it scraped against the sand before coming to rest. For a while nothing happened, then the tarpaulin was gradually pulled back, and Alexander’s head tentatively appeared. He scanned the bay from left to right then did it again and again. After the third time, he jumped out of the dinghy and into the shallow water. Beneath the tarpaulin, squashed together like sardines, were the crew of the trawler and Andrea.
One by one they climbed out of the boat and stretched their cramped limbs before collapsing onto the sand. Andrea remained on the raft. She did not get out until the others had pulled it onto the dry sand and away from the breaking waves.
The crew from the Orca sat down together on the beach and looked out at sea. Each of them was trying to understand the events of the past few hours and trying to come to terms with their lost work.
Andrea walked purposefully over to them. She was wearing her leathers as usual and a New Model Army T-shirt.
“We cannot stay here,” she said.
“Where do you want us to go?” asked Captain Wang.
“We’ve lost all our work,” said Keiko bitterly.
“Our years of research,” Kim-Ly added, holding back the tears.
“And the Orca,” concluded Captain Wang.
“I’m sorry we got you caught up in this,” Alexander apologised and placed his hand on Arjuna’s shoulder.
Andrea did not offer any words of condolence nor did she apologise.
“The Meyer Foundation keeps careful track of all the projects it is involved with. It ensures that they are adequately insured. Every day, at one minute past midnight, the Meyer Foundation accesses every hard drive on every computer on-board the Orca. These are then backed up on the Meyer Mainframe. In addition, your trawler was fitted with a tracking device. This has plotted your movements continuously since you first took the vessel to sea. You have lost none of your intellectual property. You have only lost physical items, all of which can be easily replaced. The Meyer Foundation will issue you with new computers. These will contain your most up-to-date work. In addition, we will find you a more modern trawler to continue your research. Do you understand?”
The crew’s faces were hard to read. There was a mixture of relief, shock and anger in their expressions.
Captain Wang spoke first, “I am sure I can speak for all of my crew when I say we understand but…”
“…it’s wrong for you to keep track of us in such ways,” continued Keiko. “You’re just like all the other major corporations taking control of the world. You cheat, lie and swindle without any regard for the ‘little people.’ We should have been informed.”
“You were informed. In the contract you signed with the Meyer Foundation. Section four, paragraph two, clause one.”
“So you could legally steal what we have been working on!” Keiko said angrily.
“No,” replied Andrea, who looked almost puzzled. “According to Section four, paragraph two, clause one, ‘all data gathered by the Meyer Foundation is the sole property of the relevant parties. If the Meyer Foundation wishes to access the aforementioned data then written approval must be sought from the relevant parties.’ As I said previously, your work was backed up in case of an unforeseen eventuality. This was an unforeseen eventuality.”
The rest of the crew were pacified by Andrea’s words but Keiko still looked ready for a fight. Her pincer was opening and closing, and she was swaying left to right between her foot and false leg.
“But there has to be a catch. There is always a catch.”
Andrea thought for a second, “By ‘catch,’ I assume you are referring to an action you must undertake or not undertake in order to acquire the property that is rightfully yours.”
“This is exactly what I mean.”
“There is nothing you legally have to do, but there is something I would like you to do. Before we discuss this further, I would kindly request that we move somew
here more secluded.”
Without waiting for a response, Andrea walked past Keiko and towards the cottage. The crew picked themselves up from the sand and with heavy legs, but slightly lighter hearts, followed her in silence. Alexander stayed at the back.
The bay was empty of life apart from the six of them, but Alexander was not taking any chances. He removed a pen knife from his pocket and approached the raft. He repeatedly stabbed it until there was no longer any air inside and waves rolled over it. The deflated raft was cumbersome, but Alexander dragged it out to sea. When he was up to his neck, he let go and let it sink to the sea floor. He dived under the cold water, found some rocks and rolled them onto the red plastic and yellow tarpaulin. Once satisfied that it was secure, he returned to the beach.
There were footsteps in the sand leading from the beach to the cottage. Fortunately, there were already a large number of them all over the bay. Even so, Alexander searched the beach for a stick. He used it to rub out the steps they had all made as he walked towards the cottage.
On his way, he passed the smouldering remains of the outhouse. Charred wood was spread over a small area and amongst it was an old bathtub. It was covered in grey ash and had been blackened by smoke. It looked out of place in its surroundings.
Alexander tried to imagine what had happened here. He could still feel the warmth from the remains. It was possible that vandals had set fire to the building. However, he decided that this would have been a huge coincidence, and he never trusted coincidences.
The number of footsteps on an autumn beach, the sound of helicopters flying overhead while they were hiding in the life raft and the missing children, led to one conclusion – the OSS had been here before them. If this were true then it was likely that Eric and Ursula had been here too. If they hadn’t, the OSS would not have come here. This led to one last, depressing thought - if Eric and Ursula weren’t here then they had to be with the OSS.
Alexander looked once more at the smouldering remains of the outhouse. He wondered why the OSS would have set it on fire, and he trudged sadly towards the cottage.
It was an old building that nestled above the beach on an overgrown outcrop. The walls had been cheaply white-washed, but they were solid and bulged outwards. Small, panelled windows were sunk into the walls. Most were intact, but a few were broken where stones had been thrown. Behind one of the windows, and propped up against floral curtains, was a ‘For Sale’ sign. Above it all, was a grey slate roof with noticeably missing slates.
Alexander approached the wooden door and took hold of the brass knocker. As he lifted it, the door creaked on its hinges and opened. He admired Andrea’s handy work on the lock, ducked down and entered.
He found everyone in the old kitchen. White tiles were stained by age; there were no fitted units, and the room was dominated by a large range cooker. Arjuna was crouched down next to it. He had found some small logs and was trying to light them to heat up a boiling pan of water. In the corner of the room was an old cupboard displaying a selection of random crockery. Andrea was standing beside it. She was talking intently into her phone. Everybody else was sat around a heavy, wooden table on seats that were all different. Alexander joined them. He was soaking wet and dripping onto the terracotta-tiled floor, but he had other things on his mind.
“I see this place is For Sale and I…” he began but was cut off by Andrea, who placed her hand over his mouth.
When she had finished the call, she turned to Alexander.
“This house is not for sale. The Meyer Foundation is in the process of purchasing it through our law firm. They will handle all the paperwork, legalities and ensure that the transaction remains anonymous and is executed swiftly.”
“Super,” said Alexander and he genuinely meant it.
Andrea sat down on an old piano stool and put her smart phone on the table. It began to beep. On the screen, a small dot appeared on a map of the bay.
Everyone stared at the phone waiting for something to happen. Alexander reacted first. He seized the phone, jumped out of his chair and ran out of the cottage.
The flashing dot on the phone was not far away. The map led him back to the smoking embers of the outhouse. He approached and stopped four metres from the location of the dot. There was only the burned out remains of the building in front of him. Despite the fire having burnt itself out, there were still white-hot pieces of timber lying around. He could feel the heat from where he stood and suddenly realised that he was soaking wet and cold.
He stared at the debris but was unable to see any signs of either Eric or Ursula. An overwhelming feeling of helplessness and anger boiled up inside him. He kicked a small paint tin with all his might. The tin skimmed over the debris and clanged against the bathtub, sending yellow, emulsion paint everywhere.
Inside the bathtub, the sudden noise sent shivers down Ursula’s spine. She thought she was being fired at.
Alexander was about to kick something else when Andrea walked up beside him, took the phone and strode fearlessly amongst the remains of the building. She approached the bathtub and looked into it.
“Alexander, come here!”
He tiptoed through the burning embers to the bathtub. Inside he found Ursula. His first thought was that she had drowned, drowned in a fire, but then he saw the hose. It was attached to a pipe and also seemed fixed to her mouth.
Alexander bent over and lifted Ursula out of the water. She screamed and lashed out wildly, like a wounded animal. He could not pacify her and held her tightly in his arms as he carried her away from the remains of the inferno. Either through sheer exhaustion or a realisation of who was carrying her, she eventually calmed down when they neared the cottage. She wrapped her arms and legs around Alexander, rested her head on his shoulder and held onto him like a sleeping infant.
Andrea led them upstairs to a small room. A metal framed bed was in the corner with a quilted eiderdown, and two plumped up pillows. A crucifix hung above the bed and, even though Alexander was not a religious man, he prayed that Ursula would be okay.
He placed her gently into the rocking chair next to the bed and opened a wardrobe. On one of the dusty shelves, he found a large nightie and thick dressing gown. He placed them both onto the eiderdown and then left Andrea to undress Ursula and put her to bed.
While Andrea did this, Alexander searched the other bedrooms for clothes. He soon found himself a threadbare, seaman’s jumper, blue dungarees and a pair of knitted socks. For the first time in his adult life, he did not care how he looked.
When he returned to the kitchen table, Andrea was already there.
“How is she?” Keiko asked.
“In shock but she fell instantly to sleep,” Andrea replied. “After we have talked I will go and sit with her.”
“I can help if you would like,” Keiko offered.
“Thank you but it is fine. You need your rest too. Ursula will not have restful nor a pleasant sleep.”
“Poor girl.”
“Before I go upstairs, we must explain some points to you all. For your own sake, we cannot tell you everything but we need your trust. The children are gravely ill, and it is our hypothesis that they do not have long to live. We planned to find a cure for them on the Orca by collecting plankton and synthesising it. Unfortunately, our stocks have been destroyed although we can replenish them at a later date.
Alexander and I are the legal guardians of Eric Meyer. We also gave assurances to Ursula Benjamin’s grandparents that we would protect her. For reasons that we do not yet fully understand, an organisation with more power and more resources than us have been trying to kidnap the children. It is my assumption that they have a fifty percent success rate.”
Andrea stopped talking and looked at her smart phone. She tapped the glass and handed it to Alexander. Upon the screen was a flashing dot located in the south west of England. Alexander showed it to the others.
“How can you trace them?” Kim-Ly asked.
“I placed tracking devices into th
eir trainers. As I said before, the Meyer Foundation likes to provide as much insurance as it can.”
“You are efficient; that’s for sure.”
“Efficient yes, but we have still failed to provide effective guardianship or protection. As you can see from the GPS trace, my suspicions have been confirmed. Eric Meyer is no longer in our care. Despite this grave news, our situation in some aspects has improved. Our pursuers must believe we are dead. If they did not, then we would not be sitting here with Ursula asleep upstairs. This gives us some freedom. Unfortunately like all freedom it comes at a price and, to quote Miss Keiko, a catch. If you would agree to remain here willingly with us, for enough time as is necessary, then this would be of great assistance. It will help us in remaining undiscovered. It will also ensure that the organisation we are trying to avoid does not become suspicious.”
“How long is enough time?” asked Keiko. Her voice rose as if the idea excited her.
“Are we talking days or weeks?” questioned Captain Wang.
“At this stage I am unable to answer that with any degree of certainty. The most probable outcome will be weeks or months.”
Kim-Ly sucked in air and fidgeted in her chair, “What will we do during this time?”
“I can arrange for computers and any additional hardware to be delivered here. They will have all your data uploaded onto them plus any software you require. In this way, you can process your data, analyse your results, produce conclusions and write up your findings ready for publication. It is my understanding that you have yet to begin such a task. Your conversations on the Orca inferred this. During your time here, you can continue your work, and we can also source you a new vessel. The Meyer Foundation will pay for everything.”
