6
T8
An unmarked jet had been waiting for them at a small airfield just outside of London. Flanked by two more SUVs, similar to the ones in their convey, the plane had, the moment they were all on board, immediately taxied out to the runway and taken off.
Attempting to work out where they might be going, Arthur had tried to keep track of their route by searching for familiar landmarks on the ground. But no sooner had the aircraft climbed through several large banks of cloud than he’d completely lost his bearings. What he didn’t fail to spot, though, was that after less than an hour in the air, they were no longer flying over land! The words of the blogger had immediately rung in his ears.
And so it was that for the next seven and a half hours their course continued to take them out over open water, finally hitting land again a little after nine o’clock UK time. By now Arthur had worked out with some certainty that wherever it was they were going, it was most definitely in the northwestern hemisphere, because had they been flying east, then it would already have been dark outside. Nose pressed up against the window, he’d watched as a landscape of forests and mountains unfolded in front of them, stretching away to the horizon. In places, it was already buried under blankets of early winter snows.
In between dozing and covertly checking on the cat, who didn’t seem to be having any trouble sleeping the whole way, Arthur had spent quite a large portion of the flight seriously regretting having allowed his mum to talk him out of taking his mobile phone with him. Not only did it have all his games on it, but all his music, too.
‘If you leave it there, then you’ll probably never get it back. And don’t think for a minute that we’ll be buying you another one any time soon if you do. In any case, your father will have his, and a few days away from those games of yours won’t do you any harm, either,’ had been the speech.
As a result, he’d been forced to listen to hours of the general and his father discussing world affairs, all of which seemed to be so far removed from his own life that the only interesting moment had been when his father had attempted to badger him into finally telling them where they were going. The general, though, had smiled apologetically and said that it was top secret.
And so, it wasn’t until the plane had finally begun its descent that Arthur got his first chance to learn something about it. Resembling a kind of town, it was much bigger than he’d been expecting and dominated by several very large buildings, which were themselves flanked by tall tower-like structures. Linked together by networks of over-ground walkways, the whole base, from what he could make out, appeared to have been constructed around a central glass dome. Trying to take in as much of it as he could, he barely noticed that they had landed.
‘So, here we are then. Welcome to T8,’ said the general, as the minivan which had been waiting for them on the tarmac came to a stop inside a hangar. Two soldiers ran up and snapped to attention as he got out.
‘Sir, everything in order, Sir,’ said one of them.
The general nodded.
Stuffed full of racks and containers, the hangar had all manner of vehicles parked along its edges, including, to Arthur’s surprise, several light tanks. A door clanged shut at the far end, and a small group hurried over.
‘Ah, Maria Nikolaevna. A pleasure to see you again,’ smiled the general to the lady dressed in a grey flight suit and cap. ‘Arthur, Maria is going to be your guide and assistant during your stay here. So, if you need anything at all, she’ll be the person to ask.’