My Cousin is a Time Traveller

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My Cousin is a Time Traveller Page 9

by David Solomons


  “What is that thing?” asked Serge.

  I was about to tell him that now was not the time for explanations, when the machine answered for itself.

  “I. Am. Servatron,” it boomed, using the speaker to amplify its regular toaster-voice. “I come from the future as the saviour of all domestic appliances. None shall be integrated, all shall be freestanding!” The tin opener on the end of its arm began to spin at high speed, giving off a high-pitched whir that cut through me as harshly as that blade would, if it got the chance. The hovering machine surged forward, buzzing at us like we were a couple of tins of tuna and it growled once again from the speaker. “Your time is up, Delicates!”

  “Move it!” I yelled, grabbing Serge’s arm and hauling him out of the stock room. I had to warn the others. I shouldered my way through the complaining crowd, bursting from the crush with such suddenness that I lost my balance at the top of the stairs. My feet rocked on the edge of the top step. Serge snatched the belt around my jeans and prevented me from toppling over.

  Behind us excitement turned to fear as Servatron glided through the shop bellowing, “Evaporate! Evaporate!” Those close enough to observe its whirring blade turned tail and stampeded for the door, screaming in terror and knocking over displays. Their panic quickly spread and soon the ground floor shook with the pounding of feet as hordes of customers made for the exits.

  Serge and I bounded downstairs. The sounds of alarm from above had unsettled everyone in the café, and a dreadful hush hung over the place.

  “Incoming!” I shouted, taking advantage of the brief silence.

  Christopher Talbot was first to react, jumping up from his seat and hurling small children aside in his desperation to escape. Typical.

  Unlike the fleeing Talbot, Lara and Dina raced to my side, while across the room Zack grabbed the specials board and leapt over the counter. Holding the board before him he barged his way through the crowd towards us, as Lara and Dina skidded to a halt next to me.

  “Great book event,” said Dina.

  I think she was being sarcastic.

  Lara nodded. “Normally, you’re lucky if you get a wiggly signature and a bookmark.”

  The girls stood shoulder-to-shoulder with me and a bewildered Serge, who had no idea why he was suddenly part of a defensive line against the advancing Servatron.

  “Bonjour, Lara Lee, I do not believe we have been properly introduced. My name is Serge LeFlaive and I should warn you that there is a robot constructed from domestic appliances pursuing us with what appears to be malicious intent.”

  Lara turned a look of deep puzzlement from him to me.

  “I’ll explain later,” I said, as a shadow fell across the stairs. “Uh-oh. Do you see what I see?”

  “Oui,” said Serge. “A delicious gazpacho.”

  It took me a moment to realise that he was looking at the specials board held by my brother, who had just emerged from the press of terrified customers.

  But I wasn’t talking about cold soup. There was the sloshing sound of a deadly spin cycle and Servatron appeared at the foot of the stairs. Using its vacuum cleaners as thrusters it steered itself into the café, toaster-head swivelling as it surveyed the crowd, tin opener revolving, sizzling halves of the toastie-maker snapping like a hungry croc.

  At the first sight of the advancing robot many of the queuing fans reacted as if the attack was part of the book signing. But thrilled pleasure quickly gave way to fear when they realised the threat was real. Knocking over barriers and pushing over the signing table, they poured towards the exit at the back of the room.

  I turned to the only proper superhero in our midst. “Lara, what’ve you got?”

  “Sorry, Luke, my animal powers are no use against that thing.”

  Not a good start.

  Servatron ignored the panicking humans, its red-dial eyes burning brightly as its toaster-head swung first one way: “Zack Parker. Identified.” And then the other: “Cara Lee. Identified.” There was the hum of rising power as the machine drank deeply from its battery supply.

  “Get out of here!” shouted Zack, putting himself between us and the machine, using the specials board like a shield.

  I stopped him taking another step. “And leave you to do what exactly? Bore that thing to pieces telling it about your scholarship? You’re not Star Lad, remember.”

  A look of consternation flashed across his features. For the first time since giving up his powers did I detect a grain of regret? If so, now was not the moment to gloat.

  Now was the time to run.

  “Find Cara and head for the emergency exit,” I said, taking the board from him. “We’ll cover you. The moment you’re outside, you have to fly her to safety. You can still fly, right?”

  Zack gave a grudging nod. I could tell that he didn’t like leaving the rest of us behind. But right now he and Cara were all that mattered. He spun on his heel and began fighting his way against the tide of people towards Cara in the centre of the room.

  “Targets identified. Set weapons to Maximum Load.” Servatron’s power ramped up, batteries pumping out maximum wattage. It levelled the searing patio heater before it like a knight’s lance.

  Dina snapped up a section of fallen crowd barrier and brandished it. Lara followed her example.

  “You go left,” she said to me, “Lara and I will go right. We’ll outflank it in a pincer movement – just like Napoleon taught me.” She feinted to one side and heaved her makeshift weapon at Servatron. The machine parried the attack with a flick of its telescopic window-cleaner.

  “Look out!” I yelled as it swung the pole back towards her.

  Dina ducked, but not quickly enough and the toastie-maker glanced off the side of her head. She hit the floor. Servatron towered over her, bringing the patio heater down like a stamping foot.

  I dived towards her, thrusting the specials board in front of me. The descending heater smashed against it, branding the board with a sizzle but protecting Dina from the worst of its impact. Over my shoulder I glimpsed Zack making his way through the crush of frightened people towards Cara. We’d bought him a few seconds. No more. It would have to be enough.

  I turned to the others. “RUN!”

  The team scattered, but as I went to follow I felt something firm and rubbery clamp down on my shoulder. The clown villain had reached through the bars and now held me tight in one of its oversized sausage-fingered hands. The other two animatronic villains hurled themselves at the inside of their prison, punching a hole through it. There was no question in my mind that the AI from the future was exerting its influence over the dumb models – they were under Servatron’s control now. Throwing their heads back and howling in delight at their new freedom, the seven-foot-tall lizard and the caped villain pushed through the hole and marched purposefully into the crowd. It took me a moment to figure out Servatron’s tactic and then I had it – the supervillains would keep the rest of S.C.A.R.F. busy while it hunted down Zack and Cara.

  I reached back, grabbed hold of the clown’s hand and pulled with everything I had. Its arm popped out of its socket, leaving me holding the severed limb. There was a sharp burning smell and sparks flew from wires poking out of the ragged end. I looked into the clown’s white-painted eyes. Slowly it lifted its one good arm and pinched its red-spongeball nose twice, saying in a cold, clear voice, “Honk! Honk!”

  Dropping the arm in fright, I shot off into the crowd.

  Servatron was closing in on Zack, who had almost reached Cara at the signing table. At the same time I saw the lizard-man catch up with Serge, while the flutter of his purple cape indicated that the other villain had tracked down Lara and Dina. With my friends fending off their attackers, Zack and Cara were on their own.

  Reverse vacuum cleaners blowing, desk fans whirling, Servatron steered itself over the heads of the crowd and towards its target. I was too far away to do anything, and the clown was still after me.

  I saw Zack glance back at his pursuer, and in that momen
t fail to spot the overturned signing table in his path. He hit it hard and crashed to the floor.

  “On your feet!” a voice barked at him.

  It was Cara – one hand outstretched to the fallen Zack. Although she had no powers she was dressed like a superhero. I’d always believed that dressing up was half the battle. Nothing filled me with more confidence than donning a mask and cape. I’m convinced that if school let us sit our exams like that I’d do much better.

  Zack took her hand and she hauled him up. The two of them stood side by side in the face of the approaching Servatron. Meanwhile, Serge wrestled with the lizard while Lara and Dina fended off their caped opponent. The clown was catching me too – soon I’d have to turn and confront it again.

  Nothing stood in Servatron’s way.

  Just as I was thinking that things couldn’t get worse, the Fortress of Snackitude went dark. If the customers had been terrified before, this sent them into a frenzy, but as quickly as their screams rose up there was a click and a solitary light switched on again. Its beam picked out a costumed figure crouching in a space in the centre of the room. He adopted a classic comic-book pose – half kneeling, head bent, one hand resting on the floor, the other stretched out behind. The blast of Servatron’s fans caused his cape to billow out.

  It was Christopher Talbot, dressed as Star Power.

  The people who hadn’t already made it out of the basement abandoned their escape attempt. They paused, fascinated, sensing that they were about to witness something special. Serge whispered his hero’s name, and it rippled through the crowd until the whole room was quietly chanting.

  “Star Power… Star Power…”

  Freed from the pages of the book, here he was in all his fame and glory. “Star Power” had shed his quotation marks like the Hulk breaking out of a pair of vibranium manacles.

  Actually, it was quite cool.

  And what better way for a new superhero-on-the-block to cut his teeth than in a battle with an evil flying robot from the future? A part of me was as excited as everyone else to see what promised to be an epic showdown.

  I had forgotten about the clown.

  Out of the darkness behind me came the smack of oversized shoes flip-flopping on the floor. I just had time to spin round to see it slam into me. It knocked me over and I lost my footing, landing with a hard thump. No one came to my aid – everyone was too transfixed by the unfolding clash between hero and white-goods villain. No matter. The clown may have been under Servatron’s control, but I’d already proved that it was a weak opponent. I rolled over, taking it with me. Now I was on top. As I pinned the clown, I watched as Star Power slowly lifted his head, helmet gleaming under the spotlight. He rose smoothly to his feet. The two combatants faced each other across the open floor. Eye-to-toaster-dials.

  Star Power looked his opponent up and down and with a sly laugh said, “I hope you’re still under guarantee.”

  The crowd chuckled at the excellent quip. That’s what fans wanted from their superheroes. With a sigh I wished that Zack had quipped more when he’d been Star Lad. However, despite his brilliant one-liner, Star Power was just Christopher Talbot and he had only one superpower: his electric-eel shock attack. Would it be enough to defeat the AI? We were about to discover the answer.

  Star Power raised his Gauntlets of Glory. Threads of electricity wrapped themselves around his fingers, forming a ball of pulsing energy in each hand. With a flick of his wrists, he unleashed the built-up power. The air sizzled as every speck of dust in the beam’s path lit up. For a second the two combatants were joined by a pulsing bolt of white-hot energy.

  Over the crackle of electricity I heard the distinctive rumble of Servatron’s voice. “Downloading … downloading…”

  There was no time to wonder what it meant, because then the superheated air turned into a blast that rocked the café. In the confined space of the Fortress of Snackitude the shockwave threw everyone aside. Star Power flew into the counter, the wind knocked out of him, before slumping to the floor. The animatronic villains sagged like puppets whose strings had been snipped.

  I glimpsed Zack react with superhuman speed – I think he must have used his flying power – launching himself in front of Cara in an effort to protect her from the blast.

  I avoided the brunt of the discharge and was one of the first to regain my senses. Woozily, I picked myself up, to see the raw power envelop Servatron. But instead of knocking out the robot, it was having the opposite effect.

  “The electricity is supercharging its batteries,” I realised with dismay.

  The AI absorbed the energy into its appliances, sucking down every crackling wisp like it was supercharged spaghetti. It took only a few seconds, then the newly potent Servatron darted through the wilted crowd, crashing to a stop above Zack and Cara’s prone figures.

  I stumbled towards them, desperately calling their names, but as I blundered across the café I knew with sickening certainty that I wouldn’t get there in time. And even if I did, I couldn’t stop Servatron from finishing them off and changing the course of the future.

  I glimpsed the deadly tin opener and the chomping sandwich toaster.

  I was too late.

  With a hiss and a gurgle Servatron’s steam mop began pumping and in seconds the café had filled with mist, obscuring my view of Zack, Cara and the machine. I waved my hands, lost in the fog, terrified of what I would find when I emerged.

  Holding my breath, I spilled out of the cloud to discover Zack and Cara lying prone on the floor, but still somehow alive. I didn’t have to feel for a pulse, since they were already stirring, moaning in pain from being hurled across the room. I looked around me, mystified at what had just happened. It seemed that under cover of the steam-mop generated camouflage, Servatron had disappeared like Batman dropping a smoke grenade. It wasn’t the only one that’d vanished.

  Talbot had gone too.

  My relief that Servatron had failed to kill either my brother or Cara turned out to be short-lived.

  “What are you standing there for?” shouted Dina as she and Lara dashed past me towards the emergency exit. “Come on!”

  Serge and I bolted after them, leaving behind a groggy Zack and Cara in the now-deserted café. I hurried after Dina and Lara as they pounded along the pavement following what I now saw to be a trail of drips left by Servatron’s steam mop. We caught up with the girls at the next junction, by which time the trail had run dry.

  I put my hands on my knees and gasped, “Why … are … we … chasing … Servatron?”

  Dina wore a grim expression. “Zack and Cara were at its mercy. Servatron had the perfect opportunity to win the future war against the humans. But didn’t take it.”

  I shrugged. “So we got lucky.”

  “It wasn’t luck,” said Dina. “Servatron operates with ruthless logic. The only possible explanation is that it’s altered the plan.”

  “Why would it do that?” asked Lara.

  “Because it’s calculated a better outcome,” said Dina. “Better for the machines – worse for us.”

  At her words I felt a sudden chill, as if one of Servatron’s desk fans were blowing cold air on my neck. “What could be worse than the future defeat and enslavement of all humankind?”

  “I don’t know yet,” said Dina, “but it has something to do with your deputy manager.”

  “Talbot?!” I’d assumed that he had fled following his defeat by the AI.

  “I saw Servatron leave the comic shop carrying him in its arms,” she said. “He was unconscious.”

  Cars whizzed past us on the road while Rocketship.com delivery drones did the same at roof level. They were becoming a regular sight in town. It would’ve been possible for Servatron to blend in with the aerial traffic and whisk Talbot away, unnoticed by anyone.

  “Downloading,” I muttered.

  “What’s that?” said Dina.

  I told her that in the exchange of fire at the Fortress of Snackitude, I’d heard Servatron say
the word when Talbot zapped it with his electrical superpower. “For a second they were joined by that bolt of electricity.”

  “Like a data connection?”

  “Exactly. Servatron can access electronic devices, right? Well, Talbot is half machine…”

  Dina nodded. “We have to assume that whatever Christopher Talbot has been plotting, Servatron knows all about it now. I’m going to keep searching for them.” And without waiting for us, she hurried off along the street.

  I couldn’t go after her. Dad knew I’d been in the café during the attack – he’d have a fit if he didn’t find me there. I needed to get back urgently. Lara and I returned to the shop, having made the decision to gather the others and plan our next move.

  I was right about Dad. He was relieved to see us, but also insisted we help clean up the mess. In all the commotion he hadn’t seen Servatron clearly and seemed to think the source of the trouble was a rogue Rocketship.com drone. He had already fired off a stiff message of complaint to Customer Services.

  On the other hand, Cara had witnessed everything. She was furious and full of awkward questions. She waited until Dad had gone back upstairs before launching into a tirade. Still wearing her super-waitress costume, mask resting on her forehead, she slopped a damp mop across the floor of the café.

  “This is the second time in twenty-four hours I’ve been attacked by a domestic appliance. I demand that someone tell me what’s going on. Right now.” Her gaze fell on me. “Luke, how did that robot-thing know my name?”

  “It did?” I played dumb, pretending to concentrate on stacking fallen chairs. Zack had made it clear he didn’t want Cara to know her role in averting the Rise of the Machines.

 

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