INCARNATION (72 page)

His lungs close to bursting, he pushed desperately for the surface. Moonlight and false hope, he thought, as his head broke through the water. He thought of Nabila fighting death in the hospital and wondered if her lone struggle had been eaten up along with everybody else’s.

He came up closest to the rowboat, which had drifted a little from the dinghy. Maddie was leaning over the edge, nervously awaiting his reappearance. When he finally did so, she sank back on the front thwart and breathed deeply to calm the thick patter of her heart.

He managed to get the box on board the rowboat, then climbed over the gunnel himself. He had never felt wetter or colder in his life. The bottom of the little boat was awash in water, and he began to worry that it might start taking on more with his extra weight.

The computer turned on without a blink. It was a Macintosh PowerBook G3, and David felt a surge of relief when he realized it was a machine he knew how to operate.

He found and opened the application that ran the entire arming, countdown and triggering procedure. Someone - probably not Farrar - had given it a nickname: "Last Laugh". It sounded like a regular computer game, and when he opened it - Farrar had not bothered locking it or using a password - it looked like a game. He was tempted to breathe a sigh of relief and discard it then, but for one thing: the programme contained two files, one in Chinese, one in Arabic, setting out the technical specifications for the weapon. A quick glance at the Chinese file showed David that, if this was a game, it could have massively fatal consequences.

Pulling down menus, he quickly located the programme’s main control panels, and within those a clock showing the countdown. He had eleven minutes left.

The control panels also gave him access to the command sequence that would allow him to abort the entire procedure. Carefully, as water washed round his ankles and his teeth banged together from cold, he tracked his way through it, each step taking him nearer to the last. Then, just when he thought he’d done it, the screen flickered and there was an image of a hand. On the palm sat a flashing message that requested him to place his own palm on the screen. He stared at it for a moment, then corrected himself. Not his palm. Anthony Farrar’s palm.

He thought it through in seconds, then started rowing back to the dinghy, positioning the rowboat roughly where it had been before.

‘Maddie, are you OK?’

‘Yes, I’m fine. What’s taking you so long?’

‘I’m nearly through. Look, I think I’d better come across to the dinghy.’

He rowed across the gap separating them and handed the lap-top to Maddie before stepping into the rowboat. The bag was in the rear of the dinghy, where he’d left it. Rummaging inside, he located the Ek knife, the same one he’d had in the Taklamakan, the same sharp blade. He clutched it tightly in one hand and removed the sheath.

‘Dad, take care.’

Maddie kissed him on the cheek.

‘I’ll do my best,’ he said, dropping over the side into the lake.

He went down like a stone, the night-sight in his left hand, the knife in the right, its cord tight round his wrist. For a few moments, it seemed easier to him just to let go, to flood his lungs with water and join Farrar at the bottom of the lake. The vegetation might hold them both down there for years, perhaps they’d just decay until their bones fell to the lake floor, never to be found. It was only the thought of Maddie in the dinghy, drifting without purpose as the sun came up and the day ahead lengthened into unimaginable grief that kept him to his purpose. That and the faintest flicker of belief that Nabila was alive and might go on living if he was fast enough.

He thought he’d been down eleven minutes and more, but that was impossible, so he went on searching, even though his lungs were screaming for air. He knew Farrar had to be there, but whichever way he turned, however hard he strained, he saw only fish and weeds. His lungs were burning as though on fire, and at the last possible moment he gave in, kicking away from the bottom. He shot towards the surface, but even as he rose he started to lose consciousness.

Then the water broke all around him, and he was in the air, gasping and spitting, gulping the air in greedily, the way he remembered drinking down water in the desert. Again and again he sucked down lungfuls of the stuff, until his head was spinning and his chest ached. When he glanced at his watch, there were barely seven minutes left.

He swam to the dinghy and saw Maddie looking down at him.

'I’ve got to go down again,’ he said. ‘What’s it say on the computer screen?’

‘There’s a message in the middle of the hand. It says “Abort before final countdown. Six minutes remaining.”’

He closed his eyes, sucked in all the air his lungs would take, and headed back under. This time, something curious happened. It was as if he could hear Nabila’s voice inside his head, urging him on, telling him not to kick so much, but to let the panic subside and the water take him into itself. He heard her whispering, as though her lips were brushing his ear, words of caution and rebuke.

Next moment he was there again, swimming above that rotten prehistoric heart while the fish stared at him in open horror or fascination. He put the night-sight to his eye and started to scan in a slow circle. His eye felt tired, and at times the picture blurred, but he went on. ‘Slowly,’ whispered Nabila. ‘Don’t force it. Let it come to you.’

He saw him suddenly, as a priest might see a crucifix in the near distance, after a long road, in a place where nothing might have been expected. In a matter of seconds, he was staring into the cold blank eyes.

As he reached out for the nearest hand, the chill thought came - What if I take the wrong hand to the surface? But he thought back to the lap-top and decided that Farrar had used his right hand.

Cutting without a hard surface underneath proved harder than he’d expected. The blade cut as well as ever, but it lacked purchase. He ended up with Farrar’s arm between his legs, while one foot pushed down on his neck, clutching his hand while sawing hard through the wrist. He cut and sawed and splintered and snapped his way through a forest of thick and fine bones and tendons. Then there was a last sensation of tearing, and he realized he was losing consciousness from lack of oxygen.

He kicked and kicked again, pushing up in a last-ditch venture against death, Farrar’s hand gripped tightly in his like a rabbit in an eagle’s talon. He came crashing to the surface, and would have gone down again, drinking half the lake, had not Maddie caught sight of him at once and pushed for him, reaching him in time to grab his arms and haul him on board.

He retched and retched and retched, then pointed to the computer.

‘Maddie, take it … take the … hand and … put it on … the screen.’

She backed away from him, all her terrors reviving, her barely dormant nightmares coming back to life.

‘No,’ she said. ‘No, I won’t touch it. It’s horrible.’

‘You have … seconds, that’s all. Millions of people ... will die. I can’t live … with that, can … you?’

He struggled to get to a kneeling position, but he was still too disoriented to remain upright.

‘You have to … do it, Maddie. Please.’

‘Is she there?’

‘She?’

‘I don’t know. The woman you wrote about. The one in your letter. That you love.’

He hesitated, then nodded just once.

‘All right, then, I’ll do it for her.’ And she stretched out for Farrar’s hand and lifted it to the screen.

‘How long?’ asked David. ‘How long to abort?’

‘Twenty seconds. It’s accepted the palm print.’ She threw the hand away in disgust. ‘Now it wants a password.’

David looked up in pure horror. There was no way he could ever outguess Farrar, not with seconds to spare, but suddenly, it was as if every conversation he’d ever had with Farrar flashed through his brain, and the answer was in the last.

‘Maddie,’ he said. ‘It’s a name. A Chinese woman’s name. Type it in carefully, you won’t get a second chance. M-E-I-H-U-A.’

She did as he told her. The moment the ‘A’ was keyed in, a large message appeared: ‘OPERATION ABORTED’.

Above their heads, the stars and the moon went on shining, unimaginable pleasures eternally denied. David wondered how beautiful Meihua had been, and how she had died. And he thought of Nabila, and how beautiful she was, and wondered if she was still alive. And Lizzie dead. And Maddie on the edge of insanity, the only part of his world he knew for certain. He drew up the anchor and started the slow pull back to the lights that waited on the shore.

H
e went to the hospital alone. Maddie was still too ill to go with him, even if he’d wanted her to. She was having enough trouble coming to terms with her mother’s death. Rose insisted she stay with him for the foreseeable future.

He looked for Blennerhassett as soon as he set foot in the unit, but the doctor was nowhere to be seen. The room where Nabila had been was just off the corridor. Already knowing what he would find, he headed there on his own.

The door opened on to an empty room. His heart skipped a beat, knowing now for certain what it meant. He stared at the bed, at the stands and trolleys and monitors and drips that still surrounded it.

He went back to the corridor. There was no one in authority to whom he could speak.

He’d go home now, and enquire later about what had been done with her, about the arrangements for her burial. He’d have to see to that. And a headstone with her name carved on it. He remembered that he didn’t know her date of birth. And anyone who might have known was buried in the ruins of Kashgar.

He’d almost left the hospital when he heard a voice behind him.

‘Mr Rodgers?’

He turned to see the Irish doctor. For a moment he could not remember his name.

‘Dr Blennerhassett … I’ve just been to …”

‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you.’

‘I was away. My daughter …’

‘Oh, yes, so you said. Have you seen her?’

‘Maddie? Yes, she …’

‘No, I didn’t mean your daughter. Your wife. Aren’t we all over the moon about it? You must be a happy man.’

‘Happy? I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. We’re talking at cross purposes. I thought she’d died. Her room was empty.’

Blennerhassett’s face changed colour.

‘When did this happen? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I saw your wife no more than twenty minutes ago, and she was fit as a horse.’

David didn’t know what to do or think. Had Nabila been alive and died within the past few minutes? Or had there been a ghastly mistake?

Blennerhassett dashed for a phone, while David sank on to a chair and tried to think of nothing. There was a quick burst of conversation, then the doctor slammed the phone back down.

‘Jesus!’ he said, ‘I’ll crucify you if you give me another turn like that. Your wife is perfectly well and sitting up in bed asking where you’ve gone. I think you owe her an apology. Ah, come on now, you’ll be making me blub as well. They tell me if I ever show emotion on the job I’ll get the sack. Isn’t it a grand profession? Come on with me and I’ll take you to her. By the way, there’s a flower shop just over there, just in case you had it in mind.’

‘D
r Rose? This is David Laing. How’s Maddie?’

‘Why ask me? She’s very ill, you know that. Your wife and her idiot boyfriend have a lot to answer for.’

‘It’s my impression that’s exactly what they’re busy doing at this very minute. If you believe in an afterlife, that is.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean …’

‘Of course you didn’t. Look, there’s someone I’d like Maddie to meet. It may do her some good.’

‘Well, you can come over, but I can’t promise anything. That cocaine did some terrible damage.’

‘I’ll be over soon.’

They scarcely spoke on the way across. Just being together and out of danger was enough for them these days.

‘I like your parents,’ she said. ‘Your mother reminds me of an old aunt of mine. In fact, I think they’re related.’

They stayed with Maddie for about an hour. Nabila found some sort of bond with her at once. As the visit came to an end, Maddie turned to her father.

‘Are you two getting married?’ she asked.

‘Well, I ...’ David flushed. ‘It’s a bit ...’

Nabila shook her head in disgust.

The answer is, “Yes” - but only if you’re happy. Take your time and think about it. If it’s a “Yes”, we’ll get married the minute you leave this dump.’

Maddie smiled.

‘I’ll think about it,’ she said.

‘Well, don’t be too long about it,’ said David. ‘I’m getting on in years.’

Nabila leaned across and kissed Maddie gently on both cheeks.

‘Maddie, if you’re willing, I’d like to try to help you. Would you like that, or would the herbs frighten you?’

‘No. I’d give anything a try. Do you think you can do something?’

Nabila nodded gravely.

‘Yes, I think I can do something. With that and ...'

She turned to David.

‘Oh, yes,’ he said. ‘Maddie, I’ve got a small present for you. All the way from China.’

He reached into his pocket and brought out a crumpled sheet of paper. Without a word, he passed it to Maddie. She held it for a moment without speaking, sensing, perhaps, what it was.

‘Open it,’ urged Nabila.

With shaking fingers she unfolded it. For a minute or more she stared at it, overcome with fear and longing.

‘Is it ... genuine?’

‘Oh, yes. Very genuine,’ David said.

‘I can’t read all the characters,’ she said.

‘That doesn’t matter.’

Nabila smiled at him.

‘Tell her,’ she said.

‘Well, I ... I got some of our people on to this several days ago.’

‘And?’

He broke into the biggest smile he’d ever known.

‘You have another visitor waiting downstairs. Shall I show him up?’