The Recollection (13 page)

Ed killed the engine. No-one spoke. The silence seemed to press in on their eardrums. Ed looked down at the hand he had resting shakily on the gear lever.

“You can let go now,” he said.

Alice turned to him, dragging her eyes from the watery precipice beneath her window.

“What?”

“My arm.”

“Oh shit, sorry.” She snatched her hand away. There were white marks where her fingers had been. On the back seat, Kristin cursed.

“Jesus aitch fucking
Christ
!”

She cracked the door and fetid salt air muscled into the cab, thick with the smell of putrid seaweed.

“Let’s see where we are,” she said.

Alice wrinkled her nose and waved a hand in front of her face. “After you.”

With her hand over her mouth and nose, Kristin stepped out. Ed followed, still rubbing his arm.

They were on the edge of a broad deck, a thousand metres in length, maybe a quarter that across. On one side of the car, a fifteen metre drop to the water; on the other, algae-covered timbers and masts the size of Redwoods. There were no sails, only rotten scraps of sun-bleached fabric flapping on the highest spars. At the stern, the superstructure rose in a series of stepped decks, linked by ladders. Doors hung open on their hinges. Broken portholes gaped. Slimy green and yellow algae dripped from every surface. A row of arches stood on the main deck between two of the tallest masts. Ed counted fifteen. They were lashed together with lengths of mouldering rope, some of which had rotted or frayed, and several of the arches had fallen flat against the deck.

Ed scratched his hair. He walked around the Land Rover to the ship’s smashed rail and inched his way to the edge of the deck. The algae squelched beneath the thick soles of his boots. Below, the sea moved sluggishly against the timbers. It looked oily with algae and black weed, and it stank of rotting vegetation. He spat into the water. A pair of outriggers jutted from the bows, each the size of a cross-Channel ferry, yet both dwarfed by the bulk of the main hull.

“Big ship,” he said.

Beside him, Kristin banged the toe of her boot against the planking.

“This wood seems flexible, but it must be incredibly tough stuff. On Earth, you couldn’t build a wooden ship even a tenth this big. It wouldn’t be strong enough to withstand a heavy sea.” She tapped her foot again. Then looking thoughtful, she folded her arms and walked off, in the direction of the stepped decks at the stern, stopping every few paces to examine the workmanship on the wooden deck, masts and rail. She even crouched to scoop a handful of algae into one of her plastic bags.

Ed watched her for a moment, then turned as he heard Alice slide open her window. The Land Rover had stopped with less than half a metre to spare, and her door overlooked the long drop to the weed-choked water. She craned her neck, peering down. Then with a shiver, she flicked her eyes upwards instead, away from the water.

“Look,” she said. “Two suns.”

Ed tipped his head back. The larger sun looked round and yellow, roughly the size of the Sun as seen from Earth. Beside it, the other appeared about the size of a button held at arm’s length: an angry blue spark in the sky, throwing its own faint shadows. It was the most alien thing he’d ever seen. He shivered and looked away.

Alice wriggled across to the driver’s door and stepped gingerly onto the slippery deck. She had her camera in her hand. Her hair shone like copper in the double sunlight.

“Come on, I want to take some pictures.” She took Ed’s arm and led him towards the stern. “What’s with all the arches?”

Ed was concentrating on not slipping over. “Maybe they were taking them somewhere, collecting them all together?”

“Like with the stone circle?”

“Yes, why not?”

Alice pursed her lips. “Perhaps they were trying to get rid of them, dump them all in the sea?” She turned towards him, shading her eyes. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? First the stone circle, now this. What were they afraid of?”

Behind her, a figure slid from an open door. Ed looked up expecting Kristin. Instead, he found himself gaping at the barrel of a compact machine pistol. Instinctively, he raised his hands. Alice jerked back from him, confused. She still hadn’t seen the man behind her.

“Don’t move,” Ed warned.

The red-faced man with the machine pistol stepped forward, aim unwavering.

He snapped, “Both of you, hands on your heads.”

Alice turned.

“
What
?”

She came face-to-face with the gun barrel and her eyes crossed trying to focus on it. She staggered backwards, stumbled, and ended up sat on the deck at Ed’s feet.

“Who are you?”

“Shut up!”

The man took a step forward, eyes wide and nostrils flared. He had a black moustache and he wore an olive vest, black combat trousers and high-laced boots. His skin was red and peeling from his face. The wind from the sea pulled at his hair.

“Get up and put your hands on your head.”

He watched her rise, and then stepped back out of reach. He looked around.

“Now, where’s your friend?”

Ed’s hands were clasped behind his neck, fingers interlocked, palms slick with sweat. His pulse hammered in his ears. Where was his gun?

He glanced back at the Land Rover’s open door. The shotgun stood propped in the foot well behind the driver’s seat. It was maybe twenty metres away. Could he reach it?

His calves tensed.

“Where is she?” The man held the pistol at his hip, its barrel wavering back and forth, covering both targets. Ed could see his index finger tight against the trigger.

“I’ll count to three.”

“I’m here.”

Kristin appeared at the rail of the next deck up, hands held at shoulder height. She had her hood down and her peroxide white hair shone in the blue and yellow light of the two suns.

The man jerked.

“Lieutenant Cole?”

“At ease, soldier.”

The gun barrel dipped.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Kristin lowered her hands. “Well, I’m here now.”

The man’s eyes flicked back to Ed and Alice. “And these two?”

“They’re with me.”

The eyes narrowed for a second. Then the soldier’s stance straightened and he shouldered the weapon.

“If you say so.”

Kristin looked at Ed. “This is Specialist Otto Krous,” she said. “He’s part of my team.”

Krous hadn’t eaten for two days, so Kristin dug a chocolate bar from Ed’s pack and gave it to him.

“What happened here?” she asked as he tore the wrapper.

They were standing by the broken rail, looking out at the flat, featureless horizon. A few feet away, Ed leaned against the Land Rover’s fender, arms folded, listening. His nostrils were full of the stink of the seaweed, and his skin itched where the light touched it. He looked at the skin peeling from Krous’s face, and glanced up at the blue and yellow suns.

“We should cover up or we’re going to get fried,” he said.

Behind him, Alice sat in the cab, shotgun resting on her knees, still angry about being held at gunpoint. Oblivious to her glares, Krous chewed a mouthful of chocolate and swallowed.

“We came through the arch too fast,” he said. “I mean, Fischer was driving and we can’t have been rolling at more than walking pace, but we were still going too fast to stop.” He kicked a heavy boot at the slippery algae on the planking of the deck. “Fischer hit the brakes as soon as we cleared the arch, but...”

Kristin put a hand on his shoulder.

“You went over?”

Krous leaned forward, looking down at the fetid black weed choking the water. His lips were a hard line. His eyes wouldn’t keep still.

“Yes, sir. We went straight through the rail. I managed to kick my way out.” He shuddered. “I had to fight through the weed.”

“And the others?”

Krous shook his head. He screwed up the chocolate bar wrapper and let it flutter down into the water. Kristin’s lips pressed together. She looked at Ed. From where he stood, he could see her eyes were filmy with unshed tears.

“So, what did you do?” she asked Krous, voice level.

The soldier looked up at the sky. “I clawed my way around to the back of the ship. There’s a dock there for small craft, and I managed to climb out of the water. I had my gun strapped across my chest, but everything else went down with the truck.” He swallowed hard and coughed into his fist. “For the last week, I’ve been living on glucose tablets and rain water, hoping you were coming.”

He scratched irritably at his forehead. Flakes of peeled skin fell like dandruff. When he spoke again, he was hoarse.

“I’d just about given up hope, sir.”

Kristin turned to survey the line of arches running the length of the deck.

“And you didn’t consider moving on, trying to reach the objective?”

Krous shook his head. His eyes burned with resentment.

“No sir, I thought my best chance was to wait for you.”

Ed straightened up. “Then why didn’t you go back to look for her?”

The soldier bunched his fists.

“Who is this idiot?” he said.

Kristin put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Stand down, private.”

Krous looked down at her. Then, abruptly, he turned to face the distant horizon.

Kristin left him and walked over to the Land Rover, arms folded, treading warily on the slimy deck. As she passed Ed, she said, “By the time he got back, I’d have either been long dead or already
en route
. We would have missed each other.”

Ed shrugged. He didn’t much care. He looked back at Alice glowering behind the windshield.

“So, what do we do now?”

Kristin paused. She glanced back to the edge of the deck, to the hunched figure of the soldier standing there.

“We go on,” she said.

In the driving seat, Ed rubbed his palms together.

“Is everybody ready?”

He glanced in the rear-view mirror. Alice wasn’t happy about riding in the back. She scowled at him. Beside her, Otto Krous sat with his eyes fixed forward. He held his machine pistol across his chest, ready for action. Sweat rolled down the blistered skin of his face.

“We’re ready,” Kirstin said, voice positive and self-assured, every inch the competent officer. “Just take it slowly, okay?” She glanced through the passenger side window at the water heaving against the sides of the wooden ship, far below. They were perilously close to the edge and the deck was slippery. One wrong move and they’d be in the sea.

Ed took a deep breath and let it out in a long, slow exhalation. He depressed the clutch pedal and turned the key in the ignition. The Land Rover’s 2.5 litre diesel engine juddered into life.

“Okay, hold on,” he said.

He slipped the gear lever into second and slowly let out the clutch. For a second, he felt the front wheels slither. It felt like driving on ice. Then the tyres bit and the Land Rover rolled forward, towards the row of arches stacked between the masts.

“You know, no-one’s asked what happened to the crew,” he said.

Kristin frowned.

“How do you mean?”

“The crew. What happened to the crew of this ship? Where did they go?”

Kirstin shrugged. “Into one of the arches, I expect.” She turned to Krous. “Did you find any sign of them?”

The soldier shook his head. He didn’t look like he cared one way or the other. “Is it significant, sir?”

Kristin turned to face forward. “No, probably not. If they’d had the technology to build the arches, they wouldn’t be carrying them around in a wooden boat. I guess they were just trying to use and understand them, same as we are.” Regretfully, she rubbed the outside of the hip pocket containing her sample bags. “But I still would have liked to have had the chance to have a proper look around.”

She turned her attention to the row of arches in front of them. “That way,” she said, pointing.

Ed leaned over the steering wheel. It was a random selection, but she sounded confident, speaking in a tone used to obedience, and he was in no mood to argue with her. He let the tyres roll forward. The big car eased into the arch she’d chosen. As they crossed the threshold, he closed his eyes to protect them from the white flash.

The next thing he knew, they were in darkness.

The ground crumbled away beneath their wheels. The Land Rover tipped over onto the driver’s side. The chassis scraped against solid rock with a metallic screech. Ed fumbled for the lights, but they were already falling sideways. The steering wheel yanked itself out of his hands. Alice cried out.

The car crashed down into shadow. It landed on its side, and the windows shattered.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MECHANICAL EQUIVALENT

Although it looked tiny when compared to the overall vastness of the Dho Ark, the entrance to the dock in its prow could have swallowed a city all by itself. Its maw dwarfed the
Ameline
as the little ship slid inside, navigation lights reflecting back from semi-opaque diamond walls a thousand metres thick.