Free The Chaos Code by Justin Richards Page A

brutal insect. It tilted back slightly as it paused over the lawn beside the drive in front of the house, then started slowly to descend.
    There were leaves on the drive and at the edge of the woods, blown down by the strong winds of the last few days. The leaves were whipped up by the downdraft. They spiralled upwards in a kaleidoscopic flurry – all the shades of the trees mixed into a maelstrom. Just for a moment, as the helicopter settled on the lawn, it looked as if the mass of leaves were taking on a shape – picked out in variations of green. Like seeing animals made out of clouds, Matt thought. A face – eyes, nose, mouth. Just for a second. Then the engine noise died down, the rotors spun slower and slower, the wind dropped, and the leaves fell formless to the ground.
    Beyond the now motionless helicopter, Matt couldsee Julius Venture and Robin standing outside the porch, watching. Robin waved. Matt waved back. Then immediately he felt stupid – she was probably waving at the people in the helicopter, not at him. Embarrassed, he almost turned away.
    He stopped at the sight of the man who jumped down from the helicopter and started walking purposefully towards the house. There was something familiar about him, Matt thought. He watched the man all the way up to the house. He was a big man – tall and broad, wearing a long, expensive-looking coat. His hair was as dark grey as the cloud-heavy sky. He shook hands with Venture, and together they went into the manor house.
    Robin stayed where she was, outside on the drive. She waved again, and this time Matt was sure she was waving to him. He started quickly up the drive towards her.
    She waited outside the porch, watching him with that slightly mocking half-smile of hers. Matt smiled back. It was just her manner. He was pretty sure that she wasn’t really mocking him. Almost pretty sure.
    â€˜Who was that?’ he asked. ‘I recognised him from somewhere.’
    â€˜Atticus Harper,’ Robin told him.
    â€˜Really? Dad’s mentioned him. The millionaire.’
    â€˜Billionaire, more like. He called my father late last night, asked if he could come and see him.’
    â€˜What about?’
    She raised an eyebrow. ‘Like it’s any of your business?’
    â€˜Sorry. Just asking.’
    â€˜That’s OK.’ She opened the door and he followed her inside. ‘I don’t know anyway. He just said he wanted to discuss something.’
    â€˜You know much about him?’ Matt asked.
    â€˜Do you?’
    He shrugged. ‘A bit. He’s rich. He’s an archaeologist – a “hobby archaeologist” Dad called him. Owns about a dozen businesses from oil to computer systems to an ice hockey team …’
    â€˜It’s a start.’ Robin was leading him through the hall and down the corridor towards the library. ‘Let’s look him up on the Internet.’ She paused, turning to face Matt. ‘Unless you have other plans?’
    â€˜No,’ he said, all thoughts of bus timetables dismissed. ‘No other plans.’
    There was an abundance of information about Atticus Harper on the web. The problem wasn’t finding a site, it was deciding which of them from the search engine’s list would be of most use.
    They started with one of his companies. It made computer components and silicon chips, and the site included a page about its founder and owner. It didn’t tell them much they didn’t already know between them. In fact, the more sites they looked at, the more detail they got but the less Matt felt he knew about the man.
    Atticus Harper was in his fifties. He had been a youngcomputer genius when Bill Gates rose to fame, founding a similar software company. But being in Britain his rise to fame and fortune was less spectacular or obtrusive. He seemed to be a private man. There was lots about what he owned or where he had been, very little about what he thought or did