Warlord's Revenge (4 page)

As the scholars approached, John looked closely. He was surprised to see that, although both were wearing long academic robes and looked so frail and ancient that a strong wind might blow them over, they were very different to each other. The scholar who had spoken had a large, bulbous head, wrinkled with papery purple skin, and ringed with blinking eyes. He stood slightly taller than the second, a frail, six-armed female who was hunched over, John assumed from the weight of her years. So thin, she looked almost like a walking skeleton, she leaned on the purple-skinned scholar’s arm as she shuffled forward.

“Welcome to Kerallin. I am Socrat,” wheezed the purple-skinned scholar, as the two stopped before the class. He inclined his head towards the other scholar. “This is Aristil.”

“It appears Sergeant Jegger has done a commendable job educating you in Space Flight,” said Aristil, looking along the row of students. John leaned forward, straining to hear her soft voice. Aristil’s eyes, he noticed, glittered with intelligence. “You made the trip in two hours and sixteen minutes,” she went on. “The second-fastest time ever.”

Kaal nudged John again. “Well done,” he whispered from the corner of his mouth.

“You would all benefit from some extra tuition in Cosmic Languages, however,” the six-armed scholar continued, looking less pleased. “None of you managed to translate the instruction to activate the ship’s cloaking device.”

John heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. “I’m so
dumb
,” Emmie hissed. “‘Cloaking device’, not ‘
coat’
.”

“Further tests will start in the assembly hall in one hour,” said Socrat. “In the meantime, we thought you might enjoy a short tour of the planet. Refreshments have been provided on our hoverbus. Please board here.”

With wind whipping through his hair, John gazed over Kerallin as the gleaming craft skimmed across the planet. They had passed the complex of towers, learning from Socrat that each housed a different department of study, and flown through carefully tended gardens containing plants from hundreds of worlds. Now the hoverbus sped along a river valley of lush green. An astonishing variety of animals had come to the water’s edge to drink, wash, and play. As the hoverbus flashed by, John thought he saw a pink elephant-like creature trumpeting water into the air. He turned to stare, but the animal was already out of sight.

“Mmmm, this is good,” he said, lowering his drink.

On the seat in front of him, Aristil turned. “Goldberry juice,” she told him. “Goldberries are the only fruit that is native to this planet and only grow in Kerallin’s equatorial regions. Unless you return as a scholar one day, you will almost certainly never taste them again.”

“I thought the scholars were – you know – a single
species
,” said Emmie, “and Kerallin was their home world.”

“Oh no,” Aristil answered in a quivering voice. “Kerallin was an uninhabited dust planet before the first scholars terraformed it.” She waved at the animals. “Like most of the plants and all the wildlife, the scholars have arrived here from every corner of the universe.” She smiled. “Kerallin is a retreat for the universe’s greatest thinkers, a place to continue their studies in peace when they decide to retire from the cares of the universe.”

“You mean it’s one big, brainy old peoples’ home?” John blurted. Realizing how rude that sounded, he blushed. “Sorry, that came out wrong...”

“Never be afraid to call something what is really is,” Aristil replied with another smile. “Yes, Kerallin is ‘one big, brainy old peoples’ home’, though we ‘old people’ like to tell ourselves that we still do useful work.”

“What did
you
do, before you came here?” Emmie asked.

“Me, my dear? Why, I was headmistress of Hyperspace High.” Seeing the looks of astonishment on the students’ faces, Aristil laughed. “I haven’t always been as old as this,” she said, her eyes glittering. For a split second John could see that she had once been very beautiful. “Ah,” the scholar continued, “our tour is up. Here’s the assembly hall. Let’s see what you have learned at Hyperspace High, shall we?”

The hoverbus stopped at the bottom of a set of wide steps leading up to the grandest of the towers. The students made their way up to an ornately carved doorway, where exotic flowers bloomed on each side. Now that they were actually on Kerallin and about to face the scholars in person, most were nervous. Only Mordant climbed the steps as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“I didn’t study hard enough, I didn’t study hard enough,” Raytanna repeated to herself over and over. Her normally smooth forehead was creased with worry.

“Raytanna, the only time you don’t study is when you eat,” Werril told her.

Emmie gripped John’s arm. He looked into her terrified eyes. “What is life but a series of tests?” he said gently. “We can only face them with courage.”

“John,” Emmie whispered.

“Yes?”

“Please shut up.”

John grinned. “It sounded better when the headmaster said it,” he said. “Come on, you’ll be fine. Kaal and I will be right next to you.”

Together, the three of them stepped through the doorway. Globes of light illuminated a passageway, which was lined with holographic portraits of past scholars. Whispering quietly, the students walked through, footsteps echoing on the marble floor. A soft gasp ran through the class as it reached the main chamber of the assembly hall.

The walls were covered in rich carvings, representing all the different academic fields. John understood only a tiny fraction, but here and there were mathematical laws that he had seen before. Soft light filtered through tall windows of coloured glass that were arranged in strange, but beautiful, patterns. At one end of the room was a raised platform. Higher still, a semicircle of twenty throne-like carved chairs looked down upon it. Every chair was occupied.

“The students will approach the dais and wait to be called upon,” boomed a voice from the far end of the hall.

“This isn’t at all nerve-racking,” joked Lishtig, as the class stepped across deep rugs and lined up before the platform.

John had been feeling nervous before Lorem’s calming words. Looking up at the scholars in their massive thrones, his nerves now threatened to become outright terror. The scholars of Kerallin, it seemed, had gone out of their way to make the students feel as small as possible. Aristil had taken a seat at one end, and Socrat at the other. Between them were eighteen scholars from eighteen different planets. Only their academic robes were the same. Most were creatures that John had never seen before. One had a face that looked like an intricate silver mask; another’s body was covered in long spikes. About halfway along was an elderly Derrilian, his red eyes full of curiosity and fixed on Kaal.

“Each of you will step onto the dais and answer a single question in turn,” the voice said. John wondered where it was coming from. None of the scholars had spoken. “First, Mordant Talliver.”

John watched as the black-haired half-Gargon mounted the steps. Mordant stood at ease, as if he owned the planet, gazing up at the scholars with confidence.

A tiny being with fish-scale skin and the most enormous pair of spectacles John had ever seen spoke first. “I am Scholar Ulara Forshart. Mordant Talliver, translate for me the phrase, ‘
Eshli car shou torashla y eshli cerashadil cormawan.
’”

Mordant answered in a heartbeat. “Those who have knowledge speak, but those who have wisdom listen,” he said. “It is ancient Elvian, Scholar Forshart. One of the sayings of the philosopher Volaxian Hardesh.”

“Very good. You may step down, Mordant.”

“I
knew
that,” whispered Emmie at John’s side. “Why couldn’t they give
me
that one.”

John squeezed her hand.

When Mordant had stepped back into line, the old Derrilian spoke. “Lishtig ar Steero.”

“Oh boy, here we go,” muttered Lishtig, as he climbed the steps.

“Good morning, Lishtig, I am Scholar Deem,” said the Derrilian. “In biology, DNA carries the genetic code for over eighty per cent of all galactic life forms. But for which three advanced species do silipeteronuclaic cells, also known as SPCs, perform the same function?”

Lishtig glanced back at Gobi-san-Art. “Well, the Koo-rag-tar is one. I know that because one of them’s my best mate,” he said.

The corner of the Derrilian’s mouth twitched.

“Umm... the other two are... hang on, I know this... the Skar of planet Tharlon Four... and... and the Ghuremalite of planet Ghurem.”

“Indeed. Thank you, Lishtig.”

“Raytanna Vitor,” said the mask-faced scholar.

Raytanna took her place on the platform, head hanging and her hands gripped into fists at her side.

“I am Scholar Silva, Raytanna. In robotics, how many degrees of freedom are required in the construction of a fully working humanoid hand?”

Raytanna’s head jerked up. “But that’s
easy
!” she exclaimed. “Every textbook agrees that twenty degrees of freedom are necessary, but I have been running my own tests, which suggest an extra two degrees in the carpal region would give additional strength and flexibility. In addition—”

“Thank you, Raytanna. You may step down now,” the scholar interrupted.

“Sorry, sorry,” Raytanna gabbled.

“Not at all. Your research sounds fascinating. We must find time to speak before you leave.”

Kaal was next. Despite his earlier confidence, he was visibly shaking as he stood before the scholars. John knew that his shy room-mate hated being the centre of attention.

From the corner of his eye, John saw the elderly Derrilian flash three fingers at Kaal – a Derrilian thumbs-up – and then cover the movement by scratching his nose. For the first time since entering the hall, John felt himself smile.

Kaal’s question was on astrophysics. John knew it wasn’t one of his friend’s best subjects, but the hunched Elvian scholar seemed satisfied with his answer and told Kaal to return to his place.

“Cool, well done, mate,” John whispered as Kaal stood next to him, wiping sweaty palms on his uniform.

“John Riley.”

On legs of jelly, John stepped up onto the dais.

I won’t let them see how nervous I am.

Straightening his posture, John lifted his chin and clasped his hands behind his back.

“An Earthling,” wheezed a particularly old being – a tiny creature with grey, spotted skin and a nose that hung down to his waist. “We’ve never had an Earthling before, have we?”

John felt a blush rise to his face as a number of the scholars leaned forward to inspect him.

“They call themselves human beings, Thushlar. He’s the first to attend Hyperspace High,” said Socrat.

“Earthlings, human beings – can’t they make their minds up?” wheezed the old being. “Never mind, never mind. As you have probably gathered, I am Scholar Thushlar. Tell me, what is the square root of three million, nine-hundred and twenty-eight thousand, three hundred and twenty-four?”

John’s shoulders slumped with relief. Maths was by far his best subject. Numbers were the same in every galaxy, and he had always had a talent for solving mathematical problems. Even so, it was a fiendishly difficult question to tackle without a calculator.

Break it down... Factorize into prime numbers... pair... carry over... check the result... check again...

“One thousand, nine hundred, and eighty-two, sir.”

Thushlar sat back in his throne. “Correct,” he said. “Fast. I like that in a mathematician.”

“Thank you, Scholar Thushlar.”

“And polite, too. Maybe Hyperspace High should get more of these Earthling human beings.”

Liking the wheezy old alien more and more, John grinned up at him.

“That will do,
for now
, John Riley. Back to your place.”

Emmie was the last to face the scholars. By the time she climbed the steps, John could tell she was a nervous wreck. Unable to hold herself still, she folded her arms, then put them behind her back, then pushed silver hair out of her eyes.

It seemed that the scholars had also noticed. “Emmie Tarz,” Aristil said gently, “in the third Quesney War, what was the name of the general who led the rebel Parshian forces?”

John winced. Of all the subjects the scholars could have chosen for Emmie, Hyperspace History was the worst. She hated it and constantly confused the names and dates of important events. Aristil might as well have asked her to name every soldier who took part in the third Quesney War. He glanced up at Kaal, who shook his head. There was nothing they could do.

On stage, Emmie stood in absolute silence. John could only see the back of her head, but he knew she would be biting her lip. He felt a horrible tight feeling in his chest as he watched his friend tremble.

Silence.

“I’m afraid I will have to hurry you.”

“I-I d-don’t... ugh... is it... no, n-not h-him.”

“Emmie Tarz?”

“
General Looshid
!” Emmie blurted.

Aristil frowned. “That answer is incorrect.”

“It was General Kaskov!” shouted Mordant. “General Trutley bo Kaskov.”

The scholars ignored him. As one they stood. At the end of the line, Socrat took a step forward. “For the next test, we invite you all to visit our library. If you would kindly follow Aristil and myself.”

Tears ran down Emmie’s face as she slipped back into her place. John put an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s OK, Emmie,” said Kaal. “They’re not going to fail you for one wrong answer.”

“You don’t
know
that, Kaal,” she answered, her eyes sparkling with tears of pale blue. “What if they do? And there’s more tests yet to come. I’m bound to get all those wrong, too. What if they ask me to leave? Even worse, what if they fail the entire class? If Hyperspace High fails an inspection for the first time ever, it will be all my fault.”

John hardly noticed where Aristil and Socrat were leading. Emmie had dried her eyes, but her shoulders remained slumped. She walked in gloomy silence as the two scholars shuffled slowly through gardens overflowing with strange and beautiful blooms, her eyes fixed on the path ahead. On either side of her, John and Kaal exchanged worried glances.

“The Library of Kerallin,” said Socrat. “Here, all the knowledge of the universe is stored.”

John jumped. Wrapped up in his own thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that the class had arrived at the domed building he had noticed earlier. Up close, it was enormous – a small village could easily have been built inside – and the only modern-looking building among the towers.

A flicker of green light washed over the old scholar’s face, as a hidden retina scanner checked his identity.

“Socrat of Tersia Prime,” said an electronic voice. “Enter.”

The doors swung open.

John had been expecting a library similar to Hyperspace High’s, where ancient books were kept behind glass and students could view their contents on ThinScreens. Instead, the sight that met his eyes was unlike anything he’d ever imagined. At his side, even Emmie breathed, “Wow” under her breath and gazed around in wonder.

Gleaming shelves reached to the ceiling. Not one held a book. Every shelf was separated into small compartments, and every compartment was occupied by a shining ball of coloured light. There were hundreds of globes on the shelves he could see, and, at the centre of the library, even more rows radiated outward like spokes on a wheel.

“What are they?” he whispered.

On either side, Emmie and Kaal looked baffled. “No idea,” said Kaal, staring at the glimmering balls above his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Aristil walked forward and took a globe from the nearest shelf in one of her many hands. Turning back to face the class, she ran another hand across its glowing red surface. Instantly, the globe grew until it was the size of a beachball.

“It looks like a planet,” said Emmie.

“This time, you are quite correct, Emmie,” the scholar said. “The planet Yaroh Tar, to be exact. The globe contains the essence of the world – its rocks and mountains, its underground lakes, and, of course, its complete history.”

Stepping forward to stand at her side, Socrat waved a hand towards the stacked shelves. “The library contains a globe for every planet in the universe,” he said, with a hint of pride in his voice. “You will find nothing like it anywhere else in the universe.”

“I d-don’t understand,” Kaal stuttered. “Those aren’t holograms. The technology to make something like that doesn’t exist,
anywhere
.”

Socrat leaned forward, his already quiet voice dropping to a whisper. “Young Derrilian,” he said, “the scholars of Kerallin choose when to share their discoveries and inventions with the universe. So far, we have not chosen to share our library. In the wrong hands, the power of such knowledge would be very dangerous indeed.”

Aristil clapped her hands together, the noise echoing from the shelves. “Your next task,” she said, “is to prepare a Galactic Geography presentation. You will use the globe that represents your home world to prepare a presentation for the scholars. Extra marks will be given to those who are able to tell us something that extends our own knowledge. The best presentation will win a special award.”

John’s hand shot up. “Can you... errr... tell us where to find the right globes? There must be thousands in here,” he said.

Aristil smiled again. She and Socrat began shuffling towards the exit. “It wouldn’t be much of a test if we gave you all the answers now, would it?” she said.

“Don’t take too long finding your planets!” Socrat called over his shoulder. “The presentations begin in three hours.”

The students spread out, gazing up in awe at the tiny glowing planets. “A special award,” said Emmie in an excited whisper. “Did you hear that? Aristil said there would be a special award for the best presentation. If I win, I might still pass the inspection.”

“Good thinking,” John replied. “But first we need to find the right globes. It could take days.”

Up ahead, Lishtig leaned over a shelf. “Hey, this one says it’s planet Fy-Ix-Cero,” he shouted. “Anyone here from Fy-Ix-Cero?”

Seeing the students around him shake their heads, he grinned. “Oh well, only another few thousand to get through.” He moved along to the next globe. “How about Garshom Ssvene?”

“The planets must be organized in a logical system,” Raytanna said, running a long, white finger along a shelf. “We only need to understand that system.”

“Maybe they’re arranged alphabetically?” John suggested.

Kaal shook his head. “It would be impossible to arrange so many worlds alphabetically,” he said. “For a start, most of them have different languages, some of which are impossible to translate.”

“Perhaps they’re organized by size,” said Emmie, wandering up to the centre of the library, where a ring of glowing circular panels were set in the floor, surrounded by desks and MorphSeats. “What’s the biggest planet in the universe?”

“No,” said Raytanna thoughtfully. “Too many planets would be similar in size. It must be something else.”

By now, Kaal had reached the end of the row. “Hey!” he shouted back. “Every row has a number! Look! This one is zero-zero-one, the next row is zero-zero-two, and so on.”

The other students clustered around him. “How’s that supposed to help us?” asked Werril doubtfully.

Kaal’s straightened up, his eyes shining. “I’ve got it!” he shouted. “It’s obvious when you think about it. The planets are arranged by planetary number. Each row is a different galaxy, and the globes must be numbered according to their solar system and position.” Turning to Emmie, he said, “What’s Silar’s planetary number?”

Emmie looked at him blankly. “Is that something I’m supposed to know?” she asked.

Kaal sighed. “Silar is in the Zeta Galaxy, that’s the twenty-fourth.” He ran to row zero-two-four. “There are six hundred and thirty-seven solar systems in that region. Silar orbits Skylara, number three-eight-two.” Kaal’s forehead creased in concentration as he counted shelves. “Oh, they’re grouped into hundreds, that’s sensible,” he muttered. Raising his voice, he shouted, “How many planets in the Skylara system, Emmie?”

“Oh, I know that,” Emmie replied brightly. “Six, Silar is the second.”

“So the planetary number is zero-two-four-point-three-eight-two-point-zero-two,” he said, reaching up to a shelf. “And here’s Silar.”

“Brilliant, Kaal,” said Emmie, as he dropped the small globe into her hands. “Now all we’ve got to do is find out how these things work.”

The library filled with excited whoops as students scurried down rows and found their own planets. Only John was left looking around, still baffled. “Umm... I have no idea what Earth’s planetary number is, either,” he said nervously
.

Kaal grinned. “Luckily for you, Mars is one of the most famous planets in the universe. I know its number by heart. We’ll just find that and Earth will be the next one along the shelf.”

Earth’s globe was on a top shelf, near the top of the domed ceiling.

“Are we supposed to climb up the shelves?” John asked, frowning.

“You could try that, I suppose,” answered Kaal. “Or you could ask a friend who just happens to have a magnificent set of wings.” The Derrilian’s huge wings snapped out.

“Umm... Kaal. Do you think flying’s such a good idea in here?” Emmie said.

She was too late. Kaal had already leapt upward, his leathery wings thrashing. Swirling gusts of air blew John and Emmie’s hair back, as their friend flew towards the ceiling.

“
Kaal
!” Emmie shrieked, as the first globe fell.

“Look out!” cried Emmie. “ You’re creating too much turbulence.”

John dived, catching the precious globe just before it hit the floor. Another plummeted downward. “
Kaal
!” Emmie screamed again, as she plucked the globe out of the air. “Come down... Oh no, John. There’s another—”

“Got it.” John caught another globe, as Emmie put hers gently on the floor and ran backward, her eyes fixed on another globe that had been blown off its shelf by Kaal’s flapping wings. “Quick Emmie, two more coming!” John shouted.

“What were you two shouting about?” asked Kaal a few moments later as he landed lightly, another globe in his hands. “I couldn’t hear you up there... Oww,
Emmie
. What was that for?” he finished, as Emmie pushed him roughly to one side.

Emmie caught a globe that would have smashed on Kaal’s head and held it before his eyes. “Oops,” said Kaal, noticing the other fallen spheres and looking sheepish. “Did I...? Are any...”

“We got them all,” Emmie replied with a raised eyebrow. “But don’t do that again.”

“We are such idiots. Look, there’s a lift here,” said John, dragging over a platform on wheels and replacing the fallen globes.

“Oops... Well, anyway, here’s Earth,” said Kaal, passing John the globe he had fetched.

John immediately forgot about the near-catastrophe. Before his eyes was a tiny Earth. Clouds moved slowly over the familiar shape of continents: the Americas, Africa, Europe, Asia, Australia. John reached out and gently touched the shape of Britain.
Home
.

“Thankfully, there’s no damage done,” said Emmie, interrupting John’s thoughts. “Come on, let’s get on with the presentations.”

Each carrying their own planet, the three of them hurried back to the centre of the library. There, Raytanna had discovered that placing a globe above one of the glowing floor panels allowed the planet to float in the air. Most of the students were already running their hands over the surfaces of their globes, calling out advice to their neighbours.

“Spinning makes time go backward and forward!” called Werril.

“And you can zoom in and out by tapping on an area,” added Gobi. “Like in the holo-lab back at school.”

The Earth globe was light in John’s hands and grew slightly in size when he stroked the surface. He slid a hand across its surface again and stepped back quickly as it increased to the size of a weather balloon.

“Cool, Queelin, your planet looks like one big desert. Look at the size of those sand dunes.” John looked up to see Lishtig with his nose pressed close to Queelin’s globe.

“It
is
a desert,” Queelin replied. She pointed. “We have some water, though. Look, here’s Oasis City, where I live. It’s built around the biggest pool on the planet.”

Despite the three-hour deadline for their presentations, most of the students were curious to see their classmates’ home planets and were eagerly walking around looking at the different worlds. Only Mordant was busy working with his own globe.
h
alf-Gargon, half-Tiqlar, he had chosen Gargon for his presentation. From across the circle, the planet looked dark and gloomy to John.

Unable to resist, John peered at Kaal’s world. Derril was a planet of grey craggy mountains and steep cliffs. Trees rose as high as skyscrapers from deep gorges filled with dense vegetation. Here and there, John could see Derrilians swooping through the sky, landing on balconies of elegantly built wooden “nests” that were built into cliff faces.

Turning, John looked over Emmie’s shoulder. “That’s beautiful!” he gasped. Candy-floss clouds, tinged with pink, drifted across continents of pale yellows and greens. Here and there were ranges of snow-capped mountains, waterfalls tumbling into wide lakes and rivers.

“Thanks,” said Emmie shyly. “Some people call Silar the ‘Jewel of the Galaxy’.” Peering across at Earth, she continued, “But your planet is spectacular, too. Look at all that water! You’re so lucky to have such vast oceans.”

John pointed to Britain. “That’s the country I live in,” he said. “It’s completely surrounded by sea.” He spun the Earth absent-mindedly, then stared. As Gobi had said, time moved backward. Millions of years passed in the blink of an eye. Continents moved. Now Europe and North America joined together as one huge continent. South America floated free on its own. India moved away from Asia, and the Himalayan Mountains fell to become a flat coast.

Fascinated, John flicked his fingers over North America. Now he could see dense forests and wide plains. Volcanoes spilled fiery rock. John’s eyes widened as he zoomed in closer still. A tyrannosaurus rex ran across grassland, roaring in victory as its powerful claws ripped into a hadrosaur. John moved the globe slightly and watched as a pterodactyl launched itself from a cliff.

“Hey, look at that,” said Kaal behind him. A thick green finger jabbed towards the pterodactyl over John’s shoulder. “That guy looks a bit like me.”

“It’s a dinosaur, Kaal. They died out millions of years ago,” John replied. He spun the globe in the opposite direction and zoomed in on an area of France. A group of dirty-looking men wrapped in animal skins squatted around the body of a mammoth, stripping it with stone knives. “Those are my ancestors: primitive humans,” he said in awe.

“I didn’t think it was possible for humans to be any more primitive than they are now.”

Whirling round, John saw that Mordant had left his own globe and was now staring at Earth, lip curled in a sneer. John’s hands balled into fists. While his friends might joke about “primitive” Earthlings, from Talliver’s mouth the word sounded exactly as it was meant – like a deadly insult.

“At least Earth looks like a nice place to live,” Emmie snapped back before John could speak. “Gargon’s one big swamp.”

“I’d rather live in a swamp than some pathetic little planet that doesn’t even know there are far more intelligent life forms in the universe,” Mordant replied. “Wait until you see my presentation on Gargon. With everything my planet’s achieved, I can’t fail to win the special award.”

As the half-Gargon stalked back to his own globe, John forced himself to relax. Spinning Earth once more, he flicked his fingers over Britain. Flicking his fingers again and again, he zoomed in on his town, street, and house.

“This is incredible,” he whispered. “The globe is collecting every scrap of information from Earth in real time.” Leaning forward, he watched as his dad threw a ball for the new family dog, Super Rover. The little Jack Russell ran across the garden to fetch it.