Frozen Enemies Page 4

  “And threatened the extinction of hundreds of species,” Lorem murmered, loud enough for the class to hear.

  “When you say it’s the last battle, do you mean it’s, like, a full-scale replica?” Bareon cut in.

  “No, I mean it’s the actual battle,” replied Greyfore gravely. “The magnificent Subo Army was on the verge of finally crushing the Goran once and for all—”

  “Actually, the two armies were evenly matched.” Ms Vartexia cut in.

  Greyfore glanced at the Hyperspace History teacher. “The Goran line was about to be shattered by a Subo attack—” he continued.

  “An attack led by the most ruthless general in the Subo Army,” Ms Vartexia interrupted again.

  For a moment, Greyfore looked like he might explode. With obvious effort, he collected himself. “General Klort was a hero,” he said curtly.

  “She lost every battle she was involved in.”

  Anger again flashed in Greyfore’s eyes, then he flapped his hands as if waving away Ms Vartexia’s words. “As I was saying,” he growled, “a galactic peacekeeping force arrived at the climax of the battle. Using advanced technology, it froze the entire battlefield. Every soldier has since been kept in one huge stasis cube exactly as they were at that time. We will never know how the battle would have ended.”

  “However, the Subo and Goran have lived in peace on their neighbouring planets ever since,” said Lorem lightly.

  “Indeed,” said Greyfore, in a voice that was almost a bark. “Now, I am s-sorry but I really must leave if I am to b-be in time f-for my m-meeting.”

  “Well, I’m sure I speak for all the students when I thank you for your visit,” replied Lorem politely.

  “Not at all. Always good to m-meet keen young historians. I hope you all have an e-excellent visit to Archivus M-major.” Glancing up at Ms Vartexia, he chuckled, “An Elvian, eh?” He reached out and touched Ms Vartexia on the arm, staring up into the tall teacher’s eyes. “You must try the Elvian spaghetti at Optical Orbit in the evening. It’s very more-ish. You will want to keep eating it all night.”

  “Excuse me, sir,” said Lishtig, thrusting a hand into the air. “Are we staying overnight?”

  “But of course we’re staying overnight,” said the headmaster, as Graximus Greyfore hurried out of the lecture hall. “There’s far too much to see in a single day. I thought you would have guessed. That’s why you will each be taking a Xi-Class Privateer. Every ship will double up as a bed pod.”

  Despite Graximus Greyfore’s strange behaviour and all the curator’s rules, the trip was sounding like more and more fun. Gritting his teeth, John reminded himself that first he had to pass the Examiners’ test.

  Chapter 5

  Billows of steam rolled around the bathroom, as John soaked under a soapy spray. “What’s the time, Zepp?” he shouted over noisy jets of water that gushed from all directions.

  “It is now five zero three and thirty-two seconds,” the computer replied. “You should think about getting dressed.”

  “OK, but could you turn the temperature down? A few seconds of cold should wake me up.”

  “Yeeeow!” John yelled a second later. “Not that cold! Turn it off. Turn it OFF!”

  “Awake now?” Zepp seemed to chuckle as the water cut off and whirring fans began blasting John with warm air.

  “For a bunch of old wires and circuit boards, you have a real cruel streak. You know that, don’t you?” John complained, as he stepped out of the cubicle, completely dry but still shivering.

  “Yes,” said the computer. “This might help you wake up, too.” Loud Earth rock music began playing.

  John brushed his teeth, trying to keep his nerves under control. In a few minutes he would have to face the Examiners.

  In his mind he went over everything that Sergeant Jegger had taught about flying the Xi-Class Privateer over the past two days. “Speed on the left, direction on the right,” he muttered to himself through a mouthful of foaming toothpaste.

  Zepp startled him. “Message from the Examiners. Report immediately to hangar C for your flight test. Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” John pulled on his uniform, getting as far as the door before remembering to return to the basin to spit, rinse, and return the toothbrush to its holder.

  Kaal’s head emerged from his bed pod just as John was leaving. “Don’t forget,” he said, yawning, “we’re meeting at the Centre for a celebration breakfast after you’ve passed.”

  “If I pass.”

  “You’ll pass,” said Kaal, as the door hissed shut.

  * * *

  “Proceed,” droned the Examiner.

  “Uh, J-John Riley,” said John, his voice shaking.

  A hatch opened in the side of the sleek, black spaceship. John sat in the pilot’s MorphSeat, and the harness strapped itself around his body. One tiny mistake and I’ll be left behind... he didn’t finish the thought. Instead, he scolded himself, remembering Zepp’s advice. “Get a grip. I am good at this, even Jegger said so,” he said out loud.

  Feeling slightly more confident, he placed his hands on the armrests of the seat, setting his fingertips on the touchpad controls. Through the ship’s transparent shell, he looked towards the single Examiner floating close by, and nodded. “Computer, disengage docking locks, start engines, and display speed,” he said, pushing down another wave of anxiety.

  “Affirmative. Ready to launch, John Riley.”

  From the corner of his eye, John saw red lights flash on the blank whiteness of the Examiner’s “head”. Its voice broke in through the Privateer’s intercom. “Manoeuvres. First: circle the deck and make a rotating ninty-degree turn, taking a new stationary position at the hangar bay doors.”

  John gulped. As he’d expected, the Examiner wasn’t going to make it easy for him. “Computer: display course heading.” New information flashed up on the transparent skin of the Privateer. John’s fingers were already moving across the touchpads.

  He had barely finished the first manoeuvre, when the Examiner issued new commands. One after another, John completed them flawlessly, his confidence growing steadily each time. In the back of his mind he wished Emmie was watching. This must be how she feels when she’s flying, he thought to himself. As he took the Privateer around the hangar in a series of turns, rolls, and swoops, he felt – for the first time – like he was a part of the ship.

  “Land and exit Xi-Class Privateer,” said the Examiner at last. Its voice gave no clue as to whether it was satisfied or not.

  “OK, Riley, last one. Don’t mess this up,” John hissed through gritted teeth, as he brought the spaceship round and lined up for landing. “Computer, display docking guides.”

  Carefully, he brought the ship onto the deck. The Privateer landed smoothly. Upon landing, the harness released, and John stumbled out on legs like jelly. He stood to attention in front of the Examiner.

  * * *

  Hands thrust deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched, and a scowl across his face, John walked out of the TravelTube at the Centre, where most Hyperspace High pupils hung out in their free time. A few metres away his friends were leaning over one of the many balconies, watching students splashing in the waters of the small lake below. Tall trees with pink, yellow, and purple leaves towered over them, stretching towards the enormous clear dome above.

  Dodging through the crowd, past Technomancer’s Gamestation and nodding at a few of the beings who wished him good morning, John slouched up to Kaal and Emmie.

  “Hi, John,” Emmie started brightly. Seeing the look on his face, her own smile fell. “Oh no,” she continued.

  “Bad luck,” said Kaal, clapping him on the shoulder with a strength that made John stagger. “Archivus Major’s not going to be the same without you.”

  Unable to keep up the act, John grinned. “I made it!” he yelled. “I passed. I’m co
ming after all. I almost kissed the Examiner when it told me!”

  Kaal and Emmie’s faces lit up.

  “Awesome!” Kaal yelped with joy, his wings flapping as they always did when he was excited. “Hey, get off him, Tarz. Leave the Earthling alone.”

  Reluctantly, John disentangled himself from Emmie’s hug. “So,” he said. “I believe there was talk of a celebration breakfast.”

  “Special treat,” said Kaal. “The new Seefood restaurant on balcony eighteen. It’s tough to get in, but I put our names down two days ago.”

  “That sounds cool. I love seafood. Never had it for breakfast before, but, hey, I’ve never been examined by a freaky floating robot before, either.”

  “You’re going to love it,” said Kaal, clapping him on the shoulder again. “Especially after all that Earth muck you eat.”

  Balcony eighteen was on the highest level of the Centre, reached by a revolving, clear TravelTube. It was the first time John had been up so high and he marvelled at the view with awe, wondering what his mates from Earth would say if they were here.

  Like a vast shopping mall, the Centre was ringed with balconies, each with its own brightly lit shops and cafés. Even at this time of the morning, it was bustling with beings from every corner of the galaxy. Students who looked as though they had been constructed almost entirely from electronic parts were deep in conversation with creatures that flitted about on dragonfly wings. Some students hovered in anti-gravity suits, others had specially made helmets that allowed them to breathe the atmosphere of their home planets. The strangest being reminded John of a swarm of bees.

  “Here we are: Seefood,” said Kaal, as the TravelTube door slid open.

  John stared. Across the passageway was a restaurant. Above its door, outlined in pink neon lights, a huge eye winked at him. “Errr... what’s this?” he asked nervously.

  “Seefood,” said Emmie, making for the door. “You know: eyeballs. They’ve got Murlian Snowbeast eyeballs, eyeballs of the Deplar Flat Tiger, Pord eyeballs – every kind of eyeball you can think of.”

  “She’s joking, isn’t she?” John asked hopefully, looking up at Kaal.

  “Why would you think that?” replied Kaal, confused. “I’m having eyeballs of the Twilight Blink Lizard. Absolutely delicious.”

  Stomach already heaving, John followed his friends into the restaurant. “Table for three, Zepp,” said Kaal.

  “Certainly, Kaal,” Zepp’s voice replied. “The table at the back of the restaurant has been reserved for you.”

  The three friends slipped into MorphSeat stools. “And what will you be having this fine morning?” asked Zepp. “May I recommend the Zabda eyes, smothered with retina-fire hot sauce.”

  Feeling queasier by the minute, John leaned on the circular silver table and tried to take his mind off eyeballs by looking around. It didn’t help. There were pictures of eyeballs everywhere, as well as decorative jars full of eyeballs and a huge glass eyeball slowly spinning in the middle of the restaurant. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for forgetting about his alien friends’ disgusting eating habits.

  “Hmmm, the Zabda eyes sound good but have you got Derrilian Twilight Blink Lizard?” asked Kaal.

  “Of course. Seefood has eyeballs from every planet you could name,” Zepp replied. “And for you, Emmie?”

  “The Zabda eyes sound good; I’ll start with those,” said Emmie.

  “Excellent choice. How about you, John?”

  “We don’t eat eyeballs on Earth,” said John faintly.

  “Actually, that’s not true,” replied the computer. “Many Earthlings enjoy sheep’s eyes. Would you like to try some?” Zepp stopped. “Oh, I just checked. We don’t have any sheep’s eyes. You could try the Jink-Jink eyeballs; they taste almost the same.”

  “Is there any chance you could just make me an omelette?”

  “An omelette?”

  “You know: eggs, a splash of milk, some salt and pepper, butter...”

  “I know what an omelette is, John, but are you sure you don’t want to be a little more adventurous?”

  “What are erggs?” Emmie interrupted.

  “Eggs,” Zepp answered. “They come from birds’ bottoms.”

  Emmie and Kaal glanced at each other in shock.

  “How utterly revolting,” Emmie whispered, managing to sound as sick as John felt. “You Earthlings eat them, do you?”

  “Yes,” said John firmly. “We do. I’ll have an omelette, please, Zepp.”

  “If you’re sure. I could put some eyeballs on the side if you like.”

  A few moments later, compartments opened in the smooth surface of the table. Dishes containing the food rose from beneath. John inspected his plate to make sure that no eyeballs had been hidden beneath his omelette, then hunched over and kept his own eyes on his breakfast. Even so, he couldn’t help catching a glimpse of large sundae glasses piled high with eyeballs and drenched in blood-red sauce. Making noises of hungry delight, Kaal and Emmie tucked into their food. Silently, John thanked his stars that they were both too busy eating to notice where he was looking. Listening to the wet, slightly crunchy, slurping noises from across the table, he soon began to wish he could stuff his fingers in his ears.

  “What’s wrong with John?” asked Gobi-san-Art, who was sitting with Lishtig at the next table. “Why’s he sitting like that?”

  “You OK, John?” Kaal’s voice sounded as if he was speaking with his mouth full.

  Shielding his eyes from the view with one hand, John lifted his head. “Fine,” he said. “Slight headache. Must be the stress of the examination this morning.”

  “Try a Zabda eyeball,” said Emmie, holding one under his nose on the end of a prong.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” John choked, waving it away quickly. “I’m full.”

  “Anyway,” Gobi-san-Art cut in, his gravelly voice unmistakable. “What do you want to see first on Archivus Major? I’m hoping it’s the Grand Diamond of Iona. Apparently, it’s as big as a K’laar Whale, glitters like a Dazzle Star, and is carved with pipes that make music when there’s a breeze.”

  “Boring,” interrupted Lishtig. “If we get the chance, I’m going straight to the Hall of Games. They have a full-scale Darl Labyrinth complete with deathtraps. I bet the Omega-bots won’t let us play, though,” he finished, sounding disappointed. “What about you, Riley?”

  “After the last field trip, I just want to keep out of trouble,” replied John, staring at a few centimetres of tabletop. “Nice, safe, boring exhibits suits me fine. No volcanoes.”

  Kaal chuckled. “I can’t wait to get to the Star Dragon,” he said. “Emmie, you have to get a 4-D photo of me standing next to it. My dad is going to be so jealous.”

  “I want to go straight to the Goran–Subo battleground,” said Emmie firmly.

  “No way. There’s loads more interesting things to see. Mmmm, these eyeballs are really good.”

  Stomach churning, John heard a squelch, as the Derrilian popped another into his mouth.

  “Are you sure you’re all right, John?” asked Kaal. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

  “It’s nothing,” John croaked. “I’m all right, honestly.”

  A chime sounded. “Would students going to Archivus Major please make their way to exit port alpha immediately,” announced Zepp’s voice. “We will be launching in thirty minutes.”

  Never before had John been so grateful to leave a restaurant. Making a mental note never to let his friends take him out to eat again, he jumped to his feet. “We’d better go,” he gabbled. “No time to waste.”

  “I haven’t finished my eyeballs,” said Kaal. “Maybe I could wrap them in a serviette for later... John, hey, John. Wait for us!”

  Chapter 6

  The disgusting breakfast pushed to the back of his mind, John stood outside the c
hanging rooms with his chattering classmates. Looking out of a window at the stars, John felt a familiar wave of excitement surge through him. His forehead creased as he tried to put his finger on exactly what it was. Then he smiled. It was just like going on a family holiday. His dad always made the family get up ridiculously early and pile into the car while it was still dark outside. We’re in space, it’s always dark outside, he reminded himself.

  John felt a sudden pang of homesickness. He missed his parents. Plus, he missed the feeling of the sun on his face. Even though he had made good friends at Hyperspace High, he missed the company of other humans. Half the time he couldn’t understand what the aliens around him were talking about. Although the ship’s systems modified sound waves to translate every word that anyone spoke into each being’s native language, the other students talked constantly about technologies, planets, and beings that he had never heard of.

  Suddenly, the changing-room door opened and John was brought back to the present. “Pay attention,” barked Sergeant Jegger, entering with the headmaster and Ms Vartexia at his side.

  Instantly, the buzz of conversation died. No one ever disobeyed the sergeant.

  “As you know, you will be spared my company on this trip,” Jegger continued, “for which I am sure you are all truly grateful. But before you go, I want to remind you that you are flying extremely valuable Xi-Class Privateers. I want every single one of them back in one piece. Are you listening, Riley?”

  “Sir, yes-sir,” John rapped out.

  “Good. So no fancy manoeuvres or risk taking. Yes, I’m looking at you, Talliver. Now, you’ll be piloting your own craft through deep space, which means you’ll need to be suited up. When I call your name, go to a cubicle and change into the SecondSkin pilot’s suit you find there, then report to me for flight checks. Lishtig ar Steero, first cubicle. Bareon, second cubicle, John Riley, third cubicle...”

  Adrenalin pumping, John ran a hand down the silver and red spacesuit hanging in his cubicle. It felt like living rubber and rippled beneath his fingers. On a metal bench beside it sat a high-tech helmet, a pair of knee-high boots, and gauntlet gloves, all in the same colours. Quickly, he climbed out of his clothes and transferred them to a bag, then slipped into the spacesuit. It tightened, flowing around him, shaping itself to fit his body exactly.