by Greg James
Outside, a ripple passed through the crowds of massed Rogues and Cleaners, like wind across a field of wheat, as the mind control was broken.
‘What’s going on?’ snapped Roman Goldstealer.
‘Wait, don’t tell me, I’ll remember this time,’ said the bubbling voice of Goldfish beside him. ‘Something about … not having knickers?’
‘What on earth are you talking about?’
Around them, Cleaners were blinking and shaking their heads as their brains cleared.
‘What have we been doing?’ said one at that moment.. ‘Nicholas Knox! He hacked our brains! He’s been controlling us!’
‘Nicholas, that’s it!’ said Goldfish, smiling radiantly. ‘I knew it was something with knickers in!’
‘Quiet, you foolish fish!’ screeched Goldstealer. ‘Knox’s technology has been broken! The Cleaners will turn on us! Goldbot! Activate!’
‘GOLDBOT WILL ATTACK!’ droned the robot.
‘Look out!’ shouted the Cleaner to his colleagues, diving to one side as Goldbot advanced on them, mashing its huge metal pincers. ‘Prepare to retaliate!’
Right across the crowd the same scene was being reenacted over and over. Shouts, screams and explosions began to ring out as the Rogues and Cleaners turned on each other. Within seconds, the area in front of the Presidential Palace had transformed into a deafening, turbulent battleground.
Mr Flash was closest to the windows. He watched as the scene outside descended into chaos.
‘IT’S GOING OFF!’ he yelled. ‘ANGEL, COME WITH ME! We’ve got to help the Cleaners! There’s hundreds of Rogues out there! You lot deal with this oil-monger!’
He and Angel raced away, leaving the Super Zeroes facing their enemies across the silent palace chamber.
Knox’s mouth twitched, and for a moment Murph was worried he was going to pull out some concealed weapon. But then, with a desperate, high-pitched shout of ‘Finish them off!’ he turned and sprinted for the doors.
‘Coward! After him! Don’t let him get away!’ said Murph, grabbing Mary’s hand as she ran across to join them.
The other, fake, Mary was running after her master, changing shape as she went until she returned to the slight, dark-haired figure of Katerina Kopylova once again. Knox and Kopy Kat ran through a set of large wooden double doors, but before the Zeroes could give chase, their way was blocked.
‘Hold on, hold on, now what’s all this?’ said the deep, posh voice of the Prime Minister. Hector Blunderbuss’s bulky figure was in their path, and he turned to shut the doors behind him.
‘Get out of the way, you bumbling twit!’ yelled Murph.
‘Oh, I don’t think that’s very nice,’ complained Blunderbuss. ‘That’s not the sort of language we like to use in my political party. Party. Party party party.’ A bead of sweat had broken out on his brow, and as it trickled down his face it left a white trail behind it.
‘You’re not a real politician!’ gasped Hilda.
‘How dare you – party party,’ said Blunderbuss, pulling out a handkerchief and mopping his brow. The hanky came away stained with pink make-up, and more white splotches had appeared on his face. ‘That is fake news.’
‘I don’t know about fake news,’ said Mary grimly, ‘but I’m fairly sure that is a fake nose.’ The Zeroes fanned out as Blunderbuss continued to mop at his face, muttering to himself, ‘Party party party …’
‘It’s Party Animal!’ realised Murph.
Party Animal was a long-standing enemy of the Heroes’ Alliance, and a particular nemesis of the head of The School, Mr Souperman, who, in his identity as Captain Alpha, had twice put Party Animal behind bars. The giant clown had also worked for Magpie in the Alliance of Evil, but Knox had recently seen fit to put him to work, too. Party Animal’s hatred of Heroes had made him a perfect candidate for Prime Minister, though he’d had to do the job in disguise. People would have asked awkward questions about his hair otherwise. And his oversized trousers.
‘Party party party,’ snarled Party Animal, growing more and more agitated at the sight of his enemies. Suddenly, with a loud pop! the large pink nose sprang off, revealing his real one beneath, which was round and red.
‘Told you it was a fake nose,’ said Mary in a satisfied tone of voice.
‘Quick! We’ve got to get this clown out of the way so we can get after Knox,’ yelled Murph. ‘Who knows what he’s planning? He looked pretty desperate.’
‘He’s probably gone to the toilet, then,’ said Billy wisely.
‘Not that sort of desperate, Billy,’ said Murph in a strained voice. ‘Desperate to … you know. Do villain stuff.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Billy. ‘You get after him, then. I’ll deal with the giant clown and catch you up.’
‘Hilda – Nellie – help Billy take out Party Animal!’ ordered Murph. ‘Mary … let’s go!’
‘Follow that megalomaniac!’ confirmed Mary, yanking the door open and sprinting off in pursuit of Knox, with Murph in her wake.
‘Come back here where I can get hold of you!’ roared Party Animal, all traces of his fake, deep Prime Ministerial voice gone now. ‘I wanna have a little party with you, that’s all! A DEATH PARTY! A HA HA HA HA HA! … OUCH!’
Billy had decided to test out his new combat gauntlets. Ballooning a fist, he swung it at Party Animal, connecting firmly with the side of his huge head, which was now shedding flesh-toned make-up like pink rain. ‘Come on, then,’ said Billy, dancing from foot to foot and swinging his enormous, rock-hard fist. ‘Put your dukes up, clowny!’
There followed the most bizarre boxing match that has ever been staged at any point in human history, bar none. In the blue corner, a child with one abnormally large hand encased in a special, reinforced stretchy glove. In the red corner, a half-crazed giant clown who until recently has been helping to run the country. Instead of a boxing ring, the fight was staged in a large, sumptuously furnished room in a real-life palace.
‘Seconds out, round one!’ cried Hilda, dinging a spoon against a teacup she’d found on a nearby table to make the noise of a bell.
‘And the giant clown comes out swinging,’ continued Hilda, warming to her role of commentator. ‘He’s certainly got the advantage of size, weighing in at, ooh, I don’t know, a couple of tonnes.’
‘Hey!’ complained Party Animal. ‘I’m still carrying a little winter weight, sure, but that’s just rude!’
‘Sorry,’ said Hilda. ‘OOOH! And as the clown is distracted by my fat-shaming, Balloon Boy lands a cracking right hook right on his hooter!’ There was a loud parping noise, such as you might hear if you hit a large clown hard on the nose.
‘It doesn’t look like he’s got any of his little gadgets in his suit this time!’ realised Nellie, remembering that in Party Animal’s usual clown costume were hidden all kinds of weaponry – exploding balloons and streamers that tangled you up.
‘Yep – it’s a clean fight!’ confirmed Billy, dancing backwards swinging his fist. ‘Boy against giant clown – just as nature intended!’
‘Party Animal reels from that lovely punch,’ commentated Hilda, ‘but it looks like he’s really mad now. He’s windmilling his arms like … like some sort of wind-powered building. He’s knocked over a small nest of tables! And another one! He’s sent that crystal decanter flying! He’s taking no prisoners, this clown. Balloon Boy is backing into his corner. It looks bad for the young contender! Oh I say! He’s managed to dodge sideways, and … LOOK AT THAT! He’s ballooned his left hand as well!’ There was a loud tromboning noise. ‘The clown’s not sure about that. He wasn’t expecting to deal with a southpaw! He doesn’t know where the next punch is coming from … KER-CHANG! And that’s a huge, sweeping uppercut to the jaw from the young Hero. The clown’s falling backwards. He’s crushed another table. He looks like he’s out cold! Here comes the count! ONE-ah! TWO-ah … !’
‘Hilda, come on!’ urged Nellie in her quiet but urgent voice.
‘THREE-ah …’
‘There isn’t time! We’re supposed to be catching Knox, not awarding Billy the world heavyweight clown-boxing belt.’
‘Oh, all right,’ said Hilda, casting a wistful glance back at the snoring form of Party Animal. ‘The title is totally yours, though,’ she reassured Billy as they followed Nellie through the double doors and away through the palace.
Billy grinned back at her as he returned his gauntlets to their regulation size.
21
The Gemini Protocol
Nicholas Knox was a very organised man. He prepared for all eventualities. If, for example, he trod in a big puddle by accident, it wouldn’t matter as he always had a spare pair of his over-polished shoes to hand (or in this case, to foot). If his hair became disarranged, he made sure he constantly had no fewer than three combs in the inside pocket of his smart suit.
And if his evil plans for total domination just happened to falter, he had a spare set of evil plans up his sleeve. Well, not literally up his sleeve. (That’s where he keeps his fourth emergency comb.) The evil plans were kept in the very deepest cellar beneath the palace, in the very secure and secret laboratory which we briefly mentioned in an earlier chapter, just to toy with you.
Knox raced down the stone-floored passageway deep underneath the palace. He passed the door of the lab where the Combat Wombat had been developed, stopping only at the very end of the corridor, where a set of thick doors barred his way. Sweating, Knox tapped a complicated code into the keypad beside the doors and they slid smoothly open.
The lab was huge, brightly lit and air-conditioned, so the air was chilly. Gleaming silver desks were arranged around the outside of the enormous space, all facing inwards to a platform where a nest of tubes, piping and wiring surrounded a glass pod. Wheels and gears were arranged in complicated patterns, and circuit boards dangled on the ends of thick snakes of cabling.
Here, Nicholas Knox had been working on a secret project. His endgame. His ultimate weapon. He had worked on it alone, not trusting anyone else to know his most secret plans. So there were no other scientists to see what he was planning … or to warn him of the dangers.
Knox mounted the platform in the centre of the lab, and stood in front of the glass pod. Dimly visible in the swirling mist inside was a large, hulking figure – although if you’d been there watching you would have seen something familiar in the indistinct silhouette. It looked oddly as though Knox were gazing into a trick mirror – the shape in the pod had the same outline to its shoulders, the same shaped head … but it was much larger and bulkier.
Wiping his brow, Knox smiled slightly to himself. His mind control might have been broken, his control of the population crushed … but he still had this one last play. He would show his enemies that the only thing that truly mattered, in the end, was power.
He turned to face a control panel, reaching a carefully manicured finger towards a row of switches. At the top of the panel a printed metal sign bore the words GEMINI PROTOCOL.
‘He went this way,’ panted Murph as they ran down a carpeted hallway. He was fumbling for something on his utility belt as he sprinted.
‘What are you looking for?’ Mary wanted to know.
‘Comms jammer,’ Murph said breathlessly. ‘Stop him calling for backup. Ah, here we go!’ He flicked a switch on the small unit he’d taken from the belt. ‘Carl says this should jam all radio frequencies in the area,’ he told the others, ‘so at least we’ll only have Knox and Kopy Kat to deal with.’
‘Stairs!’ said Mary, peering through a partially open polished wooden door. Sure enough, a wide gilded stairway, lined with expensive-looking paintings, led downwards. The two of them dashed onwards and downwards.
In the laboratory, Nicholas Knox peered once again into the glass pod, gazing at the shape that looked so oddly like some huge, warped reflection.
A faint crash from outside brought him to his senses. He knew the Rogues he had working for him couldn’t hold out for long. Those fools from the Heroes’ Alliance could already be on their way. Well … he would give them a welcome they wouldn’t forget. He flicked down a row of switches and a bright light illuminated the shape inside the pod.
Murph and Mary burst through the doors of the lab just as Knox was grasping a large lever labelled ACTIVATE.
‘Knox!’ called Murph. ‘Give it up! You’ve lost!’
‘Lost?’ snarled Knox. ‘Oh, I don’t think so. Nicholas Knox never loses.’
‘Well,’ Mary reasoned, ‘we foiled your plans, so we reckon that counts as a loss. And in any case, you talk about yourself in the third person, so even if you don’t think you’ve lost, you’re without question a big oily loser.’
‘Face it,’ Murph added, ‘you’re on your own.’
Knox’s face curled into a sickly smile. ‘On my own?’ he said, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on the lever. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that.’ He turned his hand sharply, and there was a whine and a grinding from the machinery as it activated.
At that moment Billy, Nellie and Hilda burst in. ‘Whoa! Secret villain lab full of secret villainy things,’ warned Billy.
‘Whatever he’s doing, it doesn’t look good,’ said Mary grimly, circling around the side of the laboratory. ‘Is there any way of shutting it off, do you think?’
‘Too late,’ replied Murph, pointing. The indistinct shape within the glass pod had begun, ponderously at first, to move. Its huge arms swung out to the side, thudding dully against the sides.
‘What on earth has he got in there?’ said Billy, his voice shrill over the whine of the machinery.
‘Oh, you’re about to find out,’ yelled Knox mockingly. ‘And you’re the very first people to see it. You should feel very lucky. It has only just begun to test its strength.’ The hammering from inside the pod grew louder, and then the glass suddenly shattered. As the mist dispersed, the Zeroes got their first proper look at the creature inside.
‘It’s him!’ breathed Hilda, horrified. ‘It’s … Knox!’
Standing inside the shattered remains of the pod was, indeed, a version of Nicholas Knox. But larger and wider, towering above him with thickly muscled arms and legs. Its eyes glittered with the same dark malice.
‘Yes,’ said Knox casually. ‘It’s so important to enjoy one’s own company, don’t you think? I always knew that when push came to shove, there would only be one person I could truly rely on. Myself. So I’ve been working on this. Something I like to call … Mega Knox.’
‘That is truly mega-weird,’ said Billy. ‘What kind of twisted weirdo makes a giant muscly version of themselves and keeps it in the cellar?’
‘Twisted? No, no, no,’ tutted Knox. ‘Just prepared for anything. I knew that even if my mind control was broken, Mega Knox would obey me. You see, it’s designed to learn from its creator. Anything I can do, it can do better. It’s quite fabulous.’
‘Metaphorically,’ began Billy, ‘I suppose you could say that Knox has created a monster.’
‘That is literally what he’s done, Billy,’ Murph corrected him. ‘Get Mr Greening to go over metaphors with you if we ever get back to school.’
Mega Knox turned its head ponderously to look around at the Super Zeroes facing it from across the laboratory.
‘We have some enemies here, my friend,’ said Knox smoothly. ‘Enemies will try to destroy us. We must destroy them first.’ Mega Knox nodded, and lumbered off the platform. It picked up a workbench and tossed it casually aside as it advanced on the Zeroes.
‘Game plan?’ said Mary, edging over to Murph.
Murph’s mind was reeling. He had thought the battle was over – now it seemed it was only just beginning. As he watched, Mega Knox grabbed a computer monitor and mashed it between its hands as if it were a ball of paper.
‘We need a bit of time to think this one through,’ he muttered to himself, ‘before that happens to us.’ Out loud he said, ‘Let’s try and lure it into the open! We don’t stand a chance in here. Let’s go! Move!’
&
nbsp; Nicholas Knox cackled with delight as the Zeroes piled out of the lab and dashed off down the passageway. ‘Yes, good idea. Get running,’ he yelled after them, ‘but you can’t run forever! We will find you … and we will crush you!’ His mocking laughter receded behind them as they sprinted away.
22
Backup
Murph and the Super Zeroes burst out of the front doors of the palace to a scene of complete chaos. Not just minor chaos, this was chaos with a capital C. And, indeed, a capital H, A, O, and S. Written in really big letters, in bold. And coloured in red.
Immediately in front of the Presidential Palace was a large circular piazza with a statue in the middle. Beyond this, a long, wide road led away with areas of parkland on either side. Now, as Murph surveyed the scene, he could see fighting going on everywhere. Rogues were being rounded up by Cleaners, but many were resisting. Explosions rocked the air, and the night sky was alive with sparks and flame.
‘This is insane!’ said Mary as the Zeroes took cover behind a large stone pillar. Ahead of them, a squad of Cleaners clattered across the pavement in hot pursuit of a large man in swimming trunks, who kept stopping to fling different hats at them. One of the Cleaners stumbled as a bishop’s mitre caught him full in the face.
‘Oddhat!’ shouted the large man in triumph, before turning and running off once again.
‘Through here,’ Murph instructed the others, leading them to a small side gate which stood open. ‘Let’s see if we can find a friendly face in amongst all this palaver.’
They ran through the gate and tried to make their way across the circular piazza, zigzagging and ducking as Rogues and Cleaners grappled and chased each other. Bangs and shouts cut through the chilly evening air. The Super Zeroes took refuge up against the large statue in the centre of the circle.
‘It’s no good,’ said Murph, looking around him. ‘I thought we might find someone here to give us some backup, but it looks like they’ve got their hands full.’ Indeed, the Rogues seemed to have the best of the battle. As they watched, the pig strode into view holding a huge flame-thrower. Soldiers and Cleaners scattered in panic as he raked a jet of fire across the concrete, laughing and oinking maniacally.
