Hamish X and the Hollow Mountain (17 page)

“Sarcasm is unnecessary. She is in the courtyard on the workshop level. More specifically, she is training in the Guards' facility, practising hand-to-hand combat. She has
just knocked Guard Captain Aidan down for the fourth straight time in a judo demonstration.”

Hamish X grinned at that. “I'll bet he isn't very happy.”

“No, he is not happy.”

Hamish chuckled and took a bite of his toast. The toast was perfectly golden and crisp. George was great at making toast.

In the two weeks they'd been guests at the Hollow Mountain, Mimi had taken to the idea of becoming one of the King's Guards. She was progressing quickly. Her raw strength and agility helped her excel. Her hot temper was a bit of a drawback, however. Aidan was one of the few sparring partners brave enough to trade blows with her in the practice ring. Despite her lack of formal training, she was fast becoming the best hand-to-hand fighter in the Hollow Mountain.

“Where is Parveen?”

“He is in the electronics lab with his sister, Noor.”

Parveen's sister: that was a still a surprise. Parveen had thought his entire family gone forever until Noor removed her mask in the operating theatre that day. She had been scooped up by the ODA to work in a factory in Malaysia that manufactured sharp and pointy toys for third world children. She had managed to escape with the help of the King's agents and had come to live at the Hollow Mountain. Technical expertise ran in the family. She was brilliant with electronics and computers. Most of the program that had allowed Hamish X to remember his past was her work. Now Parveen and Noor were practically joined at the hip. After having thought each other lost, they didn't want to lose each other again.

“Mrs. Francis? Mr. Kipling?”

“They are the only adults in the Hollow Mountain.”

“I know
that,
” Hamish X said, exasperated. “Where are they right now?”

“Mrs. Francis is supervising the preparations for the wedding feast later today. Mr. Kipling is at the tailor's undergoing the final fitting of his dress uniform. He is complaining that the seat of the trousers is too snug.”

Hamish X sighed. The wedding was tonight. The union of Mr. Kipling and Mrs. Francis was to be a grand affair, a highly anticipated social event officiated by the King on the lawn of the Royal Park in Frieda's Cavern. Mrs. Francis was worried that the army of George raccoons in the kitchens would not prepare food properly. She fretted day and night about the ingredients, the tablecloths, the napkins, which spoons went where, which fork was left and which right.

He smiled when he thought of the stout housekeeper he'd first met in the receiving area at the Windcity Orphanage and Cheese Factory. She had been a fretful, nervous little woman wringing her dingy brown apron, hardly a heroine. Even then, however, he had seen her goodness in the secret smile she gave him on that day. In their struggle with the Cheese Pirates she had proven her bravery and loyalty, even melting the heart of Mr. Kipling, a pirate himself until she taught him how to love again.

Everywhere Mrs. Francis went in the Hollow Mountain, she was followed by a swarm of young children, all eager for the love of a mother that no raccoon or computer could provide, however cleverly constructed or ingeniously programmed. She could be found tying shoelaces or reading stories on the lawn, mending tears in clothing or having tea parties with any number of dolls. Mrs. Francis was unofficially the mother of over three thousand orphans. Mr. Kipling bore all this with stoic patience,
knowing that he would always have to share his future bride's love with an untold number of young children.

Hamish X was happy for Mrs. Francis and Mr. Kipling, and for Parveen and Mimi. They were busy. All the children who had come from Windcity in the
Orphan Queen
had been absorbed into the population of the city under the mountain and they all had a job to carry out or a schoolroom to learn in or a duty to perform.

Everyone was taken care of. Everyone had a purpose. Everyone, that is, except … Hamish X. He was at a loss.

He was left to wander and explore. He read in the library or watched the raccoons building in the workshop. He tagged along to watch Mimi train or Parveen tinker with some device or other he was working on. A lot of the time he just sat in his little kitchen, looking out over the busy little colony of children, each with a place and a purpose, wondering what his place and purpose might possibly be. He had tried to get an audience with King Liam to discuss his future but the George raccoons had regretfully informed him that the King was receiving no visitors and that all requests and queries should be delivered through one's raccoon and would be addressed in due time.

Hamish X was frustrated. Why had Liam gone to all the trouble of planting the knife on him, bringing him here, and reviving him if he wasn't going to tell him what he should be doing? He stuffed the last morsel of toast into his mouth and, chewing in a manner that suggested he was annoyed with the world, clomped out the front door to the elevator.

The only drawback to the Hollow Mountain that Hamish X had discovered was that one could wait forever for the elevator. There was only one car and it serviced all the caverns. He joined a group of children waiting for the
next car. One of them, a young girl of about eight, glanced over at him and immediately her eyes went wide.

“You're Hamish X, aren't you?” she said breathlessly. The other children's heads whipped around. In a second, Hamish X was surrounded by a press of children eagerly asking him questions about his adventures and about his boots. He suffered their attentions as best he could, all the while feeling uncomfortable. They even asked to touch the boots, running their fingers over the slick surface of his footwear.

Since the restart, his boots had felt strange to him. Certainly, they were strange in the first place, but now that he remembered when they were grafted onto his body against his will, they felt alien. He could still feel their power like a soft hum, waiting to be unleashed. He had experimented on his own, late at night while lying in his bed. He would look down at the boots, focusing his mind on them. They would glow with blue radiance, reacting to his attentions. He felt the incredible power, the destructive energy they could release, but he could control it. He was becoming more adept at focusing the power. At first, he could only make the boots throb with energy, scorching his bedclothes and causing George to worry as he set the fire alarm off in his apartment. After some practice, though, he was able to control their intensity, letting it trickle through the boots at whatever level he wished. He could make the boots cling to the wall by sending the right amount of power to the knobbly soles. He could regulate his leaps and monitor his speed. In short, he was learning how to master the boots rather than be mastered by them.

The elevator car arrived. The doors opened and a crowd of children, chattering happily, stepped out as Hamish X and his newfound admirers stepped in. Again, he was
subjected to stares of fascination. He moved to the back of the car and tried to concentrate on the scenery outside.

His thoughts returned to the boots. Since the King had revived him, there had been another development. The voice that had spoken to him was silent. He spent the dark hours of the night straining to hear the beautiful woman's voice, yearning for its soothing tone. The voice had always spoken when he was in need. He had identified it with his mother. Now that he knew the boots were all part of some plan of the ODA's, he understood that the voice was merely part of that plan and so couldn't be anything good. The book that he had also cherished as a link to his mother was just a mass of codes and hidden programming language.

He knew that the voice was nothing but a construct. He still missed it, though. Now he felt so alone in the world. Now that he knew there was no mother for him, he wished he still had that hope. At least he wouldn't feel so lonely and adrift. Parveen had found Noor. Mimi had the Guards. He had nothing. Again, a little bubble of resentment towards King Liam rose to the top of his mind.

The car arrived at the Workshop Cavern. He stepped out into the courtyard with a couple of other children. Immediately a barrage of shouts and cheers assaulted his ears. A crowd was gathered in front of the doors to the Guards' barracks. Hamish X couldn't see what was happening, but he heard sharp cracks as if someone was banging sticks together. Then there was a meaty
thwack!
and someone yelped in pain. Cheers went up again.

“MI-MI! MI-MI! MI-MI!” the children chanted.

“Uh-oh,” Hamish X chuckled and walked towards the crowd.

Chapter 14

Hamish X joined the spectators, pushing his way through the children until he got to the front. At the centre of the throng, a large stone circle held only two people. Mimi stood gripping a wooden stick about a metre long. Aidan held a similar weapon and stood across the ring from her. Mimi was flushed in the face, her eyes alight and her teeth bared in a fierce grin.

“Best four outta seven? How 'bout it, Aidan?” Mimi brandished her stick over her head.

Aidan's blond hair was plastered down over his forehead. He was breathing hard and rubbing his right buttock. His face was grim.

Mimi looked fresh by comparison. She wore a T-shirt and black cotton trousers. She hopped easily from foot to foot.

“Beginner's luck,” Aidan huffed.

“I'm shore I'll lose this time,” Mimi smiled sweetly. “Do ya feel lucky?”

Children hooted with laughter, catcalling Aidan and whistling.

“She's good.”

Hamish X turned to find Cara standing beside him. She was dressed in her everyday black uniform. Her arms were crossed and her hip cocked as she watched her brother glare at Mimi across the empty ring.

“Hello, Cara,” Hamish X said. He felt a little uncomfortable with the pretty girl. She was slightly taller than him and it made him feel a little self-conscious. Her
perfectly arranged hair hung framing her face as she watched the match. She turned and caught him studying her. Hamish X flushed and shifted uneasily from foot to foot. She merely looked at him with her serious brown eyes.

She spoke again, her tone casual and easy. “Stick fighting isn't as easy as it looks,” she said. “To the layman, it's a matter of merely hitting someone with a stick. But in the hands of a master, a simple stick can become an instrument of beauty and a lethal weapon. Mimi and I don't get along too well, but I can appreciate her natural ability. I've never seen anyone beat Aidan more than once.”

“All right,” Aidan said through gritted teeth. “Let's do this.”

He launched himself across the ring, bringing down his stick. Mimi parried the blow easily and laughed as he counterattacked with a side swing. She leaned away from the swing's arc, dancing out of reach. Aidan grimly pursued her.

“How did you end up here, Cara?”

“You really want to know?” Hamish X nodded. The girl looked at him, her brown eyes searching his golden ones. She seemed to make a decision. Shrugging a shoulder, she turned to watch the fight as she spoke. “My parents owned a big multinational gourmet dog food company. They made what they claimed was the most delicious dog food in the world. Fifteen different varieties, from Chicken Cordon Bleu to Veal Scallopini, all created by the best chefs on the planet. How a dog would tell the difference I'll never know. They hardly care what they eat—I mean, these are animals that sniff each other's bottoms.” Hamish X laughed at that and she shook her head. “Anyway, they made a packet of money. We had a huge house with a
swimming pool, fancy cars, a jet … everything we ever wanted. Yes, Aidan!” This in response to an excellent attack by Aidan that Mimi turned aside with some difficulty. Cara scowled and continued her story. “There was an accident. My mother and father's jet went down and they were never found.”

“I'm sorry.”

Cara shrugged. “I was really young, Aidan was barely walking. I can't really remember them.” Her eyes were distant for a moment, then she continued. “We were supposed to inherit everything but we were too young to take possession of the estate. So the bank appointed a guardian.” She sneered. “My dear Uncle Bertie.

“At first he was nice to us, but I could tell there was something wrong. His smiles and his jokes were all a little too jolly. He tried really hard to make us like him. Bit by bit, he began to change. He started spending: fancy clothes, different girlfriends every day of the week, a yacht and private jet. I tried to tell people but no one paid any attention to me. I was just a kid.

“In less than a year our inheritance was all but gone. He started to go into debt. He got phone calls from bill collectors and the banks. Soon he had no way to pay the bills. He blamed us for everything, saying that if it wasn't for us he'd be okay; that we didn't do anything but eat and take up space. He said he'd be better off without us.”

Aidan rained blows down on Mimi, backing her away, forcing her to defend herself. She was panting now, her wiry hair dripping sweat.

“One day, Uncle Bertie called us into the den. He was talking to two people, a man and a woman all dressed in grey.”

“Grey Agents.”

“Yes. Bertie sold us to them. They took us away and we were sent to work at a seaweed farm in Russia on the freezing coast of the Baltic Sea. To Uncle Bertie's credit, he looked sad when we were led to the helicopter. As we lifted off, he came running out, shouting and waving, tears in his eyes. I like to think he'd changed his mind, but it was too late by then.”

Hamish X didn't know what to say. It was such a terrible story. Sometimes he felt he'd missed out by not remembering his mother and his family. When he heard stories like Cara's, though, he figured it was a mercy to have no memory of his mother beyond a fleeting impression.

“Anyway,” Cara said brightly, “I managed to steal a raft and float us to Finland, where we were contacted by the King's agents and brought here.”