Malig Tumora

by James Moloney

  It didn’t. As soon as he let go, the steel tongue pushed its way free. He tried again, with the same result, and this time it made a clicking sound.

  Horrified, Berrin looked up, expecting to find angry Dfx staring at him. But they were too busy watching Aden fend off Malig Tumora.

  What could he do? The spring behind the steel tongue was too strong for the tape. How could he hold it back? He searched frantically around him. Old clothes wouldn’t help. Sand was useless. Wait, what was that? A tiny gleam of reflected sunlight caught his eye.

  He bent down and felt into the sand. His fingers found something hard. A spoon, he discovered when he pulled it free. The Dfx must have dropped it ages ago. Turning the spoon handle towards the lock, he jammed it in as hard as he could. It stayed there, holding back the tongue. But now he had a new problem. The rest of the spoon was sticking out from the end of the door. It would never close with the spoon protruding like that, and besides, the Dfx would spot it easily.

  ‘You!’ one of them called suddenly. ‘Away from door.’

  All three Dfx turned to see what Berrin was up to. Just in time, he managed to place his body in the way, so they couldn’t see the spoon. He reached back with his hand and began to work it from one side to the other. Just as a Dfx reached him, ready to jerk him away roughly from the door, the shaft snapped, leaving him with one end of the spoon hidden in his hand. The rest remained jammed into the lock, just enough to hold back the tongue, but not enough to be seen.

  AS SOON AS THE DFX had left, the three prisoners set to work making human shapes under the blankets. Using some of the discarded clothing, they even managed to make what looked like hairy heads poking a few centimetres out from the end.

  Then it was time to go … if they could. There was no sound outside in the street. They gathered anxiously at the door. Berrin pressed his hand against it, too gently to move it at first. He pushed harder, hesitated, then with a glance towards the other two pushed again.

  The door moved.

  Moments later, they were out in the street.

  ‘This way,’ Malig Tumora pointed. ‘It’s daytime but there will still be patrols. And traps,’ he added ominously. Berrin’s excitement at their early success was swept away by fear of what lay ahead.

  They hurried along the deserted streets, jumping occasionally when an unseen animal roared or thrashed angrily in its prison. They were in Malig Tumora’s hands now. There was no choice but to trust him and that was what made Berrin most uncomfortable of all.

  The scientist led them around the next corner, then stopped suddenly.

  ‘What is it?’ Berrin asked. The road surface was particularly sandy ahead, but he couldn’t see any danger.

  ‘I think this is the street. Yes, there’s the chain,’ Malig Tumora muttered to himself.

  Berrin searched more closely and soon spotted a few links of a chain dangling into the dust from a ring secured to the wall. He still didn’t see anything to worry about.

  Aden hadn’t heard the warning note in Malig Tumora’s voice. He strode past his companions, unaware of any danger until a powerful arm grabbed him roughly by the elbow and pulled him back.

  ‘See that line on the pavement?’ Malig Tumora snapped. The boys looked ahead and saw a faint mark drawn in a wide arc. ‘Cross that and you’re dead.’

  ‘But how? I can’t see anything,’ Aden complained. Then he remembered the eagle above the maze and looked up in fright. But no, there was nothing to see in the sky either.

  ‘Watch,’ Malig Tumora said with a sneer.

  A bone lay in the dust beside them. He gave it a kick with the toe of his shoe. It shot across the line and instantly the surface of the street before them erupted. An enormous snake emerged from its hiding place beneath the sand and lunged straight at them. There was no time to back away. Not even time to scream. They would certainly have been snatched up in its powerful jaws if not for the chain which suddenly rose up out of the same sand and went taut with a snap. The snake was yanked to a halt, but its long body lashed like a whip, still trying to get at them. Its head reached precisely to the mark on the pavement.

  FOURTEEN

  Inside the Obsidian

  ‘WE’LL HAVE TO GO ANOTHER WAY,’ Aden shouted over the snake’s furious hissing.

  ‘This is the only way to the Obsidian,’ Malig Tumora insisted. ‘Follow closely behind me and watch you don’t cross that line.’

  He led them to the wall on their right and, with his back pressed firmly against it, began to slide along it. Berrin noticed that the faded line swept gradually towards that same wall, but sand thrown up by the snake stopped him from seeing how close it came.

  Malig Tumora did not seem afraid. If this was a trick, it was a poor one, because he would be the first to die. Berrin remembered when the Dfx had brought him along these streets blindfolded. The observation ball had warned them about a line. This must be it. Cautiously, he pressed his back against the wall and followed Malig Tumora. Aden brought up the rear.

  The snake strained and hissed, stretching its body as far as it could. When they drew level with the ring that held its chain on the opposite wall, the hideous head of the snake was less than a metre away from them. But it was enough. They were through, and without a glance backwards, began running to make up for lost time.

  ‘He saved me,’ Aden whispered to Berrin. ‘If he hadn’t pulled me back, I would have stepped across that line and —’ He didn’t have to finish. ‘At least we know we can trust him now. I was afraid he’d kill us once we’d helped him out of the enclosure.’

  ‘Me too,’ Berrin admitted, but unlike Aden, he was not ready to believe that Malig Tumora wouldn’t do just that, as soon as it suited him.

  More running, more turns. They heard a commotion up ahead and ducked back the way they had come. The boys heard a familiar bark. ‘A pig-dog,’ said Aden, glaring at Malig Tumora.

  ‘And from the sound of things, the stupid Dfx have let it escape,’ Malig Tumora snarled.

  Berrin couldn’t hold back a smile. ‘It’s like being in the maze again,’ he said, ‘only this time you’re with us.’

  This comment earned an angry grunt.

  They ran on, avoiding the Dfx and the pig-dog until at last they reached the heavy main gates. Looming behind them was the brooding, black building.

  ‘How do we get out?’ Berrin asked, but Malig Tumora was already on the move.

  ‘There’s a switch only I know of, but listen — I’ll have to close the gates again or it will give the game away. There won’t be much time. As soon you two are through, I’ll set them to close and run through after you.’

  The two boys waited by the gates while Malig Tumora went off to activate the hidden switch. Twenty seconds passed, thirty. ‘What’s that?’ asked Aden suddenly.

  Berrin didn’t need to reply. They both knew it was the barking of the pig-dog and it was coming closer.

  Still they waited. The barking grew louder. Then the horrible creature was there at the end of the street, coming towards them, a lead trailing uselessly from its neck. The boys were, indeed, back in the maze. They turned away from the gates and started to run.

  ‘They’re opening,’ Aden cried after only a few paces.

  Yes, the gates had begun to move, but it was too late. The pig-dog was closer to the widening gap than they were, and it was just as determined to escape. When it came to a choice — gore the hated humans or bolt to freedom — it chose the latter. When it reached the gates, it slowed to a trot, turned sharply and slipped through the opening.

  Seconds later, it was dead.

  Its squeals lasted only a few moments but were enough to terrify all who heard them. Aden rolled into a tight ball, expecting to die.

  Berrin didn’t judge him harshly for it. He had felt that way when the Gadges held him at their mercy and when the beast called a Firedrake was ready to fry him alive. He wondered if you became immune to the fear of death if you were exposed to it often enough.

>   Berrin rushed to the gates which now stood wide open. The body of the pig-dog lay just inside, twitching still. The repugnant stench of singed fur reached his nostrils, but from where he stood he could make out only one scorch mark on the fur. The creature had died on the first hit. He didn’t dare go any closer in case he died in the same way.

  ‘Berrin!’ Aden called desperately, on his feet again now. ‘I can hear the Dfx coming.’

  Suddenly Malig Tumora was back with them. ‘This way.’

  He led them into an alcove formed by the massive supports for the wall. ‘Take off your shoes and carry them,’ he whispered. ‘Be ready to move when I tell you.’

  They watched, unseen, as three Dfx arrived. They wouldn’t step through the gates. Instead they stood staring at the dead pig-dog from a distance until the observation ball arrived.

  ‘It-is-safe. The-electric-beam-has-been-turned-off,’ it assured them.

  The Dfx shuffled forward warily, but once they saw the bravest among them reach the dead beast unharmed, the others joined him. With the observation ball supervising, they picked up the body and carried it inside the wall.

  ‘I-wish-to-examine-it,’ said the robotic voice. ‘This-way.’

  As the Dfx headed off, with their backs to the three escapees, the gates began to close.

  ‘Now,’ Malig Tumora whispered.

  ‘But the beam that killed the pig-dog — it might have been switched back on,’ Berrin said.

  ‘Not until the gates are closed,’ came the confident reply.

  Malig Tumora had already covered the short distance to the lessening gap. He hurried through without hesitating, his shoeless feet silent on the hard surface of the courtyard beyond the gates.

  Berrin followed, expecting to be zapped by a deadly pain at any second. But it didn’t come and he realised that they were free of the menagerie at last.

  THE COLD BULK OF the Obsidian loomed above them as they put on their shoes.

  ‘Quickly, inside before we are seen,’ Malig Tumora urged them. Yet at the door, he stood willingly in the beam of a powerful light that scanned him up and down. ‘Recognised,’ said a robotic voice as the doors slid back.

  Berrin was the first through. He had not had a moment to think of his parents while they fled the menagerie. Now that they were so close, he could think of nothing else. ‘This way,’ he called to Aden, remembering the odd machine that had carried him to the laboratories on his last visit. He searched his memory and recalled Malig Tumora commanding it to take them to the ninth floor.

  He and Aden raced along the corridor to the tiny chamber at the end. ‘How do you work this thing?’ Berrin called over his shoulder to Malig Tumora.

  There was no answer. He spun round. The corridor was empty.

  ‘Where’s he gone?’

  Aden shrugged. ‘I guess he’s gone to find a key or something, so we can get at those moths.’

  ‘You’re probably right,’ Berrin murmured, but he felt uneasy. He was still shaken by their narrow escape at the menagerie’s gates. If he and Aden had rushed through the opening as Malig Tumora had told them to, they would both be as dead as that pig-dog. Malig Tumora must have known about the deadly beam. He had devised all these dangers himself. He even knew that the beam would not be turned on again until the gates were closed. This idea made Berrin feel even more nervous.

  ‘Where is he?’ he asked again.

  ‘Let’s go back and find him,’ Aden suggested.

  Berrin didn’t need a second invitation. He hurried along the passageway, expecting Malig Tumora to be in the large room where he had first seen him. But halfway along the corridor, he stopped dead in his tracks. There was the scientist, not in that lavishly furnished room, but in among the rows of intricate wires and blinking lights that made up the enormous computer.

  A little further along the corridor stood a door, still ajar from where Malig Tumora himself had entered. Berrin pushed it open, with Aden close behind. ‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded. ‘We have to reach the ninth floor. We have to steal those moths!’

  Malig Tumora didn’t answer. He was seated in front of a brightly lit screen with words and numbers all over it. Berrin remembered these screens from the laboratories. His parents had each been looking at one when he first saw them. Malig Tumora’s fingers danced across rows of buttons, each showing a letter or a number.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Berrin asked.

  ‘I’m re-programming the computer, of course.’

  Berrin had no idea what this meant. Besides, he had other goals in mind. ‘You must show us where the moths are kept.’

  At that instant, an alarm began to sound.

  ‘What’s that?’ Aden asked.

  Malig Tumora frowned. ‘The computer knows I’m here. But it will take a few minutes for the Gadges to arrive. Now get out of here and let me think. I have to override the computer’s power circuits.’

  Gadges! Berrin fought back his panic. They only had a few minutes, and they still hadn’t found the moths or his parents. Their chances of escape, the whole plan, was falling to pieces. ‘You must help us find the moths!’ he cried.

  ‘There are no moths, you fool,’ Malig Tumora snapped without taking his eyes from the screen.

  ‘Yes, there are. Upstairs, with my parents,’ Berrin insisted. ‘You told us yourself.’

  He took hold of Malig Tumora’s sleeve and tried to tug him towards the door. Aden sprang to help him.

  ‘Get off!’ the man shouted furiously. ‘There are no moths upstairs. Do you really think I would give you the very weapon that could destroy all I’ve worked for? Of course not. But I needed you to get me out of that menagerie. This is why we’re here!’ he shouted, waving madly at the machinery all around them. ‘I must make this computer obey me, so that I can take back control.’

  Berrin knew then that his suspicions were well founded. ‘That beam guarding the gates — you expected it to kill us, didn’t you? And with the beam turned off so the Dfx could clear away our bodies, you could have slipped through alone.’

  Malig Tumora didn’t deny it. In fact, he didn’t even bother with a reply. He turned back to the only task he cared about: regaining his power over the city.

  That was his aim, but for all his genius and his deadly deception, he failed. The sound of shattering glass reached them, and moments later the fearsome bulk of Gadger Red appeared in the doorway.

  FIFTEEN

  Obsolete

  GADGER RED DROPPED ONTO four legs so he could fit through the door. Once inside, he rose to his full height again, towering over the boys. Not that he paid them much attention. His cruel eyes were focused on the man.

  ‘Take these two back to the menagerie and leave me to deal with this rogue computer,’ said Malig Tumora.

  Gadger Red didn’t move. Three of his companions joined him. Above them hovered the observation ball.

  Malig Tumora became impatient. ‘You heard me. I created you. I am your master still. Obey my orders.’

  Gadger Red turned to the observation ball. ‘Does our agreement still stand?’

  ‘Yes-Gadger-you-may-have-free-rein-as-we-agreed,’ came the computer’s answer.

  ‘And later, when these clones you plan to make have taken the place of the other humans?’

  ‘The-obsolete-humans-will-also-be-yours.’

  As the observation ball spoke, Berrin saw lights blinking rapidly on the many panels that made up the computer. It was like watching a brain at work, he thought. And this brain seemed more evil than the man who had created it.

  That man, Malig Tumora, stood only metres from him, his face growing purple with rage. ‘I control the city, not this machine,’ he screamed at Gadger Red. ‘It serves me, just as you and your Gadges and every other creature I created lives only to do as I say.’

  ‘Take-the-suitable-subject-back-to-the-menagerie-and-the-young-humans-with-him,’ the observation ball said.

  With a simple nod, Gadger Red ordered his companions to o
bey. First Malig Tumora was seized, then Aden, who had backed away in terror, and finally Berrin. Once again, he felt the steely grip of a Gadge’s claws around his wrist. What chance of escape did he have this time?

  THE PRISONERS WERE hauled away from the computer and out of the Obsidian altogether. A short march across the open courtyard brought them back to the gates leading to the menagerie. Berrin expected the Dfx to take over from here, but once the gates were opened Gadger Red led them all inside without hesitation.

  ‘I thought you never wanted to set foot in this place,’ Berrin called to Gadger Red.

  The beast turned to see who had spoken so boldly. ‘Things have changed,’ he answered ominously.

  Even without Gadger Red’s words, Berrin would have guessed as much. The menagerie was in uproar. The fearful growls and screeches from behind the walls were louder than ever. A troop of Dfx ran past, an odd combination of terror and delight contorting their faces.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Aden whispered beside him, the fear heavy in his voice.

  ‘The animals are being stirred up. Deliberately, I think,’ Berrin replied. Since the gates had closed behind them, he had detected an odd scent in the air. Now he knew what it was. ‘They smell blood.’

  He thought back to the odd conversation they had overheard inside the Obsidian. The computer had won the loyalty of the Gadges with a promise — a blood promise, which Berrin now feared might include their own.

  With such worries crowding his mind, Berrin was almost relieved to find himself back in the same enclosure. The body-like shapes beneath the blankets had not been disturbed, but the menagerie itself was not the same place. He wondered whether he would ever sleep beneath the lean-to again. This day might well be his last.

  THE OBSERVATION BALL remained when the Gadges had withdrawn beyond the door. The lock, Berrin noticed, had been repaired after the damage he had done with the spoon.

  ‘The-special-room-is-almost-ready-for-you-Malig-Tumora,’ the observation ball announced eagerly. ‘We-will-be-able-to-take-the-blood-we-need-without-the-difficulties-of-last-time.’