Frozen Enemies (5 page)

Two metres from the ship, a bulky machine – at least three metres tall – was keeping perfect pace with John’s Privateer. Its eight arms each held a heavy warp gun. From what little he had learned of galactic weapons, John knew that just one was more than capable of reducing the Privateer to atomic particles, and currently
two
were pointing directly at him.

His jaw dropped open inside the helmet. He tried to shout but nothing came out of his mouth.

Somewhere in the back of his mind a small voice told him to stop staring at the machine and to concentrate on landing.

With effort, he returned his attention the ground. The dock was just ahead. He could see students milling around their landed ships already. John suddenly realized that in the shock of seeing the Omega-bot, he’d forgotten to cut the speed.

I’m coming in too fast!
he screamed in his head.
I’m going to crash. I’m going to CRASH!

Terrified, John squeezed his eyes shut. “Believe in yourself.” Zepp’s words echoed in John’s head. He opened his eyes.

No. I’m not going to crash. Not today.

Seconds away from smashing into the landing pad, a look of grim determination crossed John’s face. Moving over the touchpad skilfully, his right hand brought the front of the Privateer up. His left reduced the speed quickly but smoothly.

Still too fast. Too late now...

Numbers flickered on the shell screen by his head: twenty-five metres from the ground, fifteen, ten, five.

The Privateer landed with the lightest of bumps.

“Awesome landing, John. Don’t know why you were so worried about the examination.”

John blinked as Emmie’s voice came through the craft’s intercom. He stared wildly about him, hardly daring to believe that he had landed safely. Yet the ship was resting on the landing strip, neatly at the end of a row. Somehow he had managed to land without killing himself, or anyone else.

Believe in yourself.

“Maybe,” he whispered. “Or maybe it was luck. Don’t start getting cocky just yet, Riley.”

Beside him, another Privateer landed, bouncing and skidding to a halt a good distance from where it was supposed to be. Seconds later, Kaal clambered out, shaking his head.

Leaning back in his seat, John felt a grin of relief spread across his face. He was alive. And even if it had been luck rather than skill, he had still made a landing good enough to impress Emmie. “Computer,” he said. “Engage docking protocols, shut down engines, and let me out of here.”

“Affirmative, John Riley.”

Jumping out of the craft, John pulled off his helmet, running a hand through his mop of blond hair as he walked over to the gaggle of students thronging around Ms Vartexia. Behind, four Omega-bots stood guard, watching every movement through glowing green electronic eyes, warp guns held ready. Telling himself the machines were there to guard the exhibits, not to execute visitors, John tried to ignore them.

The Elvian teacher was trying to keep order, but no one was listening. Around her, backs were slapped; hands, tentacles, and claws smacked together in high-fives. Mordant, John noticed, was standing on the edge of the group with only G-Vez buzzing around his shoulders.

“A superb landing, young master,” the droid droned, sounding quite unimpressed. As no one else was congratulating Mordant, it extended a small arm for a brief high-five.

“Very cool moves, John!” Emmie yelled, as John approached. “Shame Jegger didn’t see you: he’d be proud.”

“Don’t you dare tell him about my landing,” said Kaal, jogging across the landing pad to join them. “He’ll never let me in a spaceship again.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” laughed Emmie. “Bareon’s was worse; wasn’t it, Bareon?”

“I hardly touched Queelin’s ship,” Bareon snapped.

“It didn’t feel like that from the inside!” Queelin shouted back, her antennae twitching furiously. “I was thrown halfway across the dock.”

“You were lucky the whole dock isn’t a smoking crater in the ground,” said John, seriously. “I totally freaked out when I saw the Omega-bot flying next to me. Thought I was going to crash.”

“Here we all are then, safe and sound,” the headmaster cut in brightly, as he climbed out of his own Privateer. “Such a beautiful day, too.”

John realized that he was squinting and that his skin felt pleasantly warm. For the first time since he had left Earth, he could feel a sun’s rays on his face, the warmth of a star halfway across the galaxy from his own. Looking up, he saw white clouds drifting across a blue sky. In the distance snowy mountain peaks glittered in the sunlight. Further down, waterfalls of melting snow poured through a thick jungle. Not far from the docking port was a wide lake. John’s grin returned, along with the holiday feeling he’d had in the changing room at Hyperspace High. Archivus Major was a beautiful planet.

“As we only have two days and a whole world of wonders to see, I suggest we get started immediately,” Lorem continued, rubbing his hands together in glee. “We’ll walk to the Mars Dust Storm exhibit. This should be of special interest to you, John. Mars, as you know, is your own planet’s closest neighbour.”

* * *

“Mars!” Ms Varexia called out. “One of the galaxy’s most interesting worlds. Despite the planet’s hostile environment, its people achieved hyperspace technology very quickly and led the way in forming the first Galactic Council.”

The group walked across a bridge that looked like it was made from glass, followed by the ever-present Omega-bots. Already, John was finding it easier to ignore the menacing, silent machines. They were quickly becoming part of the scenery. Ahead stood a massive, box-like grey building. “Obviously, none of us are Martians, so we will have to wear protective suits,” Ms Vartexia continued, with a sharp look at John.

He smiled, remembering the only reason he was at Hyperspace High was because she had mistaken him for a Martian prince.

“What is this place?” he asked Kaal a few minutes later, while they both pulled white all-in-one suits with facemasks over their SecondSkins.

Every student had been issued with a ThinScreen guide at the dock, and Kaal was currently flicking through his.

“It says here that Mars Dust Storm exactly simulates the conditions on Mars forty million years ago,” the Derrilian replied. “It’s supposed to give visitors an idea of how hard it must have been for the Martians to build a civilization.”

“Forty
million
years ago? Human beings only
evolved
about a quarter of a million years ago.”

Kaal looked down at him. “That explains a
lot
,” he grinned.

John punched his friend on the shoulder. “At least we can land spaceships properly,” he shot back.

A few minutes later, the two of them lined up with the class in the main hall of Mars Dust Storm. Before them was a desert of red sand and craggy rocks. Dotted here and there were pyramids that Ms Vartexia told them had been towns and cities in the days before the Martian people had created new homes deep beneath the ground. Above, a vast ceiling screen showed a 3-D scene of dark skies and swirling cloud. The sun –
My sun
, John thought – looked small and weak.

“There’s Earth,” said Lorem quietly, before adding with a chuckle, “I can see England from here.”

Following the headmaster’s pointing finger, John saw what looked like a small star, blue against the dark background of space. Not twinkling, but shining with the constant light that meant it was a planet and not a distant sun.

Seeing his own planet gave John another pang of homesickness.
It’s a hologram, not the real Earth
, he told himself sternly.

“In a moment, the environment generators will start,” said Ms Vartexia. “When they do, we will make our way across the hall, stopping midway at the Pyramid of Tal-So-Ga.”

A roaring sound began. Seconds later John was almost knocked off his feet by a gale that howled across the replica Mars. Carried by the wind, red sand hissed against his face mask until he could see only a vague white shape that had been Kaal a few seconds before. The temperature dropped quickly.

“Let’s go!” shouted Ms Vartexia over the storm. “Keep the person in front of you in sight at all times.”

“You OK?” Kaal yelled over his shoulder, as they began the trek across the fake Martian landscape.

“No. Something really weird is happening!” John shouted back.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m actually
enjoying
a Hyperspace History lesson.”

It was, John had to admit, a fascinating experience. Every so often the wind dropped, giving just enough time to see rocky hills and pyramids in the distance. Then, all too quickly, it would resume a shrieking, sand-blasting howl that made conversation impossible. Taking one tiring step after another against the gale, John tried to imagine what it must have been like to live on a planet like this.
No wonder they developed space travel quickly
, he couldn’t help thinking.
Probably couldn’t leave fast enough
.

Inside the pyramid, a surprise was waiting for him. The furniture and decoration were almost exactly the same as he had seen in books about ancient Egypt. “Ms Vartexia,” he said excitedly, as the Elvian led the class inside. “Did the Martians ever contact human beings?”

“The Martians have been visiting your planet for millions of years,” the tall, blue-skinned teacher answered.

“But I thought they kept it a secret. Everything in this pyramid looks Egyptian.”

Ms Vartexia sighed. “That would have been the Martian king, Ram-Es-Izz the Bizarre. He had the strange idea that humans could be civilized and started trying to teach them. Of course, we now know that human beings are much too primit—”

“Many people still think that Ram-Es-Izz was a great king who saw potential in the people of Earth,” Lorem interrupted. “I, for one, agree with him. Humans might be capable of great things.”

“Ahh, yes. Yes indeed, headmaster,” gabbled Ms Vartexia, looking from Lorem to John. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest that our John Riley is in any way primitive. I meant that—”

“Perhaps we should move on to the Pool of Ritual on the lower floor,” said Lorem, cutting her off tactfully.

When the pyramid tour was over, the class headed back out into the dust storm. John took one last look behind him as he trudged across red rocks, watching as the great building disappeared in a cloud of sand. For a moment, he wondered what would happen if he told his fellow humans about what he had learned there.

They’d lock me up and throw away the key.

By the time the class reached the exit, he was a little sad to be leaving the dust storm. Although it was fake, when the wind dropped he had been able to look up into the sky and see Earth shining down at him. It had felt almost like being home.

“Well, Mars is as dull as a weekend on Darum Four, then,” said Emmie Tarz, as the class piled out of the exit. “Whatever’s next, I hope we can actually see where we’re going.”

“Yep. Seen one desolate, sandy planet, seen them all,” Kaal agreed.

John grinned. It was difficult to be sad when Kaal and Emmie were around. “Hey, you two, that’s my closest neighbour you’re talking about... what is
that
?”

An alarm blared. Instantly, a door at the end of the corridor slammed shut. Students looked at each other, eyes wide, antennae twitching, and claws clicking nervously.

“What’s going on?” demanded Lishtig.

“Quiet there,” Ms Vartexia ordered. “Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen... Headmaster, there are only fifteen students here. One is missing.”

“Check again.” Lorem’s calm voice held a note of steel.

“Fifteen. I checked twice.”

John looked around. “It’s Mordant,” he said quickly. “He’s not here.”

For a brief moment there was silence, then, in the distance, a voice: “Leave the young master alone. You don’t know who you are dealing with. Master Talliver is a very important young man.”

All eyes snapped to the Mars Dust Storm exit, as two Omega-bots emerged, holding Mordant between them. The warp guns had disappeared, as each of the machines’ hands held a part of the black-haired boy. Mordant’s face twisted in frustration as he tried to break free.

“Mordant Talliver,” said Lorem icily. “Please tell me what is going on here.”

Instead, it was G-Vez that answered. “If I may explain,” said the little droid. “The young master took just a moment to observe—”

“I said
Mordant
Talliver
,” the headmaster roared. Gone was the kindly, cheerful old man. This was the voice of a powerful being whose word was law.

G-Vez fell silent. Mordant glared at the headmaster, then dropped his eyes. An Omega-bot held out a portable HoloScreen in a metal claw. “Rule thirty-five A,” it droned. “Communication technology is forbidden.”

Lorem took the HoloScreen. “The Vapourball Championship,” he said, looking down at it with disgust. “I should have known, but I didn’t think that you would be so idiotic—”

“I was just trying to get the scores,” Mordant interrupted sulkily.

“Be
quiet
,” the headmaster commanded. “So foolish as to break the rules here of all places. Have you any idea of the trouble you are in?”

Still glaring at the ground, Mordant shook his head.

“You are lucky I don’t expel you on the spot,” Lorem bellowed. “All communication with other planets is banned on Archivus Major. You were told that a dozen times. It might interfere with the exhibits’ delicate technology and cause a disaster.”

Mordant said nothing.

“The Omega-bots will escort you back to your Privateer. I will decide what to do with you when we are back on Hyperspace High. In the meantime, you will stay in your ship until we leave this planet,” Lorem finished.

“Can I at least have my HoloSc—”

“
Dismissed
!”

* * *

“I guess Mordant won’t be seeing much of Archivus Major after all,” said John, as the class and their two teachers settled on a shady hilltop outside the Mars Dust Storm building. Looking into his bag, John pulled out a sandwich and peered at it. “BLT,” he said, whistling. “With plenty of mayonnaise. My favourite. Thanks, Zepp.”