Web of Fire Bind-up (35 page)

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Authors: Steve Voake

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Flea motorbike

‘Easy,' said Mump. ‘Just release the jump lever.'

‘Or alternatively,' said Zip with a wry smile, ‘you could just crash it into a snowdrift.'

Pretending not to have heard this last comment, Mump reached over and turned the ignition key.

‘OK, Sam,' he said. ‘She's all primed and ready to go.'

‘Right,' said Sam.

He took a deep breath and looked at the dark green pine trees that stood tall against the cold winter sky.

Then he squeezed the lever.

With a loud click, all the compressed energy in the flea's legs was suddenly released and Sam found himself flung high into the air with such extraordinary, breathtaking acceleration that he felt as though his insides had been ripped out and left behind in the snow. As he rocketed up into the sky at an incredible speed he looked down and noticed the two tiny black dots below him. One of the dots appeared to be waving.

Hanging on desperately to the handlebars, Sam released the lever. He immediately felt the speed of his ascent begin to slow until, just for a moment, he seemed to be hanging perfectly still above the frozen winter landscape. Looking down he saw that he was high above the trees.

Seconds later he dropped through the air like a stone, his stomach flipping as the treetops rushed toward him at a frightening rate. He was just wondering if he would be killed quickly and whether it would hurt a lot when there was a snapping of branches, a prickling of pine
needles and he found himself sitting at the top of a very tall pine tree, watching two small black dots run across the snow towards him.

‘Help!' he shouted as the tree began to sway slightly in the wind. ‘I'm stuck!'

He looked down and saw Zip cupping his hands around his mouth.

‘Pull the jump lever again!' he shouted. ‘Look towards us and pull the lever!'

‘Oh no,' muttered Sam queasily, looking at the long drop to the ground and feeling the soles of his feet tingle at the prospect of falling. But he moved his head around until the centre of the red cross in the goggle display was positioned directly between Zip and Mump, then squeezed the jump lever again. There was another loud click, a rush of cold air and suddenly the flea had landed neatly (and surprisingly softly) on the snow and Sam was staring at the figures of Zip and Mump who were lying sprawled out on either side of him.

‘Hi, fellas,' he said, smiling happily now that he was safely back on the ground again. ‘What are you doing down there?'

Zip sat up and brushed snow from his hair.

‘I said look towards us,' he said, ‘not
at
us.'

Sam looked puzzled for a moment until it dawned on him that he had very nearly squashed his two friends beneath the flea.

‘Oh,' he said. ‘Sorry about that.'

‘That's OK,' said Mump cheerfully, dusting himself
down. ‘I was afraid for a minute there that life might be getting a bit dull. You know, a bit ordinary. But then – Bam! – it all just kicks off again.' He grinned and held his hand out to Zip who grabbed hold of it and pulled himself to his feet. ‘Wouldn't have it any other way now, would we, Zip?'

Zip looked doubtful. ‘Maybe not,' he said. ‘It'd be nice to have the choice, though.'

Mump stared up into the darkening sky where thick snow clouds were piling up over the mountain peaks all around them. ‘There's another storm brewing,' he said.

Zip nodded. ‘I say we make our way back to base and meet up with the others. I can give Mump a backer on my flea and you can have a bit of practice on the other one, Sam. What do you think?'

But Sam was staring back up the mountain again, his thoughts drawn once more to the silver waters of the lake. Although he could not have said why, a shiver of excitement ran through his veins and his heart began to beat a little faster.

‘Sam? What is it? What's up?'

‘Oh it's nothing,' said Sam. ‘It's just…'

He paused, unable to explain the feelings that troubled him.

Listen with your heart…

‘I don't suppose,' he said awkwardly, ‘I could borrow this flea for a few hours, could I?'

Zip frowned.

‘What for, buddy?'

Sam shook his head.

‘It's just… I've got this strong feeling about something, that's all. It feels really important. I can't explain it any other way.'

Zip stared at him. ‘That's it? Just a really strong feeling?'

Sam shrugged. ‘That's it.'

‘Do you want us to come with you?' asked Mump.

Sam shook his head again. ‘No, I don't think so.'

Zip chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment and then looked at Mump.

‘Well, I reckon that's good enough for me, Mump. How ‘bout you?'

Mump nodded. ‘Can't argue with strong feelings, I say.'

Zip looked back at Sam and raised his eyebrows.

‘OK, mystery man,' he said. ‘Guess we'll pitch camp over in the trees until you get back. But if you're not here by morning, we'll come looking for you, OK?'

‘OK,' said Sam. ‘Thank you.'

Zip gestured toward the steep mountain slope with his hand.

‘She's all yours, buddy,' he said. ‘But be careful.'

Sam took a deep breath. ‘I will,' he said.

Then he squeezed the lever and disappeared into the sky.

Six

Doctor Janik Jancy glanced over at the young research assistant standing next to him and secretly felt rather proud of her.

‘Try not to be nervous, Miss Blin,' he said gently. ‘Just tell them what you know.'

He knocked twice on the thick, oak-panelled door and waited for an answer. It was – as Alya had been told on several occasions – a great honour to receive an invitation to General Martock's private residence, and Jancy was obviously rather nervous himself.

Alya heard the sound of footsteps echoing across a wooden floor and then the door was opened by a soldier dressed in the ubiquitous black uniform of the Vermian Guard. Obviously expecting them, the soldier stood back to let them pass and they found themselves standing in the middle of a huge circular library, surrounded on all sides by bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. The room had an old, musty smell to it and Alya could see
a hundred years of dust dancing in the shafts of winter sunlight that streamed through the leaded windows.

At the opposite end of the room was a small, crescent-shaped table at which an officious looking woman sat studying a catalogue of some sort. Behind her was a large pair of doors with a guard posted on either side.

The woman continued to study the pages of her book as the two of them crossed the floor although she could not have failed to notice the sound of their approaching footsteps.

They stood in front of the desk for several seconds until it became obvious that the woman had no intention of acknowledging their presence, whereupon Doctor Jancy coughed politely and waited.

The woman slowly raised her head and regarded Jancy with practised disdain through a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles.

‘Yes?' she said. ‘Can I help you?'

Alya looked at the grey hair scraped back into a tight little bun and decided that helping others was probably not one of this woman's strengths.

‘Yes, I believe you can,' replied Jancy patiently. ‘I have an appointment to see General Martock at three o'clock.'

One of the things Jancy had always prided himself on was his ability to be punctual. The fact that the minute hand of the clock on the wall clicked round onto the hour at the very moment that he had finished speaking gave him an inordinate amount of pleasure and he allowed himself a rare smile.

‘Ah yes, Doctor Jancy.' The woman adjusted her glasses a little further down her nose in order to peer over them at Alya. ‘And you are…?'

‘I am what?' said Alya.

The woman frowned. Either this girl was very stupid, or she was being extremely rude. Judging by the twinkle in her eye, it was probably the latter. She glared at her.

‘What is your name, girl?'

‘Alya Blin,' said Alya. ‘What's yours?'

Flustered, the woman hurriedly checked the entries in the appointments book and waved the pair of them in with a grunt. Then she took her glasses off and rubbed her eyes. That was the problem with young people today: they had no respect. Such
attitude
.

She replaced her glasses and turned back to her catalogue to look at some more pictures of books, safe in the knowledge that they would never talk back to her.

‘Ah, Doctor Jancy.'

With some difficulty, General Martock got up from his chair next to the fire and motioned to the pair of them to come in.

‘And who, may I ask, is the lovely young lady?'

‘This is Miss Blin,' said Jancy. ‘She has been assisting me in my research.'

‘Indeed,' said Martock. ‘Well perhaps one day she will assist me in mine.' He laughed unpleasantly and, taking it as their cue, the three other men sitting around the fireplace laughed too.

‘That all depends,' said Alya, looking him right in the eye.

General Martock smiled indulgently and looked around at his companions as if to check that they shared his amusement. ‘On what, my dear?'

‘On whether or not you are infected with parasites,' replied Alya. She smiled sweetly and noticed out of the corner of her eye that Doctor Jancy was looking horrified.

The smile vanished from General Martock's face.

‘What do you mean?' he asked.

‘Oh she means nothing by it,' Jancy interjected hurriedly. ‘She is a specialist in parasitic studies, that is all. That is why I have brought her along here, you see. To explain the problem with the ants.'

Martock regarded Jancy suspiciously for a moment, then seemed to relax a little.

‘Yes, well. In that case, let us proceed. Please, come and join us.'

He gestured towards the others and Alya sat down next to Jancy on a faded green sofa near the fire. Jancy shot her a stern warning look and she realised with a sinking feeling that she just been rude to one of the most powerful men in Vermia. It was not the most auspicious start to her scientific career. She silently determined that from now on she would try to keep her thoughts to herself. But as she watched General Martock heave his bulky frame back into the chair and saw his hard little eyes staring at her, she felt strangely alone, like a flower that has pushed its way up through a crack in the earth
only to find itself surrounded by concrete.

‘First, some introductions,' said Martock. ‘This is Lieutenant Reisner, Leader of our Earth-Based Ant Squadrons.' A fit, hard-muscled man in his late twenties nodded curtly at them and Alya imagined him standing on some freezing cold parade ground, shouting at his men as they ran around in tracksuits.

A slightly older, more distinguished-looking man was standing up and bowing in their direction, exuding the quiet self-confidence that comes with power and success. ‘Field Marshal Stanzun,' said Martock, ‘is a veteran of our successful Vahlzian campaign and Overall Commander of our forces both here and on Earth.'

Alya noticed that his short black hair was greying at the sides and that the breast pocket of his uniform was decorated with lines of coloured medal ribbons.

‘And Major Krazni here is Head of Intelligence and Security.'

Looking across at the thin, blond-haired man in the black leather coat standing next to the fire, Alya felt the hairs prickle on the back of her neck. There was something about the way he looked at her through his small round spectacles, the way his cold green eyes seemed to bore into her own that made her feel extremely uncomfortable.

‘And I think you all know Doctor Janik Jancy, Head of InRaD, at least by reputation.'

General Martock turned to face Jancy and the others looked at him expectantly.

‘So, Doctor. I understand you have some important information for us.'

Jancy nodded.

‘I believe so, yes.'

‘Then, please, keep us in suspense no longer.'

Jancy folded his hands in his lap and sat up straight. For some reason he made Alya think of a small boy on his first day at school.

‘The cause of the malfunction in the ants is a parasitic worm which begins its life in snails. The ants are attracted to the snail's slime and when they feed on it, they swallow the worms. The worms know that they need to live in a sheep for the final stage of their life cycle. So they have learned how to change the ant's natural behaviour in order to achieve their goal.'

Alya noticed that General Martock was suddenly leaning forward in his chair with great interest.

‘Are you saying that this small, insignificant creature is actually able to affect the behaviour of other creatures?'

‘Well, I don't know about other creatures, but it can certainly influence the behaviour of ants, yes.'

Field Marshal Stanzun was looking puzzled.

‘Can you please explain to us, Doctor Jancy, the method in which the worm can influence the behaviour of ants?'

‘Certainly,' said Jancy. ‘Although perhaps in this instance I will defer to my research assistant, Miss Blin, who has a particular specialism in this field.'

All eyes were now on Alya. She suddenly became acutely aware of the importance of her task, but her nervousness was tempered by the fact that she had a secure grasp of her subject. She knew what she was talking about.

‘By following a series of chemical signposts, the worm makes its way through the ant's bloodstream until it reaches the brain. It is here that it begins to weave its biological magic.'

Alya looked around the room and saw the men exchanging the kind of glances that suggested they were rather more excited by all of this than she had expected. She had always found the life cycles of parasites fascinating, of course, but she hadn't presumed that her enthusiasm would be shared to such an extent by this particular group.

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