Martin King and the Prison of Ice (Martin King Series)

by James McGovern

  Martin peered at the text:

  The Battle of Methven was fought on the

  19th June 1306, and is widely considered to…

  Martin shrugged. “So what? The writer got the date wrong.”

  Dr Ackerman smiled. “Ah, but I happen to have read that exact same page three months ago. When I read it then, the date was printed correctly.”

  Martin frowned. “Then I don’t understand.”

  “It isn’t just this book,” Dr Ackerman went on. “I’ve checked every source at my disposal. All existing records of the Battle of Methven have changed to the new date. Ask any historian, and they will now tell you that the date of the battle was the 19th June 1306.”

  “So what’s going on?” said Darcy.

  “History has changed. You see, Axis Lords perceive time in a different way to humans, so the change has not altered my memory. But, for all intents and purposes, the battle now did take place on the 19th June. The actual date for the battle has been altered.” He smiled. “And I know who is responsible.”

  Darcy sipped her tea. “Then who was it?”

  “You are probably already aware that quite a few Axis Lords—including myself—are currently living on Earth. Well, I have an old acquaintance called Alexander Howell, who works as a vicar in a nearby village. Alexander Howell has a time machine. He has evidently travelled back in time to alter the date of the battle. Perhaps he dropped a little poison into Aymer de Valence’s cup—enough to make him ill for a few days…” He paused. “The important thing is that Alexander Howell changed a detail that he knew I would notice.”

  “Why?” said Martin.

  Ackerman sighed. “It’s a threat. Howell knows my love of British history. The Battle of Methven was a relatively minor battle, but all Howell has to do is change a slightly bigger event—at a slightly more pivotal moment—and the entire tapestry of history could be unravelled.”

  “Why would he want to threaten you?” said Martin.

  “Because I have been protecting you.” Dr Ackerman sighed again. “Your old friend, Valdragor Slater—you know him as Michael, I believe—asked me to do so.”

  Mr Slater had been a teacher at Martin’s school; he was also an alien, and he had helped them to save the world.

  “After your defeat of Moonstone,” Dr Ackerman went on, “Slater knew that you would become wanted—it was even possible that our own people would come after you. So I shielded you. Up until now you have all been untraceable to members of my race.”

  “But this Alexander Howell wants to find us?” said Darcy. “And he’s threatening you so you remove the protection and let him?”

  “Precisely,” said Dr Ackerman.

  Martin paused to think about what he had told them.

  “How do you know he wants us?” said Martin. “I mean, how do you know that Alexander Howell isn’t threatening you for some other reason?”

  Dr Ackerman put on a pair of plastic gloves and removed a delicate yellow document from a box.

  “This is one of the original copies of The Brus, a narrative poem published in 1375 that chronicled the affairs of Robert the Bruce and the Scottish Wars of Independence. It seems Howell has used his time machine to meddle with the text. Read the last line.”

  Dr Ackerman pointed at the last line of the text; Martin and Darcy peered at it.

  The mighty Angel do command

  Bring Martin King into his hand.

  “Oh,” said Martin. “Yep, that seems pretty conclusive.”

  “So what do you want us to do?” said Darcy.

  “I want you to visit Alexander Howell—the so-called “mighty angel”—and find out what he wants.”

  Martin looked at Darcy. They were both thinking exactly the same thing. It was about time for something exciting to happen. Martin grinned.

  “We’ll go,” he said.

  “Excellent,” said Dr Ackerman. “I don’t think you will be in any danger. Howell is a strange man, but I don’t think he means you any harm. I expect that he needs your help for something.” He paused. “Oh, before you go, I could do with a hand digging something up.”

  *

  Dr Ackerman pointed to the centre of the grass in Lincoln Quad.

  “It’s buried under there. I thought it would be a safe place for it, but it has caused all of those four-leaf clovers to grow and so it’s ended up being rather conspicuous. The gardener dug up the turf and re-laid it, but the clovers just grew back.” He smiled slightly. “Dr Jackson thinks that someone has been planting genetically-modified seeds as a joke.”

  The historian gestured to two spades leaning against the wall.

  “I’ll make a bargain with you. If you dig it up, you can keep it. It’s not too deep, don’t worry.”

  “But what’s under there?” said Darcy.

  “Wait and see. You won’t be disappointed, trust me.”

  Martin and Darcy took the spades and started to dig. The soil was soft and dry, and they soon began to make progress.

  “What the devil is going on? Why are you digging up the lawn?”

  A grey-haired man in a suit was staring at Martin and Darcy with a horrified expression.

  “Oh, good morning,” said Dr Ackerman. “These people are contractors—the porter called them in to do something about all the four-leaf clovers.”

  “But… contractors… children?” the man spluttered.

  “That’s right,” said Dr Ackerman, trying not to smile. “If you have a problem, I suggest you talk to one of the porters. I’m just standing here.”

  “Well, well, I think I will!”

  The man marched off, looking shocked.

  “Don’t worry,” said Dr Ackerman, “that was just the Physics professor. I imagine he’ll forget all about it before he reaches the porters.”

  Eventually, Martin’s spade hit something hard. He reached into the soil and pulled out a large wooden box. Martin opened the crate. Inside, there was a small brass cube covered with strange spiral patterns.

  “That,” said Dr Ackerman, “is a Coincidence Machine. It is an Axis Lord invention designed to manipulate chance to increase positive outcomes.”

  “And what does that mean?” said Darcy.

  “Essentially, it gives you good luck. But Coincidence Machines are very erratic; they cannot really be controlled. Probability is a complex thing. They tend to activate at random intervals and can influence events in unforeseen ways. They were banned on Hope eventually, but not before I had a great deal of fun with it!”

  “So we can keep it?” said Martin.

  “Certainly.” The historian glanced at Darcy. “Although I don’t think you really need it for the same reason I did.”

  He shook their hands again.

  “I must leave you now—I’m supposed to be lecturing in a few minutes. But thank you for agreeing to see Howell. Here’s my card, and here’s Howell’s address—don’t hesitate to contact me if you’re ever in trouble.”

  Martin and Darcy said goodbye and left Xavier College—Darcy was holding on to the Coincidence Machine. As they walked down the street, the machine suddenly made a clicking sound. Darcy looked down and noticed something.

  “Look,” she said. “Look what I found!”

  It was a £20 note. Darcy put it in her pocket.

  “That’s amazing,’ she said. ‘I love the machine already. Although I suppose it’s not like I need any more money.”

  At that moment, the machine clicked again. Martin noticed something in the sky. It was some kind of burning object falling to Earth. Suddenly, it landed, leaving a small crater in the pavement. Darcy peered into the smoking hole, frowning.

  “It’s a watch,” muttered Darcy.

  Martin reached into the crater and picked up the watch. Then he dropped it again with a cry of pain.

  “It’s hot!” he said. “It’s burning hot.”

  As soon as the watch had cooled, Martin picked it up and held it next to the watch on his wrist. They were identical—gre
y strap and silver face with a digital timestamp.

  “That’s weird,” said Darcy. “It’s exactly the same as the one I bought you.”

  For Martin’s birthday, Darcy had bought him a so-called indestructible watch from a website—it was a little joke of hers because he had a habit of accidentally breaking wristwatches.

  “Yeah, it is,” said Martin. “Huh, I guess these things really are indestructible… that’s weird.” He dropped the second watch into his pocket, and looked up at the clear sky. “I wonder where it could have fallen from…”

  CHAPTER 2: FIRE OPAL

  Tommy was sitting on a plane, thinking about Fire Opal. He had met her about two years ago. She was a young Axis Lady, the daughter of another alien called Laser Wolf. Fire Opal and Laser Wolf had been prisoners in the City of Serenity, and had escaped with the other Axis Lords. However, because of the Axis satellite they hadn’t been able to escape from the planet.

  Tommy took out his phone and stared at a picture of Fire Opal. In the photo, she was wearing human clothes—blue jeans and a pink top. Only her purple eyes and white hair gave her away as not being human.

  When Tommy had met Fire Opal in the City of Serenity, he had instantly fallen in love with her. Amazingly, she had felt the same way about him. Fire Opal had created an email address after moving to Italy with her father. Although Fire Opal was amused by how primitive the technology was, they emailed each other nearly every day. Fire Opal had visited England a few times with Laser Wolf, but Tommy had never gone to Italy to visit her. But he had finally persuaded his parents to let him go.

  He had more than enough money to make the trip. Moonstone, the Axis Lady who had tried to destroy the Earth, had given Martin a large bag of diamonds right before her death. The three friends had shared them equally, so they were all now very rich.

  Tommy stared at the photograph for most of the flight, wondering what he would talk to Fire Opal about. Eventually, the plane landed, and Tommy stepped out into Italy.

  His heart beat heavily as he walked into the baggage area of the airport. He collected his luggage and made his way towards the main entrance. He had never been so nervous about meeting a girl before. Fire Opal was so warm, so beautiful, so special… in his distraction, Tommy walked into an old Italian man who was heading in the opposite direction.

  “Scusa,” said Tommy.

  Falcon had given Tommy the power of omnilinguism—the ability to speak and understand every single language. And that included Italian.

  Tommy stepped out into the warm Italian sunshine, and he immediately saw her. She had bright white hair and blue eyes; Tommy knew that if she wasn’t wearing a Deceiving Necklace her eyes would be purple. Fire Opal ran to Tommy and hugged him. Then she let go and looked down shyly.

  “Sorry,” she muttered.

  “Sorry? What are you sorry for? I want another hug!”

  Tommy hugged Fire Opal again and they both laughed. She really was the most beautiful girl Tommy had ever seen. She looked slightly older than the first time they had met, and even more attractive—if that was possible.

  “It’s so good to see you again,” said Tommy. “It’s been too long.”

  “Yeah, it has,” agreed Fire Opal.

  “Well,” said Tommy. “Well, let’s get a taxi. I’m going to leave my bags at the hotel, and then you can give me the tour.”

  They climbed into a taxi. Tommy had spent the whole plane journey worrying about what he would say to her, but Fire Opal was wonderfully easy to talk to. Besides, they already knew a lot about each other from their email conversations.

  “How’s your dad?” said Tommy. “I still remember that time he saved us when we were trapped in the VDS.”

  Fire Opal smiled. “He’s fine. He really loves it here in Florence, with all the art and architecture.”

  “And what do you think of it here?”

  “It’s nice,” said Fire Opal. “I get a bit tired of it sometimes though. I’ve spent my life being trapped in one place. I really want to explore.”

  Tommy reached out to her hand and slipped his fingers around hers.

  “Well, we can one day.”

  “Yes, I suppose we can.”

  Tommy dropped his bags off at his hotel, and Fire Opal began to show him around Florence. He had never been to Italy before, and he was astounded by the beauty of everything.

  “How are your friends?” said Fire Opal, as they strolled through a large green park.

  “Fine,” said Tommy. “Martin and Darcy are really happy together.”

  “I’m glad.” She sighed. “I’m so happy that you came to Florence, Tommy. A part of me didn’t think you’d actually come.” Fire Opal looked down at the ground as she made this admission.

  Tommy frowned. “Why not?”

  “It just seemed too good to be true.”

  Tommy felt a wave of emotion. He stopped walking and took Fire Opal’s hand.

  “Fire Opal, I’ve never felt this way about any girl before. I’m really serious about you. I…”

  “Yes?” Fire Opal’s eyes widened.

  “I love you, Fire Opal.”

  Unexpectedly, the girl began to cry. For a second, Tommy wondered if he should have waited longer before telling her. Had he made some dreadful mistake? But then he realised that she was crying because she was happy.

  “I love you, too, Tommy.”

  Tommy had never heard such wonderful words in his entire life. He looked into Fire Opal’s opal eyes, and they kissed.

  *

  A few days later, they went out for a meal together—Tommy had booked a table at a local restaurant called Dei Frescobaldi. They made their way to it on foot as the sky darkened. A tall man in a tuxedo greeted them when they entered.

  They sat down at a small table, and a waiter lit a candle for them. Tommy glanced at the menu. He was hardly an expert when it came to fine dining, but luckily his omnilinguism meant he could read the Italian menu.

  “What are you having?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” said Fire Opal, deliberating over the menu.

  Tommy decided to opt for the Bolognese, which seemed like a safe choice. Fire Opal had some simple pasta with tomatoes, despite Tommy’s protestations that she should have something tastier.

  As the waiter walked away with their orders, the lights flickered over their table. Tommy looked up at the bulb.

  “Must be faulty,” he muttered.

  The waiter brought their food, but the lights above their table were still flickering. He apologised, and suggested that they move to another table. Tommy nodded, and the waiter carried their food to another table. However, the flickering seemed to follow them, and the lights above their new table began to waver. Tommy glanced out of the restaurant window. Strangely, the streetlights were flickering too, as were the lights in the buildings across the street.

  “Look,” said Tommy. “I wonder what’s causing that.”

  Fire Opal frowned. “If I didn’t know better I’d say it was electrical modulation caused by a high-energy tracing device.”

  “And what would that mean?”

  “Well, if it was a high-energy tracing device, it would mean that someone was looking for you, Tommy.”

  Tommy shivered. They finished their meal, paid the bill, and stepped out into the misty street. As they walked, the streetlights over their head began to stutter. Fire Opal immediately became tense.

  “What is it—what’s wrong?” said Tommy.

  “The mist.” Fire Opal waved her hand through the fog. “It’s warm—this is Tracer Mist.”

  Tommy touched the fog. She was right; it was warm.

  “But what does that mean? What’s Tracer Mist?”

  “The electrical disturbances, the Mist—somebody is definitely trying to track you down, Tommy.” She paused. “This is Axis Lord technology. Come on, let’s walk faster.”

  They quickened their step, walking past a beggar who had a dark hood pulled over his head.

 
“Spare change?” he asked.

  Tommy was going to walk past him but Fire Opal had stopped. She was staring at the homeless person with a strange expression on her face.

  “What is it?” said Tommy.

  “It’s an Axis Lord,” said Fire Opal.

  The beggar stood up, laughing, and removed his hood. It was a young man—and he was clearly an Axis Lord. He had a high domed forehead, and his white hair was gelled back.

  “Sorry,” he said, his purple eyes gleaming. “I’ve always enjoyed disguises. It’s a weakness of mine. It is a pleasure to meet you both. And you’re actually on a date together! It’s nice to see that human-Axis Lord relations are flourishing.”

  Tommy put a protective arm around Fire Opal.

  “I take it you’re the one who’s been trying to track me down?” said Tommy.

  “Yes,” said the Axis Lord. “Well done. I’ve been trying to find you and your friends for a while, but you were being shielded somehow. Luckily, when you got on that plane you must have left the field of protection.”

  “So what do you want from me?” said Tommy.

  “I want to show you something. Follow me.”

  They didn’t really have a choice but to follow. Tommy knew what Axis Lords were capable of. The man led them down several side streets until they came to a strange house. It was leaning strangely to one side, and almost looked as if it was ready to collapse.

  “I bought this place when I last visited Florence about three years ago,” said the alien. “It’s not the most appealing of houses, but it’s out of the way.”

  The Axis Lord led them through the front door and up two flights of darkened stairs. They climbed out onto the flat roof of the building. The stars hung overhead, brightly shining, and the Axis Lord smiled at Tommy and Fire Opal.

  “I haven’t introduced myself,” he said. “My name is Mulciber. I already know your names.” Mulciber stared at the starry heavens. “It’s peaceful, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” said Tommy.