by Ian Kidd
IAN’S GANG – THE BAD IAN
BY
IAN KIDD
Ian’s Gang (c) Ian Kidd 2012
CHAPTER ONE
The universe is a very large place.
This is because there is only one universe, as opposed to twelve galaxies, solar systems etc.
The Milky Way is a galaxy.
That galaxy contains only one planet with reasonably intelligent life.
Earth.
That means we can definitely forget about the Milky Way.
Another galaxy is known as the Spiridon Sector, the centre of the Universe as they know it. As far as this galaxy was concerned, any other galaxies with potential allies/enemies were so far away as to be instantly forgettable.
It was just them - and Earth.
Therefore, it was just them.
Therefore, when someone suggested at the Annual Intergalactic Conference with most major planets in attendance - Zerroff, Zakaria, Cat and Matadon, though not the deeply religious - and rather amusingly named Bulgaria - that the dump of the universe, Earth, be made aware of its place in the galaxy and play a part in future conferences, it was girlish giggles all round. (Strangely enough, the other planet not represented at the conference was the war-like world of Assessis, having been banned since the last conference after they almost caused the biggest war ever seen in the Spiridon Sector, until someone realised the star they were all about to go to war over had in fact gone super-nova around two million years previously.) And as the suggestion came from the fifteen year old Prince of Zakaria, Ian Williams (fifteen was considered more than adult), some of the delegates could be seen having a hernia.
The din died down as Ian's father, King Jacob, rose, cast a dark glance at his son and said "I think Ian is absolutely correct."
"Quite so,"
"I agree,"
"Marvellous suggestion."
All the delegates who ten seconds earlier had been ridiculing the teenager for his outrageous suggestion were now openly admiring the boy for his intelligence and integrity.
"What is your full proposal, Ian?" King Jacob inquired.
Ian looked despairingly around the conference hall. All he'd wanted to do was raise a laugh.
The fifteen year old King of Zerroff (a planet unique in the universe for many of its inhabitants possessing mind-powers), Matthew Parker, reclined in his luxurious leather chair in his suite, sipping champagne and eating caviar. "Ah, this is the life," the round-faced, chunky, freckled teenager was clearly enjoying his obviously stressful job.
There was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" Matthew called irritably.
"Robert."
"Oh, come in then," Matthew grumbled.
Robert Stevens, a fifteen year old Zerroffian who as well as being one of a growing number of people who didn't have mind-powers (for some mind-boggling biological reason scientists pretended to understand but didn't) was also Matthew's aide and lawyer, entered the room. Tall, fit, dark-haired and usually quiet, he seemed excited about something. "Matthew," he began.
"Your Majesty," Matthew reprimanded.
"Yeah right, sorry Matthew," Robert continued. "That wet ponce Ian Williams has said Earth should be made a part of the Universal Structure."
"He's an out-and-out moron, isn't he?" Matthew said loftily.
"He's said he could lead some sort of organisation on Earth, to make friends, help local law enforcement and generally get them used to the idea of alien life."
"No idea, has he?" Matthew began sucking down his caviar.
"He's said it could be called "Ian's Gang"."
"What a little egotist he is."
"He named some people from various planets who could be in the gang," Robert said."The delegates all agreed to it, and they have to join up no matter what their rank."
"Ha!" Matthew laughed. "Go on, read out the lucky victims."
"Sarah Vasquez," Robert began, "Philip Vasquez, her brother. Scott Richardson – those three are all law enforcement officers from Cat - Steve Botham from Matadon - "
"That psycho?" Matthew looked up. "Sheesh, that Ian's in for a shock."
"Robert Stevens," Robert continued lamely.
Matthew stared. "You? You?!" he began to laugh. "Oh, Robert," he almost choked, "taking orders from that - that..." Matthew almost fell off his chair. "Oh my dear Robert, I'm sure I'll miss you terribly," he tried unsuccessfully to regain his composure. "Oh, that's funny."
"And Matthew Parker," Robert finished coldly.
Matthew spat out his caviar.
Aaron.
In a cold, dark palace on this surface of this desolate, empty world, Lt. Michael Stevenson entered his master's office."Julius, sir?"
"Yes, Lieutenant?" Julius didn't turn around in his seat, making it seem to the young soldier that he was talking to a lump of unruly dark curly hair protruding from above the chair.
"Your orders are being carried out to the letter, sir," Michael finished.
"All the names?" Julius questioned.
"All the names," Michael confirmed.
"So, this "Ian's Gang" project will not have the chance to begin. You realise, Lieutenant, if it had, Ian would certainly have used it to crush me. He hates me, you know," Julius paused. "He's consumed with jealousy. I'm everything he's not -intelligent, charming, handsome..."
"You're identical twins," Michael objected.
"That's what they say!" Julius raged. "But where's the proof? Where's the proof?! Get out, go on, get out!" Michael left quickly. "I swear on this day, I will have that brother of mine dead at my feet!"
CHAPTER TWO
Trying to work out how he was going to run an intergalactic peace-keeping force on his allowance and have room left for his weekly carton of strawberry milk, Ian was working quietly on a hi-tech computer (not an Apple Macintosh!) in his quarters when a noise made him turn, and gasp in shock.
Two men, each wearing balaclavas, stood in the doorway.
Ian tensed. For all he was slightly overweight and a little bit arrogant, he was also cool, rational and a little bit arrogant (every bit a King's son).
The masked man on the left moved in, diving toward the teenager.
Sidestepping, Ian threw up his arm, knocking his attacker to the floor, unconscious. Before his masked accomplice could react, Ian kicked him in the groin and delivered a cool right hook to his head.
Ian rubbed his hands together in satisfaction as he his two would-be attackers lay dead to the world.
On Zerroff, Robert was in his office, dealing with bills, when someone knocked on the door. Robert looked up. "Come in."
The door opened and two men in balaclava's came through it.
"Hell!" Robert dived for the drawer his gun was in. There was a shot.
Robert slumped in his chair.
"Look Barry, I don't care whether Jim Robbo has or hasn't got the hots for Anne Wools, just get up here will you?" Ian raged over the communicator. "Barry - two men just attacked me! You're supposed to be in charge of security, not watching stupid Matadonian soap operas!" he turned off the communicator, fuming down at his unconscious foes.
"It's never been the same since Madge left, anyway."
"Robert?" Matthew entered his friend's office, and let out an involuntary gasp of surprise. The room was a mess, furniture overturned, papers everywhere. "Robert," Matthew reproved thin air, "I warned you about those all-night parties, didn't I?"
Something cracked down on the back of his head. Matthew wondered if the room was meant to spin like that, then blacked out.
Robert awoke.
He was cold.
He sat up, blinking, and discovered to his shock that he was sitting on a beach, the waves from the incoming sea washing over him. "Hell
," Robert said disgustedly, "Matthew warned me about those all-night parties."
Quickly, he climbed to his feet and ran onto dry land, which in this case was a green field, which seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see. Robert shook his head. Where the hell was he?
The planet Cat.
Law enforcer Scott Richardson, the toughest fifteen year old on the planet, was on his way home when three masked men leapt out in front of him.
"Oh, for crying out loud," Scott moaned. "I've had a day of this, fellas. Can't you wait until tomorrow at least?" The three men advanced menacingly. "Come on then," Scott yawned, raising his fists, "let's get it over with." The men went for him. Scott headbutted one thug to the floor, and slammed the other two men's heads together. Scott grinned at his three unconscious opponents. "See you in the morning," he called, turning away.
There was a loud bang, and Scott hit the ground.
Steve Botham could not be described as your average, ordinary, typical, run-of-the-mill Matadonian law enforcer. Put crudely, he was a psychopath. He was a "shoot first, ask questions later" style cop, but the problem was, once he'd shot, there was nothing left to ask questions to. The fair-haired fifteen year old was a relatively new member of the Armando Law Enforcement Community, yet already he had received eighteen reprimands and sixteen charges of unnecessarily violent behaviour.
So why were two men trailing him as he left the station?
Ian's frustration was growing by the second when finally there came a knock on the door.
"Who is it?"
"Barry."
"About bloody time, too," Ian opened the door, and was immediately punched in the face by one Lt. Michael Stevenson.
Michael rubbed his hands together smugly. "Too easy."
Steve became aware of his two pursuers around half a mile down the road,and turned to face them. "What do you want?" he bellowed. The men drew guns. "Shit!" Steve yelled, pulling out his "faithful friend" (and decidedly not standard issue) machine-gun, and opening fire, blowing the pair of them away in a hail of blood and bullets. Steve grinned grimly at the carnage. "And if my Commander calls that unnecessarily violent behaviour, I'll shoot the bastard!"
Matthew awoke. He was cool, but not unpleasantly so. Opening his eyes, he found he was lying in long green grass and, standing up, he saw miles of grass, nothing but grass. Groaning, Matthew decided he'd be better off lying down and going back to sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
The planet Assessis.
Maximillian Agon, High Commander of the glorious Assessis Empire, second in command only to President Richtar himself, watched as an Assessis warship was loaded with both soldiers and weapons.
Alexandro Sezom, Richtar's Chief of Special Operations, sauntered toward him curiously. "Did we declare war on Zerroff and I just missed the memo?"
Agon smiled. "The warship is going to Aaron."
Sezom gaped. "But why? There's nothing there. It's a husk. There's a few mindless savages - descendants of the convicts we used to put there - sea, sand, lots of toxic waste that makes the planet almost uninhabitable - that we put there as well - and a planet load of green grass. There's nothing to conquer. If that's where you're going, you certainly don't need a warship."
Agon frowned. "But you don't know why we're going, do you?"
"Well, no," Sezom admitted.
"Then shut up!" Agon snapped, then he smiled again. "We are going there to eliminate an enemy of Assessis."
"Who?"
"Someone who once held the position I do here," Agon continued. "Someone we trusted. Someone who betrayed us with his cowardice, leaving an entire platoon to be slaughtered. Someone who is going to suffer for what he did to us. His nickname here was "The Bad Ian"," he smiled sadistically. "Otherwise known as Julius Williams."
Ian woke up on a beach. Seeing the tide was coming in, he climbed up a slope onto fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. Hearing a noise, Ian turned to see six men, looking so wild they would have put the wind up Earth cavemen, wearing grass clothes and wielding crude clubs. Grunting, they advanced menacingly upon him. Ian realised he had no weapons and that these men were obviously in no mood for intellectual conversation. One of the men, clearly the leader (he had the biggest...ahem...club) raised his arm and pointed at Ian. Ian had the unsavoury feeling he was thinking about lunch, turned and ran for his life, the pack close on his heels.
"Ah, brother dearest," Julius "The Bad Ian" smiled, watching events on a monitor in his palace, a few miles away from Ian's peril. "Get out of this one with your penchant for sucking up to daddy!" he laughed harshly.
Ian ran wildly. Panting, he realised that
a) he was very unfit,
b) he couldn't keep this up, and
c) the pack quite clearly could.
He realised that if something didn't happen soon, he'd end up the main course at a very messy dinner party.
Ian saw someone up ahead. "Help!" Ian cried, waving his arms about desperately. The boy turned and stared at him. "Help!" Ian cried again.
"Get down!" The boy yelled, "get down!"
Ian dived into the grass. The boy raised his arms in the direction of the pack. The hungry pack leader lunged for Ian.
Six bolts of light sprang from the boy's hands, individually striking down each member of the pack.
Ian climbed to his feet, brushing himself down as the boy approached. "Thanks," Ian smiled, "I needed that."
"So I gathered," the boy said dryly. "Don't you know who I am?"
"Should I?" For a Prince, Ian was clearly ignorant of intergalactic affairs.
"I am King Matthew of Zerroff," the boy stated pompously. "I want a little chat with you, buddy boy."
Steve Botham entered his house to find it disturbingly dark and quiet. He stretched out a hand to the light switch. An electric shock threw him to the ground, unmoving.
"Shock reports have been coming in from all of the universe of the disappearance of several of the cosmos' finest people," the newsreader stated.
The Bad Ian was watching the news on his monitor, delighting in his own brilliance.
"Prince Ian from Zakaria was one of the first to disappear," the newswoman continued. "The ruler of Zerroff, Matthew Parker, has also vanished, as his personal aide, Robert Stevens. Implications of a homosexual affair between the two are strongly denied by the palace and were in fact just thought up by us a minute ago for a good laugh. Also missing in curious circumstances are Matadon's Steve Botham, and Cat's Scott Richardson and Philip and Sarah Vasquez," she paused for breath.
Julius smirked. "Oh, why am I so perfect?" he wondered.
"And we have just received some terrible news!" the newsreader shouted.
Julius lazed dreamily.
"A warship has just taken off from Assessis and is heading toward the planet Aaron!"
"What?" Julius jerked his head up.
"Just what the warship wants on Aaron is currently unknown," the newswoman concluded.
The smile faded from Julius' face...
CHAPTER FOUR
The Commander of the Assessis warship currently streaking through space, Nicholas Marnode, a young and relatively inexperienced officer, strolled down the corridors of the vast spacecraft until he found the door he wanted, and knocked.
"Who is it?" a voice emanating from the room demanded irritably.
"Chief Marnode." The door slid open and Marnode stepped in to see a fat, balding man with an unpleasant look on his face.
"What do you want?" the man snapped.
"Dr. Banix - "
"Dr X. Banix," the scientist reminded him.
"Quite," Marnode replied. "I demand to know where these two hi-tech killing machines you promised us are."
"What do you think they are?" Banix indicated two identical humanoid figures standing by the wall.
"Are they operational?" Marnode inquired.
"If they were," Banix sneered, "you'd be dead already."
Marn
ode swallowed nervously. "Well they'd better be ready soon, that's all," he went to the door.
"Or?" Dr. Banix leered.
Marnode turned. "Or we'll have to think seriously about whether or not to send you back to Matadon," he smiled. "And we all know what's waiting foryou there, don't we?"
"Don't push your luck, Marnode," Banix snarled. "You're nobody here. I'm an old hand at this game."
Marnode narrowed his eyes. "All the more reason for a forced early retirement, wouldn't you say?"
Ian and Matthew talked somewhat less than amicably as they strolled through the long grass. Their conversation gradually changed from their rampant egos onto what was happening.
"Well, I would have thought it was obvious," Matthew growled. "That "Ian's Gang" idea of yours upset a lot of people. Perhaps someone decided to put a stop to it before it even started." They continued walking along the field that stretched as far as the eye could see...
Scott awoke.
Climbing to his feet, he looked around at his surroundings. He was in some kind of dungeon which, looking around, he could see no exits from...oh yes, there was one... oh no it just vanished. Scott glanced around in unease, feeling totally out of his depth. The disappearing door reappeared, and swung open to reveal an inviting corridor someone clearly wanted him to go down.
Obstinately, Scott folded his arms. "I'm not going anywhere," he told himself - until a massive wind sprung out of nowhere and blew him down the corridor, the door slamming firmly shut behind him.
Julius surveyed his movements on a monitor. "Excellent," he muttered. "The cream of the galaxy's crop - in my domain. In a few hours Assessis soldiers will arrive - and I will leave. But until then - " he licked his lips in anticipation, " - I am going to have some fun with these do-gooding plebs!"
Robert walked on through the fields. Catching his foot, Robert looked down and cried out, jumping back. Before him lay a rotting corpse, clearly that of a savage that had been half-eaten and left to the mercy of flies. His initial shock over, Robert bent down to examine him. "An Aaron resident," he said grimly, "but who did this to him?"
A huge roar from behind him shook the ground with it's force. Robert turned and fell back in astonishment. A huge red dragon towered above him, roaring, smoke billowing from huge nostrils. Robert staggered to his feet and ran for his life.
