Star Blaze (20 page)

“Course not.”

“So tell me your ‘long story.'”

Johnny began with meeting Captain Valdour and hearing about the supernova on Alpha Centauri. The smile left the Emperor's face and his eyes dulled, as though he was reliving the horror first hand. Bram knew of the Star Blaze and said this was precisely why he wouldn't wage all-out war within the Milky Way. Johnny described his last attempt to make contact through the mini Wormhole, and being rebuffed by Chancellor Karragon—Bram assured him it would not happen again. Johnny hesitated, deciding against mentioning the mysterious message from Nicky next. He didn't want to give the Emperor, who had much more serious things to worry about, the idea he was being reckless and had gone to such a potentially dangerous rendezvous. Instead he skipped straight to the plan to visit Melania and ask for some ships, describing the audience with the Regent, being taken into the bunker beneath the Senate House and meeting the Owlessan Monks. Bram nodded and made the right noises in the proper places, but didn't interrupt.

Then it was onto the return trip, telling how Sol detected a distress signal and coming out of the fold, how they saw the freighters destroyed but were able to rescue the sailing ship. Bram showed no interest in Erin and Zeta, so Johnny carried on with the story. He'd just reached the point when the
Astricida
had unfolded beside the
Spirit of London
when someone began hammering on the trapdoor that led into the attic room.

“Someone's here,” Johnny whispered, not knowing if he could be overheard outside of the Wormhole. “I've got to go.”

“I will come to Earth,” was Bram's response, “as soon as can be arranged. I know you are unlikely to follow my advice, but be careful, Johnny.”

The banging began again and an American woman's voice called, “Johnny? Are you in there, Johnny?”

“Sorry,” was Johnny's final word to the Emperor, before coming out of the Wormhole, which felt just like pulling a tight jumper over his head. He sat back on his bed, blinking in the bright sunlight. “Come in,” said Johnny, loud enough that his social worker would hear.

The trapdoor lifted and the top half of Miss Harutunian appeared in the room, wearing a green sweatshirt. “Who were you talking to?” she asked, still only halfway through the door. “And what has happened to your hair?”

“Er … Bentley,” said Johnny, while using both hands to flatten down his sticking up blond strands. Even he knew he didn't sound convincing.

From her position, only waist high into the room, at least the social worker could see the Old English sheepdog, curled up beside the radiator. “Humph,” she said, glaring between the dog and Johnny. “How did you get back here so quickly?” she asked as she climbed awkwardly through the opening and marched over to Johnny's bedside. Her trousers matched the sweatshirt top. “
I've
only just stepped off the plane.”

“What do you mean?” Johnny replied, trying to sound innocent, but feeling his face flush bright red in betrayal, even as the words were leaving his mouth.

“I saw you! You were in New York yesterday.”

“I don't think so,” said Johnny, wondering how he'd get out of this one. He hated lying to Miss Harutunian, but he could hardly tell her the truth. She'd never looked this disappointed with him before and was leaning over him, arms folded, a frown on her face.

“Well, when you've finished thinking, why don't we go and see the Manager?”

Johnny was used to Mr. Wilkins dragging him through the Halader House corridors for an appointment with doom, but it was the first ever time Miss Harutunian had wanted to do the same. She was rapidly losing her status as his favorite social worker. “Now?” Johnny asked. “What about school?”

“I hadn't noticed this concern for your education before. Yes, now.”

“OK,” he said, getting to his feet.

He followed the American down the spiral staircase beneath his room, dragging his feet along the first-floor corridor that led to Mrs. Irvine's office. He was still wondering how on earth he was going to talk his way out of this one when he discovered they were already in front of the dreaded wooden door. Three loud knocks were answered from the other side by the familiar Glaswegian accent. Miss Harutunian turned the brass handle and ushered Johnny inside, before closing the door after them.

“Ah, Katherine,” said Mrs. Irvine from behind her large wooden desk, silhouetted by the light streaming in from her floor-to-ceiling window. “Welcome back. Did you have a good holiday?”

“It was … interesting,” Miss Harutunian replied. “No more so than when I spotted Johnny here on Lexington Avenue.”

“Lexington … Lexington,” said the Manager, thinking aloud. “The one behind the bus station, just past Marks and Spencer?”

“No, Mrs. Irvine, it's behind Grand Central Terminal … in the middle of Manhattan.”

“Oh,” replied the manager.

“Oh, indeed,” said the social worker. Johnny just stood there feeling about a foot tall, but squeezed his eyes tightly shut and concentrated all his efforts on the thought, “It wasn't me.” He wondered if he could project it into the brains of the other two
in the room.

“Jonathan,” said Mrs. Irvine. “Remember I've been responsible for you since you came here as a two year old. You can trust me and Miss Harutunian. Do you have anything you want to tell us?”

The thought transference clearly wasn't working. “It wasn't me,” he replied, opening his eyes. Maybe it would work if he said the words out loud?

“C'mon, Johnny—I saw you clear as you're standing here now. Your nose looked all broken and there was blood on your face.”

“But my nose is fine,” said Johnny, seizing on the unexpected lifeline. “Feel it.” He took hold of his social worker's wrist and placed it onto his face.

“Well it doesn't
feel
damaged, I admit,” she said, sounding unsure for the first time.

“Are you saying you're not certain, Katherine?” asked Mrs. Irvine, as she stood up from her chair. “Perhaps Jonathan has a double? I must say, somewhat unusually, Mr. Wilkins hasn't complained once in your absence.” Turning to Johnny she said, “It appears you've finally won him over.”

Johnny let out a sigh of relief. The cook must have been so glad to be rid of Johnny that he'd clearly not bothered reporting him missing to the Manager.

“What about the school?” asked Miss Harutunian. Johnny felt this was below the belt—his social worker loathed Mrs. Devonshire every bit as much as he did.

“Unusually good reports,” replied the Manager.

Johnny made a mental note to thank Kovac for doing such a good job with the computer records.

“Well, of course I'm delighted to hear that,” said Miss Harutunian through gritted teeth. “Tell you what, Johnny. As it's almost time, why don't I walk you up there myself?”

It was the end of lunch break before Johnny sneaked away from Castle Dudbury Comprehensive School. He'd been having a kickabout in the yard outside the science block, but when the bell went he had no desire to stay for a biology lesson on cloning followed by double chemistry. Instead, he made sure he was out of sight behind an old tractor, fixed into concrete at the far edge of the playground and used his wristcom to ask Clara to create a fold so he could escape.

Alf hadn't looked at all pleased with Clara (or her brother for encouraging her), when Johnny suddenly appeared through an archway into the strategy room on deck 14. When she created another fold to bring Bentley back to the ship from Halader House, the android was apoplectic. It was only when Johnny explained he'd spoken with Bram and that everything was going to be OK, that the android became distracted, given news of an imminent Imperial visit to Earth. Straightaway, Alf embarked on a mission to spruce up the
Spirit of London
and make her “fit for the Emperor” much to everyone's (especially Sol's) annoyance. The android's whirlwind scrubbing of what looked to Johnny like spotless floors and his polishing of the already gleaming metal (Alf claimed Johnny left his fingerprints everywhere) began in the bridge and continued all the way down to the shuttle deck.

With a visit from Bram due any time, Johnny's immediate fears for the Sun and Earth receded and life could return a little more to normal. Over the next week, he spent much of the time wandering the
Spirit of London
thinking about Nicky. He needed a way of locating his long-lost brother, but that wouldn't help without some way of freeing him from the Nameless One's
control. Even more pressing was finding a way of telling Clara about him before things dragged on any longer—he found himself rehearsing numerous conversations in his head, while sitting atop the big rock in the middle of the garden deck, but whenever he saw his sister the words he wanted dried up.

Wherever he went, Johnny seemed to bump into Zeta who was keen to explore the ship, and had worked wonders with all the plants on the hydroponics decks and especially in the garden. Erin, however, spent all his time shut away onboard his silver hulled, solar-sailing ship. So it was quite a surprise when, a few days later, the boy king stormed onto the bridge shouting, once again, that Johnny had betrayed them and demanding to be returned home before the Emperor's arrival which, “The robot has only just told me all about.”

“Listen,” said Johnny. “I'm sorry we've not been able to take you straight home after saving your lives and all that, but we'll go as soon as we can.”

“That's not soon enough,” Erin replied, his forked tongue flickering a little way out of his mouth.

Clara stepped forward saying, “You're so desperate to get back, I don't understand why you ever left in the first place.”

Erin's reptilian eyes narrowed even further on her, before they returned to Johnny. “Don't make me wait too long or you, the ship and your annoying, commoner sister will be sorry.” Before Johnny could reply the boy king did an about-turn and disappeared into the lift shaft.

Clara perched next to Johnny on the arm of his chair. “He tried to take over when you weren't here,” she said.

“What happened?”

“I folded him away,” she replied, with a slight shrug. “I nearly left him there—he was trying to do stuff to Sol.”

“You OK, Sol?” Johnny asked, raising his voice a little to speak to the ship.

“I believe I am undamaged, though a little disturbed,” Sol replied. “I do not believe it is down to Erin, but I have been running diagnostic subroutines to identify any problems.”

“Let me know if you find anything,” said Johnny. Then, to Clara, he added, “If he does it again, leave him in there.”

“Don't worry,” she replied. “I've been practicing my Klein fold in case General Nymac comes back for you.”

Johnny smiled weakly and, before he could engage brain, found the words, “Good idea,” come from his mouth. It had been the perfect opportunity to tell Clara about Nicky and he'd bottled it. Before he could call her back, his sister had folded herself off the bridge.