Terminal by Roderick Gordon
‘Jesus, are you steering this thing or what?’ Drake said, looking rather shaken from being jostled about so much.
‘I’m doing my best, Jiggs retorted. ‘Considering there are a couple of damned big columns in the way,’ he added under his breath, as he backed the tank off to take another run up the steps.
This time he was more successful. With an almighty crash, one of the columns toppled over, and although the tank was lifted up on one side by what was left of the shattered column, it was still heading for the tall oak doors with some momentum. There was a loud crunch and both doors were knocked clean off their hinges. ‘We’re home, James,’ Jiggs said, standing on the brakes.
‘Remind me not to let you drive again,’ Drake said to him, before turning to Elliott. ‘Okay, we’re really exposed here in the daylight. Let’s do whatever you’ve got to do, then head out as quickly as possible. And I hope this isn’t just some wild frolic.’
Drake followed Elliott as she climbed through the hatch in the turret, then leapt down from the tank. After checking the interior of the cathedral was clear of any Styx, they sprinted down the nave. On reaching the area under the huge dome of St Paul’s and the Whispering Gallery, Drake continued on for some way in the direction of the altar before realising he was by himself. He turned to find Elliott had stopped directly under the dome.
‘This is it,’ she said, closing her eyes.
Drake frowned. ‘What is? I don’t get it. What could be here that’s going to be of any help to us at all?’ he demanded, the desperation evident in his voice.
‘I honestly don’t know,’ Elliott replied, opening her eyes and holding the sceptre before her.
Drake came back towards her. ‘But this is a cathedral – what are you looking for here? And why here, in particular? What’s so special about this place?’
‘I really don’t know yet,’ Elliott admitted. ‘Will thought it was to do with ley lines – which might be why this has always been a holy place.’
Drake lost it at this point. ‘Ley lines? A holy place! What sort of New Age claptrap is that? I know we need a bloody miracle, Elliott, but that’s so f …’
He never finished the sentence because Elliott, with both hands gripping the sceptre, twisted the shaft halfway along.
‘What’s this?’ Drake breathed, as he and Elliott noticed the most bizarre phenomenon. It was as if the light on them and the ground around them had gone through some sort of spectrum shift.
This effect was becoming more pronounced by the second, until they found they were in the dead centre of a hemisphere of shimmering azure light, some forty feet across. The edge of the hemisphere was fluxing and shifting in the same way that an oil film does on water.
With no warning, a strong wind swept through the interior of the cathedral, strong enough to send pews scraping across the floor and hymn books flapping into the air like untidy birds taking to the wing.
It was followed immediately by an immensely loud creaking and cracking sound, as if the whole fabric of the building was coming under strain.
‘Get down!’ Drake shouted, peering above them.
In less than the blink of an eye, the dome of St Paul’s lifted off.
And, just as quickly, it had completely vanished from sight.
‘What did you just do?’ Drake demanded, as he had his first glimpse of blue sky above. He moved towards Elliott, ready to protect her from the pieces of masonry and timber that were dropping to the ground around them, but it proved unnecessary. None of it had actually fallen within the blue circle where they were.
Drake continued to peer above him, completely bemused. ‘Where did it go?’ he mumbled, shaking his head in sheer disbelief. It was as if some giant being had simply lopped off the top of a boiled egg with a spoon.
Elliott merely shrugged. ‘We saw something like this before, at the pyramid.’
As he continued to shake his head, Drake was still trying to take it in. ‘Well, you got me.’ Then he laughed. ‘Against all the odds this building survived the Blitz, and we’ve just trashed it!’ He turned his attention to the shimmering blue bubble surrounding them. ‘And what’s with the light show?’
Elliott shrugged again, not offering any explanation. Instead she was peering around as if she was disappointed, as if she’d expected more.
As the L94 in the tank began to hammer away from the front steps, Drake was brought back to the seriousness of their situation. ‘Okay, that’s it,’ he decided. ‘We’re sitting ducks in here. Time to get going.’
As if to prove his point, something swooped in through the open roof. The first Armagi touched down, and fortunately didn’t attack immediately, giving Drake the time to empty a magazine from his assault rifle into it. Pieces spun off the creature like chunks of flying ice before it dropped to the ground.
Several more Armagi landed on the cathedral floor, but as Drake changed magazines, they didn’t seem to be attacking.
He cocked his rifle, watching them as they remained stock-still. ‘What’s wrong with them? Why aren’t they coming for me?’ he asked. Still not one of the Armagi made a move, as if they didn’t want to step into the circle of blue light.
Drake and Elliott exchanged glances, neither speaking for the moment.
More and more Armagi were landing inside the cathedral but still they didn’t advance. ‘I know you’re safe from them, but I’m not. What’s going on?’ Drake asked.
‘Maybe it’s because of this light,’ Elliott suggested.
Drake shrugged, glancing across to the entrance of the cathedral. ‘I bet it won’t keep us safe from Limiters. That tank is our only way out of here, but how can I possibly reach it now? I can’t shoot our way through all those,’ Drake said, scanning the motionless Armagi. All of a sudden, he sat down, as if all his energy had deserted him.
Elliott realised what an effort it had been for him, and that he was in real trouble from the radiation sickness. She immediately went over to him.
‘Save yourself if you can,’ Drake pleaded with her. ‘Look at me. I’m done for anyway.’
‘What in God’s name is that?’ Parry shouted into the headset as his helicopter led the formation over London.
He and everyone on board were mesmerised by what appeared to be a tornado against the morning sky. It seemed to begin as a dark spout just above the level of the rooftops before broadening out into a spinning dark cyclone reaching up towards the clouds.
‘Some sort of explosion?’ the pilot suggested.
‘That’s not any blast pattern I’ve seen before,’ Parry replied, as pieces of debris began to drop all around them. ‘Anyone got any bright ideas what’s going on?’
‘I can’t help you with that, but there was the mother of all energy spikes just then,’ Danforth reported, as he watched the LED display on the device he’d been using to locate the beacon signal.
‘Jesus!’ the pilot cried, as a large section of lead roof plummeted uncomfortably close, and he swerved the helicopter a little after the fact. The falling debris wasn’t very dense, but a direct hit from some of the more substantial pieces of stone or timber would have been enough to bring down a helicopter.
‘Everyone still with us?’ Parry asked, as he turned to check the other helicopters hadn’t been damaged.
Eddie was watching the fallout scattering the streets below, some of it striking the buildings. ‘But what could have caused this?’ he wondered out loud.
‘I think we’re about to find out,’ Parry replied, pointing at what still remained of the strange phenomenon ahead. ‘Isn’t it directly on our bearing, Danforth?’
‘You could be right,’ he replied. ‘The beacon’s been stationary for a while now, and it appears to be at the epicentre of whatever that is.’ He checked the LED display again. ‘And we’re almost over it … in a thousand metres … five hundred … and X marks the spot!’
‘Good Lord!’ Parry burst out, as their helicopter skimmed straight over St Paul’s cathedral and they saw the
‘That’s one of our tanks on the steps,’ the pilot observed.
‘I saw it. And someone’s picking off Armagi using the tank’s chain gun,’ Parry said. ‘All right – whoever it is down there, they’re on our side and I’m sure they’d be grateful for some help.’ He spoke over the radio to the other helicopters. ‘I want two-man sniper teams put down on top of the buildings around here, and make it snappy.’
‘No! What are you doing?’ Drake cried weakly, as Elliott began to cut into her forearm.
‘Close your eyes and keep still,’ she said, bringing her arm up to his face. ‘I’m going to cover you in my blood. It worked for Will, so I don’t see why it won’t work for you.’
Drake did as she’d told him, and she began to smear her blood all over him. ‘This situation is a bit different, you know – we’re going to be knee-deep in those overgrown prawns once we step outside this light ring. It’s not like we’re just avoiding a couple of them along a street,’ he said.
‘I know that,’ she replied.
Drake was silent for a moment before he spoke again. ‘You’ve been a good friend. You were always there for me in the Deeps when I needed you.’
‘Don’t get all over-the-top with me, and let me finish wiping my blood on you,’ she chided him, laughing.
They moved to the edge of the blue bubble, and had just got themselves ready to go when the tank engine fired up. It began to reverse towards them, smashing pews under its tracks as it came. The engine stopped again, and Jiggs opened the hatch a few inches, peering out.
‘Thought you could do with a lift,’ he said, looking around.
The Armagi in the cathedral were almost all completely still, although every now and then one of them would open and close its wings like a resting bird.
‘Good timing,’ Drake said, and with Elliott supporting him they edged through the shimmering border of blue light.
‘Hey, that’s trippy,’ Drake muttered.
Elliott was quiet, keeping watch on the Armagi, who were following their every movement.
As they reached the tank, both Elliott and Drake stopped for a moment. One of the Armagi hadn’t managed to get out of the way in time and had been pinned under the tank, its head crushed by the track. It was the strangest thing to watch because the Armagi was continually transforming into the long thin body of a Styx and then back into an Armagi, over and over again. It was trying to regenerate, but the point at the back of its head that Martha had identified was under pressure from the tank track, and it was stranded somewhere between its two forms.
‘Nice,’ Drake muttered sarcastically. ‘Now you see one monster, now you see another.’
‘Come on,’ Elliott urged him, supporting him as they skirted around the shape-shifting creature and then clambered up onto the tank.
Once the two of them were safely inside and the hatch had been secured, Jiggs looked at Elliott and then at the blood smeared all over Drake. ‘So the masking trick really works. Your blood fools them.’
Without waiting for either of them to speak, he inclined his head towards the controls for the chain gun. ‘I don’t want to worry either of you unnecessarily, but you should know that we’re almost out of rounds. And we’ve been making a hell of a racket here, so we need to make ourselves scarce before any Limiters decide to join the party.’
Parry and his men were on top of an office block overlooking St Paul’s. From behind the parapet at the very edge of the roof, they’d seen the Challenger reverse into the cathedral and out of sight. And now huge numbers of Armagi were arriving, but stopping on the cathedral forecourt as if waiting for something, waiting for a command.
Parry was just about to consult with Eddie about the situation, and particularly the way the Armagi were behaving, when his satphone went off.
‘Hi Parry, it’s me, Bob,’ the caller said.
‘Bob, can this wait?’ Parry told him. ‘I’m a bit tied up at the moment.’
‘It can’t,’ Bob replied.
Parry frowned. ‘Okay – go ahead.’
There was a slight delay before Bob spoke again. ‘Just a courtesy call. I thought you should know we’re about to send a nuclear missile your way.’
‘What! Here?’ Parry gripped the satphone so tightly the plastic casing creaked. He waved frantically at Danforth and Eddie to switch their headsets over so they could listen in.
‘Yessir. One of our subs in the Atlantic has been given the firing sequence and is waiting for the final order from the President. That means you’ve got around fifteen minutes to get the hell out of Dodge.’
‘Can I ask why you’re doing this?’
‘Sure, although rather have me try to explain the situation, I want you to see something. I’m breaking every darned rule in the book, but I’m going to give you a secure link to look at. Are you near a screen there?’
Danforth moved to the nearest laptop, where one of Parry’s men was working, and typed in the link address as Bob reeled it off. An aerial image came on screen. It was clearly from a drone flying at some altitude. ‘Right, it’s up,’ Parry confirmed. ‘What do you want to show me?’
‘Hold on,’ Bob said.
The drone changed course and then Parry saw the need for urgency. Along a stretch of the Thames around Canary Wharf, huge numbers of Armagi had come together and were moving in dense columns across the ground. As Parry watched the video feed, the light reflecting from these columns of creatures made them look like runnels of molten silver as they reached the riverbank and slipped straight into the Thames.
‘That’s the story all the way along the river from Canvey Island to the estuary. A mass transit’s currently in progress,’ Bob said. ‘And we’ve been tracking their movements once they’re in the water, and they’re migrating out to sea. Our best guess is that this is an invasion force on its way to the rest of the world.’
‘The cell breaks open, and all the new viruses spill out,’ Parry recalled.
‘What was that?’ Bob asked, not understanding.
‘Something my son used to say about the Styx,’ Parry replied. ‘So, Bob, I agree there’s no question that the Armagi are on the move, but is the threat that great?’ Parry asked, trying to see if there was any reason he could find to divert the missile attack. ‘I mean, why aren’t the Armagi airborne? That way they could spread more quickly.’
‘For reasons of stealth, I guess. They’re harder to detect in the water,’ Bob answered. ‘Or, maybe, by swimming they’re conserving energy, so they can cover greater distances. Say to the US, for example? That’s what one of our scientific advisers is suggesting anyway. But your guess is as good as mine.’
‘And precisely who’s approved this strike?’ Parry said, his voice uncompromising. ‘By what authority is this being done, because I hope it’s not the good ol’ US playing world policeman again all on its tod?’
‘Er, Parry, I have no idea what most of that meant, but it’s actually strikes, plural – there’s a series of nuclear strikes scheduled. And, basically, every nation in the world has endorsed the action,’ Bob answered. ‘The US Senate and the Pentagon … Russia, all the Arab states … and there’s unanimous consensus from the European Military Council, and throughout the whole of Eastern and Central Asia except for … er … Kazakhstan, who don’t seem to be able to make their minds up. So we’ve effectively got full and unconditional global consent for a preliminary hit in London, followed by a join-the-dots sequence along the Thames, your southern coastline and your international waters.’
‘You make it sound so clinical,’ Parry said. ‘This is my country you’re talking about.’
‘Sorry, but like us, the rest of the world doesn’t want the contamination to spread any further than Engl—’ Bob started to reply.
‘You’ve got to buy me some time,’ Parry interrupted him sharply. ‘Can you delay the strike?’
‘And why should I do that?’ Bob challenged.
‘I
Bob wasn’t convinced. ‘You’re not giving me anything I can use at this end.’
‘I haven’t got anything yet,’ Parry admitted. ‘But you’ll see from the video feed that the Armagi are congregating here in huge numbers, but then they’re not moving. Seems that something’s drawing them here, and – who knows – this latest development could be a game changer.’
‘Look, I’ll see what I can do,’ Bob said hesitantly. ‘But I need something concrete from you, and yesterday.’
‘Understood. Bob, I’m going to hand you over to one of my men for a moment, but stay on the line,’ Parry said, passing the satphone to the soldier at the laptop. Then he immediately went back to join Eddie and Danforth at the parapet. ‘As if we don’t have enough on our plate already.’
Drake had stretched out on the cabin floor with a rolled-up tarpaulin for a pillow. His eyes were closed and his face was so drained and pallid he appeared more dead than alive.
‘I wish there was more I could do for him,’ Jiggs whispered to Elliott as they looked at Drake with concern.
‘Please don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,’ Drake said, keeping his eyes shut, but managing a grin.
‘Didn’t think you were still with us, old man,’ Jiggs laughed.
‘Two fish in a tank,’ Drake mumbled. ‘One says to the other, “How do you drive this bloody thing?”’
‘That bad?’ Jiggs groaned, exchanging glances with Elliott. They both knew Drake only too well – the worse the situation, the worse the joke.
‘’Fraid so,’ Drake mumbled. ‘Now, can we just fire up this bloody thing and ride it out of here?’ he begged. ‘Maybe making ourselves a new door at the other end of the building in the process, as no doubt there’ll be more prawns out front by now.’