Spiral (20 page)

Parry cleared his throat uncomfortably. Exchanging a glance with Old Wilkie, he went over to Stephanie. “I think the time has come for you and me to have a proper chat.”

Stephanie didn’t respond with any of her usual shrill exuberance, but instead nodded meekly. Chester felt a surge of sympathy for the girl — it was obvious that she hadn’t yet been told quite how serious the situation was.

“And the rest of you check in with Sergeant Finch about your rooms,” Parry said. “At least you’ll be comfortable here — the sleeping quarters in the level below aren’t far off a five-star hotel.”

WILL HAD NEVER
seen Drake look so worried, as he drew his gaze up to Eddie’s face and then spoke. “Tell me something,” he said. “How do you know for certain that this so-called Phase is really taking place? Have any of your men seen it with their own eyes? And where’s it going on?” he asked in quick succession.

“Oh, it’s going on all right, but we don’t know where,” Eddie replied. “If you’re a Styx, it’s the most powerful force you ever encounter. . . . You can sense it with every single cell in your body. All my men can. We’ve known it was on the way for a while. And the Styx women, wherever they are, will have felt it long before us. The urge is far more powerful in them. It’s the irresistible and overwhelming summons to reproduce. It’s . . .” — Eddie paused as he chose the right way to express himself — “it’s as though a clarion call is transmitted through the air . . . a chemical trigger.”

“Pheromones,” Drake suggested, drawing in a breath.

Eddie appeared to be so deep in thought that he hadn’t heard. “The trigger instigates . . . coordinates . . . the Phase, whether anybody wants it or not. Our women transform into something different, something terrifying. And what they unleash — the Warrior Class — wipes the board clean of any species that aren’t regarded as food stocks.
Out with the old
.”

“Us included?” Drake said.

“Yes, any life-form that poses even the remotest threat to Styx dominance will be eradicated. That means open season on all humans.” Catching a movement outside the Humvee, Eddie noticed a red squirrel as it shinnied down a tree trunk. He pointed at it. “In the same way that species was once the dominant one, before the gray variety pushed it out.”

“But this Warrior Class you’re talking about — they’re still only physical. Even if they’re some kind of mega-Limiter, well-armed Topsoilers could stop them, couldn’t they?” Drake asked. “Particularly if we get ourselves organized.”

“That’s a monumentally big
if
. They thrive on chaos. They
are
chaos,” Eddie said. “And if you engage them, and somehow manage to gain the upper hand, there’s the possibility of a second stage.”

“I don’t think I want to hear this,” Drake groaned as Eddie hunted for a page in the
Book of Proliferation
, then held it up.

“What the heck are those?” Will asked.

The woodcut illustration occupied a full page but was divided into three boxes, which showed the sky, the land, and, at the bottom, an area of water covered in spume and waves, which was probably meant to suggest the sea. And in each of the boxes were inexplicable creatures. Other than the deadly teeth and claws, the only aspect the creatures had in common was that the artist had attempted to show they were transparent or semitransparent. Apart from this, each creature seemed to be adapted for its environment, the uppermost one with two sets of batlike wings, the middle one with three pairs of legs, and the aquatic one with fins.

“If all else fails, the success of the Phase is guaranteed by this,” Eddie said. “This is the backstop . . . this is the ‘
Armagi
.’ ”

“The Armagi?” Drake repeated carefully.

“It’s the basis for the word ‘
Armageddon
,’ which has nothing to do with a place where some mythical final battle is going to take place, as many faiths would have you believe. But it is sort of the end . . . the end of the humans’ time on Earth,” Eddie said.

“
Sort of?
” Will repeated, almost wanting to laugh because he couldn’t cope with what he was hearing.

“According to our legends, the Armagi are continually adapting organisms, capable of regenerating an entirely new body from even a tiny piece of tissue. You take one apart, and you give rise to a legion. In scientific terms you could describe them as entire clusters of neoblasts, with the gift of being able to differentiate into whatever configuration of genocide machine is required at the particular time.” Eddie closed the book with some force. “So even if you manage to get to the end of the first act — the Warrior Class — the second act will bring the house down. Without knowing it, Vlad the Impaler’s knights forestalled the Armagi because they cremated every single living cell when they torched the catacombs.”

“So we catch the Warrior Class before they’re able to disperse. And we use fire, too,” Drake reasoned. “We cremate everything — the Warriors and the Styx women.”

Will spoke up. “I know you might not think it’s as important as all this, but can I ask something?”

Eddie gave him a nod.

“Is this why the Rebeccas have so much power over the Styx?” Will said.

“All our women possess an ascendancy over male Styx, but the Rebecca twins are from our ruling family.”

“Right . . . and . . . um . . . ,” Will began but seemed uncomfortable with what he wanted to say next.

“Go on,” Drake encouraged him.

“Well . . . where does all this leave Elliott?” the boy asked.

Eddie looked blankly at him. “Where does it leave her? I honestly don’t know. Of course, she’s what the Colonists uncharitably call a Drain Baby since she’s a part-human, part-Styx hybrid. But which genotype is the dominant, I couldn’t tell you. All I can tell you is that she must be kept in isolation if the Phase is affecting her in any way. She’ll be a danger to anyone around her.”

Will swallowed nervously. “Right,” he said, wishing he hadn’t asked.

Sweeney was still guarding the Limiters when Will returned to the ford. The soldiers were all standing in precisely the same spot, and only Mrs. Rawls had moved. She was sitting on the bank with her legs drawn up.

“So the powwow’s over. What’s the skinny?” Sweeney asked.

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” Will replied.

Sweeney touched the grid just in front of his ear. “Actually I caught most of it. Crazy stuff.”

“You did?” Will said, glancing over his shoulder as he estimated how far away the Humvee was. “But it must be . . . what . . . a hundred feet?”

“Piece of cake.” Sweeney grinned.

As Will turned back, he was suddenly aware that eight pairs of Limiter eyes were on him. Now he knew what they knew. He coughed uneasily. “So you heard Drake wants to get going right away — and we’re taking Eddie along with us in one of his Humvees,” he said to Sweeney.

Sweeney jutted his chin at the line of Limiters. “Sure, but what do we do with this sorry bunch?”

“We let them go,” Will said.

“So they’re our pals now?” The big man smiled.

“S’pose so,” Will replied, as he turned to address the Limiters. “Eddie wants you to go to London and wait there for his orders. He said you should take the jeep and the other Humv . . .” As he peered down the track at the second vehicle, he could make out the Hunter’s body on the hood. His mind suddenly went empty.

“You were saying,” Sweeney prompted gently.

“Bartleby” was all the boy could manage as he gave Sweeney a helpless look.

Sweeney nodded, then addressed the Limiters, “Listen up, all you Sticky Boys. You’re going to do the decent thing and give the laddie’s cat a burial. I want a proper hole dug — no skimping. You owe him that.” Sweeney caught Will’s eye. “OK?”

Will nodded gratefully.

Sweeney stuck a thumb in Mrs. Rawls’s direction. “And what about the filly?”

Mrs. Rawls opened her mouth to object at being referred to in this way. She evidently thought better of it and resorted to giving Sweeney a murderous look.

“Mrs. Rawls is coming with us,” Will said, then went off to collect his Bergen from the jeep, as well as a couple of holdalls Drake had left behind.

Once he’d returned, Sweeney reached out an arm. “Let me take the weight off,” he said, hooking the Bergen and holdalls with his fingers and hoisting them from Will as if they contained nothing more than feathers. “And you can have your peashooter back,” he added, passing the weapon over. Although Sweeney didn’t have a gun on Mrs. Rawls any longer, Will noticed that he was careful to keep close to her as they walked.

“Will,” Mrs. Rawls said, “now all the macho posturing is over, I want to know about my family. No one’s told me a thing about Jeff and Chester, but I’m assuming they’re both somewhere safe? Is that right?”

“They certainly should be,” Will assured her. “And we’ll be joining them soon.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Rawls said, looking relieved.

But the moment they arrived at the Humvee, Drake took one of the holdalls from Sweeney and approached Mrs. Rawls.

“Emily, I can either continue to treat you as a potential hostile and keep you under restraint. Or I can give you a clean bill of health by making sure you’re not Darklit. It’s your call.”

Mrs. Rawls inclined her head toward Will and gave him a smile. “I was wrong about the macho posturing. He’s at it again.” Then she turned to Drake. “I don’t want to be in handcuffs when I see my family,” she said. “Do what you have to.”

Drake delved into the holdall and extracted a small device. It appeared to be a pair of glasses connected by a cable to a small cylinder.

“Did Danforth make that?” Will asked.

“Yes, the new improved Pocket Purger,” Drake replied. “I know I’ve said it a million times, but the man’s a genius.”

“Certainly is,” Sweeney said. “He offered to give my bonce an overhaul once, as if I was his blessed Moggy Minor.”

“Well, he certainly miniaturized the original Purger,” Will observed.

Drake nodded. “Will, I need you first.” He held the cylinder in front of the boy’s face.

“Me? What for?” Will asked warily.

“Just keep your eyes open and watch the birdie,” Drake replied. He depressed a button on the cylinder, and an intense purple beam shone straight into Will’s pupils.

Will immediately recognized the color; it was identical to that of a Dark Light, although this time it was having absolutely no effect on him. He squinted as he stared, but only because of the brightness of the beam. “What now?” he said.

“Anything?” Drake asked. “No feelings of nausea or discomfort?”

“Nope,” Will replied.

“Good,” Drake said as he released the button, and the beam went out. “You see, you’re the control. I didn’t expect any reaction, which proves you’re squeaky clean. Now for you, Emily.” Drake held the cylinder directly in front of her and clicked the button again.

Letting out a sharp breath as if she’d been punched, her body went rigid as a plank. Sweeney used his lightning reactions to catch her before she fell.

Eddie was watching the proceedings intently. “Fascinating technology. I assume you developed it on the back of your work on my Dark Light,” he said. “But I promise you, Drake — I haven’t given Emily any programming.”