Prosperine: The Adventures of the Space Heroine Hickory Lace: Books 1, 2 & 3 (The Prosperine Trilogy)

by PJ McDermott

  "It's time that boy was taught a lesson," said Jess, as the two moved off. "He's getting far too big for his boots."

  "He might be on the verge of learning something new," said Hickory, as they watched Jenny put Gareth's arm through her own then place her other hand over his mouth.

  "He needs someone to take him in tow," said Jess, then nodded towards the planet in the viewscreen. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

  "It looks like Earth—a white cloud layer swirling around a sapphire."

  "It'll be a lot different on the ground. This place is radiation paradise. Prosperine's sun has been slowly expanding for millions of years and the planet has been subjected to higher temperatures and bombarded by gradually increasing radiation. The vegetation survives because it has adapted by evolving a protective screen. In fact, the land mass in certain places is impenetrable jungle."

  "More jungle." Hickory sighed and squeezed her eyes tight to shut out the memories of Aquarius IV.

  Jess touched her arm lightly. "Don't worry. We won't see much of it this trip. The spaceport is built on Dominion Island off the coast of the northern continent, Avanaux. It's lightly wooded but not what you'd call jungle, and Avanaux is mostly mountains, desert, and scrub with farming lands and orchards in the arable regions."

  Hickory nodded her understanding. According to the vids, the first IA explorers had found two populated landmasses of significant size and some smaller coastal islands. Avanaux and Castaliena were located either side of the equator, separated by vast, turbulent seas. A band of floating islands and reefs, six hundred miles wide, encircled the planet along its equator, further isolating the two continents. Known as the Scarf, the islands were covered with swamp and jungle. Intelligence indicated the further into the Scarf you went, the more inhospitable it became. No humanoids lived there—only insects and lower life forms. Thank God we don't have to go there, thought Hickory.

  "Lucky for us, the modern-day Castalie and Avanauri have similar physiologies—with the obvious difference being their skin pigmentation. Which gives the IA and the government of Avanaux a plausible explanation for the strange-looking creatures wandering around their cities," said Jess.

  "I guess it's better than telling their citizens they've been invaded by apes from outer space."

  Jess glanced over to the captain seated at the con. "Duty calls. Time I was strapped into my station. See you when we land."

  The Jabberwocky nudged silently against the space dock, four hundred miles above the surface of the planet. The captain's voice resonated throughout the transport, "Ship is stationary. Gravity and atmosphere are Earth normal. Good luck with your mission, commander. Thanks for traveling with us."

  A few minutes later, the door locks released, and the passengers exchanged final farewells with the crew. Jenny, who was returning to Earth, couldn't prevent a tear from escaping when she and Gareth embraced.

  Hickory led the way through the enclosed passageway to the planet-fall elevator.

  The terminal was fully automated with a hollo-assistant. "Welcome, Commander Lace. Please proceed to the departure lock. Your scheduled bubble-craft are ready for you."

  Three mini-ships awaited them. They settled into the body-length seats and authorized the bio-cocoons to encapsulate them.

  Jess signaled their readiness to the ground crew. "Releasing docking clamps for bubble-craft one, two, three. Take us in, boys."

  The bubbles dropped one by one, covering the four hundred miles to the surface at almost four times the speed of sound. As they approached their destination, the controllers switched to mooring mode. The bubbles were guided through a central shaft into an expanding Fibonacci spiral, and their speed was gradually reduced to zero.

  The spaceport on Dominion Island was located twenty miles inland, well away from the coastal population centers. Prosperine had been designated a restricted planet and only ships with an urgent need and security clearance from the IA were permitted to land. Bubble-craft from orbiting ships came and went daily—mainly first-contact experts and cultural attachés. The spaceport was continually monitored while holographic lasers camouflaged the complex from the eyes of casual passers-by.

  When Hickory and her team disembarked at the landing module-terminal, they were greeted by a young IA official named Jeremy.

  He saluted Hickory. "We were advised of your arrival this morning, commander. Everything's been prepared. All IA utilities, including landing control, quarantine and acclimatization are housed in the outer arm of the spiral, located away from the central core, so if you'll follow me, please, we'll get you started right away."

  Their first port of call was the quarantine station on the ground floor, where they were issued with lightweight Avanauri clothing. Testing for bacteria and viruses took thirty minutes before they were given the all-clear.

  When they were finished, Jeremy returned to take them through to the Maquillage Chamber. "This is where your body metabolism and respiratory systems will be harmonized with the Prosperine environment and climate," he explained. "Your external appearance will be altered to match that of a Castilie native, which isn't as painful as it sounds. First, we'll remove your body and facial hair—except for your eyebrows and a strip on your skull, which will be styled in the Ezekan fashion." He grinned. "I know it sounds a bit strange, but we've found that the Ezekanis are more accepting of a Castilie who wears their hair in a Mohawk like they do."

  Next, their skin was dyed mottled brown and impregnated with a radiation screening agent, pupils were enlarged and colored emerald green and, in Gareth's case, the ridges over his eyes were emphasized.

  Gareth looked in a mirror at his altered face. He pinched his cheeks and squashed his nose. "You guys are true artists," he told the specialist. "How long does the maquillage last, eh?"

  "Thirty-six days," said the specialist. "After that, the implants will begin to break down and release toxins into your bloodstream. But that's not so much of a problem. If you don't get back to the base by the thirty-fourth day, your body will have absorbed a lethal dose of radiation and you'll be dead anyway."

  "Oh, good. I suppose it's a fair incentive to finish the job quickly."

  The specialist grinned. "We can give you a booster any time up to the twenty-eighth day to extend the life of your maquillage for a further month. If you have to stay here longer than that, you'll need to be re-humanized on Earth before you can go through the process again."

  Their guide escorted them to the next station and left them there. The modifications to their internal organs would take longer to synthesize, and to get used to, he told them.

  A nurse settled them down on operating tables over which a multitude of robotic arms hovered. Thank God they anesthetize us... was Hickory's last thought.

  While they were sleeping, medical bots were introduced through their ear canals and immediately went into action to expand their lung capacity and alter their digestive and immune systems. When the robots had completed these tasks, the threesome were revived and taken to post-recovery to wait for the micro-machines to naturally exit their bodies. Final testing was carried out to make sure all the changes worked effectively.

  Hickory sat on the edge of her chair. She was drenched in sweat, her new feathery curls plastered to her skull. "I don't think I'll ever get used to planet arrival. How long do we have to stay here, do you think?"

  "Not long," said Gareth. "The differences between Earth and Prosperine are relatively minor. On more exotic planets, the environment can be so poisonous it takes days for the human bio-system to adapt. Here, we only need to worry about the lower oxygen, higher UV and, of course, the heat and humidity. Luckily the gravity is almost identical to Earth."

  Jess snorted. "This is what you call lucky? You make it sound so simple. Give us an oxygen mask and a pair of shades and we'll be all right! You forgot to mention that if we walked outside without acclimatizing we'd be fried in a day."

  "In actual fact, according to the specialist, it would take two days
, Mother," he said, grinning at her.

  "So, how long?" said Hickory through gritted teeth "If we don't get out of here soon, I'll expire."

  Gareth laughed. "A couple of Earth hours probably. That reminds me—better adjust our SIM comms implants to local time and the language mode to Avanauri."

  It was closer to three hours before their physiology adjusted to local conditions, and they moved on to the armory, where they selected weapons from the range provided by the Agency and sanctioned by the Avanauri government.

  “No guns, I’m afraid, nor anything else that can’t be found on the planet, but these armaments are the best of their kind,” said Jeremy

  Gareth examined the weapons hanging on the wall. "Primitive, but good quality steel," he said. He selected a pair of knives and flipped them in the air.

  Hickory and Jess ignored the longbows, crossbows and the range of spiked clubs, claymores, and spears, choosing swords and leather vests instead.

  Jess picked out a lightweight saber and rehearsed some cut and thrust. "Nice balance," she announced.

  Hickory dismissed several blades before she declared herself satisfied with a double-edged longsword. She also placed a hunting knife in her belt.

  As she walked through the giant double doors, Hickory had a strong sense of leaving behind the world of space travel and of joining the Age of Discovery that would bring present-day Prosperine into the modern era. She emerged into a hall designed to provide an aspect of familiarity to the natives whose task it was to interface with the visitors. The curved walls were made of polished black granite etched with silver. Hickory marveled at the Avanaux creation story that was represented there. The tableaux spanned the ages from the beginning of time: the creation of the heavens and the firmament, the first animals, plants, primitive-winged Avanauri, and finally the modern inhabitants amid their scientific discoveries.

  Reception desks, cubicles, and chairs, hand carved from multicolored wood, were strewn around in seemingly random fashion while frosted glass windows high above had been thrown open to admit the fresh air. A cross between a medieval church and a Fabergé egg, thought Hickory, impressive.

  Five Avanauri males approached. Two held spears, points upright, as symbols of power. All wore ceremonial daggers at their waist. The naurs had sparse, downy hair and their skin was light in color except for the dark patches around their perfectly circular eyes. There was something strange about the way they walked—stiff and stilted.

  As they drew nearer, other differences became apparent to Hickory. All wore padded jackets with high collars—the latest fashion, she presumed. These concealed their sharply sloping shoulders, but in consequence, their long, skinny arms protruded from their torso several inches below where a human's would. Five long fingers on each hand extended almost to their knees. Hickory could easily imagine feathered wings attached to those arms. The officials bowed low and offered cake and wine to the visitors. Hickory, as the leader of her party, exchanged small gifts to symbolize acceptance of the traditional law, and then they were formally admitted to Avanaux.

  A tall, dark-skinned male had been observing them from the far side of the hall, and now approached with an outstretched hand. "I'm Jebediah Nolanski, IA cultural exchange attaché in Ezekan. Welcome to sunny Prosperine. I've some transport parked half a klick away. If you'd like to follow me, we'll get you out of here and take you to our embassy—such as it is. How was your trip?"

  "I'm glad to find someone else to talk to." Hickory smiled and introduced herself and the others, then fell into step beside Nolanski. From the briefing she'd been given, she knew he was near retirement age, although his Castalienan markings made him appear younger. He was lanky—over seven feet tall, with a sharp Roman nose and thin lips. "How long have you been on Prosperine?" she said.

  "Almost a year, off and on. This is my last term. They're sending me home in two weeks for permanent re-humanizing."

  "Looking forward to it?"

  "Oh, yeah. Been away too long as it is. It'll be good to settle down."

  Hickory heard the lie in his voice but ignored it. It was only natural for him to be apprehensive about retirement after the career he'd had with the Agency.

  The trees on either side of them grew tall and thick, and curved high over their heads like a cathedral. Nolanski kept up a running commentary. "There's a lot about Prosperine they don't put in the guidebooks," he said. "Most of what you see around you is unique to these islands. These trees and vines might look like something out of the Grimm Brothers, but they’re mostly harmless—although you need to watch out for the exceptions." He pointed to a tubular flower sprouting from the center of a leafy plant growing by the side of the path. "This purple giant, for instance, is carnivorous and will swallow a small bird whole if it gets a chance. Pretty, though, isn't it?" He pushed Gareth's hand away as he reached out towards the flower. "It's not particularly dangerous to us, but its pollen can give you a nasty rash. Best not to touch."

  Gareth pulled away hastily.

  The variety of life surprised them. They'd expected it to be different, but the flora growing beneath the canopy appeared more dazzlingly exotic and prolific than any they had experienced elsewhere. Thick orange stalks rose high above their heads, with huge yellow and indigo flowers perched on top like upside-down umbrellas; pink, feathery fronds swayed in the breeze, vibrating to produce a melancholy song; smaller bushy plants sported six-inch thorns protecting psychedelically colored flowers, and on the ground, everywhere, long golden grasses proliferated.

  "The twins would be ecstatic. They'd think this is heaven," said Jess. Her eyes were round, and her head swiveled left and right, overwhelmed by the kaleidoscope of color.

  "Jess! Please don't get any closer to those grasses over there," warned Nolanski. "The ones with the barbs on them are toxic to humans. One prick and you would swell up to twice your size if you didn't get the antidote quickly. It's a very painful way to die. Lucky I always carry some with me." He held up a small bottle containing an orange liquid and grinned.

  "Don't tell me that's a plant," Jess said, pointing to a giant purple globe covered with coarse hair that sprouted three tendrils twitching in the air like leopard tails.

  "Some of the vegetation in this part of the island show signs of being sentient and are capable of movement. Our scientists are studying them to see whether they communicate with each other. The stem tips on that one have a sticky goo that traps insects. Thankfully none of these plants have learned to walk—yet," said Nolanski with a snicker.

  He indicated a trumpet-like flower on a long stem. "That one's even livelier. It behaves a bit like a pitcher plant on Earth—spits a sticky sap that paralyzes crawling insects and small animals up to a distance of ten feet. And then it extrudes a tentacle that hauls back its prey to decay around its roots."

  "Oh, wow!" Gareth watched nervously as the flower head turned to follow them. The sky buzzed with small multi-winged insects. He sniffed the air. It was rich with perfume. "The flowers sure smell a lot," he said to no one in particular.

  "Actually, it's the flies that secrete the scent. We think it's their defense against the plants—a sort of aromatic camouflage," said Nolanski.

  Gareth inspected a bright orange caterpillar as it crawled slowly up the trunk of a nearby tree. He jumped back in shock when it reared up and spat at his face.

  "Holy mother!" exclaimed Jess.

  Hickory reached out quickly and hauled Gareth away from the tree.

  Nolanski laughed. "Don't worry. It's only mildly caustic, son. Here." He handed him a handkerchief. "The animal is called a Firespitter by the locals. That's its defense against inquisitive animals that get too close. Ah, here we are." A clearing materialized out of the forest. Half a dozen large herbivores were grazing placidly.

  Jess drew in a sharp breath. "What are those?"

  "That's our transport," said Nolanski. The locals call them yarraks. That big one over there is Brutus."

  "Is it ... is it tame?" asked
Gareth, still dabbing at his cheek with the handkerchief.

  "Quite tame. More intelligent than a dog, and Brutus is fairly friendly. In the wild, a bull yarrak can be very territorial, but in captivity they're well looked after. Rich Avanauri use them to travel between cities and as work animals—they haul logs, plow fields, mill—you name it, they do it. They're not quick runners because their legs are too short and dumpy, but by God they're strong!"

  The beast snorted and lumbered across the field in their direction. It looked twice the size of a fully-grown Clydesdale, but was unlike any horse Hickory had ever seen. Brutus had no tail or hair anywhere on its massive body. Pale pink in color and crossed by gray undulating stripes, its bulk was supported by two huge front limbs and two shorter back legs. Its head, now swinging back and forth inquisitively on a long sinuous neck, seemed relatively small with disproportionately large eyes and a quivering nose like a South American tapir.

  Nolanski gathered the reins dangling from the beast's muzzle and led it over to where several wooden wagons were lined up. He stroked Brutus's nose then backed it into the harness. The yarrak looked over its shoulder as it felt the others climb into the cart. Nolanski gave a flick of the reins, and the vehicle lurched forward.

  Gareth and Jess chuckled as they were tossed around on the seat, but Hickory was too busy trying to hold on to be amused. "What about wild animals—anything we should be wary of?" she asked. She'd heard something crash through the brush, but when she turned around, it was gone.

  "This whole area is looked after by the IA. So anything big has been cleared out, though there are plenty of snakes and a variety of wild pig that's fairly common. That’s probably what you heard just then."