Beyond the Knock Knock Door

by Scott Monk

  ‘Why should I?’ the black harlequin answered, collapsing his spyglass and meeting him halfway. ‘I use people or push them out of my way.’ He did just that by jabbing his walking cane into Michael’s chestplate, sending him sprawling.

  ‘Knock me down and I’ll just keep standing up again.’

  The black harlequin hummed as Michael stubbornly returned to his feet. ‘Brave words, but words still the same.’

  He nodded to the Vulture, who whirled his fighting staff and tripped Michael to the deck, much to the amusement of the others. ‘Ooooh!’ they catcalled when he stood again. Finally, some fun.

  ‘Untie me! Or are you afraid I’ll beat you in a fair fight?’

  The black harlequin turned. ‘May I remind you, you might be dressed like the Gold Knight, but you’re still a boy in a costume. This silly bravado will only end in pain.’

  ‘Coward! But hey, you’re so gutless you kidnap people when they’re asleep.’

  The black harlequin sparked with a fistful of blue electricity. ‘Child, respect your elders.’

  A lightning bolt threw Michael against the crates. His whole body spasmed as sharp pain sizzled through his bones and along his jaw.

  ‘Still eager, Sir Michael of Earth?’

  The black harlequin leered at him, and when Michael turned his face away it was clear who was in charge.

  The white harlequin returned to strumming as boredom settled across the skysled. Michael grimaced as he rolled forward and tried sitting. Every joint ached. He wasn’t complaining. The black harlequin had spared his life. No doubt he had enough power in his hands to kill.

  Sweat ran down Michael’s cheek. Instinctively, he tried mopping it with his shoulder. As he flexed his arms, the ropes tying his hands gently ripped. He stopped. He glanced around and checked no one else had heard. He flexed his arms again and felt superhuman strength surge through his armour. The fibres tore like cobwebs and dropped to the deck. When the blue harlequin turned, Michael looked away, keeping his wrists behind him.

  That was it! His armour’s special power. If it received a blow, it absorbed that energy and stored it. The more blows it took, the stronger Michael became. So when he crash-landed among all these crates, his armour had recharged with enough strength to break the ropes.

  The mandolin’s strings caterwauled. ‘Gentlemen!’ the white harlequin yelled. ‘The boy!’

  The nearest blue harlequin reacted first. He ran forward to tackle him, but Michael spun away and clambered over the crates. He desperately sought his sword until a lightning bolt pulsed past his ear and nearly fried him. Helplessly exposed, he crouched as several harlequins advanced, readying their lethal tricks. The Lady of Hearts rolled another glass ball on her fingertips; the Fireflies breathed flames; the green harlequin unfurled his shark-tamer’s whip; while the purple one switched on an illusion generator and multiplied himself with three duplicates.

  ‘My lady – finish this!’

  The red harlequin twisted her globe, which smoked with orange gas. As she readied to throw it at Michael, she vanished!

  ‘WAHOO!’ Luke yelled as he hurtled across the twisting sea, holding the Lady of Hearts. By the time she realised she’d been kidnapped at high speed, she stood on a coral cay, marooned.

  Her globe of orange gas had still fallen to the deck, however. Instead of smashing at Michael’s feet, it cracked open among a cluster of nearby harlequins. They hacked inside the smoke cloud until silence overcame them. When the air cleared, each one stood paralysed.

  The rest discovered they were under attack. An armada of dolphins and whales darted towards the skysled, carrying fifteen Scorned warriors. At the front rode Tahoke and Samantha.

  ‘Stop them!’ the black harlequin yelled.

  Michael dropped down the starboard side to reach Aurelio, but the two big blue harlequins blocked his way. He also stood firm. The two lugs exchanged glances, smiled and closed in. Perfect. Michael used his super-strength to launch a crate at the nearest one and smacked him squarely in the chest.

  The second blue harlequin roared in anger as his twin collapsed unconscious on the metal deck. He picked up the same crate and launched it back at Michael, who ducked and watched it disappear straight down the dark, deep middle of the whirlpool.

  Another crate splintered near Michael’s head, and he backed away from the bullish man. Tahoke came to his rescue, leaping off his dolphin and tackling the blue harlequin to the ground. They wrestled and fought each other with brutal punches until the chieftain yelled, ‘Get control of the ship!’

  Battle cries rang out as the Scorned boarded the skysled and clashed with the remaining harlequins. Michael retrieved his sword then cut Aurelio free, only to be set upon by the white harlequin armed with a blowpipe. She breathed in and fired a poison dart, only to have it swatted away by the piper’s glowing red magnetic broach. She readied to shoot a second, but a cutlass chopped her weapon in half. Shocked, she turned to face a snarling Samantha, who yelled, ‘Am I allowed to be a pirate now?’

  ‘Yes!’ Michael shouted back.

  The white harlequin screamed and plucked a poisoned dart from her belt. She lunged at Samantha, who sidestepped at the last moment. The dart sank into the shoulder of the yellow harlequin, who shook violently then buckled.

  The white harlequin shrieked again and lashed out. The punch missed Samantha but not the railing. The harlequin screamed and crumpled, nursing her right hand.

  ‘Watch out!’ Luke yelled, tackling his sister as blue lightning exploded next to her. They sheltered behind the crates, as the black harlequin gained the upper hand.

  Any Scorned hunter that charged his way was easily dispensed with a blue bolt of energy. It also gave his troupe time to coordinate their tactics. The sun harlequin dropped blinding flash grenades. The purple harlequin and his holographic triplets befuddled their attackers. The green harlequin called sharks to the battle and scattered the dolphins. And the Vulture cartwheeled, leapt and knocked out any remaining opponents with his wooden fighting staff.

  ‘This ends now!’ the black harlequin said, firing a warning shot over the steering wheel. Michael backed away. The mutiny was quashed. ‘I’m the captain of this ship. Surrender your weapons.’

  Samantha and Michael’s swords clanged on the deck, but Tahoke charged forward, swinging his club. The black harlequin easily blasted him into unconsciousness.

  ‘Pathetic,’ he said, stepping over the bodies of the fallen warriors. ‘You!’ he growled at the white harlequin. ‘Radio our friends. Find out why they haven’t arrived yet, then tell them we’ve got extra cargo for pick-up. Premium dollar.’

  She glared at him but heeded his orders.

  Snapping his cloak around him, the black harlequin strolled forward and slammed down his walking cane. ‘Your little rebellion is finished. The last Great Chief of the Thirteen Tribes is captured. His islands will now fall just as fast. Well done, children. You’ve secured our final victory.’

  ‘You’re forgetting one small problem,’ Michael said.

  ‘Oh yes? And what would that be?’

  Their swords magnetically flew back into their hands with the help of a pied piper.

  ‘A blue whale playing ten pin bowls.’

  The remaining harlequins whipped round to see Leeuwin soar straight at them with Aurelio on her back. She skittled the Fireflies, the Vulture, the green and purple harlequins – and just missed their leader. The white harlequin straddled a dolphin and fled as the blue whale curved upwards then circled for another strafe.

  The black harlequin rushed to the harpoon gun and aimed. Michael charged at him but –

  BOOM!

  ‘Aurelio!’

  The piper looked at his friends one last time before he and the big blue whale, mortally wounded, plummeted into the whirlpool. To the sound of horrified cries, the enormous hole swallowed them both.

  ‘NO!’

  Luke grabbed a spear and rushed at the black harlequin, who swivelled, parried and sent th
e boy tumbling across the deck. Samantha attacked next. Her sword connected with his cane, and, with a jerk, he disarmed and dispatched her with a kick.

  Nimbly, he toed her cutlass into his hand and spun to block Michael’s blade. They separated then slashed, chopped and hacked in a deadly duel. Metal rang against metal as neither gave any quarter. Michael boiled with the anger of his friend’s death. Finally, Michael feigned a clumsy counterattack, let the black harlequin lunge, then at the last moment changed direction and knocked away his cutlass. He punched the harlequin in the chin and sent him spinning.

  Michael booted the cutlass back to his sister then circled the black harlequin, who knelt on all fours to pick up his mask. It had been dislodged, along with his three-cornered hat. As Michael tried to see the man’s face, the black harlequin urgently secured it in place and plugged the electricity leaking from inside.

  ‘Enough!’ the black harlequin hissed, his blue eyes no longer human but raging sparks.

  Lightning hit Michael square in the chest and threw him across the deck. His body jolted and burned against the railings. Luke pushed his sister aside and cannoned straight for the black harlequin, but was also shot down.

  He then spun on Samantha and said, ‘Want another go, princess?’

  Prickled by fear and anger, she ground her teeth and asked, ‘Did you just call me “princess”?’ She threw aside her hat, swapped her cutlass for the Vulture’s staff then twirled it to gauge its weight. She chose a middle-guard kendo stance, stood with her right foot forward, slightly lifted her left heel and relaxed her shoulders, just as her sensei had taught her. ‘Victory means survival, defeat means death,’ she whispered.

  He unsnapped his cloak, scooped up a spear and, amused at fighting a twelve-year-old girl, lashed out. Swiftly, she blocked each deadly strike with ease and kept her cool. He, on the other hand, soon grew frustrated. He jabbed the spear at her several times before swinging it like a baseball bat. She caught another blow next to her cheek, smiled, then retaliated with precision. She crunched his wrist, hip and stomach; smacked his elbows; and numbed his shoulders. Soon, his spear spilt across the deck and she pushed him back with every hammering, steering him towards a gap in the railings. Three more steps and he’d tumble from the skysled into the whirlpool.

  Her heartbeat fluttered as the harlequin reached the edge. Feeling the salty winds blow up his back, he suddenly realised her plan. “You need to learn patience,” her sensei had warned. She squeezed the hilt of the staff, drew on all her strength then thrust forward.

  Unfortunately, the slight hesitation saved him. He leapt over her head, landed behind her then swept her feet from under her. Forlornly, she slammed on the deck and heard the wooden staff bounce into the sea.

  ‘Bravo,’ he said, yanking hold of her long black hair. ‘A cunning tactic, young miss. Pity you’re not one of us. You’d make a great harlequin.’

  She clawed, kicked and screamed as he spun her by the hair towards that very same gap. Below her, the wide, hungry hole of the giant whirlpool roared.

  ‘Murderer!’ Michael yelled.

  The black harlequin’s eyes blazed as the boy-knight crash-tackled him around the waist. Forced to let go of Samantha, the black harlequin grabbed at a railing but caught nothing but air!

  Screaming, he fell overboard.

  Victory came at a cost, however. Michael had rushed at him with too much speed and, heavy with armour, couldn’t slow his momentum. Luke and Samantha yelled as he, too, tumbled overboard.

  29

  A blue flash forced Luke and Samantha back from the edge of the skysled. For a few moments, everything was caught in a time stutter. Unknowingly, Luke ran in reverse, stopped, yelled with outstretched arms, rushed to the railing, then zipped backwards again. His sister did likewise – jumping to her feet and lying down over and over. The hover engines whined and the flying platform shook underfoot, but within seconds the stabilisers kicked in and full power returned. Luke and Samantha blinked away the stinging blindness then looked at the whirlpool, fearing for their brother.

  But rather than see Michael splash into the sea, their hearts filled with relief. Dangling midair and stripped of both gauntlets and helmet, he twisted in the wind, arms stretched to breaking point.

  ‘Get me up!’

  Luke’s jetpack gave one final blast before he returned his brother to safety. Using Samantha’s jacket as a pillow, they laid him on the deck. And just in time, too. Michael’s shoulders were ready to pop their sockets.

  ‘But how?’ she asked.

  ‘The crates,’ he pointed, still weak from the lightning surge.

  Luke rushed over and found the Gold Knight’s gauntlets, helmet and sword wedged among the crates. When he fished them out, they boomeranged back to their rightful owner.

  A wide grin cracked across Michael’s face. ‘The magnetism works both ways.’

  Samantha smiled, too, her eyes red. ‘Don’t do that again, okay? Dying’s a filthy habit.’

  He laughed as she cried.

  Half an hour later, the three of them tended to the surviving warriors of the Thirteen Tribes the best that they could. Some had lost their lives; others needed a hospital.

  ‘Has anyone ever survived the whirlpool?’ Michael asked, leaning hard against the railing as he stared below. He wiped away a tear before anyone noticed.

  Tahoke winced as he hobbled beside him and spied the swirling vortex. ‘I’m sorry. Our friend, Aurelio, has joined his fathers.’

  Michael closed his eyes and mumbled a prayer.

  Across from him, his brother and sister removed a tarpaulin covering some crates and discovered a cage with leg irons. It had clearly been used to smuggle captives to the Broken Isles. As fitting justice, they locked the harlequins inside.

  ‘Who’s a little birdie now?’ Luke asked. ‘Wark! Wark! Wark!’

  The Vulture spat. Just like the rest of his troupe, he’d been stripped of his weapons, costume and mask. To the triplets’ surprise, each one was human. Not Pacificans. Not monsters. Not hideous beings. Just plain humans.

  ‘We should get moving,’ Michael said, heading to the steering wheel to distract himself from his grief. ‘That slaver ship should have found us already.’

  ‘The same slaver ship whose frequency I’ve been jamming?’ Luke asked, tapping his wristpad.

  Michael laughed with a pang of guilt. He should never have left his siblings behind at the Scorned camp. They worked best as a team.

  ‘Well, I’ve got my pirate ship,’ Samantha said. ‘What do you say? Time to find a good drive-through?’

  ‘We must return to the mines and free my people,’ Tahoke said. ‘We need to raise an army against these Pacificans.’

  ‘No,’ Michael said firmly. ‘War will only mean more deaths. Besides, we’ve almost won the battle. All that’s left to do is to tell Queen Oriana, who’ll arrest the surviving traitors and free your people.’

  ‘What are we waiting for?’ Luke asked. ‘Let’s find out who they are.’

  A subdued laughter rolled from the deck of the skysled as it hovered off a coral cay. The Lady of Hearts shrieked in frustration as her last glass globe sailed past Luke, who playfully jetted around her. After another hour of standing in the glaring sun without food or water, she surrendered.

  ‘Now, missy,’ Samantha said, walking up to her. ‘Let’s see if I’m right about who’s behind this mask.’ She ripped it off but ended up disappointed.

  The Lady of Hearts snarled at them with an unfamiliar face. She had strawberry blonde hair, pale skin and wrinkles spreading from her eyes. She too was human: an off-worlder, not a Pacifican.

  ‘Secret police need people in power to protect them,’ Samantha said. ‘Who are you working for?’

  The Lady of Hearts smirked and turned away. Undeterred, Samantha repeated the question. ‘And remember, there’s still a shipping ban on the Western Seas. It might be a long, long time before you’re found out here.’

  ‘We harlequins work f
or no one!’

  ‘Suit yourself. You better hope the sharks don’t get you first.’

  The skysled sped across the seas towards Pacifico. Tahoke piloted the controls while Samantha rifled through the harlequins’ costumes for clues.

  ‘Wait!’ Michael said. ‘We’ve got to turn back.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked.

  Michael hobbled to the stern and pointed back towards the whirlpool. ‘Don’t you see? It’s the Knock-Knock Door!’

  His siblings joined him, but they didn’t share his excitement.

  ‘Think about it. It attracts lots of water.’

  ‘But there’s no Door,’ Luke said. ‘It’s just a giant hole.’

  ‘Maybe it’s on the seabed. What else can hold that much water except an ocean?’

  Sceptical, Luke turned to his sister then Tahoke, who clicked in frustration to his surviving warriors. None looked too pleased. ‘I’m not with you on this one, Mikey.’

  ‘What did you just say?’ she interrupted.

  ‘It’s on the seabed,’ Michael repeated.

  ‘No, after that. “What else can hold that much water except an ocean?”’ She groaned and slapped her forehead. ‘How stupid of me. I’ve been thinking too small.’

  ‘Sam, start making sense because the nearest loony house is a million planets away.’

  She joined Tahoke at the steering wheel. ‘I know where the Knock-Knock Door is. It’s not the whirlpool. It’s back at Pacifico.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Michael asked.

  ‘Absolutely. Let’s rescue the Queen Bee then go home.’

  30

  Stingrays soared beside the skysled as it descended into Pacifico. Below, among the streets and canals, the city was at its busiest. Royal yachts and presidential starships from a hundred worlds were moored in the marina under tight security as their leaders joined the tricentennial celebrations.

  ‘Take your positions,’ Tahoke warned, dressed in the blue harlequin’s costume. ‘We’re approaching the titans.’ The triplets finished securing the tarpaulin over the cage and crates then stood defiantly in their own harlequin disguises. Two marines on the giant stony crown stared at them with a mixture of suspicion and loathing before turning away, allowing the skysled to continue unopposed.