by Ross Welford
‘It would appear, Ethan, that the mission to return your sister has somewhat misfired. The other conspirators – the so-called “Hearters” – have been arrested and short-sleeped. A Hearter called Kallan has betrayed Hellyann, and Iggy has been captured, presumably to be taken to Earth Zone. That, at any rate, is how I understood the conversation that took place.’
I slump down on the bench seat and try to take all of this in.
‘Is … is that how Tammy was captured? Made to collapse like that?’
‘That is probable, Ethan. That large Assistant Advisor with the dark stripe of hair? She’s a Hunter, and vicious with it.’
‘But they don’t know I’m here?’ I say, seeking reassurance.
‘No, Ethan. They were expecting Hellyann on her own, so when she emerged with Iggy that will have startled them. I promptly shut the door so that they would not see you.’
‘Just give me a moment, Philip,’ I say.
I take some deeper breaths. Those breaths turn ragged, and I slide off the bench on to the floor. I stay there for a long time with my eyes clammed shut with exhaustion and tears that will not come.
Finally, I open my eyes, and wipe my nose on my sleeve and I realise with a lead-heavy heart that I am still in the spaceship a gazillion-illion miles from home.
I am exhausted – truly empty of all energy and all emotion, especially hope. I can barely summon the strength to say, ‘Philip?’
‘Yes, Ethan?’
I pause. This is hard to say. ‘Can you take me home?’
‘Is that what you want?’
This is even harder. I think of Iggy, stuck here on this alien planet. My sister too. I will never see them again.
But what can I do? I’m one boy. I can’t take on a whole alien civilisation.
I close my eyes, and take a breath.
‘Yes,’ I say.
‘Very well, Ethan. Strap yourself in.’
Come on, don’t judge me. I have no choice. I am alone here. I cannot stay.
I think of Mam and Dad and what I will tell them.
‘I got close. Really I did. At least we know Tammy is alive. I did my best.’
I think of Gran. The last time I saw her she was running through a snowy forest, pursued by a man with a shotgun.
‘Sorry, Gran. Thank you for helping. I did my best.’
What can I tell Iggy’s mum? I try it in my head.
‘Sorry, Mrs Fox-Templeton, but Iggy is now in a zoo at the other end of the universe, along with my sister Tammy. I did my best.’
It doesn’t feel good. I pull the straps around my waist and shoulders in readiness for take-off. I feel the engines (if that’s what they are) starting up. Philip has not said anything. I think he understands.
And then the vibration stops, and Philip says, very softly, ‘Stay still, Ethan, and keep quiet.’
Through the screen at the front of the cockpit, I see that one of the creatures from before has returned. It’s the one with the streak of darker hair, and her teeth are bared in an ugly grimace. She strides forward, towards the craft, and then stops, with her hands on her broad hips. She raises her long nose in the air and starts to sniff.
Her eyes dart to one side and then the other, then her nose twitches again.
She’s sniffing for me, I just know it. She crouches down where the group was standing before, and smells the floor, moving in a wide circle before standing up again and walking towards the spaceship. She walks past the screen so that I cannot see her any more, but if I strain, I can just hear her by the door.
Snff … snff-snff-snff.
I am so scared I don’t think I’m even breathing. When I feel something brush the back of my leg I think my yelp of fright gets as far as my throat before I stifle it. It’s Suzy, who I had forgotten all about, and I gather her into my arms.
The sniffing creature is back in my vision now, in front of the windscreen, walking all around the spacecraft. Suddenly she growls something, then repeats it twice, finally aiming a frustrated kick at the craft and stalking off in the direction she came from.
‘Philip?’
‘Shush.’
I wait in silence for several minutes. Finally, Philip murmurs, ‘She’s gone, Ethan, but she’ll be back.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because she told me she was not coming back. And as we know, Anthallans are very poor liars. She knows there is something inside here, and they know what humans smell like. So she’ll be coming back with others, and something to force open my doors.’
‘And then?’
‘Well, what do you think? One more Original for Earth Zone. Plus a chicken.’
I look at Suzy, and something comes back to me. Something that has been knocking around in my head like a cat in a sack.
‘I did my best’ – that was what I said to Tammy the night she disappeared.
‘You always say that!’ Tammy retorted, getting redder in the face with anger. ‘But you never do, do you? You do what looks like your best. You do what people will think is your best. You do just enough so that when you say, “But I did my best”, people will believe you and go, “Aw, poor Ethan – he did his best.” But you know what, Ethan? I know what your best is. I’m your twin, remember? I’m the other half of you. How could I not know? And you haven’t done your best – nothing like it, so don’t lie.’
Beneath my feet on the floor, I sense Philip’s vibrations starting again, and as the vibrations travel through my body, I feel something change in me.
I think about living the rest of my life without my twin: my other half.
I think about telling Cora Fox-Templeton that her son has been captured for exhibition in a zoo while I stayed hidden.
I think about my mam and my dad. And poor Gran and the whole of our village that will forever be associated in people’s minds with something sad.
The vibrations are getting stronger and stronger, and I am shaking …
And then I realise that it isn’t the vibrations. It is me. I am actually trembling. I look at my hands and they are shaking; my jaw is shivering and my teeth are chattering. And it’s all with nerves because I am terrified.
Terrified about what I am going to do – what I have to do.
‘Philip! Stop!’ I cry out.
‘Gee, you sound distressed, Ethan. What is it?’
I swallow hard and say, ‘We’re not going home. Not back to Earth.’
‘Not back to Earth, Ethan? Why not, kid?’
I take a deep breath. All of the trembling has stopped, and I stand up.
Suzy tips her head on one side and I say this as much to her as to Philip.
‘Because I haven’t done my best yet.’
You know that moment when, immediately after you have made a big decision, your shoulders feel a little lighter, you can stand a little taller and you don’t think of the problems ahead? You’re just glad you’ve made up your mind?
It only lasts for seconds.
Then Philip says, ‘I was right: here they come. If you want my advice, we need to get out of here.’
Through the front window I see six creatures, led by Dark Hair Streak, come out of the passageway, running towards the spaceship.
Philip powers up quickly and the ship vibrates.
‘Activate the VI!’ I say.
And Philip says, ‘Roger that. VI activated. But they know we’re here.’
By now our pursuers are banging on the side, and one has brought an enormous tool that he is swinging at the door.
‘That looks like a sledgehammer,’ I say, as it contacts the door with a loud clanging thud.
‘Old school,’ says Philip, ‘but effective. He’ll be through in a few more blows. You strapped in? Too bad …’
I am thrown violently against the wall of the cockpit as the spaceship lurches to one side. In front of us, and a little higher, a gap in the roof opens up – a widening slot that gets bigger as another hammer blow rocks the spaceship. I feel the craft rising from
the ground and heading slowly for the slot in the roof, which has widened sufficiently to let us through.
But then the opening starts to close.
Philip says, ‘They’ve located the roof override system. We may not make it through. Hang on!’
It’s too late to hang on to anything. Instead I am thrown to the other side of the cockpit, banging my head and elbow hard. The craft is on its side and nearly at the slot in the roof, which is surely too narrow to get through. I close my eyes to await the inevitable impact …
… And we’re through. I would sigh with relief, but I’m on the floor nursing my cracked elbow with my left hand.
‘Are we safe?’ I pant through spasms of pain.
‘For the time being,’ replies Philip. ‘I just need to run some external damage checks, and activate the … I don’t know what you would call it. It sends out a dummy signal and stops us being tracked by the Advisor. This may take a while. We’ll be cruising at a low level and there may be some sharp movements as we avoid other airborne vehicles that cannot see us.’
As he says the words, I feel the craft move abruptly to the right, and Philip says, ‘Like that.’
We straighten up. ‘You can get a great view of our country and, by the way, that was pretty cool – that thing about doing your best. It’s one of the reasons I totally dig humans. You got that whole “noble” thing goin’ on. We ain’t seen that on Anthalla for, like, centuries. Not since the Big Burn. Do you have a plan?’
‘A plan?’ I squeak. ‘What sort of a plan? Oh, yes, hang on – now that I think about it, I do have one, because I’ve often wondered what it would be like to be on a rescue mission on an alien planet with a talking spaceship.’
There is a pause, then Philip says, ‘That was sarcasm, right?’
I say nothing, but wonder if it is possible to hurt the feelings of a bot.
‘Listen, kid,’ Philip says after a moment. ‘I’m gonna take you to where this thing all started. There is a chance we could end it there.’
I am beyond arguing.
Philip interprets my silence as permission.
‘Cool. Sit back, relax and enjoy our range of gourmet snacks prepared by Anthalla’s most skilled chefs.’
‘You’re kidding!’ I say with delight. ‘That’s great news – I’m starving.’
‘You’re right. I was kidding. Call it revenge for your sarcasm. Anthallans don’t really have taste buds like you do, so there’s no need for chefs, skilled or otherwise. You’ll find water and greest in the little locker behind your head. It’s safe for humans.’
I gaze out of the front screen at the ground below. It is daytime and the sky is pure white with cloud. Stretching as far as I can see, ahead and to the right, are small, flat-topped rectangles of grey-beige, arranged in rigid lines. To my left, the little boxes stop in a line before a flat expanse of steel-grey which, I guess, is the sea.
Every now and then there is a square gap in the boxes – perhaps as big as a couple of football fields – and I can see people – well, Anthallans – gathered together and walking to and fro on the black surface. Then the boxes start again, row after row of them. There are hardly any trees. There are no brightly lit billboards, or skyscrapers glinting in the sun, or silver rivers winding through the city.
The whole thing looks as though it is made from Lego: black, grey, white and beige. And it stretches on, and on, and on.
I get up and look for the opening that Philip said contained food. Even the thought of food is making my mouth water. I think of Mam’s pies from the pub: golden, crispy pastry and creamy mash with thick gravy. Or Gran’s hot chocolate, especially when she does squirty cream on the top. I have to swallow my saliva, I’m drooling so much …
There is a small square door cut into the back of the cabin. I touch it and it pops open, a blast of cold air coming from within, to reveal little blocks of greyish-white.
‘We call it greest,’ says Philip. ‘It is a plant-based synthetic food that contains all the nutrients required for health.’
‘So you grow it?’ I touch a cube with my tongue.
‘We … they … manufacture it. It is pretty much all they eat. It is perfect food. The humans in the Earth Zone all eat it. It’s fine.’
I am still looking warily at it, even though I could probably eat a horse and its saddle, I am that hungry. I put a square in my mouth and chew. It tastes of absolutely nothing, but it’s not horrible. It’s a bit like tofu. I finish my cube, then take a few more, then a few more until I feel the pain in my stomach receding.
‘Is this all they have to eat?’ I ask Philip in wonder.
Philip replies, ‘Yes. It is satisfactory. Whoops, tracker beam incoming – I’ve gotta shut down the verbals or they’ll interfere with the anti-tracker thing …’
The craft lurches slightly then rights itself, and Philip is silent.
With a belly that’s full for the first time in what seems like days, I feel drowsy.
Eventually, I am bored of looking at the unimaginable dullness of the city below me; my eyelids feel heavy and I fall into the deepest sleep.
When I awake, the craft is still. It has landed and the front section has retracted so that I can feel the real heat of the sun on my face, and a light breeze. The Lego boxes are nowhere to be seen. Instead I am looking at trees: pine trees, towering Douglas firs and twisty ash. There are densely packed bushes, and the floor is carpeted with dry pine needles and mossy rocks. I take a deep breath in through my nose. It smells exactly like home, only warmer … drier. The blanket of cloud has cleared. A strong sun shines in a blue sky, and a stiff, warm breeze agitates the trees’ branches.
I close my eyes again and sigh with a deep sadness at the realisation that I have been dreaming. I don’t really want to open them again because I’d like to keep the image fresh of the deep, rich forest greens and rusty browns of the tree trunks …
‘Ethan?’ It is Philip’s voice.
Perhaps I can just stay here in this dream, I wonder to myself, and I take another deep sniff of home.
‘Hey, kid? Open your eyes, buddy.’
It is not a dream.
Blinking in the sunlight, I look around. The line of trees stretches out either side of me. Behind me is the barren, grey wasteland. Running my tongue around my mouth, there is a faint residue of the stuff I ate before.
‘Where are we?’ I ask.
‘This, my friend, is the perimeter woodland of Earth Zone. Five hundred metres thick, and stretching for a few kilometres in each direction.’
I stand up and step out of the craft, flexing my elbow and wincing. It has swollen up badly while I was asleep, but I am much more interested in the woods directly in front of me.
‘Wow. These are the first trees I’ve seen here. Well, the first normal ones.’
‘That’s because they are pretty much the only ones. They’re confined to the Earth Zone, where they can grow wild and … kinda messy. Other than here, we haven’t had trees growing wild since the Big Burn.’
Even so, there’s something not quite right about the forest. It’s too dry. There are patches of brown on the trees and the ground is brown and grey rather than green and lush.
‘Why is it so dry?’
‘Drought season. All of the weather inside the zone is controlled. They experiment with different extreme conditions, you know? Heavy snow, excessive rainfall, that sort of thing.’
I step forward and Philip says, ‘No further. The whole thing is protected by a … by a … what would you say? A Proton-positive Force Field?’
I shrug. ‘I guess. An invisible shield?’
‘Yes. Exactly. You might want to watch that chicken. The reason we are here is that there is a temporary gap in the force field, created by Kallan a few days ago. Think of it like cutting a hole in a chain-link fence. But I don’t think your chicken knows where the gap is.’
Suzy is pecking the ground and getting closer and closer to the trees. In the next second she does her little h
op-flap and gets much too near.
I call out, ‘Suzy!’ and, without thinking of the possible consequences, I run towards her.
Big mistake. She doesn’t know me like she knows Iggy, and as I approach with my arms outstretched to grab her, she leaps away in alarm, flaps her wings and heads straight for the trees.
‘No, Suzy! Stop!’ I shout.
It’s too late. There’s a flash of white light and a sizzling noise where she hits the force field.
To my horror, instead of bouncing off, as though she has hit a wall, the speed of her approach carries her through, towards the trees, and there is a pitiful squawk as a flaming, smouldering ball of feathers hits the ground and rolls and rolls out of sight into the undergrowth.
‘No! No! Suzy!’
I want to run forward to get her, but I can feel the prickling of the force field and I have to retreat. I slump on to the ground in dismay. In trying to save her, I have killed my best friend’s pet. I scan the branches and undergrowth and all I can see is little wisps of smoke, and a lick of flame here and there where Suzy’s burning feathers caught the bone-dry leaves on the ground.
‘I’m sorry, Ethan,’ says Philip’s voice from behind me. For a bot, he sounds pretty genuine.
Getting wearily to my feet, I stare angrily at the place where poor Suzy hit the shield – there is still a whitish patch where she went through – and in frustration I pick up a stone and throw it hard. It sails through the patch and pings off a tree, and then the white patch slowly disappears, closing up as though it is healing.
If I am expecting this to make me despair, however, it doesn’t. Something changed in me earlier when I decided that I would get Tammy and Iggy back. The death of a chicken is not going to stop me.
‘Philip?’ I say. ‘How do I get in there?’
‘I like your style, captain,’ says Philip. ‘Like I say – there’s a gap. If we can find it. Or you may wanna try the main entrance. It’s the only other way.’
Having seen the fate of Suzy, I am not at all keen on trying the force field, gap or no gap.