The Crystal Code (24 page)

‘It's like a ghost ship,' Felicity said as they completed a circuit of the house and returned to the kitchen. ‘Like no one has lived here for a hundred years.'

‘Do you have to use that word?' Sam shivered.

‘What word?'

‘Ghost.'

Gerald shook his head in frustration. ‘I don't get it,' he said. ‘Why the security if there's nothing here to guard.'

‘Maybe there's another building on the property,' Felicity said. ‘We should keep looking.'

Gerald leaned his back against a wall and slid to the floorboards. ‘I just keep thinking about Ruby and how she—' He stopped mid-thought. A strange expression washed over his face.

‘What is it?' Felicity asked him.

Gerald cocked his head to the side. ‘My bum's warm,' he said.

Sam narrowed his eyes. ‘Pardon me?'

‘My bum's warm.' Gerald put his palms flat to the wooden floor. ‘The whole floor is warm.' Then he jumped to his feet. ‘The chimney!'

Sam still looked confused. ‘What about the chimney?'

‘There shouldn't be one,' Gerald said. ‘Did you see a fireplace? There aren't any. It should be as cold as death in here.' He jumped to his feet and pulled open a pair of doors under the sink.

‘What are you looking for?' Felicity said.

Gerald had a quick look inside the bare cupboard. ‘Answers.'

Felicity and Sam exchanged puzzled looks and followed Gerald into the next room. He pulled open a broom cupboard and dropped to his knees to inspect the floor inside.

‘Gerald?' Felicity said.

‘The smoke from the chimney outside,' Gerald said, running his fingers around the edge of the walls. Then, to himself, ‘Nothing here.' He darted into the next room. ‘The heat under the floorboards must be coming from somewhere.' He looked around the space and shook his head. Then he went into the final room, which could at one stage in the house's history have been a bedroom. In the corner stood an ancient timber wardrobe. Gerald turned the handle and opened the door. His eyes lit up.

‘Here we go,' he said.

‘What is it?' Sam asked, looking over Gerald's shoulder.

Gerald knelt down and poked an index finger through a knothole in the wardrobe floor. He lifted clear a large square of timber sheeting. A burst of heat funnelled up through a square opening in the floor, as if he'd opened an oven door.

Gerald, Sam and Felicity peered down a narrow shaft that disappeared deep into the ground.

Chapter 33

G
erald stuffed the pistol into the waistband of his pants and lowered himself into the hole in the floor. They had agreed that there would be no more talking. And that they would not leave until they had found Ruby.

A metal ladder ran down the length of the shaft. Hand over hand, Gerald started the descent. Warmth radiated from the rungs. Gerald hated the cold as much as anyone, but he couldn't imagine why Brahe would need to have it so hot, especially the way he sweated.

Gerald glanced up to see Felicity and Sam following him. The shaft emptied out to a bare antechamber, carved into the island bedrock. Gerald jumped to the ground and unzipped his jacket. The heat was oppressive.

Sam and Felicity joined him. They were both perspiring. Sam wiped the sweat from his forehead and gave Gerald a ‘what's this all about, then?' look.

Gerald shrugged, and pointed to a door in the far wall. There was a window in the top half. The three of them edged across to peek through.

A gasp escaped Felicity's lips.

On the other side of the door was a scene straight from a medieval torture chamber.

An enormous brick furnace, like a giant circular kiln, dominated the room. There were half a dozen arched doorways around its circumference. Flames licked its insides, painting the chamber blood red. A single chimneystack poked from the top and soared up and through the high vaulted ceiling.

Little wonder there was so much heat radiating up to the cottage above, Gerald thought. The only thing missing from the scene was a ring of horned demons fashioning horseshoes on hell-blackened anvils.

The chamber walls were lined with wooden pens, housing an array of animals: horses, cows, goats, pigs. It was like someone had sunk a barn into the mouth of a volcano.

Then Gerald saw them. Locked in an iron cage at the far end of the chamber.

Alisha.

Ox.

And…

Gerald couldn't help himself. He saw her face, pink from the heat. He broke his silence. ‘Ruby.'

Without thinking, he pulled the door open and ran. It was a good twenty metres across to the cage but Gerald couldn't remember his feet touching the ground. He skidded up to the iron bars and thrust his arms through, wrapping them around his startled friend.

‘Oh my gosh, Gerald.' Ruby's voice came out muffled through the folds of Gerald's jacket. ‘Let me go.'

Gerald squeezed her harder. He was never going to let her go again.

Ruby pummelled punches onto Gerald's chest. ‘Let. Me. Go!'

She pushed hard and finally broke free of his grasp.

Gerald stumbled back a step and was shocked by the look on Ruby's face. All colour had drained from her cheeks. ‘What?' he said.

Ruby swallowed and pointed over Gerald's shoulder. ‘Behind you,' she whispered.

Gerald was turning as the words left her mouth. His eyes filled with the sight of a coal shovel swinging fast at his head.

Gerald ducked. The shovel blade brushed the top of his hair as it whistled past. Pugly nearly smacked himself on the head with the follow-through. He swung again. Gerald threw himself backwards, avoiding a hit to the chin by millimetres.

Gerald sprawled across the floor, wriggling left then right as Pugly rained blows down at him. Each time, the metal blade hit stone, striking sparks into the air. Gerald was vaguely aware of his name being shouted, of the rattling of iron bars. But all his attention was directed towards avoiding a fatal meeting with the back of the shovel.

He tried to scramble to his feet. But a hefty swing of the blade connected with his ankle. A searing pain bulleted up his calf as his legs were swept from under him. He landed heavily on his right shoulder. His eyes popped at a sharp
crack
.

Gerald knew in an instant—his collarbone had snapped. His left hand shot to the opposite shoulder as he rolled onto his back. Fire pulsed through his body. He looked up to see Brahe's man staring down at him, a glint of triumph in his eyes.

Gerald took in a huge breath. With the last of his strength he rolled to the right. Rockets of pain exploded in his eyes as he put weight onto his busted shoulder. His left hand ducked around to his waistband to grab for the pistol.

It wasn't there.

It must have fallen out during the struggle. Gerald rolled flat to the floor, spent.

His breath came in painful bursts. Pugly loomed above with the shovel poised over his shoulder like a batter at home plate. He tensed, about to take one final swing, when Felicity appeared behind him. She pressed the stun gun into Pugly's neck, and pulled the trigger.

The result was instantaneous. A crackle of electricity sent Pugly into a violent convulsion. He hit the floor like a sack of coal with a twitchy leg.

Felicity dropped to her knees at Gerald's side, placing a hand on his injured shoulder. He winced at the touch.

‘Are we quite finished?' The voice was calm but assertive. Gerald turned his head. Tycho Brahe was standing by the furnace. He had the pistol, and he held it pressed into Sam's ribs.

Brahe's face was awash with sweat. He reached into his pocket and tossed a set of keys to Felicity. ‘Open the cage,' he instructed. He shoved Sam towards Ruby, Ox and Alisha. ‘I expect you have some catching up to do.'

Chapter 34

G
erald sat propped against the stone wall. His right arm was strapped across his chest in a makeshift sling fashioned from Sam's jumper. Ox, Alisha and Ruby had stripped down to T-shirts but were still perspiring in the heat. Felicity sat by Gerald's side, worry written on her face.

‘We were grabbed by Brahe's men right after we escaped the avalanche,' Alisha said. She reached out and took Ox by the hand. ‘Oswald and I were thrown into the back of a helicopter, and then into a private jet. We've been down in this hellhole for I don't know how many days. It's been stifling.'

‘Oswald?' Gerald said, cocking an eye at his old school friend.

The pink in Ox's cheeks turned two shades brighter. ‘Alisha doesn't like my nickname,' he mumbled. ‘She thinks it's disrespectful.'

‘Does she?' Sam said, raising his eyebrows. ‘That's very considerate of her.'

Alisha shot Sam a filthy glare. ‘Oh, grow up,' she said. ‘You could learn a lot from Oswald. Maybe you should be concentrating on how to get out of here.'

Gerald suppressed a grin. Alisha was right, of course. But still—he looked at Alisha patting the back of Ox's hand. Alisha and Ox! Who would have thought?

‘What is this place?' Felicity asked.

‘We haven't seen him much,' Ox said, his voice low. He glanced over his shoulder. Brahe was bent over a workbench, fussing with a complicated arrangement of flasks and titration tubes. Pugly was hard at work, shovelling coal through one of the arched doorways, deep into the heart of the furnace. ‘He comes and goes,' Ox said. ‘But he seems to be working on a chemical creation of some sort.'

Felicity nodded. ‘We think it's the universal remedy,' she said. ‘A medicine that can cure everything.'

Alisha was taken aback. ‘Cure everything? Surely that's a good thing,' she said. ‘Why all this secrecy and kidnapping if he's making something that could help millions of people?'

Gerald tried to sit straighter. He winced at the movement. ‘That's the problem,' he said. ‘Felicity thinks the recipe calls for one special ingredient.' He paused, looking from Felicity to Alisha and then to Ruby. ‘The heart of a young girl.'

Alisha rocked back. ‘That's absurd!' she said. ‘Why would anyone believe that?'

‘Because it works.' Brahe's voice carried across to them from his workbench. ‘And I am living proof.'

He swung around to face them. His face was soaked in perspiration. Despite the heat blasting from the furnace, his skin was wax pale.

Gerald was shocked at the change in Brahe since the first time he'd seen him, in the butterfly house at Jasper Mantle's estate in England. All the colour had leached from his face, as if his life force had drained away. In its place was a cadaverous pallor, as plain and lifeless as any slab of marble in the morgue.

‘What do you mean?' Gerald said.

Brahe leaned on the bench, as if the act of breathing was an effort. He let loose a liquid cough.

‘Oh yes,' Sam said. ‘He's the picture of health.' Ruby shushed him.

‘I mean, Mr Wilkins, that I know the secret of the universal remedy. I have denied death for four hundred years. And I will keep doing it, again and again.' Another burst of coughing wracked his chest.

Behind Brahe, Pugly kept feeding coal into the furnace. Fire and fumes belched from the six archways.

‘He's a complete nutter,' Sam said. Ruby shushed him again.

Felicity rattled the bars of their cage. ‘Are you saying you're the same Tycho Brahe that served in the court of King Rudolph? That's ridiculous.'

Brahe drew back his shoulders. ‘I am Tycho Brahe,' he declared in a voice far stronger than his appearance suggested possible. ‘I am the melder of mercury and lead. I am the creator of gold. I am the cartographer of stars and planets. I am Astrologer Royal to the court of King Rudolph II of Bohemia, Holy Roman Emperor and ruler of all the civilised peoples of Europe. I am his confidant, his alchemist, his adviser. And as possessor of the universal remedy, I am, by right, his successor.' His voice rose if he was addressing a rally of ten thousand, rather than six bedraggled kids and a barnful of farm animals.

Ruby dipped her head low. ‘Is he seriously saying he's the king of Europe? Sam's right. He is a nutter.' This time, Gerald shushed Ruby. He had spotted a large knife on Brahe's workbench. It was best to keep the man talking.

‘What about all those graves with your name on them?' Gerald said. ‘The one in the church in Prague, and in the cemetery in Hadanka? Why would someone who has cheated death need two graves?'

Brahe stiffened and wiped an unsteady hand across his forehead. ‘I am the possessor of the universal remedy,' he said. ‘I have denied death for four centuries.'

Felicity rattled the bars again. ‘If you've had that remedy for four hundred years, why have you been running around Europe trying to find it again?'

‘That's a good point,' Gerald said. ‘If you're the real Tycho Brahe why do you need the Voynich Manuscript to get the recipe for your potion? Why go to all this trouble to decipher the code when you're supposedly the man who has it already?'

Alisha joined Felicity at the cage bars. ‘Is that what you've been doing to the animals down here? Testing different recipes on them to see if they work? Is that what this place is? A test lab?' She turned to the others. ‘You should see the number of dead animals that have been dragged out of here in the past few days.'

Brahe turned back to his equipment. He took a pinch of powder from a dish and threw it into a bubbling pot. A purple flash exploded from the surface.

‘It is almost ready,' Brahe said. He picked up a ragged manuscript and consulted the top sheet. ‘Just one item to go.' He reached for the knife on the benchtop.

Gerald's eyes grew wide. ‘You can't do this,' he yelled. ‘You can't take a life to lengthen your own. It's unthinkable.'

Brahe lifted the knife and held its broad silver blade to the light. ‘Not at all,' he said. ‘What do you think war is all about?'

‘But that's not the same,' Gerald said. ‘No one is threatening you. We're not trying to kill you.'

‘If one of these girls dies, I live,' Brahe said. ‘It's completely rational.' Brahe took a step towards the cage. ‘When I get the formula just right, I'll release the remedy to the world. I'll extend to all mankind the ability to cure all sickness. Cancer, dementia, diabetes—all cured. No one would lose a loved one again. Funerals and tears would be a thing of the past. I will be the ultimate doctor. The only doctor the world will ever need. Isn't that worth the sacrifice of one life—a life that will end one day anyway?'

A silence fell over the chamber. Even the animals in their stalls were quiet.

‘Wouldn't you do that, Gerald? Give one life to help a million? Not to mention the time it gives. Imagine if the world's greatest scientists, artists and musicians could extend their careers by centuries. Imagine the advances that would deliver for all mankind. All from the gift of one child.'

Gerald stared at Brahe and the knife in his hand. He was clearly mad. But was there some sense in what he said? Was the loss of one to benefit the world a worthy sacrifice?

‘This is insanity.' Ruby rushed up to the cage door, pushing Felicity and Alisha aside. ‘Listen to what you're saying. You can't seriously believe all this rubbish about living forever. All this rot about Rudolph and his court.'

Brahe's face blanched. He strode up to the cage. ‘Don't talk to me about Rudolph! What do you know of him?'

Ruby glared defiance. ‘Rudolph?' she said. ‘Didn't he have a very shiny nose?'

Brahe's eyes bulged with anger. In an instant he had the cage door unlocked and a hand wrapped around Ruby's wrist. He wrenched down, hard. Ruby screamed in pain. Brahe slashed out with the knife, forcing Sam, Ox, Alisha and Felicity to the back wall with Gerald. Before they could move again, Brahe had locked the door and was hauling Ruby across the floor.

Ruby's shrieks were joined by cries from inside the cage. Gerald and the others rushed the bars, trying to break free. The animals in their pens, sensing danger, raised a ruckus, a cacophony of barnyard bleating and braying.

Brahe didn't pause for a second. He dragged Ruby like a caveman with his conquest. She kicked and writhed but to no effect. Brahe tossed her onto a stainless-steel bench as if she was no more than a sack of onions.

Pugly strapped Ruby's arms and legs down with broad leather bands. She fought back but the binds held firm. She cried each time she moved her wrenched left wrist—sobs that seemed to urge her to greater resistance. But her efforts were futile.

‘More heat.' Brahe turned to his assistant. ‘The crucible must be kept at the right temperature to bring about the reaction.' A vat the size of a hot tub bubbled with molten metals and flux.

Pugly shovelled more coal into the furnace. The temperature in the chamber rose ever higher.

Sam rushed the cage gate with his shoulder, rattling it on its hinges. Alisha and Felicity screamed for Brahe to stop. Ox and Gerald pounded on the lock plate. But nothing worked.

Brahe called out to Pugly. ‘Keep them quiet,' he said. ‘They're disturbing the other animals.'

Pugly dropped his shovel and crossed to the cage. He pointed the handgun in Gerald's face. The chamber was silent.

Drops of perspiration ran from Brahe's brow down his silver nose, and onto Ruby's face. She turned her cheek, trying to avoid the foul stream.

Brahe blinked the sweat from his eyes. ‘I have so much to achieve, so much to do.'

Ruby eyed the blade in Brahe's hand and strained again at her bonds. ‘Please don't,' she said. ‘So do I.'

She was drenched in perspiration. Her clothes clung to her as if she'd been caught in a summer storm.

Brahe put a steel bowl at Ruby's side. ‘I will make this as painless as possible,' he said. And raised the knife in the air.

Ruby arched her back, hauling at the straps.

Sweat washed across Brahe's face. He placed a hand on the collar of Ruby's T-shirt, and pulled.

The fabric tore.

The blade turned.

Brahe's nose shifted on his face. The sweat was washing it loose. Ruby's good wrist, slick with perspiration, slipped its bonds.

The nose dropped free.

In a flash, Ruby snatched the lump of silver in mid-air, just centimetres from her face. Then, in a backhanded swipe, she wielded the pointed nose tip like a blunt weapon. It connected with Brahe's temple. The blow knocked him senseless and sent him sprawling across the steel bench.

By the cage, the sight of Brahe sliding towards the vat of bubbling metal caught Pugly by surprise. He turned his head for a second.

It was all Felicity needed.

She pulled Ruby's scarf from her pocket. Holding each end, she threw it over Pugly's head. She whipped the scarf tight, catching him around the throat and crashing him hard into the cage bars.

‘Drop the gun,' Felicity whispered into his ear. Pugly's body convulsed, struggling for breath. ‘Or I'll rip your head off.'

The gun clattered onto the stone floor.

Ruby was sitting up, unbuckling the straps at her feet. She looked across at Brahe, slumped on the edge of the bench. He was just centimetres from the lip of the bubbling crucible. The heat of the furnace was almost cooking them.

Ruby clambered onto her knees, bumping her wrist. She let out a cry of animal intensity. Her shirt was torn and her face was stained with sweat and grime. She shuffled over to where Brahe was lying. Her eyes were a blank mirror of intent. She reached out and peeled Brahe's fingers, one by one, from around the handle of the knife. And took the weapon into her own hand.

Gerald smacked Pugly over the back of his head. ‘The keys,' he demanded. ‘Where are the keys?'

The man's fingers clutched at the furled scarf that was pulled taut across his windpipe like a garrote. He could barely croak, ‘Pocket.'

Ruby clutched the knife handle tight. She nursed her shattered left wrist in her lap. And she put the edge of the silver blade to Brahe's exposed throat.

‘Ruby?'

Gerald crawled up onto the benchtop beside her—two friends, kneeling together as if at prayer. He looked at her flushed face, her hair plastered to her forehead. She didn't shift her gaze from the unconscious face of Tycho Brahe.

Again, she slid the blade across the soft skin beneath Brahe's beard, as if giving him a shave.

‘Ruby?' Gerald said again.

‘He was going to kill me.' Ruby spoke softly. Deliberately. ‘He was going to slice me open and take my heart.'

‘Ruby.' Gerald reached out and laid his hand on her arm. Her skin was on fire, burning with the intensity of the furnace. ‘You can't kill him.'

Ruby turned the blade, moving the point onto a vein that ran the length of Brahe's neck. A bead of blood formed at its tip. ‘Why not?' she said. ‘Using his logic, if he dies, I live. That's what he said. That's how he justified what he was going to do.' Her eyes fixed on the red bubble as it expanded on Brahe's skin. ‘Isn't that how everyone behaves, anyway? Who cares what happens to you as long as I'm okay. I'm the centre of the universe and the sun revolves around me.'

Gerald leaned in closer and put his arm around Ruby's shoulders. ‘I thought the sun shone out of my backside.'

The edges of Ruby's mouth twitched up. ‘Don't,' she said. ‘Don't make me laugh.'

Gerald squeezed a little tighter. ‘A very smart person once said to me that hurting someone, even an evil person, would make me no better than they were. Do you remember that?'

Ruby gave a tight nod. The confrontation with Sir Mason Green in the burial chamber under Beaconsfield seemed so long ago.