Читать книгу The Tower: Part Four - Simon Toyne, Simon Toyne - Страница 16

Gabriel was wheeled into the Abbot’s private quarters at the head of a procession of equipment and medical personnel. The rooms had been left largely unused since the Abbot’s sudden death and the subsequent spread of the blight. Elections had been planned but the disease had ravaged the electorate before they could be held and since then, in a dark twist of irony, the only thing truly running the mountain was the very thing that had derailed the electoral process in the first place.

‘This is the main living room and office,’ Athanasius said, moving across the large space. ‘There is also a bed chamber through here that could be turned into a laboratory.’ He opened a thick, metal-studded door onto another cave containing a wooden bed, an ottoman and several smaller pieces of furniture. ‘And in here is a washroom giving you all the running water you should need.’

Gabriel surveyed what he could of the new surroundings from the fixed viewpoint of his bed while everyone else started to unpack. His mattress had been raised at one end to render him upright and the bindings that had held him so tightly and for so long had now been loosened, but not removed. Dr Kaplan had advised that they stay in place for the time being until they were sure he wasn’t going to suffer a relapse. He wasn’t allowed to walk either, which was fine with Gabriel. He was so weak that even keeping his eyes open was an effort.

He took in the room, this comfortable prison that would be his home for who knew how long. There was a huge fireplace as tall as a man that dominated one wall and a stained-glass window set into the rock, its ancient, hand-blown panes of blue and green glass forming a peacock motif that distorted the world beyond.

‘How are you feeling?’ Athanasius pulled a chair over and sat down as behind him the room began to be shifted around and dismantled.

‘Like a condemned man.’

Athanasius smiled and ran his hand over the smooth dome of his head. ‘I think we all feel that way to some degree, though I know you have suffered more than most.’ He leaned in closer and lowered his voice so only Gabriel could hear. ‘I sometimes wonder whether all this could have been averted – that if we had just left things as they were, left the Sacrament in place and not challenged the old traditions, all this pain and suffering, all this death would not have come to pass.’

‘You really think that?’

‘I have considered it. One does what one thinks is right, but sometimes we do the wrong thing for the right reasons.’

Gabriel closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the bed. He had been plagued with similar thoughts. He had lost so much as a result of the sequence of events he had helped set in motion. ‘Setting the Sacrament free was the only right thing to do,’ he said.

‘So you are happy with the apparent consequences of our actions?’

He shook his head, ‘Of course not. I feel personally responsible for every single person who has died from this blight or is still suffering now. I feel guilty that I may have helped spread it beyond these walls by leaving here, guilty that my mother is dead and my father too, but most of all I feel guilty that I abandoned Liv and left her alone in the desert. I was forced to, I was infected. I left her for all the right reasons, but it did not bring me happiness. And despite all of that I would rather never see her again than risk harming her.’

Athanasius nodded. ‘I just wish, when I see how you have suffered, that I could do more myself.’

‘Maybe you can. When I last came here I was searching for something.’

‘The Starmap.’

Gabriel nodded. ‘I thought it was the only thing that could lead us to Eden in order that the Sacrament could finally be returned to its rightful place. But in the end we found it another way – and we discovered the Starmap was already there. It had directions carved into it that used the stars as a guide. But it had something else carved on the reverse, another part of the prophecy.’

‘And what did it say?’

‘I don’t know. It was written in a language I didn’t recognize. But from what we already know doesn’t it strike you that everything that has happened was predicted – Brother Samuel climbing to the top of the Citadel and making the sign of the Tau with his body; the release of the Sacrament and its restoration to its original home. It was outlined in a series of prophecies, first in the Heretic Bible and then on the Starmap. When we first started looking for it we only had my grandfather’s notebook to go on and a photograph my father had sent him. But the photograph only showed one side of the stone. When I found it and saw it for myself I realized there was much more on the other side. If we could read it now, in the light of all that has happened, we might discover that all of this was predicted too. We might even learn how it could end or what we might do to influence it. There must be more experts in ancient languages here in the Citadel than anywhere else in the world. If the stone can be deciphered anywhere, it’s here.’

‘There are, or at least there were. Many of the scholars have succumbed to the blight, though there are still a few remaining. I myself have studied many of the lost languages. If the text on the stone is written in one I am familiar with then it should be easy to translate. But how could we get to see it?’

Gabriel smiled. ‘I took photographs and sent copies to a police inspector in Ruin.’

Athanasius sat up in his chair, his eyes alive. ‘Give me his name and I shall send a message immediately.’

‘His name is Arkadian. And if you find me a cell phone I can call him and get him to message us a copy right away.’

Athanasius frowned. ‘All communications devices are forbidden inside the mountain.’

‘So are civilians, and yet here I am. I’m sure one of the medics will have brought a phone along with them.’

Athanasius shook his head. ‘It was a condition of granting access to the sick that those admitted must abide by the rules of the mountain. Everyone had to surrender their phones before entering. You will not find one in here.’

Gabriel went quiet, his mind thinking his way around the problem.

‘What about the phone I gave you when I was last here?’

‘It no longer works, the battery is empty and you did not leave a charger – although …’ He glanced across the room at a small writing desk positioned beneath the peacock window. He rose and moved towards it, weaving between the medical staff and the stacks of equipment they were setting up. Gabriel watched until his view was blocked by a man in a contamination suit. ‘You OK?’ Dr Kaplan asked in a bedside voice that instantly made Gabriel feel nervous.

‘Just peachy,’ he replied, catching a glimpse of Athanasius over the doctor’s shoulder as he opened the desk and retrieved something from inside.

‘We’re nearly ready to start the first bank of tests.’ Kaplan stepped across and blocked his view again. ‘Which means we’re going to have to take a little blood, I’m afraid. Normally when someone has been through what you have, I would be very reluctant to take more than a few millilitres at a time to give the white cells time to recover. But the more we take now, the more parallel tests we can run and the quicker we can process the results, so I’m inclined to be slightly more aggressive – if you are willing.’

Gabriel took a deep breath. ‘Help yourself,’ he replied. ‘I’m not going anywhere, just try not to kill me.’

Kaplan smiled and nodded at a medic who stepped forward and fitted a syringe to the cannula already sticking out of Gabriel’s arm. He twisted the valve and watched dark, wine-coloured fluid fill the first of several blood-collection tubes. ‘This might make you feel a little drowsy,’ Kaplan added, ‘so feel free to close your eyes and rest if you want.’

Gabriel did as he was told and tried to relax.

‘What about this, would this work?’

He opened his eyes and saw Athanasius standing over him holding a laptop in his hand with a charger dangling from it. ‘Maybe. Can you send email from it?’

‘No. But I thought maybe this charger could be adapted to work with the phone.’ He placed the laptop on the bed, the charger coiled on top of it in a tangle. Gabriel unplugged the lead and examined the jack. It was entirely different from the socket on the bottom of the phone he had left. Next, he opened the laptop. It was a relatively new model and started up quickly, the desktop filling with hardly any icons. He searched the main directory for wi-fi hardware and software or anything that could send a message or an email.

Nothing.

Athanasius was right.

He glanced at the battery status and saw it was full, so at least the charger was working. But even if he managed somehow to customize the connectors to fit, the ampage would be too strong and would most likely fry the phone. Then something struck him. He span the computer round and smiled when he spotted the USB port. ‘We can use the laptop to charge the phone,’ he said, pointing at the square socket. ‘We can plug in the laptop and then hardwire the phone to the computer through one of these ports. It will act as a transformer and send a weaker trickle charge to the phone’s battery.’

‘Can you do it?’

‘Yes.’ Gabriel leaned back against the pillow. ‘But I’ll need some tools and both my hands.’ He could feel what little energy he had leaking out of him with every drop of blood. ‘I’ll need some raw wire, something like needle-nosed pliers –’ He closed his eyes and instantly regretted it as the room started to spin. ‘Hey,’ he said, glancing over at the medic by the bed who was still diligently taking his blood. ‘I think you should …’

Heat rose up in him like steam in a geyser, so sudden that it overwhelmed him before he could even finish his sentence. His body started to shake and he felt urgent hands clamp down on him and pin him to the bed.

‘Sweet Jesus,’ he thought as his eyes rolled back in his head and darkness washed over him. ‘Not again.’