March of the Machines, Chapter Three

Dinner proceeded as others of its kind had done. Three of the Next Four were wholly absent, leaving Joe and Gala alone by candlelight at a table for two in Nottingham Castle’s vast shadowy banquet hall. Over a luxuriously fulsome meal, Joe related to Gala as much of the news from the previous day as he and his team-mates had agreed it was safe for her to hear. To Joe’s surprise, Gala did not react with the anger he had anticipated when he told her her last Time-Shifter had been lost. She simply took the information in and asked Joe to continue, listening to each word of the story as if thoroughly absorbed, then when he was done she fell to considering it all in deep silence. For long minutes Gala was lost in thought.

“This Harbin,” she said at great length. “Whoever he is, he had a plan to steal our one surviving Time-Shifting Device and use it, not destroy it…but it was accidentally destroyed anyway. While he was taking the Shifter from me, he spoke for the only time in living memory, saying he wanted to see my face. I have no idea how all this fits together…but what I suspect is that no-one does. Every instinct I have, Joe, is telling me we’re dealing with something far beyond our comprehension, and not you, not me, and not even Harbin understands yet what it’s all going to mean.”

Joe could not help agreeing, for he well remembered the singular psychic presence he and those who shared his powers had sensed in Harbin, and this made him feel as profoundly troubled as Gala sounded. “Would it perhaps be wisest then to turn to the repercussions of this event?” he suggested. “That way we might begin to see the first signs of what it has caused. One effect of the Time Shifter’s loss that occurs to me immediately is that it poses a setback to our plans, regarding your teaching me of the Prophecy and the Next Four’s origins.”

Gala nodded gravely. “A major setback,” said she. “I’ll have The Chancellor start making a new one with the utmost priority, but our last set of Time-Shifters was the product of years of work. With resources in uncertain supply, there’s no telling when it will be finished…and I desperately need the power of time-travel, if I’m to show you everything of who the Next Four are and what we’re destined to do.”

At this pronouncement Joe was torn between the vow of secrecy he had made to his friends, and the certain knowledge that here he must speak.

“Gala,” he began slowly, choosing his words with care. “One of the reasons The Four Heroes cannot accept your fated role as you describe it is that we had believed our place would ultimately be taken by our children and heirs, not some other group. My companions and I still,” – Joe paused – “we still have reason to suppose it will be so. Is there something you know, anything you can tell me, that might reconcile our belief with that which you hold to be true?”

“There’s nothing in the Prophecy that forbids The Four Heroes from having children, Joe,” was Gala’s response. “Why would there be? You’re human beings, the same as anyone else. But – and I’ll say it for the benefit of those in steerage – the Next Four are here to replace you. I’m sure there are any number of futures out there, where any number of alternative possibilities will take place, but the future we’re heading towards is one where the Next Four take over from you.”

There were many reasons why Joe had hoped for more than this. “It grieves me to find you so inflexible on this matter,” he said in a quiet voice.

Gala sat back and surveyed him by the candles’ flickering glow.

“Am I to take it, then, your heart’s set on raising a family?” she inquired, a tiny smile touching her full red lips. “All ready for marriage and a life of domestic duty with the little cheerleader?”

Joe looked up sharply. For the second time that day Gala had seemed to read his mind, awakening his most pressing anxieties and leaving him speechless.

“Forgive me, that is the correct name for the ridiculous folk-dancing she does?” Gala continued, in response to his silence. “I don’t claim to be any expert.”

“Neetra and I are…young, Gala,” Joe managed to say, though his voice faltered. He found his glass of ginger beer and drank. “Too young to plan for the decision you speak of. We…have not thought of it.”

Everything in Joe’s speech and manner proclaimed this lie for what it was, and proclaimed the truth that he and Neetra had spent the last twenty-four hours thinking of little else. Gala took a sip of her ruby wine, and leaned towards him.

“Suppose I were to tell you,” said softly, “that it’s written in the Prophecy there’s a way out for you, if that’s what you want. Just suppose for a moment you weren’t as sure as you say you are of this future role as loving father and husband, and maybe found yourself afraid you wouldn’t live up to her expectations, terrified even you’d end up hurting her or ruining the love you had. Then suppose I showed you that according to the Prophecy, you have a different path to follow, and all those fears will cease to matter if you only take it.”

Joe looked at her. She was serious.

It was all he could do to change the subject. “Such questions will have to wait, Gala, for of more importance now are the discoveries we made today,” he resumed, rather too briskly. “Now that we know the head has rallied all the extant live Dimension Borg robots, and is hatching some mysterious scheme of its own, our need to apprehend that enemy is greater than ever before.”

“Very true,” Gala replied easily, taking his abruptness in her stride, as if she could tell she would hear nothing more from him tonight about the prior subject and was prepared to be patient. “With every live one in its clutches our task is even harder, and I should also like to know why the head is keeping that gang of supervillains alive. As you said this morning, Joe, our teams will have to sustain our combined efforts and keep steering this course.”

Joe, who was aware that The Four Heroes’ alliance with the Next Four would have ended that very day had their mission been a success, felt strangely glad of the postponement. He tried to tell himself this had nothing to do with Gala’s whispered words of a short while ago, and giving her what he hoped was a resolute look, declared: “We shall, Gala, and not just because it is our responsibility to end the head’s vile machinations. For it seems that as of now, it is our one and only means of locating the real Dimension Borg. If we do not recover it, I know of nothing else on this world that can lead us to him.”

At The Four Heroes’ house a very different sort of dinner had already begun, but Carmilla was still upstairs getting ready. Ever since laying eyes on Blaster-Track Commander she had been downright insistent to Neetra that her look for the evening needed to be just right, so had taken her time and enlisted her younger sister to help her.

“I can’t believe you and Phoenix have both met him before and neither of you bothered to tell me what he looks like!” Carmilla complained, not for the first time, as she expertly flicked her face with a make-up brush. “If I’d known, I’d have made sure his first look at me wasn’t just after I’d dragged myself out of a big dirty old hole in the ground! Still, not too late. Are you finished lacing me up yet?”

“Getting there,” Neetra said from over her shoulder. “By the way, I’m glad that despite everything that’s happened today you’ve not been distracted from the really important things in life!”

Carmilla sighed, and put down her brush. “I wish, Neet,” said she. “I’m just hoping this’ll stop me thinking about it for a few hours. What are we going to do, Neetra? Why did Mum have to do it? Why has she gone to Doctor Mendelssohn?”

“I doubt she’s bringing him a reference for Bendigo, even if she is his most recent employer,” Neetra said grimly. “But they’re adults, so we have to let them make their own decisions and trust them to do the right thing. It’s Phoenix I’m the most worried about. I’ve never known her to close herself off like this. She’s not even letting the pair of us in…”

“And if she won’t do that, she’s not going to talk to anyone,” Carmilla finished for her, sadly but with acceptance. “I guess we’ll just have to wait for her to come around.”

“We will,” Neetra agreed, and tied the last of Carmilla’s straps in a bow. “So until then, you feel free to go ahead and flirt your socks off with Mr. Robo-Hunk from Another Galaxy, if it helps take your mind off things. I wish it’d work for me too!”

“Are you sure you won’t give it a try? After all, he has brought a friend for you,” Carmilla pointed out, the corners of her mouth twitching.

“Even so,” replied the world-weary Neetra. “And I’m surprised Flashtease is interested, what with all the damage this stress and bother must be doing to my looks!”

“You’re still even hotter than I was,” Carmilla reassured her, giving her a comforting squeeze. “It sucks, having little sisters!”

“Just wait until you meet my daughter,” Neetra grumbled as they set off downstairs, Carmilla’s five-inch heels clumping loudly on the steps and Neetra’s grubby worn-out trainers noiseless by comparison. The party was in full swing as the two sisters arrived and took their places at the table, joining Bret, Dylan, Phoenix, Degris, Max, Amy and Flashtease. Blaster-Track Commander had been given the place of honour, while Blaster-Track was happily trundling from chair to chair like a family dog.

“Friends,” the Commander announced, raising his glass, “your generosity and hospitality may exceed even your valour. Such lavish fare is far more than we humble rebels in our embattled galaxy are accustomed to!”

“Glad to hear it, buddy,” said Bret, handing him another plateful. “But you’ve told us you didn’t come all this way just to try the food. So what’s the situation you mentioned, and how can we help?”

“And who’s your grabby little friend?” Neetra added.

“Flashtease is part of a large superhero collective from our region of the cosmos, called The Flash Club,” Blaster-Track Commander explained, while Flashtease proudly showed off the yellow lightning-like emblem on the front of his tunic. “Boys and girls like him who are still training to become full members are known as Mini-Flashes, and part of that training is for them to spend a day with reputed local heroes like me and Blaster-Track. The experience helps them learn certain key skills they’ll need for when they’re out there in the big wide universe.”

“Looks like he already knows how to wear a short skirt, which is a good start,” Neetra put in.

“I know! Am I cute or what?” Flashtease beamed in reply, completely oblivious to any irony she might have intended.

“Right in the middle of Flashtease’s day with Blaster-Track and myself, the crisis broke,” continued the Commander. “We had no choice but to make an immediate break for your homeworld in the first run-down, over-powered galactic cruiser we were able to get our hands on, leaving the other jeeps to try and hold the fort until our return.”

“All but crippled the ship’s hyperdrive unit too, crossing so many solar systems at maximum revs,” Blaster-Track added from the floor. “It’ll take a bit of patching-up before we can get underway again.”

“But what is zis emergency zat prompted so desperate a move?” Phoenix asked. “Is Monsieur Space-Screamair up to ’is old tricks again?”

“Would that it were so simple, fair Phoenix,” Blaster-Track Commander replied solemnly. “This time our entire benighted galaxy has been thrown into turmoil – Space-Screamer and his unliving legions, The Flash Club, my freedom-fighting jeeps, and the millions of innocent beings in between. Some terrible new force has visited itself upon us, powerful and evil beyond measure. We cannot even guess what its plans are, but Computero’s long-range analysis yielded us one significant item of data: it came from Planet Earth.”

“From Earth?” Dylan repeated. “Then you were right to come here, pal! We’ll give you a hand turfing this thing out of your home system, whatever it is!”

“Never was there any doubt we could rely on The Four Heroes,” Blaster-Track Commander said thankfully. “I fear I can offer you precious little information, though, on what it is we face. We’ve been able to learn almost nothing so far. This won’t be much help…but I can tell you the creature calls himself Dimension Borg, and I know where he is.”

END OF CHAPTER THREE