Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London (46 page)

He made his way along past pieces of office equipment, referring to the plan a couple of times to check the names and numbers on doors to be sure he was going the right way. Coming to an alcove he stopped and tried one last attempt to revive Clara, when a whirring noise distracted him. They were right next to a lift shaft and someone was heading for their floor. Looking round desperately for cover Johnny wheeled the trolley behind a large photocopier in the corridor and crouched down out of sight. There was an electronic chime and the doors swished open.

A woman said “After you, Carrington,” and out stepped the doctor followed by Bobbi, both of them walking up the corridor toward Johnny. He was done for. Dr. Carrington reached the copier first, his eyes met Johnny's and he stopped stock-still in his tracks.

Bobbi crashed into the back of him. “What the?” said the startled woman.

“So sorry, Colonel Hartman … so sorry, yes,” said Dr.
Carrington, who turned to face the American, standing to block her view of Johnny. “I do believe I left some equipment in your office. Would you object if we went to get it now? Equipment …”

“Very well,” said Bobbi, “but be quick about it.” She turned and started walking the other way down the corridor with the doctor. “I want to be in position well before they wake up,” she said as they returned to the lift and the doors closed behind them.

Johnny ran down the corridor pushing Clara's trolley in front of him until they were nearly at the end. He slowed and started checking the signs on doors, stopping at one on the left marked “theater” where, all being well, he should find Chancellor Gronack.

Again Johnny put his hand on the keypad and this time tutted—the combination was the same as before. He turned the handle and pushed the heavy door very slightly ajar. A sliver of light fell onto the figure of the phasmeer, standing in the middle of the room. Gronack turned to see where the light was coming from and squeaked, “Johnny—in here. Help me.”

“Hang on,” said Johnny. He used Clara's trolley to hold the door open as he pushed her through and followed into the room. The door closed behind him and the lights came on, all of them focused on an operating table surrounded by a mixture of medical equipment and video cameras. In front of the table, strewn across the floor, were the dead bodies of several people, some in white coats and others in uniforms. So that was why they'd not met any soldiers in the corridor. “How did you …” asked Johnny, open-mouthed. The Chancellor didn't answer. Instead a voice from behind said, “It didn't. We dropped by to help.” He whirled around to see Stevens smiling, standing beside two other suited krun, each with their weapons pointed at Johnny. Instinctively he raised his hands. Stevens stepped forward and inspected Clara's unconscious body. Satisfied she wasn't about to wake up, he walked over to where Gronack was
standing, robes flashing yellow and blue, in front of a giant window. The phasmeer was shaking with laughter.

Stevens nodded to the spindly alien and turned to face Johnny. “Well, well, well,” he said. “Caught defenseless—you know I really would like to kill you after all the trouble you've caused. I still may, but the Andromedans have offered a very high price for you. I'm sure we'll double it if we throw in the girl.”

“Quite inexplicable really,” squeaked Gronack. “They're worthless Terrans and killing them would be a pleasure, but orders are orders.”

“Orders? Whose orders?” Johnny asked.

“The Andromedans of course,” said Gronack. “You will find it pays to be on the winning side.” Gronack's robes flushed purple with pride. “As soon as I discovered it I gave them Khari's spaceship plantation. When I present them with you two meddling upstarts …”

“How could you? I came here to save you,” said Johnny.

“So I see. I always knew your misplaced hero complex would get you into trouble. Life on your ship was a risk I'm no longer prepared to take.”

“But Bram trusted you,” said Johnny, who could feel his face going red. “How could you betray him? He even sent a ship for you—just yesterday. You could've been going back to Melania.”

“You think everything is so black and white, you silly little boy,” squeaked Gronack. Its robes started pulsing all the colors of the rainbow. “You see there's more to this galaxy than that. I am a phasmeer, a born diplomat—we understand every shade, every nuance.”

“Enough … Chancellor,” said Stevens. He walked toward Johnny and Clara, when an alarm went off in the corridor outside. Bangs and shouting were coming closer too. Perhaps Bobbi had finally reached the holding area, found them missing and set it off.

“Whatever now?” asked Gronack.

“I'll deal with it,” said Stevens, who strode purposefully toward the door. A moment later there was an almighty crash and the krun's body flew back past Johnny, straight into the Chancellor, knocking it to the floor. Into the room came what looked like a London taxi that placed itself between Johnny and Clara and the other krun, shielding them from the energy blasts as the aliens opened fire. The doors flew open.

“Brilliant, Alf,” shouted Johnny as he lifted Clara off the stretcher and flung her onto the back seat of the Bakerloo. Only it wasn't Alf. It was his father, whose green eyes blazed back at him, with Bentley next to him coiled to spring from the front seat if needed. “Dad?” said Johnny, disbelieving.

“Get in, son,” shouted Michael Mackintosh as the green ray from a krun weapon flew just over Johnny's left shoulder.

He dived onto the back seat next to Clara. Through the open door he heard Gronack scream, “Stop them,” and the craft jerked forward. They passed the prone Chancellor, smashed the operating table out of the way and continued on, shattering the glass of the window on the far side of the room and flying out into the square. The shuttle dropped alarmingly, almost decapitating a statue of a man in uniform with his hands on his hips, before soaring upward again and over the trees.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” said Johnny's dad, blinking hard over and over again. “Not quite got the hang of these controls.”

“You did brilliantly, Dad,” said Johnny. “You saved us.”

“That's my job.”

“But where's Alf—my friend with the bowler hat?”

“Your android? He'd stopped working. He was on the sickbay floor.”

How stupid—Johnny realized he hadn't warned Alf about the fold. He must still have been working on Louise when it happened.

“I left the girl there to see what she could do,” continued Johnny's dad. “The ship said you needed help. We should get back.”

“No, Dad—we've got to go and get Mum—straightaway.”

“Mary? You know where she is?”

“I think so,” said Johnny, who climbed into the front seat beside Bentley and reached out with his thoughts to the Bakerloo, taking over the controls. Instantly the ride became smoother. “Watch out for this—it's a bit freaky till you get used to it,” and he turned on the shields. They flew disembodied over Big Ben with an invisible Bentley barking very loudly, picked up speed and within a couple of minutes they'd left the sprawl of south London behind and were setting down beside Wittonbury station. It was beginning to get light. The sedative was wearing off and Clara seemed slightly more awake, at least enough to wrap her arms around her father's neck as he picked her up out of the shuttle and carried her. Johnny and Bentley led the way, retracing the short route between the station to St. Catharine's Hospital for the Criminally Insane. Though as Johnny drew nearer, he couldn't escape the feeling of disappointment in the pit of his stomach. He kept on walking but he could see it was pointless. They crossed the footbridge that had always been just before the main gate, only Sol's projections in the strategy room had been correct—instead of the hospital there were only fields. Johnny slumped down onto the top of the grassy bank next to the little brook.

Clara opened her eyes and smiled. “Dad?” she said, as though she daren't really believe it.

“Oh, so my little princess is awake is she?” said her father. “I hope that means I can put you down now.”

“OK, I guess,” said Clara.

Michael Mackintosh kissed her tenderly on the forehead and lowered her gently to the ground.

Clara stared at the brook and then toward Johnny, smiling. “Remind you of anything?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“It's like the waterfall on Melania. Can't you see it's running uphill?”

When Johnny looked properly, he saw his sister was absolutely right. All the times he'd come here he'd never noticed.

“There's an opening here. In fact, it's right here,” she said, pointing, and as Johnny watched, the end of Clara's arm vanished into nothingness. “Well, come on.”

Johnny got to his feet and followed Clara through the invisible gateway with Bentley and his dad, re-emerging into the familiar entrance of St. Catharine's. Yet though the outline of the building was the same, what surrounded it was like nothing Johnny had ever seen. There was no Sussex countryside in the distance—there was nothing in the distance at all. There wasn't even any sky. In its place swirled a pink, purple and black vortex of nothingness. Bolts of lightning flashed continuously in the background, with peels of thunder to accompany them. Having crossed through the fold, Michael Mackintosh passed out. Johnny and Clara revived him and helped him back to his feet, each supporting him underneath one arm. He looked around for a moment, muttering, “This is an evil place,” before they all hurried across the grounds, past the giant incinerator tower and toward the main entrance to the building. As they approached, Johnny shouted above the thunder. “Bentley—find Mum.” They followed as the Old English sheepdog scampered around the corner of the building and came to a stop outside a window halfway along, wagging his tail enthusiastically.

Inside, lit up by the lightning, was Johnny's mum, exactly as she always looked, hooked up to a plethora of machines. Together Johnny and his dad were able to pry the window open, lift Clara and Bentley through and then climb inside.

Instinctively, Johnny and Clara hung back as their father walked across the room to his wife's bedside. “What have they done to you, Mary?” he said. He bent over her face, stroked her limp blond hair, kissed her tenderly on the lips and began shaking with tears. He turned to Johnny and Clara and beckoned them forward, so they each took hold of one of their mother's hands while he stroked her forehead and hair. Bentley came forward too, standing with his front paws on the end of the bed, his head at an angle as he whimpered quietly.

“Dad—they'll be here any minute,” said Johnny. “We need to get Mum back to the Spirit of London. Sol can make her better … I'm sure.”

Michael Mackintosh turned toward Johnny, the tears still running down his cheeks and shook his head. “Can't you feel it, son? Your mother's not meant to be here any more. She's in limbo—they're just using her, using her shell as a giant battery to power this place. And while they do that there's a part of her still trapped … imprisoned in this body.”

“Dad, you don't know what you're saying. We're taking her back to the ship.” Johnny spoke slowly, worried that his dad had stopped thinking straight again.

“I have to release her. I'm turning these machines off.”

“No you can't,” said Johnny. “We need her back.”

“I wish there was another way,” said Michael Mackintosh.

“Stop!” shouted Johnny as his father walked over to the series of plugs on the wall. “What about Clara? She needs a mum. She's never even met her.”

“It's OK, Johnny,” said Clara, staring across at her brother, eyes bulging with tears. “Dad's right. And I have met her—don't you remember? This is what she asked us to do.”

Clara was clearly going mad too. Maybe their dad's condition was contagious. “I won't let you,” shouted Johnny, as the door burst open and into the room came half a dozen krun, headed
again by Stevens whose weapon was pointed firmly at Johnny's dad. Calmly the alien said, “I would listen to your son if I were you, Mr. Mackintosh. Move away from those switches.”

Unperturbed, Michael Mackintosh started pulling all the plugs from out of their sockets on the wall.

“You cannot seriously believe that turning off a few plugs has any real physical effect in this place,” Stevens continued. Johnny could see that only a few of the pieces of equipment were still showing anything on their displays.

“The machines aren't important,” replied Johnny's dad. “It's the act of turning them off that matters. It means my wife can move on with my blessing. Ask yourself why it's getting dark outside. Why's everything going quiet?”

It was true—the thunder and lightning had slowed almost to a stop. Stevens looked quickly to the window and back. “I ordered you to stop,” he said, but now there was a note of panic in his voice.

With the noise from outside almost gone, everyone could hear when the heartbeat monitor at the bedside started to emit a single continuous beep—for a few seconds it was the only sound in the room. Johnny's dad unplugged the very last piece of equipment and said, “Go ahead—shoot. You can't hurt me any more.”

“Maybe not,” said Stevens, “but I can hurt them.” He turned the weapon toward Clara, squeezed the trigger and fired.

“No!” shouted Michael Mackintosh, who flung himself forward into the path of the green beam. For a moment his body was suspended, brilliantly illuminated in mid-air, but then it slumped down lifeless on top of his wife. Bentley leapt up and fastened his jaws onto Stevens's throat. Everyone in the room seemed transfixed as krun and dog, both covered in blood, rolled across the floor. Stevens pushed Bentley off him and hissed the command, “Kill them” to the other krun, before
wrapping his hands around the sheepdog's neck. The spell broken, the men in suits pointed their weapons at the two children. Johnny couldn't help shutting his eyes. He heard a body fall to the ground—they must have shot Clara first. Then there was another, and then several more.