The Warriors of Brin-Hask Page 2

  Tom stood up from his desk and limped toward Charlie. He was furious, but Amelia noticed, also very reluctant to get any closer to the gateway room than necessary.

  ‘What’s the big deal?’ he said quietly, with an intensity that was chilling. ‘Don’t you realise how dangerous the gateway is?’

  ‘Dangerous!’ said Charlie. ‘I told you, I only want to look. It’s not like I’m going to go through.’

  Tom took another half-step toward him.

  ‘The gateway isn’t a lift. It’s not like the door only opens when the carriage is there. The gateway is a living thing – a whole system of wormholes that are always moving and jostling one another for position. And as they move, the wormholes set off currents in space, so that the gateway is always active, always sighing, and heaving, and –’ Tom shivered, ‘– sucking. Anything can get pulled through if it’s close enough to be caught in the current. And if you were sucked through without a wormhole to catch you, we’d never be able to find you, because you wouldn’t have gone somewhere we could ever look. You’d have been lost in the Nowhere.’

  Amelia gripped the edge of Tom’s table, as though the gateway were already tugging at her. Charlie, however, was shining in wonder.

  ‘Cool,’ he said breathlessly.

  Tom glared at him, and Charlie plodded reluctantly back to the front room.

  ‘Right,’ Tom said gruffly. ‘Now off you go. I don’t know what your parents want me to do about that complaint business, but it seems that the best thing is to get on with running the show as well as we can until then. And I’ve got both hands full trying to get organised for the next two arrival parties.’

  ‘Two arrivals?’ said Amelia. ‘But Mum only told us about the Brin-Hask. Who else is coming?’

  ‘What? Oh, slip of the tongue.’ Tom huffed and shuffled his charts around. ‘Go on, then, off you go. And tell your dad the feast must be ready for the Brin-Hask. There’ll be trouble if it isn’t.’

  The two kids picked their way out of the cottage, and back into the late afternoon sun.

  ‘That went well,’ said Amelia dryly.

  ‘I thought it went excellently,’ Charlie grinned.

  ‘We didn’t tell him about the red eyes, and you got in massive trouble!’

  ‘No,’ Charlie corrected her. ‘We found out more about the gateway, and got Tom so annoyed he forgot to ask for the change from his mayonnaise. We scored nearly eight bucks!’

  Amelia laughed, but stopped abruptly as the little house behind them vibrated so violently that the windows rattled. A low, grinding sound shook the ground. Amelia stared at Charlie, wondering what might have happened to him if he’d been at the top of the stairs while this was going on.

  ‘Let’s go.’ She grabbed Charlie by the arm and headed back up the hill to the hotel. Charlie went along placidly.

  ‘I can’t wait to see the Brin-Hask. I wonder if they’re guns-and-bazooka-type warriors, or if they’re more into death-rays and lasers? I can’t decide which would be cooler.’

  ‘I can’t wait to find out who the second arrival is,’ said Amelia.

  Charlie said, ‘I think Tom just made a mistake.’ ‘So do I,’ Amelia agreed. ‘But I think the mistake was letting us know.’

  ‘We never should have come back to the hotel,’ Charlie grouched, dragging the garbage bag behind him. ‘We should have gone straight back to Archie’s and spent all of Tom’s money on lollies. Instead …’ He made a disgusted sound.

  Amelia hoisted her own bag over her shoulder and followed James into the next bedroom. She and Charlie had been given a dustpan and brush each, and had to sweep up all the rat poo and chewed rubbish they found while James, who was wearing heavy leather gardening gloves, checked all the rat traps and poison baits. So far, James definitely had the better job, because while Amelia and Charlie had found plenty of poo to sweep – and it stank – James hadn’t found a single dead rat or sprung trap to deal with.

  Dad couldn’t see any sign of where the rat had come from in the kitchen, either.

  ‘They’ve taken the cheese out of the traps,’ said James, ‘but left the poison baits untouched. It’s almost as if they know what they’re doing.’

  ‘Of course they do,’ said Charlie scathingly. ‘They’re alien rats, aren’t they?’

  Amelia watched James closely and thought she saw a tremor in his cheek before he scoffed, ‘Are you still playing make-believe? Aliens! As if.’

  Charlie opened his mouth to retort, but Amelia shook her head. What was the point? If James refused to believe the gateway was real and thought Amelia and Charlie had made up the aliens as a game, and that (for some reason) all the adults including Tom had decided it would be fun to play along too … well, you couldn’t argue with a person that deliberately dumb. At least, arguing hadn’t worked on him so far.

  James got down on his hands and knees and peered under a bed. Another empty trap. And then, ‘Hey what’s this?’

  He stood up and held out a familiar black cylinder with brass rings along its length. It was a holo-emitter. James was about to throw it in the box with the traps when Charlie said, ‘Wait! That’s mine!’

  James’ eyes narrowed. ‘Yours? What’s it doing up here, then?’

  ‘I just remembered,’ said Charlie. ‘We were playing hide-and-seek the other day. That’s when I dropped it!’

  ‘Ah, well, in that case then,’ James said kindly, holding the holo-emitter out to Charlie. ‘You know what they say? Finders, keepers!’

  He snatched back his hand and put the emitter in the top pocket of his shirt.

  ‘That’s not fair!’ Charlie was livid. ‘You don’t even know what it is!’

  James refused to be drawn. ‘I know it’s mine now. And you could have found it yourself if you were doing a better job with that dustpan and brush.’

  Charlie looked like he wanted to hit James, but Amelia pulled him out to the corridor.

  ‘What?’ Charlie snapped.

  ‘Let it go,’ said Amelia.

  ‘No! Why should I?’

  ‘Well, for one thing, you should’ve already given it back to Tom, so you can’t really complain to anyone that you lost it. Plus,’ she spoke over Charlie’s objections, ‘you haven’t been able to figure out how to use it yet. If anyone can, it’s James. He’s a genius with gadgets, and if you don’t want to ask Tom for help, James is the best person to solve it, or fix it, or whatever the problem is. Also,’ and here she got a look in her eye, ‘if James does figure it out, he will have actual, physical proof in his own hands that the alien stuff is real. If you want revenge on him for anything, then let him deal with that.’

  Charlie calmed down. ‘Yeah, but still …’

  Amelia sighed. ‘OK, one more reason: the more you want the holo-emitter, the more you care, the more determined James will be to never, ever let you see it again. Act cool, and you might have a chance.’

  ‘Fine.’ Charlie turned to go back to poo sweeping when a movement caught his eye – something outside the big picture window at the end of the hall.

  ‘Amelia! Quick!’

  She ran to stand beside him, just in time to see a figure in a long, dark coat disappear into the hedge maze.

  ‘Who was that?’ Amelia said in a low voice.

  ‘One of the Brin-Hask dudes, do you reckon?’ Charlie sounded excited. ‘Come through early?’

  ‘Or,’ said Amelia, ‘that extra arrival we’re not supposed to know about.’

  Saturday was clear and beautiful. After a crisp morning down at the beach, splashing through the freezing water and hauling up seaweed, the sun was delicious on their legs. A light wind off the sea carried the sound of the waves far below, and rustled the trees so the bushland seemed
to sway. Amelia sprawled on the grassy hillside with Charlie, and wondered how she had ever fit herself into that tiny flat back in the city.

  ‘So you still haven’t met Lady Naomi?’ Charlie asked. ‘And you live in the same house?’

  ‘The same hotel. She has her own toilet and shower, and she never eats with us, so … no. Anyway, you’re here almost as much as I am. Have you seen her?’

  Of course he hadn’t, but he was spared admitting it as a huge, old-fashioned saloon car crunched up the gravel driveway. Amelia knew nothing about cars, but even she could understand why Charlie scrambled to his feet in astonishment. It was a gorgeous, dark green, elegant, luxurious automobile. They raced up to the hotel’s turning circle to get a closer look.

  Amelia wondered who would get out of a car like that. One of the foreign leaders Mum used to work with when she was a diplomat? Some billionaire who wanted to buy the hotel? A rock star who wanted to record an album here?

  The driver’s door opened and out stepped a tall, thin, slightly stooped man. He was wearing white cotton gloves, held a handkerchief to his nose, and peered up at the hotel with a foul expression. Amelia watched him take a briefcase from the back seat of his car, and then walk stiffly up the steps, sniffing with distaste as he rapped on the door.

  Dad opened the door.

  ‘Snavely!’ he beamed. ‘I can’t believe they sent you! How are things back at HQ?’

  Mr Snavely’s mouth didn’t relax as much as a millimetre as he stepped into the lobby. Dad, holding the door open for him, saw Amelia and Charlie standing there.

  ‘Oh, kids, come on up,’ said Dad. His grin, Amelia saw, was slightly too wide. ‘I want you to meet Mr Snavely.’

  Mr Snavely turned and peered down his long nose at Amelia and Charlie and said, ‘Ah, yes – the children.’ He made it sound like children were a horrible disease he didn’t want to catch. He turned to Dad. ‘Isn’t there another one?’

  ‘Another …’ Dad hesitated. ‘Oh, another kid! Yes, hold on a moment – James!’ he bellowed up to the second floor.

  Amelia was confused. Dad knew Mr Snavely. It sounded like they might have worked together, or perhaps Dad just knew something about Mr Snavely’s office. Was he another scientist? Maybe he had an amazing brain, even if he wasn’t very friendly. But Amelia didn’t know any scientist with a car like Mr Snavely’s.

  Mum stuck her head out of the library and saw who it was. ‘Oh, hello, Adrian. Let me go and get James for you, Scott.’

  She hurried up the stairs to the family wing of the hotel, while Amelia grew more and more puzzled. Why would her parents want Mr Snavely to meet James? Mr Snavely didn’t look that keen to meet anyone. Maybe he was a strange uncle they’d never heard of before.

  Mr Snavely looked around him. ‘And the caretaker?’

  ‘Tom,’ said Dad. ‘Yes, he’s down in his cottage. We thought you’d probably like to see his set-up for yourself.’

  Mum came back down the stairs, James trailing behind her. ‘Mr Snavely, this is James. James, this is Mr Snavely,’ she glanced at him, ‘the Health Inspector.’

  Ahh … now it made sense. And a Health Inspector might be a kind of scientist, measuring temperatures, taking samples of bacteria in the kitchen, that sort of thing.

  ‘And this is the extent of the spread?’ said Mr Snavely. ‘Apart from the caretaker?’

  ‘And Charlie’s mum, Mary Floros,’ said Dad. ‘Our housekeeper. I put it all in the paperwork I sent you.’

  ‘Yes …’ Mr Snavely opened his briefcase and took out a sheaf of papers. ‘This is what you sent us originally, before the placement began. But already containment has been breached. And with the first guest under your care! What I want to know is –’

  ‘How the kitchen looks!’ Dad blurted. ‘I know, it’s the obvious place to start your inspection, isn’t it!’

  Dad led him down the hallway.

  Mr Snavely slunk into the kitchen.

  ‘What a freak!’ Charlie whispered to Amelia.

  Mary came down the stairs from the guests’ wing, an enormous laundry basket in her arms. ‘Oh, hello! You all here to help me with the curtains?’

  ‘Err, no, Mary,’ said Mum. ‘Scott’s just taken the Health Inspector to the kitchen.’

  ‘Oh.’ Mary bit her lip. ‘Well, I suppose … well … how bad can it be? We’ve only just opened. It was only one complaint. There can’t be –’

  Mary’s attempt to look on the bright side was cut off by a high, warbling scream, and then a heavy clang, as though a saucepan had been thrown. It sounded a lot like Mr Snavely had a complaint of his own.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Amelia muttered. ‘I bet it’s all that seaweed we collected this morning. We just dumped it on the bench.’

  But seaweed didn’t explain the sound of more pots and pans being thrown, or why Dad was now shouting along with Mr Snavely.

  Amelia and Charlie ran to the door, aware of both mums calling them back, but unable to resist the noise. They had to know what was going on. Charlie flung open the door, and Amelia saw Mr Snavely standing in the sink, holding his briefcase in both hands, his face utterly white.

  She couldn’t blame him. It seemed Dad had finally discovered where all those rats were hiding. For some reason, the Health Inspector must have been poking around those couple of dodgy floorboards in the corner of the kitchen, next to the oven. Amelia could see a carving knife wedged between two planks, as though about to prise one up. And next to that …

  She gulped.

  Dad was standing a metre from the oven, a broom held defensively in his hands, staring at a hole in the floor. Two or three floorboards had been pushed up and out of the way, and in the cavity below, dozens of tiny red lights twinkled. No, flashed on and off. No, she realised in horror – they blinked. She was looking not at dozens of tiny red lights, but dozens of pairs of tiny red eyes. The space under the floor was filled with rats whose eyes glowed in the dark.

  ‘This is outrageous!’ Mr Snavely said shrilly. ‘This isn’t a containment breach any longer. We’re talking illegal entries! Harbouring! Total border-security failure!’

  ‘Adrian,’ Dad said through his teeth. ‘Not now.’

  ‘Forget about losing the hotel, Walker. I’ll see you jailed for this! Jailed, you hear me?’

  ‘You can’t jail people for rats!’ Charlie shouted.

  Mr Snavely was turning purple by now. ‘This is chaos, Walker. I knew you’d fail, but not this quickly!’

  ‘It’s just rats!’ Charlie cried, which was very loyal of him, but totally untrue. Anyone could see these were anything but just rats.

  Mr Snavely shrieked again, and Amelia saw the rats had begun to creep out of their nest. Six of them had inched forward, and now their heads and shoulders were out of the hole, their front paws all resting on the edge of the floor. They were massive, hulking things, almost as big as cats, only more solid and far more threatening. Dad stared at them warily, and when he didn’t move or try to push them back with his broom, the six hopped up in unison, landing in perfect formation.

  They crept forward, and Amelia saw another six line up behind to take their place. And behind them, another twelve eyes glowed in the dark. How many more rats were down there, all lined up in sixes and waiting their turn to emerge?

  ‘OK,’ said Dad, very calmly and gently. ‘I think it’s about time we casually strolled out of here. Kids, you first. Just very slowly wander back out the way you came. OK?’

  But Mr Snavely had his own idea. Without waiting for Amelia and Charlie to move, he leapt out of the sink, landing badly on the floor and twisting his ankle. He cried out in pain, and then again in terror as the rats charged at him.

  Amelia sc
reamed. Dad yelped and scrambled onto the oven. There was a blur of movement and a deafening crash as Charlie dove at the floor, bringing half a bench worth of kitchen utensils down with him. Mr Snavely jumped up and bolted, chased from the room by four or five beautifully disciplined rows of rats.

  Amelia pressed herself up against the wall, but Charlie whooped in triumph, standing on top of a huge steel colander he’d tipped upside down. ‘I got one! I got one!’

  ‘Charlie!’ Dad roared. ‘Get out of here! Amelia, go!’

  Amelia ran from the kitchen, hooking her arm through Charlie’s as she went and dragging him away from the upturned colander. They burst into the lobby where Mum, Mary and James still stood, their faces blank with shock.

  ‘Are you …’ Mum struggled for something to say. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Never! Never in all my –’ stammered Mr Snavely, before finally gathering himself. ‘You’re finished!’ He shrieked. ‘Do you hear me? We’ll be back first thing tomorrow to – to deal with you people! This is the end, for all of you!’

  James was the first to react. Pale with fright, he snapped straight back into Mega-Jerk mode and said, ‘Well, fantastic. If anyone needs me, I’ll be upstairs finishing off my packing.’

  No-one stopped him going.

  The lobby still echoed with the sound of the front door slamming behind Mr Snavely. Amelia was shivering slightly, but Charlie was doing a curious sort of dance – one part leaping in celebration that he had trapped a rat under the colander, one part desperate frustration that he wasn’t back in the kitchen with Amelia’s dad.

  Mum reached behind the reception desk and pressed the button that called Tom.

  One last bang from the kitchen, and then Dad at last came through the door to the lobby.

  ‘Out to the driveway, you lot,’ he said wearily. ‘I don’t want anyone near that kitchen for a while.’ He clapped his hand on Mum’s shoulder. ‘What do you think, Skye? Good first impression?’