The Forbidden City. John McNally

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The Forbidden City - John  McNally


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against a thirteen-year-old boy? Let’s not go there.”

      “I’ve already beaten him once and I’m not afraid of death!” said Finn.

      “Infinity!” cried Grandma.

      Al snapped his fingers and pointed straight down at him. “That’s the Drake family problem right there – like father like son. No temporal fear. On the Allenby side, we live in constant terror. Your mother was the only one of us with any guts.”

      “So – what, I’m always going to be hostage to your feelings?! You’re going to leave me behind all my life, I’m never going to be allowed to do anything, is that it?” Finn was so angry he thought he might burst.

      “Yes,” confirmed Grandma.

      “No!” said Al, “because Kaparis will soon be caught and you will soon be macro again and we’re all going to live happily ever after.”

      “Oh yeah? When exactly – and how about the truth for once. Because you’ve been promising that for a while and all we’ve got so far is a dead mouse!”

      Finn stormed back towards the seed tray tower block.

      Al sighed. “Finn, stop … Truth is, there is a possibility that we may never be able to bring you guys back to size,” Al said.

      A moment stretched in silence. Finn felt weak at the knees. It felt strange having someone speak your worst fear out loud.

      “But it’s one possibility out of many,” said Al, leaning into the compound. “I want you to look at me …”

      Finn looked up into Al’s clear, crazed, curious eyes.

      “Your father used to say ‘we are bound only by the speed of light and our imagination’ and no matter what it takes, I will find a solution and bring you back – so help me Richard Feynman.”fn2

      Grandma appeared over Al’s shoulder, eyes filling for all three of them. “Before he could walk or talk your Uncle Al could work a television remote control. He’ll find a way to fix things.”

      Al paused. “You are precious to us, see … And we’re never going to put you at risk again.”

      Finn bowed his head, resigned. While they loved him he was their prisoner; that’s just the way it was with families.

      “And stop behaving as if it’s the end of the world,” insisted Grandma. “This is not an ‘end of the world’ situation – it’s term time.”

      When it came time for goodbyes it was all a bit of a rush.

      “Happy birthday, kiddo,” said Kelly and scuffed Finn’s hair, offering his great block of a fist to bump – an action that usually deteriorated into a punch to the side of Finn’s head as Kelly pretended to forget how to do it. “Sorry you’re not coming with us.”

      “No you’re not,” said Finn, taking the punch.

      “True,” Kelly lied. “But someone has to stay at mission control.”

      “Think yourself lucky,” said Stubbs. “I don’t travel well at all.”

      “We’re supposed to be a team!” said Finn.

      “And you’re supposed to be thirteen years old,” said Delta, hugging him. “What matters most is you staying in one piece.”

      Finn watched them climb aboard a model train bound for the CFAC exit.

      “We’ll be back before you know it!” said Delta.

      “I’m not going to think about any of you!” Finn called as they pulled away. “I’ve got Yo-yo, I know he loves me!”

      “Yo-yo doesn’t love you,” came Al’s voice from on high, “he’s just the dumbest connection of nerve endings, protein and hair ever thrown together by a random universe.”

      Al saluted and winked.

      “Text me updates – and Skype as well – and bring me back a kung-fu mantis, not just a green one but something special! And don’t you dare have any fun!” Finn yelled.

      “Moi?” grinned Al, all innocent.

      “Sir, the Commander is waiting,” called a technician.

      Al’s last words were, “Look after Grandma!”

      Then Finn watched his uncle disappear.

      Up on a monitor he saw him getting hurried across the CFAC to a waiting chopper. Soon they’d all be on an overnight flight to Shanghai. Power was leaking from the building.

      At least he and Hudson could spend the rest of his birthday repeatedly blasting their way through successive digital war zones while consuming snack food. It would give him time to process his emotions and the events of the day. There are limits on everything when you’re thirteen years old, he thought … A thought immediately interrupted by—

      WHUMP! The sides of the biosphere shook.

      “Hey. Birthday greetings,” said Hudson.

      Without fail, and despite repeated warnings about vibration, Hudson would chuck down his school bag whenever he came into the lab, sending a minor shockwave through the nano-compound that could shake Finn clean out of bed.

      Hudson collapsed into the beanbag next to the compound, fringe flopping over the top of his glasses as he emitted the latest playground gossip. “Guess what? Skeggy’s older sister took him to get a tattoo of a phoenix but his mum found out and stopped it halfway so now it just looks like a chicken with worms coming out of its butt.”

      He stopped at the sound of the helicopters overhead.

      “Hey, where’s everybody going?”

      “Secret mission. Can’t say or I’d have to kill you,” said Finn.

      “I thought we were meant to be a team?” said Hudson, indignant.

      “Tell me about it,” said Finn.

      “We are a team!” said Grandma, catching the end of the exchange as she bustled into the lab, dragging Hudson’s sack of sleepover bedding after her. “We’re the three musketeers! It’s me, you and Hudson!”

      Yap! added Yo-yo, bouncing in her wake.

      “And Yo-yo. And guess what I’ve got tickets for?” Grandma looked very pleased with herself.

      “What?” Finn hardly dared ask.

      “Bulb Expo! Tomorrow!”

      “Bulb Expo?” said Finn.

      “Turns out Commander King is very senior in the Royal Horticultural Society and he’s given me three tickets. We’ll have a marvellous time!”

      “Is it a light show?” asked Hudson

      “No, silly,” said Grandma, “it’s garden bulbs! Like The X Factor for flowers.”

      Garden bulbs? Finn felt something snap inside.

      “I am not going to a poxy flower show!” he yelled.

      “Nonsense. I can’t just go with Hudson. We can’t be two musketeers, we must be three!”

      “Yes you can – he can tell you about his butt worms.”

      “Goodness. Have you got worms, Hudson?” asked Grandma.

      Hudson looked stricken.

      “Not me!” cried Hudson. “Skeggy!”

      “Who on earth is ‘Skeggy’?”

      Hudson regarded her in terror, knowing he was about to undergo ruthless cross-examination.


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