Battle for Earth (4 page)

Johnny, Alf and Bentley joined a clearly unhappy Clara at the foot of the
Spirit of London
. As Johnny stepped out of the antigrav shaft, he slapped the three-meter-tall statue of the silver alien for luck. The group passed through the revolving doors leading out of the ship and into a little square, where they smiled at the security guards in their blue uniforms,
climbed a few steps and entered a London taxi conveniently parked nearby. This was no ordinary black cab.

The
Bakerloo
was one of the
Spirit of London
's shuttlecraft, small ships capable of short-range and suborbital journeys. Located on deck 2 of the main spacecraft was another, larger shuttle called the
Piccadilly
, cleverly disguised as a red double-decker bus and, parked alongside it, glistened an Imperial Starfighter—a special gift from the Emperor. That was Johnny's favorite, partly because it looked so streamlined and perfect, but also because it was lightning quick and highly maneuverable, though he was pleased he'd never had to fight a real battle in it. Of course he also loved flying the
Bakerloo
, but it was Alf who reached the pilot's seat first.

The shuttlecraft used advanced mind-control technology—you simply had to think of your intended destination and the ship would respond. Packed full of all manner of sensory apparatus, if you merged your mind fully with the craft, you could see, hear and smell for miles. When he flew it himself, Johnny felt as if he was almost becoming the
Bakerloo
, though he couldn't help thinking the journey was a lot more clunky when Alf was at the helm.

Being a weekend, the City was nearly deserted, but it was still so full of CCTV cameras it took a few minutes before the
Bakerloo
confirmed they were not being observed and Alf could think,
Shields on
. Instantly the sides of the shuttle shimmered and disappeared around them and, just a fraction of a second later, the android, Clara, Bentley and Johnny himself also vanished. Next, Johnny felt his stomach lurch as the now invisible craft shot skyward at tremendous speed and the Old English sheepdog, who loved nothing better than flying, slathered a long, wet invisible tongue all across Johnny's similarly invisible face.

“Let's tell Louise we're coming,” said Clara's disembodied voice from the front. “We've not seen her for ages.”

“Great idea,” Johnny replied. Louise was the pretty older girl who lived in Yarnton Hill and who'd broken into the Proteus Institute with him. Just as he'd hoped to find Clara, Louise had been looking for her neighbor, Peter Dalrymple. Taken prisoner by the Krun and held on an alien base near Neptune, the poor girl had gotten more than she'd bargained for. Johnny and Clara had eventually rescued her. Of course he'd invited her to stay on board the
Spirit of London
, but Louise seemed keen to keep her feet on the ground and had returned home.

Clara messaged Louise, hoping to see her (very) soon. Far faster than any supersonic jet, the shuttle was already descending and it wasn't long before they saw the surface of the road coming ever closer, whizzing by directly beneath Johnny's invisible feet. At the very last second, the shuttle reappeared around him (and himself and the other passengers with it), becoming like an ordinary, if slightly out of place, London taxi. It touched down with a slight skid as they passed a road sign indicating that Yarnton Hill village was three miles down a road to the left. When they rounded the next bend a familiar valley came into view.

Perched on one side was the long-since abandoned Proteus Institute for the Gifted, a red-brick, four-story building dominated by a square central tower. “Oh dear,” said Alf as they reached the beginning of the tall wire fence that ran along the side of the road, barring entry to the institute's grounds. “Kovac has asked me to inform Miss Clara that her hypothesis was mistaken.”

“What are you talking about now?” snapped Clara.

“Please do not shoot the messenger,” said the android. “I have been informed that the amphibian has reached, but then passed, the Proteus Institute and is continuing on his journey.”

“To where?” asked Clara, before the shuttle and its occupants vanished again and Johnny felt himself rise upward, like a bird soaring on the wind.

“That, I suppose,” Alf replied, “is something we shall have to wait to find out.”

They didn't have to wait long. The tracer signal soon stopped, this time in Yarnton Hill itself, and Alf parked the
Bakerloo
close to the train station at one end of the small town. Trying to home in on the exact location of the trace was difficult, so they split up with Johnny and Bentley going in one direction and Alf and Clara in the other. Using their own wrist-based communicators (or wristcoms), they would soon be able to triangulate a proper fix on the amphibian boy, wherever he was.

Trying to appear inconspicuous—never easy with an Old English sheepdog by your side—Johnny was walking along a parade of shops when he heard another dog bark behind.

“Guess who?” said a girl's voice as a pair of soft hands were placed over his eyes. Johnny spun around and was immediately smothered by the long curly brown hair of a tall girl with lots of matching brown freckles. She kissed him on the cheek before pulling away and saying, “What are you doing here?” He felt his face going red as Louise dropped to her knees and said, “And Bentley too.” She started fussing the sheepdog, who was more interested in sniffing Rusty, her red setter.

“Clara sent you a message,” said Johnny, kneeling down beside her and whispering as he stroked Rusty. “You remember those things we saw at the institute—the ones in the tanks?”

Louise nodded seriously.

“Well, one of them's here,” Johnny went on. “We've split up to get a fix on its location.”

“Clara's here too?” asked Louise.

Johnny's wristcom beeped. “That's her now,” he said as his sister's face appeared at the center of the dial. Quickly Johnny established the details. “They have him cornered on Station Street,” he told Louise. “What's the quickest way?”

“Follow me,” she said, already on her feet and running. “That's where I live.”

Johnny chased after her and soon drew level, with both dogs bounding along beside them. They turned a corner and saw Clara and Alf up ahead. Sprinting, they joined the others outside a pair of large semidetached houses that shared a drive, ending in a circular section of pavement before two adjacent front doors. Louise bent forward, panting, her hands on her knees and her cheeks turning very red. “This is … my … freakin' … house,” she said between gulps of air.

“The creature is standing at the end of the driveway,” said Alf.

“Wow. He can really blend in, like in Trafalgar Square,” said Clara.

Johnny stared very hard, but saw nothing until there was clear movement toward them. A little nervously, the strange amphibian was edging up the drive. Rusty began barking furiously.

“Oh my god, it's Peter,” said Louise. She opened the gate to move toward him when a green bolt of energy zapped from the sky and struck the boy, sending him sprawling to the pavement unconscious. Louise screamed as a black sphere landed in the very center of the driveway, firing in her direction.

Johnny dragged her to the ground just in time and looked up to see the energy beams pass overhead and slice a nearby tree in two. He shouted, “Clara, get us out of here.”

An archway opened right behind Peter's slimy green body. Johnny could see the
Spirit of London
's bridge on the other side. He got to his feet, pulling Louise up with him and with
Alf and Clara not far behind, but the fold closed before any of them could reach it. The garden wall and paved drive began to distort, bending impossibly, sending him and Louise crashing to the ground. Four figures, men dressed in the dark suits typical of the Krun in human form, emerged from the sphere. Two of them collected the amphibian's limp body and started back to their shuttle while Johnny lay helpless. The other two pointed powerful blasters at him and Louise. Instantly Bentley and Rusty leapt through the air, knocking both Krun to the ground and clamping their jaws around the aliens' arms. The other Krun disappeared inside their ship, taking Peter with them.

“Master Johnny,” Alf shouted, “Miss Clara has fainted. We must return to the
Bakerloo
.” The android picked Clara up as though she weighed less than a feather and ran down the street toward the parked shuttle.

The black sphere lifted into the air without its remaining two crew, who looked up horrified while still trying to ward off the dogs. More bolts of energy shot from the Krun ship, silhouetting the aliens in an aura of glowing energy. Bentley and Rusty jumped away as, for a fleeting second, the abandoned Kruns' true form was revealed—long fly-like snouts topped by huge insects' eyes, and each with four elongated arms, flailing wildly as though trying to stop the firing. Then their bodies vanished. The Krun never left traces behind, even if it meant killing their own.

Johnny knew he and Louise would be next—there was no cover to hide behind—but then the
Bakerloo
materialized, hovering between him and the alien sphere, its doors open. He practically threw Louise inside, and Bentley and Rusty jumped in after her. As an energy bolt sailed just past him, Johnny dived through the open door and the black London taxi wheeled away into the air, fading from sight and taking them out of danger.

Having witnessed what had happened to her former next-door neighbor, Louise was anything but her normal breezy self. The signal from Peter's tracker had vanished, which didn't help. Meanwhile Clara lay unconscious in sickbay, running a frighteningly high temperature. With Alf and Louise taking it in turns to look after her Johnny felt surplus to requirements, but he couldn't bear being elsewhere in the ship, not knowing what was going on. He sat out of the way, watching his sister tossing from side to side and listening to her delirious ramblings about the Twyfords, the couple who'd raised her. He wondered what it must have been like to grow up not knowing a thing about your proper family.

It was several hours before her fever began to ease and she opened her eyes. Louise was mopping her forehead, but Clara called her brother over to the bedside. Her eyes appeared darker than normal and a fleeting look of desperation flickered across her face.

“What went wrong?” she asked.

“It was when you tried folding,” said Johnny. “You passed out.”

“You're saying I can't control my folds?” Clara snorted, lifting her head and trying to force a laugh.

He didn't know how to respond. “Look—maybe Alf's right,” was the best he could do. “Take a break from it. Have a rest.”

“It's Sunday night,” said Clara, sounding exasperated. “I have to get you to Halader House.” At the end of every weekend Johnny's sister would open a gateway direct to his attic bedroom in the children's home so he could prepare for school the next day.

“It's all right,” said Johnny. “I think it's best if I stay here and keep an eye on my little sister. I'm sure Alf will write me a note.”

“Don't you dare,” said Clara. “It's soccer practice on Mondays—you have that big tournament coming up. If you miss training you'll be moaning all week.”

Johnny was relieved his sister was beginning to sound a little more like her normal self. “OK,” he said, smiling. She knew his timetable better than he did. “I'll go, but I'll take the
Bakerloo
. No more folding space for the next few days … promise?”

“We'll see,” she said, turning away. The conversation seemed to have sapped her strength. Clara put her head back down and fell instantly asleep.

“Don't worry, she'll be fine,” said Louise, whose own mind looked to be on other things.

“You mustn't worry either,” Johnny replied. “We're going to find Peter.” He knew neither of them could be certain they were telling the truth.