STORM: The Infinity Code

Before long the city gave way to countryside. Will, Gaia, and Andrew sat in silence, staring at the wintry brown through the window, each taking in some of the implications of the project. And their decision.

It certainly didn’t escape Will that they looked like an odd bunch. They were dressed far from appropriately for a mission to St. Petersburg in the winter. And they were an odd bunch. A girl he barely knew—and what he did know about her wasn’t exactly usual—and Andrew, who was totally unlike anyone he’d met before. A week ago they were nothing to one another. Now they were heading to Russia.

There had been no real time to weigh the pros and cons. If there had, perhaps they’d still be in London. It wasn’t like Will made a habit of dangerous missions to far-flung places. That had been his father’s stock-in-trade.

Was he doing this because he missed his father? Because he wanted to see his mother? Or because his success at saving the private jet had gone to his head? Was he guilty of the precise arrogance of which he’d accused Andrew? Was this the reason he’d convinced them to come?

No, he told himself. Though perhaps there could be many different and valid reasons for doing one thing.

But unlike Andrew, he wasn’t naive, he thought. At least, not totally. They were fourteen years old. They were going to St. Petersburg. If Caspian had come up with a way to blast away that hotel, they had to stop that weapon. Somehow, they had to destroy it. But what sort of weapon was it? What was the Infinity Code? What did they want to launch? And who was “they” anyway?

Enough. There was no point trying to look too far ahead. They’d have to make it up as they went along, which suited him fine. And as the train sped toward the coast, Will realized that for the first time in months, he felt he was setting his own course. He was free. From Natalia and her well-meaning hospitality. From Cutler. From school. England. The past.

“I’m going to be freezing in this dress,” Gaia said. She was slouching in her broad gray chair, opposite Will and by the window, Andrew at her side. She’d been doing her own thinking. Now she wanted to drag herself out of her thoughts.

“We’ll try to buy some clothes in Paris,” Andrew said. “We have an hour and fifteen minutes.”

Andrew eyed him evenly. “I’ll give you a choice: A moment ago I used the classic though admittedly discredited CIA technique of remote viewing to peruse the train timetable in the office in London with my mind, or I asked the woman at the ticket office.”

“You’re sure Caspian’s booked on that train?” Will said, ignoring his sarcasm.

“I told the woman that we needed the next train through to Paris and on to St. Petersburg—which is of course the one Caspian would take,” Andrew said, with a touch of annoyance. “You know, I do have some intelligence, Will. You’re not the only brain around here.”

“Well, I think if we’re going to get through this all right, we’ll need to trust each other’s abilities. Don’t you?”

“There’s a safer option,” Will said. His bags were on the seat beside him. He unzipped the one closest to him.

“Next time,” Will said as he set the robot locust upright and activated the video screen. “When it’s less likely to get lost.”

There was no one else in their compartment. With a deft twitch of the remote control, Will sent the robot into a hover, then reduced its height until it flew just below the level of the seats.

A quick up and down movement allowed it to trigger the door-opening mechanism. Then it was through into the next train car and into economy class.

Will gazed intently at the screen, on the lookout for danger, as well as Caspian. The camera’s field of view was 160 degrees—not bad, but nowhere near enough to give the locust eyes in the back of its head. Worst-case scenario, someone in the blind spot thought it was a real insect and took a swipe at it.

The first economy car had been cased. She was right. No sign of Caspian. Gently, Will again manipulated the tiny, flapping robot so it triggered entry into the next car. He elevated its position, and it flew along the top of the windows. A couple of people looked up as it passed, but they looked down just as quickly. An insect wasn’t a problem if it was flying on by.

Will had already seen him. Gaia leaned over for a better look. And there he was, five rows back on the right-hand side, in a window seat with the curtain drawn. A shock of black hair. A black sweatshirt. A stylus in his right hand, scribbling electronic text on a PDA screen.

Will shook his head. “The resolution’s not good enough. I built it to make out large objects, not writing on a screen.”

Caspian Baraban seemed oblivious to his observers. But now that they knew precisely where he was, there was no sense, Will thought, in risking Caspian noticing the odd-looking insect perched on the curtain rail above his head. Will made Fly Spy reverse its flight path, back to the table and into the fuse box.

She glanced out of the window. While the robot had been hunting for Caspian, they had passed through the English Channel and into dusk. The French fields were dark and foreign. She could barely make out the trees.

“I still don’t get why the space hotel should be a secret,” she said. “And why would Vassily Baraban be involved in coming up with a weapon? What did Caspian’s notes say?”

Andrew shrugged. “They were about accelerating particles together—stripped-down gold atoms. That’s fundamental physics. It hasn’t got anything to do with any weapon.”

Andrew looked uncertain. He took off his glasses and retrieved a tiny screwdriver from his pocket. With a few sharp twists, he tightened the arms and replaced them on his nose. The routine motion helped him think. “It seemed to me it was just about colliding beams of gold ions,” he said at last. “No weapon would do that. Maybe it’s a different project. I don’t know.”

“We need to find out,” Will said. “If someone wants to take out the hotel, we have to stop them.”

“But—” With a twitch of his fingers, Andrew pushed his newly adjusted glasses back up along his nose. “How do you think we’d be able to do that—to stop them?”

“I have no idea,” Will said. “But we have to . . . We might be young, but we are not impotent. We can act. We can change the world. The only real challenge is for us to believe it.”

Andrew gave him a tight smile. “I had a feeling that speech might come back to haunt me.”

“That’s funny,” Will said. “Because when I was listening to you talk, I had a feeling that just maybe you were right.”