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  ‘Don’t bother,’ Alpha Two butted in. ‘We’ve had our fun. Let’s split.’

  ‘What’s the hurry, Number Two?’ Nine asked. ‘Worried you might get beaten?’

  ‘Let me at her,’ the Sigma agent said to Alpha Two. ‘It’ll be over in seconds.’

  Alpha Two had no choice because the whole of Pendulum were clammering for some action. They wanted a show.

  Five leaned across to Four. ‘What is she doing?’

  ‘She’s a lot stronger than she looks,’ Four replied, ‘especially her right arm for some reason. But I wouldn’t like to take him on.’

  ‘Me neither. He’s all muscle.’

  ‘So what if he thrashes her?’

  ‘Then she really will need us. We’ll have to be there to pick up the pieces.’

  ‘In that case we should be there for her now,’ said Four. ‘Come on, I’ve got an idea.’

  ‘No, Four, not one of your ideas. Please. Not now.’

  It was too late. BA004 was already striding over to Nine’s side.

  ‘Listen everybody,’ he shouted. ‘Let’s make this a little more interesting. I’m offering ten to one that Omega Squad wins.’ A murmur of amazement rippled through the crowd. ‘That’s right. Ten to one! If I’m wrong, I pay you ten bucks for every one you bet against me. So who’s game?’ A forest of hands sprang up. ‘BA005 will take your bets. Cash only and be quick about it.’

  As Five pushed through the crowd collecting bets, Four turned to Alpha Agent Two. ‘I’ll take your bet personally.’

  Alpha Two’s face reddened. ‘This is a waste of time,’ he blustered.

  ‘Come on, support your squad. How much? A hundred?’

  Alpha Two shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Ten.’

  ‘Ten?’ Four staggered back in mock shock. ‘Ten dollars? Ten measly dollars?!’

  ‘All right, then, twenty.’

  Four huffed with disdain and turned to Nine’s opponent. ‘That’s hardly a vote of confidence, is it? Hardly a glowing endorsement. He thinks you’re only worth twenty bucks!’

  The Sigma agent glowered briefly at Alpha Two, and then at Four. ‘Get on with it.’

  ‘In good time, Brutus,’ Four replied. ‘Have all bets been placed?’ he checked with Five, who promptly held up a fistful of bank notes. ‘I know a sure bet when I see one,’ said Four to Nine.

  ‘Thanks for the support,’ Nine said, not quite able to hide a grin of gratitude.

  ‘Well I’m either going to be rich or very, very poor,’ Four said to Nine.

  Nine rolled her eyes. ‘Like Brutus said: Get on with it.’

  Four dragged a small table and two chairs to the centre of the room. ‘Silence everyone,’ he shouted as Nine and the Sigma agent placed their elbows on the table. ‘The contest is about to begin.’ He moved their hands into position, as close as possible without touching, and raised his own arm in the air. ‘May the best Battle Agent win!’ he cried and dropped his arm.

  The Sigma agent reacted instantly. He grabbed Nine’s much smaller hand in his huge paw and drove her arm backwards with one rapid movement. In a second her hand was only a few centimetres above the table top. Her lips trembled with the strain as she fought back, and her brow furrowed.

  Alpha Two saw this, and sniggered. ‘Looks like the joke is really on you this time. You’re about to be laughed right out of this place for good.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure,’ Nine replied, a tiny smile sneaking across her lips.

  ‘Finish her off,’ Alpha Two ordered his agent.

  The Sigma agent grinned and pressed down. But nothing happened.

  ‘Come on,’ said Nine, the smile growing. ‘You heard Number Two. Finish me off.’

  The Sigma agent tried again, pressing with all his might this time. But still nothing happened.

  ‘I’m sick of waiting,’ Nine yawned. ‘I’ll be asleep soon.’

  Her opponent panted heavily, sweat dripped from his brow and the veins stood out on the side of his neck. But no matter how hard he pressed, Nine’s hand didn’t budge.

  ‘Sorry, loser,’ she said eventually. ‘My friends and I really can’t hang around much longer. We have more important things to do.’

  Nine pressed upwards. In less than a second she forced the Sigma agent’s arm back and over, slamming his hand down on the table. And then, so there was no doubt in anyone’s mind, she pinned it there for a few seconds longer.

  She stood and peered around at the whole of Sigma Squad, keeping her greatest scorn for Alpha Agent Two. ‘Who’s laughing now?’ she said and walked out of the bar.

  Four and Five followed, waving their winnings in the air and laughing.

  * * *

  ‘That was the best,’ Four said as the Battle Agents walked down the corridor to the lift that took them out of the College and up to the Municipal Library. ‘I’ll never look at you in the same way again, Nine.’

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ 009 replied. ‘You’re paying me a compliment?’

  ‘Sure am. You were simply amazing. I’ve never felt so proud to be in Omega Squad.’

  ‘That goes for me as well,’ said Five.

  ‘And another thing,’ Four added. ‘This is yours.’ He pressed the bundle of money into Nine’s hand. ‘Just don’t hit me with it or throw it in my face, okay?’

  ‘I can’t take this,’ said Nine.

  ‘It’s yours,’ said Five. ‘You earned it. Just put it in your pocket.’

  Nine paused, staring intensely at the boys. ‘Thanks,’ she said after a while, and then gave each of them a peck on the cheek. ‘I know I’ve been a bit touchy lately.’

  ‘I hadn’t noticed,’ said Four. ‘What about you, Five?’

  ‘Touchy? Nine? Don’t be ridiculous.’

  The three of them laughed and continued down the corridor. When they reached the lift Nine pressed the button and then turned to the others with a sad face but a glint in her eye.

  ‘So Omega Squad has been demoted,’ she said. ‘Busted big time.’

  As Nine spoke she held her ThortNote in the palm of her hand so the others could see it:

  What’s the plan for tonight?

  ‘It’s for the best,’ said BA004. ‘We needed a wake-up call.’ He winked at Five and Nine, also showing his ThortNote:

  Nine’s place is the closest to HH’s Time Store. I say we meet near Destiny station. 11 pm.

  ‘I agree,’ said BA005. ‘Dr Vandakrol was right when he said we weren’t Master Mission material. We’re not. We need to learn from Sigma Squad.’ He flashed his ThortNote, too:

  We must be VERY careful we’re not followed!

  ‘You’re right,’ Nine added. ‘We may not like those Sigmas but we need to BE like them if we’re ever going to reclaim our Master Mission status.’

  So how will we travel to the Time Store? she asked with her ThortNote.

  ‘Good point,’ Five replied. ‘I think we need to go back to basics and do some serious revision.’

  Are you two okay with Laserboards? They’re fast and we can move pretty well unseen, Five added with his ThortNote.

  Four nodded. ‘Revision, huh? Yeah, that sounds like the way to go.’

  Nine shook her head: I don’t have one.

  ‘Sounds like hard work but I’ll do anything to get there.’

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ Five replied.

  I’ll borrow one from one of my brothers.

  ‘I want to prove to Dr Vandakrol that we really are a force to be reckoned with.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Nine.

  ‘Me three,’ said Four.

  TEN

  BA005 thought about the mission planned for that night as he walked through the city streets. He went over preparations and possible problems. He’d have to sneak away without triggering the house’s security system, and without being noticed by any MANIC Eyes that would almost certainly be sent to watch him and the other Battle Agents.

  ‘We must beware!’

  Napoleon heard the voice,
as if it was echoing his own thoughts.

  ‘We give up some of our rights in the name of public good. But we must beware.’

  Though he was thinking about the mission, BA005 was still conscious of the deep resonance and authority in the voice.

  ‘We must never give up our freedom of thought, our freedom of speech and our freedom of action. Lose those, and we lose everything.’

  Napoleon suddenly stopped, aware that the voice had grown much louder. No wonder, he realised when he looked up – the speaker was almost right in front of him.

  ‘We lose everything!’

  It was the bearded man he’d seen two days ago, standing in the same square, on the same cement bench. The man was even giving the same speech, or so it seemed – like a re-run. And yet there were differences, Napoleon noticed.

  For a start the man’s voice was noticeably weaker than before. It was still powerful and riveting, but it was husky now and sounded tired. The man looked exhausted, too, as if he hadn’t slept at all. But there was more than that. He seemed somehow less substantial than before, as if he’d become less real. Napoleon struggled to decide what it was exactly about him, and the word that kept creeping into his mind was ‘ghost’. Grey, ethereal, even spectral. Yes, there was something ghostlike about the bearded man.

  ‘Our forefathers fought for what they thought were self-evident truths – that all men are created equal, endowed with inalienable Rights to Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. Think on that, my friends. Look at your own lives and think hard on it!’

  The man turned to Napoleon as if addressing him personally. For a moment it felt like they were the only people in that city square, drawn towards each other by some strange force.

  ‘Think hard on it!’

  Napoleon peered up at the face, and suddenly realised that the man seemed to be reaching out to him. Reaching out to touch him? Or to give him something? He peered closer, sure he must be imagining this.

  Before Napoleon could decide, someone rammed into him, shoving him out of the way. It was a security android. The street was full of them, some with Alsatian andogs straining at their leashes. The guards pushed through the crowd, making it clear that it was time for people to move on.

  ‘See what I mean!’ the bearded man shouted. ‘Look at your own lives.’

  A guardroid spun around at once. ‘That’s enough from you,’ he growled.

  ‘Leave him alone,’ a woman shouted at the guard. ‘He’s doing no harm.’

  The guard immediately pounced on her. She resisted, and when a man came to her help a scuffle broke out. More guards fell on the dissenters, their andogs snapping and snarling. With swift efficiency the troublemakers were whisked away to a black van on the other side of the street.

  Napoleon turned back to the bearded man, wondering what his next move would be. But he was gone, disappearing into the crowd further up the street. He’d used the diversion to escape. The guards immediately gave chase.

  ‘Keep going,’ Napoleon heard himself shout. ‘Don’t let them catch you.’

  He watched the guards barge through the people, shouting and pushing them out of the way, and hoped that the bearded man would escape.

  When the guards had gone and the black van had driven off, Napoleon turned and slowly continued on his way. But now his mind was churning, disturbed by the strange encounter. He moved uneasily through the crowd, aware that something was not quite right.

  The people were different somehow – their faces, hair, clothes – definitely not of this time. Go back, a voice of caution whispered in his head. Napoleon spun around, but there was no going back. Now the very buildings were different – no skyscrapers with skins of shining glass but low-rise structures, ochre coloured, mud brick. He looked down at his feet. Cobblestones!

  In that instant, Napoleon knew exactly where he was. The stench of smoke told him, mingled with the smell of death, the screams of slaughter and the howls of rampaging warriors.

  He was back in Troy during its dreadful final hour.

  This was a flashback, the most powerful he’d encountered yet. He tried to keep his head down, hoping it would all pass. But he had to look up because he knew she’d be there.

  And she was, far ahead, a solitary terrified figure buffeted by the crowds of fleeing Trojans.

  ‘Poly!’ he shouted.

  The Trojan princess looked around, her face fraught with fear, but didn’t see Napoleon. Then she turned and ran.

  ‘Come back!’ Napoleon screamed and chased after her.

  He ran through the burning city, through lanes and alleys packed with terrified people fleeing their homes. More than once he lost sight of Polyxena, but he kept running, dodging people, bumping into them, calling out, gradually gaining on her.

  ‘Wait,’ he yelled as he finally caught up to the princess, grabbing her arm and hauling her to a stop.

  Napoleon stared, more confused than ever. It wasn’t Polyxena at all.

  ‘Ouch,’ the girl cried. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, ‘I thought you were some­one else.’

  He looked around, searching for Polyxena, but the flashback had ended. There was no Troy anymore, no smoke or fleeing people. These were just ordinary everyday Futurans, some glancing suspiciously at him as they passed.

  ‘Let go,’ the girl insisted. ‘You’re hurting me.’

  ‘Of course,’ Napoleon muttered. ‘I’m sorry.’

  She glanced doubtfully at him and hurried off.

  He watched her go, and then buried his face in his hands.

  * * *

  Alpha Agent One lifted his face from the murky puddle and spluttered, pain coursing through every fibre of his body. He should be dead. And they must have thought he was, or they’d have put a bullet in his head, or laser-fried his brain. Or were they leaving him as an example to the others? Mess with us and we mess with you.

  They’d sure messed him up. But he wasn’t going to die. He wouldn’t give them that pleasure.

  He spat blood, black and congealed, and cried out at the excruciating pain in his lower back. Kidneys! Those monsters know where to kick. He ran his swollen tongue around the inside of his mouth. Teeth loose, jaw re-arranged, nose mangled, left eye too puffed up to see out of. Yeah, they sure know where to kick.

  But he refused to die.

  If only he could get a message to the professor. He edged his fingers slowly, painfully towards his Battle Watch, hoping against hope that it might still be functioning. It was, but only just. He fumbled with its buckled form and managed to make it send out a couple of beeps before it completely died.

  He cursed. Two lousy beeps. What good would that do? Enough to stress the prof without telling her anything useful.

  But there was worse. The DataBlok had fallen from his Battle Watch and been crushed to pieces. He ran his fingers over the broken bits that lay in the gravel, and wanted to cry. But he steeled himself and forced back the tears. There was still the copy. They hadn’t beaten him yet.

  Alpha One made another attempt to move, slow and deliberate. He made a pact with himself: he would reach the professor whatever it took. But the pain was far too great. He let out a pitiful wail, his head slumped to the ground, and he lost consciousness once more.

  ELEVEN

  ‘I trust you had a suitably eventful day at college, Master Winston.’

  ‘I did, Bernard,’ BA004 replied as his chauffeur drove out of the lane at the back of the library into the city traffic. ‘I had a good one, in fact – a Roman sea battle this time. But you know, the really good bit for me today was getting on with a certain person a little better.’

  ‘That is gratifying to hear.’

  ‘How’s my mother?’

  ‘I’m pleased to report a bright note on that count. Your mother seemed to quite sparkle today. Her complexion was definitely rosier, she did two circuits of the garden, and I’m even sure I heard her humming a tune at one stage.’

  Winston knew why h
is mother seemed better. It was that problem, a good meaty problem to get her teeth into; she loved nothing more.

  ‘Did she eat anything?’

  ‘I did have to coax her a little, but yes, as a matter of fact she did. ’

  ‘That’s so good,’ said Winston. ‘Thanks for keeping an eye on her, Bernard.’ He sat back and watched the many little Electro cars swarm around the limousine. ‘I wondered if you could help me with something else,’ he asked after a while.

  ‘Of course, Master Winston. What is it?’

  ‘I have to go out tonight at about ten. Can you fix the security system so that I don’t trigger it?’

  ‘Consider it done. Might I enquire where you’re going?’

  ‘The Time Store.’

  ‘I thought as much. And do you anticipate trouble whilst there?’

  ‘That place breeds trouble.’

  ‘In that case should I keep myself available for possible backup?’

  ‘That’d be just great, if you don’t mind, Bernard.’

  ‘My pleasure entirely, Master Winston.’

  * * *

  ‘It seemed so wrong, Granny.’

  Napoleon was pushing his grandmother through the manicured grounds of the Autumn Lodge Retirement Village. He’d been telling her about his encounter with the bearded vagabond and how the security guards had run roughshod over the people listening to him.

  ‘He wasn’t doing any harm, really. He was just making people think. How can that be a crime? Anyway, what he said seemed to make sense, if you know what I mean?’

  Napoleon stopped and peeped around the side of the wheelchair. His grandmother appeared to have fallen asleep. He was a little disappointed. But then it was to be expected. He had been raving on about the man, strangely excited by what he’d said, even agitated. Why would she be interested in stuff like that?

  ‘Sorry, Gran,’ he whispered. ‘Didn’t mean to bore you with politics.’

  He was about to move on when she suddenly spoke.

  ‘Don’t apologise, Napoleon,’ she said, wide awake in fact. ‘Politics is precisely the sort of thing you should be thinking about, you and those friends you gallivant about with. And not just thinking, mind. Doing as well.’