Star Blaze (41 page)

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Authors: Keith Mansfield

BOOK: Star Blaze
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Exasperated by the hopeless device, Johnny kicked the plinth. He had to do a double take. The viewer wasn't useless after all—it could see through time. He was now watching himself running around the border of the lake, just as he'd done
a few minutes earlier. He'd never seen himself sprinting before and it was, frankly, embarrassing. He couldn't believe no one in the football team or Mr. Davenport had said anything—he ran like a girl. He made a mental note to work on his style if he ever got back to Earth.

An idea came to him, almost too incredible to contemplate. For just a moment, all his fears about the Sun and Earth left him as he dared wonder if he could look more than just a few minutes back through time. What if he might be able to see his parents? What if that was the real reason his mum had built this here? Johnny concentrated on his mum and dad. In the thought chamber, his past self had reached the crystal grotto and was running toward its center—what was odd was that now he could also see another version of himself standing by the plinth. His past self stopped right behind the projection of him now—this couldn't be right. Johnny turned round. There, right in front of him, was …
him
. It wasn't the same as standing before his own reflection—his face looked the wrong way round—but then he normally saw himself in a mirror rather than in real life. His other self reached out a hand as if to shake.

“Are we allowed to touch?” asked Johnny. Alf had warned him of the dangers of seeing yourself when time traveling and Johnny had read loads of science fiction stories that warned of instant mutual annihilation if you had any physical contact with your double. The particular version of himself standing with his arm outstretched nodded—Johnny took the hand that was offered. The next thing he knew, the other Johnny had pulled him forward while kneeing him in the groin. He bent over in a mixture of pain and shock, but was then knocked off balance by a punch on the ear. As he fell, he was still looking behind unable to grasp why his double was acting like this. Too late he saw a particularly thick spike of blue crystal which met his skull with a dull thud. He lay on the ground, dazed and trying to come to
terms with how much his head hurt and exactly what was happening. When he rolled over, the last thing he saw was the other Johnny wielding the broken off shard of crystal in both hands, like a baseball bat. He brought it crashing down, with a sickening crunch, on the bridge of Johnny's nose.

Somebody nearby was humming classical music, but stopped when Johnny groaned. His broken nose throbbed like never before, his throat was sore from swallowing warm blood and his head was being squeezed by something stuck on top of it that felt as if it was burrowing into his brain. For the first time in his life, he could feel movement inside his skull. His hands had been tied to something sharp and solid behind him, while his ankles were also bound together. Opening his eyes, he found himself propped up against one of the crystal growths facing the other version of himself, who was sporting an ugly smile.

“We meet at last, Johnny Mackintosh,” said the figure facing him.

“I don't understand,” said Johnny. “Who are you?”

“Of course you don't understand,” the other boy replied. “Because you're so dumb. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm you.”

“But … how? Why?” Johnny asked.

His double kicked him quite hard. “That's for making Alisha break up with me,” he said.

“Alisha? Alisha Leow?” None of this was making any sense whatsoever. “Do I go out with her in the future? But she's horrid.”

“You still don't get it, do you?” said the other Johnny, kicking him again. “I'm not you from the future or the past. I'm you now. While you've been flying around the galaxy, who else do you think has been living at Halader House, going to your school and playing that stupid football you think you're so good
at? And now I'm going to kill you and fully take your place. That thing on your head—it's recording your memories.” The double pointed to some images, flickering inside the nearby dome. “Soon we'll know everything you know and then your pathetic excuse for a life can be over.”

From where he was tied up, Johnny could see only a little of the thought chamber, but the projections inside were so familiar he still recognized them. Playing out backward, was the scene the
Calida Lucia
had reconstructed from Sol's dreams, with Johnny, Bram and Clara as spectators on the
Spirit of London
's lifeless bridge. A figure in the captain's chair had just ordered Sol to self-destruct. “
You
tried to kill Sol,” said Johnny. The anger he felt was clearing his senses. “It wasn't Erin—it wasn't me.
You
programmed the self-destruct.”

The figure facing Johnny began a slow clap. “Ladies and gentleman—I do believe we have a winner. Penny's beginning to drop, is it? I don't know who Erin is—but I'll soon find out,” he said tapping his head to indicate the device on top of Johnny's. “I was only doing you a favor—that must be the ugliest spaceship anyone's ever built. But I guess I'll just have to get used to it.”

Johnny growled—he'd never been so angry. He fought to get to his feet, but the cords holding him were too tight.

His double laughed. “Is ickle Johnny upset about his ickle spaceship?” He kicked Johnny again, before examining the contraption around Johnny's head. “Don't worry—you won't have to cry about your precious Gherkin much longer. I think we're nearly done—knew there wouldn't be much in that tiny brain of yours.”

“How is this possible?” asked Johnny. He was completely helpless. The only thing he could think of was to play for time and keep the impostor talking.

It was a different, older voice, standing behind him, that
answered. “Because, little brother, I cloned you.” Nymac stepped forward, dressed all in black, the bright light shining from the mask which covered nearly half his face. “It wasn't my idea—it was my master's. And, as I see now, quite brilliant. After we accelerated the growth, I left my new Johnny Mackintosh in the hands of the Krun to complete his education. I think we can agree he's fitted in very well.”

“Mr. Wilkins helped too,” said the other Johnny. “I'd have hated that place without him—and your bedroom's a pigsty.”

The world Johnny thought he'd been living in for the last few months was crashing around his ears. If he didn't do anything, he knew he'd be dead soon. Maybe, even at this stage, he could reach his real brother. “Nicky,” he said urgently. “I know you're in there somewhere. You've got to fight him. We can still help each other—we're family.”

“Yes, I admit that we are, but I made a new brother, you see,” said Nymac. “And I'm sorry to disappoint you, but Nicky's gone forever. He had his uses—getting closer to you being the main one—but he's history. I was always in control.”

“I don't believe you,” said Johnny.

“No—you just don't
want
to believe me. I adapted his silly device to turn you into my spy. He didn't know it, but he even helped me clone you—that day we first met. His finest hour.”

“The mosquito,” said Johnny, remembering the annoying insect that had settled on his arm and drawn blood. Now he was used to them, but back when he first went to meet Nicky he'd not come across miniature flying machines like little bugs.

“He's definitely catching on,” said Nymac to the other Johnny, who smiled back.

Johnny tried rubbing the ropes holding him against the crystal support, but he knew it would take far too long to free himself.

“You had your chance,” Nymac said to him. “If you, too, had
been willing to serve, I have no doubt my master would have let us rule this galaxy together.” Johnny rolled his eyes while the figure in black continued, “Who would not be interested in such an opportunity? Yet that headpiece you're wearing is the closest you'll ever come to a crown. Now I have the genes,” he went on, turning to Johnny's double, “but without the wishy-washy attitude.”

“Bram will stop you,” said Johnny, but it was hard to form the words, as though his brain was slowing down. Projected into the thought chamber behind Nymac, he saw the carpet of a familiar but long-forgotten child's bedroom. He was hiding under the bed with Bentley beside him.

“I don't see your precious Emperor now,” said Nymac, turning three hundred and sixty degrees while pretending to look around. “Oh—there he is!” he said, pointing to behind the post to which Johnny was tied.

For just a second Johnny wondered if there was hope, but then both his double and Nymac began to laugh.

“Ah—we seem to be finished,” said Nymac, gazing into the nearby, now empty, dome. “Or rather, you do,” he added, turning to Johnny with a cruel smile. He touched something on the side of Johnny's head, there was a whirring noise and Johnny felt dozens of needles withdrawing from inside his skull. As they retracted, air rushed into the holes, like hundreds of miniature daggers stabbing his brain.

“You don't get to be king after all,” said Nicky, holding up the crown of strange metal, inlaid all along the inside with hundreds of spikes of varying lengths, some up to several centimeters, all of them dripping with blood. Johnny felt sick—it looked like something from a medieval torture chamber.

“Let me have it,” said Johnny's double, greedily reaching for the headpiece.

Nymac held it away from the impostor's grasp. “This is not
for you, little brother,” he said. “I have not gone to the trouble of making you, only to give you the memories of the Emperor's puppet here. Gain those and you might become him.”

The clone didn't look happy, but withdrew his hand. “He said something about an Erin—he might be important—you should find out. And there's his girlfriend too.”

“Yes—I have wondered about her,” said Nymac. “Often, I see her face through my little spy camera. You two have become close.”

“What are you talking about?” said Johnny. “I don't have a girlfriend.” He was still rubbing his ropes against the pillar behind. The crystal was cutting into the skin around his wrists, but he could feel a few of the strands breaking—if only he had more time.

“I'd be embarrassed, too, if I was going out with that,” said the double. “What's her name? Clara?”

“Clara?” said Johnny as another strand broke. “She's my sister, durr-brain.” At once he regretted saying it, but he couldn't suck the words back into his mouth.

“I have a sister,” said the clone, a stupid grin spreading across his face.

Johnny wanted to tell him that of course he didn't—that he was making it up—but Nymac had bent down so close that Johnny could feel the hot breath on his face. His brother was looking furiously into Johnny's eyes.

“Sister?” said Nymac. “What do you mean, sister? Why did I know nothing of this?”

“Probably because the Krun took her education in hand too,” said Johnny. “Like durr-brain behind you.”

“Liar!” shouted Nymac. “It's not possible.”

“She went to their Proteus Institute,” Johnny replied, as calmly as he could. He might be able to stay alive a little longer if he could turn Nymac's anger on the Krun. “Perhaps Bugface
… the one called Stevens … forgot to tell you?”

“How dare he hide this from me? He goes too far—it is the last time,” said Nicky. A vein in his forehead was throbbing and looked as if it might burst. He stood up, turned to the clone and said, “Finish him and take his shuttle back to his ship. I shall return to the
Astricida
at once and see if this is true.”

“General,” said the clone, who'd backed away from Nymac as he'd turned angry. “I understand if you won't give me the memories, but might I borrow your blaster?”

“Didn't you see the Vermalcasts?” shouted Nymac. “Or are you an inferior copy with mush for brains?” The clone looked frightened as Johnny's brother went on, “He has a personal shield—that's why I told you not to shoot him in the first place.”

“Not any more, he doesn't,” said the other Johnny, reaching underneath his tunic and pulling out a golden chain with the gold and crystal locket sparkling at the end of it. “Now it's mine.”

“That doesn't belong to you,” said Johnny, working even harder. How dare the impostor steal this link to his parents? More strands snapped behind his back. He was nearly there.

“You have redeemed yourself, brother,” said Nymac to the double. “Your time has come—the first great purpose for which you were born. Indeed you may take my gun—you are right not to leave anything to chance.” The figure in black removed a weapon from a pouch built into his body armor and handed it to the clone. “The act of taking a life is a doorway through which only the strongest can pass. But once they do, the rewards are without equal.” Nymac's smile was twisted and terrible. “Bring his ship and rendezvous with the fleet when you are done. When you are truly Johnny Mackintosh.”

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