Extropia

by Robin Bootle

  Elizabeth’s finger slammed the button for level one. ‘Damn it!’

  Edward’s eyes were wide with fear. A gun! And Elizabeth was unarmed. How was it possible? There had been no way past security.

  Elizabeth stood to one side as the ticker quickly approached level one. The doors parted and she leant her head into the corridor to look both ways. ‘This way,’ she whispered, heading left. At the end of the short corridor was a small door. She pushed it ajar and peered through, then opened it all the way. ‘Stay right behind me.’

  Back down the hallway the elevator pinged.

  ‘Go!’ Oriel screamed in Edward’s ear. ‘It’s him!’

  Edward leapt through the doorway, the world about him in sharp focus as he followed Elizabeth along the balcony that overlooked the Great Hall. Then two steps at a time down the grand staircase that led to the ground floor.

  ‘He’s back in the elevator,’ said Oriel. ‘You need to be fast. But you can make it. The security team is moving to intercept.’

  Elizabeth shoved Edward in front of her. ‘Keep your head down and keep moving!’

  He glanced at the elevator as they flew through the crowd of guests, many of them now aware that something was going on. Two security guards were poised outside the lift with their pistols already raised.

  Edward and Elizabeth were close to the golden doors now. One of Vanderboom’s security guards in a black jacket stood by, urging them on. Beyond the doors, Edward could just make out the red line on the esplanade that marked his escape.

  Elizabeth cried, ‘Look out!’

  He spun round just in time to see Hound barge a bystander to the floor and raise his gun into the air. Behind him, the two guards lay motionless. Hound’s eyes locked on Edward’s, as though nothing else in the world mattered.

  Hound’s gun aimed high. Edward’s eyes squeezed tight. The sound of gunshots filled the air.

  His hands reached for his chest. For his stomach. But the pain never came. Only the screams of people all around as they dropped to the floor.

  Now there was no one between them. Hound had a clear shot. His arm dropped to aim square at Edward.

  ‘No!’ screamed Elizabeth.

  Edward felt her arms around his waist and a shoulder in his back just as the crack of gunpowder escaped Hound’s gun. He hit the marble floor, his elbows crying out with pain as more screams reverberated through the hall. He rolled over as Elizabeth grabbed his forearm and pulled him back to his feet.

  ‘Up, quickly!’ she screamed.

  ‘He’s gone!’ yelled Oriel. ‘Just get out of there!’

  Together they dashed for the revolving doors. Between them and the exit lay the security guard in the black jacket, slumped against the wall.

  6

  The Jump

  The SenseGel was all but gone by the time he opened his eyes back in his port. As it drained away, every drop seemed to be latched together, leaving his t-shirt and jeans as dry as when he’d first entered. He stumbled out, his shaking legs collapsing to the hard tiled floor.

  Elizabeth reached down to help him up and wrapped her arms around his trembling body. His arms remained by his sides. Who was she – the woman who had just saved his life, or a pawn in Oriel’s game?

  ‘What the hell happened in there?’ she shouted.

  ‘I … I cannot say,’ replied Oriel, his usual confidence wavering. ‘Somehow he knew we were coming. Protocols are being reset as we speak.’

  Together they headed for the central platform in Control. On both the touch screen and the TeleWall at the far end were two photos of Hound. The first was the one Vanderboom had shown him. The second was a mugshot with an employee ID number in the bottom right-hand corner.

  Edward stood with his arms wrapped about himself, feeling so alone. His family were right there but unable even to see him. He was surrounded by people he didn’t trust. And now someone had tried to kill him. ‘Why is Hound doing this?’ he asked, his voice shaking.

  ‘Because he is afraid,’ said Oriel, ‘afraid that through you we will enter Extropia and in doing so, unleash some greater threat upon the world.’

  ‘Something happened to him while he was trying to find a way in,’ explained Elizabeth. ‘We thought he was about to succeed, when he started talking about a threat from within, about how there was some kind of character, inside Extropia, who had caused the accident, and that we shouldn’t trifle with what we didn’t understand.’

  ‘But why would he want to kill me? It doesn’t make sense!’

  ‘Because Hound is insane!’ snapped Oriel. ‘What Hound believes, as you say yourself, is nonsense! Cartoon characters simply aren’t capable of causing billions of pounds worth of damage! Whatever happened today is a direct result of your father’s creation – at worst a deliberately planted virus, at best a side effect of your father trying to contact you. In either case, your father has some answering to do!’

  ‘I’ve told you already, my father hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s…’ Innocent was the word that sprang to Edward’s mind, but he faltered as he thought of James’s weak body and Vanderboom’s words, Maybe you should ask your father. The simple truth was that Dad had created a technology that could harm its users. The idea in itself was barbaric; who knew what else his father had done?

  His breath felt tight in his chest as dizziness swirled through his body. ‘I think I need to lie down,’ he murmured.

  But neither Elizabeth nor Oriel were paying him any attention. Their eyes were fixed on the ceiling.

  The lights in the room were flickering on and off.

  ‘Oh no!’ The whisper drifted unknowingly from his lips. It was all too familiar. It had happened at school that morning. And it had happened a year ago to the day, during the storm.

  ‘What the hell is that?’ Elizabeth yelled as interference began shrieking at an ear-piercing level from every DeskTop and every screen. And then there was the moan, deep and unending, making his body shiver. All the screens snapped to darkness. Edward’s heart thumped hard inside his chest.

  When the screens flicked back on they were filled with the same image. He recognised it at once. A muddy, hay-strewn floor. The iron bars were clearer now, enlarged on the main displays. Beyond them, a grate covered a hole in the floor, and opposite hung a flaming torch, its light scarcely illuminating the wooden plank walls.

  ‘If anyone… can hear me…’ It was James, his words weak, staggered, and smothered by the sound of interference. ‘I need… help… Help me…’

  The voice went silent again, leaving only the interference and the moan. James’s vision dropped to reveal his hand as it covered the side of his belly. He peeled it back, moist with blood.

  ‘Oh my God, James!’ Edward didn’t even know if he’d spoken out loud or just thought it. But the next words he screamed: ‘What’s the password?’

  ‘I don’t know… how much longer I’ll last.’

  ‘James!’ Edward cried again.

  The screen went dead. The moaning and the interference cut to silence. And no one dared to say anything.

  Edward stared at the screen, wishing James would reappear so he could again hear his brother’s voice. So James could reveal the password. Tell him what to do or how to help. The tightness in his chest sharpened like a knife, twisting and grinding. To have found James alive, only to discover him on the brink of death. He doubled over and vomited on the floor.

  The two agents at their desks returned to their keyboards and pretended not to notice, but through Elizabeth and Oriel’s silence Edward could feel their stares.

  ‘Here.’ Elizabeth handed him a tissue. ‘Are you okay? Do you need to be alone?’

  He pushed her hand away. He needed time to think. All that mattered now was the password. The inscription had to be a clue, Vanderboom had seemed certain. In lo
ving memory. But it wasn’t to do with Mum – they’d tried all possible nicknames.

  What could it be?

  What other memory? If it wasn’t to do with Mum, then who else?

  Maybe it wasn’t a person. Elizabeth had said they’d tried every name related to Dad they could think of, and every combination.

  Was that where they were going wrong? Not who, but what? Or where?

  He thought back to the night of the accident. It was one of the first times that, in his agitation, he’d been present while Dad and James had discussed Extropia.

  And then, as if someone had plunged a hand into his memories, yanked it out and slapped it at the forefront of his mind, it came to him.

  Your mother and Windermere mean more to me than you know. It had stuck with him that night because it had seemed an insincere lie. But could Dad have inadvertently left him a clue?

  He faced Elizabeth, mouth open and ready to tell her his best guess. Instead he just stared at her and quickly sealed his lips.

  ‘Edward, what is it?’ she asked.

  ‘I…’ He stopped. He couldn’t tell them. If there was one thing he’d learnt in the past year it was that he couldn’t count on anyone. Vanderboom was right; there was no way Oriel would risk his and Elizabeth’s lives for two men they didn’t know. If he handed over the password, they’d be exposed and forced to play out their lies. They’d no doubt make up some excuse, tell him he had played his part and move him to another facility where he couldn’t see what they were doing. What they weren’t doing. ‘I need to be alone with them.’ It just came out. But it was perfect.

  ‘Edward, you know I can’t let you do that.’ Oriel was looking at him as if he were crazy.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m warning you – don’t play me for a fool.’

  Edward pretended to look confused. ‘I don’t understand. You let me in there earlier. Why not now? Unless…You were listening in, weren’t you?’

  ‘Of course we were! That’s our job!’

  ‘You really think I’d enter Extropia on my own? Get myself locked up just like my brother? What good would that do? Please,’ he begged, calming his voice, ‘I just want to help – my life, my memories are in that room. I can get you the password. Then you and Elizabeth can enter and find my family, just like you planned.’

  ‘Oriel, come on…’ Elizabeth pleaded. ‘There’s no way he’d go in alone. What chance would he stand of getting out again?’

  She was right. Only a fool of a teenager would enter Extropia knowing there was almost no chance of ever coming back. But she hadn’t counted on the fact that he didn’t feel he had a choice. How could he carry on living out here, knowing he’d walked away from his only chance to help his family?

  ‘I just need time to think, I promise.’

  ‘All right, but God help you if you do anything stupid.’ Oriel began walking towards the small metal door.

  At last the insanity of what Edward was thinking began to sink in. What if he couldn’t find the stone? What if the same enemy that found James were to find him? He could be imprisoned within minutes of arriving in Extropia. Or worse.

  He walked with his head down straight to James’s port, the simple task of placing one foot in front of the other feeling like the hardest thing in the world. He thought about turning back. It wasn’t too late. Surely there had to be another way.

  But then he looked up, laid eyes on James, and every muscle in his body tensed up in anguish. There wasn’t time for anything else. A gash had appeared on the right hand side of James’s torso. He’d seen the wound on the screens, but it hadn’t registered that he would see it here. The blue gel was clouding with James’s red blood. I’m coming, James, he thought. Please, just hold on!

  He could tell Oriel was still standing by the door, watching, waiting for him to make his move. He bowed his head for a few seconds, pretending to be deep in thought and trying to wipe the state of James’s body from his mind. He shifted his eyes to the left where the first spare port lay open and ready. He would have to be quick. Then the SenseGel would do the rest. He only needed it to be deep enough to submerge his head. Three feet, maybe four.

  He glanced back over his shoulder. Oriel was still watching him. ‘Alone, please,’ he asked, his voice straining to remain calm.

  He listened as Oriel took the few steps back to the exit. Any second now, he thought, his heart thumping so hard the world pulsated with its rhythm.

  The door buzzed open behind him. The silence told him Oriel was watching him for one last second. He heard him step outside. The door closed slowly with a buzz. The latch clicked shut.

  With a single step Edward leapt into the spare port, slamming the green button in the same movement. As the glass door whished past his face there was a muffled clang against the metal door. They would be there in seconds.

  The SenseGel rushed in, already rising up his shins. All he needed was another two or three feet.

  The door buzzed open. Oriel’s fingers were wrapped around its thick metal as he tried to force the door open faster, but it just kept on moving at the same controlled pace. Two feet deep now.

  At last rushing through the door and heading straight for Edward’s port, Oriel screamed, ‘Edward! Don’t you dare!’

  Edward bent his knees and wrapped his arms around his shins. The SenseGel enveloped his head even as Oriel’s fingers fumbled to open the port. He closed his eyes and opened his lungs.

  In that instant, everything went dark. Not even the red of eyelid-filtered light. And total silence.

  Extropia! he screamed inside.

  No sooner had he thought it than a voice sounded in his head.

  ‘Please think the password.’

  Windermere!

  Nothing happened. A second’s pause. Then the voice came again. ‘Password invalid. You have two attempts remaining.’

  How stupid, to think it was that simple. Dad would never have trusted such a straightforward password.

  But if Windermere wasn’t the password then what else could it be? Maybe Dad had added some numbers. A date perhaps? The date they were due to go there? And suddenly it seemed an obvious certainty. The date they were due to go to Windermere was Mum’s birthday.

  Windermere, seventeenth April.

  A pause again, before the voice invaded his mind with its emotionless rejection. ‘Password invalid. You have one attempt remaining.’

  He cursed himself for rushing. He hadn’t thought it through. Maybe the date was right but what was to say it should come at the end? Why not at the beginning, or interlaced throughout? It was hopeless. Even if he was on the right track, there were hundreds of possible variations.

  He only had one more try. The date they were due in Windermere was Mum’s birthday. It had to be a combination of the two. Maybe he had it right already, he just needed to call out the numbers?

  Windermere, one seven, zero four.

  No, wait, was he supposed to add in the year? If so, what year, the year of her birth or the year of their planned visit?

  The silence was agonising as he waited for the voice to announce his rejection and throw him mercilessly back to reality and Oriel’s bruising hands.

  But he never heard the voice.

  Everything started spinning, as if the world around him was being sucked into a black hole. His mind felt like it was going to implode. The jump to VirtuaWorld hadn’t been like this. That had been a smooth ride from the darkness into the gardens of Vanderboom’s palace. This was taking too long. And it hurt, like it was crushing his mind. Something had to be wrong.

  Abort, he screamed, Abort! But the voice wasn’t listening.

  He tried to lift his arms to signal for help. But his arms were no longer there. No legs, no torso. And for a time, it felt like he might be stuck like that for
ever, a vacuum of panic-stricken awareness.

  At last, the resistance was forced from his mind, and every thought descended submissively to silence.

  Only fear remained.

  7

  Home Leigh Hut

  Other than darkness there was only silence. Then quiet fizzing, like electricity running through high-voltage circuitry, getting louder and louder. Soon it filled his mind, an inescapable whirring that overwhelmed any thought.

  The noise cracked into an explosion of light, like a firework going off inside his head. He forced open his eyelids. Everything was a spinning brown blur. His ears filled with a muffled rumble, growing rapid and full. The rumble sharpened into the violent bass of crashing thunder. Through the thunder came the crystal clear hammering of rain. At last the world was drifting into alignment with his body.

  He scanned the room. Everything was made of wood. Supporting columns ran from the corners of the floor to the thatched ceiling. The surfaces were largely bare except for a thick layer of undisturbed dust. A short ladder rose to a mezzanine level at one end of the room. Behind him, a long table surrounded by eight rickety wooden chairs lay in front of a grand fireplace. To his right was a door barred with six-inch oak. Next to it, the only window.

  He jumped as something rustled against the outside of the hut. His eyes shot to the window, expecting to see the whites of a predator’s eyes ready to pounce. The tip of a branch tapped against the glass, and he breathed again.

  But then came something else, buried under the sound of the rain. The distant sound of a horn.

  He crept to the window, his head just high enough to peek out. The thick branches of a horse chestnut blocked most of his view. Above, the darkening sky was blanketed in heavy cloud, unleashing torrents onto the field below. For all he knew, the same men who had ambushed James were waiting just outside. If anyone was there, they could be upon him in seconds.