RACE AMAZON: Maelstrom (James Pace novels Book 2)

by Andy Lucas

  ‘Sarah!’ Pace called after her. ‘Sarah. Are you okay? What do you see?’

  Her voice sounded distant when she replied but filled with relief. ‘Get on up here. We’re going to be alright. Come on.’

  Pace shinned up the increasingly flimsy trunk until he was able to push his head through the final scattering of leaves, out into the full force of a spectacular tropical storm. Rain hammered onto his face and lightning flashed with stunning magnificence across the darkening sky, illuminating very clearly the simple truth behind Sarah’s words.

  18

  What Pace saw took a few seconds to sink in and he actually forced himself to blink hard against the storm, just in case the sight vanished before him.

  For what he saw was a huge airship, shaped like a ring donut instead of the more traditional cigar. The ring stretched over one hundred feet in diameter and stood some thirty feet high. The skin had been carefully painted in various uneven shades of green and light brown, to camouflage it from snooping eyes in the sky above.

  The strangely shaped gas envelope was stretched taut and looked to be in perfect condition, with no sign of any tears or leaks. The ring floated about eighty feet above the treetops and sat fifty feet over to his left, but was completely invisible to anyone looking down on it, even by satellite, such were the specialist materials used for the envelope.

  Plastic-coated steel cables sprouted from hard points all around the bottom circumference of the balloon, tethering themselves to a large disc-shaped structure that hung twenty feet below it. The disc was as wide as the balloon and built to the height of a single storey; perhaps fifteen feet in uniform height across the entire disc.

  It too was painted in a camouflage style, with the exception of the entire outer rim, which was made of a slightly tinted, clear material. Pace couldn’t tell if it was glass or plastic from where he gripped the dangerously swaying upper branches but it looked like a single, continuous passageway that ran right around the circumference of the disc.

  A nylon rope bridge, complete with guide ropes for handholds, reached from the top of his tree up to a small platform built centrally into the underside of the research base. The whole base appeared tethered by several more of the plastic sheathed steel cables, to the tops of a dozen nearby trees, including his, where each end was firmly secured with a metal bracket.

  The trickiest bit was manhandling himself off the moving tree and onto the bridge. Once that was done, the climb itself was fairly easy, moving up at about forty-five degrees. The rain battered him but it fell fairly straight and he was soon standing on the solid metal of the platform floor, a little less than sixty feet above the carpet of treetops below.

  The platform itself resembled a ten-foot square elevator car, bolted underneath the base, open to the elements on one side only. A small hatchway was sunk into the roof of the platform and would take them, Pace assumed, directly inside the base once they were all gathered together again. It was firmly closed and sported a naval-style, centrally positioned wheel lock. Sarah was there to greet him, smiling broadly.

  The platform was large enough to take everyone and they waited until everyone completed the climb over the rope bridge before thinking about the hatch. Baker took charge immediately that they were all together. Leaving two of his men to guard the civilians and the platform, he spun the wheel on the hatch, which moved easily.

  Pushing it open, the hatch opened upwards ninety degrees before coming to rest. Some form of magnetic latch engaged with a dull thud and it stayed open. The hole it left was dark but a quick flash of Baker’s torch, inbuilt into the barrel of all the automatic weapons sported by his men, revealed the bottom rungs of an extendable metal ladder. This one was made from aluminium and was quickly pulled down to the floor of the platform.

  Baker went up first, followed by seven soldiers; the remainder of his command, not counting the two soldiers left to guard the platform. They were gone for at least ten minutes before one of the soldiers reappeared and gave the go ahead for everyone else to climb aboard. The two soldiers guarding the bridge were ordered to remain where they were.

  The ladder climbed out of the platform and deposited the eager explorers inside a central chamber, no wider than the platform below. Two doors broke the uniform smoothness of the metal walls, this time with standard door handles. The soldier led them through one, into the innards of the base. The single, circular floor was split exactly in half down the middle by a solid wall; the second door obviously led into the other half.

  This particular half section housed a wall crammed from floor to ceiling with dozens of computer screens, satellite tracking hardware and a sophisticated array of communications monitoring equipment. The screens were dark, despite the power being on everywhere else. It didn’t look like the kind of equipment that a weather station should have.

  A kitchen-cum-dining area occupied the right side. The floor was covered with some type of cream coloured resin flooring that matched the cream paint covering all exposed metal surfaces, including the interior wall. A few simple tables were screwed to the floor, as were the seats in front of each of them. The kitchen was well appointed and boasted stainless steel surfaces, in-built cooker, refrigerator, freezer and microwave oven.

  An archway led out into the observation ring. Several small lights were countersunk into the smooth ceiling plates and were already switched on, casting a bright, cheery glow throughout the room. The sky outside the rim looked black now that darkness had fallen completely. The fireworks display had ceased and static beads of water on the glass told Pace it had finally stopped raining too.

  It was so nice to see familiar symbols of civilisation again that the surviving competitors investigated every nook and cranny of the empty research station with the enthusiasm of young children on a treasure hunt. There wasn’t much to see though. The second half had been set aside as living quarters and housed five sets of neatly made double bunk beds, two showers cubicles, three toilets and a tiny, three-machine gymnasium. Everything was in working order and was so tidy that Sarah half expected a horde of angry scientists to appear at any time to berate their uninvited guests.

  A quick check of the kitchen area turned up cupboards bursting with tinned, dried and packet foodstuffs. The power had been off when Baker entered but he’d found the controls to a small generator easily enough, which was why the lights were on. Designed to be charged by hundreds of experimental solar panels; flexible and sewn into the upper skin of the gas envelope, the charge was showing as full. The refrigerator and freezer were both empty but a large, one hundred gallon tank of fresh water bolted above the kitchen sink was still full.

  It was a fantastic piece of technology and they all started to feel safe at last. With armed men guarding the only way in or out, Sarah found her shoulders dropping as pent up tension drained from the muscles around her neck. She wore an easy grin as Baker charged her with the task of organising everyone, allocating bunks, and starting an inventory of the kitchen supplies. He didn’t expect them to be there long enough for it to matter but a good soldier always had a handle on his supplies.

  Next, he led Pace out into the observation rim, leaving Bailey to rustle up a hot meal for them all. The rim was built of clear, reinforced plastic and offered magnificent views of the canopy, beneath and all around; in daylight you would be able to see for miles. As it was, the moon hung low in the night sky and a scattering of stars lit the undulating living carpet with an eerie shadow, proving the rain clouds were moving on.

  They walked the entire length of the rim, stopping at a small metal ladder that led up to a closed hatch. Up Baker went, popped the hatch, and Pace followed, finding himself standing upon the roof of the base, ensconced within a similarly transparent tinted-glass corridor. It ran across the roof and into a small glass dome in the centre, again tinted to prevent glare and sunlight reflecting off it.

  The central dome was obviously designed as a mixture of relaxation area and command centre. There were several larg
e, comfortable chairs set before computer consoles and telephones set on a couple of desks, as well as several sofas and armchairs. The floor was richly carpeted and a large flat-screen television sat nearby.

  Looking up through the glass, Pace marvelled at the stars he saw twinkling down through the hole in the centre of the ring-shaped envelope.

  ‘This is a wonderful machine,’ he enthused, ‘but I wonder why something so advanced has been tied up here, in the middle of nowhere. Any ideas?’

  ‘You are smart enough to know I can’t answer that,’ replied Baker. ‘Just be grateful that it’s here. The others can eat and sleep in safety while I work out the flight controls.’

  ‘Flight?’

  ‘Well, it didn’t just get here all by itself,’ sighed Baker wearily, as if having to explain basic addition to a mathematics graduate. ‘These things are designed to be flown to a major airport, or shipped to a main port, in sections. Then the envelope is filled with helium and the whole rig is flown to wherever it is needed. I’ve seen one before, in the Arctic, when I was there last year. These things can go anywhere and they don’t have the restrictions of a land base.’

  ‘Like a gigantic mobile home,’ Pace said simply. ‘And you say it can be flown?’

  ‘It’s designed to do just that.’

  ‘How? I saw no engine, or propeller.’

  ‘Nothing so simple. The envelope has a ring of tiny fans built into the skin, running around its entire circumference. There are over eighty of them and they can each pump out a decent blast of air when you ask them to. That’s why we aren’t moving even an inch,’ he added wisely. ‘The computer controls every individual fan, making adjustments in each of the eighty, second by second, to keep the balloon stationery. I’ve heard they can cope with winds up to force five with no problem. The rig is tethered to the trees as a back-up for when the power is down but it needn’t be – the fans are holding us on station now that the power is back up.’

  ‘So, by shutting off some fans, and blowing fully with others,’ said Pace, ‘the whole airship can be moved under power.’

  ‘Exactly. And they don’t need a crew. This one has obviously been set up for people, but you can pre-program these things to take themselves anywhere in the world. Totally self-sufficient, they can stay aloft indefinitely.’ Baker scratched his head, looking phased for the first time. ‘Now, all I need to do is sort out the controls. They aren’t typical flight controls, you see. It’s all number crunching and button pressing. I prefer an old-fashioned joystick myself.’

  ‘Well,’ ventured Pace slowly, ‘if you do this cloak-and-dagger stuff for a living, and you’ve seen one of these before, then this isn’t something a civilian research outfit would use?’ Baker eyed him, giving nothing away. ‘And don’t tell me its purpose is to monitor the weather. I noticed some very advanced technology downstairs. Tracking and monitoring systems. This is a surveillance tool, a spy in the sky.’

  ‘That’s McEntire’s business,’ Baker replied. ‘I don’t ask unnecessary questions and neither should you. Someone must have been here at some time because the remote systems don’t go so far as to fasten ground tethers, or to fix ladders into tree trunks,’ he admitted. ‘Whoever it was could have left yesterday, or a year ago, I don’t know Anyway,’ he glanced at his wristwatch, ‘I have to get the control systems online.’

  He settled into a chair by an impressive-looking piece of equipment, complete with touch screen operation, and lost himself in its complexities. When he didn’t speak again, Pace guessed that he’d been dismissed and went back down to rejoin the others.

  Sarah had hit the showers by then and was now dressed in a clean, if unflattering, green boiler suit that she’d found in a bedroom locker; sleeves and legs rolled up to the correct length for her.

  A wonderful smell assailed his nostrils as he walked across to the kitchen. Bailey showed a hidden culinary flair by turning tins of red kidney beans, chopped tomatoes, chilli powder and dried soya mince into a chilli dish fit for royalty. He had boiled up a huge pot of it on the hob and served it to the hungry hordes with some dried crackers and mugs of warm, fresh water.

  Baker came down towards the end of the meal. He spooned a large portion on to a plate and ate quickly, issuing orders for his men between mouthfuls. He sat in between Sarah and Bailey but didn’t speak to either of them until he’d sorted everything he needed to with his men.

  ‘I managed to get the navigation and communications systems up and running,’ he said eventually, to nobody in particular. ‘Everything seems to be in working order. I also contacted McEntire again. He’s given us new extraction co-ordinates, about fifty miles from here, on a northerly heading, up towards the Venezuelan border.’

  ‘Did my father say anything else to you?’ asked Sarah.

  ‘He did miss, yes. Apparently the revolt is all but crushed. Government troops are back in control at nearly all the key buildings that were simultaneously targeted by the rebels, across several cities. Your father said an estimated one thousand armed men took part, mostly soldiers from a single barracks outside Brasilia.’

  ‘And Cathera?

  ‘Oh, I’m sure he’s wormed his way out of it by now. There’s no doubt that he’s behind the whole thing but proving it will be hard work for the authorities. For now, I doubt they can touch him.’

  ‘Why is everybody so sure Cathera’s behind it anyway? However nasty he is, are you absolutely positive it’s him?’

  ‘All sources point to him,’ explained Baker. ‘There’s very good intelligence but it’s been gained covertly. How much would stand up in court, even if it could be disclosed, I don’t know.’

  ‘So what good is that?’ muttered Sarah, incredulous at the thought.

  ‘That’s just the way of the world, miss. But I’m sure the law will catch up with him at some point.’

  ‘How long before we can set off?’

  ‘I just have to program the flight course now. Once the system accepts the co-ordinates, we can get going. I can do it manually, if the computer lets us down, but I have no experience with this system. We could all end up in Paris.’

  ‘How long then?’ Pace repeated his original question. ‘I could help you with the flying if it comes to it.’

  ‘I reckon two hours, maybe three. I am sure the automated pilot will get us where we need to be but I’ll call for you if I need help.’

  This marvel of technology may have possessed the power of flight but the primary function of the thrusters was to provide stability. Consequently, it floated towards their rendezvous like a lifeboat being paddled over a rolling green sea with a toothpick, covering barely eight miles every hour.

  If they didn’t hit any more bad weather, Baker figured, the journey would take about five hours; a little longer than his original estimate.

  Still, they were on their way and Sarah squeezed his hand tightly, feeling positive now that the worst was behind them.

  19

  Baker showed Pace how he’d programmed their course and how to control the balloon manually, using a small keypad set into the control chair armrest. He still wasn’t too clear himself about the system and Pace wasn’t used to this kind of flying either. Give me a helicopter cyclic any day, he mused, but ended up being fairly confident he could take control of the base if a need arose.

  While they worked, Sarah decided to rustle up some hot chocolate from a tin she found in the kitchen and soon they were all sipping at mugs of the steaming, sweet liquid as their new home floated quietly over the dark landscape. Finishing his drink, Baker headed back down below to get some sleep himself, leaving them alone.

  They sat together on a long sofa, with Pace’s arm laid gently around her shoulders, and talked about whatever came to mind. Sarah brought up the subject of Amanda after a little while, tentatively of course, but she needed to know how he was coping with it. What could he say? Nobody could change the facts so he had forced himself to not think about it. Fighting for his life recently had also hel
ped keep her from his thoughts.

  Promising to help in any way, she then asked him about his brother. There was another sibling not seen since he moved to Australia, Pace thought bitterly to himself, and that had been nearly a decade before. He knew he had a nephew and a niece. He received photos and an annual Christmas card but he had yet to meet them in person.

  ‘Maybe you should go and visit your brother after Amanda’s funeral,’ suggested Sarah lightly. ‘It will give you some time to get to know him again and you could play favourite uncles with the children.’

  ‘I plan to do just that,’ he agreed.

  ‘Very glad to hear it,’ she smiled, kissing him softly on the mouth.

  ‘I have wasted years of my life when it comes to family. I know I can’t fix things with my sister, apart from giving her the best send off money can buy, but I can build bridges with David.

  ‘And I’m sure you will.’

  ‘You’ll come, won’t you, to Amanda’s funeral? It’ll only take a couple of days in New York but then I’ll head out to Australia from there.’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘Australia is a long flight but I’ve heard it’s supposed to be beautiful.’ Pace met her gaze softly.

  ‘It is very beautiful,’ Sarah confirmed, with the certainty of a regular visitor.

  ‘Sarah, I’d really like you to come with me, for the whole thing,’ he admitted slowly, ‘but I’ll understand if you’re too busy. The McEntire Corporation will be in need of cool heads when this is all over.’

  ‘The company I thought I knew is obviously just a smokescreen for something I really know nothing about,’ she replied cautiously, as if unwilling to articulate the truth openly. ‘I need to sit down and get some straight answers from my father but that little discussion, and the business, can manage fine without me for a few weeks. Spending time with you, if we ever get out of here alive of course, is all I want right now.’