‘Just imagine, Martin, what the world would be like without me. Imagine if the Wheelmaster was in sole charge of the world. There would be no emotion, no imagination, and no freedom. The Wheelmaster is not good. He is simply boring.’
Martin paused. ‘I do want to know one thing. Why is everyone so interested in my brain?’
XO5 smiled again. ‘They are interested in your brain because you made a big mistake.’
‘What?’
‘The Isis Mind was built without the capacity to disobey—and if you had told it specifically to completely obliterate every trace of itself it would have had no choice but to comply. But you didn’t. You see, you weren’t specific enough. You told it to destroy the Isis Crystal.’
‘Yes, that’s the same thing.’
XO5 shook his head. ‘No. The Isis Mind is a construction of absolute intelligence—and you left it an easy loophole. It simply destroyed the Isis Crystal. The Isis Mind—the consciousness that was inside the crystal—still exists.’
‘So where is it?’ he asked, somehow already knowing the answer.
XO5 tapped Martin’s forehead with a finger. ‘Inside there. The Isis Mind took the easiest escape route available to it. That’s why creatures from all over the universe have been pouring into Victorian London. You are the lot. They are coming to bid for you.’
‘But—how? How did this come about? I mean—who organised the auction?’
‘Who do you think? The Wheelmaster.’
‘Why would the Wheelmaster do something like that?’
‘The Wheelmaster had planned to hold this auction all along. The original plan was simply to capture the Axis Lord ship and bring you straight here. Your mission to save Hope was a façade. But Professor Witzig—who had obviously heard about your importance—complicated things by sending Dranzig and his men to capture you.
‘But you managed to escape, and the Wheelmaster caused the woman in the teleport booth to send you here. Dr Stahlman was planning to bid for you at The Final Auction, but when he came across you in Mr Addison’s shop, unguarded, he took his chance to get hold of you without having to pay anything.’
‘But why an auction?’ said Martin. ‘Why would the Wheelmaster risk losing me to another bidder?’
‘Oh, I cannot begin to describe the pedantry of the Wheelmaster,’ said XO5. ‘To him, everything must be done according to proper procedure. Even the destruction of the known universe.’
Martin swallowed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Ah, of course, he hasn’t made you party to that particular plan, has he? Yes, the Wheelmaster has become tired of his job, apparently. Keeping the universe in continual balance has become too much for the old man, it seems.’
‘So he wants to destroy the universe?’ said Martin incredulously.
‘In a manner of speaking, yes. If the Wheelmaster gains possession of the Isis Mind, he will finally be able to be rid of me. The world will become a world of grey. All known life will be replaced by… existence.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘The universe will be entirely without colour or shape. There will be no good or bad. There will be no free will. There will be no love, no hatred, no evil, no feeling, no consciousness. Living creatures will no longer live in any meaningful sense. The universe will simply tick on uselessly—forever.’
‘So you want to stop him?’ said Martin.
XO5 grinned.
‘Yes. Well, I’ll be open with you. I want the opposite to the Wheelmaster. I favour a world of confusion, of anarchy, of pure chaos. It’s really up to you—your choice. You have control of the Isis Mind; you can choose between a world of utter evil or utter boredom.’
Martin put his head in his hands.
‘You need time to think,’ said XO5. ‘I totally understand. I will let you leave, but please think about what I have said. And please be sure to attend the auction.’
‘I will,’ said Martin.
‘Thank you,’ said XO5. ‘It was wonderful to meet you at last. Goodbye for now. Oh, and don’t worry about Dr Stahlman. I’ll take care of him.’
XO5 clicked his fingers and Martin was transported back to his own dimension. He was back in The Great Exhibition.
Dr Stahlman, or what was left of him, was lying in front of his machine. Darcy screamed.
‘It’s OK,’ said Martin, putting his arm around her.
‘What happened?’ said Tommy.
Dr Stahlman had turned into a skeleton before their eyes.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Martin. ‘He had worse plans than that for me.’
‘What?’ said Tommy.
‘Never mind. Come on. We have an auction to go to.’
Chapter 17: The Final Auction
Martin and his friends stopped outside the grand house. It was a red-brick building fronted with stone pillars. Martin pulled the card from Mr Addison out of his pocket.
‘39 Grosvenor Square,’ he muttered. ‘This is the place.’
‘Martin, can you just explain one more time?’ said Tommy. ‘What the hell is going on?’
‘Basically, this house is full of aliens who want to buy my brain. Whoever gets my brain gets total control of the universe.’
‘So what are you going to do?’ said Darcy.
Martin looked at Darcy. He wanted to smile at her, to comfort her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right. But he couldn’t.
‘What?’ said Darcy. ‘What are those sad eyes for? What’s going to happen to you?’
‘I’m sorry, Darcy.’
Martin stepped up to the large doors of 39 Grosvenor Square and pushed them open. Inside, an oak-panelled corridor stretched out; at the end of it was another set of doors.
Martin pulled out his pocket watch from his waistcoat. It was five minutes to two. The auction was about to begin.
The corridor was deserted. Martin walked down it, his polished shoes clicking against stone, and paused in front of the oak doors. He took a breath, and then pushed the doors open.
An enormous hall lay beyond the doors. Hundreds and hundreds of seats were filled by representatives from almost every planet in the galaxy. The aliens were all sitting in complete silence.
Martin entered the hall, and the doors slammed behind him, stopping Darcy and Tommy from entering.
Light streamed into the hall from high windows; the vaulted ceiling hung, self-poised, and the bidders were sitting in rows of red-leather seats.
An man stood upon a raised platform, dressed in a white robe. It was the Wheelmaster. He was carrying a gavel, and looked more like a judge than an auctioneer.
‘Good afternoon, Martin King,’ said the Wheelmaster. ‘Thank you for coming. The auction is about to start.’
A large cage lay in the centre of the hall; all of the seats were arranged around it.
Slowly, resignedly, Martin made his way over to the cage and climbed inside. The cage door slammed shut after him, and two Pendulum Officers stood guard beside it. The bidders were still silent.
‘Now, let us be clear,’ said the Wheelmaster. ‘I am simply a mental projection. I cannot technically exist in this dimension, but that does not in any way detract from the authority of this auction. The final result cannot be reversed.
‘Let us begin. The only item up for auction is Lot No. 1—the brain of Martin King. As you are all aware, Martin’s brain contains the Isis Mind, a being created by the Axis Lords with infinite power. Whoever controls the Isis Mind controls the entire universe. Apart from my role of auctioneer, I will also be bidding in this auction, as will my rival.’
Everyone turned to look as XO5 stood up; he was sitting in a row in front of the cage. XO5 grinned, waved, and then sat down again.
‘Anyone doubting the legality of this auction will kindly remember that Earth in this current time period is not subject to the Universal Convention on the Sale of Living Goods.
‘We will start the bidding at ten million gold Kronars. Thank you, ten million to the b
lue gentlemen. Eleven million to the naked lady. Twelve million to the lady in the fetching pink dress. Thirteen million to you, sir. Fourteen million to the ambassador from Venus…’
And so it went on. Martin stood, caged, his head bowed, as the bids were made. Half an hour later, the price stood at 35 trillion Kronars. The bids had slowed down, and most of the people had stopped bidding about five minutes previously.
‘Do I hear 36 trillion? No? Then I will make a personal bid for 37 trillion.’
XO5 stood up. ‘38 trillion.’
‘39 trillion,’ said the Wheelmaster.
‘40 trillion.’
‘45 trillion.’
‘100 trillion!’
‘300,000 trillion!’
‘Look,’ said XO5. ‘This is pointless and we both know it. We are beings of unlimited power—we can create any amount of money at will.’
‘Are you suggesting that we bypass proper procedure?’ said the Wheelmaster.
‘Yes,’ said XO5. ‘Yes I am. Listen, why don’t you let Martin decide for himself? Otherwise we will be sitting here for the next seventy, eighty years, and Martin will die before we reach a result. Let Martin decide who gets his mind.’
The bidders were silent; none of them would ever dare to interrupt XO5 or the Wheelmaster.
‘Fine,’ said the Wheelmaster. ‘Martin King will be allowed to make the choice.’
The Wheelmaster looked at Martin.
‘Well, Martin, what is your decision?’
XO5 stood up. ‘You know what is right, Martin. I know you. I understand you. I know that you could never accept the kind of world that the Wheelmaster would create.’
Martin looked from one being to the other.
‘How can I decide?’ he said. ‘I’m choosing between two evils. I don’t want to live in a universe entirely dominated by either of you.’
‘Nonsense,’ said the Wheelmaster. ‘If you were in my place you would totally understand my viewpoint. You have no idea how tiring it is to constantly have to offset the extravagancies of this fellow. Things would be so much simpler with me in total command.’
‘I like the world the way it is,’ said Martin. ‘It’s the world I’ve always known, and I don’t think it should be any other way. Yes, I’d like there to be a little less crime, a little less hatred, but that’s not something that’s incompatible with either of your beliefs.’
Martin looked at XO5. ‘You told me yourself that you don’t seek evil, only change. Why can’t you both just work together? If you could get yourselves in perfect balance you wouldn’t have to keep up this eternal cat and mouse game!’
‘That’s very easy for you to say,’ said the Wheelmaster. ‘But you don’t know what he’s like!’ He looked into Martin’s eyes. ‘You don’t have to die, you know. You can simply transfer the Isis Mind into mine.’
‘And what will happen to you?’ said Martin.
‘I will destroy XO5 and I will rule eternally over a pure universe.’ The Wheelmaster sighed. ‘Believe me, Martin, I wish I could be destroyed. But the universe must be maintained—if I were to die so would the universe—and nobody else would be mad enough to take up the mantle.’
Martin suddenly had an idea.
‘What if they did?’ he said.
‘What?’
‘What if someone did want to take over from you?’ said Martin. ‘Me, for example. I could take over your job. And I could try to work out some sort of compromise with XO5. We could begin by splitting the Isis Mind and keeping half each; that way neither of us would attain ultimate power.’
XO5 stood up.
‘What about it, Wheelmaster? The only reason I wanted the Isis Mind was so that you couldn’t have it, because you wanted to destroy me. Why not let Martin take your place?’
The Wheelmaster shook his head.
‘But why would you want to do that, Martin? You would be consigning yourself to a life of eternity, a life of endless work, endless universal maintenance. Trust me, I know!’
‘I’ll do it,’ said Martin. ‘Providing you send Darcy and Tommy back to their own time, unharmed.’
The Wheelmaster and XO5 looked at each other; they both nodded.
‘Well,’ said the Wheelmaster. ‘I must offer you my sincerest thanks. And I wish you well.’
‘Just a moment,’ said XO5, looking at the Wheelmaster. ‘We’re both beings of unlimited power, right? Well, I propose a small change to Martin’s plan.’
*
Martin and Darcy strolled by the river. They were back in the present day. The sky was darkening over the water.
‘Do you think the world is safe now?’ said Darcy.
Martin shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I hope so.’
He looked up at the reddish sky. Two months ago, at The Final Auction, when Martin had volunteered to take over from the Wheelmaster, XO5 had come up with a slightly different idea.
‘It’s so strange,’ he muttered.
‘What is?’
‘To think that there’s a copy of me out there somewhere—beyond our galaxy, beyond our universe—keeping everything in balance.’
Darcy looked at the sky.
‘It could have been me, you know,’ said Martin. ‘I did volunteer. It could have been me living forever, keeping the wheel in eternal motion.’ He paused. ‘I feel sorry for him.’
‘Why?’
‘Because he doesn’t have you. He must be the loneliest man in the universe.’
Darcy squeezed his hand.
‘I love you, Martin King.’
‘I love you, too, Darcy Williams.’
*
Martin King sat in a wicker chair in the bright garden, wearing a cream linen suit, sipping a cup of coffee and watching the sunset that he had created.
He put his cup down and a red-haired girl took it away.
‘Thank you,’ he said to her, winking.
Martin put his hands behind his head, and put on a booming voice.
‘I, Martin King, have unlimited control over the entire universe.’
‘Well, not quite unlimited control,’ said a voice.
XO5 had appeared next to him. Martin grinned.
‘How are things?’
‘Oh, not bad. I’ve just been stirring up some trouble in the Ison cluster.’
‘You could have at least waited until I’d finished my coffee.’
XO5 laughed, and the two beings of almost unlimited power watched the sunset together.
‘So, I’m the Wheelmaster now,’ said Martin. ‘It’s funny how things turn out, isn’t it?’
Epilogue
The Supreme Courtroom of the Axis Lords was famed throughout the entire Blue galaxy for its sheer grandeur. It wasn’t actually located on an Axis planet, but on an asteroid in a nearby star system. This meant that the Axis Lords did not technically have to abide by the Universal Convention on Civil and Criminal Trials.
The judge presided over the courtroom from a raised platform made from solid gold and encrusted with precious stones. The Axis Lords didn’t place any value on these materials themselves, but they knew that such splendor struck fear into the hearts of neighboring peoples.
Crystal chandeliers hung over the courtroom. The hall was so large and the ceiling was so high that they had to be exceedingly bright; if you looked at them directly for longer than a second you would temporarily blind yourself.
The stained glass windows served as a sobering reminder of the sacred text of the Axis Lords, the Chronicle of Spirits. Each panel depicted a story from the Chronicle. The beauty of the stained glass was never remarked upon. First of all, any discussion of aesthetics was illegal. Secondly, Axis Lords didn’t usually notice that kind of thing. The stained glass was beautiful, but that was because it had been commissioned 25,000 years ago and crafted by a Thieron.
One of the window panels was blacked out. It was the panel that had formerly documented the eternal struggle between XO5 and the Wheelmaster.
‘All in the courtroom shall sta
nd,’ said the judge.
In an Axis courtroom, the only figure of any real significance is the judge. Axis courts do not have a jury, and the lawyers are only really there to assuage officials from the Universal Justice Federation. The spectators rose, as did the two lawyers.
Only one man did not stand.
‘The defendant shall stand!’ said the judge.
But he still did not stand. The judge pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his reddening brow. The man in the dock was called Mulciber.
The judge looked with disgust upon the man. ‘The defendant shall state his name.’
Mulciber ignored him.
‘The defendant refuses to state his name,’ said the judge. He mopped his angry brow again. ‘Very well. As the defendant stands charged of 23 counts of murder, 13 counts of degeneracy, and 43 counts of writing poetry I would have expected more cooperation.’
Mulciber still did not reply; he simply smiled at the judge. The defendant was wearing a black frock coat and a waistcoat. At a quick glance, he would appear to be nothing but a normal Axis Lord. But if you looked more closely, you would notice odd details. The Axis Lord’s white hair was slicked back, and his purple eyes had a dangerous glint. Mulciber’s waistcoat was a non-standard emerald green, and he had a piece of bone attached to his watch chain.
The judge restated the charges and the court went through its usual long-winded proceedings. Mulciber’s lawyer gave a half-hearted and unconvincing explanation as to why Mulciber’s crimes were not as serious as might be assumed. The lawyer knew that there was little point to his comments. For one thing, the Axis Lord legal system was the most authoritarian and draconian in the universe. Also, Mulciber was the worst criminal that had ever been brought before the court.
‘Well,’ said the judge finally. ‘I have had ample opportunity to think about your crimes and decide what the just punishment for you would be.’
The spectators were silent; many of them had lost relatives because of Mulciber and they were hungry for his blood. The severity of his crimes meant the death penalty was virtually assured. Suddenly, Mulciber looked at the judge, and his eyes flashed green.
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