The Star Agency (The Star Agency Chronicles)

by R. E. Weber

  Shaking with both cold and blind fear, he selected the first Inductor and started the reaction. Instantly, from the point at which it touched the window, the glass began to frost over, stopping a couple of seconds later.

  Power Level: Zero

  The first inductor had done its work. But had it been enough? He had no idea. But it was all he had and there was no other choice now. So he selected the second inductor and started the heat reaction. For a moment it seemed like nothing had happened and the reaction hadn’t started. Then he heard a loud noise, and a single large crack appeared in the centre of the window, closely followed by several others. And for a few seconds, the sound of cracking glass echoed around the room.

  Self-destruct in P.S.N: 00:05:38

  But almost as quickly as it had started, the loud cracking noise stopped, and for a moment all Theo could hear was the sound of his own laboured breathing and thumping heart. Even through his suit, he could feel the intense cold rising up from the floor – which was already well below freezing – through every bone in his body and up to the tip of his exposed nose, which had already lost all sensation. His whole body ached and he so wanted to jump up and down and rub his hands together to keep warm, but he didn’t. However cold he felt now, he knew it was going to be nothing compared to what he was about to experience.

  Then, it happened. There was a loud bang and Theo knew that the cracked observation window had finally shattered. Immediately, he took a deep breath, and as he did so a freezing cold wall of air slammed into him from behind, lifting him clean off his feet and flinging him forwards, like a helpless rag doll, through the gaping hole where the observation window had been. For a moment, he didn’t feel the intense cold outside. Then suddenly, it hit him, like thousands of tiny, freezing needles stabbing every part of his body. Instinctively, Theo curled himself into a tight ball to conserve as much heat as possible, but it didn’t seem to help. Even with the protection of his suit and with his body squeezed tightly upon itself, the cold was more intense than he had ever imagined was possible.

  For long moments, nothing seemed to happen, and Theo felt like he was somehow frozen in mid-air. He knew he should have hit the ground by now – had there been any ground beneath him – but he hadn’t. Instead, he was still tumbling through the thin, freezing air, and that could only mean one thing: he had been blown clear of the cliff edge and was now tumbling into the massive canyon below.

  Then a sudden wave of dizziness swept over him, and his thoughts, which moments ago had been so clear and distinct, began to swim away from him almost as if he’d been drugged. His instinct was to open his mouth and take a deep gulp of air to fill his aching lungs and bring his mind back into focus. Yet somehow, even now, a tiny part of his logical mind held on knowing that it was pointless. Instead, he continued to hold his breath, guessing that it wouldn’t be long before he lost consciousness.

  Then he had the strangest sensation. Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen, he wasn’t sure, but a shimmering image began to form in front of his eyes. And suddenly, he was back in his quarters on Polisium Prime, staring at Ruby in her beautiful sari. As his mind drifted, the pain, which moments ago had been so intense, began to fade. And in his dream like state, he found himself smiling.

  Then he passed into shadow and a further wave of intense cold coursed through his body, bringing him crashing back to reality. Theo knew that the sudden darkness could mean only one thing: he was nearing the dark recesses at the bottom of the canyon. Any second now and it would all be over. For a moment he was wide-awake and alert. But then his mind began to swim away again along with the intense pain. For a brief moment before he drifted out of consciousness, Ruby’s face appeared in front of him once more. Then his mind slipped away into nothing and his body became just another tiny, frozen, tumbling boulder, ready to join the other lumps of rocks and ice that had already fallen to the canyon floor below.

  Chapter 18 – The Star Shield

  Silhouetted against the salmon pink sky, although devoid of any apparent surface detail, the Ghost Wing’s overall shape was now clearly visible. It was a flattened, smooth and mostly featureless vessel, with a very narrow profile when seen edge on. It had a single set of wide pointed delta wings gently curving into a long flattened fuselage. About halfway across each wing, two squashed cylindrical engine housings tapered to a point at the front and rear of the craft. Save for the wings, it had no sharp edges, no apparent rudders or fins and no outward sign of a cockpit or windows. And as it thundered towards the canyon at frightening speed, dropping like a stone in the thin atmosphere, it was almost totally silent.

  While controlling the ship’s descent, First Mentor had been monitoring the canyon below – focussing the ship’s sensors on the research station – when it detected signs of what appeared to be an explosion. Yet First Mentor knew that the countdown to self-destruct hadn’t yet reached zero, so what had happened? It took only moments to analyse the images and conclude that what looked like an explosion was actually explosive decompression. As the debris from the station sprayed out across the planet’s surface, some of it cascaded over the edge of the canyon and began to tumble several kilometres down towards the distant canyon floor below. And in amongst the debris, the sensors detected what appeared to be a living creature of some kind: a physical whose life signs were faltering.

  Within moments, First Mentor had calculated that, at his current rate of fall, Theo would hit the bottom of the canyon before the ship could reach him, and that left only one option if he was to be rescued: the breaking thrusters would have to be switched off to allow its rate of descent to increase again. But it was highly dangerous. The ship, in all probability, wouldn’t have enough energy to pull up in time before it hit the canyon floor. Would it even survive the impact? Even First Mentor couldn’t be certain. Yet the other choice, the logical choice, would have been to just abandon its rescue attempt and watch the poor physical plunge to its death. First Mentor’s normally infallible logic was now uncertain. Either it could undertake a highly dangerous manoeuvre and risk killing two beings – a Polisian and a Human. Or it could abandon its attempt and be almost certain of saving one. The lack of a clear and rational path open to First Mentor was highly unusual. And it was in the main due to the fact that another sense was now clouding its judgement – the closest approximation of which, in human terms, might be called Guilt. Guilt that at First Mentor’s own invitation, Theo had travelled five hundred light years to a new world, to live out his life: a life which might soon be extinguished. And guilt that if he had remained on Earth, he might still be safe and well. But First Mentor knew that a decision was required, and fast. So in a microsecond, it made its judgement. The breaking thrusters were cut off and the ship dropped like a dead weight towards the canyon floor.

  As the ship plunged deep into the canyon, a tiny hatch opened on its underside. Mustering all its concentration, First Mentor nudged the ship’s guidance thrusters ever so slightly, dropping the ship lower and lower until it reached the cloud of falling debris and began to match its speed. As it plunged into the cloud, several pieces of the observation window and other debris glanced off the ship’s underside and narrowly missed Theo as they bounced away. But now the debris field was clear, and the tiny hatch was positioned directly above his falling body. One last time, First Mentor nudged the thrusters and the ship dropped again. Then his body tumbled in through the hatchway, which quickly closed behind him.

  The canyon floor was suddenly very close now, and using all available power, First Mentor set the breaking thrusters to maximum. Then it pulled the ship’s nose up while simultaneously thrusting forwards, trying to loop it up and out of the dive. But it was too little, too late. The ship plunged into the canyon floor, disappearing in a cloud of rock and dust.

  *

  First Mentor had angled the ship perfectly, and as it hit the canyon floor it bounced, like a pebble skimming across a pond, back up into the air again. Once more, it dropped back down to the rocky surfac
e churning up more dust and rock, before eventually rising back up again and beginning a slow climb. As it flew out of shadow of the canyon into the weak sunlight, several long brown scour marks on its underside, left by its collision with the canyon floor, became visible. And for the first time since it had been built, the ship began to look like a real solid object and not a dark empty hole in reality.

  As ship shot up past the rim of the deep canyon, there was a blinding flash from behind the vessel and suddenly the dull pink sky became brilliantly illuminated as far as the eye could see. The research station had exploded. A massive shockwave thundered out through the atmosphere at phenomenal speed, closely followed by huge cloud of debris and a thunderous roar. Even in the thin atmosphere, the shockwave from explosion was devastatingly powerful, and moments later it hit the ship from behind, sending it spinning end over end and out of control. With its thrusters still on minimal power, the ship began to tumble back towards into the canyon, and it took First Mentor almost a minute to correct its angle of flight and stop its spin. But once it had gained full control again, it looped the ship out of its dive and began a slow climb back out of the canyon.

  Then suddenly, almost as inexplicably as it had failed, the ship’s main power generator came back on line. Within seconds, its power reserves began to rise and, sensing the change, First Mentor turned the ship’s nose vertically upwards and began a rapid climb into orbit away from the expanding cloud of debris.

  *

  Theo opened his eyes to see a blinding white light and instinctively squeezed them both shut again. Was he dead? Was this the afterlife – the tunnel of light that people talked about when they’d had supposed near death experiences? After all, he couldn’t possibly be alive, could he? If the fall hadn’t killed him, then surely he would have frozen to death, and that was if the lack of oxygen hadn’t gotten to him first.

  With his eyes squeezed tightly shut, he took a long, slow, deep breath, and as the pure oxygen filled his lungs, slowly his fuzzy thoughts came into focus. Then his body, which had seemed numb since he’d awoken, began to tingle. Carefully, he opened his left eye slightly and squinted. The bright light was still there above him, but now it didn’t seem quite so intense, so he opened his other eye. Once his vision had come into focus and his eyes had adjusted to the glare, he opened them both fully and looked around. He seemed to be in a small room, perhaps three meters square, lying on what appeared to be a medical couch. Above and around his body, various tubes and probes were hovering. Some were scanning beams of light up and down him, while others were attached to various parts of his arms and legs, feeding streams of liquid into and out of his body. And one tube was clamped over his nose and mouth, feeding him oxygen.

  As Theo lay on the couch, suddenly his head began to throb. Slowly, he tried to raise an arm to feel around for the source of the pain, but the arm seemed heavy like lead and didn’t work. Then he tried to lift his head, but although it moved, a sudden wave of dizziness hit him and he felt sick, so he quickly dropped it back down again. This definitely wasn’t some sort of weird afterlife because it was too painful. Somehow, he was still alive.

  ‘Please remain still,’ said First Mentor. ‘The life support systems will sustain you. When we return to Polisium Prime, you will receive the full medical attention you require.’

  ‘What happened?’ croaked Theo, his voice barely audible.

  ‘Your body was exposed to near vacuum conditions,’ said First Mentor. ‘You have suffered what you might term severe frostbite over much of your body. Your environmental suit afforded you some degree of protection, even without power. Without it, you would be irreparably damaged.’

  ‘You mean, dead?’ said Theo.

  ‘Yes,’ said First Mentor. ‘Severe cold is just as dangerous to your body as extreme heat.’

  ‘No kidding,’ said Theo.

  ‘Also, had you not been blown free of the research station by the explosive decompression, you would have been caught in the explosion from Athonesis Alpha and killed instantly.’

  ‘Explosive what?’ croaked Theo.

  ‘Explosive decompression. When the observation window shattered, the air pressure in the research station attempted to equalise with the outside air pressure. The atmosphere within the research station exploded outwards, taking you with it.’

  ‘Oh yeh,’ said Theo. ‘I did that. I made it…’ his voice trailed off as another wave of dizziness swept over him.

  ‘You must rest,’ said First Mentor insistently. ‘Your heart is still in a weakened state, and its beat has been irregular since it was restarted.’

  ‘Restarted?’ said Theo, alarmed. ‘You mean I had a heart attack?’

  ‘More accurately, your heart ceased to function due to the intense cold and shock your body suffered during the fall.’

  ‘So I’ve been dead, is that what you’re saying?’

  ‘Yes. By your own medical definitions, you were dead for about one minute.’

  Stunned at the thought, Theo just lay silently for a moment, trying to take in what had happened. He stared upwards at the multitude of probes and tubes above his head. It was then that he noticed something under the transparent oxygen mask that looked purple. Re-focussing, he tried hard to make out what he was looking at, but the more he strained his eyes to see it, the dizzier he became, so he just lay back, staring straight upwards. Then he realised that he couldn’t feel anything in his nose. When he breathed there was no feeling of the air being sucked in. It just felt like he had a large block of wood was stuck to the end of his face. Using all his strength, he tried again to lift both his arms, and this time, despite the pain and the heavy feeling, he managed to raise them. With one hand he lifted off the oxygen mask and with the other he gently pinched the end of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. It felt cold and waxy to the touch, like a lump of plastercine, with no sensation whatsoever. Then another wave of dizziness hit him, so he quickly put the oxygen mask back on and dropped his arms back down.

  ‘What’s happened to my nose?’ said Theo, his weak voice now raised in panic.

  ‘The tissue in your nose has suffered irreparable damage due to frostbite.’

  ‘Whaaaat?’ said Theo, shocked.

  ‘In essence, the living tissue of which your nose is comprised has died. But please, do not be alarmed. Our medical facilities on Polisium Prime will be able to repair the damage.’

  ‘You mean I’m going to get a new nose?’

  ‘More precisely, your nose tissue will be reconstructed.’

  Theo thought for a moment, then smiled weakly. ‘I don’t suppose there is any chance you could, you know, change its shape a bit. I’ve never really liked it very much.’

  ‘We can only restore it to its template setting,’ said First Mentor flatly.

  ‘I suppose that’s techno-babble meaning you have to set it back to its original shape, is it?’ said Theo.

  ‘Correct. But in any case, why would you wish to alter it? All our tests indicated that it was functioning correctly when you first arrived on Polisium Prime.’

  ‘Never mind. It’s a…’ Theo paused for a moment, ‘a human thing I guess.’

  ‘You wished to improve its aesthetic quality?’

  ‘Erm yeh, sort of.’

  ‘I should also advise you that the tips of several of your toes and fingers have suffered similar damage. They will of course be reconstructed in the same manner.’

  ‘I want to get up,’ said Theo. ‘I want to...’

  ‘I insist you rest,’ said First Mentor. ‘If it helps, I can render you unconscious until you arrive on Polisium Prime. It will assist you in your recovery. Do you wish me to do this?’

  ‘No,’ said Theo. ‘I want to know exactly what’s going on. I want to…’. As he tried to continue speaking, he suddenly felt the urge to cough violently, and quickly pulled the oxygen mask away from his face. Then he leaned over the side of the couch, coughed and spat onto the floor, before lying back down, his head still spinning.


  ‘Please,’ said Theo, his voice full of panic, ‘I don’t want to be put to sleep. I want to know everything that’s going on. Everything.’

  ‘Of course,’ said First Mentor. ‘I will provide an on-going status report directly into your companion. But you must rest.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Theo, ‘I will.’

  ‘Do you require further pain relief?’

  ‘Further pain relief? I didn’t know I’d had any in the first place. My body’s tingling all over and my head feels like somebody’s been playing football with it.’

  ‘We have reduced your pain sensitivity by eighty five per cent,’ said First Mentor. ‘If we had not done this, you would be suffering extreme discomfort now. Do you wish for further pain relief?’

  ‘I... I don’t think so,’ said Theo. ‘I think I’m OK.’

  ‘I am pleased to hear it,’ said First Mentor, ‘and I am pleased that you have survived.’

  ‘Yeh, you and me both,’ croaked Theo.

  *

  Several minutes later, with the ship safely in orbit, Theo watched the on-going status display silently as it cycled through what appeared to be various diagnostic checks:

  Power cell recharge complete.

  Node analysis complete. All data and systems intact.

  Hull damage assessed: Several non-critical surface abrasions detected.

  Life Support Systems: Fully Functional.

  Zero reflectivity: Compromised over twenty seven per cent of hull surface.

  Stealth Shield: Non functional

  Defensive capability: Sixty three per cent of optimal.

  Navigational Control: Ninety three per cent of optimal.

  ‘Are we still working?’ said Theo.