The Tower (51 page)

He spotted him up at the top of the hill, sitting in a chair in the shade of the tree and staring down at something in his lap. Shepherd carried Hevva all the way up, sweating from the effort. ‘We need to leave,’ he said.

‘Indeed,’ Kinderman replied, his eyes fixed on the screen of a laptop connected by a long wire to a portable satellite up-linker. ‘But the real question is “where?” Look.’

Shepherd moved round so he could see the screen. ‘This shows Hubble’s new orbit,’ Kinderman pointed at a graphic image of a wireframe globe with a circle round it. ‘The other image is a direct feed from Hubble itself. That’s what it’s looking at right now.’

Shepherd leaned against the trunk of the tree for support and stared at the crawling satellite image of the Earth. At the moment it was showing desert, lots of brown desert, so barren it could easily have been the surface of some distant, uninhabited planet.

‘I told you shifting Hubble out of position had a practical dimension,’ Kinderman continued. ‘Not only will Mala worldwide see it appear in Taurus tonight, it will also lead the way back to the home we all lost. Back to the origin of everything, where everything started and everything will begin again.’

‘The Mala Star,’ Shepherd whispered, remembering Kinderman’s messages to Douglas.

They watched the crawl of brown, Hevva getting heavier in his arms with every passing minute until he had to let her slip to the ground. He was exhausted and hot and a little faint after the adrenalin high of earlier. He was anxious to get away and was about to insist as much when a thin line of green appeared on the screen, getting thicker as the world turned revealing a large patch of green with tendrils snaking out across the brown earth like the roots of a huge plant.

‘There it is,’ Kinderman said, with something close to wonder. ‘Paradise found.’ He squinted at the telemetry and wrote down the terrestrial coordinates. ‘It’s southeast from here, about a thousand kilometres or so, somewhere in Iraq. Less than a day’s drive if we take turns at the wheel.’ He hit a command button and another window popped up containing the same countdown application Shepherd had downloaded from Douglas’s computer, the numbers now much lower. ‘We should just be able to make it in time.’

His fingers drummed on the keyboard as he copied links to the countdown and to the Hubble feed into a website and pressed
Publish
. He turned and smiled up at Shepherd. ‘Mala.org just went live – the modern way to follow a star. Come on, we need to get going. My jeep is right over there.’

‘I need to grab Hevva’s things from the other car.’ Shepherd stood upright and felt the world lurch. He reached out to steady himself against the trunk of the tree but missed, grazing his cheek against the bark as he fell to the ground. Something sharp jarred his ribs as he hit the ground. He reached for it with his hand and it came away wet and bloody.

Oh Jesus,
he thought as darkness claimed him,
damn woman didn’t miss after all.

Seven days after the initial inoculations, the first patient recovered.

She was a forty-three-year-old bank clerk, born and raised in Ruin, who seemed more impressed by where she now found herself than by the fact that she had just survived a disease that had wiped out a quarter of the city’s population.

The cathedral cave now contained over three hundred beds, most of which were occupied. Normally the numbers remained steady at around fifty, the new intake being roughly balanced by the death toll: but no one had died since they had begun the inoculations, the daily ritual of removing the bodies to the garden had stopped and the pyre on the firestone that had burned without pause since the very beginning had now gone out.

That same afternoon trucks and personnel drove into the city from the outside world, the first vehicles to have done so for more than half a year. They were laden with stocks of the vaccine, manufactured in readiness at industrial labs in Ankara, and a small army of volunteers who had already been inoculated.

The quarantined quarters were kept in place, to make the vaccinations easier to police and monitor. By evening every living soul in the city of Ruin was lining up, waiting patiently for the salvation they had prayed for, everyone so relieved that deliverance was finally at hand that they failed to notice the creak of ropes as, down the side of the Citadel, the ascension platform began to descend with a lone figure standing in the centre of it, watching the world rise to meet him.

The earth laughs in flowers

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Shepherd woke to the vibration and hum of an engine. He opened his eyes and found a dark-eyed angel staring down at him. Hevva’s face instantly exploded into a smile; he smiled back and noticed that the nick in her ear was hidden behind a fresh plaster and she was wearing different clothes. He was lying in the back of a jeep that was bouncing over very rough ground.

‘Hi,’ he croaked, his voice dry and raw.

‘Ah, the sleeping beauty awakes,’ Kinderman piped from the driver’s seat. ‘Just in time for our arrival.’

‘Arrival?’

‘Yes. We’re here.’

Shepherd tried to sit up and pain shot through his side. He reached down to discover thick bandages bound tightly across his chest.

‘I’d take it easy if I were you. The bullet grazed your side pretty badly. Fortunately it hit a rib, which deflected it around your body so it passed out the other side without causing too much damage. Your rib’s probably cracked, which is why it hurts so much. Pretty apt though, don’t you think, being saved by a rib, considering where we’re headed?’

Shepherd struggled upright, feeling every bounce of the jeep jarring in his side like someone was repeatedly stabbing him. Outside, the sun was hanging low in a burnt sky above a world bleached almost white; there was nothing to see but broken land and brittle earth all around them. The only sign of life at all lay directly in front of them.

And what life it was.

The green shone in the sunlight like a bright jewel, deep and green, like a chunk of rainforest that had been dropped in the middle of this nowhere. ‘How long have I been out?’

‘About twenty-four hours.’

Shepherd tried to process this fact along with the growing vision of lushness that was gradually filling the windshield. ‘You drove all the way?’

Kinderman picked up a bottle of pills and rattled it. ‘Caffeine capsules. A lorry driver gave me some at the crossing into Iraq. You missed quite a party back there. So many migrants are responding to the homing instinct now that they’ve effectively thrown open the borders.’

The jeep hit another pothole, drawing a grunt of pain from Shepherd. ‘Here,’ Hevva said, handing him a lozenge from a different bottle. ‘Place one under your tongue. It will take the pain away.’

He did as he was told. ‘She’s quite the nurse,’ Kinderman said. ‘She dressed your wound, then bandaged you up.’

Hevva shrugged. ‘I used to help Mama with her work. I don’t mind blood, I’m used to it.’

Shepherd felt the soothing numbness of the pill spreading through his body, melting away his discomfort. Kinderman spotted a track leading into the heart of the green and headed for it. Hundreds of different tyre marks converged on the spot, showing that many people had travelled this way before. There was a sign by the side of the road with an arrow painted on it pointing onwards into the heart of the jungle. The road followed the contours of the land, through groves of young palm trees and ferns that grew so thick it became harder and harder to see the way ahead.

They had been driving for almost ten minutes when they saw the first people. They were down by the bank of a river, washing clothes in the clear water, their children playing in the shallows. A cluster of tents were set up a little way back from the bank with more laundry drying on lines stretched out between them. One of the people looked up as they passed and raised an arm in greeting. Hevva waved back.

They followed the track along the side of the river, more arrows urging them forward. More buildings emerged from the green, mostly huts made from salvage, until they rounded a final bend and saw what looked like a small town, the outskirts made up of the same temporary buildings they had seen on their way in. At the heart of it were several solid-looking buildings constructed around a pool with a fountain of water at its centre.

‘It’s pretty,’ Hevva said, watching the rainbows drift down in the spray.

‘It’s paradise,’ Kinderman said, easing the jeep to a stop by the largest of the buildings. He switched the engine off and got out. Shepherd did the same, his whole body aching. He took a deep breath of the thick, perfumed air and groaned quietly as his ribs complained. There was something primordial about the place, almost womb-like with the shushing sound of the water and the moist, warm air all around them. It was so verdant and alive.

‘Welcome.’

They turned to see two figures emerging from the door of one of the main buildings. The man was tall and looked Iraqi, the woman was slight with blonde hair pulled into a ponytail and eyes as green as the backdrop. She waddled as she moved towards them, her hands bracing her back against the counterweight of her ripe belly.

Shepherd stared at her, her American accent triggering a memory. ‘You’re Liv Adamsen,’ he said.

She turned the blaze of her green eyes on him. ‘That’s right. Do I know you?’

He shook his head, slightly embarrassed that he had spoken her name out loud. ‘Your name cropped up in an investigation I was involved with. You were listed as a missing person.’

She smiled. ‘Well, I guess you found me, Mr … ?’ She held her hand out.

‘Shepherd. Joe Shepherd.’ He shook her hand. ‘This is Dr Kinderman.’

‘Bill,’ he corrected.

Liv shook his hand. ‘I’ve heard of you.’

Kinderman smiled and cocked his head to the side. ‘Then you really should get out more.’

‘And this is Hevva,’ Shepherd said.

Hevva stepped forward and held up her hand, but instead of shaking Liv’s she placed it flat on her tummy. She pressed her fingers gently in at the sides then raised her left hand and did the same on the other. Her face turned serious. ‘When’s the baby due?’ she asked in the quiet, grown-up way she had about her.

‘Not for another month.’

Hevva continued to run her hands over the dome of Liv’s belly, her frown deepening. If any other stranger had done this it would have seemed like a gross intrusion but because it was this serious, small girl, somehow it seemed OK. She finished her examination and looked up at Liv, shaking her head slowly.

‘The baby’s coming now,’ she said.

Sweat pricked his skin, the salt irritating the ritual wounds hidden beneath his shirt as warm air blew through the open taxi window.

The Novus Sanctus was tired after the flight and the heat was making him more so. But there would be no chance for sleep, there was too much to do and so little time. He checked his phone, tapping the icon to bring the countdown up on its screen. Tonight. Everything would happen tonight.

He had spent the long flight poring over the latest FBI reports, leaked to him as soon as they were updated. They didn’t tell him much he didn’t already know but the appearance of the Hubble images on the mala.org website had. They made him realize that it was too late now to make an example of Dr Kinderman. There was something happening out in the desert, something momentous that was tied in to the myths and beliefs of the old enemy, the Mala.

He had studied their legends and beliefs until he knew all their heresies. He was aware of the prophecy they clung to, predicting their return to power. It had always seemed fanciful to him before, but not any more, not now the established Church had been so discredited and the holy bastion at Ruin had fallen. They were preparing for their new beginning out in the desert, in their new Eden – the end of days. But the days of the true Church were not over yet, not while faithful servants of the true God like himself, and all the others like him, were ready to take up the sword.

The taxi pulled up in the middle of the street and he told the driver to wait. He would not be long and he had a helicopter to catch that would fly him into Iraq for the final part of his journey. He pressed one of the bells at the side of the door and waited. It was even hotter on the street and the cuts on his skin had become distinctly uncomfortable. But it would not be long before all earthly concerns were behind him and he would take his place with the martyrs at God’s right hand. He had spent his life gazing up into heaven and imagining what it would be like, and soon he would be there.

A lock sounded inside the door and it opened wide enough for a round, moon-like face to look out. Restless, bloodshot eyes surveyed the street for a few seconds then the door opened a little wider to let the Sanctus pass.

Liv’s waters broke an hour after dusk.

She was walking by the edge of the central pool, trying to cool down a little after the heat of the day when she felt a small pop followed by an incredible, breath-snatching pain. Liquid gushed down her thighs as she crumpled to the ground, ending up on all fours, trying to breathe and calling out for help between breaths.

People came running and she was helped up and towards the main building.

‘No,’ she said, feeling a sudden panic as the yawning door approached. ‘I don’t want to be inside. I want to stay out here.’

Dr Giambanco appeared. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘We’ll get you lying down and take a look at you.’

‘I don’t want to lie down.’

‘I need to examine you.’

‘Then bring a bed outside – it’s cooler out here.’

Panic continued to flutter madly in her chest. She couldn’t bear the idea of being confined, not now. There was a sail strung up for shade over a table on the beach area by the pool. ‘I want to go there,’ she said, walking stiffly towards it. She had a sudden flashback to a natural birth she’d once witnessed a lifetime ago when she was writing a story. Her panic rose a few notches higher as she recalled the screaming agony of it all.