She found David already waiting at the front of the building, surrounded by a group of their friends, with Mr Stratton and a few teachers standing a little way apart; all were there to wish them well. Will handed them a small package each.
‘Provisions for the journey,’ he mumbled. ‘I hear the food on Mars can be pretty grim – so make the most of it, but,’ he instructed them, lowering his voice even further ‘not to be opened until you are fully settled on that Y-fli train.’
He gave them each a quick hug before Mr Stratton intervened and advised them to hurry or they might just be late for the train’s departure.
‘You might feel very important at the moment,’ he said, pulling himself up to his full height and looking down his nose at them, ‘but by the time you reach Mars, I can assure you, you’ll just be one of the many, and I don’t think the train will be put on hold just for you.’
‘Well he knows how to make someone feel really confident,’ Jocasta remarked sarcastically to David as they boarded the scratched, lead coloured minitram.
‘Oh take no notice of him,’ replied David. ‘He’s just miffed that his favourite pupil, Miss Sonia Westgate, didn’t make the grade. We’ll prove to him, and everybody else, that the best of the bunch got chosen.’
‘Hey! For Elite Space Academy Cadets that’s a pretty shabby form of transport!’ Will called out to them.
David laughed and waved and Jocasta blew him a kiss before she saw him turn away and saunter back towards the building, his shoes sending up small clouds of dust as he scuffed them along the dry, shingled path.
Chapter Five
‘Wish Will was coming with us,’ Jocasta remarked as the minitram swept out of the drive, leaving the confines of the Academy behind them.
‘Yep, he’d certainly keep us both amused,’ agreed David, as he realigned his glasses on his nose. ‘Hey, I wonder what’s in those packages he’s given us! Let’s take a look, shall we?’
‘No, David. I’ve a feeling it might be best to leave them till we’re on the train.’ She glanced at the early morning staff who’d joined them for the ride to the station and lowering her voice, continued, ‘I’ve a hunch there might be more to these packets than we’ve bargained for.’ And with that she tucked hers safely inside a rucksack pocket.
‘Okay, okay,’ David muttered. ‘Perhaps you’re right. A few more minutes won’t make a lot of difference, I suppose.’
But it was more than a few minutes before they had chance to investigate the contents of the packets. After arriving at the station and having to endure all the normal warnings and worries from their parents: DO take care and DON’T do anything stupid; don’t get on the wrong side of any of the officers, remember to wash behind your ears and are you sure you’ve packed enough socks?
‘I don’t think the Elite staff will be letting us get up to anything much exciting,’ David informed his parents. ‘From what I hear it’s all work, work, work and no play.’
‘As long as they let us sleep some time,’ Jocasta sighed. ‘I think all this travelling and excitement is going to make me very tired.’ She gazed at the long, sleek train with its shiny, silver exterior and wished all these goodbyes were over. She knew that she was going to miss her family and friends terribly but right now, at this moment, she wanted to be on that train, speeding fast away onto the space station… She kissed her mother and hugged her father, noticing the pride and emotion in their eyes, and then turned quickly away and boarded the train, dragging her luggage with her.
‘Keep the comline open!’ she called. ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.’
The pair made their way to the back of a carriage, unaware of the small group of adults left behind on the platform, waving forlornly as the train sped from the station with a hiss of rushing air.
After stacking her bags Jocasta sunk back into the comfortable blue seat, feeling the now familiar sensation of butterflies gently engaging her stomach.
‘Wish these damn nerves would leave me alone,’ she muttered more to herself than David. However, he heard the remark and retorted that he probably felt just as bad as she did.
‘After all I’ve my reputation to consider,’ he said with an impish grin on his face. She wasn’t convinced that he was being entirely flippant. ‘But, there is some compensation,’ he continued, with indecent enthusiasm. ‘Being able to travel on the latest 121 train, for example.’
Jocasta didn’t comment, just gave him a look that warned him she was in no mood for a history of locomotion or relevant statistics at that precise time.
They settled into an amicable silence, watching through the elongated train windows as the outside world sped past at an ever increasing velocity. Suddenly Jocasta remembered the packets that Will had given them earlier and with a squeal of excitement, which brought David back from his reverie, started to unwrap the packet.
‘Look David, it’s a samgee and a… aaah… I don’t think I know what this is, have you any ideas?’ She passed the unfamiliar object to David.
‘Nope,’ he replied turning the object over in his hands and squinting at it from different angles. ‘I haven’t got a clue.’
‘Let’s find yours and see if that will give us any ideas.’ Jocasta spoke in hushed tones. ‘Remember Will told us to make sure we were alone when we opened the parcels, so perhaps it’s something top secret; a new techno- or spy-seeking device.’
‘More likely a useless gadget or wind-up toy,’ he said, considering Will’s penchant for giving presents that had seemingly no use whatsoever.
‘Well,’ said Jocasta, rolling an object round in her hand that looked just like a squidgy, purple tennis ball, ‘a samgee’s not a useless device, if we get caught in a radiation storm it could save our lives. Hurry up David,’ she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. ‘Let’s see if you’ve got one too: I want to see what colour it is!’
He rummaged around in his rucksack and quickly located his parcel. He tore off the outer wrapping and out tumbled a pile of assorted items. First of all there were some packets of his favourite sweets and snacks and then an inner package carefully enclosed in what appeared to be luminous bubble wrap. There was a note attached from Will, which read keep this somewhere safe and secure, the lumu wrap will make it undetectable when you go through the scans. He read it out to Jocasta who had been scrabbling around on the floor. Her head and shoulders appeared from under the furthest seat clutching the bright green samgee that had bounced off David’s lap when he’d emptied out the contents of the parcel. She lifted it triumphantly just as the train swayed round a bend in the track which made her drop it again as she struggled to keep her balance. Luckily this time it just rolled down to David who retrieved it.
‘I’m amazed that something that size can inflate so much and still be strong enough to protect us from radiation,’ he remarked as he stowed it back in his bag. Rather nervously he added, ‘Let’s hope we don’t have cause to use it too many times.’
Jocasta read the note, remarking that there hadn’t been any message on hers. ‘And no sweets either,’ she added huffily, while David carefully peeled back the lumu wrap to expose a shiny object, about the size and shape of a large stag beetle: it even had appendages that looked like legs and antennae. It felt quite heavy and solid in David’s hand but he couldn’t make it do anything, although parts of it depressed like buttons when pushed in a certain way.
He passed it to Jocasta who looked equally puzzled, but then a glimmer of an idea came into her mind, she handed the object back to David and located hers from the back of the seat.
‘I have a strange notion,’ she said, ‘that these two devices work together somehow. Okay, at the moment we don’t know how and until we do, we won’t be able to find out why Will gave them to us… So let’s see if they fit together or react to each other in any way; as mine wasn’t wrapped in that special stuff I guess it’s not as sensitive or as important as yours, certainly at the moment it just looks like a lump of grey plastic. Here you have
a go,’ she said, handing it to him. ‘See if you can work it out, I’m in need of the loo…’
She disappeared up the corridor, leaving David holding both objects with a look of bemusement on his face.
By the time they got to London they still hadn’t been able to work out if there was a link between the two objects and the train had started to fill up with travellers for the continent; so David carefully rewrapped his present, having named it ‘the scarab’ because of its beetle shape, and tucked it away inside his trouser pocket. Jocasta had decided to call hers ‘thingummy’ which she admitted was totally unscientific, but as she pointed out to David it might just be Will playing a trick on her and be a useless bit of plastic anyway.
For some reason she didn’t really think it was, but they both wished that Will had given them a few more clues as to why they had to be so careful not to let anyone else know about the objects. It seemed rather devious to be taking unknown items on board a spacecraft, when neither of them had a clue what they might be capable of doing. However, neither of them felt they could contact Will to find out what they were as they felt it might draw them too much attention; they really didn’t know if the Elite were monitoring their communications.
I’m probably overreacting, Jocasta thought, as she dozed in her seat. But Will’s not the one who will be in trouble with the Elite if they find out we’re smuggling goods on board. With that thought, she fell into a strange dream where hundreds of beetles were roaming Mars as tiny Elite personnel and Officer Delaney was running around after them shouting, ‘You must keep to the rules and not disobey me, otherwise you will all be punished!’
She woke with a jolt as the train slid to a halt and became aware that David was in the process of devouring what looked and smelt like a hot pie. Her stomach rumbled noisily and she realised how hungry she was.
‘Don’t fret, I bought you one too,’ David told her, seeing the look of anticipation on her face. ‘And yes-’ he raised his eyes to the ceiling- ‘it is the vegetarian option, I did remember. I wondered how long you’d be able to sleep when the aroma of food hit your big nose.’
‘My what?’ Jocasta exclaimed, reaching for the bag that David was waving around just out of her reach.
‘Appetite, I meant big appetite,’ he teased, eventually handing over the pie. ‘And here’s a drink to go with your big… thirst,’ he added quickly, seeing her hand poised for a slap.
‘Thanks David, I really needed that,’ she spluttered through a mouthful of food. ‘Have you any idea where we are or how much longer we’re going to be on this train?’
But David didn’t have time to reply, for at that moment the door to the carriage slid open and an Elite official stood blocking the exit with a very unpleasant scowl on his face.
*
‘Jocasta Jackson and David Wetherby?’ the man growled at them, his heavily jowled face turned first to Jocasta and then to David, with no hint that the scowl would ever leave his face. He was dressed in a very tight fitting Elite uniform that did nothing to hide the fat stomach that protruded over his trouser belt. He actually looked quite scruffy, Jocasta thought, as she noticed the three red studs on his breast pocket that denoted his rank as sergeant. They both nodded apprehensively and Jocasta started to brush the crumbs from her clothes as he tersely informed them that they should have reported to him, more than forty minutes previously, at his compartment, located at the other end of the train.
She was just about to protest that they hadn’t been told to report to anyone let alone which compartment, when she caught sight of the look in David’s eye and thought better of it.
‘Well, hurry up!’ he snarled. ‘And bring all those untidy belongings with you!’ he added, glaring at their things scattered around the carriage. They quickly gathered them up and followed him down the corridor.
‘He hasn’t even told us his name,’ David whispered in Jocasta’s ear, as they hurried to keep up with the portly officer.
‘Yeah, and how come such a fat bloke can walk so fast down these tiny corridors?’ Jocasta replied, turning to David and lowering her voice to make sure the sergeant wouldn’t be able to hear her.
‘And,’ she went on, ‘how do we really know that he is an Elite officer, he never showed us any I.D. Perhaps he’s an impostor.’
‘Well, we’re soon going to find out, I think he’s slowing down.’
Sure enough the sergeant had stopped outside one of the doors and was peering intently at the display overhead.
‘Here Wetherby, this one’s yours. All you’ll need for the night is in here, and some other cadet,’ he dragged the last word out as though it caused him pain, ‘will join this transportation during the night. Buzzer sounds at 7.00 hours. Morning call at 7.15am.’ He jabbed at the entry panel with undue ferocity and as the door opened he gave David a none too gentle push on the shoulder which sent him tripping over the entrance strip. Luckily he managed to regain his balance and turned to mouth ‘Good luck!’ to Jocasta.
As the cabin door closed automatically Jocasta was left alone with the overweight sergeant who quickly turned on his heels and gesticulated for her to keep up and follow him further down the train.
Having no option but to obey Jocasta trailed along behind the Elite officer, waiting patiently as he stopped every few steps to peer at the names and numbers illuminated over the doors. He stopped, at last, outside the one marked Berth 67 and grunted at her that she would be spending the night there and that another traveller would be joining her later on.
Jocasta imagined a large, formidable female Elite officer squeezing into the compartment with her and wanted to ask who her fellow traveller might be; but she kept her thoughts to herself and managed to politely mumble a few words of thanks as she slipped quickly through the berth door. There she discovered a very small compartment that consisted of two narrow bunks, a small storage area for stowing bags and enclosed, behind a sliding door, a tiny, but perfectly adequate shower and toilet room.
She washed her face, quickly brushed her teeth and changed into her night things, remembering to remove her identity ring from her nose and place it on her finger. Now, which bunk to choose? It was as she climbed the little ladder to peer at the top bunk that she noticed her name and number illuminated on a small display panel. Ah, problem solved, she thought to herself, and quickly scanned the lower bunk for the name of its vacant occupant. She tried to imagine what the person with the name Nikita Kayukova was going to be like.
She decided she was much too tired to stay awake to find out and carefully re-climbed the narrow ladder and clambered into her bunk. Pulling the covers up around her shoulders she listened to the swish and clunk of the train. Soon its rhythmic rocking movement worked its soothing magic and she was gently lulled into a dreamless sleep.
Several times during the night, Jocasta’s sleep was disturbed by the train slowing or stopping at a station and she was aware at one point of someone entering the compartment; but she never woke properly until chinks of light appeared at the edges of the streamlined blind.
Needing the loo, but not wanting to disturb her travelling companion, she descended as quietly as she could to the floor. She glanced at the girl lying fully clothed and fast asleep on top of the blankets and caught sight of a mass of brown curls and a cheek flushed red against her pale skin. By the time she had showered and dressed Jocasta was feeling hungry again and was wondering about breakfast as she carefully slid the door open to see if there was anyone about.
The corridor was empty but a sleepy ‘Hello?’ from the bottom bunk made her turn round, just in time to catch the sight of an unstifled yawn as the curly haired girl tried to stretch her arms without hitting the walls or the base of the overhead bunk.
‘You must have slept well,’ the girl continued in a soft but clear voice with just the slightest trace of an accent, ‘You didn’t stir at all when I bumped into this tiny hole at about 2am.’
‘No wonder you didn’t bother to undress then,’ replied Jocasta.
‘You must still be really tired. Sorry if I woke you.’
‘No worries, it must be time for breakfast soon, anyway,’ the girl answered with a friendly smile. ‘I’m Nikita by the way, though mostly people just call me Nikki.’
‘Yes, I saw your name over your bunk, pleased to meet you Nikki, I’m Jocasta and I’m glad you’re not a big unfriendly Elite officer, ’cause I had visions of this scary person arriving in the middle of the night, taking over the cabin and bossing me about.’
‘Oh is that what you think of us Ukrainians is it?’
Jocasta shook her head quickly, hoping she hadn’t insulted her new acquaintance.
‘No not at all, and you don’t sound Ukrainian, even without my FX translator.’
‘Oh that’s because my mother’s half Scottish and I learnt English alongside my native language. And,’ she added, ‘as you can see I’m not big, scary or an Elite officer but I do seem to have taken over the entire floor with my belongings,’ Nikki giggled, looking at her things spread across the floor. ‘We’d better… I mean I’d better tidy up, in case they come in and inspect us!’
‘Oh, I’ll help.’ Jocasta bent down, starting to clear a space, relieved that Nikki hadn’t taken offence. The two girls soon had the compartment looking neat and tidy, when a buzzer sounded making them both jump; a strained voice came over the loudspeaker inviting all Elite trainees to show that they are awake by registering their right thumb print with the logging mode of the in-train communication panel.
Deborah Hockney Page 4
