The Girl Who Stole A Planet (Amy Armstrong Book 1)
Page 13
“What game is this?” she asked, glancing between Amy and the earth-shaking flares lighting up the sky.
“It’s a gift,” said Amy.
She turned and sprinted down the street after the receding shapes of Philip and Sunflower, and caught up to them at the back of a crush of people in a narrow alley.
“Are you two trying to ditch me?”
ƒ“Absolutely not,” said Sunflower. “We were … scouting ahead. That’s it!”
The cat jumped onto Amy’s shoulder, and she felt the soft pressure of his paws on top of her floppy hat.
“Hey! What’s going on?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out. These ignorant humans are stopped for some reason.”
Philip cleared his throat. “Ixnay on the alkingtay,” he whispered. “People are beginning to stare.”
“I hope they’ve seen a cat before. Wait––do they eat cats around here? Is it London or China that does that?”
Amy pulled him off her head and held him at her chest. “Both, if you don’t keep it quiet!”
“These people care about me when there’s an inspector shooting killer laser beams at them?”
Philip huddled close to Amy and the cat, trying to shield them from staring eyes.
“I know what you’re saying, old stick, but humans are quite good at ignoring the obvious.”
Sunflower nodded. “I believe that completely.”
A flurry of shouts came from behind Amy, and the crowd shoved her forward. Amy held Sunflower with one arm and pulled up her baggy trousers with the other.
“Great! We’re packed like sardines and I’ll die covered in cat hair,” she said. “Did you see what’s blocking things up ahead?”
“Nothing but other humans in dark blue uniforms and tall hats,” said Sunflower. “Is that the cat-eating squad?”
“I hope you find out, one way or another.”
“Friends, my sight is clear now,” said Philip. “And I see the only way out of our troubles.”
Sunflower nodded. “I know exactly what you’re thinking––let the inspector kill all the humans and hide under their bodies!”
Philip pointed at the nearby wall. “We must go up!”
“Are you sure you can see?” asked Amy. “It’s at least thirty feet up to the roof.”
“That’s nothing,” said Philip, with a laugh. “I’ve scaled higher places in Yorkshire. One time cousin Tubby bet that I couldn’t climb the spire of a church in his village. That was the day after I climbed up to his window and––”
“Hey! It’s the geezer what nicked our gear!” yelled a male voice behind Philip.
A pair of bare-chested men pushed through the crowd.
“It’s those two thugs,” hissed Amy.
“Come on, then!”
With Sunflower clinging to a shoulder, Amy followed Philip through the crowd to the side of the alley. The bricks in the wall might have been red at some point, but were black and crusty now. Amy bet the wall was covered in green mold and soot and other nasty things. Philip grabbed a window ledge, pulled himself up, and began to climb.
Sunflower stirred behind Amy’s neck. “What’s the hold up? Go!”
“I’ll tell you! One, my pants are going to fall off. Two, I’m wearing a skirt.”
Sunflower sighed. “A pair of humans are about to kill you, the inspector blowing apart the city is less than a hundred meters away, and you’re worried about someone seeing your underwear in the dark. Drop those pants and climb!”
Amy shucked off the oversized trousers and grabbed onto an edge of brick. She climbed as fast and carefully as she could, hand over hand after Philip, who amazingly had almost made it to the top. Moving from window to window, ledge to ledge, Amy climbed the precarious face of the building. She’d done this kind of thing before, but not with a killer robot and grown men in pursuit.
“Watch out, Amy!”
Philip waved at her from the roof. Amy glanced down to see the two half-naked men clambering up the brick wall. She stuck her leg out, shook her foot, and dropped a leather boot square in the face of the nearest climber. He plunged fifteen feet into the crowd below, causing a storm of jeers and angry screams.
“Want the other one?” yelled Amy.
“Nice one,” Sunflower murmured from her shoulder.
The second boot missed, but it was just as well. With all his weight to balance and thick fingers, the other thug climbed like a pig compared to Amy, who was sure-footed without the clumsy boots.
Near the roof Philip grabbed Amy’s hand and pulled her up. Sunflower jumped off her shoulders with a gleeful shout.
“That was fun!”
The air was gray and misty on the roof and smelled of coal. Philip had collected a few roof tiles, and he and Amy dropped them on the heads of the men still trying to climb up the wall. Amy’s first shot smacked into the second thug’s bare head, and she clapped her hands.
“You’re good at this,” said Philip, and smiled.
A sapphire beam flashed across his face.
“Target acquired,” said a voice like an aluminum can being shredded.
The silver orb of the inspector flew through the columns of chimney smoke, its tentacles waving madly only fifty feet from the teenagers.
“Run!” yelled Sunflower, and followed his own advice.
Amy and Philip sprinted across the slate tiles after the cat as crimson beams tore through the air, exploding brick and wood and turning the rooftops into a horrible, fiery apocalypse.
Betsy trotted under a wooden cart and collapsed. The dog panted with effort and his long tongue drooped from his jaws.
“Why do they have to run so fast?” he gasped.
“Query,” said the mechanical voice from a tiny speaker on Betsy’s backpack. “Do you wish for an increase in velocity?”
“No! It’s dangerous on those rooftops, and I don’t want them to fall. Slow down and shoot behind them.”
“Standing order is not to harm target.”
Betsy sighed. “That’s why I said to shoot behind them.”
He wished for a moment that he could’ve switched places with Nick, who was supervising the cleaning and refit of the Lady’s personal ship, the White Star. He always hated sitting in one place for too long, though, and the chance to demat with an inspector drone was an opportunity any operator would treasure for the rest of his life, especially when it was a personal request from the Lady. But in this maze of thousands upon thousands of dangerous humans, Betsy hoped that the rest of his life would last longer than the next few minutes.
“Targets descending. Approaching ground level.”
Betsy squinted at the video feed in front of his eye. The two teenagers and Sunflower scrambled down a stepped series of roofs and landed safely on the street.
“They need to go west,” murmured Betsy. “Rotate one-eighty. Target that human structure.”
The video from the inspector’s camera blurred. Red lines in the screen highlighted a brick building with the sign, “Wilson’s Chemical Supply.”
“Confirm structure?” asked the monotone voice of the inspector drone.
“Yes.”
“Nitrates detected. Confirm structure?”
Betsy groaned. “Confirm structure! Ten second blast!”
The tiny screen flashed white and the street shook with a mighty boom. A hot, sulfurous breeze ruffled Betsy’s fur. Beams of charred wood and chunks of brick thumped on the cart and the street outside.
“Good gravy,” barked Betsy. “Switch to starlight mode!”
A wobbling green and yellow fire covered the screen. The supply building was now a deep pit of smoke and flame.
“I didn’t mean to do that! Is Sunflower okay? I mean … switch back to the target.”
The camera rotated to the image of two humans and a cat lying prone on the cobblestone.
Betsy squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head violently.
“Oh no! I’ve done it, I’ve done it! I’ve
killed them.”
“Targets are not damaged. Proceeding northwest on Middlesex.”
On the video feed, Philip and Amy picked up Sunflower and slowly shrank as they ran down the street and away from the camera.
“Thank the Lady,” breathed Betsy.
“The Lady is great and glorious and I am grateful for every second she lives.”
Betsy growled. “Not you! I was talking to myself.”
“I have received damage to my servo casings and now operate at ninety percent efficiency, if you are done taking a doggie break,” said the metallic voice of the drone.
“Disable snark mode,” barked Betsy. “Follow the targets on a thirty-meter leash!”
Feet ran past the cart. Betsy tensed his muscles, hesitating on whether to leave. The drone would soon fly out of range if he didn’t run after it, and even if it didn’t, he might lose track of Sunflower.
“Blast and double blast,” he said, crawling out into the street.
The street shivered from a pair of detonations and a fiery mushroom cloud turned the night orange.
“Double blast confirmed,” said the drone.
Betsy rolled his eyes and ran toward the fire. “This thing is just making fun of me.”
“Hey,” yelled a boy. “That mutt’s got something on his back!”
Betsy ran as fast as he could from the rapid footsteps, but the heavy transceiver on his back slowed him down. The terrier felt himself lifted from the cobblestone by three giggling children.
“What’s it got on? Is it a messenger or something?”
“Good doggie!”
“What’s it running from?”
“The fire, stupid. Just like us!”
“Nah. He was running to the fire!”
Betsy barked and snapped at the young children, but they held him tight in their grip and pulled off the silver headset. In desperation, Betsy swiped the quick-release buckle at his chest and squirmed down to the street and away from the gang of kids.
“He’s getting away!” yelled a boy.
“It don’t matter,” said another, and held up the pack. “Here’s a few crowns, I warrant!”
Betsy scampered toward the flames and the last position of the drone, wondering what he was going to do now.
=====INSPECTOR 047 LOG TRAFFIC=====
013209 SNARK MODE DISABLED
013209 PURSUE TARGET@BEARING 301 ALLOW 30M DO NOT ENGAGE
013327 FIRING DOUBLE SHOT@BEARING 93 CONTACT POSITIVE
013401 QUERY OPERATOR, NO RESPONSE
013431 QUERY OPERATOR, NO RESPONSE
013501 QUERY OPERATOR, NO RESPONSE
013531 QUERY OPERATOR, NO RESPONSE
013615 TARGET ENTERING SUBSTRUCTURE THOR SIGNAL OBSCURED
013716 QUERY OPERATOR, NO RESPONSE
013746 QUERY OPERATOR, NO RESPONSE
013816 QUERY OPERATOR, NO RESPONSE
013846 QUERY OPERATOR, NO RESPONSE
013903 REVERTING TO SYSTEM DEFAULTS, TRANSFER POWER TO RECEIVER
013904 TRACE SIGNAL ACQUIRED@BEARING 279, PURSUIT ENGAGED
013905 SNARK MODE ENABLED
013905 STUPID DOG
=====END TRAFFIC=====
Amy slid down the almost-vertical stone wall, picking up speed as she neared the bottom. Philip caught her in his arms before she hit the gravel.
“Thanks.” Amy brushed the soot from the back of her skirt. “That could have been a bad case of road rash.”
“What’s road rash?”
Sunflower fell to earth with a spray of tiny gray stones and glared at the teenagers.
“I didn’t see anyone rushing catch ME,” he growled.
Philip shrugged. “Cats always land on their feet. Isn’t that right?”
“The next place I’ll land will be your face. I don’t have to sleep, unlike you monkeys.”
Amy exhaled a long white stream in the cold air, and pulled the sides of her wool jacket tighter.
“Stop fighting, both of you, and run!”
“Wait!” Philip stepped out of his floppy leather boots. “Take them. I insist.”
Amy shook her head. “Your feet are more delicate than mine, I guarantee it.”
She ran after the orange streak of Sunflower, wincing with pain as her feet struck the sharp gravel, but turning her head to hide it. Did they have tetanus in 1889? A more important question––did they have tetanus shots?
This section of the London Underground wasn’t really underground, but a walled ditch thirty feet deep with four railway tracks and gravel at the bottom. The backs of tenement buildings rose several stories above the top, giving anyone standing at the bottom the feeling of being in a brick canyon that smelled of coal and oil.
Amy ran after the cat, giving lots of space to a handful of shadowy figures in filthy rags who tottered along the tracks and stared at the orange glow in the sky.
“Should we watch for a train?” Amy asked Philip, who jogged beside her.
“Why?”
“Um … so we don’t get squashed.”
“Don’t worry. The lines don’t run at night.”
“Why not?”
Philip grinned. “Because nothing good happens after dark. You know that!”
“The story of my life,” said Amy.
The concrete arch of a tunnel curved high above the four railway tracks. Amy slowed to a walk as she entered the shadows and lost the benefit of starlight and the illuminating glow of the fires.
Philip squinted in the darkness. “Where’s that cat?”
“Keep going!” came Sunflower’s voice.
“But we can’t see anything!” yelled Amy.
She heard a feline grumbling. A pair of tiny red circles jiggled left and right in the darkness ahead of them, and Sunflower’s orange-striped head appeared.
“I thought the two of you had your sight back,” he said. “You know, that funny blindness thing.”
Amy rubbed the sole of her foot. “It wasn’t funny! We can see now, just not in the dark.”
“Ra-ther!” said Philip. “We’re not cats.”
“That’s obvious. Well, there’s nothing in this tunnel to see anyway. Keep a hand on the wall to the left, if you have to. If you need foot coverings, Amy, there’s a dead human up ahead.”
“I’m not wearing a dead man’s shoes.”
“Good, because I’m not one hundred percent on whether he’s dead or not. Maybe by the time we get there.”
“This is a barrel of bad pickles if I’ve ever heard of one,” muttered Philip.
Amy followed Sunflower into the darkness, keeping her left hand on the greasy stone wall and wincing with every step. Behind her, the crunch of Philip’s boots on the gravel echoed through the tunnel. After fifty feet the pain was so great that she was forced to stop.
“What is it?” asked Philip.
“Nothing,” said Amy through clenched teeth. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Now look here, Miss Armstrong, I insist that you take my boots. It’s not going to help our cause if you become lame and I have to carry you over my shoulder, is it?”
“I’m not lame. Wait––what’s that? Do you see it?”
An orangered dot glowed in the darkness, but low to the ground like the end of a burning cigarette held by a chain-smoking rabbit. Amy pulled the metal pigtail from her pocket and crept forward.
“Put that thing away,” said Sunflower’s voice. “It’s me.”
He walked forward and Amy noticed a dim red light coming from a point just above the cat’s eyes.
She giggled. “A glow in the dark cat? What else are you hiding under that skin of yours? Nail file? Bottle opener?”
“Why would I need any of those? That’s what dogs are for. This is an emergency beacon in my forehead, not a party trick for your amusement.”
Philip grabbed Amy’s arm. “A body!”
Sunflower swiveled his head. The crimson light glowed on the worn soles of a pair of shoes and legs in rumpled trousers.
“Of course I can,” said Sunflower. “But that doesn’t mean he’s alive.”
“People don’t make sounds when they’re dead!”
The cat sniffed and paused for a moment. “How about, ‘Gurgle, gurgle, why did you land on my head?’ That’s a sound.”
“He’s sleeping, okay?”
Philip helped Amy untie the brown leather shoes and pull them off. A powerful stench boiled from the man’s feet, forcing Amy to cover her nose and mouth.
“Great fishcakes, they stink!”
“My word, you’re right,” said Philip. “Keep in mind this man isn’t the cream of English society. They wouldn’t be caught dead on these tracks, and in such a state.”
“Hey! I thought of a riddle,” said Sunflower. “What’s creamy and English and standing right next to me? You!”
Philip shook his head at the giggling cat. “Perhaps, but I’m not lying by the tracks. Or dead, for that matter.”
“Should we just leave him here? It can’t be safe.”
“I’d say it’s a frequent resting spot for a drunk like him,” said Philip. “And safe as houses.”
The boots were slick inside and may have smelled like rotten fish guts, but they protected Amy’s feet from the gravel. She and Philip ran into the darkness after Sunflower’s bouncing emergency dot.
After a few minutes of jogging a slice of starlight glowed ahead––the other end of the railway tunnel. Beyond lay another canyon of track exposed to the sky and thirty feet below street level.
Amy stopped and caught her breath, her hands on her bare knees.
“What’s the plan here?” she gasped. “Do we have a plan?”
Sunflower’s red dot gleamed up at her. “Of course I have a plan. The plan was to lose the inspector by obscuring my Thor signal. Now that I’ve done that, Philip can run back to his mommy and daddy, and you and I can start walking to Egypt.”
Amy put a hand on her hip. “Seriously?”
“Which part of what I just said is a problem?”
“I thought all three of us would help Phil get back home. It sounds like they’d be very grateful people.” Amy cleared her throat. “With lots of valuable … ‘emotions’ … locked up in safe places and ready for us to liberate.”