The Chaos Code (24 page)

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Authors: Justin Richards

BOOK: The Chaos Code
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‘But it's ridiculous,' Katherine said.

Matt nodded in agreement. ‘I can light a fire, just as anyone can. I can control it, to an extent, feed it stuff to burn. But that isn't what you mean, is it?'

‘No,' Robin said. ‘It isn't. We're talking about fashioning the elements into forms we determine, organising them to do what we will.'

‘Like remote control?' Matt said.

‘If you like,' Dad told him. ‘That was how the ancient world worked in many ways. Everything was a proxy for something else, a representation. The Nazca Lines not so far away from here are an ancient map of the stars, a grid. The locations of the lines on the earth are dependent upon the positions of the stars above. The pyramids were a copy of the stars the Egyptians saw in the heavens.'

‘But they didn't change and manipulate the stars in the heavens,' Matt pointed out.

‘They believed they could,' Dad said. ‘Everything on earth had a heavenly counterpart and vice versa. The Maya, who lived here, reckoned the very end of the world was predicted in the skies. Their Feathered Serpent was a beast made of the air itself. OK, so maybe they couldn't influence the stars, but think of Egyptian ushabti figures – little dolls that represented real people and went on the journey to the afterlife for them. People in other cultures had worry dolls that they could transfer their problems to.'

‘That's like voodoo,' Matt said. ‘You can't tell me it really works.'

‘All right, think about voodoo if you like,' Dad said. ‘You make a representation of a person, a real person.

A voodoo doll, and what you do to the representation happens to the real person even if they're miles away.'

‘Which is obviously impossible,' Katherine said.

‘You think so?' Matt's dad replied quietly. ‘I know you've got some scientific training. Have you ever heard of quantum entanglement?'

‘Of course. Einstein called it “spooky action over a distance.” But I don't see that …' Katherine's voice trailed off and the colour seemed to drain from her face so that it was almost as pale as her hair. ‘You can't be serious,' she whispered.

A click on a control added people to the model. The wire-frame representation of the pyramid was suddenly speckled with dots – each one of them a person in the real world. They moved and interacted and went about their business.

Harper was typing into a search field at the bottom of the screen. ‘You can't escape, my friends,' he murmured.

Venture, still held by two guards, watched impassively. Klein was standing close by, waiting for orders.

The image spun and changed – zooming in as the system found what Harper had asked for. It panned down beneath the pyramid, into the amphitheatre, across the terraces and towards an open area off to one side.

Four dots became vague shapes, became outlines of people. Two male, two female. Two sitting, two standing …

‘Got you!' Harper said. His hand reached again for the mouse.

‘I'll go and fetch them,' Klein said, turning to leave.

‘Oh I'm sure that won't be necessary,' Harper told him with satisfaction. ‘I think it's time our young friends had a practical demonstration of my abilities.' He glanced up at Venture. ‘Don't you?'

‘What are you talking about?' Matt demanded. He looked at Robin, and saw that she seemed as grave as his father.

‘Basically,' Dad said, ‘quantum entanglement is a process that allows scientists to tie together molecules, so that what happens to one molecule happens to the others linked to it. They say the molecules are entangled.'

‘And they can be many miles apart, it still works,' Robin said. ‘You think that's how Harper is working things? How he has managed to get control?' she asked Matt's Dad.

‘Possibly, I'm not an expert. I'm not sure how it works, just that it does. He creates models on his laptop – computer models, representations of the things in the real world. Those things are made from earth, air, fire or water. Or a combination of them. And Harper has somehow “entangled” his computer models with the real world. He manipulates the model and the real things respond.'

Matt's mouth dropped open. ‘
Computer
models,' he said. ‘We've seen them.'

‘And you probably understand them rather better than I do,' Dad told him. ‘But there has to be some grounding in the real world. In voodoo it's a lock of hair or a bit of fingernail that provides the link, the
entanglement
, between the doll and the real person.'

‘Like DNA matching,' Robin said quietly. ‘You'd need a unique pattern to identify the target – to be able to link the right model to the specific person. Harper's models do the same, but by being exactly to scale in every dimension. So accurate they are unique and specific with no ambiguity. So far Harper's able to manipulate relatively small things, like grains of sand and candle flames. But what he really wants to do is to create a model to control the whole world. The universe, run like program code on a computer.'

Matt held his hands up. ‘OK, OK. Never mind how he does it, I'll accept that he does
something
. I've been attacked by rats that crumble to powder.'

‘Back to earth,' Robin said. ‘Dust to dust.'

‘Whatever. Never mind that, the thing is now we have to get out of here. Then we can worry about how to stop him, assuming he needs stopping.'

‘He needs stopping,' Dad said. ‘What you've experienced is just the beginning of what he's hoping to do.'

‘Fine, then let's get moving.'

‘Why not just go to Harper and tell him to stop?' Katherine said. ‘Tell him what he's doing is dangerous. He'd listen.'

‘No, he wouldn't,' Robin told her. ‘Matt's right, it's time we were going.'

Harper sat back, swinging gently in his chair as he watched the screen. ‘Oh, I'm so sorry.' He leaned forward again and moved the screen slightly so that Venture could see better.

It showed a picture of what looked like an open-plan office, except there were no walls. The furniture was blocky and crudely coloured, like a computer game. The people were also rough approximations, but immediately recognisable – Katherine Feather, Doctor Stribling, Matt and Robin.

Harper moved the mouse, and the image moved with it. The point of view changed as if the camera was moving, pulling back to a low stone wall. And behind that, the rough, rocky side of the cavern itself.

As they watched, the wall of the cavern shimmered and moved. The surface seemed to ripple and melt. Then it bulged and grew as a shape began to force its way out of the wall …

‘I'm staying,' Dad said.

‘You what?' Matt couldn't believe it. ‘But you don't have to stay here for me any more. I only just found you – I'm not losing you again. We can get away.'

‘Only if we're quick,' Robin pointed out. ‘Once they've searched the pyramid, they'll come looking down here.'

‘I'm staying,' Dad repeated. ‘Sorry, Matt, but I have to. From what you tell me, Julius is still here, and together perhaps we can keep Harper in check. Maybe we can slow down his work. And while I think of it,' he said, smiling, ‘this disc he has us all working on …'

‘Yes,' I was thinking about that,' Matt said. ‘There's something you need to know about the disc, something important …'

But Robin stopped him. She was holding his arm, tightly. ‘Come on!'

‘I think,' Katherine said, ‘that you may already be too late.'

She was pointing past them, towards the main amphitheatre. Matt and Robin both turned to look. It was dark between the area where Dad and Katherine were working and the main structure. But silhouetted against the distant lights, shapes were forming, shadows were deepening. It was as if the walls and the floor were erupting, spewing out dark, earthy creatures. Lumpy and misshapen figures that were lurching towards Matt and the others.

If they waited, they would be trapped. ‘We have to get past them,' Matt shouted. ‘Dad – it's now or never. I can't just leave you here.'

But Matt's father was shaking his head. ‘You can,' he said emphatically, ‘and you must. There's no time to explain or to argue. Just believe me, it's for the best. Now, go on – get out of here while you can.'

‘If we can,' Robin muttered. ‘Leave him, Matt. Once he's decided something you can't make him change his mind.'

‘Like you'd know,' Matt said. He felt close to tears, but he was determined not to show it. He took Robin's hand and they ran. ‘See you, Dad,' Matt shouted back over his shoulder. ‘We'll get out of here – I'll come back for you. We'll bring help!'

‘Be careful!' he heard in reply. As if he hadn't thought of that.

The ground at their feet was rippling and moving. In the dim light, Matt could see the earth and grit between the slabs of stone bubbling up like spring water. It was coming together, coalescing, forming into a puddle of sand that flowed
upwards
– another figure that turned to face them, lumbered after them, misshapen arms stretched out to grab them as they passed …

Coarse, gritty fingers snagged at their clothes and clawed at their faces. They put their heads down and charged through. Matt lashed out, felt his hand thump into earth. It came away wet and muddy.

They were in the light now, leaping down the terraces towards the stage. But the creatures were hurrying after them, leaving trails of sand and earth behind them.

Matt did not dare look back, did not dare to look too closely at the things that were after them. Were they really made from the earth itself?

Robin had pulled her hand free and was running
just ahead of Matt. ‘That's what I call empirical proof,' she shouted to him.

‘It's what I call a nightmare,' he gasped back.

They reached the stage, and Robin charged onwards, heading for the river that roared past on the other side of the circular dais.

‘What now?' Matt asked. ‘Swim for it?' He was struggling to keep up with her.

‘Don't be daft. Down the tunnel.'

The river ran past the stage and out of the enormous chamber through a tunnel it had eroded from the mountain rock over the millennia. Along the edge of the water was a lip of rock – little more than a ledge. It ran like a path beside the river. Matt followed Robin into the tunnel.

‘We won't be able to see where we're going,' he pointed out. The light was already fading. He could see the water like oil surging past them, its rush and roar almost drowning out his words.

A tiny light. Not much, but enough to illuminate Robin's face. ‘Keyring torch,' she said. ‘Don't know how long it'll last.'

‘Or what good it will do,' Matt said. ‘If this ledge just stops we'll be in the water before we know it.'

‘Oh you're a bundle of optimism,' she told him. ‘Come on.'

But Matt had stopped dead, rooted on the ledge just yards down the tunnel.

‘What?' she demanded.

He could only nod dumbly at what he saw behind her.

Slowly, Robin turned, holding up her keyring. The tiny blue light glimmered faintly, throwing shadows across her face. Barely enough light to see.

Barely enough light to illuminate the wall of water rising up from the river and curling over at them. Barely enough to show the way the water split, like arms reaching out. The wall of water was hanging in the damp air, holes torn out of it that might be eyes. A raging mouth. A face that Matt had seen before, he realised with horrified fascination – staring at him from the window of a train. Had Harper been watching him for so long?

Another dark, wet shape was forcing its way up out of the river. Glistening and rippling, arms first then head and shoulders – a figure heaving itself up onto the ledge in front of them. A figure made of water. Feet slapping on the rock floor, puddles escaping from its every step, cold wet hands reaching out for Robin and Matt. Behind it, the whole river was still curling upwards, towering over them.

They turned and ran, as the huge wave crashed down on the ledge and watery dank figures pushed through it and sludged after them towards the cavern.

Out into the light again – to find the earthy creatures almost at the stage, trails of sand and mud like seaweed behind them.

‘Back up to the pyramid?' Matt wondered, so winded he was almost retching.

‘Reckon so. You got your breath back?'

‘No.'

‘Come on then,' she said. Robin grabbed his hand and dragged him after her.

Back the way they had come, up the steep steps. Shoulders down, smacking into one of the figures, sending it spinning away – mud and earth showering from it like water shaken off a dog. Another figure loomed ahead, reaching out, so close that Matt could smell the fetid stale earth it was made from. He could see roots and plant filaments knotted through its clutching hands.

Matt grabbed the pole holding one of the lamps as they passed, and pulled. The lamp crashed down, exploding in a shower of glass as it hit the ground. But Matt held onto the metal pole and swung it hard at the creature reaching out for them.

It scythed into the figure, sending earth flying. The pole stuck – buried in the creature's side as if he had thumped it into the ground. But it slowed the creature enough for Matt and Robin to sprint past.

On, up the terraced steps – enormous leaps, chest-bursting breathless running. The dark opening of the passageway leading up to the pyramid now within sight. Matt looked back, saw how close the things were, and ran faster. He glanced anxiously across to where Dad had been, but
could see nothing and no one through the gloom and past the broken outer walls. ‘I shouldn't have left you,' he said. But his words were little more than breathless gasps.

Into the passage. No more steps, but uphill. Their breathing echoing off the walls. Sand slipping from between the stones and pooling on the floor – rising up. Matt kicked viciously at every little pyramid of sand he passed, sending the grains flying apart again.

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