Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London (34 page)

Clara was also up and on her way to the bridge, dressed in her Proteus Institute school uniform. Alf was already on the bridge when they stepped out of the lifts together. Johnny stifled a yawn and wondered if their friend needed any sleep at all. Happily there was no sign of the Chancellor who must still be in its quarters. It was a beautiful morning. The sunlight reflected off the surrounding buildings and rooftops. Johnny looked around properly for the first time—it was a brilliant view. Nearby was St. Paul's Cathedral and the Tower of London
and in the distance he could see the giant big wheel that was the London Eye.

“Everyone ready?” he asked. Alf and Clara nodded back. “OK. Let's go. Sol—keep an open channel.”

“Of course, Johnny.”

The three of them descended the height of the ship and stepped out of the revolving doors into the early morning London air. Two blue-uniformed security guards gave them bemused looks and shrugged at each other as Johnny, in his white top and black trousers, Clara in her gingham check and Alf, with his pinstriped suit and bowler hat, crossed the little courtyard in front of the Gherkin, climbed a few short steps and entered a black cab parked in a taxi rank opposite.

The Jubilee had more than enough sensory equipment on board to know when any of London's myriad CCTV cameras were pointing toward it. As soon as they reached a blackspot on the road Alf blinked hard and Johnny watched as everything in the shuttle, including himself, disappeared before his eyes.

“Ow! You nearly got my eye,” said Clara, as Johnny waved an invisible arm out to check she was still there.

“Sorry.”

“Hold on,” said Alf.

Johnny wondered just what he should hold on to as his invisible self leapt skyward, leaving his stomach down at street level. Once they were above the buildings the Jubilee leveled out and shot forward at breathtaking speed. In less than a minute the sprawl of London gave way to green and yellow fields. They sped over another town, climbed to avoid a small chain of hills and within no time at all began a gentle descent toward a deserted road. Johnny braced for impact as he saw the tarmac whizzing by just beneath his invisible feet, and was relieved as the floor of the shuttle, his feet and legs, and then the rest of him and the others reappeared just
before the gentlest of landings. They continued in car-like fashion along the empty road.

“Isn't it great?” Clara asked. “Bet you wished you'd been with us the last time?”

Johnny nodded. It was a fun way to travel, and definitely more comfortable than going through a fold. Now he could actually see her close up, Clara was looking exhausted. “You can stay in the shuttle if you want—let Alf come. We'll call if we need you.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Of course you need me. Don't fuss—I'll be fine.”

Johnny knew better than to argue. The Jubilee passed a road sign indicating that Yarnton Hill was three miles off to the left. As Alf kept going straight on, Johnny thought about saying something, but when they rounded the next bend a familiar valley came into view.

Anyone watching would have seen a slightly out-of-place black London taxi drive along the road in front of the school grounds, past the maze in one corner and come to a halt in a lay-by just a little further on. If they'd looked closer they might have noticed that, although nobody had left the taxi, it now appeared empty of both the driver and the passenger who had been inside just a moment earlier.

“Let's tool up,” said Johnny, trying to sound braver than he felt. He opened a compartment in front of him and took out two things that looked very like watches, handing one to Clara and fastening the other around his wrist. Then he picked out a couple of small see-through devices and again gave one to his sister. He slid the other into his left ear.

“Testing,” said Johnny, holding the wrist-mounted communicator, or “wristcom,” up to his mouth and looking at Clara, who nodded.

“I do wish I could come with you,” said Alf.

“Can't risk it,” Johnny replied. “What if one of us can't reboot you after a fold … we've got to have someone here anyway,” he added, seeing the downcast look on Alf's face. “It's really important.”

“Johnny—I can see you,” said Clara, but she wasn't looking at him. She was looking away from the institute and up the hill.

“Where?” Johnny asked, joining his sister as they peered out of the window together.

“There—you're over by the hedgerow.”

Johnny and Alf followed where Clara was pointing and stared as another Johnny, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, together with Louise in her green jacket, were sneaking down the hillside along the edge of a field, trying to catch up with the two dogs in front of them. The group reached the road and hurried along toward the shuttle. Clara laughed nervously as they got closer.

“Shhh!” urged Johnny.

“The craft is sound-proofed,” said Alf quietly. “They cannot hear us, but I cannot stress again the importance of you not being seen.”

Two cars rounded the bend behind and came toward them along the road. The other Johnny and his companions took cover right behind the Jubilee, until the four-by-fours were gone. Then, half bent over, they ran along the road in the direction of the maze.

“Not yet,” said Johnny.

They watched as the other Johnny knelt down in front of Bentley, telling his faithful friend to wait for his return. The Johnny in the shuttle was getting very nervous. His other self and Louise jumped together onto the fence which gave way under their combined weight, before springing back into position.

“OK. Let's go,” said Johnny. Clara opened the door on the far side from the institute and they both stepped out and ran along the road. As they reached the point where he'd watched himself
jump a few moments earlier he crouched down and hissed, “Bentley.” The familiar gray and white face appeared from out of a ditch. Rusty also lifted her head, but took one look at Johnny, whimpered and hid back down.

“Bent's—it's me,” said Johnny.

Bentley tilted his head to one side and looked toward Johnny.

“Look—we haven't got much time,” Johnny continued. “It's OK, boy. Come here.” Johnny patted the ground beside him.

Bentley growled, uncertainly, but then he walked very slowly forward until he reached Johnny and started to sniff.

“Good boy … good boy, Bents,” said Johnny, taking the dog's big head in his hands.

Clara sat down on the other side of Johnny, facing the fence with her arms out. Instantly, an arch-shaped hole appeared in the perimeter. Bentley whimpered and tried to bolt, but Johnny grabbed his collar and held on tightly.

“It's OK … it's OK, Bents,” hissed Johnny. Bentley calmed down and turned to face the archway. “Good boy,” said Johnny, letting go, patting the sheepdog and standing up and walking to right in front of the opening. “Come on, Bents.” Bentley crept gingerly forward to join Johnny, but then he stopped, turned and barked for Rusty to join him. The red setter followed, tail between her legs.

The dogs entered the arch together and Johnny pulled Clara through and held her upright as the fence reappeared behind them. For a second he thought she'd fainted from the effort of the fold, but then she opened her eyes and smiled. She sat down on the grass. Johnny knelt down in front of Bentley and gave him a huge hug. “It's good to see you Bents,” he said. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was to send the Old English sheepdog off to get injured, but there was no choice. He let go, bent down at the foot of the maze and held two branches apart
to make as big a gap as he could. “Off you go, boy. Go find me … go find Johnny.” Bentley tilted his head onto one side again, giving Johnny a very quizzical look, before scrambling through the narrow opening at the foot of the hedge. Rusty followed. It was just as well because there were footsteps approaching from round the corner.

“Hide,” whispered Clara.

There was nothing for it. Johnny dived for the hole that the two dogs had widened. As he pulled his legs through as quietly as he could, he heard a man's voice say, “What are you doing here?”

“Nothin.”'

“Nothing, Sir. Where are your manners?”

“Sorry, Sir.”

Johnny turned around and peered through the opening to try to see what was happening. Clara was still sitting on the grass looking up, but all Johnny could see was a man's pale trousers and brown shoes.

“What are you doing so close to the fence?”

“Just wanted to be on my own … Sir.”

“There are plenty of places in the grounds for … reflection. This, young lady, is not one of them. Come with me.”

“But Sir,” said Clara, getting to her feet before falling back down to the ground.

“What's wrong with you?”

“Nothing, Sir. I just got up too quickly.”

“Come with me. I'm taking you to the doctor.”

“But Sir.”

“No buts.”

Two sets of footsteps moved away from where Johnny was lying. This was all wrong. The plan had been for Clara to fold them into the storeroom where they'd left Bentley. He'd have to improvise. “Clara,” he said into his wristcom, “I'm going to go
in by the sundial. Try to lose this guy and meet me in the storeroom. If you can hear me, say … say what a nice day it is.”

“It's a lovely day isn't it, Sir?” came the voice inside Johnny's ear.

“I definitely don't think you're well, Clara. The sooner we get you to the doctor the better.”

Johnny had to be so careful getting to the center of the maze that by the time he made it, the sundial Clara had opened had already slid shut above their other selves. Stevens's body lay a few feet away in the clearing. Johnny walked over to the sundial, wondering how he could get it to open. He had to act quickly. He could hear voices getting louder, coming through the maze toward him. There were so many different brass fittings he didn't know which to pick. If only he could remember what Clara had done. The shadow cast by the central gnomon pointed to a quarter past eleven. Johnny ran his fingers over the spike and felt an indentation. Someone had pressed a little trident shape into the metal. He tried to twist it, but all that happened was it snapped off in his hand, while the rest of the sundial remained exactly where it was. The voices were really close now. Johnny tried to put the spike back but it wouldn't stay upright. The clearing had two ways in. He moved away from the noise, pocketing the piece of brass as he went, and crept out of one side just before two stocky krun in their trademark dark suits entered from the other. They didn't bother with Stevens. Instead they went straight toward the sundial and, even before they reached it, the heavy plinth rolled smoothly out of the way revealing the steps beneath. Down they went. Johnny followed, creeping inside after them before the opening slid shut above his head. He waited on the top steps for the krun to move further down into the underground corridors and tried his wristcom.

“Clara … Alf,” he whispered. “Can anyone hear me?” There was a static hum inside his ear. He tried again, a little louder, but still nothing. It sounded like he was on his own. A noise from below told him the krun had blasted the crates out of the way and joined the main corridor. Johnny made his way carefully down the wrought-iron steps and squeezed through between the smoldering boxes.

Up in front were the two krun. Johnny followed behind, willing the suited figures not to turn around. He moved silently between the points where other corridors crossed, stopping to peer ahead round the corners. The krun halted. Johnny couldn't risk being spotted, so pressed himself against the wall of a side passage, trying to control his breathing and heartbeat. After a while he risked looking round. The two figures had disappeared—he'd have to hurry. As quietly as he could, Johnny ran along the corridor, watching out for the occasional spots of blood on the floor that must have come from Bentley or Louise and told him he was heading in the right direction.

The trail of blood stopped—it must be the point where they'd turned off before. Johnny could hear someone talking. He poked his head around the corner and saw the corridor was deserted. The storeroom where they'd left Bentley was just on the right, which was where the voice was coming from.

“Don't you hate these things—they can sniff us out wherever we go. I say we get rid of it.”

Johnny turned the corner and started edging along the wall toward the open door. A second voice spoke from within the storeroom.

“Wait—it might be useful to us. The child cares deeply for it.”

“I don't think so,”
said the first voice.
“As soon as he got into trouble he left it behind.”

Johnny felt the anger rising inside him. He'd reached the doorway and peered through the crack between the door and its
hinges. One of the krun knelt over Bentley, who lay on the floor with cartons scattered behind and a deep red pool of blood slowly spreading underneath him. The krun stood up and held a finger to his ear. Johnny felt for the brass spike in his pocket that was his only weapon.