Open Fire Read online

  First published 2009 in Pan by Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Limited

  1 market Street, Sydney

  Text copyright © Charlie Carter 2009

  Illustration copyright © Russell Jeffery 2009

  The moral rights of the creators have been asserted.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.

  National Library of Australia

  Cataloguing-in-Publication data:

  Carter, Charlie.

  Open Fire / Charlie Carter.

  9780330425018 [pbk.]

  Carter, Charlie. Battle boy.

  For primary school age.

  Drake, Francis, Sir, 1540-1596 - Juvenile fiction.

  Golden Hind [Ship] - Juvenile fiction.

  Spy stories - Juvenile fiction.

  A823.4

  Designed by Russell Jeffery, Emigraph

  Printed in Austraiia by McPherson’s Printing Group

  Papers used by Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Ltd are natural, recyclable products made from wood grown in sustainable forests. The manufacturing processes conform to the environmental regulations of the country of origin.

  These electronic editions published in 2009 by Pan Macmillan Australia Pty Ltd

  1 Market Street, Sydney 2000

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved. This publication (or any part of it) may not be reproduced or transmitted, copied, stored, distributed or otherwise made available by any person or entity (including Google, Amazon or similar organisations), in any form (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical) or by any means (photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise) without prior written permission from the publisher.

  Battle Boy 1: Open Fire

  Charlie Carter

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  978-1-74198-639-6

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  978-1-74198-751-5

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  978-1-74198-695-2

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  978-1-74198-583-2

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  www.macmillandigital.com.au

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  OPEN FIRE

  CHARLIE CARTER

  That’s weird.

  Napoleon stared at the note lying on his desk.

  Do you want great heroes and great battles? Go to the military section: aisle 3a, fourth shelf, sixth book.

  As he read the words again, the writing faded to nothing, and then the paper crumbled into a white dust.

  Napoleon looked around him. The town library was very quiet. It usually was on a Friday afternoon. He was often the only one there.

  He’d just left the desk for a minute to get a book on the Battle of Gettysburg. The note was there when he got back.

  It’s probably Monty and Caesar, he thought. If they aren’t playing their stupid war games, they’re playing jokes on me.

  But then he remembered that his brothers were practising for the parade at the army base tomorrow. They’d been polishing their shoes since dawn under the watchful eye of Napoleon’s father.

  Napoleon thought about what his father might do in this situation. He could hear his father’s words in his head: ‘Tactics, boys! Always think about tactics. What’s your battle plan?’

  OK. Tactic no. 1, thought Napoleon as he got up from the desk. Check out aisle 3a.

  Aisle 3a was hidden behind the natural history section. Napoleon glanced along the fourth shelf. The sixth book was easy to see. It had been tipped on its side so that it stood out from the rest.

  He took the book off the shelf and looked at it:

  Napoleon already knew a little about Drake: he was a great sea captain and a bit of a pirate. But what was so important about this book? And why was someone—?

  Napoleon looked up. He could hear footsteps on the hard tiles. A figure appeared at the far end of the long aisle.

  Napoleon recognised the person at once. It was the new librarian, Miss Perdu.

  She clicked her heels and then marched straight for him.

  She marched everywhere, Miss Perdu. She was like a soldier, with her spiky blonde hair, white coat and leather boots.

  Napoleon gulped. Was he in trouble?

  He stared down at the book, pretending to read. Miss Perdu came right up to him and stopped, hands on her hips.

  ‘Napoleon Augustus Smythe?’ It sounded more like an order than a question.

  ‘Yes . . . er, Miss Perdu.’

  ‘Are you the youngest son of Captain Alexander Augustus Smythe?’

  Napoleon nodded. He must be in big trouble!

  ‘Wonderful.’ She rubbed her hands together and smiled as she looked him up and down. ‘Yes. I think you’ll be perfect. Right age, right size, right attitude.’

  Napoleon frowned. ‘Perfect? Perfect for what?’

  ‘For the operation, of course.’

  ‘Operation? What kind of operation?’

  Miss Perdu lowered her voice. ‘Operation Battle Book.’ She glanced around as if someone might be listening. ‘I can’t go into details here.’

  She leaned closer and whispered. ‘Would you like to meet Sir Francis Drake?’ She tapped the book in Napoleon’s hand. ‘Would you like to sail with him? Fight in one of his battles?’

  ‘But Sir Francis Drake is dead,’ said Napoleon. He died more than four hundred years ago.’

  Miss Perdu smiled. ‘That may be, but the great Greek warrior Ulysses died thousands of years ago and I could arrange for you to meet him, too. And Bloodaxe, the dreaded Viking. Or Julius Caesar, Genghis Khan, the flying Red Baron … my list is very long. So many great heroes. So many great battles. I can drop you right in the middle of the action,’ she paused, ‘if you’re brave enough.’

  Napoleon stared at her. Maybe she was mad? Maybe it was April Fools’ Day?

  Last year Monty and Caesar had put salt on his porridge and tied his shoelaces together.

  ‘It’s up to you, of course,’ Miss Perdu said, patting him on the arm. ‘See me tomorrow if you’re interested.’

  She handed him a card.

  ‘But if you’re not interested, this conversation never happened.’

  She clicked her heels, spun around and marched off.

  Napoleon looked at the card. A message was typed on it:

  As he stared at the writing, it gradually faded until he was holding a blank card. Then the card crumbled as well. In just seconds, it was white powder in the palm of his hand.

  Napoleon watched the powder trickle through his fingers.

  He wasn’t quite sure what was going on but he had a feeling deep down that something bigger and far more exciting than anything he’d ever known was about to happen.

  And tomorrow morning at 9 o’clock, he’d find out just what that was.

  It was 8.55 am the next morning. Napoleon stood at the foot of a spiral staircase in the basement of the library. A solid wall of stainless steel was in front of him. At the top there was a small sign written in red: Special Reading Room.

  To the left of the door was a grey rubber pad, with the imprint of a hand. Above the pad was a mechanical eye, and below it a tiny speaker. The eye followed Napoleon’s movements.

  ‘Identify yourself,’ crackled a voice through the speaker.

  ‘Napoleon Smythe,’ he replied.

  The words PRESS & HOLD flashed
above the rubber pad. Napoleon pressed his hand against the pad and held it there while his DNA was scanned.

  ‘Subject identified,’ the voice said. ‘Smythe, Napoleon Augustus. Professor Perdu is expecting you.’ A door appeared in the steel wall and hummed open. ‘Enter.’

  How did it know who I was? Napoleon wondered as he stepped through the wall.

  The door hissed shut.

  Napoleon’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the strange blue light that was all around him. He was in a large chamber with a high domed ceiling covered in tiny lights that looked like stars.

  ‘I thought you’d come,’ said a voice in the dark. ‘Curiosity is essential for a successful agent.’

  Miss Perdu was sitting at a control panel full of levers and buttons, flashing lights and LED screens.

  She looked up at him. ‘Welcome aboard, BB005.’

  ‘What did you call me?’

  ‘It’s your code name: Battle Boy 005. Or it will be if you decide to join us. And I have a feeling you will.’ She smiled.

  ‘Join you? What for?’

  ‘I know you’ve got lots of questions, BB, and I’ll explain in a moment. But first you must understand that everything here is top secret military research. You will talk to no one else – I repeat, no one – about what you see and do within these walls. Do you understand?’ The librarian cracked her knuckles and stared at him intently.

  Napoleon felt a faint shiver. He nodded.

  ‘Good. Any other questions before we start our little tour?’

  Napoleon had so many questions! He thought he’d start with an easy one. ‘How did the door know who I was?’

  ‘Simple,’ said Miss Perdu. ‘I collected a sample of your DNA yesterday when I touched your arm. Then I downloaded it into the security system.’

  ‘But how did you get my DNA?’

  Miss Perdu held out her left hand and slowly peeled off what looked like her own skin. It was in fact a skin-coloured glove.

  ‘One of my earliest inventions,’ she said. ‘I call it the Helping Hand. It’s fitted with receptors that collect and store DNA.’ She tossed the glove aside. ‘Outdated technology now. But I still enjoy using it. Of course, we have something far more advanced for you.’

  What did she mean? What did she have for him that was more advanced? And why would he need anything like that?

  ‘You’re not really a librarian, are you?’ Napoleon said. ‘You’re some kind of professor.’

  ‘You could say that.’ Miss Perdu rose from the control panel. ‘Shall we begin? I’ll explain as we go along.’

  She pressed a button and a circular door on the other side of the room opened into a chamber that hummed and glowed an eerie green.

  ‘After you, BB005.’

  Napoleon hesitated and stepped into the green light.

  ‘This is the Tome Tower,’ Professor Perdu said as Napoleon looked around him.

  ‘What’s a Tome Tower?’ asked Napoleon.

  ‘A tome is a kind of book,’ said the Professor. ‘And we keep some very special books here. It’s also where we launch you on your expeditions.’

  Napoleon looked up. The tower stretched at least thirty metres above him.

  ‘It’s disguised as part of the library’s heating system,’ the professor explained. ‘It can give off some serious heat, especially when we open one of the Battle Books.’

  ‘Battle Books?’

  Professor Perdu pointed to the far side of the tower. There were shelves and shelves stacked with thick grey containers.

  ‘They’re not really books,’ the professor said. ‘We make them look that way to avoid suspicion. We certainly don’t want these to get into the wrong hands.’

  She lifted one down. ‘They’re actually super-strong caskets, made from titanium and iridium. They have to be strong because of what they contain – battles.’

  ‘Do you mean battle battles?’ asked Napoleon. His father and brothers were always talking about famous battles and he loved reading about them.

  ‘Yes. Inside each of these caskets is a battle, a real battle from the past, with all the fighting and all the men and equipment, all the sound and fury, all exactly as it happened.’

  ‘But how can a battle be in there?’ said Napoleon.

  ‘Just another of my inventions.’ The professor smiled. ‘I call it my Timetaker. It’s all to do with time and energy capture.’

  Napoleon shook his head. What was she talking about?

  Professor Perdu chuckled. ‘I know it’s a lot to understand at first. Most people think that when something is over and in the past, it’s gone forever. But that’s not true. Some pieces of the past never go away, especially those that are full of energy.’

  ‘You mean like real-live battles?’ Napoleon was starting to catch on.

  ‘Exactly. There is so much energy in a battle that it cannot just disappear when the fighting stops. In fact, all the energy binds together in a kind of bundle. We call it a BEB, a Battle Energy Bundle. The Timetaker uses a mix of Black Hole theory and time compression to grab this bundle and squeeze it into a casket. When that’s done, it means we can relive the battle over and over.’

  Napoleon felt excitement ripple though him. He didn’t understand everything the professor was saying but he could still tell it was something special.

  ‘Here.’ The professor handed him the casket. ‘Just don’t drop it.’

  Napoleon took the casket tentatively. It was heavier than he expected. ‘It’s very warm,’ he said.

  ‘They can get much warmer, believe me. Red hot, in fact, when they reach Delta Phase. This one is sleeping; it’s in Alpha Phase. Not that they ever completely go to sleep. They’re like slumbering giants.’

  Alpha? Delta? Napoleon heard the words, but the feel of the Battle Book was distracting him. It was trembling ever so slightly in his hands, as if it contained something that wanted to escape.

  ‘The forces in there are huge,’ the professor said. ‘And the pressure can build up to explosive levels. Think about it. A whole battle compressed into that single container. Sometimes you can even hear the shouting and the fighting. Now, what’s in this one?’

  She inspected the spine of the book.

  ‘Ah, yes, Number 45. The Battle of Marathon in 490 BC – three hundred Spartan warriors fighting the whole Persian army to the end! Imagine being in the thick of that battle!’

  For a moment Napoleon could almost hear yelling and screaming and swords clashing.

  ‘But how can you get into the battle?’ he asked. ‘It’s a kind of book.’ Napoleon held up the casket.

  ‘Yes. And that is where you go.’ The professor tapped the book. ‘In there.’

  ‘But … I’m too big. There’s no room.’

  ‘Oh, yes, there is,’ the professor laughed. ‘There’s plenty of time and space in there.’

  She took the casket from Napoleon and returned it gently to the shelf.

  ‘When you enter these books, you enter a whole world – a battle world where you can be easily lost, if you’re not very careful.’

  The professor walked slowly along the shelves.

  ‘Not that you can enter whenever you feel like it. The books have to be in the right phase.’ She paused and inspected a few. ‘Which of you will be ready next, I wonder?’ she whispered, touching one of them. ‘Perhaps you?’

  Napoleon noticed the number on the spine of the book: 33.

  She’s talking to the books as if they are alive, he thought.

  And in the next moment he saw why.

  ‘Some of them are moving,’ Napoleon said.

  In fact, quite a few of the books were moving, as many as ten. They looked as though they were being shaken by an invisible hand. Some were also making a low growling sound.

  ‘Those ones are in Beta Phase,’ the professor said. ‘The pressure is starting to build in them. They’re waking. But they’re still not ready to open yet.’

  Two of the books were growling more loudly th
an the others, and sort of wobbling. Number 33 was one of those. ‘They’re in Gamma Phase,’ explained the professor.

  ‘Does that mean they’re ready to open?’ Napoleon asked.

  ‘No. There’s one more phase to go – Delta. That’s when they whistle like a boiling kettle. They rattle and shudder and even howl. The pressure becomes huge! We have to open them then or they will explode. Delta is the most unstable phase of all.’

  The professor surveyed the books again.

  ‘Most of these will go back to sleep. But one will leap into Delta. There is very little warning, and we have to move quickly if we want to enter it.’

  Professor Perdu turned to Napoleon. ‘There are other phases, but you don’t need to worry about those for the moment. Any questions before we move on?’

  ‘I still don’t see how I get into the books, but when I do, what happens then?’

  ‘Basically you’ll find yourself in the middle of a battle. There’ll be bullets firing, arrows flying, men fighting to the death, and anything from cannons and spears to battle axes and bombs, all depending on what sort of battle it is and when it happened.’

  ‘But it’s all real? The bullets and spears, I mean. They’re real?’

  ‘Oh, yes. They’re as real as they can be.’

  ‘But … doesn’t that mean I could … die?’

  The professor smiled. ‘I wondered when you’d ask,’ she said. ‘One of my more impressive inventions takes care of that little matter.’

  She walked towards the door of the Tome Tower. ‘In fact, I think it’s my best invention yet.’ She beckoned to Napoleon.

  Professor Perdu led him to a table in the main chamber. On it was what looked like a suit of skin in the shape of a person.

  ‘It’s called a Simulation Skin, or SimulSkin. It’s your body armour, among other things.’