GAME SPACE - Full Novel

by Peter Jay Black

  The drone flew up and over our ship, then dived, heading straight for a piece of debris with two rows of windows that reminded me of a London bus.

  The drone swooped inside, and a spotlight illuminated a hallway with collapsed walls, doors torn off, and the ceiling crushed down. A blue glow appeared in the darkness—a crystal hanging in the void. Using a pincer arm, the drone grabbed the Bluestone and headed back to the ship.

  “Thanks, Kelvin.” Mason leapt from his chair and hurried off to retrieve his magical possession.

  A beeping sound made Eve turn to her display. “Oh no.”

  Thirty-Eight

  I leaned over for a clear look at Eve’s screen, wondering what the hell the alarm was screaming about, but all I could make out was a jumbled mess of squiggly lines with a few flashing boxes.

  “What’s the matter?” My stomach tightened.

  “Kraythons,” she muttered.

  “How many?” Mason hurried back onto the bridge, fixing a Bluestone crystal into his arm near the shoulder.

  “One ship.” Eve zoomed in on the display to reveal a sleek black spacecraft. She swallowed. “Attack class.”

  “Unmanned,” Kelvin added. “Long range.”

  The ship had a glowing engine at the back and a cannon on its nose. From the look of the spacecraft, I got the distinct impression we didn’t want to mess with it.

  Mason refastened his suit, sat at his console, and consulted the display.

  “Have they spotted us?” I asked.

  Mason shook his head. “Not with our new shield. They’ll still be able to see us if they get close enough.”

  “They’ve come to finish us off,” Skylar said.

  I held up a hand. “That makes no sense.”

  The four of them looked at me with quizzical expressions.

  “They could be searching the wreckage for Bluestone artifacts,” I said, trying to remain calm and not jump to conclusions.

  Silence and deflated expressions.

  “What do you think we should do?” Kelvin asked me.

  My gaze moved to the ice planet. “Continue as planned. Go down there, find out what’s blocking our signals and deactivate it.” I couldn’t see any other course of action. “Agreed?”

  Eve, Skylar, and Kelvin nodded. Mason shrugged.

  “I’ll plan a path through the debris.” Eve set to work, passing the data over to Skylar.

  As we headed toward the ice planet, I sat back and wondered how much more of this game there was left to play. If it was sticking to a planned level, that is. I wasn’t sure what I believed. On the one hand the CodeX game seemed to be malfunctioning, but on the other we were still alive, which was something.

  Either way, I would be glad when it was over and I found my grandmother. Alice had a lot of explaining to do.

  For one horrifying moment, I remembered my choices at the beginning of the game—not only with genres, but the whole picking sides thing.

  Did Alice choose to play on the Kraythons’ team?

  Will Admiral Floyd still be able to find my grandmother if she turns out to be a Kraython? And if she is, how can I contact her?

  I pushed those thoughts from my mind; they were no help now. A few minutes later we stopped at the ice planet, Skylar keeping us on the opposite side of the missiles in case they took a liking to us.

  Eve brought up a clearer image of the pyramid, and all of us leaned forward in our chairs.

  “Can we land near it?” Mason said.

  “Not sure it would be safe,” Eve said. “Scans won’t penetrate the ice. The signal blocker is interfering with them.”

  “I doubt it’ll have a liquid ocean beneath.” Kelvin scratched his chin. “There’s no other planet nearby to cause tidal heating of its core, and the solar system is too old for the middle of the planet to remain active enough by itself.” He waved a hand in front of his screen. “I’m certain the signal jammer is down there, though.”

  I got to my feet. “We’ll take Star Chaser to the surface.”

  All four of the others stood up.

  “Hold on.” I raised my hands. “Shouldn’t someone stay behind?”

  “No need,” Skylar said. “I’ll put the Last Horizon in sentry mode, and it’ll go into lockdown. We can’t keep the shields up while we’re away, but if it spots trouble, the ship will use its manoeuvering thrusters to avoid it.”

  “Do you have a key fob for that?” I imagined her pressing a button and getting a blip, blip in confirmation as we left the ship.

  Skylar frowned. “A what?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Come on.” The sooner we got to the planet and switched off the damn signal blocker, the better.

  Kelvin unfastened his scanner device from the display console and clipped it to his arm. “I’ll be able to get a fix on the signal blocker using this. Its strength will increase the closer we get.”

  The five of us marched down the steps and into a hallway. I’d done away with the weird gallery, opting to keep the interior spacious but not too grand and pointless. Now free of cabinets, the corridors were much less claustrophobic.

  At the end of the corridor we stepped into the hangar bay, and I turned to watch Skylar's reaction.

  Her jaw dropped, and she practically salivated. “Is that Star Chaser?”

  I grinned. “Thought the new design would be more in keeping with its name.”

  Ahead, among three other standard shuttles with minimal changes, was a sleek, powerful-looking spacecraft—flat dark grey steel layered with composite materials. It had a strong refracting gravity engine, courtesy of yours truly, and enough space inside to seat all of us with room to spare.

  I motioned to five doors on the right of the hangar bay. “Changing rooms.”

  Inside were sets of lockers and benches.

  While Eve and Skylar left to change into EVA suits, Mason, Kelvin, and I also put on our own spacesuits. Stepping from my changing room, I squirmed as the back of it zipped up, and turned to Mason. “Can I get a phase-band?”

  “No.” Skylar marched past me and over to Star Chaser. The side door lifted, and she stepped on board.

  Mason grinned, and we followed.

  The interior of the new spacecraft had five chairs: two at the back, two further forward, and a final pilot’s seat at the front. Each had its own built-in display, like a miniature version of the Last Horizon’s bridge, and we consulted them as we strapped ourselves in.

  Skylar’s phase-band glowed, and ten seconds later we were airborne, flying from the Last Horizon down toward the ice planet.

  Gazing out of the side window, I searched for any sign of our Kraython visitors but didn’t spot them.

  “Not picking up any other structures on the planet,” Eve said, concentrating on her display. “Still can’t scan beneath the ice.”

  Kelvin consulted his own screen. “Must be the signal blocker.”

  I squirmed in my seat. I didn’t relish going in blind. If the Kraythons had placed the jammer inside the pyramid, I wondered what forms of protection they had in place to stop people tampering with it. Is that why the attack drone arrived?

  I looked over at Kelvin. “Should we abort? If you have any doubts—”

  “No, it’s fine,” he said. “There doesn’t seem to be anything down there that can hurt us.”

  “He’s right,” Eve said. “I’m not detecting any weapons.”

  I faced the front, knowing full well this would not be a simple mission, and gripped the edge of my seat.

  The pyramid loomed ahead, and the knot in my stomach tightened. As we glided in to touch down on the ice field, the building stood fifty feet tall, its bright white casing stones blinding in the light from the nearby sun.

  Eve did one final scan and shook her head.

  I’m not sure about this.

  The confidence I’d felt playing captain on board the Last Horizon evaporated.

  The others pressed their collars, and their helmets sprung up. With a deepening sense of
impending doom, I did the same, glancing at my health meter.

  Skylar opened Star Chaser, and we climbed out. Ice crunched beneath the soles of my boots, and I stood there for a moment, taking in the vista.

  The landscape was remarkably flat, as though the planet were a giant white ball, and the uninterrupted curve of the horizon stretched across our field of view.

  Gravity seemed heavier than I was used to—maybe twenty percent more than Earth’s—and each step took longer than usual as we made our way to the pyramid.

  “How long before the Leviathan gets here?” I asked.

  “An hour and fifteen minutes,” Eve replied.

  We stopped at a stone door eight feet tall and three wide. It had no markings, handle, or lock of any kind. Eve swept her phase-band back and forth and pointed to the right side.

  “This is on me.” Mason stepped forward and gripped the edge of the door. The Bluestone in his shoulder glowed under his suit and coat, sending swirls of energy along his arms. He braced himself and heaved the door open.

  We stared at a flight of stone steps leading down into darkness. I swallowed, not liking the look of it one bit.

  Mason went first, with me close behind and the others following, and we descended in silence for what felt like a hundred feet before stepping onto a walkway overlooking a vast brightly lit area. The entire ceiling glowed, and a fog hung ten feet below the catwalk, stretching into the distance on all sides. It was impossible to make out what was beneath the mist, which did nothing to calm my nerves.

  “It’s down here somewhere,” Kelvin said, gesturing at the holographic readout above the scanner on his arm. “The signal blocker’s here. We’re getting closer.”

  “Look.” Skylar pointed at an object mounted next to the catwalk, perhaps thirty feet away.

  It was silver and oval with a domed glass roof and a door on the side, held aloft by heavy brackets.

  “Is that a boat?” Eve asked.

  Mason slapped Kelvin on the back. “So much for your idea that there was no liquid ocean beneath the surface.”

  We walked over to the boat. Skylar opened the door and clambered in.

  “Be careful.” The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. A quick check on the game map showed our golden dots on the walkway, with a pale blue, empty expanse on either side.

  Skylar indicated a control stick with buttons and looked out of the window. “There must be a lake under the fog.”

  Mason climbed in, then Kelvin followed, and the two of them sat behind Skylar.

  I hesitated, squinting into the thick layer of mist to try to make out the water beneath.

  Eve tapped my arm and motioned with her phase-band. “Still not picking up anything.” She sighed. “We don’t seem to have a choice.”

  “Story of my life,” I muttered as we climbed into the boat too.

  Skylar reached up to a mechanism in the ceiling, one I guessed was about to release us from the holding brackets. “Ready?”

  “No.” My stomach tightened so much it hurt.

  Skylar pulled the catch. The boat dropped into the fog . . . and kept dropping.

  Thirty-Nine

  Instead of hitting water, the boat carried on falling, and as we plummeted, details formed on the game map.

  The layer of fog wasn’t fog at all, but a blanket of cloud. A second later it cleared, revealing the ground thousands of feet below. We were heading toward it in a spinning nosedive.

  I gripped the edges of my seat harder than ever.

  “Get control of it,” Mason shouted.

  “I’m trying.” Skylar screwed up her face and yanked back on the stick. “It’s not working.” She pressed buttons but nothing happened, and the screen next to her remained dark.

  “CodeX?” I said. “Any help right now?”

  Nothing.

  We were going to die.

  As we spiralled, I caught glimpses of fields, an ocean, and even buildings in the distance, but everything was jumbled, with large chunks of land above an ocean, as if the game hadn’t rendered the world correctly.

  Are we in one giant glitch?

  Skylar attempted to wrestle with the control stick, but the ship didn’t respond.

  I searched for seatbelts or harnesses, but there weren’t any. Of course not. I also looked for some means of emergency escape—parachutes—anything.

  * * *

  How had we been so stupid?

  Seriously, we had blindly climbed into something we’d assumed was a boat without checking?

  So dumb.

  With detached hopelessness, I stared at my health meter. It was at ninety-two percent, which was fantastic, but there was no way I’d survive the impending crash.

  Game over.

  Sorry, Grandpa. I tried.

  “Why isn’t it working?” Skylar screamed.

  Kelvin scrambled over to her, rested his hand on the screen, and closed his eyes. The crystals in his artifact glowed, sending pulses of energy across his fingers and into the ship.

  The display flickered to life.

  “Well?” I looked out of the front window as the earth grew larger.

  We only had around ten seconds left.

  A building shot past us, going upward. What the hell?

  “I’m connected,” Kelvin said, “but the programming language is gibberish.”

  I rushed over too, and to my surprise, the CodeX translated the symbols on the screen. “Flight controls are still off.” I searched for a way to switch them on as Kelvin scrolled down the display.

  “Hurry up,” Skylar shouted.

  Five seconds.

  “Do something,” Eve gripped her seat. “Do anything.”

  “There.” I pointed at the code to activate the engine.

  Three seconds.

  I gritted my teeth.

  Kelvin highlighted the command.

  Two.

  The earth came rushing up to meet us, and Kelvin screamed, “Now.”

  Skylar roared as she pulled back on the control stick.

  The front of the ship swung upward, but not fast enough. We hit the ground hard, banking earth as we slid along, the impact throwing us around the cabin.

  I slammed into the side window, almost breaking my nose, and fell to the floor in a heap.

  My health meter dropped to forty percent.

  Ouch.

  Groaning, pain shooting up my wrists, I looked about. “Everyone alive?”

  I received four battered and bruised nods in reply.

  “Stupid thing.” Skylar kicked open the door and scrambled out, swearing.

  I gestured for Eve to go next, then Mason and Kelvin. I climbed from the ship last, glad we’d made it in one piece and cursing the game along with Skylar.

  We sat on the ground outside for a minute, trying to gather our senses.

  I gazed up at the sky and the layer of cloud, wondering how the hell we would get back up there. A swirling green, blue, and purple energy reminded me of the Northern Lights on Earth.

  Then my gaze returned to our immediate surroundings. We were in a field of corn-like crops, with tall stems and orange seeds. A farmhouse with round windows and a thatched roof stood on a rise in the distance, only . . .

  I gaped at it.

  The house wasn’t on a hill at all, but a giant, floating boulder, and we were hovering on our own flat-topped platform of rock, high above an ocean.

  I peered into the distance, gaping at the hundreds of floating houses, barns, fields, and ranches, all on their own clumps of rock. Underneath each, a complicated array of clear tubes funnelled magical smoke from giant animal-skin bags to a series of enormous propellers.

  Skyscrapers glided past one another, their own propellers and magic holding them aloft.

  A rumbling, clattering sound made me turn in the opposite direction. A vehicle turned the corner and cut across the field toward us.

  It was dark red, reminding me of an American pickup truck from the nineteen-fifties, with wide, rou
nded wheel arches. The wheels themselves were solid balls, made from white stone. A glass cylinder filled with the same blue, purple, and green smoke, perhaps two feet in diameter and three feet tall, sat in the bed of the truck. Is it Bluestone? I couldn’t see any glowing crystals. Tubes ran from the side of the cylinder, disappearing into the truck’s bodywork, feeding the tyres.

  The five of us got shakily to our feet as the truck slid to a halt. The doors on both sides opened upward, and the occupants leapt out.

  “Ancampi,” I murmured.

  “What?” Mason said. “I thought they were wiped out in the Battle of Puissance?”

  “Apparently not,” Eve said, looking shocked.

  The Ancampi were shorter than I’d imagined, the taller of the two only a smidge over five feet, and their hair was filled with beads and dreadlocks. The second Ancampi was clearly a child, but they both wore baggy trousers made out of animal hide, shirts with high collars, and brown leather jackets, a far cry from their traditional tribal dress, but still primitive in look.

  I frowned.

  These guys were definitely Ancampi, with their dark skin, oversized eyes, high-placed ears, and protruding jaws. There was no mistaking them, and I was happy their race had survived the Battle of Puissance after all, but what the hell had happened to them?

  I looked up at the sky again.

  The smoke had to be Bluestone magic, which the Ancampi had somehow bottled and used to their advantage. But what about the missiles? Did they create those too? Nothing here seems so high tech.

  I refocused as Father Ancampi pointed a gun at us. The weapon had another small jar mounted to the top of it, filled with the same Bluestone smoke.

  The five of us held up our hands.

  “Jangia haroom,” he said.

  The others’ expressions were as blank as mine.

  “Jangia haroom,” the farmer repeated, waving the gun back and forth.

  “Wentao neach tu kerin.” The youngster pointed at our dented craft.

  “Well?” Skylar hissed through the corner of her mouth to me. “What are they saying?”