History Hackers Read online

  ‘Doing?’

  ‘Yes, doing. Freedom does not come from armchair chats, you know.’

  ‘Cool, Gran. I didn’t know you—’

  ‘Thought about such matters?’ Granny Smythe chuckled. ‘You probably think I’m in a kind of prison, stuck inside this silly old head. You’re right of course. I’m also imprisoned in a useless body, and behind the walls of this ghastly establishment. But don’t be too smug, young man. You’re in a prison, as well, its bars hidden by a veil of security and the illusion of free choice. The difference between us is that I’m too far gone to break out of my prison, whereas you can still do something about yours. And if you don’t, you deserve the shackles you inherit.’

  Napoleon was gobsmacked. ‘Wow. Yeah, right, Gran. Amazing.’

  Granny Smythe sat up straight with a surprised look on her face. ‘Good heavens. Did I just say all that? I must be even rattier than I thought I was.’ She peered at him, a playful glimmer in her eyes, before sinking back into the wheelchair. ‘We’d best keep moving. There’s a definite chill in the air.’

  Napoleon continued along the path that headed to her unit. After a while she spoke again.

  ‘And what other adventures befell you today, my boy?’

  Napoleon told her about Polyxena. The encounter had unsettled him and he wanted to talk about it. He’d mentioned the princess to his grandmother on previous visits, but didn’t think she’d remember.

  ‘Oh yes, the Trojan lass. Youngest daughter of King Priam. Tragic tale, hers. Then again, Greek myths are full of sadness.’

  ‘But she’s not a myth to me. It’s like she’s real. I see her, I talk to her, I touch her.’

  ‘Beautiful, is she?’

  It wasn’t quite the question he expected. ‘I guess so, Gran.’

  ‘More beautiful than the lass you were infatuated with last time we chatted?’

  ‘What? You mean 009? I’m not infatuated with her.’

  ‘Dropped her already, have we?’ Granny Smythe clicked her tongue and shook her head. ‘You males are so fickle.’

  ‘Sorry, Gran but Maz and Poly are poles apart. I mean, they’re not even—’ Napoleon decided that there wasn’t much point in going on. This conversation had clearly gone off track. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he muttered and pressed on a little faster, catching the slightest hint of a chuckle from his grandmother.

  When they were almost at her unit, she spoke yet again.

  ‘I was in love once, you know. Well, more than once, actually.’ She paused. ‘Rather a lot more than once, now I think about it. But one fellow in particular stole my heart.’

  ‘You mean, Grandpa?’ Napoleon had been very young when his grandfather died, but even as an old man he’d seemed tall and handsome.

  ‘Good heavens, no. One never marries the great love of one’s life.’

  This time it was Napoleon’s turn to chuckle. What an awesome Granny she was, he thought as he pushed her up the ramp onto her terrace.

  * * *

  Professor Perdu sat at her desk, her mind churning with unpleasant realities and disturbing questions.

  The first reality – that she had enemies – was hardly new. Brilliant research scientists always had enemies. But these new foes were truly powerful. Orders had to be coming from the highest levels of the MANIC command structure – the truly big string-pullers. The second reality was also obvious now: these people wanted her and Omega Squad out of the way. That in turn pointed to the third reality: they wanted total control of Operation Battle Book.

  Vandakrol and his kind weren’t the worry at all. He was just a scientist following orders. His masters were the real concern, and Professor Perdu was growing increasingly disturbed about what their intentions might be.

  Why did such powerful players want control of Operation Battle Book? What was it about her research they were so keen to get their hands on? And why were they acting behind the scenes so secretively? Surely it was because what they had in mind was evil. But what was it? Unnamed fears preyed on the professor’s mind.

  There was one other thought that kept nagging at her. She’d tried to banish it from her mind – telling herself she had to be imagining things – but it wouldn’t go. It concerned the two Minders who’d interviewed her with Dr Vandakrol. She’d thought there was something wrong about them at the meeting but had pushed it away as simply too ridiculous. Now, however, she found herself facing the dreadful possibility that her fears might well be fact.

  The two Minders were not humans. They were androids.

  Professor Perdu was no longer deeply involved in android technology, but she’d worked in the area for years and had designed some of the best models. She knew more about the subject than most and was aware of how advanced it had become. But those two Minders were frighteningly realistic. Their words were a little too clipped, their reactions too precise, and their eyes didn’t quite have that quintessential spark of life. But only someone with her expertise would pick such flaws.

  The professor shuddered with dread. Androids working in MANIC’s security service! Androids judg­ing her conduct, assessing her professional status! Vandakrol actually treated them as his superiors. That alone was ridiculous, but the implications were even worse. Where else within the power system were androids operating? What other positions of power did they hold? Artificial intelligence had made astonishing leaps in the last few years, but this was something else entirely. Androids in a superior position to humans? It was too terrible to contemplate.

  The professor pushed the thoughts out of her mind once more, refusing to entertain such fears. Besides, she had much more important things to worry about right now – the safety of her Battle Agents.

  Where was Alpha One? She double-checked her screens for any messages from him. But all she had had were those two beeps that had made her heart sink. Just two beeps from his Battle Watch. Not even enough for her to lock a location beam on him. Was it his way of saying he was okay without attracting attention? Or was it a cry for help?

  She closed her eyes, trying not to think the worst. Alpha One was a top agent who often worked alone, without supervision. He knew how to handle danger better than anyone. Even so, it had been too long since she’d heard from him. Far too long!

  And then there was Omega Squad. What if they got into trouble on their midnight mission? The professor saw a huge disaster unfolding around her, one that threatened the lives of all her Battle Agents. And there seemed to be nothing she could do.

  At least TEX was okay, much to the professor’s relief. She’d taken him out of the hospital unit and given him the sort of treatment he needed. They’d refused to release him at first, but she’d put her foot down, convinced that they were doing him more harm than good. And she was right. He responded at once to her treatment and made a full recovery. He was now in his BioCapsule again, back to his original fighting-fit condition.

  Of course! The professor suddenly realised there was something she could do. She’d send TEX to check out how Omega Squad was getting on. Yes. She’d wait until later that night, release him from his BioCapsule, kit him out with a few gadgets in case the Battle Agents needed them, and fix the CIS alarm system so that he could slip away undetected.

  Professor Perdu sighed with relief. She no longer felt quite so helpless.

  TWELVE

  ‘This is awesome,’ Nine said, and pulled ahead of Four and Five.

  The three Battle Agents were laserboarding through the outer suburbs of Futura under the cover of a moonless night. As arranged, the boys had met Nine near her local railway station at 11 pm. Five had brought his brother Caesar’s rig for her and, after a quick lesson, they’d set off for Horace Horologe’s Time Store. Nine did have a few crashes to begin with, and the boys had to stay with her for a while. But she quickly caught on and her confidence grew.

  ‘What a great way to travel.’

  ‘You’re a natural,’ said Five. ‘I’ve never seen anyone pick it up so fast.’

 
‘I knew she’d be good,’ Four added. ‘After the way she beat that Sigma agent it’s obvious she’s an honorary boy.’

  Nine gave him a death glare. ‘Lucky I’m still getting my balance right or I’d beat you as well.’

  They were sticking to back streets and alleys, avoiding open areas where they might encounter traffic. Every set of headlights was a potential security vehicle; they couldn’t afford to be stopped and questioned by anyone. Five accelerated ahead as they neared a wider road, dropping behind a low fence and signalling to the others as a vehicle approached. They slid in beside him.

  ‘How are we doing?’ asked Four. ‘Will we get there in time?’

  ‘We’re fine,’ said Five, checking both the time and the co-ordinates on his Battle Watch. ‘Should be there about ten before midnight – right on schedule according to Prof’s instruction.’

  ‘Did she tell you how we get into the Time Store without being killed?’ asked Nine. ‘I mean last time Skin warned us about those androids waiting with their meat-mincers at the lift exit. But we don’t have Skin this time.’

  ‘Yeah, and we don’t take the lift either,’ Five replied. ‘We use the fire door; it’s around the back of the building; the fourth ThortNote has its entry code. At midnight there’ll be a change of security guards via the lift entrance.’

  ‘So while they’re swapping over we sneak in through the back door,’ said Nine.

  ‘You got it,’ Five replied as the lone vehicle drove by. ‘Let’s keep moving.’

  They made good progress and reached the Time Store district at 11.45 pm. But the scene that met them was quite different from their first visit. They’d come in daylight then, and the whole area had been almost deserted, like a ghost town. Now, in the dead of night, there was a great deal of activity.

  The Battle Agents had to stick close to the walls of the block-like buildings, slipping into narrow alcoves where possible to hide from the black security vans cruising the grid-like streets. And they only just avoided detection by a couple of guards on foot patrol with android mastiffs.

  There were other vans, too, about twice the size of the security vehicles. The Battle Agents peered intently at them from the shadows. ‘They look like delivery vans,’ said 004 as a convoy of about ten vehicles slowly passed. ‘But what would they be delivering?’

  ‘And why are they armour plated?’ asked Five.

  The convoy stopped outside one of the larger buildings. Big doors opened in the wall and about forty guardroids poured forth brandishing StenVoid 320s, followed by a number of ATVs equipped with HP assault weapons.

  ‘Must be precious cargo to need so much security,’ said Nine.

  The guards and ATVs lined up on either side of the vans and directed them into the building. Once inside, people scurried around the vans on foot and in small vehicles like TrolleyBots.

  ‘They’re all wearing protective clothing and goggles,’ said Five, capturing an image with his Battle Watch. ‘Must be dangerous cargo as well.’

  ‘And look at the light,’ said Four. ‘What’s happening?’

  Suddenly the light inside the building flared and became so bright that the Battle Agents had to shield their eyes. Five tried to get another image, but the glare was too great. Then the last van entered, the doors shutting behind it.

  At the same time small vents opened in the pavement next to the Battle Agents and right through the street.

  ‘That’s exactly what happened yesterday,’ said Nine.

  Cloudy gas hissed from the vents for a few seconds, and then the vents closed.

  ‘Something very strange is going on here,’ said Four. ‘What do you think it’s all about?’

  ‘Anybody’s guess,’ Five replied, glancing at his Battle Watch. ‘But we have to move fast. It’s three minutes to midnight!’

  The Battle Agents rushed through the streets and made it to Horace Horologe’s Time Store just as the security teams were changing over. They quickly slipped around the back of the building and using the detectors on their Battle Watches found the fire door. Like the lift entrance, it was virtually invisible.

  ‘Here goes,’ said Five, drawing the fourth ThortNote from his pocket and punching in the code on the keypad.

  The little dot glowed green for a moment and an opening appeared in the wall. Without a second’s delay the agents stepped through and the opening closed behind them.

  ‘Third floor,’ Nine whispered, and sprinted up the stairs two at a time, the others right on her heels.

  At the top of the stairs they carefully opened the heavy iron fire door a little and peeped through to make sure the coast was clear. Satisfied, they sneaked into the long corridor, low on their haunches. They paused at Horace Horologe’s office, noting that there was no light under the door, and moved on.

  ‘This is it,’ said Five eventually as they reached a section of the corridor lined on both sides by glass.

  Behind the glass were two rooms, one on each side of the corridor. These rooms contained cone-shaped machines covered in switches, levers, dials and buttons. One of the rooms was dark and lifeless. The other room, however, was filled with a soft yellow glow like muted sunshine that seemed to emanate from everywhere rather than from any particular source.

  The cone-shaped machines in the room periodically flashed with tiny different coloured lights, and their meters flickered. No sound came from the machines, unlike the other day, when Nine and Five had seen them with TEX, they had been squealing like kettles on the boil. Now they were quiet, as if sleeping.

  ‘I hope this is what I think it is,’ Four said, pressing a green button next to what looked like an entrance to the yellow room. A glass panel slid open. ‘Too easy.’ He gave the thumbs up and entered.

  Nine followed, but Five paused. ‘It did seem a bit too easy,’ he muttered to himself. ‘I wonder.’ He glanced up and down the corridor before joining the others.

  ‘It’s so warm in here,’ said Nine. ‘And so humid.’

  ‘Like a greenhouse with the sun on the inside,’ Four remarked. ‘I wouldn’t want to spend too much time in here.’

  The Battle Agents stood and looked around, assessing their surroundings. The room contained nothing other than the strange cylindrical con­traptions. Spaced about a metre apart, the cylinders were approximately two and a half metres high and a little less than a metre in diameter for most of their length, tapering to a point towards the top. They were metallic except for the top fifth, which appeared to be a cloudy glass.

  ‘These are the things that have got Prof worried,’ said 005, stepping up to the nearest one. ‘I wonder what they’re for. What do they do?’

  ‘They look like rockets to me,’ said Nine.

  ‘Except for the glass,’ said Four. ‘And the fact that they’re fixtures.’ The cylinders were firmly bolted to the floor, with tubes and cables running from them.

  ‘Not all of them are operating,’ said Five, looking closely. ‘This one isn’t.’

  ‘This one isn’t either,’ said Four, walking along a row. ‘Nor this one.’

  ‘This whole row is out of action,’ said Nine. ‘But then every machine in the next row is operating.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Four wondered aloud. ‘Why are some machines operational and others aren’t?’

  ‘Good question,’ said 005. ‘Prof is convinced that these things are linked to the history hackers.’

  ‘But what could these have to do with those body snatchers?’ asked Nine, ‘I think Prof has got it wrong this —’

  ‘That’s it!’ Four shouted. He gave Nine a big hug. ‘You’re a genius.’

  ‘I am?’ said Nine.

  ‘How many machines are there in here?’ said Four.

  ‘That’s easy,’ Nine replied. ‘Ten rows of five.’

  ‘Okay. You two count the machines that are not operating. I’ll count the ones that are. And I bet I know the answer before we even start.’

  ‘What? How?’

  ‘Unless I’m
very mistaken, it’ll be thirty-four to you, sixteen to me. Start counting.’

  The Battle Agents ran along the rows, checking off the machines.

  ‘Spot on,’ said Nine when they’d finished. ‘How did you know?’

  ‘It’s obvious. How many black spots did Prof say she’d found in the Battle Books that had been hacked into?’

  ‘Sixteen.’

  ‘Exactly. And each of those black spots represents a body that has been snatched from the past. She told us that we have to find sixteen historical figures and return them to their proper places. Well, we’ve just found them.’

  ‘Oh my god,’ Nine gasped. ‘Do you really think so?’

  ‘They have to be,’ Four replied. ‘It’s the only answer that fits.’

  ‘Makes sense, all right,’ said 005. ‘See those metal capsules next to each cylinder that’s operating. They’re Carry Capsules, I bet, used to bring the digital energy here.’

  ‘Okay, then,’ said Nine. ‘Let’s have a closer look at one of these body-making machines.’

  The three Battle Agents stepped up to the nearest operating cylinder, inspecting its many dials, switches, levers and lights. Down one side a line of tiny red, blue and green lights flickered on and off in no apparent order. Next to the lights was a column of meters whose needles pulsed in sync with the flickering lights. Elsewhere on the cylinder were several LCD screens and gauges. One screen had a wavy line passing across it. Another was like a seismograph that beeped whenever its needle flicked above a certain point. A third showed a series of different coloured bar graphs that constantly changed.

  At the front of the cylinder was a larger screen on which were displayed data under a long list of headings. The Battle Agents looked down the list.

  ‘Listen to these,’ said Nine, reading out some of the headings. ‘Health Analysis. Incubation Progress. Digital Body Conversion. They fit what you’re saying, Four – that a human being is in this cylinder, or at least part of one.’ She shuddered.

  ‘That’s right,’ Five agreed, reading out more. ‘DNA Injection. Organic Status. But then look at this,’ he said, pointing to a heading further down the list. ‘T&E Extraction? I guess that’s Time and Energy Extraction. But what’s that got to do with this?’