Jubilee Year: A Novel (Erelong Trilogy Book I) - An Extended Sample

Chapter 28: PLATINUM BLONDE

The tallest man Storm had ever seen in his life appeared as if he had walked through the wall. Martyn Boas was just over seven feet from the bottom of his heels to the top of his head.

"Davenport got you here safely," the man said. "I'm pleased."

The light through the arched window had grown brighter with the giant's presence. It gave the startling Scandinavian-platinum hair on the large head the appearance of a halo.

Storm noticed the shining skin of his host was unlined. It was a face that might belong equally to an extremely healthy seventy-year-old or a twenty-year-old. He really could not tell. There was an absence of every mark of time passing Storm expected to find in anyone older than thirty years. And yet the man must surely be older than that, otherwise, how would he come to have an office deep below Australia's Parliament House?

The man's alabaster white skin had a sheen. His eyes were large and crystal clear. And he was not only striking physically but also in the way he spoke. His voice had the broad twang of someone from the Warrumbungle Region. It was the kind of voice Storm heard each and every day in and around Coona.

The giant stepped around the large desk and produced a small black wallet, tapping it with the side of his hand. A single thick, glossy white card fell into his palm and he placed it on the table beside Storm. "That's my business card." He did not appear the least bit slighted when his business card went straight into the boy's back pocket without so much as a cursory read. "You might want to learn something of my background," he suggested and he smiled.

"Oh," Storm said. He retrieved the card and read the text. "Martyn Boas. President of Consolidated Rare Earth Corp."

"Along with other companies I own. I have interests in mining and what have you—and some unrelated areas," Martyn said. He walked behind the desk that now appeared more like a console to Storm.

In the low light, Storm thought he saw the chair behind the console grow around and behind Martyn the instant he sat.

"I apologize if my appearance shocks you," Martyn said in his absurd broad twang. "It's a genetic condition I've lived with my entire life. Sometimes I forget how strange I must look to an average Australian if such an individual could exist. Let's just say an Australian who can stand a fair bit of sun." The laugh sounded like gravel and water sloshing in a bucket. "Don't you think so?"

Storm shifted in his seat. There was something unsettling about the way Martyn stared at him. He had seen countless farmers appraising stock with the same look on their faces. Now he understood how a farm animal might feel in the stockyards on a sale day.

"I could have let Stuart McKenna meet you, but I decided to do that instead. I hope you don't disappoint me."

"Prime Minister McKenna?" Storm asked in surprise.

Martyn was continuing to stare at Storm, his head held tilted at an odd angle. It was as if he were a little bewildered by what he saw in front of him. "The Prime Minister enjoys receiving his news first-hand. Straight from the source, which would be Michael. But, as it happens, McKenna is not at all capable of assisting in this matter. He's more of a hindrance. So—here we are, with no middleman to muddle things for us." He got up from behind the console and walked to a cabinet that had simply appeared as he approached the wall. It opened to present him with a crystal decanter. "You are thirsty." He stood quite still for a whole in front of the cabinet. He might have been trying to remember something. Or, he might have been listening to a sound unheard by Storm.

"Water if you have it," Storm answered. His head felt like it was on fire.

Martyn brought the decanter along with two glasses to Storm's table. He pulled the stopper and poured a half-glass for Storm and one for himself. "Have you heard of negative ions? This is something similar. It's quite refreshing."

"I'm supposed to meet Professor Samuel Blenker," Storm said, ignoring the glass on the table beside him. "Do you work together?"

Martyn pulled back his head and roared with laughter. The size of the man's mouth was startling. It contained a lot of teeth. Storm was no expert on the matter, but it looked like Martyn had far too many.

The giant picked up the decanter and the glass of clear liquid he had poured for himself and took it back to his desk. The chair, which had disappeared the moment he stood up, reappeared once more and molded in an instant to the shape of the large body. He took a sip from his glass and set it to one side. His fingers began to trace circles on the console. Below the moving hands, the dark surface responded with a faint blue glow and a humming sound. "What is it you have for me?" Martyn asked and there was an edge to his voice that had not been there before.

"It's actually for Professor Sam..." Storm began before cutting himself short. "It's a short string of letters and numbers."

He had promised Michael he would not give the information to anyone but his astronomer friend. He had promised he would not give it to the authorities. Davenport had looked like a policeman. Martyn was certainly some kind of official. Damn, but he couldn't believe how bad his head was hurting! It felt like the hangover he came home with the day after Ethan's nineteenth birthday party.

"Take the pen and paper on the table beside you and write," Martyn instructed.

The pressure in his temples was vicious, but as he wrote the pain lessened. He checked the lines and seeing there were no mistakes got up and placed the paper on the console.

"Drink the water I poured you," Martyn said. "You will feel better."

The water tasted bland. Like water. He emptied the glass in several gulps and when he finished he realized his head wasn't hurting any longer.

"Unfortunately, the good Professor Blenker seems to have vanished," Martyn informed him. "He never showed up for dinner at his home yesterday evening," he said. A smile passed like a shadow across his face. "His wife reported him missing this morning. As it happens, his disappearance doesn't matter to you. Michael was mistaken to think his colleague could help."

Martyn stood and once more the chair fell away into nothingness. "You will join me for lunch. There is much I would like to talk about and we have very little time."

Storm knew he should be afraid of Martyn. Here was a man of great power. Physical strength to be certain, but also undoubtedly great political power. Here was a man who scared those who worked under him. And, it was this man who had kidnapped him. And yet, Storm did not fear Martyn. He felt alert but also relaxed. His mind was clear in a way he had never known it to be. More than that, he felt as though a veil hanging over his eyes had been torn aside.

He was curious to learn why Martyn Boas found him so interesting. And, by no small measure, he was flattered by the fact.