by Greg Pace
I turned to her. “Huh?
“Didn’t they explain how they found the ship when you were brought into HQ?”
“Your father said it was discovered in his travels, that’s all.”
Ivy turned and walked deeper into the mysterious room, explaining along the way. “When the ship crashed on Earth, a sliver of its body was ripped off during atmosphere entry. A blacksmith eventually got the metal and forged it into the sword used by King Arthur.”
My mind was reeling. “But X-Calibur, the ship, looked flawless. I didn’t see any slivers missing,” I countered.
“It came off the very bottom. You can see the mark if you know where to look.”
We quickened our pace. “How do you know this?” I asked.
“My father has it written down in his files, in case something ever happens to him or Merlin.”
Ivy arrived at a wall that had a window of glass built into it, though it was too dark to see inside.
“After Arthur and the other knights passed away, Merlin and my father realized there was something special about Arthur’s sword. It was like no metal they’d ever seen. It ultimately led them to the crashed ship.”
I pointed to the dark piece of glass in the wall. “So what’s in there?”
“See for yourself.” She pointed to a switch next to the glass, and as I leaned forward to click it, I felt like everything was moving in slow motion, the world around me melting away, just as it had done while I fought the spar-bot.
There was a massive sword behind the glass, its razor-sharp blade glistening like water. There was zero doubt about where the metal of that blade had come from.
The sword’s handle was adorned with jewels—rubies and emeralds, probably worth millions of dollars. And even though the handle itself looked well-worn, the jewels sparkled with an almost magical brilliance.
“Excalibur,” I breathed. “It’s real.”
36
048:51:24
IN THE EARLY HOURS of the next morning, we found ourselves in an abandoned soccer stadium. The place was large enough to hold over fifty thousand people, but now it was in bad shape and long forgotten in the middle of the English countryside. No “civilians,” Pellinore assured us, would see us out there.
In the middle of the empty, shadowy field, brightly lit by the glow of its own mechanics, stood X-Calibur.
In the light cast by the spaceship, Pellinore paced before us. “We’re going to start things off differently,” he explained. He nodded to Merlin, a cue to show us a black velvet bag. “This bag contains six numbered rocks. Grab one, and keep it in your fist until told to reveal them. Understood?”
The six of us nodded. Darla gave me a little smile and whispered, “I’m glad you’re still here.”
I smiled back. “Me too.”
“Today will determine which of you will pilot X-Calibur. The chosen knight will train all day tomorrow with X-Calibur, while four of the remaining will continue working with the prototypes.”
Merlin walked down the line, giving each of us a chance to reach into the bag. “Okay. Reveal your numbers.”
We opened our fists. Incredibly, Malcolm had picked number one, Ivy had picked number two, Darla had picked three, Kwan four, Tyler five, and me last. If our rock choices were fate at work, then it didn’t say much for me.
“Malcolm, you’re up,” Pellinore said. “Show us what you can do in X-Calibur. Use the stadium airspace any way you see fit. Dazzle us.”
Malcolm stood at attention. “Yes, sir. And the weapons?”
“Fire at will,” Pellinore stated firmly, then added, “To that side of the stadium only, please.” He pointed across the field to the opposite side of the stadium. Malcolm’s brow furrowed, as did mine and everyone else’s.
“I’m . . . not sure I follow, sir,” he stammered. “You want me to shoot at the stadium?”
“Correct. How else will we get a taste of X-Calibur’s weaponry? Have no fear; I own this stadium. It’s mine to destroy.” He gave us all a wink.
“Yes, sir!” Malcolm barked, then hurried across the field. When he got to the ship, he looked back and gave us all a crisp salute. He’d been waiting his whole life for this moment.
As we waited for the ship to move, Pellinore fidgeted like a father watching his son take his first at-bat in a Little League game. “Talk to me, Malcolm,” he said when he couldn’t endure the suspense anymore. He nodded, listening to Malcolm respond through the earpiece, and then X-Calibur began to hum again and slowly rise. The fact that Malcolm had gotten the ship to even take off was apparently a big deal.
X-Calibur was only a few feet off the ground, though, when it suddenly swung around, its tail end almost clipping a few techs who quickly jumped out of the way. We gasped as the ship suddenly whipped its back end in the other direction, still hovering in place. More techs jumped for cover.
“Malcolm, what’s going on?!” Pellinore cried.
I put on my helmet, hoping Malcolm’s voice would be audible over the comm system.
“I’m not doing anything, sir!” Malcolm grunted, fighting the controls. “The ship is doing it on its own! I think it’s malfunctioning!”
I looked to the other knights, who had all followed my lead and put on their helmets. I didn’t think any of us had bargained for this.
“You’re the pilot!” Pellinore snapped. “That ship is a machine! Make it work for you! You’re a Gunn!”
Pellinore’s tactic worked. Malcolm got the ship to stop spinning, and it rose straight up with the grace of a bird.
“Excellent, Malcolm,” Pellinore said. “Now show us what the ship can do.”
The back of X-Calibur lit up even more as Malcolm gave it power. He could fly, there was no doubt about that, but the ship wasn’t doing anything all that different from the prototypes. As Malcolm soared around in wide laps, I glanced at Merlin and Pellinore. They had clearly hoped for something more. Something that would give us a fighting chance against Dredmore.
The ship whipped around to face away from us and Malcolm unleashed a barrage of weapon fire. Every blast shot from X-Calibur’s talon-shaped wings was like concentrated lightning, and the damage inflicted to the stadium was devastating. Entire sections crumbled as support beams were obliterated.
Pellinore and Merlin squinted as they observed the destruction. So far, X-Calibur had proven to be just another ship. And a temperamental one at that. Would it be enough to protect mankind?
X-Calibur stopped firing, then spun around and went low, cruising about ten feet over the stadium’s dead grass.
“Talk to me, Malcolm,” Pellinore said. But there was silence.
“Malcolm, you there?”
I yanked off my helmet to watch X-Calibur veer sideways and dip even lower.
“Malcolm?!” Pellinore repeated, but the ship swerved again and circled just a few feet off the ground. It’s looking for a place to land, I thought.
The second X-Calibur touched down, I heard a tiny beep. I looked to my countdown watch and gulped. It pulsed rapidly: XXX:XX:XX. The pulsing sped up—brighter, softer, brighter, softer. I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
In the middle of the field, Malcolm exited X-Calibur and jogged toward us, a triumphant grin on his face. Pellinore greeted him. “How did she handle?”
“Brilliantly,” Malcolm chirped. “Once I got the ship under control. There was interference on the comm line, though.”
With my eyes on my countdown watch and those pulsing “X”s, I thought, Of course there was interference. It’s the same thing that’s causing my watch to—
“Hey, something’s wrong with my watch,” Darla suddenly cried.
“Mine too!” Tyler confirmed.
I glanced at my own watch again and felt a chill. One by one, the others held out their wrists: 000:00:00.
The teams were running to
ward us, muttering into their headpieces.
“What’s this about?” Pellinore demanded.
“We just got confirmation from HQ. It’s go time!” one of the techs shouted in terror.
“The aliens, sir! They’re already here!”
37
000:00:00
WE SCRAMBLED to get back to HQ in total chaos. The techs hurried to load X-Calibur into the cargo copter, even though Malcolm practically got down on his knees and pleaded to fly the ship straight from the stadium and into battle.
When we arrived, we hurried into a war room command center. The techs brought up images of six menacing alien ships, two or three times the size of our own, in the skies over a small English town about fifty miles from HQ. Was Dredmore inside one of them? The possibility made me shudder.
Pellinore was livid as he ordered the removal of our watches. I stuck my arm in the metal box and felt a flash of heat near my wrist, then the sound of metal being sheared in two. I eyed the severed watch’s now-blank face, remembering all the “X”s that had been there. Had any of the other watches shown “X”s before changing to zeroes? Or just mine? I realized now that those flashing “X”s had been trying to communicate with me for some time now. Had X-Calibur been trying to warn me that the aliens were going to be here early?
“They’ve been using our tracking signal as a directional tool!” a tech shouted, waving a computer printout triumphantly. “It led them straight to us. They must have disrupted the signal to compromise the arrival estimates.” He exhaled heavily. “We never accounted for this, sir.”
Pellinore was speechless as techs began hijacking every form of communication in the town beneath the aliens: cell phone systems, land lines, television, radio, even emergency systems. We had to keep this battle, and the aliens, as secret as possible.
“Any damage so far?” Pellinore asked, but the techs shook their heads. The sky had grown increasingly gray and cloudy, helping to make the aliens less visible.
“Initiate fog cover!” Barrington growled.
Tiny missiles full of concentrated chemicals launched from the roof of HQ. When they detonated within the clouds, the town was shrouded in an even thicker layer of fog. Unless the aliens infiltrated to street level, it would be difficult for anyone on the ground to see what was about to go on above them.
“Benjamin, listen.” Beside me, Merlin leaned in close. “I’ll never persuade Percival to let you pilot X-Calibur. But you will fly a prototype.”
What? I hadn’t seen that coming. “The techs finished another ship?”
He hesitated, and I got a feeling I wasn’t going to like his answer. “No. You’re going to take Ivy’s place. Percival’s decision, not mine.”
“No way,” I said firmly. “I want to do my part, Merlin. Believe me, I do. But I’m not replacing Ivy. She deserves this chance.”
A hand suddenly rested on my shoulder, and I turned, startled to see Pellinore standing behind me. “He won’t go up,” Merlin said.
Pellinore’s face contorted as Ivy approached.
“What’s going on?” she asked, standing next to her father with her arms crossed. Merlin and Pellinore froze.
“Your father was just telling me I’m not going to be able to fly,” I explained. I looked up at Pellinore, eyes narrowed. “Right, sir?”
Pellinore looked pained. “Yes. Congratulations, Ivy.” He gave her a hug like it might be the last time he’d ever see her. When he released her, Ivy quickly wiped a tear from her eye and gave me a smile.
“Are the ships ready?” Pellinore asked, composed again. “And the pilot uniforms?”
Right on cue, Arlo rolled in a rack holding six new pilot jumpsuits, each constructed of millions of thread-thin steel fibers laced together, like stretchable armor. Malcolm, Kwan, Tyler, Ivy, and Darla eagerly grabbed their new uniforms and shiny steel helmets, leaving mine hanging alone.
I rushed over to Darla before she could leave to change. “The helmet,” I whispered. “If you give me the old one, I’ll take out the scenery rig and install it in this new one—”
She cut me off with a shake of her head. “Ben, I don’t need it anymore. All those hours of prototype races yesterday? Halfway through, I took my helmet off, and guess what? I was fine! You helped me more than you could have even imagined.”
“I’m glad,” I said, and I meant it. She grabbed my hand. “Come downstairs and see us off!”
I grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
X-Calibur was parked next to the four prototypes, ready for action. Merlin had come with us, but Pellinore had stayed upstairs in the war room. I think he couldn’t deal with watching Ivy leave for battle. I couldn’t blame him.
Malcolm, Kwan, Tyler, and Darla headed toward their ships, but Ivy paused beside me. I gave Merlin a sideways glare, and he sheepishly turned and walked a few feet away.
“You’ll do amazing up there,” I told Ivy. “I’ve got a front row seat for watching you kick alien butt.”
She suddenly pulled me into a fierce hug. I noticed Merlin looking over his shoulder, watching us. He quickly looked away again.
“I know my father wasn’t going to let me do this,” Ivy whispered in my ear. “Thank you for sticking up for me. You never stop . . . being you, do you?”
I shrugged. “I’m the only me I have.”
She ran off to her ship and gave a final wave. Merlin returned to my side and joined me in waving back. “Godspeed, knights!”
X-Calibur and the four prototypes fired up, and an entire wall of the hangar slid up to reveal an underground runway.
“They’ll exit undetected on the city outskirts,” Merlin explained.
If all went according to plan, the rest of the world would have no knowledge of what was about to occur: the first battle between aliens and humans. As the ships soared into the tunnel and out of sight, I realized I cared about the knights as much as I’d ever cared about anyone. They had become my friends. My stomach was in knots. Would I ever see them again?
38
THE WAR ROOM was crammed wall to wall with every single member of the RTR. Every set of eyes was glued to five large screens that showed our knights rocketing through the sky, ready to engage the enemy. Each knight had a personal screen with their name at the bottom, and their voices came over the war room’s speaker system.
“Talk to me, knights,” Pellinore barked. He had rolled up his sleeves, raring to go. He’d been waiting hundreds of years for this.
“I got one in my sights!” Kwan’s shaky voice exploded over the speakers. Before Pellinore could respond, we all watched as Kwan fired.
I looked to Malcolm’s screen, wondering why he hadn’t fired yet. It showed nothing but gray sky.
“Where’s Malcolm?” I wondered. A split second later, everyone in the sky was firing, aliens and knights alike. The battle had begun. There was so much happening on the screens that it was difficult to keep up.
“I got one!” Ivy crowed. One of the screens zoomed in on an alien ship that had just been damaged, its front end smoking and charred. Everyone in the room cheered.
“Great work, Ivy. But be careful!” Pellinore growled. “And where is Malcolm?!”
“We’ve got him now!” a tech yelled, and we whipped our gazes to Malcolm’s screen. For some reason the ship was flying straight up, away from the action.
“What’s he doing?!” Pellinore roared.
Still no answer.
“I hit one!” Tyler suddenly shouted. There was the sound of an explosion, and both Darla and Ivy also shouted that they’d scored hits. Our screens showed damage on four of the six alien ships, and none of our knights had even been hit once. They really were kicking butt up there!
There were more cheers, but Pellinore, Merlin, and I were focused on X-Calibur as it continued to climb higher.
“Malcolm, do you have c
ontrol of your ship?” Pellinore demanded. “If you can hear me, I expect an answer!”
“It’s me,” Malcolm finally answered. “Trust me, sir. I have a plan.”
I exchanged a confused glance with Merlin as X-Calibur hung in midair for a moment, at least a mile above the others. The front end of the ship dipped down as if in slow motion and then took off, plunging into a nosedive. Malcolm let loose a barrage of weapon fire, and a storm of lasers rained down from X-Calibur’s talon wings. Several of the shots connected with the four previously hit alien ships, and two of them, already paralyzed by their damage, exploded.
Our screens were clouded by views of smoke and alien debris. The only ship of ours that I could still make out up there was Tyler’s. Another alien ship came into view, with pieces of its battered outer casing flapping in the wind. With the casing loose, we saw the meat of the ship: two separate modules, with a thinner point in the middle. Within the smoke and flames roaring out of that middle section were flashes of energy—the nucleus of the ship’s power.
Barrington lit up and moved closer to the screen. “Now we’re talking!” he growled.
Tyler fired at the ship’s middle section, and it was obliterated into virtually nothing.
“YESSS!” Tyler shouted triumphantly, and Barrington pumped his fist so hard that he knocked over a hapless tech.
But the celebration was short-lived.
“I think I’m in trouble,” Malcolm muttered over the speakers. We all looked to X-Calibur’s screen. He was in trouble: The two remaining alien ships were on his tail, bearing down on him. Malcolm kept trying to whip X-Calibur around to face them or find a way to rotate his weapons in their direction, but he couldn’t pull it off. The aliens closed in like wolves.
We watched and waited. The second those aliens decided to fire, he would be toast, unless he found a way to make X-Calibur do something extraordinary. Malcolm Gunn was about to give up his life, and no history book would remember him.