Warlord's Revenge Read online

  First published in 2013 by Curious Fox,

  an imprint of Capstone Global Library Limited,

  7 Pilgrim Street, London, EC4V 6LB

  Registered company number: 6695582

  www.curious-fox.com

  Text © Hothouse Fiction Ltd 2013

  Series created by Hothouse Fiction

  www.hothousefiction.com

  The author’s moral rights are hereby asserted.

  Cover Illustration by Dani Geremia

  All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  ISBN 978 1 78202 009 7

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  A CIP catalogue for this book is available from the British Library.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means (including photocopying or storing it in any medium by electronic means and whether or not transiently or incidentally to some other use of this publication) without the written permission of the copyright owner.

  ebook created by Hothouse Fiction Ltd

  With special thanks to Martin Howard

  Chapter 1

  John Riley reeled backwards, as a heavy punch smashed into his face. He slammed into the side of the fight cage, causing the metal fence to rattle. Rising to his feet with difficulty, he grimaced at his opponent. “Nice move, Kaal,” he said. He checked himself over. His armour was battered and torn; one arm hung useless by his side. His power was down to ten per cent, and his health was used up.

  The fight was going badly.

  The crowd roared, crying out for more. John looked up at the flashing scoreboard. Kaal was leading by eight points, with less than fifteen seconds until the end of the match. John needed a knockout to win. Staggering, he launched himself at his best friend, his remaining fist pulled back for a massive blow.

  Kaal’s great leathery wings snapped out. “Come on, then, tiny Earthling!” he yelled. His wings beat the air, and he flew to the top of the cage.

  John’s fist met nothing but empty air. Nervously, he looked up. The diving attack was one of Kaal’s favourites. It was totally devastating.

  If he catches me...

  As the green alien dropped, face grinning in demonic glee, John kicked away from the ground. With a shout of “Anti-grav!” he soared into the air, spinning. An unexpected mid-air roundhouse kick crunched into Kaal’s chest.

  “Ooof!” grunted the Derrilian, falling backwards.

  John crashed into the fight cage, using it to kick off back towards Kaal. “Power strike!” he yelled. An armoured fist, blazing white light, crunched into his friend’s jaw, throwing him back. “Gotcha!” John yelled, laughing. “Crushed like a bug, Riley-styley.”

  Wings hanging limp, Kaal slid down the bars, landing in a heap on the floor.

  “KNOCKOUT!” a huge voice bellowed. “JOHN RILEY WINS WITH THREE SECONDS TO SPARE!”

  Around the cage, thousands of aliens rose from their seats and cheered their approval. Tentacles, hands, claws, and flippers slapped together; shouts of “JOHN! JOHN!” filled the air. Lights flashed. John put one foot on the slumped body of his friend, as a ring of stars and planets spun around Kaal’s head. Roaring in triumph, he raised a glowing fist in triumph.

  “Oh for the love of Sillar, you’re going to be late for breakfast,” said a girl’s voice over the noise of the screaming crowd. “You’re not even dressed yet.”

  Bowing to the vast audience of aliens, John sighed. “Quit Boxogle,” he said. The fight cage and crowd disappeared in a blink, leaving only blackness before his eyes.

  Reaching up, John pulled a close-fitting helmet off his head. “Morning, Emmie.” He grinned at the beautiful golden-skinned girl leaning against the doorframe.

  On the squashy black sofa opposite, Kaal removed his own helmet. He, too, grinned, revealing a mouth full of sharp white fangs. “Good fight,” he said, leaning forwards to high-five John – an Earth custom that had caught on among John’s friends. “That almost hurt. You were lucky, though. I’m going to totally pulverize you in the rematch... Oh, hi Emmie. What time is it?”

  By the door, Emmie Tarz hooked a mane of silvery hair behind a slightly pointed ear. She rolled her navy-blue eyes. “It’s time for you to get out of virtual reality and into reality reality,” she said. “I can’t believe you’re playing Boxogle at this time of the morning. Class starts in less than half an hour and you’re still in your pyjamas.”

  “Don’t bother telling them,” said a voice that seemed to come from nowhere. “I have been saying they need to get ready the last twenty minutes. It’s quite useless.” Zepp, the ship’s computer, sounded almost as exasperated as Emmie.

  “Thirty minutes? If we skip breakfast, there’s still plenty of time,” said Kaal, leaning back. “Want a quick game, Emmie?”

  Emmie snorted. “You want your butt kicked twice in one morning, do you?”

  “I must remind you that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and in addition, the Examiners punish lateness with detention,” Zepp said.

  “OK, OK,” said John, jumping up. Hauling a silver and red Hyperspace High jumpsuit out of his locker, he looked over his shoulder. “Come on, Kaal. Unless you’d rather sit in detention than face me in a rematch later.”

  “You wish,” said Kaal, reaching for his own jumpsuit as John headed into the bathroom.

  “Please hurry up. I’m starving,” Emmie muttered.

  A few minutes later the three students were running along a corridor towards the canteen. “There are more important things in life than virtual reality games, you know,” Emmie said, panting.

  “There are?” John shot back. “Like what?”

  “She’s talking some sort of crazy gibberish,” Kaal said, grinning. “There’s nothing more important than virtual reality games... Hey, what on Derril is that?” Kaal skidded to a halt so quickly that John ran into his back.

  “Hey, watch where...” John’s annoyance trailed off as he also found himself glancing out the viewing window.

  “Wow!” gasped Emmie, jogging to a halt beside him. “That’s incredible.”

  John took a step closer to the window. Outlined by stars, an enormous pyramid of shining purple cruised alongside Hyperspace High. Its smooth sides gleamed, looking as if they were made of glass lit from within. Nothing broke the flawless expanse of purple – no sign of engines or any markings. Mysterious and beautiful, the huge pyramid slipped through space, closer and closer to one of the gigantic white wings that housed Hyperspace High’s sensors, force field generators, and hangar decks. The pyramid, however, was far too large to fit inside even Hyperspace High’s cavernous hangars. As John watched, the craft swung to a docking port.

  A faint shudder ran through the deck beneath John’s feet, as the pyramid was joined to the great bulk of Hyperspace High by the huge docking clamps.

  “Whoa,” John said under his breath. “Every time I think I’m getting used to weird space stuff, something even more freaky comes along.”

  He had been at the space school for only half a term. Seven weeks ago one of the teachers had mistaken him for a Martian prince. He had been brought on board by accident – and then nearly thrown out of an airlock into space. The headmaster had stepped in at the last moment, giving him a temporary place as a student. The place had become permanent after John helped his classmates escape an exploding volcano planet.

  Since then, while John’s parents believed he was at a boarding school in Derbyshire, he had fought warrior aliens, flown spaceships at faster-than-light speed, learned to use technologies f
ar beyond anything on Earth, and met bizarre beings from hundreds of different worlds. He had even eaten in a restaurant that only served eyeballs. Strange things had become so commonplace that John often thought he’d be shocked if he weren’t freaked out at least once a day.

  But even with all of this, the pyramid was breathtaking.

  “Is that a spaceship?” John asked, realizing it was a ridiculous question even as he said it. Of course it’s a spaceship, idiot, he told himself. You can tell by the way it flies through space.

  If it was a stupid question, however, neither of his friends seemed to notice.

  “It must be,” breathed Emmie, as they hurried to the canteen. “But I’ve never seen anything like it before, or even heard of a ship like it. And I thought I knew every model in the universe.”

  “We’d better eat fast,” said Kaal, as he pulled a tray from the dispenser in the table. “Hmm, flavworms. I was hoping for klatfingers.”

  John glanced over Kaal’s shoulder as he sat, realizing it was a mistake as soon as he saw the bowl of writhing pink worms. Wrinkling his nose, he tried to ignore Kaal taking his first mouthful and pulled his own tray closer.

  “Ugh, you’ve got those horrible bird bottom things again,” said Emmie in disgust.

  “Eggs. They’re called eggs. And they’re a lot nicer than... than... whatever that disgusting gloop is you’re eating.”

  “It’s Sillaran slurrige,” replied Emmie. “Very tasty and full of healthy goodness. Here, try some.” She held out a spoon overflowing with lumpy goo towards John.

  John rocked back in his chair. “I’ll stick with the eggs, thanks.”

  “So where do you think that ship came from?” asked Kaal, through a mouthful of worms. “Do you think we’re being raided by space pirates?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Kaal,” replied Emmie. “It’s an amazing ship, though. I hope it’s a new model and Jegger’s going to let us fly it.”

  “It’s a lot bigger than a t-dart or a Xi-Class Privateer,” said John doubtfully. The spaceships he’d flown for Space Flight class were tiny compared to the huge pyramid.

  “That’s why it would be so much fun,” said Emmie, waving her spoon about. “Imagine how much power a ship that size must have.” Her eyes glistened with excitement – Emmie was one of Hyperspace High’s top pilots and loved nothing more than trying out a new ship. “Imagine how fast it could go,” she finished.

  “Imagine trying to land it,” John replied. “It’s difficult enough in a t-dart.”

  “Maybe we’ve picked it up because it’s in distress,” Kaal said thoughtfully. “Engine failure or something.”

  “Could be visitors from another universe,” John suggested, putting on a spooky voice. “Aliens from other worlds.” He meant it as a joke and was surprised to see Emmie and Kaal both nod their heads.

  “Could be,” said Emmie. “My dad says the Galactic Fleet occasionally gets reports of unidentified flying objects. Some people think they might be ships from parallel universes or galaxies on the other side of black holes.”

  Kaal nodded. “There are millions of planets with life on them we haven’t discovered yet.”

  John almost choked on a piece of toast. “You mean UFOs?” he gasped. He stared at his friends: Kaal who looked like a huge, green demon, and Emmie with her softly glowing skin and pointy ears. “You believe in aliens?”

  Emmie stared at him. “What’s so funny about that?”

  “On my planet, Hyperspace High would be a UFO. You would be aliens. I’m talking to aliens who believe in aliens!”

  Kaal patted him on the shoulder. “Yes, but your planet is a bit... umm... how can I put this?”

  “Backwards,” said Emmie with a grin.

  “Undeveloped, I was going to say.” Kaal patted John’s shoulder again. “But don’t worry, it should catch up in another ten thousand years or so.”

  John couldn’t help laughing. Everyone on the ship, except the headmaster, seemed to think that the people of Earth were primitive, but he knew his friends were only teasing him. He was about to retort, when a chime rang through the canteen.

  “Uh oh,” said Kaal quickly, shovelling in the last mouthful of flavworms. “Better get going.”

  The pyramid ship forgotten, John jumped to his feet and snatched the bag that contained his ThinScreen. “What have we got this morning anyway? I’ve completely forgotten.”

  “Space Survival,” said Emmie, as they hurried down a corridor. “And we’ve got five minutes to get there or we’ll all be in detention.”

  As they started running to class, a pulsing ball of bright light zipped past, headed in the direction of the docking port. For a second it continued on its way before coming to a sudden stop and heading back towards them.

  In a flash, the bright light changed into the shape of a bald alien wearing robes as white as snow. His skin shimmered softly, and his purple eyes twinkled with energy.

  “Good morning, sir,” Kaal, Emmie, and John chorused together.

  Lorem, the headmaster of Hyperspace High, raised an eyebrow. Usually, he enjoyed stopping and chatting with students he met along the ship’s passages, taking time to find out how their studies were going and swapping jokes. Today, however, he seemed to be in a rush. “The three of you are late for class,” he said, without wishing them a good morning.

  “Errr... yeah,” John spluttered. “We were just—”

  “Playing Boxogle?” Lorem finished for him.

  There was a moment of silence. “Well?” the headmaster said, raising his eyebrow again.

  “Yes, sir.” John knew it would be no use making up another excuse – not when the headmaster could see things that were hidden from most people. Sometimes even the future.

  “Tomorrow morning you may wish to spend less time playing Boxogle and more time brushing your hair.”

  With a wink of his purple eye, Lorem vanished in a flash of light. John ran to catch up with his friends, running fingers through his untidy mop of blond hair, as they watched the ball of energy disappear in the distance.

  Freaky space stuff, John thought again.

  Chapter 2

  John, Emmie, and Kaal bundled into the holo-classroom with seconds to spare. Around an open hill side, a forest of pink and orange trees stretched far into the distance. Winged lizard-like creatures chattered in a light yellow sky with two suns. At the front of the class, the teacher was taking a seat on an old tree stump.

  The three students found themselves smaller stumps. In the blue grass at John’s feet was a QuickFan, a small propeller on a simple harness. Controlled with a hand-held joystick the size of a pencil, the QuickFan was used to fly in zero-gravity. John eyed it curiously, wondering what sort of lesson Professor Raydon, the Space Survival teacher, had in store.

  A native of planet Arborill, Raydon looked half-man, half-tree. Tall and slim with knotted, bark-like skin, the professor had long hair that was autumn gold. He wore a simple tunic and trousers, while tools hung from a leather belt around his waist. Black eyes under heavy brows looked over the class, checking that none of the students was missing. At his feet, a fire crackled merrily.

  “Good morning,” said Raydon when he had finished his class count. His voice sounded like a tree creaking. He pointed down at the flames at his feet. “Fire,” he anounced. “It can be your best friend, or it can kill you. Last week, we covered lighting fires in inhospitable conditions, but can anyone tell me how best to put one out?”

  Before anyone else could speak, a boy with two long, black tentacles sprouting from his ribcage snapped one in the air. “Deprive the fire of its oxygen source!” he blurted out quickly.

  A small metal ball floating by his shoulder whispered, “Oh, very good, sir,” in its robotic voice. Mordant Talliver’s Serve-U-Droid, G-Vez, stretched out a thin silver arm and brushed a crease from its master’s red and s
ilver jumpsuit.

  John frowned. He himself had known the answer, but Mordant liked to remind everyone how clever he was. The black-haired half-Gargon always tried to answer any questions before anyone else could get a word in.

  “Yes, Mordant Talliver is correct,” creaked Professor Raydon. He put his head to one side, staring at Mordant. “A little rude not waiting to be called on, but correct all the same. Can anyone think of another way to put out fire? Emmie Tarz, how about you?”

  “Ummm...” said Emmie. “That is... ahhh...”

  John glanced round at her. Emmie was biting her bottom lip, a sure sign that she was flustered and nervous. Come on, Emmie, he thought, silently urging her to answer. It’s really obvious. He knew Emmie hated the fact that she was close to the bottom in almost every class, and he also knew she worked hard to improve her marks. In fact, she had been up late last night, cramming her Cosmic Languages coursework.

  Mordant Talliver broke the silence. “Ha,” he sniggered quietly. “Emmie Tarz, the universe’s biggest idiot, strikes again.” In a louder voice, he continued, “Sir, the answer is—”

  “Water!” John blurted, interrupting him. “On Earth we put out fires with water.”

  “That’s right. Thank you, John; though I wasn’t asking you or Mordant.” With long, twig-like fingers, Raydon picked up a water bottle at his feet and tipped it onto the little fire. It steamed and fizzled out. “The water displaces oxygen and turns to steam,” he said. “Which moves heat away from the fire. It’s a very effective way of putting out most fires, used across the universe. If you are in normal gravity.” He paused for a moment. “But we’re in space, and in an emergency the gravity might fail. What happens then?”

  The class was silent.

  “Nothing to say, Talliver or Riley? Stumped you, have I, eh? Well, let’s try it, shall we?” Raydon stood up. “Please strap on your QuickFans. Zepp, give me zero-gravity and cancel the holo program.”

  “Certainly, Professor Raydon,” Zepp replied, as John pulled the QuickFan harness over his shoulders and buckled it at his chest.