Martin approached the blonde man, walking carefully over the unfamiliar cloud surface.
‘Hello,’ said the man, putting down the violin. ‘I am the Isis Mind.’
‘Hi,’ said Martin. ‘Er, this might sound like a silly question, but… where am I?’
‘You are inside the Isis Crystal; or at least, your mind is. I am the Isis Mind—the consciousness that exists inside the crystal.’
‘Er… right.’ Martin looked around. ‘What’s with the rainbow and the weird birds?’
‘I have immense creative powers, and not much to do with them. I make things to stop myself getting bored.’
‘Er… right,’ Martin repeated.
‘So what do you wish me to do?’ said the Isis Mind. ‘I assume you are here for a reason.’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Martin. ‘My planet has been destroyed. Everyone on it has been killed.’
‘So you want me to restore your planet?’
Martin paused. ‘Is that possible?’
The blonde man smiled. ‘Martin King, I can do anything.’
‘Then… can you do it now?’
‘Of course.’
‘I don’t understand one thing,’ said Martin. ‘Why were you going to allow XO5 to use you to rewrite the universe?’
‘That is one thing the Axis Lords missed,’ said the Isis Mind. ‘They gave me a genius intellect and infinite power. Well, infinite except for one thing. They did not give me the ability to resist the will of others. I have no choice but to obey any command given to me—it is how I have been created.’
‘So you’ll do anything anyone tells you to do?’ said Martin.
The Isis Mind nodded.
‘OK,’ said Martin. ‘I am going to ask you to do something that might upset you.’
‘I do not have emotions,’ said the Isis Mind.
‘All right. After you fix the Earth I want you to destroy the Isis Crystal.’
The Isis Mind nodded. ‘As you wish.’
Chapter 13: A Letter From The Enemy
Martin was sitting with Darcy in the park; they were both eating vanilla ice-creams. The storms had all disappeared, and the sky was blue.
It was a scorching day; Mr Slater had mentioned that the sun would be abnormally hot for a few weeks as the climate was retuned.
Three days had passed since the events on the Moon. Martin had used the power of the Isis Crystal to restore the Earth and transport them all back to the planet.
‘I wonder if the Isis Crystal will cause any more trouble,’ said Darcy.
Martin shook his head. ‘No. I told it to destroy itself. Nobody should ever have that much power.’
‘So that’s the end of it all?’ said Darcy. ‘We won, right?’
Martin shrugged. He felt that somehow the battle was still not quite over.
He looked at Darcy as she licked her ice-cream. He felt peaceful, and yet, at the same time, his heart was racing. She looked so beautiful, sitting in the sun.
He had spent years longing for Darcy, but now things were different. He had proved himself to be strong and courageous. Darcy saw Martin staring at her.
‘What?’ she said.
‘Nothing. I, er…’
‘What is it?’ said Darcy, more softly.
Martin took hold of her hand, and looked straight into her blue eyes. He was still terrified of what she might say, but he had waited far too long already.
‘Will you go out with me, Darcy?’
Darcy didn’t say anything at first. She seemed stunned. Martin suddenly feared that he had made a terrible mistake. But she squeezed his hand.
‘Oh, Martin, of course I will.’
‘Really?’
‘Martin, I’ve been waiting to hear those words for a very long time—’
‘—I’ve wanted to say them for a very long time.’
Martin took Darcy in his arms; they looked into each other’s eyes; they kissed.
*
A week later, Martin woke up to find that a package had been posted through the letterbox. It was strange, because usually the post would arrive much later.
Martin picked up the parcel. It was wrapped with red paper and tied with a blue cord. He removed the cord, opened the package, and pulled out a small letter. It was written in a delicate feminine script.
Dear Martin,
I have acted shamefully and I am dearly sorry. It causes me much pain to write this letter, and I know that it is impossible for me to make amends, but I must try.
I am writing this letter from my deathbed. Chaos approaches, but I feel a strange calm. I am glad that I am dying. Better to die than to live because of the blood spilled by others. I am minutes away from the unknown, and I am sickened when I think about my past evil acts.
I realise that I have caused you much suffering, Martin. Please find enclosed a small gift. I know that nothing can undo what I did. But hopefully this gift will make your life a little more comfortable. I do not expect forgiveness for what I did—I simply hope that the Wheelmaster will show mercy.
Yours,
Kara.
Martin frowned at the letter. What was this? One last trick? He reached into the package, hesitantly, and pulled out a tiny drawstring bag. He poured the contents into his hand.
*
Mr Slater held one of the diamonds up to his eye, surveying it through a brass loupe.
‘They are genuine,’ said Slater.
Martin picked up one of the diamonds and held it up to the light.
‘But they’re huge! They must be worth a fortune!’
‘Indeed,’ said Mr Slater.
Martin grinned. ‘Things are definitely looking up.’
He sat down in one of Mr Slater’s chairs and glanced around the dingy office.
‘It seems strange, sir. To be back living a normal life after everything we’ve been through. Doing schoolwork. Being bad at P.E. It all seems so pointless.’
The teacher smiled. ‘I know what you mean.’
‘What are you going to do now?’ said Martin. ‘I mean, now that your mission is over—now that the Earth is safe and the Isis Crystal has been destroyed?’
‘I won’t be leaving for a few more weeks,’ said Slater. ‘I think it’s only fair that I see you all through to the end of the school year. And then… who knows? I’ve been living on this planet for so many years now it will seem strange to leave. Perhaps I will stay a little longer. I’ve heard Paris is very nice.’
Martin grinned. ‘Do you speak French, sir?’
Mr Slater held up his pocket watch. ‘I speak every language.’ They both smiled. ‘I have heard rumours about you and Darcy,’ said Mr Slater. ‘Are they true?’
‘Yes,’ said Martin, trying not to sound too pleased with himself.
‘Well, I am very happy for you both, and I wish you both well.’
‘Thanks, sir.’ Martin paused. ‘Sir?’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you have someone?’
‘I used to,’ said Mr Slater. ‘A very long time ago. But it wasn’t meant to be.’
‘Oh,’ said Martin. ‘Well, you never know what the future might bring.’
Slater smiled. ‘Indeed. I hear that French women are extremely beautiful.’
Martin got up, grinning. ‘I’d better get going now. Don’t want to be late for English. Goodbye, sir.’
Mr Slater shook his hand.
‘Goodbye, Martin.’
Chapter 14: The Wheelmaster
ONE YEAR LATER…
It was a starless night. Martin, Darcy and Tommy were standing in the centre of a dark field. Faint mist swirled around their feet, and a horse glared at them from out of the gloom.
‘Are you sure this is the place?’ said Darcy.
Martin nodded.
‘So tell me why we’re here again,’ said Tommy. ‘I don’t remember you saying anything about having to stand in a freezing field.’ He glanced at the horse. ‘And I think that horse is going to charge at us soon.’
‘We’re about to get a lift,’ said Martin. He glanced at his phone. ‘Just a few more seconds…’
They waited, but nothing happened. Martin checked the time again.
‘I think they’re a bit late,’ he muttered.
A few more minutes passed. Still nothing. A feeling of dismay came over Martin. Had he simply imagined the whole thing?
‘That horse just spat angrily,’ said Tommy. ‘I really think it’s—’
But then a light appeared in the sky. It looked as small as a star, at first, but it started to become bigger and brighter. Three more lights appeared; they changed from white to blue to gold. A wind began to build up around them.
‘They’re here,’ said Martin.
‘When this is all over we’ll turn up right back in this spot, right?’ said Darcy. ‘It’ll be like no time has even passed.’
‘That’s right,’ shouted Martin, over the wind. ‘I hope…’
The lights were now so bright they had to squint.
‘See you on the other side!’ Darcy shouted, as the lights engulfed them.
TWO WEEKS PREVIOUSLY…
Martin was standing in Camden Market, waiting for Darcy to finish in the toilet. He had spent the entire morning following her around the stalls as she picked up trinkets. Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned.
‘What?’
A Chinese man was standing behind him, dressed in dark robes and wearing a tasselled velvet smoking cap.
‘You are Martin King?’
‘Yes, I am, but—’
The man interrupted him. ‘You must come with me, Martin King.’
Before Martin could protest, the man took him by the arm and led him through a door next to one of the stalls.
I’ve been waiting for Darcy all day—it won’t kill her to wait for me for a few seconds, he thought.
The Chinese man had led him into a windowless shop. It was filled with oriental curiosities—delicate ornaments of animals and gods, rugs, bracelets, rings, boxes of tea, bottles of potions.
‘Who are you?’ said Martin. ‘And how do you know me?’
‘My name is Mr Chan,’ said the man, ‘but I am not important. I simply have a gift for you.’
The Chinese man opened a small cupboard; inside it there was a safe. He entered a code into the safe and opened it, taking out a tiny wooden box.
‘Here,’ he said. ‘This is for you.’
Martin took the box cautiously, and opened it. Inside was a tiny golden figure. It was an angel. He looked up; Mr Chan was grinning at him.
‘Er… thanks, I suppose,’ said Martin, putting the little figure inside his pocket.
Mr Chan opened the door for him on his way out.
‘Look after the statue,’ said the man. ‘It is very important.’
Martin stepped out of the shop; Darcy still hadn’t finished in the bathroom. He waited for a few seconds, and then turned back towards the shop. The door had vanished. Now there was simply bare wall where it had been.
‘Hey,’ said Darcy. Sorry for being ages.’ She frowned, trying to see what he was looking at. ‘What’s so interesting?’
‘Nothing,’ said Martin. ‘It’s just a wall.’
He gave Darcy a kiss. ‘Come on. Let’s see what other delights this place has to offer.’
‘Do I note a hint of sarcasm there…?’
*
That night, Martin placed the statue on his dresser before going to bed, and looked at it for a few moments. It looked like real gold, and it was finely crafted. There was almost something familiar about it—now that he thought about it, the statue looked almost like an Axis Lord…
Martin shrugged and pulled on his pyjamas. His room was spacious and comfortable. Thanks to Moonstone’s gift, Martin now lived with his father in an expensive London flat.
Martin drifted off to sleep, and the golden angel watched him…
*
‘Hello, Martin. I am the Wheelmaster.’
Martin was standing in a beautiful garden. Flowers and shrubs of various kinds grew all around. It was a hot and bright, and the old man was sitting in a wicker chair beside a round table. He was wearing a cream linen suit and a pale blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar.
‘Please, sit,’ said the old man.
‘But, I’m…’
‘Dreaming, yes,’ agreed the man. ‘Now, please, sit.’
Martin sat down at the table. He was still wearing his pyjamas. The old man waved his hand and two glasses of lemonade appeared. He suddenly felt extremely thirsty, so he drank several gulps of the refreshing liquid. The lemonade was the nicest he had ever tasted.
‘Better?’ said the Wheelmaster.
Martin nodded.
‘Good.’
‘You’re the Wheelmaster?’ said Martin. ‘I know about you. You’re XO5’s mortal enemy. The Axis Lords worship you. When I was in the City of Serenity I saw a temple dedicated to you.’
The Wheelmaster smiled. ‘I am.’
‘So is none of this real?’ said Martin. ‘I’m just dreaming, right?’
‘You are dreaming,’ agreed the Wheelmaster. ‘But this is still real. The golden statue given to you by Mr Chan—it is functioning as a sort of link, a mental gateway between my dimension and yours.’
Martin nodded. ‘Right. So what do you want with me?’
‘I will be frank, Martin. I need your assistance.’
‘Why?’
‘You are already aware that I am engaged in an on-going struggle with another being called XO5. In fact, you did a very good job of ruining his plans about two years ago—that dreadful business with the Axis Lady Moonstone.’
‘Why are you both fighting?’ said Martin.
‘Do you believe in God?’ said the Wheelmaster.
Martin shrugged. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Well,’ said the Wheelmaster. ‘I do not ask to be worshipped—however, the Axis Lords have always viewed me as their deity. I tolerate their worship; I must confess that being worshipped is not totally unpleasant to me.
‘The Axis Lords know quite a bit about me, in fact, although they cannot fully comprehend my nature. How could they? However, there is something of which the Axis Lords are in utter ignorance, albeit an ignorance of their own choosing.’
‘XO5, you mean?’ said Martin.
‘Precisely,’ said the Wheelmaster. ‘They have completely rejected the existence of XO5, despite the fact that his evil designs are manifest right across the universe. We exist in a kind of counterpoise, him and I. Evil against good. We… balance each other out, so to speak. I am happy to maintain the status quo, but he is always trying to gain the upper hand. It’s all very tiring, I can tell you.’
‘So why do you need me?’ said Martin.
‘The Axis Lords are under attack. It is all quite clearly the work of XO5, and yet they are too stubborn to admit it. They are such a stiff-necked people, but I have become rather fond of them. Would you mind awfully to pop over and sort out their little problem?’
‘You mean you want me to go and save the Axis Lords from XO5?’
‘Well… yes.’
Martin laughed, and took a sip of his lemonade.
‘You can’t be serious. Why do I have to do it? I’m happy on Earth. I’m going out with the girl I love. I live in a posh apartment in the middle of London. Why would I risk my life?’
‘You would have my protection,’ said the Wheelmaster. ‘I guarantee it. It is simply that I cannot leave this dimension to step into yours. Doing such a thing would wipe out the entire universe.’
Martin sighed. ‘But why me? Why can’t you get somebody else to do it?’
‘You are special, Martin. You are so very special. Moonstone created a false prophecy in order to lure you into the City of Serenity, but she was more right than she knew. The future is still unwritten, but I sense that your finest hours are still ahead of you.’
‘I don’t understand…’
‘Think on this.
If you do not help, children will die on Hope. Billions of children. And XO5 is only attacking the first Axis Planet. Once he has wiped out Hope he may well turn his attention to the others. Will you stand by and let that happen?’
Martin silently cursed the Wheelmaster. He should have known that his peaceful life couldn’t last. But he hated the Wheelmaster even more for being right. He knew that he had no choice.
‘You promise that you won’t let any harm come to me?’ said Martin.
The Wheelmaster smiled. ‘You have my word. Now here’s the plan…’
TWO WEEKS LATER…
Martin, Darcy and Tommy materialised aboard the ship. They stepped out of the teleport rings. They were inside a busy control room—dozens of Axis Lords moved around the room, checking monitors and adjusting controls.
A tall Axis Lord stepped up to meet them. His face was stern and he was wearing ceremonial robes.
‘Greetings,’ said the man. ‘My name is Prince Agamon—I welcome you on behalf of the Axis Council. Now, before we go on to business, do you require any food?’
‘I am quite hungry,’ said Martin.
Tommy nodded.
‘Follow me,’ said the prince.
Prince Agamon led them from the teleport room into a grand hall. Chandeliers hung, suspended on nothing, above them, giving the hall a rich golden glow. A tall table ran from one end of the room to the other; it was covered in food of every description. Martin recognised many of the dishes, but many others looked completely strange.
‘This banquet has been prepared for your arrival,’ said the prince. ‘You will find that it contains a selection of both human and Axis Lord delicacies. If there is anything not to your satisfaction please let me know and I will have the cooks whipped. Now, please excuse me. When you have finished eating please inform one of the servants and we will speak of business.’
Martin King and the Space Angels (Martin King Series) Page 11