Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London (32 page)

“Master Bram,” shouted Alf. “Where is he? Whatever has happened to the Emperor?”

“He's gone,” said Johnny quietly. He looked at the Moon on the viewscreen. The craters were unfamiliar. They must be on the far side from the Earth. “Sol,” he said.

“Yes, Johnny,” replied the ship.

“Perform a long-range scan. Find out when it is.”

“Computing …” said Sol. “Sensors indicate it is Galactic Standard Time minus twenty-three days exactly.”

“Twenty-three days?” squeaked Gronack. “Civilization at last.”

Johnny smiled as he watched the color returning to the Chancellor's robes.

“We're saved,” squealed the Chancellor. “By the time we signal Melania and they send my private shuttle, I'll just have time to say goodbye to myself and warn me from going on this terrible journey.”

Johnny had never seen Gronack so excited. The phasmeer's antennae danced above its head, wrapping around each other. “Well did you?” Johnny asked, as he walked across to the captain's chair. He sat down, swiveling to face the Chancellor.

“Did I what?”

“Did you warn yourself?” said Johnny.

“Of course not,” said Alf, his hands still busy shutting down the weapons control station.

“Why not?” asked Johnny and the Chancellor together.

“It simply is not allowed,” Alf replied, looking up. “Imagine the fright you could give yourself if you popped up in front of you.”

“So?” Clara asked.

“So anything might happen,” Alf replied. “So you may very well kill yourself and that is the worst paradox of all. You two really paid no attention at all to my temporal mechanics lessons did you? I wonder why I bothered. And as for you, Sir,” he said, turning to Chancellor Gronack, “I am surprised. I thought you knew better.”

“Of course I had no intention of contacting myself,” said the
Chancellor, whose antennae disentangled while its robes started glowing a subtle pink. “Although if I did, I would naturally have the self-control not to do anything rash.”

“Naturally,” said Johnny. “It doesn't matter for us, anyway. We … our other selves must have left Earth by now.”

“I don't know, Johnny,” said Clara. “I'll go and get my diary—there's loads of stuff I've got to write anyway.” Clara hurried over to the lifts and off the bridge.

“I suppose it's too much to ask that there'll be a decent ship near this barbarian planet? I can't wait to get back into civilized surroundings,” said Gronack.

“Sol,” said Johnny, who was probably even more keen than the phasmeer to see it leave the Spirit of London.

“Yes, Johnny,” replied the ship.

“Can you scan the local area for ships? Maybe the Chancellor can have its wish?”

“As well as more space junk than in a Pleideian scrap-yard, the only vessels in this sector are three krun ships orbiting the planet.”

“Krun? Three?” said Johnny.

“That is correct,” said Sol.

“Have they seen us?” Johnny asked, on the edge of his seat ready to spring into action.

“I do not believe so,” Sol replied. “It is unlikely they are equipped with anything so advanced as my neutrino scanning technology. We are hidden from them by your planet's moon.”

“Where are they?” Johnny asked, relaxing back into his chair.

“Displaying …” said Sol, and the cratered white landscape on the screens in front of them dissolved into the familiar blue and white swirls of Earth. Johnny stood up and walked right up to the main screen to try and spot what he was meant to be looking at. As he focused on the very center of the screen, above the planet, he could just see the blurred outline of one large
ship, an elongated black cube with spikes protruding randomly in all directions. He stared even harder, and noticed there were two much smaller black spheres nearby, and a disc-shaped object in the center of the other three craft.

“Didn't you say three ships?” Johnny asked. “I think I can see four, but it's not very clear.”

“The objects are shielded—on any other ship you would see nothing at all,” Sol replied. “There are three vessels and one permanent platform. The platform anchors a transportation system to and from the planet.”

“Of course—the space elevator,” said Johnny.

“Is it really?” asked Alf. “I had no idea the Earth was so advanced.”

“It's not,” Johnny replied. “I think the krun built it—it's how they took me and Clara.”

“You went inside it?” asked Alf. “That must have been exciting. What a way to leave the planet.”

“At the time we couldn't really appreciate it.”

“Johnny,” Sol cut in.

“What is it, Sol?” Johnny replied.

“My distress beacon is exhibiting temporal oscillations.”

“What does that mean?” asked Johnny. Alf rolled his eyes.

Sol replied, “Our return to the near present has caused an instability. The beacon appears to be moving forward and backward in time.”

“I guess that's bad,” said Johnny. More and more he wished he
had
paid attention to what Alf had tried to teach them at the university.

“For now I have isolated it within a stasis field. However, I suggest jettisoning the device to prevent it destabilizing other areas of the ship.”

“Won't the krun detect it?” said Johnny.

“It is possible,” Sol replied. “However, once removed from
stasis the beacon will intersect with our time only rarely, meaning a positive identification is unlikely.”

Johnny walked over to the captain's chair and sat down, thinking.

“Well?” Gronack asked. “It's not exactly a hard decision—I remember how bad it was when I disappeared.”

“The Chancellor does have a point,” said Alf. “It would be best to get rid of it.”

Johnny didn't think that Gronack had a point at all. When it happened the phasmeer didn't even seem to have noticed its own disappearance, and the rest of the crew had been given a well-deserved break from its whining. “How does the beacon work, Sol?” he asked.

“It's not important how it works,” squeaked Gronack.

“I fly under the banner of Emperor Bram Khari,” Sol continued, ignoring the Chancellor. “So, the beacon is programmed to transmit the Imperial distress signal using all known methods of communication.”

“Including radio waves?” asked Johnny.

“Including radio waves,” Sol comfirmed.

“Can you fire it at the largest krun ship?” Johnny asked. He'd just had a very interesting idea. “Best if it sticks.”

“The beacon will automatically adhere to any solid surface it encounters,” Sol replied.

“Perfect,” said Johnny. “Do it.”

“No—don't do it,” said the Chancellor.

“The beacon has been jettisoned on a trajectory for the largest krun vessel,” said Sol.

“Master Johnny—are you sure that was wise?” Alf asked in a way that suggested Johnny was being rather foolhardy.

“Quite sure,” Johnny replied.

Clara stepped from the lift shaft and out into the bridge, carrying a little pocket book. “It must be around when we left,”
she said, “but I'm not sure. I didn't start writing it till we got to Melania.”

Johnny nodded. “Sol,” he said. “Can you pick up TV broadcasts from the planet?”

“I cannot receive transmissions from this position, Johnny. We are in radio shadow behind your moon.”

“Can you move us out so you can pick them up? Concentrate on the landmass at the foot of the space elevator … and try to keep us out of sight of the krun.”

“Try?” squeaked Gronack, almost apoplectic. “I thought our shields were down. Why do we have to try? Why do we have to move at all?”

“Because we have to find out what day it is,” said Johnny. He already had his suspicions, but needed to be sure.

“I am receiving multiple signals,” said Sol. “Displaying …” and the bridge was transformed into a 360 degree TV screen with hundreds of different programs being shown all around the walls.

Clara looked at Johnny. “News?” she asked.

“Sport,” Johnny replied, getting back to his feet. He turned round slowly until he homed in on a few broadcasts together showing football clips. One display switched to two men talking with a football pitch behind them. Johnny walked over to the screen, touched it and said, “This one, Sol. Can you play sound too?”

“… it's come to this. The biggest match of the season—the Premier League decider. Here we are at Ashburton Grove …”

“That's enough,” said Johnny and the TV screens were instantly replaced by the swirling clouds of Earth. “Take us back behind the Moon. I know when it is.”

“Just from that, Master Johnny? I am most impressed,” said Alf.

“Don't be,” said Clara. “It's just boys and football—they're all like it. What day is it, then?”

“It's Sunday,” Johnny replied. “The day I went down to Yarnton Hill. It's the day before I met you.”

“Are you certain, Johnny?” Alf asked.

“It all makes perfect sense,” said Johnny.

“I'm glad it does to someone,” said the Chancellor. “I wish you'd tell the rest of us what's going on.”

“I picked up a signal from space,” said Johnny. “A partial signal over a few days, always heading between the Moon and the space elevator. I picked up
our
signal—our distress beacon. The krun don't broadcast radio waves.”

“And that's why the Diaquant sent us here,” said Clara. “So we can stop them taking us.”

“No—we have to let ourselves go,” said Johnny. “We can't change the past. Valdour will home in on our Imperial distress beacon on the krun ship—that's why he rescued us—but we
can
save Louise and Bentley. And then we can get Mum and Dad, just like the Diaquant asked. We've got to land.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” asked the Chancellor. “Won't an unshielded spacecraft look a little incongruous on this … planet?”

“No—it's like a building,” said Johnny. “It's this dead famous skyscraper in London.”

“Forgive me if I'm wrong,” squeaked the Chancellor happily. “But isn't that building already there?”

“Well, yeah,” said Johnny.

“And won't you Terrans notice if there are two of them? Or are you
all
especially stupid?”

“I hadn't thought of that,” said Johnny.

“Evidently,” replied the Chancellor.

It was Clara's plan. Johnny thought there were a million reasons why it wouldn't work, but he couldn't think of a better
one. After spending a long time in total silence with the plican she'd pronounced herself satisfied and now they were in the bay with the mini transports. For everything to work, Clara had to get to London so Alf was going to pilot her down in one of the black cab shuttle crafts.

“You're sure the shields will fool the krun?” Johnny asked Alf, who was sitting in the driver's seat next to Clara.

“Absolutely,” replied Alf. “Just watch what happens when I do this.” The android blinked very deliberately and the whole taxi shimmered and disappeared, leaving Johnny looking through empty space to the far side of the shuttle bay. If he didn't look at it directly, he wondered if he could just about spot the cab's outline out of the corner of his eye, but he couldn't be sure. The voice of an invisible Alf very close to him said, “And how about this?” The taxi reappeared but now it looked empty. “Or this?” and when Johnny looked through the window, instead of Alf and Clara sitting side by side there was a cabbie driving a regular taxi in the front seat, with a passenger in the back.

“Cool,” said Johnny. “It's brilliant. Thanks Sol,” he said into the air above him.

“You're welcome, Johnny,” came the reply. “I thought the different camouflage modes may prove useful.”

Alf and Clara reappeared in the front seat, both laughing. “It's brilliant—it needs a name,” Clara said.

“You are sitting in Shuttle Craft One,” said the Chancellor. “It is a machine.”

“Don't be silly,” said Clara. “It's a London taxi. We're going to London. We're on the Spirit of London. We need a London name.”

“Like what?” Johnny asked.

“I know,” said Clara. “Let's call all the shuttles after Underground lines.”

“Central and District?” Johnny asked.

“Jubilee and Bakerloo,” said Clara firmly. “We're in Jubilee and the bus can be Victoria.”

“That's a girl's name,” said Johnny.

“All right—how about Piccadilly?”

“Piccadilly's cool,” said Johnny.

“That's settled then. We'd better go,” said Clara. “Alf will tell you when we're in position. Remember you've got to wait for me to go first—OK?”