Battle Bust-up

by Charlie Carter

  His whole body was already shuddering, his head howling with a jangle of noises as the World War Two battle scene shattered into digital shards and was uploaded through Napoleon to the professor. The noises were so loud he only just heard the shrill warning beep from Skin.

  ‘Excessive surge of electronic data causing malfunction of HoverVest! Losing altitude fast.’

  ‘Losing altitude fast?’ Napoleon yelled as he plummeted from the sky. ‘Don’t you mean falling?’

  ‘Affirmative,’ said Skin. ‘We are falling. Attempting to activate Boot Boosters, but inadequate power.’

  As Napoleon hurtled towards the ground he did slow down a little. He thought he heard the Boot Boosters and HoverVest trying to function. But soon it was all a blur.

  And then he hit the ground.

  He was knocked out at once.

  ‘Get up, BB005!’

  Napoleon rolled over and stared into a hazy sky.

  ‘You must get up at once.’

  He could hear a woman’s voice. Something told him he should know the voice.

  She sounded really bossy, and he knew he knew someone like that, but he couldn’t put a face to the voice.

  And where was the voice coming from? It seemed to be in his head.

  He tried to sit up, but his head was splitting with pain and spinning like a top.

  Another voice crackled in Napoleon’s ear, this one crisp and electronic.

  ‘BB005 is suffering temporary amnesia resulting from mild concussion. Memory loss will not last long.’

  ‘Epsilon Phase will end in less than sixty seconds,’ said the woman. ‘His position is Level 9 Danger. He will be swallowed by the battle when Kappa Phase locks in again.’

  What are they talking about? thought Napoleon. Epsilon? Kappa? And who was this BB-number-something?

  ‘Is he able to stand on his own?’ the woman asked.

  ‘Negative.’

  ‘Then you must make him stand. Activate HoverVest.’

  HoverVest? He’d heard of that before. But where?

  Napoleon heard a strange sound. The upper half of his body tingled with vibrations as he lifted from the ground a metre or so and hung there like a dummy.

  Hey. He could fly! Maybe he was some kind of Super Kid.

  Then he was slowly lowered until his feet touched the ground.

  At first he stumbled and almost fell, his legs still weak. But in the end he made himself stand.

  As Napoleon looked around, he became even more confused.

  There were soldiers everywhere – soldiers from olden times, with spears and swords. He was in the middle of some sort of battle. But everyone was totally still, like life-size models.

  Charging towards Napoleon, less than twenty metres away, was a cavalry unit, horses frozen in mid-gallop. Leading them on a huge black stallion was a fierce warrior in glinting armour, plumed helmet and a flowing purple cape.

  He’d seen that stallion before. He’d seen that warrior. But where?

  ‘I’ve set up the Exit Beam as close as I can.’ The woman’s voice was there again. ‘It is fifteen metres behind BB, in Sector 15F.’

  ‘Exit Beam located,’ the electronic voice replied.

  ‘Use HoverVest and Boot Boosters to move him towards the beam. As quickly as possible.’

  Napoleon heard the whirring again. He rose a little and blue flames shot from his sandals. But then the whirring stopped and the flames fizzled out.

  ‘Equipment malfunction,’ said the electronic voice. ‘Possibly damaged in the fall.’

  ‘We have to get him out of there, Skin. Not a second to lose!’

  Skin? Yes, he knew that name too.

  ‘Are you talking about me?’ Napoleon said.

  ‘Affirmative,’ replied the electronic voice.

  ‘So I’m BB . . . 00 . . . ?’

  ‘BB005. Affirmative.’

  ‘Where am I? What —?’

  ‘No more questions, BB005,’ the woman interrupted. ‘I am Professor Perdu.’

  ‘Prof. I know you. You’re in charge of Operation Battle Box or something! You’ve got spiky hair, and —’

  ‘Just listen carefully, BB!’ the professor shouted this time. ‘And do exactly as I say.’ There was urgency in her voice. ‘Turn around.’ Napoleon did so. ‘See the bright column of light?’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied.

  ‘Good. Go towards it as quickly as possible. Run, if you can.’

  Run? Napoleon was aching too much to run. He was too dazed as well. And why run anyway? Everything was so peaceful and dreamlike. He wanted to lie down.

  ‘But I like it here,’ he said, turning back to look at the horses. They were big and strong, especially the black stallion. ‘It’s all so quiet and —’

  ‘Just do it, BB005!’ the professor shouted. ‘Now! Or —’

  The professor’s voice was drowned out in an instant, replaced by the deafening roar of real battle.

  There was shouting, swords clashing, horses whinnying. And as Napoleon stared at the horses, he suddenly realised that they were charging. They surged forward, thundering war steeds, heading straight for him.

  Napoleon forgot every ache and pain in his body. He spun on his heels and ran with only one thought in mind – to reach that beam of light.

  He dodged weapons and leaped over soldiers. He twisted, dived, rolled and almost flew a few times.

  As Napoleon reached the column of light, the black stallion was nearly on top of him. He could feel its fiery breath on his neck.

  He turned to see its flared nostrils and fierce eyes, its powerful hooves bearing down on him. He thrust out his arm, but the hooves kept coming. They struck him and he screamed with pain.

  The hooves struck again, but this time there was no force in them. He was in the column of light, staring out at the stallion and its rider. But they were fading away, like ghosts. So was the battle roar.

  And then it was over. No horse. No warrior. No battle.

  Only the whooshing of white light.

  ‘How do you feel?’

  Napoleon had just stepped into the main chamber from the change room, dressed in his normal clothes. He’d been through the sauna tunnel and the massage machine. The brain and body scanner had checked him all over for any injuries.

  ‘Good, I think,’ he said.

  He could hardly remember arriving back in the Tome Tower. He had been almost unconscious at the time. Now, after all the special treatment, he felt tiptop.

  ‘It’s as if nothing happened at all,’ he told Professor Perdu. ‘It was just like a dream, except that I’ve got this bruise. And it hurts.’

  His right arm had a raw bruise in the shape of a half moon where Bucephalus, Alexander the Great’s horse, had struck him with his hoof.

  ‘It was no dream,’ said the professor. ‘More of a nightmare. I thought we were going to lose you this time. I really did.’ She smiled. ‘But I’m pleased to say that all is well. No serious injuries. Your memory is one hundred percent, and the mission was a total success.’

  She nodded through the window into the Tome Tower. ‘Books 24 and 25 are completely restored to their original state.’

  Napoleon gazed at the two Battle Books on the shelf. ‘They look so harmless,’ he said. ‘It’s hard to believe what’s churning away inside them.’

  ‘I agree,’ said the professor as she ran her eye along the shelf. ‘I wonder which book will be ready next.’

  Napoleon could see a couple of possibilities and made a mental note of their numbers.

  ‘I think I’ll be back pretty soon,’ he said, nodding at one of the books in particular.

  ‘I agree,’ said the professor.

  It was late in the afternoon when Napoleon arrived home. His brothers were playing the latest version of Warrior World on the wide-screen computer in the sitting room.

  ‘The bookworm returns,’ said Monty, pausing the game and swivelling around on his chair.

  Caesar turned around too. ‘All hail,
Word Warrior!’

  Napoleon’s mother noticed the bruise on his arm immediately.

  ‘It looks like you’ve been in the wars,’ she said, dishing him up some spag bog. ‘That’s a very nasty wound.’ She inspected the bruise. ‘How did it happen?’

  ‘Yeah, Nappy,’ said Caesar. ‘What battle have you been in?’

  His father glanced up from the newspaper.

  ‘Well, Napoleon,’ he said with a grin. ‘Let’s hear your war story.’

  Napoleon looked his father straight in the eye. ‘I was in the Battle of Issus, Dad.’

  ‘And what a battle that was,’ said his father. ‘But don’t tell me you got that bruise from Alexander the Great.’

  ‘Not exactly.’ Napoleon’s smile grew wider. ‘I got it from Bucephalus.’ He traced his finger around the horse-shoe shape of the bruise.

  Napoleon’s father laughed. ‘Well, maybe all that time you spend in the library isn’t a waste after all. Bucephalus!’ He laughed again.

  Napoleon’s brothers looked at each other.

  ‘Who’s Bu . . . whatever, Dad?’ Monty asked.

  ‘Yeah? What’s Nappy on about?’ said Caesar.

  Napoleon and his father winked at each other.

  Some things just couldn’t be explained.