S and S had long gone by the time Mrs. Chambers got back, but Oz was having difficulty hiding his change of mood and the fact that the artefacts were now under his pillow.
“My, you are feeling better, aren’t you? What was in that water, I wonder?”
Oz shrugged. “Just looking forward to getting out of here. Did you bring me any clothes, Mum? I don’t want to go home in my pyjamas.”
“I did, indeed. Clean jeans, T-shirt and a hoody. Standard Oz uniform.”
“So, can I change now?”
Mrs. Chambers took the hint and made herself scarce, while Oz changed and quickly tucked the fused pebble and dor into a zipped inside pocket of his sweatshirt. All his blood tests turned out to be normal, and by eleven-thirty Oz and his mother were on their way home.
As they drove through a damp December Seabourne, he borrowed her phone to text Ellie and Ruff and, plucking up as much courage as he could muster, asked, “Mum, can Ellie and Ruff come over later?”
His mother’s expression was not encouraging. “I’m not sure that’s such a great idea, Oz.”
“But we’ve got loads to talk about. And they’ll definitely want to make sure I’m okay,” he pleaded, and then added hurriedly, “Not to stay the night or anything.”
Mrs. Chambers sighed. “Okay, but it’s early to bed for you tonight, with no arguments.”
Oz grinned and began texting furiously again.
Penwurt looked none the worse for wear from the front, but an acrid stench hung in the air wherever they went. Oz and his mother took a stroll around the side of the house to inspect the damage. What was left of the basement’s charred contents had been dumped outside in a soggy black mess. All the doors to the orphanage were open to let the air in, and the ground level windows had all been blown out. Streaks of black soot smeared the walls and windowsills like blood from a wound.
Seeing it sent a shudder through Oz and he didn’t linger; too many what-might-have-been thoughts crowded in. Instead, he went to the warm kitchen, made tea and toast with extra jam and took them up to the library. The panel door was closed and, using Essence, Alum, Soap, and Tin, he opened it up again just to see if it still worked. It did. Inside, the passageway was dark and uninviting and the acrid aroma drifting up from below seemed even stronger, so he suppressed a shiver and shut the panel again quickly. He spent a pleasant hour or two decorating the library with old-school paper chains and cardboard snowmen he’d found in a cupboard, as well as a miniature, nine-inch high, silver tinsel Christmas tree, complete with a glowing star at its apex.
Ellie and Ruff arrived mid-afternoon, but Oz didn’t go down to meet them. Instead, he asked Mrs. Chambers to send them straight up to his room and threw himself into bed, feigning sleep. Through a millimetre slit of barely open lids, Oz watched as they tiptoed into his bedroom. He saw them exchange shocked, worried glances, and then he sat bolt upright and yelled “Surprise!” They were so startled that Ellie actually screamed.
“You total armpit, Oz,” she said, clutching her hand to her chest. “We were really worried about you.”
“And so you should be, letting yourselves be tricked by Rollins like that,” Oz tutted behind a wide grin. He was well pleased with his surprise.
“The git tricked you, too, mate,” Ruff said.
“You are such a gonk,” Ellie said, still not having quite recovered from Oz’s prank. She threw a pillow at his head for good measure, but laughed and shook her head as she did so. Oz jumped out of bed, opened the drawn curtains to let in what little afternoon light there was and saw that huge, charcoal-coloured storm clouds were gathering in the west.
Oz looked at his friends and smiled. But the smile he got in return looked a touch forced and uncertain. A little bubble of awkward silence grew as Ellie and Ruff just stood there, looking oddly uncomfortable and glancing at one another.
“What’s up with you two?” Oz asked when he could stand it no longer.
Ellie let out a tremulous sigh. “We’ve been talking and…”
“We just wanted to say sorry,” Ruff blurted out.
“Sorry?” Oz stared at them. “Why?”
“Because…” Ellie faltered. “Because if I hadn’t just blundered into the passages like I did, or made Lucy Bishop go ape ’cos I kicked her brother when all you were trying to do was make friends with him, maybe none of this would have happened.”
“And if I hadn’t been so buzzardly convinced that there was treasure to find so that I could get rich,” Ruff said, “I wouldn’t have been so keen to solve the symbols and…”
“Ruff’s right. I am like a cow in a crystal maze,” Ellie added miserably. “Oh, Oz, if you’d been hurt or…or…” She trailed off, her lip trembling.
“And I swear, I’m going to give up the Xbox after this,” Ruff said, his face pink. “Dad says it’s filling my head with so much weirdness that I can’t tell what’s real and—”
“You’re right,” Oz said softly, interrupting Ruff. “If it hadn’t been for the two of you, I wouldn’t have ended up in hospital. But if it hadn’t been for you, Ellie, Lucy Bishop would have brained me with a hammer. You saved my life in that room. And if it hadn’t been for you, Ruff, we’d never have solved the puzzle, treasure or no treasure, because I know I didn’t have a clue. We’re in this together. We’re a team, aren’t we? That’s what’s important. That’s all there is to it.”
They were quiet, and for a while all Ellie and Ruff did was study their shoes.
“Think it’ll snow?” Ellie asked eventually as she glanced out of the window and dabbed at her eyes.
“Too warm,” Oz said.
“Anyway, who cares?” added Ruff. “If Oz doesn’t tell us what went on in that basement soon, I’m going to explode. Before you do, though, I don’t know if it’s just me, but is anyone else starving?”
Ellie made eyes to the ceiling, but they went down to the kitchen anyway, because Ellie’s mum had made mini pizzas and a cake in celebration of them all having come through their ordeal relatively unscathed, and Mrs. Chambers had laid them out on the table in readiness. She fussed over the three of them as usual, making sure they had enough of everything as they piled the food onto paper plates.
Oz had watched his mother carefully since they’d come back from the hospital. Perhaps it was just tiredness on her part, but he couldn’t help noticing that her hands trembled as she handed out the cutlery, and her smile seemed a little forced. He glanced at the calendar and felt a tiny shiver of relief pass through him. The black dog was completely hidden. But it had been a hard couple of days for his mother as well, he told himself. Maybe what he was seeing was simply a bit of nervous reaction.
Mrs. Chambers issued strict orders that the orphanage was off-limits, but that was an unnecessary warning. None of them wanted to go back there yet. Instead, they took the food and sat in the library’s comfy chairs.
“Festive,” Ruff said on seeing the Christmassy effort Oz had made.
“Brilliant,” Ellie agreed.
They munched pizza and listened in awe as Oz gave them a blow-by-blow account of what happened. When he got to the bit where S and S had revealed the pebble and the dor and produced them with a “ta-da” flourish, even Ruff stopped chewing to gawp in disbelief. Ellie ran her finger over the slight protuberance the dor made in the pebble’s smooth surface and shook her head. “I would never have said it fitted there.”
“And you say that Rollins was trying to pump it full of electricity?” Ruff asked, his brows knitting.
“That’s what it looked like to me,” Oz said.
As if on cue, the first distant boom of thunder rolled out over the sky to the west and a few spots of rain spattered against the turret panes.
“So, how did you two get out of that room?” Oz asked finally, feeling like he’d been the only one talking for what seemed like hours.
“Firemen,” Ruff said. “But they smashed down the real door, not the secret passage one.”
“I expect they’ll all be boarded up now,” Ellie said wistfully.
“You reckon?” Oz smiled. “All the more reason to explore them again, then, once they repair the basement.”
“Buzzard,” Ruff said, grinning. “Chuck us a slice of cake, Ellie.”
Ellie sighed and handed him another slice. “I don’t know why, but I feel really sorry for Lucy Bishop.”
“Yeah, know what you mean,” Ruff said through chipmunk cheeks. “I generally feel sorry for loonies that come after me with hammers, all the while screaming blue murder.”
“Shut up, Ruff. And don’t speak with your mouth full, it’s disgusting. All I’m saying is that it must be awful knowing your brother has been turned into some sort of a…”
“Polecat. Rollins confirmed it.” Oz nodded. “My guess is that Gerber’s used fifth artefact technology to find a way of capturing what it’s like to be an animal…” He let his words trail off before adding quietly, “Rollins really enjoyed telling me that being a cheetah going in for the kill was the best experience he’d ever had.”
“Ugh,” Ellie said, making a face.
“Do you think that’s what’s happened to Gerber’s driver?” Ruff asked. “You know, the one you said looked really weird?”
Oz remembered the sight of the chauffeur beginning to unfurl himself from the front seat of the Rolls Royce and let his voice drop to a whisper. “Maybe. I mean, if Edward Bishop thought he was a polecat, why not turn someone into a snake or—”
“A vampire bat,” Ruff said, his eyes suddenly very large.
No one said anything for almost a minute. It was Oz who finally spoke.
“When I was in the hospital, all I could think about was Gerber. Let’s say he’s covered his tracks with fake birth certificates and stuff, and that he’s really as old as we think he is. I’ve seen him up close, remember, and whatever’s happened to make him live this long hasn’t stopped the ageing process completely, it’s just slowed it all down. Just one look at him tells you that.”
“So, maybe being close to the artefacts affects the way time passes?” Ellie said.
Ruff was nodding. Drawing on his vast Xbox experience, he said, “In Reanimator 12, there are these time bubbles…”
“Ru-uff,” Ellie said crossly.
“No, listen,” Ruff argued. “All I’m saying is that maybe the artefacts bring a bit of wherever they’re from with them. And maybe it rubs off, like…like a sort of dimensional bubble which lets you use up someone else’s time and not your own. That’s what happens in—”
“Reanimator 12. Yeah, we got that bit,” Ellie said, but although her words still dripped with sarcasm, she was looking at Oz a lot more pensively now.
“However it works, I bet Gerber’s desperate to find a way to make it permanent,” Oz said. “That’s why he wants the other artefacts so badly.”
“And since the artefacts are tied up with Bunthorpe and Penwurt, that’s why he wants this place, too,” Ellie whispered.
There was another roll of thunder, at which Ruff snapped his head up towards the window. The storm was coming nearer. Rain started hammering on the panes with such ferocity they had to shout to be heard.
“Let’s go down and play some Xbox. It’s too noisy up here,” Ruff suggested.
“Thought you were giving it up,” Ellie said, and earned a withering glance in reply.
“First I need to hide this.” Oz took out the pebble and the dor and looked around for an appropriate spot.
“Could try the passage,” Ruff suggested.
“No,” said Ellie. “I know just the place.” She fetched the ladder, climbed up the bookcase and took down a heavy, black, leather-bound tome. Inside, a space had been cut out of the pages in the shape of a hip flask.
Oz laughed. “When did you find this?”
“First time we looked for Morsman stuff.”
“It’s perfect,” Oz said. He slipped the artefacts in and read the spine. “The Victorian Gentleman’s Guide to Herbalism. Don’t think we’ll forget that one very easily.”
In his bedroom, while Ellie and Ruff played Xbox, Oz fired up his laptop and Skyped S and S.
“Just wanted to thank you properly for everything,” he said when their faces appeared on the screen.
“We’re glad you’re home,” said S and S together.
Ellie shot Oz a look full of wary incredulousness and, off-camera, mouthed, “Are they for real?”
Ruff groaned as a bear-droid from Pluton 6 imploded on the Xbox screen. “I wish I could get past this Octodecimator. He gets me every time,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Is your friend playing Death Planet Hub?” Savannah asked.
“Playing and losing,” laughed Oz.
“We know how to beat the Octo-decimator,” Sydney said.
“What?” said Ruff, coming around to join Oz in front of his laptop. Half a minute later, Oz looked on, bemused, as Ruff perched the laptop so that the camera was on the Xbox screen and proceeded to take a master class in Death Planet Hub from S and S.
“I think I’ve seen it all now,” Ellie muttered, shaking her head in amusement.
The storm was gathering strength with the onset of darkness. Through the window, Oz saw a car’s lights pull up on the street outside. A figure huddled inside a coat got out and hurried in through the gate.
“Where are you going?” Ellie asked as Oz rushed out.
“Said I’d meet Caleb in the tenants’ kitchen,” he said, and didn’t stop to explain.
Caleb was sitting at the table when Oz got there, his coat hanging on the chair next to him, a small pool of rain beneath it. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were full of troubled wariness. He didn’t get up.
“Oz, I am so sorry for what happened.”
“Mum said that, too,” Oz said. “Though I can’t see how it’s your fault or hers.”
“I should have known Lucy was heading for trouble. And as for Rollins…” Caleb rubbed the back of his neck in despair. He kept his gaze on the table as he spoke. “I think I owe you a bit of an explanation.”
“Yeah, so do I,” Oz said.
It earned him a glance from Caleb, but no immediate words.
“Mum thinks Rollins and Lucy Bishop were working together. They weren’t, were they?”
Caleb shook his head. “Rollins managed to slip under everyone’s radar. But he did know Edward Bishop. He was part of the same research team. He lost his job in disgrace after the experiments, and was trying to get back into Gerber’s good books by finding the artefacts.”
“So he was working for Gerber.”
“Indirectly.” Caleb nodded. “But there’ll be no proof.”
“Lucy Bishop tried to smash the artefacts when we found her. She blames me for what happened to her brother. Why did she do that?”
“There are things about Gerber that not many people know or would understand,” Caleb said, looking suddenly awkward.
“Do you mean the fact that he has a fifth artefact and has been experimenting with it ever since he found it or stole it from the Shoesmiths in 1914?”
For the first time that Oz could ever remember, Caleb’s mouth fell open in dumbstruck wonder.
“How…?”
“Me, Ellie and Ruff, we make a very good team,” Oz said, and allowed himself a small grin at Caleb’s surprise.
“So, you know that one of his so-called experiments made Edward Bishop very ill. Lucy was supposed to be protecting you. But in truth, she was trying to find the artefacts to see if they could help her brother. I didn’t know he was in the park all this time.”
“Is that why she followed us when we went to Garret and Eldred’s?”
“She was actually making sure that Gerber’s men weren’t following you. Unfortunately, it was all proving too much for her. Like her brother, she is very clever, but she’s also what some people like to call highly-strung. She must have snapped and stolen the artefacts to try and use them herself. She failed and then turned on them.”
“And on me. Lucky Ellie’s a blue belt in taekwando.”
Caleb said nothing.
“Rollins said something about Lucy. He said she was Obex. Was she?”
Caleb sighed and looked out of the window. He seemed to be weighing things up in his mind. Finally, he turned back and said, “Obex is a society sworn to keep the artefacts from getting into the wrong hands.”
“Puffers’ hands?”
Caleb let out a mirthless laugh. “You lot ought to work for MI5. Yes, Puffers. Greedy, meddling, ignorant people, like Gerber, who think that the artefacts have been sent for their benefit.”
“What do you mean, sent?”
Caleb’s eyes held Oz’s gaze now. “Some people think that the artefacts aren’t from here, Oz. I mean, the here that we live in every second of every day. Some people think that they’re from somewhere else.”
It was suddenly very quiet in the kitchen as the storm abated momentarily. Oz looked up at the window. The night was impenetrable beyond it.
“You mean, like another planet?” he whispered.
Caleb shrugged. “Planet, existence, universe, who knows? Somewhere different, definitely. But some of us think they’re here for a reason. And that reason is not to turn people like Edward Bishop into feral lunatics.”
Oz was remembering snatches of conversation between Caleb and Lucy Bishop, and suddenly he looked at his father’s friend as if seeing him for the first time.
“You’re Obex, too, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am, Oz. And so was my father, and his father, too. We took an oath. As I told you before, our prime concern is for the artefacts. Sometimes that makes our choices… difficult.”
Oz didn’t quite understand what Caleb meant by that, but he wanted to know more. “Did my dad know?”
“Yes, he did. And I made him some promises.”
“What sort of promises?”
“Amongst others, that if the artefacts found their way to you, I’d help protect you.” Caleb’s eyes fell away. “And I failed in that promise.”
But Oz was intrigued. “What do you mean, found their way?”
“Exactly that. It’s one of their abiding mysteries. They choose people. Morsman. Your dad. You. None of this is an accident.”
“The Puffers, do they know all this?”
“They do.”
Oz shivered, but then looked down and shook his head. “You’re going to have to explain all this to Mum. Make her listen. She doesn’t believe anything I tell her. I know she doesn’t want to believe you, either, but something happened in that basement. Something I can’t explain yet. But Mum wants to leave here, and I can’t, not now.”
Caleb shook his head. “Oz, I…”
“You have to,” Oz pleaded. “I know this stuff isn’t good for her. I can see what it’s doing to her already, and I don’t want her to be like she was before, but we owe it to Dad to stay here and find out what all this means.” There was a long moment of loaded silence in which Oz did not let his gaze fall away from Caleb’s face. Finally, Caleb nodded.
“Okay, I’ll try,” he said. “But I’m not hopeful.”
Relieved, Oz led the way up to the second floor and across to the spiral staircase that took them back down to the main kitchen. Mrs. Chambers sat at the table, an empty glass in front of her and a bottle of unopened malt whiskey next to it. She looked up, defiant, as Oz entered.
“Well, if your dad could do it…” she said with a shaky, unconvincing smile.
“Mum?” Oz said in a panicky voice, but then Caleb entered the room behind him.
“What do you want?’ she said, her mouth suddenly ugly.
Caleb looked first at the glass and then at Mrs. Chambers. “Gwen, we need to talk.”
“After what’s just happened here?” Mrs. Chambers demanded.
“Especially after what has just happened here.”
“What is there to talk about? Rollins is in custody, Lucy Bishop is in hospital. Penwurt is still standing.” She raised her glass in mock salute.
Caleb was shaking his head. “This is just the beginning. The Puffers…”
“Puffers? That’s another one, is it? Another of those stupid, silly little words like ‘artefact’ and ‘Obex?’”
“If you’d let me explain…”
But Mrs. Chambers was shaking her head. “I don’t want to let you explain. Michael was always trying to explain, and look where it got him!” Anger flared and she thumped the empty glass back down onto the table.
“Mum…” Oz started to say, but she silenced him with a look.
“Stop it. I won’t have any of this superstitious claptrap in my house. I won’t stand for it.”
She pushed herself away from the table and walked to the fridge. “You want to know how I’m really feeling, Oz?” She turned to the calendar and ripped it away from the magnets to reveal Oz’s childishly ugly drawing in all its glory underneath.
Oz felt all the blood drain from his face.
“There! That’s how I’m feeling, okay? The black dog is well and truly out of its kennel. And having him here spouting his rubbish”—she pointed at Caleb—“makes it ten times worse. Can’t you see, Oz? It’s poison. All of it is pure poison. How many more people are going to get hurt because of some ridiculous made-up nonsense?” Her face suddenly hardened. “Well, I know one thing, it isn’t going to be me or mine anymore. As soon as the insurance money is settled for the fire, that’s it. I’ve made up my mind. We’re off.” She turned her burning eyes on Caleb. “Then you and your Puffers can have this place and everything that’s…”
There was a sudden blinding flash of light followed by a clap of thunder that shook the crockery and sent at least one pan crashing to the kitchen floor. The house was plunged into darkness. From somewhere upstairs there was a strange thudding sound. Oz felt his way to the mudroom and groped around for a torch.
“Have we just been hit by lightning?” Oz asked when he got back to the kitchen, pointing the beam first at his mother and then at Caleb.
“I think so. But the turret roof has a conductor,” Caleb added in reassuring tones.
“Great,” said Mrs. Chambers in a voice that dripped acid, “even the weather has it in for me.” She took the torch from Oz and found some candles, which she quickly lit and placed into saucers dotted around the kitchen.
But Caleb wasn’t going to let things lie. “Gwen, hasn’t what has happened here opened your eyes? There’s danger lurking. A real danger that won’t go away, even if you move.”
“Grow up!” yelled Mrs. Chambers, rounding on him, and in the candlelit room her face looked monstrous, deformed by her anger.
“Oz?” Ruff’s voice called to him from upstairs.
Oz took the torch and ran up the stairs. The bedroom was empty when he got there, so he doubled back and went straight to the library. Ellie and Ruff surveyed the room, using their phones as torches to illuminate a floor covered with books.
“Nothing broken,” Ellie said. “We just heard this tremendous crash. Must have blown all the books off the shelves.”
“Almost blew out the Xbox, too,” Ruff said with real concern.
“What’s that smell?” Oz asked,
“Ozone,” Ruff said. “Lightning makes that.”
“Some of these books are still steaming,” Ellie said, picking up one that looked more than a bit charred.
“It’s hot inside a lightning bolt,” Ruff said.
“You don’t say,” Ellie replied tartly.
After a heavy and awkward little pause, Ruff asked, “Is everything all right with your mum, Oz? We heard shouting…”
“No, it’s about as not all right as it could be,” Oz said, feeling his face burn at the memory of his mother with the whiskey. But then he remembered about the pebble and the dor. “What about The Victorian Gentleman’s Guide to Herbalism? Have you checked it?”
“Got it. Yeah, all okay.” Oz watched as Ellie opened the book and took out the pebble. “Ow, it’s really hot. And look, it’s glowing.” She ran her thumb over the lit-up maker’s mark and handed it to Ruff, who did the same.
“Must have had the full force of the strike,” Ruff said.
Oz took it from him. It felt like a baked potato in his hand, and the maker’s mark was glowing bright yellow, much brighter than he’d ever seen it before. Without really thinking, Oz put his thumb over it. He sensed the change at once. It was like flicking on a switch inside his head. He’d felt it before, in the basement last night, only this time there were no wavy lines or flickering images, just the feeling of a door opening and of something dropping into place. He realised suddenly that it was much lighter in the room than a moment ago.
Oz heard Ellie gasp, quickly followed by a shaky “Wow,” from Ruff. Oz spun around and saw what had caused Ruff’s surprise. In the centre of the room stood a girl with coffeecoloured skin, short dark hair and grey eyes. She wore a short-sleeved orange tunic and seemed to glow from within, like a TV set.
“Welcome, Oscar Chambers.”
Oz couldn’t speak. He’d seen the face and heard the voice before, in his head, but this was… He glanced at Ellie and Ruff and stammered, “Ca…can you see her, too?”
Ellie nodded. Ruff swallowed loudly and said tremulously, “Is it a genie?”
The girl turned to Ruff. “I am a Siliconano Osaka-Protocol Holoquantum five fifty point…” Her voice petered out and she looked momentarily confused. “Apologies. Memcore analysis reveals permanent damage has been sustained to manufacturer attribution comms.”
Oz had no idea what she was talking about, but he couldn’t help noticing that she shimmered slightly and seemed to hover a good two inches off the floor. She was older than them by perhaps four or five years. Her accent was slightly odd, but Oz couldn’t put his finger on why.
“Who are you?” Oz asked.
“I am a Siliconano Osaka-Protocol Holoquantum—”
“Soph,” Ellie said brightly. “S.O.P.H, Soph. As in Sophie.”
Ruff’s face cumpled in cringing alarm. He put a hand up to his mouth and whispered to Ellie, “Soph? Are you mad? She’s some sort of alien spirit, not a piece of furniture.”
“I have no objection to that name,” said Soph.
“Do you have anything to do with the pebble?” Ellie asked, throwing Ruff a triumphant grin.
Oz felt a faint tickle in his head, and then the girl said, “You are referring to the base unit, Ellie Messenger. Yes, I am the base unit’s avatar.”
“How do you know my name?” Ellie said, startled.
“I have accessed your preferred epithet through Oscar’s database.”
“Ask her to speak English,” Ruff hissed.
“I know what she means,” Oz said in a whisper. “She’s getting your names from me. I can feel her inside my head.”
Ruff stared at him as if he’d suddenly turned bright purple.
“So, let’s get this straight. You are the pebble? You are the artefact?” Ellie went on.
Oz felt another tickle. “If by artefact and pebble, you are referring to the base unit, then the answer is yes.”
“I’ve seen you before,” Oz said, “in my head.”
The girl inclined her head. “Limited power has not allowed full manifestation up until this point. The base unit is damaged and the main memsource and cognitive linkage devices are disconnected.”
“Does she mean the other two artefacts?” Ruff whispered. “The pendant and the ring?”
This time she answered Ruff directly. “I do, Ruff.”
Ruff staggered back against the wall. “Whoa, she knows who I am, too,” he quavered.
“The lightning,” Oz said. “Of course. It switched the pebble on, somehow.”
“Correct,” said Soph. “My severely depleted power source has been charged through a recent antimatter positron emission.” She tilted her head and smiled. “Otherwise known as lightning.”
“Then how come the mark glowed before, if you were so low on power?” Oz asked.
“The base unit is designed to absorb many forms of energy—radio waves, light, heat. Enough to allow hibernating functions such as REM sleep linkage.”
“REM sleep linkage?” Ellie asked.
“Does that mean helping me with revision? Maths, for example?” Oz already knew the answer, because somehow it was already inside his head. But he also knew that Ellie and Ruff needed to hear it.
Soph nodded. “A modular sublimsert was all that was required. You were already in possession of the knowledge; a modification of your perception output was all that was necessary.”
Ruff was still wide-eyed. He mouthed “SUBLIMSERT?” fearfully to Oz.
Soph answered before Oz could ask. “It is simply a synaptic rerouting and reinforcement programme which runs without the need for consciousness.”
“So, in other words, you read my mind while I was asleep, knew what I was struggling with and then pimped my brain for maths?” Oz asked.
“Yes,” Soph said, “in other words.”
“Told you she was a genie,” Ruff whispered unhappily.
“Is it permanent?” Oz asked.
“Of course.”
Oz was helpless to prevent a grin from spreading from one ear to the other.
“But where are you from?” Ruff asked, finally addressing Soph directly.
Soph tilted her head slightly and blinked. “That information remains with the memsource.”
“I suppose it’s no good asking why you’re here, then, either, is it?” Ellie asked.
Soph blinked.
“But how come you didn’t appear when Ellie or Ruff pressed the mark?” Oz demanded.
“The base unit has a genlock,” Soph said. “Access is through a DNA key. You are the only one who matches.”
Of all the things she’d said, that was the one that made Oz look for a chair and sit down heavily. “So Caleb is right. The artefacts do find their way to people.”
“It has been two hundred and fifty-two years since the key was programmed,” Soph said.
Oz’s maths brain did the computation. “But the Bunthorpe Encounter was in 1761 and it’s 2012 now. I make that two hundred and fifty one years ago.”
“That is correct.”
“So something happened in 1760,” Ellie said.
Soph said nothing.
“Don’t tell me. Memsource missing,” Ruff said.
“It was you who put the images on Oz’s laptop, too, wasn’t it? The image of the dor and the cinder symbol?” Ellie said.
“That is correct,” Soph said.
“But why?”
“A prime directive.”
“So long as we know,” Ruff said, looking increasingly perplexed.
“Oz’s laptop gave off enough heat for me to absorb energy for single message transfer. The ‘dor,’ as you describe it, is the base unit power source. Its appearance was a device error message so that the user could rectify if so desired. The symbol, however, was programmed as a primary directive.”
“Clear as mud,” Ruff said, looking totally lost.
“She means that the dor is her battery. It was flagged up as an error message, just like an ‘out of ink’ message on a printer when you need to change the cartridge,” Oz explained. “But the cinder symbol was something she had to deliver. The message we were meant to get.”
Soph looked calmly at him but didn’t elaborate.
Oz thought furiously. This was amazing, brain-boggling stuff. Everything everyone had ever said or believed about the artefacts was true, and he was hearing it from the mouth of a mysterious avatar who had no idea where she was from or why she was here. He realised what the Bunthorpe Encounter was all about. If Soph had shown herself to those bell ringers, they would have totally freaked out. As it was, Ruff looked like he was about to throw up. Oz felt himself tingling from head to foot. If only his dad could be here to see this. When he looked up, Soph was watching him intently.
“You are sad, Oz. Would you like to see Michael Chambers?”
The world suddenly tilted on its axis. It was a long moment before he said anything. Ellie and Ruff just stared.
“What did you say?” Oz whispered.
“Basic functions include holotrack recording. Would you like to see the day your father found me?”
Oz heard footsteps in the stairwell and his mother’s still-angry voice calling to him.
“Oz, is everything all right up here?”
But he wasn’t listening. He didn’t even have to say it. In his mind, Oz thought one word. Yes.
He saw his mother and Caleb walk into the library, her face as dark and cold as the passages behind the library wall in the dim light from the candle she held before her. Caleb followed, looking unhappy and strained.
But then something so weird and so unexpected began to happen that Oz forgot the tension between Caleb and his mother. He forgot everything, because, in front of his eyes, the library melted away to reveal another place full of bright daylight. He could still see Ellie and Ruff and Caleb and his mother and the books on the floor, but this new place was all around him, like a film projected on the walls of the library, but in three dimensions.
Oz leaned back in his chair and instinctively shut his eyes before opening them again. The dim library had all but disappeared, but the other place hadn’t. It was there as plain as day. He was in a tiny shop crammed full of strange items—jars of all colours and hookahs with elaborate silver stems, urns with sealed stoppers, dried flowers hanging from the ceiling in bunches. The noise of the clattering rain was replaced by the faint clamour of a market in full swing—someone shouting out wares in a strange language, the rattle of carts on hard, dry ground. Rich odours of roses and jasmine filled Oz’s nose, and gold filigree danced in elaborate patterns around a door where the globe atlas should have been. An old-fashioned bell rang as a figure pushed the door open. Into the shop stepped a man of average height, with pale blue eyes and dark hair a tad too long for someone of his age.
Oz felt the breath catch in his throat as he watched the man wander in. The face that looked around the shop with unbridled interest was achingly familiar. Oz heard his mother gasp, but she didn’t say anything. No one said anything. They were all completely mesmerised by what they were experiencing. It was simply impossible, unfathomable and incredible, yet it was also as if they were actually there, smelling, hearing and seeing this wonderfully exotic place, which looked to be a million miles from Seabourne.
Dr. Michael Chambers crossed the small space between the door and the counter, stopping to examine the ornate urns and bits of armour on display, until a man appeared from the rear of the shop. He was dressed in a brightly coloured striped robe that stretched to his feet, and on his head was a brown fez.
Dr. Chambers smiled. “Good afternoon.” He held out his hand. “Michael Chambers. I believe you’re expecting me.”
The sound of his dad’s voice, so clear, so unmistakable, made Oz grasp the arm of his chair as a surging tingle of excitement trilled up his spine. He saw his mother put her hand over her mouth, saw Caleb’s incredulous expression, saw Ellie and Ruff gawping like idiots, and he knew that they were all seeing this miracle, too.
In the shop, the man in the long robe shook the offered hand and spoke in a heavy accent.
“Doctor Chambers, welcome to Achmed’s. It is my great pleasure to meet you.”
“What a fantastic place you have here. Was that a Phoenician Tanit amulet I saw on the way in?”
“It was. We have many things of interest here to a man of your scholarship.”
“I can see that.” Dr. Chambers looked about him in wonder.
“But that is not why you are here, I think.”
Dr. Chambers’ face rearranged itself into a wry smile. “No, it isn’t. You received my email, I gather?”
“I did. I have been expecting you. As for the item in question, I have it here.”
The shopkeeper turned and reached up to a shelf, from which he took a small wooden tray, upon which nestled the obsidian pebble.
Oz had a moment to wonder how it was they were seeing this, when the source of the image—or whatever it was they were experiencing—was surely the pebble itself. If there was a camera somewhere, why wasn’t it in the pebble? But there was too much going on in the shop to make him dwell on this conundrum.
Dr. Chambers stared at the pebble and then looked up into the shopkeeper’s face. “May I?” he whispered.
The shopkeeper smiled and shrugged. “Of course.”
Dr. Chambers took the pebble and held it up to the light. “The craftsmanship, it’s incredible. It’s like nothing I have ever seen,” he said in awe. “And you’re sure it’s for sale?”
“For sale?” The shopkeeper frowned. “Unfortunately no, it is not for sale.”
Dr. Chambers’ face clouded. “But I understood—”
The shopkeeper held up his hand. “Doctor Chambers, may I ask that you do one small thing?”
“What?”
“On the underside there is a symbol. See…here…the maker’s mark. Please, let your thumb rest on the symbol.”
Michael Chambers did as he was asked. “Like this? It feels…goodness…” The symbol glowed a faint yellow beneath his thumb. “Is that supposed to happen?”
The shopkeeper fixed Dr. Chambers with a wide-eyed stare. “It is supposed to happen, but it has never happened in my lifetime.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” said the shopkeeper with a fierce conviction, “that though the pebble is not for sale, it is yours by right.”
Dr. Chambers looked up, shocked. “By right? But…”
Again, the shopkeeper held up his hand. “We both know what this really is. Achmed’s has existed in this bazaar for centuries. We have sold many exotic and valuable artefacts. But this item…it is not ours to sell. We are merely its keepers. We have been watching over it until its owner claims it.”
“Owner?”
“The last time the symbol lit up was almost eighty years ago. Another Englishman. Perhaps you know of whom I speak.”
Dr. Chambers nodded. “Daniel Morsman?”
“My great-grandfather was very proud of the day Daniel Morsman came to the shop,” the shopkeeper said softly. “Sadly, he was unable to make use of it, and so it was returned to us.”
“Well, that is a bit of a coincidence, since I now live in Morsman’s house. We were distantly related, you know.”
“Here at Achmed’s, we do not believe in coincidence. What is meant to be will be.”
“Then perhaps the artefacts truly do belong at Penwurt,” Dr. Chambers said, and then muttered, “At least, that’s what my research is telling me.” He hesitated, gathering his thoughts. “I have to ask—have there been other enquirers?”
“Some. But Puffers do not find any answers here.” The shopkeeper kept smiling, but there was a grim determination in his eyes.
“Is it safe for me to leave with it? I have a flight out of Cairo tonight.”
The shopkeeper tilted his head. “These are difficult times. Airport security might prove, how shall I put it, awkward? Should you wish to take it, I would recommend that we ship it for you. We have a very secure and discreet service, ways in which we can ensure its safe passage.”
“I would feel a lot happier.” Dr. Chambers took out a card and scribbled on it. “Send it here, and address it to Oscar Chambers.”
“Oscar Chambers?” The shopkeeper frowned.
Dr. Chambers nodded. “My son, that well-known collector of historical bric-a-brac and would-be goalie.” He let his voice drop to a conspiratorial whisper. “It’ll attract even less attention that way.”
The shopkeeper smiled and held up both hands. “Wait, wait just a moment.” He disappeared behind a beaded curtain and came back with a framed photograph of three smiling children. “These are mine. Yafeu, Sekami, and Rehema.”
“They look full of mischief,” Dr. Chambers said, beaming. He reached into his wallet and took out a photo of the Chambers family. “My wife, Gwen, and Oz,” he said, beaming still.
The shopkeeper smiled admiringly. “They are a credit to you, doctor. It must be difficult to be so far away from them.”
“It is. I miss them terribly.” Dr. Chambers’ face suddenly glowed with warmth.
“Oscar, he has your eyes and his mother’s smile.”
“He knows how to smile.” He grinned at the shopkeeper. “And so does his mother.”
“Do they know what awaits them with the arrival of the artefact?” the shopkeeper asked keenly.
“No, not yet. Neither do I, really.”
“My heart swells at knowing that you will continue the work.” The shopkeeper’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “Yet you are aware that, once it leaves here, the others will know, too.”
“I’ll be careful. You’ve seen my family. I’ve a lot to be careful for.” Dr. Chambers’ face broke into a wry smile. “Although I still haven’t worked out how I’m going to explain all this to my wife.”
“She does not believe?” asked the shopkeeper.
“Not yet.” Dr. Chambers shook his head. “That’s the next project.”
The two men shook hands and Dr. Chambers turned to leave. He still had the photograph in his hand as he reached the door. He took out his wallet, and just as he was about to replace the photo he hesitated for a second, as if seeing something for the first time; then he smiled and put the snap to his lips and kissed it. The door to the shop opened and the bell rang again. And just as quickly as it had appeared, Achmed’s faded into nothingness and they were back in the dimly lit library, the dense darkness pierced only by pools of light from torches held facing the ground.