Adam and the Arkonauts

by Dominic Barker

  Suddenly Adam stopped.

  ‘What is it, young ’un?’ his grandfather asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Adam. ‘I feel like I don’t know what is true and what isn’t any more. When the Doctor was here, everything seemed simple and black and white, but now it’s all confusing. I think I might need to learn more about lying.’

  A broad smile cracked across Calico Jack’s face.

  ‘Well, if that’s what you’re looking for, young ’un,’ he said, ‘you’ve found just the right guy.’

  .

  CHAPTER 21

  The narrow streets of Buenos Sueños were deserted. After two nights and a day of the Dreadful Alarm pounding down upon them, the townsfolk were using the quiet to get some sleep. Adam and Calico Jack seemed to be the only two people alive. Everywhere else was silent and shuttered.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Adam.

  ‘We need to see the Mayor,’ answered Calico Jack. ‘We’re going to need his help to sort this mess out.’

  ‘A guard wouldn’t let me see him yesterday.’

  ‘Probably because you told him the truth,’ Jack explained. ‘Your first mistake.’

  ‘CITIZENS OF BUENOS SUEÑOS . . .’

  A harsh voice suddenly boomed across the city, making them both jump.

  ‘Where’s it coming from?’ said Calico Jack, instinctively shrinking into the shadows at the side of the street.

  ‘CITIZENS OF BUENOS SUEÑOS . . .’

  The voice was horrible, low and yet loud, emotionless and yet somehow hypnotic. It echoed through every street, just as the Dreadful Alarm had.

  ‘It must be coming through the same sound system as the alarm,’ muttered Calico Jack.

  ‘CITIZENS OF BUENOS SUEÑOS, WAKE UP!’

  ‘They’ve probably only just got to sleep,’ said Adam.

  ‘COME OUT INTO THE STREET!’

  After a few moments, a man in a pair of striped pyjamas stepped out into the street. Two doors down from him a woman emerged. Then three doors up, a whole family came out. But these Buenos Sueñosians did not move in the way people normally move. Instead they shuffled silently out, their red-rimmed eyes vacant and dead. They seemed to be in a trance.

  ‘CITIZENS OF BUENOS SUEÑOS, GATHER TOGETHER IN SMALL GROUPS.’

  ‘What’s going to happen?’ asked Adam nervously.

  ‘I don’t know, young ’un,’ said Calico Jack. ‘Let’s keep out of sight until we do.’

  They shrank further back into the shadows, watching as the people of Buenos Sueños shuffled obediently into small groups.

  ‘CITIZENS OF BUENOS SUEÑOS, FORM YOUR GROUPS INTO CIRCLES.’

  It was weird to watch. Not a single citizen objected to the booming voice. They moved to form themselves into circles. Adam noticed two people collide, then carry on without even acknowledging each other’s existence. It was like they were robots.

  When the last of the Buenos Sueñosians in the street had found their place in a circle, they stood patiently waiting for new instructions, not even acknowledging with a friendly nod or wave neighbours they had known for many years.

  Something must be going to happen? But what? Adam imagined each circle being sucked suddenly into the air, or the ground opening and swallowing each circle up.

  Suddenly, as though someone had switched on a giant ancient record player, there was loud hissing and crackling. And then music blasted out across the city. Party music. It was a song.

  ‘YOU PUT YOUR LEFT LEG IN . . .’

  Each member of the circle put their left leg in.

  ‘YOUR LEFT LEG OUT . . .’

  Then pulled their left leg out.

  ‘IN, OUT, IN, OUT . . .’

  The Buenos Sueñosians’ feet went robotically back and forth.

  ‘YOU SHAKE IT ALL ABOUT.’

  And so the people of Buenos Sueños continued to obey the song’s instructions.

  ‘YOU DO THE HOKEY COKEY AND YOU TURN AROUND, THAT’S WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT.

  OH! THE HOKEY COKEY!

  OH! THE HOKEY COKEY!’

  By now the Buenos Sueñosians were holding hands and moving, like zombies, in and out of the circle in time to the music. But there was no party atmosphere. There were no whoops or cheers as there would be at a genuine fiesta, just mechanical obedience. One old woman seemed about to collapse with the effort of shaking it all about.

  ‘How long did you say the alarm has been going on for?’ Calico Jack asked Adam.

  ‘More than two weeks,’ Adam replied.

  Calico Jack nodded. ‘That would be about right.’

  ‘Right for what?’

  ‘The citizens of Buenos Sueños have had their normal sleeping patterns completely disturbed,’ explained Calico Jack. ‘And for the last thirty-six hours they have been deliberately deprived of any sleep whatsoever. In my experience, that is about the time it takes to lose your free will.’

  ‘In your experience?’ said Adam.

  ‘There you go with your questions again. Take my word that, thanks to the CIA, I know all about sleep deprivation. After two weeks you’ll do anything. This is what has happened to the Buenos Sueñosians. They’ll obey any command because they’ve lost the ability to think for themselves.’

  ‘That’s terrible,’ said Adam. ‘Why hasn’t it happened to us?’

  ‘Because we haven’t been here as long,’ Calico Jack replied, ‘so we haven’t suffered as much. This is bad news. It means Scabellax is getting closer to successfully bringing the dastardly plan he has in mind to fruition. If we’re to stop him and rescue the Doctor, then we need to get to the town hall as quickly as possible. We must hope that the Mayor is truly on our side against Scabellax, as we’re going to need all the help he can give us.’

  Adam led the way through the city streets. Everywhere they passed reluctant circles of Hokey Cokeyers. If Scabellax was behind this, then he appeared to be determined to exhaust the poor citizens even more. Left leg, right leg, left arm, right arm – all had to be in, out, in, out and shaken all about. The music was relentless, and its relentless cheeriness in contrast to the dopey obedience of the dancers made the whole absurd show all the more sinister.

  But Adam was determined not to be distracted by what was going on around him. Now experienced in navigating the city, he led Calico Jack straight to the square with the town hall and the police headquarters. Here, the largest circle in the whole of Buenos Sueños had reached the final verse of the ‘Hokey Cokey’.

  ‘YOU PUT YOUR WHOLE SELF IN . . .’

  Putting their whole selves in was proving difficult for the sleep-deprived citizens. They accidentally tripped over each other, jumped into each other and headbutted one another.

  ‘YOU PULL YOUR WHOLE SELF OUT . . .’

  Desperate to obey, the Buenos Sueñosians yanked their own limbs free from the people with whom they had just become entangled. It was painful to watch. Arms and legs were twisted and pulled in unnatural directions. There were yelps of pain. Blood ran freely down faces after clashes of heads. But hypnotised by lack of sleep, the dancers were unable to stop.

  Adam could hardly bear to look as the song urged them, ‘IN, OUT, IN, OUT . . .’ It was carnage. The music rose to a jaunty climax. In stark contrast, the citizens collapsed on the ground, wheezing and groaning.

  There was a short silence and then a voice boomed over the city. ‘CITIZENS OF BUENOS SUEÑOS, YOU MAY RETURN TO YOUR HOMES AND AWAIT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS. WHEN YOU GET THERE YOU WILL FORGET ALL ABOUT THE HOKEY COKEY. YOU WILL THINK YOU HAVE BEEN DOING THE WASHING UP.’

  This voice undoubtedly belonged to the master of the citizens of Buenos Sueños. They dragged themselves to their feet and began to shuffle towards their homes, many of them not seeming to notice that they were bloo
died and injured.

  ‘I don’t know how much more of this they can take,’ said Calico Jack grimly.

  Adam looked towards the town hall. As all those who could still walk had obediently returned to their houses, the route was now clear. They rushed across the square, up the grand steps, and were almost through the great door when . . .

  ‘Stop!’

  Slumped against a pillar, yawning, was the guard who had stopped Adam two days before. He was almost asleep but not quite. With an effort, he dragged himself upright and pointed his gun.

  ‘What’s the meaning of this?’ he demanded. ‘Trying to sneak past while I was washing up and get me into trouble, eh?’

  ‘Er . . . we were . . .’

  ‘We?’ demanded the guard. ‘What do you mean “we”? There’s only one of you.’

  Adam looked behind him. The guard was right. Calico Jack had vanished.

  ‘Well, when I say we,’ said Adam. ‘I mean . . . er . . . I don’t know exactly . . . er . . .’

  ‘All I know,’ said the guard, ‘is you tried to get past me the other day. That time I sent you on your way nicely. This time it’s not going to be quite as nice.’

  The guard advanced menacingly.

  Adam backed away.

  ‘There you are!’

  From behind the pillar stepped a man wearing a bearskin hat, with a bushy moustache and snow on his eyebrows.

  ‘Who are you?’ demanded the guard.

  The man with the bearskin hat turned to him.

  ‘Permit me to introduce myself,’ he said with a Russian accent. ‘I am Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov and this is my nephew Igor. I am afraid he is very stupid. Please take no notice of him.’ Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov clunked Adam round the head. ‘I am the official representative of Grobilov-Plodvov – a small city in Siberia. We must see the Mayor.’

  ‘You’re a long way from home,’ said the guard.

  ‘I know, comrade,’ said Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov. ‘I have been ordered by the Mayor of Grobilov-Plodvov to find a twin.’

  ‘A twin?’ The guard was puzzled. ‘Like a brother or sister?’

  ‘No, no, no.’ Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov laughed heartily, and for good measure cracked Adam merrily across the skull again.

  ‘Ow!’ said Adam.

  ‘When I say “a twin”, I mean a twin city. London said no. Paris said non. Berlin said nein. Buenos Sueños is our last hope. I must ask the Mayor if he will permit Buenos Sueños to be our twin city.’

  ‘I’ve never heard of a twin city before,’ said the guard suspiciously.

  ‘Oh, it is very common, I assure you. Every city has at least one twin.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘There are cultural exchanges,’ Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov explained. ‘We see what we have in common and celebrate it. For example, what is Buenos Sueños famous for?’

  ‘Sun, strange signposts and sleeping,’ said the guard. ‘Except we haven’t been able to do much sleeping recently. What is Grobilov-Plodvov famous for?’

  ‘Snow, pig iron and nuclear waste,’ Ivan replied cheerfully. ‘So, as you can see, we are a perfect match.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound like a perfect match to me,’ said the guard.

  ‘Of course it is,’ Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov assured him. ‘Snow and sun are both types of weather. And signposts can be made out of pig iron, so that’s almost exactly the same thing.’

  ‘And sleeping and nuclear waste?’

  Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov paused. Could it be that Grobilov-Plodvov might not be a perfect twin for Buenos Sueños, after all? Then the Russian’s face suddenly lit up.

  ‘The amount you have can seriously affect your health,’ he said triumphantly.

  Carried away with enthusiasm, Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov proceeded to launch into a long list of the cultural benefits that Buenos Sueños might receive if they would only twin with Grobilov-Plodvov.

  ‘You could see bad weather for the first time. Think how exciting this would be. And you would be able to sample our famous beetroot stew, the recipe of which has been handed down from generation to generation across the icy steppes. And you would have the opportunity to meet our great Siberian bears, and some of them might eat you.’

  Adam noticed that even though much of what Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov offered was horrible, his tone made them sound like the most desirable things in the world.

  ‘Yes,’ nodded the guard, carried away by Ivan’s enthusiasm. ‘Twinning would be good for Buenos Sueños. I only have one life. Why should I spend it all in the sun, eating good food? I should be able to be cold and eat beetroot!’

  ‘Don’t forget the man-eating bears,’ said Ivan.

  ‘How could I forget?’ said the guard. ‘Go in! Go in! The Mayor told me that he is not to be disturbed, but this opportunity is too good to pass up. Buenos Sueños and Grobilov-Plodvov should be twinned. It will be a great day for international relations.’

  ‘Come, Igor,’ said Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov to Adam. ‘We owe it to our friend here to complete the twinning process.’

  Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov marched into the town hall.

  ‘You are Calico Jack, aren’t you?’ whispered Adam as soon as they were out of earshot of the guard.

  ‘I am young ’un. I am.’

  ‘But how did you change so quickly?’

  ‘Always keep a couple of disguises on me, wherever I go,’ said Calico Jack. ‘You never know when you might need to be somebody else.’

  .

  CHAPTER 22

  Señorita Ratti knocked on the door to the Mayor’s office and, hearing a distracted ‘Si’, pushed it open to reveal the Mayor slumped over his desk with his head in his hands.

  ‘What is happening to my city?’ he groaned. Then he looked up and saw Adam and Calico Jack standing at the door beside his secretary. ‘Who is this?’ he demanded.

  ‘They come from Siberia and they would like to be your twins,’ said Senorita Ratti.

  ‘My twins!’ roared the Mayor. ‘Don’t they know I am an only child?’

  ‘No, no, comrade . . .’ protested Ivan Ivanovich Ivanivov.

  Adam decided that the whole twin thing had gone far enough. It had been necessary only to get them into the Mayor’s office. Now they had achieved that, they could drop the pretence.

  ‘Don’t you remember me?’ he asked the Mayor.

  The Mayor looked closely at Adam without any sign of recognising him.

  ‘I was with the Doctor,’ Adam went on.

  ‘Ah,’ said the Mayor, remembering. ‘How could I forget? But I don’t understand, chico. You were not a Russian when I last saw you.’

  ‘No,’ said Adam. ‘Neither of us are Russians.’

  Calico Jack removed his bearskin hat and rubbed the fake snow from his eyebrows to show this was true.

  ‘But we had to get past the guard,’ explained Adam, ‘because I have to tell you about the terrible things that have happened to the Doctor and Sniffage.’

  ‘Sniffage?’

  ‘The dog.’

  Again the Mayor remembered.

  ‘The spaniel . . .’

  ‘Yes,’ said Adam. ‘They are both in trouble and –’

  The Mayor held up his hand.

  ‘Why should I help them after they refused to help me?’ he said. ‘I have my own problems. First, I have had to do the washing-up this morning, and second, Felipez has revealed he has an expert who can stop the alarm.’

  ‘You’re wrong about the Doctor and Sniffage,’ cried Adam passionately, forgetting that mayors are not normally people you shout at. ‘They were both trying their best to help you and stop the Dreadful Alarm.’

  ‘How was your dog helping?’ said the Mayor.

  ‘Er . . . he was sni
ffing dead things,’ Adam ventured, realising that in his enthusiasm to defend Sniffage, he had strayed a little way from the truth.

  ‘Dead things?’ repeated the Mayor. ‘How would sniffing dead things help?’

  ‘It doesn’t sound like it would help,’ Adam admitted. ‘But that’s because everything on the surface seems confusing. But underneath there’s a very simple solution which makes everything make sense. It’s like a double helix.’

  ‘What’s a double helix?’ demanded the Mayor.

  ‘It’s the building block of life, the structure of DNA. All we needed to do was figure out what it was and then we’d find out what was causing the Dreadful Alarm and where my mother was and everything would make sense. Do you see?’

  Adam looked at the Mayor, Calico Jack and Señorita Ratti. Each of them looked blankly back. Why, wondered Adam, did it make so much more sense when the Doctor said it?

  ‘But it doesn’t matter if you don’t understand,’ he said desperately. ‘All that’s important is that the Doctor and Sniffage were trying to help you even if you didn’t know it. And now they’re in trouble and you’re going to have to help me rescue them or we won’t stand a chance of stopping the alarm.’

  The Mayor opened his mouth to respond.

  PHEEP! PHEEP! PHEEP!

  Chief of Police Grivas and ten officers from the Buenos Sueños Police Force charged into the room, brandishing pistols and whistles.

  The Mayor leapt to his feet furiously.

  ‘What is the meaning of this?’

  Chief Grivas, who was sporting a deluxe model of earmuffs with superior padding for all-round protection and extra comfort, motioned to his men to stop blowing their whistles. Then he removed his earmuffs.

  ‘We wanted to attract your attention,’ he announced.

  ‘Ten police officers storming into my office is normally enough to attract my attention,’ the Mayor informed him drily.

  Chief Grivas casually reached for a cigar from his breast pocket.

  ‘This is a non-smoking office,’ the Mayor informed him.

  Grivas insolently stuck the cigar in his mouth, though he didn’t light it.