The Omega Children - The Return of the Marauders (A young adult fiction best seller): An Action Adventure Mystery

by Shane Mason

  What was a Nap Retep? And why did he need to be called it? And why the secrecy?

  Quesob kicked the door.

  ‘I will bite my tongue to my master but not to you. I will not call him Nap Retep.’

  Doctor Thurgood withdrew, pulling the door shut a little and shook his head at Quesob. ‘No matter. You cannot see him. He is in a very delicate stage of his treatment.’

  Quesob rammed his foot in the door.

  Doctor Thurgood banged the door. ‘Hsssss. Take your foot out!’

  ‘He would want to see me about this.’

  ‘No he wouldn’t!’

  ‘Yes he would.’

  ‘NO HE WOULDN’T!’ Doctor Thurgood’s weedy neck muscles strained, making it look as stringy as a lizard about to attack.

  Much was at stake and so Quesob spoke in a calm measured voice. ‘Please tell him that I am here.’

  Doctor Thurgood muttered something under his breath, disappeared and reappeared moments later.

  ‘Very well. But you must talk to him like a baby.’

  ‘What?’

  Doctor Thurgood tapped his head and flicked his hands around.

  ‘With your loutish pea-brain I expect you would struggle with the complexities of an explanation.’

  Quesob entered the low lit room and in an instance saw his master’s study had been converted into an oversized child's nursery. Soft toys littered the ground, small cartoon horses frolicked on the wallpaper and bright blue thick drapes hung from the window. Even the wooden floor now had carpet patterned with roads and small houses. His master lay on his back in an oversized baby's cot, clad in a bulky nappy and uttering baby noises. His head was shaven and even his eyebrows and normally bushy beard had gone – all plucked out.

  Quesob did not know what to make of it, let alone what to say.

  ‘Goo,’ Quesob said feeling stupid and resenting it.

  Daquan’s face strained and turned red, his cheeks puffing out as his stomach bulged in and out.

  Doctor Thurgood rushed past Quesob. ‘Get out of the way. This is crucial.’

  Doctor Thurgood stood over Daquan encouraging him in a sweet voice. ‘Yes, that’s good, that’s good, do a nice poopy for daddy, good boy.’

  Quesob’s insides reeled and he felt sick watching the sight. A splurging sound filled the air followed by an immense stink. The red puffy look on Daquan’s face subsided and returned to its new pale hairless flesh colour. He let out a sigh of relief.

  ‘Wonderful,’ Doctor Thurgood cried out.

  Quesob cradled his pug-nose in his hand and tried to stop the stench from hurting his nostrils. It pushed him over the edge.

  ‘OH MY GOD. BY ALL THAT IS HOLY AND SACRED. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM?’

  Panic screwed up Doctor Thurgood’s face and Daquan sat bolt upright, ripped from his baby-act, angry. A loud squashing sound accompanied him.

  ‘Tell him,’ Daquan said.

  ‘NO! Don’t break character,’ Doctor Thurgood yelled.

  ‘Then tell him,’ Daquan said again and lay back down with a squelching sound.

  With great displeasure Doctor Thurgood started explaining. ‘We think we know why the bracelets stopped working.’

  ‘Think?’ Quesob said confused.

  ‘Yes. A cluttered mind you see, like yours.’ Doctor Thurgood peered down his thin nose at Quesob.

  ‘And that’s why Lord Daquan just shat himself.’

  ‘Nat Retep,’ Doctor Thurgood said.

  ‘This makes no sense.’ Dust fell from Quesob’s hair as he shook his head. ‘I travel for months to find the bracelets and come back to find this utter nonsense. My lord ─ ’

  Daquan boomed at Doctor Thurgood, ‘Get to the point.’

  He booted Doctor Thurgood in his thigh. The doctor let out a small cry, sniffed and pushed his glasses back up in a huff.

  ‘All right, I will explain so that the simplest of children could get it.’

  Doctor Thurgood spun his head to face Quesob. His nostrils flared like a wild horse.

  ‘When does a child cease to be a child? Mmm, Mmmm!’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Quesob said staring at his twitching nostrils and finding them vulgar.

  ‘Of course you don’t. The dolt was never a child.’

  Quesob started to reply but Doctor Thurgood stopped him with an upheld hand.

  ‘Try again. I shall rephrase. What happens to children in New Wakefield to make them disciplined?’

  Quesob snapped to attention and said as if repeating like a robot, ‘Play and questions are the enemy of a disciplined soul,’ and then relaxed.

  ‘Yeeeeesssss!’

  Doctor Thurgood pushed his face closer to Quesob’s and with a wide-eyed smile that bordered on insanity, said in amazement, ‘When they stop playing, when they stop pretending and start seeing what adult’s see. And what do adult’s see?’ He did not wait for an answer but with a flourish of his bony hand announced, ‘The world without imagination.’

  He paused as if waiting for applause and then said with pride, ‘I have deduced the bracelets stopped working when the fun stopped.’

  Quesob’s mind churned.

  ‘But that…that…is what we squash in childhood. Imagination prevents us from seeing what’s real.’

  ‘Ah ha! Spoken like the true dolt you are. I am vindicated once more.’

  Quesob snarled at him clenching and unclenching his fists.

  ‘Ahhhh,’ Doctor Thurgood croaked with a relish, ‘violence, the last atavistic refuge of the stupid.’

  Annoyed, Daquan pushed himself up.

  ‘No stay like a baby,’ Doctor Thurgood yelled.

  Daquan whacked Doctor Thurgood around the back of the head with his hefty but hairless arm. ‘Fool. All you had to do was answer his questions.’

  While Doctor Thurgood protested Daquan explained more detail in his normal gruff voice.

  ‘The bracelets stopped working properly when we were around 18 or 20 years of age. It seems so obvious now. That’s when things got serious. Youth is what makes the bracelets work. And the young have an uncluttered mind filled with fresh ideas that seem to make for nonsense. It’s that which we think powers the bracelets.’

  ‘And the...’ Quesob said pointing to the malodorous nappy.

  ‘I have to attain the mind of a baby if I am to use the bracelets.’

  ‘Yes, about the bracelets.’ Quesob looked despondent. ‘We searched the house high and low but nothing. We took care of the parents. The bracelets were nowhere.’

  The news alarmed Daquan. Doctor Thurgood winched his disapproval. ‘No he should not worry about anything.’

  Daquan raised himself off his undersized cot, fully releasing the stink from his nappy. He slapped Doctor Thurgood again. ‘If we don’t have the bracelets,’ he roared, ‘then all this is in vain.’

  ‘I found this though.’ Quesob pulled some toy figures, a doll and some drawings done by children from his jacket. ‘We also found what is called a play-ground. Are you familiar with such?’

  Daquan nodded and thought about the news. ‘So they were also training to become kids again. Fascinating. You killed them all?’

  ‘My Lord. As commanded.’

  ‘Good, good.’

  Silent reflection fell across Daquan’s hairless face. ‘Good.’ He looked up and his fatty jowls wobbled slightly. ‘Trust in me Quesob. I feel we are close. Doctor Thurgood will continue to transform me into a baby. I want you to prepare for what we spoke about.’

  ‘But without the bracelets.’

  ‘They are all dead, for sure?’

  ‘Saw to it myself.’

  ‘Then trust. The bracelets will turn up soon.’ Daquan caught a look on Quesob’s face that suggested there was more news. ‘What else?’

  ‘A giant eagle attacked us, twice. And a forest appeared in front of us out of nowhere. And the house they were living in was rigged. They blew it up soon after we attacked. And why are the workers active at this time of night?’
>
  Daquan received the news and pondered it at length. ‘Be about what you need to do. Don’t worry about the workers. I feel the end we have sought so long for is close at hand.’

  ***

  ‘Well,’ Lexington asked again.

  Melaleuca vented a sigh of frustration. Lexington had a point - this was real yet the ever-present words of her mother, “play, play-acting, move forward,” rolled around in her mind, contradicting their present reality.

  Had their mothers got it wrong? How would play help them here and now? The same hand of doubt she had felt the night on the mountain stirred deep inside her again, and she could feel it wanting to pull her down. With the mantle of leadership on her shoulders she sensed the others wanting to hear how playing would help.

  ‘Let’s just explore the passageways,’ Melaleuca said making a snap decision.

  ‘Because playing is wrong?’ Lexington asked.

  ‘Because it’s what I decided.’

  The secret passages had their own sets of secret stairs ascending and descending all five stories. They seemed to go on forever, like a labyrinth following every wall, every twist and every turn. Having discovered empty room after empty room, their enthusiasm waned, and tracking where they were and where they had been became near impossible, even with Lexington’s near photographic memory and Ari’s uncanny sense of direction.

  As they searched for a way back they passed a room on the second level with voices coming from it, and out of a small peephole shone a beam of light.

  Melaleuca looked through it.

  Aunty Gertrude sat on a bed, her naked back covered with deep scars and violent looking pock marks.

  Melaleuca gasped.

  ‘Let me see,’ Quixote said pushing forward.

  Melaleuca hissed at him. ‘Ssssshhhh. Quiet. They will hear.’

  One by one they peered through the peephole.

  ‘Oh my,’ Lexington said in a whisper. ‘What do you think happened to her?’

  ‘She’s from outer space,’ Quixote said back.

  ‘Shhhh. Not so loud,’ Melaleuca said. ‘It’s probably why she is so crabby.’

  ‘Is that what she meant when she said she would whip us into shape,’ Quixote said.

  ‘Shh,’ Melaleuca said again. ‘Lower your voice.’

  ‘What do you mean Quixote?’ Lexington asked.

  ‘On the stairs,’ Ari answered in a whisper. ‘She yelled if Uncle did not get us under control within two weeks, she would whip us into shape.’

  ‘Actually whip us?’

  They heard a door open and shut and then heard Uncle Bear-Nard’s voice. As he spoke, it became clearer.

  ‘Here’s your cream dear,’ Uncle Bear-Nard said.

  ‘I’m not happy,’ Aunty Gertrude snapped.

  ‘Yes dear.’

  ‘You said those children were well behaved. They are insolent, rude, ill-mannered, wilful, obstreperous and rambunctious.’

  ‘Yes dear.’

  ‘And stop agreeing.’

  ‘Yes dear.’

  ‘BEAR-NARD!!!’

  Melaleuca could almost hear him cowering.

  ‘I m..m..mean I will...will...will talk to them.’

  ‘If they cannot behave then I will send them to the borstal.’

  ‘I am sure they will see reason...over time.’

  ‘Over time! There is no time. Send them to the Unforbidden Forest or Disciple Park. Or both.’

  ‘Please dear, let me have a couple of weeks, that’s all it will take. Just two weeks and I am sure they will adjust, please, please, please.’

  Lexington whispered, ‘Poor Uncle Bear-Nard.’

  An evil tone entered Aunty Gertrude’s voice, a tone she took great relish in. ‘You know what will happen to them if they go to the borstal. I will make sure they are crushed.’

  ‘Just two weeks. Please.’

  ‘Smack them into shape or I will tell them the truth, that their parents are dead.’

  Chapter 9 - Exploration

  Gathered in the girl’s room, the news sat heavy upon Lexington. Weak candle light, tugged by a draught, flickered across her face.

  ‘Alive or dead it changes nothing,’ Melaleuca said. ‘We still keep being us, playing, working out what’s going on and not listening to anyone else.’

  ‘Don’t you care,’ Lexington said holding back tears.

  ‘Lex,’ Ari said, putting his arm around her. ‘I know you don’t want to hear this but Mel is right. Think about it.’

  ‘Perhaps we should go back?’ Lexington put to them.

  ‘Lex,’ Melaleuca said concerned.

  ‘I need proof.’

  ‘Of course,’ Melaleuca said. ‘And until we have that...’

  Lexington sighed. ‘I know...I know...until then...we don’t know.’

  ‘Use that brain of yours Lex. What are the possibilities and probabilities?’ Melaleuca said.

  ‘Cheer up Lex,’ Quixote said unchanged by the news.

  Lexington sniffed.

  ‘How can you be so happy?’

  An “it’s-obvious” look passed over Quixote’s face.

  ‘Cos I bet Aunty just meant she would tell us that, even though it is not true. You know, like, “I ate the last one,” but I haven’t.’

  ‘Maybe. I guess she could not have seen the bodies? And anyway, who saw them last besides us?’

  ‘Argus? Our attackers,’ Quixote said.

  ‘Forget Argus,’ Ari reminded them. ‘He’s gone and he lied to us. He said our parents led our attackers in the opposite direction yet we saw them heading into the mountain cave.’

  ‘Which means...’ Lexington said with a rush. ‘They might have them. They could be here.’

  Melaleuca shook her head at Ari.

  ‘Which means we don’t know,’ Ari said.

  ‘Enough,’ Melaleuca said. ‘A clearing is needed.’

  After clearing themselves they all climbed into Melaleuca’s bed and slept.

  ***

  Lexington stirred, hovering at the edges of wakefulness - her mind refusing to settle.

  ‘Wake up. Wake up. Wake up,’ a small voice said. ‘Wake up.’

  Roused, she peered into the darkness and smelt burnt-down candle wax. Something darted across the room.

  ‘Who’s there?’

  Startled, the figure leapt up and ran straight through the closed door and disappeared.

  She lifted herself over Quixote and felt her way to the door. Finding it locked, she concluded she must have dreamt it. Living creatures can’t pass through solid matter but then she thought of the disappearing creature and their mothers’ unexplained appearance and disappearance. If her hypothesis were written, she chided herself, answers would be closer at hand.

  She felt her way back to the small desk and lit another candle. She pulled one of her last notebooks out and glanced over her shoulder, checking her cousins still slept, and commenced writing.

  “Why”

  ‘About time.’

  ‘Shh not so loud.’

  ‘No one can hear me.’

  ‘Okay. What do you think?’

  ‘About???’

  ‘Stop it you know very well.’

  ‘I think a hyper-thesis is needed.’

  ‘Hyperthesis?’

  ‘Yes. A hypothesis is the theory that is underneath something. We need a theory that is above everything.’

  ‘Sounds the same.’

  ‘Perhaps. With a hyperthesis you take the facts and see what theory fits between them. A hypothesis is where you start with a theory.’

  ‘I just need a framework. Melaleuca says keep moving forward. But she has no aim.’

  ‘You are not sure really, are you? If only you had Melaleuca’s gut feelings.’

  ‘Well I don’t. Help me or...’

  She held the pen in her hand and started to write, “that’s why.”

  ‘Okay I’ll help.’

  ‘My hypothesis has to explain many things.’

  ‘A hy
perthesis would be perfect. Arrange the facts and plot between them.’

  ‘Listen. Here are my starting hypotheses. I have been thinking about them.’

  As she spoke them she wrote them down.

  1. Most of the strange effects are illusions designed to fool us from the truth.

  2. Something really obvious has been hidden under our noses.

  3. T­he dinosaurs never died out, and they, and an ancient culture, have survived to this day.

  4. Our parents organised this as a big test.

  5. Pirates set up this land and we are descended from them.

  6. We are the next step in evolution.

  ‘Is that it?’

  ‘It’s a start.’

  ‘A poor one at best. Pirates?’

  ‘Yes pirates. If I don’t put that one there, Quixote will get bored.’

  ‘What about all the tidbits you heard while asleep from Argus and Antavahni?’

  ‘I can only remember them for a few days afterwards. It was enough that I recalled that stuff about Argus. After many days it is all a jumble.’

  ‘How will those hypothesis help?’

  ‘Take the first one. If what we are seeing are illusions then find what is creating them and we find our answer. Or Number 6, the next step in evolution. Think about it. Our parents talked of risking something. Quixote saw our fathers with above human abilities. Already Mel has developed some trait of looking into people, and I, well, I have you.’

  ‘Not bad.’

  Melaleuca stirred and pushed herself up and in a sleepy voice said, ‘Lex, who are you talking to?’

  Lexington wrote “That’s why” in hurry and then turned to Melaleuca.

  ‘Myself. I could not s.s.s..sleep,’ she said.

  ‘You okay? You sound scared.’

  ‘You scared me. I have been sitting thinking and well, there are lots of noises.’

  ‘Oh. Go to sleep. Worry about it in the morning.’

  Lexington doused the candle and hopped into bed.

  ‘The hypotheses are worked out. At least it’s a start.’

  ‘Good.’

  The next morning the door swung open, and two maids holding piles of clothes and their cloaks freshly laundered, entered. Noses held high, they deported themselves with a royal air.