Дэниел Смит - Below Zero

One at a time.

Tick. Tack. Tick. Tack.

‘What the hell is that?’ Zak whispered.

‘It looks like a crude imitation of the Spiders.’ Mum glanced at Dad.

‘Built using parts from the Magpie?’ he said. ‘And the plane?’

‘That’s what it looks like. There are composite components too,’ Mum said. ‘That’s incredible.’

‘You think they did that?’ Dad sounded unsure. ‘The Spiders? You think they took parts from the plane so they could build that… thing?’ He shook his head. ‘That’s impossible.’

Impossible. Can’t be. Doesn’t make sense. Another explanation. Impossible, impossible, impossible. That’s all Zak was hearing from Mum and Dad.

He couldn’t believe they still sounded like this was all so fascinating. Yeah, the robot thing was amazing and everything, but it was dangerous. It was covered in patches of grey yucky stuff that looked alive , and he was sure it wanted to do awful things to them. It wanted to control their minds, turn them into zombies and… what? That was the worst thing. They just didn’t know.

Outside, the drone thing settled back and turned its camera directly at Zak.

As it did so, he felt a deep warmth expand behind his right eye. It spread like ink in water, washing over him, pulsing and aching, exploding in a powerful jolt. A brightness erupted inside him, filling everything. His muscles tingled, his blood fizzed, and his thoughts were wiped away by a busy hail of white noise. It was as if his whole body was caught in an electrical storm. Zak was paralysed, and there was the strange sensation again, of something being inside his head, crawling over his thoughts.

Images erupted in his mind.

Bam! Zak was sitting in Mr Anderson’s office – not Doctor Anderson because consultants prefer Mister – listening to why he had been getting so many headaches and why he’d had that the seizure during French. There was something growing in his brain, so the doctor was going to put Zak to sleep and drill a small hole in his head and take a sample of what was in there and…

Bam! Zak was wearing a pale blue hospital gown – why is it always pale blue? – and he was watching himself from the corner of the room as the doctor touched the drill to the side of his head and pressed the trigger and…

Bam! He was back in the doctor’s office, Mum and Dad with serious faces as Mr Anderson explained the treatment that would follow and…

Bam! He was in Antarctica, staring at an old-fashioned explorer who was standing by a huge crack in the ice, beckoning to him with both hands and…

Bam! He was floating above a shimmering sea of insects crawling over one another, taking flight, rising in two never-ending spirals of fluorescent yellow and…

The images stopped. A flash of white, and the presence inside his head began to move away like a silk sheet slowly slipping away from a table to reveal the wood beneath.

Zak blinked and the drone-thing was still there in the doorway to Refuge. May was still beside him.

Whatever had just happened to Zak, no one had noticed. They had either been too busy watching the thing outside, or it had happened too quickly for them to see, but his legs felt weak and when he put a hand on May to steady himself, she turned to look at him.

‘I’m…’ Wasn’t it time to tell them? About the polar bear? About the explorer? About the feeling that something was trying to get into his head? It was important. He was sure it had something to do with what was happening here. But he didn’t know where to start. How could he even begin to tell them?

‘It’s moving,’ Mum said. She tightened her lips and her zigzag scar went white again.

Zak looked back at the window to see the mechanical monstrosity lift itself a little higher off the ground and shift backwards.

‘Is it letting us past?’ Mum asked. ‘Is that what it’s doing?’

Before any of them could answer, a group of small spiders came into view, scuttling into the corridor like an army. At least twenty of them, they swept across the pale blue floor. They were similar in size and shape to the scuttling thing that had attacked them in the Drone Bay, and the things they’d seen attached to the people in Storage, but these were different. They had evolved.

As they advanced into Refuge, the lock on the office door disengaged with a quiet click, and the door slid open.

‘Why don’t you come in, Dad?’

The Broker glanced up from the smartphone and watched his eldest son drag himself out of the pool, dripping on the expensive Italian tiles. Even this early, when the sun had barely risen, his children loved to be in the water.

‘Come on, don’t be so boring.’

Putting the smartphone on the glass-topped table, he shook his head. ‘You know me, David. I prefer to stay dry. Anyway, I’ve just had my breakfast.’ He indicated the lavish spread of fresh fruit and pastries on the poolside table in front of him – Chef always put out far too much and The Broker sometimes wondered if she was trying to make him fat. Or fatter . ‘And you know what they say about swimming too soon after you’ve eaten.’

‘That’s a myth.’ David smiled and flicked water across his father’s face. ‘Wimp.’

‘Careful.’ The Broker gave his son a fake stern look. ‘This is the shirt your mother gave me for our anniversary.’

‘And you’d better not ruin it.’ Sitting beside him, his wife, Natalia, spoke without taking her eyes off her Town and Country magazine. ‘That cost a fortune.’

David ignored her and flicked water at his dad again, spraying a line of dark spots across the deep red silk shirt.

‘Stop it. She’ll kill me if it gets ruined.’ The Broker cast a sly glance at his wife, pretending to be worried, but when David came closer, he cracked a smile that showed perfect white teeth. ‘Cheeky monkey.’ He leapt from his seat at the table and gave chase as his son made a quick getaway. ‘I’ll get you for that.’

The boy darted across the tiles and on to the well-tended grass. He dodged this way and that, but the Broker was quick despite his size. When the boy feinted left for the third time, The Broker caught his wrist in one powerful hand and pulled the boy towards him.

‘Now for your punishment!’ He bent at the knees and took his son’s leg in his other hand, hoisting him over his head. He strode towards the pool, went right to the edge, and threw the boy as far as he could.

The boy hit the middle of the swimming pool with a huge splash that sent waves filtering out in all directions.

‘I am invincible!’ The Broker raised his arms above his head and fist-pumped the air. ‘No one can—’

‘That’s what you think.’ His daughter had crept up behind him, ready to shove her father into the pool. But The Broker’s instincts were keen. Before she could put her hands on him, he twisted, snatched her arms towards him, and threw her in beside her brother.

‘It’ll take more than that to sneak up on me , young lady.’

‘How do you do that?’ she laughed. ‘How did you know?’

‘I’m always watching, Jennifer.’ He touched two fingers to his eyes, then pointed at her. ‘I see everything, remember.’

‘Next time.’ She splashed water at him. ‘I’ll get you, next time.’

The Broker stepped back to avoid being drenched, and stood admiring his children as they dived beneath the surface. He had so much to be grateful for. His wealth, his health, his family.