The Girl Who Stole A Planet (Amy Armstrong Book 1) Page 10

  “Oh, no! That’s sad.”

  “I suppose. In any case, several leading lights of the dog business community traveled to Tau Ceti, one of the cat homeworlds, and secretly arranged for the cat scientists to develop an artificial ‘pet’ human as a companion for dogs. Research into artificial life had been banned for a hundred years since the start of the sauro wars, but the cat scientists still agreed to the project, mainly because cats never turn down an opportunity for a prank. When the first shipment arrived at Kapteyn and the tiny sprites flew out of the transport, the dogs were shocked. The cats had agreed to develop low-intelligence, artificial humans of normal size, and here were these tiny, well-dressed fairies. It was all broadcast live on the largest cat networks, with the highest viewership for decades. Sudden death from apoplectic laughter was not uncommon that day among elderly cats.”

  “It doesn’t sound that funny.”

  “True, but you’re not a cat.”

  “So what did the dogs do?”

  “Oh, you know dogs. They’re the most agreeable and easy-going race in the galaxy, and laughed almost as hard as the cats. They bought even more of the sprites than I think they would have, simply because it make them chuckle. The tiny sprites were used as maids and repair workers at first, and after the Sprite Emancipation Act, were given freedom to live and work as they pleased.”

  The exit hatch swished up and Sunflower slid headfirst across the floor. His front legs bumped against Amy’s leg but the cat stayed prone and stretched out in utter exhaustion: eyes closed, ribs heaving in and out, and jaws open.

  “What happened?” asked Amy.

  “Can’t talk … no time,” gasped the cat. He raised his voice. “Demat 3 … reroute to Tic-Toc … Tic-Toc, do you receive?”

  The air hummed with static.

  “Receiving and operational,” said Lucia’s computerized voice.

  “Tic-Toc … execute command … ‘Cat’s Paw.’ ”

  All the surfaces of the room changed from white to sunshine yellow and the floor began to vibrate.

  “Sit closer,” gasped Sunflower. “In … center.”

  “You’re going with us? I thought it was just me and Philip.”

  “Can’t launch … without operator,” wheezed Sunflower. “Looks like … you’re stuck with me.”

  “Can I hold you on my lap?”

  The orange cat opened his eyes a crack and looked at Amy. “Yes, but no petting.”

  Amy lifted the limp animal into her lap while Philip squeezed closer, his shoulder touching hers. The surfaces of the room changed from yellow to emerald green. “Prepare for Demat” and “Have A Nice Time” flashed in block lettering across the walls.

  “At least the future has a sense of humor,” said Amy.

  The walls faded back to white and the text disappeared. The vibration in the floor stopped.

  “Excess mass detected,” intoned Tic-Toc’s voice. “Remove twenty-five point one kilograms excess mass before demat.”

  “Poona droppings,” hissed Sunflower. “I forgot about the weight limit. Toss those backpacks outside the circle.”

  Philip gasped. “What the blazes? We’ll have no food or currency at all!”

  “It’s the bags or you. Take your pick.”

  Philip kicked his pack outside the circle and Amy tossed hers at the wall. Her binoculars, jeans, flashlight, and can of Mace were inside, and the only tool she had now was the pigtail in the back pocket of her skirt.

  “Excess mass detected,” intoned Tic-Toc. “Remove four point eight kilograms excess mass before demat.”

  “Get rid of everything,” snarled Sunflower. “Shoes, belts, extra clothing!”

  Amy kicked off her sturdy Mary Janes and Philip did the same with his shoes.

  “Excess weight detected. Remove two point two kilograms excess mass before demat.”

  “If it’s not one thing, it’s another,” growled Sunflower. “Clothes off!”

  Amy clenched her jaw and stared at the cat in her lap. “I’m not doing that. Take me to the Lady instead!”

  “I’ll never understand humans,” said Sunflower. “We don’t wear clothes. Why do you have to?”

  Philip sighed and stood up. “Anything for queen and country,” he mumbled. “Look away, you two.”

  Sunflower snorted. “A cat can look at a king.”

  “He can also have a shoe thrown at him,” said Philip.

  Amy turned her head while the tall teenager stripped off his trousers and sweater and flung them out of the circle. He sat next to her in a thin undershirt, white boxer shorts, and white socks.

  “I bet those stupid shirts and pants make your monkey brains smaller,” said Sunflower.

  “At least I don’t have fleas.”

  “How dare you,” whispered the cat.

  “Prepare for demat,” spoke the computerized Lucia. “Have a nice time.”

  The walls changed to yellow, then green, and the floor vibrated and clattered like a lawnmower over a pile of aluminum cans. The red circle rose into the air, and Amy reflexively grabbed Philip’s arm for support. Sunflower lay on her lap, eyes closed and limp. A dome of blue lightning crackled over the two humans and cat, outlining the red circle precisely. The hair on Amy’s forearms stood on end and everything smelled of carbon and lavender. The entire universe shrank into the mass of a single snowflake, and exploded.

  The strange creature spun like a bobbin in the center of a gleaming, madly whirring sewing machine, the bent silver needles of its eight legs clacking on dozens of keyboards in a circular pit. Hundreds of holographic rectangles curved around and above the pit, displaying blue lines of scrolling data, static images of red circles, or video feeds of Junktown, the terraces, and warehouses full of categorized objects. Beyond the floating holograms of market reports and action figures in the original packaging, a web of black and yellow cables covered the floor of the circular room, all humming with power. The glowing squares of more traditional screens covered two-thirds of the curving walls and were broken by a segmented window, beyond which lay the gentle curve of a cloud-covered blue planet and a vast, magnificent star field.

  If the creature was human, it had been a long time since it had strolled into Burger King and ordered a shake. The eight silvery, spidery legs sprouted from the sides of a meter-wide obsidian sphere. A human torso sprouted from the top, her arms crossed over a green and gray striped sweater, as strangely inappropriate as a dress on a cat. The woman’s long white braid waved behind her back as the spidery needle-legs hammered at the keyboards and jabbed at the holographic displays. Wrinkles creased her face and deep shadows hollowed her eyes. Liver spots dotted her collarbones and sharp sinews pulled and tugged beneath the wrinkled skin of her neck. Pinpoints of light blinked and throbbed beneath the surface of that skin, like Christmas lights under a sheet of waxed paper.

  The creature moved quickly and with an unnatural speed for one so large. The ancient, spotted skin of her face held eyes that were large and blue; liquid gems that had seen the galaxy but had forgotten it and like a child, wanted to see it all over for the first time.

  Triangular yellow symbols flashed across the holographic screens, and were replaced a few seconds later by a video feed of two human teenagers sitting on a red circle in the middle of a white room. An orange tabby sprinted into the circle, and after a frantic bit of pack-tossing and pants-removal, a dome of blue energy crackled around the three beings. As the circular platform rose higher, the dome of blue lightning revealed itself as a sphere.

  A hundred screens turned crimson and screamed with warning triangles, red this time. The silver legs of the strange creature ceased tapping as a high-pitched warble drowned out the electrical hum in the air. The old creature smiled as the sphere of lightning flashed and the screen turned black. All the displays around the creature followed suit as everything in the room lost power. Outside the segmented window the blue planet blinked into nothingness, leaving only empty space and hundreds of orphaned satellites. />
  Seconds later, the panels along the walls glowed back to life and the holographic displays flashed on in clumps of two and three. The silver needle-legs of the creature rattled the keyboards around her control pit as she checked on systems and restarted those that had failed.

  After all the warning triangles were gone, the creature rubbed her wrinkled hands in a very human gesture of relief. She focused on the video feed of a grim procession crawling through the streets of Junktown.

  Four spheres of liquid metal floated in the middle of the screen, each with a dozen silver tentacles dangling in the breeze of their travel. These mechanical monsters surrounded and prodded forward a brown and white terrier and a tiny flying woman with hummingbird wings. A menagerie of cats, dogs, and sprites trotted and flew behind the prisoners.

  The metal octopi escorted the two prisoners through vast suburbs of junk to the center of the surreal metropole, where every structure seemed as out of place as a square Earth hammered into a round universe. They stopped at a thin and brilliantly gleaming ivory tower, which stretched from Junktown into the rafters and mist far above.

  A male sprite broke from the crowd at the base of the tower and flew to the tiny blonde woman. He hugged her tight and spoke a few words before the tentacles waved at the sprites and forced them apart.

  A pair of tall doors slid open at the base of the needle, and the inspectors pushed the terrier and the blonde sprite inside. The tiny woman waved at the crowd as the doors closed, and the pair were left alone.

  The blue eyes of the half-human, half-machine creature watched a video feed of the elevator ascending the tower. After the two endured a bath of cleansing mist and torrent of air from the drying fans, a pair of metal doors slid open in the wall of the creature’s chamber.

  The Lady turned and smiled yellow teeth at the two animals.

  “Hello, my children,” she said warmly.

  Nick and Betsy knelt and touched their noses to the plush white carpet.

  “Good day, Lady,” both said.

  The Lady waved a wrinkled hand.

  “I see that all three made it to the demat chamber in time, as I requested.”

  “Yes, Lady,” said Betsy.

  “You’re such good doggie. Nicky, you’ve been good, too. I put five hundred gold stars in both your accounts. You may also choose any one item from the collection. Don’t be naughty––only terrace five or below!”

  Nick raised her head and grinned. “Thank you, my Lady!”

  “Yes, thank you,” barked Betsy. “You’re the greatest and we love you so much!”

  The Lady smiled and tilted her head.

  “Now, now. None of that. Once you have a break and do some shopping, please get back to work on your other little projects.”

  “Other little projects?” asked Betsy, his tail still wagging.

  “Silly dog,” whispered Nick. “My spaceship thing and your inspector-robot thing!”

  “Oh, yes. My inspector-robot thing. I’ll work so hard on that and you’ll be very proud, my Lady!”

  The Lady smiled. “I know you will, Betsy. Now, scoot. Scoot!”

  The terrier and tiny sprite dashed back into the elevator. The door closed behind them with a swish.

  The Lady turned back to her video feeds and streams of data. In the empty space where the cloudy blue orb of Kepler Prime had rotated only a few minutes before, a sauro fleet popped into view one ship at a time. The red streaks of residual warp energy speared across the screen and formed the dangerously pointy hulls of battle cruisers.

  “Amy Armstrong,” murmured the Lady. “The girl who stole a planet.”

  Part II: London, 1889

  Chapter Eight

  The smell came first. Amy wrinkled her nose at the sharp stench of urine, human waste, rotten cabbage, wet tobacco, coal dust, and mildew. She lay on her side in complete darkness, covered by the overpowering miasma of foul odors.

  “Did I land on a garbage dump?” she groaned.

  Philip spoke through the impenetrable gloom and something touched Amy’s shoulder. “Bravo! You’re awake. Before you ask––”

  Amy rubbed her eyes. “What’s wrong with me? I can’t see anything!”

  “I’m in quite the same state. The cat said it was a possible side effect of the travel. Apparently it happens if you aren’t an ‘operator,’ as he said, along with a few other impolite things about humans.”

  Amy sat up with Philip’s help. She crossed her arms and shivered as a cold breeze rattled something that sounded like wooden shutters. A church bell tolled, low and mournful. A squadron of tomcats yowled at each other.

  “Sunflower?”

  “He went to find something,” said Philip. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he ran off and left us here to die. Never trust a cat––traitors to the last breath.”

  “That’s not true. Sunflower risked his life for us, and now he can’t go back. If he was going to stab us in the back it would have happened before we teleported or time traveled or whatever.”

  Philip sighed. “Sorry. I suppose I’m being an absolute pill. It’s been so long since I was home, that I’m looking for bad news.”

  A clip-clop and sound of rolling wood clattered in the distance and faded away. Amy guessed they were in a narrow space or a back alley.

  “Can we find someplace to sit that’s warmer? Someplace that doesn’t stink like the boys’ bathroom?”

  “That’s a superb idea,” said Philip. “But the cat said to stay here. If we wander blindly around the streets we’ll likely be trampled by a carriage.”

  “Is this London?”

  “I’m not quite sure. I heard a few Cockneys pass by and an Irishman, but we could still be anywhere.”

  Amy’s teeth chattered. “Anywhere? How about an asteroid spaceship full of talking cats and dogs?”

  “They were Irish cats and dogs, in that case.” Philip grabbed Amy’s hand. “Hush! Someone’s coming.”

  Heavy footsteps slapped the wet bricks of the lane.

  “Well, well. What do we have here?” said a deep voice with a heavy English accent. “A pair of begging lovebirds? A little squirrel with his pretty bit of jam?”

  “Tramps on the run is more like it,” said another male voice. “Not a shoe between them and rags for clothing. Leave ‘em be, Dick. They’d be sleeping in the doss if they’d a farthing between them.”

  Amy heard Philip clear his throat.

  “You’re quite right, chaps,” said the teenager. “We’ve completely lost all our traveling money. If you’d be so kind as to lead us to the nearest police constable, I give you my word that a reward of twenty pounds will be sent to you by my father.”

  “Constable? Are you blind?” asked the first voice.

  “As a matter of fact, we are.”

  Amy felt a breeze as something waved in front of her face.

  “That’s a good one, Dick,” said the second voice. “They can’t even tell who we are.”

  “Let’s drag them over to Cherry’s place,” said Dick. “She pays good coin for a healthy pair of chickens.”

  “What year is this?” blurted Amy. “Where are we?”

  “Blimey,” said the second man. “The boy’s posh and the girl’s American. Maybe they really are lost, Dick. Bring ‘em to Cherry and we’ll be clapped in irons before the week’s out.”

  Dick laughed. “You must be joking. They’ll never be found in that warren.”

  Amy carefully shifted her sitting position on the bricks of the alley, and touched the pigtail in the back pocket of her skirt. She could do some damage with the small crowbar if she weren’t blind.

  “Leave us alone, you filthy pigs,” she said. “You’ll be sorry if you don’t.”

  “Nobody talks to me like that,” growled Dick. “Not even a pretty pullet like you.”

  Hands grabbed her arms and jerked Amy to her feet.

  “Unhand her, you brutes!” yelled Philip.

  Amy heard a smack and the sound of shoes scrapi
ng and cloth ripping. Dick still held her by the arms. His breath puffed in her face; a foul wind of rotting meat and yeasty alcohol.

  “I warned you,” she said.

  Dick laughed. “Warn me? You moppet.”

  From the way he gripped her arms and the location of his voice, Amy had a good idea of Dick’s height and the location of one particularly sensitive area. She stepped forward and kneed him in the groin with all her strength. Dick screamed in pain and bent over, letting go of Amy’s wrists. Unfortunately for him, Amy wasn’t done. She searched blindly through the air with one hand until she felt Dick’s hair, then smashed him in the temple with the pigtail she held in the other. Dick crumpled at her feet like a sack of wet potatoes.

  “Bloody hell,” said the other man’s voice. “What did you do to him?”

  Something hard struck Amy across the cheek. She fell to the slimy bricks of the alley, her face numb and red dots of pain sparkling in her blinded eyes.

  “My father has money,” yelled Philip. “I promise he’ll pay you whatever you want.”

  “Indeed he will,” said the second man. “After I box your ears!”

  “Stop!”

  Sunflower’s command dangled in the air and everyone stopped what they were doing, like tiny kittens grabbed at the back of the neck. Amy rubbed her cheek and tried to stare through the red and black film over her eyes.

  “Who said that?” asked the man who had hit her.

  “I did,” said Sunflower. “Look down.”

  “There’s nowt but a big old Tom here shaking his tail.”

  “Surprise!”

  Sunflower yowled and the man screamed. Amy heard a flurry of steps, a loud thump, then and a splat. She crouched on the bricks, left hand stretched out and the other ready to strike with the metal pigtail.

  “Get back,” she snarled.