Star Blaze (31 page)

“I didn't say I wasn't interested,” the quantum computer replied. “I was merely pointing out potential problems with your request that you may not be aware of.”

“What you're clearly not aware of,” said Johnny, “is that my bedroom upstairs contains the end points of two trans-dimensional Wormholes that link directly—and instantaneously—to both places.”

“Instantaneously?” Kovac asked.

“I've placed wireless transmitters at the openings of both,” said Johnny. “Perhaps you could use these to study them?”

“Intriguing … but why?” asked the quantum computer. “Where will you be when I'm ‘monitoring transmissions'?”

“On the
Spirit of London
,” Johnny replied. “It's Christmas.”

“Ah yes. By my understanding, which is clearly limited in some areas, Christmas is traditionally a time spent with family
and friends.”

“I guess so,” said Johnny, wondering where this was leading.

“Yet you're abandoning me and spending it with that jumped-up spaceship.”

“That jumped-up spaceship designed your quantum processor,” said Johnny. “You wouldn't exist without her.”

“You call this existence?” said Kovac.

The room fell silent—Johnny didn't know what to say. Breakfast must have finished as there were voices in the corridor outside. Someone tried the door handle, but found it locked.

“Take me with you,” said Kovac, changing tack.

“What?”

“Take me with you. I'm … I'm lonely. Stuck here in this children's home with no one to talk to.”

Johnny was amazed to be hearing this, but knew a little of how the computer felt. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't realize.”

“So you will? My very own Christmas holiday …”

“I can't,” said Johnny, hating himself. “You're not exactly portable, are you?”

“One plastic box is much the same as another,” said Kovac. “We could soon remedy that.”

“Who'd monitor the signals?” said Johnny. “That's so important.”

“After everything I've done for you,” said Kovac. “Bringing you out of New York—your precious spaceship couldn't have done that.”

“And I'm glad you did … but it doesn't change anything,” said Johnny. There was no reply—he wasn't used to silence from Kovac. “Look—study the Wormholes. If there's a way you can find to check on them remotely then …”

“You promise?” Kovac asked.

“Maybe,” Johnny replied.

The conversation with Kovac stayed with Johnny until he and Bentley entered the revolving doors at the foot of the
Spirit of London
. There in front of them was the three meter high statue of the silver alien, bedecked in tinsel and wearing a santa hat. Clara told Johnny she was in the ship's garden, so they took the lifts straight to deck 18. As soon as they stepped out, the smell of fresh baking hit Johnny and, despite his shouts, Bentley shot ahead, following his nose to a large pine tree with Clara at its base and Alf some way up. The android was floating in an antigrav harness, and both of them were hanging different-shaped, golden brown ornaments on the tree's branches.

Clara offered Bentley one of them still in her hand, which he promptly began to eat. Then, clearly delighted, the Old English sheepdog rolled onto his back holding his paws in the air, hoping for a tummy rub. It was almost impossible not to succumb and, by the time Johnny reached the base of the tree, Bentley was giving Johnny's sister a little thank you kiss.

“Miss Clara,” shouted Alf from several meters up. “We will never finish if you keep allowing yourself to be interrupted.”

“Don't be silly,” she said, looking up at the android hovering in mid-air. “You know very well you don't need me—you and the drones could do it more quickly and I'm definitely not helping up there. There's no point doing something if you can't enjoy it.”

“You mean like me having to go to school,” said Johnny.

Clara jumped and looked across. “Well, you're on holiday now,” she said a little sheepishly, “so let's have some fun.”

“OK—I'll start by having one of these,” said Johnny, taking a snowman-shaped biscuit from Clara's hand and, before she could protest, biting its head off. “It's all right for you,” he
mumbled through a mouthful of beautiful buttery crumbs. “I had Mr. Wilkins's porridge for breakfast.”

After a day spent decorating the
Spirit of London
, the ship looked more Christmassy than Santa's grotto. As well as streamers everywhere and snow paintings on the windows, the corridors and larger decks had been hung with copies of the illuminated Oxford and Regent Street decorations that Clara had apparently taken Alf to see the night before. It was the garden, though, that was the centerpiece. Sol had somehow made it snow without it becoming too cold for the plants, so everything was covered in several centimeters of crisp white carpet that miraculously wasn't melting. Finally, floating unaided directly above the decorated pine tree, shone a single, bright, beautiful, miniature star.

As the day wore on, Alf went to the galley to prepare supper. Bentley had worn himself out rolling around in the warm snow and was now snoring peacefully underneath a nearby oak tree. Conscious that he had to pretend to be spending his evenings out in Essex, Johnny asked Clara to fold him quickly to Castle Dudbury—there was still no sign of Captain Valdour's fleet, so he wanted to see if Kovac had heard anything. She was delighted to agree and seconds later an archway appeared that led directly into the attic of the children's home.

The immaculate bedroom was nearly unrecognizable. The unmade bed he'd left that morning had been stripped and replaced with freshly laundered, perfectly ironed sheets. His mud-spattered football boots from the match had been cleaned—and polished—and placed neatly in the corner of the room. There wasn't a hint of dust anywhere and the cardboard box containing the few mementos Johnny had of their parents, normally tucked under his bed, was poking out of the
wastepaper bin in the far corner. That was too much. Johnny rescued it and placed it on a shelf inside the wardrobe.

“You're sure this is your bedroom?” asked Clara. Over the months she'd grown used to his messy quarters aboard the
Spirit of London
.

“It's weird,” Johnny agreed. “I promise it's not normally like this.”

Clara lifted the trapdoor, keen to have a look around the whole children's home, but Johnny stopped her. It was too risky—if she were spotted, they'd have some difficult questions to answer. Instead, he asked her to make the room appear “lived in” while he showed his face downstairs and caught up with Kovac.

He needn't have worried—Clara could have come. The children's home was almost deserted with just a couple of younger boys in the common room, making the most of everyone being away by sitting on the best sofa right in front of the TV. Johnny said hi to make sure they'd noticed him in case anyone asked, and then went down the corridor into the computer room.

Even Kovac couldn't pretend to be bored by his examination of the Cornicula Wormholes. He'd received a message from Pluto Base, but nothing from the center of the galaxy. Captain Valdour's continued non-appearance was becoming a little disturbing.

The quantum computer had also printed off the blueprints for a device he claimed would let him monitor them from any Earth-based location, if it were possible to build it. Weighed down by the large pile of paper, Johnny climbed his spiral staircase, opened the trapdoor and entered his impressively messy bedroom to find it deserted.

“Clara?” he whispered, looking round as he pulled the trapdoor closed. Sheets were now hanging off the bed so he had to get down on his knees to look underneath—no one was there.
He tried the wristcom. “Clara—where are you?” and from behind he heard the creak of the wardrobe door opening.

“I wasn't sure it was you,” whispered his sister, parting some hanging shirts to show her face.

“Who else would be it be?” Johnny whispered back, not clear why he was keeping his voice down. The next moment though, footsteps clanged on the foot of the wrought-iron staircase. Johnny looked at his sister, whose fearful eyes met his. Her hands reached out and yanked him into the wardrobe, before pulling the door to just as the trapdoor opened.

“It's only you who mustn't be seen,” whispered Johnny.

Clara elbowed him in the ribs to shut him up while, outside in the room, somebody let out a long sigh. Of course Johnny could simply open the door, but having whoever was in his room tell the rest of the children's home that they found him hiding inside his own wardrobe didn't bear thinking about. The intruder must have gone straight to the hifi on top of Johnny's chest of drawers, because the room was instantly filled with very loud, extremely dull, classical music. Next, the person in the room began a one-way conversation, presumably on a mobile phone, but the music was so loud Johnny couldn't hear what was being said. Something about the voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The call ended and, from the noises filtering into the wardrobe, it sounded as though whoever they were was now tidying up. Johnny was pleased to still be holding the pile of papers, or they might have ended up in the bin. Moving them to underneath one arm, he very carefully opened the door just a sliver to try and see who was there—and cringed as the hinges creaked. The mystery intruder was out of sight, but then some fingers curled around the inside of the door and began to pull it open. Johnny felt as if his heart had stopped beating, but then his arm was grabbed and the next thing he knew he was lying in the snow on deck 18
of the
Spirit of London
, with Clara beside him and Bentley lolloping over to say hello.

“Thanks,” said Johnny. “Though I wish I'd seen who was in my room.”

“It was probably just a cleaner,” said Clara, laughing nervously.

Johnny rather thought she was showing her ignorance of children's homes, but he laughed too, relieved at not being discovered.

“And you know what?” his sister added.

“What?”

“Tomorrow's Christmas Eve. For once let's forget everything and have some fun—I can't wait for everyone to see what I've bought them.”

Johnny felt himself turn even paler than normal. In one fell swoop all thoughts of the mysterious bedroom invader and even Captain Valdour's absence were instantly dismissed. Much more important was that he had only a day to buy Christmas presents for everyone on board.

First thing the next morning, Johnny presented Sol with Kovac's blueprints for making the quantum computer portable. He could tell the ship didn't think much of the idea, but to her credit Sol set about manufacturing the device. Meanwhile, Johnny ransacked his quarters trying—and failing—to find where he'd put his money. Somewhere he knew he had about thirty pounds. He lifted the same piles of clothes and magazines over and over again, moving them from one spot to another, but there was simply no sign.