Martin King and the Prison of Ice (Martin King Series)

by James McGovern

  DESCRIPTION

  The Earth is safe from Moonstone, but now the real monsters are coming…

  Martin, Darcy and Tommy are just like any other teenagers—except that they have superpowers.

  A fleet of Axis Lord ships is flying to Earth on a mission of destruction. Martin and his friends must help to raise an army against the aliens. Two ancient prophecies are soon to be fulfilled, and a new galactic empire is waiting to be born…

  But who is the enigmatic Mulciber, who seems to know so much about Martin? And what is the mysterious Prison of Ice?

  This is the second book in the acclaimed Martin King series. The first book has been described by reviewers as a "hit" and a "majestic masterpiece".

  Series Reading Order:

  Martin King and the Space Angels

  Martin King and the Prison of Ice

  Martin King and the Universe Room (Release date TBA)

  COPYRIGHT

  © 2014 James McGovern

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Acknowledgements

  PROLOGUE

  The ten most important aliens in the Blue galaxy were sitting at a long table, facing a hologram of Earth. The hall had a white arched roof and grey stone pillars. Anova, a short Axis Lord with tiny eyes, stood up to face the rest of the council.

  “In conclusion,” said Anova, “now that the City of Serenity has been breached we have no choice but to terminate the entire project. Although the satellite is still in place, it can only be a matter of time before the rebels disable it. We must act before it is too late.”

  Anova sat down, and there was a general murmur of agreement. Nymon, the oldest member of the council, sighed, stroking the hem of his striped green robe.

  “It seems rather extreme,” he said. “And yet, I suppose we have no choice.”

  “I agree with Anova,” said Daniz. “If we do not purge the planet, the Axis Lords from the city could assemble a force to threaten us.”

  “My husband is right,” said Ilyssa. “It is distasteful, certainly, but unavoidable. We must destroy the Earth.”

  “I disagree.”

  All members of the council looked up at Prince Agamon. The prince was wearing a gold crown and a scarlet robe. He was the most important member of the council—the only one with royal blood.

  “Excuse me?” said Anova.

  “I have been to Earth,” said Prince Agamon. “Although the humans are, admittedly, less advanced than the Axis Lords, they are still a civilised and intelligent race. I argue that it would be immoral to destroy them.”

  Anova smiled. “It would be immoral to spare the Earth. The rebels pose a threat to the security of the entire Axis belt.”

  “Listen to me,” said Agamon. “The Axis Lords have committed many atrocities, but wiping out the Earth would make our name even more infamous. It would be an act of genocide, which is recognised as an offence of the greatest severity by the Universal Justice Federation.”

  “We are not under the jurisdiction of the Universal Justice Federation,” said Nymon quietly. “You are talking a little like my son, Falcon. And you know what happened to him. Please let that be a gentle warning.”

  Agamon sighed. “Our Chronicle strictly forbids the taking of an innocent life.”

  “I hardly think that primitive life is covered by that decree!” said Anova, smiling again.

  Agamon resisted the urge to grab the tiny man by the throat.

  “Why do you care for the humans?” said Orbin slowly. Orbin was a thin, black-haired Axis Lord with weary eyes. “Why does their fate matter to you?”

  “The fate of all sentient creatures matters to me,” replied Agamon coldly.

  “But the humans are savages,” Orbin went on.

  “Even if that was true,” said Agamon, “what about the millions of Axis Lords that you are planning to wipe out?”

  “They are criminals!” said Anova.

  “That’s not true.” Agamon clenched his fists. “The majority of the escaped prisoners were born into captivity. It was their ancestors that committed crimes, not them.”

  “They committed a crime by escaping from the City of Serenity,” said Nymon. “So our actions are perfectly legal.”

  “Your argument is as ridiculous as it is abhorrent,” said Agamon.

  “Well,” said Nymon loudly. “I see no reason for further debate. We will vote. All in favour of the destruction of Earth—please raise your hand. Of course, a unanimous vote would be preferred.”

  All of the Axis Lords except Agamon raised their hands.

  “All those against the destruction of Earth—raise your hand.”

  Prince Agamon straightened his crown. Although he was the only royal member of the council, he could not override the decision of the majority. The decision had already been made. But he still raised his hand.

  “Very well,” said Nymon. “It is agreed. The Earth will be destroyed. It is the only practical option, as I’m sure any sensible person will agree.”

  Prince Agamon stood up slowly.

  “You leave me with no choice,” he said. “I hereby declare my abdication of the title Prince of the Axis Lords. From now on I will stand alone.”

  There was a shocked silence. Agamon tore off his red robe and cast it, along with his crown and sceptre, onto the stone floor. He turned to face the council, the hologram of Earth reflecting in his purple eyes.

  “And I will defend the humans with my last breath.”

  *

  The British Prime Minister was sitting in his study at 10 Downing Street, playing with a Newton’s cradle that one of his relatives had bought him last Christmas. It had been a very long day. One of his Cabinet ministers had resigned after becoming implicated in a tax scandal, and he had discovered that one of his other ministers was having an affair with a third minister. The Prime Minister put his head in his hands.

  “I don’t know why I ever wanted this job,” he muttered.

  At that moment, a man with white hair and purple eyes appeared in his study.

  “Good evening,” said the man. “My name is Agamon. May I sit down?”

  The Prime Minister tried to reply, but he could only seem to produce a spluttering sound.

  “Thank you.” Agamon sat down. He was wearing some sort of costume—an old-fashioned frock coat and pinstriped trousers.

  “Now,” said Agamon. “We have much to discuss.”

  “Look here,” the Prime Minister began, but he stopped.

  What was he supposed to say? How dare you appear in my office like that?

  “We have…” The Prime Minister paused, selecting his wor
ds carefully. “We have… protocols for this kind of thing. If you really are… what I think you are… alien, I mean.”

  The Prime Minister put his glasses on, as if to see the visitor more clearly. “Are you?” he continued. “Are you an alien?”

  Agamon nodded. “I am.”

  The Prime Minister’s heart sank.

  “I was formerly known as Prince Agamon of the Axis Lords,” the alien said. “That is, until a few hours ago, when I relinquished my royal title.”

  “Why did you do that?” said the Prime Minister.

  “Because—and there is no easy way to say this—my people plan to destroy your planet.”

  “Destroy?” said the Prime Minister weakly.

  Agamon nodded. “Destroy.”

  “Oh…”

  “But don’t worry!” Agamon added. “I have a plan. Now, how easy would it be for you to start preparing some missiles?”

  “Missiles?”

  Agamon nodded. “Well, of course! My people have the most advanced weapons in the universe. If you gather some missiles I can increase their destructive power.”

  “People will notice if we start preparing weapons. We would need to have some sort of reason, something to tell the people.”

  “Why not tell them the truth?” said Agamon.

  The Prime Minister put his hands on the Newton’s cradle, stopping the motion. He shook his head slowly.

  “No. We would need to come up with some sort of cover. I could get on the phone to the Russians. We could arrange something—pretend there’s some kind of war on the horizon.”

  “There is a war on the horizon,” said Agamon.

  “I mean a human war,” said the Prime Minister. “We can’t just go round telling everyone that it’s aliens!”

  Agamon frowned. “But the humans already know about aliens, surely? What about the storms last year? What about Moonstone—the destruction of all those landmarks? Her broadcasts were televised. Everyone saw her.”

  “Yes, well, the Alien Defence Party has been giving us a lot of grief about that. A man called Alastair Weathersby started the ADP as a protest party after all that business. They’re always on the TV… you know the kind of thing. ‘Britain is overcrowded already without aliens coming over as well. We need to act before an invasion of alien immigrants’, and so on.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to say this, but the Alien Defence Party is right. And it’s happening now—the Axis Lords are on their way. But they do not want to invade your planet. They want to wipe it out.”

  The Prime Minister shook his head, trying to collect his thoughts.

  “Why do your people want to destroy us?” he asked.

  “There is a prison on Earth called the City of Serenity,” Agamon explained. “It is located on an invisible island. Two years ago, the defences were disabled, and all of the prisoners escaped.”

  “Escaped? Where did they escape to?”

  “There is a satellite orbiting the planet that prevents the aliens from leaving this world.”

  “So they are still on Earth?”

  Agamon nodded. “Yes.”

  “How many?”

  “Over a million.”

  The Prime Minister rubbed his eyes. “But… why haven’t they been spotted? How could a million aliens hide on the planet without being noticed?”

  “Axis Lords are remarkably clever creatures. The ex-prisoners are currently living within several invisible camps scattered around the world.”

  “I see. So why don’t your people just leave them alone?”

  “The Axis Council is frightened. They are worried that the Axis Lords on Earth will raise a force to rival their supremacy—this is ridiculous, of course, but they are paranoid. Their paranoia will destroy the Earth unless we act.”

  The alien slammed his fist down on the desk. “Now, will you help me to save your planet?”

  The Prime Minister paused. He was a tired man, but he was also a good man. He knew there was only thing he could do. He nodded, feeling a little faint.

  “Missiles, you said? Well, I’d better get on the phone to the Kremlin…”

  CHAPTER 1: THE COINCIDENCE MACHINE

  Martin and Darcy were flying through the clear night sky, lit by the pale light of a full moon. The air was cold, and they clutched each other tightly. They soared through the dark night; the whole of London lied beneath them like a moving map.

  Martin King and Darcy Williams were no ordinary teenagers. Over a year ago, an alien called Falcon had visited the Earth to give them both special powers. He had given Martin the ability to fly, and Darcy the power to create and manipulate fire. They had used their powers to save the Earth, and since then they had enjoyed a peaceful, uneventful few months. But sometimes they needed a little excitement. At those times, they would fly.

  “I love you, Martin,” said Darcy.

  Martin grinned. He never got tired of hearing those words. For many years, he had longed for Darcy to be his girlfriend. It still seemed almost too good to be true that he was actually going out with her.

  “I love you too, Darcy.”

  Martin and Darcy were flying high over the Thames. They descended until they were hovering right above the dark river. Darcy clutched her boyfriend tightly. Their feet were just a few centimetres from the top of the water.

  “I wonder how Tommy’s getting on,” Darcy shouted.

  Tommy was Martin’s cousin and their best friend. He had a superpower too. A few days ago, he had flown to Italy to visit a girl. It was strange not having him around. Martin had never realised before how much he relied on Tommy’s friendship.

  “I’m sure he’s doing fine,” said Martin, grinning. “Oh, I booked the train tickets for Friday.”

  “I forgot about that,” said Darcy.

  A few weeks ago, Martin had received a letter from an academic at Oxford University called Dr Ackerman:

  Dear Martin, Darcy, and Tommy,

  I trust that you are well. There is a limit to what I can write in a letter, but let it suffice for me to say that I knew Falcon.

  I must speak with you urgently. If it is convenient, please come down to see me at my rooms on Thursday 25th August. Kindly reply to this letter if you can make it.

  Yours most sincerely,

  Dr Peter Ackerman

  Fellow in History

  Xavier College, Oxford.

  Martin had been intrigued by the letter, and so he had arranged for them both to travel to Oxford.

  “What do you reckon this Ackerman wants to talk to us about?” said Darcy.

  Martin shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably the Earth’s in danger and we’re the only ones who can save it.”

  Darcy grinned. “Yeah, I suppose that sort of thing does happen to us now.” She paused. “Martin…”

  “Yeah?”

  “Kiss me again.”

  *

  On Friday, Martin and Darcy headed to the station and caught a train to Oxford. When they arrived, they got off the train and made their way towards the college. It was a hot day, and the city was bathed in golden light. They followed the directions on Darcy’s phone and eventually came to the main entrance. Xavier College was one of the constituent colleges of the University of Oxford. Martin had always planned to apply to Oxford once he had finished his A Levels, but he had never actually visited the city, so he had welcomed the chance to visit when he’d got the letter from Dr Ackerman.

  A tall, thin man was smoking a pipe outside the gate. He was wearing a tweed jacket. The man smiled when he saw them.

  “Martin and Darcy!” He shook their hands. “My name’s Dr Ackerman—good to meet you at last! But where is your friend?”

  “He’s in Italy,” said Martin, shrugging apologetically.

  “Well, it doesn’t really matter. Come on, we have lots to talk about.”

  Dr Ackerman led Martin and Darcy through the main entrance of Xavier College and into the quad. It was a small, green, pleasant area—the air felt refreshingly stil
l and calm.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve been here before?” said the man.

  Martin shook his head.

  “No, no, well this is Lincoln Quad, and my rooms are just over here.”

  But Martin wasn’t looking where Dr Ackerman was pointing. He had noticed something strange about the grass in Lincoln Quad. Martin crouched down to inspect it more closely. The grass was covered with thousands of four-leaf clovers.

  “Ah, you noticed the clovers,” said Dr Ackerman. “Well, more about that later. We have things of greater importance to discuss first. Come with me.”

  *

  “Make yourselves comfortable.”

  Dr Ackerman’s study was quite large, and very messy. The room was strewn with half-full mugs of coffee, books, and piles of paper. Martin and Darcy sat down while Dr Ackerman made them a cup of tea. Then he sat down to face them.

  “Now, before I start, you might want to take out your Truthful Eye,” said Dr Ackerman.

  Falcon had given Martin a monocle called a Truthful Eye that allowed him to see through disguises. He took it from his pocket and looked at Dr Ackerman through it. Through the monocle, the man’s hair was white, and he had purple eyes. Martin knew what this meant—Dr Ackerman was an alien.

  “Yes,” said the man. “I’m an Axis Lord. That’s how I knew Falcon. I know all about what happened last year—I know that you saved the world from Moonstone.” Dr Ackerman paused. “And I need your help.”

  He picked up a heavy book and began to flick through it. “I specialise in Scottish History,” he said. “In particular, I’m interested in the Wars of Scottish Independence. I don’t suppose you know anything about that period?”

  He looked at them hopefully, but quickly saw their blank faces.

  “No? It doesn’t matter. Anyway, there was a battle in 1306 called the Battle of Methven. The battle took place on the 12th June of that year.” He showed Martin a page of the book. “But look.”