‘He could be classified as an Azurien citizen,’ said Cirro, nodding slowly. ‘He falls under our laws. Interspecies scandal averted.’ It all sounded very reasonable on the outside. However . . . ‘I do not know how long it will be before James insists on going home. I know he is worried about his parents. I see it in his face every time he asks news of them.’ James’s parents were becoming of grave concern to Cirro as well. His agents had come to dead ends in their investigations. Awkatronics could not be contacted, their Sydney office had closed down. It all appeared highly suspicious. The Lockes’ fate was not looking good.
‘Then it is your job to keep him distracted.’ Nimbus patted Cirro on the shoulder. ‘Consider yourself his full-time babysitter.’
‘I already do,’ replied Cirro, wondering how that had become a part of his job description.
EIGHTEEN
Nebulosity Airspace
Almost a week had passed since dinner at Welkin Palace. Life had slowed down to the point of being boring for James. There were no more tests for him to do. Kawasaki was busy analysing the results, so he had virtually no time for him. Cirro came, mainly to tell him that there was still no word about his parents, which took ten seconds and then he’d look a little awkward, give a little nod and a smile and leave again. James was stuck at the hospital, feeling like a prisoner. When he said as much, Cirro promised to take him somewhere the next day.
James pressed his nose against the window of the hopper and gazed out, feeling insignificant. He and Cirro were hovering above the city. What he hadn’t realised until now was that Nebulosity wasn’t just below them, it was above them, to the side of them, all around them. They were in a vast, multi-level atrium, kilometres high. The cloud city was a three-dimensional megalopolis, as Cirro had called it.
Pointing off into the distance, Cirro said, ‘See those buildings going up into the clouds over there? They continue into the next level and beyond. Some cloudscrapers are as tall as Nebulosity itself. Engineering masterpieces, they say.’
James took in the tall, mirror-like buildings. ‘Why don’t they fall through the cloud?’
‘They are made from organic hydrolium alloys,’ said Cirro. James stared at him. ‘Metal alloys lighter than air.’
‘Right . . .’ said James, not understanding, then something colourful caught his eye. ‘What’s that?’ He pointed between the cloudscrapers. He thought he could just make out a rainbow in the distance.
‘That is the main entrance to Nebulosity.’ Cirro’s tone was matter-of-fact.
That piece of information, thought James, is very handy indeed.
‘Parking is available at Scud & Scud,’ said Angie, sounding pleased with herself. Cirro had asked her to locate a suitable place for lunch, after which they were off to MAL Laboratories at Dr Kawasaki’s request.
‘Thank you,’ said Cirro. ‘That is most satisfactory.’ ‘You are very welcome,’ replied Angie, brightly. James tried not to laugh. He had never heard a computer talk with such emotion.
The hopper turned 180 degrees and sped off, then veered toward the wall of a cloudscraper. James grimaced and grabbed the edge of his seat. ‘Cirro!’
Before the Primary Agent had a chance to respond, the hopper passed straight through the wall. Inside was a parking station filled with hoppers bobbing quietly under fluorescent lights.
‘Sorry,’ said Cirro. ‘I forgot you would not be accustomed to hologramatic entrances.’
James looked at Cirro incredulously. ‘You forgot?’ He pried his fingers from the seat. ‘I thought Angie had malfunctioned and we were about to die.’
‘Malfunctioned!’ said Angie. ‘Well, really!’
Cirro just shrugged and grinned.
They hopped out and the Primary Agent led the way through the polished ice doors, toward the escalators. When they reached the ground floor, a flood of people, looking eager to have lunch, swept them along. Within seconds, James was out in the street, being carried along with the crowd, Cirro nowhere in sight.
A few people did a double take, as he was jostled about, but said nothing. For a moment James felt like he was seven again, when he’d lost his mother while shopping in Sydney. She’d hugged him so hard when she found him. His stomach tightened at the thought of his mum. Then his eyes widened. This is my chance! he suddenly realised. I can leave. He straightened up, clenched his fists and went with the crowd as far as he could, until he found a narrow, winding lane. He decided to make a dash for it. After a left turn and then a right, he raced across an open square into a park and kept running. Eventually, he slowed to a stop, took a few deep breaths, the beginnings of a stitch forming in his side. There was no one around, just weird-looking mushroom-shaped trees and a ground covered in moss. Above him was open space. He didn’t have a clue where he was, but at least he was free. Except . . . he looked down at his wrist and his shoulders slumped. He couldn’t fly; not with the harmonising bracelet still on. The thing that stopped him from falling through the cloud, was also stopping him from leaving. How to get it off? He cast a desperate eye around for something that might help him, came up with nothing. He jogged on a bit further.
Up ahead, through the trees, James saw a ghostly aquamarine glow. When he got there he realised it was coming from five towering blocks of ice arranged in a perfect circle, and in the middle was an abstract black-ice sculpture. He took one look and felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. A plaque nearby, written in two different languages, one of them English, said Ice Henge. There was some other stuff written about legends and mountain glaciers, but he didn’t have time to read it, as voices carried through the trees.
James took off down another meandering path, between trees and other monuments and back to the streets. He darted through several lanes, down stairs, round corners, up stairs, through a doorway past a very angry chef, and, finally, down a side corridor.
He paused for a moment to catch his breath. A busy food hall was only metres away. ‘Don’t draw too much attention to yourself,’ he muttered, walking out into the open, his heart pounding.
Out of nowhere, a woman, holding a tray with two enormous plates of food, stepped in front of him. They collided, did a strange sort of waltz and then parted.
‘Sorry!’ gasped James over his shoulder. He stumbled toward a crowd of diners, looked down and realised he was holding her tray.
‘Hey!’ shouted the woman.
To James’s dismay, he bumped straight into Cirro. He stopped dead, opened his mouth to speak.
‘Who do you think you are?’ said the woman, storming over. ‘You cannot just take my tray.’
Cirro pulled out his wallet and flashed his ID. ‘It is all right, madam. How much do I owe you?’ He paid the woman, an amused twinkle in his eyes.
‘Um, I just got lost with the crowd.’ James wondered if Cirro would buy his excuse. ‘I didn’t mean to upset that lady, I just . . .’
‘Do not worry about it. Let us have lunch.’ Cirro glanced down at the tray and made a face. ‘Though I am not sure why anyone would want to eat steamed sea-cucumber, with snail purée and vapoponic lettuce garnish.’
NINETEEN
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
‘Batmania?’
Erebus flicked open the cap on top of the gearstick, revealing a bright orange-red button, and said, ‘Wilson, see this red button?’
‘You mean that orange button? Or is there a red button hidden somewhere?’
‘I mean this red button,’ said Erebus gruffly, pointing at the button on the gear stick. ‘When pressed, this red button detonates the ejector seat. If you ask me about Batmania one more time, I will press the button, the roof will fly off and you will be ejected into space. Do you understand?’
‘But, Boss, surely it would eject Collins, ‘cos he’s in the front seat.’
‘I had it specially made, in case I’m ever forced to drive at gun point, so I can eject the gunman sitting behind me.’
‘Well, that is clever,’ muttered Wilso
n.
‘It’s very James Bond.’ Erebus’s thumb caressed the button. ‘So, for the last time, the city known as Melbourne was originally named Batmania. I was told to go to Batmania. That’s it.’
‘But, Boss . . .’ Wilson started, then hesitated when he noticed Collins extending his index finger toward the button.
‘Take it easy there, big fella,’ said Erebus. ‘It’d get pretty cold in here without the top.’
Collins looked over his shoulder at Wilson, held him with a squinting stare – a threat Wilson understood perfectly.
‘You wouldn’t,’ said Wilson. ‘After all the things . . . I mean, really?’
Collins gave a little huff and moved his finger closer towards the button.
Erebus flicked the cap closed just in time. Fighting back a smile, he looked at Wilson in the rear-view mirror. ‘I’m warning you, Wilson, keep going like this and we’ll be fighting over who gets to press the button.’
Wilson folded his arms and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. Erebus tuned the radio to a station that played easy-listening jazz, laid the seat back another notch and cruised down the freeway. The next four hours passed without a word. When they reached Wangaratta, the navigation system beeped and began to load an address.
After a few seconds a husky female voice said, ‘Estimated travel time to your destination, two hours and fifty-four minutes.’
Erebus eyed Collins. ‘Did you touch the SAT NAV?’
Collins shook his head.
‘Neither did I, Boss,’ said Wilson quickly.
‘What is our destination?’ asked Erebus warily, wondering how his navigation system had been tampered with.
‘Carnivále, of course,’ the voice retorted with attitude.
‘Impressive,’ Erebus said under his breath. How had Scarlet managed to hijack his SAT NAV? It was a little unnerving to say the least.
‘All right then,’ he said. ‘Carnivále it is.’ He looked across at Collins and did a double take. For the first time since their escape from Lithgow Gaol, Collins wore a wide smile. He clearly liked going to the circus.
Erebus parked the car in a side street close to Carnivále and activated the central locking before Wilson or Collins could open his door. ‘Now,’ he said in a strict tone, ‘before we alight from the vehicle, let me reiterate the rules of engagement.’ He pointed a finger at both of them. ‘There will be no cavorting with Carnival folk, no card games, no gambling of any kind, no Sideshow Alley, and definitely no snake charmers. We cannot afford another trip to hospital emergency.’ Wilson and Collins shot each other a guilty look. ‘And last, but not least,’ continued Erebus, ‘stay together, but not too close. Make sure you follow me wherever I go.’ He turned and eyeballed them both. ‘Do you understand?’
Collins nodded.
Erebus waited for whatever annoying question Wilson had rattling around in his head to emerge.
‘Got it, Boss,’ Wilson said.
As Erebus got out of the car a girl on a motor-scooter whooshed past at a tremendous speed, flicking an envelope at him. It hit him in the chest and he clutched at it two or three times before he caught it. ‘That was hardly inconspicuous,’ he shouted after the girl. He shook his head. ‘The stupid games we play.’
The envelope could have contained his instructions, but instead it held three tickets to Carnivále, one token to Madam Chartreuse’s Emporium of the Spirits, and a scrap of paper with three short sentences that sounded like they came from an old episode of Kung Fu. Erebus gave Collins and Wilson one ticket each.
‘Boss?’ Wilson enquired.
‘Here we go,’ groaned Erebus.
‘When you say no snake charmers, does that include those women with the big pythons slithering around their shoulders? I mean technically, they are very charming ladies, but they’re not snake charmers.’
‘Where in the Carnival do you think you would find such an exotic performer?’ said Erebus.
‘Oh, that’s easy, Sideshow Alley, probably next to the Freakshow,’ replied Wilson.
‘So there’s your answer. No Sideshow Alley, no Freakshow and no snake lady,’ growled Erebus.
As they showed their tickets, there were fire-breathers, people teetering on stilts walking here and there, fire twirlers and acrobats flip-flopping along balance-beams above the crowd. Erebus weaved quickly through the crowd. He walked past every stall, every ride and every vendor but the Emporium was nowhere to be found. It came to him after he’d completed another circuit of the stalls.
‘Sideshow Alley,’ he groaned.
Even though Collins and Wilson leaned forward, Erebus had to raise his voice so that they could hear. ‘All right, it looks like we have to go into the Sideshow, but that doesn’t mean the other rules don’t apply.’ Wilson raised his finger. ‘No, Wilson, that does not mean that you can visit the snake lady. Just stay close.’
Erebus made a beeline for the entrance. The mountain of muscle guarding the alley moved aside and the three of them walked in. This was not a normal modern-day Sideshow Alley. There were no thrill rides or show-bags. It was like stepping back fifty years or more. Weird and scary seemed to be the theme. Performers wandered through the crowds of onlookers, holding great hairy spiders, kissing venomous snakes, swallowing two-edged swords, while others threw razor-sharp knives at scantily clad women tied to all kinds of things. There were men with loud hailers promising exotic performances that would make a sailor blush. What a madhouse, thought Erebus.
They passed the Freakshow and The Harem of Bearded Beauties, Erebus having to tug Wilson onward several times. Finally, Madam Chartreuse’s Emporium of Spirits loomed large, bigger and taller than any of the other tents.
Erebus parted the beaded tassels and stepped inside, followed by Wilson and Collins. At first, none of them seemed to realise that what appeared to be a beautiful mannequin in a sequined body stocking was actually a young woman. When she spoke, Wilson screamed. She bowed and asked, ‘Have you come to accept a message from the beyond or are you here because you want a spell cast, or your fortune known?’
Erebus’s eyes twinkled as he smiled. He retrieved the scrap of paper the girl on the motor scooter had thrown at him earlier. ‘I am young in the ways of the spirits,’ he read aloud. ‘I do not know which way my path goes. Please, won’t you guide me?’
‘Yes, Grasshopper,’ Wilson sniggered to Collins, who smiled.
The woman ignored Wilson’s remark. ‘Please, follow me. I believe that Madam Chartreuse has foreseen your coming. She awaits you in the Chamber of the Spirits.’
The Emporium was suitably dark and mysterious, with veiled suites and heavy drapes concealing all manner of secret places, and, despite the noise outside, eerily quiet. Madam Chartreuse waited in the innermost chamber, adorned in shades of green, layered, embellished and embroidered with silk. Erebus was suitably impressed by her flamboyant costume but mostly by the sense of theatre that filled her every gesture.
‘Please sit down,’ she said with an exaggerated wave of her hand.
As Erebus sat, resting his arms on the table, Wilson and Collins shuffled in and stood behind him.
Madam Chartreuse began to speak, ‘Are you the one the spirits seek?’ The lights dimmed and flickered, and Erebus tried to hide a smile behind his hand. ‘Are you the servant of the eternal ones?’ she continued.
‘Surely, only your sisters can tell you that,’ said Erebus. Madam Chartreuse’s long lashes batted seductively and her mouth curled into a chastising smile. ‘Tut-tut, Erebus. You really must learn some manners. Some things ought not to be mentioned.’ Then, like a gypsy, she danced as though she were holding invisible castanets, clapping and clicking her heels. As she swayed and moved about the room, her great billowing sleeves appeared like the fan dancers’ feathers, disguising her every treasure. She twirled, writhed, and span to a stop. With the clap of her hands a green crystal ball, cradled in a clawed hand, materialised in the middle of the little table. Wilson, mesmerized by her perfo
rmance, gasped. Erebus gave him a sharp elbow, wondering how someone could be so easily fooled.
When Madam Chartreuse sat down, the young woman in the sequined body stocking brought a thick veil and draped it over Madam Chartreuse’s head, covering her face. The lights dimmed, the room appeared to fill with smoke and the crystal ball glowed brightly. Erebus surmised that she was using uranium glass and ultraviolet light.
Madam Chartreuse began to wail, ‘Ohhhhh, gggrreat spirits, are you heeeere? Do you bring a message from beyonnndd?’
Ghostly apparitions danced in the smoke above their heads. The room was deathly silent. Behind him, Erebus thought he heard Collins shift uncomfortably. Then the table began to vibrate and the young woman standing at the back fainted. Erebus started to rise to help her, but Madam Chartreuse gestured for him to remain seated and then began to caress the crystal ball in front of her. As each finger touched the crystal, a shaft of light appeared and encircled each tip in an eerie glow. The dazzling light snaked through the crystal as if dancing to a charmer’s flute.
‘Ohhhhh, Great Spirit, let me gaze into your world, deeeper, deeeeeeper into the eternal plane. Yes, yes-o-yes, Great One, tell me, telllll meeee. Doooo you have a messsaaggge for your servant?’ The apparitions danced more vigorously over their heads and the table bumped loudly. ‘Yes, I will tell him. Yes. Danger, much danger. He must travel to the City of Churches, to the great Cathedral. Yes, at midnight, at the next new moon. Yes, he must come alone. Yes, Great Spirit, you have much wisdom. I will tell him. He must travel the serpent’s path . . . he must slumber . . . he must be careful to lay no track, to carve no path. Yes, I will tell him. He must be as the wind.’
Erebus briefly turned to his offsiders and rolled his eyes. Collins had his arms crossed, his face reflecting the luminous green from the crystal ball but not giving much away, while Wilson’s eyes were huge and he appeared to be trembling. When Erebus turned back Madam Chartreuse had started swaying again. The table vibrated, violently bumping about the floor and the already dim lights flickered. The air hung heavy, charged with electricity.
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