Chapter 23

HAMISH X

“Here?” Hamish X couldn’t believe it. “How is that possible?”

“It is highly improbable,” the George raccoon said. “But not impossible. I could calculate the odds for you, if you like.”

“It was inevitable,” the Professor said, raising himself up on one spindly elbow. “The mercenaries are in their employ. Perhaps the report went out that I am here and they’ve come to finish me off. If that’s the case, you must go before they know you are with me, before they know I’ve told you everything.”

Hamish X laughed bitterly. “Everything? You didn’t tell me everything. You didn’t tell me what to do now that I know I’m less than a real person. I’m a computer processor.”

“No! No! No!” the Professor cried. “Never think that. That isn’t what I was telling you at all. Hamish X, that is what they planned for you, but you have become bigger than that, far greater than they ever imagined. You have to understand.”

“HAMISH X!” The voice of Mr. Candy rolled in through the windows, magnified to enormous volume. “HAMISH X. WE KNOW YOU ARE HERE. COME OUT. WE WISH TO TALK TO YOU.”

Hamish X went to the door.

“Hamish X!” the Professor called. Hamish X turned and glared at the old, ruined man. Professor Magnus Ballantyne-Stewart pointed a bony finger at Hamish X. “Remember. You are more than they think you are. You have a heart. They never dreamed that would happen.”

Hamish X’s face was expressionless. He shook his head and walked out the door with the George raccoon at his heels.

Out on the wall, the Bedouins had gathered and were looking out over the desert. Ranged along the top of the hill, about a kilometre away, were massive tracked vehicles, squatting in the rising sun like steel elephants. Long guns sprouted out of their tops, wide-mouthed and deadly, all of them trained on the wall of El Arak. Grey Agents stood in the open hatches of the vehicles, ready to call for a bombardment if necessary. Looking at the guns, Hamish X had no doubt that defence of the fortress would end in El Arak as a smoking heap of rubble and the Bedouins utterly destroyed.

Hamish X walked to the edge of the wall and hopped up on the parapet. He lowered a hand, grasped George, and lifted the raccoon up beside him. The desert was silent save for the wind and the low rumble of the idling vehicles, waiting for the attack order.

As he watched, two specks detached themselves from the enemy line and rose on plumes of blue flame. The specks grew larger as they sped across the intervening distance, until Hamish X could clearly make out Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet jetting across the desert towards the wall where he waited. He didn’t have to use his enhanced vision to see that the Grey Agents each held a struggling captive in their long bony gloves.

Maggie and Thomas were trying to be brave, but clearly they were terrified. The ground was a hundred metres below and the fall would be fatal should the Grey Agents choose to let go. They had fought pirates, but the Grey Agents were villains on another order of magnitude, something their childhoods of love and family had never prepared them to experience.

Hamish X waited until the Grey Agents came to a stop, hovering a few metres away in the gathering daylight, before he spoke.

“It’s me you want. Let them go.”

“What? Right now?” asked Mr. Candy.

“If you insist.” Mr. Sweet shrugged.

Both Grey Agents loosened their grip slightly on the captives. Maggie and Thomas screamed, but the Grey Agents didn’t let them drop. They tightened their grip once more.

“You see, we’ve developed a sense of humour.” Mr. Candy grinned, showing his yellow teeth.

“And what a fine sense of humour it is,” Hamish X sneered. “You should take that show on the road. What do you do for an encore? Pull the wings off flies?”

“That sounds very diverting,” Mr. Sweet said. “We must try that sometime.”

“However, today we are here to end this ridiculous chase you’ve led us on.” Mr. Candy took over. “We’ve waited long enough. Time for you to fulfill the function for which you were created.”

“What if I refuse?” Hamish X asked.

“The thought had occurred to us,” Mr. Sweet said. He held Thomas up a little higher. “Fortunately, we found ourselves some insurance hiding in the dunes not far away.”

“Don’t listen to him, Hamish X,” Maggie cried. Mr. Candy clamped a gloved hand over her mouth. She promptly sunk her teeth into that hand.

Mr. Candy looked down at her, a puzzled expression on his face, apparently feeling no pain whatsoever. “Annoying child.”

“Come with us and we’ll let these two go free,” Mr. Sweet offered.

Hamish X shook his head. “Not good enough. All these people are to be left alone.” He swept his arms wide to take in the Bedouins along the wall. “This is their land and their home. You leave here and never come back.”

The Grey Agents exchanged a glance. “Never is a long time, Hamish X,” Mr. Candy began.

“Without me, how will you open the gate?”

The Grey Agents froze. “Who told you about the gate?” Mr. Sweet demanded.

“I did!” Everyone looked to the tower doorway where Professor Ballantyne-Stewart leaned against the door frame. The effort it had taken to make his way down the stairs from his bed must have been enormous. He stood, bathed in sweat, the bedsheet wrapped around him damp and clinging. “Hamish X! Remember what I said. You are more than they ever planned you would be. You are more than a machine …”

His impassioned speech was cut off abruptly by the discharge of Mr. Candy’s pistol. In the silence after the shot, time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Hamish X watched in horror as a bloom of red blossomed on the sheet covering the Professor’s bony chest. The man looked down at the wound in disbelief, then his eyes rolled back and he crumpled in a small heap against the door frame.

“NOOOOOO!” Hamish X screamed. He turned and glared at the Grey Agents hovering in air. Mr. Candy held a smoking pistol in one hand.

“Regrettable. He had a brilliant mind, but he became dangerous. I’d heard he was in the vicinity,” Mr. Candy said without emotion.

“Indeed,” agreed Mr. Sweet. “Nice to tie up a loose end.”

Hamish X gritted his teeth. Hatred welled up in him so pure and bright that it blasted away all other considerations. All he wanted was to destroy. His boots flared to life, blazing like twin blue stars. He tensed, crouching like a tiger on the parapet, his golden eyes narrowed to slits, as he gathered himself for a lunge.

“Hamish X, no!” George cried. In the instant before Hamish X launched himself into space, the raccoon leapt onto the boy’s shoulders. Hamish X was so charged up he didn’t even feel the extra weight.

He sprang at the Grey Agents with such blinding speed that neither of them had time to move. Hamish X struck, a bolt of lightning, blue flame trailing behind him as he crossed the intervening distance. With each hand, he latched on to the throats of Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet.

Their instinctive reaction was to try to escape. Firing their jetpacks, they tried to veer off in different directions. Hamish X had the strength of his rage and all the advanced technology the ODA had poured into him. He squeezed tighter. Linked together and driven by the jetpacks, the three figures rocketed into the air in a corkscrewing spin, rising higher and higher into the brilliant desert sky. The wind roared in Hamish X’s ears. The agents’ mouths opened and closed convulsively as they fought for breath.

“HA!” Hamish X shouted into their faces. “What? Can’t breathe? At least you’re that human.”

Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet were in distress now. They had to free their hands, and so they let go of Maggie and Thomas. Maggie screamed as she was dropped but quickly grabbed hold of one of Hamish X’s boots. Thomas grabbed hold of his sister’s waist and hung on for dear life as they were spun around and around like a ride at an amusement park.

“How does it feel?” Hamish X shouted into his enemies’ faces. “How does it feel to be helpless?”

Mr. Candy brought up his pistol and aimed at Hamish X, but Mr. Sweet slapped the barrel aside at the last instant. The bullet slashed by Hamish X’s cheek like a hot wind and buried itself in George’s furry, ragged torso. Sparks flared from the tiny robot. Hamish X turned his head and saw the light in the raccoon’s eyes flicker.

“George?”

“I hate to do this Hamish X, but I must.” With its final breath⁷⁸ the George raccoon, last of its kind, sunk its teeth into Hamish X’s shoulder.

“Yow!” Hamish X yelped in pain and twisted violently, kicking with his feet. Maggie held on for dear life.

“Cool it, will ya?” she cried. Hamish X was forced to let go of Mr. Candy to pull the George raccoon from his shoulder. He held it out, looking at the broken creature’s face. “Why, George?”

“Trust me, Hamish X. Trust the King.” And with that, the creature went limp, all activity in its computerized brain ceased.

Meanwhile, Mr. Candy had not been idle. He pulled away from Hamish X and reached into his grey coat pocket. He swooped down close to Hamish X and slapped a cuff of pale glowing material onto the wrist that held Mr. Sweet.

Hamish X immediately felt his power draining away. His grip on the Grey Agent’s throat weakened, allowing Mr. Sweet to bat his hand away. The agent grabbed hold of the front of Hamish X’s jacket to keep him from falling back to the desert sand hundreds of metres below.

Hamish X was reeling. The cuff deadened the nerves in his body. He was overwhelmed by dizziness. His limbs became leaden. He tried to fight the lethargy that flooded through his body. Then Mr. Candy slapped the other cuff over Hamish X’s free wrist. Hamish X went limp.

Maggie and Thomas felt the change.

“What’s happened?” Thomas asked. He could see little beyond the back of his sister’s knees.

“I don’t know,” Maggie answered. “Hamish X has passed out.”

“The ride’s a little smoother,” Thomas noted.

Mr. Candy grabbed Hamish X by one arm and Mr. Sweet grabbed the other. They jetted back to the top of the dune where their fleet of machines waited, engines rumbling. While still a few metres above the sand, they dropped their burden, sending Maggie, Thomas, and Hamish X tumbling in the sand. Thomas and Maggie struggled to their feet, coughing and spitting sand. Hamish X lay sprawled as he fell, completely inert. He was barely breathing.

Maggie knelt at his side and turned him over onto his back.

“Hamish X! Hamish X, wake up!”

“Uh . . . Maggie?”

Maggie looked up to see agents all around them, rifles levelled. Mr. Candy and Mr. Sweet landed lightly, their jetpacks causing miniature whirlwinds in the sand. The Grey Agents looked down at Hamish X.

“I’m afraid you will be accompanying Hamish X on his final journey.” Mr. Sweet snapped his fingers. “Put them on board the aircraft. We leave for Providence immediately.”

“What about them?” One of the Grey Agents pointed at the fortress in the distance.

Mr. Candy looked over his shoulder at El Arak and shrugged. “Level it,” he said.