by Ruth Morgan
A grey shape swooped past my head. I decided to carry on.
‘All that might save him is an antidote and you know the only way we could possibly make one. If we know the dragomansk genetic code. Jonah, can you help me? My friend is dying.’
Bird-like flapping circled over my head.
‘Oh, thank you,’ I cried. ‘Jonah, thank you for coming back. I want to save him, but I know what this will mean. I will make you this one promise: if you give me the code, I will do everything in my power to safeguard the Earth. I have a plan and I think it might work.’
‘Tired.’ The word echoed around the room, from every corner at once. ‘Tired … tired … tired…’
‘I know,’ I said.
‘Tired of death.’ The voice was right in front of me. ‘Tired of seeing others die.’
‘Yes, yes.’
‘My time is slipping away, I can feel it.’
‘Please tell me,’ I said. ‘You know we feel the same about Earth. You know I don’t want to harm Earth. And there are others just like me in my world, but they don’t know what’s going on.’
‘I … I wish…’
‘I give you my word I will do all I can to make Earth safe, just tell me please.’ I was rambling now and it was important to shut up and listen.
‘We stepped out together, we were all struck down.’ His voice seemed to be weakening.
‘Please stay with me,’ I whispered. ‘Please tell me, Jonah. What is the secret of the dragomansk’s code?’
‘I was holding Malaky’s hand. He went down before I did… I saw the flesh on his chest burst apart and his screams, his terrible screams… I knew I was next.’
‘This is what happened to my friend, Halley. He was struck from behind in his head but – the same.’
There was a pause and for one horrible moment, I thought he’d gone.
‘SAVE HIM!’ cried Jonah.
‘Yes?’
‘Malaky’s drawings, the code is on the wing…’
‘Upstairs?’
‘The code … on the wing…’ His voice was fading fast.
‘Jonah, thank you!’
‘The code…’
‘Jonah?’
‘On the wing.’
And he’d gone.
On the floor amidst a pile of similar stones, in the dark, a small fossil glowed for the first time. A small fossil ammonite. It glowed once then began to fade, as though some phosphorescent light deep within it were dying. I picked it up before the light finally went out. I held it to my lips.
I braved the awful gallery with a new sense of purpose. With my tilelight, I searched all the walls twice over, clambering up and down Halley’s book staircases with my heart pounding, but I couldn’t see it because I was panicking so much. It had to be there, it just had to.
Starting again by the door, I slowed right down and disciplined myself to make a steady and thorough search. This was only the first room of these pictures, but I had to start somewhere and if I made a thorough search and still couldn’t find the code, I would go to the next room and the next. I wouldn’t stop until I had found it.
The dragomansk were pictured with their wings a blur, as we were used to seeing them in real life. They bore down upon the hysterical men, women and children, all drawn in heavy, angry scratches. I was about a third of the way across the second wall when I spotted it, a dragomansk rising over a hill in the distance, its wings actually drawn in rather than just indicated as movement. I had to make a hurried new staircase of books to get a better look. The higher I climbed, the surer I became that this dragomansk was different from the others, more precisely drawn, and when I managed to get myself into a position where I could put my eye right up close to one of the wings, balancing precariously with one hand flat on the wall, I could see a pattern inscribed on it. A tiny, intricate mass of unfamiliar symbols written in rows.
I had found it! I had found it!
I photographed the wing with my tile, very carefully and several times over, then sent the images to Carter, to Calamus, to Lana, to Pico, to everyone with the message:
The dragomansk code. It was at the museum all along.
sent from Bree Aurora.
On my return to Base, I was summoned to the Captain’s quarters on the top floor of the building. I had never been there before. The large room was circular with windows all around. I was instructed to sit in the chair in the middle opposite the Captain’s long, empty desk. Ahead of me was the same view you could see from the lounge on the floor below, with the sea in the distance. The weather was calm and still, no hint of rain, just mist on the distant brown hills to the north. I was left all on my own for maybe an hour before the door opened and in came Captain Calamus and Doc Carter. They looked like strangers, less certain of themselves than usual. The Captain sat behind the desk and Doc Carter sat by her side.
‘How’s Halley?’ I faltered. ‘Did you make the antidote?’
Doc Carter cleared his throat. ‘Yes, and we’ve given it to him,’ he said.
‘It’s early days but … he appears to be responding well,’ added the Captain.
‘Thank you,’ I said.
Captain Calamus leaned forward and folded her hands on the desk, knitting her fingers together. I could see her reflection in its polished surface, right down to the furrowed brow.
‘How did you do it, Bree?’ she said. ‘The best minds have been working on this for years, trying to discover the code.’ She gave Carter a little nod of acknowledgement as she said this and he folded his arms, staring at me intently.
‘You just found it, drawn on the gallery wall?’ she went on. ‘No one has taken notice of those old drawings for years. And the secret was there in plain view the whole time? How did you find that out?’
‘The celephet,’ Carter jumped in. ‘The celephet, it must have been. Somehow the information has bridged its way into the girl’s unconscious. The celephet told her where to find the code and it’s just remained buried in her mind until today. There’s no other explanation.’ He threw up his hands.
‘The celephet had nothing to do with it,’ I said.
‘Then how do you explain it?’ The Captain’s tones were measured.
From the corner of my eye, I could see a metamansk, riding the air currents in the west where the sun was almost setting, preparing to disperse its individuals across the skyline. The creatures’ days were numbered. Soon, the dragomansk stranglehold upon Earth would be at an end. And then…
‘Why was I chosen for this mission?’ I asked.
‘What does that have to do with it?’ Carter snapped.
‘Actually, you don’t have to tell me, I already know. And you do too, Captain. And Core Panel at school. You had a problem, didn’t you? Pioneer School is filled with elite students. How were you going to find someone of a low enough intelligence to be able to wear the celephet and not compromise it?’
They both looked dumbstruck.
‘I don’t see what this has got to do with…’ Captain Calamus began.
‘It has everything to do with it.’ My voice was stronger now, bolstered up by all the frustration, all the pain I had been feeling for weeks. ‘You were wrong. My intelligence is fine, it is just of a different type. My brain is different from your analytical brains. I have a talent, but it’s an unusual one that the school can’t measure so they never gave me much credit for it. My empathy and my imagination has led us to the code.’
‘This is nonsense.’ Carter shut his eyes and shook his head emphatically. ‘It was the celephet.’
‘It was not the damn celephet,’ I said quietly, impressed by my calm. Carter glared at me. ‘You’ve analysed the data, there was nothing there of any use, was there?’
The Captain lifted her hand, imploring Carter to allow me to carry on.
‘Your invention did nothing,’ I said, ‘but torture the consciousness that was stored at the Museum, who had a name by the way. His name was Jonah, I didn’t make it up. I’ve been talking t
o him for weeks, stealing back to the Museum each night. We’ve been writing poems together. He’s gone now, I’m glad to say, gone for good. He’ll not be subjected to any more torture, Doctor Carter. That screaming face, telling us all to go away – that was Jonah, responding to your celephet. Oh, and by the way…’ I removed the small ammonite from my pocket. ‘This was it. The storage device. You might be interested.’
The two of them stared incredulously at the insignificant piece of limestone. After letting them look for a moment, I replaced it in my pocket.
‘And this is how—?’ said the Captain.
‘How I learned the secret, yes. I returned to the Museum this afternoon because I was desperate to help Halley, but I knew that the celephet was useless. I begged Jonah to help me. I didn’t know if he would or not. We’re the old enemy, aren’t we, us Martians? That’s right, Captain, I know all about the War for Earth and he knows I know.’ I nodded at Carter. The Captain turned to him, but his eyes stayed fixed on me as though he wanted to kill me. ‘I did it myself, do you understand that now?’ I said.
‘The evidence seems … quite compelling,’ said the Captain.
Carter jumped to his feet, his face a mixture of rage and frustration. I felt triumphant. I’m almost ashamed to say so, with Halley still fighting for his life downstairs, but I did. I met his gaze, steadily and surely.
He strode from the room and I was left with the Captain.
‘It seems you are owed some sort of apology,’ she said. ‘And the Martian race owes you a debt of thanks. You have hastened the next stage in our Great Quest and Purpose, Bree Aurora, and your name will live on.’
This was it, the moment I’d most feared.
‘Our Great Quest and Purpose,’ I said, ‘has meant different things at different times, hasn’t it, Captain?’
‘I don’t follow you.’
‘Well, at one time, and not that long ago, the recolonisation of Earth was an integral part of our Great Quest and Purpose. I know that’s true.’
She smiled and shook her head, feigning confusion.
‘I have something else to tell you,’ I said. ‘When I left the Museum this afternoon, once I’d sent you the message about the code, I didn’t come straight back to Base. I took a detour, out towards the landing craft where I knew I’d have the time and privacy to make a broadcast.’
The Captain’s smile faded.
‘I sent my broadcast to everyone I know on Mars, everyone at Pioneer School, to all my friends and their families as well as my own. I sent it to a hundred and twenty-nine people altogether and I asked them to share it as quickly as possible. That was almost two hours ago, plenty of time for it to be spreading from our Dome to others across Mars right now. I sent our poems, Jonah’s and mine, which are about how precious life is here and how vital it is that we preserve it. How we have a countless amount still to learn here that will help us achieve a successful future, even if it means we’ll take longer to get there.’
‘You told them—?’
‘I told them about the danger Earth is in. I told them everything I know.’
The Captain scrolled on her tile and her eyes widened. With all that had been happening at Base over the past few hours, she clearly hadn’t had time to check on incoming messages from Mars.
‘Bree,’ she whispered. ‘Bree, what have you done?’
‘I may have reset our Great Quest and Purpose, Captain Calamus. I sincerely hope so.’
Postscript: One of the poems that I sent with my message back to Mars.
Frog
Solemn frog,
Most unsmiling creature,
You enter the pool like a large drop of rain
And swim with liquid grace, absurd geometry
And glassy brightness,
Around the dry rock where I sit on this hot afternoon,
Causing minimal surface disturbance,
Casting diminutive waves.
Almighty frog,
King of the mirror canals,
Climbing out coated in liquefied light
You slip between leaves, out of sight.
Ruth Morgan grew up in Llandovery and studied English at Cardiff University. She has written extensively for children of all ages, including scripts for animation and radio. Ruth lives in Penarth with her partner, illustrator Chris Glynn and their son, Gethin. As well as writing, Ruth teaches part-time and is a visiting storyteller at Cardiff Castle. Her many interests include amateur astronomy.
First published in 2016
by Firefly Press
25 Gabalfa Road, Llandaff North, Cardiff, CF14 2JJ
www.fireflypress.co.uk
Text © Ruth Morgan 2016
The author asserts her moral right to be identified as author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act, 1988.
All rights reserved.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form, binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781910080399
This book has been published with the support of the Welsh Books Council.
