Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London (29 page)

Johnny's arms were nearly wrenched out of their sockets. He felt the enormous strength of Nesaea as she surged through the darkness. There was no chance to look behind and check that Clara and Bram were still with them as his dolphin led the way. Nesaea powered through the underwater caverns, twisting and turning, heading deeper and deeper underground. The water was getting darker and colder and Johnny was starting to worry—he suspected dolphins could hold their breath a lot longer than humans and Melanians, and hoped Nesaea knew that. He was beginning to struggle. His heart was pumping furiously, hoping it might find oxygen from his lungs, but Johnny's lungs
were empty and bursting. Nesaea turned upward, but it must be too late. They'd never make it back to the surface in time. There was a red spot above them as the dolphin streaked upward. The spot glowed bigger. Johnny closed his eyes and hung on. He tried to think of anything to distract himself from the pain his body felt. He thought of Bentley, bleeding under the Proteus Institute; he thought of his mum, lifeless in a hospital bed; he thought of his mum and dad when he was little, together and happy, and his brother Nicky playing with him. He opened his eyes—they were almost there … just a few more seconds. He thought of Clara. It wasn't going to finish here, in the dark, no one ever knowing what happened. He had to hang on. Nesaea broke the surface of the water and Johnny followed, opening his mouth and welcoming the rush of air into his lungs. The others appeared either side of him. Bram climbed out into the chamber and reached a hand out to Johnny and Clara to pull them, wheezing, onto a red floor.

“It appears my capacity is rather larger than yours,” Bram said. With Johnny and Clara recovering on the floor he inspected the chamber, all of it lined with glowing orichalcum. There was a further stack of orichalcum in one corner, covering something up. Bram went across and started to remove the red mineral to see what was hidden underneath.

Johnny, still struggling for air, got to his feet and walked over to him. “Is it the Diaquant?” he asked. Bram shook his head, slowly. “What then?” Johnny asked. “Do you know?”

This time Bram nodded. “It's a bomb,” he said. “A very,
very
big bomb.”

“Congratulations, Senator,” crackled the electronic voice from Nesaea's back. “I am glad you recognize your predicament. The trap was set and you walked willingly into it.”

“Neith!” Bram shouted angrily.

“Of course,” said the mechanical voice, laughing flatly.

“How could you, Nesaea?” said Clara, sitting by the opening next to where the dolphins were swimming and where the voice was coming from.

“Don't blame the creature, my pretty,” said the voice. “She fought long before we fitted her harness. It was you who took the bait—you and your halfwit brother. Remember that, my pretty, as the clock ticks down. Goodbye.” Without warning, orichalcum-red panels slid across the opening to the chamber, sealing it shut with the dolphins under the water on the other side. Bram and Johnny ran across but were too late. Clara simply sat on the floor staring into space.

“How long have we got?” Johnny asked Bram.

“About two minutes,” replied Bram, very matter-of-factly.

“Can't you do anything?” Johnny asked him.

Bram shook his head, his hair sparkling in the red light. “In this particular instance, I fear I can do absolutely nothing.”

The chamber hummed in time with the pulsating red orichalcum walls. Johnny tried to catch Bram's eye but the future Emperor, who would never now hold that title, seemed lost for a moment in his own thoughts. Clara sat on the floor in the same spot where she'd climbed out of the water. Johnny had got his breath back, though it didn't seem to matter. He walked over to the orichalcum pile covering the bomb. Bram had removed enough of the red metal to reveal a display counting down. The symbols were meaningless, but there was no escaping the sense of doom that it gave Johnny to look at them. He'd walked into a trap. Worse, he'd run headlong into it. Neith and Mestor must have followed them into the little temple and staged their conversation purely for his benefit. They knew he'd run to get Bram. They knew he'd do exactly what they'd expected. He'd behaved like a puppet with them pulling his strings.

He stared at the hieroglyphs counting down and willed them to stop. Nothing happened. He screwed up his eyes and concentrated really hard but when he opened them the symbols had refused to obey. He kicked out at the red pile, sending pieces bouncing off the walls and clattering across the floor of the chamber. He felt someone standing behind him looking over his shoulder—it was Bram. “The orichalcum drains your energy—we're surrounded by it here. You cannot stop the countdown.”

“There's got to be something,” said Johnny. “There must be a way out.”

“Not every problem can be solved,” said Bram calmly. “Or sometimes it is not always we who can solve it.”

“We have to,” said Johnny. “Don't you see? I know the future—you're the Emperor.”

“Yes that is a conundrum,” said Bram, “truly a puzzle. What makes you think the timeline must be preserved?”

Bram was being infuriatingly calm. Time was running out. “Alf … Alf said it,” Johnny stammered. “We were going to destroy Earth before … in the past … but he said we
must
have saved it as we came from its future.”

“A compelling argument, don't you think?” said Bram. “After all, I would hate to be responsible for such a large paradox. If I give you a ship at some point in the future, but you come to the past where we die together—preventing me from ever giving you the ship in the first place—making it impossible for you to come here … it doesn't look good does it?” Bram's eyes were twinkling, reminding Johnny of how he'd been on Melania.

Johnny thought of Alf and Sol. What he wouldn't give to hear their voices. There was nowhere he'd rather be right now than back on the bridge of the Spirit of London, sitting in the captain's chair. He'd even be pleased to see the Chancellor.

“Why, Miss Clara,”
said a faraway voice that must have come from inside Johnny's head.
“What is going on?”

Johnny stared at the bomb again, watching the symbols on its display whirling round. “How long have we got?” he asked.

“Are you and Master Johnny all right?”
asked the voice in Johnny's head.

“About a minute now,” said Bram, “though my Atlantean has never been especially good. It could well be less.” He shrugged at Johnny.

“You can't leave me alone on this ship,”
squeaked a high-pitched voice.
“It doesn't listen to me. Get up. Get up at once you mechanical imbecile.”

Johnny knew his final minute should be spent with Clara. He turned round. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring into space as though in a trance. What he hadn't expected was to find Alf lying on the floor next to her and, further on, to see an arch that led onto the bridge of the Spirit of London. The Chancellor, looking flustered, was standing just on the other side.

“What … how?” said Johnny. “What's happening?”

“How very interesting,” said Bram. “It appears your sister is owlein.”

“Ow what?” said Johnny.

“Owlein,” said Bram. “It is the quality that makes the creatures known as plicans so special. Clara has folded the space between the chamber and your ship in much the same way. It is an impressive feat. Come, Johnny—time is running out,” he said, suddenly energized.

They hurried over to Alf. Johnny knelt down beside him and twisted his ear until it snapped back into position. The android sat up and said, “Master Johnny—whatever was that? I stepped through an arch … there it is! Where is this place?”

“Don't worry about it, Alf,” said Johnny. “We're leaving.”

Alf looked around the chamber, at Bram and then at Clara. “And what has happened to Miss Clara? Is she all right?”

“We'll explain later,” said Johnny. “Right now we have to get back.”

“Johnny—you and Alf must go through first,” said Bram. “I'll bring Clara.”

Johnny understood. He nodded and stepped through the arch, pushing a reluctant Alf in front of him as the Chancellor shuffled out of the way. Alf collapsed onto the bridge of the
Spirit of London. Johnny sank to his knees feeling ill, but looked behind to see Bram carrying Clara through the archway, which folded away into nothingness behind them. Clara came to, looked at him and smiled. “I did it, didn't I?” She beamed. Johnny smiled back. “I knew I could. I folded us both through that Arch of Lysentia—just a couple of centimeters—I borrowed the shape and knew I could do more.”

“You did brilliantly,” said Johnny, as once again he twisted Alf's left ear to reboot the android, who sat up looking rather disorientated.

A female voice cut in. “Johnny—I am detecting a massive explosion underneath the city.”

“Hi, Sol,” said Johnny. “That was meant for us.”

“For you?” squeaked the Chancellor. “What did you do to upset them?”

“Do? We didn't
do
anything,” said Johnny.

“Let's just say the natives weren't friendly,” added Bram.

“I seem to remember they didn't take too kindly to you,” said Clara to the Chancellor.

“A simple misunderstanding,” replied Gronack. “I'm sure if I made contact again we could sort it out in no time”

“Though you will do no such thing,” said Bram, striding into the middle of the bridge. “It is imperative the Atlanteans believe us to be dead. That way, taking the Diaquant should be slightly easier.”

“Taking the Diaquant?” squeaked Gronack. “No wonder they tried to kill you. You're even more irresponsible than your older self.” The phasmeer's robes turned a very pale green.

“Thank you,” said Bram, trying to hide a smile.

“Honestly—you're all impossible,” said the Chancellor, who scuttled toward the lifts and off the bridge.

“Are you serious?” Johnny asked Bram. “You said you weren't even sure what the Diaquant is, let alone where it is.”

“Oh I know exactly where it is,” said Bram. “And now I know how we can get there.” He was looking at Clara.

As soon as they could, Johnny and Clara had changed out of their Atlantean clothes and into their Melanian tunics, in which Johnny felt much more comfortable. Not that he wouldn't keep his priestly robes as a souvenir. Then they braved a visit to the dinodeck. Between them Johnny and Clara decided that the dinosaur with the spiked back and clubbed tail that Johnny first spotted in the forest was probably an ankylosaurus. Clara was really excited to get close enough for one to lick her face, even though she screwed her eyes up at its hot, stale breath. Alf had refused point blank to come down with them and reluctantly Johnny and Clara decided they couldn't spend too long, but Johnny wanted to tell Ptery the truth. He had to shout to Ptery to make himself understood above the tremendous din as the different animals growled and howled at each other from their electronically segregated compartments. The winged dinosaur and his companion surveyed them from atop a large rock in the middle of the deck. The two children clambered up to join them. Johnny tried to explain what had happened and how the world Ptery had known wasn't there any more. The dinosaur stared down at Johnny unblinking, while a single tear rolled down his companion's face. It seemed they both had glimpsed the initial destruction through Sol's walls and understood. Ptery said he would call a dinocouncil and tell the survivors.

The other pteradon spoke and Johnny was able to understand her. She told him that she and Ptery were the elders now and that the other dinosaurs had become their flock. And that she, too, needed a name. Despite only understanding Johnny's half of the conversation, Clara quickly grasped what was going on.

“Call her Donna,” she said. “Pteradons—Ptery and Donna.”

“Donna?” Johnny asked, but as he said it, Ptery and his companion repeated the name to each other and seemed satisfied.

Donna bowed her head low to Clara who, after receiving a quick nod from Johnny, bowed in return. Clara stood up straight and Sol's voice rang out across the deck, asking them to return to the bridge.

Bram was there waiting, talking with Sol. Johnny sat down in the captain's chair, swiveling to and fro, while Clara stood behind him with one arm on the plican's tank. The future Emperor paced excitedly in front of them. Bram explained he couldn't return to his own ship without revealing himself to be alive and that it was only a matter of time before the Atlanteans tried to seize the Spirit of London and add her to their everexpanding navy. They had to act at once while they still had surprise on their side. Bram assured them that the Diaquant was at the top of the tower at the very center of Atlantis, from where its power could radiate across the globe. Alf, who was standing at an instrument panel off to one side, confirmed that the tower housed a massive, and very unusual, energy source. It would be for Clara to fold them there; she positively beamed and said she couldn't wait to try folding again. Sol helped out with very precise measurements of the distance from the bridge to their destination, while keeping a close eye on the movements of the soldiers encircling her base.