Lost Worlds (10 page)

‘I don’t doubt that.’ Calum raised an eyebrow. ‘I was just wondering why exactly you’re so confident that you can make it by yourself in a foreign
country.’

Gecko shrugged. ‘I have done it before. I used to live in France. Before that I was in Brazil. My father is dead, and my mother is working most hours in the day. I am used to being by
myself in a foreign country, and surviving.’ He frowned as a thought struck him. ‘Hey, what language do they speak in Georgia?’

‘Seventy per cent of the population speak Georgian as their first language,’ Calum replied. ‘It’s the country’s own indigenous tongue, which the Russians never
managed to eradicate when they were in control. Ten per cent speak Russian, while the remaining twenty per cent speak a variety of languages like Armenian and Azeri. English is quite widely taught
in the schools.’

‘Well, if I cannot get by in English, then I can make myself understood in Russian,’ Gecko said with some relief. ‘I learned it a while ago. I guess most of the population,
especially the older ones, will speak Russian.’

‘Make sure you speak it with an accent,’ Calum cautioned. ‘I don’t think the ethnic Georgians have much love for the Russian people.’

‘I want to go too,’ Tara said quietly.

Gecko and Calum turned to stare at her. ‘
What?
’ they asked together.

‘I said I want to go too.’ She was looking down at the sofa, but she raised her gaze towards Gecko defiantly. ‘What – you think you’re the only one with a good
reason for getting out of the country for a while? This Nemor Incorporated have got me in their sights. They won’t forget what I did – or rather, what I didn’t do – for
them.’ She glanced over at Calum. ‘I hear what you say about them having more important things to do with their time, but I don’t believe it. In my experience, big powerful
corporations get that way by always looking after the details. I’m a detail, and I don’t want to be. So I think I need to get out of the country for a while. Vanish from the
grid.’

Calum looked genuinely amazed, and Gecko felt his own jaw drop open in surprise. He wasn’t sure how he felt about having a companion on his travels. On the one hand it would slow him down,
but on the other hand it would be nice to have someone to talk to.

Calum was shaking his head, although it seemed to Gecko that there was some reluctance in the movement. ‘No, this is stupid. You’re both teenagers. I can’t ask you to go and do
this for me.’

‘You’re not asking us,’ Tara pointed out. ‘And besides,
you’re
a teenager, and if you
could
go then you would, wouldn’t you?’

Calum didn’t say anything or move his head, but the expression on his face told Gecko that Tara was right.

‘You’d need some kind of guide,’ Calum said slowly. ‘Someone who knows the area.’

‘We can find someone local,’ Gecko said, but Calum shook his head.

‘There’s no way to know whether we could trust a local guide. It would have to be someone English, someone who comes with a recommendation, who happens to know the area. Not easy to
find.’

‘But you’ve got an idea, haven’t you?’ Tara asked shrewdly.

‘I have,’ Calum agreed, ‘but I need to make a phone call . . .’

Natalie Livingstone was lying face down on one of the two single beds in the hotel room when her mother’s iPhone rang.

‘Mom!’ she called out, her voice muffled by the duvet. ‘It’s your phone!’

‘Can you answer it?’ a voice called back from the bathroom.

Natalie sighed. She reached out from her position and felt about blindly until her fingers curled round it just as it rang again, sending vibrations through her hand.

‘Yeah?’ she said into it.

‘Professor Livingstone?’ The voice was familiar: male, young, tentative.

‘No, sorry, she can’t come to the phone right now.’ She put on an exaggerated Personal Assistant voice. ‘Can I take a message?’

‘Er, yeah. It’s Calum. Calum Challenger.’

She suddenly connected the voice with the boy she’d met earlier: the one with the absurdly broad shoulders and the stupidly floppy hair, the boy who was obviously crippled but didn’t
want to use a wheelchair – which she could totally sympathize with.

She turned over so that her voice wasn’t muffled by her face-down position. ‘Oh, hi – it’s Natalie.’

‘Hi, Natalie. How are you?’

She looked around. The hotel room was four-star, of course, but it was a hotel room, just like any other. Only the view through the window changed. From here she could, if she bothered going
across to the window, see down on to Regent’s Park. Apparently there was a zoo in Regent’s Park – at least that’s what her mom had said. Natalie had replied that if she
wanted to go to a zoo then she’d magically turn herself back into a six-year-old. Her mom had snapped back that Natalie often acted like a six-year-old, and they had argued until her mom had
thrown her hands up in the air and said, ‘I haven’t got time for this. I’m going to have a bath. Don’t leave the room.’

‘Oh, I’m just peachy,’ she said.

‘Professor Livingstone cramping your style?’ he asked.

‘Like you wouldn’t believe. You don’t know how lucky you are.’ She realized what she was saying just as the words were coming out of her mouth, and if she could have
swallowed them back up she would have done. ‘Jeez, sorry. I didn’t mean . . .’

‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘I’ve got used to people saying things without thinking. In a way, that’s probably better than them trying to avoid the subject
altogether.’

‘Who is it?’ Natalie’s mom called from the bathroom.

‘It’s Calum!’ Natalie shouted back.

‘Calum
Challenger
?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Ask him what he wants. Is everything OK?’

‘She’s asking what you want,’ Natalie said into the phone. She ran a hand through her hair.

‘That’s a tricky one. Is there any chance she can ring me back?’

‘I doubt it. She’s likely to stay in there until her skin gets all wrinkly, then she’s going to spend half an hour and use an entire tub of moisturizer to make it all unwrinkly
again. And then she’s going out to dinner with a bunch of men in suits with dandruff on their shoulders while I get to spend the evening alone apart from room service and whatever movies the
hotel’s entertainment system will allow me to watch.’ For a crazy moment she thought about inviting Calum over to hang out for a while, but just for a moment. She already knew how much
effort it took for him to move around his own apartment. God knew how he would be able to get across London to the hotel.

‘Sounds like fun.’ A pause while he obviously considered his options. ‘OK, can you ask her two questions?’

‘Sure.’

‘First question – if I give her a sample of DNA, would she be able to get its entire genome sequenced and analysed for me?’

That was not the kind of question Natalie had been expecting. ‘Uh, right. let me ask.’ She moved the phone away from her mouth and yelled, ‘Mom, Calum wants to know if you can
sequence a genome for him.’

A long silence, then: ‘Why?’ her mom called back.

‘Just “because”, I guess.’ She brought the phone back to her face. ‘Did you hear that?’

‘I did. Good answer.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Tell her that I might be able to get my hands on a DNA sequence from a previously unknown animal, and I want to evaluate it for genes that might be useful, but I don’t want some big
corporation to do it. I want a university to have a crack, so that the results are available to everyone.’

‘Oh. OK.’ She moved the phone away again and called out: ‘I was right – he says “just because”.’

‘I very much doubt that’s actually what he said,’ her mom’s voice called back, ‘but yes, in
principle
, I can get it done.’

‘She says yes,’ Natalie relayed back. ‘What’s the second question?’

‘Can she recommend someone who can act as a guide in the south-eastern area of Europe, specifically Georgia?’

Taking a deep breath, Natalie relayed the question.

‘Intriguing question. Tell Calum that there’s a man I’ve used before as an expedition guide to remote areas of the world. He’s ex-Special Forces. I know he’s
visited that area of Europe. I can get him to give Calum a call, if that would be OK – as long as Calum promises to tell me what exactly he’s up to.’

‘That’s brilliant,’ Calum said as Natalie put the phone back to her ear. He’d obviously picked up the answer. ‘What’s his name?’

‘What’s his name?’ Natalie called out.

‘Gillis,’ her mom shouted. ‘I don’t know his first name, but everyone calls him “Rhino”.’

‘Sounds like a fun kinda guy,’ Natalie responded, although she wasn’t sure whether she was talking to her mom or to Calum.

‘You know, your mother is pretty amazing,’ Calum said on the phone.

‘I guess. Was there anything else you wanted?’

‘No. Oh, wait – yes, there is.’ Calum paused for a moment. Natalie got the impression that he was trying to phrase a question in the right way. ‘Can you ask her if she
knows about a company called Nemor Incorporated?’

‘Mom – Calum wants to know if you’ve heard of a company called Nemor Incorporated.’

Natalie suddenly heard a lot of splashing from the bathroom. A few seconds later her mother appeared, wrapping herself in a towel. The expression on her face was . . . concerned? Angry? Maybe a
combination of both.

Gillian Livingstone snatched the phone from her daughter’s hand.

‘Calum – this is Gillian. We need to talk. I’ve got a dinner tonight that I can’t miss, so we’ll be over at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.’

A pause while Calum obviously said something.

‘Very well, after lunch then. Give your great-aunt my regards. And, Calum – don’t do
anything
between now and then.’

She ended the call and stared out of the window.

‘What
has
he got himself into this time?’ she muttered, as if Natalie wasn’t there.

S
unrise was shining horizontally across the city when Calum woke up. It cast the canyons between the buildings into deep shadow but caught the tops
of those same buildings with rosy highlights.

Calum didn’t need an alarm. Whatever time he told himself to wake up just before settling down to sleep, that’s the time his eyes opened.

For a few minutes he lay in bed, letting the vague ghosts of his dreams fade away. He felt vaguely sad. He had dreamed about running again. He could still remember the sensation of rushing
through a field of wheat, letting the tall stems thrash against his body and the wind push his hair back from his forehead. He could still feel the impact of his feet against the soft soil.

Those were feelings that he might never experience again, unless he could somehow cure the paralysis that had affected his legs since the car crash. He knew the odds of the Almasti’s
genetic structure containing the answer were slim, but it was a start. If not the Almasti, then some other unknown inhabitant of planet Earth’s more remote regions would hold the answer. He
was sure of it.

And that meant there was something he had to do.

He pulled himself to a sitting position and reached for his mobile phone. He pressed the number 1 and held it down until the phone dredged a telephone number from its memory.

‘Yes?’ a deep voice said.

‘Mr Macfarlane – it’s Calum Challenger. Sorry to trouble you. Could I have the car round as soon as possible?’

‘Of course, sir,’ Macfarlane’s voice said. He didn’t even sound surprised, even though Calum hadn’t spoken to him for months. ‘It’s no trouble at all. I
take it you will be visiting your great-aunt?’

‘That’s correct.’

‘Will you be needing the—’

‘Yes,’ Calum interrupted. He didn’t like hearing the word. ‘Bring it. You know the code to get in.’

‘I do, sir. I’ll be there in forty-five minutes.’ A dialling tone replaced his voice.

Calum put the mobile back on his bedside cabinet. He pulled himself out of bed and swung across the apartment to the bathroom. Thirty minutes later he was showered and dressed, and preparing
breakfast.

Forty-four minutes and fifty seconds after he had put the phone down he heard the bell of his front door chime. ‘Come in!’ he yelled. Whoever was outside typed a set of numbers into
the security system, and the door opened.

‘Good morning, sir,’ said the man standing in the doorway. ‘It’s good to see you again.’ He was short – very short – and bald, and he wore a three-piece
suit that had obviously either been made to measure for him or had originally been intended for a chunky twelve-year-old attending a bar mitzvah or acting as a pageboy at his sister’s
wedding. His deep voice was completely at odds with his size.

And he was pushing a wheelchair in front of him.

‘Good morning, Mr Macfarlane,’ Calum responded. The sight of the wheelchair provoked a sinking feeling in his stomach. He hated it. He hated everything that it represented. The
trouble was that the world outside the walls of his apartment was not designed for him. There were no straps hanging from ceilings, and no convenient places to lean, or to sit. That’s why he
didn’t leave his apartment if he could possibly help it.

The trouble was that Merrily Challenger – his father’s aunt – didn’t like Skype, or any form of conversation that didn’t take place with two people in a room
together. Preferably with a pot of tea and a plate of cakes.

‘Are you ready, sir?’ Macfarlane enquired.

‘I suppose,’ he grunted.

He pulled himself to his feet and swung across to the door. Reluctantly he lowered himself into the wheelchair. ‘Let’s go,’ he sighed.

As the door closed behind them, and as Macfarlane pressed the button to call the lift, Calum listened out for the
clunk
as the security system locked the door behind them, and the
beep
as the alarm activated. That should keep everything safe until Gecko returned to repair the skylight.

As the two of them descended in the lift, Calum found himself wondering why it was that he had taken to Gecko so quickly. Gecko and Tara. The three of them seemed to fit together in some
fundamentally simple way, as if they were parts of some greater whole and had been seeking each other out without realizing it. He felt comfortable with them. Relaxed. And that wasn’t a
feeling he normally got around other people. Neither of them appeared to pity him because of his paralysis. In fact, they both seemed to hardly notice it, which was the way he liked it.