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The Armoured Ghost

Page 3

by Oisin McGann


  The White Knights were the armoured police who enforced the law in Nu-Topia. After the Armouron Knights had disappeared, Earth had collapsed into chaos. Then the White Knights had come along. They were good at their job. There was almost no crime in Nu-Topia.

  ‘It was just a burger from a street stall,’ the girl told them. ‘I was really hungry, so I grabbed it and ran and they came after me. They caught me in this back alley. I think they were going to bag me up and . . . and . . . make me disappear. It’s happened to a bunch of people I know. So, anyway, this old guy was on the street when the White Knights started chasing after me. They caught me in the alley and . . . and I thought I was toast. But suddenly he’s behind them, wearing a scarf round his face. Standing there, armed with nothing but this walking stick, telling them to let me go. They went to grab him as well . . .’

  Her voice drifted off for a moment.

  ‘And?’ Rake asked, loosening the armlock a bit more.

  ‘And he . . . he . . .’ She shrugged. ‘He clobbered them. It took less than a minute. They had swords and stun-guns and armour and he still beat the dunk out of them. Then he just put his finger to his lips, as if he was telling me to keep quiet about it, and he left.’

  ‘Salt beat three White Knights?’ Oddball gaped in disbelief.

  ‘Are you trying to wind us up?’ Rake snorted. ‘Salt? He’s gotta be nearly sixty years old. He’s got a limp. You’re telling us he broke the law, protected a thief and beat up three armoured policemen? And anyway, the White Knights don’t make anyone disappear. If you steal, they put you in prison, that’s all. They’re the good guys.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ she said simply. ‘I’m just telling you what happened. I wanted to know who he was. So I watched him head off and then I followed at a distance. I’m good at that – watching without being seen. I trailed him to the parking garage here, saw him get in through a door in the basement and managed to slip in after him without him noticing. I’ve been hiding here all day.’

  Rake let her go. He wasn’t sure what to make of all this. She rubbed her arm, looking at them with a sheepish expression.

  ‘I figured I might as well try and steal some Gladiator stuff while I was here – maybe hack into the database. Go for any useful info I could find and then get out. Make a bit of money, you know? Some of this stuff is worth a fortune.’

  ‘What’s your name?’ Rake asked.

  ‘Tea-Leaf,’ she said. ‘Or at least, that’s what everyone calls me.’

  ‘Right, well, Tea-Leaf—’ Rake started to say, but she hopped her bum up onto the workbench, kicked him in the chest with both feet, rolled backwards over the top of the bench and jumped off the other side.

  He fell to the floor, gasping for breath. Oddball went after her as she darted out of the door. He was back a moment later, pulling Rake to his feet.

  ‘She’s gone!’ he hissed. ‘And Salt’s coming! Come on, let’s get out of here!’

  But it was too late – they could hear the sound of Salt’s limping footsteps coming down the corridor. There seemed to be someone with him. They looked around desperately for a hiding place, and ended up back behind the same workbench.

  Salt strode in, leaning on a walking stick. Rake’s jaw dropped open as he saw who was with him. It was Snow. The old man was holding her hand, pulling her along behind him. She looked close to tears. Rake clenched his teeth together – she must have tried to come with him after all and had got caught. Salt closed the door behind them. And then they saw him tap a code into the keypad on the wall, locking the door. Their hearts sank. They were trapped.

  Chapter 7

  Deep Down Underground

  THE BOYS WATCHED to see what Salt was going to do with Snow. The old man took his earphone from his ear and put it away in a drawer. Then he went over to a tall rack of tools on the wall. Each tool was held in a set of clips made especially for it. Salt reached for a row of spanners and pulled one out, but it didn’t come all the way off the rack. Instead, he twisted it round in a full circle and pushed it back in. The whole rack swung out from the wall, revealing a hidden doorway. Salt went through it, dragging Snow behind him. The rack slid closed behind them, hardly making a sound.

  ‘Now what?’ Oddball gasped, looking at Rake.

  ‘We have to help her,’ Rake replied. ‘We go in, get her off him, break out of here and tell the Academy bosses what he’s up to.’

  ‘Right.’ Oddball nodded. ‘How are we going to do that?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rake told him. ‘I’m making this up as I go along.’

  They went up to the rack. Rake had to stand on tiptoe to reach the spanner and pull it out. He twisted it round and pushed it back into place. They stepped back as the rack swung out. Then they went through into the space beyond the hidden doorway. The door closed behind them with a quiet thump and they found themselves in complete darkness.

  ‘Aw, dunk,’ Rake muttered.

  A small light came on. Oddball was standing there, a tiny torch-beam shining out of the side of his goggles.

  ‘You’re not allowed to have that kind of stuff in the Academy,’ Rake said. ‘Where’d you get it?’

  ‘I made it,’ Oddball said.

  ‘What for?’

  ‘For walking around in the dark, stupid,’ Oddball replied. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  They were in a corridor, but one unlike anywhere in the Academy complex. The walls were made of stone. They were damp and covered in cobwebs. The two boys came to a set of steps that disappeared far down into the darkness. It took some time to walk down, but near the bottom, they came upon a kind of light that Rake had never seen before. Made of metal and glass, it seemed to have a flame inside it.

  ‘What is it?’ he wondered aloud.

  ‘It’s an oil lamp,’ Oddball told him. ‘The flame burns on a thing called a wick, which is soaked in oil. The glass keeps air from blowing out the flame, and helps spread the light. I didn’t think anybody used these any more. Not in hundreds of years.’

  They went on, and came out into a large room at the bottom.

  As they stepped out of the stairwell, a massive steel door slammed shut behind them, giving them a terrible fright. Now they were trapped down in this cave-like place.

  With their hearts pounding, they gazed around the huge hall they were standing in. It was lit by more of the oil lamps, but was still dark and gloomy. The roof was high and arched, with huge beams supporting it. There was a circle of pillars around the walls and another circle nearer the centre. In the very centre was a round stone table with twelve wooden chairs. A small wooden case sat in the centre of the table.

  All around the room were stands holding suits of armour and weapons. Out to one side, there were even what looked like some small vehicles. But this was not Gladiator equipment. Rake had never seen anything like this before. There were other things too, hidden in shadow. Things neither Rake nor Oddball could identify.

  ‘What is this place?’ Oddball whispered.

  ‘I don’t think this is Gladiator stuff,’ Rake replied softly. ‘Look at the designs of the armour and the weapons. And the markings on the medallion studs. I reckon this is Armouron gear.’

  ‘I think you’re right,’ Oddball muttered, gazing around. He went over to examine one of the suits. ’This is atmosphere armour, for fighting in space. Look at the joints! And that’s an ice gun. They only work in Arctic climates, where everything’s frozen.’

  ‘But how did all this equipment get here?’ Rake wondered aloud. ‘You know, we’re always told the Gladiators rose up to take the place of the Armouron Knights. But sometimes I think the Academy are trying to cover up some of the stories about the Armouron. You can still read about them on the Academy servers – but you really have to know where to look. You see that table, with the pillars round it? That looks like the table the Twelve Nobles sat round – the twelve leaders. But what’s it doing here? The last Armouron Knight disappeared over ten years ago. What’s any of this stuff doing he
re? D’you think Salt stole it? Maybe he’s a thief as well as a cheat. This is . . . is like a whole chunk of history. It should be in a museum or something.’

  ‘This is a museum,’ a voice told them, making them jump again. ‘A secret museum that doesn’t take kindly to intruders.’

  Salt was standing only a few metres away, still holding Snow’s hand. He let her go and she ran over to them. She seemed scared, but was trying hard not to let it show. Salt limped over to them more slowly, stopping before he reached them. He turned to point at the table in the circle of pillars.

  ‘You’re right about the table – and about how the true story of the Armouron is being covered up. This hall was once the home of the Armouron Knights,’ he told them in a sad voice. ‘It was where the Twelve Nobles gathered to meet and plan. But hundreds of knights came here too, from all over the galaxy, for the Council of Peace. This room was once filled with the greatest warriors from a hundred planets.’

  He looked over at the three kids. They stared back at him and then turned their eyes up and looked around at their surroundings. They didn’t know what to make of this. How could this dark and dusty cave be the home of the Armouron? Both boys had heard the legends – or at least the ones taught at the Academy. The knights of Earth had lived in a mighty fortress whose towers reached up into the skies.

  Salt smiled at them, but it wasn’t a very happy smile.

  ‘This was a castle once,’ he said, as if reading their thoughts. ‘The centre of a beautiful city. But that was before it was destroyed by the bombs of the Perfect Corporation. This hall is the core of that fortress, a shelter built deep underground. It is all that remains.

  ‘I’ve been watching all three of you for a while. Don’t look so surprised – I knew you were becoming suspicious about your lives in the Academy. I was sure you would search for answers, and that your search would bring you to me.’

  ‘Why have you been watching us?’ Snow demanded. ‘What’s going on here?’

  ‘I’ll answer all your questions . . . in time. I’m glad you chose not to wear your belts when you set out on your investigations,’ Salt told her. ‘Even the Academy instructors don’t know about this place. And you haven’t seen the half of it. Let me tell you a story. It’s the best way to explain things. And turn off your torch please, Oddball. Disconnect the battery. We do not use any kind of electrical technology down here. It’s too dangerous.’

  ‘What’s going on here?’ Rake demanded. ‘What are you doing down here with all this stuff? Who . . . what are you?’

  ‘What am I?’ Salt chuckled. ‘A fair question, I suppose. But it would be better to ask what I was. You see, years ago, when I put on my armour, I was Claymore, one of the Twelve Nobles. I was an Armouron Knight.’

  Chapter 8

  A Planet of Prisoners

  SALT LED THEM out of the main hall along a wide corridor. The further they got from the hall, the more they could see that there was a maze of tunnels down here. And most of it was in ruins.

  They came to another round chamber, smaller than the great hall, but still very large. In the centre of the floor, a shaft several metres wide disappeared down into the darkness. Looking up, they could see that it had once led up towards the surface too, but was now sealed off with a ceiling of solid rock.

  It was obvious there had been a massive fight here at some time in the past. There were scars in the rock walls, gashes left by atomic blades, burn marks, even blast craters.

  ‘This is where I was when the last battle began,’ Salt told them. ‘There were less than fifty of us left – and only three Nobles. This was where we made our last stand.’

  He faced the three children, but his eyes were looking at something much further away, deep in the past.

  ‘More than ten years ago, the Armouron still kept the peace across the galaxy. We were warriors who acted as diplomats between the planets. We kept the peace, prevented wars. We organized police forces and fought against corrupt or cruel governments. We lived by a simple code: Honour, Duty, Compassion and Justice. But it was becoming difficult to recruit the next generation of knights. Some of the big corporations wanted to take complete control of the worlds they did business on. There was a lot of money to be made if they could rule the planets and make the laws. The Armouron stood in their way.

  ‘One of the biggest was the Perfect Corporation. You all know who the Chairman is, right?’

  ‘Of course,’ Snow said. ‘He’s the boss of Perfect Corp – one of the most powerful men in the galaxy. He runs the Gladiator Games. The Chairman is an absolute genius. He’s the youngest man ever to run a multi-planet corporation.’

  ‘And his sister is the famous Gladiator, Lanista,’ Rake added.

  Rake was studying the old battleground. There were statues all around the rim of the shaft. He recognized them – or at least the few that were still standing. They were sculptures of the First Twelve – the original Armouron Knights. But most of the statues were pitted with blast damage, missing limbs and even heads. Two of the statues had nothing left but their legs, standing on their low plinths.

  ‘The Chairman is everything you say and more,’ Salt agreed. ‘He led the multi-planet corps against the Armouron. He turned the people against the knights by spreading lies about them. The corporations had private armies. They hunted down and killed almost all of the Armouron. Some of the worst fighting happened here on Earth. Only a few knights are left now, scattered around the planets on the edge of the galaxy.’

  ‘That can’t be right,’ Oddball objected. He pointed at the scarred walls of the chamber. ‘Even if the Armouron were destroyed like you say, everyone knew the knights kept the galaxy together. Without them; everything would have fallen apart. And I mean, look at this place – the whole planet would look like this if there had been a huge war. And if Earth was all some big dictatorship now, the Chairman would have to have soldiers all over planet to make everyone obey him.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Salt nodded. ‘But he and his sister are both cruel, calculating and power-hungry. They knew that if people suspected the Perfect Corporation had destroyed the Armouron Knights, there would be chaos. But a lot of the planet is still a battle-scarred wasteland – it’s just that people aren’t allowed to see it. Most of the people living in Nu-Topia were brought here from other planets. They never saw the fighting – they hardly even heard about it.’

  He walked around, running his hands over the walls, pointing out the worst of the damage.

  ‘We made our last stand in this chamber. This used to be where the castle’s power source was housed. The Chairman’s android troops drilled in under us, shut down the power and came up through the shaft here. There were hundreds of them; they were heavily armed and completely fearless machines. We fought them tooth and nail all the way down the corridor, but they eventually forced us into the Council Chamber. We were not easy to beat and we pushed them back. We thought we were winning.

  ‘Then the Chairman’s Flying Fortresses launched their final assault. The androids had only been meant as a distraction. The missiles and bombs completely destroyed our fortress and nearly killed us all along with it.

  ‘Only a tiny group of us survived. We got out by disguising ourselves as damaged androids and stealing one of their earth-drillers. We collapsed the tunnel behind us as we went, to cover up our escape.’

  The three kids listened, trying to imagine the fear, the chaos of the battle and the desperate escape deep underground, not knowing if there was anywhere safe to surface. It was the kind of story that belonged in the mists of legend. It was strange to hear it first-hand from this sour old man.

  ‘Perfect Corp just lied on all the news reports,’ Salt went on. ‘It said the Armouron Knights were heroes who died away fighting old enemies. And then the Chairman created the Gladiators to pretend that the galaxy still had warriors who fought for their people – and he made the White Knights to keep control. It was a clever plan, and now most people believe the Gladiators
and the White Knights took over from the Armouron.’

  He gazed sadly at the ruined statues.

  ‘After I came back, I used my skills as a craftsman to get a job in the Academy’s Armour Department. I’ve spent most of my free time over the last six or seven years fixing up this place. But everything I do has to be done silently, secretly.

  ‘You know that Perfect Corp runs the Academy, and sponsors the Gladiator Games. What you don’t know is that its control doesn’t stop there. The Perfect Corporation owns this entire planet. Tell me, have you ever felt as if you were living inside a prison?’

  All three of the kids nodded. Most cadets, even those who dreamed of being Gladiators, found Academy life hard to bear.

  ‘That’s because it is a prison,’ Salt told them. ‘Everything about that place above us is tightly controlled. The Gladiator Games are a pantomime – a show put on for the people of Earth. Because Earth itself is a huge laboratory, and Nu-Topia is the centre of it. Here, the Perfect Corporation tests its most dangerous products before they are sold across the galaxy.

  ‘Very few people on Earth are even aware of this. The only information they get is the information that Perfect Corp lets them see. When the tests go wrong, they can ruin lives – even kill people. But Perfect Corp doesn’t care.’

  ‘So the Academy is only part of a planet-sized prison?’ Oddball frowned. He believed what he was hearing, but he didn’t want to. ‘And the people of Earth are the prisoners?’

  ‘Everybody lives the way the Chairman tells them to live.’ Salt nodded. ‘Like you, they are all tagged with tracking devices like criminals. They are constantly monitored by cameras and microphones. Nobody can get on or off the planet without clearance from the White Knights, and the White Knights are run by Perfect Corp. The Kettles, we call ’em. If you try to break the rules or refuse to do what you’re told, or if the corporation just has no more use for you . . . then you disappear and you’re never seen again.’

 

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