The Infinity Engines Books 1-3

by Andrew Hastie

Josh looked up at the dragon. ‘And if he does?’

  ‘I have a Draconian birthright, I just need to persuade him to uphold it.’

  ‘And what about me?’

  ‘Well,’ she said, standing up and drying her hand on her skirt, ‘there are two possibilities: one is that as a member of the guild I could sponsor you.’

  ‘And the other?’

  She looked at him with a straight face and said: ‘We get married.’

  31

  Draconian Trials

  [Ascension Island. Date: 11.927]

  Sitting outside the Draconian Grandmaster’s quarters, Josh was still contemplating which option he preferred. Caitlin had been inside for over an hour now, and from the sound of the raised voices, she hadn’t completely lost her stubborn streak or her temper.

  The Draconian headquarters appeared to be housed in a vast lighthouse on an island somewhere in the middle of the ocean. The view through the long narrow windows showed nothing but sea in every direction.

  Caitlin used the dragon sculpture to transport them directly to the headquarters from the Moon Garden. It was a way-marker linked to their base, which doubled up as the Dreadnought garrison. The moment they appeared they’d been immediately surrounded by a detachment of heavily armoured guards. Josh was convinced they would’ve been killed if it hadn’t been for Caitlin knowing the watchword and demanding to be taken to the Grandmaster’s office.

  Josh was instructed to wait outside. He spent a while wandering around, admiring the old ceremonial uniforms of the previous Grandmasters which were displayed in cases around the curved outer wall. The names of the masters were beautifully etched into the glass, and there was a quirky mix of styles — reflecting their personalities and the times they lived in. Some of them looked like they could stop a bullet: heavily armoured chest-plates emerged from courtly robes, while others would have looked at home on the set of Batman, Assassin’s Creed or at the court of King Arthur. Then there were simple academic robes — less superhero, more stately. The Draconians definitely had a fascinating history if their past-masters’ uniforms were anything to go by.

  An hour later Caitlin came storming out after another tirade of shouting, traces of tears still streaking her face. Josh wanted to comfort her, but he could see from the steely glint in her eyes that she didn’t want his pity. She strode down the hall without waiting for him; he guessed that was his cue to follow.

  ‘So we’re getting married?’ Josh joked, trying to lighten the mood.

  ‘No,’ she growled through clenched teeth. ‘My godfather has forbidden it.’

  ‘Didn’t he let you in?’

  She wheeled around on her heels and shouted loud enough for Derado to hear through the still open door. ‘No. Apparently GIRLS AREN’T SUITABLE FOR THE DEFENCE SQUADRON! It’s like we’re trapped back IN THE DARK AGES!’

  Josh flinched at the power of her voice as it echoed off the walls.

  She turned and stormed out. He thought about going in to see Master Derado himself, but he decided it was wiser to stick with Caitlin.

  He caught up with her. ‘So what do we do now?’

  Caitlin’s temper was cooling. ‘My parents had many friends within the Guild, and not everyone is so backward. Uncle Temperus will do anything for me.’

  ‘Won’t the master block him now he knows you want to join?’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ She pulled out her tachyon. ‘This conversation never happened,’ she said with a half-smile, grabbing his hand as the corridor began to vibrate and then disappeared.

  32

  Induction

  [Bavaria. Date: 11.457]

  Vassili Temperus was more than happy to welcome Caitlin onto the trials — evidently he was one of her grandfather’s closest friends. By the time he had stopped crying and hugging her, there was no question of refusal. However, he did insist on giving her a pseudonym: Lisichka, which, he explained in his thick Slavic accent, meant ‘Little Fox’ in Russian — just in case her godfather happened to browse the names of the latest recruits. If she graduated, Derado would have no choice but to accept her under Draconian law.

  He reminded Josh a lot of the colonel, a larger-than-life character who bore all the scars, both physical and mental, of an experienced soldier. Vassili had been the drill sergeant for the Draconians for as long as anyone could remember, Caitlin explained on their way to the academy, and was responsible for all training and evaluation, but was happiest teaching combat on the proving ground.

  The Draconian Academy was located in a Bavarian Castle somewhere in the fifteenth-century. It was an austere, turreted fortress set deep in a pine forest between two mountains. The dormitory wing housed a hundred and forty-four candidates, grouped into teams of twelve. They would eat, sleep and fight together for the next twelve weeks. Josh wasn’t sure what the significance of the number was, and was just happy to be on the same team as Caitlin — Aries226.

  The other members of Aries were a mixed bunch. As they argued over who got which bunk in the dormitory, Josh could tell they were going to be difficult. It reminded him of the first day on community service. There were the alpha’s — the ones who immediately tried to take control, who had an innate ability to pick out the weaker kids and own them. One larger, awkward-looking boy with bright red hair was getting the treatment from a tall, dark-haired lad who was determined to take the top bunk.

  ‘Sorry, red, I don’t think they’re built to take your weight.’

  Some of the others laughed. The ginger boy’s face flushed.

  ‘Think you better get off there before you break it!’

  Josh hated bullies, and he’d spent most of his life trying to rid himself of one. As far back as he could remember, Lenin had always told him what to do. Ever since junior school he’d been there bossing him around. Josh had spent years trying to figure what it was that had let him be so dominated, what flaw in his character allowed someone like Lenin to take control. “Some people are natural leaders, others were born to follow,” was one of his favourite sayings.

  Red was struggling to get off the bunk. The dark-haired kid was still taunting him, and a couple of others had joined in:

  ‘OFF, OFF, OFF!’

  Caitlin glared at Josh as if to say: ‘don’t get involved,’ but Josh couldn’t help himself. He moved between the bunk and the small crowd.

  ‘And who do we have here?’ said the dark-haired boy squaring up to Josh. They were virtually the same height and build.

  ‘Leave the kid alone,’ Josh said, looking straight into the boy’s eyes.

  The boy held his ground, his eyes flickering between Josh and the ginger kid as he tried to assess his next move.

  ‘And who the hell are you? Yet another Blue Falcon I bet.’ He laughed, and the small gang that had gathered behind him joined in.

  Josh had been challenged like this many times, it was always about resolving the pecking order. He knew from bitter experience that the quickest way to address it was to take the alpha down; go in fast and hard before he had time to work out what had happened. He felt his fists clench and his heart beat a little quicker as he prepared himself.

  ‘There will be no Blue Falcons in my troop,’ declared a woman’s voice from the back of the room.

  She was a tall, pale-skinned woman, with white hair and purple eyes. The name on the front of her uniform spelt ‘VEDRIS’, and the insignia on her shoulders marked her as an officer.

  Everyone looked mystified as to how she came to be standing where no one had been a moment before.

  ‘My name is Corporal Vedris. You will refer to me as your Majesty, or Ma’am, for short. I am your training instructor, dorm officer and general ass-kicker for the next twelve weeks.’

  Her voice carried strong undertones of command, and unspoken threats lingered beneath her words.

  ‘Now line up. I want to see what a miserable bunch of rejects you truly are.’

  It wasn’t an order she had to give twice.

 
They formed an awkward line, shuffling and elbowing each other until they had got into a semblance of a straight line.

  The red-haired boy insisted on being next to Josh, forcing Caitlin to take a step back and stand one place removed.

  Corporal Vedris took her time studying each of them. She held a clipboard with their names and details floating around in complex equations on the page. There were candidates from every guild: Scriptorians, Antiquarians, even a seer — a pale-looking boy with scruffy hair called Michaelmas.

  When Vedris came to Caitlin, she paused and checked her notes twice. Josh held his breath, wondering if somehow Master Derado had already vetoed the application.

  ‘Li-sich-ka?’ Vedris read out slowly. ‘Unusual name?’

  ‘Russian,’ Caitlin replied.

  The corporal scrutinised Caitlin’s face, twisting her head slightly as though looking for something. ‘You remind me of someone. Do you have other family members in the guild?’

  ‘No, Ma’am. I will be the first,’ Caitlin lied.

  Vedris looked unconvinced but moved on all the same.

  Red, whose real name was Bentley, came next. It turned out he was the son of a famous Antiquarian engineer that Josh had never heard of. His dad had apparently developed a material called ‘Voltaic Flux,’ which meant nothing either, but the Corporal seemed genuinely impressed.

  ‘Jones,’ she said, with the all-too-familiar overtones of a headmaster calling him into his office. ‘You appear to be something of an enigma, Jones,’ she remarked, studying his chart. ‘When exactly do you hail from?’

  ‘The present,’ Josh replied.

  There were a few sharp intakes of breath. Apparently, there weren’t many who’d come from that close to the frontier. He didn’t want to go into too much detail, and especially wanted to avoid all the superstitious crap about being the Paradox or Nemesis — he wanted to be normal, like everyone else.

  ‘Interesting,’ Vedris noted thoughtfully, studying him closely with her indigo eyes. ‘You’ve stated here that you’re a journeyman of the watch — who were you training under?’

  Josh caught himself before he mentioned the colonel, picking the next name he could think of.

  ‘Methuselah. Methuselah De Freis.’

  Vedris’ eyes narrowed slightly. ‘How goes Alixia’s restoration of the extinct?’

  Josh couldn’t tell if this was just a polite query or a test. ‘Her Dodo, Maximillian, has this crazy thing for fish.’

  Vedris held his gaze for what seemed an uncomfortably long time before moving on.

  The bully that Josh squared up to turned out to be called Darkling, the son of a Draconian Commander. Vedris treated him with the same level of contempt she showed to the others — she wanted to make it clear that no one was going to get an easy ride under her command.

  ‘Right,’ she barked loudly after completing her inspection. ‘You’ve each been designated a locker,’ — she pointed over to a wall of tall wooden cabinets — ‘in which you will find your training fatigues. I expect you to be changed and on the quad in five.’

  With that Corporal Vedris turned and disappeared into thin air.

  The changing of their clothes made for an interesting diversion. There was no privacy in the dorm room, so Caitlin turned her back to Josh, trying her best to maintain some dignity. Most of the boys, however, stripped down without a second thought. Josh — trying not to stare at Caitlin’s peach of a bottom — watched Darkling as he pulled on his uniform. The guy was ripped, and would’ve been quite a handful if they had actually got into a fight.

  There were two other boys that had already gravitated into Darkling’s circle. Both had newly shaved heads and keen, steely eyes. They were obviously brothers, twins by the look of them, and were taking this induction very seriously.

  Bentley started getting changed next to Josh, who tried not to stare at the folds of white fat that wobbled as the overweight boy struggled to get into his uniform. It didn’t go well, as Bentley rushed to pull on his trousers he lost his balance, fell against Josh and ended up on the floor with his arse sticking out like two white balloons. The laughter from the others made every one of Bentley’s cheeks burn.

  Josh helped him up.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Take your time, this stuff doesn’t want to be worn,’ Josh said, pulling the last strap tight on his jacket.

  A set of doors opened in the far wall. Josh couldn’t be sure that they’d even been there five minutes ago. A long corridor stretched out before them and they could see other squads already hurrying down it.

  ‘Hurry up, fatty,’ said Darkling, jogging out of the room. ‘Don’t want to be the Blue Falcon do we?’

  The other’s followed, and Josh caught Caitlin’s eye as he waited for Bentley to get his last boot on. She looked quite cute in her uniform. As she tied her hair back, she reminded him slightly of the more severe version he had met in the ministry.

  ‘What the hell is a Blue Falcon anyway?’ he asked.

  Caitlin smiled. ‘It’s code, Bravo Foxtrot, someone who lets the team down — A Buddy Failure.’

  Josh was sure the ‘F’ stood for something cruder, and that the old Caitlin would have used it.

  Marching behind the others, Josh’s training fatigues felt stiff and itchy. They were made from a waxed canvas material that felt indestructible and refused to bend to the needs of his joints.

  ‘They take a few days to wear in,’ Caitlin warned. ‘My father used to say it was best to sleep in new fatigues.’

  They walked out into the central courtyard of the castle. The sound of a hundred and forty-four excited candidates all talking at once was deafening. Their voices were amplified by the stone walls which stretched high up into a bright blue sky. Josh thought he caught a scent of the sea and the breeze that swept eddies of dust across the training ground was warm.

  ‘Did we shift,’ he asked Caitlin. ‘I didn’t feel it.’

  She was studying the sky. ‘Draconian engineering is subtle. We’ve definitely moved geographically. Smells more equatorial to me.’

  In the centre of the courtyard was a raised stone dais that looked like it had once been a well which had a wooden platform built over it. Drill Sergeant Vassili was standing on it watching the last of the new recruits filter into the back of the crowd with a look of pure disdain.

  ‘Silence,’ he shouted, his voice echoing across the square.

  Josh noticed that Vassili leaned heavily on his staff. There was a subtle shift of weight onto his other leg when he brought the end of the stick down onto the wooden stage, and a resounding boom echoed from the well chamber beneath his feet.

  Everyone stopped talking, all heads and ears craning to hear what he had to say.

  ‘My name is Vassili Temperus. I am the master of instruction for the Worshipful Company of Draconii. You will refer to me as Master Vassili.’

  He lifted the staff slowly, rotating on his good leg to point at the upturned faces around him. ‘Today is the last day of your life. Who you were and what you knew is of no consequence to me — you are nought but clay. I will unmake you, discover your hidden truths and deepest fears until I find the steel within.’ As he uttered the word ‘steel,’ he twisted the staff and it transformed into a long shining broadsword.

  ‘Most of you will fail. A Draconian does not go lightly into the breach, as ours is the fate of the damned — we cannot falter.’

  Josh had heard more than his fair share of this kind of speech, old men trying to tell him how they were going to make him a better person, or worse, how it had been so much harder in their day. He looked sideways to Caitlin, but he couldn’t catch her attention. He thought she was too absorbed in Vassili’s sermon, until he followed her gaze and found that it wasn’t Vassili she was fascinated by, but the dark, scowling face of Dalton staring directly towards them from the other side of the yard.

  ‘Over the next twelve weeks we will test your ardour, stamina and most importantly your mettle. In the fi
rst quarter you will be judged as a team, and at the end of this the lowest scoring two will be cut.’ Vassili sliced the air with his sword.

  ‘So it will continue over the next two quarters as the missions become more challenging. Finally, in the last quartile we will judge each of you on your individual merits — only twelve of you will be selected.’

  Josh looked around the training ground. One-in-twelve weren’t the worst odds he’d ever had, but they were pretty close.

  ‘Now, to the first test.’ Vassili’s tone changed as he brought the sword back down and it became a staff once more. ‘As the more astute of you will have noticed we’re no longer in Germany. We are currently standing in the Alcazaba of Málaga, a Spanish sea fort on the southern borders of Castile. Each team has been given a key — your first vestige. There are ten secrets within this castle and they lead you to the location of the Crown of Castile — there are extra merits for the team who return with four or more artefacts.’ He held up four fingers, and his index finger was shorter than the other three. ‘I won’t necessarily be in the same timeframe as you, so you may have to improvise. This is an essential quality for a Draconian.’

  With that Vassili shimmered and disappeared.

  As the teams grouped together, Josh watched Dalton closely. He was part of a strong team and they were already looking to him for leadership. Caitlin turned towards Josh and produced the key from her pocket.

  She turned the old iron object over in her hand. ‘Looks like I’m the Keymaster.’

  33

  Castillian Queen

  Darkling took the key out of Caitlin’s hands and inspected it carefully. She tried to get it back, but he held it just out of her reach. While he was showing off, the other teams were quickly disappearing.