‘You do understand what’s involved, don’t you, BB005?’ said Professor Perdu.
‘Yes, Prof. I’m going into a MetaBook. I have been into one before. MB3, the Zeppelin Sky Wars. Remember?’
Napoleon was standing at the entrance to his change cubicle, keen to get into the action. He hadn’t been on a mission for more than two weeks.
‘Of course I remember,’ said the professor. ‘But MB3 was a baby compared to MetaBook 7.’
‘I know all about the dangers in MetaBooks,’ Napoleon continued. ‘The War Storms and Time Twisters, the NoWhen Waves and Time Tsunamis, the — ’
‘You can never know all the dangers in a MetaBook,’ said the professor. ‘They’re uncharted territory. Anything can — ’
‘I know: Anything can happen in a MetaBook.’
‘Exactly – especially in a BIG MetaBook – and MB7 is about as big as they come.’
‘Can I get changed for the mission now?’
‘I do wonder about you sometimes, BB005.’ Professor Perdu shook her head. ‘You don’t even know where you’re going or what your mission is.’ She pressed a button and the change cubicle opened.
‘But Skin will tell me.’ Napoleon stepped into the cubicle and the hatch slid shut behind him. He undressed quickly and pulled on his Simulation Skin. ‘Morning Skin,’ he said as his body armour and data-collecting outfit hummed alive. ‘What’s on the menu today?’
‘Welcome, BB005. We have a particularly challenging mission on this occasion.’
‘I know – that’s all I keep hearing about.’
Napoleon rubbed his hands together and opened them like a book. An LCD screen appeared in his palms with details of the mission.
‘MetaBook 7 is huge, BB005,’ said Skin. ‘The Battle of the Atlantic was the longest battle of the Second World War. It lasted almost six years. Nearly 800 German U-boats were sunk, more than 2700 British and Allied ships went to the bottom of the sea, and almost 60,000 lives were lost.’
‘Wow. You were right, Prof. This is big.’
‘Exactly,’ the professor replied. ‘Glad to see you’re realising the magnitude of this mission at last.’
Skin continued. ‘The mission is further complicated by the fact that some of it may need to be conducted from the air, as well as IN and even UNDER the water.’
‘Underwater? So do I need scuba gear?’
‘No,’ said the professor. ‘Skin has been modified and fitted with the latest Submersuit Software that lets you breathe when submerged.’
‘Like a fish?’
‘The analogy is appropriate, BB005,’ said Skin. ‘The modifications are gill-based.’
Napoleon felt several ridges and vents on each side of his SimulSkin’s neck, like gills.
‘So what’s my disguise for the mission?’ He looked around the change cubicle for something like a sailor’s suit. But all he could find was a long white shirt. ‘Not this, I hope.’
‘That’s exactly what you’ll be wearing,’ the professor said. ‘Please get dressed.’
Napoleon lifted down the garment and pulled it over his head. It was so light he couldn’t even feel it against his body. And it was tissue thin. ‘I can’t wear this,’ he said, staring in the mirror. ‘You can see straight through it.’
‘Not for long,’ Professor Perdu replied with a chuckle, and something quite amazing happened.
The shirt shimmered and in the next instant Napoleon was dressed as a Roman soldier. A moment later he was wearing a Samurai outfit. Next he was dressed as a court jester, then an Incan prince, followed in quick succession by a captain in the Grenadier Guards, an Egyptian pharaoh and a knight in shining armour.
‘What?’ Napoleon stammered.
‘It’s my latest invention,’ the professor declared. ‘The Chameli-Shirt, named after the chameleon, the lizard that changes its skin to match its environment.’
‘How does it work?’ said Napoleon.
‘It’s based on the CamoCape. It transmits holograms from a costume databank held by Skin. Effectively, you can be dressed as anyone from any time in history.’
‘Awesome. I love it,’ Napoleon said as the Chameli-Shirt changed again, this time dressing him as a British sailor from World War Two. He stepped out from the change cubicle. ‘Am I going to be on a ship?’
‘Possibly,’ said Skin. ‘That will depend upon the professor’s program.’
‘I have planned this mission in detail,’ said Professor Perdu as she directed Napoleon into the Tome Tunnel elevator. ‘So listen carefully.’
The professor punched a code into the wall screen, and the lift dropped rapidly.
‘There are hundreds of Battle Bubbles in this Metabook,’ she continued. ‘Some are impossible to enter; some too dangerous. In any case you will only have time to enter a few on this mission. So I have scanned and charted them, making a Battle Bubble Map. If all goes according to plan I hope to slot you in and out of a select number of bubbles. But as you know —’
‘Yes, Prof: Anything can happen in a MetaBook.’
The elevator came to a stop, its doors opened, and they stepped into the launch chamber. Napoleon felt a rush of excitement as soon as he saw the Tome Tunnel, with its shining silver rails feeding into 100 metres of ceramic tube, ultra-frozen as a super conductor.
‘The tunnel should be at launch temperature by now,’ said Professor Perdu.
‘Affirmative,’ Skin replied. ‘Minus 400 degrees Celsius and stabilising. Atom acceleration exceeds Factor 9. MetaBook 7 locked in position, and TimePod 2.2 is ready to fire.’
‘TimePod 2.2?’ said Napoleon, inspecting the bullet-shaped cylinder waiting on the rails like a glass rocket. ‘A new version?’
‘That’s right, BB005,’ said the professor. ‘We’ve added more nano-carbon crystals to make the capsule stronger. Which it needs to be; the forces in this MetaBook are meganomical. Fine cracks appeared in the earlier model during tests, so we’ve strengthened it. You’ll be safe in TP2.2.’
Napoleon was relieved to hear that. He knew that the speed needed to enter a MetaBook, and the heat generated, could cook him in a millisecond.
‘You will also have more control with this model.’ The professor pointed out two grips at the front of the TimePod, like motorbike handlebars. ‘Left, right, up, down, accelerate and brake. And if you let go of the controls for any reason, the TimePod will immediately switch to auto-drive.’
‘Wicked. My own TimePod hot rod.’
‘There are some other features, but we don’t have time to discuss those now. It’s almost take-off time. Skin will explain later if need be.’
The professor passed her hand over the TimePod and it split into two neat halves along its length.
‘Oh, one more thing,’ she added. ‘The MetaBook Exit Strategy has been improved. We now have a more accurate positioning device that allows me to place an Exit Beam within a metre of you.’
Napoleon was pleased to hear that. He’d had so much trouble getting out of MetaBook 3, and he didn’t want to go through that again.
‘Very well, then.’ Professor Perdu smiled and pointed to the TimePod. ‘It’s all yours, BB005.’
Napoleon grinned and climbed into the capsule. He lay down, his head towards the pointy end, and stretched out his arms in dive position. His hands immediately latched onto the two control grips, and the TimePod closed.
‘TP2.2 sealed and secure,’ said Skin, and the capsule began to move along the rails. ‘Entering the breech now.’
Suddenly it all came back to Napoleon – how it felt to be a human bullet inside the TimePod, loaded into an enormous gun and about to be fired into eternity. As the capsule lined up with the Tome Tunnel, Skin reeled off a string of coordinates.
‘63W by 41A
, 17M on a variance of 12. Cross reference data verified and factored in.’
‘Hang on, Skin,’ Napoleon interrupted. ‘I want to do the next bit.’ With his adrenalin pumping, Napoleon took a deep breath, and shouted: ‘Prepare to fire in 5 . . . ’
It really was like staring down the barrel of a gun. The MetaBook stood out bright and clear at the far end of the Tome Tunnel, a large number 7 flashing on and off like a target.
‘4...
3...’
The TimePod gave a little shudder as the turbo started winding up. Napoleon steadied his hands on the control grips.
‘2...
1...
Fire!’
Napoleon shot forwards so fast he was sure his head would end up at his feet, his eyes staring out of his toes.
He tried to shout but the sound didn’t even get past his lips. He heard Skin clock their velocity at Hyperspeed 15, too fast to think about. The number Seven flashed in front of him for the tiniest part of a second. And then everything went white, the brightest of whites. ‘We’re in,’ he yelled.
‘Affirmative,’ Skin replied. ‘MetaBook 7 has been successfully entered.’
The whiteness. The eerie whiteness. Eerie because there was nothing else. No capsule. Not even any Napoleon Augustus Smythe. He had become non-matter, invisible to the human eye. That’s what happens at Hyperspeed 15, nothing is solid any more – just light, pure white light.
‘It’s so freaky,’ Napoleon said. ‘I know I’m here. I can hear me, but I can’t see me or even feel me.’
‘You will re-materialise soon, BB005.’
Skin was right. Napoleon felt himself rapidly decelerate, and in the next moment his body slowly reappeared, along with the TimePod. At the same time the whiteness turned into a blue liquid.
‘We have passed into the Time Ether,’ Skin reported.
‘Isn’t this where the TimePod starts cracking up?’
‘Not this time, BB005. TP2.2 is much tougher. It will take us into the first Battle Bubble, at least.’
Napoleon felt warm and cosy in the TimePod. He stared out as it slid silently through the Ether, Battle Bubbles of different sizes floating all around him like jellyfish. They had a strange beauty, but most couldn’t be entered; their energy was too random and explosive. He was after the really big ones – the MegaBubbles.
‘Any idea where we’re going?’ he asked, his voice echoing in the TimePod.
‘Yes I do, as a matter of fact.’ It was Professor Perdu.
As she spoke a data screen appeared on the TimePod in front of Napoleon’s eyes. It was filled with moving circles of different size. The bigger ones were labelled with letters and numbers.
‘What you’re looking at, BB, is the Battle Bubble Map. I’ve plotted the main battles chronologically, based on when they happened in the vast Atlantic Ocean.’
The screen scrolled across the many different-sized circles until one of them began flashing. Then the screen stopped and zoomed in for closer inspection. A date and other details appeared on the screen.
‘Coordinates confirmed,’ Skin said. ‘Target destination locked in.’
At once the TimePod changed direction and sped up. Soon a big Battle Bubble came into view.
‘It’s massive,’ shouted Napoleon as they raced towards it. ‘I’ve got the Laser Blade ready.’
‘That won’t be necessary,’ said the professor. ‘TP2.2 has its own Laser Blade.’
The cone of the TimePod glowed, and when they were almost upon the Battle Bubble a thin blue beam shot out, piercing it. With only a slight jolt they left the Time Ether behind.
‘Perfect entry,’ said Skin. ‘But please be aware, BB005, that the liquid in which we are now immersed is real water.’
They were under the Atlantic Ocean, many fathoms down. The water was almost black, and it took Napoleon’s eyes a while to adjust. They were heading towards the surface when suddenly a large grey vessel loomed out at them.
‘It is a German U-boat,’ Skin said.
Napoleon pulled on the right control. The TimePod swerved sharply, narrowly avoiding the vessel. Then he corrected the capsule’s course so that it swung around until it was cruising right next to the U-boat, almost touching it.
‘Excellent image,’ said Skin. ‘Vessel identified: U-29, commanded by Otto Schuhart, a highly successful U-boat commander. He is on a search and destroy mission.’
The vessel looked cruel and menacing. Napoleon shuddered. He was pleased when Skin finished data collection and re-activated Surface Mode on the TimePod. They streaked upwards, leaving the U-boat lurking in the deep like an iron shark.
It was a moonless night, but as soon as they broke the surface Napoleon saw an enormous aircraft carrier only a few hundred metres away. A couple of escort ships sailed with her.
Skin’s nano-computers whirred. ‘Vessel identified. HMS Courageous. More than 22,000 tons of warship.’
‘And am I supposed to be on it?’ said Napoleon.
‘I had planned to place you there, BB,’ said Professor Perdu. ‘But we’re a bit late. I think it’d be unwise to board her now.’
‘But I’ve never been on an aircraft carrier before.’
‘And you don’t want to be on this one, let me assure you.’
At that very moment the U-boat surfaced.
Napoleon gawked. ‘I see what you mean.’
He looked back and forth between U-29 and HMS Courageous. The U-boat was tiny compared to the aircraft carrier, and yet it was about to blow the mighty warship out of the water with its torpedoes. How could something so small destroy something so huge?
But then Napoleon looked again, and decided that something was not quite right.
‘Can I make a small observation,’ he said.
‘Of course,’ Professor Perdu replied. ‘Go ahead.’
‘I don’t think U-29 is pointing at HMS Courageous.’ He gulped. ‘I think it’s pointing at . . .
ME!!!’
The words had barely left Napoleon’s lips when Skin let out a loud warning beep.
Torpedo Attack.
Torpedo Attack.
Urgent evasive
action required.
Napoleon stared in horror as two torpedoes streaked through the water towards him. He ripped the TimePod into reverse, spun it round and pulled on full forward acceleration. The TP2.2 took off like a jet boat.
But it wasn’t enough. The first torpedo was so close that it clipped the tail of the TimePod. There was a mighty explosion that sent the capsule skimming across the water.
‘Level 3 damage,’ Skin reported. ‘Serious negative impact to rear section of TimePod.’
Part of the TimePod’s tail had been completely blown away. Napoleon’s feet were dangling in the water. They might have been blown off too, he thought to himself.
Water was gushing in at the tail. More importantly, the TimePod had lost power. Napoleon pulled on full throttle, but nothing happened. And the other torpedo was gaining rapidly.
‘Immediate acceleration needed,’ said Skin. ‘Otherwise further negative impacts are predicted.’
‘There is no acceleration,’ Napoleon shouted. ‘We need . . . ’
He tried to think what it was they needed to get away from the torpedo. And then it suddenly struck him. Of course, his feet. They were dangling out the back of the TimePod.
‘Boot Boosters, Skin,’ he hollered. ‘And give us all you’ve got.’
Skin reacted immediately. ‘Activating Boot Boosters with TurboThrust times 10.’
That was just what was needed. With the torpedo nibbling at Napoleon’s toes he took off. The TimePod screamed across the water, leaving the torpedo far behind.
‘Good one, Skin,’ Napoleon yelled when they were safely out of range. ‘Let’s slow down now.’
‘Directive not possible,’ Skin replied.
‘Why not? What’s wrong?’
‘The impact of the first torpedo has locked the Boot Boosters in Accelerated Turbo Mode. We
have already hit TurboThrust times 10 and are heading for 12 as we speak.’
‘OH NO,’ Napoleon shouted. The TimePod was now rocketing across the ocean, barely touching the surface. ‘And this thing’s getting hard to control.’
‘ . . . 14 . . . soon it will be impossible to control . . . 16 . . . ’ said Skin.
‘And my feet are burning hot.’
‘That is understandable. Your boots are emitting smoke . . . 18 . . . ’
‘ARRRHHH, Skin.’
‘Recommend nose diving the TimePod into the ocean to cause rapid deceleration and possible dousing of footware.’
‘I’ll try.’ Napoleon pushed forwards, and the front of TP2.2 dipped a little. ‘It’s working.’
But just then a wave rose up in front of the capsule. The TimePod hit it and shot straight up into the air like a rocket. At the same time the TurboThrust hit 20. In a matter of seconds Napoleon was far above the Atlantic Ocean, going faster and climbing higher.
‘I won’t have any feet left soon,’ he screamed. ‘STOP!’
‘It may do so very soon,’ said Skin. ‘TP2.2 is breaking up.’
Skin was right. Cracks were appearing all over the TimePod, and already pieces were crumbling off.
‘You said I’d be safe in this new TimePod, Prof. You said —’
That’s all Napoleon managed to say. There was a sudden jolt, the TimePod shattered into a thousand pieces, the Boot Boosters gave a final mighty surge, and he found himself tumbling over and over in that strange blue liquid he knew only too well.
‘We’re back in the Time Ether again, Skin,’ Napoleon shouted, slowing his Boot Boosters and gaining control of his movement.
‘Affirmative. We exited that Battle Bubble at TurboThrust times 25.’
‘But that’s faster than a speeding bullet.’
‘Exactly, BB005.’ Professor Perdu’s voice came on the Battle Watch. ‘You are lucky to be alive.’
‘I know, and my feet were nearly burnt to cinders.’ Napoleon grinned. ‘But it was fun. Mega fun.’
‘You are not there for fun, BB005. In fact, I’m not sure you should be there at all. This mission is proving far more difficult to control than I expected. I think we should abandon it.’
Underwater War Page 1