History Hackers

by Charlie Carter

  ‘Who knows what it all means,’ said Four. ‘We need to get a closer look. At the very least, I’d love to see what’s behind this white glass.’

  He reached up and tapped the cloudy cone on the cylinder. It glowed, the cylinder made a humming sound, and a moment later the cloudiness cleared. The Battle Agents gasped.

  Behind the glass cone was an Egyptian queen, rotating very slowly. Only her upper half was visible. She wore an elaborate golden headpiece with a diamond-eyed cobra at the front, poised to strike. Hundreds of silver cords in the shape of snakes were threaded through her jet-black hair and dangling down her forehead. Her arms were crossed in front of her chest, fingers loaded with jewel-encrusted rings, her wrists wrapped in diamonds, a golden cobra armlet coiled around the top of each forearm. Her eyes were closed, as if sleeping, the lids heavily painted with rich purple eyeshadow.

  ‘That has to be Cleopatra,’ whispered Nine.

  ‘More like the ghost of Cleopatra,’ Four added. ‘Take a closer look. You can see through her.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Five. ‘She’s not fully formed, not actually solid.’

  ‘No, not yet. That’s what this cylinder is all about. It’s giving organic substance to her digital blueprint. Just like Prof said. Incredible.’

  The Battle Agents continued to stare in amaze­ment at the transparent Cleopatra.

  ‘So this is what’s in those other cylinders that are operating,’ said Nine.

  ‘Exactly,’ Four replied. ‘I wonder if —’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Five. ‘But we don’t really have time to wonder. We have to get back to Prof on the double. She needs to know about this at once.’

  ‘I’m sorry too,’ said a voice the Battle Agents knew only too well.

  The soft yellow glow in the room suddenly changed to a fierce white as a bank of floodlights flared. The Battle Agents shielded their eyes, squinting into the glare, and could just make out the diminutive form of Horace Horologe.

  ‘Dreadfully sorry, in fact. But I’m afraid I can’t allow you to go anywhere.’

  THIRTEEN

  Horace Horologe stepped from the bright light and swaggered towards the Battle Agents. Ten guardroids with weapons followed a few paces behind.

  ‘Well, I am impressed,’ he said. ‘You’ve unmasked this little operation most effectively. I didn’t think you were up to it, frankly. My informant had led me to believe that Omega Squad was useless. Not so, I see. You got in and got the facts with impressive efficiency. Of course you haven’t actually cracked the core purpose of the operation, but you’ve discovered enough that I’m afraid I’ll have to terminate your contract, if you know what I mean.’

  He sliced his finger across his neck, and the guardroids readied their weapons. At once Nine, Five and Four pressed the Emergency Buttons on their Battle Watches. But Horace only laughed.

  ‘Don’t bother calling for help. This room is protected by a Scramble Ray; your emergency messages will only bounce back. Besides, I suspect Juanita will have enough on her plate at the moment without having to worry about you as well. And don’t expect Alpha Agent One to come to the rescue either.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ Nine demanded. ‘What have you done with him?’

  ‘I haven’t laid a finger on your knight in shining armour. I just think he might not be having much of a bon voyage at the moment, if you know what I mean. But then again neither are you.’

  The Time Broker shook his head with mock pity, clicking his tongue.

  ‘Nothing personal, I assure you. In fact I’ve developed a begrudging respect for Omega Squad in the brief time we’ve been acquainted. But, unfortunately, you’ve got in the way of those who want you out of the way. Simple as that, really.’

  ‘You mean Dr Vandakrol?’ snapped Nine.

  ‘Good heavens no. The doc is only a minor player in the overall scheme. He takes his orders from those higher up, who in turn take orders from higher still, and so on. The real powers are far above us mere mortals. I thought I made that clear last time we talked. They’re like the Greek gods, Olympian puppet masters dangling us in the game of life, pulling our strings when it suits, or cutting them. We all just do as we’re told in this life.’

  ‘You might,’ said Five angrily. ‘But we’re not slaves yet. We’re still free to think what we want. You can’t take that from us.’

  ‘Brave words indeed. What a pity they’ll be among your last.’

  ‘What are you going to do with us?’ said Five.

  Horace chuckled, walked across to one of the cylindrical machines not in operation and pressed a green button on its side. The cylinder hummed into action, its glass cone opening up and tilting back.

  ‘We’ll slot you in here feet first and close the lid. You’ll be restrained at once, so don’t bother struggling.’

  ‘What will happen to us then?’ said Nine.

  ‘I can tell you,’ said Four. ‘The reverse of what’s happening to Cleopatra and the others. They’re being converted from digital blueprints to organic beings. We’ll be going the other way. You’re going to digitalise us, aren’t you?’

  ‘Very good,’ said the Time Broker. ‘You are a smart cookie. Yes, digitalised – converted into a lot of ones and zeros.’

  ‘You creep,’ Nine shouted, and rushed at Horace Horologe. Three guardroids pounced at once. She just managed to clip the Time Broker’s jaw with her right hand before they grabbed her.

  ‘Lucky for you I’m the forgiving type,’ Horace hissed, nursing his bruised chin, his face close to Nine’s once the guardroids had restrained her. ‘In fact I’m so forgiving I’ll give you the honour of going first.’ He snapped his fingers at the guards. ‘Put her away.’

  Nine struggled wildly, kicking and punching, but the guardroids lifted her up and forced her into the cylinder, arms stuffed down at her side. She wriggled and squirmed, but the cylinder held her tightly.

  Four and Five were unable to do a thing to help Nine; they were surrounded by guards.

  ‘And the others,’ Horace ordered, activating two more machines. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

  Five and Four were forced into cylinders as well, completely unable to move.

  ‘You won’t get away with this,’ shouted 005. ‘Professor Perdu will —’

  ‘Your professor will do precisely nothing,’ scoffed the Time Broker. ‘Because that’s precisely what she is: nothing, a non-event, a spent force. I know for a fact that she’ll soon be demoted, if she hasn’t been already. She’ll no longer be in charge of Operation Battle Book. Indeed, she’ll be lucky to land a job as a basic research assistant in some provincial backwater by the time they finish with her. Bottom line: don’t hold your breath waiting for Juanita to save your skin. She’ll be struggling to save her own.’

  Horace Horologe pulled an ornate fob watch from his waistcoat pocket.

  ‘Dear me, how time flies when you’re enjoying yourself. I’m afraid it really is beddie-byes for you kiddies. I’m going to have to put you to sleep. It will all be very slow and peaceful, rest assured, a thoroughly pleasant way to go.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ said Four. ‘Don’t we get last requests? It only seems fair.’

  ‘Oh very well. If you must. But be quick about it. Come along, who’s first?’

  ‘Well there’s one thing I’d like to know,’ Four continued. ‘Have you managed to create a person from the past yet?’

  ‘Yes we have. Not quite a person as we think of it, but close enough, almost indistinguishable from real flesh and blood.’

  ‘Where is this person?’

  ‘That’s a second question, but I’ll answer it. He escaped actually, and wandered the streets of Futura for a little while, a kind of vagabond, out of place and time. He’s back with us now, though, safely under lock and key.’

  ‘Who is he?’ Four persisted.

  ‘Now, now, mustn’t be greedy.’ Horace shook a finger at Four and turned to Five.

  ‘You said we hadn’t actually
worked out what the core purpose of all this is,’ said 005. ‘What is that core purpose?’

  ‘Sorry, but it really would take far too long to explain. Suffice to say that the body conversions are only a sideline. What we’re really working on here are the two big fundamentals – Time and Energy. Think about that as you’re floating off into the Never Never.’ Horace turned to BA009. ‘Which leaves you, my dear.’

  ‘I dunno,’ Nine mumbled. ‘I guess if I’m going to die, I’d like to go out Cleopatra-style.’

  ‘Sorry, but I don’t have a cobra headdress or a mountain of jewellery on hand.’

  ‘I know. But maybe I could have my arms freed to lay across my front like her? At least that way I can die with dignity, like a queen.’

  Horace Horologe laughed. ‘How touchingly noble. But sorry, no can do. It’s for your own safety, of course. You see, if your hands were free you just might be tempted to try to break the cone. It’s very tough, a carbon crystal composite, but also rather brittle. On the off-chance you did succeed, the cone could shatter and all those nasty splinters of glass could make a frightful mess of your tender skin.’ Horace patted her on the cheek. ‘Nice try.’

  ‘Oh shut it, you slime!’ snapped Nine.

  ‘Now that’s one request I can grant you.’ The Time Broker flipped the cone shut on BA009. ‘Sorry to have to put you out of action, Amoeba Squad,’ he added, shutting the lids on Four and Five as well. ‘Sweet dreams.’

  He then marched out of the room, followed by the guardroids.

  A moment later the fierce floodlights dimmed and the room was again bathed in a yellow glow.

  The three Battle Agents waited in the gloomy silence, held tight in their cylinders. They could still see each other, although the cone-like lids were slowly becoming cloudy. Before too long they would be all alone in their coffin cells.

  A fine mist filtered into the cylinders, and soon a strange drowsiness began to descend upon the agents.

  ‘We must stay awake,’ BA004 shouted, his voice heavily muffled by the cylinder. ‘This is the sleepiness Horologe talked about. Once it takes hold, we’re finished.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Five shouted back. ‘Did you hear that, Nine?’

  There was no word from Nine. The boys glanced across and saw that her head was drooped forward.

  ‘Maz!’ Four screamed as loudly as he could. ‘Stay with us.’

  ‘Wake up!’ Five shouted as well.

  Nine lifted her head. ‘Give me a break, you two,’ she yelled back. ‘Talk is not going to get us anywhere. I’m trying to free my hands.’

  In fact she was only trying to free her right hand, the bionic one. It was jammed tight in an awkward way against her leg; the more she struggled to free it, the tighter the cylinder squeezed.

  ‘So are we,’ replied Five. ‘But it’s pointless.’

  ‘Maybe for you,’ Nine shouted. ‘But I don’t give up that easily.’

  ‘She’s right, Five,’ 004 called out. ‘Remember the arm wrestle? If anyone can get her hands free from these cylinders, she can. Go for it, Nine!’

  BA009 focused all her thoughts and energy on freeing her bionic arm. In a series of tiny move­ments she gradually managed to edge it around until it was pointing upwards. Then, using every ounce of strength in its energised muscle fibres, she began forcing it higher.

  ‘Getting there,’ she grunted. ‘Almost.’

  The mist was growing thicker, the drowsiness heavier, and each inch closer to freedom sapped Nine’s energy to its limit. But she pushed on, buoyed by the shouts of encouragement from Four and Five.

  ‘Nearly,’ she squealed with her last shred of strength, and then: ‘Yes!’

  Nine thrust her arm into the air with a victory salute and the boys cheered back.

  But they weren’t free yet. The cylinder lid still had to be broken. Nine could barely keep her eyes open, exhausted by the struggle and almost overcome by the mist.

  ‘You can do it!’ Four and Five yelled, both struggling to stay awake as well.

  Nine’s cylinder lid was now clouded over, so she couldn’t see the others. But their shouts somehow gave her renewed energy. She drew back her arm, clenched her fist tight, and rammed it into the lid with all her might.

  The cone shattered, shards of glass exploded into the room, and the mist sprayed out. Nine took a deep breath, leaned across and flicked off the green switch. The cylinder immediately hummed to a stop and released her from its powerful grip. She clambered out.

  But at the same time an alarm was triggered in the hallway. Lights flashed as Nine raced to the other cylinders, switched them off and flipped open their lids. Four and Five were dazed, but they dragged themselves out.

  ‘Legend!’ they both shouted, slapping Nine on the back.

  But even as the words left their lips, a troop of guardroids burst into the room armed with StenVoid 320s.

  ‘Do not move,’ one of them commanded in his electronic voice.

  But then the next guard said: ‘On the ground.’

  ‘Hands in the air,’ a third shouted.

  ‘Make up your minds,’ yelled Four. ‘On the ground. Don’t move. Hands up. Which is it?’

  The first guardroid strode forwards and thumped Four hard in the stomach with the butt of his weapon. ‘Silence, human!’ he snarled.

  Four almost crumpled to his knees with the pain. He could barely catch his breath.

  ‘You okay?’ Nine whispered, trying to reach him but another guard warned her off.

  ‘And I thought we were going to get out of this place,’ Four muttered.

  ‘Silence!’ the first guardroid shouted, and struck Four again.

  ‘We are going to get out,’ whispered Five. ‘Don’t look now, but help has just arrived.’

  FOURTEEN

  Four straightened slightly to see that TEX had entered the room and was sneaking up behind the guardroids. He had an Electro-Mag Disintegrator trained on them. Under normal circumstances he would’ve obliterated the guardroids with a sweeping burst from the wave-weapon. But Four, Five and Nine were in his line of fire as well, so a different strategy was needed.

  The super soldier had a couple of PUGs – Proton Ultimator Guns – tiny hand pistols that delivered accelerated proton blasts, each discharge enough to put the average android out of action. He held up the weapons, nodding to Five and Nine. Then he winked at Four.

  BA004 knew what he had to do. He immediately created a diversion, coughing, spluttering and clutch­ing at his chest. ‘You’ve broken my rib,’ he groaned, falling to his knees in front of the guardroid who’d struck him. ‘Help me, please. I can’t breathe.’

  The guardroid didn’t hesitate. He kicked out with his solid metal boot. But Four was ready. He ducked sideways and the android missed. His leg went high in the air, throwing him off balance. Four sprang at once, grabbing the android’s leg and flipping him onto his back.

  ‘Catch and drop!’ TEX shouted and threw the PUGs to Nine and Five.

  At the same time, TEX fell to the floor and rolled across it, hammering up at the guardroids with his EMD as he went. He fried six on the spot in a splatter of sparks and flames.

  The Battle Agents finished off the remaining guardroids. BA004 seized the StenVoid 320 from the guardroid he’d downed and reduced him to a mess of metal and plastic with a quick blast before turning the weapon’s awesome power on another. Five and Nine PUGged one each, and the whole operation was finished. It had taken just over a minute.

  An eerie silence followed, accentuated by the cacophony that had preceded it. The Time Troopers stood and gazed around at the mess. Everywhere they looked there were bits of metal and plastic, chunks of sizzling circuitry, and all manner of artificial body parts. And hanging over it all was the sickening smell of fried android.

  BA005 broke the silence. ‘Who said Omega Squad was out of action?’

  ‘I think it was Horace Horologe,’ Four replied.

  ‘Well Mr Horologe has some cleaning up to do,’ sai
d Nine.

  ‘And some explaining to his masters,’ added Five. ‘I’d hate to be in his shoes.’

  ‘So what now?’ asked TEX, deactivating his EMD and slipping it into his back holster. ‘Time to exit?’

  ‘I guess so,’ said Five. ‘I think Prof will be happy with what we’ve uncovered here.’

  ‘Then again,’ said Four with a glint in his eyes. ‘We could make her a whole lot happier.’

  ‘Uh oh.’ Nine shook her head. ‘I feel one of your bright ideas coming on.’

  ‘Hey, it’s not that bright. In fact I’m surprised one of you hasn’t suggested it already.’ Four walked over to the cylinder containing Cleopatra. ‘Why don’t we take all these digital blueprints back to HQ so Prof can upload them into their proper Battle Books?’

  ‘Oh sure,’ scoffed Nine. ‘Easy as.’

  ‘Well, it can’t be that hard.’ Four picked up the Carry Capsule lying next to the machine. ‘Queen Cleo came here in this; she can go back in it.’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting the small matter of technical procedures we need to know?’

  ‘Nothing we can’t handle. I mean, Horologe put the energy blueprints into the machines, and we’ve already shown ourselves to be smarter than him. I think we can work out how to extract them.’

  BA004 walked around the cylinder, checking dials and switches, screens and flashing lights. He inspected everything closely as if searching for something in particular, even getting down on his hands and knees and feeling around the base of the machine.

  ‘Eureka!’ he cried eventually. ‘I think this is what we want.’ Down low at back of the machine was a tube the same diameter as the Carry Capsule. ‘I could be mistaken,’ Four said, holding the tube in one hand and the capsule in the other. ‘But I bet these fit together.’

  Four grinned up at the others and promptly screwed the two parts together. Cleopatra’s machine beeped three times and began humming.