Scorpia

slider, but you’re still going to feel the opening shock. But at least that’ll warn you you’re about to land. That’s when you get both feet and knees together. Put your chin on your chest. And try not to bite your tongue in half.
    I almost did on my first time.”
    “Yes.” Single words were about all Alex could manage.
    Jerry looked over the precipice. “The roof of Consanto is right beneath us and there’s no wind. You won’t have much time to steer but you can try pulling on the toggles.” He rested a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I could do this for you, if you like,” he said.
    “No.” Alex shook his head. “Thanks, Jerry. But it’s down to me. It was my idea…”
    “Good luck.”
    “Break a leg!” Tom exclaimed. “Or rather—don’t.”
    Alex moved to the edge between two of the statues and looked down. He was right over the complex, although from this height it looked tiny, like a silver Lego brick. Most of the workers would have left by now but there would still be guards. He would just have to hope that nobody looked up in the few seconds it would take him to arrive. But that was what he had observed earlier, outside the gate. Consanto faced the sea. The main road and the entrance were on the same side. That was where all their attention was focused, and if Alex was lucky, he would be able to drop in—quite literally—unnoticed.
    His stomach heaved. There was no feeling in his legs. He felt as if he were floating. He tried to take a deep breath but the air didn’t seem to want to rise above his chest. Did it really matter to him so much, penetrating Consanto, finding out how it might be involved with Scorpia? What would Tom and his brother say if he changed his mind, even at this last minute?
    To hell with it, he thought. Lots of teenagers did BASE jumps. Jerry himself had recently jumped off the New River Gorge Bridge in West Virginia. It had been Bridge Day, the one day in the year when the jump was legal in America, and he had said there’d been dozens of kids waiting in line. It was a sport. People did it for fun. If he hesitated for one more second, he would never do it. It was time to get it over with.
    In a single movement he climbed onto the parapet, checked the line from the pilot chute, took one last look at the target and jumped.
    It was like committing suicide.
    It was like nothing he had ever experienced.
    Everything was a blur. There was the sky, the edge of the cliff and (unless he imagined it) Tom’s staring face.
    Then it all tilted. The blue rushed into the grey with the white of the roof punching up. The wind hammered into his face. His eyes were being sucked into the backs of their sockets with the sudden acceleration. He had to deploy. No. Jerry had warned him about this. How many seconds?
    Now!
    He threw out the pilot chute, hoping it would find the clean airflow that was meant to surround him. Had it worked? The chute had already disappeared, dragging with it the bridle line which would in turn suck the Blackjack canopy out of its pack. God! He’d left it too late. He was falling too fast. A long, silent scream with the wind in his ears, skin crawling. Where was the bloody chute? Where was up? Where was down? Falling…
    And then there was a sudden wrenching, braking sensation. He thought he was being torn in half. He could see something, ropes and billowing material, just outside his vision. The canopy! But that didn’t matter. Where was he going? He looked down and saw his own feet, dangling in space. A white rectangle was racing up to meet them. The roof of the complex—but it was too far away. He was going to miss. Quick. Pull the toggles. That’s better. The roof tilted back towards him. What had he forgotten? Flaring! He pulled down on both brakes, dropping the tail of the canopy so that—like a plane landing—he came in at an upward angle. But had he left it too late?
    All he could see was the surface of the roof. Then he hit it. He felt the shock travel through his ankles, his knees and up into his thighs. He ran forward. The canopy was dragging him. Jerry had warned him about this. There might be a stronger breeze lower down and if he wasn’t careful he would be pulled off the roof. He could see the edge racing towards him. He dug in his heels, reaching behind him for the risers. He caught hold of them and pulled them in. Stop running! With just centimetres to spare, he managed to get a grip with the balls of his feet. He leant back,