Martin King and the Space Angels (Martin King Series)

by James McGovern

  AMAZING TRICKS AND ESCAPES PRODUCING

  DELIGHT! ASTONISHMENT! AND WONDER!

  THE PAVILION

  ELTON QUARRY

  14TH JUNE, 7:00PM

  & 21ST JUNE, 7:00PM

  Mr Slater tapped the poster. ‘This magic show takes place tomorrow evening. It is essential that you attend with Tommy and Darcy, and speak to the magician Levanté.’

  ‘Why?’

  Slater paused. ‘My machine, the Foreteller, has told me that you will require his help. You see, my friend, Levanté is also from the planet Hope.’

  Chapter 4: The Incredible Levanté

  The rain beat down upon the colourful pavilion. The red and yellow striped canvas contrasted sharply with the dark grey sky. The pavilion looked like it had dropped from the sky and landed in the dust. A section of the quarry had been sectioned off for parking, and the spaces were already filled with cars.

  ‘Strange place for a magic show,’ muttered Darcy.

  The pavilion was in an abandoned quarry near the border between Norfolk and Cambridgeshire. Mr Slater had paid for their travel; they had taken a train from London to Norwich and then a taxi to the quarry. On the journey, Martin had related everything Mr Slater had told him the day before.

  ‘Mr Slater said that Levanté only does a couple of shows every year,’ said Martin, ‘and he’s supposed to be quite eccentric.’

  ‘And he’s an alien,’ said Tommy.

  ‘Yes. And he’s an alien.’

  ‘And so is Mr Slater,’ said Darcy. ‘Our Maths teacher is an alien. God, our lives have become weird lately.’

  ‘Are you sure we can trust Slater?’ asked Tommy.

  ‘I don’t trust him,’ said Martin, pulling out the three laminated tickets Mr Slater had given him. ‘But Falcon told us to find the magician, too, remember. He must have meant Levanté. I just hope Levanté will be able to give us some answers.’

  *

  The pavilion was dark when they entered. A circle of roughly three hundred seats enclosed the stage, about three-quarters of which were occupied. A wide curtain hid the single backstage entrance. The rows were staggered, so each row nearer the back was a little higher up.

  They peered through the darkness to locate their seats. Martin sat in the middle, with Darcy to his left and Tommy to his right. The stage was a large grey circle surrounded by unlit torches. An angular shape stood at the back of the stage, masked by a black cloth.

  Martin looked around at the other members of the audience, whose faces were just about visible in the darkness. A hushed conversation filled the pavilion.

  Tommy turned to his cousin. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ said Martin.

  Tommy dropped his volume. ‘I know things are hard—with your dad, I mean—but you know you can talk to me, don’t you?’

  ‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’

  ‘Mum’s always saying she’s worried about Roger, and his…’ Tommy paused. ‘And worried about you too.’

  ‘Things really aren’t that bad,’ said Martin, ‘I’m used to the way he is.’

  ‘All the same—my mum says that if you ever wanted to come and live with us, it’d be OK. We’d all be cool with it.’

  Martin smiled. ‘Thanks mate, but I don’t think dad would survive a week without me.’

  Suddenly, the eight torches that encircled the stage ignited. A clown stepped into the ring; the firelight flickered over his painted smile.

  ‘Are you OK, Darcy?’ said Martin.

  She had suddenly become tense.

  ‘Yeah, why?’

  ‘You don’t look OK,’ Martin whispered. ‘Come on, what’s the matter?’

  Darcy shrugged. ‘Clowns give me the creeps.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. I don’t know what it is. There’s just something about them, something about those leering grins. They make my blood turn cold. It’s silly, I know, but—’

  Martin put an arm around Darcy. He felt her warm body pull closer towards him, and felt a tremor of excitement.

  ‘No, it’s not. It’s not silly. We can leave if you like, Darcy.’

  Darcy shook her head. ‘No. No. We have a job to do.’ She smiled. Her pale features seemed even more delicate in the darkness. ‘You’re a great friend, Martin.’

  A great friend. Is that all I am to her? Just a friend?

  ‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!’ shouted the clown. ‘Performing here, you are about to see the greatest magician and escapologist this planet has ever seen!’

  ‘The greatest this planet has ever seen?’ Tommy whispered. ‘I’ve never even heard of him.’

  ‘And now—without any further introduction—the man you have all come here to see! The incredible Levanté!’

  The fire dimmed, and Levanté stepped into a spotlight. He was a handsome man who looked about thirty; his hair was glossy, and a dark brown curl fell over his forehead. He was dressed in a smart velvet jacket, brown waistcoat, colourful cravat and striped trousers. He smiled, revealing perfect teeth.

  ‘Good evening,’ he said. His voice was deep and rich.

  The magician clicked his fingers and two girls in sparkling bikinis wheeled out a large black box from behind the curtain. The first girl was blonde and curvy, and the second had raven-black hair and a more slim physique. The sequins on their bikinis glittered in the light from the torches. The first girl looked a little bit like Darcy. Martin suddenly imagined Darcy on the stage, dressed in a tiny bikini…

  ‘Now,’ said Levanté. ‘I need the assistance of a member of the audience.’

  Nobody raised a hand.

  ‘Anyone?’

  Martin put his hand up.

  ‘What are you doing?’ whispered Tommy.

  Levanté beamed. ‘Thank you! You’ll be fine!’

  Martin made his way clumsily down onto the stage. He stood beside Levanté in the centre of the stage, blinking in the spotlight.

  ‘And your name is?’

  ‘Martin. Martin King.’

  ‘Martin King, ladies and gentlemen!’ The audience applauded politely. ‘Now… can I confirm that you have never seen me before?’

  ‘Never,’ said Martin loudly.

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  ‘I’m sure.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Levanté, handing Martin a length of rope. ‘I will now ask Martin King to bind my arms with this rope.’ He turned to Martin, and whispered, ‘Tightly, don’t make it easy for me.’

  ‘OK,’ said Martin.

  Levanté held out his arms. Martin wrapped the thick rope around them and tied a strong knot.

  ‘Thank you,’ said the magician, finally. ‘Another round of applause, please, for Martin King! You’ll forgive me if I don’t join in—I’m a little tied up right now.’

  A few people laughed and the audience clapped again as Martin went back to his seat, feeling a little hot.

  ‘You just wanted to see those girls up close, right?’ said Tommy, grinning.

  Martin shrugged. ‘Well, that was a definite plus.’

  The black box had a door in the front; the dark-haired girl opened it and Levanté stepped inside. The blonde girl closed it behind him and sealed it with a copper padlock.

  ‘Finished, ladies?’ said a loud voice.

  Levanté swept the stage curtain aside and re-entered the stage, the ropes nowhere to be seen, grinning his perfect smile. The audience burst into applause as the girls wheeled the black box away.

  Martin reached behind his collar and pulled out the monocle. He looked at the magician through the Truthful Eye, and smiled. Through the lens, Levanté’s hair was bright white.

  ‘Hey, Darcy, look.’

  Martin took the monocle from around his neck and passed it to Darcy. She peered at Levanté through the lens.

  ‘Wow. So that’s what he really looks like?’

  ‘Yes. He’s an Axis Lord, all right.’

  Levanté then went on to perform several different
magic tricks—levitation, causing objects to disappear and reappear, card tricks involving members of the audience.

  ‘Now,’ said Levanté, and a hush fell upon the audience. ‘I am going to perform a trick I like to call the Water Cage.’

  The blonde girl walked slowly towards the imposing shape in the centre of the stage. She ripped the sheet away and dragged it to the centre of the stage. It was a huge glass tank on wheels, full of water. The raven-haired girl attached a harness to Levanté, which was in turn attached to a cable. The cable dragged Levanté into the air and suspended him over the tank; his feet hung a centimetre from the skin of the water.

  ‘Do not fear for my safety,’ said Levanté. ‘Know that no matter what happens, I am entirely in control. I am about to be dropped into the Water Cage, and the cage will be locked. My assistants are under strict orders not to help me to escape—under any circumstances.’

  Levanté paused for ten seconds. Then he pulled the release catch on his harness and was plunged into the water. One of the girls pulled a rope and the hatch slammed shut.

  At first, he was still. Almost a minute passed. Then Levanté started to thrash about.

  ‘Let him out!’ someone shouted. ‘He’s drowning! Can’t you see? He’s drowning!’

  But nobody attempted to rescue him. The showgirls watched passively as cries of outrage erupted from the audience. Then the blonde girl picked up the sheet and cast it back over the tank.

  The audience fell silent and another minute passed. Then the girl ripped the sheet away from the tank again and it unfurled on the ground.

  The tank was empty.

  A man got up from the front row of the audience and walked to the centre of the stage. It took a few seconds for the audience to realise who the man was. It was Levanté, his clothes and hair soaking wet.

  Someone stood up and began to clap. Someone else joined in. Within seconds, the pavilion was filled with applause.

  ‘You won’t get rid of me that easily, ladies!’ said Levanté.

  ‘How?’ whispered Darcy. ‘How on Earth did he do that?’

  ‘I’m starting to get an idea,’ said Martin. ‘Look.’

  He handed Darcy the Truthful Eye, and she looked at the magician.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘That’s strange.’

  Through the monocle, the magician’s clothes were still perfectly dry.

  ‘All of the tricks I have performed so far have been mere trifles,’ said the magician. ‘Next, I will perform the greatest trick of them all. Except that no trickery is involved. The time has passed for smoke and mirrors. You are about to witness real magic. But first—an interval!’

  The audience clapped again and Levanté slipped behind the curtain. Martin jumped from his seat and turned to Darcy and his cousin.

  ‘Come on!’ he said.

  ‘Where are we going?’ said Tommy.

  ‘To speak to Levanté. But try to look casual.’

  ‘Martin, wait—’ Darcy began, but Martin had already started heading down the steps.

  Darcy and Tommy followed him down the narrow steps. They reached ground level; Martin walked cautiously across the stage and peered behind the stage curtain.

  ‘It’s clear!’ he said. ‘Come on.’

  After a quick glance around, Martin slipped behind the curtain, followed by his friends.

  The backstage area was a large, untidy space; magical items were dotted around everywhere—the black box from the first trick, chains, ropes, handcuffs, packs of cards…

  And there was a door. A painted sign hung over the wood:

  THE INCREDIBLE LEVANTÉ

  DRESSING ROOM

  ‘I haven’t seen any security guards around,’ said Tommy.

  Darcy’s eyes glinted. ‘Well, Levanté’s an Axis Lord. Remember what Falcon did to the rain? He must have all sorts of special powers. Why would he need security guards?’

  ‘Then he might be dangerous,’ said Tommy.

  ‘Let’s find out,’ said Martin.

  Before anyone could stop him, Martin pushed the door open and stepped into Levanté’s dressing room.

  ‘What the devil?’ said Levanté. When he saw Martin, his face softened a little. ‘Oh, it’s you. Martin King.’

  Darcy and Tommy entered the dressing room. It was richly decorated; the magician was sitting in a leather wingback armchair, surrounded by expensive ornaments. A tall gilded mirror hung on one side of the room. Levanté was alone in the dressing room.

  ‘And you’ve brought friends, I see.’

  Levanté’s eyes were no longer dancing with life. No perfect smile, either. His onstage charisma seemed to have melted away.

  ‘Thank you for tying the ropes, Martin King,’ he said. ‘You did a terrific job.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’ Martin glanced at Darcy. ‘We were wondering, well…’

  ‘How I did the Water Cage trick?’ Levanté smiled humourlessly. ‘That one always gets them.’

  ‘No,’ said Tommy. ‘We were wondering if you could help us. We… we knew Falcon.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘And we know who you really are.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Levanté again. ‘Please, sit down.’

  The magician waved his hand and three leather armchairs appeared. The teenagers sat down, astonished.

  ‘So how is the old fellow?’ said Levanté. ‘Falcon, I mean.’

  ‘He was captured,’ said Darcy. ‘His father captured him. He was taken back to Hope to be put on trial.’

  ‘Poetic justice, I fancy. Do you know that Falcon is the reason I am trapped on this miserable planet?’

  ‘How?’ said Martin.

  Levanté shook his head. ‘No, no, I take that back. I should really be grateful to Falcon. Without him I would not be alive.’ He sighed. ‘I was to face the death penalty on Hope. And Falcon saved me—in a sense. He persuaded the judge that I did not deserve execution, that I should be exiled instead. And Falcon arranged things so that I was sent here—to Earth. He even made sure that I could have the freedom of the entire planet.’

  ‘So you started a new life on Earth as a magician?’ said Darcy.

  Levanté laughed. ‘Yes. In fact, I have been doing much the same thing for over a hundred and fifty years—under different identities, of course. I was an engineer back on Hope, and the skills I picked up in that profession are remarkably transferable to the conjuring trade. I live a comfortable enough life, performing magic tricks to a select crowd—well, a rich crowd.’ He smiled. ‘What other magician could command such high ticket prices?’ He paused, and sighed. ‘But… sometimes I wish I had been executed.’

  ‘How can you say that?’ said Darcy.

  ‘I’m a shark trapped in a goldfish bowl,’ said Levanté. ‘I was not made for this tiny little world, living this meaningless life. Earth has nothing to offer me. This planet can have no attraction to an Axis Lord.’ He sighed again. ‘You said you wanted my help.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Martin. ‘We know what’s causing the storms. A force called XO5 is going to destroy this planet.’

  ‘And you need to find a mysterious object that XO5 seeks before this miserable little world explodes, or implodes, or disintegrates… is that it?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tommy. ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Michael Slater has been trying to enlist my help in this little... quest for the past twenty years. He predicted the storms many years ago with that Foreteller device he has. He contacted me again last week, raving about some object that had to be found urgently.’

  ‘You know Slater?’ said Martin incredulously.

  ‘Of course I know Michael Slater. He is my uncle. And he is an idiot. An Axis Lord, living on this deplorable world by choice!’

  ‘Your uncle?’ said Darcy. ‘Then you have to help us!’

  ‘I do not have to do anything. If this world is destined to fall into the fire, then so be it. I welcome it. I welcome death.’

  ‘Please,’ said Tommy. ‘We really do need help. Even if yo
u can give us the tiniest bit of advice…’

  ‘No,’ said Levanté. ‘No. Good day.’

  ‘Falcon saved you!’ said Martin. ‘Falcon saved your life! Why do you think he made sure you were exiled here, on Earth? He knew we would need your help. And you owe it to him to help us.’

  ‘I do not owe Falcon anything. And I do not owe you anything, Martin King. Thank you for tying the rope. Good day.’

  Left with no choice, the friends got up and walked towards the door. Darcy and Tommy stepped out of the room. Martin turned back.

  ‘Just tell me one thing,’ said Martin. ‘You said you were going to be executed on Hope. What was your crime?’

  Levanté smiled.

  ‘Suicide.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Yes, suicide is the worst crime a person can commit on the planet Hope. Every Axis Lord has three lives. I died once when I was a little boy—an accident with one of my father’s pistols. And I took my second life when the woman I loved rejected me. The Axis Lords were going to take away my third as punishment.’

  *

  Levanté stepped back onto the stage.

  ‘Disappearance,’ he said. ‘The art of vanishing has confounded magicians ever since the Middle Ages. I am going to perform that very trick for you today. Except it is not a trick. Are you ready?’

  Suddenly, three… things appeared on the stage. They were humanoid, but not human. They seemed to be robots; their bodies were coated in glossy black armour, gilded with floral designs. And they were carrying very large guns.

  ‘You will come with us,’ said one of the robots, pointing its gun at Levanté. It had a growling, metallic voice.

  ‘No,’ said Levanté, looking frightened. ‘No. It can’t be.’

  ‘Is this part of the act?’ whispered Tommy.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Martin replied.

  ‘You will come with us,’ repeated the robot.

  The robot lifted its gun and fired at Levanté. He dodged the laser beam and it burned a hole in the stage. Levanté looked around at the audience.

  ‘Do I have your attention?’

  ‘You will come with us.’