Engineman (44 page)

He screamed...

... And was still screaming when the encompassing darkness faded, and he found himself in the restricted confines of his physical form.

He was sitting up, and Ghaine was kneeling before him, grasping his hands. Mirren ceased his shouting, worked to regain his breath. "It... it was-" Words could not describe the horror of the experience, the residual sense of desolation that lingered in him still.

For the first time, Mirren became aware of a distant rumble, a shudder that shook the
Sublime
.

Ghaine responded to his alarmed expression. "The militia have been attacking us for the past thirty minutes," he said. "They cannot know precisely where we are, just approximately. They are levelling the mountainside. Many of the Temple's upper chambers have been destroyed, but we are deep within the mountain. With luck-"

"How long have I been under?" Mirren asked.

"Almost two hours."

"Then we should be phasing-out!"

"There are difficulties," said the Lho. "Your men are working hard, but they have encountered problems."

An explosion, seemingly directly overhead, rent the air and shook the 'ship. A fall of rock crashed against the astrodome. It cracked with a sound like splitting ice. The
Sublime
yawed, pitching Mirren and Ghaine across the floor. Shards of plastex rained down; a triangular section of dome fell, narrowly missing an Effectuator.

"We've got to get them out of here," Mirren said. "If the 'ship phases-out now we'll all asphyxiate."

"Where to?" Ghaine asked, climbing to his feet and helping Mirren up.

"There's a chamber on the deck below this one. They'll be safe there. We can seal the dome at the air-lock."

Ghaine spoke to the attendants; already they were lifting the stretchers, making their way unsteadily across the dome to the sliding door of the elevator as the barrage continued and the
Sublime
rocked beneath the onslaught.

Mirren opened the elevator, helped load three Effectuators and their attendants. He sent them down to the next level, willing the attendants to hurry and vacate the cage. More explosions crashed overhead. Rock rained down on the dome and the body of the 'ship.

The elevator emptied. He stabbed the command for it to return, and when the door slid open he hauled aboard the three remaining Effectuators. This time he and the rest of the Lho rode down with them, squashed together as the booth rocked back and forth. The door opened on the central chamber and he ensured that the Effectuators were safely housed.

He took the down-chute to the engine-room, holding onto the rail as the
Sublime
pitched like a sea-going ship in a storm.

The engine-room was full of Disciples gathered around the flux-tank and the co-pilot's command web. Mirren staggered across to the tank. "Who's in there?"

Dan Leferve turned, smiled tightly. "Bobby."

"Why the hell aren't we phasing?"

Dan indicated through the viewscreen. Mirren stumbled across to the screen. Beyond, in the chamber, two Enginewomen and an Engineman worked frantically at a bank of computers, occasionally looking up and across at the
Sublime
as if willing it to disappear. The lights illuminating the tableau flickered, for a few seconds going off altogether. Mirren held his breath until the light stuttered back on, picking out the three figures still at their posts. Another explosion shook the chamber. It seemed only a matter of time before the technicians were lost beneath the falling debris.

He heard Miguelino, in his command web, yelling out the phase-out sequence for perhaps the third time in as many minutes, an edge of desperation in his voice.

Mirren was aware of someone by his side - Ella Hunter. The 'ship bucked. He held her to prevent her from falling. Outside, the floor of the chamber began to break up; the surface erupted, throwing up great slabs of rock as unsteady as ice-floes. Still the technicians battled on.

"They don't stand a chance!" Ella cried.

"They're going to a greater thing," Mirren told her.

She looked at him, fear in her eyes. "I hope you're right," she whispered.

"I know I'm right," Mirren said.

The
Sublime
slid sideways as the ground beneath it subsided. The technicians fell into the darkness. Mirren and Ella were dashed against the screen. They fetched up against the padded recess, holding onto each other as if their lives depended on it. A low-pitched hum sounded through the 'ship. Mirren prayed that the blackness outside would vanish for just one second, to indicate that phase-out was under way.

He held Ella to him, and in that second he experienced for the first time the realisation that within her, and consequently within everyone, existed the same vital energy he had first encountered in the continuum. He almost wept with the joy of it. He vowed that if he returned to Earth, he would live his life not as he had lived it to date, but as it was meant to be lived - for however long he had left to him - until the day of his glorious ascension.

When
I return to Earth, he told himself... The alternative was too terrible to contemplate.

The humming gained in pitch, but outside the darkness remained.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Hirst Hunter leaned forward. "Very good, Mr Rossilini."

"Here?"

"This will suit me fine."

The Mercedes rolled to a sedate halt. Hunter climbed out. Rossilini and Sassoon jumped out after him, but perhaps sensing his need for privacy remained beside the roadster, their semi-automatic rifles prominent.

Hunter strolled across the weed-laced tarmac and climbed the grass embankment that marked the boundary of Ipoh airbase. The midday Malaysian heat and the steep incline combined to rob him of breath. By the time he reached the top he was exhausted, an indication of how little exercise he had done over the past few years - years spent closeted in safe-houses, plotting and scheming, unable in the early years even to join the resistance on their missions for fear of capture and interrogation, and later because there was just so much organising to do to ensure the success of the mission.

He turned at the top and stared across the airbase. He had left Paris that morning, taking the sub-orb shuttle to Kuala Lumpur on what he hoped would be the last leg of the long journey that had taken him around the many free worlds of the Rim, and then to Earth. So far, things were running smoothly. The
Sublime
had phased-out from Paris without a hitch, and ten hours into the flight, when contact was eventually lost, no problems had been reported. Feasibly they should have rendezvoused with the Disciples and the Lho in the mountain stronghold without much difficulty, and should make the return trip to Earth likewise. The real danger had always been the possibility that the Organisation might have learnt of his plans
before
the phase-out of the 'ship and prevented it; now that the mission was under way, in fact almost completed, he could stop worrying himself about the possibility of a Danzig intervention. Not that he was being complacent; the airbase was patrolled by Malaysian commandos supplied by the Premier of the state - foot-soldiers and tanks were stationed at strategic points around the perimeter.

Hunter stared out across the flat expense of the airbase. The only prominence on the sky-line, other than the distant hills, was the massive hangar he'd had constructed for the return of the smallship. Next to it was a mylaplex geodesic dome, its triangular facets blacked out.

He glanced at his watch. The dignitaries were due to arrive at one, in a little over fifteen minutes. Besides the KVO Director Jose Delgardo, the UC representative on Earth, Johan Weiner, and the Premier of Malaysia, the heads of three other interface companies would be present. The participation of these three luminaries, cajoled into coming by the good offices of Delgardo, was a bonus Hunter had not expected. It seemed, though he was loath to tempt providence, that the events of the next few hours might prove the beginning of the end of all his hard work. For years he had schemed and sweated for this very day - for years he had lived in fear of the many dangers that might have befallen the mission. Now everything was going according to plan, and he should have been elated.

He told himself that the despair he was feeling was irrational, that he was grieving for the loss of someone he had never really known - or, rather, grieving over the loss of opportunity to get to know Ella in the first place. Early that morning, Hunter had heard from Disciples on A-Long-Way-From-Home that his daughter had indeed gained access to the Reach. The authorities there could only have allowed her entry because they knew that she was his daughter, and either hoped she might lead them to him or could provide vital information as to his whereabouts. They would question her, keep her alive only for as long as she was useful to them - and, as she knew nothing, Hunter guessed that that would not be very long.

She was now, or was soon likely to be, in a better place than this illusion. Her essence would exist in a state of eternal vitality, for which he should rejoice.

Selfishly, he could only mourn the fact that he had never been able to show Ella, in this life, the love she deserved.

He sat down on the embankment and took a small silver book from his jacket pocket. He leafed through Ella's diary, the pages falling open where he had inserted the half dozen photographs of his daughter.

At random, he read entries written in her big, looping hand-writing, and it pained him to realise that this would be as close as he would come to knowing the mind of his daughter. It pained him also - though it came as no surprise - that all the entries concerning him were detrimental.

'Last day of holidays, and I haven't seen H once. Good. Back to college tomorrow.'

He turned the page.

'Jay's father is coming with us on the summer trip - that should be good. Mrs T asked me if H could come along to lend a hand, but I said he was off-planet working for the Organisation. I couldn't imagine it! H coming on the trip!'

He let the diary fall open to a later entry, one he had read so many times over the years that he knew it verbatim.

'Yesterday the alien saved my life! I was watching it from the rocks when he saw me and I lost my balance and fell into the water, on the way down hitting my head on some rock. When I came to my senses I was on the flat rock, thinking I should have drowned. Then I saw him looking at me and I knew he had saved me. I was frightened - I mean, he was so
alien
, so different. I ran. H has stopped me from going out for one week for not being at the party. I want to see the alien again, to apologise (does he speak English?) I'm planning to make him something, a present. I sit and think that if it wasn't for the alien I'd be dead, and I try to think what being dead is like.'

Hunter looked up, saw nothing but his daughter as she was then. He turned a couple of pages, read on.

'Today I saw L'Endo on his death-bed, and instead of it being a sad occasion (he was dying of a plague) it was
joyous
. L'Endo was actually celebrating the fact that he was dying. In five days he has his
passing
ceremony, and I am invited. He was so
certain
an afterlife awaited him - I felt his certainty in the air! - that I felt almost at one with my dying friend. I can't begin to explain it. The old Lho said that the only humans who understand what the Lho believe are the Enginemen and Enginewomen. If the Lho are right, then when I die I will experience the afterlife, which is what the Disciples believe.'

One of Ella's last entries read, 'As soon as I can I'm leaving the reach and going to Earth, to Paris to paint and
live
and convert...'

Hunter closed the diary, a sharp knot of pain in his chest.

He considered the beautiful irony of the situation.

Ten years ago, an alien had saved his daughter's life; as a result of this, she had experienced something in the cave where the alien lay on his death-bed that had changed her life, given her the desire to convert and become a Disciple. Three years later she did so, and sent photographic evidence of the fact to Hunter, and he had looked into the religion himself and in due course was converted. Then he was contacted by the Lho and commissioned with the duty to see through the scheme which would not only save the remaining Lho-Dharvon people, but ensure the continuance of what humans knew as the
nada
-continuum.

How wondrous a notion it was that the salvation of the Lho people, and much more besides, had its beginnings in the actions of an alien saving the life of a young girl, so long ago and so far away.

Hunter looked up. Rossilini was standing at the foot of the embankment. He cleared his throat. "Excuse me, sir."

Across the tarmac, a convoy of limousines was heading towards the hangar. The dignitaries had arrived.

He replaced the diary in his jacket pocket and returned to the Mercedes. They drove back to the hangar in silence, Hunter trying to dredge up a scintilla of enthusiasm for what was about to take place.

The last of the dignitaries was being ushered into the hangar by one of Hunter's aides. He followed them inside, check-listing the points he had to make to the VIPs.

The interior of the chamber was divided into two unequal areas. The larger was bare but for banks of computers and sophisticated monitoring equipment; technicians wearing headphones moved about the area where the smallship was due to materialise, making last minute preparations. Like Hunter, these people had worked for years to bring about the success of the mission. If anything, their contribution was greater than his; they had, after all, wrestled with the complex technical problems of launching the first smallship to enter the
nada
-continuum in ten years.