Lord Sunday (4 page)

Incompa…

“But how can this be the Incomparable Gardens?” asked Arthur as soon as the words were finished, a long minute later. “And why are my house and my mother in it?”

Can’t answer…opposed by the Seventh Key…
came the ever-so-slow reply. The last word was almost unreadable, the final letter not much more than a blob of ink with a downstroke.

“Is that really Emily upstairs?” Arthur asked. He focused his mind more strongly upon the Atlas, and slipped his hands into his pouch to hold and draw on the power of both the Fifth and Sixth Keys, the mirror in his left hand and the pen in his right. He could feel something fighting back, some power opposing his
attempt to use the Atlas. It was like an unseen presence pressing on his face, trying to push him back from the table and the open book.

Arthur fought against it, though he remembered Dame Primus saying the Seventh Key was paramount, the most powerful of all, and like all the Keys, it was even stronger in its own demesne. But surely, he thought, having two Keys would enable him to have some chance against it?

The Atlas slowly wrote a single, misshapen letter. Arthur couldn’t quite figure it out for a moment, till he turned his head slightly and saw it was a
Y
that was partly rotated, followed very slowly by two more letters.

“Yes,” read Arthur aloud.

But the Atlas kept writing. Another word appeared, each letter painstakingly spelled out over several seconds.

“And,” read Arthur, and then, “no.”

“Yes and no? How can it be yes and no?” Arthur asked angrily. He felt rage build up inside him. How dare this ineffectual Atlas be so slow and so inexact!

“I must have the answer!” shouted Arthur.
He thumped the table with the Keys and thought furiously at the Atlas.
What do you mean, “yes and no”?

But the Atlas wrote no more and Arthur felt the power that opposed him grow stronger. It kept pushing at his face and he found himself turning his head, unable to keep looking at the Atlas, no matter how hard he tried. Then, with a crack, his head snapped round past his left shoulder, and with a snap that was almost as loud, the Atlas shut itself and returned to its normal size.

Arthur growled. His vision was washed with red, a red that pulsed with his rapidly beating heart. He lost conscious thought. In one second he was sitting at the table, the rage building inside him. In what felt like the next second he found himself standing above the wreckage of the table, his hands balled into fists, with splinters of wood sticking out from his knuckles.

The Atlas, undamaged, lay on top of the broken pile of wood.

Arthur stared at it and the splintered timber. He was shocked by what he had done, for the table had been old and immensely solid, and could not have
been smashed by even the strongest of men without a sledgehammer. He was even more shocked by the fact that he had done it involuntarily, that the rage had been so strong he had lashed out without his conscious mind even being aware of it.

The anger was still there, smouldering away like a fire that needed only the merest breath to make it blaze again. It scared him, because it came out of nowhere and was so powerful. He had never been like this before. He was not an angry person. Or at least, he had not been before he became the Rightful Heir. Once again, as he had thought so often, he wished he had not been chosen by the Will to be the Heir, even though it had told him he would otherwise have died from an asthma attack. That was the only reason he’d been chosen, or so the Will had said. It had wanted a mortal, and one who was about to die.

Arthur shivered and forced himself to take a long, slow breath. He counted to six as he breathed in, and to six as he exhaled. As he did so, he felt the rage diminish. He tried to visualise it being forced back into a small, locked box from which it could not emerge without him consciously releasing it.

After a few minutes, he felt slightly calmer again and was able to think about what was going on.

OK, I’m in some part of the Incomparable Gardens. I need to get out, get back to the Great Maze, and rally the Army of the Architect to invade the Upper House.

Arthur stopped in mid-thought. That was what Part Six of the Will had suggested, but perhaps that wasn’t the best course of action. Dame Primus and Sir Thursday’s Marshals could get the Army organised without him, and whatever might be the outcome of any battle, he would still need to find Part Seven of the Will and release it. Then, with its help, he could force Sunday to give up the Seventh Key. With that in his possession, it wouldn’t matter if Saturday or the Piper conquered the Incomparable Gardens. With all Seven Keys, Arthur could defeat any opposition. And, more important, he could stop the tide of Nothing that was destroying the House.

All I have to do is find the Will,
thought Arthur with sudden clarity.
I’ve done it before. I can do it here. I’m attuned to the Will. I am in the Incomparable Gardens and it is supposed to be here somewhere. I’ll just focus my mind on it and it will tell me where it is
.

While this was the most prominent thought in
Arthur’s mind, another small part was not so sure. As he tried to focus his thoughts on where Part Seven of the Will might be, a good portion of his subconscious was also trying to tell him that this might not be a good idea, that it might even alert Lord Sunday to his presence, and that despite the two Keys he held, and the overconfidence they had engendered in him, Lord Sunday and the Seventh Key would probably make very short work of Arthur, especially an Arthur who was without allies of any kind.

But the angry, triumphant Arthur was more powerful. He bent his mind on reaching Part Seven of the Will. He was just thinking he felt some feeble touch from it when the green hedge suddenly shivered and split apart. A boy – a Piper’s child – stepped through the gap and, without a word of warning, lunged at Arthur with a six-foot-long, three-tined gardening fork, each of the tines red-hot, the air around them blurred from the intense heat they radiated.

L
eaf adjusted the surgical mask she was wearing to keep the radioactive dust out of her lungs. She had a white doctor’s coat on as well, surgical gloves and a floral plastic shower cap on her head. Once upon a time, the other people in the line might have laughed at her, but now they all wore strange combinations of hats and headscarves and raincoats and rubber gloves – anything to avoid breathing the radioactive dust and to keep it off their skin.

She’d been waiting in the line for water, food and antiradiation drugs since soon after dawn that Sunday
morning. The Army had fired their micronukes at East Area Hospital a little over twenty-eight hours before, at one minute past midnight on Saturday morning, initiating a hellish twenty-four hours for Leaf and Martine and all the sleepers at Friday’s private hospital.

It would have been bad enough for Leaf on her own, without the added responsibility of looking after all the people who had been put to sleep by Lady Friday, who had wanted to harvest their memories. After Friday’s defeat, Leaf had shepherded the sleepers back from Friday’s otherworldly lair, only to learn of the impending nuclear strike, and then as Arthur’s time stop had begun to wear off, she’d had to make a frantic and not entirely successful attempt to move everyone to the underground level.

Though Friday’s building was less than a mile from East Area Hospital, there was a slight hill between them, and it had also been shielded by a taller, very solid warehouse building, so it had not been badly damaged by the explosive force of the micronukes. However, there had been small fires all around the outside and everything was contaminated by radiation – though no one knew how bad the
contamination was and Leaf hadn’t been able to find out. To make the situation even more difficult, all the sleepers had woken up over the course of the Saturday morning, and were badly disoriented and often wanted to just get up and get out. This was double trouble, because all the doors needed to be kept shut to keep radioactive particles out as much as the sleepers inside.

An hour or so after the nuclear strike, special fire trucks had rumbled in and put out the spot fires with their water and foam cannons, though no fire-fighters got out of the vehicles. They were followed by armoured personnel carriers that drove up and down the streets, their external bullhorns loudly crackling with instructions to civilians to stay inside, keep doors and windows sealed, and stand by for further orders.

Those further orders had come on Saturday night, with designated aid stations to be opened the next morning to issue water, food and medication. Every household had been told to send one member, and warnings were issued about wearing gloves, a face mask of some kind and a coat that could be discarded before going back inside.

Leaf had come out to get help for the sleepers, who included her Aunt Mango. Lady Friday had never intended that her private hospital would actually cater to live patients, so there was very little food or medicine, and the only water they knew was not contaminated came from a single water cooler barrel that had been in the front office, and that had only been enough for the merest sip when shared among so many people.

Leaf ran her tongue around the inside of her dry mouth as she thought of that water barrel. She could see people ahead of her in the line coming back carrying big, sealed containers of water and Army-issue backpacks that were presumably stuffed with food and medicine.

She’d tried to explain to one of the soldiers standing guard that she wasn’t from a normal house and needed more help, but he’d refused to listen and told her to join the queue. She’d tried to argue, but he had levelled his assault rifle at her and told her again to get in line. His voice through his gas mask had sounded nervous, so she’d backed off.

It had meant an hour’s wait, but she was almost
up to the desk where two more soldiers, bulky and strange in their biohazard suits, were checking people off before they got their hand-out. Two more soldiers stood nearby, with their assault rifles ready, and an armoured personnel carrier was parked so that its turret-mounted gun was aligned with the long queue of people that stretched behind Leaf. In some ways it looked like they were in enemy territory, not on a relief expedition in their own country, but then Leaf supposed the soldiers were nervous that some people would attack them because, after all, they had destroyed the hospital and irradiated the surrounding region, supposedly in order to sterilise it against further viral infection.

“Name?” asked the soldier when Leaf got to the desk. Even through the mask, she sounded kinder than the soldier Leaf had spoken to first. “How many in the family? Anyone sick?”

“My name’s Leaf, but I’m not here for my family. I’m from Friday’s private hospital three blocks away. We’ve got more than a thousand patients…and we need help.”

“Uh…a thousand patients?” asked the soldier.
Leaf couldn’t see her face behind the mask, not even her eyes, as the Army masks had tinted lenses – but she sounded shocked. “A private hospital?”

“I think it’s one thousand and seven,” said Leaf. “Mostly pretty old, so quite a few are sick. I mean, not from the radiation, or not yet, but just because they were sick to start with. Or just old.”

“Um, I’m gonna have to check up on this one,” said the soldier. “Stand over there and wait, please.”

Leaf stood to one side as the soldier flicked a switch on the side of her mask and spoke on her radio. Her mask muffled her voice, but Leaf could hear a few words.

“Private hospital…thousand or more…not listed…No, sir…map…”

Leaf missed the next few words. Then the soldier was silent, listening to a reply that Leaf couldn’t hear at all. This went on for at least a minute, then the soldier turned towards Leaf and said, “OK, Major Penhaligon is coming to see you. Wait there until he arrives.”

Major Penhaligon?
thought Leaf.
That must be Arthur’s brother, who warned him about the nuclear strike.

She looked around while she waited. East Area Hospital was still sort of visible, about two miles away, though it was only a shell with one high wall still standing. A lot of the buildings around it had also been flattened and there were still some of the sealed fire trucks plying their water cannons on smouldering wreckage. There were also thirty or more orange armoured personnel carriers with the big black
Q
for
Quarantine
on their sides, lined up along the road that went to the hospital. The closest one had its back doors open and Leaf saw it had four shelves on each side, each holding several long orange bags. It took her a moment to comprehend that these were body bags.

Leaf got a terrible sick feeling in her stomach, looking at those body bags. As far as she knew, her parents and her brother, Ed, had left the hospital in the week when she was unconscious from the Greyspot disease, but she hadn’t been able to confirm that. She’d tried to get in touch with them at home, which was several miles away and so at least a bit safer, but all communications were down.

They must be OK,
thought Leaf.
They have to be
all right. I’ve got to try not to think about them. I have a job to do.

She looked away from the body bags, but the sight of the people in the line was no more encouraging. Though she could only see their eyes, everyone looked frightened.

I’m frightened too,
thought Leaf.
Maybe we’re all going to die from the radiation. Look at the soldiers – they’re in complete protective gear with proper gas masks and everything. But then, if Arthur can’t stop the House and the entire Universe from getting destroyed, we’re all going to die anyway.

“Miss?”

A voice behind her made her turn round. Two soldiers stood there. They had no rank badges, but they did have name tags on their suits. One read PENHALIGON and the other read CHEN.

“I’m Major Penhaligon and this is Sergeant Chen,” said the shorter figure. “I understand you’re from a private hospital closer towards East Area?”

“Yes,” said Leaf. “I was kind of there by accident on Friday night. I know one of the…nurses, but there’s no other staff there and about a thousand old people—”

“We have no information on this hospital,” said the Major. “It’s not listed at all, anywhere, so this had better not be some sort of crazy—”

“It
is
there!” protested Leaf. “Come with me and I’ll show you. Then if you find out it’s not true, you can shoot me or blow me up or whatever else you’re all so good at. You’re not much good at helping people!”

A ripple of applause answered this loud speech. Leaf looked over her shoulder and saw most of the closer people in the queue were clapping, and one man was even shaking his fist in the air. A woman called out, “You tell ’em, girl! We want help, not bombs!”

“All right,” said Major Penhaligon. He clicked a switch under his chin so that his mask amplified his voice, making it loud enough for the people in the line to hear him. “We’re going to look into it. Keep in line and stay calm.”

He turned the amplification off when he spoke to Leaf. “Where is this hospital?”

“The main entrance is that way, on the corner of Grand Avenue,” said Leaf. “I’ll show you.”

“That’s on the edge of the kill zone,” said
Sergeant Chen. She was considerably taller and broader than Major Penhaligon, so until Leaf heard her voice, she’d thought it was a male soldier inside the suit. “Were you inside when the strike happened, miss?”

“Yes,” answered Leaf. “Underground, with some of the patients. But a lot of them were on the ground floor. What do you mean, the ‘kill zone’?”

“If you were underground you’ll probably be OK,” said Major Penhaligon. He hesitated, then added, “The initial burst of radiation would be lethal anywhere within five hundred metres of the target point, and if there is a hospital there it would be on the edge of that. I suppose we’d better go and take a look. Chen, you better give Miss…uh, Miss…”

“My name is Leaf,” said Leaf.

“Give Miss Leaf a shot of CBL505.”

“This is an antiradiation drug,” said Chen as she slapped an auto-injector against Leaf’s neck. She felt the sting of the needle before she could flinch away. “Same as in the take-home packs we’re giving out. Uh, sir, if we’re heading closer to ground zero we should put Miss Leaf in a suit.”

“OK,” said Major Penhaligon. “You double back
to…Decontamination Four is for female personnel, isn’t it? Get her cleaned and suited up and then call me. I’ve got to go take care of something anyway.”

“Yes, sir,” said Chen. She took Leaf by the arm and started to lead her away.

“Thanks,” said Leaf. Then, because she was wondering about Arthur and where he was, she added, “Are you related to Arthur Penhaligon, by the way?”

Major Penhaligon swung round. “He’s my little brother. Do you know him? Do you know where he is?”

“He’s a friend of mine,” said Leaf. “But I don’t know where he is.”

“When did you last see him?” asked Major Penhaligon.

“Er…sometime last week,” hedged Leaf.

“Did he mention anything strange?”

“What do you mean?” asked Leaf. She tried to keep her face from showing anything. By any definition, everything Arthur had been involved with in recent times was strange.

“Dad’s house is gone,” said Major Penhaligon. “Not destroyed. Just plain gone. I’ve tracked down
Michaeli and Eric – they’re with friends, they’re OK – but I can’t find Arthur or Emily.”

“A lot of weird stuff has happened around here,” offered Leaf.

“That’s for sure,” said Major Penhaligon. “Where did you see Arthur?”

“In the hospital,” said Leaf. She hadn’t been ready for the sudden question. “Friday’s hospital, I mean. With the old people. But he left.”

“Where was he going?”

Leaf shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“When was this?”

“Friday night. Uh, after you called him.”

“After I called him?” asked Major Penhaligon. “But I called him on the home number! He wouldn’t have had time to get anywhere near here from home and according to the neighbours the house was already gone…”

“The phone was switched through,” said Leaf, which was true. She just couldn’t say that it was switched through to a telephone that materialised out of nowhere.

“I guess that kind of explains how the house could be gone, but I still spoke to Arthur.” Major Penhaligon
shook his head. “This just gets weirder and weirder. I don’t see how there can be an entire hospital full of patients that’s not on any database or map either. I’ll see you at Decon Four in fifteen minutes, Sergeant Chen, Miss Leaf.”

He turned around and strode away. Chen pulled lightly on Leaf’s arm, directing her towards one of the side streets.

“This way,” said the soldier. “It’s not far.”

“OK,” said Leaf. She was quiet for the first few steps, just thinking about Arthur, and her family, and all the sleepers back at the hospital. There was so much to do. For a moment she wondered why she was bothering, since it seemed the whole Universe might get snuffed out by Nothing anyway.

But the Universe might not end,
Leaf thought.
And then where would you be? Better to do something, because it might just work out.

“What other weird stuff is happening?” she asked Chen.

“Plenty,” the soldier replied, but she didn’t elaborate. They walked another twenty yards or so, around the next street corner. Leaf saw that the whole avenue ahead was full of dozens of Army and Federal
Biocontrol Authority vehicles. The car parks for the shops and buildings on either side of the avenue were occupied by five huge pressurised tents, soon to be joined by three entire prefab structures the size of Leaf’s house, which were in the process of being off-loaded from oversize semitrailers.

Ominously, the prefab buildings had large red crosses on them, and Leaf noted that beyond the Army vehicles, there were at least twenty big, six-wheeled hazardous environment ambulances.

Everyone working wore full protective suits with masks. The whole place added up to an expectation by the authorities that they would have to deal with a very large number of dead and dying people. Chen pointed to the closest pressurised tent, which was pitched in a supermarket car park. The tent had a newly painted sign in front of it, staked into the pavement. The sign had a cartoon picture of a smiling fat man scrubbing himself in a bubble bath, and read: 11
TH CBRN BATTALION PRESENTS DECONTAMINATION STATION FOUR
.