As a diversion, he glanced through the carriage window. ‘This isn’t the way to the palace,’ he said at once.
‘No, sir, indeed not, sir. That’s because we’re not going to the palace, sir.’
‘Where are we going?’ Pyrgus frowned.
‘Not at leave to say, sir. Security, sir.’
That was typical of Blue. She was nearly as paranoid as Mr Fogarty. All the same, it had to be something pretty serious for her to want to meet him somewhere other than the palace.
A thought struck him and he asked, ‘Am I the only one coming to this meeting?’
‘Couldn’t say, sir,’ said the Captain.
The seat squeezed Pyrgus’s bottom distractingly. He ignored it and looked out of the window again. Maybe he’d been a bit hasty in ignoring Blue’s first messages. She might be bossy, but she wasn’t stupid and she was Queen now, with responsibility for everything that happened in the Realm. She knew how he felt about affairs of State, so she would hardly have sent for him if it hadn’t been important. The very least he could do was give her a bit of support. He scowled. Now he was feeling guilty.
The carriage, he realised, was leaving the city through Cripple’s Gate. Which meant Blue had called her little meeting not just away from the palace, but away from any of the official residences. In all probability she’d hired somewhere, or, even more likely, had Madame Cardui arrange a safe house. He wondered where it was.
Nearly twenty minutes later, it turned out to be a small manor house surrounded by trees and so many security devices it was all Pyrgus could do to keep from laughing. He’d really have to talk to Blue about all this nonsense. Except the figure on the doorstep wasn’t Blue.
It was Black Hairstreak.
Thirteen
Henry froze. This was straight out of Close Encounters of the Third Kind. The craft was massive – easily the size of two or three articulated trucks – and hung, humming, perhaps six feet above the surface of the road (which was vibrating just the way the ground at Mr Fogarty’s had done, he thought inconsequentially). It was like the fake photographs of every flying saucer he’d ever seen – a shining metal disc with a bump on the top and light streaming down from the bottom. There was a row of small, round portholes (although he couldn’t see anything through them) and above them another circle of lights. Any minute now, if this was the movies, it would put down a silvery ramp and a little green man with a big head and enormous eyes would walk out.
The saucer put down a silvery ramp and a little green man with a big head and enormous eyes walked out.
Henry tried to run, then suddenly felt very calm.
In his calm, frozen state he became very much aware of everything around him. Particularly the silence. There was no traffic noise. The little background sounds of night animals and insects had stopped. The saucer was no longer humming.
It was a beautiful saucer. Very beautiful indeed.
The little man was definitely green, but not bright green or olive green or grass green or anything like that. If you were filing a report for the police (although it was silly to think of filing a report for anybody) you would strictly need to say he had a greenish tint to his skin, which was otherwise grey.
The little green man turned in his direction. His eyes were very big and very black and very beautiful. If Henry looked deeply into them, he could see stars and constellations. He could see the depths of Space. The little green man began to walk in Henry’s direction.
Somewhere buried deep inside the Henry who was calm there was a second Henry screaming to get out. The second Henry was in a panic, hysterical, terrified. The second Henry wanted to fight, wanted to smash the little man down, mash him into the ground underfoot like a bug (and could probably have done it too since the little man’s limbs were spindly as twigs). But most of all, the second Henry wanted to run away from the little green man and the big glowing saucer as if the devil himself were after him.
Henry screamed, but no sound came out. He couldn’t move. The little green man was looking at him and he was completely paralysed. It occurred to him he might be about to die.
The little green man looked deep into his eyes and climbed into his head.
It was horrible having somebody inside his head: like an insect crawling relentlessly into his ear, only worse. The little green man crawled relentlessly into Henry’s mind, lifting up flaps here and there to look at Henry’s private thoughts. Look, there was Henry’s sister Aisling with a dagger sticking out of her head. Look, there was Blue in her bath. Look, there was Henry’s mum explaining why everything she did was actually for Henry’s benefit.
The little green man seemed to be looking for something. Or maybe just making sure who Henry was. He crawled and crawled and poked and prodded. Once he watched a memory of Henry sitting on the loo. There was nowhere he couldn’t go, nowhere he didn’t go.
And then he withdrew.
A beam of bright blue light emerged from the flying saucer and played over Henry. Although he didn’t move, he felt as if he was turned upside down to stand on his head. Then he turned the right way up again and began to tremble. The tremble became a vibration and the vibration became a scream. The blue light began to draw Henry up off the road towards the flying saucer.
Something in Henry told him he must be dreaming. It was the only thing that made sense. He must have got tired walking home and lain down by the side of the road for a little nap. Now he was dreaming. He had to be dreaming, because there was no door in the saucer and he was floating through the metal hull, which was impossible unless he was dreaming.
Henry was inside the flying saucer. The light was gone, the little green man was gone and there didn’t seem to be anybody else in there. He was no longer paralysed either. He could move his hands and his arms and his legs. In fact he felt normal. But what was happening wasn’t normal. He was on board a flying saucer and the aliens had toddled off somewhere. That meant he could escape.
He wanted to escape. God knew he wanted to escape. But…
There was something wrong with him. He knew it for certain now. He wasn’t dreaming. This was too real to be dreaming. But at the same time it was exactly like a dream. Things happened. Now the thing that happened was he found himself exploring, not escaping.
The saucer was even larger on the inside than it looked from the outside, like a tardis. He was in a room with silver walls and a soft, squishy floor that seemed somehow… organic. There were no windows and he couldn’t find the light source. (Although there was light: a friendly rosy glow.) There was a door without a handle, but as he approached, it slid open automatically the way doors did in Star Trek . Or Tesco’s.
He was in a corridor that meandered like a stream. And little branches meandered off it – often only a few yards long – leading into other chambers. Some had doors, some hadn’t. Henry meandered with the corridor and discovered chambers with metallic pods, chambers with weapons racks (the weapons looked like laser rifles), a chamber stuffed with giant eggs. (At least he thought they might be giant eggs, since they were large and white and egg-shaped.) He seemed to wander for hours, peering into chamber after chamber. The funny thing was, he never found a kitchen or a bathroom.
He found a horrible, scary room.
Henry opened the door and was half blinded by a sudden glare. Then his eyes adjusted and he was looking at banks of huge transparent tubes, each one larger than he was. There was a maze of wires and piping running from the tubes to a control console in the middle of the room. Nearly half the tubes were lit by violet light so you could see there was a thick, gooey liquid inside, bubbling like a great, slow fish-tank. Floating in the liquid were scores of naked human babies, their eyes tight shut, their little hands opening and closing together in a ghastly rhythm.