The Weight of Souls (12 page)

I shivered, tore my eyes from the invisibly throbbing black Mark and tucked my hand under my arm. I needed more information. I had to speak to someone who knew Justin better than I did.

My hand hovered over the phone, tendons standing proud. I had to call Pete.

Viciously I punched in his number from memory, hurting my fingertip as I jammed the digits.

“Hello.”

“It’s Taylor.”

There was silence for a moment and I wondered if Pete had put the phone down. Finally he spoke. “Right. Why are you calling me?”

I exhaled. “I know they haven’t found Justin yet–”

“What do you care?” His anger shivered down the line.

“I was just going to ask if you could tell me some of his hang outs. I-I thought I could help, maybe spend some time at one or two this weekend in case he turns up.”

“
You
want to help.” His scorn burned, but then I had no cause to complain. He was right; there was no way I’d be making this call if Justin hadn’t Marked me.

I swallowed. “I guess there’re a lot of people out there looking for him, but a fresh set of eyes can’t hurt, can it?”

The phone sat silent in my hand. I closed my eyes, wondering if my one-time friend would believe me.

“You haven’t been at school much this week.” Pete’s tone was accusatory. “Hannah’s been on her own.”

“I know.” Guilt hoarsened my voice. “I’ve been ill.”

“Yeah, like always. Her mum’s been a bitch. Have you even called her?”

“I… Not yet.” I looked at the Mark on my hand again. It was all I could think about. Hannah hadn’t even crossed my mind.

“But suddenly you’re worried about
Justin
,” Pete sneered. “Hannah deserves better.”

“I know.” I closed my eyes.

“And I’ve been telling her so.”

“You’ve no right.” My eyes snapped open.

“I’ve every right. I have no idea what’s going on with you, but then I never did. Neither does she.”

“I’ll be back at school soon and back to normal.”

“This
is
normal for you.”

“Pete…” My eyes were caught by my own hand. As if it were under a spotlight that suddenly dimmed, the stain darkened right in front of me. I almost gagged. “I was calling to find out about Justin, I’ll sort things out with Hannah, but–” I remembered what Dad had said when he asked if I felt guilty. “I fought with him just before he went missing, I feel really bad. I just want to know that he’s alright. That it isn’t my fault.” The lie felt like ashes in my mouth, but it was enough to give Pete pause.

“If you’re trying to pull something–” he said finally.

“I honestly want to find Justin.” Every atom of my body trembled with sincerity. He’d hear it. He knew me.

Eventually he sighed. “Fine, whatever. We went to the Empire quite a bit and we hung out at the Walkabout a few times, but I can’t see him in there without Harley. He and Tamsin loved Camden and…” He paused. “I guess it doesn’t matter if I tell you. He spent a lot of time at the Science Museum.”

“The Science Museum.” Something about that made me sit up.

“Yeah. Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not. I might check out the Museum then.”

“Fine.” Pete didn’t hang up. The sound of his breathing reminded me of all the time I’d spent on the phone with him over the years. I was tempted to ask what he thought of last night’s telly or what I'd missed at school. The words quivered on my lips, but never surfaced.

Then the dial tone hummed in my ear.

And in my mind the fourth entry of Oh-Fa’s journal:

 

Less than an hour later the hole is wide enough to admit two men and of the original icon, only the feet remain.
 

Now stairs descend from the sand but, despite the blazing sunlight, I can see no further than five treads; the sixth is covered in darkness as impenetrable as treacle.
 

I have returned to the tent to collect my tools and admit that I am reluctant to go back to the crypt. Pimples speckle my arms in defiance of the heat. It seems strange that we have been camped above the dark-tombed dead this whole week.
 

I cannot shift the words of the I-Ching from my head, they circle like hawks: The way that can be described is not the true way.
 

Something about this feels wrong and I would give a lot not to have to descend that staircase.
 

I think of my son, perhaps newborn. Not that. Never that.
 

It is time to go.
 

 

 

12

 

TRAPPED INSIDE THE CIRCLE

 

Instead of going to school I stood on Exhibition Road, leaned against the railings that hemmed the street and looked up at the flag above the building. It snapped in the wind but I couldn’t hear it over the road noise. My eyes followed the lines of columns that bordered the windows, down the smog-stained stonework, to the worn gold name above the huge doors.

I hadn’t been to the Science Museum since I was a kid. The website had said there were five floors and I had no idea which of them Justin might have headed for.

I shaded my eyes and peered at the windows, secretly hoping for some sort of sign. But there was nothing to see but sun glinting from darkened glass.

A stream of people poured from South Ken station and knocked my elbow as I glared at the printed map scrunched in my gloved hand.

Irritation forced speed into my pulse. There were too many people here, too many ways for the dead to disguise themselves. I had to get off the street. I shoved the map into my backpack and dodged through a gap in the crowd to run up the museum steps.

Then I paused. The shadows around the great doors seemed too dark, too cold. I licked my lips and strained my ears. The street sounds continued, noisy and normal. Shaking my head I ran in, towards the well-lit security checkpoint.

Time was getting tighter. Justin had to be here.

 

I queued behind a school group then handed my backpack to a guard whose smile was already looking strained.

“Got any sharp objects?” He raised his eyebrows at me.

“No.”

“Any of this?” He gestured to a laminated sheet showing a range of lethal weaponry.

“No.”

“Alright then.” He briefly lifted my cardigan from the top of my pack so he could see my purse, Oyster card, keys and can of drink. Then he handed my pack back to me. “Enjoy your visit.”

 

I stood by the information desk in the gaping entranceway. There were too many options. I was planted like a rock in a sandstorm, my feet unsure which way to turn. Should I take the lift? Start at the Garden and work my way up to the fifth floor? Maybe I ought to head straight on, past the ticket booth for the iMax? According to the map, that route would take me through an area dedicated to space travel and into a display about energy.

Above the ticket booth there hung a huge metal hoop. It was so big it reached the third floor. An electronic display inside its rim drew my eye. The little lights danced endlessly, trapped inside the circle, seeking a way out that they would never find. It spoke to me. I headed towards the glowing ring.

 

Beyond the light-filled ring I caught my breath. Ahead of me a space shuttle hung in a dark-shrouded room. People walked towards me in pairs but I ignored their irritated huffs, refusing to move and forcing them to part in order to pass me. It was dark in there, full of shadow. I took a step backwards; I didn’t have to go this way. There was no guarantee that Justin was on the other side.

But then his voice came back to me: “I was going to study engineering.”

If he was here, he would be in the Engineering section and that was on the other side of the cloying darkness. I straightened my shoulders and walked into the false night-time.

To get out in record time I planned to march through the exhibit, looking neither left, nor right, but then glimmering displays caught my eye. There were whirling representations of planets and stars, and engines from real shuttles. They looked like Dalek mutations but had propelled man into the vacuum of space and brought him safely home.

Awe filled me and instead of striding straight on, I faltered and my eyes flickered from plastic astronauts to their replica equipment. Then I saw a quote on the wall.

“An unseen force pressed me to the couch as if lead had been poured over me. Breathing became more difficult. The weight bearing down on us robbed us of the ability to speak. It ate all sound, leaving only wheezes and grunts.”
 

I stood reading and rereading it. “
It ate all sound
”. In my mind there was no doubt; astronaut Vasili Lazarev had experienced the Darkness.

Panting like a long distance runner I darted from the space exhibit and burst gratefully into the light of the Energy section.

I bent over until my breathing felt more normal then I straightened. A giant silver plane was suspended just ahead of me as if flying through the giant hall. My shoulders twitched before I managed to suppress the instinct to duck. Embarrassed, I pushed my hair back over my shoulders. The hall was bright, light, silver and white. The only dark patches were on the aged metal of machines from earlier centuries.

I adjusted my bag and walked forward. Shadows were not permitted in this realm of science.

This was more like it.

 

The hall was crowded, but my eyes moved, constantly seeking the missing ghost. I clenched my gloved fist as he failed to materialise.

In case I’d missed him I circled the energy section twice more, growing familiar with the locomotives, cars and planes surrounding me. He wasn’t there.

On the way towards the exit, shoulders sagging, I passed Stephenson’s
Rocket
and hesitated. The first of its kind, it looked utterly out of place in front of the shiny engines that had superceded it.

I took a tiny step forward. My hand lifted as if to touch the huge wooden wheels, but I couldn’t reach past the stand.
Rocket
was to look at, not to touch.

Without
Rocket
there would have been no
Apollo
. I shook my head and willed my feet to move, but they didn’t. The metal barrel of its body led my eye to the black chimney… and Justin dropped out of the bottom.

I gasped and relief almost knocked me to the floor. I had found him. Nervously I exhaled, if he ran off again I was in deep trouble. Somehow I had to keep him calm.

I watched in anxious silence as Justin stepped backwards out of
Rocket
, wiping his hands as though he’d been doing maintenance on the locomotive’s innards. He didn’t turn his head to acknowledge me, but he knew I was there. He froze and put one hand on a wheel that was almost as big as he was.

“Did you know Stephenson was basically uneducated?” His voice was loud in the hall. All the suspended technology invited a church-like silence but Justin’s voice boomed.

I blinked at his words and he carried on, still refusing to look at me.

“When he was seventeen he went to night school so he could read and write. He learned all about engines in the collieries and invented a safety lamp that would burn without exploding. Then this ‘educated’ scientist accused him of nicking his idea.”

I swallowed, unable to bridge the gap between us. “I didn’t know that.”

“Then did you know that
Rocket
killed a man?”

I shook my head, but he talked on, as if I hadn’t moved. “William Huskisson, Member of Parliament for Liverpool. He was attending the opening of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway. He was the first ever guy under a train.” He hesitated and his fingers stroked the killer engine. “Bet you’ve seen a few of those.”

I shuffled my feet. “Not really.” He didn’t show that he’d heard me. “Are you coming out of there?”

“
Rocket
changed the world.” Justin still didn’t look at me. “Did you know they’re testing a network of personal driverless pods at Heathrow? They could be all over the world by the time we’re…
you’re
fifty.”

“Justin…”

“I was going to change the world.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Now he looked at me and I took a step back, almost tripping over the wheels of a pram. I weathered a glare from the mother and turned back to Justin.

He finally moved his hands from
Rocket
and spread them wide. “I know people say that, but I had ideas. We could have made them happen, Dad and me, just like Robert and his son.”

I gestured to the train he’d dropped from. “You get it then? You’re dead.”

He put his hand through the engine then pulled it free and nodded. “It’s been nearly a week and I don’t need to eat or sleep. I haven’t even been able to touch anyone since you.” His eyes met mine.

“Well, you aren’t touching me again.” I wrapped my hands around my elbows. “Tell me who killed you and you can move on.”

Justin shook his head slowly. “I don’t get this. I don’t get why you can see me when no one else can.”

A Japanese family moved towards me and I pressed my lips together. Then I gestured curtly for Justin to follow me and headed towards the lift.

 

We stood in silence as we rose towards the fifth floor. Justin said nothing more about engineering, Stephenson, or his Dad and every time he moved, I moved too – away from him, as though we were opposing magnets.

Finally the lift doors opened onto a white corridor with two exits. In one I could see a plastic replica of a skinned cow. I shuddered and turned the other way.

“The Science and Art of Medicine?” Justin frowned.

“I’m betting it’ll be quiet.” I paused with my hand on the door. A security guard glared at me through the glass but I was thinking about the dim lighting. I considered changing my mind and heading for the skinned cow, but apart from the guard, the room was empty; we’d be able to talk.