Frozen Enemies

by Zac Harrison

  “I can take care of it!” John yelled back. “See if you can do anything with this.”

  The Comet Creative spun through the air. With a flurry of wings, Kaal dived sideways and snatched it. John was already stumbling backward through the water, tossing more chunks of ice and rock at the Subo. “Call yourself an elite warrior?” he shouted. “I’ve seen better fighters in nursery school playgrounds.”

  With a grunt, the Subo summoned what was left of its strength, charging John with unexpected speed.

  John looked up into a massive jaw edged with knife-like teeth. Dropping to the ground and rolling away, John splashed through water and jumped back onto his feet by the Subo’s side, reaching out for the laser-horn that was still sticking out of the warrior’s skin. With a fleshy sucking noise it came free, making the Subo scream in pain. Black blood spattered across John’s face.

  The Subo writhed in pain. John risked a glance towards Kaal. Close to the Omega-bot barrier where the water was more shallow, the Derrilian worked on the Comet Creative with his ToTool.

  Raising his new weapon, John prepared to throw himself at the Subo again.

  “John! Be careful!”A rock hurtled through the air. Emmie. It missed the Subo and clattered behind John.

  She’s got a great throwing arm, but really bad aim.

  The thought was interrupted by a low snarl. Heart frozen, John spun around. A Goran was staring at him through one great eye in the middle of its shell. Between huge pincers it held the rock Emmie had thrown.

  For a single moment everything was still. Then the Goran opened its pincers, letting the rock fall into the water that swirled around its short, heavily armoured legs. “You are not a part of the Goran army, small alien,” it said. “Therefore, you must be with the Subo. You are my enemy.”

  At the same time, John heard a roar behind him. He spun around again. Blood dripping from its wound, the Subo glared at him with hatred in its eyes. It seemed so intent on revenge against John that it had forgotten its original enemy.

  John looked from one alien to another.

  “RUN, JOHN!” Emmie screamed.

  The sound drove both creatures into action. The ground beneath John’s feet rumbled as they rushed towards him.

  Running was useless. John was caught between two terrifying aliens, his only weapon a broken laser-horn.

  Emmie shouted again, her voice cracking with a sob of fear.

  Neither alien took any notice. Both were focused on their prey. They knew it could not escape.

  John squared his shoulders. Might as well go down fighting, he thought. Trapped between the oncoming warriors, he brandished the laser-horn in the air. On one side, the Subo reared up again; on the other, the Goran’s huge pincers reached out to tear him apart.

  John stood his ground. “Come on, then!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

  The Goran was closer. Leaving himself open to attack from the Subo on the opposite side, John swung the laser-horn with all his might. It smashed into the alien beast’s pincer with a sharp crunching noise. The tip of its claw snapped off and flew into the mud. John yelled in jubilation as the creature shrieked in pain.

  His moment of triumph was short-lived. One pincer was damaged but the Goran had plenty more. It leaped at John, claws clacking in fury. At the same time the Subo fell upon him, its mouth roaring for revenge. It was so near, John could smell its foul breath.

  He tried swinging his weapon again. It was no good – the aliens were right on top of him. Instinctively, he ducked and squeezed his eyes closed as a giant claw thrust at him. The shrieking Subo snapped at his head.

  John steeled himself for what was to come. He hoped it would be quick.

  This is it.

  Chapter 14

  Time seemed to slow down. A thousand memories chased through John’s mind. Thoughts of his parents and friends, home: all the things he would never see again.

  The moment seeemed to stretch. John had heard that people in terrible danger often reported later that their entire lives had flashed before their eyes. He hadn’t expected the experience would take so long, though. He clenched his teeth, waiting for the mauling he was sure would begin at any moment.

  “John! John! Are you all right?” It was Emmie’s voice, shouting from a distance.

  An unbelievable sight met his eyes as they blinked open: the Goran and Subo were moving backward.

  Adrenalin surged through him. Surely the beasts were only readying themselves for a fresh attack. “Cowards!” he yelled, swinging the laser-horn. “Come on, let’s finish this.”

  Still, the creatures moved away. John frowned. There was something odd about their movements. The way they were backing off looked like someone had pressed “rewind” on an old video player.

  Kaal landed by his side. “It’s OK,” the Derrilian said gently, dodging to avoid the weapon John was still whipping around dangerously. “You can put that down now. I think I sorted it.”

  “W-what?” John stared at his friend, unable to grasp what he was hearing. Every part of him was ready for a fight to the death: his death.

  “Please, drop it before you take someone’s eye out.”

  Unwilling to let go of his only weapon, John’s fingers stayed clenched around it, though he stopped waving it around.

  “What are you saying?” John demanded.

  Emmie waded over to join them. “It’s over,” she panted. “Kaal did it. Thanks to you.” She flung her arms around him, sobbing. “I thought you were going to die.”

  At last, John dropped the laser-horn. Returning Emmie’s fierce hug, he looked over her head at Kaal. “I-I d-don’t understand,” he stammered.

  “Look around.”

  John turned his head. The Goran had backed into the battle and now appeared to be bringing a Subo back to life. As its pincers touched the Subo, its enemy’s wounds closed. The Subo looked healthier with every moment and was now thrashing wildly. Bursts of light erupted from blackened holes in the Goran’s shell and disappeared into the tip of its laser-horn, leaving the Goran untouched.

  He looked the other way. The Subo that had attacked them seemed to be performing some kind of dance. John watched as it flopped backward through the mud. It turned, roaring at the place by the Omega-bots’ force field where John had been standing a few moments earlier, then continued its backward shuffle. It was still for a moment, then reared up, snapping at an invisible opponent.

  Behind the force field, John could see Hyperspace High students leaping in the air with joy.

  John glanced down. Water, too, was flowing in reverse. His eyes followed it. The stasis cube was beginning to reform. Subo and Goran were skittering backward across the ice, lines of warriors hurling themselves away from each other to take up their original positions. Explosions became implosions, fiery blossoms closing with a strange roar that was suddenly silenced.

  “How?” John asked.

  Kaal held up the Comet Creative. “Simple,” he said. “Although not that simple, even if I say so myself. At first I thought the device must be an anti-stasis emitter that reverses the polarity of the suspension particles at a quantum level, but actually it’s more sophisticated than that. It sends out a highly charged temporal field that attaches itself to anything with a stasis signature...”

  John listened as Kaal reeled off technical information that meant nothing to him. “Any chance you can repeat all that in words I might actually understand?” he cut in when the Derrilian took a breath.

  Kaal grinned. “The Comet Creative created a time field that took the stasis cube and everything in it back to a moment just before it was created, thirty thousand years ago,” he explained. “Whoever made it disabled the function that would allow it to be reversed. Once I knew what it was, it was a pretty easy repair job.”

  “Pretty easy?” John gaped. “A pretty easy repair job? Where did you
learn to do something like that?”

  “Hyperspace High is the best school in the galaxy,” Kaal said, shrugging.

  “So how come we’re not going backward too?” asked Emmie, watching in fascination as water ran up the sides of the stasis cube. It was quieter now. Only a few Goran and Subo were making their reverse battle cries. The rest had disappeared under ice. The water was rapidly disappearing.

  “We weren’t in the cube,” Kaal replied. “The field only interfered with anything that was originally held in stasis.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” John said, shaking his head.

  Kaal slapped him on the shoulder. “Well,” he grinned. “If you didn’t fall asleep in lessons all the time, you’d—”

  He didn’t make it to the end of the sentence. The three friends were suddenly mobbed by the rest of the class.

  “Chang-do’s Holy Bath Tub! Are you guys all right?” yelled Lishtig. “I thought you were goners for sure.”

  “That Goran had its claws right round your neck, John,” Werril bellowed in his ear. “Right round your neck. I couldn’t even look.”

  “You were brilliant,” Queelin shouted over the yells of relief and congratulations. “The way you took on both of those horrible things—”

  “Hey, it was Kaal who fixed everything,” John interrupted.

  “Well, I wouldn’t have been able to fix anything if Emmie hadn’t rescued me from the water,” Kaal replied, looking embarrassed.

  A loud electronic voice interrupted the excitement. “Visit terminated. Return to the space dock and leave the planet immediately.”

  The class looked round. They were surrounded by Omega-bots.

  John broke the silence. After the terrors he had just experienced, the menacing droids of Archivus Major didn’t seem all that frightening. “Actually, that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” he said. “Plus, Ms Vartexia should be waking up right about now.”

  “Thank goodness she wasn’t here,” said Emmie. “She’d have had a double heart attack.”

  As the class began walking back to the Shuttletube, escorted by what looked like 100 Omega-bots, John noticed a fleck of red in the mud. He bent to pick it up.

  “What’s that?” asked Kaal, leaning over his shoulder for a better look.

  “Piece of the Goran’s claw I broke off,” John told him, turning it between his fingers. “It didn’t make it back into the stasis cube.”

  “Nice souvenir.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking.” John tucked it his pocket.

  * * *

  “Goodness me!” screeched Ms Vartexia, as she opened her eyes to see the entire class peering at her. “What time is it? Have I missed breakfast?”

  “I’m afraid so,” said Bareon cheerfully. “Lunch, too.”

  The Hyperspace History teacher looked aghast. “You mean I’ve been asleep half the day?” she blurted. “How on Elvar did that happen? Where have you all been? Why did no one wake me? What are those Omega-bots doing here?”

  “One question at a time,” replied Bareon soothingly. “Everyone is fine. We tried to wake you but you must have eaten too much Elvian spaghetti last night.”

  Hiding at the back of the group with Kaal and Emmie, so that the teacher couldn’t see their torn, mud-stained clothing, John grinned. Bareon had cleverly avoided Ms Vartexia’s questions about the Omega-bots by reminding her of her own mistake. He watched as the Elvian’s face turned green.

  “Too much spaghetti? Oh no, it can’t have been that. I only had—”

  “Four bowls,” Queenlin supplied.

  Ms Vartexia flushed an even deeper green. An Elvian blush, John guessed.

  “I don’t know what came over me. Well, perhaps we should all head back to Hyperspace High before something awful happens. I am sorry, you must have had a terribly boring morning.”

  “Yes, Ms Vartexia,” the class chorused.

  * * *

  One by one the Privateers swept into space. Yesterday seemed a million years ago, as did the nerves John had suffered over his take-off and landing. Now, he executed a perfect exit from the planet’s atmosphere without thinking about it. His mind was on something else. As the small spaceships cleared the web of security satellites orbiting Archivus Major, he activated a communications channel to Kaal and Emmie’s ships. “I can’t stop thinking there is something really weird about Graximus Greyfore,” he said abruptly.

  “You said something about him planning the whole thing earlier,” Emmie answered. “I wasn’t really listening, though. Sorry, I was scared out of my mind at the time.”

  “I was wondering about it, too,” said Kaal. “The Comet Creative looked like a 4-D camera on the outside but there was no image capture technology inside at all.”

  “Why would the curator want to unfreeze a whole battle, though?” Emmie asked. “I mean, did you see what that Subo’s laser did to the Omega-bot? It wouldn’t have taken long for either army to break through the force field and then—”

  All three of them were quiet for a moment, thinking about what might have happened if the warring Goran and Subo had broken free.

  “It might have been a mistake,” said Kaal eventually. “These things happen. Maybe he’s like Ms Vartexia. Perhaps he gave Emmie the wrong device by accident.”

  “No, I’m certain he planned it,” said John firmly. “He told Emmie she would get extra marks, but how could he make a promise like that if it was a secret from Ms Vartexia and Lorem? Plus, he was very keen to recommend the Elvian spaghetti to Ms Vartexia.”

  “And he told Mordant that the Vapourball Championship was on a planet close to Archivus Major,” Kaal said thoughtfully.

  “So, everything that went wrong can be traced back to Graximus Greyfore,” said John. “But Emmie’s right: why? Why would the curator try and wreck his most famous exhibit?”

  “Unless Graximus Greyfore isn’t everything he seems,” said Kaal.

  Silence descended again. Stars and planets swept by, but this time none of them bothered to look. Each was lost in their own thoughts, as their ships powered through space.

  After a minute had passed, Emmie sighed. “Do you think this means I won’t get extra marks?”

  Chapter 15

  “So, I guess we should tell Ms Vartexia what really happened on Archivus Major before we get back,” said John. As the words left his mouth, a light flashed on the Privateer’s display skin.

  “Emergency distress beacon detected at coordinates eighty-four point twelve point eight two zero,” the computer announced. “A point-three FTL Jet. Identity codes confirm it is an Archivus Major craft. Instructions?”

  Instantly, John forgot about Graximus Greyfore and the Comet Creative. He didn’t hesitate. During Space Flight Theory lessons, Sergeant Jegger had drummed emergency procedures into his students. Every pilot knew that a ship in trouble should be approached with extreme caution. Putting aside all other thoughts, John immediately began the procedures Jegger had taught. “Scan for weapons, engine efficiency, and signs of damage,” he said automatically. “Establish a communication channel, code one, and prepare to intercept. Magnify.”

  An image of a clunky-looking white spaceship with Archivus Major markings appeared on the screen. “Intercept course plotted,” said the computer. “No weapons. Engines and communication systems inoperative. Distress call level alpha.”

  Opening a new channel, John said, “Ms Vartexia, I’m receiving a distress call. A ship from Archivus Major.”

  “We are all picking up the same signal,” Ms Vartexia replied. Her voice sounded clipped and efficient but, beneath, John heard a quiver of worry. He knew what was causing it. Without communications, there was no way of knowing what had happened aboard the distressed ship. Whatever it was might put the students in danger. But every pilot in the galaxy knew that a distress beacon could not be ignored. S
eriously injured beings might be on-board.

  Ms Vartexia appeared to reach a decision. Sounding more sure of herself, she began to give orders: “John Riley, you are two minutes closer than the next ship. Proceed to the coordinates and lock onto the craft with your tractor beam. Take it directly to Hyperspace High. The rest of us will take formation beta twelve around you and escort you in. All craft maintain a continuous scan. Keep communication channels open. At the slightest sign of unusual activity, every ship is to leave the vicinity of the damaged vessel immediately. Clear?”

  “Yes, Ms Vartexia.” Switching navigation to manual, John increased his speed and turned away on a new heading. Within a few minutes, he no longer needed the magnified image of the crippled ship. It was dead ahead: a slowly spinning spaceship larger than the Privateer. It reminded John of a large camper van.

  Cutting speed, he took his ship close. There was no sign of life and no clue to what had happened inside. Carefully, he turned the Privateer and brought it to a complete stop.

  “Computer: tractor the distressed ship on my mark. Go.”

  “Tractor beam engaged.”

  John looked over his shoulder. The Archivus Major ship had stopped spinning. It was held fast by a glowing white energy field. “Maintain constant scan and set course for Hyperspace High. Maximum speed.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Ms Vartexia and the rest of the class brought their ships into tight formation around him. All communication channels stayed open but there was a tense silence as John pulled the mysterious ship through space.

  * * *

  “Approaching Hyperspace High,” the computer reported.

  Ahead was the elegant sweep of Hyperspace High, blazing with light. With a slight shock, John realized how happy and relieved he was to see the colossal ship: it was almost like coming home. But the feeling faded quickly, replaced instead by alarm. Soon he would have to land the Privateer, and he would have to do so with another ship in tow. He gulped nervously.

  Alarm swiftly started turning to panic as he neared Hyperspace High. The open bay doors looked like the eye of a needle. Far too small to get a spaceship through.