The Chaos Code

by Justin Richards

  Chapter 10

  Atticus Harper was seething. ‘How dare you?!’

  Matt leaped out of the chair, such was the force of the man’s anger. Harper was striding across the room towards Matt and Robin.

  ‘Sorry,’ Matt stammered.

  ‘We were just looking,’ Robin said coolly. She had not flinched at Harper’s anger. ‘We’re not doing any harm.’

  Harper leaned across and grabbed the mouse. ‘No harm?! You abuse my hospitality and break into my computer system …’ He moved the mouse pointer quickly across the screen.

  ‘Sorry,’ Matt said again. ‘Look, the screen was already on.’ That much was true. ‘We didn’t know we were doing anything wrong. Just looking, like Robin said. It’s such a neat kit.’

  On the screen, the tiny figure of the avatar walking stiffly up the stairs faded, as if dissolving. The model of the pyramid and the building below it disappeared and the screen returned to the main database.

  A thin trail of sand led up the stairs, barely more than a scattering of grains. As if someone had carried a bag with a small hole in it slowly up the staircase.

  The small lights set into the wall at each third step threw a misshapen, clumsily drawn shadow of a man onto the stone wall. Then, abruptly, the shadow was gone. Disintegrated. Turned to flecks and specks that fell to the floor.

  Anyone coming down the stairs would have found no one there. Just a pile of sand and dirt strewn across several of the steps and fading into a thin trail that continued downwards …

  ‘Are you saying that this screen was logged into the system?’ Harper demanded.

  Matt glanced at Robin. He didn’t want to tell an outright lie, but it was a way out of trouble. ‘Katherine was showing me round, and she got a message from you and had to leave. I stayed here and the screen was on. I was just playing.’

  Harper’s eyes narrowed. ‘And you?’ he asked Robin.

  ‘Me too,’ she said. She was smiling at him – all sweetness and innocence. But Matt could see a determination in her eyes.

  ‘I understood you were asleep in bed,’ Harper said.

  ‘Then you obviously understood wrong.’

  ‘Obviously …’ Harper logged off the system and the monitor once more showed the stylised H like the other screens. ‘As you say, there’s no harm done.’ He straightened up, and regarded Robin and Matt with something approaching appreciation. ‘You did well to navigate through the data. And I do know that you’re something of an expert with computers, young man,’ he told Matt.

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. But in future, please ask before you tinker. I am happy for you to look through the data, of course, and to see how we operate. But with permission, and within certain limits. The screen in your room is connected to the system and will give you access to the files and folders you need. But some of the other information on the systems is rather sensitive, confidential business data and so on.’

  ‘I understand,’ Matt said, relieved that they seemed to be getting off so lightly.

  ‘And what about that model we were looking at?’ Robin said. Matt nudged her to shut up, but she ignored him. ‘Was it supposed to be this pyramid? What was the structure underneath? Like cellars or something? And why the models of people – people made from the elements, from the earth?’

  Harper’s expression seemed to have frozen on his face. ‘So many questions,’ he said quietly. ‘What an inquiring mind you have.’

  ‘Do I get any answers?’ Robin demanded.

  Matt felt he wanted to curl up and die. ‘Come on,’ he said quietly. ‘We ought to be going. Like Mr Harper says, we shouldn’t really be here at all.’

  ‘People made from the elements,’ Harper echoed, ignoring Matt. ‘Yes, I suppose it might seem like that. Just an artefact of the computer program.’

  ‘That’s what I said,’ Matt told him. ‘A problem with the texture mapping.’

  But still Harper ignored him. He was staring intently at Robin, who met his gaze without seeming at all intimidated. ‘Golems, perhaps?’ Harper said. ‘They were supposed to be made from the very earth itself, animated by the will of another. Do you believe the ancients really had the power to manipulate the elements, then?’

  ‘Do you?’ she countered. ‘They moved blocks of stone to make the pyramids with such precision no one really knows how it was done. All across the ancient world you find religions based on the theory that the elements are entities – gods – in their own right. Earth, air, fire and water.’

  ‘Which hardly sits well with atomic theory, does it?’ Harper said. He seemed amused now. ‘Atoms and molecules, that’s all the air and the earth and the water are. Fire is simply a reaction, albeit one that gives off heat. There is no sentience involved – no thought or feeling or guiding intelligence.’

  ‘You’re made of atoms and molecules, and I assume your body has some guiding intelligence.’

  ‘Be careful, young woman!’ he snapped.

  But Robin smiled. ‘You’re giving off heat too,’ she said. She stood up at last, turning to Matt. ‘You’re right, we should go.’

  ‘Yes,’ Harper said. He was apparently calm, but Matt could see his hands were clenched tight and he looked pale with anger. ‘You need your sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day as we assess Mr Venture’s progress and decide how best to proceed.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Matt said quickly. ‘We’ll see you in the morning. I really do want to find my Dad.’

  Harper seemed to relax slightly at this. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘We all want that.’

  ‘I thought you wanted the Treasure of St John,’ Robin said. ‘The documents and notes.’

  ‘It comes to the same thing,’ Harper told her.

  ‘Don’t push it,’ Matt murmured.

  ‘We’ll go to bed now,’ Robin said meekly. ‘Like good young people. It’s all right.’ She held her hand up to tell Harper not to follow. ‘We can find our own way back to our rooms, thank you.’

  ‘I’m sure you can,’ Harper said, and there was a cold edge to his voice that Matt did not like at all.

  The screen on the wall of Matt’s room turned out to be a computer monitor as well as a TV, just as Harper had told him. There was a keyboard slotted into a space below the screen. It popped out when Matt pressed it. The keyboard was connected to the screen by infrared or wireless, so there was no cable attached. A joystick at the top right of the keyboard replaced the mouse.

  He intended to go through some of the data and explore the part of the system to which he did have access. But as soon as he flopped on the bed, Matt realised how tired he was. So instead he got back up, turned off the screen, pushed the keyboard back into its slot to keep its battery charged, and tumbled into bed. His mind was a whirl of computer models, historical information, treasure and ancient maps.

  Why did Harper have a computer model of the pyramid, with another building linked into it? Was it some structure he believed had existed on the same site before the pyramid was built? And what was the deal with the modelled figures – the avatars that seemed to be textured from sand or earth? They didn’t seem to be there for any reason, except perhaps as a programmer’s whim or a trivial amusement.

  And Harper had gone on about golems and creatures made from the elements. Robin seemed to know what he was on about, but it was lost on Matt. Except … There was something, some connection there. He remembered the dark figure watching Dad’s house – shapeless and shadowy. The rough hand over his mouth, like sandpaper … And something else too. A paper? A document? Something at the edge of his mind.

  But, whatever antagonism there was between Harper and Robin, the most important thing as far as Matt was concerned was to find Dad. Not the documents and notes that Robin had said Harper was after. Documents and notes … notes … Without even realising it, Matt slipped into a deep sleep. In moments, he was dreaming.

  Dad was in his study, working at his desk. Matt was there too, watching. A rough hand was clamped over his mouth from behin
d, and he couldn’t shake it off or make himself heard. But Dad was talking to him, not seeming to notice Matt’s plight. He couldn’t hear exactly what his father was saying, but he was holding a piece of paper, waving it excitedly at Matt. Notes – handwritten notes … Then, suddenly, Dad was gone. The French windows were blowing open and shut, papers gusting round the room. Matt struggled free, turning to see his attacker.

  There was no one there. And suddenly, he was looking down at Dad’s desk, and it was exactly as he had found it a few days ago. Matt saw himself picking up the book of ancient maps. A sheet of paper fell from it – Dad’s handwritten notes on one side. On the other, a computer printout. Matt picked it up, and stared at it.

  And now he was somewhere else. Still holding the paper, he felt the cold wind in his hair and tugging at his pyjamas, and he wished he’d been wearing a coat. He was standing on the edge of a cliff. Below him, frothy waves crashed into the dark, ragged rocks.

  ‘So you found me then,’ Matt’s dad said. He was standing right beside him on the cliff.

  The room was completely dark. Usually there was some light – filtering in from the outside world or under the door. But here there was nothing. The darkness was so close and complete that Matt could feel it pressing in on him. He sat up, fumbling for the light, and hoping that it would be there. And that when he turned it on, he would find himself in the room in the pyramid where he had gone to sleep and not in a cave or a dungeon or a sealed box or …

  The lights came up in response to his push of the button by the bed. The room was just as it had been when he faded the lights and fell asleep. Nothing had changed.

  Nothing except the excitement in Matt’s stomach as he recalled the dream, remembered the printed paper from Dad’s study, and realised that he knew why it had been left there. Without pausing to check the time, he pushed back the covers and leaped out of bed.

  Robin opened her door almost at once, which meant that she couldn’t have been asleep. In fact, she was fully dressed and Matt wondered if he’d overslept. Not that he cared.

  ‘I know where it is,’ he gasped. ‘The Treasure of St John – I know where it is.’

  ‘Then you’d better come in.’

  The voice wasn’t Robin’s, it came from the room behind her. She stepped aside and Matt walked slowly in. Julius Venture was sitting in a chair, the keyboard for Robin’s screen on his lap. ‘Get your breath back,’ he said. ‘Then tell us all about it.’

  Matt sat on the bed, with Venture in the one upright chair and Robin cross-legged on the floor. Robin and her father listened attentively while Matt described how he had found Dad’s house empty when he arrived there. ‘It seems so long ago now,’ he said. He described the muddy hallway, and saw that Robin and Venture exchanged glances at this. Then he told them about the intruder who put a sandpaper-like hand over his mouth.

  ‘He’s gaining control,’ Robin interrupted. ‘He knows a little already.’

  Matt wanted to ask her what she meant, but Venture was talking again: ‘Ancient knowledge. I wonder how much Harper really knows and understands. We’ve been using Robin’s access to the computer,’ he explained to Matt, ‘because they already have her marked down as curious. You too. But so far as Harper is aware, I am the perfect guest and taking everything at face value.’

  ‘You think we shouldn’t?’

  ‘Ancient knowledge,’ Venture repeated. ‘Remember what Harper said about control of the elements. Remember the wind and the rain, the feel of sand and dirt across your face …’

  ‘The candle flames, watching you work,’ Robin added quietly.

  ‘You’re kidding, right?’ Matt looked at their serious expressions. ‘You’re not kidding. Look, it’s just the weather. There’s some weird things going on here, but it’s not, like, spooky or haunted or anything. I mean, what are you saying? That somehow the, what – the elements? The elements are being controlled. Earth and wind and fire.’

  ‘And water,’ Venture said quietly.

  ‘That’s just daft,’ Matt told him.

  ‘See if you still think that when we find the Treasure of St John,’ Robin said.

  ‘But that’s what I’m telling you, I have found it. You see, Dad had a printout from a travel agent – journey information, an itinerary for a trip he was going to make. And I bet that’s why he was snatched when he was, before he could go.’

  ‘Go where?’ Venture asked. He was leaning eagerly forward in the chair.

  ‘He was flying to Copenhagen. I remember that, because I went there with Mum once on some business trip. Had to stay in the hotel on my own all day. Dead boring.’

  ‘Copenhagen?’ Robin’s blue eyes were wide, realising what was coming next.

  ‘Yeah. And then he was set to go by train and then boat to an island.’

  ‘Valdeholm,’ Venture said quietly.

  ‘That’s right. So that’s where the Treasure must be!’

  Robin was grinning. ‘Well done, that must be it. Matt, you’re a hero!’

  Matt grinned back.

  But Venture was less elated. ‘Wait, wait, wait,’ he cautioned. ‘Just because your father was going there doesn’t mean the Treasure is there. It implies – heavily implies – that he believed it was there. But he might have been wrong.’

  ‘Oh come on, Father,’ Robin said. ‘When was Arnie ever wrong about anything like this?’

  ‘Let’s take it as a working hypothesis, then.’

  ‘A what?’ Matt said.

  ‘Let’s assume for the sake of argument that your Dad was right,’ Robin said. ‘What then?’

  ‘We go and get the Treasure.’

  ‘An island is a big place,’ Venture said slowly. ‘And there are other considerations.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Such as, what do we tell Atticus Harper?’

  ‘You really don’t trust him, do you?’ Matt said. ‘Just because he got stroppy with me and Robin for hacking into his computers. You can’t blame him really.’

  ‘I don’t blame him at all. And I don’t necessarily mistrust him either. But trust has to be earned, and whatever he really knows and whatever his motives truly are, he hasn’t been entirely honest with us. Look.’

  Venture tapped away on the keyboard, and Matt turned his attention to the screen on the wall. It showed a list of files and documents.

  ‘That’s the stuff he gave us to work from,’ Matt said.

  ‘Exactly so. The very same files. But with just one slight difference. Let me list them here in date order, so you can see which were created or modified most recently. And you’ll see there are even a couple of new files here, created just yesterday. Files we’ve not seen before. Other files have been altered, updated, recently.’

  The list reorganised itself as Matt watched. Each file had a date printed beside it on the screen. He could see from the clock at the bottom of the screen that it was just after seven in the morning. ‘So?’

  ‘So, explain to me how some of these documents were changed, or even created, after your father apparently disappeared?’

  Matt stared at the screen. ‘Maybe they’re notes and things that someone scanned in afterwards.’

  ‘Some of them. But not all. There’s some original work here. Which means …’

  Matt hardly dared to think what it might mean. ‘He lied about when Dad vanished?’ he said.

  ‘Possibly, but why do that? It’s more likely, don’t you think, that Harper has someone else still working on finding the Treasure.’

  ‘So, we aren’t the only people he’s got looking for it?’

  ‘At the very least,’ Venture said quietly, ‘Mr Harper is not telling us the whole truth. I’d like to know what else he isn’t telling us. And I’d like to know why he has what Robin describes as a very accurate computer model of this pyramid that shows another ancient site buried beneath it.’ He clicked a key and the screen went blank. ‘Wouldn’t you?’

  ‘So what’s the plan, then?’ Matt asked.

>   ‘I shall tell Harper of our deductions, though I think I shall be vague about why we think Valdeholm is the most likely location for the Treasure. While I keep him occupied with that, you and Robin can take a look round and see what you can find rather closer to home.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ Robin said.

  Matt agreed. ‘But can we have breakfast first?’

  ‘I don’t know what you think we’re going to find down here,’ Matt said. ‘Apart from maybe a wine cellar and the dustbins.’

  After breakfast, Venture had gone with Harper to his study to explain their theories about the island of Valdeholm. Robin and Matt had managed to slip away while Katherine Feather was taking a phone call, and now Robin had led Matt to a narrow, winding stone staircase that descended from the ground floor into the depths of the pyramid.

  ‘If we knew what we were going to find, we wouldn’t have to come looking,’ she told him. She stopped abruptly on the stairs, and Matt almost cannoned into her. ‘I wonder where this came from,’ she said, pointing down at her feet.

  The steps were sprinkled with sand. They were lit at floor level by tiny, bright lamps set into the wall and Matt could see the lines where someone had made an indifferent job of brushing the sand away.

  ‘Probably fell from the ceiling,’ he said.

  ‘I doubt it.’ Robin continued down.

  The stairs led to a large area with passages leading off it. A pile of cardboard boxes stood against one wall. Matt found the top box was full of tinned fruit. He guessed the others were also food and provisions. ‘I told you – storage. This is where they keep the food and toilet rolls.’

  But Robin wasn’t listening. She was standing in front of a large tapestry that hung on one of the walls, reaching right down to the floor. ‘According to Harper’s computer model, this is where the steps down to the ruins should be.’

  ‘You don’t think it was just a model?’ Matt had pretty much decided the same himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find much evidence of an earlier building – the pyramid must have been built right over it. He looked up at the tapestry Robin had meant – a faded, almost threadbare map of the world. It was obviously very old and the landmasses were distorted and out of shape. It reminded him of the book of maps in his Dad’s study. ‘Anyway, how can you be sure? It could have been any of these other doors.’