The Tower

by Simon Toyne

  They moved back to their positions, three people working together to carry on functions that were normally automatic, keeping him alive by hand while the ECG continued to dance but refused to settle.

  ‘We can’t keep on with this indefinitely,’ Dr Kaplan said between pumps. ‘CPR and artificial respiration only go so far in keeping a patient viable. His brain is already being starved of oxygen. Any longer than a few minutes and it becomes increasingly pointless.’

  ‘Then you’d better get a move on,’ Arkadian said.

  Kaplan nodded. ‘OK spike him up with another mil of epinephrine. Let’s go again.’

  Arkadian focused on the bag in his hand, squeezing and releasing it steadily at the same pace Gabriel would breathe if he could. ‘Come on,’ he whispered, dipping his head down level with Gabriel’s ear. ‘Don’t go out like this. Not like this.’

  Gabriel could see the land beneath him getting closer but the effort to reach it was exhausting. Occasionally a gust of wind would help him out, blowing him downward in a sudden surge, but it never lasted long and the upward force would start to pull on him again, working on his mind too, telling him to give up, let go, relax and float away.

  The land was also taking form and he continued to focus on it, using it as a hook to pull him down, fixing on a patch of green in the middle of a vast, dry desert. He continued to kick and pull with his arms, swimming in the air like he was trying to get to the bottom of a crystal-clear lake.

  He could see more now, trees and rivers and a lake at the centre of the green, reflecting the bright sun behind him. And there was something else, a person, a woman, standing by the edge of the pool and looking around as though she had lost something. She was calling out but he was still too high to hear her. He could feel weariness flooding his whole body and again the voice from above told him to just let go. Then another gust of wind pushed him down, halving the distance so he could finally see who it was and hear what she was calling.

  ‘Gabriel!’ Liv hollered into the same wind that had pushed him close to her. ‘Where have you gone? Why have you left me here?’

  Gabriel kicked harder, the sound of her voice and the sight of her pulling at him now with far more strength than the light in the sky. ‘I’m here,’ he called out. ‘My love, I’m here. I’m coming for you. I’m coming back.’

  Then he kicked once more and something seemed to snap. The lights went out and he was suddenly falling through darkness, down to the earth that he could no longer see, and down to the woman he could no longer hear.

  ‘Heartbeat steady at eight nine, BP 100 over 80.’ Kaplan stood back watching the proof on the heart monitor that it had taken over the job he had been doing for the last five minutes.

  Arkadian continued to pump the air bag, too scared to stop in case it was the only thing keeping Gabriel bound to this earth. ‘You can stop that now,’ Kaplan said, ‘he’s breathing on his own.’

  Arkadian stepped back, suddenly aware that he was drenched in sweat inside his spacesuit. ‘Congratulations, Doctor,’ he said, managing a smile, ‘you just saved a good man’s life.’

  The doctor looked down at the figure on the bed. The infected and blistered skin already starting to sheen again with sweat as the fever came back to life too. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But for how long?

  29

  The heat hammered a headache into Liv before she had even made it out of sight of the compound. She was following the line of one of the larger streams that flowed out from the holding pits, tracing it through the contours of the land. She did not stoop to drink from it despite her thirst. She knew the riders would be watching and she did not want to give them the satisfaction. She felt uneasy walking away, though she knew she had no option: each footstep seemed heavier than the last, like her whole body was rebelling against leaving this place. It was as though her heart was physically bound to it and each step made the bond tighter as it tried to pull her back.

  After nearly two hours’ walking, the land started to fall away and she came across a shallow depression in the ground where the water had pooled. She stopped still the moment she saw it and sank slowly to the ground.

  An eagle stood on the far bank of the pool, dipping its curved beak into the water, sending gentle ripples across the surface while its powerful talons gripped the wet, red earth like soft flesh. It saw her, held her gaze with its huge amber eyes. She sensed no fear in it, or surprise at her presence, it just stared at her, so intently that she felt it must see right through her. Then the crunch of a foot on dry earth behind her made the bird take flight in an explosion of feathers and water droplets.

  Liv spun round and saw Tariq standing over her, his eyes following the bird upward as it rose into the sky. ‘Hey,’ she said, ‘you followed me.’

  He looked down at her and smiled. ‘We all followed you,’ he replied, and stepped aside to let the rest of the refugees file past. Liv watched in silence as they walked down to the water one by one. She felt like crying.

  Since Gabriel had gone she had been almost overwhelmed by feelings of loneliness. It gave her hope to see these strangers now, people who had chosen to follow her into the unknown rather than seek their own salvation. There was something happening here – bigger than her, bigger than any one person – and she knew they must feel it, as she felt it, or else why would they be here?

  ‘This is a good omen,’ Tariq said, looking up at the eagle. She followed his gaze to where the outspread wings gyred high above them, forming the shape of a T in the sky. She’d seen this before.

  She grabbed the folded piece of paper from her pocket and opened it to reveal the rubbing of the Starmap, her eyes focusing on the first line of symbols.

  The river

  An eagle

  A T-shaped cross

  Her eyes slid across the remaining symbols and her heart thumped in her chest.

  ‘Stop,’ she called out. ‘Don’t drink it, don’t drink the water.’ Faces turned to her and she could see questions and doubt in their eyes.

  She focused her mind on the symbols that followed the T.

  The river again, a man kneeling next to it, his head hanging down and dripping, then the skull – symbol of death.

  Liv looked back along the stream towards the distant compound, now just a shimmering smudge in the distance. For most of its length it ran clear, but even as she watched she could see a change. Far in the distance a current was swelling and surging down the stream towards her. It stirred up the mud as it went, turning the water the reddish colour of the earth – the colour of blood.

  How long before it reached here? Ten minutes? Five maybe. Then the water in the pool would be spoiled too. Unless. She looked at the land, the way the river split, half of it flowing down into the pool.

  ‘We must dam the stream into the pool,’ she called out.

  She moved quickly without waiting for a response, heading back to where the water split in two. Most of the flow was coming towards her, down a shallow, two-metre wide stream that was feeding the pool. She picked up one of the boulders that littered the broken ground and stumbled forward, the weight of the rock dragging her down. She reached the fork and the boulder splashed into the water, sinking almost without trace beneath the surface despite the shallowness of the stream. The water continued to flow around it unimpeded. She cast around for another rock and scrambled over to a large, brittle stone that fell apart as soon as she tried to pick it up. She grabbed the two largest chunks and hauled them back to the stream, dropping them next to the first one. Again they sank with barely a trace – and so did her spirits. She was already exhausted; she couldn’t possibly dam the stream on her own. It was hopeless.

  A rock hit the surface in an explosion that covered Liv with water. She turned and saw Tariq behind her, brushing dust from his empty hands. He looked at her and smiled. ‘I’d get out of the way if I were you.’

  She looked beyond him and saw something that made her laugh in pure shock. All eleven of the exiles were staggering towar
ds her, each carrying a rock. She jumped away as the first plunged into the stream in a depth-charge of water. Another joined it, then another. They were already piling up, a few rising above the surface and visibly slowing the flow. Liv dropped down into the water, scooping the red earth up from the riverbed and jamming it into the gaps between the rocks.

  Tariq issued more orders in Arabic, and a curved wall began to form, extending across the stream that had run into the pool and diverting the flow to the other fork.

  ‘Look,’ the cry came from one of the workers. He was pointing upstream. Everyone’s eyes followed – everyone’s but Liv’s. She knew what they were looking at because she had already seen it – first on the stone and then in the hazy distance. The river was turning to blood.

  ‘Quickly,’ she called out, continuing to scoop mud into the wall of rocks. ‘We haven’t got much time.’

  The sight of the river turning red electrified the weary group. Some rushed to collect more stones, others joined Liv in the water, frantically shovelling mud with their hands to seal the gaps.

  Tariq dropped down and shovelled mud next to her then a hiss like a huge snake drew all eyes up as the red wave closed in.

  ‘Out of the river, everybody!’ Liv shouted.

  Those in the stream leapt out as if crocodiles had suddenly appeared in it. Some scrambled down the rapidly drying riverbed to help Liv and Tariq fill gaps in the dam wall, others stood back, awed by the sight of the swollen river arriving in a surge of red.

  It hit the wall with a slap and slopped over the top of the dam. Liv and Tariq dropped back, digging a reservoir in the mud of the rapidly drying riverbed to catch the overspill. She looked up. Leaks had sprung out on the upper part where the mud had already been washed away. One more breach and the whole thing could collapse. Others sensed this too and everyone joined her in the mud, bolstering the wall with armfuls of silt and whatever rocks they could still find close by.

  A stone tumbled down from the top of the dam and a cascade of red water followed it. Without stopping to think, Liv splashed through the water towards it, grabbing the stone and jamming it back in place. She held it there, feeling the sickening flow of red-tinted warm water over her hand, as though it really was blood.

  From her new position she could see over the top of the dam and beyond. The trickle that had been the second fork of the stream was now a solid red flow. But if the wall broke, all that water would quickly revert to its natural course and find its way down to the pool.

  Liv leaned against the dam and braced it with her whole body, arms outstretched, willing it to hold. She could hear the slop of water on the other side of the wall, feel it running over her from the numerous gaps. She could almost sense the whole dam moving, feel the stones slipping out of place under the pressure of the raging river.

  Then something shifted.

  A stone she had tried to jam back in place moved forward, seating itself tighter into the wall, and the flow became a trickle around it. She looked over the top of the wall, her eyes wide. The water level had dropped. It was still dropping, leaving red tide marks along the lengths of the banks. The surge had ended.

  They worked quickly and silently, all energy focused on filling any holes in the dam. But Liv never moved. She remained where she was, crucified on the wall and mired in red, her mind running through the symbols that had predicted all this and wondering what greater terrors might lie in the future, until Tariq laid his hand on her shoulder and told her ‘It’s OK. The dam held. You can let go now.’

  30

  Shepherd opened his eyes to a world of silence.

  For a few moments he had not the slightest idea where he was, or even who he was. He could see a floor strewn with debris and a wall that disappeared in a jagged line three feet up from the ground. Beyond it was a whiteness that hurt his eyes and low grey cloud.

  The cloud.

  His mind hooked onto the word – and he remembered.

  He felt the cold all around and sinking into him – but not from beneath. There was something warm underneath him.

  He forced himself up, willing his disconnected arms to move and push him up from the floor so he could see what it was. He feared it might be blood, his blood, but it was just Franklin, unconscious and unresponsive. He felt cold, everything felt cold. He needed to get them both away from here and into the warm.

  He tried to stand but dizziness surged through him, driving him back down again. He focused on the chewed metal edge of what had once been the outer wall, trying to fix on something long enough to stop the world from spinning.

  A face appeared above the wall, shouting something his ears could not hear. He tried to raise his hand and call the man over. He tried to push himself up so the man could see Franklin. But in the end these thoughts went no further than his brain and just the effort of thinking was enough to let the darkness back in. His eyes closed. The coldness pressed down. And the whistling whine in his damaged ears faded back to silence.

  When Shepherd woke again it was with a gasp that hurt his throat.

  He was lying on a bed in a white room, all wipe-clean linoleum and health awareness posters. One listed the symptoms of radiation sickness, another the toxic properties of various chemicals. He had been here before. The same posters had graced the walls in his research intern days when he had come to the sick bay to be treated for a mild helium burn.

  Helium.

  Burn.

  The words pierced the bubble surrounding his brain and it popped in sudden and painful recollection.

  ‘Franklin!’ He sat up in bed and the room shifted as though it was floating.

  White-coated figures surged through the door. They were all talking to him, at him, he could see their mouths moving but all he heard was a waa-waa sound, their voices muffled and indistinct like his ears were waterlogged. He worked his jaw and they popped, his hearing returning as suddenly and painfully as his memory had.

  ‘Please,’ he said, closing his eyes against the headache brightness and holding his hand up against the noise. ‘Could someone tell me what happened to Agent Franklin.’

  ‘Nothing.’ Shepherd opened his eyes at the familiar voice and looked past the white coats who were now checking his blood pressure and other vital signs. Franklin was leaning against the doorjamb, hands deep in his pockets, the smile back in place like nothing had happened. ‘Well, I got blown up – there is that – but apart from that I’m pretty good. Better than you leastways, but then you did take more of the blast than me.’ He turned to the medical personnel. ‘Now if you gentlemen are sure he ain’t gonna die in the next few minutes, might I trouble you to leave us in private for a moment or two?’

  Shepherd watched the medics leave and close the door. What was left of his coat was hanging on the back. It looked like cattle had stampeded over it. The laptop case was propped against the wall next to it, untouched because he had left it behind in the Explorer. Franklin sat down by the bed. ‘Looks like you saved my life back there. Guess I owe you a drink.’

  Shepherd swallowed, his mouth still parched from the dry air he’d breathed so long in the cryo chamber. ‘I don’t drink.’ He swallowed again, missing the look of mild disapproval that flitted across Franklin’s face. ‘What about Douglas?’

  Franklin shook his head. ‘Missing. If he was anywhere in the facility then he’s dead for sure, but we haven’t found anything yet. The explosion tore everything to pieces. Place looks more like some kind of modern sculpture now than a building. My feeling is he wasn’t in there.’ He leaned forward and dropped his voice low. Shepherd could hardly hear it through the whine in his ears. ‘That thing you saw on the computer before you dragged me out of there, I caught a glimpse of it myself, looked like some kind of countdown.’

  Shepherd nodded. ‘I think it was primed to make the loading arm drop the helium tank once everyone was clear of the building. Was there a fire?’

  ‘No, just an almighty bang.’

  Shepherd remembered the crump a
nd the cold, solid wave sweeping over them. ‘It was a pressure bomb. Helium doesn’t burn. It’s inert. It’s one of the reasons they like using it as a coolant in facilities like this – much less dangerous. But if it’s cooled to liquid form and you heat it up quickly it expands in an explosive manner.’

  He looked down at his battered body stretching away on the examination table. At least he was in one piece. They were very lucky, considering. ‘I’m guessing the Webb telescope mirrors that were in the testing chamber …’

  ‘Destroyed,’ Franklin nodded. ‘I doubt you could find a piece big enough to comb your hair with.’

  Shepherd closed his eyes and let out a long breath. ‘They killed James Webb,’ he said out loud, as though mourning a friend.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The project, it’s dead. They won’t restart it again after this. The only reason it had managed to keep going so long was because of existing commitments to the manufacturers. It was already billions over budget.’ Something occurred to him and he sat up in bed, steadying himself as vertigo swam through his head. ‘We should issue warnings to all the major ground telescopes – the VLA in New Mexico, the Keck II in Hawaii; and not just here but globally. If there’s some kind of “end of days” cult at work here, targeting anything that’s staring at the sky, then it won’t be restricted to space telescopes or confined to the US.’

  ‘Cool your jets, rocket man, already been done. There’s a high-level alert out on all international security networks with copies of the postcards and details of the two attacks. All potential targets have been advised to beef up their security and report to us if they have received similar threats.’

  Shepherd swung his legs off the bed and down to the floor. He still felt dizzy but it was getting better. ‘What about telescopes under construction? There’s a big one out in Arizona somewhere. I think the Europeans just started one somewhere in Chile. They could be targets too.’

  ‘The alert went out to all national and private observatories, both operational and under construction. I may not have all your fancy degrees, Shepherd, but I’m not an idiot. Oh by the way – who’s Melisa?’ Shepherd felt like he’d been punched in the gut. ‘You were talking while you were out. Kept saying that name over and over, like you were calling for her, like maybe she was lost. She got something to do with your missing two years?’