Star Cat: Infinity Claws: A Science Fiction & Fantasy Adventure (The Star Cat Series - Book 1) (2nd Edition)

by Andrew Mackay

  Tripp sat with Emily, going through the final particulars of the contract. He flipped over to the last summary sheet.

  "Just need your signature in triplet. Here, here, and here," Tripp pointed at the three sets of dotted lines.

  "Okay," Emily hesitated for a second and looked at her son as he tickled Jelly’s stomach.

  "Meow."

  "Are you quite sure she’s going to be all right?" Emily asked Tripp. She wondered why the two stern-looking men were at the other end of the table and disassociating themselves so blatantly.

  "Yes, of course," Tripp said, watching her sign the documents. "I will make sure of that, personally. You have my word."

  "I hope so."

  "You know, Emily," Tripp tried to reassure her. "I have a son your boy’s age. I know how much Jelly means to him."

  Emily scribbled her signature as quick as she could and pushed the paper away from her chest.

  "A very antiquated way of conducting business. Pen and paper?" She passed the pen back to him and watched the ink dry on the paper.

  "It’s the way we like to do things. Some of us at USARIC haven’t quite shaken off the analog stuff just yet."

  Maar broke away from his conversation with Dimitri. "All good?"

  "Yes, I think so," Tripp lifted the papers in his hand and showed them to his superiors.

  "Good," Dimitri said. "So, I think we’re all done here."

  "It seems so," Tripp added.

  "Are there any final questions or queries you have for us?" Maar asked.

  "You can’t tell me what the mission is? Where, exactly, she’s going?"

  "I’m afraid not," Maar said. "If anything goes wrong it would be bad news.”

  “What if something does go wrong?”

  “It won’t.”

  “Right,” Emily said, not terribly convinced.

  “But if it does, it’s better that you don’t know the details. Trust us, everything will be fine."

  Jamie stroked Jelly’s face. She loved every second of it. He looked up and tried his luck. "When does Opera Beta leave?"

  "Two weeks from now, young man," Maar said. "She’s due to return in at the end of 2120. How old will you be then?"

  "Eight."

  The door to the conference room opened and Wool walked in with a silver plastic cage under her arm. "Hello, everyone. Hi, Jamie."

  "Hi, Wool."

  She offered the boy a smile and sat the cage onto the conference desk. "Is she ready?"

  Jelly rolled over and stretched her hind legs out. Her tail flapped around. Jamie took a moment to watch her in action. A small, quiet movement he decided to commit to memory before she jumped to her feet and demanded one, last hug.

  "Meow."

  Jamie held out his hand and pressed his fingers together. Jelly ran her face along his hand, making a fuss of the connection. He held her head in both hands and looked her in the eyes. She had no clue what was about to happen.

  "We’ll see each other again, girl," Jamie whispered. The reality set in the moment the words escaped his lips. He began to tear up. Jelly wanted to know why he was so sad.

  "Take her," he said through his tears.

  Jelly tilted her face, wondering why her friend was so upset. The drama set Emily off, too. "Oh God, please. Just do it."

  "Yes, of course," Wool clapped her hands together and showed Jelly to the cage. "In you go, honey."

  "Meow," Jelly looked at it and decided not to go. She approached the end of the table and tried to get Jamie’s attention.

  "No, no," Wool cupped Jelly’s face in her hand with deft expertise. She slid the cage up to her behind and pushed her back.

  The cage door slammed shut, imprisoning Jelly. She clawed at the cage, trying to push it open.

  Wool lifted the cage and made her way to the conference room door.

  Jamie took a final glance at his cat being escorted out of his life. She had a look of disappointment on her face. How could my best friend do this to me? The look seemed to say it. It was hard for Jamie to shake off.

  Then, he slammed the conference desk and stood up, barely able to peer over it. Tripp, Maar, Dimitri, and his mother turned to him in shock.

  "Take me with you," Jamie pleaded.

  "What?" Tripp asked.

  “Take me with you. I know how space works and I can help you on your mission.”

  “But, Jamie, it doesn’t work like that.”

  “Poppet, no,” Emily held her son back. The same couldn’t be said for his floods of tears. “Jamie, listen—”

  “—Mr. Healy, you’re an astronaut. I’m going to be an astronaut one day, too. Let me go with you.”

  “Jamie,” Tripp tried, calmly, “It takes years of training. And we can’t allow children on—”

  “—But you’re taking a cat,’ Jamie interrupted and pointed at the cage. “You can take a cat but you can’t take me?”

  “Poppet, please.”

  Tripp held out his hands. He felt useless. “I, uh, don’t know what to say?”

  “Then say yes.” Jamie released himself from his mother’s clutches and clambered toward the cage in Wool’s hand. "I want to go with her."

  Emily caught his jacket and pulled him back. "No. It’s done."

  Tripp felt sorry for the poor little boy. “I’m sorry, Jamie.’

  "We should get going," Wool turned to do the door, trying to avoid the unfolding grief in the room. "Goodbye, Jamie."

  "But, mom," Jamie struggled to free himself, choking with regret through his vocal chords. "I d-don’t want her to g-go—"

  "—Jamie, no. It’s done," Emily whispered.

  The door shut on Jelly’s face.

  His cat was gone forever, as far as Jamie was concerned.

  Little consolation for the boy who broke down on the table in a heap of turmoil, crying his eyes out.

  A day he’d never forget.

  A decision he’d never forgive himself for making.

  He’d allowed his friend go off into the great unknown. If only he could take it all back.

  The USARIC logo spun around above his head, triumphantly. The company had won.

  A five-year-old’s loss wasn’t enough to stop the company’s endeavor…

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  USARIC Data Point

  Space Opera Beta

  Year: 2119

  Days traveled: 551

  Distance to Enceladus: 203,140 miles

  The hyper sleep arena contained nine chambers, the first and sixth of which had been opened.

  Tripp Healy lay asleep in the second pod. He’d grown an impressive amount of facial hair during the journey.

  Captain Daryl Katz surveyed the chamber, enjoying what was about to be the last moment of pure solitude.

  "Manuel?" Katz asked.

  "Yes, Daryl?"

  "We’ll start with chamber two and Tripp Healy. Once he’s oriented we’ll move on to the others. Can you prepare the debrief in the meantime, please."

  "Certainly, Daryl," Manuel said, "Do you wish to notify Tripp about what we’ve found?"

  "Not yet. I’ll update him myself when he’s oriented."

  "Understood. Releasing chamber two, now."

  Katz approached Tripp’s chamber and pressed his palm to the wall. "Okay, Tripp..."

  The Perspex on the second chamber unbolted and lifted down. Tripp remained asleep for a few moments. His eyelids fluttered against the vibrations of his unit.

  "Tripp?" Katz asked, softly. "Wakey-wakey."

  He opened his eyes very slowly, adjusting his retinas to the light shining down on him.

  He reached up and wiped his mouth.

  "Ugh," Tripp inspected the thin layer of black film that had wiped off on his finger. "Are we here?"

  "Yes," Katz said, making his way to the computer console. "Be careful with your first few steps. I’ll fix you a drink."

  "Thanks."

  Tripp stepped out of the chamber and temporarily lost his balance. He looked down th
e length of his body, analyzing his underwear and paper footwear.

  "My legs feel like concrete logs."

  "You’re acting like you’ve never been in space before."

  "I know, I know," Tripp pushed himself away from the wall and ground his right heel into the ground. "I’ve been asleep for over a year. Somehow, it doesn’t feel that long."

  Tripp looked at the remaining chambers that housed the rest of the crew. He clocked the opened sixth chamber. "Haloo is awake, as well?"

  "Yes. You, me, her, and Manuel," Katz offered Tripp a cup of coffee and a small, white pill, "Get some caffeine in you, and take this."

  "Thanks," Tripp tossed the pill in his mouth and knocked it back with a swig of coffee.

  Katz eyed him, trying to see if his colleague managed to retain his faculties after a year of deep sleep.

  "All good?"

  "Yeah, I’m fine," Tripp rolled his shoulders and tilted his neck. "So, what’s the news? When did you wake up?"

  "This time yesterday," Katz moved to the console and hit a button. A spectral image of Space Opera Alpha hovered over the desk and spun on its axis. "Look at this."

  "Opera Alpha?"

  "Yes."

  "Why are you showing me Alpha?"

  Katz looked at Tripp and performed a last-minute check to see if anyone was eavesdropping. "Manuel discovered it en route to Enceladus about two months ago. Alpha never disappeared."

  "What? Where is it now?"

  "It’s orbiting the dark side of Enceladus, about two hundred thousand miles away.

  "That’s ridiculous," Tripp shook his head, thinking he was still dreaming. "That moon doesn’t have enough pull for orbit."

  "It’s not gravitational, Tripp," Katz pointed at the thrusters on the back of the holoprint. "The vessel is active, still running. Traveling alongside it. Our star drones never picked it up. It’s been sheltered in darkness."

  "Have we tried making contact with Opera Alpha?"

  "Yes."

  "And?"

  "Nothing. It’s not responding," Katz enlarged the image and kept his voice quiet. "It’s been missing for four years, all communication lost. Until now."

  "Do the others know?"

  "Of course they don’t, they’re all asleep."

  "No, I don’t mean them," Tripp waved his hand at the hyper sleep chambers. "I mean back home. Does USARIC know?"

  "Not yet. I’ve waited to inform you before proceeding. I’ve talked it over with Manuel."

  "What did he suggest?"

  "That we wake everyone up and inform them, then report to USARIC with a unanimous decision to divert our course."

  Tripp found the revelation compelling. "What are we going to tell them?"

  "The truth, of course."

  Botanix

  Tripp pressed the creases out from his inner0suit as he walked along the concourse. He reached the single door and pressed his palm against the panel on the wall.

  "Level Three. Botanix," a female voice announced. "Please ensure all incendiaries are secure."

  "The door beeped and slid open, allowing Tripp into the area.

  Six rows of plants covered in silver foil lined the room. Tripp glanced at the newly-installed fresh water filter in the middle of the room.

  "Haloo? Are you here?"

  "Tripp?" She poked her head out from around the fountain and lifted the watering hose. "You’re awake?"

  "Yes, came out about an hour ago."

  Tripp walked along the plant life and took the opportunity to get a lungful of the freshest air aboard the vessel. "Remind me to spend more time in here when I’m resting."

  Haloo returned to watering a row of flowers by her feet. "Have you come to recuperate, or do you need something?"

  "Just saying hello before everyone else wakes up."

  Haloo didn’t seem impressed. "Why do I get the feeling that you’re here to ask a favor?"

  Tripp watched Haloo hose down the soil, wondering how on Earth - or space - she knew his real intentions.

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Your posture," she said. "The way you entered the room."

  "That’s creepy."

  "Also, you gave me an answer to a question I never asked."

  "You asked if I was awake?"

  Haloo spun the dial on the hose, shutting off the water. She arched her back and smiled at him. "I didn’t ask anything. I made an observation."

  Tripp chuckled. "Are you always like this?"

  "You want me to soak you?" Haloo lifted the nozzle in Tripp’s direction.

  "No."

  "Explain this for me," Haloo retrieved a black capsule from her inner thigh pocket. "Is this what I think it is?"

  "Yes. Standard issue for all galactic exploration."

  "I don’t like it. We’re not in the KGB. We can’t be expected to commit suicide if it all goes wrong.

  "You may find you’d reassess that decision if you found yourself in serious trouble. It’s just an insurance policy. Everyone has one."

  A spurious silence fell between the two. She slipped the black capsule back into her pocket with displeasure. "Anything else?"

  "We’ve found Opera Alpha."

  "Katz has told you, then?" Haloo and Tripp stared at each other for two seconds longer than comfort allowed. She finally looked away and rolled up the hose. "Of course I knew. What do you think Katz and I have been doing while you guys have been asleep?"

  "Do we know if Botanix on Alpha is operational?"

  "We don’t know anything, yet."

  "Because if it is, there’s a good chance Zillah and her crew might still be alive."

  Haloo stopped and turned around, upset. "Don’t you think we already thought of that?"

  "You’re right. I’m sorry."

  She made her way to the door, "We need to investigate Alpha. Make sure that they’re actually dead…"

  The Crew Hub

  Six Hours Later…

  The hub served as the crew meeting point in the nucleus of Space Opera Beta.

  The screen on the wall provided a beautiful view of space and Saturn revolving some hundreds of thousands of miles in the distance.

  It had taken the best part of the day to ensure everyone disembarked their hyper-sleep pods successfully.

  Captain Katz stood by the window and caught everyone’s attention. "Beta team, I think we’re ready. We’re just waiting for Wool."

  Haloo and Tripp sat next to each other at the conference table.

  Opposite them, Tor Klyce and Baldron Landaker downed their fifth cup of coffee.

  Jaycee, decked out in his armor exo-suit, sat with Bonnie at the foot of the table.

  The door to the hub slid opened.

  Wool ar-Ban walked in and rubbed her hands together. "Sorry I’m late, Daryl."

  "Wool, during debrief I am Captain, if you please."

  "I’m sorry," Wool took her seat next in between Jaycee and Bonnie.

  "It’s nothing personal. It’s more for the minute-taking and data points."

  "Yes, Captain."

  "Okay," Katz snapped his fingers, beckoning Manuel over. "Manuel?"

  "Yes, Captain," the holographic book flew over and flipped through its pages. A blank sheet appeared, followed by a hovering transparent pen. "Ready when you are."

  "Don’t minute this part, Manuel." Katz approached the conference table and pressed his finger on the glass surface. A diagram of Space Opera Alpha appeared in front of the crew.

  Manuel’s pen clicked off. The pages flipped shut as he sidled over to the captain.

  "Until twenty-four hours ago, we thought Saturn Cry was transmitting from Enceladus. It wasn’t."

  "No?" Tor took a keen interest in the revelation. "So where is it coming from?"

  "Here." Katz pointed at the radio transmitter on the bridge of Space Opera Alpha. "It seems like Enceladus is using Opera Alpha as a beacon to send the message."

  "Alpha is present?" Bonnie asked.

  "Yes, Dr Whitaker. She�
��s orbiting the dark side of Enceladus."

  "Do we know if the crew are alive?" Baldron asked.

  "We don’t know anything, yet. We’ve tried to communicate with Alpha’s Manuel, but to no avail."

  "What are you suggesting, Captain?" Tripp asked, knowing the answer already.

  "I am recommending a change of course. We dock with them, establish contact and rescue any souls on board."

  "What if no-one survived?" Haloo asked.

  "Then there’s nobody to rescue. We continue our trajectory to Enceladus and conduct our inquiries."

  Tripp stood up and pointed at the holograph of the ship. "It makes sense to investigate. Enceladus itself can’t possibly be sending the signal. It’s just gas and ice. It’s using Opera Alpha’s comms to transmit the signal, that much we do know."

  "Hold on a second," Bonnie stood up, giving as good as the crew were getting. "Alpha goes off-radar for five years. Missing."

  "Yes."

  "And now it’s suddenly reappeared?"

  "Well, I’m not sure if—"

  "—And you want us to go and check it out?"

  Tripp interrupted the feisty woman. "Let’s review our situation, Dr. Whitaker. Our mission to Enceladus is to investigate the source of Saturn Cry."

  "Right."

  "And we know it’s using Alpha to transmit that signal. I mean, that’s just plain fact, now."

  "How do we know?"

  Tripp pressed his finger to the glass. "Manuel?"

  The book floated over to the screen and opened up. "Yes, Commander?"

  "Configure point A on Opera Alpha radar and broadcast, please."

  "Configuring now."

  Manuel beeped three times and tuned himself into the holograph on the screen. The radio transmitter flashed red, and threw its connection to the speaker on the book.

  A hissing noise fired up, followed by three strings of an electric guitar.

  "Ugh, we’re fed up with hearing this thing, already," Tor shook his head and nudged Baldron in the ribs. "We’d rather go back to sleep."

  "Don’t be funny, Tor," Tripp said, encouraging the crew to listen to the message play out.

  Whump-whump-whump… hiss…

  "Sounds different?"

  "Twelve seconds in," Tripp held up his hand to halt the chatter, "Shh."

  A warbled thud followed by a high-pitch squeal, like that of an injured lion, streaked across the audio.