A Beginner's Guide to Ruling the Galaxy, page 3
Seeing its escape route blocked, the cat dug its claws into the play-park surface and changed direction with the speed and agility of a toddler spotting an ice-cream van. It was running towards a familiar figure, standing there with all the dynamism of a traffic bollard.
“Gavin, grab it!” she yelled, but he just folded his arms. Why couldn’t he follow a simple directive like any other obedient vassal? She watched as the cat shot across the park like a furry torpedo, not seeming to notice that Gavin lay directly in its path. It smacked into him and instinctively his hands clasped its wiry, wriggling body.
And then, suddenly, it stopped, becoming soft and still. With a sinuous stretch of its neck, it gazed up at him, opened its mouth. And spoke.
“You will pay for this, Earth boy.”
Gavin’s mouth opened and closed in speechless astonishment and he dropped the cat. It sped across the park, making for a small wooded area.
“Great,” Niki groaned, tearing past him. “Couldn’t even detain an unarmed cat.” She flew after it into the trees. Pushing her way through a tangle of branches and brambles in an attempt to pick up its trail, she heard the snap of a twig from behind her and whirled round. It was only Gavin, breathing heavily, shock etched on his pale face.
“This is going to sound mad, but the cat,” he hesitated, “it … uh … talked.”
You’d think he’d never met a talking quadruped before. Then she remembered that these earthlings hadn’t made it beyond their own moon and still believed they were the only sentient beings in the universe. Planet Dirt by name; mud-heads by nature. “I’ve no time for your edge-of-the-galaxy provincialism,” she snapped. “Tell me exactly what it said.”
Gavin blinked. “That I would pay for this, and then it called me Earth boy.”
“I knew it.”
“Knew what? Niki, what’s going on? Why are you chasing a talking cat?”
She threw up a hand and they came to a stop at the edge of a small clearing in the wood. There was no sign of the cat, but in front of them was a metallic object a little bigger than the playground roundabout. Sitting on three spindly metallic legs, with a domed section in the centre, it was distinctly saucer-shaped.
Gavin raised a trembling finger. “What is that?”
“What does it look like?” Earthlings were backward, but had he really never seen a flying saucer? “It’s the creature’s ship.”
“Cats don’t have spaceships,” he said in a small voice, his eyes wide and staring. “They have litter trays and fluffy mice on strings.”
There was a hum of power, and daylight appeared between the base of the vessel and the ground. With a swirl of leaves, it began to rise into the afternoon sky, its landing struts retracting into its body. The craft reached the level of the tallest tree, whereupon the glinting hull shrugged off its metallic appearance and became as translucent as a jellyfish.
“What happened?” said a startled Gavin. “Where’d it go?”
Couldn’t he see that the craft had activated stealth mode? Standard procedure to avoid detection. Just then there came a faint buzzing sound from the edge of the wood and she spotted a small, fast-moving object skimming over the treetops. A drone.
“Down!” Niki dropped to the floor of the wood, pulling Gavin with her. There was a searing flash and an explosion from overhead. A shock wave rippled through the trees, shaking leaves from the branches, and a few seconds later sizzling fragments of flying saucer mixed with drone sprinkled down about them like fiery blossom. When she judged that the fallout had finished, Niki stood up and brushed a burning piece of shrapnel off her collar as if it was a fuzzy piece of lint. Gavin remained prone on the ground, whimpering.
“OK then,” she said breezily. “See you at school tomorrow.” With that, she struck off out of the clearing, heading back towards the path.
Gavin uncurled himself from his foetal position and called after her. “Wait!”
“What is it now?”
“Are you kidding?” He gestured expansively to the chunks of disintegrated flying saucer. “Hello?”
“Goodbye.”
To her annoyance, he followed her out, clipping at her heels and firing questions at her as they crossed the park. She could see his primitive mind desperately trying to make sense of the encounter.
“You are being highly intrusive,” she complained as they turned into Park Street.
“Says the girl who hasn’t left me alone all term long!”
She considered her options. Her martial arts training had taught her how to incapacitate any individual up to three metres in height with fewer than eight limbs. But would it stop him from spewing awkward questions about what he’d seen? Deciding that, sadly, violence was not the answer, she carried on towards home. Gavin had barely paused for breath by the time they reached her house and Bart opened the front door. He’d already changed out of his school uniform and into his athletic gear, in preparation for the 10k run he took every day at this time. He bounced on his feet, like a rabbit in trainers.
“Hiya, Gavin!” he beamed. “Great to see you, neighbour!”
He said it as if they’d been reunited after years of wandering lost in the Amazon, and not since fifth-period physics.
“Hi, Bart,” Gavin muttered in reply.
Niki pushed past him into the hallway. She viewed Bart with the same importance in her life as the toaster. No, that was unfair; she very much enjoyed a warmed crumpet. Bart just grinned and gave a happy wave. With Gavin’s stream of inconvenient questions not abating even for a second, they passed through the house, out of the kitchen door and into the back garden. Like all the houses in the street, Niki’s had a small garden, fenced on three sides. The square of grass contained Bart’s trampoline (“great aerobic workout, neighbour!”) and a neat, colourful flower border that Mercedes tended with a passion. It was also the site of Sam’s home office, which sat against the back fence, a glass and wood construction the size of a large garden shed.
Niki beckoned Gavin in and closed the door behind them. Inside the compact room was a desk neatly arranged with pens and stationery; a keyboard, trackpad and blank computer screen; and in front of the window a scrappy pot plant. The ergonomically designed chair, where Sam would normally sit, was empty. There was a small bookcase against one wall, which at a glance appeared to be filled exclusively with books about the card game of contract bridge. The only other item that gave a clue to his character was an electric guitar propped on a stand next to a boxy amplifier. The guitar was red, with a silver flash like a lightning bolt. In Niki’s opinion he wasn’t a very good musician, but with his great golden mane of hair he resembled images of old-fashioned Earth rock stars she’d seen in her background research material.
“OK, the door is locked and no one can overhear,” said Gavin. “Now, will you tell me what just happened?”
“All will be revealed,” she said cryptically. She was lying, of course. In truth, nothing would be revealed, not to this earthling. However, it was important that he follow her, and she judged that the prospect of learning the truth would ensure that happened. If all went to plan, in a matter of minutes he wouldn’t remember anything. She crossed silently to the window and slid aside the pot plant, revealing a handle embedded flush in the floor beneath. Prising it out she rotated it clockwise through ninety degrees. There was a whir as a square section of the floor retracted, exposing a flight of steps down. “Follow me,” she said.
Music pounded up through the hatch. Someone with a gravelly voice was singing about “Livin’ on a Prayer”. They descended a short flight of steps to a room twice the size of the office above. Screens lining the walls showed maps of Middling at different scales. There was a moving weather map and a live satellite image of Earth from space. A green radar display like something out of a submarine was making a soft beeping sound with every sweep of its electronic dial. On a workbench were more drones like the one that had slammed into the flying saucer, in various states of assembly.
Niki saw that Gavin was too flabbergasted to speak. Well, that was a relief. She turned to Sam at the far end of the room, sitting with his back to them, his shaggy hair spilling over the seat’s headrest. He was studying a screen showing a video replay of the moment the saucer exploded, viewed from a camera attached to the drone.
“Odd. The ship shouldn’t have disintegrated,” he mumbled. “The drone was only meant to disable it.”
“Forget that,” said Niki, crossing to the workbench. “We have another problem.”
She reached for a shelf above the half-built drones. Propped on it was the incongruous form of an electric toothbrush. A label stuck beneath it read: Danger! Not to be used to brush teeth.
The castors of Sam’s chair squeaked as he turned to face her and, as he did, his gaze fell on Gavin. He leapt up in surprise and with a toss of his luxuriant hair let loose a furious roar that shook the room.
Gavin gave a squeal of terror. Niki studied him with the curiosity of a scientist conducting a clinical trial. In the previous hour he had been threatened by a cat and rained on by an exploding flying saucer. And now he was witnessing this … transformation. She could see his meagre brain working at maximum power, and out of what she had no doubt was a whirling chaos of conflicting thoughts the last words that dribbled from his mouth before he slumped unconscious to the floor were:
“Your dad is … a lion?”
Chapter 6
Gavin woke up dazed and confused in the living room of the Apples’ house, lying flat out on the sofa, surrounded by the curious faces of Niki and her family. On the mantelpiece a clock ticked reassuringly. The smell of dinner cooking drifted in from the kitchen. Everything seemed normal. Most importantly, her dad was no longer a lion, and for a moment he wondered if he’d imagined the whole thing. But then the events of the day flooded back to him and he sat bolt upright.
Before he could speak, Niki shoved an electric toothbrush in his face. There was a buzz and a whiff of spearmint as she pressed the button on the handle. The head started spinning and he winced at the appearance of a dazzling green light.
“What do you remember?” she demanded.
The light faded as quickly as it appeared, but it had left a brush-shaped shadow on his vision. He blinked. “You mean, apart from the talking cat and the flying saucer?” His eye fell on Sam. “And your dad being the Lion King?”
Niki let out a cry of frustration, Bart buried his head in his hands and Sam snarled. Gavin felt as if he’d failed some test he didn’t understand.
“Try it again,” suggested Mercedes.
“It was already on maximum,” Niki sighed. “It’s not working on his brain.”
“Brain?” said Gavin uneasily. “What kind of toothbrush is that?”
“Oh, just the regular Earth kind,” said Mercedes with a kind smile.
“But the handle contains a powerful Obliterator engine and the head focuses the Erasure beam,” Niki added.
Sam uttered a warning growl. “Princess, no…”
She ignored him and rattled on. “It wipes memories – or at least, it was meant to. Mercedes designed it to protect our true identities in case they were revealed to earthlings.” She regarded the device with uncertainty. “Maybe there’s a loose connection.” She turned to Bart. “What’s the capital of South Korea?”
“Uh … Seoul?”
With a bored sweep of her hand, she aimed the toothbrush at him. The spearmint beam bloomed and faded as before.
“What’s the capital of South Korea?” She repeated.
He looked at her blankly. “Half past three.”
She turned to Mercedes. “No, it’s working fine.”
Gavin stood up sharply from the sofa. “You brought me back here so you could erase my memory!”
“Not all of it,” Niki said with a carefree shrug. “Just this afternoon.” She pursed her lips and blew out. “And anyway it didn’t work.”
“Right, that’s it,” said Sam. “We do this the old-fashioned way. He’s seen too much, which means he’s a threat. You know what we used to do with people like that, right?”
“We’re not doing that,” Mercedes said with a hint of exasperation.
“Absolutely not,” agreed Niki.
Gavin breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t know exactly what Sam was referring to, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t proposing a bottomless ice-cream sundae.
“I mean yes, of course, he’s utterly insignificant,” she went on. “But someone’s bound to miss him.” Then as an afterthought, she added, “Also, where would you get a High-Frequency Pain Disintegrator Cannon round here anyway?”
Gavin began to edge towards the door.
“Our security has been compromised,” said Sam. “We have to do something about the boy.” He stuck out a beefy arm, blocking Gavin’s escape route, before gripping his collar and steering him back into the centre of the group. “Sorry. Nothing personal.”
Gavin sent a cowed look round the faces of the Apples. What was happening here?
“I suspect the human brain is not complex enough for the sensors to register it as a threat,” said Mercedes, examining the toothbrush. “I shall endeavour to improve the device’s effectiveness.”
“Very well, but what action do we take in the meantime?” said Sam.
“We could keep him here,” said Bart, beaming at Gavin. “He could move into my room with me.”
“Out of the question,” said Sam.
“Well, he’s not sharing mine,” grumped Niki.
“He’s not staying here at all!” Sam snapped. “I’m not sharing the bathroom with one more person.”
“Then I can go?” said Gavin, sidling towards the door again.
“Not so fast.” Sam’s great arm grabbed him again, pressing him down on the sofa. “Since we have ruled out either elimination or abduction, you present an intractable problem.”
“There is one remaining option,” said Niki.
“Boiling in oil?” suggested Sam.
“Great suggestion, but no,” said Niki. “I fear we have no other choice but to confide our secret in Gavin and trust him to keep it.”
All four Apples turned their heads to stare at him.
“As the one in charge of your security, Highness,” said Sam, “I must object to the sharing of any more classified information. No offence, Gavin.”
“Uh … none taken?”
Niki folded her arms. “But does he really pose much of a threat? I mean, what does it matter if we tell him? Who’s going to believe Gavin?”
He felt the stinging barb of her insult, but no more than usual.
“Also, it will amuse me to observe his puny brain attempting to process the truth. After the day I’ve had, I could do with a laugh.”
Sam relented with a low, grudging growl, before stomping over to an armchair and sinking into it to brood.
Mercedes chimed in with her assessment. “I calculate that there is a five per cent chance that Gavin’s primitive brain will experience a catastrophic reaction to learning the reality of the situation.”
Niki’s eyes lit up. “You mean his head might explode?!”
Gavin looked desperately from one Apple to the other. Was this some kind of joke?
“Excellent,” said Niki. “But I’m not cleaning up bits of brain off the carpet.”
“Like you ever do any cleaning, Your Highness,” Mercedes said tightly.
Gavin had heard enough. “Will one of you please tell me what’s going on? Why did your mum call you Your Highness? Why was your dad a lion?” He stuck out an accusing finger. “And why did that cat talk?”
“The creature,” said Niki. “It’s not from here.”
“Middling?”
She paused. “Earth.”
Oh, come on! What utter nonsense. But Gavin’s retort caught in his throat.
“And Sam is not a lion. Or a freelance technical copywriter. He’s not even my real dad. He is a Leontine warrior, former commander of the Galactic League Honour Guard. And my guardian. In the course of everyday life on Earth, he uses a short-range concealment-field projector to hide his true form.”
Head injury, was Gavin’s first thought. He’d banged his head and was concussed, and all this was merely the ravings of his swollen brain. Or perhaps Niki had banged her head.
“Also, my name isn’t Niki Apple.”
“What is it then?” he asked.
“My full title is Dread Princess Xyllara, Spawn of D’Rek the Destroyer, Firelord of Trilia Zed Zed 6, Inheritor of the Haunted Stars, First Hatchling of Pamnatakrocula the Pitiless, Sovereign of Shadows, heir apparent to the throne of the Dark Galaxy.”
She had lost it, big time. It couldn’t be true. And yet. The cat, the flying saucer, the general oddness. His head was throbbing, and Mercedes seemed to sense his discomfort as she tucked a cushion behind his neck.
“You’re saying that you’re…” He looked around at their faces. “Aliens?”
“We prefer the term extraterrestrial,” Mercedes said, plumping up the cushion. “Though technically I am what you would term an android.”
Space-lions, galactic princesses, and her mum, who was not actually her mum, was a robot. Course she was.
“My function within the group is to manage the princess’s health and well-being, conducting medical intervention when necessary. Everything from the sniffles to major surgery.” She held up an arm and her hand hinged at the wrist, revealing a cluster of built-in surgical instruments, ranging from scalpels to scissors. “Since Niki’s anatomy and biology differ from a human being’s, we cannot allow an Earth doctor to treat her or they would discover that she is not of this planet.”
“My skin excretes a sweat-like compound that makes it safe from harmful UV light,” Niki explained. “Which means I can sunbathe safely for hours. Also, I can utilise a natural pheromone that lets me influence weak-minded individuals and bend them to my will.” She paused. “Oh yeah, and I have two hearts.”
She might as well have said she had two heads. Gavin felt dizzy again.
“You OK, neighbour?” Bart’s cheery face appeared in front of him like a shining sun. “Take some deep, cleansing breaths and you’ll be fine.” He began to demonstrate, inhaling and exhaling loudly.
