The Quantum Objective (6 page)

Mumbai, India
Holy mother of God, how can it be this hot? Beth sat motionless as the tiniest movement brought a fresh wave of sweat gushing from every pore. She desperately wished she’d gone by car into the city, but cars were easy to track. Every time the train stopped, the thick air did its best to suffocate her.
She glanced down at Galen who sat opposite, soaked with sweat, but relaxed. She was amazed by his fortitude and progress over the last six weeks. She’d killed her email, mobile and bank card, bought loose diamonds in Rome with her winnings and traded them for cash as they moved east by train and road. It was easiest to carry the stones in a money pouch strapped to a slim cable round her hips.
Their run from the Masks had been mainly nocturnal and slow until Galen had marched her into a busy Athenian market one day. He’d sat on a low wall with eyes closed as Beth tried to look casual whenever a curious glance came their way. He’d practiced again and again his exposure to crowds as they made their way across Europe, until he could talk and smile at her over a treat in a jam-packed Istanbul cafe. Only occasionally did he abruptly get up and leave, sprinting from a particular individual or group.
Their journey had normalised till Limassol. After a seaside stroll, they’d returned to their hotel where the clerk, key in hand, wondered whether they’d caught up with their uncle. They’d fled to the airport and hadn’t stopped since.
She turned to look out of the door-less carriage where a few people stood, risking life and limb for a little extra air.
Vashi,
painted
on a sign, marked the halfway point on their journey. There were few tourists on the train and none in their carriage. They could scarcely have been more conspicuous.
Thank goodness no one’s bothered us.
The train jerked and tugged out of the station. Beth released the grip on her small bag just as two Indian men jumped through the moving doorway and looked directly at her, no masks this time to hide their intent.
A jet of adrenaline hit her heart with a bang, defibrillating rage through her muscles. One stinking attacker squeezed next to her and the other leaned close to Galen. He allowed Beth to see a polished blade before pushing it into a pocket close to Galen’s torso.
No!
The scream filled her head but her lips didn’t move. Her breathing sharpened as red mist tinted her vision. Galen closed his eyes and the wrath came. It exploded out of nowhere and took her as much by surprise as it did everyone in the carriage. Her boot kicked high just missing Galen’s head. The knife-man reeled to one side, but her heel slammed his bicep.
In one move she grabbed Galen and ran for the open doorway. She pushed past bemused passengers as the men shouted close behind, knives flashed sunshine around the carriage. Beyond the doorway lay nothingness.
What the hell? Open ocean lay hundreds of feet below, the view broken only by steel girders flashing past.
A sea bridge…shit.
‘No use in it, mahilā. They are waiting for you at the next stop.’
She glanced back. Malicious grins fuelled the fire in her chest and darkened the strange red hue. She lifted Galen; his pale features were composed.
Please let this not be the mistake of my life, Beth begged. She kissed him hard on the lips and with every ounce of strength threw him off the train, over the railings and out into the open air.
Shrill screams filled the carriage and Beth realised hers were amongst them. The passengers pressed away from her, inadvertently knocking back the gaping attackers.
Her quaking heart flew out the door with Galen. She suddenly had every formula clear in her head, instantly calculating the probable velocity and impact force of his trajectory. She swallowed a wrenching sob back down and slashed at the thought that she could have miscalculated.
Gritting her teeth, she took three steps back and ran at the opening, flinging herself into the void to a fresh chorus of shrieks. A loud crack accompanied the snap in her left arm. No pain, just the rush of an endless plunge. The air was loud and twisty. Her clothes crackled in the icy wind as it blasted her skin. Long seconds stretched on. Her stomach writhed with the knowledge that death was imminent. Her body flailed uselessly.
What have I done?
Then quiet.
*
Beth drifted in the murky water. She was about three meters away, and could see her t-shirt had been ripped off her body. It floated next to her naked torso. She watched a giant hook on a stick lower from a boat above. It caught her jean-clad leg.
Hey, be careful with that.
Beth noticed the broken arm, white bone protruded above her elbow, but she could see no gush of blood.
That can’t be good.
‘Mum, wake now… Mum!’
Galen’s yell cut through her head like a hot knife. Searing pain burned her arm. She cried out, but instead of sound came water. There was so much she couldn’t draw breath. She retched, then vomited again. Finally, her lungs sucked in a loud gulp. Confusion and the putrid stench of rotten fish filled her head.
‘Show your eyes.’
Beth groaned, and rolled onto her side. Her arm was consumed by fire. Is it still attached, or been wrenched off completely? No - amputating it with a blunt knife couldn’t hurt this much.
‘It’s going to be long to fix. I asked nicely to get better quick fast.’ Galen’s soft voice whispered close to her ear.
‘Not so quick,’ Beth said through clenched teeth.
There was a pause. Galen was clearly pondering her comment. Suddenly the heat began to fade; it cooled to a slow roast. A sob of relief pushed past her lips and tears dripped from her nose to the hot metal deck. There were voices now - male, loud and agitated.
I need to show I’m not actually dead; at least, not any more. The thought gave her pause. She remembered watching them hook her body from the water. The implications were too vast to contemplate; too weird.
I’ll review the experience later - before I decide what it means, if anything.
She rolled slowly onto her back and through narrowed eyes counted half a dozen men. Skin baked to cocoa, they stared at her, arguing in what she assumed was Hindi. Confusion receded. We have to get off this boat.
Galen was crouched close by and looked to be in rude health, though thoroughly soaked and barefoot. The nearest man, whom Beth took for the captain, was shaking his head violently. He started to shout and made wild gestures at the bridge high above; he didn't seem overly pleased that she was alive.
Beth gazed up in awe. Wow, that is one hell of a bridge. It looks a mile high from here. She shook as she reached for Galen with her good arm. She’d counted on his healing powers to kick in for them both, but the jump now seemed outlandishly stupid. She’d no right to risk his life or hers so recklessly. Guilt burgeoned up from her gut, but she pushed it back.
I don’t have the time for that now; I have to get us far away from here. There are too many witnesses. As she drooped against the hot metal side, she realised she was naked to the waist. She checked the cable was secure around her hips and hoped the money pouch was still attached. Beth looked around for some cover and the captain hurled a ragged t-shirt at her. It stank of fish and body odour.
‘Thank you,’ she pulled it on. ‘Lucky this boat was near, huh?’ she asked Galen, who was helping her injured arm through the t-shirt. She couldn’t seem to move it. There was a thick red and black crust encircling her bicep, but the burning sensation had eased further.
‘I nearly landed on top! The mans helped me find you. It was hard to feel...in the water. Mum, don’t you jump out of a train.’ Galen’s sweet clear face was serious. Beth couldn’t hold back a painful chuckle.
‘I promise never, ever, to do it again my darling. I’m sorry I did it. It wasn’t very clever and I shouldn’t have let those men scare me into it.’ Not that she’d had many options. She couldn’t risk Galen ever having to defend her directly again from their pursuers.
I never want him to be in that position. To use force against others isn’t in his nature, he’s just a baby.
‘Excuse me, sir. Will you take us to shore?’ Beth struggled to her feet and the crew stumbled away from her. She was glad they were wary.
‘Shore.’ She pointed to the distant riverbank. The bridge was fading into the distance, but they still had to get out of town.
How are those guys following us? What do I do now?
Their passports, change of clothes, everything had been left on the train. The thought of getting false identities, fake passports and goodness knew what else was daunting. She wouldn’t know where to begin.
The captain beat his head with his palms and slumped down on the gunwale. He peered off to the distant shore Beth had indicated.
He probably thinks he’s going to get into trouble, but seems to have calmed down.
‘Nhava Sheva,’ he said. He flapped his arms in resignation, gabbled at his crew and the boat turned.
‘Thank you,’ Beth bowed low and slipped back to the floor. The stench, pain and rocking motion made her retch. She lay down on the filthy deck and Galen placed a warm hand on her chest. She closed her eyes and felt his head press against hers. She woke when the boat bumped hard against a dock and she blinked in the bright sunshine.
What on earth? Looming over the fishing boat was a tower of steel. Her heart leapt. The solution surrounded her. Giant tankers lined up alongside enormous cranes, containers formed mini-mountains nearby.
Beth checked her pouch of gems was still on her.
With these I can buy safe passage to wherever these monsters are going. No passport, nothing traceable. I’ll have to be discreet; don’t want to go from the frying pan into the fire twice in one day.
She assessed the line up of vessels and grabbed Galen by the hand. With another low bow she thanked their rescuers and gingerly made her way onto the dock. A long walkway marked her path to the future; each ship would bring a different destiny and destination.
‘Sliding doors,’ she whispered. Wasn’t that the phrase?

East Coast, Mauritius - Five years later
‘Hurry mum, come on...we're going to be late.’ He couldn’t understand how it took his mum so long to get dressed. He’d even watched to see what the delay was and bizarrely, there was nothing fancy happening, even by his own loose standards. She didn’t wear makeup or even dry her long hair. She just ran a comb through it and tied it up. He couldn’t even fault her speed.
One day, with a straight face, she’d passed him a stopwatch. He’d stopped fussing then, but today was different.
He jumped up and down on the spot and wriggled his slim shoulders as though his expended energy would somehow speed her progress. He looked through the kitchen window, down the lush slope to the long strip of coral sand that held back the Indian Ocean from the road. He couldn't bear the thought of missing Rian's performance and they hadn't been to a Diwali celebration before. His toes tingled at the thought.
There’d be lots of people there; that wasn't great, but most of them would be quite happy, which helped. He didn't enjoy crowds, but this was a party and Rian would be there to show off and make him laugh. Rian was his best friend. He was also his only friend, but even if Galen had a thousand friends, he just knew Rian would still be top. That was because he was completely kind, which was rare in an eight year old. It smoothed fear like oil on water. Plus, he was quite funny. And he didn't mind at all that Galen could do magic.
Galen craned his neck to check his tiny wooden boat was still safely hooked up to the buoy. Tomorrow they’d go crab catching amongst the rock pools, or maybe push the boat into the bay. He looked out now to the reef where huge waves crashed to a shuddering halt, fall-down tired after their long journey across the ocean. He always imagined they were thankful to come to a rest.
‘Darling, have you locked up?’
Beth came out of her room and padded barefoot across the tiled floor, fiddling with her hair. She smiled at Galen's impatient frown.
‘Yes! Ages ago. We can't be late mum and it starts in ten minutes.’ Galen pointed to his watch with feeling. It was large and black with lots of dials and numbers and was totally waterproof. He’d gotten it for his birthday back in June and so far he still loved it very much.
‘When has anything in Mauritius started bang on time? Give me a little leeway here my friend, you know I've been running around like a mad woman today.’ She gave him a tight squeeze, and then a stern look of enquiry.
‘So how come you're so handsome?’
He rolled his eyes and pulled at her hand, dragging her out the front door. She grabbed her flip-flops and locked the door as he scooted to the road that carried many people.
At least we’re not the only late ones. He skipped ahead of his too-slow mother, squirting between the family groups. A couple of dogs trailed at his heels for a while, and then ran off. He kept looking back to check she was still in view.
Rule Number One: never go out of sight in a public place.
He longed to run ahead to find Rian, but his mum's orders held him as firmly as an iron chain. Soon he heard music and the crowd grew thick. It forced him to slow further. He sensed Rian before he saw him; the familiar imprint rang loud and clear through the crowd. He was under the pine trees near the beach with his family; they were setting up camp. A battered minivan blasted out catchy Bollywood music and many people were readying tables and chairs, colourful decorations and tons of food.
‘Rian! I'm here,’ Galen called to the bright blue figure bent low over a bundle of baguettes. Rian turned and a huge grin caused the blue paint to crack and crinkle. He came loping over.
‘Well, what do you think, G?’ He did a twirl and struck a dance pose.
‘Trés cool, mon pote,’ laughed Galen. He’d never seen such a spectacular costume. Dark kohl encircled his eyes, his lips were deep red and a very fancy golden headdress sat low on his brow. His ears and arms bore bright jewels and round his waist sat an enormous intricate gold belt. Galen was glad he could feel Rian’s DNA as he'd never have spotted him otherwise.
*
Beth could just see the top of Galen’s head through the crowd. That boy is pushing it these days. She smiled though, to see his confidence so high. Life as perpetual tourists on this island had done wonders for them both.
They paid their bills, kept a low profile, and nobody asked questions; those who did never doubted her story of a dead husband and a grieving son. Beth had focused on recovering from her injury and delving into her research while Galen sprouted like a weed. Tall for his age, his skin had toasted to a honey hue.
She’d limited their contact with locals. Only after two years did she concede to Galen’s pleas for a friendship with the boy from the beach. He hero-worshipped Rian and she understood the appeal. Enchanting, confident and popular, she’d been entirely unsurprised to hear he was leading the procession today.
‘Hello, Rian. You look amazing.’
‘Merci mummy G...I know.’ A white grin with two absent teeth flashed in a blue face. ‘Come let me show you which way to go, they finished the stage at the back and I think it's going to start soon.’ He spun and ran off towards the temple.
‘Late, huh?’ She turned to Galen with a raised eyebrow.
Ignoring her, he chased after Rian with a hop and a skip into the throng. The crowd pressed together now as they approached the small temple. Beth's smile flipped to a frown as she sought Galen's bobbing head.
Ha, there he is. He neared the corner of the temple and his head disappeared.
He’ll pop back round.
He didn't. Heat bubbled in her gut as she elbowed her way through the tight crowd. She raised a few curses and got a shove in the back just as she came to the corner.
‘Galen!’ Her voice cracked like a rifle in the narrow passageway. She stood for a moment open-mouthed; He wasn't there. He never disobeyed her. Not ever. The rule was written in blood - always stay in sight in public. Galen would never cross that line. A wash of chills infused her. Her gaze flashed left to right and her heart thudded in her ears as she sprinted down the alley.
She cried out when a terrible sting stabbed the base of her neck. Her hand swatted at the wasp knocking it away. She turned to stamp on the fallen culprit and the world beneath her feet veered vertical. She staggered.
It was no insect. The dart grew large in her view as she fell toward it. Strong hands grasped her tilting frame, yanking her backward. Her body lifted into a tight embrace as her swimming head fell back and blue sky filled her vision. She called for Galen, but the lights went out. Running was no longer an option.