by Susan Moore
Thinking she would surprise him, she sprang up into a double-leg kick position but instead of seeing Jamuka’s head in her path her vision was blocked by a storm of red petals.
She landed hard on the mat. Jamuka’s hand slid under her armpit, helping her up.
“Is something wrong, Bao Bao?” he asked.
She blinked. The petals were gone.
“Red petals. That was all I could see. Red petals.”
Chapter Thirteen
CENTRAL POST OFFICE
Nat turned her Slider into the South Fin entrance of the SPIN rocket skyscraper. She passed through the shimmering silver air curtain and entered a skysoaring glass atrium.
Glancing up she saw that the café and shopping level above were already teeming with customers. She pulled into the parking zone and found a free slot.
“Reminder. Parcel from Central Post Office awaiting collection,” announced Fizz.
“After the gaming session,” said Nat.
A robotic Badgerbat swooped down, coming to a hover in mid-air.
“Welcome to SPIN. Can I help you?”
Nat held up Fizz.
“Identify,” she said.
Fizz’s eyes lit up as he swapped data with the Badgerbat.
“Welcome, Rainfox. Your gaming session is due to start in ten minutes in Six Alpha,” said the Badgerbat.
“Thanks,” she said, enjoying the anonymity of her gaming handle.
No one knew who she really was, except a few SPIN employees. If they did she’d be mobbed. Instead she had always been known as Rainfox, the name her father had registered for her when she was born.
“Call from Henry,” announced Fizz, retracting his talons from the handlebar.
She picked him up. His wings spread and Henry appeared, filling the screen with his round, freckled face. He was wearing his black Slider helmet.
“Hai, Henry.”
“I’m still at Wetley Towers. Prissy’s giving me a lift but she’s freaking out about her hair,” he whined.
Off screen she heard Prissy let out a screech.
“Don’t tell her that, you little snitch!”
Henry leaned into camera. “She borrowed Mummy’s new hair curlers but it’s made her hair all fried and frizzy,” he whispered. “Please will you come and get me?”
Nat had a sudden brainwave.
“No, I’ve got a better idea. Get Prissy to drop you at Central Post Office and I’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.”
She cut the call.
“Fizz, tell the Badgerbat to rebook our gaming session for ten o’clock.”
Fizz’s eyes flashed red. Nat turned her Slider around and headed out into Central.
Nat heard Prissy’s approach before she saw her. The boppy beat of The Frou-Bunnies girl band came blasting up the post office ramp. Seconds later a hot-pink Slider with glitter finish appeared, its rider in a matching helmet, wearing a pair of Shan-xi yellow hotpants with matching jacket. Sitting on the back of the board, strapped into the extender seat was Henry, red-faced with embarrassment.
“He’s all yours,” said Prissy, pulling up to a hover.
She looked Nat up and down, her eyes narrowing with disdain as she took in her blue Slider shorts, boots and Smart T-shirt.
“I see what Mum means. You do look like a boy,” she sneered, releasing Henry’s seat straps. Kicking her foot back she booted Henry off the Slider.
“Ouch!” he cried.
Prissy thrust forward her handlebars. Her Slider lurched forward and off.
“Losers!” she shouted back over her shoulder.
“I wish I could trade her in for another sister,” moaned Henry as she disappeared down the ramp.
Nat put her hand on his shoulder and steered him towards the glass doors.
“Don’t worry about her. Let’s grab the package I’ve got to pick up and head over to SPIN.”
“Ku dragon,” said the woman behind the counter, when Nat pointed his snout at the post office check-in screen.
“Thanks.”
The woman smiled.
“I’ve never seen a robot like him before. They’re all so big these days.”
“He’s vintage. Pay fee, Fizz.”
Fizz’s eyes lit up bright green as he communicated with the screen. Seconds later a hatch in the wall slid open and a metal robotic arm swung out, depositing the parcel on the counter. It was sealed inside a clear plastic customs inspection bag.
“Ah, you’re the one this is for,” said the woman. “Looks like it should have been delivered a couple of centuries ago. Ha ha!”
“Zoinks,” said Nat, taking it from her.
She peeled off the “Inspected by Customs” tape and reached inside the bag.
“Wow, looks like it came from a museum!” said Henry.
Nat gasped at the jar-shaped, leather-bound package. Henry let out a low whistle.
“Ku! Let’s open it.”
“No, it’s for Jamuka,” she said, seeing the address. “Fizz. Call him.”
Fizz beeped, his eyes flashed amber and he spread his wings. Jamuka appeared on screen wearing round mirrored sunglasses. He was down on the racetrack holding the reins of an enormous chestnut horse.
“Dragon Khan looks well,” said Nat, noticing his glossy coat.
“The vet has declared him back on top form. I see you have finally made it to the post office.”
“It’s for you.”
She held the package up to the screen. Jamuka whipped off his sunglasses. His face turned ashen.
“What?” said Nat, looking back down at the parcel.
There was a pause before he spoke. When he did he sounded hoarse, as if the breath had been sucked out of him.
“Bring it here as fast as you can, Bao Bao.”
“What’s the matter? What’s in it?” she said.
Jamuka levelled his gaze at her. Nat detected something she had never seen in his eyes before. Fear. Her heart started to thump.
“Just get here as soon as you can.”
“You want us to come to Happy Valley?”
“Yes.”
“But––”
Before she could finish, he cut the call. Fizz beeped, folding in his wings.
“Do you think it’s a bomb?” asked Henry.
Nat felt a pang of guilt. If only she’d picked it up yesterday.
“Don’t think so. I’ve never seen him look like that before. Zoula!”
She turned and headed back towards the lifts.
Henry frowned. “But what about our trip to SPIN?”
Chapter Fourteen
HAPPY VALLEY
Nat turned her Slider into the Happy Valley owners’ entrance and pulled up to a hover at the gate. A racetrack security guard dressed in a green jacket walked out of his booth.
“Natalie Walker to see Jamuka Borjigin,” she said.
He looked from her to Henry, who was sitting in the extender seat at the back.
“With Henry Walker,” she added.
He nodded, peeled a numbered red sticker off the sheet and stuck it on to her handlebars.
“You’re expected at the Pat Carey stable. Don’t stop off anywhere else. You’re not really meant to be here,” he said.
The barrier started to lift. Nat looked up ahead. There were three separate lanes. She’d never been allowed in before.
“Which one do I take?”
He pointed to the one on the far left. “Level Seven. They’re expecting you.”
She pushed the handlebars forward and the Slider moved off. A little way along she turned a sweeping corner to find a tall, round white building looming up ahead. She drove up the ramp and inside. The lane split. Ahead stood a set of gates with a black and white sign above saying, “Level One. Delioto Stables”.
She continued along the right fork. It started to twist up and up like a helter-skelter.
“They keep horses in here?” said Henry through the headset in her helmet.
“Yes, it’s the new
stables,” said Nat.
“It’s like Wetley Towers,” said Henry. “But for horses. It’d be ku to live here.”
By the time they reached Level Seven Nat felt dizzy from the climb. She pulled up at the gates and pressed a red buzzer. Moments later a thin man in rubber boots appeared.
“Hey, what are you kids doing here? You’ve got to be eighteen,” he said in a gruff voice.
“We’re here to see Jamuka Borjigin. It’s urgent,” said Nat.
Someone shouted from behind the gate. Nat couldn’t quite hear what they said but the thin man disappeared back inside and the gates swung open. The smell of sweet hay and warm horses hit Nat’s nostrils as she pulled in. She wrinkled her nose.
“Park here,” said the thin man, pointing to a spot between two Sliders emblazoned with yellow and black stripes, and the words “Pat Carey Racing”.
“I feel sick,” said Henry, removing his safety strap and jumping to the ground.
“Follow me,” said the man, ignoring him.
Nat put Fizz on her shoulder, grabbed Henry by the arm and set off after him. They passed through a set of metal doors into the stables. It was a tall, open space with huge paddle fans attached to the ceiling, which were rotating slowly, creating a cool downward breeze. A central corridor ran the length of the floor. On either side stood a row of loose boxes. The wooden lower doors were all locked with digital key codes. The railings above were painted in black and yellow stripes, making it feel like a giant beehive. A few horses had their heads stuck out over the doors.
A grey horse whinnied as they walked past. Nat was so used to robotic animals that she jumped in surprise.
Halfway down the row, the thin man disappeared off to the right.
“This way!” he called.
Nat broke into a run, anxious not to lose him.
“Hey, wait for me!” said Henry, trailing after.
She found a narrow alleyway, wide enough for a horse to pass through. It opened out on to an openair exercise yard, high above ground level. Jamuka stood talking to a white-haired man wearing a black polo shirt and jodhpurs. They were watching Dragon Khan being walked around on a long rein by a stable hand.
“Swift like a bird, not slow like a tortoise, Bao Bao,” said Jamuka, seeing her.
“We came as fast as we could,” said Nat.
“Natalie Walker, Henry Walker, this is Pat Carey,” said Jamuka.
The white-haired man smiled and nodded towards them.
“A pleasure to meet you both,” he said in a thick Irish accent.
They shook hands. Nat reached into her backpack and pulled out the package.
“Here,” she said, handing it over.
Jamuka’s hand shook as he took it from her.
“Can I have the stamps for my collection?” asked Henry.
“Not now, Henry. Please stay with Mr Carey. Bao Bao, come with me.”
He led her to a shaded viewing area.
“Take a seat,” he said, sitting down on one of the folding chairs.
“What’s in it?” she asked, watching him carefully turn the package over in his long fingers.
There was a soft cracking sound as he broke the blue wax seal on the base. He pulled the leather packaging off to reveal a silver jar stamped with star shapes. He unscrewed the lid and extracted a piece of damp grey cloth. His fingers trembled as he peeled it open. Inside lay a large red petal. It was divided into two shades of red – one very dark, almost black; the other bright scarlet – by a jagged electric-blue line. On the inside of the cloth, bold words had been written in black ink. Jamuka narrowed his eyes, scanning them. His brow furrowed with deep lines. He took a sharp intake of breath, slipped off the chair and fell to his knees.
Chapter Fifteen
ROCKETBOAT
Nat dodged in and out of the busy Slider lane traffic trying to beat Jamuka back to Causeway Bay. With Henry in the extender seat she had to be careful not to whip round anyone too quickly, otherwise the back would fishtail out.
“I’m feeling sick again,” moaned Henry.
She eased off the throttle.
“At this rate, he’ll be gone,” she grumbled. “Fizz, give me Jamuka’s location.”
Fizz raised his snout up off his chest from where he was hunkered down over the handlebars. His eyes flashed as he checked in with Jamuka’s FastPad.
“On board the Junko,” he announced.
She gritted her teeth. “Henry, sorry, but hang on tight.”
“What?” he cried, as she turned the Slider out of the congested Slider lane and into the flow of road traffic.
Fizz’s eyes flashed red, a spurt of smoke pluming out of his snout.
“Illegal move!” he blasted out.
“I know,” said Nat. “But it’s the only way to get there in time.”
She slotted in behind a wok-fat-fuelled delivery truck and a city buggy, which were clipping along down Canal Road. The buggy driver beeped his horn but Nat took no notice.
“What if Mummy finds out?” shouted Henry, hanging on at the back.
“She’ll never know,” said Nat, pushing the Slider up to top speed.
She’d rather lose her licence than not see Jamuka before he left. She still had no idea why he had to leave immediately. All she knew was that the package contained some very bad news about his Clan in Mongolia. He’d run out of the stables, leapt into his Grooverider and taken off at top speed, heading towards the Junko. A chill ran through her as she thought of the red petal again. It was exactly the same as the ones that had rained down in her nightmare.
“Police ahead,” announced Fizz, the tip of his snout flashing red.
Nat tucked in behind the truck. Seconds later they passed a stationary black patrol car marked with a red sun on its doors. A policewoman had pulled over a city buggy.
“Phew!” said Nat.
“We could have been locked up in jail,” moaned Henry.
Nat took the Royal Yacht Club turning and opted to take a short cut over the lawn towards the tall masts of the Junko, which were peeping over a line of super-yachts.
BOOM! The Noon Day Gun blasted out across the bay. Henry yelped.
“Zoinks, Henry! You know they do that every day,” she said, laughing.
“I’d forgotten and don’t laugh at me. It’s not funny.”
“Sorry.”
She whisked them up the Junko’s gangplank, flipped off the power switch and jumped down off the Slider, leaving Henry strapped in as it lowered on to the Junko’s deck.
“Hey, wait for me!” he shouted.
Nat leapt in through the central hatch, landing in the passageway. She ran past her cabin until she reached the last door at the end.
Jamuka was inside, packing the few items laid out on his bed into a Kevlar backpack. She leapt on to the mattress.
“Please let me come with you! I know it’ll be a hard journey but I’m a fast runner and one day I’ll be a black belt if I practise hard enough…”
Jamuka stopped. He sat down next to her, taking her hand in his. “You are the most important person in the world to me. But my Clan is in danger so it is my duty to go to them.”
“What danger?”
“A strange and terrible sickness has fallen upon the Clan and the wolf pack. The elders say that the Mana speaks of danger from outside and devastation within,” he whispered.
“Mana?” said Nat.
She quietly tapped Fizz’s head. He squeaked and popped up out of her top jacket pocket. His eyes lit up and his ears twisted round to listen and record. Her mind was racing through the stories that Jamuka had told her of his Clan in Mongolia. They lived high up on the Steppe in a land of endless forests and grassy plains.
Her bedtime stories had been filled with tales of his childhood: riding horses faster than the wind, hunting with wolves in the dark of night, swimming in ice-cold rivers. They were fairytales, a world away from Hong Kong. Now it seemed that the ancient-looking package was bringing them to life.
“When there is a problem to solve, the Clan elders climb to a mountaintop at sunset and wait for the moon to appear. From there, they watch the land below, looking for the slightest changes in nature. These changes produce strange flickers of light called Mana from which the elders can predict the future. They say the Mana has called for me.”
“But why you? Can’t they just get a doctor?”
Jamuka picked up a small tin of Vietnamese weasel coffee and loaded it into the backpack. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “There is more to this than what a doctor can prescribe.”
Out of the corner of her eye Nat spied a squirrel’s head peering around the cabin doorway. Its eyes were lit up, electric blue, and its ears were pricked, which meant only one thing.
She ran out to find Henry on his knees holding NutNut, who was filming what was going on inside.
Seizing NutNut from Henry, she pressed its black shiny nose. The robot’s eyes snapped shut, its ears flattened against its head.
“This is private!” she said.
“What’s Mana again?” he asked.
She pointed up the passageway.
“Go up on deck. I’ll be up soon.”
He scowled and stomped off.
“I want to come with you,” she said, turning back to Jamuka.
He picked the star jar up off the bed and handed it to her.
“Look after this while I am gone.”
The weight of the jar felt as if it was anchoring her to the boat, stopping her from leaving with him.
“How do I get in touch with you? You told me there’s no reception where the Clan is.”
“Just use Fizz to leave me messages and I will find a way to check them.”
He zipped up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder.
“What will I do without you?”
She swallowed hard. Jamuka had never left her, not once, since her parents had died.
“Ah Wong will care for you until my return.”
The loud roar of a Rocketboat engine came blasting in through the porthole.