Beyond the Knock Knock Door (12 page)

‘Hurry or they'll catch us!'

The blips on Luke's radar multiplied as the triplets fled along the streets, ducking under sunfish and zigzagging through outdoor cafes. They rushed across a footbridge, only to retreat when more people spotted them from the other side. Tourists shouted their names, and within seconds everyone swarmed. Trapped, they backed into an art studio then bolted out the rear door. They hurtled down a narrow alley filled with dripping washing and children kicking a football.

‘When will they leave us alone?' Michael shouted.

‘Us?' Samantha said. ‘They're your fans – not ours.'

The crowd chased them past water acrobats, round a university and through a royal botanical garden. Most people fell away, but the holograph-hunters were relentless.

‘Enough running,' Luke said, turning and grabbing Michael.

‘Hey, what are you doing?'

‘Let them follow us now.'

Luke fired his jetpack but Michael's gold armour weighed too much. An urgent adjustment on his wristpad and –
BOOM!
– they blasted into the air. Thrill gripped them both in one giant rush as they rocketed out of reach, flying over terracotta roofs and church spires. Luke's shoulders quickly began to ache with the strain and he felt his brother slipping. He powered towards a neighbouring island's distinctive belltower and perched him there. It was round, ten storeys high, and every arched window featured the statue of a famous artist, musician or playwright. Michael kept watch as he waited for Luke to return with Samantha.

Pulling off his helmet, he scrubbed his sweaty hair free of its ponytail then leant against the statue of a lute player to marvel at the huge water tanker moored nearby. Pumps drained each of its six strange glass hulls, replenishing underground wells. Further along on a junk barge, a gang of Scorned children picked through a pyramid of discarded gowns, shoes, mattresses, toys, hand-crafted furniture, holographic broadcasters and rotten food before a marine chased them into the alleyways.

‘Remind me never to be famous,' Samantha said, stomping down the tower's spiralling steps.

‘Famous for what?' Luke asked, rolling out of his superheated jetpack. ‘Beard rash?'

‘Cute considering the only irritating thing here is you.'

‘Hardy har-har. Remind me to drop you next time.'

They found Michael talking to himself, recounting the conversations at lunch. From behind him, a light sea breeze eased the sharpness of spring.

‘I know that look,' she said, also removing her feathered hat. ‘Let me guess. You think Pasquale is hiding something.'

‘How'd you know?'

‘Hello? He
is
a politician.' She drank from the canteen Luke handed her then added, ‘Remember back at our old school when the gardener found a snake and the teachers kept telling us there was nothing to worry about? But we all knew something was wrong because a lot of people were running around? Well, a lot of people at the palace looked fairly frantic over a monster that's not supposed to exist.'

‘The Guido story is a lie. He didn't suddenly leave in the middle of the night. No ship is allowed to travel to or from Pacifico between dusk and dawn.'

‘And don't forget Guido's bedroom was torn apart.'

‘Then why is Prime Minister Pasquale lying?' Luke asked.

‘Is he?' Samantha countered. ‘Or is it Captain Cavalli? Funny how at dinner last night he said the monster was just a story, even though we were nearly its lunch.'

‘Why keep it a secret?'

‘To keep the city from panicking?' Michael offered.

‘Maybe it's a cover-up,' she said. ‘If people
are
going missing, Cavalli would be the first one blamed for poor security.'

This last suggestion killed the conversation. Unnerved, Michael stood and spied outside. He was surprised to see the lame palace footman, not dressed in his wig and royal-blue coat, but in beggar's rags. He met with a worker unloading a cargo ship, checked no one was watching then received a sack of goods. Without any more fuss, he hobbled back into the streets, glancing over his shoulder.

‘Is that the same cranky footman outside your room?' Luke asked beside him. ‘The pancake guy?'

Michael nodded.

‘Should we fly down there and stop him?' Luke asked.

‘Not yet. Let's just keep an eye on him. We've already got one mystery to solve.'

‘What mystery?' Samantha asked, slightly annoyed.

‘Nobleman Guido's disappearance. I should have listened to him. He kept pestering me at the banquet, but I ignored him. He seemed surprised that we'd found the monster. He also mentioned the disappearance of someone called the Red Samurai. Does your electronic library have anything on him?'

‘I'll check,' Luke said.

A hologram burst from his earpiece, showing a warrior with a fold-up fan and a slashing sword.

‘
Red Samurai
,' an electronic voice said in a professorial tone. ‘
Humanoid. Male. Deputy Leader of the legendary Hall of Heroes. One of the few active members of the Universal Security Force, which has been in decline for the past decade
–'

It listed his childhood, home planet and famous battles before Luke switched it off. ‘Don't you think it's a little weird that we found a samurai helmet in that rainforest?'

‘Yeah, it even looked like it had been in battle,' Michael said.

‘So the monster took Nobleman Guido
and
this Red Samurai?'

‘And who knows how many more.'

‘So what are we going to do?'

‘Keep an eye on Captain Cavalli, Pasquale and' – Michael looked outside again – ‘anyone else acting suspiciously. Maybe talk to Lady Isabelle and find out what she knows. Once we put the clues together, we can catch it.'

‘
What?
' Samantha almost yelled. ‘Now you want to
catch
this monster?'

‘Think about it, Sam. It all makes sense now. Why else would Mr Goode Deed pick us to come here? He knew Pacifico was in trouble and needed someone to help. He gave us these costumes because people would respect the Gold Knight.'

‘Are you nuts? This monster is eating people – and you think we're here to kill it? How? Keep running from it until it has a heart attack? Wake up to yourselves. We're not here to hunt monsters. We're not here to save Pacifico. We're not even here to have fun. We're here because some wacko wanted a laugh. The only ‘mystery' that needs solving is our way home. End of story.'

‘Aw, c'mon, Sis,' Luke said. ‘Surely even you must be getting a kick out of all this. Let's catch this creature
and
go home. We can walk through the Knock-Knock Door at any old time.'

‘Really? Well, Mr Know-It-All, unlike you, I was paying attention at dinner last night and not stuffing my face. When Michael blabbed to the Queen that we'd taken the wrong door, she didn't know what he meant. So I've been asking around myself and guess what? No one has ever
heard
of a Knock-Knock Door.'

They gaped at her.

‘You mean –'

‘Congratulations! We're stuck here. If you don't believe me, check your electronic thingummyjig.'

Luke did just that. Each time he keyed his wristpad, his electronic library scrolled with information about wooden doors, metal doors, garden gates, door-to-door salesmen, knock-knock jokes and even woodpeckers, but nothing about Knock-Knock Doors. ‘What are we going to do then?'

‘Find another one,' she said.

‘Or return to that waterfall at the Weeping Mountains,' Michael offered.

‘We're not going back there. We escaped the monster once. I'm not pushing our luck again.'

‘But it might be the only way home.'

‘Then you go and get yourself killed. Count me out. There must be another Door in this city, and I'm going to find it first.'

She spiralled downstairs and crossed the dock, scaring away some manta rays. Luke and Michael lingered before looking at each other, wondering how the other felt. Michael grinned and said, ‘First pick at the monster's treasure!'

Laughing, they ran across the island and began making plans for their hunt. After they left, a patrolling marine stopped at the base of the belltower and blinked at the statues above. Strange. He swore one just moved.

Michael wanted to puke. He staggered along a dark palace hallway, rubbing his stomach that sloshed with too many honey prawns. They'd looked so delicious at dinner, but now, bloated at two o'clock in the morning, he just wanted to press his belly button and flush them out. If only he could find a doctor – or a footman to fetch him one.

Suddenly, a hand seized him. It pulled him into a holographic painting and a second clapped over his mouth. Michael fought back. He heeled his attacker's foot and readied to elbow him in the guts when a boy quietly yelped, ‘Ow! Mikey! It's me!'

‘Luke? What –?'

‘Shhh!'

His brother gagged him again and pulled him deeper into the alcove. He then scoured the empty hallway as his visor scrolled with unhelpful data. Michael only saw squares of moonlight and readied to speak up when the holo-painting flickered. Its portrait
of a king riding a chariot twisted and distorted like bad television reception before fading to black with a whine. One by one, the other paintings lost power too and left the boys standing in the darkness.

Luke snapped back from the edge, his visor also failing. He shouldered Michael sideways and pressed him against the wall. For long seconds, they stood paralysed in the silence until the door at the end of the corridor slowly opened. No footsteps followed it. But an unseen presence entered, scouring the shadows.

It was swift, dangerous and unsettling. Evil seeped from its body like mist on a cemetery. It flitted between the windows as a blur, careful not to be spied by human eyes. It stopped at each curtain then flashed to a couch or marble bust without a sound. Purposefully, it stalked the hallway with the hunger of a predator.

Shuddering, the brothers tensed as they realised what approached them. The monster, here in the palace.

It stopped at a bedroom door and eased a knob to slip inside. Its dark form crept around the sleeping guest, who, awash with an instant prickling, twitched and rolled over in his sheets, unaware of the intruder. A few moments later the creature returned to the corridor and tried the next room. Again, its tingling presence hovered over the dormant occupant before re-emerging undetected. The brothers trembled as it stole into a third chamber and realised it had found the right room – Luke's room! It tore back the sheets, rifled through drawers and opened cupboards in the dark. Foolish curiosity got the better of Luke and he
curled his head around the corner, but Michael yanked him back. Just in time, too. The door clicked shut and the monster filled the hallway again, breathing thinly through its teeth.

Determined now, it dismissed the other quarters and headed towards the end of the hallway where Michael's room was located. The brothers cowered in the holo-painting, conscious that any second now they'd have to fight or flee.

Michael flinched. His little finger vibrated under his gauntlet. Startled, he jumped and his armour squeaked. The monster halted. In the stillness, it held its breath at the edge of the painting and listened. Both boys paled. Their stomachs clenched.

But just as it was about to strike, the monster retreated. It hurtled down the hallway then vanished.

It wasn't until all the holo-paintings powered up again that the brothers dared move. They groaned then slumped to their knees.

‘Idiot!' Luke said, punching Michael on the shoulder. ‘Give us away, why don't you!'

‘It's not my fault,' he answered. ‘You try living life inside a giant garbage can.'

‘I already do. It's called school.'

Luke turned on his bedroom light. Rather than finding his quarters ransacked, it was spotless.

‘It doesn't make sense,' he said. ‘What was the monster looking for?'

‘This,' Michael said, removing his gauntlet and the dead man's ring. It vibrated on his little finger three
more times before stopping. He now felt a lot more nervous about the sugar merchant's warning about curses. ‘I think it might be a detection device. It only buzzes when the monster gets close enough.'

‘Then how stupid is that?' Luke said, handling it. ‘The monster was close enough to eat us.' He ran his thumb around the ruby then the inscription. ‘Hey, what does “
Omnes aequo animo parent ubi digni imperant
” mean anyway?'

‘Say that again,' Michael said.

Luke did and, thanks to the slipper snail shell pendants round their necks, they both heard: ‘
All men cheerfully obey where worthy men rule.
'

‘It's Latin!' Michael said, feeling both relieved and foolish. He could have used his pendant to translate the inscription by now.

‘It's a quote from some ancient guy called Syrus,' Luke said, checking his database. ‘Source of origin: unknown. How come a planet on the other side of the universe is using an old Earth language?'

‘This is getting stranger all the time. We need to crack this code.'

‘What code?'

He pointed to 6-8-2235 engraved on the fake ruby under the seahorse.

‘Is it a date?' Luke suggested.

‘No, I've asked. It's way too far in the future.'

‘A maths puzzle?'

‘Not that I can tell.'

‘Then do the numbers spell out a word?'

Michael picked it up again and brightened. ‘That must be it! 6-8-2235 means the sixth letter, followed by the eighth letter, followed by the second, the second again, the third then the fifth letter.'

‘Okay, so what's the sixth letter of the alphabet?'

‘But is it our alphabet or theirs?'

The question dampened their enthusiasm until Michael had a brainwave: ‘I think we're meant to use the inscription:
Omnes aequo animo parent ubi digni imperant.
'

‘Then what's the sixth letter?'

They counted until they reached A in ‘
aequo
'.

‘The eighth?'

‘Q.'

‘The second?'

‘M.'

‘And M again. The third?'

‘N.'

‘And finally, the fifth letter is S.'

‘A-Q-M-M-N-S?'

‘That doesn't spell anything, even with our translators.'

For several long minutes they stared at it until they reached the same conclusion. ‘It's
not
the sixth letter followed by the eighth letter, followed by the second twice, then the third and the fifth –' Michael said.

‘6-8-2235 means the sixth letter, followed by the eighth letter, followed by the twenty-second, then the thirty-fifth!'

‘A-Q-U-A.'

‘Aqua!'

‘Water!' they both shouted at once.

They filled a pitcher with tap water then plopped the dead man's ring inside. Fearing that it might explode or trigger a poisoned needle, their guess was rewarded when the fake ruby flipped open and projected a hologram. It swivelled with a three-dimensional image of a theatre then a red-haired girl's face. They retrieved it and heard a smooth, elegant voice ordering: ‘
Lady Isabelle. Piermarini Theatre. Twenty minutes
.' The ruby closed again.

‘Lady Isabelle is Nobleman Guido's sister, isn't she?' Luke asked.

‘She must be headed to the theatre now. But that also means –'

‘The ring isn't a warning device, but a receiver and that –'

‘The monster has one too!'

The brothers sprinted past a trio of marines, across the royal bridge and into the fog. The city was completely deserted.

‘Why were you hiding in that holo-painting anyway?' Michael asked, his stomach sloshing as he tried to keep pace.

Luke smirked. ‘I'd just put an octopus in Sam's room.'

They followed his electronic radar to the eastern district, the hub of the city's playhouses. The Piermarini wasn't the biggest theatre of its type, but it was certainly the grandest. Crafted from sandstone, its interiors were
painted blue, gilded with gold and lined with marble statues of actors and opera singers. Its main auditorium seated thirteen hundred patrons across four arcing tiers. Chandeliers hung from a lofty ceiling and private balconies came with high-backed chairs. Props from a previous performance gathered dust amid a dozen or so crates on a large wooden stage above an orchestra pit.

Luke and Michael padded towards the last of these, abandoning haste for caution. If it wasn't suspicious enough that the front doors were unbolted, the lights were switched on.

‘Anything?' Michael asked.

Luke shook his head. ‘My radar doesn't work inside. Wait! What was that?'

Both boys dropped behind a pair of seats and Michael drew his sword. He found the experience unnerving – he'd never readied it for real combat.

Soon, delicate footsteps crossed the wooden stage and a girl with red hair appeared from behind the curtains in a brown and yellow hourglass gown trimmed with mink. ‘Hello?' she called out. ‘Friend, are you here?'

The two brothers stood up. ‘Lady Isabelle! Down here!'

‘Sir Michael? Agent Luke?' she called out, pressing a hand to her bosom. ‘Good sirs. You gave me such a fright. I'm relieved to find you here and not some other stranger at such an hour.'

‘Why
are
you here?' Michael asked, sheathing his sword and moving towards her.

She stopped. ‘Was it not you who sent this note about my brother, Guido?'

The trio blinked at each other as they realised the same awful truth.

‘It's a trap!'

The chandeliers flickered as they drained of power, and Michael yelled, ‘Quick! The monster's here!'

They fled into the streets, racing past the clock tower, across the central plaza then north towards the markets. Behind them,
blink! blink! blink!
Electric lamps snuffed out in pairs. The night sky collapsed and the alleyways lost shape. Frantic, they tumbled through the fog.

SHHHRRRIIIEEEKKK!

Their minds swirled in agony and their knees buckled. Luke was first to recover. He helped Isabelle to her feet then Michael, who again felt the monster's evil presence. It spread wide among the columns, arches and stairwells, flapping above their heads and itching on their necks. It shadowed, cornered and teased them, ready to strike at its choosing. One moment it flashed across the flagstones; the next, it jumped between the rooftops!

‘I can't see anything!' Luke shouted, scanning with his infra-red as they ran.

‘The monster has no body,' Isabelle yelled back. ‘Don't let it steal your life!'

She veered into a maze of terraces and laneways devoid of moonlight. The brothers chased her across a footbridge then leapt back to the original side further along the canal. Just when they thought they'd lost the
creature, the fog swirled and split with a distant –

SHHHRRRIIIEEEKKK!

The creature was too far away now to affect them. However, they faced a new danger. Prowling along the streets were two great white pointers!

They turned into the canal, heads swinging side to side with jagged rows of hungry teeth. Their eyes were an unnatural milky colour and their movements jerky, as if they weren't in full control of their powerful, gun-metal grey bodies. Trembling behind a steel bench, Luke and Isabelle crouched alongside Michael, who hoped they'd remain unseen. The sharks' internal sensors were smarter, however. They locked on the trio and thrust forward.

Bang!
The first shark crashed into a footbridge as the trio sprinted under it and further along the canal. The second also torpedoed but chomped stone as they dashed right into a colonnade of arches. Frantically, they shook door handles and strained against a bank window, screaming for somebody to let them in. But it was nearly three in the morning; everyone was at home.

The second white pointer flashed past on the other side of the arches to cut them off. The trio braked hard as the shark lunged at them, jaws open. Michael gripped his sword. Luke reached into his pouches, found the pull-string parcel and lobbed it into its mouth. The shark swallowed then thrashed away, choking on an inflatable six-man raft.

‘Behind us!' Isabelle shouted as the first white pointer
hurtled the length of the colonnade. It flushed them out alongside the canal again, past rows of gondolas and mooring poles, before curving in for the kill. They leapt inside a tight-fitting shed where a wooden powerboat hung suspended from the roof.
Crack!
It rocked violently on its chains as the shark accidentally rammed it.

Fleeing through the rear, Isabelle grabbed the brothers and dragged them down into an empty underground tavern called the Lobster Pot. Breaking inside, they shut the door behind them then hid behind a sticky bar, listening to the second shark hammer against the door. Soon, the poundings stopped and the seconds sweated by. The relief was short-lived, how ever. A street lamp flickered outside and their fright nearly brought them undone.

The front door clicked open. The hinges whined. Soon, foul breathing engulfed the room and slipped among the upturned chairs. Michael trembled. He wanted to reach for his sword but was racked with fear. Some hero he was.

Suddenly, an alarm bell pealed and voices shouted from above, ‘Shark! Shark!' For the second time that night, just as the monster readied to attack, it was forced to retreat. It slipped into the fog as leather boots ran in their direction.

‘Marines!' Luke whispered, watching dozens of silhouettes stretch across the Lobster Pot's walls. Sensing the monster had fled, he and his brother peeked over the bar until Isabelle touched their arms.

‘Leave them,' she said. ‘They won't find the creature. Come. We must talk.'

Standing outside a run-down church, Michael stomped through the planks boarding up the back door then tore off a faulty lock to enter. Lady Isabelle lit several candle stubs while Luke double-checked the confessionals, pews and mezzanine level. Above a crucified Christ was a holy verse printed large and in Latin:
Administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another. Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the alien or the poor.