man asked.
‘ Sure, it’s like a capital ‘e’, but with the horizontal strokes going both ways, like it has a mirror image.’ Castro could almost hear the man shaking his head.
‘ No, Mr Castro, I am not familiar with this symbol. I’m sorry, I can’t help.’
‘ Okay,’ Castro said, ‘thanks all the same.’
The priest wished Castro well and hung up.
Castro felt numb. He stood and walked over to the window, almost in a daze. He parted the net curtain and peered out. The white clouds had thinned and the afternoon was growing brighter and hotter. The cars and trucks were racing along the freeway beyond the parking lot.
Suddenly, a feeling of claustrophobia took hold of him. He didn’t want to be here anymore. Letting the curtain fall again, he came away from the window, stuffed his few belongings into his bag, tucked the precious book under his arm and grabbed the laptop. He headed for the motel lobby.
Chapter 5
Matt woke with a start. The roar of the plane’s engine throbbed through him. The sound was almost deafening. Next to him sat Clara, leafing through some papers, a penlight picking out the lines of text in the darkness. Up front, Gerry was flying, Henric navigating.
The Cessna had taken off from an airfield close to the farmhouse, rising quickly above the orange network of roads spreading out to the horizon. Within ten minutes, they’d been crossing the coast.
Before leaving the farm, Henric had taken Matt’s laptop, hooked it up to a portable electricity supply and made two copies of the hard drive. One of the disks he’d wrapped in plastic, taping it securely closed. Then he’d disappeared for ten minutes with a spade. Another copy they’d stuck in an envelope. This they posted at a lonely village post box during the half-hour drive to the deserted airfield.
Matt looked out the window of the tiny aircraft. They were low, gliding over a vast expanse of open, flat land. In the dim light, he could only just make out the boundaries of fields and roads. Gerry throttled down and they lurched sickeningly toward the ground.
‘ Where are we?’ Matt asked, but no one answered. Clara gave him a smile and began putting the papers into her bag, popping the penlight between her teeth. The two men hadn’t heard him.
They banked sharply to the left and the engine noise reduced to a faint purr as they floated lower. Matt grabbed the back of the chair in front and pulled himself up to look out the front of the cockpit. He could see nothing. Not even the lights of a runway. Just then, the plane levelled out and immediately hit the ground with a noisy jolt. The engine whined into reverse and the plane rumbled across the grass to a walking pace. On the far side of the field, Matt saw a large tin-roofed building bathed in orange light. They headed slowly toward it.
Gerry whipped off his headset and turned to those in the back. ‘It’ll take about twenty minutes to refuel,’ he said. ‘I’ll do the talking.’
Outside it was chilly. Not like the warm night they’d left behind. Matt immediately smelt something intangible in the air, some odour faintly recognisable but foreign.
Gerry was talking to a man outside the airfield’s hangar. The man disappeared, returning within a few minutes with a small fuel truck. He manoeuvred it toward the plane.
‘ Come,’ Clara said and led Matt off.
Walking across the stained apron toward a small wooden shack, they came and sat on a low wall surrounding a pool of heavy oil. The night was clear, the constellations spanning above them. The northeast horizon was rapidly lightening. Matt looked across the fields to the distant line of bordering trees. The airfield was large and isolated. Beyond its perimeter, he could see the ochre glow of a nearby town beaming toward the sky.
‘ You wanted to know what this is all about,’ Clara said.
‘ Sure,’ Matt replied.
He’d dropped off to sleep soon after leaving England. He was
‘ Sure, it’s like a capital ‘e’, but with the horizontal strokes going both ways, like it has a mirror image.’ Castro could almost hear the man shaking his head.
‘ No, Mr Castro, I am not familiar with this symbol. I’m sorry, I can’t help.’
‘ Okay,’ Castro said, ‘thanks all the same.’
The priest wished Castro well and hung up.
Castro felt numb. He stood and walked over to the window, almost in a daze. He parted the net curtain and peered out. The white clouds had thinned and the afternoon was growing brighter and hotter. The cars and trucks were racing along the freeway beyond the parking lot.
Suddenly, a feeling of claustrophobia took hold of him. He didn’t want to be here anymore. Letting the curtain fall again, he came away from the window, stuffed his few belongings into his bag, tucked the precious book under his arm and grabbed the laptop. He headed for the motel lobby.
Chapter 5
Matt woke with a start. The roar of the plane’s engine throbbed through him. The sound was almost deafening. Next to him sat Clara, leafing through some papers, a penlight picking out the lines of text in the darkness. Up front, Gerry was flying, Henric navigating.
The Cessna had taken off from an airfield close to the farmhouse, rising quickly above the orange network of roads spreading out to the horizon. Within ten minutes, they’d been crossing the coast.
Before leaving the farm, Henric had taken Matt’s laptop, hooked it up to a portable electricity supply and made two copies of the hard drive. One of the disks he’d wrapped in plastic, taping it securely closed. Then he’d disappeared for ten minutes with a spade. Another copy they’d stuck in an envelope. This they posted at a lonely village post box during the half-hour drive to the deserted airfield.
Matt looked out the window of the tiny aircraft. They were low, gliding over a vast expanse of open, flat land. In the dim light, he could only just make out the boundaries of fields and roads. Gerry throttled down and they lurched sickeningly toward the ground.
‘ Where are we?’ Matt asked, but no one answered. Clara gave him a smile and began putting the papers into her bag, popping the penlight between her teeth. The two men hadn’t heard him.
They banked sharply to the left and the engine noise reduced to a faint purr as they floated lower. Matt grabbed the back of the chair in front and pulled himself up to look out the front of the cockpit. He could see nothing. Not even the lights of a runway. Just then, the plane levelled out and immediately hit the ground with a noisy jolt. The engine whined into reverse and the plane rumbled across the grass to a walking pace. On the far side of the field, Matt saw a large tin-roofed building bathed in orange light. They headed slowly toward it.
Gerry whipped off his headset and turned to those in the back. ‘It’ll take about twenty minutes to refuel,’ he said. ‘I’ll do the talking.’
Outside it was chilly. Not like the warm night they’d left behind. Matt immediately smelt something intangible in the air, some odour faintly recognisable but foreign.
Gerry was talking to a man outside the airfield’s hangar. The man disappeared, returning within a few minutes with a small fuel truck. He manoeuvred it toward the plane.
‘ Come,’ Clara said and led Matt off.
Walking across the stained apron toward a small wooden shack, they came and sat on a low wall surrounding a pool of heavy oil. The night was clear, the constellations spanning above them. The northeast horizon was rapidly lightening. Matt looked across the fields to the distant line of bordering trees. The airfield was large and isolated. Beyond its perimeter, he could see the ochre glow of a nearby town beaming toward the sky.
‘ You wanted to know what this is all about,’ Clara said.
‘ Sure,’ Matt replied.
He’d dropped off to sleep soon after leaving England. He was
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