Adam and the Arkonauts (3 page)

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CHAPTER 2

‘There's no time to waste,' Doctor Forest urged his son. ‘Whistle for Sniffage and then we can leave.'

There was a mewl of disapproval from behind them.

‘That dog makes soooo much noise,' moaned Malibu.

Moments later, an orange and white patched head with large floppy ears stuck out of the hatch to the hold. The spaniel never did anything slowly. He bounded down to the front of the ship, barking.

‘Yeah! Yeah!' Sniffage yapped. ‘Where are we going? We going for a walk? Let's go for a walk!'

‘We are going for a walk, Sniffage,' the Doctor assured him.

‘Let's go somewhere smelly. Can we? Yeah! Yeah!' Sniffage shook his floppy ears from side to side with enthusiasm.

‘Eww,' said Malibu. ‘Dogs are so gross.'

Sniffage ignored Malibu. He had spotted a stick. He grabbed it between his teeth, padded over to Adam and dropped it at his feet.

‘Throw it for me, yeah! You won't lose it. I'll bring it back! Yeah! Yeah!'

Adam picked the stick up and threw it to the other end of the ship. Sniffage charged after it, scooped it up in his mouth and charged back, his tail wagging with pleasure. He dropped the stick at Adam's feet.

‘Do it again! Yeah! Throw it further! I'll get it again!'

Adam picked up the stick.

‘I don't know who's stupider,' mewled Malibu. ‘You for throwing it or him for getting it.'

‘There's no time for this,' said the Doctor, leading the way down the gangplank.

‘I'll keep an eye on things here while you're gone,' said Malibu, and promptly fell asleep.

Standing on the quay, it was obvious to the Doctor and to Adam, though perhaps not to Sniffage, that finding anything in this maze of higgledy-piggledy streets lined with tall white houses was not going to be easy. And what is more, there didn't seem to be anybody about to ask. All the people that they had seen on the wharf as they sailed into the harbour had vanished.

‘Strange,' remarked the Doctor.

They crossed a wide road and entered the labyrinth of Buenos Sueños.

‘Smelly!' Sniffage barked approvingly.

‘Sometimes,' remarked the Doctor, ‘I almost regret learning to understand what they're saying.'

‘A signpost!' said Adam, pointing to a crossroads at the end of the narrow street.

‘A very detailed one,' added the Doctor, noticing that the signpost was bristling with directions. ‘Surely one of the signs will point to the town hall.'

They hurried over to it. The town hall was signposted to the left.

‘Come on,' said the Doctor.

But Adam tugged at his father's sleeve and pointed again. He had noticed that the town hall was also signposted to the right.

‘And look,' he said.

The town hall was also signposted on the road that went straight on and even on the road that they'd just walked up. In fact, walking in any direction, according to the signpost, would lead them to the town hall.

‘Strange,' repeated the Doctor. ‘And not particularly helpful.'

‘Over there,' said Adam. A little further down the street was a small kiosk. A sign above it said ‘Tourist Information'.

Sitting by the door, with his feet stretched out and a faded brochure perched on his face, was a sleeping man. He was wearing a vest which featured an interesting mixture of sweat patches and holes. A badge attached to the vest informed Adam and the Doctor that his name was Señor Gozo and he was here to help.

The Doctor coughed.

Señor Gozo opened his eyes. They were red-rimmed and hostile.

‘What?' he growled.

‘We'd like some information, please.'

‘Why?'

The Doctor was taken aback.

‘Because we're in a strange city and a little confused about the directions.'

‘What do you want to go visiting new cities for, eh? You should stay in cities that you know. That way you don't get lost.'

‘But you're the local tourist information officer,' said Adam. ‘Aren't you supposed to help us?'

‘No,' said Señor Gozo.

‘What are you supposed to do, then?'

Señor Gozo growled, ‘I am here to give information
about
tourists, like they wear shorts even when it is cold and are taking photos of everything in a place, even the really boring things. And are always getting their wallets stolen. We have so few visitors to Buenos Sueños, people need advice on how to deal with them.'

The Doctor and Adam exchanged puzzled glances. Buenos Sueños was obviously a city unlike any other.

‘Errr . . . we're looking for the town hall,' persisted the Doctor.

‘There's a signpost over there.'

‘We know,' Adam said, ‘but it says that the town hall is in four different directions. We were wondering if you could tell us which is the best.'

‘Depends,' said Señor Gozo, ‘on whether you want the direct route, the scenic route, the route avoiding low bridges or the route including low bridges.'

‘The route including low bridges?' said Adam. ‘Why do you have that signposted?'

Señor Gozo scratched his hairy stomach.

‘The Buenos Sueños Society for the Appreciation of Low Bridges is a thriving local organisation. They crouch every Tuesday underneath the Puente Pequeñita near the swimming baths.'

‘We'd like the direct route, please.'

‘Well, good luck,' said Señor Gozo. ‘You've got a one in four chance of being right.'

Sniffage, having become bored during this conversation, had gone off to investigate. Now he reappeared.

‘Your dog appears to have a dead thing in his mouth,' observed Señor Gozo.

Sniffage dropped the unidentified dead thing at Adam's feet and began to bark enthusiastically.

Señor Gozo closed his eyes and leant back. It seemed that he had given them as much help as he was prepared to.

‘Thank you,' said the Doctor. ‘I suppose if we get lost we can always ask a policeman.'

‘Ask a policeman?' said Señor Gozo, opening one eye, and his face broke into a broad smile. He disappeared into the dark recess of his kiosk, laughing uproariously.

The Doctor and Adam looked at each other in confusion. Above them the sun burnt down, reflecting off the white houses, steadily raising the early-afternoon temperature.

‘Yeah! Yeah!' barked Sniffage, bounding around their legs. ‘Is anybody thirsty? Bet you are. I am. Yeah! Found this puddle. Couple of dead things floating in it. Come and have a drink! Yeah!'

‘No, thanks.' Adam shook his head.

‘Sniffage,' cautioned the Doctor, ‘how many times have I told you not to drink from pools with dead things in? They could make you seriously ill.'

‘Dead things?' Sniffage cocked his head to one side as though he was hearing this for the first time. ‘Dead things aren't good for you?'

‘Not in drinking water,' insisted the Doctor.

‘Yeah! But all the rest of the time. Yeah!'

‘Pick a direction. Any direction,' he said, turning to Adam.

‘That one,' said Adam, pointing straight on.

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CHAPTER 3

At every crossroads there were directions, always pointing in four different ways. The sun beat down mercilessly and the streets of Buenos Sueños shimmered in the intense heat. Sniffage's tongue lolled out of his mouth and his breathing was heavy.

‘Look,' said Adam suddenly.

Standing at the next crossroads, dressed in a smart, perfectly pressed white uniform, with a whistle in his mouth and pistol in his holster, was a policeman.

‘We will ask him.' The Doctor strode directly up to him. ‘Good day, my good man. I am looking for –'

PHEEEEEEP! PHEEEEEP!
The policeman blew loudly on his whistle.

‘Thank you,' said the Doctor drily. ‘My ears were in need of a cleansing blast of high-pitched sound. Now, I was wondering if –'

‘Do not distract me. I am directing traffic,' the policeman snapped.

The Doctor and Adam looked left and right. There wasn't a vehicle in sight.

‘As there doesn't appear to be any traffic perhaps –'

‘You give me no option,' said the policeman. ‘It is a crime in Buenos Sueños to distract an officer in the course of his duty. I am imposing an on-the-spot fine. Diego, come here.'

A small man with a ponytail, who had been hidden in a shady corner, rushed over. He was carrying a can of paint and a brush.

‘Paint a spot, Diego,' the policeman instructed.

‘Immediately, Officer Grivas,' said Diego.

He dipped his brush into the pot of red paint and, with a practised hand, painted two perfectly circular red spots on the ground.

‘Stand on the spots,' Officer Grivas ordered Adam and the Doctor. ‘You have been found guilty of endangering the life of the innocent citizens of Buenos Sueños by attempting to sabotage the smooth running of the Buenos Sueños transport system in contravention of Section 81 of the Buenos Sueños Crime and Punishment Code. You are officially classed as dangerous terrorists. Fine: two pesos,' he announced.

‘This is an outrage,' said the Doctor.

Officer Grivas shrugged.

His face reddening, Doctor Forest reluctantly handed over two pesos.

‘You may go on your way,' said Officer Grivas, waving them off. ‘But no more of this terrorism, you understand.'

A moment later:
PHEEEEP! PHEEEEEP!

They turned round.

‘Back on the spot, please.'

‘I don't understand, Officer,' said the Doctor testily. ‘You said we could go.'

‘I didn't say you could vandalise the streets of Buenos Sueños. That is a crime under Law 22.'

‘Vandalise the streets?'

Officer Grivas indicated the ground with his pistol. Coming from the newly painted spots they had just been standing on were two sets of red footprints.

‘But this is madness,' protested the Doctor. ‘If we get back on the spot now, we'll get our shoes covered with wet paint again, and as soon as we get off we'll commit the crime once more.'

‘You are stuck in a cycle of crime,' observed Diego, contemplating his paint brush philosophically. ‘You offend. You are punished. You offend again. You are punished again. And so it goes on. Tragic in its inevitability.'

‘Wait a minute,' said Adam. He bent down and removed one shoe, stepping out of his spot with his bare foot as he did so. He then removed the other and placed his two bare feet outside the spot. His feet appeared to be crime free.

‘Ingenious, Adam,' his father complimented him, removing his shoes in exactly the same way and stepping from his spot.

Barefoot, and carrying their shoes in their hands, they set off to look for the town hall, noticing a large number of red spots painted on the ground in every street they turned into. Buenos Sueños, it seemed, had a very serious crime problem.

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CHAPTER 4

As they walked rapidly through the streets, their feet burning on the sizzling cobbles, Adam asked the question which had been niggling at him since the moment they had moored in Buenos Sueños harbour. ‘How did Mum end up in such a weird place? There are so many cities in the world – why here? And why is everyone so obsessed with rules and laws?'

‘I'm afraid I can't enlighten you,' Doctor Forest admitted. ‘Since the first travellers stumbled upon it, Buenos Sueños has developed a reputation for eccentricity, fostered by its remoteness. Perhaps it's that no one wants to be the odd one out in such a close-knit community. I've often observed this kind of behaviour in other animal groups.'

Before they could discuss things further, they reached a little square with a fountain where they could surreptitiously bathe their burning feet and wash the red paint from the soles of their shoes. A little alley led to a much grander square beyond. And there, on one side of the church, was the ‘Ayuntamiento' – the town hall.

After a brief wait in the cool, whitewashed foyer, the Mayor's secretary, Señorita Ratti, announced that he was ready to see them.

‘Doctor Forest,' said the Mayor warmly, standing up as they walked in. ‘Welcome to Buenos Sueños.'

‘Thank you, Mayor Puig,' said the Doctor. ‘Please allow me to introduce Adam, and this is . . .
Sniffag
e
!' he said in a severe tone. ‘Get out of there at once!'

Sniffage pulled his head out of the Mayor's bin – his jaws gripped tightly around a mouldy sandwich. He padded over and dropped it at the Doctor's feet.

‘Blue spotty mould – that's my favourite,' woofed Sniffage enthusiastically, pointing out what to him seemed to be the strong advantage of the half-eaten sandwich.

‘I thought you preferred yellow mould,' said Adam.

‘What?' said the Mayor.

The Doctor gave Adam a warning look. Together they had taught the Arkonauts to understand some of their own language. But the Doctor was very clear that Adam should never speak an animal language in front of anyone else nor say anything that would hint that he understood one either.

‘It's just he brings so many mouldy yellow things back to the
Ark
,' Adam explained a little desperately.

‘Thank you, Adam,' said the Doctor. ‘I'm sure the Mayor doesn't want to hear about that. Sit down, Sniffage.'

Obediently Sniffage sat.

‘Now, Mr Mayor,' said the Doctor, ‘I am immensely grateful for your telegram and, as I'm sure you understand, after ten years' silence I am very eager to read the message you have received from my wife.'

The Mayor leant forward conspiratorially.

‘First, there is something I need to . . . share with you. I am standing for re-election in a week's time, an election which, until two weeks ago, I was certain to win. I had no opponents because my policies were supported by almost everyone: I hoped to embark on an amazing programme of reform, to change Buenos Sueños for the better, for ever. But then a terrible crisis befell Buenos Sueños, and straight away another candidate entered the mayoral race, promising to solve it. I fear that people's faith in me may be ebbing. Buenos Sueños's one chance to change, to rejoin the world it has been separated from for so long, might be about to slip away. And I thought that, while you're here, you, a man rumoured to be the greatest scientist in the world, might be able to help me tackle this crisis.'

The Doctor had been reading angrily between the lines of the Mayor's speech. He could contain himself no longer.

‘You are saying there is no message? We travelled all this way under false pretences?'

‘No! No! You don't understand,' said the Mayor anxiously, leaning even further forward. ‘Of course I have the message. But I was hoping that you might . . . give something in return. Bad forces are at work. A terrible thing is happening to our citizens.'

‘What do you mean?' said the Doctor. ‘What terrible thing?'

‘Let me tell you . . .' began the Mayor, but then he glanced at his watch. ‘Better than that, let me show you. Come with me.'

He beckoned Adam and the Doctor to follow him. His office led directly on to a balcony which overlooked the main square – all white except for the large number of red spots painted on the ground.

‘Look at the clock on the police headquarters.'

The Doctor and Adam looked at the building directly opposite. Standing on the balcony, smoking a cigar, was a man in the bright white uniform of the police, but even at this distance they could see the gleam of medals on his chest. Above him was a clock showing the time at precisely 3.29.

‘Three . . . two . . .' counted down the Mayor, ‘one.'

The minute hand of the clock clunked to half past the hour and at exactly that moment they heard a sound.

BRRRRIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!

It was the loudest sound they had ever heard.