by Oisin McGann
The three cadets looked at one another. It was as if a fog had lifted. Suddenly, so many things made sense. Life in the Academy was a lot easier to understand once you knew what the place really was.
‘The Games were created to keep everyone distracted from what’s going on around them,’ Snow said quietly. ‘To make them think they still have warriors who will fight for justice. To help keep them deaf and blind to the fact they’re being used as lab rats.’
‘So the competitions aren’t real?’ Rake asked in a small voice. ‘That’s why . . . why we’re never allowed to watch the Gladiators in training.’
‘And why they use fake blood to pretend they’re wounded,’ Snow said.
‘And breakable armour to fake battle damage,’ Oddball grunted.
‘It’s all for show,’ Salt told them. ‘If you eventually become a Gladiator, that’s when you learn the truth. And by then, you’ll be trained to obey every order the bosses give you – and you’ll do it until the day you die. If you obey, you stand a chance of becoming rich and famous. But you will always be under the control of the Chairman. And if you cross him, he can do terrible, terrible things to you.’
Salt turned round, leaning on his walking stick. There was a solemn, searching look on his face.
‘Come with me,’ he said.
They followed him back along the corridor and out into the Council Chamber, to the round stone table.
‘I am one of the few Twelve Nobles still alive,’ Salt rumbled. ‘As a Master Craftsman, I am responsible for designing and making new armour – a role that also includes crafting new recruits into trained warriors. I came back here, because this is my home planet. Making Gladiator armour is just a front for me – a cover story. Hardly anybody knows who I really am. I want to break this prison wide open and free the people who live in it. I want to bring down the Perfect Corporation. But it will be a long hard fight and I am old. I don’t have the strength I once did. I can’t do it alone. We need a new generation of knights. Young warriors we can train in the old ways.
‘You are all here because you are brave and hungry for the truth. Do you want to fight for a better world? I can teach you the ways of the knights, but it will take a strong spirit to keep to the code: Honour, Duty, Compassion and Justice. It is not an easy way to live. It could get you killed. But it offers a great and honourable life. So how about it, my young warriors – will you join the Armouron?’
There was a long, long silence while Rake, Snow and Oddball looked at one another. Was this old man everything he said he was, or could he just be a madman on some insane quest? If they joined him, they would be breaking Academy rules. They would even be breaking the laws of the Perfect Corporation. If they were caught, it would be the end of the only life they knew.
But deep down, they each believed that Salt was speaking the truth. And out of all the cadets he had watched over the years, he had chosen them to join him in his fight. They wanted to do something about the prison they were living in – to fight for a better world. And to do it while wearing the armour of an Armouron Knight! There could be no greater honour. One by one, the three young cadets stepped forward. One by one, they said yes. Salt looked at them and saw there was no doubt in their eyes. These were the right ones.
‘Then you will be the first,’ he said. ‘I’d like each of you to choose one of these.’
Opening the case on the table, he showed them five small metal discs that were set into the lining. Each had a coloured design etched into it. Rake reached for the first one in the line, but then paused. He brushed his fingers across it, moved to the second one, and then the third. This one seemed to glow with a faint light of its own. As he touched it, he let out a gasp. He felt a surge of energy flow through his body. He picked it up, looking at it with awe.
Oddball and Snow came forward. They each chose one of the medallions. They obviously felt the strange sensation too, flinching as they took their discs.
‘These are power totems,’ Salt told them. ‘What you’re feeling is what we call “the Flow”. It means the totem has accepted you. It has called to you, and its energy will only work through you – no one else – until you die, or you choose to pass it on to another. It is a powerful force and you must learn to use it. There are many types of totem, but only twelve of these were originally passed down from the First Knights. Each of the Twelve Nobles carried a power totem. Only the finest warriors could be given one. The totems are given power by each knight who passes them on – and they are priceless. A few are still held by knights on the outer-edge planets. Some have been lost. These are yours – you must use them well. They will enhance your senses, your strength, agility and other talents. You will heal faster.
‘They will also enable you to train for hours longer before you become tired. You must continue living your normal lives. I’ll arrange to have all of you come to work in my department. We will train at night, while the Academy sleeps.
‘I’ll design a suit of armour for each of you too. Real Armouron suits, not the clacky rubbish I have to make for the Gladiators. The totem will be mounted in your armour and will act through it. Remember, a totem only works for the warrior it chooses. You may have come looking for me, but I have been looking for you for much, much longer. And there are two more of you still to be found, before the group is complete.
‘I’m hoping one of them will be Stamper. He’s one of the most gifted athletes I’ve seen in a long time. A natural leader.’
Rake looked at the others, trying to hide his disgust. Salt took a deep breath. Snow smiled at him, sensing his feelings. The old man could not have been certain they would accept his offer – or if the medallions would accept them. They could report him to the Academy. This was a huge risk for him.
‘You stand together, you battle as one,’ Salt said to them. ‘Now, let’s get you out of here and back to your dorms. Leave the totems here. Tomorrow, I’ll have you all transferred to work in the Armour Department. You’ll be moved to quarters near my workshop. We start training tomorrow night. And believe me, you’re going to need your sleep.’
Chapter 9
Don’t Make a Fuss
HOAX WANTED TO know where Rake had been for most of the night. They lived in the same dorm, along with six other boys. Hoax had been unable to sleep, waiting for his friend to come back. And Rake wanted to tell him, but Salt had sworn them all to secrecy.
‘Fine, be like that,’ Hoax told him, looking off in another direction. ‘I’ll be getting out of here soon anyway. While you were gone, some of us were picked to go to a Gladiator school on Mars where they feed you chocolate that gives you super-strength and you train against aliens that explode when you hit them.’
‘Yeah, good luck with that,’ Rake snorted.
His brain was full of a screaming rush of emotions. For as long as he could remember, he had dreamed of being a Gladiator. It had hurt him deeply to learn that the Games, the Academy and the Arena were all just a massive lie. But perhaps, part of him had always suspected it. He wanted to share all of this with his friend. But he couldn’t, without telling Hoax about Salt too.
Rake, Snow and Oddball were moved to Salt’s department, where they would work from now on. They were moved out of their dorms too, transferred to cadet quarters in the Armour Department.
That first night, they sneaked down to the Salt’s workshop, and from there to the underground complex – the Old School, as Salt called it. The three young cadets were tense with nervousness. Salt did not help. His face was as hard as stone. Taking them to a large room off the main chamber, he made them line up and stared at them for a long time. He handed each of them a soft belt with a knot on the front that held their medallions. As they felt the Flow wash away the tiredness of the day, he spoke to them in a harsh voice:
‘This will be different from what you are used to in the Academy,’ he told them. ‘There will be no flashing lights on your weapons, no computer measuring devices. No robotic simulators or holograms. We will t
rain by the light of oil lamps, with simple equipment made from wood and metal and plastic. No electrical power is allowed in the Old School.
‘Now, I want to see you jump – knees to your stomach twenty times. Go!’
The cadets did the exercise quickly and easily – it was a standard one in the Academy. But then Salt gave them each a backpack full of weights and had them do the jumps again . . . and again . . . and again. Each time he added a little more weight to their packs. After another half an hour of gruelling exercises and some eye-watering stretches, he started teaching them some moves.
That night, they trained with their fists and their feet. After that had them worn out, they learned some new throws. They discovered that the mats on the floor weren’t very soft. They weren’t given any pads or gloves to wear. Then they trained with sticks. They weren’t padded either. It was becoming clear to them that dealing with pain and exhaustion was a daily part of training to be an Armouron Knight.
And so it went on. By day, they did their normal jobs and their Gladiator training. By night, the three cadets sneaked down to the Old School. Here, they were pushed to their very limits with physical exercises, stretching and endurance training. Salt showed them armed and unarmed moves they had never seen before. They repeated each one until they could do it in their sleep.
Even with the power totems worn on their belts, it was almost more than they could take. When they were too tired to do any more, Salt told them stories, taught them history, geography, astronomy and other subjects they had never learned.
After two weeks, Rake was just starting to get used to the routine, but it was still gruelling. And it was getting harder and harder to keep it all secret. He was already fitter and tougher than he had ever been. He knew so much that he wasn’t supposed to know.
Sitting out on the roof one day with Hoax, Rake stared at the city, wishing he could tell his friend all about it. It had been difficult to talk to him recently, because there were so many things he couldn’t talk about. But today, it turned out, Hoax had something to tell him instead.
‘I think you’re right,’ his friend said. ‘You know how you were saying a while back that there’s something dodgy about the Games? Well, Mad Jack was in the Costume Department today. He was being kitted out because he’s going on a talk show. And you know who came in to see him? The Chairman himself. There were some White Knights with him as bodyguards, and they told everyone else to leave. They didn’t see me ’cos I was scrubbing out the bottom of one of the wardrobes, so I just kept my head down and stayed there to listen in.’
Hoax leaned in close to Rake, talking in an excited, slightly scared voice.
‘The Chairman says to Mad Jack: “You’re going to lose the fight on Saturday, Jack. Don’t make a fuss about it.”’
Hoax looked at Rake, waiting for a reaction.
‘Don’t you get it?’ Hoax said impatiently. ‘I’m not lying about this. The boss was telling a Gladiator to lose a fight! They’re cheating! And I don’t think Jack was too happy about it. He kept saying that it was “his turn to be champion this year”. When he wouldn’t stop arguing, the Chairman just gave him this hard look and said: “Lose the fight, Jack, or lose everything. Do you understand?”’
Rake was gritting his teeth. A few weeks ago, he would just have thought that Hoax was lying again. Now, he knew the truth. He was dying to tell Hoax about Salt and the Games and everything else. But he kept quiet. And he was worried – they couldn’t do anything to make the instructors suspicious.
‘Yeah,’ he said at last. ‘Sounds weird all right. I wouldn’t talk about it too much, though, Hoax. You could get in trouble.’
‘Trouble?’ Hoax snapped at him. ‘We work like slaves and get battered every day so we can become Gladiators. Now I find out the whole competition might be rigged – and you talk about getting into trouble? What’s wrong with you? I’m going to break out of here tonight. And I’m going to tell the world outside what’s going on. People need to know they’re being fooled.’
‘Come on, Hoax, take it easy,’ Rake said, sure that his friend wasn’t being serious. ‘These guys control everything, there’s no fighting them. Let it go, all right?’
‘If you’re not going to help, you can go and rot,’ Hoax snarled. ‘I’m leaving tonight after midnight. If you’ve got the guts to come with me, I’ll see you then.’
With that, he stormed off, leaving his best friend to stare out at the city, doing nothing. Rake knew Hoax too well. His friend lived in a fantasy world – but he wasn’t about to try and escape from the only life he’d ever known.
Chapter 10
Oddball’s Phone Call
IT WAS SATURDAY night. Games Night. There were three matches on in the Arena. The main fight was the rematch between Mad Jack and Stamper.
Rake, Snow, Hoax and Oddball headed towards the canteen for dinner. They had just finished training in the chariot simulator. They passed Stamper on the way to the canteen. He was standing in the corridor talking quietly to Salt. The young Gladiator was smiling and picking at his teeth. His earphone rang and he held up a hand to the old man, turning away from him to take the call.
‘Please tell me Salt isn’t taking him on,’ Rake whispered to Snow. ‘I’ll chew my own foot off if he joins up.’
‘I think Stamper would probably enjoy that,’ Snow said.
Stamper was enjoying being a star, and was as cocky as ever. He came in after they sat down with their trays of food. Carrying out his duty as assistant instructor, Stamper walked around the canteen, making sure the cadets ate their greens – whatever the greens were. In a sneaky move, his elbow caught Rake across the back of the head as he went past. Rake winced but did nothing, letting out a quiet growl and trying to act like it didn’t hurt. Hoax made a rude sign at Stamper’s back.
Snow, who was sitting opposite him, fixed her eyes on Stamper, an intense, hateful look on her face. The others were still staring after the bully, but Rake was watching Snow. Her tray started to shake, even though her hands weren’t touching it and the table wasn’t moving. The tray began to rattle against the tabletop. She looked down at it, as if noticing for the first time, and it went still. Rake gaped at her, but she just started to eat again, as if nothing had happened. None of the others had seen anything. Rake gave her another glance, but kept quiet.
Oddball smiled at Stamper’s back. He drew an earphone from his pocket and slipped it into his ear.
‘I’ve had enough of Mister Big Star,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve been dying for an excuse to use this. Watch.’
He spoke a quiet command into the earphone. A little robot on wheels rolled silently out from under the table and scooted after Stamper, happily waving its little arms. As it drew up behind him, Oddball pressed a button on the earphone. The sound of a tacky ring-tone tune beeped out from the little robot. Stamper looked round. The robot exploded, making him jump into the air in fright. The young Gladiator spun round, losing his balance, and slipped on the remains of the robot. He fell over a bench and onto a table covered in food trays. It all collapsed under him with a crash.
Snow slapped a hand over her mouth to cover her giggles. Most of the other cadets in the canteen had to do the same. Rake actually had to bite his sleeve. Oddball quickly hid the earphone from sight and started munching on one of the tasteless crackers.
‘Who did that?!’ Stamper roared, as he wiped food from his face and hair. ‘I’ll find out who did that and they’ll be eating floor tiles for the next month of training. You got me? Own up, you rumps! Who was it?’
Nobody else knew who it was and Oddball and his friends weren’t about to say anything. Stamper glared around the canteen, but he was out of luck. Rake saw Salt standing near the door on the opposite side of the canteen, watching what was going on. But he didn’t step in to help Stamper.
Everybody was talking about the prank as they finished their dinners and left the canteen. Rake, Snow, Oddball and Hoax were careful not to, until there was nobody else around
them and Oddball had dumped his remote control. They still had an hour’s training to go in the hologram room. Finally, they were alone in the corridor on the way to the holo-room.
‘That was brilliant,’ Rake said. ‘You’re a genius.’
‘Thanks,’ Oddball replied. ‘It was just a bit of fun, really. It’s amazing what you can do with just junk – two old instructors’ earphones and some spare machine parts. I love blowing stuff up.’
‘Pity you had to blow up that cute little robot,’ Snow said to him. ‘But I’d give a month of dinners to see that look on Stamper’s face again. He’s going to be a complete demon in training now, though. Rake, don’t go volunteering for anything, OK?’
‘I don’t have training today,’ Hoax told them. ‘I have some work to finish off. We’re making a jacket for the Princess of Jupiter’s pet dinosaur.’
‘Jupiter doesn’t have any princesses or dinosaurs,’ Snow pointed out. ‘The whole planet’s made of gas.’
‘Right,’ Hoax muttered, as he walked off down a different corridor. ‘Well, maybe I’m just scrubbing the wardrobe floors then. Meet you for the Games when I’m done, yeah?’
The cadets were normally allowed to watch the Games from the windows of one of the empty changing rooms. They got to stay up late too, because the fights were on past lights-out in the Academy. There was the usual Saturday rumble of excitement in the huge complex as the spectators started to arrive. Singers and dancers put on a show while the crowd waited for the competition to begin.
But tonight, Rake was happy to miss the fights. Careful to avoid Hoax and the other cadets, he joined Salt, Oddball and Snow down in the Old School. There, they got on with their Armouron training. It was still a bit strange for them, after life in the Academy. No electric light, no simulators or holograms or robotic opponents. They were forbidden to bring any kind of technology down there – even an earphone or a torch.