Chapter Five

1.

DESPITE THEIR INTUITION NEITHER Nathaniel nor Erasmus found what they expected. Their initial discovery was interesting, but not as miraculous as they anticipated.

“Not the first time you’ve found edifices with writing on, Professor,” Bedford said, tracing one of the symbols with a fingertip, referring to the monoliths within Phobos. “Any luck on deciphering them?”

“I understand them perfectly.”

“You do?” Bedford sounded suitably surprised.

“No, of course not.”

Bedford’s expression spoke of shock, irritation, embarrassment. Mostly irritation, though.

“Some of these signs…” Nathaniel continued before an argument could begin. “Some are similar to what we’ve seen before. Some completely different.”

The placement of the stone slabs, which too closely resembled Egyptian cartouches not to refer to them as such, were set in a circular formation in the interior of another cave. Despite the vastness of the space they had left behind, Nathaniel had the disquieting feeling that the entire centre of Jupiter conformed to some pattern he could not define. Kaplan had been right to judge the outer shell to align in such a way as to suggest a geometric shape. Nathaniel could not tell for certain whether it strictly adhered to the honeycomb configuration he had surmised, but he had been checking turns and counting steps enough to ascertain it had to be similar. This suggested a grander design that he found quite fascinating. The cartouches reminded him of the circular arrangement of standing stones he had discovered on Phobos. He had an overwhelming and fulfilling sense of something combining to create a whole, and was looking forward to the big reveal. In the meantime, he’d enjoy the secrets Jupiter had to divulge.

Giant ants on Luna. The dung beetles of Phobos. What would he find here? Walking, talking crabs perhaps. Whatever it was would be greater than he had ever envisioned. More than he’d hoped for.

First he had to decipher the cartouches and the limits of man’s minds were frustrating to him even if he were surrounded by some of the best. Orlondo and Kaplan were engrossed in collecting samples. Wollf was also taking specimens, although her interest was more along the lines of unseen life. Despite the findings on other worlds, she adhered to the scientific belief that most life on other worlds would evolve on the microscopic level. For now, Nathaniel had left them all to indulge their curiosity. No knowing whether they’d find something useful. Look where edwinite had brought them.

Erasmus was quite done in by the walk down here, and possibly by what he’d confessed. No doubt his telepathic ability had been helping to guide them as well and that all took its toll. Erasmus now rested along with Bedford’s other man and Orlondo. Despite his excitement, the portly man needed some respite that even his excitability could not provide.

Erasmus had asked if Nathaniel needed him, but he’d refused, softening the rejection he saw in Erasmus’s gaze with a smile and by telling him to conserve his strength. He’d also told Tally to take a break, saying he knew not when he’d need him and he’d want him awake when he did. Only then had the Irishman given in.

Even Nathaniel wondered where he’d found reserves of energy; he had eaten his share of the rations only to placate Bedford who had thrown up the argument of, “What would Annabelle say if you are not taking care of yourself?” Nathaniel had translated that to mean Bedford feared his wife would kill him if he didn’t make Nathaniel see sense. A meal was possible at least. He could tilt the mask up enough to, while holding his breath, open his mouth, pop food, or a drinking straw between his lips, and then drag the mask back in place before chewing.

He finished the last of his meal, if he could call it such, and moved on to the next plaque.

“No telling how long these have been here, but I can’t make them out.” He spoke softly, talking to himself.

Through the mask, his words must have been indistinguishable for Bedford said, “Excuse me?”

“Just thinking aloud.” Even using the few reference points he could understand, he immediately worked out this would take him weeks of study and he didn’t have time. He wasn’t about to tell Bedford that. He wasn’t going to leave until someone dragged him topside. “I need to look around.”

“Really, Professor, I appreciate—”

“With all respect, you don’t.” He didn’t have time to hear Bedford out. He stared at him. “Annabelle would.”

“And I’m quite sure she would have been on your side or already slipped away from me long before now.” Bedford’s eyes shone with love, swiftly chased away by an expression Nathaniel could not define. “But you need rest as much as any man.”

“I have no time. I require…” A clue. A means to decipher this code. “I need to look around. Don’t worry. I’ll take Tally with me.” Just as well he’d told the man to get a few minutes of sleep.

“My other two men have caught up. I can spare a crewman.”

“I’d rather have Tally.”

He could see Bedford didn’t like the idea, but Nathaniel was in charge of the research mission. It would not do for them to argue in front of the crew and even Bedford understood there was no point to any of them being out here without accepting the risks involved. At least that was how Nathaniel translated his acquiesce.

Nathaniel packed up his notebook, slipping it into a pocket, and went to kick an Irishman awake.

2.

ARNAUD TRIED NAPPING IN the medical room, believing he would find it more quiet and comfortable than his bunk, but after jolting awake after what apparently was a longer sleep than he’d believed, he told Doctor Beverly he was much refreshed and had duties to perform. Feeling worse than when he’d arrived, he went straight to his quarters. There, although most of the bunks were empty, two other men slumbered on an off-duty shift. A third, name of Marwick, who never appeared to sleep, lay on his bunk with his arms folded behind his head; he glanced over but then returned his stare to the ceiling, so Arnaud flung himself on the bed, laid back and closed his eyes. He had work to do but…

Actually, no, he didn’t. He had time in which there were no doubt small jobs and research he could tinker with, but until Nathaniel returned, there was nothing urgent. Waiting was an empty exercise so he might as well close his eyes, which even now were burning, and try to rest the irritating strain in his neck while he had the opportunity.

He tried, but one of the men started snoring. Gone was the luxury of having privacy. Gone too was the delight of sharing space with Nathaniel…although the way he was acting now, Arnaud wasn’t at all sure “delight” would be quite the word to use. Sharing a room, though…that would give them more chances to reconnect. Nathaniel wouldn’t have to fear discovery in quite the way he now seemed to; they could share intimacy once again, and that, perhaps, would go a long way to solving whatever was wrong with their relationship.

Was he truly losing Nathaniel so shortly after having found love?

It’s better to have loved than lost. That phrase was invented to try to comfort the sick at heart, although Arnaud knew those thoughts were inspired by his maudlin emotions. The words rang true to a point. He’d rather have known love for a short time than never share such a close connection, but to have Nathaniel turn so cold with small reason, that he couldn’t come to terms with. The man he had known would have forgiven him, so Nathaniel had to have other concerns. Small comfort; if Nathaniel had worries, Arnaud wished the man would share them.

The more Arnaud tried to stop thinking, the more thoughts spun in his mind and the less likely he was to snooze.

He opened his eyes to the sound of movement. Marwick was up, looking in his locker, back to Arnaud. At least Marwick never snored but then he never slept. He was a member of the science team, drafted from the disbanded Otterbein Base on Luna, but only worked in engineering, if whatever he did could be called work. He never had dirty hands, never looked tired. If questioned about his shift, he tended to be evasive. Arnaud had stopped asking and made a joke of his apparent inability or lack of need to sleep.

Marwick now closed his locker, and Arnaud closed his eyes to slits. When Marwick turned around, he gave the other occupants of the room what Arnaud could only describe as a shifty once over before walking to the door.

Quite unable to rest, Arnaud sat up the moment the door closed, hesitated another second only, and then stood. He went to the door, peered out long enough to see Marwick had already walked the length of the corridor. The moment he turned right, Arnaud followed.

By the time Arnaud popped his head around the corner, Marwick had quickened his pace. Arnaud ignored the temptation to give chase, not wanting Marwick to notice him or to draw the attention of other personnel. The longer the walk continued, the greater number of staff moved about them proving to be a hindrance, yet also acting as camouflage for Arnaud’s pursuit.

At one point Arnaud lost sight of his quest completely, but by this time had realised the man was heading to the engine room; he was able to go that way directly. So intent on catching up was Arnaud, he almost ran into Marwick as he rounded a corner. Fortunately, the man had his back to him, had stopped walking to avoid an approaching group, and Arnaud was able to blend in with them and head a short way down the corridor to the right before pretending to have forgotten something and heading back. No-one was paying him any attention and good thing, for he didn’t want to rely on his acting ability to pave the way for a new career as a spy. Although, when he gave thought to his adventures to date, he had to accept that the time to worry about taking part in clandestine activities had long since gone by.

Arnaud came close to engineering and slowed his pace. Really, what was he doing? Marwick’s destination was obvious and Arnaud’s movements on the ship restricted. No way would be he allowed in, and even if he could get past security he dreaded to think what would happen should news of his doing so get back to anyone in authority. Why bother following the crewman?

Because he wanted a distraction from feeling unwell, and from being apart from Nathaniel when the most romantic day of the year would be upon him in a few hours. From knowing that even if Nathaniel were here on the ship, romance would likely be the last thing on the professor’s mind, and because Arnaud had the tingling sense that the particularly peculiar hours Marwick kept had to be for a specific reason. He just couldn’t imagine what. Was it something only a few on the ship knew? Was Nathaniel keeping something from him? Something other than his love?

He stopped walking in a stretch of quiet, unattended corridor—one that served as a connection between one part of the ship and another. He’d already ventured too close to engineering. Getting caught here would not do him well.

Annoyed with his own stupidity, Arnaud made a sharp turn about…and almost walked into Jack Fenn.

3.

“A MAN NEEDS HIS SLEEP,” Tally grumbled.

“You could have remained on the ship,” Nathaniel told him.

That thought…really hadn’t entered his head. Tally blinked and stood still for a moment only, before hurrying after Nathaniel. If anyone else had awoken him from such a pleasant nap he’d have been truly upset. Stay on the ship? Naw. He couldn’t have had done that.

The professor used his long legs to easily traverse an outcropping of rock. Tally hastily scrambled after him. Something about Nathaniel brought out the protective streak in him, making him go above and beyond and all that. Damned if he could explain it. No doubt some mind doctor would hark back to his childhood experiences and blame his actions on the loss of a brother and having to learn to survive and to help his other siblings do likewise, but since when did doing the right thing need such close analysing? What he knew of Nathaniel Stone told Tally he followed a good man. Well, mostly good. Every man had a demon or two. For some it was tobacco. Others, drink. He couldn’t get his head around the professor’s most secret desires, but never mind that. Until he worked it out in his head and heart both, he’d follow his instincts. Maybe one day Nate would move on to better ways. Maybe Tally could even steer him on the right path. All those concerns were for another time, and even if that was not to be, Tally wasn’t leaving Nathaniel’s side. No-one was perfect. Everything told him Nathaniel needed keeping safe. The man could be quite reckless.

“I only got me thirty winks,” he grumbled in earshot of Nathaniel as he reached his side.

“You can sleep when you’re dead, Tally,” Nathaniel said with a smile. The mask on his face was a little cloudy but Tally could make out such a broad grin right enough.

“Aye, but I don’t plan on doing that any time soon. Ow! Feckin’ hell.” Tally shook out his hand. “What makes fer some of these here rocks being so hot?”

“Probably Jupiter’s core.”

“That explains all.” It very much didn’t, but Tally was no learned man and he was sure whatever scientific explanation Nathaniel might launch into would make things as clear as the breath on their masks. “What are we looking fer, and why am I searching fer it wid’ ya?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but you’re with me because no sensible man goes wandering off alone, and I need to prove to Bedford I can be sensible.”

Tally thought about that for a moment or two and then laughed. “Then that might make two of us. I’m the eejit that’s here wid’ ya. So what’re those things ya found back there? I heard ya say Car…tooth?”

“Cartouche. I don’t suppose you know anything about Egypt.”

“Ah…well, no. Bit far from Dublin. So these…these car…” He struggled with the word and then got it out. “…touche things are Egyptian?”

“No. That is…I could surmise they are based on Egyptian cartouches, but it’s more likely that those are derived from these on Jupiter.”

Tally screwed his face up while thinking this over. “What are this touche things fer, anyways?”

“Kings would write their names in what we call hieroglyphs—picture symbol writing—and then encircle them with a design we know as a cartouche, with an oval ring of rope tied at one end, although often it just appears as a ring, or in other ways. Basically the point is to encircle.”

“Huh? To what feckin’ purpose?”

“Symbolism. The king’s rule of the universe as a whole, much like the way the sun shines on everything. A ring can mean eternity or protection.”

“So the king protecting his subjects?”

“That…or, I’m inclined to believe, it was more like Heaven protecting the king. His god protecting him, and elevating his position on Earth. Sometimes it’s possible to find the name of a particular god within the cartouche.”

“Guess these kings thought a lot of ’emselves.”

“Don’t all such men?”

Tally grimaced. “Just so. Tis sadly true.”

They walked on a way in silence over a particularly rocky incline.

“Egyptian cartouches. How the feckin’ hell could that be? To be sure I get what yer saying an’ all, but…” Tally shrugged, trying to express a concept that felt too big for his mind. He even glanced back as if he could see the stone tablets. How old were they? How long had they been here? He asked the next question that popped into his mind. “Why? What are those things doing here?”

Nathaniel stopped moving, took a moment as if to stretch a kink out of his back. He appeared to be thinking and Tally gave him time to work through his thoughts. “Solar symbolism is implicated in many cartouches, so that it seems quite possible that we would find such symbols out here, but on Jupiter?”

“Drobates?” Tally suggested thinking back to the first time he’d seen one. What he’d hated most was the bluish-grey skin so thin as to be opaque. He suppressed a shudder at the thought of all those arteries and veins on show beneath. “Ya told me that they had an influence on Earth religions—the names of those Hearts and the Luna deities, fer instance. I mean, blimey. If an’ yer right an’ all, then a lot of our history could have come from elsewhere.” Influence was one thing, but how much they had yet to discover of how other life forms could have manipulated Earth’s history gave a shiver to his spine.

“I can think of no other explanation, but the little I can make out…” Nathaniel shook his head again. “I cannot see Drobates of the type we’ve already encountered bothering, and if there are others with a higher intelligence it stands to reason they are above such things. The plaques are quite crude compared to anything else we’ve discovered, although…” He glanced around. “If they were restricted to using what was here, that’s understandable. It doesn’t explain why we’ve seen no other signs of their presence or how they died off, or left. I do not believe these tablets represent the same imagery as they would on Earth. Not entirely, anyway.”

“What likenesses did yer see?”

Nathaniel glanced down at him. “Sometimes you are more astute than the men in charge.”

“Aye well, Bedford would no doubt have asked if he wasn’t trying to tiptoe ’round ya so careful like.” Tally shrugged. “I’ve a feeling the absence of his misses has thrown yer friendship for a loop.”

“Definitely too astute,” Nathaniel said, apparently without malice.

“Nothing getting together and a few pints a Guinness down yer necks wouldn’t fix.” He was hoping to provoke Nathaniel to laughter but the professor was once again lost in his thoughts.

“There are solar connotations on those slabs. That and uraei.”

“Ur…what?”

“Sacred serpent. Only it’s not that. It’s as if I have the answer on the tip of my tongue. Sod it all, Tally, but it’s frustrating.”

The lapse in the professor’s speech into one to Tally’s own phrases made the Irishman grin as he followed along.

They fell into silence as the terrain grew more uneven. Tally broke into a sweat. Although he’d never have been able to move at this pace or as well in the atmosphere suit, Tally found he wished for its protection when, pausing to wipe a hand over his face, he succeeded in rubbing dust and grit into his skin. His hands were caked where he’d been grabbing hold of rocks to help pull himself up. For all he knew he had just rubbed a colony of alien life-forms into his complexion.

He thought back to where he’d first met Nate at The Bleeding Horse public house. While he did so, he lifted the face mask enough to wipe the back of his hand over his mouth. Bloody hell but they grew warm on the face, fogged up with condensation from every breath. He could do with a pub that served Guinness about now. Perish the thought, but water would have to suffice and as their surrounds had grown warmer he’d already drunk half of the small supply he’d brought along. There was more back with the men.

“Ain’t we best be starting back?” As much as he admired Nathaniel Stone, and he wasn’t unfit, he couldn’t see anything but bluff desolation down here. What could the professor hope to discover?

“I just want to take a look over there. Take a seat, Tally. I won’t be gone long.”

Tally looked to where Nate indicated and nodded his consent. He’d be able to watch from here, and with those long legs this was one occasion where the professor would move faster without him.

4.

NATHANIEL LOOKED BACK TO where the other man was sitting, guzzling now and then at his water supply and no wonder; the terrain grew increasingly hot. Nathaniel took off his jacket, fished out a kerchief and wiped his brow. Then he took a drink.

What to do next? Something had pulled him in this direction, but he knew not what and of what he’d hoped to find there was no sign. Maybe Tally was right and they should head back. Bedford might have already sent men after them; they’d been gone for some time.

Nathaniel Stone hated the idea of being thwarted.

Determination or plain stubbornness kept him standing there another minute. Beneath the mask he chewed on his lower lip, mind racing with indecision.

While he waited for inspiration, he began to feel a vibration under his feet.

What it was to be right. Even though he’d also been wrong.

So many had disputed the concept of Jupiter having any ground so he’d yielded the point. For the sake of the mission he’d said, putting on a gracious front. He’d declared a hope that he was wrong, and smiled with fake cheer when his deductions had been proven off target, though not completely incorrect. The discovery of an inner world much like those on some of the other planets made his job easier. The fact that it moved less so. He’d thought they were past that but as the ground shifted a little under his feet he had to accept the possibility of some instability in the rock and the chance of a volcanic core.

This inner layer at least allowed investigation, but it apparently suffered from tremors, although this was the first he’d been aware of such. The uneven surface made Nathaniel’s work all the more difficult and time-consuming. Ahead was yet another incline. He heard the ghost of Orlondo’s voice; the Spaniard saying how Nathaniel was best suited to this job. “You can put those long legs to good use, si?”

Some influence seemed to think so. Call it intuition or instinct or, for all he knew, telepathy, something made him want to carry on in that direction. To do so, he’d have to leave Tally behind. He’d have to spend time making his way up the other side. Which meant he’d have to do the same in reverse when rejoining the group, and the longer he was gone the more Bedford would stew. Some of that was just the man being a commanding officer, but Nathaniel suffered the nagging sense that something else was going on here. Of course, he hadn’t helped their relationship, but Bedford’s feelings were not his to worry about. The man wasn’t the only one wishing Annabelle was part of this journey. Her persistence at dashing off seemed to invite peril, but often brought results. Maybe she would have found what he was looking for…whatever that something turned out to be.

Nathaniel looked back the way he had come, longing to rejoin the others, wishing he could resist the temptation to venture further afield. Wishing his existence could be that simple.

He’d started out with good reasons, one of which was a desire to be alone for a time. He would have been glad of some solitude, but knowing Bedford would insist he take someone along, he’d chosen Tally. Standing here now, dithering whether to return to him or leave the man cursing to sprint in his wake, Nathaniel experienced another rare moment of his emotions fluctuating out of control. He was two beings at once—cool calm intellect at war with all the frailties of being human. It was almost as if he had to choose which to be. Right now he knew which would serve him well and it wasn’t the imperfect side of humanity.

Nathaniel began to pick his way down the uneven rock face. He slipped once, bashing his ankle quite badly. Fearing the worse, he tested the next step, but aside from a little soreness, which he was able to work out by rotating the joint, he’d sustained little damage.

The same could not be said for his apparel for, a little further down, the sound of ripping was followed by a curse he would not have uttered in polite society. If he remained here for more than their intended duration he’d be returning to Sovereign looking like the proverbial castaway.

A memory popped into his head of Kaplan at Otterbein Base appearing before him covered in black, a result of excavating, yet apparently overjoyed despite his dishevelled state. Nathaniel attempted to smile at his appearance so as not to make Kaplan the better man.

Having finally reached the bottom of the incline, Nathaniel began his ascent. Although the task was more arduous, the pathway was clear and easier. Indeed, if not having to breathe through the recirculation unit, Nathaniel would not have struggled. Heaving himself over the last ridge, he took a moment to run his tongue around the inside of his mouth, then to swallow the metallic taste of saliva. He craved a drink but not only should he conserve his water supply, the reprieve provided by the liquid would not last long enough to warrant taking one.

He glanced back and could see Tally standing. He was sure the Irishman shook his head. Was the gesture one of admonishment, or was Tally telling him not to continue?

Maybe this was a fool’s errand—setting off on nothing more than a hunch. He couldn’t be sure whether he just followed hope or the voice of Kaskuu.

Nathaniel looked up with some surprise to see that the path ahead had levelled out and for several hundred feet at least the way would be easier, but that last incline had tired him.

Sitting between two pointed ridges in the rocky surface, Nathaniel took the time to open his flask. Then he moved the mouthpiece out of the way far enough to enable him to drink. He used a mere dab of liquid on a kerchief to wipe his brow and face, and then put his breathing piece back into place. He’d managed to hold his breath that long and waited for a few more seconds before breathing again to allow the edwinite in the filter to do its job and clear any toxic fumes that had found their way inside. Wouldn’t do to risk even a gasp of Jupiter’s inner atmosphere. The human body was so very frail as he’d learned only too well.

The might of Jupiter came crashing down on him. How small was man? How tiny was he in this framework of bone, muscle, and skin? Man’s greatest power seemed to be his intellect and yet it was trapped within. Such thoughts led him to think of Arnaud, and all the man had been through.

He’d left Arnaud back on the ship, without explanation for he’d not had one to give. He could have argued with the captain, probably sacrificed one or two other members of his team and had them removed from this mission instead. The truth was he’d chosen Kaplan over Arnaud and the reason…was a good one. Again instinct told him so. Back at Otterbein Base, he’d been quite put out not having Arnaud to work with, although Kaplan was as excellent a substitute as he could hope for in his place. That had nothing to do with why he’d brought Kaplan along instead. He just wasn’t sure why, but he would. As strange as it seemed, he was sure. His conviction of that was as strong as the desire to continue. In time, his actions would be clear to all. What would they think of him then?

What would he think of himself?

Now was not the time for such ruminations and his thoughts to go flipping about. He allowed a moment of silent respect, nonetheless, during which he looked sideways and realised Tally was following his path. The man would be hard pushed to catch up if Nathaniel forged ahead. Nathaniel couldn’t wait. His time here was limited and as well as the mission… How could he ignore the king of planets?

He looked around once more, taking in the sights for the first time, truly noting differences in the structure of the rock. Why, the very piece he sat on was unlike anything he’d seen. Grey-brown, leathery to the touch, with striations that made him think of scales. Perhaps he should chip a piece off to take back to the ship. Take something back personally to Arnaud. Something to show to Erasmus.

Nathaniel stood and got out his tools, selecting a small hammer such as Orlondo would use. He closed up his pack before using the instrument to strike a blow. The rock did not give way, but the ground vibrated again.

Surprised and puzzled, Nathaniel stood. Had he done that? Surely such a little strike… He shook his head, amused with his own thoughts. Of course he’d not caused any damage with such a weak blow. As if to prove it, he struck again, waited, and when nothing happened, smiled, and set about chipping a piece of the formation free.

As a large scale-shaped piece came away, the ground heaved.

By all the…

Nathaniel had not thought that any of the floating land masses could exist down here. They seemed restricted to the space between the outer core and the upper atmosphere.

This time the shuddering was so great, the force propelled him from his feet. For a time, Nathaniel lay there dazed, aware of a vibration, of the ground pitching beneath him. When his focus cleared enough, the first thing he did was to check that his breathing mask remained in place.

He then scrambled to his knees. The abrupt uncontrolled movement had ceased, but Nathaniel could see that the surface upon which he knelt was now elevated. He waited to see if it was safe to stand, afraid he might be immediately launched off his feet. If he broke the breathing tube… He didn’t want to consider that.

A trickling sensation had him pressing fingers against his brow. His hand came away tacky with blood. So he had reopened the cut. He pressed his kerchief over the graze to stem the flow.

Way to go. The great explorer brains himself. Tally would have a laugh. Or maybe not. The man did seem to concern himself with Nate’s safety.

He felt glad of that concern, when the ground under his feet gave him another shove. Nathaniel had risen to one knee, was about to push up; the undulation of the rock threw him to one side. This time he landed on his hands, grazing the skin. Softly cursing the interruption of his exploration, he considered that it might be best to return to the others or at least backtrack far enough to wait while this quake petered out and whatever had disturbed Jupiter—he refused to think it was his mere chipping out of one piece of rock—settled.

No sooner had he made up his mind that he had no option when the rock beneath him began to rise.

Wary of being trapped at the pinnacle, Nathaniel made a desperate leap, one hand clutching the respirator mask, the other outstretched to aid a safe landing, which he turned into a roll.

The idea worked to a degree. He clinched his teeth against the jarring numbness that ran up his leg from landing full weight on an ankle, and grunted when a twist pushed him onto his right shoulder. Still, the move saved him from broken bones as far as he could tell, and by some miracle he did not bash his head. The smaller pains he ignored. He rotated to see what changes had occurred to the landscape and by what means his retreat might be cut off; the sight widened his eyes.

The land was still moving upwards, but as small rocks fell away, the solid mass began to take shape. The first thought to flash through Nathaniel’s mind was reptile, followed by a vaguer thought of dinosaur. He recalled the symbols on the cartouche and then thought snake. Any and all seemed to fit. Something serpent-like raised its head, revealing jaws of widely spaced serrated teeth…incisors of a length to match Nathaniel’s height.

That great v-shaped skull swung over him, jaws snapping, tongue flickering, nostrils flaring, and eyes glinting. His gaze went up and up and up until he stared at the ridges that ran from the back of its head. He followed their path, increasing and then decreasing in size along the length of its spine to the tip of its tail. One protuberance on the crest was missing a scale.

So he had awoken this…beast. If it stooped its head for a snack he was a small morsel of a feast, but there would be nothing he could do about its eating him. This great…thing was a giant crocodile with wings.

As the great creature gave a shake, it took a step, unfurled great leathery flaps.

A dragon.

He was staring at the closest thing man had ever seen to a real live dragon. This was an animal of fairy tales and folklore; a myth. The fact of its presence threw everything mankind had known about every fable into stark relief.

Nathaniel felt a fierce longing for Annabelle. What she wouldn’t give for a sight of this, a discovery of the age, even if it was one of many. What was this beast? A creation of a Watcher? Something created for a specific purpose? If so what was the use of such a creature in a place like this? How did it breathe?

To think he’d thought he’d seen such things before, but the opeme he’d encountered in the Venusian jungle were not like this.

The animal gave another shake, great head swinging in a wavering arc. It appeared…dazed. Perhaps if he remained motionless it wouldn’t notice him. He gave a passing thought to Tally and hoped the creature wouldn’t spot the Irishman.

Nathaniel lay propped on one elbow, taking shallow breaths and hoping the dragon would fly away. In the quiet moment he took time to catalogue details. The thick spines led down to the very tip of an arrowhead tail. It stood on all fours, but the front legs were somewhat shorter and although only slightly thinner were somehow more refined. He could not call the appendages hands, but he could surmise they had more dexterity than those on the hind quarters. Either way, all four…paws ended in thick talons. Two of the fanged teeth put him in mind of a snake and his naturally inquisitive mind couldn’t help wondering whether the creature had venom capabilities.

None of those back at camp were going to believe this. Not even with Tally’s added testimony.

Then again, maybe he’d never get a chance to tell them. As Nathaniel turned his head so too did the dragon.

His clothes were dusty, his hair was red. The colours of his outfit, skin and hair, pretty much blended in with the terrain, and the movement he’d made was exceedingly small. Surely the reptile hadn’t seen him move?

It took a step.

Nathaniel held his breath.

The creature’s gaze swung from right to left and back again as though it were scanning the area. Lungs beginning to strain, still Nathaniel didn’t dare breathe. He lay there hoping Tally had the sense to hide.

He didn’t have to worry about Tally; he had every reason to worry about himself.

The damn thing’s staring at me.

He was sure of it. Still, if he remained motionless, maybe…

The dragon took another step, making the ground shake where Nathaniel lay. He held still a moment longer, but the creature was already raising a leg and about to move closer. Whether it had spotted him, if he didn’t move soon he was going to be squashed as flat as the sliced bacon Tally loved so much.

Nathaniel scurried back on his elbows out of the way, aware the creature cocked its head and set its gaze very much on him. He turned as soon as he was clear and as he moved he saw that great jaw come unhinged. The creature opened its mouth, a long forked tongue flickering behind white daggers. Of the rest Nathaniel saw no more, only felt and heard the beast’s warm breath and thundering roar as its rage washed over him. He rolled over, scrambling up as he did.

He had long legs and was no stranger to running. If there was a small tunnel into which to duck maybe he could escape, but he was at once aware of the futility of that thought as the world around him shook. Somehow, he stayed on his feet, but the beast bore down on him. Still he might…

As the ground grew still and Nathaniel heard a great whup whup, he risked a look knowing what he would see even as he glanced back. The creature rose, streaked towards him, great maul opening.

Nathaniel tried at the last to throw himself out of the way. The world turned on him, spun him around, and as he tumbled he thought for one brief second he had succeeded. Then the light grew dim and Nathaniel gazed out at a diminishing world from behind a great cage of teeth.

5.

“DOCTOR FONTAINE…SIR?”

Jack Fenn gave him a slow nod. At least he wasn’t screaming for security, so that was promising. The engineer tilted his head to one side.

“You lost yourself?”

Arnaud ignored the urge to tell him, non, he was right here. Fenn’s tone revealed he in no way believed Arnaud had taken a wrong turn…not by accident, anyway. Arnaud plastered a friendly smile on his face. At least that was his intent. He couldn’t tell what impression the grin might actually project.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Fenn. Walking off a headache.”

“Never used walking as a remedy myself.” Fenn was now staring, his gaze far too shrewd. “Give me one reason why we should exchange words before I call security.”

“Why would you do that? I’m just taking a walk on the ship.”

“Parts of which are off-limits to certain crew members.”

“I’m not in a restricted zone.”

“Extremely close to one.”

Arnaud shrugged. “I would say non. The length of a piece of string is…”

Jack Fenn started shaking his head. “No wandering off the subject, please.” He tilted his head to the other side now, looking down the corridor in the direction Arnaud had been heading. “Why would you be following Marwick?”

“I…” Arnaud searched his mind, found no satisfactory way to prevaricate. “You make a mistake. I was lost in thought. I was caught in…” In what? The other man’s wake? He considered explaining he and Marwick slept in the same quarters but couldn’t decide whether that would implicate him more or less, and while he calculated, seconds were ticking by in which Fenn grew more suspicious.

“Is it so surprising I would be lost in thought and find myself to have wandered from the path when our Professor Stone leaves me out of our first major mission since we left Earth?” Arnaud took a step to the left planning to march off in a huff, but Fenn stepped in front cutting him off.

“I thought you had stayed behind because of your health.”

“Aside from a few ailments I am doing passing well. More than passing. Doctor Beverly has been taking very good care of me.” Owing to his numerous scheduled and spontaneous check-ups, Arnaud was less surprised that Fenn would know some of the particulars of his health than that Fenn would question him. “I have not gone down to Jupiter because Nathaniel took Kaplan in my place.” He had to say something and he was disgruntled enough about this to put it to use.

Fenn’s mouth pulled to one side in a flash of a sneer and his expression changed. “Promised I could go too, and then let me down at the last minute. Another time, he says.” Fenn clearly doubted the possibility.

“Why would he take you?” Seeing Fenn was none too happy with the way Arnaud asked, he added, “I mean, why an engineer?”

“I don’t know. Said there might be call for one.”

Arnaud laughed softly. Inspiration struck. “So he’s abandoned us both. Watch your back, Fenn, or next he’ll ban you from the engine room too.” He saw what he hoped for—a flash of surprise light up Fenn’s face.

“Stone banned you?”

“Doesn’t trust how I’ll behave if further exposed to the edwinite. No-one else agrees. I was fine before. There’s a big difference from being close to it and having it injected into your system.” He didn’t know how much of this Fenn knew but his revelation spread shock over Fenn’s face, caused the man to take a step back.

“I dare say.” The engineer appeared to be working his way through a quandary and Arnaud let him.

Fenn took a step around Arnaud to stare down the corridor, before turning back. He looked Arnaud up and then down, then gazed first one way then the other. He took a step closer, lowered his voice. “Had you continued following, you would have noticed that our friend does not enter engineering by the normal route.”

What? Why would Fenn tell him this?

As if Jack Fenn read his mind, his expression appeared first examining and then finally decided. “I know what it is to be accused, right or…wrong… Sometimes the things we do are difficult to avoid. We act on good reasons at the time even if we regret them. Sometimes people don’t have a choice.”

Was Fenn trying to make friends with him? Arnaud could not be certain, and he didn’t know whether to trust the other man, but he supposed he could see how they shared a kind of camaraderie on that score. He gave Fenn a noncommittal nod.

“I don’t know everything of what’s happened to you, much less than I would like, and much more than I should, most like. One thing I am sure of though.” Fenn looked into Arnaud’s eyes. “I do the best I can by any ship I’m on. There’s something going on in engineering I don’t know the details of, and I don’t like those in charge messing about in places men like me are responsible for.”

Arnaud could see where Fenn might be going with this. “Their error, your problem.”

“That’s about the size of it. So I’ve been wanting to know what those like Marwick are getting up to in areas of the ship that shouldn’t be their concern. See, I could understand the Prof…I mean Professor Stone…and the like improving the workings of the engine room, but these… Marwick and men like him they aren’t qualified to be down there at all. Not that I can tell. They don’t seem to do anything.”

Which was much as Arnaud had figured out, but not qualified? He’d assumed they were acting as research assistants to those who were. He said so now.

“No. That ain’t it. Not it at all. I’ve not known what to do about it myself. Tried to talk to Boswell but he’s happy to just keep the ship up to speed. Happy to not trouble his mind with what the posh lot are doing, and has no wish to get involved. I don’t blame him. Used to be that way myself. But then today I seen you, and you’re following one of those something in my gut tells me not to trust at all.” Fenn took another step, which placed him uncomfortably close. “So, sir? What should we do?”

Was this a test? Fontaine dithered and apparently did so just long enough to make Fenn smile.

“That’s what I thought. Let me show you something I discovered a few nights ago.”

Fenn turned and walked off. Arnaud almost turned around to scurry in the other direction. He would have done if his head hadn’t started to pound again. His instincts told him to follow Jack Fenn, and he knew the steady thump thump thump in his skull wasn’t going to ease until he satisfied his curiosity.

6.

TALLY FELL FOR THE umpteenth time, on this occasion staying down on his knees for a few moments before forcing himself up. His breath laboured as he staggered ahead, the air in the mask growing uncomfortably warm.

The feckin’ thing irritated him so much, he wanted to grab it and throw it away, but that would be casting his life aside, and he knew what Nathaniel Stone would say about that. Back in Dublin he’d crawled out of a hole in the ground with the professor and he wasn’t going to…to….

Tally choked back his grief. He wasn’t going to diminish the man and his memory by giving in now.

He carried on, retracing their steps, trying to shake off images of the ground stirring, rising, toppling Nathaniel off his feet, and that…thing. He couldn’t even work out where it came from. Had it crawled out of the ground? Had Nathaniel been walking on it, mistaken it as part of the landscape? Tally had done the same in that case. He’d seen no evidence of it until it just…emerged, and by that time he’d been on the tail end of it and it had flipped him over. When he’d struggled up, the creature had already been chasing down the professor, and, and… Tally shuddered at the thought of what must have gone through the professor’s mind at the last.

He could see the camp. Someone was waving. Or maybe it was just his swaying. Tally didn’t seem to be able to walk straight. He must look drunk to the others.

He saw a face. Kaplan running towards him. Bedford. The man was on Kaplan’s heels. Wollf frowned, creases appearing in that usually so smooth almost expressionless but pretty face. That more than anything seemed to indicate how Tally’s world, even the meaning of his being here, had changed.

Tally sunk to his knees. He wanted to claw his fingers into his hair, maybe even weep and wail, but he was a stronger man than that. Just, in this instant, he wished he weren’t.

He swallowed, looked up into Bedford’s confused anxious face. Opened his mouth to tell him what had happened, and hesitated. He didn’t see how anyone would ever believe him, but that wasn’t what gave him pause. To say it made it true.

Nate was dead. Swallowed by some gigantic beastie. Feckin hell! That was no way for a man to go.

He looked up at Bedford and indicated his helplessness with a simple shake of his head.