Shell Shocked (The Cosmic Carapace, #1)

by Barnaby Yard

  ~~~~

  Mr Pall had arrived just moments too late to jump on the same carriage as the two people who had left the palace, but it didn’t matter. Now that they were on here, he could watch them from a distance and see exactly where they got off. He already had an idea though, the big house where he had sent men in, to gather up the tortoises. He hadn't known why Garsh had wanted the creatures, but he’d realised the house was special in some way from the way his former employer had spoken. The conductor in his carriage was standing as far away from him as possible, despite them being the only two in the thing. He hadn’t even had the nerve to ask him to buy a ticket. Normally they announced the stations as they approached them, but he had said nothing. The man and woman he was following hadn’t got off yet, but if they were going to the big house he’d visited, it would be soon.

  “What’s the next stop?” he asked the conductor out of the side of his mouth as he watched the other carriage, like a lion watching a zebra.

  “I..I..It’s Elephant and Castle Mister..” the man blustered. Mr Pall squinted out of the window at the small crowd which was filtering off of the carriage in front. The little group filtered out onto the platform and he saw the two figures he was following in between a small group in all white.

  ~~~~

  Nebwett stood back and looked at the what he had put together. The device he had made stood at one end of a long table. It was connected to a series of wires and brass tubes which ran along the stained wooden surface.

  “What does it do?” the twins asked in unison. They were stood along the edge of the table alongside Albert.

  “I’m ‘oping it will create a feedback loop what will go frew all the universes and break all the machines like this that there is.” There was a moment of silence while they unravelled this sentence in their minds. Albert caught up first.

  “What happens to the people operating it? Where do they end up?”

  “I’m not sure, but we’re gonna use a tortoise, so ‘ee might take us to where Miss Ness and Mr Blake are from.”

  “Might?...” Albert raised an eyebrow.

  “Well there might be a little issue around time...”

  ~~~~

  Not only was the old man still talking, he had now roped in a few friends to the task as well. By happy coincidence, they were all getting the same connection, switching lines to move up towards the park where Ingress sat. Becky and Spencer were hemmed in against the railing of the platform by the men, all enthusiastically pointing out the finer points of bowling when a man pushed through the crowd and stood in front of them. He lifted his right arm in front of him and made a twisting motion with his wrist. A blade shot out underneath his hand and he raised it in front of him menacingly.

  “Allo, I’m Mr Pall and you’re gonna give me that Miss, before something nasty ‘appens.” Becky looked down at the device in his hands and back up at the man. She paused for a moment, then swung the Vibobbler up towards Pall’s face. He saw it coming, and swerved his body backwards from the waist up, avoiding her, but sending himself off balance. Becky darted to the side, running full pelt into one of the old bowling players. Spencer, remained frozen to the spot, but as Pall recovered his balance and launched forward after Becky, he snapped out of it. He looked around desperately for some sort of weapon, but couldn’t see anything. Pall and Becky were now locked in a chase across the platform, she was heading to the stairs on the right but darted left at the last minute, turning back around towards the opposite side to where Spencer stood with the group of men.

  One of the men nudged him and he turned angrily towards him, annoyed he was being bothered while Becky was running for her life.

  “These might be handy?” The man said, holding out the large leather handbag he carried. Spencer was about to swear loudly at the old fool, when he looked at the bag, it's zip open, and saw what was inside.

  ~~~~

  “What do you mean, time?” Albert asked. Nebwett made a noise like air being let slowly out of a balloon.

  “Well I fink it could cause a bit of... time dilation.” There was a heavy silence in which everybody other than Nebwett tried to work out what he meant, and also how he knew these things. He clearly wasn’t Norbert.

  There was a crack of thunder from outside and rain began to beat against the high windows which displayed the city below through a grey mist.

  ~~~~

  Spencer reached into the bag the old man held out and pulled a large, heavy bowling ball from it. Becky and Pall were still in chase around the edge of the platform. He pushed through the old men and took aim. He’d been ten pin bowling before, but he’d been awful at it, he was trying hard not to think about that. He held the tortoise under his left arm and steadied himself. He watched the two figures running, trying to judge their speed so that he could aim ahead of them which would hopefully allow the ball to reach the other side of the platform just as Pall got there. He released the ball and realised that he had hopelessly misjudged the trajectory. It spun and bounced awkwardly across the uneven surface of the platform and headed straight for Becky. She saw it at the last minute and leapt over it, landing back to the floor in a full run, shouting loudly as she did so.

  “Spencer!” He turned to the group of men who were tutting and shaking their heads.

  “Couldn’t give us a hand could you?”

  “Right lads! Line up! This is gonna be like the time we had that ruckus with the Lang Street Bowl's Club!” There was some dark murmuring at the mention of this name, but all of the men formed an orderly line. Spencer jumped to the side to get out of the firing line. He looked up to see Becky reaching the far corner of the platform.

  “Becky!” he shouted. “Run to me!” She arced her run back round and headed towards him. He could see that Pall was tiring, Becky seemed to have limitless energy, she wasn’t even breathing heavily yet.

  “Now!” he shouted to the line of men who, as one, gracefully bent to one knee and released a line of the heavy bowls towards the oncoming Becky. When they were a few feet in front of her, she leapt high above them. At first, Spencer thought she had misjudged it, that she would land on top of them as she fell. He should have known better. She landed deftly the other side of them and continued running. He heard a noise from behind and turned to see their carriage coming into the station. Looking back, Pall had attempted to leap the oncoming balls as well, but had landed more awkwardly than Becky, falling to one knee.

  The carriage screeched in behind them, it’s metal grinding against the landing buffers. Becky ran straight past Spencer, grabbing his arm as she did so, pulling him towards the opening doors. They reached it and jumped in. Spencer looked back out at the platform and saw Pall on his feet again and running towards them.

  “Come on, come on...” Becky muttered next to him.

  “Tickets please.” A conductor had appeared behind them. Spencer grabbed him by the collar.

  “Can you make this thing leave, now!”

  “Excuse me!” The man stepped away and patted down his blue uniform jacket. “It is an offence to attack a member of Her Majesty’s Overground conductors you know!”

  “Yeah? Well Her Majesty just sent us here on a special mission, and if we don’t get away from that man.” He pointed out of the grimy window at Pall who was now close enough to see the light glint off the blade in his hand.

  “Oh, er. Sorry, I can’t make it go, it’s all automatic, on a timer.” The man blustered, but as he spoke there was the creak of the doors closing, and the carriage began to lurch from the platform. Pall had reached the edge as they left. He paused for a moment, then leapt. He thudded against the doors and stayed, hanging on to the frame which ran around them and standing on the small ledge which was designed to meet the platform.

  ~~~~

  Queen Lisandra was feeling much better. Two cups of tea and two large slices of Lisandra sponge cake (named after her by a loyal baker) had certainly helped calm her fury about what had been going on around here. She had planned
to have the two people she had released followed, but had changed her mind at the last minute. She had decided she just wanted to forget the whole nasty business, but now apparently, she wasn’t going to be able to.

  “What do you mean friends of his?” She was staring at the guard who had brought her news of the visitor with such intensity, his eyes were watering.

  “Well, he’s sort of demanding to speak to you ma’am ‘cause he thinks you’ve got his friends. He said one was a woman with sticky out hair, and the other was some bloke who may or may not be carrying a tortoise.” The Queen breathed deeply through her nose. The man began to shake slightly.

  “Send him into me.” She spoke quietly, the man scurried off, grateful to get out while he still had all of his body parts attached. A moment later, a tall blonde man entered, barely fitting through the wide door his shoulders were so broad.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, bowing deeply. “My name is Colin, and I demand to see my friends this instant.”

  The Queen stared at him. People who demanded things from her, tended to have the kind of life expectancy that meant you probably shouldn’t bother booking a table for dinner that night. This man though, this man was different. She looked into his blue, defiant eyes, following down along the strong jawline to his barrel chest.

  “Your friends are fine, they are... running a little errand for me, and will be back shortly. Meanwhile, you will join me for dinner.” Colin’s stance softened.

  “Your Majesty, it would be an honour to dine with such a rare beauty as yourself.” He bowed even lower than before.

  Despite herself, Queen Lisandra felt herself blushing.

  ~~~~

  “How far to the next station?” Spencer asked the conductor who was in a complete state of panic at the sight of someone clinging on to the outside of the carriage.

  “This will be my job it will! I’m for the chop now!”

  “How long?!”

  “Oh, about fifteen minutes.”

  Spencer turned back to the figure of Pall who stared malevolently through the discoloured glass.

  “We need to knock him off,” said Becky next to him. He turned to her in surprise. It was pretty clear Becky was a great deal tougher than her diminutive size suggested, but he hadn’t had her pegged as a killer. “Don’t look at me like that.” She snapped. “He’s going to kill us the second we land at the next station, we’ve got fifteen minutes to do something about it.” Spencer walked over to the conductor who had slumped on one of the wooden benches which ran round the edge of the carriage.

  “Can we open the doors from in here?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “The doors only unlock when the catch at the top is hooked by the platform as we come in to a station.”

  “Where’s this catch?” Spencer asked, already knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer. The conductor looked up over Spencer’s shoulder at the ceiling of the carriage.

  “Up there.”

  There was a small hatch built into the roof, locked with a bolt from the inside. Presumably it was for maintenance. Spencer sighed.

  “Come on then, you can give me a boost up.”

  “What?! You’re not going out there?!” The man looked as horrified as Spencer felt. Becky tore herself away from staring at Pall and came over. Spencer explained what he was going to do.

  “I’ll go, I’m more agile than you and I’m good with heights.” Her hands were planted fully on her hips, suggesting she meant business.

  “You won’t reach,” said Spencer, positioning the conductor, who was looking decidedly pale, under the hatch and placing his hands together. Becky huffed, but realised he was right. Spencer placed the tortoise on the floor and put his foot in the conductor’s hand, pushing himself up. He reached the bolt and slid it backward, then pushed against the hatch with his fingers. As soon as he had raised it an inch it swung open violently in the wind, cracking against the roof of the carriage and sending an echo round its metal walls. He stretched up and could just about get his hands over either edge. He pulled himself as hard as he could, but wasn’t moving. He could feel the conductor swaying under him, then suddenly, a hand grabbed his other foot. He looked down to see Becky, who with a grunt, heaved him up far enough to get his elbow over the edge to pull himself up.

  As his head emerged, the wind whipped at it, stinging his eyes. The air was freezing as he brought his knees up and swung them over the edge of the opening he had come through onto the hard metal roof. The wind roared in his ears as he looked around, looking for the catch that would open the doors and send Pall plummeting to his death. He saw them. There were two, one above each set of doors, right on the edge of the roof. His heart sank. He was going to have to crawl across, right to the edge. He had planned on staying very central. He lowered his body as much as he could, hoping to avoid being blown from the top by the wind. Despite the noise and the buffeting of the wind, he could still feel his heart hammering in his chest.

  It was slow progress, he inched across the metal in a commando crawl. At one point he thought he heard Becky’s voice, but he put it down to the wind. As he neared the edge, he saw the catch. It stuck up from the roof about half a foot. A large hook which curved round into a dull point which stuck from the top a squat cylinder. He tried to slow his breathing and remain calm as he crawled the last few feet to the hook, the wind howling across him, the carriage rocking slowly beneath him. Finally, after what seemed like forever, his hand reached the hook. Now he was up close, he saw that the catch was just a small piece of metal which ran down from the hooks blunt point to the roof of the carriage. Once it was clicked back as it met the platforms hoop, the doors would open. He paused, thinking of Pall clinging to the doors over the side. Could he really kill someone? Knowingly send them plummeting to their death? He knew if they reached the next station, Pall would kill them both, probably the conductor too. Becky. He couldn’t let Pall harm her, but... kill?

  Suddenly, something caught his eye behind the hook... it was a hand. It had appeared over the edge, grabbing on to a recess in the metal roof which appeared to form the function of guttering. It was quickly followed by the face of Mr Pall. Spencer felt his hand move of its own accord, watching horror struck as it grabbed the catch and pushed it in. He heard the metallic clank of the doors beginning to open and looked up to see Pall’s face change into something like panic as he looked down, but it didn’t last long. The angle of Pall’s face changed, as though the bottom half of his body was being lifted up and away from the carriage, which, Spencer reasoned, it would be if it had been against the doors. His expression though had turned into a grin, he gave a bounce of some kind and then rose quickly over the side of the carriage roof, his feet having been planted on the top of the now open doors. He came across the roof in a fast and determined crawl, Spencer desperately tried to reverse back the way he had come, looking behind him to see where the hatch was. He was just a few feet from the hatch when Pall realised he wasn’t going to reach him before he vanished through. Pall stood up in a low crouch, swaying madly at first, almost losing his footing, but then righting himself and scampering towards Spencer. He had to do something, he had to stand up. He lifted his chest off the metal floor, pushing up like a pushup. He felt the tug of the wind immediately, dragging him sideways. He raised his knees and felt his feet slip sideways slightly, making his heart race even faster. Just as he felt he was able to start moving backwards, the carriage lurched violently to one side, sending him sprawling back to the floor. He looked up and saw that the carriage was switching lines, the four separate sets of wheels which ran along the thick cabling, were landing on another line as they passed a switch point. Relief washed over him as he looked up and saw Pall sprawled on the ground too, the motion clearly too much for him to move as well.

  After a few moments, the final mechanism clicked onto the new line, and the carriage arced off in a new direction. The wind had changed too, it was now blowing full into his face. Pall was already on the move and Spe
ncer rose to his hands and knees again to continue backwards towards the hatch. It was easier going without the side wind, he felt as though an invisible hand was helping to push him towards safety. A movement from Pall made him look up, he was opening his long leather coat and spreading it, holding the edges out wide. The wind caught them at once, blowing them out like sails. Pall stood to a low crouch and started to slide along the roof towards Spencer at speed. There was no way he would make the hatch before Pall reached him, he had to stand up. He moved to a crouch, planting his feet one in front of the other, bracing himself against the headwind. Pall was only a few feet from him now, he had to move. He started moving his feet backwards, his hands still on the floor in front of him, holding himself steady. He wasn’t moving fast enough, Pall was on him in a moment. He rose up, trying to hold his arms in front of him to protect against the blade that flashed at Pall’s wrist. A strong gust of wind erupted behind Pall, taking him by surprise, pushing him forward faster than he had expected. His legs clattered into Spencer's bowed head and shoulders, sending him toppling over head first towards the edge. Spencer felt himself knocked backwards, his coat whipped over his head as he slid backwards towards the edge.

  Spencer felt a hand grasp his ankle. He looked down and saw Pall, stretched fully, gripping on for his life. Pall’s coat was still catching in the wind, dragging them both towards the edge. Spencer tried to shake him off, but his grip was like a vice. He saw the hatch fly past him, then a sudden pull of weight from behind. Pall had gone over the edge, and he was taking Spencer with him.

  Spencer felt his feet leave the edge of the roof. He writhed in a final attempt to shake off Pall, twisting until he was on his back. He felt the edge now moving up along his body, Pall had already gone over and his weight pulled hard on his leg. With his coat still over his head blocking his sight, Spencer slipped over the edge.