S.O.S (17 page)

“The Drake Equation,” he explained, “is an equation that predicts life in our galaxy other than our own based on certain factors. Due to the billions of stars in our galaxy and their planets, the likelihood of life is quite probable.”

Molly began to look interested by this; he seemed to have won her round.

“So, you're suggesting that it possibly could be aliens?” Molly said cautiously.

Dev shook his head.

“No, you were right earlier, it couldn't,” he replied quickly. “I've just remembered the Fermi Paradox.”

Molly looked baffled again. “Oh God, here we go again,” she muttered.

“Essentially Molly, the paradox is that because there are billions of stars that are billions of years older than our own, other life could be far more advanced than ours. As a result they should be able to reach us and other planets with relative ease. But no convincing evidence of this exists, as there is no evidence that we've been contacted. Besides, if advanced aliens could contact us, why would they waste their time drawing symbols on church walls and the like?”

“Good point, one of your best!”

Dev looked at Molly and finally smiled. “Shall we get a
Mcflurry
?” he asked.

“That's the most sensible thing you've said all day,” Molly answered. She stood and they left the British Library for
MacDonald's
– a great exchange in Molly's mind.

*

A remote area of North Korea

Zack was waiting for the officer when he finally woke. Dawn was breaking over the barren landscape outside and the last of the night coolness was beginning to dissipate. The officer put on army fatigues, took some boiled rice out of a rice cooker in the corner of the room and turned the volume up on the state radio that was piped into both rooms. He stood and saluted as the national anthem played the day in and then he made for the door. Zack was right behind him.

A jeep was waiting outside the living quarters. Zack had to be quick. He jumped into the back whilst the officer climbed into the front and they were off. Through security, across a concreted parade ground and to the vast fenced and bunkered enclosure. Passes were shown, the jeep was let through and at the entrance to one of the buildings the officer swiped a tag and faced a camera for iris recognition. Zack hovered beside him – not too close – and suddenly they were inside. The place was cavernous, lit up with neon strips overhead. They went into a lift that took them down and Zack found himself underground and facing what looked like miles and miles of bunkered corridors. He began to feel disorientated and weakened. Up ahead he could see vast laboratories and walls of thick glass. Suddenly he bent double and found himself gripping the wall.

In the main lab the APS device was being re-tested. Dr Stamn stood next to the metre, watching for any sign that the device may have malfunctioned; that was the only explanation he could think of for the loss of dark matter. Behind a lead screen he watched as the device was set up – the same one they had given the assassin in the field. He had two of his team on the computer analysing the results.

The operator snapped down his visor and positioned the APS device in the centre of the test area.

“Switching on,” he said. He pressed the switch and the cylinder lit up. He moved back quickly to behind the shield.

“Sir? Dr Stamn?”

Stamn moved away from the meter to the computer screen.

“We have a response sir,” the technician said. “We have dark matter. It's reading it.”

“Then activate the collection,” Stamn said. “Now, quickly before we lose it again.”

There was a click. The cylinder glowed and began to vibrate.

A hundred and fifty yards away Zack felt himself pulled forward and gripped the wall even harder. He was losing his thoughts, he felt tired, weak.

“Molly,” he whispered, hanging onto a groove in the brick by his finger nails. “Don't let me go Molly...”

Zack was locked in a struggle. The strange pulling feeling was too strong; it was taking all of his fading energy to resist it. He could feel himself growing weaker and weaker as he tried desperately to fight the inescapable pull of the unknown force. The last of his strength melted before the powerful force and he experienced a moment of pure terror as he realised that he had nothing left to give. He let out a silent scream that no one could hear...

*

London

Dev paid for the ice-creams and took them over to Molly. She was sitting at a small plastic topped table in the corner of McDonalds with her eyes closed. She was gripping the edge of it, her knuckles white.

“Molly? What's up?” He put the ice-cream down and dug the spoon into his, looking for the
Smarties
. He ate a couple of mouthfuls, but Molly hadn't moved.

“Molly? You ok?” Now he was beginning to worry; Molly hadn't touched the ice-cream. But she didn't answer, she just shook her head and redoubled her efforts it seemed, for her face started to show the signs of real strain. It was painful to watch her; she seemed to be struggling with some unseen force. Dev put his hand on her arm and she was cold; icy cold.

“Molly,” he whispered urgently, “what's happened?” He leant towards her and put his arms on her shoulder. “Molly, look at me please! Tell me what's...”

Suddenly, almost as quickly as it appeared, the effort seemed to vanish, leaving Molly looking drained. She slumped down and put her head in her hands. She stayed like that for a while and finally she looked up at him, confused and bewildered by the experience.

Dev met her eye with a questioning stare. “Are you OK?”

She nodded.

“What just happened? That really freaked me out. Tell me what happened?”

“I don't know,” she said, struggling to get herself under control. Dev moved closer to comfort her, putting his arm around her and trying to steady her. She was still shaken. After a few minutes she looked up and opened her mouth to speak.

“I don't know what just happened,” she said, the strain still apparent in her voice. “I just had this blurry image of Zack in my head, blurry, but really strong – like he was calling to me so I concentrated on it and I tried to make the focus sharper but the more I tried the more effort it took.” She slumped down again, as if the mere memory of it drained her energy reserves.

“That's weird.”

She nodded.

“Even more weird, seeing as there was a
McFlurry
on the table for you.” He smiled, but Molly wasn't in the mood for humour. She felt close to tears and Dev sensed it.

“I just don't know what happened,” she said, “I really don't. I hope he's OK.”

Dev frowned. “Molly, if I am to believe what you said then Zack is dead. How can he be OK?”

At this Molly did actually give him a half smile. “I know, I'm stupid, aren't I?”

Dev leant forward and kissed the top of her head. “Yes, he said, “but I like you.”

Molly smiled fully this time. “Do you?”

“Yes. I don't buy
McFlurrys
for any old body you know.” He held the ice-cream for her. “Come on; don't let it go to waste.”

Molly took it and spooned some into her mouth. It was delicious, but somehow the pleasure had gone out of it. She knew it was silly, but she couldn't help worrying nevertheless. If Zack was in trouble then it felt as if he had just asked her to help him.

*

The assassin wiped his hands with a plain cloth, carefully wiping all the filth from his fingers and palms. He always found this part of the job calming, the wiping of his hands therapeutic, a wiping of his conscience. He took his time, as always, taking pride in his handiwork. Once his hands were spotless he pocketed the cloth, ready to dispose of in some other part of London. He looked up then at the three men sitting motionless in their chairs. No ropes had been needed to hold them there; pure terror had held them immobilised while he injected them with exactly the right amount of Sodium pentothal.

The questioning that had followed had not been a pleasant experience. The men had been reduced to cowering wrecks by the time he had finished. They'd be lucky if they could spell their own names now. Still, he'd done the police a favour he reckoned. They'd recover, but they wouldn't be much use as criminals anymore. Despite the questions however, the assassin had learned very little that he didn't know already. Although there was one interesting thing that came up; some babble about signs. That would have to be investigated and quickly too. He'd have to go back – it was unusual for him to miss anything and he didn't like to make mistakes.

He turned and left the disused building – he would leave the men to recover in their own time. They'd be found and he'd be long gone. He made his way quickly back to his hotel, on the way depositing his cloth in a bin outside someone's house, far enough away from both the scene and his hotel that no trace could be made from it. He had things to do and the sooner he got on to the trail of them the sooner he would find the right mark and destroy it.

*

A remote area of North Korea

Zack slumped against the wall and slid down it onto the floor. Just at that moment he felt his strength trickling back. Inexplicably, gradually, he felt himself growing stronger and stronger until he was able to resist the pull. He held out for an agonising moment and then the pull was entirely broken. He closed his eyes and stayed where he was for some time, unable to lift his head and see what he had so narrowly escaped.

*

London

After hours of racking his brain for an answer to the puzzle which had as yet proved unsolvable, Dev had given up. He decided that he no longer cared if there was a link; if there was then it would come to him without forcing the issue. He felt increasingly frustrated all the same – and even Molly wasn't able to shift his mood of irritation with himself.

Sighing, he sank onto the chair opposite his bed, one eye trained on the now sleeping figure of Molly on top of his duvet; her head nestled on his pillow as she snoozed. He'd wrapped a blanket around her so that she wouldn't get cold and he didn't have the heart to wake her. He turned and looked out of the window at the sky outside. The clouds moved silently; thin wisps of moisture almost invisible against the night sky. Dev took off his glasses and polished them on his jumper, replacing them as he followed the progress of the clouds, floating high above the earth. They flowed apart, and uncovered the stars one by one and he watched, fascinated.

Dev had always loved stars, his passion leading him to learn everything that there was to learn about them. He recognised the constellations as they were unveiled; Orion the Hunter, the Plough and the Crane were clear and he marvelled at them. The stars tried to tell him something, and he focused on the thread of an idea that had wormed its way into his mind. The star shapes meant something – they told a story and so did the Argo Navis. It was a ship, a carrier, a vessel.

Suddenly he knew that he had grasped the smallest corner of knowledge; a sliver of understanding. He didn't know how or why what he'd just realised was useful, but he had the strongest feeling that it was; it absolutely was! He stood up and opened the window, leaning far out to look right up at the sky. The Argo Navis...the vessel...the carrier. His sudden movements woke Molly.

“Wh-what?” she mumbled sleepily, turning over to try and crawl back down into the pit of sleep.

“I think I've found a clue Molly, I think I've figured something out!” Dev hurried over to her, barely able to keep still. Molly sat upright at that, rubbing her eyes vigorously to clear the sleep.

“Tell me,” she said, her voice, too, touched with excitement.

“The symbols are all constellations that make up a bigger constellation –the Argo Navis, the ship. The symbols are pointing to a vessel, a carrier.”

Molly's tiredness faded in an instant. ”And?”

“And they're a vessel...”

“Yes I know, you told me that. And this vessel is?”

Dev said nothing. He thought for a few moments and then he shrugged. “I don't know,” he said truthfully, “I just know that we are looking for a carrier, something that conducts – yes that's it a conductor.”

Molly pulled the blanket up to her chin and lay back down on the pillow. “Is that it?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” She shook her head and smiled. “Well, I needed to wake up cos I have to go home, so at least that was useful.”

“Meaning my idea about the vessel isn't?”

Molly stood and stretched. “No, not really,” she said, “needs more work.”

Dev felt crushed.

“Genius,” Molly said, “is one per cent inspiration and ninety nine per cent perspiration!” She collected up her bag and made her way to the door of Dev's bedroom.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked.

“Sure,” Dev said. He went to the PC and switched it on. By the time Molly had closed the door and gone down the stairs, he was lost in a website about Greek mythology.

Zack was still on the floor as a party of men approached him. He pressed himself back against the wall. There were several soldiers, a scientist in a white lab coat and one uniformed officer. They strode along the bunkered corridor, hard heels clicking on the concrete floor.

“We were certain that there was dark matter present,” Dr Stamn said. He had to walk twice as fast to keep up with the Colonel. “It registered on the APS meter and then it simply disappeared. We don't know what happened...”

“I want facts,” The Colonel snapped, “not excuses.”

Zack watched them as they walked round a corner and out of sight. He let out a sigh and standing, he patted his legs and arms. To all intents and purposes he was still in the physical world or half in the physical world anyway. He didn't know what had happened but he could still see the image of Molly in his mind and he was sure that was what had saved his energy from being annihilated; clinging on to her image. Whatever it was that had threatened to overwhelm him was one hell of a force and even though he was no scientist, Zack recognised the words ‘dark matter' from what Dev had been talking about. Something here was linked to everything that was going on back at home. He didn't know what it was, but he intended to find out. Still aware of the sound of the party some way up ahead, Zack took a deep breath and hurried on after them.