The Terminus (4 page)

“I suppose
they’ll go to any lengths to prevent me, or any of us, from reaching the
Terminus. In their way of thinking, if God returns, he’ll only do so with s–…”

He stopped
abruptly and stared at Blinker in the same way as he had at Gary in a future
now unfolding so differently. He seemed to be looking for a response on the
other boy’s face. Nothing! Gary could see these people relied hugely on the
expressions of others. Beetie’s face had already told him things beyond
anything he could put into words, yet sometimes she switched off all
expression, like the surfacers above and as Blinker was now doing.

“Eat up,
Gary!” insisted Arthry. “You must be starving!”

Gary managed a
weak smile as he bravely chewed on the meat. Though the taste wasn’t bad, the
thought of its origin slowed him down. He tried to imagine it was the dried
beef jerky he’d tried out in Florida when his family visited Disneyworld three
years back.

He remembered
how boring the holiday had been, and how fed up he got with his moaning little
sister, Cathy, before her accident. He’d been big time into ‘anti-girl’, but
some pretty drastic things had happened during the previous two years: he’d got
taller, his voice had broken, hair had sprouted in previously hairless places,
and, most of all, he couldn’t take his eyes off Emma Pearson in class. Now,
having met Beetie, he wouldn’t think about giving Emma a second glance. As for
sharing a cell with the girl…
oh wow
... his legs turned to jelly as he
visualised themselves alone together all night long! He crossed them, trapping
the swelling firmness in that important piece of anatomy that responded to
pretty girls.

“A drink?”
Arthry asked when it was painfully obvious the lump of meat going round in
Gary’s mouth was getting no closer to its final destination. He pointed to the
rectangular glasses of murky fluid. Gary reached for one, trying to ignore the
brown floating flecks. After a couple of gagging gulps, he tried once more to
swallow the meat. The liquid tasted strangely sweet.

“Treated
sewer-juice,” Arthry explained proudly, grinning.

Gary
spluttered out a brown mouthful onto his lap and wiped his sleeve across his
lips. He looked with horror at the glass in his hand.

“Er…
treated
?”

Arthry
laughed.

“Don’t you
treat yours in the past?” he asked.

“Never...
um... had the stuff before,” replied Gary, longing for a refreshing glass of
Coke. Nevertheless, thirst was beginning to overwhelm him and, not wishing to
appear a wimp in front of Beetie, he overcame his disgust, sipped the ‘juice’
and began picking again at the dried rat meat.

Once finished,
Arthry turned to Beetie.

“Show him to
your cell,” he told her. “Find out what he needs. Blinker can store his things
here whilst Gary’s with us.”

Of course, the
real reason behind him and Beetie being put together was for Arthry to keep
Blinker within his sights. Gary wondered how long he’d be staying in the
future… and whether he should begin to worry about his parents’ worrying… but
the past had already happened. He decided that his parents, Mike and Regent’s
Park would have to wait because of Beetie. Forget soccer practice! Anyway, he
was only tolerated in the team because Mike had put in a good word.

He followed
the girl out of Arthry’s office and along another corridor lined by doors.
Beetie halted outside one of these.

“
Our
private
place now,” she whispered, opening the door with a card key. “I’ll ask Arthry
to get Blinker’s key back. Wouldn’t do for him to come creeping into our cell
when we’re asleep, ay?”

Gary’s face
felt on fire. Beetie’s closeness and the thought of them sharing the night
holed up in a tiny room was playing havoc with that increasingly focussed piece
of his body. He prayed the tenting of his jeans didn’t show in the dim light.

The cell
seemed little more than a prison... at least, how he imagined one to be. Two
bunk beds along each of the longer walls, with shelves and a cabinet at the far
end.

“Your bed!”
Beetie announced, pointing to one of the bunks. “Sit down. We’ve a lot to
discuss. There’s so much you must tell me about God.”

She sat on the
other bed and grinned happily. Her proximity made him so shaky that to sit down
was his only option. But separate beds? How would he survive the night without
going completely crazy with desire? He smiled back, guiltily nurturing lustful
thoughts.

“Must be
honest,” he said. “I’ve never met God. Haven’t a clue what he’s like. In fact,
I…”

“I understand,”
interrupted Beetie, leaning forwards and gently placing her warm hand over his.
“So does Arthry. He was wondering how you’d react… testing you. We all know God
shows himself to very few people apart from Arthry.”

He looked down
at that small hand, at those delicate fingers. How could a girl like this have
been fed rat meat all her life?

“And?”

“Don’t worry!
You passed the test!”

She glanced at
the cupboard.

“As for
Blinker, I’ll take his stuff to Arthry. You can use his side for your things.
I’ll get you a green suit and Arthry can give you a fake number. G… whatever.”

“Beetie…”

“Yeah?”

“Beetie, I
honestly haven’t a clue why I’m here.” He shuddered to think about that other
time when the girl got knifed. “Was on my way to soccer practice... kicking
a ball around and into a big net called a goal... pretty naff, ay... spotted
these specs lying on a bench in the park... tried them on and… hey presto!...
I’m here… in the future… under the sea.”

Beetie
withdrew her hand and stiffened.

“What about
God? I know you’ve not met him, but how come...?”

“Beetie, I
must tell you something. This is my second visit. Things went all pear-shaped
the first time, and… well, you got badly hurt. Because of Blinker. He tried to
make Arthry believe
I’m
the spy. He and two others want the time-specs
for themselves.”

“They’re
useless without God. But Gary, you still haven’t answered my question.”

“I heard about
God the last time. At first I reckoned it some sort of a joke, this God
business, ’cos where I come from – in the past – God’s all to do with
religion.”

“Relig
–…what?” Beetie’s questioning, pretty blue eyes widened.

“Religion.
God’s like… well, He’s just sort of there, out of sight. Not a person at all.”

Beetie
laughed. Such a lovely laugh!

“You’re so
funny, Gary. Out of sight? Not a person? Who
is
He?”

“Not sure, to
tell the truth! More of an
idea
, I suppose. A concept? Spirit?
Everything?”

The girl’s
smile broadened.

“You’re acting
weird… but I do like you. So does Arthry. I can tell.”

“Beetie... is
Blinker… er... your… um…?”

“Yes? My
what?” asked Beetie, still smiling.

“You know…
your… um… well, kind of… like sharing a cell and all that. You know! Are you…
erm... thingummies?”

“Thingummies?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I might
be able to answer if I had the faintest idea what a thingummy is. We’re brother
and sister.”

“Not
thingummies?” Beetie shrugged her shoulders. “Separate beds? Like... always?
Never
in the same bed?”

Beetie’s smile
left her. Gary worried he’d gone too far, but to use the word ‘lovers’ seemed
too painful.

“Always hated
him,” she replied, looking down at her feet. “Ever since we left the Hatcheries
together. It’s so wonderful you’re here now! Please stay as long as possible
and keep the creep away from me.”

“No others,
then? No boyfriends?”

“Boyfriends?
What are
they
?”

“Never mind!
S’pose I’m caught up in this now. I need to…”

“Did you come
back just because of me?” the girl asked out of the blue. Gary’s face went hot
again. He nodded. “Thank you,” she said, resting her hand on his again. Once
more and he’d kiss her!

“Tell me about
the Retreat, the Hatcheries and the Terminus. And who
is
Arthry? I mean,
does he run this place? And what about The Agenda? Okay, they control things up
there… and… well, the police give out food and stuff... but for me this is the oddest
place imaginable. It’s still
London
, though. Where I live… in the past!”

“You come from
before the flood, right?”

“Yeah! Got
global warming, like, and the sea level’s starting to rise… but London
submerged? No way!”

“Arthry told
me all about the flood. He passes on what God tells
him
.”

“So?”

“God was an
important guy in the past. Arthry said he used to be something called a
scientist.”

“Okay! Makes
sense so far.”

“He found out
the city was doomed, designed the defences against the rising sea level… then
discovered SAME. Self-Adjusting-Molecular-Expansion. Really can’t understand it
myself. Apparently to do with drawing energy from the surrounding space and
using this to create molecules and make materials expand at an amazing rate.
Sorry, I’m a bit of an idiot!”

“No you’re
not!” insisted Gary, fascinated by Beetie’s attempt to explain something way
beyond her comprehension… and his. One day he’d find out and enlighten the
girl.

“Anyway,”
continued Beetie, “by using this, the defences around London shot right up to
the sky. Like the walls built themselves. See, God had discovered a huge lump
of rock heading for earth... something called an asteroid. He got them to
quickly close the defences over the top of London and start up the APUS –
Air-Purification-System. Arthry told me most other cities on earth had died
from the heat of the sun and the Great Pandemic even before the rock hit the
sea. God had already invented a way of keeping London
cool and separated from the rest of the planet. Shortly after the flood, they
decided to begin all over again. The leaders had an ‘agenda’ to save the human
race and ended up calling themselves ‘
The
Agenda’. God was their top
guy. Apparently he had a different name before, but ‘God’ seemed simpler. Besides,
everyone was already calling him God, and...”

“You’re
beginning to make sense!” interrupted Gary.

“Things seemed
fine for a while… but then it all got a bit muddled. Disagreements. God fell
out with his friends in The Agenda.”

“As
politicians do!”

“Being one of
those scientist people, he was always busy inventing things in that... um...
laborrowa… er…”

“Laboratory?”
suggested Gary.

“Something
like
that. In the Terminus. The place where he just appeared
one day wearing the time-specs, saying he used to work there long before the
flood. He never said how or why he invented the specs. Apparently people
complained that God didn’t exist before he arrived. Funny, ay? Can’t think what
they meant! Anyway, he changed everything and began top secret stuff in the
Terminus beyond the Hatcheries. After getting kicked out of The Agenda, he
founded the Retreat for his band of faithful followers. Us lot! We’ve all sworn
to find out what’s going on in the Terminus… though he still refuses to say
what he’d started there. Only that they stole his ideas to use for something
unbelievably bad. He must be a strange man, don’t you think? Oh, and the
Hatcheries… according to God, in
his
time as boss, test-tube babies were
brought into the world and looked after in the Hatcheries. Until The Agenda
took over and did those things none of us remembers. Blinker and I must have
been the last to come out with our brains...” Beetie paused, upset. “Our brains
cleaned,” she continued. “Never used to happen in God’s time, Arthry said.”

“Gross!”

“The gee-rats
would’ve been tiny before God modified them as a source of food for the
starving population.”

“Just ordinary
rats then, I guess,” suggested Gary.
“Finger in every bloody scientific pie, this God bugger!
’Scuse my French!”

“Uh?”
Beetie face betrayed her puzzlement.

“Just an
expression… from the past,” explained Gary.
“You’ll get used to my ancient speech!”

“I like the
way you speak!
Every
thing else about you, too!”

Everything?
Oh God help me,
thought Gary, firmly
pressing his legs together.

“Anyway, if
the rats hadn’t got bigger we’d not have much to eat. Only the veg-eatables
from The Belt!”

“Veg-eatables?
The Belt?”

Beetie laughed
again. Gary adored her laugh.
So fresh, so genuine... so innocent.

“Not heard of
The Belt? What a strange place the Old London must be! Used to be green once, I
think.”

“The
Green
Belt? Yeah! Rings a bell all right. So you lot grow vegetables – veg-
eat
ables
– there?”

“That’s the
job of the police. Gee-rat killing as well. No one else is allowed to touch the
gee-rats, but…” Beetie appeared pensive. “But we thought them clueless about
what goes on down here till I began to suspect we had a spy in our midst.”

“Veg-eatables…
and water... how d’you get hold of these for the Retreat?”

“The
Collectors.”

“Collectors?”

“From when God ruled
London
.
Collected information for God if things
didn’t go to plan.
Now
they get food and other important items as
well. No one asks how, so if anyone’s captured they can’t give away
information.”

“And water?”
The taste of the revolting sweet liquid he’d forced himself to drink lingered
in his mouth.

“God again!
Things were in a terrible state just after the flood…
long
before I was
made in the Hatcheries. People died young and he blamed the water. He set up
the WTP – the Water-Treatment-Plant – at a secret location in the sewers.
Treated sewer-juice is
so
delicious, don’t you think?”