by Susan Moore
Nat took a deep breath. “Aunt Vera’s got a court order making her and Uncle Fergal my guardians until Jamuka returns and I’ve had to move into their apartment. Worse still, Aunt Vera’s burned my mother’s kimono.”
The bouncing stopped. Wen turned the music off.
“Ai yah! That witch! I’m coming straight over to jump on her in my boots. Tell me everything.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
ESCAPE
Without the rocking motion of the Junko, Nat tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Aunt Vera’s dinner party had finished and the raucous laughter had been replaced with the hum of the air conditioning. She’d watched a couple of old film clips of her parents but instead of helping her fall asleep as usual, this time they’d only made her feel more alone than ever before.
She kicked off the sheet and switched on the bedside lamp.
“Let’s get out of here, Fizz,” she said, picking up the hideous pink Shan-xi dress off the floor.
Fizz’s eyes snapped open for an instant, before closing again.
“It is three o’clock in the morning. Sleep time,” he announced.
“It may be three, but you need to wake up. I’m not staying in vile Vera’s purple guest box any longer. We’re going back home.”
She tugged the dress over her head and grabbed her kung fu slippers from underneath the bed. At least Ming hadn’t been able to find them.
“Not safe outside; too late at night,” said Fizz.
“Well, we’re going out anyway and we’re going to sail far away from all this until Jamuka comes back.”
She took the star jar out from underneath her pillow and put it in her backpack. Looking around the room she realised there was nothing else left of hers to take; the rest was now ash. Picking up Fizz she headed for the door.
“Switch to silent mode, Fizz.”
Out in the hallway she could hear a deep rumbling snore coming from Uncle Fergal and Aunt Vera’s room. That would provide good cover. She tiptoed along to the kitchen and quietly turned the door handle. It was dark inside except for the digital glow of the fridge readout. Underneath the sink she could see the outline of Ming, sound asleep in her narrow bunk. She held her breath as she passed by, terrified Ming would wake up and raise the alarm.
The door clicked shut behind her. She’d made it out into the apartment block corridor. She took off at a run like a rat from a sinking ship. Rather than wait for the lift, she decided to run down the emergency stairs, taking three at time, to reach the underground car park. She pulled her Slider out of the rack, crammed on her helmet and thrust the handlebars forward. She zoomed up the ramp and out into the warm Hong Kong night.
The Slider lanes were quiet. She soon arrived at the Causeway Bay Royal Yacht Club. Fizz scanned her in through the owners’ entrance and she headed across the lawns, the smell of the saltwater in the air calming her ragged nerves.
She passed the line of super-yachts and headed out to the end of the jetty. But when she got to the last mooring, it was empty.
“Where is it?” she said, looking out across the marina, searching for the Junko’s signature three masts.
She lifted Fizz up off the handlebars.
“Fizz, locate home.”
Fizz’s eyes lit up bright green. He lifted his snout up into the air as his GPS system searched.
“Junko is in transit headed towards Shelter Cove, New Territories.”
The words hit Nat like a tsunami.
“What? That’s miles away. Call Ah Wong,” she said.
“No reply. Cuts to auto-answer. Leave message?”
She slammed her hand down hard on the handlebars.
“No! Cut to DeckCam.”
Fizz’s wings opened. Nat expected to see an immediate live feed from the Junko’s deck. Instead the screen showed the black and grey snow of a dead connection.
“Data feed disabled.”
“Try every JunkoCam.”
“All data feeds disabled.”
Nat clutched her stomach and sank down on to her board. Her home was gone. The world she knew was being ripped away from her.
“Call Henry.”
Henry appeared on Fizz’s screen. His hair was standing on end. He yawned and sleepily rubbed his eyes.
“Nat?” he said. “Are you outside?”
“Yes. I’m where the Junko was and it isn’t here any more. Do you know anything about it?”
Henry bit his lip.
“Oh dear,” he said.
Nat sighed. “What? Tell me.”
“Mum paid Ah Wong fifty thousand dollars to take it away. It was all in cash; she counted it out on the kitchen table before we came to get you from the Junko. It was a mountain of notes. I saw Prissy hide a few of them in her pocket.”
“WHAT? That’s a fortune! Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Henry winced. His face turned as red as Popko juice. Nat wanted to reach through the camera and punch him, lash out at him for not letting her know before. Instead she leapt up and high-kicked her handlebars. She hit them with such force that the Slider went into a tailspin, whizzing round and round like a spinning top, her and Fizz with it.
Fizz started to snort in alarm. Smoke poured out of his snout. Nat jammed her foot on to the ground, bringing them to an abrupt halt.
“I’m so sorry. Mummy made me promise not to say anything to you. She said she’d take NutNut off me for a year if I did,” said Henry.
Nat took a deep breath. She’d never really hated someone before.
“The witch! That’s two years’ wages for Ah Wong. Is she sailing the Junko up to Shelter Cove as part of the deal?”
Henry’s shoulders slumped. “I think so.”
“What else? Come on, what else has she done?”
Nat leaned into camera. Her nostrils flared, her eyes wide with fury. Henry jumped back in fright.
“I don’t know. That’s all I heard. Please come back home. If Mummy wakes up and finds you gone she’ll call the police.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
ROBOT DOCTOR
Nat sat on the jetty staring out into the dark waters of Victoria Harbour. A cold wind cut through her thin Shan-xi dress but she was oblivious to it. She was a hollow shell, a dry husk of a girl, her soul sucked out by her wicked aunt.
She wondered if she should go to Wen’s, but that would more than likely make things worse. Aunt Vera was bound to track her down and drag her back.
After leaving a very long message for Jamuka, which she could only hope he might pick up, she climbed aboard her Slider and made her way slowly back to Wetley Towers.
Dawn was breaking when she pulled into the car park. She took the lift up and decided to enter through the apartment’s front door in case Ming was already awake and at work in the kitchen.
She quietly opened the door and began to creep down the hallway.
“You are in big trouble,” said Prissy, appearing at the doorway to her bedroom in a satin dressing gown and seaweed face mask.
Nat scowled at her and broke into a run towards the purple guest room but she was blocked by Aunt Vera coming out from the kitchen. “And just where have you been?”
Nat stared at her in horror. Aunt Vera was wearing a silver nano-mesh hairnet and her face was frozen with a thick layer of night-time Cementer.
“I wanted to get some air,” she said.
“Liar! You were going to the Junko, weren’t you? Henry said you were trying to escape.”
Henry? How could he have told her that?
“Well, I couldn’t, could I? You got Ah Wong to sail it away. That’s my home you’ve taken, and you’ve no right to!” said Nat, her fists clenched at her sides.
Aunt Vera took a step towards her. The smell of sour coffee on her breath made Nat gag. She raised a long bony finger and stabbed it at Nat’s chest. “You are a spoiled, selfish little orphan and you are banned from going out again – without me.”
Fizz’s high-pitched alarm rang out.
“
Stop that thing,” said Aunt Vera, whipping Nat’s pack off her shoulder.
She ripped open the top and thrust her hand inside.
“Agh!” she screamed, pulling out her hand with Fizz hanging from a finger by a claw. “Get it off me.”
Nat didn’t move. She was delighted that her aunt had activated Fizz’s anti-theft protection.
“Get it off me! Now!” she screamed.
Nat cupped Fizz in her hand. The moment he sensed her, he released Aunt Vera’s finger.
“I will go to my room now,” said Nat, her voice low and cold.
Aunt Vera’s eyes narrowed. She held out her hand.
“Give that to me now.”
“No!” said Nat, holding Fizz protectively to her chest.
“Or else I shall call the robot doctor and have him taken apart piece by piece.”
Nat swallowed hard. She knew her aunt well enough to know that if she didn’t hand him over, she would lose him forever.
“Be good,” she whispered to Fizz, and flicked the switch under his wing to power him down. His eyes closed, his wings whirred to a close. “If you hurt him I’ll make sure you pay.”
Aunt Vera’s claw-like hand snatched the dragon.
“He’s a robot, for goodness’ sake. Now, get out of my sight,” she said, turning on her spiky heels and marching off towards her room.
Nat fled to her bedroom, closed the door and collapsed on the bed. Her blood boiled with anger and frustration.
An hour later she was lying on the bed staring up at the lilac ceiling when she saw something slide out from underneath the door. Looking down she saw a slip of paper lying on the floor. She reached down and picked it up. It was a hand-scrawled note from Henry:
Dear Nat, I am very sorry but Mummy overhurd me talking to you. She was sneeking at my door and when we stopped talking she came in and took NutNut from me. I hate her like you do. You are lucky that she is not your mummy and Prissy is not your sisster. I am banned to my room but tiptowed down to give you this. We are in prizon. I miss NutNut. Very sorry agane. Henry.
A faint smile passed her lips. At least Henry wasn’t a traitor after all. She sat up. She would go and see him. The chances of getting caught were slim since she was sure Aunt Vera would be leaving them to suffer for at least another few hours.
She was barefoot, halfway down the hallway, when she heard loud, stage-like whispers coming from the kitchen.
“What do you mean, you didn’t get the promotion?” said Aunt Vera.
“They gave it to Lee,” said Uncle Fergal.
Nat was about to continue onwards towards Henry’s room when Aunt Vera let out an ear-piercing screech, rooting Nat to the spot.
“Lee? You’ve been at the bank fifteen years longer than him. All those dinner parties I’ve hosted to push you up the ladder and it all amounts to nothing. You should be president now. Instead you’re a middle manager on a salary that wouldn’t keep a mouse in clothes.”
Nat gasped. She might not like Uncle Fergal but he didn’t deserve that.
A hand rapped down on the table. “There I was thinking I was marrying a man with means. And what’s it come to? Nothing!”
“And who do you think pays for this lavish lifestyle of yours, the club, the flat, the clothes, Prissy and Henry’s education, the dinner parties?” Uncle Fergal protested.
Nat could hear Aunt Vera suck in the air between her teeth like a hissing cobra. “We scrape through each month on your meagre salary. And don’t you forget we’ve taken out a big loan to keep it all rolling until you get a promotion. And look where we are now – no promotion! We’re going to be destitute.”
Uncle Fergal let out a loud sigh. “We’ll just have to make some cutbacks until the next round of promotions is announced.”
“No. We will not. I refuse to be a pauper. There’s only one thing for it. We’ll just have to secure the Brat’s guardianship.”
Nat felt like running in and giving her aunt a high kick.
“Well, you’d better make sure you do it fast then, after all the money you’ve spent since she arrived. These bills are outrageous!”
Nat heard papers being shuffled and snatched.
“I’ve been scrimping for long enough, Fergal. You can’t keep me in the manner that I expect, so I will sort it out myself.”
Uncle Fergal’s heavy footsteps echoed along the hallway. Nat turned and fled to her room. She made it through the door just as he came thundering out, red-faced and sweating.
There was a loud slam of the front door then all went deadly quiet. The efficient click of Aunt Vera’s stilettos came next. Nat held her breath as they paused outside her door. There was a brisk knock and Aunt Vera’s head appeared around the door.
Nat turned away.
“Darling girl, how are you?” said Aunt Vera, her voice silky.
She sat down next to Nat on the bed and placed a hand over hers in a firm grip. “I’m sorry I was angry earlier. I was just so concerned that you might have been kidnapped. But I’d like us to forget the whole matter.”
Nat swallowed hard and turned to face her. Aunt Vera was wearing the same pink dress as her. Her stick-thin arms, draped in gold bangles, looked even more ridiculous with her blonde mushroom hair sticking out on top.
“And here’s your darling dragon,” she said, placing Fizz in Nat’s lap.
Nat picked him up. The normally warm scales were cold. His eyes were closed.
“Now, I must leave shortly to attend a special meeting. Prissy’s off to see Candy in a few minutes, it’s Ming’s day off, so can I leave you with Henry to just hang out together? Maybe you could go for a fun Slamburger.”
She tried to wink at Nat but her face was so frozen with Cementer that it looked more like a nervous twitch. Before Nat could reply, Aunt Vera leaned over and pecked her on the forehead.
“Ku!” she said, standing up and noticing Nat’s dress. “We’re twins.”
A lingering whiff of perfume was left in her wake as she walked out of the door. Nat rubbed her eyes. She was tired from lack of sleep, and even more tired from the whirlwind of emotions that surfaced every time she saw her aunt.
She reached beneath Fizz’s wing to power him up. His eyes flashed bright green.
“Message from Doctor Tang.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
MARBOLIC
Nat, Wen and Henry raced through the doors into the Watchem lobby.
“Hai, Lok. Is Mum in the lab?” said Wen, running towards the lift.
“Yes, you’re expected,” he said.
“Wen, darling,” said Doctor Tang, giving her daughter a hug as she raced in. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Nat and Henry hovering inside the door. “Nat, Henry. Come in and sit down. Wen told me you are staying at your aunt and uncle’s, Nat.”
Nat nodded. Doctor Tang put her hand on Nat’s arm.
“I know family can be difficult, but I am sure they have your best interests at heart.”
Nat bit her lip. Part of her wanted to spill out the whole sorry story straightaway, but she decided to wait until after she’d found out why they had been urgently called in.
“Now.” Wen’s mum became businesslike. “Our tests show the petal contains traces of a very rare poison.”
“Poison?” said Nat, suddenly alert. Had Jamuka arrived to find his Clan and the wolf pack dead? Was he still alive?
“Marbolic,” said Doctor Tang. “I first came across it several years ago during the Growemup scandal. Growemup was a fertiliser used to speed up growth and strengthen plants. They discovered that the chemical compounds in Growemup reacted with certain plants to form a deadly poison. The scientists called it Marbolic. Once it was discovered, Growemup was banned.”
Nat shuddered. She reached into her pocket and pressed Fizz’s snout to record. Doctor Tang pressed a button on the table.
Henry’s face wrinkled up as a hologram of a mouse appeared in mid-air before them.
“Ai yah! Mum!” said Wen, turning away.<
br />
The mouse’s eyes had popped out like marbles.
“Marbolic attacks the central nervous system. Smaller doses can cause severe fatigue, and ingested in larger quantities it leads to paralysis, muscle failure and eventually death.”
“Is there a cure?” asked Nat.
“Some research has been done, but to date no one has discovered an antidote.” Doctor Tang switched off the screen. “It appears the Tumen Vachir plant is being fertilised with Growemup. I’ve contacted the Mongolian authorities, as this is a potential environmental disaster. Since they haven’t received reports from any other sources, and they’re short-staffed with the new government-funding cuts, they will only take action if we can verify and locate the source. To do that we must find Jamuka and his Clan.”
Nat gulped. Did Jamuka know all this? Or was this something new?
“All I know is that they’re in the mountains somewhere.”
Doctor Tang got to her feet and started to pace the office, her hands clasped behind her back. “Is there a village nearby that we can get word to?”
Nat ran through Jamuka’s old bedtime stories. “Maybe somewhere in the Hentii Mountains?”
Doctor Tang called up a map of Mongolia from the table computer. A holographic map floated above the table. It zoomed into the Hentii Mountains. “This is a massive area. Where exactly?” she asked.
Tree-filled mountain slopes, lakes and grassy plains filled a vast landscape that seemed to stretch forever. There were no buildings, roads or anything that could be identified as a distinctive landmark.
“The Clan are nomadic,” said Nat. “Jamuka says they move with the seasons.”
Then a name popped into her head, recalled from a long-ago conversation with her guardian. “Qadan. Q-A-D-A-N.”
“Search for Qadan,” commanded Doctor Tang.
“Qadan not known,” replied the computer.
Nat frowned. “Maybe it’s not this part of the Hentii Mountains after all.”
