the City of Serenity.’ He paused to collect his thoughts. ‘Before you understand what it is, you must first learn a little about the history of my people. Many millions of years ago, the Axis Lords were a primitive and warlike people—much like the inhabitants of your world today. But, as the centuries passed, our people continued to develop intellectually until we abandoned war completely.
‘There followed a time of peace. The Axis Lords had advanced to a point where they were masters in virtually every field—mathematics, history, science, technology… the Axis Lords became rightfully known as the most accomplished race in the galaxy.
‘However, the Axis Lords still lacked one thing—imagination. Now, I do not speak of the imagination required to build machines or to formulate mathematical theorems, but of the imagination required for a child to make up a story, or for a sculptor to create a work of art. Among all the billions of Axis Lords, there was not a single poet, or an artist, or a novelist.
‘But one man changed everything. His name was Angalax, and he was born on the Axis world of Hal-Minor. Angalax was not a promising student; he performed poorly in school and failed most of his final exams. However, at the age of eighteen, Angalax did one thing that no Axis Lord before him had ever done. Angalax wrote a poem. Nobody had experienced anything like it; poetry was still an unknown concept in the entire Blue galaxy.
‘But Axis Lords have always been quick learners. Angalax’s poem—a work of intense beauty—sparked off a massive cultural revolution on the Axis planets. Over the next six months, thousands of poets, novelists, painters and sculptors began to spring up all throughout the Axis Belt. These were exciting times.
‘But the Axis government was frightened. They were frightened that the cultural revolution would lead to a political revolution. Indeed, many Axis Lords began to call for a new way of ruling—you would call it a democracy.’
Mr Slater smiled a sad smile. ‘I am sure you can guess what happened next.’
‘War?’ said Martin.
Slater nodded. ‘War. The government made a new law stating that all of the arts were henceforth forbidden. Poetry, painting, dance, drama… as quickly as these concepts had come into existence they were outlawed. But the new creatives were not about to be silenced so easily. They challenged the government’s right to rule, and demanded an election.
‘The events that followed came to be known as the Three Hour War. All of the Axis Lords who refused to accept the new governmental decree were rounded up and imprisoned. Their leader—Angalax, the first poet—was publicly executed. The rest were given a choice—conform or die.
‘None conformed. Of the approximately 10,000 rebels, around 3,000 were killed. The remaining 7,000 were exiled to an island prison called the City of Serenity—a place they would never be able to leave.’
‘And this place is on Earth?’ said Darcy.
‘Yes. The City of Serenity is located on an invisible island in the North Atlantic Ocean, not far from Bermuda. It is shielded from human detection with Axis technology. It has been many thousands of years since the Three Hour War, and the Axis Lords living in the city have developed a large and complex society.’
‘And the Isis Crystal—the thing we have to find—is hidden there…’ murmured Tommy. ‘So how do we get in?’
‘Getting into the City of Serenity will be simple,’ said Mr Slater. ‘Getting out will pose much more of a problem. Like I said, the city was designed to prevent any escape. In nearly 8,000 years, only one person has ever managed to escape—an Axis Lady named Moonstone.’
‘Nice name,’ said Darcy.
‘A nice name, perhaps. But Moonstone is the most evil, the most debased being the Axis race has ever produced.’ Mr Slater turned to Martin. ‘Do you remember the time a few weeks ago when you heard a strange voice coming from