Eleven
Trapped
Rémy watched helplessly as Thaddeus plummeted off the end of the platform and into the depths of the machine below. There was a whirring sound and it began to shut, two halves sliding together until they were a seamless whole. The policeman disappeared from sight, trapped inside a riveted silver monster.
“Rémy!” She looked up to see J still clinging to the rail, a horrified look on his face.
The platform began to right itself again. Rémy held on to the rail until it was back in place, stunned by what had just taken place. It had all happened so quickly. One minute Thaddeus was there, the next he’d gone, just like that.
“‘E’s going to roast! Look at them flames!” J sobbed, as Rémy ran down the stairs towards the contraption.
The machine was cylindrical, but tapered to a point at the end that had opened to swallow Thaddeus. It had a large window in its side but she couldn’t see through it. The machine was standing on struts, also made of metal. Between the struts, fire belched in three great streams so hot that the centre of the flames burned white as they hit the scorched ground.
“It’s my fault,” J wailed, stumbling after her. “It’s my fault!”
She turned to him. “It was an accident, J. Just an accident.”
“I started it off! I didn’t mean to!”
The poor boy was crying piteously now, staring at the machine with tears cutting through the dirt on his face. Rémy crouched down in front of him, gripping his shoulders.
“J, listen to me. He is not dead.”
“But look at them flames!”
“There’s a window, J. Why would there be a window if it was not supposed to have people inside? Hmm?”
J blinked, looking at the metal monstrosity as his tears stopped. “Cor,” he said. “You’re right.”
“He is trapped, yes? We must get him out. And turn it off. ”
“But the lever’s broke,” whimpered J. “It won’t budge, Rémy, not for nothing.”
“There must be another way,” said Remy, hoping against hope she was right. “A machine that big, they would not have only one lever, yes? Think, J – think! The last time you were here. Can you think of anything you might have seen? More levers, somewhere else?”
J swiped a hand at his damp face. He looked blank for a moment and then brightened up, nodding. “Yeah! Yeah, there are more levers, right enough. This way!”
Rémy followed him across the room, towards the far wall. She’d lost her night-glasses, dropping them from the platform as she’d tried to save Thaddeus from falling, but luckily, seeing her way wasn’t a problem. The belching flames of the machine sent out a hot, bright glow that illuminated the cavern and cast huge, menacing shadow-shapes against the walls.
Although Remy had tried to sound confident when she reassured J, she felt anything but – her heart was pounding and she felt sick. Thaddeus couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t – could he? Not just like that, not so fast, not so suddenly. Rémy kept seeing his face as he fell away from her. He must have been scared, but he hadn’t made a sound. The last words he’d spoken had been to tell her to save J rather than himself. A brave man, indeed.
“‘Ere,” J sniffed, as they arrived at a bank of four huge metal levers. “But how do we know what one is the right one? Or if any of ‘em are? They might all be for somethin’ else.”
“We will just have to try them all,” said Rémy, though her heart was pounding. What if they started up another of these awful monstrosities? What if they made things even worse for Thaddeus? But what other choice did she have? Rémy and J grasped one each, and pushed them down. Nothing happened.
“It must be one of these,” Rémy said, of the last two. She pushed one and a huge light swelled into the cave, so bright it almost drowned out the bonfire brightness of the flames.
“Not that one!” J said, panicked.
“D’accord, d’accord…” Rémy pulled it back down, and the incredible light died again. She grabbed the final lever and wrestled with it, forcing it into position. This had to be it, or…
At first, nothing happened. The flames continued to belch, giving off a tremendous heat that could be felt even across the room. But then they began to sputter. One by one they guttered out.
“Yes!” J cried, jubilant.
Rémy wasn’t ready to celebrate yet. She went back to the machine, looking for a way in. There was one panel that wasn’t riveted – could it be a door? She pushed at it, but it did not budge and there was no handle. Rémy thumped against it, and then placed her ear to the smooth silver panel. She could hear nothing – the cylinder might as well have been solid inside. The metal was mysteriously cool, as if the flames below had had no effect on it at all.
“J,” she said. “Search for something that we can use to pry this open. Anything. Quickly!”
J ran off as she went to the window. It seemed to be covered in something that made it milky and unclear. She frowned, frustrated and bemused – why have a window that it was impossible to see through? She thumped against the glass, trying to peer through. If there was a door, why hadn’t he used it yet? Unless… unless he really was dead… She pushed the lingering thought away.
“Thaddeus!” Rémy shouted. “Thaddeus Rec! Can you hear me? Can you see me? Are you – are you alive?”
There was no answer except from J, who appeared at her side, puffing hard and with empty hands. “There’s nothin’,” he said. “Nothin’ I can lift, anyways. And what do you mean, is ‘e alive? You said –”
Rémy held up her hand. “Let me think, J. Just – let me think…”
J obediently fell silent as Rémy looked around the room again. She noticed three tunnels leading out of the cavern and into darkness. How far would they have to walk down each of them before they found something that could help them get into the machine? Then her gaze fell upon the empty suits that stood in silent rows. They had been fashioned out of the same silvery metal that made up the machine’s panels, making them impenetrable. At the joints were cogs and gears, presumably to make their weight easier to move. Though the suits seemed to be mechanical, they didn’t look as if they could move on their own. They were hollow inside, so surely they must have been designed for a person to wear.
What if she put one on? If she did, her hands would be encased in metal and would become big and heavy. Would she then be strong enough to punch a hole through this infernal contraption? Could her fingers possibly pry open that door? Or perhaps even the metal trap that Thaddeus had fallen though, if she could climb up to it in the suit? But would she even be able to work out how to control it, once inside?
* * *
Thaddeus watched from inside the machine. He banged on the glass and shouted, but they didn’t seem to hear him. He couldn’t understand why. Rémy had walked right up to the glass and looked in, but her eyes stared through him as if blind. How could she not see? She’d been staring right at him!
He’d watched as they’d worked out how to turn off the flames. The heat from them must have been intense, but he couldn’t feel it. It was as if the skin of the machine deflected the heat, so that the interior was completely cool and comfortable.
Well, not exactly comfortable. Thaddeus had hit his head as he’d fallen, and the gash above his eye was still bleeding. He looked around for something to hold over the cut, but there was nothing. He pulled his sleeve over his hand and held that to his head, instead.
“Rémy,” he shouted again, as she stood at the window, staring up at the machine. It looked as if she were contemplating scaling it. “Rémy Brunel! I’m here! I’m here!”
He looked around him. Everything was strange and out of place. There was a chair, but it was fixed to the wall of the machine, directly below the window rather than facing it, so that it pointed up towards the angled ceiling, the one through which Thaddeus had fallen. That had sealed shut so solidly that it looked as if it would never open again. In front of the chair was a curved silver desk, covered in tiny levers, dials and switches. There were silver cabinets fixed to the walls. As he looked at them now, it seemed as if he was seeing them sideways. It was almost as if the entire machine was designed to tilt, so that what was now the wall would become the floor.
Thaddeus began to feel claustrophobic – as if he’d been buried alive. Every time he shouted, his voice fell like a lead weight, dead against the metal. He noticed what looked like a door in one of the walls, with a handle, but it wouldn’t budge, even though he pulled with all his might. He struggled up to the chair and into it, pulling lever after lever, but there was no response. It were as if the machine was completely dead. Perhaps turning off the flames below had cut off all power to its insides, too.
He scrambled back down to the floor, looking out of the window to see that Rémy and J had moved. They were no longer standing in front of the machine. Thaddeus’ heart turned over as he saw Rémy examining one of the strange armoured suits on the other side of the room. What was she doing? She wasn’t seriously considering getting into one of them, surely?
“Rémy!” he shouted, banging on the glass again. “Don’t do it! It’s not safe! You don’t know –”
He broke off as he watched J, who had suddenly become animated. The boy had grabbed Rémy’s arm and was trying to pull her away, pointing in the direction of one of the three tunnels that led out of the room. Had he heard someone coming? If he had…
“Run!” Thaddeus shouted through the glass, banging his hand flat against it. “Rémy! J! You mustn’t be caught. Get out – run!”
J was obviously telling Rémy the same thing, but she held back. She looked towards the machine again and then pulled her arm out of J’s grip, running back towards Thaddeus. She ran right up to the glass, banging, shouting for him. He couldn’t hear her, and she obviously still couldn’t see him.
“Just go,” he cried, even though he knew she couldn’t hear. “I’ll be all right. Look after yourself. Look after J. Just go!”
Rémy fell still and stared through the glass. For a moment, Thaddeus thought she could see him. She flattened her hands against the window, and he realized that if the glass hadn’t been between them, they would have been no more than two inches apart. He reached out, hesitantly, pressing one hand and then the other to the cold ghosts of hers.
She said something, her lips moving silently. And although he couldn’t hear her, he knew what she’d said, as surely as if she’d spoken straight into his ear.
“I’ll come back,” she said. “I’ll come back for you, Thaddeus Rec. I promise.”
He felt a strange sensation in his chest. There was a jolt, as if something had been plunged deeply into his heart and had lodged there. Thaddeus blinked.
“Go,” he whispered. “Please, Rémy – go.”
She stepped back almost as if she’d heard, staring at the glass for a moment longer. Then she turned and ran. J didn’t wait for her, careering ahead and disappearing down one of the tunnels with Rémy close behind. They vanished into the darkness.
Seconds later, a group of men appeared from the tunnel on the far right. There were four of them, tall and broad-shouldered. They were dressed in loose black trousers and shirts, their faces covered up to the eyes and their heads wrapped in black turbans. Across their chests were strapped wide leather belts, a hunter’s pouch on each. They moved in formation, two ahead and two behind. One of the men in front held up his hand and they all stopped, in unison. This leader gave brief signs with his hands and they separated. They were searching.
Thaddeus stepped away from the window, moving backwards until his shoulders touched the cabinet behind him. Three of the men had walked out of sight. But the leader seemed to know exactly where to go. He glanced up at something above the machine – the wooden platform, Thaddeus supposed. Then he walked straight towards the window.
For a moment, the man stared in blindly, as Rémy had done just a few moments before. Then he pulled out a pair of tinted glasses from his hunter’s pouch. He put them on and peered solemnly at the glass.
The leader shouted something briefly. In seconds, the three other men stood beside him, all wearing glasses and all looking in. And this time, he knew they could see him.
Thaddeus was caught.