The Power of Five Oblivion

them about thirty metres apart. Stalemate. Matt couldn’t fly the plane without Lohan. But Lohan wasn’t leaving here without Matt. The rainforest was still, the sun beating down. Nothing moved. It was as if they were the last two people in the world.
    Then Lohan swore silently and ran back down the steps, past the dead bodies and through the gate to reach him. Matt couldn’t move. If he had let go of the fence he would have collapsed. All his strength was focused on the plane.
    “I was coming back for you,” Lohan insisted.
    Still Matt didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. It was all in his eyes.
    It seemed to take for ever to get back to the plane and all the time Lohan was expecting more soldiers to arrive. He thought he saw a movement in the control tower, but if there was anyone there, they had decided to leave them alone. They climbed the steps together – Lohan was more or less carrying Matt again – and this time the door swung open as they approached. He set Matt down in one of the seats at the front of the plane, closed the door and went into the cockpit. It took him a few more minutes to familiarize himself with the controls, but he had been right when he had first seen the plane, more than a week ago. It was all very similar to what he had been used to.
    Jet aircrafts do not have keys. This one was ready to fly.
    Lohan went through all the start-up procedures, firing up the engines and waiting the agonizing length of time that it took for them to reach full velocity. Finally, he turned the plane and steered it into position. It was only now that he saw that the runway was much too short. Briefly, he wished that he hadn’t shot the four men quite so thoughtlessly. One of them might have been the pilot. He checked the controls. At least the plane was full of fuel.
    He pushed against the joystick, at the same time controlling the rudder, and they rolled down the runway, picking up speed. Now Lohan was the one who was sweating. This was a deadly business. The ground was uneven and full of potholes and if a wheel caught, the plane would be spun round and sent careering into the trees. The entire cockpit was vibrating like a spin dryer and his vision was blurred. He was aware of the end of the track getting closer and closer, and wondered if he had even reached V2, the correct speed for take-off. He had no choice but to find out. He pulled back. For a moment nothing happened, but then he felt a burst of sheer exhilaration as the vibrations stopped and he realized he had left the ground. Even so, it was close. The wheels hit the first of the trees. He heard the impact and the whole plane shook. But he was in the air. Looking out of the window, over to starboard, he saw the dark hole that was the Serra Morte.
    Lohan muttered a short prayer in Mandarin. With a sense of relief, he banked away, checking the compass on the dashboard in front of him.
    He was heading north. In a few hours he would be in the United States.
    But the plane would not go north. All the computer systems were on and seemed to be working properly. Lohan flicked a few switches, tugged at the controls. Nothing happened. He couldn’t make the plane turn. He could almost hear the engines screaming their refusal. The Legacy 600 simply wouldn’t fly in the direction he wanted. Finally, at six thousand metres, he flicked on the autopilot and left his seat. The cockpit door was still open. Matt was still in the front seat, his legs stretched out.
    “Who is flying this plane?” Lohan demanded. “Me or you?”
    “How long until we get there?” Matt asked.
    “There? You mean Oblivion? Is that where we’re going? Antarctica?”
    Matt said nothing.
    Lohan gave in. “I don’t know how long it will take,” he said. He didn’t even try to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “You tell me.”
    “I don’t know either.” Matt was sounding sleepy again. “Just let me know when we arrive.”
    Matt closed his eyes. Lohan watched him for a moment, then climbed back into the cockpit. The plane was still on autopilot but it occurred to him that it wasn’t following the computer instructions. It was doing whatever Matt told it to. And suddenly, for reasons he couldn’t quite understand, he found himself smiling. A minute later, he began to laugh.
    The plane continued its journey over South America. Oblivion lay ahead.

DARK WATER

THIRTY-FIVE
    They came across the fields just as the sun was rising, a line of policemen that was as long as