Web of Fire Bind-up (43 page)

‘All the time,' said Sam. ‘And although I know I went back to my life on Earth, it already feels like someone else's life. I'm not sure I even know the difference between what's real and what's a dream any more.'

‘Perhaps,' said Skipper, ‘there is less difference than we think.'

Sam chewed at a piece of hard skin on the side of his fingernail and watched a smartly dressed Japanese businessman shake some soy sauce over his sushi. Sure, it all seemed real enough. But piloting a robber fly into a sushi bar and watching giant Japanese people eat their lunch from the edge of a shelf was rather a strange reality.

‘I wish I could remember,' said Skipper, and there was sadness in her eyes, like clouds reflected in the ocean. ‘I wish I could remember what it is that I have lost.'

Sam shrugged. ‘Maybe we all lose something somewhere along the way,' he said. ‘And maybe forgetting about it is the only way that we manage to keep going.'

‘Want some more?' asked Skipper. ‘I've got heaps of the stuff.'

Sam swallowed another piece of fish and looked across at the piles of orange sushi stacked up on either side of her. Skipper puffed her stomach out and folded her hands across it like a walrus with a weight problem.

‘Go on,' she said. ‘You
know
you want to.'

‘No thanks,' replied Sam queasily. ‘I'd probably explode.'

‘Really?' said Skipper, sitting up. ‘That could be a handy trick in a tight spot.' She held up a big chunk of fish. ‘I'll take some with us just in case.'

‘OK,' said Sam. ‘You do that.' He glanced at the robber fly parked at the back of the shelf. ‘I suppose we ought to make a move. If we can get back through the fabric gap, we might be able to find the other one that'll take us to Kansas.' He grinned. ‘It'll be like the
Wizard of Oz
.
Aunt Em! Aunt Em!
'

Skipper sank back against the fish again, sighed loudly and stuck her stomach out even further.

‘I have no idea what you're talking about, Sam, but right now I can't move anywhere. I am
completely
stuffed.' She belched, covered her mouth apologetically with one hand and then smiled. ‘Thank you, waiter. Maybe just a little dessert, then.'

Suddenly, Sam became aware of a loud, low humming noise. Skipper frowned and looked at him.

‘Do you hear that?' she asked.

Sam nodded. ‘What is it?'

‘Don't know.'

The sound of raised voices floated up from the restaurant below and as the two of them looked down they saw that a huge, orange-coloured wasp had flown through the shop doorway and was now hovering above a plate of food. Sam stared at it in amazement. It was at least twice the size of any wasp he had ever flown.

A young man sitting at the table hurriedly pushed back his chair and flapped ineffectually at the enormous wasp which, seemingly untroubled by his efforts, landed on his plate and began tearing off a lump of fish. A waiter stepped forward and nervously flicked a cloth at the wasp which rose angrily into the air and flew straight towards him. This time the waiter's aim was more accurate; as the cloth snapped through the air with a loud crack, the wasp banged against the plate glass window and fell to the floor. But when the waiter moved towards it, it shook itself, took off again and with a loud buzz, flew out through the open door.

‘Did you
see
that!' whispered Skipper breathlessly. ‘That has to be the biggest, baddest wasp I ever saw!'

Sam shook his head. ‘That was no wasp,' he said, his eyes bright with excitement.

Skipper looked at him quizzically.

‘What was it then?'

‘That,' replied Sam, ‘was a Japanese hornet. I can remember reading about them. They're the fiercest killers in the whole of the insect kingdom. Believe me,
they don't come any nastier than that.'

Skipper turned towards him and he saw that a smile was slowly beginning to spread across her face.

‘Sam,' she said after a moment's thought. ‘Are you thinking what I'm thinking?'

Sam nodded.

‘Yes,' he said. ‘I'm afraid I probably am.'

‘The thing is,' said Sam as they flew out of the shop and up over the rooftops, ‘the nest has got to be somewhere close. Hornets don't catch a bus into town, do they?'

‘No,' said Skipper, ‘and I bet they don't take kindly to people stealing their eggs, either.'

‘Really?' said Sam. ‘Well, you
do
surprise me.'

Skipper smiled.

‘Reckon we can pull it off?'

‘No,' said Sam as they skimmed across an alleyway full of dustbins overflowing with rubbish. ‘Actually I don't.'

‘Look, Sam,' said Skipper, ‘if we can get ourselves a few of those things, then Odoursin's robber flies are total
history
! So we are going to try, right?'

‘I think we've got to,' said Sam. ‘I can't see any other option, personally. I wish I could, but I can't.'

He lifted his finger and pointed ahead through the screen.

‘Look,' he said. ‘Talk of the devil.'

And when Skipper looked she saw that they were heading towards a wood on the outskirts of the city and there, flying not more than twenty metres in front of them, was a giant Japanese hornet.

‘It's
massive
!' exclaimed Skipper excitedly as they followed the huge insect into the dappled green shade of the wood. ‘Stick a few of those up in the sky over Vermia and things could turn around nicely again for us. Those robber flies wouldn't stand a chance.'

‘No,' said Sam. ‘Which is a bit worrying really, when you consider what we're flying in at the moment.'

‘Look,' said Skipper, pointing over to the left. ‘We've got company.'

Out of the corner of his eye Sam saw another huge hornet flying low over a trail of fallen branches and tree roots, hugging the contours of the ground as it manoeuvred effortlessly between the natural obstacles in its path. Swinging the fly right to avoid a low hanging branch, he spotted another one up ahead in the distance.

‘We must be getting near the nest,' he said. ‘We should probably land fairly soon – park up around the back and use ropes for the last bit.'

‘Good idea,' said Skipper as two more hornets shot past on their left. ‘They're getting a bit close for comfort.'

‘Look,' said Sam, throttling back so that their speed slowed to a virtual standstill. ‘Over there.'

Ahead of them, three huge hornets hovered above the forest floor. Every few seconds they swivelled through
the air, constantly checking the surrounding area for signs of possible danger.

‘Sentinels,' said Skipper. ‘They must be protecting the nest.'

Below the guards, Sam could see an old, moss-covered tree-stump filled with rainwater. Above it, a steady stream of hornets flew in and out of a large, oval-shaped ball which hung from one of the branches.

‘Bingo,' he said. ‘There's the nest.'

Skipper nodded.

‘Hurry up then, Sammy. Let's land this thing before they turn us into meatballs.'

They turned sharply left and flew in a wide circle before making their final approach from the far side of the tree, out of sight of the watching hornets. Sam pulled back on the joystick so that the front of the fly came up before easing off the throttle and landing neatly on the flat green surface of a beech leaf, just below where the nest was situated.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,' he said, holding his nose for effect. ‘I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for flying with Norzun Airlines and wish you all a very pleasant stay at the Hornet Hotel.'

‘Why thank you, Captain,' said Skipper, climbing over the seats into the back. ‘I'm sure it will be a once in a lifetime experience.'

‘Let's hope so,' said Sam, watching her throw down the rope ladder. He handed her a rucksack that was bulging with more ropes and she swung it on her back
before setting off down the ladder. Taking the other rucksack he followed her down. The rope vibrated in tune with the buzzing of the hornets and the whole forest seemed to hum like a power station. Sam's heart beat faster as he thought about the task ahead. In a few short minutes they would be trying to enter a nest of vicious hornets which would attack at the slightest provocation. If the hornets discovered them – which, given the circumstances, seemed very likely – they would be ripped apart or – even worse – stung to death.

It was not a happy thought.

‘You're looking a bit pale there,' said Skipper as Sam stepped back off the rope onto the leaf. ‘Not having second thoughts, are we?'

Sam smiled wanly.

‘Nah,' he said. He lay on his stomach and peered down over the side of the leaf, which undulated slightly beneath him. It felt like lying on a big green water bed. ‘Probably just the sushi.'

‘Oh,' said Skipper. She gave him a knowing smile. ‘That's all right then.'

A ray of light shone through the branches onto the leaf, making it suddenly translucent. Sam felt the sun warm upon his back and watched as wisps of steam rose from tiny holes in the leaf's surface. His whole body tingled with nervous anticipation at the thought of what was to come, but underneath he felt strangely calm. He couldn't explain it but it was as if, for a brief moment, everything in the world seemed just as it should be.

‘I think,' said Skipper, ‘perhaps we should go over the plan one more time, just to make sure.'

Sam looked at the thick tree trunk and listened to the humming of the hornets. ‘OK,' he said. ‘And then let's go for it.'

Firebrand heard the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor and his muscles tensed. He was a brave man – of that there was no doubt – but these people knew that even the bravest man has his limits. And they knew that, eventually, they would find a way to push him beyond them.

But they hadn't succeeded yet. And, although he was tired and afraid, Firebrand was determined that they wouldn't succeed tonight either.

The door swung open and three men walked in. Firebrand recognised two of them immediately; the steel toe-capped boots and wooden batons being the standard equipment of his usual tormentors. But the third man was new to him. He wore a long black leather coat of the sort favoured by top-ranking officials in the Vermian Empire and his blond hair was close cropped beneath his cap. As he stood in the middle of the cell and stared at Firebrand through a pair of round, gold-rimmed glasses, Firebrand looked back into the hard green eyes and saw that they were empty of all emotion. They contained neither hate nor pity; not anger nor love; simply a cold, ruthless determination to win.

‘Good afternoon, Commander,' the man said. ‘It is an honour to meet you at last, although unfortunate that it
should be under such circumstances. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Major Krazni, Head of Intelligence.' He smiled. ‘Perhaps you have heard of me?'

Krazni.
Firebrand had heard the name all right. Krazni had been responsible for some of the worst atrocities during the battle for Vahlzi – mass executions in the capital and the destruction of the city hospital among them. But Firebrand had also heard that Krazni was a vain man, and wasn't about to give him the satisfaction he was looking for.

‘No,' he lied. ‘I've never heard of you.'

He was rewarded by the tiniest flicker of anger in Krazni's eyes, but it quickly vanished again, leaving only a cold stare in its place.

‘Well,' said Krazni, ‘no matter. The important thing is, I know all about you, Commander. Or, perhaps I should say, ex-Commander.'

Firebrand made no reply, choosing instead to watch a small brown cockroach scuttle beneath his tattered grey blanket.

‘They tell me you are a well-educated man, Commander. Is that true?'

‘I know the difference between right and wrong,' replied Firebrand. ‘Which is more than some.'

Krazni smiled. ‘How very interesting, Commander. An attempt to seize the moral high ground. I wonder, do you know how many civilians were killed when your soldiers invaded Vermia four years ago?'

‘We didn't start this war,' said Firebrand bitterly.

‘No,' replied Krazni. ‘And neither will you finish it. But to return to my original question – do you consider yourself well educated?'

Firebrand stared at the cold stone floor and said nothing. Oh, he was well educated all right. He had read a thousand books on history, politics, science and religion. But what good had it done him? In the end, he had lost everything.

‘Oh, I'm sorry,' Krazni continued. ‘I had forgotten that you are a modest man. You couldn't possibly answer such a question without recourse to vanity. But then perhaps only a well-educated man would be so self-effacing.'

He paused for a moment, apparently pleased with his own summing up of the situation.