The Anomaly(57)

But stranger still was the fact that two-thirds of the surface was now covered in some kind of algae. It was predominantly green, iridescent, like the back of a fly or pool of gasoline seen in low light, shot with blues and dark purples.

I took the light and lowered it down near the surface. The algae was a quarter of an inch thick in places. The water also had tiny motes within it, sparkling in the light.

Then, raising the lamp, I spotted something a long way into the pool, down on the bottom. One of the metal balls.

“And what the fuck is that doing there?”

I held the light up and out as far as I could, moving my arm in a slow semicircle. On the right-hand side, a little farther from us, I caught sight of another of the balls.

“This morning,” Ken said. “Pierre. Didn’t he say he’d woken in the night—thought he’d heard something?”

“Yeah. Some thuds. But how?”

“Those things were up on pedestals, those cubes. Like the huge stone ball in the main room. We’ve seen how that could drop, and what happens afterward. And there was kind of a slope on that platform down the other end, wasn’t there?”

“Yep.”

“So the cubes were lowered, and now all the balls are in the water.”

“I assume. I’m disinclined to go check. I think you were right earlier—that itching was because Molly and I were in here last night. And whatever is now growing in there, we got some of it on our skin.”

“Still itching?”

“No.”

“Could you have touched something down at the end when the two of you were here, stood on something to trigger this?”

“I don’t think so. Nothing that I’m aware of, anyway. We looked at the spheres, and that thing in the middle. But the water was already clouding. So I’m thinking the process had started before Moll and I even got in the water. Maybe when you, me, and Gemma found it in the afternoon.”

“What process?”

I shook my head. There was no point in continually repeating that I didn’t have an answer.

“Something’s happening here, Nolan. And not only this. Do you really think we happened to come along a different path in that room that stinks? Or could it be that the black crap on the floor is melting, loosening up?”

“But how would that work? It’s not like it’s getting warmer. It’s pretty cold in here.”

“I don’t know. But if I lift the hood of the Kenmobile and look at what’s inside I don’t know how any of that mechanical crap occurs, either. I don’t have a clue how my phone works. Shit still happens on it. Endlessly.”

“We need to stop doing stuff,” I said. “Stop exploring, stop touching things. Something’s happening. Something that wasn’t happening before we got here. We need to stop making it worse.”

“I think it’s too late, mate.”

“I hope you’re wrong.”

“For once, me too.”

We took a last look out over the pool and then walked back to the main room. When we got there everyone was standing together in the middle.

Molly turned when she heard us coming. “Gemma’s found something,” she said. “It’s…a little weird.”





Chapter

34



Gemma was holding a phone. A white iPhone in a teal case, to be precise. I recognized it.

“So,” she said. She sounded tired but fired up. “We went down the passage to the big ball and shouted. No response, still. So we came back in here and Molly was talking about how your lamp had run out. And it struck us maybe we should try to get a sense of exactly how much light we have left.”

“Good idea. And?”

“We’ve got a lanyard and another of the small lights still working. One of the bigger ones. Only one headlamp, and it’s really dim.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes. And there’s no way of telling how much juice is left in any of the batteries. Could be a couple hours, could be ten minutes. There’s the more powerful light on the camera, too, and Pierre reckons he’s got like maybe two hours of batteries for that. Which is cool. But we’re being thorough, so we decide to check how much power is left on everybody’s phone, too. Which is…not much, unfortunately.”

“Okay. But…”

“Then I remembered that we’ve actually got another phone here, if we need it. Feather’s. I took it out of her backpack.” She handed the iPhone to me. “Take a look.”

“Isn’t there a pass code?”

“Well, yeah. It’s 6115.”

“And you know that…how?”

“I’m observant. It’s my job. Just look at it.”

I pressed the button. A scant home screen of standard apps, arranged in no evident order. “Okay, so?”

“Notice anything?”

“Not many apps.”

“Right. In fact, just the ones that come preinstalled on the phone. She hasn’t added anything. Not even Facebook.”

“Not everybody’s on Facebook, Gemma.”

“But over a billion people are. Especially women. And Feather? She’s totally the type. She’s going to be all over liking pictures of her friends’ spawn and wishing people love and light on a daily basis. Trust me.”