Star Blaze (27 page)

“Let's go home,” said Clara and Johnny found himself on the floor of the
Spirit of London
's bridge, between Bram and Clara who'd stayed standing. The Plican's tank was back to normal, Clara's eyes were fading to blue and the mind Johnny had briefly carried had disappeared. He tried to move, but instantly waves of nausea washed over him and he began to be violently sick.

“Are you OK, Johnny?” Even in the midst of feeling absolutely dreadful, Johnny couldn't have been happier. It was Sol who had asked the question.

“Never better,” he replied, before throwing up again.

The solar system's defenses were in place or on their way, meaning Bram could now leave for Alnitak. The
Calida Lucia
had spent the last fortnight putting her sister ship to the test in the form of grueling space trials. The
Spirit of London
had responded magnificently and seemed completely back to normal, so the two Imperial vessels moved onto battle drills, flying side by side into the outer solar system, taking the opportunity to probe and test Alf's defense net for any signs of weakness. Johnny's ship's already powerful weapons had been upgraded so they would even be a match for the giant Andromedan Stardestroyers. He'd had to give up his five-a-side football pitch to make room for new machinery, but it seemed a small sacrifice considering. Reinforcements, in the shape of Captain Valdour's fleet, were gathering around Melania and due to leave within the next week.

Meanwhile, on Pluto Base, the little Tolimi had been busy. A huge cylinder now snaked across the surface of the dwarf planet. When he first saw it, Johnny assumed it was some sort of pipeline, but he quickly discovered it was the massive barrel of a nearly finished super gun, capable of accelerating projectiles to relativistic speeds and firing them at enemy ships. Johnny couldn't help but be impressed by how these aliens, used to living with three suns, were adapting to life with just one very distant one. Although the Sun was tiny in the sky it was still
surprisingly bright, but couldn't provide the tropical conditions the Tolimi were used to, which meant the Emperor's gift of the
Calida Lucia
's beach habitat, especially modeled on their home planet, went down especially well. To provide additional entertainment, Sol transmitted instructions on how to build televisions meaning Johnny was able to watch a football match with the aliens and explain what was happening. When a Tolimus asked Clara what was meant by offside, she beat a hasty retreat back to the beach.

Now, though, the fun was over and a new seriousness had gripped the
Spirit of London
. The Emperor stood tall, his eyes bright and earnest. “I must search for Erin and Zeta—before the trail goes cold or they do any more damage,” said Bram, looking around the bridge, “or fall into the wrong hands. And you … you must return to Earth.”

Johnny pulled a face—he hadn't forgotten the promise he'd made to himself to also go after Erin to avenge Sol.

“Your place is here,” said Bram. “The net is closing—the Andromedans will come sooner rather than later. I have vowed to protect humanity in the coming conflict and need someone I can trust on the ground. But remember this—should anything happen before the fleet arrives, contact me by Cornicula Worm. Be patient if I am not in attendance—it will take a few days for any Andromedan fleet to assemble and it is inadvisable for you to return to Melania for the time being … given your last visit.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” said Alf, taking his hat off and making a low bow.

Bram walked over and, in turn, hugged Clara and Alf—the android turned red as a traffic light. Next, he saluted Johnny, accompanied with the word “captain” as though to emphasize there really was a war on, before turning and disappearing through a fold Clara was holding open.

From the bridge they watched the
Calida Lucia
break orbit
and pass in front of Pluto's giant moon, Charon, before space appeared to collapse in on itself and the Imperial Starcruiser vanished from sight. With such a massive spatial disturbance, the
Spirit of London
wouldn't be able to fold straight home. Instead, Johnny brought the dark energy drive online and set course for Earth.

It was December and the streets of London without a coat were far colder than the surface of Pluto from inside a spacesuit. Christmas shoppers, wrapped in woolly hats and scarves, scrambled to buy presents, oblivious to the fact that the wintry Sun shining above them might explode at any time. Johnny stood on the pavement as the world went by around him. He knew he had to return to the children's home to stay close to the Wormholes, even if it meant leaving Sol for a few days. The ship declared she would be fine, so long as Johnny didn't spend all his time sending messages through “that annoying bundle of silicon, Kovac.” Johnny tried to put on a brave face in return. After weeks in space, it seemed even more unfair that Clara could remain aboard the
Spirit of London
and didn't even have to go to school.

Alf had insisted he take the
Bakerloo
to Castle Dudbury. The android had claimed it was important for Johnny to have a shuttle at his disposal, but Johnny suspected it was at least as much to do with not wanting Clara to fold space any more than necessary. Johnny had been thrilled to see Bram had placed an Imperial Starfighter in the shuttle bay, filling the hole left by the missing
Jubilee
. If only it had the same camouflage modes as the other shuttles he could have traveled to Halader House in that. As it was, he and Bentley flew invisibly, but rather more slowly, over the outskirts of the capital. As they left the city behind, patches of snow dotted the countryside and, by the time they
reached Castle Dudbury, the ground below was a continuous band of white. Stepping from the shuttle, the snow crunched satisfyingly beneath Johnny's boots, as more flakes fell all around. Bentley was off straightaway, leaving a trail of muddy pawprints in his wake. Johnny chased after him, cornering his friend in front of a group of tightly packed cars. He dived on top of the Old English sheepdog, rolling Bentley over in a mock fight.

Then, just as Johnny began to get up, he was forced to duck down as a snowball flew a whisker over his head.

“Get 'im!” someone shouted from behind the cars, and a volley of missiles rained down. If it was Spencer Mitchell and his gang, Johnny wouldn't put it past them for their snowballs to have rocky cores—he was lucky they were such bad shots.

Johnny rolled out of the way of the incoming fire and propped his back against one of the vehicles as he made his own ammunition to fight back—even if the odds were against him, nothing beat a good snowball fight. Sadly, before he had chance to retaliate, Bentley had chased the rabble away.

Johnny gave the dog a half-hearted pat of thanks. On his feet again, holding a firmly compacted ball in each palm, he lobbed the left-hand snowball high into the air and then took aim with his right, scoring a direct hit high above his head. Then, with his numbing fingers, he picked up Bentley's lead, smiled grimly at the Old English sheepdog, took a deep breath and said, “Here goes, Bents.”

The pair set off toward the corner of the carpark. Almost inevitably, as they reached the rear gate into the Halader House backyard, the last person in the world Johnny wanted to see happened to be standing beside the back door.

“Thought you'd got rid of that mutt, sonny,” said Mr. Wilkins.

“Course not,” Johnny replied. He had no choice but to tie Bentley's lead to the snow-covered kennel near the gate, despite
the sheepdog's unhappy whimpering. Johnny lifted his friend's shaggy fringe and looked into the different-colored eyes. “Sorry, Bents,” he whispered. “Promise I'll get you soon as I can.”

Bentley pulled away and lay down in the snow, not even making use of the little shelter on offer.

“So long as it stays there I s'pose there's no harm,” said Mr. Wilkins. “Come on, sonny. You'll catch your death out here.” The cook took hold of Johnny's elbow and steered him through the doorway into the warmth of the children's home. This weird behavior was compounded when the huge man added, “You hungry then? I've got your favorite for supper.”

“You've cooked fish 'n chips?” Johnny asked, incredulous.

“Nah—roast beef and Yorkshire puddings,” replied the cook.

“OK …” said Johnny, thoroughly confused. “Better go and get changed first.” He ducked out of Mr. Wilkins's grasp and ran down the corridor before the cook could stop him.

Entering his bedroom felt less like coming home than ever and Johnny soon found himself longing for his quarters on the
Spirit of London
. Someone had taken all his space posters down and most of his favorite clothes had been thrown away. He knew he should probably go and find Miss Harutunian and make up a cover story for his latest absence, but right now he couldn't face lying to her again. Besides, judging from Mr. Wilkins's strange behavior, it was just possible he'd somehow managed not to be missed. Whatever, he didn't fancy the thought of going down to the dining room and eating with everyone else and was quite sure Mr. Wilkins had to be lying about the Yorkshire puddings.

He'd have liked to have spoken some more with Bram, but there was no way he could right now as the Emperor had been
going straight to Alnitak. Instead, he used the other Wormhole to speak briefly with Frago, one of the leaders of the Tolimi. Johnny promised to stay close by in case any ships were detected.

He sat back on the bed feeling hungry. Once he was sure dinner was in full swing, he crept downstairs and sneaked into the computer room to say a belated hello to Kovac. Eventually, he managed to get away and made the short walk to the nearby chippy. On the way back he collected a very cold and unhappy Bentley from the little kennel and, as soon as they were safely upstairs in the attic bedroom, tried to pacify him with a large portion of chips all to himself. The sheepdog soon stopped sulking and, after polishing off some of Johnny's fish as well, retired underneath Johnny's bed beside the radiator in front of the window.

Bentley's contented snores lifted Johnny's spirits. He ventured down to the common room, but no one seemed very interested in chatting to him and his arrival had the effect of emptying the entire place. A few weeks away and it felt as if he hadn't lived there for eleven and a half years. With nothing worth watching on the TV, he climbed the stairs all the way up to the top, pulled down the trapdoor with its “no entry” sign screwed on and climbed into his room to prepare for school the next day. He really didn't want to go, but at least it was the very last day of term before the Christmas holidays. It would be good to catch up with his friends in the football team, before returning to check the two Wormholes.

Double chemistry was never one of Johnny's favorite subjects, but today was worse than ever. Alisha Leow was his chemistry partner solely because “L” came next to “M” in the alphabet and, on this particular morning, she kept moving her stool closer to
his while Miss Hewitt at the front talked about potassium permanganate and swimming pools. Johnny edged his own stool away, but Alisha seemed to find this very funny and kept following. Then, when Miss Hewitt had her back turned and was writing a chemical formula on the whiteboard, a hand placed itself unexpectedly on Johnny's thigh. He yelped, jumped up and knocked over the Bunsen burner, which clattered to the floor.