by MG Leonard
There were three more fuel stops before he was deposited in a room to sleep again. This time they stayed on the ground for two days, waiting for a storm to pass. When they climbed back into the helicopter, he asked Lucretia Cutter why she wasn’t flying by aeroplane. She replied that it was prudent to avoid airports when one had declared war on the leaders of the world. The most powerful and dangerous people alive were scouring the planet, looking for her.
And now it seemed they were on the last stretch of their journey. As the helicopter sank Barty closed his eyes. Waiting in the darkness was his dark-eyed son, clutching his beloved rhinoceros beetle to his chest. Barty sent a silent prayer of love to his brave boy, and turned his covered head towards Lucretia Cutter.
‘Lucy, I want to thank you.’ He sensed Lucretia Cutter’s head pivot to face him. Her greatest weakness seemed to be the affection she had for him, a hangover from their university days. He’d decided to make what he could out of that, to gain her trust and information. He needed to find a way to bring down her empire and thwart her plans. ‘For allowing me to be a part of your glorious vision for the future.’
‘Ah, Bartholomew,’ she replied, ‘you will soon discover that I am making all your wildest dreams come true, and “thank you” is too small a word.’
CHAPTER THREE
Titanus giganteus
‘What kind of beetle do you think she is?’ Darkus said, his nose deep in the pages of The Beetle Collector’s Handbook.
‘Who?’ Bertolt asked from his watch-post at the window. The police cars had left when Darkus refused to open the door, but they’d said they’d be returning. ‘Lucretia Cutter?’
‘Yeah, if she’s taking the DNA from beetles and adding it to her own, well, you know there are so many different species of beetle, she must have chosen a specific beetle, but which one?’
‘That is a good question!’ Virginia leapt up from the sofa, going to the noticeboard of clues hanging on the wall and examined the picture of Lucretia Cutter hovering above the stage in the Hollywood Theater.
‘If we knew what kind of beetle she was we might be able to work out her weaknesses,’ Darkus said.
Bertolt stepped over to the bookcase that lined the dividing wall between Uncle Max’s flat and what was left of the Emporium next door. The children had replaced all of Uncle Max’s volumes on archaeology with every insect book they could get their hands on, from their homes, school and the library.
‘I think she’s a titan beetle,’ Darkus said, turning his book around so they could see the picture. ‘Her size, her mandibles and those eyes.’ He tapped his finger against the page and shivered, remembering the shiny black spheres glaring down at him. ‘She looks like the Titanus giganteus.’
‘The biggest beetle in the world!’ Virginia gasped, looking from Darkus’s book to the picture on the wall and back again. ‘I’ll bet you’re right.’
‘Should we learn more about the anatomy of beetles?’ Bertolt asked, staring at Darkus’s book.
‘Anatomy?’ Virginia frowned.
‘Yes, how their insides are laid out,’ Bertolt replied. ‘So we can figure out how Lucretia Cutter . . . works.’ He wiggled his fingers over his own torso. ‘It may help us to discover her Achilles heel.’
‘Yes.’ Darkus nodded, flicking through the pages of his book. ‘We may be able to find a way to defeat her.’
‘Like with vampires!’ Virginia said. ‘You have to drive a stake through their heart.’ She pretended to stake Darkus and he laughed.
‘Defeat her?’ Bertolt looked horrified.
‘We may have to.’ Darkus nodded. ‘She’d kill us without thinking.’
‘Do beetles have hearts?’ Virginia wondered.
‘I think so.’ Darkus turned to the index at the back of his book. ‘Although, I know they don’t have lungs, because they breathe through spiracles.’ He found a page reference and flicked to a diagram. ‘It says here that they have a muscle that pushes their insect blood around their bodies.’ He looked at Virginia. ‘That must be their heart, right?’
‘Beetles bleed?’ Virginia asked.
Darkus nodded. ‘It’s called haemolymph and is usually a yellowy-green.’
‘Green!’ Bertolt’s eyebrows lifted as he looked up at Newton.
‘Yeah, or yellowish. It does the same thing our blood does, it has antibodies to protect the beetle from illness and help heal wounds and stuff.’
‘But Lucretia Cutter’s not a vampire,’ Bertolt said. ‘We don’t have to vanquish her, we just have to get the police to arrest her.’
Darkus fixed his friend with a pointed look. ‘But what if we do have to . . . you know?’
‘What?’ Bertolt frowned.
‘Kill her?’ Virginia’s eyes grew wide.
‘Oh, no!’ Bertolt’s hands flew to his cheeks.
‘Lucretia Cutter’s going to starve millions of people.’ Darkus shook his head. ‘They’ll all die if we don’t stop her.’
‘She hasn’t done it yet,’ Virginia said. ‘Maybe she’ll change her mind.’
‘And what if she tries to kill Novak, or Spencer, or Dad?’ Darkus looked down at the picture of the Titanus giganteus. The enormity of what they were trying to do weighed heavily on him. ‘I would have died at the Film Awards if the beetles hadn’t saved me.’ A vision of Lucretia Cutter’s giant jaws, glistening black mouth, her rows of needle-sharp mandibles, filled his head. He shuddered at the memory of her breath – the stench of rotting fruit – and the sensation of falling. ‘She would have killed Baxter too, if Dad hadn’t saved him.’ He looked at his friends. ‘We have to prepare for the worst.’
‘If we kill her, Darkus,’ Virginia said quietly, ‘won’t that make us murderers?’ She looked at Bertolt.
‘I thought your dad taught you to preserve life,’ Bertolt whispered.
‘His life wasn’t in danger then,’ Darkus said. ‘He’s out there now, risking everything to stop Lucretia Cutter.’
‘He isn’t trying to kill her, though,’ Bertolt replied.
‘Darkus,’ Virginia stared at him, her brown eyes wide, ‘I don’t think I can kill Lucretia Cutter. I mean I love adventures, and I know I used to eat meat, before I understood about sustainable farming and everything, but killing on purpose? I’m not sure I can do it. Even if Lucretia Cutter is an evil scumbag.’ She bit her lip. ‘I wouldn’t be able to you know . . . pull the trigger.’
‘I could, if I had to.’ Darkus gritted his teeth. ‘If she was going to hurt Dad.’
‘Don’t take this the wrong way,’ Virginia said, shaking her head, ‘but I don’t think you’re the type of person who can kill either.’
‘He’s depending on me.’ Darkus heard his voice wobble, and he swallowed.
Bertolt put his hand on Darkus’s. ‘We’re going to get your dad back.’
Virginia nodded. ‘And we’ll find a way to stop Lucretia Cutter’s beetle armies, but she needs to be arrested, and confess. That’s the only way to clear your dad’s name.’
Darkus covered his face. ‘Urgh!’ he growled. ‘Do you know what the craziest thing about all of this is?’
‘Um, everything?’ Virginia threw her hands up. ‘I mean, a crazy beetle woman trying to take over the planet? I understand why no one wants to believe it’s happening.’
‘No. The craziest thing is that if Lucretia Cutter can do all of this with her beetles,’ he pointed to the pictures of decimated crops in the newspaper articles pinned to the wall, ‘just imagine the good things those beetles could do if they were led by someone who didn’t want to conquer the world – if they were led by someone who wanted to heal it.’
Darkus heard the sound of keys jangling, a door opening then footsteps on the stairs. Uncle Max, dressed in his uniform of safari shorts, shirt and hat, blundered into the room, followed by the short, stout, bespectacled Motticilla Braithwaite. She was carrying an armful of rolled-up maps.
‘I’m back,’ Uncle Max hailed the children, ‘and I’ve brought Motty an
d Iris. Iris is putting the kettle on.’
‘Make a space on the table,’ Motty commanded, her three chins rippling. ‘I’ve got a map of South America for you to look at.’
‘The police were here,’ Darkus said as he, Virginia and Bertolt knelt down around the table. ‘I didn’t let them in, but they want to talk to us.’
‘Do they now? Well, they’ll just have to wait.’
‘They said they’d come back.’
Uncle Max pointed at the beetles’ paddling pool. ‘Got any good flyers we can ask to be lookouts?’
Darkus nodded, ‘The ladybirds are the fastest.’ He held up his hand, and six red-and-black spotted beetles landed on his palm. He went to the window and cracked it open. ‘Split into two groups, one at each end of the road,’ he whispered. ‘If you spot a police car, the blue and white vehicles with the flashing lights on the top, get back here as quickly as you can.’ When studying the flight patterns of beetles, he’d realized why Lucretia Cutter had used yellow ladybirds as her spies. They reached astonishing heights at great speed and could cover long distances. Thankfully since she’d left the country, they’d hardly spotted any of her deadly yellow Coccinellidae.
Uncle Max unfurled the map of South America as Darkus sat back down. ‘If the police return, we need to be out of here before they knock on the door. Do you all have your bags packed?’ The three children nodded. ‘Good. Right, let’s get down to business.’ He smoothed out the edges of the map and the five of them leant over it. ‘The co-ordinates your father passed to you at the Film Awards, on that scrap of paper,’ Uncle Max placed his finger on the map, ‘are here.’
Darkus’s eyes greedily scanned for information. ‘In Ecuador?’
‘North-west.’ Uncle Max nodded. Motty handed him another map, which he unrolled and placed on top of the first. ‘This is a more detailed map of the region.’ He ran one finger along the top of the map and one down the left-hand side then brought his fingers together. ‘And, if we can trust the co-ordinates the French butler gave your father, this is where Lucretia Cutter has built her Biome.’
Baxter fluttered down from Darkus’s shoulder and marched to the spot Uncle Max was pointing to.
‘Sumaco Napo-Galeras National Park,’ Bertolt read. Newton fizzed and flickered excitedly.
‘That’s where Dad is.’ Darkus stared at the series of wiggling contour lines that suggested the Biome was halfway up a mountain.
‘I’ve checked with all my contacts in the airports between LA and Quito, and it doesn’t look like Lucretia Cutter has travelled by plane, which makes sense if she doesn’t want anyone to know where she’s going,’ Motty said. ‘And no one has seen her since she disappeared into the sky after the Film Awards.’
‘She’s vanished?’ Virginia asked.
Motty nodded. ‘If she did the whole journey in her Sikorsky S-92’ – she paused at the blank looks on the children’s faces – ‘that’s her helicopter – well, a Sikorsky S-92 will only do a thousand kilometres before it needs to refuel. It would have taken her a good few days to get from LA to here.’ She pointed to the map. ‘Four or five days at least, and that’s if they only stopped for as long as it takes to refuel, but they’d not be able to travel through bad weather, and they’d need comfort breaks, a pilot has to sleep and eat.’ She tipped her head to one side, and after a second tipped it back the other way. ‘I’d estimate a journey like that, when you’re trying to avoid being seen, so flying mostly at night, might take ten or eleven days.’
‘But that means,’ Darkus counted off the days on his hands. A bolt of positivity shot through him. ‘Dad’s only just got there.’
Motty nodded.
The door of the living room swung open and Iris Crips, dressed in a flowery blouse and navy pinafore, with her springy grey hair tied back, came in carrying a tray of tea, orange juice and biscuits. ‘Oh! You’ve started without me,’ she chided, setting down the tray.
Virginia launched herself at the biscuits.
‘I do beg your pardon, Iris,’ Uncle Max apologized.
‘Mrs Crips, we know where you son is,’ Darkus said. ‘Spencer’s in Ecuador.’
‘He’s is in the Sumaco Napo-Galeras National Park.’ Bertolt pointed.
‘That’s a long way away.’ Mrs Crips stared at the map, blinking.
‘Not if you’ve got an aeroplane,’ Motty said softly.
‘And we have!’ Virginia bounced up on to her knees, spraying biscuit crumbs everywhere.
‘First, we’ve got to go to ICE to speak to the entomologists.’ Darkus reminded them. ‘Dad said, “Go to the entomologists, they’ll help you.”’ He looked at Uncle Max.
‘Yes, and we will need their help. I have no doubt of that.’ Uncle Max nodded. ‘There are reports of fresh beetle invasions every day, and there’s worse to come, you can be sure of it. Lucretia Cutter is just getting started.’
‘ICE?’ Mrs Crips’s forehead furrowed.
‘The International Congress of Entomology,’ Bertolt explained.
‘It’s the day after tomorrow,’ Darkus said.
‘We fly to Prague in the morning for the congress, and then head straight from there to Ecuador,’ Uncle Max said. ‘I had thought we’d stay here tonight, but if the British Constabulary has decided we should help them with their enquiries, I’d rather not be here when they come knocking.’ He waggled his eyebrows. ‘It would really rather put a spanner in the works if I were to be arrested.’
‘Why would they arrest you?’ Darkus asked, shocked.
‘Well, it wasn’t only Barty who was in LA at the Film Awards, now, was it? I was there,’ he looked at Darkus, then Virginia and Bertolt, ‘and you, and you and you.’
‘You mean they might arrest all of us?’ Bertolt squeaked.
‘It’s possible.’ Uncle Max nodded.
‘Right, get your bags.’ Iris Crips stood up and pulled her car keys out of her pinafore pocket. ‘Tell the beetles to get in their case. You’re all coming to stay at mine.’
Everyone sprang into action. Motty rolled up the maps and Darkus went to the open suitcase beside the paddling pool.
‘Everyone in,’ he said, pointing at the warren of paper cups wedged into oak mulch inside the case. ‘Quick as you can.’
Baxter flittered down, landing on the inflated wall of the pool, twitching his antennae as the Base Camp beetles filed past him.
Uncle Max jammed his pith helmet on his head. ‘Now remember, we mustn’t let anyone know the location of the Biome, not even friends. We can’t even let on that we know where it is. Half the world is looking for Barty and Lucretia Cutter right now. We need to make sure we get to them before anyone else does.’
‘But, why don’t you tell the authorities where she is?’ Mrs Crips asked. ‘Let them deal with her.’
‘Because, Iris, there’s a good chance they’ll rain bombs down on the place, and blow it to kingdom come,’ he replied. ‘We don’t want to risk the lives of Spencer or Bartholomew now, do we?’
‘Or Novak,’ Bertolt added.
‘Oh!’ Iris Crips shook her head vehemently. ‘No, we don’t want that!’
‘There’s no need to look so alarmed, Darkus.’ Uncle Max smiled at him. ‘I’m pretty certain Lucretia Cutter is expecting retaliation. All her eyes will be on the skies and her Biome will be protected.’
‘Do you think so?’ Darkus asked, the knot of fear in his stomach tightening.
‘Yes, I do, and the threat gives us an advantage.’
‘It does?’ Bertolt looked as frightened as Darkus felt.
‘Yes, we’ll be on the ground, looking like a harmless little family taking a holiday.’
‘Weird-looking family,’ Virginia muttered.
‘Exactly.’ Uncle Max nodded. ‘And that’s why no one will suspect we’re on a mission to save the world.’
CHAPTER FOUR
Henrik Lenka
‘We are landing, Madame,’ Gerard shouted over the rhythmic throb of the helicopter blades and the ma
chine-gun rattle of the torrential rain.
‘Good, tell Lenka to come out and meet us,’ Lucretia replied. ‘Craven, Dankish, you will go straight to the security dome and make preparations for any form of attack on the Biome. Send out the beetle borgs.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Craven barked.
‘Lenka? Henrik Lenka? You said he didn’t work with you any longer.’ Barty did his best to sound annoyed. ‘Are you trying to make me jealous?’
‘He doesn’t work with me. Not in the lab. He has a limited imagination and a tawdry lust for money,’ Lucretia replied. ‘I threw him off the research team when I discovered he was talking to a journalist called Emma Lamb. He was going to sell her my secrets.’
‘He hasn’t changed, then,’ Barty said wryly, and Lucretia snorted.
‘I should have killed him, but he begged for his life, and for old times’ sake, I let him keep it. I couldn’t let him leave and tell the world what I’m doing, so he’s the facilities manager at the Biome now.’ There was a note of amusement in her voice. ‘He looks after the sanitation.’ She laughed. ‘I make him clean the toilets.’
Barty felt his stomach lift as the helicopter touched down. The hessian bag was snatched from his head. Blinking and squinting, his eyes adjusted to the sudden light of day.
‘We’re here.’ Lucretia Cutter’s fathomless compound eyes bore down on him. She’d disposed of the sunglasses at the Film Awards. ‘Would you like to come and say hello to your old friend?’
‘I have never called Henrik Lenka a friend,’ Bartholomew replied. He lifted his bound hands. ‘Perhaps you could untie me first. I would rather he didn’t get to enjoy my incarceration.’
Lucretia reached out and severed the ropes with one slash of her claw. ‘There’s no need to tether you here.’ She fixed him with an ink-black smile. ‘If you run away, the jungle will kill you more painfully that I ever could.’
Craven, Dankish and Mawling jumped out of the helicopter into the torrential rain. Gerard got out, opened an umbrella and came round to the door beside Novak, reaching up to help her down.
