me.’
‘But not now?’
‘She sees less than she used to,’ Rupam said.
Then Maria came in to get herself a cup of tea, and Ben and the others moved on to computer games.
Ben and Rupam played a battle game with futuristic tanks attacking robot soldiers dug in round a ruined city. Gemma was happy to sit and watch – clapping when things went well and sighing loudly when they didn’t. She seemed even more involved than Ben and Rupam.
Two levels of game-play later and they were stuck. Rupam’s tank was bogged down in a muddy street, surrounded by rubble. Ben’s was between a collapsed bridge and a huge bomb crater. After several attempts to drive over the rubble or move fast enough to make it over the gap in the bridge, both of them were ready to give up.
‘It’s impossible,’ Ben complained.
‘There must be a way to do it,’ Rupam said.
‘But what is it?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Webby will know,’ Gemma said. ‘I bet Webby knows. Let’s ask him. He won’t mind.’
‘I suppose,’ Rupam said glumly. ‘Though we should be able to work it out ourselves.’
‘Who’s Webby?’ Ben wanted to know. He’d heard the name mentioned before.
‘You haven’t met Webby?’ Rupam’s mood immediately brightened. ‘You must meet Webby.’
Maria looked up from her cup of tea and a paperback romance. ‘Don’t eat the pizza,’ she warned. ‘It’s growing things.’
*
Heading the other way past the lecture hall, they came to a door at the end of the corridor. It was opened by a number pad – the code was 666. Beyond the door, stone steps disappeared into the gloom.
‘There’s lights on at the bottom,’ Rupam told Ben. ‘You’ll see as soon as we turn the corner.’
‘Unless Webby’s asleep,’ Gemma added.
Rupam laughed. ‘Webby doesn’t sleep.’
‘So who is Webby?’ Ben asked as he followed Rupam down the stairs.
‘He’s just … Webby. He runs the website, works all the computers and everything.’
‘And he does it from the cellar.’
‘The vault,’ Gemma corrected him.
The light did indeed increase as soon as Ben was round the corner of the stairs. And he felt the cold, like walking into a fridge. There was a noise too – a steady thump like a heartbeat.
The cellar was a single large room with whitewashed brick walls. A big arched alcove at one end held a wine rack full of dusty bottles. A circular metal door like you might find on a submarine filled another alcove. A heavy locking wheel was fixed in the middle and huge bolts held the door in place.
‘The vault is actually through there,’ Rupam told Ben. ‘It’s like a big safe or strongroom.’
‘So what’s in the vault?’
Rupam shrugged. ‘No idea. Never been inside.’
Most of the rest of the cellar was taken up with computer equipment – system boxes, monitor screens, disk drives. Cables ran across the floor like creepers and up the walls like vines.
In among the jungle of wires and cables was a narrow bed, on top of which was a cardboard box with a pizza in it. Ben didn’t need to look too closely to know that Maria had been right – not everything on the pizza was original topping; someof it had grown since. A couple of slices had been pulled away, but they didn’t look like they had been touched any more than the rest of the pizza.
In the middle of it all sat a young man in a wheeled office chair. He had long, dark, greasy hair and was wearing jeans and a denim shirt. He looked incredibly pale and rather gaunt, with angular features and dark-rimmed eyes. The heartbeat thump of rhythm was coming from his earphones, connected to one of the computers in front of him.
‘That’s Webby,’ Gemma said.
The man was bobbing his head in time with the music. He tapped at a keyboard, moved a mouse, slapped the side of a screen and sighed. When he saw them, he swung round rapidly in the chair, the wire from his earphones knocking a couple of CDs to the floor, but he didn’t seem to notice.
‘Hi,
‘But not now?’
‘She sees less than she used to,’ Rupam said.
Then Maria came in to get herself a cup of tea, and Ben and the others moved on to computer games.
Ben and Rupam played a battle game with futuristic tanks attacking robot soldiers dug in round a ruined city. Gemma was happy to sit and watch – clapping when things went well and sighing loudly when they didn’t. She seemed even more involved than Ben and Rupam.
Two levels of game-play later and they were stuck. Rupam’s tank was bogged down in a muddy street, surrounded by rubble. Ben’s was between a collapsed bridge and a huge bomb crater. After several attempts to drive over the rubble or move fast enough to make it over the gap in the bridge, both of them were ready to give up.
‘It’s impossible,’ Ben complained.
‘There must be a way to do it,’ Rupam said.
‘But what is it?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Webby will know,’ Gemma said. ‘I bet Webby knows. Let’s ask him. He won’t mind.’
‘I suppose,’ Rupam said glumly. ‘Though we should be able to work it out ourselves.’
‘Who’s Webby?’ Ben wanted to know. He’d heard the name mentioned before.
‘You haven’t met Webby?’ Rupam’s mood immediately brightened. ‘You must meet Webby.’
Maria looked up from her cup of tea and a paperback romance. ‘Don’t eat the pizza,’ she warned. ‘It’s growing things.’
*
Heading the other way past the lecture hall, they came to a door at the end of the corridor. It was opened by a number pad – the code was 666. Beyond the door, stone steps disappeared into the gloom.
‘There’s lights on at the bottom,’ Rupam told Ben. ‘You’ll see as soon as we turn the corner.’
‘Unless Webby’s asleep,’ Gemma added.
Rupam laughed. ‘Webby doesn’t sleep.’
‘So who is Webby?’ Ben asked as he followed Rupam down the stairs.
‘He’s just … Webby. He runs the website, works all the computers and everything.’
‘And he does it from the cellar.’
‘The vault,’ Gemma corrected him.
The light did indeed increase as soon as Ben was round the corner of the stairs. And he felt the cold, like walking into a fridge. There was a noise too – a steady thump like a heartbeat.
The cellar was a single large room with whitewashed brick walls. A big arched alcove at one end held a wine rack full of dusty bottles. A circular metal door like you might find on a submarine filled another alcove. A heavy locking wheel was fixed in the middle and huge bolts held the door in place.
‘The vault is actually through there,’ Rupam told Ben. ‘It’s like a big safe or strongroom.’
‘So what’s in the vault?’
Rupam shrugged. ‘No idea. Never been inside.’
Most of the rest of the cellar was taken up with computer equipment – system boxes, monitor screens, disk drives. Cables ran across the floor like creepers and up the walls like vines.
In among the jungle of wires and cables was a narrow bed, on top of which was a cardboard box with a pizza in it. Ben didn’t need to look too closely to know that Maria had been right – not everything on the pizza was original topping; someof it had grown since. A couple of slices had been pulled away, but they didn’t look like they had been touched any more than the rest of the pizza.
In the middle of it all sat a young man in a wheeled office chair. He had long, dark, greasy hair and was wearing jeans and a denim shirt. He looked incredibly pale and rather gaunt, with angular features and dark-rimmed eyes. The heartbeat thump of rhythm was coming from his earphones, connected to one of the computers in front of him.
‘That’s Webby,’ Gemma said.
The man was bobbing his head in time with the music. He tapped at a keyboard, moved a mouse, slapped the side of a screen and sighed. When he saw them, he swung round rapidly in the chair, the wire from his earphones knocking a couple of CDs to the floor, but he didn’t seem to notice.
‘Hi,
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