The Shadow Project, page 18
Frowning, Opal said, “What do you see, Mrs. Bayley?”
“That would be telling,” Dorothy said. “And it’s Dorothy. Or Dot.”
“What’s he want?” Danny asked quietly.
“He’s come to help us,” Dorothy announced. She dropped her voice. “We’ve got Hector to thank for this. He has some peculiar contacts through that Priory of his.”
It occurred to Danny suddenly that living on the astral plane was like waking in a dream. The whole place had a dreamlike quality about it—the way you could look down into a flower, the tricks his Nan played with that mirror, meeting up with Moses straight down from the mountain. But at the same time it didn’t shift around the way dreams did. They were still outside the pylon gate, the road was still there, the flower was still there, growing in impossible sand that still stretched out endlessly around them. And he was awake. He knew he was awake.
“We’ve come to get the Spear of Destiny,” Dorothy said. “You going to point us in the right direction, Harry?”
The biblical figure before Danny suddenly erupted into a towering pillar of flame that gradually transformed itself into humanoid form. He should have been impressed, but he kept thinking—Flame on!—it looked like something you’d see in Fantastic Four. The heat radiation was immense. Danny glanced at the others and deduced from the angle of their necks that they were seeing what he was.
“Thy adversary has hunted by the Lake of Unt,” rumbled the Lord of the Flame. “With the spear he has pierced the Everlasting in the Shenlu Chamber. Have care when you release him.”
Not one word of it made any sense whatsoever to Danny.
55
Opal, the Astral Plane
They halted for the night in the desert, their surroundings flat and silent, illuminated by a blue-white moonlight that somehow appeared without a moon. They had walked for what seemed like hours, but Michael got antsy about stopping. “Do we have time for this?” he demanded.
They all turned to look at Dorothy, the one who seemed to know how things worked around here. Dorothy said, “We got time. Besides, we need to sleep to get us to the lake.”
“Lake?” Danny frowned.
“Unt,” Dorothy told him.
But Michael still seemed anxious. “Uncle Hector said it would only be a matter of a few hours before the Devourer could manifest in our reality. We’ve been here for at least two hours already.”
Dorothy said, “Don’t fret yourself, Michael. Time runs slower here for some reason. Varies a bit, but you can usually rely on a day to an hour, and we ain’t been a day here yet. We got time to do the job. Only we need to be fresh. And us girls need our beauty sleep, don’t we, Opal?”
Opal said, “Aren’t we a bit exposed for sleeping here? There’s no shelter and we’ve no sleeping bags.” She hesitated, wondering if Dorothy might produce sleeping bags the way she produced a mirror, then added, “And mightn’t there be scorpions or creepy-crawlies? I mean, you always get scorpions in the desert, don’t you?”
Dorothy smiled. “Just you sit down on the sand and dig a little hole.”
“Pardon?”
“Like you were going to build a sand castle. You can dig with your hands. Go on—humor me.”
Opal glanced suspiciously at Dorothy, but crouched down and cautiously pushed one hand into the sand. She struck bedrock at once. “It’s not very deep.”
“Keep going,” Dorothy said. “Clear a bit of a space.”
Opal pulled back a thin layer of sand. “That’s not bedrock,” she said. “That’s not rock at all.” If anything it looked like polished metal, or even plastic.
“Nobody ever believes it unless they see it,” Dorothy said smugly. “This looks like the desert and feels like the desert when you’re walking, but it’s not the desert. It’s not real. None of this is real, not the way you think. Not this place, not the city, not Hari-what’s-his-name.”
“Then what are we doing here, Nan?” Danny asked.
Dorothy gave him a look. “Saving poor old Opal and a lot more besides. Real or not, what happens in our world depends on what happens here, always has done, always will do, apparently.” She smiled at Opal. “So you don’t need to worry. You just get some sleep, and when you wake up, there we’ll be in Unt, ready to do what we were sent for.”
“You said that before, Nan.” Danny frowned. “You said we had to sleep to get to Unt. What you mean by that?”
“Sleep’s the fastest way to get to different places here,” Dorothy said.
“How does that work?”
She shrugged. “Beats me, but then I can’t even set a DVD player. Just one of the differences with this place. There are lots of them. Won’t get any colder, for example, even though it’s a clear night. No creepy-crawlies either. Or scorpions or snakes or any of that sort. Won’t find superbugs lurking around here, I can tell you.”
“Wait a minute!” Opal said suddenly. “I met you in the clinic, didn’t I? That was you, wasn’t it? I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it before. You seem so different now!”
Dorothy grinned. “Wondered if you’d remember. No need to apologize—I scrub up a lot better than the way I look traipsing around in my nightie. But you know me now, and that’s a good thing—shows we were all meant to be together, doesn’t it? Me and Danny, you and Michael. Sort of fated, know what I mean? You get a lot of that in this line of work—fate. Hector always calls it destiny. Amounts to the same thing, I suppose. Makes you feel somebody up there’s looking after you, although you do have to mostly fend for yourself, in my experience.”
Michael lay down first. “Well, if this is the fastest way to get the job done…”
Danny stared at him for a moment, then squatted down nearby, but didn’t stretch out. “Nan…?”
“Yes, Danny?”
“You know your way around this place.”
“Maybe I do and maybe I don’t,” Dorothy said. “Been here before, if that’s what you mean, but it’s different every time. Bit like dreaming. You never know where you’ll turn up next.”
“But we aren’t dreaming, are we?” Danny asked, voicing an earlier thought.
“Don’t think so. What you do in dreams doesn’t make much difference to what happens when you’re awake. What you do in this place definitely changes things back home. I can tell you that for a fact.”
Danny said, “Hector told us we can’t die here—is that true?”
“You sure that’s what he told you?” Dorothy said.
Danny frowned. “I think so.”
“What he actually said was that he would look after our physical bodies,” Michael put in, glancing at Dorothy.
“Not the same thing, is it?” Dorothy remarked. “Actually it’s tricky. The astral body you’re in now can’t be killed, Danny—that’s true. But it can be hurt, all right—hurt badly—and that can affect the link with your physical body. If it goes too far, the link will snap. You’ll still be alive on the astral plane, but on the physical, your heart will stop.” She trailed off with an expressive shrug.
“You mean I can die, whatever Hector said?”
Dorothy gave him a worried look. “Depends what you mean by dying, doesn’t it? You won’t be dead here. Just…”
“Not able to get back into my real body!” Danny exclaimed. “You’d think Hector might have mentioned that!”
“Uncle Hector had other things on his mind,” Michael said defensively. “Besides, we aren’t going to get hurt here.” He hesitated, then added, “If we’re careful.” He looked at Danny. “So we’ve really nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about?” Danny exploded. “Depends what else slipped Uncle Hector’s mind, doesn’t it? Conveniently slipped Uncle Hector’s mind.”
Michael flared at once. “Listen, Danny—” he said angrily.
“Now, now, boys.” Dorothy moved quickly between them. “Let’s not get silly about this. I think Hector might just have been trying not to upset you.”
Or maybe just making sure we agreed to do the job, Danny thought. He glared at Michael but said nothing more.
Dorothy said, “You and me can lie down over here, Opal, away from the boys. They’ll snore. Men always snore. So we’ll just keep well away.”
Opal lay down, but despite Dorothy’s promise, found she couldn’t sleep. Her mind was racing. She was worried about her father, of course, worried about Farrakhan, worried about the Devourer, worried about the job they were supposed to do in this weird place, but more than anything else, she kept thinking about Michael.
She lay on her back in the sand, staring up into a starless sky, listening to the faint sounds of the two boys snoring. She’d been so certain he liked her, so sure of the signals he was sending. In fact there’d been times when she’d caught him staring at her. But then he would unexpectedly turn cold. “Can’t sleep?” Dorothy asked quietly beside her.
“How did you know?”
“Could tell from your breathing. You worried about your prince?”
Opal sat bolt upright and looked down at her. “You couldn’t tell that from my breathing.”
Dorothy gave her little grin. “Saw the way you look at him. You two an item?”
Opal subsided a little. “I wish.”
“Maybe he’s just shy,” said Dorothy. “Why don’t you ask him out? Girls can do that now, not like my young days.”
“I tried that,” Opal grumbled.
“Said no, did he?”
“Yes. I mean yes, he said no.”
“More fool him,” Dorothy sniffed. “You’re a lovely girl. He don’t know what he’s missing.”
“Thank you,” Opal said, lying down again.
“What did he say when he said no?” Dorothy asked. “I mean he didn’t just say no, did he? Must have said why.”
“He just ran off,” Opal said, her voice rising at the memory. “I mean, walked away as if I’d offended him or something. I have no idea why.”
“Cheeky bugger,” Dorothy said.
They lay in silence for a while. Eventually Dorothy said, “You still thinking about him?”
“Yes.”
“It’s this place,” Dorothy said.
“What is?”
“The astral plane. Stirs up your emotions.”
Opal said, “Do you have a thing for Uncle Hector, Dorothy? Speaking of stirred emotions.”
“Noticed that, did you? It was a long time ago.”
Despite everything, Opal smiled a little. “I’m not sure he’s entirely over it.”
“You think so?” Dorothy sounded pleased.
Opal finally fell asleep soon after that. The next day—if it could be counted as a real day in this place—they woke up by the Lake of Unt.
56
Danny, the Astral Plane
The Lake of Unt was a sea of flames. It was set in a wasteland of black volcanic rock (the desert had completely disappeared) interspersed with boiling mud pools and glowing, thready lava streams. Danny opened his eyes to find Dorothy already awake and standing silhouetted against the fiery glow. He looked around. “How did this happen?”
“It’s this place,” Dorothy said without looking around. “Very obliging at taking you where you want to go.”
“This is it?” Danny asked. “This is the lake where Farrakhan has stashed the spear?”
“Should be.” Dorothy still hadn’t turned around. “Danny, I want to talk to you about something.” She sounded serious.
He pushed himself to his feet. The others were still sleeping. Michael was flat on his back, his mouth partly open. A little distance away, Opal was curled up like a rolled prawn. “What is it, Nan?” He moved to stand beside her and the heat from the fiery lake struck him like a furnace.
“You got offered a place at Cambridge, didn’t you?”
It took him completely by surprise. “How did you find out?”
“Hector told me.”
“How did he know?”
“Sir Roland at the Project mentioned it. Doesn’t matter. I know about it now. You going to go?”
“To Cambridge?” He shook his head. “No…”
“Why not?” Dorothy asked sharply.
“Can’t afford it.”
She turned to glare at him. “Don’t you lie to me, Danny Lipman. I’ll find the money, same as I did for your private school. Or I expect your precious Shadow Project might give it to you since they seem to want you so much. Want you even more if you had a decent education. Course, they don’t know what a lying toad you are.”
Danny grinned at her sheepishly. “It’s not just the money, Nan. I wouldn’t fit into a place like Cambridge. Full of toffs.”
“You’d fit, all right. Got the brains for it—that’s all that counts these days. It’s me, isn’t it?”
Danny gave her an innocent look. “What you mean, Nan?”
“You know rightly what I mean!” She snorted. “You don’t want to leave me on my own.”
“Course I don’t want to leave you, Nan. I love you.”
This time it was Dorothy who shook her head: slowly, with pursed lips. “Don’t give me that! None of your soft soap. You don’t want to leave me because you think I can’t look after myself—that’s really it, isn’t it?”
“Nan,” Danny said seriously, “you’re not getting any younger.”
“Neither are you!” Dorothy snapped. “I want to tell you a couple of things, Danny—you listening?”
“Yes, Nan.”
“First thing is, nobody’s getting any younger. Not me, not you. One of these days you’re going to look in the mirror and find you’re middle-aged. I know you don’t believe it now, but you will. You want to look back then and think, ‘I wasted everything I had, never got a decent education, now I’m just an ignorant twit with no future and no prospects’? You want to think that? You want to think you had the chance and threw it away? Next thing is, you don’t owe me, Danny. You don’t owe me nothing—”
“Yes, I do, Nan,” Danny interrupted. “You’re the one who brought me up.”
“No, you bloody don’t!” said Dorothy with force. “That’s what one generation does for the next—brings them up. It’s just what you do. What else are you supposed to do?” She took a deep breath. “And the next thing—”
“That’s three things,” Danny said, grinning. “You said you wanted to tell me a couple.”
“Don’t get smart. The next thing is I want you to look at me. Go on, look at me.”
“I’m looking at you, Nan,” Danny said.
“No, look at me properly. Step back and look at me. What do you see?”
Funny thing was, she looked even younger than she had yesterday. The gray had gone out of her hair and it had taken on a reddish tint, although that might just be a reflection from the flames. But the biggest change was in her face and body. She was still his Nan, but she hardly looked much more than thirty—and a fit thirty at that. “What you telling me, Nan?” Danny asked quietly.
“That’s how I am inside,” Dorothy said. “Astral plane does that to you. Shows the way you are inside. Longer you stay, the clearer it gets. That’s why you’re taller here, and stronger. That’s why Michael’s starting to look like a bit of a hero when he’s so quiet on the outside. That’s why Opal doesn’t look as pretty as usual—poor thing’s not as confident as you might think. Me, I’m younger. Inside I got the feelings and the energy of a woman half my age. And I’m tough as old boots. I don’t need you looking after me, Danny, throwing away your chance to get a decent education.” Danny said, “Shouldn’t we wake up the others?”
“They’ll wake up when it’s their time. That’s another thing about this place. Are you listening to me, Danny?”
“I’m listening, Nan,” Danny said.
“I don’t need you looking after me. You hear that?”
“Yes, Nan.”
“And I want you to stop thieving, Danny. You thought I didn’t know about it, but I do. I want you to go to Cambridge. I’d be proud to have my grandson studying at Cambridge. You hear that too?”
“Yes, Nan,” Danny said. “I hear you.”
Behind him, Michael groaned and sat up. Opal stirred as well, then propped herself on one elbow. They looked around at their new surroundings. Michael seemed a lot less perplexed than Opal, whose face had taken on a look near to astonishment.
Dorothy’s fierce glare softened into the fondest of fond smiles. “You’re a good boy, Danny, really.”
Michael said briskly, “Now everyone’s awake, I suppose we’d better get on with the job of rescuing the spear.”
It was a relief not to be talking about Cambridge.
Danny said, “Any idea where to find it?”
“Shenlu Chamber, according to the Flame Lord.” Michael turned to look over the fiery lake.
“Know where that is, do you?”
Still staring out across the lake, Michael said, “I think it might be over there.”
Danny followed his gaze. Through the fire and the smoke he could see a blackened island of rock jutting perhaps twenty feet above the surface of the lake. “That’s where we find the Shenlu Chamber?”
“I think so.”
“How do we reach it?”
Michael said, “We swim.”
Danny grinned, then looked at Michael’s face and realized he was serious.
57
Sir Roland, the Shadow Project
Sir Roland Harrington was in the upstairs library when he heard the sound of gunfire. He ran to the window and looked out cautiously, standing clear of any line of fire. The floodlights had come on, a possible sign of trouble, but from the angle he was at, he could see nothing amiss. He was debating whether to shift to a more vulnerable position when the firing stopped.
Roland stood stock-still. The Project complex with its offices and operations rooms lay directly underneath the old house, which served as a disguise. The main entrance to the Project, with its massive provisions lifts and personnel elevators, was hidden in the grounds, away from prying eyes, carefully disguised in its own right, and permanently guarded. At any given time there were ten men in combat gear stationed in the bushes, armed and ready to give warning of anybody approaching too close to the entrance tunnel and even, if necessary, to act as a temporary front line of defense. These perimeter guards were issued with Belgian M249 SAWs, a particularly vicious light machine gun. Roland couldn’t be sure, but the burst of gunfire sounded as if it might have come from a SAW. If he was right, it meant the guards had fired on someone. The question was why.
