The Comeback of the King Page 18

  Even the friendly operating systems weren’t that keen about letting go, but at least with everything out in the open, TEDLISH could see exactly what was what and pick its way around the obstacles without interfering with them. You! What are you? Oh, the memory bus? Okay, you’re kind of important so you can stay. You there! You’re what? A portion of memory set aside for your owner’s porn stream, you say? Not any more, girlfriend: I’m making you my–

  And Ted’s eyes opened suddenly wide.

  No! No way! That’s just ridiculous!

  “Arse–” Ted whispered.

  I said, it’s just ridiculous!

  “Yeah,” Ted murmured as thoughts continued to wheel in his mind.

  The siren was louder now. Ted glanced idly up as the police car hove into view. The bar of blue and red lights flashed on the roof and the sound was loud enough to drown out thought.

  And then the siren cut out and the car abruptly slowed down. Through the tinted window he saw a figure that he thought he recognised and his heart sank.

  The car pulled over and the driver climbed out. Blonde hair piled neatly beneath her cap, Inspector Amanda Stewart leaned on the roof and scowled at him.

  “Hi, Ted. Remember me?”

  Chapter 17

  “Mr Jackson thought he should leave it as a surprise.”

  The inspector didn’t take her eyes off the road, which Ted was very glad about because they were doing 80mph back to Salisbury, down a road with too many curves and rises and falls. Even after his arrest, Ted had never completely shed his little boy fantasy of driving fast in a police car with lights and siren – until now, when he learnt it was terrifying. She had insisted he sit in the back, and so when she did look at him she was talking over her shoulder.

  “That’s nice,” he muttered. She smiled without really smiling.

  “He thought you might not believe I was on your side and I can understand why you might have felt suspicious. But I am, Ted. Scout’s honour. I’m not sure what but your sister did something.”

  “Yeah.”

  She glanced suspiciously at him in the mirror.

  “She also said this whole King thing is your fault.”

  “Uh … yeah. She told me that too.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “Not really.” A pause. “It was an accident.”

  A faint, low growl came out of her, like a Rottweiler thinking of waking up and tearing his throat out.

  “Look, kid, the only reason I’m being this reasonable at all is I have a very clear memory of everything I’ve done for this King, and that means everything, including–” She trailed off and clamped her jaw, and Ted realised what she was about to talk about. He felt his face burn and wondered if there was any chance at all that the seat would swallow him up.

  She ground out: “Including an inappropriate act with an underage member of the public, and even that barely registers on the scale of things I’ve done where the nicest possible outcome could be dismissal in disgrace with forfeiture of pension. That’s what I have to face up to. So, if, before that, there’s anything I can do at all to stop this King and make some kind of restitution, then I do it. And apparently you are my knight in shining armour.”

  “If it’s any help–” Ted ventured. She shot him a glance in the mirror and he changed course quickly. He had been going to say something along the lines of: okay, it was unexpected, and not much fun, but with more acquaintance, a bit of warning and a longer run-up he probably wouldn’t mind being shown the way by an attractive, experienced older woman. But then honesty made him admit that no, that wasn’t true, in the real world he wouldn’t actually enjoy it, it would just be creepy, and even if it was true it wouldn’t be a helpful thing to say. “I’m, uh, not underage.”

  “You’re under eighteen and that’s under enough. And the worst thing is that I remember how natural it all felt. So I know why people are acting as they do. I don’t understand it, I don’t like it, but I know it. But I expect an explanation in due course, and if I find that you … you unleashed, you released, you did something that brought that King with all his mind-control powers to my town, then you are in such … such–”

  Ted couldn’t help it. He laughed.

  “In such trouble? What are you going to do me for? Calling Up a Supernatural Entity Without Due Care and Attention?”

  Another growl.

  “Well, here I am and I’m to help you. Where do you want to go?”

  Ted swallowed, his fleetingly good mood dashed, because he had thought it through (despite the unhelpful advice of the voice in his head) and could only think of one course to take. And as a responsible police officer, not to mention a human being, he knew she would try and stop him.

  “Harnham Hill. I need to get some stuff.”

  “You don’t live on Harnham Hill.”

  Their eyes met in the mirror.

  “Funny how you know so much about me. You even knew my name yesterday, before I told you, and you can’t blame the King for that. How does that work?”

  She didn’t say anything. Ted pressed on.

  “Look, you asked, I answered. Just take me to Harnham Hill. You’ll see.”

  “Harnham Hill it is, then.”

  *

  Five minutes before the city centre, the road split. City traffic continued on the main road, bearing right to go round the base of Harnham Hill. Traffic that continued in a straight line found itself going sharply up the hill itself.

  If Ted had had any intention of going home he would have told the inspector to head right.

  “Left,” he said.

  She took the turn without comment and without losing much speed, though she dropped the car down a gear to handle the gradient.

  “Whereabouts?”

  “We’re not there yet … But you could slow down–”

  Villas in their own grounds passed by on either side and the hill started to flatten.

  “Left here–”

  She turned down the road without comment. After another minute:

  “Here. You can drop me off here.”

  On their left a lane headed sharply away from the road, between two houses and into trees.

  “I’m not dropping you anywhere! I’m keeping you in sight.”

  Ted swallowed. “Okay, but pull over.”

  The car drew up and the inspector jerked the brake on.

  “So, which house?”

  “None of these, but I need to, uh–”

  Ted pulled at the door handle. It didn’t open. He was in the back seat of a police car; naturally, it needed to be opened from the outside.

  “Need to what?” she asked suspiciously. Ted sighed.

  “You said you’re meant to be helping!”

  “Ted, I’ll admit – reluctantly – that you may know more about what’s going on than I do, but giving free rein to a teenage boy to do what he will does not constitute helping. I’m law and order here and I am not leaving you alone. Got that?”

  “Fine,” Ted sighed, though he seethed inside. “Please can we get out? It’ll be easier to show you than explain. If you’ll trust me that far?”

  She held his gaze searchingly, blue eyes boring into his. He returned the look as openly and frankly as he could. Then she gave her head a kind of wiggle that was something like a very reluctant nod.

  “Okay.” She got out, came round to his door and opened it with an ungracious tug. Ted swung his bag onto his back and pushed his arms through the straps.

  “This way.”

  He walked briskly down the lane towards the belt of trees that loomed behind the houses. The way was muddy and rutted with tyre marks, and his feet scuffed through the lining of damp and mouldering leaves. They walked past garages and the back ends of gardens. The occasional glimpse into a warm, well-lit kitchen or living room just emphasised the gloom of the woods.

  Oh God, why can’t I just be warm and happy at home?

  You still could be. Just go home now. Forget about the King
.

  Did he imagine it, or was the voice in his head growing nervous?

  They climbed over a stile and Ted led them down a footpath that wound through trees and bushes. They only had about five hundred metres to go but Ted had never realised how far that could be. The woods were stripped clean of leaves by winter and damp with mist and melted frost.

  The inspector was looking around.

  “Not been up here before. Must be nice, in the summer.”

  Ted winced. He had been trying not to think of summer. One evening last summer, he and Stephen had come up here, like they had since they were little. They had knocked back a couple of cans, and Ted had had a smoke, and they had talked about computers and sex and stuff. He thought of it now as the last normal evening of his life. He had had no idea how close to the precipice everything was. And he hadn’t been back since.

  “It is. It’s protected – you know, site of special scientific interest.”

  “Uh-huh. It’s got some rare endangered butterfly or something?”

  “No.” The trees cleared and they came out at the top of the West Harnham chalk pit. Ted’s voice was almost a whisper and his mouth was dry. “It’s got geology.”

  The inspector whistled. At their feet, the other side of the fence, the ground fell away for thirty metres in a sheer drop down a ragged chalk face. Below were the houses of West Harnham, and then you looked up and all of Salisbury was spread out before them. The lights were coming on in town. It all looked a lot warmer and friendlier than up here.

  Ted peered down into the gloom at the base of the cliff. His heart began to pound, rapid and thumping, and he felt his breath speed up.

  “A lot of kids do BMX down there.” It came out almost as a gasp. “There’s jumps and ramps and things.”

  “I see. And, why exactly are we here, Ted?”

  He looked at her through the dusk, perhaps for a moment too long because he thought he saw the first glimmer of understanding appear. She lunged for him, but he lunged first.

  “Ted! No!”

  He was halfway over the fence, one foot over the top bar when he felt her grab him. He howled and squirmed but she dragged him back onto firm ground. It was like an invisible tractor beam. He couldn’t feel her hands anywhere on him but somehow she had a grip–

  She had grabbed his backpack. Ted wriggled his shoulders free and lunged forward again before she had time to get a more secure hold on him. He vaulted over the fence with his name ringing his ears and landed with his feet just inches away from the edge of the pit. He gathered his strength for the final leap–

  –and found he couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. The ground thirty metres down seemed to ripple in front of his eyes. He screamed and waved his arms like windmills, hips and knees buckling in and out as he fought for his balance.

  “Ted! It’s okay!”

  It is SO NOT okay. Ted had his poise back. He gazed down the drop while his chest heaved and his legs felt as strong as a pair of over-boiled carrots. He couldn’t quite make himself move.

  “ARSE!”

  Nice one, Ted. Total failure. Can’t even do this simple thing …

  Don’t be too hard on yourself.

  Ted felt tears prick at his eyes. He had been so sure this was the way …

  Inspector Stewart had gone into proper police officer mode. She was keeping a steady few feet away, not coming too close, her voice calm and reasonable.

  “Ted. I don’t understand what just happened but we can talk about it. Just step away from the ledge–”

  “You don’t understand!” he wailed. “I’ve got to do this! That’s how I make it work!”

  Ted, you’re just delusional. Do what the nice lady says.

  Ted stared down into the darkness at the bottom of the pit again. He had always wondered why potential suicides on window ledges didn’t just get on with it. Now he knew. The instinct to keep your feet glued to the floor was just too strong.

  “Ted. Please, step away. Climb back over the fence. I’ll help you–”

  She made as if to hold out a hand to him, realised she was still holding his pack, dropped it. Anger spiked through his general misery.

  “Oi! That’s got my computer in it!”

  “Sorry.” She slowly leaned down, picked the bag up and set it against a fence post. “Ted, look. Here’s what we’ll do. We can tackle the King together. We’ll go to my superiors, right? I’ll do the basic report and you can fill them in on the details. We’ll work together, Ted. We’ll be a team–”

  What a great idea. Remember how you enjoyed this woman just treating you like an adult? You could spend so much more time with her. Go for it.

  Ted slowly stood straight, arms hanging limply at his side.

  “Yeah, a team,” he whispered. He took a step back. “I’d like that.”

  He saw relief flash over her face.

  “So would I, Ted. Now, just climb–”

  “Later,” he gasped, and before she or the voice in his head could say anything more he gathered his strength and courage and hurled himself off the edge of the pit.

  *

  For a glorious fraction of a second he thought it had worked. Salisbury glowed in front of his outstretched hand, like a toy that he could reach out and take.

  And then he was falling, and the wind blew hard in his hair and eyes and ears and the inspector’s screaming his name blended into his own howl of terror as he plummeted for the ground.

  This was what it had been like for the thief, he realised, falling from the height of the cathedral spire. There was plenty of time to think, to picture the full mass of the planet below smashing into you, shattering your bones, pounding waves of hydraulic shock through your tissues, snuffing out your life in an instant–

  Very clever.

  The wind died down. Ted felt himself tilt, feet down, head up. The ground was just floating up. His feet touched down so gently he didn’t even need to bend his legs.

  But he dropped to his knees all the same, with his fists balled and his head thrown back and he screamed:

  “YES!”

  His head dropped forward again and he stared down at his wonderfully intact, unsmashed body.

  “And don’t you dare disappear again,” he shouted. “I want to talk to you. If you hide again, I’ll just keep doing this and you’ll have to come out and stop me.”

  Wouldn’t be much point, would there?

  (From above: “Ted? Ted?”)

  “What are you?”

  (“Ted! Are you … Jesus Christ, are you … you just seemed to–”)

  Look, are you going to answer the lady?

  Ted pushed himself shakily to his feet and tottered forward. Then he twisted round and gazed up. The inspector’s face was a blur at the top of the cliff.

  “It worked!” he called.

  That’s right, rub it in.

  “I’m okay! Look, uh–” He pointed at the road beyond the pit. “Bring the car down to the main road. I’ll meet you there, okay? Unless,” he added quietly, “you’re just going to float me up again?”

  Now that would just be showing off. Let her come to you and we can use the time to have a conversation.

  Up above, the inspector seemed to move back and forth in indecision, before abruptly turning away from the pit and vanishing from view.

  “What are you?” Ted asked again. He began to trudge over the waste ground, towards the houses, past the BMX ramps. Every step was a thrill, a reminder that he was alive.

  You know what I am. I’m what’s left of the knowledge of the Ancients. I’ve been tucked away at the back of your head ever since the summer.

  “You weren’t talking to me back then.”

  Right, and I’m so glad to be doing it now. I wasn’t in any fit state to talk to you back then, was I? I was a tiny seed in your head, just enough to get you off the top of the spire.

  “Zoe said I’d forget you–” A cold flush and a shudder ran through Ted’s body. The last time he had seen the witc
h, he had been clutching a fragment of the Knowledge. He had let it go, which was just as well, because:

  “If you had not released it of your own free will, I would have wiped your mind.”

  And how would Her Witchiness react if she learnt there was now an unauthorised copy lurking inside him?

  And you did, didn’t you? Which suited me just fine while I grew.

  Another cold shudder as Ted remembered what else Zoe had had to say about the Knowledge.

  “You drove people mad–”

  Yeah, that was kind of self-limiting. Look, I can learn too. Just say I’ve been holding myself back. I’m a cluster of unused neurons at the back of a sixteen-year-old boy’s skull when I used to stretch the linked minds of the entire Council of Mages. It’s embarrassing.

  “I dunno. I still feel like I’m just talking to myself.”

  Dude, you are just talking to yourself. Keep up.

  “So you were just going to stay at the back of my head forever?

  Not forever, no. But for the time being I was just sitting back quietly and enjoying the ride. I like the sensory input of a human body. A good meal, a good night’s sleep, chocolate, your little morning ritual in the shower – and by the way, I’m looking forward to your having a bona fide sex life as much as you are–

  Ted flushed a bright, burning red.

  “I am so never doing that again!”

  Yeah, right. Anyway, going back to your question – you’re right, I wasn’t good for people and it got me locked up in nowhere-space. I did not want that to happen again. So, I was going to wait until you were older and wiser and then we could have a chat about how I can be perpetuated.

  “But then I fell off my bike,” Ted deduced.

  Well, quite. My minimum system requirements are a fully functioning brain and a body that can interact with the material world to a reasonable degree. Both those stood a pretty good chance of being impaired. You’re the one with the immortal soul: I’m just data. It happened too quickly for me to do what I did just now, so I had to do the next best thing and soften the ground where you landed. Which meant an injection of power into the ground, which awoke the King.

  “So it’s not my fault?” Ted said hopefully.