But finally the door on the past was closed, there was sudden, swift motion, and –
We’re home! said Harry . . .
8
Through the Gate
A fourth and final door was opened and Clarke felt himself urged through it. But the abrupt sensation of speed in motion had alarmed and shaken him, and as yet he hadn’t recovered.
Harry? he said, the thought trembling like a leaf in the immaterial void of the Mobius Continuum. ‘Harry?’
Except the second time it was his voice he heard, not just his thoughts. He stood with Harry Keogh in his office at E-Branch HQ, in London. Stood there for a moment, stumbled, and reeled!
The real, physical world – of gravity, light, all human sensation and especially sound, most definitely sound -impressed itself forcefully on Clarke’s unprepared person. It was signing-off time for most of the staff; many had already left, but the Duty Officer and a handful of others were still here. And of course the security system was in operation as always. Sleepers had started to go off all over the top-floor complex as soon as Clarke and Keogh appeared, quietly at first but gradually increasing in pitch and frequency until they would soon become unbearable. A monitor screen in the wall close to Clarke’s desk stuttered into life and printed up:
MR DARCY CLARKE IS NOT AVAILABLE AT PRESENT. THIS IS A SECURE AREA. PLEASE IDENTIFY YOURSELF IN YOUR NORMAL SPEAKING VOICE, OR LEAVE IMMEDIATELY. IF YOU FAIL TO –
But Clarke had already regained partial control of himself. ‘Darcy Clarke,’ he said. ‘I’m back.’ And in case the machine hadn’t recognized his shaky voice – not waiting for it to print up its cold mechanical threats – he staggered to his desk keyboard and punched in the current security override.
The screen cleared, printed up: DO NOT FORGET TO RE-SET BEFORE YOU LEAVE, and switched itself and the alarms off.
Clarke flopped into his chair – in time to give a great start as the intercom began to buzz insistently. He pressed the receive button and a breathless Duty Officer’s voice said. ‘Either there’s someone in there, or this is a malfunction . . . ?’ A second voice behind the first growled:
‘You’d better believe there’s somebody in there!’ One of the espers, obviously.
Harry Keogh pulled a wry face and nodded. ‘This place was no great loss,’ he said. ‘None at all!’
Clarke pressed the command button and held it down. ‘Clarke here,’ he said, talking to the entire HQ. ‘I’m back – and I’ve brought Harry with me. Or he’s brought me! But don’t all rush; I’ll see the Duty Officer, please, and that’ll be all for now.’ Then he looked at Harry. ‘Sorry, but you can’t just – well, arrive – in a place like this without people noticing.’
Harry smiled his understanding – but there was something of his strangeness in that smile, too. ‘Before they gang up on us,’ he said, ‘tell me: how long did you say it was since Jazz Simmons disappeared? I mean, when did David Chung first notice his absence?’
‘Three days ago in – ‘ Clarke glanced at his watch, ‘ – just six hours’ time. Around midnight. Why do you ask?’
Harry shrugged. ‘I have to have some place to start,’ he said. ‘And what was his address here in London?’
Clarke gave him the address, by which time the Duty Officer was knocking at the door. The door was locked and Clarke had the key. He got up, unsteadily crossed the room to let in a tall, gangling, nervous-looking man in a lightweight grey suit. The Duty Officer had a gun in his hand which he returned to its shoulder-holster as soon as he saw his boss standing there.
‘Fred,’ said Clarke, closing and locking the door against other curious faces where they peered along the corridor, ‘I don’t believe you’ve ever met Harry Keogh? Harry, this is Fred Madison. He – ‘ But here he noticed the look of astonishment on Madison’s face. ‘Fred?’ he said; and then they both looked back into the room. Which apart from themselves was quite empty!
Clarke took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his brow. And in the next moment Madison was steadying him where he suddenly slumped against the wall. Clarke looked slightly unwell. ‘I’m alright, it’s OK,’ he said, propping himself up. ‘As for Harry – ‘ he glanced again all around the office, shook his head.