Maria awoke screaming. For a few seconds she couldn’t remember where she was, couldn’t think of anything except the pains, one stabbing into her abdomen, just below her right breast, the other spreading slowly round into her lower back. Her eyes were stuck together as if she had been crying in her sleep. After a few seconds of panic she remembered the breathing exercise they had taught her in the antenatal clinic and began panting, her mouth wide open, forcing herself to relax. It’s just a contraction Maria, she told herself. Don’t worry. The panic subsided but fear replaced it. She couldn’t fool herself. It wasn’t just a contraction. Something was very wrong down there.
Still panting, still dopey with sleep, with her eyes still stuck shut, she tried to feel her bump. Her right arm wouldn’t move no matter how much she yanked. It was fixed down by her side. The panic came back and grew as she found her left arm also wouldn’t move. She forced her eyes open like oysters. Her head was shrouded in orange plastic. Through the aperture she saw a man’s chest close beside her, his body at right-angles to hers. She could not see his face. His head and shoulders were hidden by a shifting pattern of green, red and black patches. The instant she saw it she went cold. The coloured areas glowed so brightly they hurt her eyes and made her squint. I must be having some kind of migraine. After all the stress of this morning it’s not surprising. But at least she knew who he was and where she was.
‘What’s happening, Robert?’ Maria gasped, hardly able to speak from the pain. He did not answer. What’s wrong with him? She had never had any confidence in Robert Moore. ‘He’s very experienced,’ the chief firefighter George had said, peering down at her as she lay in the stretcher on the balcony high up on the ATLAS cavern wall. ‘He’s an ambulance man as well as a firefighter. He helped deliver a couple of babies in England before he came to CERN. I think they have babies the same way there as we do here so you’ll be in very safe hands. We’re going to attach a rope to the stretcher and winch you up through the shaft. You’re well strapped in so you’ll be perfectly safe.’ But when Robert climbed over the handrail he almost slipped into the cavern and as George let out his rope and they swung away from the balcony Robert had seemed confused. He didn’t speak French very well and couldn’t follow what they were saying on the radio. Now he wasn’t even answering her. She glanced up out of the stretcher. The strange, coloured pattern didn’t look like any migraine she had ever had before, but today was unlike any day she had ever lived through.
‘Robert,’ she called, louder than before. ‘What’s happening?’
# # # #
‘I can hear something, Lord.’
‘What?’ Sam could hear the excitement in Michael’s voice.
‘A woman screamed and then I think she said What’s happening, Robert? She was a bit muffled.’
‘Is it Maria Kissov? The pregnant woman with the broken ankle?’
‘I think so, yes.’
‘She’s no use to me. I want someone healthy. Isn’t there anyone else?’
‘I don’t know, Lord. I haven’t looked through all the crystals yet.’
‘Then look, Samuel, and for both our sakes be quick. They could arrive any second.’
It took Sam several minutes to look through every one of the sixty or so crystal walls that made up his cavern. As he did so he kept wondering what Michael meant: They could arrive any second.
# # # #
Robert still didn’t answer. Why can’t I see his face? A red harness was strapped around his grey uniform and clipped to a metal ring that supported the stretcher. Maria could see a rope, straight and taut, coming down through the pattern and descending to the ring. The rope from the shaft, she decided, and there was another rope running across from the ring, curving slightly, and going out through the side of the pattern. It had to be George’s rope. He had been using it to control their descent as they swung out from the balcony into the centre of the cavern. Four thick yellow straps were tied to the bottom of the ring and came down to the corners of the stretcher.
But that strange pattern cut across the top of Robert’s torso, at about shoulder level. She moved her eyes but still she could not see anything above his chest. Normally a migraine only affected one part of her vision. She should be able to see his face if she moved her eyes, but this time, no matter where she looked, she still could not see it. The pattern kept getting in the way. This is the strangest migraine I’ve ever had.
Another odd thing was how the whole pattern seemed to surround her, enclosing her, adding to her feeling of being trapped. It’s like being inside a bubble, she thought. Yes, that’s exactly what it’s like, a slowly changing, gigantic, glistening soap bubble. It enclosed the stretcher and most of Robert’s body, everything but his head and shoulders, hiding her view of the rest of the cavern.
The contraction grew stronger and pain encompassed her lower body. As it intensified, she tried to concentrate on the pattern, hoping that would help her to relax and take her mind off the pain. The green areas were the largest. They sprawled about like a child’s splash-daubed painting. Narrow red bands ran between the green, rippling and glowing with their own inner light. In sharp contrast, the heart of each green area was totally black. It’s quite beautiful really, she told herself, trying to make herself relax.
This certainly didn’t look anything like her usual optical effects from migraine. For one thing, it was not flickering. Instead, the green areas were moving slowly, the red bands parting to let them pass, then merging behind them. The red is like a river. A river of blood? No, she reassured herself, it’s not the right colour for blood; it’s more like red wine! The contraction began to fade as she tried to imagine the taste of it, a good strong Cabernet, and suddenly realised how thirsty she was. She started calling Robert again.
# # # #
‘No, Lord, I can’t see anyone else.’ Sam was bitterly disappointed. He had looked through every crystal and not seen Catriona, but at least Maria was alive.
‘Then it will have to be the Kissov woman. Is the firefighter Robert Moore still with her?’
‘Yes, she was calling him.’
‘Help her get out of the stretcher and see if she can revive Moore. He’s our best hope.’
‘Help her? How? I can’t even see her.’ All Sam had seen was a white sheet of plastic with metal rivets.
‘Talk to her. If you can hear her then she can probably hear you.’
Sam moved his head, trying to find again the crystal which contained the white plastic. He only heard Maria when he was looking straight at that. As he found it he heard Maria calling.
‘Can you hear me? Help, Robert!’ Maria sounded desperate.
‘I can hear you,’ Sam said.
‘Oh thank God. What’s happening? What was that blue flash? Why have–’
Sam moved his head to one side so he could not hear her. He hoped that she would not be able to hear him as he said ‘She thinks Robert’s talking to her, Lord.’
‘Is she still in the stretcher?’
‘I think so, yes.’
‘Try to get her out and revive Moore.’
‘Can you get out of the stretcher?’ Sam said into the centre of the crystal.
There was a pause. ‘Who’s there?’ Maria’s voice was not very clear but Sam thought she sounded frightened.
She knows I’m not Robert, Sam thought. ‘It’s all right, Maria.’
‘Who are you?’ Sam heard her very clearly this time. She was screaming.
‘She’s frightened, Lord. She wants to know who’s talking to her.’
Michael thought for a few moments. ‘Tell her you’re an angel who’s trying to help her.’
‘I can’t say that! Why can’t I just tell her the truth?’
A dark shadow crossed Michael’s face. ‘Do you know the truth? And if you did, is this the right time to explain it all to her? She needs urgent help and so do we. She was raised as a Roman Catholic. She’ll believe you. Tell her you are an angel. You can tell her the truth later, once we have saved the Earth.’
‘I am an angel,’ Sam said into the crystal, thinking she’s never going to believe this. ‘I’m trying to help you, Maria. Please trust me. You need my help and I need yours. Can you get out of the stretcher?’
There was a long pause. Then very slowly she said ‘Who are you?’
‘She doesn’t believe me, Lord. I’m going to have to tell her who I am.’
‘All right then do it. Tell her we need the crystal. Tell her it’s urgent.’
# # # #
It was a man’s voice, muffled and hard to hear. He was speaking English and at first she assumed it was Robert Moore. The firefighter hardly spoke any French. But when he said ‘I am an angel,’ she knew it wasn’t Robert.
‘It’s Sam Fitzpatrick, Maria,’ the voice said.
‘Mr Fitzpatrick?’ She lifted her head as much as she could and peered out of the aperture in the stretcher cover. All she could see was Robert’s chest and the bubble. ‘I can’t see you. Where are you?’
‘I don’t know, Maria. We were absorbed by the black hole and…’
Maria’s mind went numb. Ever since the LHC had started up people had been talking about making black holes. Every scientist was hoping they would make one and every crank was afraid they would. As an Official Guide it was her job to reassure visitors. She used to stand in the centre of the large round Globe of Innovation and repeat what she had been told to say. ‘Scientists believe there are two types of black hole. There are large ones formed by collapsing stars out in the Galaxy. They last a long time. And there are very small ones, such as we might make here in CERN, which will only last for a very short time, a tiny fraction of a second. They are so small and so short-lived that they would be perfectly safe.’ So it had been a complete shock this morning when Michael Zhang said they had created a persistent black hole that could last for hours.
‘…Zhang says we need the crystal,’ Sam was saying. ‘He says it’s urgent.’
‘Michael Zhang? Has he been absorbed too? This doesn’t make any sense. If you were absorbed by a black hole you would be killed.’
‘No, I know we should have been but we weren’t. Now listen, Michael says we need the–’
‘I need a doctor, Sam. Something’s wrong. I’ve got a terrible pain in my, in my…’ She couldn’t think of the English for abdomen. ‘…where the baby is.’
‘Is Robert still alive?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘He won’t answer.’
‘Can you get out of the stretcher?’
‘No, I’m strapped in. I can’t move my arms.’
‘You’ve got to get out, Maria. Try to get out. I can’t do anything to help you.’
‘I’ll try,’ she said. She twisted her head forward as far as she could, examining the orange flaps to see how they were fastened, and her eyes fell on something dark. A dark patch, where the cover reached over her bump. ‘Oh God!’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing.’ With an effort of will she put it out of her mind.
She looked at the stretcher cover again, keeping her eyes away from the stain. The two halves of the cover overlapped, buckled together on the outside. For several minutes she wriggled and strained, making room by breathing out, finally managing to push one hand through the gap, undo one buckle with straining fingers and free one arm. She reached up to touch Robert’s chest. ‘Robert?’ His chest wasn’t moving. She shuddered. He isn’t breathing! She slipped her hand under his harness but could feel no heartbeat. You’ve got to be alive, Robert! In desperation she slid her hand up his chest as far as she could. You’ve got to help me! Her fingers touched the bubble and she felt a hard surface then a sharp, tingling shock flashed through her finger-tips and she pulled her hand away.
Her eyes travelled across the pattern, more afraid than before, but she had the measure of it now and could see how it wrapped around her, or rather, around the baby. That’s where the middle of it seemed to be, although it was hard to judge with the pattern constantly shifting.
She poked Robert like an obstinate horse and shouted but he still didn’t move. All that effort to free my arm has got me nowhere.
‘Have you got out?’ Sam said.
‘I’ve got one arm out. Robert won’t move.’
‘Try to get out.’
With fresh determination she pushed the flap open a bit more, managed to yank her other arm out and reached forward, bending towards the other buckles. Excruciating pains shot through her abdomen and ankle. After trying several times she managed to open the plastic cover. Oh God! Her crumpled gaping jacket revealed a large mark, dark against her white blouse. In the light from the bubble it looked dark brown. It’s just a flesh wound, she told herself, struggling to calm the rising tide of fear. Looks worse than it is. She closed the jacket and tried to button it, to hide the stain, to seal it away. It’s not serious. The pain isn’t too bad, not really. I’d be in agony if something had gone into my womb. It can’t have hurt the baby. First thing is to talk to Robert. He knows about birthing babies. He’s my best hope of getting help.
Pushing the orange cover aside, Maria raised her hand, grasped Robert’s harness and began to pull herself out of the stretcher. Pain throbbed through her ankle. She looked down, moved her leg to avoid scraping her foot on the cover, pulled the harness again, looked up and gasped. The bubble was moving up Robert’s neck and the pattern had completely changed. Red and green rings were swirling round, completely encircling her. New little red and green circles appeared in the bubble above her, opened out like coloured ripples and moved down the bubble until she was completely enclosed by moving circles of glowing colour. She stopped pulling but the bubble kept moving slowly up Robert’s face. She saw his chin, his mouth open in a silent shout, his flared nostrils, his eyes wide and staring, his face frozen in an agonised death-mask.
She grasped the harness to stop herself moving as a long low moan escaped her lips.
‘What’s wrong?’ Sam said.
‘He’s dead.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes,’ she screamed.
‘I’m sorry. Stay calm, Maria. Everything’s going to be all right. Are you out of the stretcher?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you safe? You won’t fall will you?’
She looked down. ‘No. I seem to be floating.’ For a moment she felt dizzy then realised that the stretcher below her was slowly spinning round on the ends of the four yellow straps. As it spun the bottom part of the bubble turned with it and a blue light swept across Robert’s body.
‘I can see a blue light,’ she said.
‘Where’s it coming from?’
‘From under the flaps of the stretcher.’
She heard Sam say ‘She can see a blue light, Lord,’ and something inside her head seemed to shift to one side. Was he talking to God? Without thinking she began to pray quietly, her eyes closed. ‘Gegrüßet seist du, Maria, voll der Gnade, der Herr ist mit dir.’ Guiltily she began wondering how long it had been since she had said these words.
‘Michael thinks it’s a piece of crystal. Try to get it, Maria. It will help us.’
Michael? She pulled on the straps running down to the stretcher. Was it Michael that he was calling Lord? The stretcher began to float easily up towards her. The bottom half of the bubble moved too, coloured rings running down and closing behind the stretcher. The pattern on the top half of the bubble stayed in random blotches. Then she noticed a circular ridge where the two halves of the bubble met and realised she was looking through a round window, looking out of one bubble into another one. A second bubble! The two bubbles overlapped and merged together at the ridge, making a shape like a figure of 8. The bottom bubble was centred on the stretcher, the top one on her bump. She was so engrossed in watching the ridge move towards her that the stretcher almost hit her. She had to fend it off, then grasp and hold it to stop it floating away.
She opened the orange covers and looked inside. Something was sticking up through the hard white plastic base, something that glowed pale blue, deep down inside, near where her feet had been.
‘I can see you, Maria!’ Sam said. ‘What can you see?’
‘It looks like a piece of glass.’
‘Can you get it?’
She pushed the flaps back and ran her fingers over the glass. It was smooth, with straight clean edges poking through the stretcher’s base. It glowed with an inner light, casting shadows across the flaps.
‘No, it’s stuck in the plastic.’
‘You must. Michael says you must get it.’
She tried again but her trembling fingers could not pull it out. With a sudden inspiration she turned the stretcher over and reached across the bottom of the base. A larger chunk of the glass was sticking out. She grasped it and pulled. It came away in her hand.
‘I’ve got it.’
‘Good girl! Now you can escape. Use the rope to get up to the surface.’
With a shudder of relief she put the glass into her jacket pocket, eager to get away from the dead man. As she did so the two bubbles seemed to merge into one. She pulled on the rope, leaving the stretcher and the firefighter behind. She glanced back. Robert’s dead face was slipping away behind her, disappearing from sight as the coloured ripples closed over him. I wonder what killed you, she thought.
She pulled herself along the rope as fast as she could, hand over hand. It wasn’t hard work. The amazing thing was that she didn’t fall back down again. It was as if she was weightless, floating like the stretcher. The red and green rings ran quickly past her. It wasn’t until she reached the balcony that she realised she was pulling the wrong rope.
