Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London (26 page)

BOOK: Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London
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“What?” Johnny asked, startled to suddenly be involved.

“It's your ship. You brought us here. It is for you to go through.”

The soldiers bristled menacingly. “OK, I'll do it,” said Johnny.

“Wait—I'll go too,” said Clara, stepping forward to join Johnny. “Let's do it together.”

“If no one does it soon you will be killed anyway,” snapped Mestor. “Even if you are children.” The soldiers each took a weapon from their belts and pointed it at a member of the quartet.

“On three,” said Johnny to Clara. She nodded. “One … two … three,” and they stepped through the arch together, joining Mestor on the other side. Johnny smiled at Clara. There was nothing to it except for a slight queasy feeling in his stomach.

The priest raised his left eyebrow and said, “Welcome to Atlantis … follow me,” whereupon he turned on his heels and began to walk.

“Wait,” squeaked a voice from behind. The priest stopped and turned to watch. “If I'd known it was simply a matter of stepping through there,” continued the Chancellor hurrying toward the arch. At this the red stone glowed brighter and brighter and Johnny heard a humming of electricity. Gronack was flung backward a full fifteen meters through the air and landed on top of the semicircle of soldiers, knocking three of them to the ground. The other guards crowded around, guns at the ready.

“No!” shouted Johnny, running back. Mestor raised his hand to signal the soldiers not to shoot. “Alf, take the Chancellor back to the ship. Make sure it's OK … and check on Ptery too.” Alf
picked up a trembling Gronack as though it was light as a feather and slung it over his shoulder, before setting off toward the Spirit of London. Johnny watched him walk safely through the crowd of soldiers and then he turned round to face Mestor and Clara.

“I was feeling generous,” said the priest. “It may not happen again. Neith does not like to be kept waiting. Follow me.” He turned and led Johnny and Clara along a narrow golden path, limping as he went and leaning on his staff to support him. Soon they arrived at a quayside, where several seagulls squawked above a sparkling boat, cut from a single enormous crystal. A tanned, black-haired man stood in the prow. Johnny and Clara climbed aboard and sat down together on a bench in the middle. The priest followed and stood behind them. He nodded to the man at the front, who picked up a set of reins, whistled and the vessel began to move.

Johnny and Clara leaned forward to see what was powering the boat. Clara gasped. “They're beautiful—can you see them, Johnny?” Johnny nodded and smiled. Right now there was nothing they could do except sit back and enjoy the ride. The Sun was shining and they were speeding across the water in a boat made of crystal, pulled by a pod of dolphins.

The canal was huge—wider than a football pitch. Gulls flew overhead and the boat skimmed across the water so quickly that Johnny could feel the salt spray on his face. Soon the battered Spirit of London was shrinking into the distance as they left the spaceport behind and entered the inland sea that divided it from the central island. Johnny wanted to talk to Clara about the great walls of water surrounding them in the far distance, but the priest's eyes were burning a hole in the back of his head. He didn't want to give anything away, so he and Clara both fixed their eyes straight ahead on the red tower that dominated the skyline. After about twenty minutes they arrived at the far
shore. The dolphins pressed straight ahead between giant fortifications and into another canal, taking the crystal boat to the very heart of the island. Huge buildings rose up from the water's edge, the Sun gleaming off their golden, or sometimes red, roofs.

“What's that red stuff?” Clara asked, turning round to face Mestor. Johnny gave Clara a nudge in the ribs. He didn't think they should be asking questions right now when their arrival had apparently been mistaken for someone else's.

The priest, though, seemed happy enough to answer. “Orichalcum,” he replied, “one of the treasures of Atlantis.”

“It's pretty,” Clara replied.

“It's more than just pretty,” said the priest. “It magnifies the power of the Diaquant—focuses it where it is most needed.”

“Oh really,” said Clara, wide-eyed. “How do you make it?”

“It isn't made,” said Mestor. “It's mined. It is a metal unlike any other.”

“Is that what holds the ocean back?” Clara asked.

“You ask a lot of questions, little girl,” Mestor replied. “In Neith's presence you would be advised to hold your tongue.”

Johnny could sense Clara was just about to ask exactly who Neith was, so again he dug his elbow into her. She turned round and gave him a sharp look. “At least I'm trying to find out what's going on,” she hissed.

The boat began to slow and move toward the bank in front of the biggest building they'd seen so far, set back a little from the water's edge. Johnny nodded toward it. “I think we'll find out soon enough,” he whispered back.

As they came in to moor, they saw the canalside was crowded with priests in the same blue robes as Mestor. The crystal boat drew up alongside and Johnny and Clara jumped the short gap onto the springy turf of the bank. Mestor disembarked with a little more difficulty. The other priests parted and he led the two
children across the grass between an avenue of palm trees toward the building. It was fronted by eight enormous white pillars, topped by a brightly painted frieze, and flags with different hieroglyphs fluttered from above the orichalcum red roof. They passed between the pillars and approached a doorway flanked by two guards holding curved swords. Mestor stopped, turned to Johnny and Clara and said, “The Temple of Neith. Speak only when you are spoken to.” The guards lowered their swords and stepped aside to allow the priest, and then Johnny and Clara, to enter. It was refreshingly cool the instant they stepped inside. They crossed a great hall and as they approached the far end two giant doors, covered in more strange symbols, swung open, revealing an inner courtyard. Mestor led Johnny and Clara through and along a golden path toward its center. Bright blue and green birds darted in and out of the shrubs around them, until they reached a fountain with water spurting from a dolphin's mouth into a small pool. Across from the pool were some steps on which knelt several priests in their blue robes. To one side a group of women were giggling, pointing over to Johnny and Clara. The steps led up to a platform and, at its center, a woman with straight black hair wearing a gold dress reclined on a huge couch. She was stroking a black cat while bronzed men wafted palm fronds to keep her cool.

The woman saw Mestor approaching and waved an arm to summon him closer. The priest tapped his staff twice on the ground and the pool in front of him became solid. He walked straight across, followed a little gingerly by Johnny and Clara. Mestor stopped at the foot of the steps and Johnny and Clara halted either side of him. The priest bowed low, leaving his staff on the ground so both hands were free to push Johnny and Clara's heads downward.

“Mestor,” said the woman. “What have you brought me?” Johnny heard the change from Universal to another language
that he knew Clara wouldn't be able understand and must, he assumed, be Atlantean.

“My Queen,” replied the priest, not raising his eyes toward the woman. “The Senator sends you children … Terran children, in his place.”

“The Senator is coming later as originally planned—we heard from him a short time ago. Why this interruption now?” asked the Queen.

“They arrived on a ship bearing his signal—it seemed appropriate to receive them,” replied Mestor.

“Perhaps the Senator did send them but that did not mean you had to deliver them. It may be he insults me,” said the Queen. “They could have been disposed of … sent to the mines.”

“My Queen,” said Mestor. “The children passed through the arch … both of them. We are told only the gods may do that.”

“Do they look like gods to you, Mestor?” the Queen snapped.

“Of course not, my Queen,” replied the priest.

“Still … it is interesting,” said the woman. “Perhaps you were right. We should discover their trickery. There may be more to them than meets the eye. They are dreadfully fair … and they wear the clothing of Melania.”

“Their ship had suffered heavy damage. It hardly looked spaceworthy,” said Mestor.

“I will keep them for now—until we know more,” said the Queen. “Let them approach.”

“Behold Neith,” said Mestor, now speaking Universal. “Queen of Atlantis, Ruler of the Terran Dominions and Keeper of the Diaquant. You may approach.”

Johnny and Clara climbed the steps, picking their way between the prostrate bodies of blue-robed priests. They reached the top and stood silently in front of Neith. Clara curtseyed. The Queen sat up and placed the cat to one side. Neith studied the two of
them for a moment while the cat arched its back and jumped softly down from the couch. “Well aren't you two just the most delightful little things?” said Neith. “So unusual … so pretty.” The cat brushed against Johnny's legs. He wondered if it would be right to stroke it. “And look,” said the Queen. “Auf likes you too. But if you are going to stay around my temple we must get you out of those horrid Melanian clothes and into something more becoming. What's your name, my pretty?” she asked, looking at Clara, who told her. “An unusual name for an unusual girl, I'm sure,” said the Queen. “Go with my ladies in waiting. They will find something that suits you better.” The Queen gestured to the women gathered on the steps, Clara curtseyed again and walked across. The ladies in waiting crowded around her and started touching her hair and clothes curiously, as though she were a doll. Johnny was impressed at Clara's restraint. “And what is your name, my boy?” Neith asked Johnny.

“I'm called Johnny, Your Majesty,” he replied. “Johnny Mackintosh.”

“Well, Johnny Mackintosh. The only males I normally allow in my temple are priests. You must go with Mestor and let him look after you. There is a feast later. You shall join me in the Hall of Ancestors and dine with my guests.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Johnny, bowing.

The Queen clapped her hands and spoke again in Atlantean. “Treat them well but find out why the Senator has sent them.” The cat jumped back onto the couch and Neith picked it up and held it in front of her face. “We will learn his plans, won't we Auf?” she said to it.

“Come,” said Mestor. “We will find you robes.” Johnny caught Clara's eye and shrugged for a moment before he was led away by the priest in the opposite direction from which they'd come.

Johnny spent the afternoon being fitted with the same blue robes that the other priests had been wearing and refusing all attempts to apply make-up to his face to darken his skin. He'd been taken to a small chamber with a square pool in its middle and sunlight streaming in through a clear, domed roof that reflected off the water's surface. When a dolphin appeared briefly in the pool, Johnny wondered if it might be connected to the canal outside. Mestor was called away into another room and Johnny sat down on a wooden chair, pulled out his games console and signaled to Alf. The Spirit of London, Chancellor Gronack and the dinosaurs were apparently OK and had been left alone, although the soldiers and their fighters still ringed the ship. Johnny noticed that Alf winced when discussing his visit to the dinodeck and his suit was now looking a little battered. Sol was busy repairing her hull and assured him there would be no permanent damage but hoped not to be put through anything similar again. Johnny heard a noise and switched his console off, stowing it quickly inside his new robes. When he looked around it was to see that the dolphin had re-entered the chamber. Relieved, Johnny knelt down by the water's edge and the animal swam across to him, lifting its bottle-nose out of the pool toward Johnny's face.

“Hello,” said Johnny, smiling at the creature and gently stroking the top of its head.

The dolphin broke away, swam round in a circle whistling what sounded like “Nesaea” and spouting water from its blowhole.

“Is Nesaea your name?” Johnny asked. The dolphin moved its bottle-nose up and down rapidly. “Hi Nesaea, I'm Johnny,” he said, stroking the dolphin's head again.

“You're very young to be a priest,” said Nesaea so quickly in a high-pitched voice that Johnny almost missed it. The dolphin wheeled away again and whistled “Nesaea” as she swam around the small pool.

“I'm not a priest,” laughed Johnny.

“My pod tells me you passed through the old arch—so are you a god?” clicked Nesaea, as rapidly as before.

“No I'm just a boy,” Johnny replied, flicking a handful of water at the dolphin. With the swish of a flipper Nesaea soaked Johnny back and made a noise that might have been laughter.

“Take care, man child—better to bask in warm waters than the cold gaze of Neith,” clicked Nesaea in her high-pitched voice.

BOOK: Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London
5.06Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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