by Chris Ryan
She nodded. ‘Absolutely.’
Ben eased the nose down, hoping a shallow dive would give them extra speed. The red dusty landscape filled his windscreen. Normally, if you were flying in a strong wind you could see its effects, but because there were no trees everything looked eerily still. The only sign was the red horizon blurring into the cobalt sky, as though it was being brushed vigorously.
Ben’s manoeuvre worked and the craft picked up a little speed. But as soon as he eased off the throttle or let the nose level out, they slowed right down, almost to stall speed.
‘That is some strong wind,’ said Kelly. ‘We are going to burn up a lot of fuel—’
Her words ended in a scream that made Ben jump in his seat.
‘Arghh! Get it off me!’ She looked down at her flying suit and scrubbed at her legs with her bandage-mittened hands. ‘Get it off!’ She jerked her leg like Ben had when he was trying to get rid of the spider.
Ben pointed the nose down into another shallow dive. The plane would keep that course on its own for a few seconds while he tried to help Kelly. She was wriggling frantically, jerking both legs up and down. But as far as Ben could see, there was nothing on her.
‘Kelly, I can’t see it – what is it? Another spider?’ She rubbed her hands furiously along her legs, as if trying to brush something away. ‘Get it off! Get it off me!’ She was becoming hysterical.
Ben still couldn’t see anything. He looked up and down her legs and in the foot well, expecting another set of spidery legs or some other creepy crawly. He remembered the leaflet he’d read in the hotel, which listed a whole army of deadly nasties. What else had got in with that spider? Had it bitten her?
Kelly shuddered. The movement went through her whole body. ‘They’re all over me,’ she said in a high, panicky voice. She was battering at her flying suit with her mittened hands, heedless of the pain. Her feet thundered on the pedals and the microlight shook from side to side.
Ben leaned over. He couldn’t see anything – either on her or in the foot well – although it was difficult to know for sure because she would not keep still.
Kelly looked at him with wild eyes. ‘Do something! They’re crawling all over me!’ She shook violently again, but this time, mercifully, with her feet away from the pedals. Her blonde hair came free of her baseball cap.
Ben made a decision. He couldn’t continue flying with her in that state. He would have to find somewhere to land.
He looked out of the window and got a surprise. They must have gone quite a distance because instead of featureless red terrain he saw a cluster of isolated buildings and a huge white dome.
He’d aim for that. It was his best hope of getting help.
Beside him, Kelly shuddered and batted the air. Maybe she was having some kind of fit. Or maybe something had bitten her and she was reacting to poison.
‘Kelly,’ said Ben, ‘I’m going to land. Talk me through it.’
Kelly was trying to scratch herself but the bandages stopped her. ‘Just get us down!’ she managed to say.
Ben felt a trickle of cold sweat down the back of his neck. She wasn’t going to be any help. He would have to take the plane down on his own.
He tried to remember what they’d done before. He had to find a long, straight stretch of clear ground to use as a runway – well, that shouldn’t be a problem. He brought the plane down to 500 feet and studied the layout. A high steel mesh fence enclosed an area of several acres. As well as several long single-storey sheds there was a large white dome. The ground between the buildings was striped with vehicle tracks. He wondered if it might be some kind of power station. But why out here in the desert, a thousand kilometres from civilization?
At one end was a clear stretch of land with no buildings on it, only a fence. There were no rocks strewn across it either – that was a bonus. It seemed tailor-made for landing a plane. There was also a bright orange windsock fluttering gently against a flagpole. Well, you couldn’t get more handy than that. Except … he couldn’t remember. Was he meant to land into the wind or against it?
And now he thought about it, where had that strong wind disappeared to? The microlight was steering easily again. The orange windsock down below was hardly stirring.
Kelly gave another scream and squirmed in the seat. She put her wrist up to her mouth and tried to tear at the bandages with her teeth. Ben put his hand out and pushed her hand away, stopping her.
She rewarded him with a snarl. ‘I need to scratch!’
He had to let go of her wrist. He needed both hands on the controls. Especially as he was now at 300 feet. ‘Fine,’ he snapped back. ‘Don’t blame me if the burns go septic then.’
Kelly bit the bandage and pulled.
Outside the window, the features on the ground were getting bigger. Before, Kelly had made him fly circles over his intended landing site to check it out. There was no time for that now.
The plane started to wobble as it encountered air currents stirred up from the ground. Ben worked the pedals and stick to keep it level. I can do this, he thought. Easy peasy.
He looked at his airspeed. Still 70 knots – cruising speed. They needed to be going slower. He’d forgotten about that. He pushed the throttle right down.
The revs needle dropped and above his head the engine fell suddenly silent. He’d closed it down too far. The plane had stalled!
He opened the throttle a little more, his heart in his mouth. Fortunately the engine restarted, its beat steady and true.
He was lined up on his runway now. The ground was a lot closer. He could see pebbles like the grain in an old photo when you enlarged it.
Suddenly the plane lurched. The altimeter dropped to 20 feet. Then it swung the other way to 2000. The airspeed needle beat from side to side like a windscreen wiper. The GPS screen went blank, then flashed up a message in block capitals: ERROR.
‘That doesn’t happen in Microsoft Flight Simulator,’ thought Ben.
He tapped the dials, then looked at Kelly, hoping for help. She was unravelling her right bandage, twitching her shoulders up and down to try to scratch them on the inside of her jumpsuit.
His instruments were going haywire. Now how would he get down safely?
Outside, the ground was very close. The vehicle tracks had become distinct tyre marks and were getting further and further apart. He tried to guess how far he had to go but his unpractised eye hadn’t a clue. He’d just have to guess.
He put the throttle right down and eased the nose up.
It suddenly occurred to him that if the instruments were out, the controls might not work either.
The front wheel bumped on the ground, then the back wheels followed it with a thump. Not the right way to get down, but at least they were on the ground. The only problem now was stopping.
The engine stalled again. He’d landed closer to the end fence than he intended and was freewheeling towards it at high speed.
He squeezed on the brakes hard. The nose slewed round and his view of the fence disappeared in a cloud of red dust.
He only hoped the brakes would pull them up before they slammed into the fence.
Something prodded his chest so hard it made him jump in his seat. It was like the kick of an electric shock. He took his left hand off the throttle and brushed it away, but the sensation seemed to jump to his leg. He jerked his leg and the plane swung around as his foot caught the pedal. Something ran up his spine – something that felt like it had a lot of legs. He forgot about the brake and the pedals, let go of the stick and tried to undo his seat belt so that he could get this creature off him. Another one ran across his shoulder. Then they started coming up his thighs and arms. He tried to get them off, his hands flailing against the roof of the cockpit and the window.
Gradually the awful crawling sensation stopped. He realized the plane had stopped too. Kelly had her bandaged hands around the brake like pincers. Cautiously she let go and sat up slowly. One bandage was trailing from her right hand. Outsid
e the windscreen the dust was settling. They had stopped just metres from the steel mesh fence. At a speed similar to fifty miles an hour it would have sliced them like cheese in a grater.
Kelly let out a long breath. ‘You felt it too?’
She seemed to be normal again.
Ben was still getting his breath back. ‘Yeah. What was it?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Kelly. ‘I thought it was insects or something at first. But it was more like an electric shock.’
Ben nodded. ‘Maybe there’s some exposed wiring.’
Kelly put her arm up to wipe the sweat away from her forehead and looked at the trailing bandage in surprise. She held it out to Ben. ‘I don’t think I should have done this.’
She hadn’t actually managed to get much of it off. While Ben tied it up around her wrist she looked over the back of the seat. ‘I wonder where we are … Uh-oh.’ She went tense.
Ben turned in the seat and looked behind them. The dust was blowing up again. Was it a dust storm?
Then they saw a big bright light looming out of the sky like a spotlight, and heard the noise. The entire sky was roaring. The light was getting lower and closer. What was it?
Next they made out the high whine of jet engines.
A big shadow like an arrowhead began to take shape in the swirling dust.
‘That’s a plane,’ said Kelly. ‘A very big plane. And we’re on the end of its runway.’
Ben turned the ignition key. The engine coughed and spluttered but wouldn’t turn over.
Kelly waved her paw at him. ‘There must be dust in the filter. Quick, get out!’
Ben snapped the door catch up and jumped out of the microlight. He ran round to Kelly’s side, noticing as he did so that the plane was looming bigger in the sky, its engine noise deafening. He released the catch on her door and she tumbled out and started running. They sprinted along the fence, away from the approaching monster.
The light was under the plane’s belly. It illuminated a vast grey fuselage and a big row of wheels. The back wheels touched down and Ben felt the impact reverberate through his bones. The nose came down, obscuring the light on the belly of the craft. A wave of sand blasted towards him and Kelly. They shrank back against the fence, shielding their eyes with their hands. The engines screamed in their ears as the pilot put the brakes on.
The engine whine diminished. When they opened their eyes, the plane had slowed right down to a sedate taxiing speed. The clouds of dust were settling around it.
The plane came towards them and then turned. Ben and Kelly gasped.
It was massive – almost as long as a football field and as high as a six-storey building; big and grey with a rounded nose. The wheeled undercarriage alone was huge – a mass of wheels and struts.
Kelly was transfixed by the plane. ‘Unless I’m very much mistaken,’ she said, ‘that is a Galaxy Starlifter. It can take off and land on a dime. It doesn’t need a runway or air traffic control because it’s got all the weather radar on board. It can fit six entire Greyhound buses in its hold.’ She was back in teacher mode.
‘Delivering buses by plane?’ said Ben. ‘Isn’t that like buying a dog and barking yourself?’
‘I thought you’d be impressed. That’s one of the world’s largest aircraft. It travels as fast as a jet plane. Don’t boys like things like that?’
Ben was definitely impressed – it was just more fun not to show it.
The plane was heading for the open doors of a giant hangar. At the front end, the nose sprang open and folded back over the cockpit. It looked like someone had cut the nose off a shark and hinged it upwards. The dust settled a little more, enough for them to see there was lettering on the plane’s tail: USAF – United States Air Force. Then the doors closed. All that remained of the plane was the red dust blowing over its massive wheel-ruts.
‘There’s your real big bird that disappears,’ mused Ben.
Kelly stood up straight. ‘We’re on home turf,’ she said. ‘These guys are Americans. I think we’d better go and say hello.’
‘It’s your home turf,’ grumbled Ben as he set off behind her. ‘You Americans – you think you own the world.’
In the distance, a figure was standing outside one of the huts. He wore a military-looking uniform of faded blue. He seemed to be on a smoking break. He threw a cigarette butt down onto the ground and stubbed it out with his foot. Then he opened the door and went back inside.
Kelly looked around. The microlight was close to the perimeter fence, in the shadow of the gigantic dome. ‘I think we can leave our little buzzmobile here. It’s not in anybody’s way. Come on.’ She pushed her headset down around her neck like a torque and set off in the direction of the door, bandaged hands swinging purposefully. She looked a peculiar figure: her flying suit grimy with desert dust, open to the navel to reveal her orange T-shirt, headset discarded around her neck, bandaged hands like two white mittens. Ben looked down at his own flying suit. It was none too clean either. He tried to brush the worst of it off as he walked. Somehow he thought it might not make a good impression to look as if he’d just climbed out of a dumper truck.
It took them a good five minutes just to walk past the dome. It was massive: at least 80 feet tall – only half as tall as the Millennium Dome, but then that wasn’t out in the middle of the Australian desert. The surface was covered in a thick white plastic material. It looked like a set for a Star Wars movie.
Ben’s mind was working furiously as he walked along beside Kelly. An American base in the middle of the Australian desert? He felt in his pocket and pulled out the flyer from Oz Protectors:
Not far from Adelaide, in the Great Victoria Desert, the Americans built a listening station. Ever since, the people of Coober Pedy have been stricken by a number of strange sicknesses.
‘Kelly,’ said Ben, showing her the leaflet, ‘do you remember this? This is the place they’re talking about.’
‘Probably.’ Kelly nodded.
‘It’s the place that’s been making everyone sick in Coober Pedy.’
‘Oh, that’s just anti-American propaganda.’
Ben shrugged. It probably was, but as he tucked the flyer back into his pocket he had a moment of déjà vu: putting the flyer in that same pocket while the café owner in Coober Pedy said, I had this terrible itching. I thought my skin was crawling with insects …
They reached the door where they had seen the figure in the blue uniform. Kelly stood aside for Ben to open it.
He still had misgivings. ‘Should we really be here?’
Kelly glared at him. ‘Why not?’
He looked at that curled lip and the interrogating eyes and couldn’t quite think how to begin.
She didn’t give him long to explain. ‘Oh, don’t be a scaredy-cat. I’ve been on these bases before. My dad’s in the army, remember? It’ll be fine. Come on, let’s go in.’
Inside was a dark corridor and an open door into a lighted room. Kelly led the way.
The room was some kind of laboratory. Ben was reminded of pictures he’d seen of mission control in Houston during the Moon landings. Except that the whole place seemed to be manned by just two people. They were surrounded by so much electronic equipment that it took him a few seconds to spot them. Each man had three computer monitors. Along the walls were metal racks holding more banks of equipment covered with flashing lights. Some of the equipment had a home-made look. The knobs and lights were different sizes, as if they had been fitted at different times. The numbers and lettering on the labels didn’t match. It looked like a prototype machine that someone was constantly building and refining; like something out of Ben’s dad’s workshop in the back garden. Except that everything here was emblazoned with the insignia of the US army.
Both scientists wore the muted blue uniform. They seemed wrapped up in their work and didn’t take much notice of the newcomers. Ben’s dad was like that when he was concentrating.
‘The frequency’s stabilized,’ said one of the men
. A label on his shirt said his name was Grishkevich. He was looking at one of the screens. On it was a satellite picture like the ones on weather programmes. Grishkevich pressed a cursor key. The map view moved down a few centimetres. He looked at it carefully and then at another map picture on another screen, comparing them.
The other scientist, whose name tag said Hijkoop, looked over his shoulder at his screens.
‘It doesn’t seem to have made any difference,’ said Grishkevich. ‘The wind’s died down to five knots but it could kick up again any minute.’
‘Hi,’ said Kelly.
Grishkevich continued to ignore her but Hijkoop looked up. ‘Ah, you got here at last. Are you guys new? I haven’t seen you before.’
Grishkevich spoke too, but he kept his eyes glued to the screen. ‘Sorry – you must have had a rough ride on the way in. We’re having a lot of trouble with it today.’ He continued to move the picture with his cursor.
‘They’ll have breezed in with no trouble,’ said Hijkoop. ‘That crate is big enough to cope with a bit of bad weather. You guys must get much worse in Alaska.’
Ben realized the scientists thought they’d come in on the Galaxy Starlifter. Of course, with their flying suits and the headsets around their necks, it was a reasonable assumption to make. Although they obviously couldn’t have looked at Kelly properly because she looked more like a teenage tourist than a military scientist. And people always assumed that Ben was older than thirteen, though he was sure he didn’t look old enough to be in the army just yet.
Hijkoop chuckled. ‘Alaskan winter to Australian summer. I bet that’s a shock. Did you bring us some ice? We haven’t managed to make snow yet but we’re working on it.’
Grishkevich stood up. He brushed imaginary dust off his trousers. ‘OK, show us what you’ve got for us. I hope it’s not Alaska’s cast-offs.’
Ben was wondering if they could sneak out quietly before they got into trouble, but Kelly was determined to put them right. ‘We didn’t fly here from Alaska. We’ve just come from Adelaide.’
