The Mysterious Benedict Society and the Riddle of Ages, page 21
In the meantime, the KEEP was certainly imposing enough. And no doubt it would seem even more daunting when they were on the ground looking up at the buildings, rather than in the sky looking down on them.
“Well, it’s time for Tai and me to shove off,” Kate said, slapping her thighs and rising to her feet. “You all remember how to do the buckling, I know. Any questions?”
They shook their heads. Reynie and Sticky wished Kate and Tai luck, Constance made a face at Kate and gave Tai a hug (at his request), and Kate, with a devilish look on her face, opened her mouth to make a witty parting remark.
Everything went silent.
Kate frowned. Then she shrugged, put on her helmet, and proceeded to buckle Tai securely to her front as Tai, beaming, gave a thumbs-up to everyone on the plane. In his goggles he looked ridiculous and positively adorable. They could feel the plane slowing down. Kate opened the door, and the air pressure inside the plane changed, but no one heard a thing. She tossed out the duffel bag and let Tai watch until its parachute deployed. He turned to smile at everyone. He seemed not the least bit afraid.
Kate gave a quick wave and, with Tai’s feet on her feet, stepped out into the silent, windy darkness, clinging to the wing strut.
A few seconds later, they were gone.
The plane banked and began its circle.
Sticky and Constance buckled themselves together, checking and double-checking to be sure they had done it right. Then they gestured for Reynie to confirm as well, and had him turn around so that they could make sure his own parachute was in proper order. Which, of course, it was. They all knew that everything was in order, but in the absence of Kate’s natural confidence, it was rather easier to worry about something going wrong.
Soon they had come around again. Number Two was signaling from the cockpit, holding up two fingers to indicate two minutes. Then one finger for one minute. Sticky gave Reynie a “wish me luck” look and put on his goggles. He and Constance shuffled to the door, moving in lockstep. Number Two slowed the plane down again. Reynie had a terrible, irrational feeling that he was about to see his friends make some grave error. He could barely stand to watch.
Slowly, smoothly, moving in unison, Sticky and Constance made their way out onto the step. Reynie saw Sticky nod, as if Constance had just spoken to him, and suddenly realized that she had spoken to him. Of course, they were communicating telepathically! In complete silence, they were coordinating their every movement. They were actually graceful.
Sticky nodded again and then, as casually as if they were flopping into a swimming pool, the two of them fell away into the darkness. Reynie tried to look after them, but the night had swallowed them up. He felt the plane accelerate and begin its turn. He took a few deep breaths, put on his goggles, and waited for the sign from Number Two. Before long she was holding up two fingers. Then one finger. Then she placed a hand over her heart and nodded at him. Reynie returned the gesture and went to the door.
The plane slowed, and when Reynie stepped through the door he found that the wind was not as strong as he had feared. Kate had told him what to expect, but it was a relief nonetheless. He had to move carefully, but he had no trouble maintaining his footing and his grip. Out onto the step he went, holding on to the wing strut. He looked down. The plane was still over water, but his momentum would carry him forward, and he would be over the shore when he pulled the rip cord. He couldn’t wait any longer or he would end up in the hills.
Reynie jumped. He arched his back exactly as Kate had taught him, and he fell through the night sky. He extended his arms and legs. The wind resistance was powerful now, and suddenly it was loud, too, roaring in his ears, so loud that it startled him despite Kate’s warnings. The hills of the island seemed to be swelling before his eyes. He realized that he was quite frightened.
Fortunately, the practice sessions kicked in. He was following the routine that Kate had drilled into them. Reynie checked his altimeter, then checked it again. His trembling hand found the rip cord, and at precisely the agreed-upon altitude, he deployed his parachute. The effect was like being yanked upward by a giant hand. Reynie felt his stomach swoop. Then he was floating, drifting in a sudden silence—a silence so profound in its contrast to the roaring of the wind moments before that it was as if someone had activated a Husher.
He began to calm down. Now he could hear the creaking of the parachute lines, the rustling of the nylon canopy as he shifted about, trying to spot the others on the shore far below. He could hear the harbor waters surging against rocks. Now he saw a blinking light—Kate’s flashlight, signaling him—and after locating the two control toggles, Reynie did his best to guide the parachute in that direction. It was a simple system, and he seemed to be sufficiently on course, enough so that his relief grew deeper—until a gust of wind began to pull him seaward.
He gave a cry of surprise and pulled hard on the toggles. The wind subsided, and now he was getting closer to shore, close enough to make out the indistinct figures of the others looking up at him. Another gust of wind pulled at him, though, and he felt himself lurch backward. Reynie was overcome by a horrible dread. There seemed to be a real possibility that he might end up in cold, deep water, struggling in the darkness, far from shore.
Constance’s voice entered Reynie’s head. You’re in danger. Kate wants to know if you trust her with the grappling hook.
Reynie didn’t hesitate. Yes, yes, yes!
The wind died down again, and again Reynie tried to steer himself—indeed to will himself—to shore. Closer and closer, lower and lower he drifted. There came another gust of wind, but this time Reynie heard a twang sound below him. He closed his eyes, bracing himself. He had the briefest moment to wonder how badly it would hurt to be struck by the grappling hook, before he heard something whistle over his head. He opened his eyes and saw the cable, saw the grappling hook sliding down along one of the parachute lines. It came close enough for Reynie to grab it, and so he did, clinging to it as if it were the hand of a dear loved one.
Kate’s going to guide you in, came Constance’s voice in his head.
That would be great. Please tell her thank you.
You look ridiculous. You’re like a human kite.
Good to know.
Moments later Reynie was standing with the others on the shore. Tai was jumping up and down and asking Reynie if he’d ever had more fun. He certainly hadn’t himself, he said, and he said a great many other things, too, but Reynie could scarcely concentrate as Kate helped him out of the parachute.
“Yeah, that was a bit of an ugly breeze there, wasn’t it?” Kate said to him. “The rest of us had trouble, too, but we weighed more, and it wasn’t blowing as badly until you came down. Were you scared?”
“Of course not,” Reynie said, fumbling at his goggles with trembling fingers.
Kate laughed and pulled them off for him. “That’s the spirit,” she said. She took Sticky’s backpack from the duffel bag and gave it to him, then handed her bucket to Tai, who was clamoring for it.
As the others dragged their parachutes to a spot where they could be hidden among rocks and untouched at high tide, Kate carefully repacked her own and shoved it into the duffel bag. She removed her flight suit and packed it away, as well. She ran through her quick routine, checking her pockets and her utility belt. At last she felt she was ready.
“Sorry it took me so long,” Kate said when she and Tai rejoined the others. “I had to get myself squared away.”
“What are you talking about?” Sticky replied. “We’ve only just finished hiding the parachutes.”
“Well, that’s great,” Kate said, casting a skeptical eye over the heaps of nylon and cords crammed into a little alcove of rock and sand. She quashed the urge to straighten it all out right then. “And you’ve done a fine job, too. Everyone ready?”
Tai temporarily surrendered the bucket in order to ride on Kate’s back—Kate deftly secured the bucket with her belt—and with Sticky wearing his backpack and Reynie carrying the duffel bag (no one even attempted to suggest that Constance carry something), the little group set out for the KEEP. It was to be a short hike, mostly sticking to the low ground between the hills, moving over sand and gravel and through the occasional copse of stunted cedar trees. Before long they were in an area that looked familiar to Reynie, who had once trekked through the hills on this part of the island. It had been dark then, too, and misty, and he’d been afraid that he was about to be in severe trouble. Now, as then, his heart was beating hard. He was certainly afraid. But it was different this time. He’d been here before. He knew what he and his friends were capable of together. Yes, he was having to make a real effort to shore up his confidence, but at least the confidence was there.
Why do you keep thinking that? Constance asked him. They had come upon an old, faded path and were making their way up a hill. From the top, they knew, they would be able to see the KEEP.
Thinking what? Reynie asked, although he knew the answer and was hastily burying his thoughts under a heap of distractions.
You keep reminding yourself that when things seem at their worst, that’s when you’ll know we’ve won.
Just trying to keep my confidence up.
That’s a weird way of doing it. What does it mean, anyway?
Constance, you’re not supposed to be reading my mind.
Well, quit shouting, then. It’s not exactly helping my confidence for you to keep concentrating so hard on yours.
Sorry, I’ll do better.
I’m still mad at you, by the way.
Reynie sighed.
They reached the top of the hill. There, across a shallow valley to the northwest, loomed the KEEP. It was surrounded by hills, but their own hill was of a higher elevation, and their vantage point offered a decent sight line. They could see parts of the familiar stone buildings, as well as the familiar front plaza—all brightly lit from the outside. Nothing stirred. Beyond the buildings the bridge stretched across the dark water, lit along the sides like an airport runway at night.
Kate reached up over her shoulder to hand Tai her mini-binoculars. Eagerly looking through them, he whispered, “Couldn’t the Ten Men just use the bridge? Why do you think they’d have to use the Salamander?”
Kate helped him aim the binoculars. “Do you see that gate at the far end? Well, it’s very heavy-duty, and most people couldn’t get past it.”
“The Ten Men could, though, right?”
“With their laser pointers and exploding calculators, yes. But they have a limited supply of those right now, and of course that would also set off a lot of alarms, which they wouldn’t care to do. But on top of that, there’s a special security system on the bridge now. Everybody knows about it—it was in all the papers. If anybody breaks through that gate or tries to climb around it or get across in any other way they’re not supposed to, the whole bridge is rigged to sink into the water.”
“Wow,” Tai breathed.
“Yes, and see that guardhouse? It’s automated now. The codes change every day, and they’re set remotely, by people far away. The Listener can’t just read a guard’s mind and get the code. So the bridge is completely off-limits. McCracken is too smart to try it.”
“That’s good,” Tai whispered. “Because I like the bridge. It’s pretty.”
“It really is, isn’t it?”
The time had come for Sticky to take the lead. He pointed toward the nearest hill behind the KEEP, directly opposite them across the shallow valley. “We aren’t going all the way to the buildings,” he said. “We’re heading to a spot at the base of that last hill, one hundred thirty meters southwest of the building that used to be our dormitory. There’s supposed to be an entrance there.”
“That’s drapeweed territory,” Constance said.
“You mean the traps?” Tai whispered. “The pits all covered up with drapeweed—like the one George almost fell into?”
Kate hitched Tai higher on her back. “Don’t worry—they’re easy to spot. We’ll just keep well away from any part of the ground that’s covered in vines.”
But when they had descended the hill, a surprise awaited them. The entire terrain before them was completely covered in vines.
“Oh boy,” Sticky muttered. “I should have thought of this. The drapeweed’s had years to spread.”
“That’s, um, not good,” said Constance.
Sticky wiped his brow. “I know what the line of approach is supposed to be. We just have to follow it exactly. I’ll go first, and the rest of you walk in single file behind me.” Consulting the schematics in his mind, he took a few steps to the left, swallowed hard, and prepared to walk.
“One sec,” Kate said, looping a cord around Sticky’s waist and connecting it to her belt. “Last time you fell through, we weren’t prepared,” she said. “What is it they say about learning from experience?”
Sticky looked over his shoulder at her. “That we’re supposed to? I don’t recall a specific saying, though there are related aphorisms in just about every language.”
“That’s all I meant,” Kate said with a chuckle. “Okay, we’re all set.”
Sticky found it a tricky business crossing the vine-covered ground. He would have preferred to shuffle his feet—the better to sense whether the ground abruptly fell away beneath the vines—but because the drapeweed caught at his ankles, shuffling was impossible. With every step he had to lift his foot high, sometimes straining against entangled vines, which made it difficult to keep his balance. And every time his foot came down, often awkwardly and with greater force than he would have wished, he half expected to keep plunging forward, down through the vines and into a trap.
It made for a most uncomfortable journey, yet Sticky was not afraid in the way he might once have been. He trusted Mr. Benedict’s schematics, and he trusted his own ability to follow them. Moreover, if somehow he did make a mistake, he trusted Kate to keep him safe. No, he wasn’t worried for life or limb. He simply felt uneasy, as anyone might, at the prospect of falling unexpectedly into a hole.
“A few more steps and we’re at a hundred thirty meters,” Kate said. They could no longer see the dormitories, for the final hill, the bottom half of which was also covered in drapeweed, rose up directly before them. It was so steep as to be almost vertical, and it obscured all of the KEEP from view. But Kate had fixed the spot in her mind from the top of the last hill, and no one doubted it.
“Makes sense,” Sticky said, taking his last step. He now stood inches from a veritable wall of drapeweed.
“Now what?” Constance said. “All I see is vines.”
“I suspect the traps aren’t the only things the vines have covered over the years,” Reynie suggested from the back of the line.
“That’s what I was thinking,” Sticky said. He reached through the curtain of drapeweed before him. Sure enough, his fingers touched not rocky earth but metal.
With all of them working quickly, the space was soon cleared of vines to reveal a heavy grate set into the hillside.
“Let me get that,” Kate said. With a tool in each hand and startling quickness, she removed several screws and bolts, then took hold of the grate and pulled. It came free with a sucking sound. Briefly staggering under its weight, she leaned it against the hill and poked her head through the empty space where it had been.
Kate found herself looking down through a short vertical tunnel—an open duct with no bottom grate—below which was an astonishing vastness of space. Far, far below, an unseen light source revealed part of an empty concrete floor. It was like looking down at a sidewalk from the roof of a tall skyscraper.
“Wow, okay,” Kate said. “Looks to me like this was some kind of heat exhaust vent. But I don’t think we’re going to be crawling through it. You should all have a peek. Here, Tai, I’ll lift you up.”
Tai wasn’t the only one who gasped when he saw what Kate had seen. Reynie and Constance were equally taken aback. Sticky, for his part, felt a little queasy imagining a fall to that distant floor, but he wasn’t surprised.
“I knew we’d be standing above an incredibly big space,” he said. “You can’t see it all because of the duct, but it’s like an enormous stadium down there. My guess is there was a naturally existing cavern that Mr. Curtain converted to use as an assembly area for his Sweepers.”
“The brainsweeping machines!” Tai whispered.
“That’s right,” Sticky said. “When we were secret agents here, we saw a huge warehouse full of them—”
“Memory Terminal,” Constance interjected.
“—but we never saw where they were built,” Sticky continued. “It only makes sense that Mr. Curtain would have had his own secret assembly plant here on the island. He was all about control.”
“This is so weird,” Kate said. “It’s like being backstage at a play we all saw together a long time ago. But does Mr. Benedict really think we can get in this way? I rather doubt it.”
“It is confusing,” Sticky agreed. “I expected some kind of security door with a long passage behind it. There should be an elevator a little distance along the passage—well, but that doesn’t matter, because we don’t need to go down. Our next step is a control room on the same level as the passage.”
“If the passage even exists,” Constance said. “This doesn’t make sense. Why would Dad give us all that information but get this business about the door wrong?”
Everyone looked at Reynie, who was rocking on his toes and heels, resisting an urge to pace. (Pacing did not seem exactly wise when there might be drapeweed traps about.) “Right,” he said. “My guess is Mr. Benedict was being tricky on purpose. Isn’t he always? Either his security contract didn’t allow him to reveal the specific location of an entrance, or else he just wanted to make it harder for anyone but us. He knows we’ll think this through.”
Everyone nodded. Everyone continued looking at Reynie.
“Um, so, okay,” he said. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the gold key led us exactly to this exhaust vent. He wanted us to know that it’s here. So it may be useful. But if everything else is correct except the location of the door—”
