Ironheart

by Allan Boroughs

  ‘Calculus!’ Verity called out as they retreated. ‘Hold them off – but no fatalities, please.’ She dragged India back to the house and pulled her into the doorway, out of sight of the crowd.

  ‘Will Calculus be all right?’ said India. ‘Shouldn’t we help him?’

  ‘Never mind about him,’ said Verity. ‘I’ve put you in danger by coming here. The sooner we leave, the better for all of you. Can you help me get to my bike?’

  India’s mind raced. ‘What about Dad’s journals? That’s what you came for, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’d give them to me?’ said Verity cautiously.

  ‘I might, but you’d need to do something for me in return.’ India took a deep breath. ‘I want to come with you, I want to get away from here and go to Siberia to find my dad.’

  Verity shook her head. ‘Sorry, India, I don’t take passengers. I can see what’s going on here, but believe me, there’s far worse things that could happen to you than marrying Mr Clench. At least here you’ll be safe.’

  ‘You don’t understand,’ said India. ‘Nobody knows what happened to my dad and nobody seems to care except me.’

  ‘Put it out of your head, India,’ said Verity firmly. ‘Siberia is the most hostile place on Earth and I’m afraid Mrs Bentley was right: your dad is probably dead.’

  ‘Everybody says that! But you don’t know my dad – he’s smart and he knows how to survive. Besides, I made him a promise that if he was ever lost, I’d come and find him.’ She stopped. For the second time that evening she had said more than she meant to. ‘All right then,’ she bargained. ‘If you won’t help me find my dad, how about you just take me as far as Angel Town? I’ll give you the journals in return for a cut of the money and then you’ll never have to see me again. But if you don’t take me, I’ll make sure you never get the journals. I’ll burn them myself if I have to.’

  ‘Jeez,’ said Verity, blowing out her cheeks. ‘You do drive a hard bargain, don’t you? All right then, get me the journals. I’ll take you to Angel Town and give you ten per cent of my fee, but then you’re on your own, understood?’

  ‘Fifty per cent,’ said India, giving her a hard look.

  ‘Twenty, and that’s my final offer. Otherwise you can stay here and become Mrs Clench, for all I care.’

  India nodded and they shook hands solemnly.

  Back inside the house, Roshanne and Clench stood behind the kitchen table looking like frightened animals. India looked into Bella’s wide, unblinking eyes and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

  ‘I’ll get the journals,’ said India. She moved towards the stairs but Clench grabbed her.

  ‘Now, wait just a minute,’ he said, looking at Verity. ‘Mrs Bentley is the proper owner of those journals and they’re staying here until I can negotiate a fair price for them on behalf of the family. As for my fiancée –’ he took a tighter grip on India’s arm – ‘she will learn to do as she’s told.’

  India twisted frantically in Clench’s grip. ‘Get off me, you pig!’ she shouted. ‘I’m not staying here! You don’t own me and I am NOT your fiancée!’

  ‘Damn it, India,’ he said. ‘If I’m going to be your husband you need to understand what obedience means.’

  He struck her hard across the face. The slap made a noise like a pistol shot and everyone froze in shock. Bella turned deathly pale and even Clench seemed taken aback by his own action. India stared at Clench in disbelief and touched her red-hot cheek. Then a rage took hold of her. She flew at Clench and raked his face with her nails. He struggled to control the spitting, screaming girl and raised his hand to strike her again. But she was too quick for him. In an instant the shock stick was in her hand and she jabbed him with it hard between his eyes.

  There was a sound like a piece of dry timber being snapped in half and the smell of electrical burning filled the room. Clench’s body flew backwards with a violent spasm. He crashed across the table and lay spreadeagled on the floor, twitching and jerking, a string of snot running from his nose. There was silence, save for the crackling of the shock stick.

  ‘Stay here,’ said India to Verity. ‘Don’t you dare move.’

  Upstairs, she collected her father’s satchel and stuffed it with the things she thought she might need in Siberia. Clean clothes, bottled water, her father’s hunting knife. Then she went to her father’s bookcase, which held twenty identical black journals, one for each year he had worked in Siberia. She pulled out the last two and put them into the bag before dashing downstairs, pulling on her thick, waxy jacket as she went.

  Clench was still on the floor, groaning. India stepped over him and went to Bella, who sat hugging her knees in an armchair.

  ‘Are you leaving?’ said Bella in a small, frightened voice.

  India nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Bella, but I have to.’ She looked at Clench. ‘You understand why, don’t you?’ Bella nodded dumbly. ‘I’m going to find Dad, Bella. I’m going to find him and bring him back – then we’ll be a family again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Can I come with you?’ said Bella in a whisper.

  ‘I’m sorry, it’s too dangerous,’ said India, trying desperately not to cry in front of her sister. A thought struck her and she pulled out her pendant from beneath her shirt. ‘Here, do you have your pendant? The one Dad made you?’

  ‘In my room,’ said Bella.

  ‘I want you to do something for me. Every night when you look at the stars, I want you to hold your pendant and think of me and I’ll do the same. Every night until I get back with Dad – can you do that?’

  Bella nodded miserably. India hugged her little sister and then turned away so that Bella wouldn’t see her tears.

  She ignored Roshanne, who scowled angrily but made no move to stop her as she went to the door. But as India stepped over Clench, he reached out and grasped the leg of her trousers.

  ‘You won’t get far . . .’ he croaked. ‘You’ll come crying back to me before you’ve gone ten miles.’ Then he flopped backwards on to the floor, gasping for breath.

  India stopped and kneeled down beside him. You’d better not be here when I get back,’ she hissed into his ear. ‘Because I’m going to fetch my dad.’

  She stared at him contemptuously for a moment, then stood and hefted the bag on to her shoulder. ‘Come on,’ she said to Verity. ‘We’re done here.’

  She hitched up the window in the hallway and threw her leg over the sill in a practised move. After helping Verity, she led her swiftly through a thin line of trees down to the shoreline.

  They waded as silently as they could towards the upturned bike and turned it over. It was caked with thick mud and the sidecar was partially filled with water. Verity cleared the mud from the exhaust pipe and swung her leg over the saddle as India kept an anxious eye on the crowd at the front of the house.

  ‘Get in, quickly!’ said Verity. ‘They’ll hear us as soon as I start her up.’ India threw in her bag and clambered into the watery sidecar as Verity applied her weight to the kick-starter. The bike turned over noisily but didn’t fire. She tried again without success. By now they had attracted the attention of the crowd and fresh shouting broke out. A group of men ran towards them, led by Mehmet. There was a loud pop and an angry insect snicked past India’s ear.

  ‘India, get your head down, they’re shooting at us!’ Verity kicked the starter again and this time the engine roared to life. She twisted the throttle and the bike accelerated through the shallow waters, scattering the villagers like a flock of birds. As they gunned up the hill, Calculus seized the opportunity to jump on the back of the bike and they swept past the mob and into the surrounding darkness.

  ‘Nice to see you, Calc,’ shouted Verity. ‘Did you miss me?’

  ‘I’m glad you could get here, Mrs Brown,’ he said.

  Verity leaned over the sidecar and shouted to India. ‘You still in one piece, kid?’

  India swallowed hard and nodded. ‘I think so. Is everyone all right – back ther
e, I mean?’

  ‘Some broken bones and superficial injuries,’ said Calculus. ‘Nothing major, but I suspect your neighbours will not welcome us back any time soon.’

  India sat back in the damp seat and waited for her heart to stop thumping as the bike slithered down the mud track, away from the village. That was true, she thought, that was very true.

  CHAPTER 5

  THE AURORA QUEEN

  Verity drove like a woman possessed, and the motorcycle slithered and fishtailed along muddy tracks, barely slowing for bends. India got the impression that Verity had not been riding a motorcycle for very long and she had to throw her own weight around in the sidecar to stop them from overturning. Calculus had climbed off the bike and was running alongside them, easily keeping pace no matter how fast they went.

  They drove for an hour through the broken streets of the dead city until the shattered buildings gradually gave way to open fields and muddy tracks. India longed to stretch her legs and she was glad when they finally pulled to a halt beside a broad estuary. They looked out over a sheet of oily, black water and stinking, tidal mud. Verity checked her watch.

  ‘They’re late,’ she muttered. ‘The Aurora Queen is supposed to be here by now.’

  ‘The Aurora Queen?’ said India. ‘Is that a boat?’

  ‘Better than that,’ said Verity, scanning the skies. ‘A plane, the fastest way to the cold country – and so it should be for what I pay the Smiley Brothers.’

  Verity inspected the bike and kicked at the front wheel, which had gone flat.

  ‘Damn! I’m going to have to repair it. The villagers took the spare.’ She set about removing the wheel and dragging the punctured tyre down to the water’s edge. ‘Stay alert, Calc,’ she called out. ‘This is dangerous country.’

  Calculus had taken the opportunity to build a fire. He opened a small tin and tipped some black leaves into boiling water. ‘Would you like some tea?’ he asked India.

  India took the steaming mug gratefully. The tea was black and scalding and felt good as it slid down her throat. She watched the android carefully as he sat down. ‘Are you all right?’ she said. ‘You were very brave taking on that lot on your own. Weren’t you scared?’

  ‘I am quite all right, thank you, India,’ he said. ‘And I am programmed to have no fear, otherwise I might hesitate in my duty.’

  ‘Then it’s true what Mehmet said?’ she asked. ‘You are a military droid?’

  ‘I was once,’ he corrected. ‘But I no longer carry weapons and I have no wish to be remembered as a war machine.’

  ‘What would happen if you were ordered to kill someone?’ she said. ‘Androids have to follow their programming, don’t they?’

  ‘That,’ he said, stoking the fire thoughtfully, ‘is a very interesting question.’

  A long silence followed. India thought it might be polite to change the subject. ‘Where did you meet Mrs Brown?’ she said.

  ‘She found me in a factory, where I had been buried in the mud for over a century. She reset my base codes and repaired my damaged parts.’ He tapped the steel sheet in his chest, which rang hollow. ‘She is really quite talented, you know.’

  ‘Are there any others like you?’ India thought again how cool it would be to have your own android.

  Calculus made a noise that might have been a sigh and began to tidy away the tea things. ‘No,’ he said brusquely. ‘there are no more like me.’ He turned his back and began to pack the bags. India wondered again whether she had offended him in some way. Just then, Verity returned from the water’s edge, cheerfully dragging the mended tyre.

  ‘So what do you think of this baby?’ she said, slapping the side of the bike. ‘She’s over a hundred years old. I borrowed her from a friend of mine and I think I’m getting used to her. When we get paid in Angel Town I might see if he wants to sell her to me, provided I can get the gas. God damn it!’ She swore loudly as the spanner slipped, skinning her knuckles.

  ‘Will Mr Stone pay you for the journals when we get there?’ said India, wondering how much money was twenty per cent.

  Verity laughed. ‘I doubt it – I’ve never even met the man. I just deliver the goods to his office and his minions give me the cash.’

  ‘But aren’t you interested in how he’s going to feed the world and do all those other things you said?’

  ‘My job is to find the stuff,’ said Verity. ‘I’m not paid to ask questions.’ She stopped working and looked at India with a serious expression. ‘When we get to Angel Town I need you to do exactly as I say Tech-hunting attracts the worst lowlifes, murderers and cut-throats. I need to get the money and get out as quickly as possible without attracting attention. Do you understand?’

  India nodded.

  Verity went back to work on the wheel. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said from under the bike, ‘as soon as we get the cash, you’ll get your share and then you can do as you please. Once you’ve got a bit of money to your name, creeps like Clench won’t be able to touch you.’

  ‘Perhaps, after I’ve found my dad, I could buy a scav-boat and go looking for salvage,’ said India. ‘Maybe I could even drill my own well.’

  ‘Smart plan,’ said Verity, giving the wheel one last tightening. ‘OK, we’re ready to go.’ She wiped her hands on a greasy rag. ‘Now where the hell is the Aurora Queen?’

  They sat beside the water with chattering teeth and scanned the skies. After half an hour India jumped up and pointed excitedly to a silent, blue-white line scratching its way across the sky.

  ‘That’s just a shooting star,’ said Verity. ‘The ice people believe every person in the world has their own star, and when you die, it falls to Earth.’ India watched the fading streak and shivered.

  ‘Twin engines,’ said Calculus suddenly, ‘approaching from the east.’

  At first India could hear nothing, but then she caught the faintest hum of an engine carried towards them on the breeze.

  Verity turned on the bike’s headlamp. ‘Get ready to move quickly,’ she said. ‘They won’t want to stay down long in this neck of the woods.’

  The noise was constant now, an unmistakable droning of aircraft engines. A bright light pierced the cloud and the dark shape of the plane appeared. Its broad body was shaped like the hull of a fishing smack with two big outriggers under the propellers.

  ‘Flying boat,’ said Verity with a grin. ‘The only way to travel in a flooded country.’

  The plane hit the water in a burst of spray and foam, and the smell of aircraft fuel wafted over the water. Verity lit another cigar while it taxied into the shallows, and India stared open-mouthed at the enormous machine.

  Two men with oil-black hair and greasy overalls climbed from the cockpit and waded towards them. India guessed that they were the Smiley Brothers but they looked sullen and dangerous. They conversed with Verity in low voices, all the while casting suspicious looks at India. They were clearly unhappy at having to take another passenger but, after Verity passed them some money, it was agreed. With the help of Calculus, they started to manhandle the bike into the hold of the aircraft.

  ‘Let’s get a move on,’ said Verity. ‘The engine noise will have attracted every bandit within five miles of here.’

  India gathered the bags and climbed the short ladder to the plane. She had never seen a plane up close before and she was utterly captivated by the Aurora Queen. The fuselage was painted a vibrant red and white and the cabin smelled of leather and polish. Verity led her to a functional canvas seat and showed her how to fasten her seatbelt.

  The take-off was thrilling. The engines vibrated powerfully and the plane bounced across the water, breaching the waves like a porpoise, making greater and greater leaps until they were suddenly airborne. India’s stomach dropped away as the plane climbed hard and banked into the night sky.

  She was disappointed that there was little to see in the darkness apart from the fires of the tyre-burners strung out along the estuary shore. Verity was busy making notes and Calcul
us was sitting quietly with his hands folded in his lap. She reached into her bag and pulled out one of the journals. It was battered and dog-eared and filled with dense notes written in an engineer’s copperplate script. She had often thumbed through the books, fascinated by the descriptions of remote landscapes and the diagrams showing cross-sections of the land and the inner workings of pump systems. But she had never seen anything in them that talked of a hidden ark, or nomads, or any of the other exciting things Verity had mentioned.

  ‘You should let Calc take a look at those,’ said Verity, reading her thoughts. ‘If there’s anything useful in there he’ll find it.’

  India shut the book with a snap and looked at Verity suspiciously. ‘If I give them to you now, you’ll have what you want and you won’t need me any more.’

  Verity sighed. ‘And what do you think I’m going to do when I get my hands on your journals, India? Throw you out of the plane? Look, if you’re going to be my business associate you’re going to have to start trusting me because when we get to Angel Town, me and Calc are going to be the only friends you’ve got. Now, how about you let him have a look at those journals?’

  India couldn’t help grinning. ‘Is that what I am then, your business associate?’

  Verity laughed. ‘Sure thing, kid. So how about it, can he have a look?’

  ‘OK, but I want to look at them myself first,’ said India. ‘He can read them when we land.’

  She returned to the book in her lap and tried to imagine a land filled with wild creatures, ice people and oil prospectors where the wind of adventure might blow across the ice at any moment and carry you away.

  Then something caught her eye. Tucked away, at the bottom of a dull page describing rock strata, was a single sentence that her father had underlined. Her blood chilled when she read the words: ‘There’s something wrong with the sky.’

  CHAPTER 6

  ANGEL TOWN

  She struggled to pull her feet free of the thick mud as the southsiders chased her across the tidal flats. They leered and snarled through yellowed teeth and reached for her with bony, spidery fingers. But the more she looked back at their scowling wicked faces the more they looked like Thaddeus Clench and Roshanne Bentley dressed in wedding clothes.