Read Freefall Page 44


  “But I am not without compassion.” The old Styx grinned, showing rather too much of his teeth. “I’m prepared to give you the opportunity to honor your commitments.”

  “No, please, no, no,” Cox gibbered as it dawned on him what the old Styx was saying.

  “Isaiah, chapter twenty-eight, verse fifteen — ‘We have made a covenant with death, and with hell are we at agreement,’“ the old Styx quoted.

  “You don’t want to do this, not to yer old friend Coxy.”

  “Deal’s a deal,” the old Styx said simply. With that the Limiters heaved Cox into the Pore. As he corkscrewed downward, his filthy black stole flapped in the wind behind him, making him look like a particularly hideous warlock short of one broomstick.

  “Rough justice — wasn’t that what you said, Cox? Rough justice?” the old Styx yelled, his voice echoing around the Pore.

  36

  WILL OPENED his eyes. He found he was lying on his front, his head resting in the scree, and only inches away from his nose was a most curious sight. It was a slow-moving creature that for all intents and purposes could have been a well-fed slug. But what set it apart from the common garden variety was that it had alternating stripes of light and dark green down its back, which seemed to pulse with iridescent light.

  Because he was going cross-eyed, Will pulled himself back so he could see the slug more clearly. It sensed his movement and immediately stopped in its tracks.

  “Hello,” Will said. As it continued to hold completely still, he puffed lightly on it.

  All of a sudden, the slug rolled itself inside out, so that the vivid greens were replaced by a dull gray color almost indistinguishable from the rock it had been slithering across. At the same time it contracted into a ball. If Will hadn’t just seen it two seconds before in its glowing green incarnation, he would have assumed it was merely a satisfyingly round pebble.

  Since it was insisting on playing dead — or playing at being a piece of inanimate rock — Will blew on it again. This time there was no reaction at all, so he blew even harder.

  There was a popping sound and it flicked itself straight up into the air like a flea, then was gone.

  “What the …?” Will exclaimed, sitting up sharply.

  As he scanned around, he saw that Elliott and Bartleby were still asleep. However, his father was wide-awake, lounging against a small fern tree.

  “Did you see that?” Will said to him.

  His father nodded, but his eyes were burning with an intensity that had nothing to do with the discovery of a flying slug.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it before … must be a completely new species,” Will said.

  Dr. Burrows held up a hand. “Will, that’s really not important … not right now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just look around you. Haven’t you realized where we are? We made it … we’re actually inside the planet. We’re inside planet earth!”

  Will didn’t answer right away, angling his head to catch the golden light filtering down from above. “But … no … that’s sunlight up there,” he said falteringly.

  “Yes, Will, it’s sunlight, but not from our sun,” Dr. Burrows said. “That ancient race knew a thing or two — they found a way through here, and we’ve followed in their footsteps. We made it through, just like they did. We’ve done it!”

  Will frowned deeply, struck by a thought. “Dad … when we drifted off the side and into the middle of the void, I thought Bartleby had done it — I thought he’d pushed us off.” Dr. Burrows held his son’s gaze as he continued. “But it wasn’t him at all, was it? It was you.”

  As Elliott mumbled in her sleep, Dr. Burrows touched his finger to his lips. “Shhh — not so loud, Will.”

  But Will wasn’t about to be silenced. “You were making darned sure we couldn’t get back. And when you were firing my Sten, you didn’t know where you were taking us, did you? You had no idea if we’d make it here, or if we’d just die somewhere in that horrific place?”

  “No, no idea at all,” his father admitted. “It was a shot in the dark.” He looked very pleased with himself at this unintended pun, and repeated it again. “A total shot in the dark.”

  “You —!” Will growled, appalled that his father had been so ready to risk their lives, and then could be so casual about it.

  “You’re quite right to feel like that, Will, but just look at what we’ve achieved,” Dr. Burrows said softly, glancing again at Elliott. “And I’d advise you to keep mum about all this, because now’s the time we need to pull together and get ourselves to the top. If you rock the boat with young Ellie over there, it isn’t going to help us any.”

  “Her name’s Elliott, and you’re a freakin’ wacko. You could have killed us with your crazy ideas,” Will accused him.

  “Well, I didn’t, did I?” Dr. Burrows retorted. “And if we’d just hung around at the bottom of ‘Smoking Jean,’ how long do you think we’d have lasted?” He raised his eyes toward the light. “Look, Will, when we get to the top and there’s nothing there but some solar-swept barren desert, then you can congratulate yourself for being right … as we all die from starvation and lethal skin cancers.” He nodded to himself. “Like Icarus, we will have flown too close to the sun.”

  Will didn’t know how to respond to this. Dr. Burrows had turned everything on its head, so that if Will was right, then it sounded as though they were all doomed. Will lay back on the scree, and when Elliott finally woke up he didn’t tell her what his father had confessed. Besides, what difference did it make now?

  Still roped together, they climbed farther up the interior of the giant crater, and the air became warmer and the light grew brighter. The crater wall inclined at approximately forty degrees, but despite this the going hadn’t been too arduous at first because they were still relatively weightless. However, as they rose higher, the increase in gravity began to pull them down, making them feel like they were dragging themselves through molasses. The vegetation also became more abundant, which didn’t help matters, either. They were forced to dispense with the climbing rope because it kept getting hung up on the larger trees, but then there were frequent and rather frightening occasions when one of them would lose their footing and start to tumble pell-mell down the inside of the crater wall. The trick, they quickly learned, was to spread their limbs and grab at the nearest shrub or tree to stop themselves from falling farther.

  With the light growing in intensity, Elliott was clearly having problems as she groped her way up the incline. It was very different from the catlike nimbleness she usually exhibited, but Will wasn’t overly surprised. She’d never experienced anything like these levels of illumination before, and he just hoped she’d be able to adjust to it.

  Then they encountered a stretch where nothing grew and a dark brown residue coated all the rocks and saturated the soil.

  “Some sort of oil slick?” Will asked his father. He looked ahead, trying to work out where it had come from.

  Dr. Burrows rubbed the glutinous dark substance between his fingers, then took a sniff of it. “Yes, in a way. I think it’s bitumen,” he decided.

  “What — same as the stuff they use on roads?” Will said, not liking the sound of this.

  “Yes, but this is naturally occurring — it must be flowing out of the strata. One theory is that it’s derived from huge accretions of primordial microscopic organisms that, over the centuries, bacteria breaks down to leave just this fraction.” Dr. Burrows wiped his fingers on his pants. “By the way, try not to get too much on your skin — it’s not unknown to have arsenic and other nasties in it.”

  “Bit late for that,” Will muttered, examining his hands as they set off again.

  After what seemed like several days of hauling themselves through the ever more abundant vegetation and further deposits of bitumen, they were finally out of the crater and on level ground again.

  “Incredible!” Dr. Burrows cried. “We’re here!”

  “
Wherever that is,” Will said under his breath. “I thought we’d never reach the top.” He stretched his back, enjoying being able to stand up again.

  Dr. Burrows slipped off his Bergen. “Don’t think I’ll be needing this. Not in this climate,” he said as he removed his duffle coat as well. He took out his binoculars. “Just look at this place!” he exclaimed. “It’s beautiful.”

  Squinting, Will began to scrutinize the range of hills that formed the horizon whichever direction he turned, and then he examined the deep red soil underfoot.

  Elliott staggered a few paces, and raised her hand to shield herself from the fiery ball of light in the sky. “It’s scorching,” she puffed.

  “That’s because the sun is always directly overhead,” Dr. Burrows informed her. “Here it’s always midday.”

  “What are you talking about?” Will spat.

  Dr. Burrows studied his compass, then looked up. “The earth doesn’t orbit around this sun — this second sun is up there in the sky day in, day out … in fact, there is only day … there’s no night at all here.”

  “Only day,” Elliott echoed, meeting Will’s eyes.

  If what Dr. Burrows was saying was right, Will realized how strange this concept must be for her. Her whole life had been spent underground and all she’d known up to this point was the permanent shade of subterranean lands. But the journey through the Crystal Belt and into this new world had taken her from one extreme to the other.

  “The Garden of the Second Sun,” Dr. Burrows proclaimed as he continued to survey their surroundings. “I shall call it Roger Burrows Land!”

  Will had heard enough. “Dad, I’m sorry, but I’m not buying this second sun stuff,” he said, shaking his head. He thrust his finger at the scene before them. “Look at the woodland, or forest, or whatever it is over there on the sides of the hills.” He shrugged. “All perfectly normal. How can you say we’re inside the planet when it all appears so normal? And tell me something — if you’re right, why can’t I see the land curve upward?”

  “Well, even if those hills weren’t blocking our view,” Dr. Burrows explained patiently, “the massive scale of this second world, combined with the heat haze, would probably make it difficult for us to see very far. But maybe, given favorable microclimatic conditions, we will be able to observe a little more of the other sides of the sphere.”

  Will shook his head again. “So that big burning thing in the sky is what, exactly?”

  “I told you — it’s the second sun. It must have been here from the beginning of time, when our planet was created after the big bang. And here it’s been for millions upon millions of years, without any of us knowing, spinning away in its own secret existence.”

  “You’re saying it’s like some sort of star?” Will ventured, frowning.

  “Yes. A cloaked star. I suspect it might not be an isolated case, and there are others out there in the universe, but of course we have no way of seeing them,” Dr. Burrows suggested. “And common sense dictates that this sun’s far smaller than the one in the middle of our solar system — it has to be in order to fit inside our planet.”

  “Oh, come on,” Will shot back quickly. “Somehow, and I don’t know how, we’ve managed to climb up another of the pores — one that’s open at the top — and we’re on the surface again. I know the plants are a bit weird …” He hesitated as his gaze fell on a large blue flower the size of a beach ball. “… but maybe we’ve come up in Africa or something. Listen to those crickets — don’t you get them in Africa?”

  Nobody spoke as they listened to the rhythmic clicking sounds coming from all over.

  “Cicadas,” Dr. Burrows decided. “They sound like cicadas, which you get in tropical areas like —”

  “Told you,” Will interrupted him. “We’re back on the surface.”

  “Really?” Dr. Burrows said. “If that’s so, then what about the gravity? Go on — try it.”

  “All right, I will,” Will replied, taking up the challenge. He bounded up and down several times, reaching unfeasible heights above the ground with each successive jump. As he stopped jumping, he seemed undecided. “Feels lower than normal.”

  “Thank you,” Dr. Burrows said a little scornfully. “In fact, it’s much lower. And that’s because it’s mainly centrifugal force keeping you on the inside of this rotating sphere, which is less than the force of gravity we’re used to back on the surface.” Dr. Burrows stopped speaking as they heard a twittering noise and a flock of flame-red birds swooped past. They were the size of pigeons, but far more refined in appearance, with fanned tail feathers, fine, curving beaks almost four inches in length, and, most remarkably, two pairs of wings. One of these birds dipped down to the blue beach-ball flower and, hovering by it like a hummingbird, poked its beak deep inside the bloom to collect nectar.

  “Ever seen anything like that before?” Dr. Burrows asked his son.

  “Can’t say I have,” Will conceded reluctantly.

  As they turned to begin the journey toward the mountains, Bartleby sprang up and grabbed the flame-red bird in his jaws.

  “Bartleby! No!” Will shouted, but it was too late.

  Elliott led them toward a V she’d spotted in the hills, which turned out to be the right decision because a pass lay there. Although this meant they didn’t have to do any more climbing, the “woodland or forest” Will had referred to was the thickest jungle imaginable, and it took them many hours to push their way through the tangle of vegetation and cover even a short distance. When they finally emerged from it, they found they were at the edge of an area of scrubland, perhaps a half mile square. It was bordered by more jungle, which rose to an incredible height and looked even more dense than the stretch they’d just come through.

  “I wonder why this area isn’t overgrown, too,” Dr. Burrows pondered, bending down on one knee and beginning to poke around in the grass while muttering something about “pioneer colonies” of plants.

  “Hey,” Will said to his father as he spied several herds of animals grazing at the distant reaches of the clearing.

  In an instant Dr. Burrows was up and peering through his binoculars. “Buffalo,” he said. “But see over there.” He pointed to a far corner of the scrubland.

  “Zebra?” Will suggested, just able to make out their black-and-white markings.

  “They’re like zebra, but the stripes stop behind their forelegs…. Will … I do believe they’re quagga!” Dr. Burrows exclaimed, then gave a slightly hysterical giggle.

  “Nah. Quagga are extinct, Dad,” Will said dismissively. “The last one died in a zoo in —”

  “I know, I know — the eighteen-eighties … a zoo in Amsterdam.” Dr. Burrows lowered his binoculars. “But they haven’t been hunted to extinction here. It’s as though they’ve been given a second chance!”

  “You mean we’ve been given a second chance,” Will contradicted him.

  Dr. Burrows was silent as something else caught his eye and he passed the binoculars to his son. “Just above the tree line — tell me what you see.”

  “Looks like smoke — a big cloud of it,” Will answered.

  “Yes, I saw that,” Dr. Burrows said. “A bushfire, I’d say. The foliage probably gets so overheated that fires break out spontaneously. From a quick examination of the ground around here, there appears to be a thick layer of ash under the new raft of vegetation.” He paused dramatically. “But I wasn’t talking about the smoke. Take another look, Will.”

  Will adjusted the binoculars. He didn’t say anything, but then lowered them and met his father’s eyes. “Pyramids … two of them.”

  “Yes,” Dr. Burrows said, “and they —”

  “— look like Mayan pyramids,” Will interrupted him. “The tops are flattened, just like them.”

  “Yes … Mayan pyramids,” Dr. Burrows agreed. “But I counted three. We should head for the nearest,” Dr. Burrows decided on the spot.

  As they trekked across the clearing, the herds of grazing animals see
med not to take the slightest notice of them, as if they held no fear of human beings. But Will was feeling more and more uncomfortable. He held out his forearm to examine it.

  “What’s the matter?” Dr. Burrows asked him.

  “It’s the sun — I can’t stay in this much longer. It’ll burn my skin off,” Will said.

  Fortunately, they were close to the perimeter of the scrubland, and Will was soon able to take shelter under the thick canopy of trees.

  “Happier now?” Dr. Burrows said to him as they stopped to drink some water.

  Then they pressed on, battling their way through the jungle, which was almost impenetrable. Dr. Burrows compared it to Amazonian rain forest, telling Will and Elliott that the trees were several times taller than those in any Topsoil rain forests. They had some respite as they came to several stretches where the going was far easier. The leaf cover was so dense above these sections that it was really quite dark on the jungle floor, and much cooler. Little hindered their progress except the tremendously thick tree trunks and a few smaller bushes, from some of which dangled exotic fruit. Now that she was out of the bright sunlight, Elliott seemed to be in her element once more; she took the lead and upped the pace.

  They caught fleeting glimpses of what appeared to be antelope and gazelle. Elliott spotted a large snake coiled around a branch high above them, and although it was motionless, they were careful not to walk underneath it. And on the ground, hiding in the leaf detritus, there were smaller reptiles — vividly colored lizards — and froglike amphibians, which delighted Bartleby as he sniffed inquisitively at them and they scuttled or hopped frantically away from him.

  Dr. Burrows had been whistling in his atonal, random way as he took in the varied fauna, but all of a sudden fell silent, and strode past Elliott with an air of self-importance. He’d clearly made up his mind that it was his place to lead the party. However, after he nearly blundered straight into a fast-moving river that was completely hidden by a thick mat of vegetation, he dropped back and let Elliott take the lead again. And they all took more care about where they were treading.