Only the great metal moai moai remained. remained.

'Ranu Raraku,' Stockwood whispered, following the words up with a quiet murmur that even I could not hear. I think it was a prayer. My own thought was more sensible. 'We cannot stay here. We must either return to the island or go to the city.'

'We don't even know how we came here.'

'Then we have no choice. We must go to the city.'

'But how do we get there?' Stockwood's words came between breaths. I realised I was tired with the effort of breathing myself. 'We're so high up.'

I looked around, now gaining some idea of the shape of the place in which I had awoken. It was indeed shaped like a bowl - a vast, shallow bowl tilted at an angle. And the metal huts stuck straight out from the bowl. They too were at an angle, pointing at a distant quarter of the sky, beyond the looming bulk of the larger moon. I thought about the slope of that angle. I wondered if the ground was lower on the other side. I said as much to Stockwood.

'I don't see any reason why not.'

'Then we must start now It is a long way to the city.'

Stockwood agreed. We began to climb down through the forest of huts. We moved slowly and carefully. To fall here would be fatal. A broken limb would almost certainly mean abandonment and starvation.

As we moved I thought about Royston. Somehow we had to improvise a way of carrying him. Or one of us had to stay with him until he was able to move. Or we had to leave him here and hope he would be safe until we found help. I did not know how to answer these questions. There was nothing here we could make a stretcher out of and I did not know how long he would take to recover - or even if he would. I decided it would be best to think about these questions when we reached him again. But when we returned to the place where we had left Royston he was gone.

18.

The Cave of the White Virgins

After the Doctor was shot I remember thinking that I must go to help him. My mind was willing but my body had ideas of its own. While my mind invented fantasies about sneaking out from cover, grabbing a pistol from one of the fallen pirates and fighting off the rest before freeing the Doctor and the captured islanders, my body was thoroughly occupied crawling as fast as possible into a hole in the cliff face which I had found some yards from our hiding place.

The hole led downward at a sharp angle. It was full of twists and turns.

Head, down, I continued to crawl, whipping myself mentally for my cowardice. I did not even know if the Doctor was alive or dead. I had not even waited that long before retreating. Every stone which dug into my back, every breath of dirt reminded me of the man who might even now be lying bleeding on the rocks mere yards away.

I continued to crawl downward. I did not even bother to convince myself there was nothing I could do. That would have been too intellectual an argument. The simple fact was that I was terrified beyond rational thought - and princ.i.p.ally for my own life. Later I would feel better about that: at least I had learnt that I had not come to Rapa Nui to die. And even if I had, then I had now changed my mind. The thought of the Doctor lying on the rocks only served to reinforce the preciousness of my own life.

Alexander, James, Leela, now the Doctor. Nothing, I was ashamed to observe, appeared to have changed over the last thirty years.

I stopped at the sound of movement beneath me. An animal? There were none bar goats, pigs and fowl on the island. So who was it crawling up the narrow tunnel to meet me?

Peruvians? Natives?

On my previous expedition I had persuaded Tortorro to show me a portion of the cave system. It was vast, with many caves, some enlarged by the islanders for use in time of war, connected by several miles of volcanic pa.s.sages created when the island was born. I could not help reflecting that it was like a world in miniature, with cave cities connected by roads of lava tunnels. Like a world, the population would rise and fall, migrating from the surface to the tunnels and back again, with the exception of the young women kept down here to bleach their skins, and for whom the Cave of the White Virgins had been named.

I tried to tip my head upward, to get a better look further down the pa.s.sage. The task would have been useless even if there had been enough light to see by.

The sounds came closer.

And breathing.

The touch of a knife at my throat brought me to my senses. I tried to back away but the movement was too little too late. My body was frozen, as motionless as my mind was a jagged frieze of memories, locked in a similar pa.s.sage to that of thirty years before.

And then I realised: I was crawling down a bolt hole. We had seen no islanders because they were hiding from the Peruvian invaders. Now I was invading their retreat, crawling into their network of volcanic tunnels and caves. They thought I was one of the invaders!

I called out at once in the native Polynesian. There was a long moment of silence and then the knife was removed from my throat. The figure, of whom I could discern no details in the pa.s.sage, retreated quickly from me, inviting me by tugging on my arm to follow.

Soon afterwards I began to see the glimmer of light from further along the pa.s.sage. A moment later we had emerged into a large cave. A cave that, despite the thirty-year time lapse, I recognised.

The Cave of the White Virgins. My last stop before fleeing the island and leaving Alexander to his fate.

I stood, moaning aloud at cramp in my calves and a sharp pain which dug into my hip. I wondered whether the Peruvians, the islanders, Richards or arthritis would be my undoing the fastest.

I stretched, blinked, wiped dirt from my face and clothes. My hands came away from my face b.l.o.o.d.y from a number of scratches. I searched for a handkerchief but could not find it. I hesitated then, surprised at the effort it took, wiped my b.l.o.o.d.y hands on the breast of my jacket. Only then did I look around me.

The cave was lit by three torches. They guttered, sending a pall of smoke into the upper reaches of the cave. I wondered at the smoke, fearing it would find its way to the surface and be spotted by the Peruvians The islanders did not seem worried, though. Perhaps it exited at a point far from the bay. The cave was full of people. They seemed to represent the same racial mix we had been so surprised by on first arriving here so long ago. Some were short, others tall, in excess of six foot. Some had Polynesian characteristics, others seemed almost European, with pale skin and red hair. The mix of women and men was equal, and there were many children. All were silent, crouching like ghosts in the smoky gloom.

Only one islander moved - the one who had preceded me from the pa.s.sage. I perceived him to be a short fellow, brown-skinned and black-haired, naked except for what seemed to be an unbroken pattern of tattoos. His ears were of normal length, unlike those of others I could see in the cave. For his part the man was studying me as intently as I studied him - and with better reason, I should think. I represented the alien to his world - and so far the alien had brought only terror and death.

I ventured a few more words. The islanders showed neither surprise nor fear at my clumsy rendition of their language. But the man standing next to me tapped himself on the chest and uttered the word, 'Topeno', which I took to be his name.

In turn I introduced myself - as Horace rather than Stockwood, just in case.

I am not sure what I expected but I was certainly surprised when Topeno responded to my name by hunkering down in a darkened corner of the cave and proceeding to ignore me. With nothing else to do I sat as well. I made sure my movements were slow and non-threatening. n.o.body responded. Even the children displayed a lack of curiosity I found disturbing.

We sat in this manner for some time - perhaps an hour. During the time I tried twice to make conversation. n.o.body responded. Eventually I gave up. The silence was nerve-racking. And then the torches were extinguished. The sudden blackness was oppressive and frightening. I spent the next hours in a state of constant agitation, wondering whether Topeno would simply cut my throat in the darkness as I sat, unable to see to protect myself. In any event there was nothing I could do about it, so I had to endure it.

It was almost a relief when sounds of scrabbling hands and feet indicated another person approaching the cave. I wondered if it was the Doctor? I did not hear Topeno draw his dagger or move into the pa.s.sage, though I knew he must have. There was a long moment of silence, then a shriek and a familiar voice cried out. A moment later the torches were relit in time for me to witness two figures accompany Topeno into the cave by a pa.s.sage different from the one I had used. The figures were familiar. Jack Devitt, the ship's boy, and Jennifer Richards.

Even her face brought a sigh of pleasure to my lips, familiar as it was.

She stared at me contemptuously. 'Skulking like a coward in the darkness with savages, Horace? The boy here dealt more bravely with the Peruvians than you evidently have.'

Jack looked around nervously. I could see he was trying to hide his fear of the islanders. 'I done fer one of 'em with cook's carver, then the lady here an' me, we got ash.o.r.e and hid in some caves.'

I licked my lips. 'Did you see the Doctor?'

'I did. I see'd 'im taken on the man o' war by them pirates. He was shot.

Dunno if 'e was dead, though. S'pose not if they took 'im aboard. They got a load o' the islanders an all. Dunno 'ow many - more'n I can count. And the Cap'n and the rest o' the men. All locked in the black holds o' those devil ships, I shouldn't wonder, with who knows what mortal horrors.'

Jack was silent for a moment. I could see him struggling with fear. He won out long enough to ask, 'What you reckon they gonna do with us, lady?'

'Sell us all into slavery I shouldn't wonder, at least that for the men. As for myself... well, I've heard tales... Let's just say that the first pirate who comes near me will feel the shot of my pistol in his gut. For I'll not be taken by those devils, mark me, boy.'

We fell quiet, silent as the islanders, who were all watching us by now. The pa.s.sive curiosity they now displayed was as disturbing to me as their earlier indifference. I resolved to break the silence and, attracting Topeno's attention, bade him tell us what had transpired earlier upon the island. After consultation with a number of other men in the cave, Topeno told me a story I found all too believable.

The warships had arrived three days earlier. They had anch.o.r.ed in the bay. The islanders had swum and paddled out to meet the ship's crews, and had been delighted, when aboard, to be allowed to inscribe a few flourishes at the foot of a sheet of paper. Thereby they had signed a contract, I realised, to become slaves of the Peruvians. I imagined they were to be sold as labourers to the guano islands off the coast of Peru.

Meanwhile the islanders were allowed free run of the ships. But when they wanted to leave they were coshed, bound and taken below decks.

Several hours later four boats put ash.o.r.e with a pile of trade goods.

Brightly coloured blankets, tobacco, seeds, trinkets of all descriptions.

When several hundred more of the islanders came to examine these interesting things they, too, were attacked and captured. Now the Captain of the flotilla, a man named DaBraisse, but whom the islanders called the devil, issued instructions to the sailors, who came ash.o.r.e with pistols and rope. Many more islanders were captured, hands bound, and taken to the boats, while those who tried to swim or run to safety were fired upon. As the last of the boats was ready to put off, DaBraisse discovered two islanders hiding in a cave near the beach. When he could not persuade them to go with him he shot them down.

Thus began a small war which, according to Topeno, had so far lasted three days and cost the islanders no fewer than seven hundred of their number - men, women and children.

And now they were waiting. Waiting for the Peruvians to find them.

Waiting to fight, if necessary to die, to protect their families, their homes.

And now we were waiting with them.

19.

Lost Worlds

I came close to panicking when we found James was gone. Leela held me together, her voice practical and harsh as ever. Leela saw signs in the dust and used her tracking skills to determine what happened: James must have recovered sufficiently to move on his own. There was only the one track so it seemed obvious that no one spirited him away. It was just a matter of following the trail in the dust.

This we did and a few moments later were puzzled to see that it terminated at the blank metal wall of one of the huge monoliths that so curiously resembled the moai moai of Rapa Nui. of Rapa Nui.

Leela examined the wall. She was slow and cautious, but the moment her fingers brushed the surface something so strange happened that I can scarcely credit, let alone describe, it, for the truth is that what I saw defied all the comfortable laws of logic and science by which my life had previously been gauged.

The monolith became night.

Oh, I don't mean it turned black; I mean it became a three-dimensional, moai-shaped piece of night, standing impossibly four-square and real in the afternoon sun. Within the shape - for it had depth and perspective as if it were a three-dimensional window - I could see stars, a skyline, some vegetation, perhaps part of a city.

I walked around the piece of night. It was solid, rounded, and as I shifted position so my view through it shifted. I lost sight of Leela as I pa.s.sed behind the object and caught sight of her again as I returned to my original starting point.

'It's real.' I think there must have been amazement in my voice. I remember stammering, 'It's impossible.'

'If it were impossible it would not be here.' Leela observed succinctly.

'Obviously Royston entered here. We must follow.'

'Yes. Why, yes, of course. But how do we... ?'

Leela stepped up to the impossible piece of night. I realised her eyes were shut. She kept on walking and simply became part of the view I could see. I rushed to join her before I lost my nerve. I lost my footing as I pa.s.sed through the orifice and fell. When I regained my feet I felt heavier.

Gravity was different here. My mind tried to grasp the truth: we were on yet another world. The second since leaving the island.

I spared a glance behind me: a moai-shaped piece of day stood impossibly behind me. Other monoliths stretched away in loose groups to every horizon.

Leela was already moving away. I hurried to catch up, staring around me as I went. Another great city rose before us, this one seemingly more conventionally formed. The buildings were tall, beautifully sculpted.

Hovering platforms held what must once have been elegantly designed parks and gardens. The vegetation was now overgrown, spilling from the platforms and tethering them to each other and the ground in a three-dimensional maze which more resembled the artistic ramblings of Bosch than the creation of any city planner whose work I had witnessed. The garden platforms hovered even now, supported by machinery that had survived long after its creators had gone.

The sky above the city was dominated by two large moons, glowing ochre with reflected sunlight. Stars were splashed in a thick river across the heavens, so dense that their light rivalled that of the moons. The city was bathed in brown and silver. There were no other lights. No sign of movement. No sound. Just silence - the sound of growing things and the whisper of air. I realised this city was dead as well. As dead as the other we had seen.

As we followed Royston's trail closer to what had been the main centre of population, I began to smell something. Something rotten. I knew that here we would find bodies. Many bodies.

We stopped at the edge of a park drifting some yards beneath us.

Royston's trail stopped at the edge of this section of pavement. I frowned. 'Are the sections moving?'

'No.' Her voice held certainty. 'Maybe once but not now.' She thought for a moment. In the lower section of park we could see a group of nestling among the overgrown trees. 'I can see where the foliage has been broken.'

And then she stepped off the edge.

I rushed forward, expecting her to fall. She didn't. She drifted gracefully as if gliding down the banister of an invisible staircase, and alighted at the bottom giggling. 'It's fun!'

I joined her, taking a deep breath and stepping from the edge. I too drifted down. The sensation was... well, there was no sensation - it was just like walking, except that I was moving without walking.