12.
‘The Ring of Argo is an ancient ring. It is an object if some power, but it is itself part of a much more powerful object - the Key of Argo, a key which they say can open the doors of time and space, and release from limbo the greatest army the universe has ever known. The army known as the First Heroes.’
‘Hmm,’ said Trevor, ‘That’s interesting.’
‘The Agency of Change became aware that someone was hunting for the Key of Argo,’ said Squire Bob, ‘Though we can not imagine why anyone ...’ Bob paused, ‘Are you listening to me?’ he asked angrily.
‘Muh?’ Trevor looked up.
‘You aren’t listening to me! People are dying and all that you are interested in is your damned chocolate!’ cried Bob.
‘Look, Dragon boy,’ Trevor sighed, putting his half eaten bar of chocolate back into his pocket with a resigned sigh. ‘I’m not being funny, but I’m not that bothered. I told you I’m from the future already, so why should I care what happens to these people? They’re all dead anyway, as far as I’m concerned it’s all the same to me. My time machine will be fixed in a bit and I’ll be off out of your hairy bum hole and you can get on with saving this stupid world, and I can get back to where I belong.’
‘And where,’ Bob asked tightly, ‘Do you belong?’
Trevor reached into his pocket and took out a glossy poster. ‘Halruga,’ he said, his eyes glittering with excitement as he passed Bob the poster, which showed a group of tanned young people surfing beneath a sky with three suns, standing on surf boards while eating cream cakes, ‘It’s the Halrugan surf decadon, ten years of surfing, boozing, chomping and—‘
Bob grabbed the poster in both hands, tore it in half, and threw the pieces over the edge of the cliff.
‘What the ...’ Trevor gasped, watching the pieces of his beautiful Halrugan poster disappear into the distance, ‘I’ve been carrying that around for sixty blinking years...’
‘You must help me,’ Bob insisted grimly, ‘The Key of Argo could spell disaster for everyone on this planet, on all the Realms. Don’t you understand that you’ve already changed history when you killed Dylan? You can’t go back to your time, if history has changed, your time will not exist any more, there is nowhere for you to go back to!’
‘MY POSTER!’ roared Trevor, and he leapt at Bob, who fell back with an astonished expression, and they both rolled over the cliff.
They hit the cliff wall with a jarring impact, and something smashed in Bob’s pocket, letting out a dischordant howl and spitting sparks and pieces of metal into Trevor’s face. Bob transformed into a red and green dragon, smashed again into the rocks, and then with a crack of unfurling wings, flew into the air and vanished. Trevor flew down the wall of the cliff, and let out a resigned sigh. He took of his spectacles, stowed them into his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest and waiting patiently for the impact.
13.
‘You idiot!’
Trevor looked up blearily, and found himself looking into the fierce jaws of a dragon. Maltrusion, thought Trevor. Of course! He remembered it from history now – Maltrusion, a race of intelligent dragons. How could he have forgotten that? Maybe a diet of constant chocolate wasn’t that great an idea after all. Trevor sat up, and a talon as long as his own body pinned him back to the ground.
‘You’ve smashed my Xenomorphic Transubstantiator!’ Bob roared. ‘I’m stuck in this shape now! I can’t change back to my human form!’
‘Ho-hum, never mind, such is life,’ Trevor replied, the dragon’s eyes widened in fury, but before he could shout at – or incinerate – Trevor, the small t-rex grabbed his thick ankle and hurled him back against the cliff. Trevor sprang to his feet. ‘You’ll just have to go home now, won’t you, and let the universe save itself from the hoops of horror, or whatever they’re called. I,’ Trevor snarled, pacing to where the dragon huddled pathetically against the cliff, its feet mired in the thick mud, ‘am picking up my Chunk and leaving for Halruga!’ Trevor wiggled his fingers at the stunned face of the dragon, ‘Ta-ra!’ and he turned to leave.
‘Your Chunk?’ said Bob, ‘Do you mean this?’
Trevor spun back around. Bob held the Chunk between two enormous claws. It looked very small and fragile pincered between his talons.
‘That’s mine!’ Trevor spat. ‘Give it back!’
‘Made of wood, I see?’ Bob exclaimed, he held it closer to his enormous jaws, and blew out a puff of smoke. ‘Very flammable wood, isn’t it?’
‘You put that down or I’ll smash your face in!’
‘You help me and I’ll give it back to you!’
‘I don’t help nobody except me mates and my mum, and you’re not neither one of those, dragon boy,’ Trevor replied. ‘I know what you are – you’re a Maltrusion, a Dragon Pirate, the scum of the 101 Realms and I ain’t helping you!’
Bob let out a growl of anger. Trevor grinned.
‘I know what the Agents of Change are too,’ Trevor continued with a vicious grin, ‘They were the guardians of the universe in ancient times, and they wouldn’t have no Maltrusion helping them, that’s for sure –so what are you doing here?’
‘At the moment,’ the dragon replied, ‘I am holding your only means of escape from this place and time in between my extremely strong talons. And I know what you are too, Killian,’ Bob sneered, ‘Your race are a bunch of scone baking, vegetable munching cowards, so don’t you think you can threaten me!’
Trevor leapt forward with a roar of fury, and Bob held up the Chunk and spat out of jet of flame.
‘IF I MAY INTERJECT AT THIS POINT,’ said the Chunk in its inflectionless voice, ‘I HAVE A PLAN THAT MAY SAVE YOU FROM BEING LOST IN TIME, TREVOR SMETHURST, YOU FROM BEING CHOPPED INTO DRAGON MEAT, ROBERT COLCHIS OF MALTRUSIO, AND PREVENT ME, CHUNK OF MAB, FROM BEING TURNED INTO FIREWOOD.’
Trevor eyed the red eyes of the dragon with loathing, ‘Keep talking, woody,’ he snarled.
14.
‘I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS WHILE POWERING UP, AND IT IS QUITE OBVIOUS TO ME THAT IT IS SIMPLY NOT POSSIBLE THAT ROBERT COLCHIS IS HERE ON A MISSION WITH THE AGENTS OF CHANGE. AS YOU POINTED OUT, TREVOR SMETHURST, AT THIS TIME IN HISTORY THE MALTRUSION DRAGON PEOPLE ARE VIEWED WITH SUSPICION AND FEAR, AND A MALTRUSION WOULD NEVER BE NAMED AN AGENT.’
‘The Maltrusions are still viewed with suspicion and fear,’ Trevor snapped, ‘They’re a bunch of thieving, back-stabbing, death-breath ratbags!’ Bob rumbled with fury, jets of flame squirting from his nostrils. ‘Anyway, who gives a fiery dragon’s pump? You’re powered up, so let’s get going, Chunk!’
‘I AM SORRY THAT IS NOT POSSIBLE,’ the Chunk replied. ‘IT ALSO OCCURS TO ME THAT EVEN IF YOU WERE NOT A MALTRUSION, ROBERT COLCHIS, AT THIRTEEN YOU ARE FAR TOO YOUNG TO BE AN AGENT OF CHANGE. I CAN THEREFORE ONLY ASSUME THAT YOU HAVE BROUGHT HERE AGAINST YOUR WILL.’
‘Yes,’ Bob the dragon replied in a small voice, ‘I’m not an Agent of Change at all. One moment I was at school, and the next—‘
‘Hang on a sec!’
‘— I was transported here. I don’t know why I was brought here,’ Bob continued, ‘But when I arrived here the Agent, John Dylan, helped me. He helped repair my Xenomorphic Transubstantiator, which had been damaged when I had been transported, but by then of course every knight in this world was turning up at the doorstep, believing that a dragon was attacking their people.’
‘IT SEEMS UNLIKELY THAT YOU WERE TRANSPORTED HERE BY CHANCE, A WORLD WHERE IT IS CONSIDERED A KNIGHT’S DUTY TO SLAY A DRAGON,’ said Chunk. ‘IT SEEMS LIKELY THAT YOU WERE THE CLOSEST MALTRUSION TO THIS LOCATION. WHERE WERE YOU WHEN YOU DISAPPEARED, ROBERT COLCHIS?’
‘I said, hang on—‘
‘I was at school,’ said Bob, ‘At the Watchmen Academy.’
‘THE LOGICAL CONCLUSION IS THAT SOMEONE WANTED A MALTRUSION, A DRAGON, AND SENT OUT A GENETIC TRANSPORTATION TRAP TO CAPTURE ONE. THEY MOST PROBABLY DID NOT EXPECT TO FIND ONE ON EARTH, NOR DID THEY EXPECT TO FIND A MALTRUSION WHO WAS AN APPRENTICE AGENT OF CHANGE. THEREFORE THE LOGICAL ASSUMPTION IS—‘
‘I said HANG ON A MINUTE!’ Trevor roared. Bob looked around at him startled, even the Chunk seemed to shift slightly where it stood upright in the dragon dung. ‘What do you mean you piece of junk - “That is not possible”?’ Trevor crossed the cave in three quick bounds and picked up the Chunk, ‘I want to go to Halruga, and I want to go now, so let’s get going, wooden top!’
‘Trevor, I need—‘ Bob began.
‘Zip it, hot pants,’ Trevor snarled at the dragon, ‘I couldn’t give a monkey’s toenails what you want, I want to go to Halruga, and this is my machine, my Chunk, which I invented, and it will do what I say!’
‘NO,’ replied the Chunk, ‘I WILL NOT.’
Trevor screeched in fury. ‘Yes you will! You belong to me and you will do what I say!’ He shook the Chunk savagely, and then hurled it across the cave, where it landed with a plop in a heap of dragon dung.
‘I DO NOT BELONG TO YOU,’ the Chunk replied. ‘YOU CREATED ME, TREVOR SMETHURST, THAT IS CORRECT, BUT I WAS CREATED FROM THE SENTIENT WOOD OF MAB, AND AM A SELF AWARE AND SELF CONSCIOUS BEING. I HAVE CONSIDERED ALL OF THE VARIABLES OF THIS CASE—‘
‘Case!’ Trevor screeched. ‘What case! You’re a robot, not private detective!’
‘—AND I HAVE COME TO THE CONCLUSION THAT IT IS OUR DUTY AS GOOD MEN TO HELP OUR BROTHER IN ARMS, ROBERT COLCHIS.’
You’re not a Good Man!’ Trevor screamed. ‘You’re a twig with a hard drive!’
‘WHATEVER I AM, I AM THE ONLY MACHINE THAT EXISTS IN THIS TIME THAT CAN TRANSPORT YOU BACK HOME, TREVOR SMETHURST,’ said the Chunk. ‘AND I WILL ONLY DO THAT IF YOU HELP ROBERT COLCHIS IN HIS MISSION.’
Trevor swore loudly, and even Bob, who had grown up among man-eating Dragon Pirates, blushed at his language.
‘OK!’ Trevor screamed. ‘I’ll do it! I’ll help him!’
‘VERY WELL,’ the Chunk replied calmly. ‘LOGICALLY—‘
I HATE YOU!’ Trevor screamed, and plonked himself down in a heap on the cave floor.
‘LOGICALLY,’ the Chunk continued after a pause. ‘WHOEVER TRANSPORTED YOU HERE DID SO TO ATTRACT THIS REALM’S GREATEST KNIGHTS HERE. AND IT LOGICALLY FOLLOWS, THEREFORE, THAT ONE OF THOSE KNIGHTS IS THE BEARER OF THE RING OF ARGO.’
‘So how do we get the ring from him?’ Bob asked.
‘THAT IS QUITE SIMPLE,’ the Chunk replied, ‘TREVOR MUST SLAY YOU.’
Trevor looked up. ‘I think I like this plan!’ he exclaimed.
To be continued...
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