Nano Page 21

  Her face was wreathed in sweat. She looked incredibly tired. Pete caught a flicker of movement from behind her. She saw him look.

  ‘Oh!’ And she laughed. ‘There was me thinking you’d have more imagination than that.’

  Pete looked back at the same spot behind Lucrezia and saw something move again. The girl took a couple of steps towards him. A shape shifted from the shadow behind her. She sensed it, span on one heel, flicking the gun away towards the figure emerging from the shadows. Then she tore back to Pete.

  He saw panic in her eyes. Her hands started to shake, her finger whitening on the trigger. Pete dived forwards, just as the hidden figure stepped into the light.

  Lucrezia was confused. Stepping back, her calves hit the raised parapet surrounding the turbine shaft. The gun went off, the bullet slamming into the ceiling, bringing down chunks of concrete. She tried to keep her balance. Pete launched himself towards her, reaching out for her arm but she twisted away from him, span 90 degrees and fell head-first over the parapet.

  Pete crashed to the floor, coming up hard against the raised edge of the turbine opening. He felt a stab of pain across his shoulders and sensed someone crouching beside him. Turning, utterly bewildered and fighting the pain, he saw a familiar face.

  ‘Josh-bloody-Thompson,’ he said, his voice completely drowned out by the noise.

  78

  Floor 199, Cloud Tower, Dubai

  ‘COME ON!’ Steph yelled dashing towards the pile of rubble.

  Three of the men helped her lift chunks of concrete, pull aside steel sheets and remove lumps of cement. Saeed held back.

  Steph paused for a second and tapped her wrist monitor, trying to get a signal. ‘Chloe,’ she said into her comms. ‘Chloe. Please answer me. Chloe!’

  No response.

  She stared at the data on the monitor. Chloe’s thermal image showed her temperature was normal. Adjusting the parameters on the screen, she picked up her heartbeat. It was slow but steady. Then she scrolled down for more information. ‘Damn it!’

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Carmen asked.

  ‘My colleague. My scan tells me she’s running out of air very quickly.’ She turned back to help the men digging at the pile of rubble. Two others ran over to help.

  ‘I can see something,’ Abu shouted from the top of the pile.

  Steph clambered over towards the boy. Peering into a hole, she could just make out the edge of the Cage and beyond that, a glimpse of Chloe’s cybersuit. Then she heard a very faint voice through her comms.

  ‘Steph . . . Anyone?’

  ‘I’m here, Chloe.’

  ‘I’m suffocating,’ Chloe gasped. ‘My helmet is wedged on and my arms are trapped. I think my air pipe has snapped.’

  ‘Christ!’ Steph hissed. ‘Okay, look, Chloe. We’ll get you out.’

  ‘May I suggest something?’ Mohammed was at Steph’s side.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘We need to get air to your friend. We have to get a pipe through this opening.’

  ‘A pipe?’

  ‘Across the mall I saw a souvenir shop. They sell bongs. We need a few, cut off the pipes, join them together.’

  ‘But how can we get it down to Chloe?’

  ‘I can do that,’ Abu said.

  Frank elected to get the bong pipes. The small group watched him scramble over the pile of concrete and assorted detritus lying between them and the souvenir shop. Steph and the others continued to claw at the rubble in an effort to clear an opening for Abu to crawl through.

  Frank soon reappeared with a dozen lengths of pipe he had ripped from the largest bongs he could find. Steph found some spare elastoplast in a pocket – leftovers from the supplies she and Jessica had used earlier. She, Carmen, Jessica and a couple of people from Charlotte Emmington’s group used the elastoplast and bandage to link the lengths of pipe. The others continued scrambling at the wreckage, trying to dig down to Chloe.

  ‘All right, Stephanie,’ Mohammed called. ‘I think we have a way through to your friend.’

  Abu picked his way up to the entrance of the opening.

  ‘You sure you’re okay with this, Abu?’ Steph asked.

  The boy looked at her and nodded. ‘Of course I am! Where’s the end of the pipe?’

  ‘Here.’ Carmen handed the boy the 6-metre length of makeshift air pipe.

  ‘Right. See you in a minute,’ the boy said and slithered into the hole.

  79

  Abu was lithe and skinny as a bean but he still had to be careful. The opening stretched 3 metres under the surface of the rubble. It twisted and turned, the inside festooned with steel spikes and jagged edges that could cut flesh like a laser.

  To free both hands, he had tied the pipe to his belt and Steph shone her helmet light into the opening to illuminate his path.

  ‘Good boy, Abu,’ she called down, and saw him twist to his left, narrowly missing a nasty-looking iron rod before he disappeared from view.

  He could just make out where he was going thanks to Steph’s light above the opening. Reaching out a hand, he felt the side of the Cage. Twisting slightly to his right and bringing up his knees into a foetal position, he glimpsed Chloe inside the contraption. The door was jammed open by a pile of concrete blocks. He could see Chloe’s head resting on the control panel, the severed air pipe close to the side of her neck.

  He felt incredibly hot and was finding it hard to breathe. A spasm of panic passed through him and he had to recall the feeling of triumph he had experienced when his efforts had saved him and his classmates on the survival course at school. He took in as much air as he could, shook off the nagging voice of self-doubt building up inside him and squeezed into the cabin of the Cage.

  Leaning forwards, he tugged at Chloe’s helmet. It was stuck fast.

  ‘Allah!’ he exclaimed and leaned back. A sharp pain shot along his spine. He yelped and moved forwards quickly, banging his head on a piece of hard plastic. He swore. Tears begin to well up but he forced them back, angrily.

  He pushed forwards again with all his strength and pulled at Chloe’s helmet. It lifted a few centimetres before knocking against a lump of concrete lodged just inside the door of the Cage. It would have to do. He yanked the tube from his belt and stuffed it under the helmet. Then he tried to shake her shoulder.

  Abu heard a groan and felt Chloe move.

  ‘Chloe?’

  No response.

  ‘Chloe? My name’s Abu. Your machine has been buried under rubble. I managed to crawl . . .’

  She stirred, coughing, groaning. ‘Thank you,’ she said weakly.

  ‘Take the tube.’

  Chloe managed to get her mouth around the end and she sucked on it for dear life.

  Steph’s voice came over the comms. ‘Chloe!’

  ‘Hi Steph,’ she gasped, the tube at the side of her mouth. ‘We have one brave boy here.’

  ‘We certainly do. What’s your status?’

  She took another gulp of air through the tube. ‘Let’s see. Abu, can you reach my wrist? My arm’s stuck.’

  He looked around uncertainly. Then he saw Chloe’s gloved left hand, a slab of concrete lay across her forearm. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is the monitor alight?’

  He leaned over to check. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Tap it twice. You should get a management screen.’

  Abu felt a tingle of excitement. He could not believe he was helping E-Force. He touched the screen and the page came up.

  ‘Scroll down until you see “Light”. See it?’

  ‘Er . . . yes, yes, I do.’ His voice trembled.

  ‘Okay, touch that.’

  The confined space suddenly lit up with the powerful beam from Chloe’s helmet. Abu shielded his eyes for a second then peered around at the devastated interior.

  ‘What do you see?’

  ‘There’re two slabs of concrete pining you down. The one on your arm, the other across your back.’

  ‘What about the control panel – th
e plastic panel in front of me?’

  Abu shuffled around and checked over the black surface dotted with flashing lights. ‘Seems okay. It’s in one piece and there are some electronic displays working.’

  ‘About a third of the way along from the left you’ll see a panel about 10 centimetres square. Should be lit up. Is it?’

  ‘Er, yes.’ He stretched over towards the area Chloe had described.

  ‘What does it say?’ Chloe asked, an edge of tension in her voice.

  ‘It says “Online”.’

  Chloe let out a deep sigh. ‘Fantastic. Right, next, Abu, can you free the door?’

  ‘It’s jammed open with a block of concrete. I’ll try.’ He pushed against the slab.

  ‘Hang on. Is it supporting anything? Don’t bring the whole lot down on top of us.’

  ‘No. It’s on its own.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Abu pushed the slab of concrete. It shifted a few centimetres.

  ‘Chloe?’ It was Steph. ‘What are you planning? We’re digging down but it’s going to take time.’

  ‘Which is something we don’t have much of. Get everyone back, Steph. I’m going to try to lift the Cage out.’

  ‘But . . .’

  ‘No buts.’ She turned back to Abu. ‘Can you move it some more?’ she asked.

  Abu felt giddy, the air was stifling and he was drenched in sweat, but he felt more determined to succeed than ever. ‘I can do it,’ he panted and pushed again. The block moved a couple more centimetres. He took a deep breath and shoved at the block with every ounce of strength in his sinewy young body.

  The block fell away from the door of the Cage.

  ‘It’s free,’ Abu announced, his voice raspy.

  ‘Well done! Now can you get inside and close the door?’

  Abu slipped his legs under the control panel, a space just big enough for a skinny child and pulled on the door as he curled himself into a ball, his back against the block trapping Chloe’s arm. He felt its roughness scrape along his back, ripping his flesh. He stifled a yelp of pain. The door of the Cage was undamaged. It sealed tight.

  ‘Okay, last thing. Abu, can you reach up to the control panel?’

  The boy shuffled his legs along and managed to squeeze his torso around, dragging his side along the slab of concrete, making him gasp. He pulled up and could just about see the panel.

  ‘You have to touch the panel that says “Online”,’ Chloe gasped. ‘Can you reach it?’

  ‘Yes, just about.’ He reached across and touched the plastic. It felt wet and he realised his fingers were covered in blood.

  ‘Touch the panel that has a green “Elevate” sign. Then brace yourself. Okay?’

  The boy twisted slightly, his entire body screaming at him. He saw the panel and reached across, but it was too far away. He forced his fingers forwards, willing them to stretch as far as they possibly could. He could see his fingertips – they were only a millimetre or two from the panel. But he felt exhausted, the pain was cutting through him and sweat ran into his eyes. Worst of all, he could find so little air, his chest was burning. With one final, desperate effort he stretched out a single finger, felt the panel and touched its edge.

  It took a second for the machine to respond before it jolted backwards. There was a loud grinding of metal and concrete. A desk, still almost intact, slammed against the front of the Cage and the machine began to shudder. Abu gripped the edge of the plastic panel and felt himself being squeezed back against the concrete slab lying between him and Chloe. Then, in a single swift movement, the incredibly powerful machine eased backwards. The concrete and debris and the rubble and the twisted steel beams all fell away. The Cage staggered upright, buried waist high in the wreckage.

  Chloe managed to manoeuvre her body forwards a few centimetres. The blocks that had trapped her fell backwards into the rear of the Cage. Pulling off her helmet, she looked down and saw the bloodied face of her saviour, Abu, smiling at her, his teeth brilliant white against the grime and red smears.

  80

  Steph was first to reach the Cage. She grabbed at the door and tried to pull it open but it had stuck fast. ‘Chloe?’ she said into her comms.

  ‘Steph.’

  ‘What’s your status?’

  ‘In one piece . . . just.’

  Frank and two of the men from Charlotte’s group, Geoff Bannister, a tall, thin, middle-aged man and his son Craig, a strapping 19-year-old who had been a powerhouse in digging down to Chloe, stepped forwards.

  ‘Door’s jammed,’ Steph said, turning as the three men stopped beside her. They were all panting from the exertion. ‘Lock mechanism must have been compromised.’

  She looked into the machine and could see Abu’s face and caught a glimpse of Chloe. She was lying back against the concrete blocks that had trapped her. These were now wedged against the rear of the Cage. She was conscious but looked pretty beaten-up.

  ‘Stand back,’ Steph ordered, raised her hand and pointed her vector laser at the lock. Depressing a control on the wrist monitor, the lock vaporised.

  ‘Wow!’ Craig Bannister exclaimed.

  Steph ignored him and yanked again at the door handle. It opened outwards without resistance. Pulling herself up the recessed steps on the side of the Cage, she leaned into the cabin. ‘Abu? You hurt?’

  He shook his head and started to unfurl himself from the confined space he had squeezed into. He let out a pained gasp.

  ‘You’re injured.’

  ‘I’m okay,’ the boy responded, pulling himself clear of the console. He fell into Steph’s arms. She helped him out and down the steps. He slipped from the final step and Frank dashed forwards to catch him. The others had all reached the Cage.

  Frank carried Abu away as Steph turned back to Chloe. ‘Can you move?’

  ‘Not really. My suit is damaged but the nanobots are working. I’ve set them to fix me up.’

  ‘Where are you hurt?’

  ‘Can’t tell.’

  Steph manoeuvred herself into the confined space inside the cabin and managed to twist around so she could use Chloe’s wrist computer. She tapped at the screen and read the data flowing slowly downward.

  ‘Well, Doc?’ Chloe gasped and tried to move.

  ‘You need urgent attention. Broken arm, fractured leg . . .’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Internal bleeding, punctured spleen. You released painkillers?’

  ‘Just now. They’re starting to kick in . . . Oh, yeah, that’s better.’

  ‘I’m going to try to free you and get you out. You okay with that?’

  ‘Do I have a choice?’

  ‘No!’

  Steph leaned around behind Chloe, checking for any obstruction. There was a large rock immediately behind her spine. A plastic panel had come away from the console and was lying across her abdomen. Steph left the rock and eased away the plastic panel. ‘Try moving towards the front.’

  Chloe took a deep breath and then screamed in pain as she moved forwards.

  Then Steph saw it, a length of steel tubing about two centimetres in diameter protruding from Chloe’s thigh. The seat under her and the floor of the Cage were soaked with blood. She took a deep breath and turned to her friend. ‘You’re impaled,’ she said quietly.

  Chloe’s eyes widened. ‘Where?’

  ‘Your leg. You’ve lost a lot of blood.’ She glanced at her friend’s wrist monitor and tapped the screen. ‘Okay, Chloe. I want you to stay very still.’

  ‘You’re going to get it out.’

  ‘No! Worst thing to do. I’m going to cut the pipe below and above the entry point.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Steph leaned forwards, shifting her arm under the remains of Chloe’s seat and managed to get her head around the far side so she could see where the tube had entered. Bringing up her wrist, she changed the vector laser parameters on her monitor and then activated it. The beam sliced through the pipe as though it had never been there. She then pulled herself cl
ear of the chair, twisted herself around in the cramped space, adjusted the laser settings again and flicked the beam across the pipe close to the leg of Chloe’s suit. A length of tube 20 centimetres long clattered to the floor of the Cage.

  ‘How’re the painkillers?’ Steph asked.

  ‘Let’s see, shall we?’ Chloe gripped Steph’s wrists. ‘One two . . . three.’

  Chloe rose from the seat a few centimetres and cried out in agony. Steph caught her before she could fall back.

  ‘I’m okay,’ Chloe hissed through clenched teeth.

  Steph was jammed against the doorframe of the Cage but managed to turn and grip the edge of the door with one hand while holding Chloe upright with the other, her arm wedged under her shoulder. Mohammed pulled himself onto the recessed steps in the side of the machine and helped Steph get Chloe down to the floor.

  As they lowered the injured woman to the ground, they all heard a series of creaking sounds from the inside of the Cage. A burst of light shot from the cabin and a noise like a thunderclap reverberated around the stairwell. The Cage shook almost imperceptibly and went very quiet.

  ‘I think that thing’s even worse off than me!’ Chloe whispered.

  81

  72 metres beneath the English Channel

  ‘What the fucking hell is going on?’ Adam Franklin exclaimed as Pete and Josh ran through the doorway into the storeroom of the Maintenance Hub. The Englishman’s forehead was wet with perspiration and the terrible stress he was under was clear in the lines of his face. One of his trouser legs had been cut at the knee and he had a bandage around his calf. Mai had cut the ties at their wrists.

  Behind him stood Louis Chabon and the steward, Gabir. Mary sat on the floor at the back of the room cradling Billy, the biohazard suits they had used lying in a heap beside them. Mai saw Josh and ran over to embrace him.

  ‘Ow!’ he exclaimed and lifted his hand. Pete had cut the ties but the middle fingers of his right hand were bruised black. ‘Busted, I think.’

  Mai ran her medscan over Josh’s hand and shook her head. ‘Not broken, dislocated joints.’ She removed a Vasjet, a needleless injection, from her med-kit and shot some painkillers into Josh’s hand. ‘You should start to feel that in a few seconds.’