Martin King and the Prison of Ice (Martin King Series) (7 page)

“No, no, you
haven’t,” Darcy replied.

“You just haven’t
seemed like yourself lately.”

“I know. I’ve
just been tired, that’s all. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

Martin sighed
and kissed her on the forehead.

“I shall put
you a bed up in a moment,” said Slater.

“No,” said
Darcy. “I’ll share with Martin.” She looked at her boyfriend. “If… if that’s
OK?”

Martin grinned.
“Of course it’s OK.”

Darcy and
Martin slipped into bed and sat together, sipping their hot chocolate. She
clutched him tightly. The jungle seemed to take on a magical quality, a
sparkle. When they had finished their drinks, they laid back, watching the
stars.

“I will take
first watch, if you like,” said Slater, smiling at the couple.

“Thanks,” said
Darcy.

Something weird
had been happening to her over the last few days, but the boy she loved had his
strong arm around her, and she felt that nothing could harm her. She smiled. At
that moment, she couldn’t have been happier.

Slater pressed
a switch on his pocket watch and an invisible shield appeared around their
small camp.

“That should
keep out the insects,” said Slater.

They split the
night into three watches. Slater took the first, Martin took the second, and
Darcy took the third. When it came to his turn, Martin was still awake. He
hadn’t been able to sleep. Instead, he had been talking to Slater in a low
voice, as the nocturnal jungle animals made strange noises.

Slater glanced
at his gold pocket watch. “Well, my time’s up.”

The Axis Lord
got into his bed and closed his eyes. “Good night, Martin.”

“Good night,
sir.”

“Michael.”

“Good night…
Michael. That still sounds weird to say.”

Michael Slater
laughed, and Martin quietly got out of the bed without disturbing Darcy. He
stood listening to the ambience of the planet Wormwood.

*

Martin was still awake when the
first streaks of sunlight pierced the trees. He hadn’t wanted to wake Darcy, so
he had taken the last shift himself. He wouldn’t have been able to sleep
anyway. Slater had disappeared inside
Valiant Star
to make some coffee.
Darcy opened her eyes as the light touched her eyelids.

“Morning,” said
Martin gently.

She smiled.
“Good morning.” Her eyes were wide and alert. “God, I feel great! I’m not
usually a morning person, but I feel really awake.”

Martin wasn’t a
morning person either, and he hadn’t slept at all during the night. And yet, he
felt wide awake, too. More than that, he felt brimming with energy.

“Intriguing,
isn’t it?” said Slater, coming out of
Valiant Star
. “I have read the
Colonisation Report. All of the Axis workers on Wormwood reported the same
thing. A sense of well-being, a vital energy.” He placed his pocket watch
against his wrist. “I usually have a slightly irregular heartbeat, but on this
planet my heart is running like clockwork.”

Michael Slater
handed Darcy and Martin a cup of coffee each, and they began to sip it.

“What causes
it?” said Darcy. “The feeling of wellness, I mean.”

“Who knows?
Could be a number of things. Higher than normal oxygen, lower than normal
gravity, a bombardment of negative ions… anyway, are you both hungry?”

They nodded,
and Mr Slater pulled down an armful of purple vines.

“Wormwood vines
are very flammable,” he said, making a bundle of them on the ground in the
middle of the clearing.

Slater turned
to Darcy. “Would you do the honours?”

He stepped
back, and Darcy thrust her hand towards the pile of vines. A flame shot from
her fingertips, igniting the vines. Mr Slater took a plastic packet from his
pocket and ripped it open. It was a packet of bacon.

“Wow, bacon?”
said Darcy, who was feeling very hungry.

Slater nodded.      

“Did you buy
that on some alien planet?” said Martin.

“No,” said
Slater. “Sainsbury’s.”

Slater
fashioned a sort of grill out of long sticks on a platform and propped it up
over the fire.

“The sticks
won’t burn,” he explained. “These twigs are actually living creatures, and
they’ve evolved over the centuries to become resistant to heat.”

“Oh, lovely,”
said Darcy, giving the sticks a suspicious glance.

The smell of
cooking bacon soon filled the clearing.

“Doesn’t
cooking outside put us in danger?” said Martin. “What if some wild animal
smells the bacon and ends up eating us instead?”

“That could
happen,” agreed Slater, nodding. “And we could have cooked in
Valiant Star
,
of course. In fact, I have a Sustenance Machine in there. But this is more
fun.”

“Yeah, I
suppose it is,” said Martin.

As soon as they
had eaten breakfast, Slater pressed a button on his pocket watch and a hologram
appeared. It was a map.

“I created this
map based on the data in the official reports,” said Slater. “I had very little
to go on, but no Axis Lords have visited Wormwood for over two centuries.”

Slater had
prepared backpacks for them. Each pack contained a supply of water, rations,
matches, and other provisions.

“You shouldn’t
need them,” he said, “but there will be many strange creatures in the jungle.
It is always better to be alive than dead.”

“I’m not sure
that’s the exact expression…” said Darcy.

They began to
trek through the jungle. The air was hot and moist, but they didn’t get too
tired. Maybe the gravity was weaker there, because Martin felt an extra spring
in his step.

They eventually
came to a wide clearing. The canopy was almost non-existent here, and the sunlight
shone straight upon them. Slater pointed out beyond the jungle towards a
mountain. It was covered in some sort of dense yellow fog. At the foot of a
mountain was a great crumbling structure that looked almost like an Aztec
temple.

“That is where
we are heading,” said Slater. “We should be there in less than an hour.”

They sat down
to rest for a moment before continuing. Slater walked in front, cutting through
the vines and hanging branches with a laser knife.

Suddenly,
something shot out from the trees.

With a lightning-fast reflex,
Slater caught it. It was an arrow. If he hadn’t caught it, it would certainly
have pierced his heart.

“Good catch,”
said Martin, his own heart racing.

Mr Slater
smiled. “I was wondering when this would happen.”

“What?” said
Darcy.

“When the Axis
colonists first arrived they reported a local race of savages called the
Hag-Mundi. Harmless enough, mostly, but were considered to be quite
mischievous.”

“They almost
killed you!” said Darcy. “That’s more than mischief.”

Michael Slater
smiled. “It’s perfectly understandable. We are in their territory. They are
simply guarding their patch, so to speak.”

“They’re still
dangerous,” said Martin. “If one of them shot an arrow at me I don’t think I’d
be able to catch it.”

“Don’t worry.”
Mr Slater turned in the direction from which the arrow had been fired. “Now
listen here!” he shouted. “We come with great magic, and great power! If you
try to kill us again we will summon a great evil upon your tribe! Let that be a
warning to you.”

Slater pulled a
small silver ball from his pocket and threw it into the trees. A second later,
there was a massive bang, and lots of smoke.

“You didn’t
kill them?” said Darcy.

Slater shook
his head. “Of course not. That was a Sound Grenade. It is not in any way
damaging—just extremely loud. It should prevent any further trouble from the
savages.”

Sure enough, no
more arrows were fired at them as they made their way towards the crumbling
structure.

“The Axis Lords
called this place the Ziggurat,” said Slater. “It’s a temple. It was built many
years ago by the primitive inhabitants of this planet. It is where the Axis
Lords installed their communication technology. You will notice that it is
quite an advanced design. My people could never work out how a race as backward
as the Hag-Mundi could have possibly had the imagination to build it. The shape
almost seems specifically designed for transmitting information.”

They approached
the Ziggurat. There was no tree cover there, and the hot sun beat down upon
them. Slater led them around to the front of the structure. The entrance was
sealed by a wide stone door.

“It is sealed
with an Axis lock,” he explained. “Only Axis Lords can open it up. That’s why
the Ziggurat is not swarming with savages.”

Michael Slater
touched the stone door and it slid open, roughly—it hadn’t been opened for a
very long time.

They stepped
inside the Ziggurat. It was cool and dark; Martin immediately opened up his
pack and drank some of his water. He hadn’t been able to relax out in the
jungle; he had been half-expecting them to be attacked by a wild animal.

“So why are we
here?” said Darcy, looking around.

The interior
had a sort of disintegrating grandeur. Seven cracked stone pillars surrounded a
red globe that stood on a raised platform. Slater turned the lights on, and
Darcy gasped. It was amazing. Everything was made from stone or gold. A large
painting on one of the walls caught Martin’s eye. It was… no, it couldn’t be.

Martin stepped
closer. A man’s face had been painted on one of the far walls; something that
looked like an altar stood beneath it. What was it? A sort of shrine, perhaps.
But Martin was sure that he recognised the face in the painting.

It
looked
like his dad.

But it couldn’t
be. Charlie was just an ordinary man, a former alcoholic who was now doing a
normal office job. Why would his face be painted in a crumbling temple on an
alien planet?

“This
technology. It’s… wonderful.” Slater walked over to the red globe. “This is a
relay device.”

As Slater
walked around, examining the technology, Martin looked away from the painting
and touched Darcy’s shoulder.

“You OK?”

Darcy nodded.
She was OK for the moment, but she was scared that she would lose control
again—scared that someone would
take
control over her again…

“Martin, pass
me the recall device, please,” said Slater.

Martin took the
blue triangular prism from his pack. Slater walked over to the red sphere.

“If I place the
recall device inside here and activate the machine I should—wait, what am I
thinking? We must record a message first.”

Slater pointed
the blue prism at Martin, as if he was holding up a video camera. “I will
imprint a message in the recall device.” Slater paused. “Well, go on!”

“Er… right,”
said Martin. He coughed. “Er… hello Abaddon. We, er… we need help. There’s… a
fleet of ships heading towards our planet—Earth—and we were wondering if you
could come and help us out. Er… if not, sorry to bother you.”

“Perfect,” said
Slater.

He carried the
recall device over to the red globe and opened it, putting his hand inside. The
Axis Lord frowned. He withdrew his hand; it was covered with some sort of white
powder.

“What’s that
stuff?” said Darcy.

“It doesn’t
matter,” said Slater, wiping his hand on the ground. “Come on, help me tip it
out.”

Martin and
Darcy helped Slater tip the heavy red globe upside down and shake out all of
the powder. When it was empty, they placed it back on the platform and Slater
put the recall device inside it. The Axis Lord walked over to a control panel
and paused for a moment, looking at all of the controls. Then he pressed a
switch, and there was a loud humming sound.

“It is active,”
said Slater, sighing. “The signal is now being transmitted throughout the five
galaxies.”

“Do you think
he’ll come?” said Darcy.

“I do not
know.” Slater paused. “Abaddon is an infamous legend among my people. I suppose
he stands for everything Axis Lords despise—idiosyncrasy, volatility,
uncontrollability…”

Martin put his
head in his hands. He was starting to get a headache. Strangely, Slater too
seemed to be suffering. He rubbed his forehead.

“What’s the
matter?” said Darcy, looking from Martin to Slater.

“Nothing,” said
Martin. “Just got a bit of a headache, that’s all.”

“I am… I have…”
Slater tailed off, and collapsed to the floor.

Martin and
Darcy quickly knelt next to him. Martin took his pulse. It was very fast, but
Martin didn’t know how fast Axis Lord pulses were supposed to be.

“Sir, sir,”
said Martin, “can you hear me?”

Slater’s eyes
flickered open.

“Michael,” he
said weakly, forcing a smile. Then he suddenly cried out in pain.

“What can we do
for you?” said Martin.

“Poisoned,”
said Slater. “I… have been poisoned.”

Martin suddenly
felt a horrible sinking feeling. The white powder, the powder from inside the
red globe… they had all touched it.

“You need… to
go to
Valiant Star
,” Slater croaked. “Go to the medical bay while you have…
the strength. The computer will examine you.”

“Can you
stand?” said Darcy.

Michael Slater
shook his head. “Leave me. I am dying.”

“You can’t be,”
said Martin. “Axis Lords have three lives, right? You haven’t used up all three
already, have you?”

“No,” said
Slater. “I am only in my first life. But it feels… different this time.”

Martin looked
at the dying man. His face had become yellow, and his white hair was matted
with sweat. His purple eyes had turned black. He turned to Darcy.

“We’ll carry
him.”

Darcy nodded.
Martin took hold of Slater’s arms and Darcy grabbed his legs.

“Just… go…”
said Slater, but he was too weak to argue, and they began to carry him through
the bright forest.

It was a long
way back; they hurried on through the path that Slater had cut out through the
jungle. Once, Martin nearly tripped over a tangle of vines, but managed to keep
his balance.

Eventually,
they passed through the large clearing from which they had first spotted the
Ziggurat. It was filled with Hag-Mundi tribesmen. They pointed their bows at
Martin and Darcy as soon as they entered the clearing. A tall man whose face
was painted with white stripes shouted something.

Martin didn’t
understand him, but he was gesturing downwards with his bow, and Martin guessed
that he wanted them to put Slater down. With about thirty arrows pointed
straight at him, Martin didn’t really have a choice.

They lowered
Slater gently to the ground. The man shouted something again. Martin had an
idea; he reached out towards Slater’s waistcoat pocket and pulled out his
pocket watch. The tribesmen cried out in fear, but Martin slipped the watch
into his pocket and held his hands up in surrender.

“We surrender,”
said Martin.

The savages
looked astonished. The pocket watch Martin was now carrying functioned as a
translator—the Hag-Mundi could now understand him.

“What are you
doing with White-Hair Man?” said the savage that Martin took for their leader.

“He’s sick,”
said Martin. “We’re taking him to a doctor. You know—a medicine man.”

The savage
nodded. He bent over Slater, but drew back in disgust when he saw the man’s
eyes.

 “He has Black-Eye
disease!” shouted the savage.

The effect on
the other savages was electric. They instantly dropped their bows and scrambled
backwards into the jungle.

“Take him,” said
the leader of the Hag-Mundi. “Take him away. Leave this place!”

The man looked
as if he was going to be sick. He turned and ran after his fellow savages.
Martin and Darcy quickly picked up Slater and carried him back towards the
ship.

“I can see
Valiant
Star
,” said Darcy.

“We’re nearly
there, sir,” said Martin.

But Slater did
not respond. Perhaps he was already dead.
No
, thought Martin,
he
can’t be…

Martin still
wasn’t feeling very well himself. He felt faint and dizzy, and his headache was
getting worse. Finally, they reached the ship and quickly carried Slater inside.

*

Martin and Darcy lifted Slater
onto what looked like a hospital bed. The ship’s medical bay was comfortingly
clinical; the room was lit by a bright white light and the whole place smelled
like antiseptic.

“The… the green
button,” said Slater, without opening his eyes.

Thank God
he’s alive
, thought Martin. He glanced at the
control panel. There were many smaller buttons and switches, and a large green
button in the centre. Martin pressed the button. A blue laser light swept over
Slater.

“Scanning,
scanning,”
said the medical computer.
“Scan
complete. Patient has been poisoned.”

“Poisoned by
what?” said Martin.

“Information
unavailable. Commence purification.”

A green light moved
slowly over Slater; it took about five minutes to make a complete sweep. Then
the same light swept over him again. Martin fidgeted restlessly. Slater wasn’t
moving or speaking at all now. Finally, the light switched off.

“Purification
complete.”

Slater still
didn’t move.

“Sir?” said
Martin.

“Michael,” said
Slater. He grinned, and sat up in the hospital bed. “All cured.”

Martin and
Darcy both sighed with relief.

“I thought you
were going to die,” said Darcy.

“So did I,”
said Slater, “and I would have done without you two. Thank you.” He paused.
“Strange kind of poison. It seems to have only affected me—I’ve never heard of
a poison that only works on Axis Lords.”

“I’m feeling a
bit ill, to be honest,” said Martin.

“Really?”

Michael Slater
made him lie on the hospital bed while the computer scanned him.

“Patient has
been poisoned. 50% poison concentration detected. Commence purification.”

Slater watched,
fascinated, as the green light cured Martin’s poisoning. As the light swept
over his body, Martin’s headache slowly vanished, and he felt much better
again.

“Now you,” said
Slater, pointing at Darcy.

Darcy lied down
as the medical computer scanned her.

“Subject is
healthy. No detected abnormalities.”

“Intriguing,” said
Slater. “Only Martin and I were affected.”

They retired to
the lounge and sat down in the comfortable armchairs.

“It’s funny,”
said Martin. “The savages called it “Black-Eye Disease”. They were terrified
when they saw that you were affected.”

Slater laughed.
“Yes, the Hag-Mundi probably did not know that they could not catch it
themselves.” His eyes darkened. “Someone has designed this,” he said slowly.