Wraith

by Shane Smithers

  ‘Ahem,’ Cirro said after a minute or two. ‘We had better tie these two up.’

  Aureole stepped back, looking embarrassed, her natural blonde colour returned.

  ‘That was a brilliant move, Cirro. It almost looked like you were doing a Vulcan neck pinch,’ James said as he helped Cirro drag Wilson into the kitchen.

  ‘It was the Vulcan neck pinch – well, the Azurien neck pinch. Either way it is very effective,’ said Cirro with a wink.

  Aureole passed Cirro the ropes and said to James, ‘How do you think I knocked out Mr Watanabe?’

  ‘Mmm,’ said Cirro in a disapproving tone. ‘However, you need more practice. The person is not supposed to end up unconscious for two whole days.’

  ‘Can you teach me how to do it?’ James could think of a few kids back at school he’d like to try it on.

  ‘Maybe later,’ said Cirro.

  It took all three of them to drag Collins into the kitchen, even with James partially levitating. Cirro sat Wilson and Collins back-to-back and then wrapped the remaining rope around their torsos and arms, pinning them together.

  ‘Did you put something in their pizzas?’ asked Aureole, bending down to examine the henchmen’s balloon-shaped heads.

  ‘Arachis hypogaea,’ said Cirro. ‘Genetically modified, of course, to cause an allergic reaction but not kill.’

  ‘Peanuts,’ explained Aureole, noticing James’s puzzled expression.

  Cirro turned to Aureole, looking serious. ‘Do you know where the SAFFIRE is? Neither of them has it.’

  ‘The boss had it in his pocket,’ said Aureole. ‘He probably took it with him.’

  Cirro’s mouth set in a grim line. ‘Let us hope he still has it when he gets back . . .’

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  Erebus’s Lair, Adelaide, South Australia

  ‘Ow! Don’t press so hard,’ said James, jerking his arm away from the swab Aureole was holding.

  ‘Don’t be such a baby,’ she said with an amused expression. ‘I’m only trying to help.’

  ‘Help what? Kill me?’

  ‘Yes, James, that’s what I’m trying to do,’ said Aureole. ‘But I thought I’d torture you a bit first . . . so hold still.’

  James tried to relax his arm while Aureole dabbed iodine over the abrasion. He didn’t know which hurt more – falling off the cliff or Aureole cleaning his wounds.

  ‘Where’s Cirro gone?’ he said, then drew a breath as she started cleaning the cut on his cheek.

  ‘He’s getting cleaned up . . . I think this cut needs stitches,’ she said.

  ‘I’d prefer a scar. It’ll make me look mean.’

  ‘Ugly, more like it,’ Aureole muttered. She rummaged around in the first aid kit that she’d found in the bathroom. ‘I think I’ll sew it up.’

  ‘What?’ James said, his voice breaking. ‘No way.’ He couldn’t think of anything more horrifying than Aureole stitching him up. She didn’t seem the type to have taken sewing lessons at school.

  ‘Don’t be silly. There’s a needle here . . . and some thread.’

  James jumped out of the chair with lightning speed. ‘This is where I draw the line. You’re not stitching me up! I’m not a piece of cloth, you know!’

  ‘Look!’ she said, pulling something out of the first aid kit and holding it up for him to see. ‘I’ve found a button. This will keep it together.’

  James backed away. ‘You’re crazy! You’re not sewing a button to my face.’

  Aureole burst into laughter. ‘I’m joking.’

  James’s shoulders dropped. ‘Thank god for that,’ he said.

  ‘Right, sit down while I thread the needle.’ She wetted the end of the thread with her mouth to straighten it out.

  ‘You said you were joking.’

  ‘Only about the button.’

  ‘You are not sewing me up,’ said James hotly.

  Aureole paused for a brief moment. ‘Fine. If you want an ugly scar, so be it. Now take your shirt off.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  Aureole rolled her eyes. ‘Take your shirt off so I can see the injuries to your back.’

  ‘My back is fine.’

  ‘James, you fell down a hundred-metre cliff.’

  ‘I stopped before I reached the bottom.’

  ‘Just take your shirt off and sit down. I won’t laugh, honest.’ James’s eyebrows pulled together. ‘Laugh at what?’ Aureole gave him a stern look. ‘Just do it!’

  James removed his T-shirt and quickly sat down with his back to her.

  ‘That’s a nasty bruise,’ said Aureole. James knew that, if it hadn’t been for his jacket, it could have been a lot worse. ‘But at least there aren’t any cuts,’ she continued. ‘Does it hurt much?’

  He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘No, not much,’ he lied. He didn’t want to tell her it felt like he was being stabbed every time he took a breath.

  ‘I’ll rub some comfrey ointment on it. That should help it clear up.’ Aureole’s touch was gentler this time and James tried not to flinch. ‘Nice biceps, by the way,’ she said,as James was slipping his shirt back on.

  He eyed her, uncertain whether she had meant it or was just teasing him. ‘Thanks,’ he mumbled.

  Cirro walked into the kitchen, killing an awkward moment.

  ‘There’s the brother I remember,’ said Aureole with a smile.

  ‘You do not think I should have kept the beard?’ said Cirro, rubbing his clean-shaven face.

  ‘Definitely not. You look much more handsome without it. Don’t you think so, James?’

  James shrugged. ‘Sorry, handsome guys aren’t my thing.’

  Cirro motioned for James and Aureole to join him in the next room. ‘James, there are a few things I need to tell you,’ he said as they all sat down. James’s heart beat a little faster; Cirro was looking sombre. ‘It has to do with your parents.’

  James’s stomach went cold. ‘My parents? What about them? Have you heard where they are?’

  ‘Not exactly,’ said Cirro. He took a deep breath and leaned forward in his chair. ‘I am afraid your parents have been kidnapped.’

  ‘Kidnapped!’ said James.

  ‘The . . .’ began Cirro.

  ‘I knew it!’ said James, hitting his fist on his knee. ‘I knew something was wrong.’ James went on to explain. ‘There had to be a reason why they couldn’t be contacted. Why they were sending postcards. Why they went to London. It just wasn’t making any sense.’ He paused. ‘The only thing is . . . why were they kidnapped? Who would want my parents?’

  ‘The group has not yet identified itself,’ said Cirro.

  A horrible thought popped into James’s head. ‘They haven’t been kidnapped because of me, have they? . . . Because I’m after the SAFFIRE?’

  ‘No, it is not your fault,’ said Cirro. ‘The Aquariens knew there were plans for a kidnapping many weeks before it happened, but they did not know who the target was. You had no knowledge of the SAFFIRE at that stage.’

  Aureole looked confused. ‘What have the Aquariens got to do with his parents?’

  ‘The company James’s parents work for . . .’ began Cirro.

  ‘Akwatroniks,’ said James.

  Cirro nodded. ‘They are a company owned by the Aquariens.’

  James, mouth open, shot Aureole a look. ‘My parents work for another human species?’ he asked Cirro.

  ‘Yes, it would seem so.’

  James slumped back in his chair, momentarily. ‘I can’t believe they didn’t tell me.’

  ‘I am sure they would have, when they thought the time was right,’ said Cirro.

  ‘If the Aquariens knew my parents were going to be kidnapped,’ said James. ‘Why didn’t they stop it, or at least warn them?’

  ‘They did not know who was in danger, only that a kidnapping was to occur at their conference in New Zealand.’

  ‘They should have cancelled the conference,’ said Aureole, throwing her hands in the air. James agreed.

 
‘Hindsight is twenty-twenty, as they say,’ said Cirro with a sigh. ‘The Aquariens thought they could capture the kidnappers. They had their top agents guarding everyone attending the conference, including you and your parents.’

  ‘Me?’ said James, pointing at himself. ‘They were guarding me?’

  ‘Yes. Cordelia. You met her once . . .’

  ‘Cordelia, the driver? She’s an agent?’

  ‘Their best,’ replied Cirro. ‘She thought it unwise leaving you at home, but as it turns out it kept you safe. Of course, she did not know you could fly.’

  James took a moment to let all this sink in. He wished his parents had been more open with him; the last month could have been so much easier for him. But, how could he judge them when he had kept a very big secret – that he could fly – from them? He ran a shaky hand through his hair. ‘Where were they kidnapped?’ he asked, thinking again about the postcard from London.

  ‘All the attendees were transported to London in the last week of the conference. It was thought that the Aquarien agents would be better able to protect them there,’ said Cirro. ‘The conference ended, but your parents never made it to Heathrow Airport.’

  James rubbed his forehead, trying to figure things out. ‘So why were my parents kidnapped?’ he asked.

  ‘Apparently they were working on a project of some delicacy for the Aquariens. I presume someone found out.’

  ‘What project?’ asked Aureole.

  ‘I am afraid I am not a liberty to say,’ said Cirro.

  James frowned. ‘They’re my parents. I have a right to know.’

  ‘Knowing will not do you any good,’ said Cirro. ‘In fact, it could put you in more danger.’

  Aureole looked worried. ‘James is in danger?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Cirro. ‘As soon as the Aquariens informed the Empyrean of events, he sent some of our own agents to investigate. The most recent information they have gathered indicates that the kidnappers not only wanted your parents . . . they wanted you as well.’

  James exchanged glances with Aureole. She seemed as stunned into silence as he was.

  ‘Which is why,’ continued Cirro, ‘when we have secured the SAFFIRE, you must come back to Nebulosity with us. You will be safe there.’

  SIXTY-NINE

  Erebus’s Lair, Adelaide, South Australia

  In the kitchen, Wilson began to stir. He slowly raised his swollen head and, through puffy eyelids, peered around the room. He realised he was a prisoner and began to wriggle. Collins remained unconscious. Wilson shook his body from side to side. Collins slept. In a last-ditch effort, Wilson managed to move his hand down to Collins’s thigh, which he pinched as hard as he could. Collins jerked his head up with a start, slamming it into the back of Wilson’s head. Wilson sank into oblivion.

  A short time later, Wilson regained consciousness. ‘Where am I? Whab’s habbenin’?’ His lips were so swollen it was hard for him to form the words, and he had a cracker of a headache. He could feel a body pressing against his. ‘Cowins, is bap you?’

  Collins shushed him.

  ‘Whab are you shushin’ me for?’ whispered Wilson loudly.

  Collins swivelled so Wilson faced the doorway.

  ‘Is he sbill here?’ said Wilson, trying to open his eyelids wider.

  Collins gave an affirmative grunt.

  Wilson, listened intently. ‘How can you bell?’

  Collins sniffed the air.

  ‘You can smell ’em?’

  Collins pinched Wilson three times.

  ‘Ow! Bree of ’em!’ cried Wilson in a high-pitched voice.

  Collins shushed him once more.

  ‘Whab bo you bink bere gunna bo wib us?’ said Wilson, trying to keep his voice low.

  Collins shrugged his shoulders.

  About half an hour later, the swelling on Wilson’s face had lessened, but his skin had turned pale green.

  ‘Collins . . . I don’t feel so good,’ he said. ‘I think it’s the pizza.’ There was a gurgle, then a rumble, and then a long, low reverberation that went on and on and on . . . When it stopped, Wilson let out a sigh. ‘Ahh, that’s better,’ he said.

  Collins made involuntary gagging motions.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ said Wilson, ‘it don’t smell that bad.’ Several pairs of shoes appeared in the doorway and when Wilson looked up his eyes widened and he mouthed the word ghost.

  ~

  James, Aureole and Cirro stared down at the two criminals. They were still firmly tied, but awake. Wilson’s gaze was fixed on James and he seemed to be trying to say something . . . toast, maybe?

  ‘You should have knocked them out for longer,’ said Aureole, pulling a face and waving her hand in front of her nose.

  Cirro went to reply, but a knock sounded at the door, then two more in rapid succession. ‘Stay here,’ he said to James and Aureole. ‘And keep them quiet.’

  The kitchen door slightly ajar, James watched Cirro hurry over and peer through the peephole. ‘Hang on,’ he heard Cirro say in a muffled voice, similar to Wilson’s. Cirro undid the locks and slipped behind the door as the boss man stormed in.

  ‘Of all the low down, deplorable . . .’ the boss man didn’t have time to finish his sentence. Cirro slammed the door shut behind him and he whirled around in shock. ‘Cirro! How?’

  ‘You always did have a weakness for the ladies,’ said Cirro, the corner of his lip rising. ‘Once the store assistant, Miss Bijouterie, understood what a low life you really were, she was more than happy to give me your number . . . made it considerably easier to find you.’

  ‘It wasn’t her that called me earlier,’ said the boss man, realisation spreading across his face. ‘It was you, trying to get me away from here.’

  ‘Where is the SAFFIRE?’ demanded Cirro.

  The boss scanned the room. ‘Where are my men?’ he said.

  ‘The SAFFIRE – now!’

  The boss eyeballed Cirro. ‘My men? I have all night.’

  Cirro nodded toward the kitchen. ‘They are in there,’ he said and motioned for the boss to join them.

  James stepped away from the door. The boss walked in, glanced down at his two henchmen tied up on the floor and then, on seeing James, raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Sit down,’ ordered Cirro, pulling out a chair.

  The boss did as he was told. ‘Well, it really has been a while, Cirro,’ he said.

  ‘The SAFFIRE is not stable. We do not have a lot of time,’ said Cirro, his mouth set in a grim line. ‘Do you still have it?’

  The boss sat back and crossed one leg over the other, as if he had all the time in the world. He ignored Cirro’s question. ‘So, Primary Agent, how are you?’

  Cirro’s jaw clenched. ‘Fine, and yourself?’ he replied in a cold tone.

  ‘Me? Never better,’ said the boss, smiling. ‘I see young James is here. I’m sure there’s a good story in that.’ He shot James an amused look and then let his gaze fall upon Aureole. ‘You’ll be glad to hear this girl has been a tough one to crack.’

  ‘This girl?’ said Cirro, frowning.

  ‘The Empyrean must be pretty desperate having to use children,’ said the boss, still smiling.

  ‘I hope you’ve been making yourselves at home while I’ve been away.’

  ‘Naturally . . . Erebus,’ said Cirro, his tone mocking. ‘I know how kindhearted you are.’

  ‘Erebus!’ spluttered Aureole. James saw her eyes grow large.

  ‘Heard of me, have you?’ said Erebus with a wink. Aureole stood speechless.

  ‘Erebus,’ said Cirro, a smug look on his face. He placed his hand on Aureole’s shoulder. ‘I would like you to meet Aureole.’

  Erebus’s face dropped. He sat up, glanced from Aureole to Cirro and back again. ‘Cirro . . . I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have taken her if I’d known,’ he stammered, all composure gone.

  James looked to the two men tied up on the floor for answers, but they seemed just as confused as he was. ‘What are you all talking about?
’ James asked.

  ‘Erebus, who is such a clever fellow, kidnapped his own sister,’ said Cirro, his face hardening. ‘A pretty low act even for you, hey brother?’

  James let out an embarrassing snort. ‘You’re joking . . . Right?’ Tears started to trickle down Aureole’s face and James again remembered the family photograph he had seen at Nimbus’s palace the night he had been invited to dinner. There had been five people in it, and two of them had been teenage boys. ‘How come you didn’t recognise each other?’ he said.

  Wilson made a squealing sound, muttered the word, ‘Ghost,’ and passed out.

  ‘Erebus left when Aureole was only three,’ said Cirro, ignoring Wilson. ‘And has been up to bad stuff ever since.’

  Aureole found her voice and said coldly, ‘Where’s the SAFFIRE?’ She wiped away the remaining tears with the back of her hand and glared at Erebus.

  ‘You don’t think I’m just going to hand it over, do you?’ said Erebus with a laugh. He’d quickly regained some of his composure.

  ‘You would risk killing us all? Killing Aureole, just to collect a finder’s fee?’ asked Cirro.

  ‘You really missed your calling,’ replied Erebus, giving Cirro a slow clap. ‘You should have studied drama.’

  ‘The SAFFIRE,’ said Cirro in a controlled voice.

  ‘My dear fellow,’ began Erebus, crossing his arms. ‘I mean really. Why would I give it to you? Maybe for a price . . .’

  Cirro’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Have you forgotten I work for NIB?’ he growled.

  ‘Mm, yes. Nebulosity Investigation Bureau, always sticking its nose in where it doesn’t belong,’ drawled Erebus.

  ‘How did you even know about the SAFFIRE?’ asked James. ‘It was top secret.’

  Erebus turned his gaze to James. ‘Let’s just say, the people I work for have a lot of sway.’

  ‘Who do you work for?’ asked Aureole. She hadn’t taken her hostile eyes off him the whole time.

  ‘People, powerful enough to steal the SAFFIRE from Nebulosity without anyone knowing,’ said Erebus smugly.

  Creases wrinkled Cirro’s brow. ‘The SAFFIRE was not stolen. It fell,’ he said.

  ‘And how do you think that happened?’ laughed Erebus.

  ‘Changing climatic conditions,’ replied Cirro.