Chapter Three: Planet Killer
“What have you done?” asked Jack, eyes fixed on the tombstone-like clouds.
“What I had to,” said the lava man. “If we can’t live on this planet then no one will.”
“But… it’s murder, genocide.”
“You humans with your quaint, little words. On Earth thousands of animals are gassed every week just to ensure that you have the right brand of shampoo, the right dye for your hair, and here you are moralizing about what’s right and wrong. They had an option, they chose to resist, and now they must accept the consequences.”
Jack was barely listening. He looked at a now unconscious Vyleria, then at the sun-bright horizon. The ground trembled again. Mock-lightning flashed in the distance. How many people had they killed? Millions? Tens of millions? More?
“What are you doing?” asked the lava man. “Your spaceship…”
Jack turned around to see their spaceship rise-up into the air, its nose glowing faintly blue, before a huge beam of red light shot out, spearing the planet like a hunter would a whale.
The ground shuddered, shook, then cracked open like a walnut as the red spear pierced first the crust, then the mantle, then the core, as a torrent of super-hot magma gushed out, sputtering over the planet.
“You played the game well child of the alliance,” said the lava man. “That’s the last time I’ll underestimate you.”
“But I never…”
“Until next time,” he said, before disappearing in a wisp of smoke and ash.
Jack bent down and felt Vyleria’s shoulder. She was still alive. Barely. He gathered her in his arms as the ground before him splintered away into nothing, the white-hot glow of the magma rising, rising, rising.
Chapter Four: Armageddon
The face-burning glow of the lava disappeared, replaced by the cream white walls and flashing panels of the control room.
Jack put Vyleria down in a holographic med-bay, then turned to watch the viewscreen. Suddenly what remained of the planet exploded before his eyes, showering space with an assortment of magma and rock.
“What did you do that for?” he asked, looking at the person in the pilot’s control. “I had the situation under control. Do you know how many people you’ve killed?”
“Jack, it wasn’t me, I swear.”
Jack spun around to face Padget. He was standing towards the back, near the exit to the corridor. “But then who’s flying this thing?” he asked.
“I am,” said Jorge, stepping out of the pilot’s control as it rapidly folded up behind him.
“YOU!” he shouted, grabbing him by the collar.
“Put him down, Jack!”
Jack turned around to see the last of Vyleria’s face unmelting before his eyes, the med bay’s lasers zipping all over her scalp like fireworks on New Year’s Eve. “But Vyleria, do you realise how many people were still down there? How many could have escaped? He killed them. He killed them all.”
“No, he didn’t,” said Vyleria, the last of her eyes regaining its red pigment.
“What do you mean?” he said. “Of course he did.”
“I beamed the last few thousand up here before I fired the planet-killer.,” said Jorge, his face as smug as ever. “I put them in one of the disused storage bays a few levels down. I’ve programmed the ship to drop them off at the rendezvous planet with the rest of their people within the hour. I’m not a mass murder, Jack. That’s your territory. How many dreadnuts did you kill down there?”
“That’s not the point. They weren’t alive.”
“That’s convenient,” he said, eyes as bright as gold nuggets, skin as brown as a surfer’s. Jack wanted to puke.
“Listen I…”
“That’s enough!” said Vyleria. “There’s no point arguing over burnt-up meteorites. What’s done is done.”
“That’s right take his side again like always,” said Jack.
“What do you mean?” asked Vyleria, cheeks like ripened plums.
“You know exactly what I mean,” said Jack, fixing her with the best stare he could manage.
“Look, this is getting us nowhere,” said Grunt, voice rumbling around the control room.
“You’re right,” said Jack. “We should go back to Earth and look for Ros. All the Scourge does is beat us anyway. That’s five planets in a row we’ve lost now. I don’t know about you but I’m getting sick of losing and seeing the people I’m trying to help die.”
“I’m with Jack,” said Padget.
“Me too,” said Kat, looking at Padget.
“We did, remember?” said Vyleria, staring coldly at them all, cheeks now like a bunch of grapes. “But Ros was nowhere near Earth. His warning must have been a false alarm.”
“I don’t think so,” said Jack. “He sounded like it was urgent.”
“Well we don’t know any different, do we?” said Vyleria.
“But we could try to find out,” said Jack.
“And how do you suggest we do that?”
“Erm…”
“My point exactly. Come on Jorge, let’s get out of here. I’m getting tired of all this pointless bickering.”
“Vyleria…”
Jack watched as Vyleria and Jorge sauntered off down the corridor together. They were laughing, joking. His heart burned with jealousy, pride. What was going on? What had happened to their relationship? Was Vyleria with Jorge now? He felt sick to his stomach.
“Don’t worry about her,” said Padget.
“I’m sorry I can’t help it,” said Jack. “I care so much for her. Or at least I used to, now I’m not so sure. Now I’m not so sure of anything.”
“Come on let’s play a game of footie.”
“What? You play football now?” asked Jack. “Without your buddy-bots?”
“I can try. How hard can it be?”
“Fancy a game Kat? What about you Grunt?”
“No thanks,” said Grunt. Did he seem a little angry too? “There’s a giant Anaconda with my name on it somewhere.”
“What do you mean somewhere?” asked Kat.
“Food’s no fun if you don’t catch it yourself,” said Grunt.
“But what if it catches you first?” asked Kat.
“That’s the fun part,” he said, grinning.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” said Jack. “He’ll catch it in no time. He’s an expert at bug hunts, aren’t you Grunt?”
“Suppose so.”
“Grunt, is everything okay?” asked Jack. “You sound a little annoyed.”
“That’s what he always sounds like,” said Padget.
“Just forget about it,” rumbled Grunt.
“No go on tell me.”
“It can wait,” said Grunt. He sounded like distant thunder. “Go off and have your fun. I’ll see you after your football match.”
“Not if the Anaconda doesn’t get you first,” said Jack, trying his best to smile.
“Doubt it.” More thunder. Something was wrong…
“Grunt…”
“Look, I’ll speak to you later,” rumbled Grunt, before he stormed off down the corridor.
“What’s up with him?” asked Jack.
“I don’t know, who cares?” said Padget. “Let’s go and play some footie!”
“Come on then,” said Jack following Grunt’s gigantic shadow as it loped down the corridor. I haven’t played football in ages.”
Jack, Padget and Kat walked out onto the football pitch near his house on a bright sunny day. There was not a single cloud in the sky, the trees’ leaves ruffled by a light breeze. Huddledown hill arched high above them like a big green giant, its slopes filled with the white dots of sheep and the odd horse. Gaz Finch and his mates were absent too. A brief image of his beaten, bloody face flickered before Jack, but he pushed it away. It was time to enjoy himself.
“Now what do we do?” asked Padget.
“Now we play football,” smirked Jack.
“Where are your bu
ddy bots when you need them?” asked Padget after watching Jack score his eighth volley in a row.
“But that would be too easy,” said Jack. “I wouldn’t stand a chance then. Besides, you said that you were going to give them up, remember?”
“I know, but I didn’t think life would be so hard. I mean I have to do everything myself now.”
“That’s what life is like,” said Jack. “At least you’re losing weight though.”
“I… I am?”
“Sure, can’t you tell?”
“Well I am on a little diet. I only eat six meals a day now.”
“SIX? I’m lucky if I get three!”
“Food’s serious business, Jack. You’ve got to make time for it. We can’t all be captain of the ship and navigating vast asteroid swarms, you know.”
“I guess not,” said Jack. “Anyway, stop dawdling. Let’s get another ten minutes in. I haven’t played football in ages. If I score another volley, it’s a record.”
Jack ran down the whole length of the pitch, dodging past one dummy-bot then another. The goal loomed large before him; Padget tensed and spread his arms wide. He nutmegged the last dummy-bot, then span round in a Cruyff turn. He arced his leg back and booted the ball. It flew through the air like a lightning bolt, soaring, soaring, soaring. Just as it was about to make the net bulge a figure appeared out of nowhere and at the last possible moment nodded it into the goal.
“Goal!” Kat shouted, doing a cartwheel over the penalty area. “Goal!”
She’d beaten him. He couldn’t believe it. Eleven goals to ten.
“Well done!” he said, congratulating her. “If you carry on like this you’ll be able to play for Liverpool.”
“Who are they?”
“The best team in England. If we ever make it back to Earth, we could go and watch a game.”
“Can Padget come?”
“Padget?”
“Oh,” he said looking first at Kat and then at a fidgeting Padget. “Sure. Yeah. Of course. No worries.”
Jack was just about to suggest a replay when a giant holo-image of Grunt appeared above the goal line. His orange eyes looked like binary stars. “Grunt, what is it?”
“They’re gone,” he said.
“Who are? What are you talking about?”
“The survivors from Xalthia. The Scourge have just attacked the rendezvous planet. I was going to take the ship back to stop them, but it was over in moments. They didn’t stand a chance. They are all dreadnuts now. What should we do? Should we go on to the next planet?”
“What did Vyleria say?”
“Nothing… She won’t answer my calls. She’s…”
“I know who she’s with,” he said, gritting his teeth. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll… I’ll go and talk to her. Alone…”
“But Jack…”
“Don’t worry about it, Grunt. I can handle it.”
“Fine, do that then,” said Grunt. More thunder. More lightning. What was wrong with him?
“Look, I’ll be back shortly,” he said, turning round to face Kat and Padget. “We need to have to have a meeting about this. We can’t afford to drift. We’re losing this war badly enough as it is. We either fight together or die alone.”
Jack stepped out into the corridor, the football pitch fading away behind him, and went off to find Vyleria and Jorge.
Why does everything come down to me these days? Why do I feel more and more like the captain of a mutinous ship?
Chapter Five: Space Wings
Jack looked down at the white swirls of clouds as they drifted over an emerald sea. He took one last look at the ragged, grey moon behind him and then switched off his rocket boots.
He plummeted like a stone, his speed getting faster and faster as he punctured the planet’s magnetosphere, and then the first few wisps of clouds.
A terrific gust of wind hit him and started to slow him down.
More wind. More falling. He was like a bullet or a missile or both.
He punched through a fluffy, white mass of cloud, moisture clinging to his face. The lime-green tips of the waves came into view.
He was about to hit the ocean at what felt like a million miles per hour when he hit a button on his holo-watch. A blur of silver spread out from his arms, until it was about twelve feet in length. As soon as the wind hit the ultra-light titanium foil, he was thrust upwards, pushed back amongst the mass of white, fleecy clouds.
He looked like Icarus in his space wings as he whooshed upwards towards the glistening sun, before spinning back round towards the glittering ocean at a hundred miles per hour, skimming the tops of the white, frothy waves.
He zoomed along, dodging successive swarms of silver fish, for about half a minute until he reared upwards, skimming a huge column of rock that rose above the ocean to a height of about five hundred feet.
After a swift double somersault, he pirouetted onto the rock, folded up his space wings, then checked the other columns for a sign of Vyleria.
He didn’t have to look for long. She was on the tallest of the sea-spires, a little over a hundred miles away; Jorge was with her. He wondered what she saw in him, then batted the thought away. It didn’t matter now, none of it did.
Activating his space wings again, Jack leapt from the top of the sea-spire, scattering a flock of black sea hawks, before he rose upwards, soaring effortlessly across the ocean towards Vyleria. Space had never felt so good…
“You’ve turned up I see,” said Vyleria. Her tone was harsh, cold, mean.
“What do you want?” asked Jorge, barging between Jack and Vyleria. “You’ve said enough already.”
“Did you not hear the news from Grunt about the dreadnuts?” asked Jack, brushing past Jorge. “About the attack.”
“Yes… I did,” said Vyleria, rocking back and forth on the salt-covered ledge. “But…”
“But what?” asked Jack.
“I ignored it.”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this, not from you. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with me,” she said glaring at him. “I just need…”
“What?”
“It’s nothing, what do you care anyway?”
“Vyleria, what are you talking about? I’d do absolutely anything for you, I…”
“Don’t listen to him Vyleria, he’s just jealous, he’s just trying to manipulate you. You know what he’s like…”
“Yes… I… I… do,” said Vyleria, raising her hands to her temple.
“What? I’d never do that to you…”
“That’s enough!” shouted Vyleria, her eyes hard, aflame. “I wish you’d stop begging like that. It makes you look weak... pathetic.”
“Is that what you think? If you ask me I’m the only one who’s got any resolve around here. Vyleria, the Scourge are on the march. We’ve got to do something. Quickly.”
“Such as what?” asked Jorge. “We’ve lost every engagement so far.”
“I KNOW!” shouted Jack, “I fought in the last battle, remember? With her. Where were you hiding anyway? You are always scuttling-off into the shadows on some imagined errand.”
“See what I mean, Vyleria?” said Jorge, his golden palm brushing against her left cheek. “He still doesn’t trust me; he never will.”
“Can you blame me? You just popped-up out of nowhere. Where did you come from? Where are the rest of your people?”
“They’re dead! Remember? They’re all dreadnuts now. We’ve already gone over all this.”
“So you say. Vyleria, please don’t tell me you still buy this nonsense. He’s up to something, I know it.”
“Why can’t you be quiet!” shouted Vyleria, shoving Jack hard in the chest.
He tried to regain his balance, but it was too late. The next thing he knew he was plummeting through the air, the ravenous white teeth of the waves getting closer and closer and closer.
Chapter Six: Spaceketball
Jack pulled-up from the surf just as a gi
ant luminous blob tried to snag him with its glittering tentacles.
He could hear Vyleria shouting something behind him, but he didn’t care. He was past that now. They both were. So much for Jack the romantic. With a furious blast of his rocket boots he cleared the waves and left the emerald sea behind him, spearing a swirling mass of darkening clouds, thunder and lightning ricocheting all around him.
He flew faster than ever, the rage within him burning hotter than a volcano. Why had she done that? She knew what Gaz Finch used to do to him back on Earth and yet she’d attacked him all the same. She hadn’t been the same since she’d met Jorge, since she’d almost become a dreadnut. What was wrong with her? Would the old Vyleria ever return?
His burst of speed took him beyond the hurricane and out of the planet’s orbit in moments. He zeroed-in on their silver glimmer of a spaceship, in one fluid movement shooting through its slick, silver exterior and into the wide-open arms of the deserted control room.
It was good to be back.
He thought about grabbing some dinner, but thought better of it. The fight with Vyleria had stolen his appetite, they always did…
“Hey, where are you guys?” he asked, seeing the control room deserted.
“Jack, is that you? I didn’t expect you back for hours. What’s up?”
“The usual, Padget,” he said, not wanting to explain the matter. “What are you lot up to anyway?”
“Spaceketball.”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Why don’t you come down and find out?”
“Where are you?”
“Floor seventy nine, first room on the left. But hurry up, I can’t take Grunt all by myself.”
Jack transported down to room 79B at once. He opened his eyes on a grey cratered moon, a crown of stars glittering overhead. There was a huge purple gas giant a little further off, its hazy atmosphere partly obscured by a double helix of rings.
“What is this place?” asked Jack, staring up at the sky as a large meteor thudded down into a dusty crater nearby.
Jack Strong: Dark Matter Page 2
