Paragon- Ghost Hunters

by Freddy Milton

  The question at hand was, of course, the deciding and handling of that traffic. It was at least the consolation and explanation Paragon repeated to himself as he continued to pursue his goal.

  ”Now we're almost there.”

  They had all heard similar remarks before. Such comments were typically the kind captains always made to keep up courage of demoralized expedition participants on the verge of giving up. Of course, they had to pull themselves together and continue, since they had come so far.

  A short time later the captain turned.

  ”Now we are here!”

  ”Well, we're not out in the open? Where is the daylight and fresh air?”

  ”It's just on the other side of the large metal wall there.”

  Now they all realized that they had come out into a big cave, and that there was indeed a metal wall enclosing the cave on its other side. A bit of light penetrated through the holes in the roller door, where rust had corroded the metal.

  ”Damn it, you are right! This is actually the inside of a hangar.”

  Finally, Lorkamel XXX also arrived out into the cave, where he looked around. Quickly, he saw what he had longed for.

  ”And there she stands, galdarn it! As beautiful as ever. The Centennial Eagle!”

  They all looked in the direction Lorkamel pointed. Most of them were not impressed. In everyone's mind, this spaceship that meant the gateway to freedom, had grown to such large proportions that its appearance was, in their imagination, adorned with great aesthetic values. Each of the participants had formed a lofty image of this spaceship. But it lived in no way up to even the slightest of their expectations.

  ”Is... is that... The Centennial Eagle?”

  It was a rhetorical question. Lorkamel had already spread his arms and embraced the spaceship with his enthusiastic declaration of love. He was apparently aware of some qualities the others couldn’t see. Well, so be it. He did have the experience to build upon. They had to trust his judgment. They had no choice.

  They plodded slowly in the direction of the disc-shaped, ellipsoid ship, with its two stern drives providing the momentum.

  Maskyvir was not impressed.

  ”I believe there are some rust spots.”

  Lorkamel ignored his dig.

  ”That’s no surprise. Parked in the hangar for many years with the grotto guaranteed to be damp, it would be strange if there had been no rust stains.”

  Chris dared to press upon a rust stain. If he had continued, his claw would have passed through. Lorkamel put two forepaws akimbo.

  ”What kind of miserable bunglers are you? Here we have finally found the means to get away from here, and then you come up with miserable reservations. What we need is confidence and optimism. Without it we won’t get far!”

  They looked at each other. Lorkamel was right. No matter what, they had to gather courage and engage in the matter. Otherwise, their efforts and preliminary luck would have been in vain. Lorkamel walked around and kicked the tires. They still held air pressure.

  ”Freedom Fighters! Fetch the barrels with fuel over there, and let’s get The Centennial Eagle ready! It takes some time to get her warmed up, and no one knows how long we have to get it done. If the guards discover that I’ve escaped out of the rat hole in the crypt, I guess they’ll quickly figure out where I am, and what I am trying to do. If they recall the connection, that is. We can only hope most people have forgotten.”

  Lorkamel had difficulty opening the entrance door. Paragon interfered.

  ”Let me. It might be locked.”

  He climbed up the ladder so he could reach the handle.

  ”No way it’s locked, I know. I destroyed the lock myself on the trip to Synpotar with rifles for the rebel army. I do recall that much.”

  It wasn’t long before Paragon had gotten the locking latches to work.

  ”That’s it. It was no big deal.”

  ”Fine, Paragon! All freedom fighters salute your glorious efforts!”

  Paragon and the souls filed into the spaceship, one by one.

  ”It smells a little... stuffy.”

  Chris would have characterized it as moldy, but abstained. Lorkamel wasn’t thrown off balance by this.

  ”It makes sense. Shamefully she has been left here for several years. Now listen, just avoid stepping right there, yes. Try to continue in that direction, by walking gingerly atop those stringers, instead. And tell the others to do so as well. They weigh more than you do.”

  They looked up at the being, who was to be their pilot. He noticed their lack of faith in his plan.

  ”What now? The floor also swayed when I had her swooning last time. That doesn’t matter one hoot. But you’d better not make a hole in the fuel tanks underneath. Do you understand?”

  They nodded. They were not slow-witted, just hit by a touch of skepticism.

  Lorkamel sat in the driver's seat.

  ”Ah! I have longed for this for ages! This is life!”

  He tried to look through the windshield.

  ”Ehh, could one of you just climb out and wipe the dust off?”

  Victoria volunteered, and found a cloth somewhere. The pilot leaned out of the entrance door.

  ”How are you doing, friends?”

  ”We’re getting ready. But is there enough fuel?”

  ”There is what there is. We’ll have to refuel somewhere. It uses standard fuel, not required to be high octane. We’ll solve that problem along the way. Try to open the gate.”

  The Gluvarps struggled with the gates. Luckily, they were simple sliding gates. Had they been hydraulic, there would have been cause for concern. But as it was, they only had to knock the gates’ roller mechanisms free from rust and dirt, to move them.

  That tactic worked. Meanwhile, Lorkamel tried the ignition. It chopped a bit but he had to give up. Paragon volunteered again. Lorkamel surrendered to the technician’s greater skills. Paragon removed the cover of the engine and began assessing the situation. Fortunately, the ship had a glorious, old-fashioned design that didn’t require an advanced course in data technology to figure out.

  When the gates slid to the side with great clatter, more light came into the cave. Amidst the open bright field stood a lonely sentry. Ordered to guard the hangar and report on irregularities, he didn’t expect there would be something coming from inside the hangar.

  The security guard tried to run away, but the Gluvarps caught up with him and led him back before he could raise the alarm switch. When they returned to the Centennial Eagle, Maskyvir asked Lorkamel for advice. He knew what the answer would be.

  ”We have arrested a sentry. Should we take him along?”

  Lorkamel again tried the ignition. It didn’t sound quite as reluctant as before. Paragon was on the right track. Lorkamel turned to Maskyvir.

  ”A prisoner?”

  ”Yes. We can, of course, let him go, if we get the engine running and are sure to take off. Then they can’t stop us in any case.”

  ”Let him go? No way! There can be no question about it. He must go with us. Then, we'll be fourteen on board!” ”I knew you'd say that.”

  Maskyvir gave sign to those guarding the prisoner.

  ”Get the prisoner on board. The pilot believes doing that will keep away the worst of accidents.”

  Lorkamel finally got the engine running, thanks to the small tricks Paragon knew to make dull ignition coils wake up.

  ”All aboard! Hold on tight!”

  Paragon closed the entrance door and put a match beside the handle so it didn’t burst open.

  The space ship chugged along the concrete floor, and only after arriving outside, Lorkamel added the two servo boosters they had not actually tested, but seemed to work. The old spaceship shook and rocked, but it sped up. Although it dipped slightly at the end of the runway, Lorkamel coaxed The Centennial Eagle into the air before it could collide with some electric wire masts.

  ”We’re on our way! I knew she wouldn’t disappoint us!”

&nbs
p; Lorkamel’s loving gaze betrayed an ecstatic glow, when he pulled the control stick and headed for the infinite universe.

  Unfortunately, they had not flown very far before they discovered there was someone chasing them.

  ”Damn! We are being persecuted!”

  ”By whom?”

  ”It looks like some stratofighters from Myrgol.”

  ”How do they know we have managed to get away?”

  ”They probably don’t. But they have six eyes in their heads set at angles for constant glances at their radar screen.”

  ”But why would they suspect us of anything?”

  ”Prison Management on Taurus X has certainly sent out an alert, and Myrgol is the closest planet of the Federation financing the operation of Taurus X. They cannot allow the planet to disintegrate as a long-term parking space of convicted lawbreakers, so they’ve sent some stratofighters to Taurus X as military reinforcement. Certainly, during their approach, they must have been told that we are moving away from there. So their first task will be to hit us.”

  Unfortunately, that assessment was correct, as the first two missiles now exploded close by The Centennial Eagle.

  ”Can’t we make a hyper jump and get them off our tails?”

  Lorkamel regretted that.

  ”No, unfortunately not.”

  ”What do you mean? Can’t this rusty old bucket even make a hyper jump?”

  Lorkamel XXX, nephew of the infamous Lorkamel X, tried to stay calm.

  ”Yes, certainly The Centennial Eagle can hyper jump, but just not right now.”

  Paragon was shocked.

  ”We need it right now, damn it! So why can’t it perform?”

  ”First the batteries must be charged to a certain point. When they’ve been flat for so long, it takes some time. It’s not rocket science, or rather it is. With time comes the solution.”

  ”How long will it take before this rusty bucket can hyper jump?”

  ”A quarter of an hour I believe.”

  ”By then we’ll have been blown to smithereens!”

  ”But there’s something else.”

  ”What?”

  ”With the current charge, the ship can divert its position. It will draw on the batteries, so it will take somewhat longer before we can hyper jump. But maybe that's a help.”

  Another missile was passing the spacecraft, this time dangerously close.

  ”What's that all about?”

  ”We stay in this dimension, but the ship moves forty to fifty fathoms either way.” (“fathoms” are only used in water distance-NEVER to measure space in air or on land.)

  ”Do it! It will disrupt their aiming systems!”

  Lorkamel did it, and good that he did. Immediately afterwards, a new missile passed by, in precisely the position where The Centennial Eagle had been just before. There was jubilation in the small spaceship. Nargykar was so excited that he jumped a few times, forgetting the place in the flooring he shouldn’t strain. One of his paws went through the floor and hit one of the fuel tanks underneath. Fortunately, the container remained intact.

  Unfortunately, the enthusiasm was short-lived, for the stratofighters’ aiming systems immediately started calculating a new missile course, and they quickly found the new position. So Lorkamel again had to divert his ship’s position.

  ”By my calculations, we must divert position so often that it will drain the batteries’ power.”

  ”What does that mean?”

  ”Soon we’ll no longer be able to dodge the fighters.”

  ”How long will that take?”

  ”Well, I’d estimate that in about fifteen minutes we won’t be able to avoid them anymore.”

  Nargykar came up with a proposal.

  ”Can’t we throw something overboard to increase speed?”

  Lorkamel replied wryly.

  ”The only thing we can throw overboard are redundant passengers, but I suppose we have none?”

  ”We have the guard.”

  Lorkamel looked across at the disconsolate sentry.

  ”That won’t help. Then there’ll be thirteen of us on board, and that’s an unlucky number. That’ll bring down disaster upon us for sure!”

  The guard breathed a sigh of relief. Superstition now had its advantages.

  Chapter 27

  KOLOSSOS

  ”Hell and damnation! Now they got us anyway!” Frantically, Lorkamel tried to stay on course, but it was hard. When you looked out of the left side window in the control room's cabin, there was no doubt something was seriously wrong. The port side servo booster was inoperative, and some of the metal shot away.

  ”I’ll try to keep us going on the second booster. I managed that from Tjovanok III to Syrkolamir when the servo booster failed last time, and there was quite some way to go.”

  ”Were you also persecuted at that time?”

  ”No, indeed not, but... There is also an advantage of uncertain control. It becomes harder for their aiming system to log on to the right course for their missiles. Awk, goldarn it! Now they almost hit us again. We‘ve got to keep on our toes to handle this. Stop distracting me.”

  Paragon tried to comply with that order. After making a few more maneuvers to divert their position, the battery level was now disastrously low.

  ”Is there a place where we can make an emergency landing? An asteroid or something?”

  Maskyvir was looking for a straws. Paragon set out to explain things without distracting Lorkamel unnecessarily. He already steered desperately from side to side, partly to avoid being hit by missiles, partly because the ship with only one active engine was in constant imbalance and difficult to maneuver.

  ”It won’t help. Asteroids have no runways so The Centennial Eagle will crash on impact. Moreover, they have no atmosphere. It might do for those of us who come from soul existence, but not the others.”

  Then Nargykar came up with a comment.

  ”What’s that up ahead?”

  He was right. There was something there.

  ”It looks like a ball.”

  ”It’s farther away.”

  ”Then it's a big ball.”

  It was something of an understatement. The ball was a spaceship.

  ”It’s no ball. It is a spacecraft, and it's huge. Almost like a space station.”

  ”Then perhaps it’s parked in a kind of orbit?”

  ”No, it moves.”

  ”Where does it come from?”

  ”I haven’t seen anything like it.”

  ”Isn’t there a landing portal somewhere near the center?”

  ”There are at least large arrows around it. It must come from a place where they also use arrows to show direction.”

  ”But I’m not so happy with the other signs beside them.”

  ”Something dangerous?”

  ”

  Something unknown in any case.”

  ”I advocate that we fly through the portal. It must be an access to smaller spaceships. Someone like us.”

  ”Any possible communication with that thing?”

  ”No, and we don’t have time to wait for permission to land. The battery level is so low that we can’t make more diverting of position and our pursuers still send missiles in our direction.”

  Out of sheer despair, Lorkamel turned The Centennial Eagle towards the spherical giant formation.

  ”Now red lights flash on each side of the entrance portal. If it’s an opening calculated on approach, that is.”

  ”We can’t bother now. We'll need to attempt a landing.”

  Another missile roamed the ship, but Lorkamel was lucky enough to turn The Centennial Eagle around so much that it only just touched the entrance aperture. He turned off the servo booster and the engine too. The brake parachute didn’t work, but the vessel was intercepted by a huge net at the end of the runway probably placed there for the very same reason.

  When they opened the cabin and ventured down to the new location, it only lasted a moment before all crew
members not being souls passed out. For some reason Paragon also kept his consciousness, or he just experienced it as such.

  Immediately when the physical life forms fell down, creatures came up and placed a kind of diving helmets over their heads. Measurements of the air left in their respiratory system managed helpers to calibrate a usable gas, so the victims didn’t suffocate. Still some time passed before they regained consciousness.

  First, the victims were afraid and apprehensive, but as they realized that the helmets and air tanks were necessary to ensure survival, they were reassured. The alien creatures would not claim their lives. At least, not right away. It was after all a relief, but maybe it was mostly because they first had to deliver some useful information?

  Paragon and the souls were led up to a large room and a distinguished creature approached them. It looked a lot like themselves in their Bastytjak identity. The costume the creature wore also reminded somewhat of the guards, but it could probably be considered more classy. Paragon had a sense of what kind of a spaceship they had entered. This was confirmed when the creature began to speak.

  ”You probably cannot understand what I say, so I suppose I must try to use some kind of imagery.”

  Paragon registered on his transmutator that the language was the one the Bastytjaks used. Then Paragon said something and he noted that his discourse through the transmutator apparently surprised the creature as intended. For safety's sake, he tried to be polite.

  ”I can understand what you say, and I have a sense of who you are and what your job is. My name is Paragon and I come from Earth's soul administration. We have regretfully come to realize that souls abducted in our core activity areas now find themselves imprisoned at planet Taurus X, then by all indications transferred to a remote destination in another solar system. We believe it to be Cassiopeia.”

  It may be sufficient as an introduction. No need for a stronger disapproval at the beginning. The Bastytjak answered willingly.