Wanderer's Escape
Simon
Goodson
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright ©2013 Simon Goodson
Cover image copyright © 2013 Andrew Goodson
All Rights Reserved.
Published 9 January 2013
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
www.simongoodson.com
To my parents, Charmian and Brian
and to my brothers, Phil and Andy
Being who they were helped me to become who I am.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter One
“You! Get over there!” the guard barked at Jess, clouting him on the side of the head for emphasis.
Jess stumbled forwards, then broke into a reluctant jog. He'd seen the guards whip and beat other prisoners for not moving fast enough. Ahead several guards in heavy armour waited with two prisoners and the remains of a third. They all stood near the side of a small spaceship which was maybe a hundred metres long and thirty wide at its widest. It was only high enough for a single deck.
The dead prisoner had been ordered to open the ship's airlock but had set off a booby trap. Stuck at the front of his group of prisoners Jess had seen far more than he wanted of the death. As the man had manipulated the door controls a blast of electricity had been unleashed, ripping through his body. At least it had been fast. Over the past four days Jess had seen many of his fellow prisoners die as they set off traps, most quickly but some lingering in agony until a guard grew tired of the noise and put a bullet in their head.
They were working their way through a series of vast hangars, each filled with ships from tiny one person flitters through to immense mining vessels. At least that's what some of the prisoners said they were called. Jess had been born a prisoner, grown up a prisoner. At sixteen he knew he'd die a prisoner. Like most of the others his aims in life were to avoid being punished too often, to get enough food to survive, to keep going. Not everyone felt that way. A few tried to escape. Normally those who hadn't been born prisoners, who had memories of freedom. It was hopeless. Every prisoner was fitted with a control collar. At the slightest sign of a revolt any guard could activate the collar of every nearby prisoner. Jess didn't know how they worked, just how it felt. Like a million insects biting and burning their way down every nerve. Some people screamed, some couldn't. All dropped to the floor writhing in agony. Distance offered no safety, the guards just increased the range until the running prisoner's collar activated – in the process taking down every other prisoner within range. The punishment for those trying to escape? Other than the pain from the collar, nothing. Nothing from the guards. Punishment was left to the other prisoners, to those who'd suffered when the collars activated. Few tried to escape more than twice. Repeat offenders were almost always killed or crippled by their fellow prisoners who valued avoiding punishment from the collars far above a fellow prisoners freedom.
It wasn't all stick though. Sometimes there were rewards – like now. A month on special rations for anyone managing to help make three ships safe. Meat for every meal, real vegetables. A feast compared to the prisoners normal fare.
Not as easy as it sounded though. Jess had no idea who the previous owners had been but they'd been determined to protect their collection of ships. Many groups of prisoners were working to gain access. Hundreds had died already, just that Jess had seen or heard of. Now it was his turn to step up.
Walking past the guards he studied the two prisoners already by the ship. The closest was an old man, powerfully built despite his age. His face and arms were covered in scars and burns. Life expectancy for prisoners was thirty to thirty-five. The man looked well past that already, which probably meant he'd been captured in the last few years. The other was a woman maybe eight or ten years older than Jess, dirty face already creased with wrinkles.
Jess stopped by them, trying to ignore the charred and still smoking corpse on the floor. A guard stepped forward and shoved him towards the ship.
“Open it!” he told Jess.
Jess glanced at the other two. The girl looked away, the man spread his hands.
“We've already cleared one ship,” he said. “You're the trap fodder at the moment, like barbecue boy was before you. They'll save us for the tricky traps inside.” His face softened slightly. “Be careful kid. Take a little extra time. You look like you've got more smarts than the last one. Use them. You'll need his pry bar.”
Jess nodded. The bar was needed to open jammed doors, and in theory to deflect any electrical blast safely into the floor – though the corpse grasping the bar showed how well that worked. Jess took a deep breath, stepped to the smoking corpse and with a shudder prised the metal bar from charred fingers. It came free easily, if it hadn't Jess was sure he'd have lost the meagre contents of his stomach. Standing he turned to face the airlock.
The ship seemed different from the others Jess had seen in the hangars. Where most were blocky, often with garish paint jobs, this one was smooth, streamlined, and silver all over. No access panels, no warning signs, no external pipework. All that broke the side he looked at were the faint outlines of the airlock and a lock panel to the right of it. The panel where the booby trap had been set.
Jess peered closely at the lock panel, taking care not to touch it. A standard looking access system, number pad to enter the combination and a display above. Wires ran from it to a cracker unit which showed a long series of digits. Had the last prisoner just got unlucky? Mistyped a number? Jess reached out to start typing but then paused. Somehow the panel looked wrong, seemed to jar with the rest of the ship.
Stepping back a little he studied the ship's side again, following the outline of the airlock. To the left he found a slight indentation in the hull at shoulder height. Gingerly he reached out and pressed, body tensed.
Nothing happened. Jess let out a shaky breath. Then he noticed that the outline of the door seemed a little clearer, and as he watched the entire door slid sideways revealing a small airlock.
“Well done kid.” said the older man, stepping forwards and clapping Jess on the shoulder. “Plenty of room for the three of us. The guards won't come in with us, not till we've finished clearing the main traps from inside. Come on.”
The man stepped into the airlock. Jess stepped in to his left, the girl to his right. The outer door closed quickly, leaving them in darkness.
“Matt!�
� the girl's voice snapped out.
“Sorry.” muttered the man, Matt, flicking on an electric lantern. “Wasn't expecting the door to close that quick. Hope the inner door opens soon, the air in here won't last that long.”
“Yeah, thanks Matt. Like this doesn't suck enough without thoughts like that.”
“Sorry Sal.” Matt turned, Jess could just make his face out. “Hey kid, what's your name?”
“Jess.”
“Jess. Well Jess, I'm Matthew, Matt normally, and this is Sal. You seem to have some smarts so maybe you'll be around long enough for us to need your name. Or stuck in this airlock long enough to need it.”
“Matt!” hissed Sal. “You know I hate the thought of getting trapped on one of these ships. Can you please shut up!”
Before Matt could reply the inner door smoothly drew back, so quickly that Jess who had been leaning on it stumbled out. Matt stepped out next holding the lamp up, followed by Sal.
Jess looked around in wonder. The only ships he'd been on before were prisoner transport barges, all bare metal and dirt, stinking of fear and filth. This was a different world. The room they were in was the width of the ship and about twenty metres long. It was sparklingly clean and completely empty, lit by gentle lighting in the ceiling. A door to their right lead towards the front of the ship, another to the left lead towards the back. Matt turned off the lantern.
“Be careful.” Matt said. “Just because it looks empty doesn't mean there can't be traps.”
They took a few tentative steps then a sharp beeping made Jess freeze in place.
“Relax kid.” laughed Matt, pulling a radio off his belt. “We're in.” he said into it.
“What took you so long?” came the crackly reply.
“The inner door didn't open for a while. We just got into the main ship.”
The radio stayed silent for a few seconds. Suddenly burning pain slammed through Jess's entire body. As his muscles all convulsed he dropped to the floor, stayed laying there for a few seconds before he realised that the collar had turned off almost as soon as it had been activated. As he climbed back to his feet the radio crackled into life again where Matt had dropped it on the floor.
“Just a reminder that you aren't safe in there.” came the guard's voice. “Now get on with it.”
“Bastards!” muttered Sal.
Jess climbed back to his feet. Glanced at Matt for guidance. The old man gestured right, to the front of the ship. Jess started to walk towards the door, taking each step carefully. He reached the door without incident and stood studying it. This time there were no obvious controls, nothing like the fake number panel by the airlock. Looking closely he made out a small indentation to the left. With a deep breath he reached out and touched it. With a soft hiss the door slid open, revealing a short passage with another door at the end.
“Hang on kid.” Matt said. “There's something strange here.”
Jess turned to look at him.
“Too clear?” asked Sal.
“Yep. Every other ship has been littered with traps every step of the way. We should have found at least a handful already. This ship is different. Why?”
“Maybe because they couldn't get in here.” said Jess thoughtfully.
“Sure. And yet you walk up, press the wall and the ship just opens up for you?” Sal said scornfully. “Right.”
Jess shrugged, not saying anything. He still felt he was right. Matt stood deep in thought, Sal paced edgily backwards and forwards. Finally Matt sighed.
“Well we won't solve this mystery by standing still, and our lords and masters outside will be getting twitchy fingers on the collar controls again soon. Sal, this is where you take over. I reckon the flight deck must be beyond that door and we don't want Jess setting off anything that wrecks it. You're up.”
Grumbling under her breath Sal pushed past Jess, walked to the end of the corridor and studied the door before pressing the wall to the side. Nothing happened. She pressed again harder, then several times in succession.
“Nothing.” she called back over her shoulder. “Dead. Or locked. Doesn't want to open either way.”
“Let me look.” said Matt moving past Jess into the corridor.
He reached out to press the door control, again nothing happened. Jess moved a little closer and the door from the main room slid shut behind him.
“Shit!” Sal shoved past Jess, reached out to palm the door control and let out a shuddering breath and leaning against the wall as the door opened again.
“You OK?” asked Matt.
“Yeah.” Sal nodded shakily, though to Jess she looked anything but. “Getting shut into small spaces once too often!”
“Maybe you shouldn't have volunteered for this job then.” Matt chuckled.
Sal snorted but didn't bother to reply. Jess had been studying the door and panel while they spoke. Now he reached out and gently touched the door control. The door slid smoothly open, revealing a small flight deck.
“How the hell did you do that?” Matt asked, startled.
Before Jess could reply red flashing lights came on around them and a siren started to blare. Bolts of electricity arced out from the walls grounding through them. Sal let out a brief scream that ended with her choking. Jess was choking too. He wasn't getting burned as he'd expected but couldn't breath. He scrabbled at his throat, trying to break free, to get some breath. His fingers found purchase and he pulled as hard as he could, collapsing to the floor and drawing in a deep breath. After a few seconds he heard the other two also dragging breath rapidly into their lungs. The siren stopped, the flashing red lights were replaced by the soft white light.
Jess stared at what lay on the floor then tentatively reached up and touched his neck. He felt skin, nothing else. The control collar lay on the floor in front of him. That shouldn't be possible, once fitted any attempt to remove a collar led to it activating, and all collars within fifty metres doing the same.
Jess turned to look at the other two. Sal had both hands against her neck, staring eyes wide at her collar on the ground. A smile on her face.
Matt had a face like thunder. He looked up, catching both their gazes before speaking.
“We're dead.” he said flatly.
“What?” spluttered Sal. “Why?”
“That's why.” Matt gestured at the collars. “We've found a way to get them removed. The guards won't allow that story to get out. The moment they see us we're dead. If we step outside so the rest of the prisoners can see then they're all dead too.”
Sal and Jess sat shocked, the truth of his words sinking in. Matt looked up and around at the ship.
“Not even like we can make a run for it in this thing. We'd have to find a way out of these hangars and dodge everything they can throw at us. If we even got out from here they'd hunt us down like dogs. Though...” a grin spread across his face. “If we're dead anyway we might as well have some fun.”
He pushed himself to his feet, kicked his collar aside and made his way into the flight deck. Jess and Sal followed.
The flight deck was simple, one seat set at the front with two banks of two behind it. The seats were padded, comfortable looking. The front seat was clearly for the pilot, a joystick and a totally blank display board showed that. There were no windows. The walls looked like they might be screens, though they were dead now.
Matt sank into the pilot's chair, grasped the joystick and tried tapping the blank area in front of him. Nothing.
“Nothing. Totally dead.”
His shoulders sank. A few seconds later the radio burst into life.
“Get back to the airlock and open it now. It won't open for us. You have sixty seconds before we activate the collars.”
“On our way.” Matt answered. He flicked off the radio and continued. “Well, that's good news at least. Now we can starve in here, or die of thirst. Or open the airlock and get shot by the guards.” He thumped the blank panel in front of him.
“Matt.” Sal said softly, restin
g a hand on his shoulder. “Let Jess have a try.”
“What? Why?”
“Because the ship seems to be responding to him. He opened the outer airlock. We couldn't open the door to get in here, but it opened first time for him. What have we got to lose?”
Matt sat thinking for a moment then stood, smiling a lopsided smile at Jess.
“All yours kid. No pressure.”
Jess looked from one to the other, thoughts tumbling over each other. What did they think he was? He wasn't anything special, just one more prisoner.
He slipped into the pilot's chair carefully. Nothing happened. He grasped the joystick. Again nothing. He reached out, touched the blank panel in front of him. Still nothing. He tried resting both hands flat on the panel. The controls remained dead.
“I was so sure.” muttered Sal.
“Never mind. It was worth a try.” said Matt. He clapped Jess on the shoulder. “Don't blame yourself kid, it was always a long shot. Now we need to decide whether to open the airlock or not.”
Jess slumped back in the chair, arms resting on the arm rests. As his hands touched the black material a shock ran through them, almost like they'd been bitten. Before he could say anything the ship started to come to life around him. First the walls, screens flickering into life. Images appeared showing the hangar, the other ships, even the guards and prisoners outside. Then the board in front of him lit up. Most of what he saw made no sense, but an outline of the ship from the side and above drew his eyes. It was mostly red, with some yellow. The only green section was the front, the flight deck. That was changing though. Areas flickered from red to yellow to green.
“She's powering up.” said Matt, disbelief in his voice. He grabbed Sal in a bear hug. “You were right! You were right! The ship is reacting to the kid.”
Jess sat staring at the displays in front of him, mind reeling. Feeling dizzy. Outside he could see the guards starting to rush around, pointing towards the ship. Something was happening. The radio crackled into life.
Wanderer's Escape Page 1
