Future Tense (29 page)

“Don't do this, man,” I said.

He tried to fling me off. Jemmons and I both held onto him. But he was way too strong. Jemmons, however, had been a former arm-wrestling champion on board His Majesty's Ships and was more of a match for him. He managed to twist the shock stick from his grip and make him drop it. And then I was on my own for a few terrifying seconds, clinging to the droid's back, while Jemmons bent down to pick up the stick. He was turning Emma and me around and around and we were in danger of spinning off the wall and down into the courtyard with him. And then I heard a loud whack followed by electrical crackles and spits. Smoke started to billow from the guard's sparking head.

It was whirling round and round, out of control, but it still wouldn't release Emma. I did the only thing I could think of to make it stop—I rugby tackled it. The android and Emma and I crunched to the ground. Jemmons fell on it and wrenched its arm from Emma's throat and I pulled her clear. We all stepped back. The android climbed to its feet and continued to turn round and round in circles. And then its head exploded and the headless body staggered off along the walkway towards the CASTLE AMUSEMENTS CO building, bumping into things and tripping over, but never quite managing to fall off the wall.

“You blew his mind,” I said.

Suddenly, there was a loud WHEEEE noise and we all looked up to see that a bright red firework had exploded high up in the night sky above the Castle.

“Fireworks?” I said.

“That's a naval maroon,” said Jemmons. “The squadron must be on its way. Come on—we'd better get out of here before they start shelling.”

“Shelling?” I exclaimed. “The Castle?”

“Aye,” said Jemmons. “With incendiaries—to do for that thing.”

“But what about all the prisoners—the guards?”

“There're bunkers in the basement. They'll close the fire doors.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” said Emma, hands on hips.

We all hurried along the battlement walkway to the corner turret.

“Right,” said Jemmons. “I've got an idea—Emma first.”

“No!” cried Emma. “I'm not going first.”

We heard the characteristic Doppler effect of a whistling incoming missile. Followed by a massive explosion—but it was outside the wall on the eastern side. A ball of fiery smoke rolled up. A foul smell wafted over.

“What is that smell?” I complained.

“Sulphur dioxide,” said Jemmons. “They use brimstone in the incendiaries.”

“How Old Testament. It smells like rotten eggs.”

“That was a range finder,” said Jemmons. “Come on—there's not much time. Emma, hold onto Stephen's ankles and I'll lower you both over the wall. You shouldn't have far to drop.”

“No way,” said Emma.

There were two more incoming whistles and the whole battlement rocked, huge explosions of flame burst over the courtyard. The giant squid reared two rows of tentacles and let out a defiant squawk. More fire bombs rained in wobbling our turret, making it feel flimsy, one of them scored a direct hit on the infirmary, which was immediately enveloped in flames. The heat on the battlement was now so intense it felt like someone had opened a kiln door.

“How do we do this?” shouted Emma, above the racket of whistling bombs, crackling flames and the shrieking squid.

“Stephen, you get up on the wall and take my hands,” said Jemmons. I duly climbed up and took his hands. “Now, you, Emma, climb onto Stephen's back and slowly slide down until you feel your feet kick the side of the wall. Then you feel about and find his ankles and hold on as tightly as you can. Got that?”

“I think so,” said Emma.

Emma got up on the wall and gingerly lowered herself onto my back.

“I had no idea this was going to be so nice,” I said.

“Don't make me laugh,” said Emma.

“Sorry.”

“Right, now push yourself down him, Emma,” said Jemmons. “That's it.”

She stalled. “I can't—I can't!” she cried.

“Keep going, Em,” I said. “This place is going to be barbecued any minute.”

The well of the courtyard was a raging wall of flame, virtually obscuring the communications block from view—the giant squid appeared to be gone.

I felt her start to move again, very slowly.

“Oh, my God!” I cried.

“What?” said Emma. “I didn't do anything!”

“Look!”

They followed my stunned gaze—the Princess was running towards us along the burning battlement, leaping through flames.

“Stephen!” she waved.

She bounded up onto the turret.

“But you were dead,” I said.

She swivelled her hip round and showed us a rip in the back of her biggles. “Look,” she said. “The knife went in here, but it missed every vital organ and now the wound has sort of sealed up—it did not even bleed very much.”

We all stared at the tear she was holding open for us. There was a small red gash where the blade had gone in, but nothing else. Her biggles, however, was split and torn all over and she was showing plenty of flesh. But she was so glamorous that she reminded me of an exotic dancer rather than a woman who had just been in a war zone.

“That is remarkable,” I said.

Suddenly, the CASTLE AMUSEMENTS CO building exploded and burst into a ball of flame—we all flinched. Shards of burning plastic cascaded into the air and drifted down over the hillside like tickertape.

“Where is Doctor Zirconion?” she said.

“He's already down there,” said Jemmons. “Give me a hand here, Your Highness.”

Emma was holding me tightly around the waist and resting her cheek against my back. She felt snug and warm on me. I think that was as far down my body as she was prepared to go. Jemmons settled for that and he and the Princess began lowering us down the outside of the wall. Emma let out a few quiet squeals of unease, but held on bravely. I kept my eyes on Jemmons's face, watching the signs of extreme exertion increase as he bore the weight of us both. I couldn't see the Princess and assumed she must be anchoring him. And then, to my alarm, Jemmons himself started to come over the battlement—headfirst—and even he looked surprised. He was now holding my hands like a trapeze artiste—while the Princess stood up on the tower and held him by the ankles!

“Let go, Em!” I gasped. “You're not far.”

She unclamped her hands and I felt her weight leave me immediately. I heard Jemmons let out a sigh of relief—and then the thud of Emma in the snow.

“Okay, Em?” I called, unable to see her, with my face turned to the wall. She was directly behind me somewhere.

“Okay!” she called up.

“Look out,” I said. I let go and dropped onto the bank of powdery snow, landed both feet, fell backwards and pitched into a drift. Emma's hands were quickly on me, helping me up. Then we both stood aside and watched Jemmons push himself off the wall with his hands and fly out. He must have dived about ten or twelve feet, but rolled harmlessly down the slope, buffered by the deep snow. Not bad for an old guy. Emma and I waded through the drifts and pulled him to his feet. Then we all looked up at the tower. The Princess was gone! We looked to one another in puzzlement. Her head suddenly appeared again. She held up two snowboards.

“Coming down!” she yelled.

We cleared the area fast. The two boards sailed out and plummeted into the snow. Two more quickly followed. And then the last. We continued to look up. She just stepped off the parapet of the turret and tombstoned down the whole fifty or so feet, without any hesitation. None of us could believe it when she sank into a drift, got up, brushed the snow off herself, and calmly waded towards us.

“So,” she said. “Where is the Doctor? He has something of mine, I think.”

“You mean the key?” I said.

I felt Emma poke me in the back.

She smoothed my shoulder with her hand. A smile broke across her lips. “Exactly, my darling.”

“He's over here,” said Jemmons, standing over a mound.

We all trudged over to where Jemmons was now digging in the snow. I picked up a board and began digging.

“Careful,” said Jemmons. “There's his head.”

He fell on his knees and reached down into the pit and brushed the compacted snow from the pale tenant's face.

“He's still got his glasses on,” I said.

The Princess wriggled in and nudged Jemmons aside with her hip and placed her ear on the Duck's chest. “Stand back,” she commanded.

I felt Emma's hand fill mine as we stood and watched the Princess administering CPR. Jemmons watched her, too, for a moment or two and then continued to excavate the rest of the Duck's body. Emma and I fell to our knees and helped him. As I dug, my fingers struck something smooth and hard. I knew instantly what it was—I glanced across at the Princess to make sure she wasn't looking and then at Emma, who was busy clearing snow. I slipped it into my pocket and carried on digging. The Princess worked feverishly on her patient, only pausing from her alternate heart massage and mouth-to-mouth to put her ear again to the Duck's chest to listen.

“He's still breathing!” she said. “We need something to warm him up.”

“The guard's coat!” I said. “He must be around here somewhere. Come on, Em—let's find him.”

Emma and I set off to find the guard, who had fallen nearby. We both spotted a foot sticking up out of the snow and went about our macabre business—like Burke and Hare. I felt particularly squeamish about this spot of grave robbing, because I held myself directly responsible for his death. We sank our hands into the snow and dug down to his lifeless body.

“I can't look,” I said. “Is he dead?”

“Well, his cameras are off,” said Emma.

“Cameras? What cameras? My God—he's an android!”

“Come on—help me get his coat off,” said Emma, undoing the first toggle.

“I'm really glad he's not human,” I said. “That would make it murder. I wonder what you call it when you kill an android.”

“Self-defence,” said Emma.

We got one sleeve off and turned him over.

“Technically speaking, there was intent,” I said. “I mean, in a court of law, I wouldn't have a leg to stand on.”

“Neither would he, look—it's come off,” said Emma.

“Oh don't—don't pull it, Em—for God's sake show some respect.”

“Look, it's got all wires and bits inside,” she said.

“Stop poking about in there!”

“I'm only looking. Ugh! What's that?”

I peered in. “It looks like a fried egg.”

“Do androids eat fried eggs?”

I resisted the temptation to say “and chips,” for a few seconds. “And chips,” I said.

“What? I don't get it.”

“You know: chips.”

“No, it's no good,” said Emma. “I can't ketchup.”

I scooped a handful of snow in her face. “Oh, shut up!”

She grabbed up two handfuls and slapped them into my ears. And we fell about laughing and pulling each other around. It was just like the old days. When we used to have pillow-fights on Sunday morn—

“Hurry up with that coat, you pair!” yelled Jemmons.

Emma gave me one last push and bounded back with the fur. I chased after her, throwing snow at her back.

Jemmons directed me to take the Duck's legs and we lifted him out and laid him on the coat, which Emma and the Princess had spread out on the snow.

Another ground-shaking explosion erupted in the Castle and we all threw ourselves down and covered our heads with our hands.

“That was close,” I said.

“Look!” said Emma, pointing to the turret we had been standing on just a few minutes earlier. It had grown into a pillar of flames and thick black toxic smoke.

“It's time we shoved off—tempus fugit,” said Jemmons, offering me a hand up. He pulled me up a little too strongly and I barged into him. He stood me up straight and brushed me down. “Sorry, matey,” he beamed.

“You don't know your own strength,” I said. “What about the Duck?”

The Princess had put his arms in the coat and was just doing it up. The Duck looked like a big baby having his nappy changed, lying there on the snow, especially when the Princess sat him up and gave him a cuddle against her breast. She was just trying to warm him up I guess.

“How are we going to get him down?” I said.

“I can use the straps from his board to strap him to my back, Stephen.”

“Can you manage that?”

“Oh, I think so,” she said. “Do you still have the key?” she added, in a whisper.

“Yeah, it's in my—very clever, Princess,” I smiled.

“The old one's are the best,” she grinned. “Give it to me.”

“I think I'll just hang onto it till we reach the bottom,” I said.

“You do not trust me, my love?”

“You can trust me this time,” I said, patting her on the head.

I moved away from her and looked down the hillside—it seemed steeper now that we were actually on it, than it had looked from the top of the wall. I trudged over and picked up my board and Emma's.

“I don't think I can do this,” said Emma.

“Of course you can—it's easy,” I said. “All you have to do is strap your feet on the board and—”

“—I'm just going to sit on and hold onto the straps like a rein,” said Jemmons.

“Yes,” said Emma. “I think that's what I'm going to do.”

“Please yourselves,” I said.

I started strapping my feet on my board. I'd done a bit of skateboarding and package holiday skiing in my time, so I was fairly confident I could make it. Once I had mine on securely I slid down to the Princess to see if she needed a hand. But she had it sussed. Emma and Jemmons were still trying to figure out a comfortable way of sitting on theirs.

“Need any help?” I said.