Johnny Mackintosh and the Spirit of London (38 page)

Finally, half-winded, he was helped to his feet and lined up for the restart. Five minutes of intense pressure from Colchester Grammar followed, before three short blasts on the referee's whistle signaled the end of the game. Castle Dudbury had won 3–2. They'd won the County Cup and Johnny had scored the winning goal.

After the presentation of the trophy and collecting his medal—and being told by Mr. Davenport that it was a brilliant goal but that Johnny had come this close (he made a gesture with his thumb and forefinger) to being substituted a minute earlier—friends and family of all the players were allowed onto the pitch. Johnny joined Clara, Alf, Bentley and Rusty a little away from the rest of the team. Clara's eyes were bloodshot and her face pale.

“What happened?” Johnny asked.

“It was horrid,” she replied. “I don't want to think about it.”

“You had to do it, Miss Clara,” said Alf. “There was no other choice.”

“Do what?” Johnny asked.

“I believe Miss Clara created a Klein fold,” Alf explained. “It is self-contained—it leads nowhere. The dogs and I were able to push the krun inside, before the fold was sealed.” Bentley growled.

“There's no way out—ever,” said Clara. “They're just falling in nothing—in their own pocket of hyperspace. I wouldn't even be able to get out.”

“Like trying to punch your way out of a paper bag is, I believe, the expression,” said Alf.

“C'mon Johnny,” Dave shouted toward him. “It's the lap of honor.”

Johnny looked at Clara. “You OK?” he asked.

She nodded. “I'm fine—you go.”

Johnny went over to his team mates and together they ran round the Layer Road pitch, holding the Essex Football Association Under Thirteens Cup aloft.

After the game Johnny had no choice but to travel to Castle Dudbury with Bentley on the team minibus, while Alf, Clara
and Rusty took the Piccadilly double-decker shuttle craft to London. The journey back was fun. Mr. Davenport stopped the minibus outside a fish and chip shop around the corner from Layer Road and two people emerged from inside, each carrying an enormous box. One contained sixteen helpings of fish and chips, individually wrapped in newspaper, while the other had a selection of fizzy drinks, as well as bottles of tomato ketchup, brown sauce and vinegar. It was a celebration feast. After the whole team and their canine mascot had stuffed their faces they sang football songs all the way home, Bentley joining in with tuneless barks.

Word of the victory had gone ahead of them, so there was quite a reception committee waiting back at Halader House. Before Johnny was even through the main doors he was lifted up onto some shoulders and led through the building into the common room, where the celebrations continued. Three times Mr. Wilkins stormed in shouting at everyone—and Johnny in particular—to keep the noise down. On the third visit his beetle-like eyes narrowed at the sight of Bentley emerging from behind a battered sofa. Everyone else was too busy celebrating to notice as Mr. Wilkins nodded at the dog and then turned toward Johnny, miming eating with a knife and fork before licking his lips. Johnny knew it was time to slip away. He picked up the bag with his kit and ushered Bentley out of the door without anyone noticing. Then, as quietly as he could, he led the Old English sheepdog toward the computer room.

The pair entered and Johnny sat down in front of the master terminal while a worn-out Bentley curled up at his feet.

“You took your time,” said Kovac.

“What? What do you mean?” Johnny replied a little uncertainly.

“It's not as though you gave me a very taxing assignment, is it?” said Kovac. “What's the point of being the world's only quantum computer if I've nothing to compute? I had to solve
the Riemann Hypothesis just to keep myself occupied.”

“The Riemann what?” Johnny asked. “No—don't answer that. Did you find them? Did you find my dad? Louise? Where are they?”

“No I didn't find them,” Kovac replied.

“Oh,” said Johnny. “Well can't you keep looking?”

“I didn't find them because they are not here to be found.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean they aren't anywhere.”

“Oh,” said Johnny again, rather confused.

Kovac continued before Johnny could ask anything else, saying, “And another thing—some people wish to communicate with you.”

“Who?” Johnny asked.

“Their names are Clara, Alf, Chancellor Gronack and a very supercilious computer named Sol.”

“Put them through,” said Johnny, wondering what “supercilious” might mean.

“So this is it?” Kovac replied. “Destined to become a glorified videophone …”

“Now … please,” said Johnny firmly, and Kovac's monitor changed to a view of the bridge on the Spirit of London. Everybody was standing around the empty captain's chair.

“Master Johnny,” said Alf, excited. “I do hope you can join us later.”

“Love to,” Johnny replied.

“Then I shall come and fetch you in the Jubilee,” said Alf.

“It's OK,” Clara cut in. “I can do it. It only takes a second.”

“You have done more than enough folding these past few days,” said Alf. “You need to rest.”

Clara crossed her arms and scowled.

“It's best,” said Johnny. “I'll need a minute to get ready anyway. See you in a second, Alf.” Johnny leaned down from the
chair, rubbed Bentley under his collar to wake him up and whispered, “It's good to have you back, Bents,” in the dog's ear. The Old English sheepdog got to his feet and slopped his huge tongue across Johnny's face. Together they turned toward the door.

“And just what am I supposed to do now?” Kovac asked.

“I don't know,” said Johnny. “Whatever you want. Solve another hypothesis thingy.” He left the computer room wondering if fitting the quantum processor had been such a good idea and carried his kit up the two flights of stairs to his bedroom, Bentley scampering behind. Safely inside, he threw the carrier bag containing his dirty kit and boots onto the floor. In the time it took him to create a suitable impression of a sleeping Johnny in his bed, by placing various items of clothing under the duvet, a flying London taxi had appeared outside his bedroom window. As quietly as he could, Johnny undid the latch and followed Bentley out of the window onto the roof and into the waiting cab. Less than a minute later they were in front of what looked for all the world like the London Gherkin, and making the short walk from the taxi rank into the Spirit of London.

“Alf,” Johnny began. “Where did you find the Jubilee?”

“Right here of course,” said Alf. “Where we left it. Why?”

“It's nothing,” said Johnny. “I guess I just went to the wrong cab before.”

Soon Johnny and Bentley entered the strategy room where the others had gathered, Johnny having first changed into his Melanian clothes, which made him feel more “serious.” Rusty, wagging her tail, came across to greet Bentley. Clara yawned a sleepy hello. Johnny sat down beside the Chancellor and felt something digging into him. It was the brass gnomon from the Proteus Institute sundial. He took it out of his pocket and placed it on the near invisible force field table in front of him.

“If I may,” squeaked Chancellor Gronack, “there are important matters to attend to. Our first priority must be to contact the Empire.”

“Do I need to remind you, Chancellor, that temporal imperatives mean we must maintain a communication blackout for the next twenty-two days,” said Alf.

“For the Regent's sake,” Gronack replied. “I will not spend another day on this ship. If we wait that long it could be months before I am rescued. Just how will Melania function without me? Answer me that!”

Johnny suspected everyone around the table joined him in thinking Melania was probably much better off in the Chancellor's absence, but it was Sol who came to the rescue. “The argument is academic,” she said. “My sensors show there are no friendly vessels through which to relay messages within a twenty-two light day radius.”

“None?” squeaked Gronack despondently

“Further,” said Sol. “Despite my impressive specification, not even I carry a supply of cornicula worms. For the time being we are cut off from the Empire.”

“What would happen if we did have some cornicula worms?” asked Johnny as casually as he could. He knew Alf would be apoplectic if he tried to contact Bram, but hadn't the Emperor told him to release the worm as soon as he was safe? It was practically an imperial order. He started rolling the brass spike backward and forward on the table in front of him. It was interfering with the force field, creating a lovely pattern of blue sparks following the lines of magnetic force through the gnomon.

“I sometimes wonder if you paid attention to anything I taught you,” Alf replied. “Why, we would find a secure Earth-based location and release the worm to return to Melania.”

“Why, not here on the ship?” Johnny asked.

Sol cut in. “Although I am content to be located here for the
time being, Johnny, I am a spaceship. I live to travel between the stars. The instant I moved, any tunnel created by the cornicula would be broken forever. It would be an unimaginable waste.”

It looked as though Gronack was about to interject, but Alf got there first, saying, “To the matter in hand—the search for Johnny and Clara's father, and their friend.”

“Your Kovac computer proved … unhelpful when I offered to discuss it, Johnny,” said Sol. “The search must be complete by now—what was the result?”

“Kovac said they weren't anywhere,” Johnny replied.

“Meaning what, exactly?” asked the Chancellor.

“I don't know,” said Johnny, wishing he'd interrogated Kovac in a little more depth. He felt a bit stupid.

“Perhaps they're dead,” said Gronack. “I expect that would explain it. And will you stop doing that—it's most distracting.”

“Sorry,” said Johnny, putting his hand on the gnomon to stop it moving.

“I am quite sure they are far too valuable to the krun to have been killed,” said Alf.

“Then where on earth are they?” Clara asked, stifling another yawn.

Johnny was staring down at the brass spike on the table which had come to rest with the little indentation of the trident facing upward. “I know where they are,” he said, surprising himself nearly as much as everyone else. The rest of the table fell completely silent, with just the hum from the force field in the background. “They're not on Earth—they're on Neptune.”

“Neptune?” asked Alf and Chancellor Gronack together.

“Neptune is the eighth planet in this star system,” said Sol, helpfully.

“But why would they be there, Master Johnny?” asked Alf.

“You see this,” said Johnny, pointing to the broken piece of the sundial. “I took this from the Proteus Institute. This mark
here is the symbol for Neptune.”

“And that's it?” said Gronack. “I see now it's obvious.”

Bentley growled, baring his teeth.

“It's OK, Bents,” said Johnny. “But it is obvious. Kovac said they weren't anywhere because he was only looking here—on Earth. If they're not here then where? Proteus is one of the moons of Neptune—the Proteus Institute. And didn't you say there was another school called Triton?” he asked Clara, who nodded back. “That's another moon of Neptune. Sol—has there been any communication between the krun ships in orbit and Neptune?”

“The largest krun vessel folded out of this system earlier today,” Sol replied. “One of the smaller vessels broke orbit shortly afterward, on a trajectory consistent with a destination of the eighth planet.”

“See,” said Johnny.

“It sounds plausible, I suppose,” said Alf.

“Johnny's right,” said Clara. “I can feel it.”

“Thanks,” said Johnny. “Sol—tomorrow we're going to Neptune. Can you be ready?”