Space Jackers
Page 3
With a heavy heart, he started down the rough, twisting path. It wasn’t easy to see where he was going and he often slipped on loose stones in his haste to escape. His hands caught on cobwebs, but he didn’t mind spiders; they were like eight-legged fishermen casting their nets to catch their supper. He was more afraid of the muffled shots in the tech-library behind him.
Jake kept checking over his shoulder, convinced that the pirates would find the secret opening at any moment and follow him into the tunnel. He was so distracted that he failed to notice the dead end until he bumped into it. His eyes studied the solid surface. Was this the bottom of the hill? How was he supposed to get out? He pushed rocks at random in the hope that one of them was a disguised lever, but nothing worked and the wall didn’t look much like a door.
What if the tunnel had collapsed?
‘“I must rely on technology”,’ he said, quoting from his studies. ‘Most problems can be broken down into scientific calculations.’
With his back to the wall, Jake started to enter the facts into the computer, but this needed advanced logic and he wasn’t good with complex formulas. He stared blankly at the bright screen. If there was a solution, it was over his head.
‘That’s it,’ he said, holding up the device.
The answer was over his head. Hidden in the shadows at the top of a shaft was a small round hatch in the roof. Jake swung the light beam around and picked out a rusty ladder sticking out of the hole. Jamming the computer in his mouth, Jake grabbed the lowest rung and pulled himself up, pushing off the rocks with his feet.
The ladder was cold and slimy. Jake ignored the smell of corroding metal and climbed steadily up the narrow shaft, until he came to the hatch. He pressed his hand against the steel surface. It hadn’t been opened for a long time, judging by the wad of cobwebs he wiped away.
Jake located a handle and pulled, but it refused to move. Was it locked? He tugged harder and the handle shifted a fraction, covering him in flakes of rust.
‘Right,’ he said, his teeth still gripping the handheld computer.
Wrapping one arm around the top rung of the ladder, Jake wrenched the handle with all his might. This time it turned and clicked into place. He used his shoulders to push open the heavy hatch and then clambered out on to a dusty floor.
Where was he?
Jake took the computer out of his mouth and scanned the surrounding walls. An assortment of crates and boxes suggested that he was in some kind of storage room. In the corner, a staircase led up to a door. He quickly replaced the steel hatch and dragged over a heavy crate to ensure it stayed shut.
‘What now?’ he asked himself.
Glancing around the room, he noticed a small window near the ceiling. He stacked a few crates against the wall and climbed up to the window. It was too narrow to climb through. At first, all Jake could make out was acid rain falling in the night, but then he saw the bottom of Temple Hill with its familiar crude path. He was pretty sure that he was under one of the shops or bars on the edge of the space docks, but which one?
Searching for more clues, Jake spotted something tucked behind a boulder at the bottom of the hill. Hiding in the shadows was a small space shuttle armed with a laser cannon. His eyes were drawn to the distinctive emblem on its side: a white skull in a space helmet over two crossed bones.
His heart stopped.
It was a space pirate assault craft.
Two guards stood watch. Jake instantly recognised them as spacejackers, dressed in their scarlet combat suits with chunky space boots and silver skull-shaped space helmets. He knew their padded gloves would have special grips for scaling smooth surfaces, and their kit belts would contain useful raiding tools, such as picklocks, micro-drills and climbing ropes.
All space pirates wore helmets, which were usually shaped like scary skulls or alien heads, as well as combat suits in their crew’s own colours. The combat suits were thinner than normal spacesuits and fitted with light armour, which meant that they were only good for short periods in space. In the stories, spacejackers personalised their outfits with patches, straps and buckles, but not these two pirates, whose clothes looked brand new. Their weapons were not the classic laser pistol and cutlass combination either. Instead, they carried modern plasma rifles and palm grenades. It seemed that business was booming.
Jake ducked down to avoid being noticed. He had to find a way off the planet before the space pirates discovered him. With no time to lose, he climbed down the crates and headed for the door at the top of the staircase. There were voices and music on the other side, as well as a strong smell of beer and tobacco. It was most likely a bar full of mining crews on surface leave.
He wondered why the cyber-monks would have a tunnel leading to such a place, when they weren’t allowed to drink alcohol, but then realised it probably hadn’t always been a bar. Perhaps it had once been crew quarters or a maintenance workshop. A lot had changed over the last five years. Nobody used to go out at night before the mayor built the covered walkways on the streets.
Jake pressed his ear against the door and listened carefully, like a thief trying to crack a safe. When he was certain the coast was clear, he opened the door and slipped into the bar. It was decorated in blocks of colour and lit by rows of neon lights. People were gathered around small plastic tables, clutching flasks and sharing colourful stories, while a house robot served drinks at the counter. No one seemed to be aware of the attack on the monastery, but the sounds were muffled by the loud music and stormy weather.
Jake shuffled along the side of the bar towards the exit. He resisted the urge to run and tried to act as though he belonged there, hoping that people were too distracted to notice him. As he reached the door, it swung open without warning and a gust of wind blew into the room. The silhouette of a man filled the doorway, his face concealed by shadows, so only his tall outline was visible against the night sky.
‘Hello there,’ said Callidus Stone, stepping into the light. ‘It’s a little late for a teenage boy to be in the space docks, isn’t it?’
Chapter 4
The Dark Horse
Jake froze at the sight of the fortune seeker. He desperately tried to think of an excuse for being out at night.
‘I’ve been . . . collecting for charity,’ he said. ‘But you’re right, it’s late and I must be getting back.’
‘Really?’ Callidus spotted Jake’s pendant and refused to step aside. ‘I’d like to make a donation, but you don’t seem to have any means of collecting it.’
‘Ah, yes, that’s because –’
‘You can drop the act. I’ve seen what’s happening on Temple Hill. I don’t know how you escaped, but you can’t leave this bar, not while there are space pirates outside.’
Jake glanced past the fortune seeker and spotted a group of armed figures lurking in the streets.
‘Get back, they mustn’t see you.’ Callidus pushed Jake inside and closed the door. ‘Just stay calm and listen to me. I can help you, but you have to do as I say.’
‘I know who you are,’ said Jake. ‘I heard you talking with Father Pius. You’re Callidus Stone, the fortune seeker.’
‘Yes, that’s me, the one and only.’
‘Why should I listen to you?’
‘Because you have very few options, so I suggest you come with me.’
Jake hated to admit it, but the fortune seeker had a point. Callidus led Jake across the bar to a private booth at the rear. Jake recognised the man sitting at the table as the other passenger from the ship.
‘Is this who I think it is?’ asked the stocky man excitedly. ‘Wow, get a load of those purple eyes.’
Callidus looked at Jake. ‘As we’re going to be friends, why don’t you tell us your name?’
‘I’m Jake,’ he said reluctantly. ‘Jake Cutler.’
Callidus smiled and slid into a seat. ‘This is my associate, Capio Craven. He’s going to help us to find a ship.’
‘I am?’ Capio slurped his drink.
‘No problem.’ Capio slipped on a suede coat. ‘I can’t believe you did it, Cal. I can’t believe you found him.’
‘Keep it down, you idiot. We don’t want everyone to know.’
Capio snatched up the coin pouch and hurried off, knocking over a stool in his haste. Callidus dimmed the table light and ordered two soft drinks. He then rested his dusty leather boots on the table and sank deeper into his chair, his eyes fixed on the door. Jake spotted a laser pistol sticking out of the fortune seeker’s blue coat. He wondered what else Callidus was hiding.
‘So, you reckon Altus is real,’ said Jake.
‘Yes, that’s right. I’m convinced it exists and I plan to find it with your help.’
‘My help? Why would I know where it is?’
‘Because you’re special,’ said Callidus. ‘It’s my belief that you’re from Altus and you hold the key to its location. You see those three precious stones embedded in your pendant?’
Jake placed a protective hand over his necklace and stuffed it back inside his top.
‘According to my research, they represent the three crystal moons of Altus, which are made entirely of precious stone: one diamond, one ruby and one emerald. I’ve spent years searching for Altus. I’m positive the planet exists and together we can prove it.’
‘What makes you think I’ll help you?’ Jake folded his arms defiantly. ‘I’m supposed to go to a monastery in the fourth solar system.’
‘I expect you want to find Altus as much as I do,’ said Callidus. ‘Besides, once we get away from the space pirates, you’ll owe me a favour and it’s one that I’m keen to collect.’
‘How do I know you’re not working for those animals?’
‘You don’t, but if I was in league with them,’ Callidus nodded at the door, ‘I would have already handed you over to the pirates. Now they know you’re on Remota, we have to get you away. We need to find Altus.’
Capio entered the bar as quickly as he had left, rushing over to their booth with a now empty leather coin pouch.
‘Good news, Cal. I’ve booked us on to a ship. It’s an old cargo hauler called the Dark Horse and it departs in fifteen minutes. I spoke with the first mate and he said they could drop us at a spaceport in the next solar system. It wasn’t cheap, but it’s all that I could arrange at short notice.’
‘Great work, Capio,’ said Callidus. ‘Are the streets clear?’
‘As crystal, not a space pirate in sight.’
‘I doubt they’ve gone far.’ Callidus stood up. ‘Let’s make our move before they realise Jake isn’t in the monastery.’
Capio grabbed his bulging bag and the three of them hurried from the bar. In the street, lamp posts quivered in the wind and acid rain beat on the covered walkway like a thousand snare drums. Callidus kept a hand on his laser pistol and an eye out for danger.
Jake noticed people standing at their windows and doorways, all looking in the same direction. He followed their gaze across to Temple Hill.
‘No!’ he cried.
To his horror, the monastery was on fire, its stone walls engulfed in flames. As he watched, the single tower collapsed in the heat, its beacon still pulsing in the night. Jake instinctively took a step towards the hill, before Callidus pulled him back.
‘There’s nothing you can do.’
Jake knew he was right. It would be foolish to return there now. There was no sign of the space pirates, but it could easily be a trap. The cyber-monks had given their lives to save him and Jake was determined not to waste their sacrifice.
Capio led them through the space docks, which seemed strange and daunting at night. The streets were full of creepy shadows and creaking jetties. Jake stayed close to Callidus, shivering with a mixture of cold and shock, still expecting to run into the space pirates at any moment.
The walkway seemed to go on forever before Capio stopped at a small jetty where an old cargo hauler rested in the darkness. Its silhouette looked like a stuffed bird ready for roasting, and as they got nearer Jake saw that its plump hull was coated in space barnacles and starweed. He had seen this ship before, but he had never bothered to draw such a rusting antique.
‘This is the Dark Horse,’ said Capio. ‘I know it looks a little shabby, but I’ve been assured it’s spaceworthy.’
‘Dark Horse?’ scoffed Callidus. ‘More like Fat Duck. I suppose it will have to do.’
‘It’s not that bad,’ insisted Capio, producing three passes from his coat pocket. ‘We’ve travelled on a lot worse over the years. Do you remember that long-distance freighter in the third solar system?’
‘Don’t remind me.’
As they walked under the cargo hauler, a loading ramp lowered and two men emerged, both of them wearing faded green flight suits. The first was a young man with bronze skin and scruffy black hair. The other was much larger with pale skin, grizzled hair and huge arms. Neither of them had shaved in days.
‘My name’s Farid and I’m the first mate on this ship,’ said the younger man, collecting the passes. ‘This is Kodan, our master-at-arms. He’s responsible for keeping the peace on board. Kodan doesn’t speak much, but I wouldn’t recommend upsetting him. He’s not a patient man and he’s been known to throw people out of airlocks.’
Kodan grinned, as though recalling a fond memory.
‘Charming,’ muttered Callidus.
‘The captain of the Dark Horse is Granny Leatherhead,’ said Farid. ‘But you won’t get to meet her, because you’ll be confined to your quarters for the duration of the journey. We’re cargo haulers by trade and we don’t want passengers wandering about the ship. Is that clear?’
Callidus and Capio nodded in agreement, but Jake didn’t like the idea of being shut away for days. Farid seemed to notice him for the first time.
‘What’s wrong with your eyes, boy?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ said Jake. ‘I have excellent vision.’
Farid opened his mouth to say something else, but then changed his mind.
‘Ahoy there, m-m-mateys,’ stuttered a muscular, dark-skinned man, leaning out of the cargo hold. ‘Hey, Farid, who are these p-p-people?’
‘Passengers.’
‘Oh no, n-n-not again,’ groaned the shipmate, who had thick dreadlocks and gold teeth. ‘Granny Leatherhead is going to go m-m-mad. You know what she thinks about taking on p-p-passengers.’
‘It’ll be OK. These people are paying good money,’ said Farid. ‘Now, seeing as you’re here, Woorak, you can show our guests to their room on the lower deck.’
The ship was no more impressive inside than it was outside. Its cargo hold was cold and damp, with poor lighting and rusting walls. The floor grating had suffered from years of wear and the air reeked of engine oil. It reminded Jake of the scrapyard at the space docks.
As they walked through a maze of aluminium containers, Jake noticed words scratched into the hold wall. He took a closer look and discovered at least fifty names carved into the rusting metal. Where had he heard of Machete Morgan and Nico Ninetails before?
Woorak led them through an open hatchway and along a narrow corridor. His footsteps were heavy and there was something strange about the way he dragged his feet.
‘Is that what happens to people who spend too much time in space?’ whispered Jake.
‘He’s wearing gravity boots,’ said Callidus. ‘The crew have magnets attached to the soles of their feet to stop them floating around in space. It’s why the floors are metal.’
Jake was surprised. ‘I thought that most ships used artificial-gravity systems.’
‘Most modern ships do, but not everyone can afford such expensive equipment.’
The
y passed a door labelled Engine Room and stopped next to four smaller hatches.
‘Here we are, valued g-g-guests,’ said Woorak. ‘These are the guest quarters. They sleep f-f-four to a room. Meals are provided three times a day, not that there’s such a thing as day in space, only n-n-night, but we like to keep a routine. I suggest you get strapped in quick, because we’re about to t-t-take off.’
The shipmate opened one of the hatch doors and stood next to it with his hand open, as though expecting a tip. Callidus and Capio ignored him and entered the room.
‘Thanks,’ said Jake politely, before darting through the opening behind them.
Woorak closed the hatch with a scowl and skulked back up the corridor empty-handed.
The room was exceptionally small, with copper pipes lining the ceiling. It contained two bunk beds, a tin washbasin and pull-out toilet. Acid rain lashed the porthole window, casting liquid shadows across the wall. It was like a prison cell, not somewhere you would pay to stay. Jake climbed on to one of the narrow beds and strapped himself in. The mattress was hard and the pillow stank like old socks.
As he lay there, nightmarish images of the monastery attack flashed before his eyes. He wondered if the space pirates knew he had escaped. Were they searching the space docks for him at that very moment? What if they were waiting to spacejack the cargo hauler as it left the planet?
An amber light flashed above their heads and a siren wailed. Was that a good sign? Jake hoped it was the launch signal. His heart beat faster as he listened to the loading ramp close beneath them. He felt both anxious and excited to be leaving the planet. Was the ship supposed to be making all of those noises? How safe was space travel? After all, the last time he was up there, his father’s ship had crashed. He checked his straps to ensure they were fastened tight.
The engines fired up and Jake’s entire body tensed. It was like caged thunder being released into the night. He gripped the mattress and braced himself. Any second now, the crew would switch the engine to full throttle and release the thrusters. Any second now, the Dark Horse would rise up into the sky. Any second now, Jake would head into outer space for the adventure of his life.