Organ Music (2 page)

Willesden Forest began with row after row of pines lined up like a
corps de ballet
. Each tree had its lower branches trimmed away so that it stood poised on one grey leg, a spiky green tutu fanning out around it. Some of the blocks were signposted: EXPERIMENTAL BLOCK A 46 one block declared itself as they slid past.

‘I feel sick,' moaned Harley. David felt sorry for him, knowing as he did that Harley's toughness had always been faked. Deep down, the world frightened him. And then David thought how completely terrified he was himself, though his terror was different. He was used to being alarmed by life and everyone knew it. That was why Harley teased him.

On and on! The car sped down that straight road which must have been at least three kilometres long. The line of hills showed now and then between the trees, coming closer and closer, until at last one hill thrust out a great black elbow, nudging a crooked curve into the road. They took this curve at such speed that the whole forest seemed to tilt around them, then they swept up and over a rise, only to find themselves looking down on a glowing village – long, low buildings and streets as straight as if they had been ruled, with one building rising above the rest like a cylinder of silver. This whole built-up area was caged in by tall fences of wire mesh and steel pipes, and the road directly ahead was blocked by huge gates.

WILLESDEN EXPERIMENTAL STATION
said a notice on the gates. David felt for a second or two that the car was standing still while the words rushed towards them.

‘We're going to crash,' screamed Harley, hurling himself sideways, arms clasped over his head.

But the gates – like gates in a fairy tale – swept open, and the car, without the slightest reduction of speed, shot into the complex beyond. It turned left, then right, passing blank windows and doors.

‘It's going to be all right,' David said to Harley. ‘The car's probably programmed to come back home to the people who ... who invented it. I mean, we'll probably get in trouble, but nothing worse than that. Nothing ... ' And here he stopped, surprised at finding himself flooded by a huge relief. Just for a second or two back there he had believed he was being swept to his death. Being in trouble was nothing compared to dying.

The car slowed a little. It turned to the right. Directly in front of them was yet another steel fence, a compound contained within the main compound, and behind this second, smaller fence rose that huge, silver-white cylinder of a building they had seen earlier. It looked like a blunt spaceship, pinned to background darkness by narrow shafts of light.

Something moved. The gate to the cylindrical building was guarded. A man had suddenly appeared and was watching them as the car rolled towards him.

David felt huge relief at seeing another human being in this zone of geometric buildings. It was worth the prospect of an official telling-off, and an angry phone call to his parents; worth it to be back in the safe world where things would be in proportion once more, where someone else would know best what he should do.

The guard must have pressed a button or pulled a lever, for the gate opened. As the car slid slowly past him, David saw, briefly, a cheerful moon of a face beaming in at them. The car rolled on by. A door in the building directly ahead of them was already swinging upwards, but then, as the car slid into a slot of darkness, the door hesitated before swinging down again and closing tightly behind them. The car sighed, inching forward then coming at last to a standstill.

Immediately lights came on. They were in a square white box so neat and pure, it was hard to believe it was a mere garage. The sound of music came faintly from somewhere but, to David's great relief, there were no voices singing.

Then, as he stared around him, parallel black cracks appeared in the white wall directly in front of them and not one but two doors opened. The two black spaces in the white wall seemed to issue opposing orders. ‘Go through me!' each door seemed to be commanding.

As Harley flung the driver's door wide, that music came roaring in, twisting around them in ropes of sound.

‘I'm not getting out,' said David.

Harley immediately shut himself in again, but he could not shut the music out. ‘Oh, come on!' he begged. ‘What are you scared of?'

‘Electronic ghosts,' David muttered. ‘What if the security system vaporizes us?'

‘You said they do forestry research here,' said Harley uneasily. ‘That's trees, right? They won't be worrying about tree security with us. What's the bet they'll just tell us off, and then drive us back onto the motorway and turn us loose?'

David was amazed at Harley's optimism.

‘You're unreal,' he said wearily. ‘I mean – think of this car. It's not just an average old taxi, is it? It's weird. The whole place is weird. Let's ... let's just ... just make some sort of a
plan
, and then maybe we can ... '

His voice trailed away and they both flopped back in their seats, studying those black doorways in front of them. As they stared blankly ahead, a figure appeared in the left-hand doorway.

One moment the doorway had been dark and empty. The next, someone was there, looking back at them. In spite of the shadows they could see her in totally unexpected detail: a girl older than they were – sixteen or seventeen, perhaps – a little hunched, hugging around her (as if her pockets were full of treasures) a disintegrating leather jacket that fell almost to her knees. Her hair, dyed bright red, was cropped close to her skull. Big, dark glasses with metal rims hid most of her face, but they could see three rings in her right ear and one in her left nostril. She was certainly not the kind of person you would expect to find in a forestry research establishment.

The boys stared at her, and she stared at them. Then she must have stepped back as quickly as she had stepped forward. Without giving any impression of moving, somehow she just wasn't there any more.

‘Hey!' said Harley. ‘Some chick!'

Obviously the sight of this girl had lifted his spirits a little, and he was trying to play it cool again.

‘Okay,' said David, giving in. ‘Let's face the music.'

‘What music?' asked Harley. ‘Mozart?'

‘Oh, ha ha!' said David. ‘There's bound to be some trouble, isn't there? I mean we did sort of
steal
this car.'

‘It stole us!' Harley sounded almost pious. ‘And, anyhow, anyone who leaves a car with the keys in it is
asking
to get it lifted.'

Harley's words bothered David. It was true. The car had almost been begging for theft and misuse.

And, as he thought this, someone tapped on the car window.

Harley let out a small, shrill, rodent cry. David didn't blame him for shrieking. He would have shrieked himself if his throat had not been paralysed by a new shock of terror. The sudden knock had sounded three inches from his ear. Turning, he looked into the beaming moon-face of the guard who had waved them through the gate. He must have come through some unseen door, and now he was peering in at them, still smiling.

Scrambling out of the car, David on one side, Harley on the other, they crouched slightly, ready for anything, even attack. The man, though, looked entirely friendly. The air around them still rang with piped music, but it seemed quieter than it had been when Harley had first opened the car door. Half listening, David realized it was now classical music of some kind.

‘Great run!' the man said, patting the car affectionately. ‘Nice to meet you at last, though I feel I know you already. I've been monitoring your approach. My name's Finney – Winston Finney. Winnie Finney, they call me. So how did you enjoy your million-dollar ride?'

‘Amazing,' said David. At least he tried to say it. He felt his lips moving but no sound struggled out from between them.

‘Wicked!' croaked Harley, valiantly trying to be cool.

‘I, personally, took it through its imprinting run,' said Winnie Finney fondly. He patted the car's battered flank again. ‘And I tuned and set up the guiding beacons. Well, though we call them beacons, they're so small no one knows they're there. Not to mention the latest Japanese technology in the distance sensors, and in those bumpers. Touch-sensitive, even at speed. But I mustn't blind you with science. Let's concentrate on getting you two hooligans sorted out. This way!'

David and Harley grinned foolishly at each other as they followed him through the right-hand door. Their reception wasn't nearly as fierce as they had imagined it might be.

Just inside the door a huge figure stood, seemingly waiting to greet them. David's heart, already pounding, gave a sharp leap and he made what sounded like a cry of terror.

‘It's only a statue,' said Harley, ‘of someone about to bowl a ball.'

‘Atlas with the world in his hand,' Winnie Finney told them, looking back over his shoulder. ‘Come on! You can admire it later.'

He led them past the statue and, entering an elevator, he pressed a button. David craned to watch, determined to know which floor they were being taken to. But these buttons had no numbers, and it was impossible to tell how fast or how far they were going. All he could be sure of was that they were shooting down.

‘Long way?' he asked.

‘Oh, yes,' said Winnie Finney. ‘There's much, much more to this place than meets the eye, you know.'

The lift stopped and the door slid sideways. White corridors curved away to either side of them.

‘I'm afraid you won't be able to go home straight away,' Winnie Finney said. ‘But never mind! I'll take you to a place where you can have a cup of coffee and put your feet up.'

‘Will I be able to ring my mother?' asked David, remembering that she would be waiting up for him, drinking coffee and trying not to worry, yet growing unhappier with every moment.

Though Winnie Finney patted his shoulder and spoke in a comfortable voice, he did not actually answer David's question.

‘Only the most important people ever get down to the level we're making for,' he said. ‘You're being treated like celebrities.'

He pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out something that looked to David like a gun. However, there was no report when Winnie Finney pressed the trigger, merely the sound of a lock unlocking itself. Yet another door swung open.

‘Quickly!' Winnie Finney pushed Harley and David ahead of him, his long arms held out to either side in case either of them should decide to break away and run for it.

‘Sorry to hurry you, but an alarm goes off if that particular door doesn't close within the minute,' Winnie Finney told them. ‘Security!' he added as if that explained everything.

They passed along a narrow, bright passage and came out into a second corridor, painted in pale blue and curving rather more tightly than the one they had just left. Half a dozen people were moving rapidly towards them from the right, led by a man and a woman both wearing pale blue overalls and jackets. Behind this pair walked three elegantly dressed people, one of whom was propelling what seemed to be an electronic wheelchair flashing coloured lights at them, in which sat a bony old man wearing something like an oxygen mask. It was an unexpected sight, even in this place. Winnie Finney seemed surprised by it, too. He exclaimed to himself, then flung out one arm imperiously.

‘Stand back! Let these people pass,' he said softly, but sharply.

‘We'll make everything as comfortable for you as we possibly can, Mr Yee,' the woman in blue overalls was saying as they advanced. One of the three people answered in a language David did not understand. He seemed to be translating the woman's words aloud, perhaps to the man in the wheelchair. None of them glanced at Winnie Finney and the boys as they swept on by.

‘We specialize,' said Winnie Finney, once the group had retreated around the curve of the corridor, ‘in developing aids of various kinds for people who have suffered accidents – who can't get around as easily as you or I do. Now then! This way. You both look rather disreputable, but never mind. You'll have a chance to tidy yourselves before you meet Dr Fabrice.'

‘Dr who?' asked Harley.

‘Oh no! Not Dr Who,' said Winnie Finney beaming as if Harley had made a good joke on purpose. ‘Fabrice! A very talented man. Highly thought of in intellectual circles.'

‘Really, we just want to go home,' said David as politely as he could. ‘And I want to ring my mother.'

But Winnie Finney was pointing his opener at a door which obediently swung open. Skipping to one side, he gestured them in.

‘If you just wait here,' he said, ‘I'll have someone with you in two shakes of a lamb's tail. You'll probably have to take a few tests and fill out some forms. Security!'

‘We aren't security risks,' said Harley quickly.

‘Ah, but you aren't particularly reliable, are you?' said Winnie Finney. ‘You can't be, or you wouldn't be here in the first place.'

‘We're sorry,' said David. ‘It was a big mistake. Can't we just ...'

‘The difficulty about a place like this is that we have to be so very security conscious,' Winnie Finney interrupted him, still beaming. ‘Dr Fabrice will be with you as soon as possible.'

The last thing David saw of him, before the door clicked shut, was a cheerfully winking eye. The music faded, but did not altogether disappear. It continued to sound like the voice of an alien insect caught in the mazes of his ear.

David and Harley were now in a pale blue room with tightly shut blue doors in three of its walls. Four chairs, upholstered in blue linen, were placed precisely around a low, glass table spread with magazines in various languages. In one corner of the room stood a television set which looked far too ponderous to show anything as light-hearted as soap operas or cartoons. In the opposite corner was a bench which supported a water dispenser with a plastic tap, and a coffee machine with paper cups beside it. David suddenly became aware of how thirsty he was. He went over to get himself a drink. Harley, though, leaped to test first one door, then another.

‘None of them have got
handles
,' he said incredulously. ‘We can't get out.'

‘Did you think they'd let you wander around?' asked a voice – a girl's voice.

And there she was – the girl they'd seen in the garage doorway. It was hard to be sure of anything in a place like this, but David was sure she had not been in the room when they first came into it.