The Disappearances (13 page)

He could never talk to Evie, either. All those years, all those years of longing, and he’d never been able to say a single thing that didn’t sound forced, formal, cold. No wonder she’d hated him for all that time; he’d seen it in her eyes, seen the contempt so clearly. And he hadn’t even blamed her. He’d felt contempt for himself, too.

Sometimes he wished he’d left it at that; sometimes he wished he hadn’t revealed himself to her, hadn’t seen her eyes change, hadn’t felt her lips on his, hadn’t allowed himself to imagine what life might be like.

‘Right,’ he said, forcing a little smile, wondering if he should make some gesture, a hand shake, a squeeze of the shoulder, then deciding against it.

‘Find me before you go,’ Martha said as he started to walk out of the room. ‘I need to tell you the directions. I’m not allowed to write them down. Come and get me and I’ll talk you through it.’

Lucas didn’t hang around. There was no reason to. Instead, he showered, packed up some more food, listened carefully to Martha’s directions, then left, before the other men got back. Martha had done her best to bandage up his feet but then he couldn’t fit his shoes back on, so she’d reluctantly taken the bandages off again, leaving his blisters, still raw and red, to chafe against the leather of his brogues.

Her directions were complicated – Lucas realised he would never have found Linus without them – but also faultless; almost exactly two hours after leaving Base Camp, Lucas came across the rocky hills that she’d told him to look out for. Then, he walked clockwise around them until he saw a hole, about ten foot wide, leading into the caves below. Apparently this was Linus’s home.

Uncertainly, Lucas stepped inside the tunnel and started to walk. It smelt dank; the light was limited and several times he stumbled on rocks. After about 100 feet, he stopped as the tunnel swung round to the right. Then he called out.

‘Linus. It’s Lucas.’

He waited.

‘Linus, it’s Lucas,’ he called again after a few minutes; still nothing.

Lucas turned the corner and started to walk. Had the Informers got to Linus? Had they found him? No, impossible. But then where was he? Martha had told him that Linus never left the cave. Never. The floor was now slippery under foot, covered in slime and moisture. He held out his hands, using the walls of the cave as support and to guide him. The tunnel was almost dark; what little light there was made the rock luminescent but didn’t afford a glimpse of what lay a few feet ahead.

After slipping several times, Lucas dropped down onto his hands and knees to crawl along the dank floor; every few minutes he told himself that he had gone into the wrong tunnel, that he should turn back, but he didn’t stop. It was the right tunnel. He had followed Martha’s instructions to the letter. Lucas did his best to shake off his fears as he pushed forwards. Rocks grazed his palms, dug into his knees, but he ignored the pain. He had to get to Linus. Had to …

His hand stretched forward into nothing; his body, ready to rest its weight on the hand, tipped forwards. Desperately Lucas pulled himself back and somehow managed to stop himself falling. Then he looked down and his mouth fell open. In front of him, twenty feet down below, was what looked like the System Operating room back at the City. Large computers, their screens all illuminated, chairs, desks … And Linus sitting at one of them, a beard reaching down several inches from his chin. Linus’s hand shot up.

‘Lucas,’ he said, not looking up. ‘Just give me a minute will you? I’m in the middle of something.’

Lucas stared at him open-mouthed. ‘Linus?’ he gasped.

‘One minute,’ Linus cut in, a note of irritation in his voice.

Lucas frowned, then he counted to three in his head, a technique he had learnt many years ago and employed regularly, often several times a day in order to suppress reactions that would otherwise cause him problems. Thousands of injustices; thousands of sweeping comments made arrogantly by the Brother; thousands of insults directed towards his father, his brother; hundreds of meetings with Evie when what he wanted to do and was able to do were so very far apart. Counting to three had become a mantra, a little meditation that allowed the coolness to descend, the detachment, the armour.

But here, now, counting to three achieved nothing. ‘In the middle of something?’ Lucas stared in disbelief then turned and lowered himself down, jumping the final fourteen feet down to where Linus was hunched over a computer screen. ‘In the middle of something?’ He walked over to Linus, inwardly seething, his exter-ior still cool, just as it always was. ‘I thought something had happened to you,’ he said, his voice low. ‘I called your name and you didn’t answer.’

‘Will you please,’ Linus said again, holding up his hand as a parent might do to a child, ‘just stop there. For twenty more seconds.’

His eyes hadn’t even left the computer. Dumbfounded, Lucas did as Linus asked. And as he waited, he looked around again, his anger gradually being replaced by disbelief as he marvelled at the technology, the sheer size of the place.

‘There we are,’ Linus said suddenly, standing up. ‘So, Lucas, what can I do for you?’

He was smiling distractedly as though Lucas had just popped by for a cup of tea, as though they had seen each other as recently as yesterday.

It unsettled Lucas, almost made him forget why he was here. He had only met Linus briefly, but for years they had communicated covertly, and before that it had been Lucas’s father who had communicated with Linus. And yet, in spite of that, looking at him now Lucas realised he was a complete stranger.

‘I …’ It was no use. His eyes were on the move again. ‘What is this place?’ he asked. ‘How did you … I mean … what
is
this place?’

‘Good, isn’t it?’ Linus grinned. ‘I call it my headquarters.’

‘But there’s no one else here.’

‘Exactly.’ Linus’s eyes were shining. ‘I’m the boss and there’s no one to get in the way. Perfect, don’t you think?’ Lucas knew exactly what Linus meant – he dreamt himself, sometimes, of being alone, of not having to deal with people, their problems, their mistrust, their attempts to outmanoeuvre him. But he didn’t say anything. Linus didn’t seem to notice Lucas’s silence, or care. ‘Now, tell me why you’re here because I don’t have long,’ he said. ‘Lots to do. Okay?’

Lucas nodded seriously. ‘There are people in the City,’ he said, crouching down so that his head was level with Linus’s. ‘Murderers. They’ve been working with the Brother, supporting him, offering food, protection, I don’t know what else. Some young people stumbled across them in the old Hospital and they … they killed them all. Except one. She’s at Base Camp with Martha. And …’

‘And?’

Lucas took a deep breath. He hadn’t wanted to dwell on the other thing that Clara had told him; he’d told himself they were leaving purely for her protection. But there had been another reason, too, the thing that had made him realise immediately that they had to leave the City. ‘When the young people saw them. The Informers. They were talking about …’ He took a deep breath. ‘They said they needed to find Raffy. They said they needed him to switch the System back on.’

He looked at Linus, waiting for his reaction. But Linus didn’t look remotely shocked, surprised or even angry. He just nodded thoughtfully.

‘They’re in the City, are they? And they’re interested in the System? Well that explains that …’ Linus said, frowning. Then he turned back to his computer and started to type. After a few minutes, Lucas moved closer. ‘So?’ he asked.

‘So what?’

‘So I need to find Raffy and Evie,’ Lucas said. ‘I need to make sure they’re safe and then I’m going to go back to the City and find these Informers and make them regret what they’ve done.’ His eyes were flashing with anger.

Linus raised his eyebrows. ‘Okay, if you insist. But Raffy’s perfectly safe where he is. He might be marginally safer here, I suppose. You could bring him here, if you want, if he promises not to make any noise. In the meantime, if I can take it from you that you yourself have no intention of restarting the System, then our business is complete.’

Lucas’s eyes narrowed; Linus blanched slightly. ‘And thank you for letting me know,’ he said quickly, as though he thought Lucas’s anger was over his poor manners. ‘Very useful. Very useful indeed.’

Lucas stood up. ‘Linus, did you not hear what I said? Young people have been murdered within the City walls. The Brother has to be involved because the Informers were let into the City by the gatekeeper. They’ve been bringing in food and supplies for years.’

‘From the other townships and settlements around the country. Yes, I know that,’ Linus said distractedly. ‘What I’m more interested in is where they came from. Where their base is. Because right now it doesn’t make any sense.’ He stared at his computer intently. ‘Nice to see you, Lucas. There’s a bathroom over there if you need it. This is where Raffy is.’

He scribbled something on a scrap of paper, handed it to Lucas, then turned back to his computer. Lucas stared at the piece of paper. ‘That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?’

Linus let out a sharp exhalation. ‘Is there anything else to say?’ he asked. ‘Lucas, I am not an army. I am one man. I could try and help you, but I doubt I’d be any more useful than, say, Angel. In fact I would be less useful than Angel. Ask him for help; he’s always going out on pointless expeditions that achieve nothing except keeping him from going mad. I, on the other hand, have things to do. Lots of them. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to get on with them.’

Lucas watched, open-mouthed, as Linus turned back to his computer.

‘I don’t want your help,’ he said bitterly. ‘I want you to care.’

‘I do,’ Linus confirmed. ‘Absolutely. Oh, and you won’t get out the way you came in. Strictly one-way traffic. You’ll have to go down that corridor.’ He pointed in the opposite direction. ‘Bit of a tricky climb once you get to the opening, but you’ll be fine. Just make sure you turn right not left.’

Lucas shook his head in disgust. ‘You don’t get it, do you? That we’re responsible for this? We switched off the System. You did. I let you. I believed in you. And now seven young people are dead. And you … You’re just sitting here with your computers like it doesn’t matter. Well it does. And I’m going to do something about it.’ He started to walk away. Then he stopped.

‘You know, I risked everything communicating with you back in the City,’ he said suddenly, walking back to where Linus was sitting. ‘My father risked everything before me. I thought the City mattered to you.’

‘It did,’ Linus said, his expression one of surprise. ‘The System mattered to me. Destroying it mattered to me.’ He looked at Lucas earnestly. ‘But now that’s done. There are other things that need my attention. Questions I can’t answer, can’t fathom.’

‘Like what?’ Lucas asked, his eyes stony. ‘What is more important to you than people being brutally murdered, left outside the City walls for scavengers to feast on? What is more important than discovering the Brother has allies outside the City, a City that is meant to be entirely self-sufficient? Allies that I knew nothing about until yesterday? Allies who know about the System, who have free access to come and go as they please? Linus, aren’t you listening? Don’t you get that this matters?’

Linus breathed out, then looked at Lucas carefully. ‘Of course it matters,’ he said then. ‘But the truth is I know all this. Not all of it, but enough to piece most of it together. And I get that you’re angry and frustrated but I’ve got my eyes on the big picture.’

‘The big picture?’ Lucas grabbed Linus by his collar and dragged him up. ‘You knew all this and you didn’t tell me? You let them kill those young people and you did nothing?’

‘I didn’t know what they were doing in the City,’ Linus gasped as Lucas dropped him back down again. ‘I didn’t … I didn’t think about that.’

‘So what
did
you think about?’ Lucas demanded, his eyes unflinching. He was bearing over Linus now; all his residual anger bubbling up inside him. ‘Tell me. What exactly did you think about, Linus?’

Linus appeared to consider the question for a few seconds. Then he moved his chair to the side, pulled up another one, and motioned for Linus to sit down. Lucas refused.

‘Look,’ Linus said, pointing at his screen. Lucas looked; it was a map. Linus pressed a button. The screen zoomed in to show a patch of land that Lucas recognised; the tree where Raffy and Evie used to meet, the tree where he himself had been just the other evening. ‘Clever, huh?’ Linus grinned. ‘Old software but the satellite is still in the sky. It’s taken me a while, but I’ve managed to get it working. It picks up activity, movement, active computer chips. Pretty cool, don’t you think?’

Lucas looked at the map irritably. Then, gradually, he found himself moving closer, his anger abating slowly. It was incredible. Absolutely incredible. ‘You can watch the City?’ he breathed. ‘We have to use this to track down the Informers. Catch them. Bring them to justice.’

Linus pulled a face. ‘Maybe. But I’m less interested in the City than what’s happening elsewhere,’ he said.

‘Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear,’ Lucas said. ‘But I am interested.’

Linus pressed another button; the map shrunk back so that instead of the patch of land, they were now looking at the City in its entirety. Linus hit the button again and the vast shape of the United Kingdom was visible. Lucas couldn’t believe what he was seeing; he’d only ever seen maps in old books but now he was looking at the real thing.

‘It’s odd,’ Linus countered.

‘Odd?’

‘Odd,’ Linus said again. ‘Look over here.’

He scrolled across to the east coast, and pointed to an area. ‘See that?’ he asked Lucas.

Lucas nodded.

‘There’s a bit missing,’ Linus said.

‘Missing?’ Lucas frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean,’ Linus said patiently, ‘that here, there should be a bit sticking out. It used to be called Margate. And now it isn’t there.’

Lucas considered this. ‘Maybe it was destroyed in the Horrors.’

‘A whole stretch of land? Not possible. Anyway, that’s not the only thing that’s strange. The satellites are recording no activity, nothing outside of the UK.’