Space Plague

by Zac Harrison

  Mordant rolled his eyes. “Use your brain,” he said. “We need a ship with a docking system we can attach the pod to, and that can carry us a long way into the nebula. A nebula-diving pod can only last about thirty minutes in a core before beginning to degrade, so the closer we get, the better. By my calculations, the ship will have to withstand temperatures of more than two thousand degrees. Plus, Hyperspace High is in quarantine. We’re surrounded by the Galactic Fleet. We need something super-fast or we won’t stand a chance of outrunning them.”

  John nodded. For the first time, it occurred to him that there might be some advantages to working alongside Mordant Talliver. Whatever else he might be, the half-Gargon was fiercely intelligent: a walking encyclopaedia of facts and figures.

  “Which ship?” John asked.

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “Oh.”

  Mordant gave him a sharp look. “You just worry about the nebula-diver. I’ll find us a ship.”

  “Deck three.” The TravelTube’s doors opened. John stuck his head round the corner. Deck three housed the third-year dormitories and additional canteens. At the end of the corridor an Examiner passed, herding a group of students to their rooms.

  “Get back,” John hissed, pushing Mordant in the chest to stop him running out into the passage. He peered around again. The Examiner had passed. “Coast’s clear!” he announced.

  “Now!” said Mordant, pushing G-Vez out of the TravelTube, in the direction of the Examiners. As G-Vez drifted down the corridor, Mordant breathed, “Let’s not hang about here,” and dashed off towards the hanger deck.

  John was surprised at how easy it was to get to the hangar deck unseen. Hyperspace High seemed almost completely deserted. He and Mordant had to stop once as some Meteor Medics passed, but they were obviously on their way to a new case of the flu and showed no interest in the two fugitives. After dashing down emergency stairs and rarely used corridors, the unlikely pair was soon standing outside a set of vast, heavily bolted double doors that led onto the main hangar.

  “Locked!” John fumed, bending over the electronic keypad. “I should have known. The ship’s in quarantine; no craft is allowed to leave.”

  “It’s not a problem,” Mordant said, pushing past. To John’s amazement, he tapped the keypad rapidly. Immediately, bolts slid back. And with a clank of metal, the doors opened.

  “How on Earth did you do that?”

  Mordant glanced back over his shoulder as he strode through the doors. “I have my ways.”

  “But that’s a high-security code.”

  “Just get the pod, John. I’ll meet you in ship bay gamma.” Mordant strode away in the direction of the ship bays, where Hyperspace High’s spacecraft were kept when not in use.

  Pausing to close the doors behind them, John raced away in the opposite direction. Fortunately, with all access to the hangar deck sealed off, no one had bothered to lock the storage area. John opened it, pulling out his ThinScreen to double-check what he was actually looking for. He had never seen a nebula-diving pod before. Inside the storage area were Hyperspace High’s smallest ships – star surfers, speed racers, and observation chambers, stacked neatly in rows. John started searching the first row. He found what he was looking for at the end of the third.

  The pod was a simple-looking machine. Resembling a large bullet made of shining silver, it was about three metres long with small engines at the rear, stubby wings, a domed cockpit, and small suction holes for particle collection near its nose. The Hyperspace High logo was emblazened across its shell in red letters. From his quick ThinScreen cram session, John knew it was a fully independent craft able to operate in regions that would fry any normal ship. It carried almost no electronic circuits of any kind, just the most basic for communications and navigation, all of which was shielded to protect it from radiation. Even so, the heavily armoured little craft could only protect him from the intense furnace of a nebula core for half an hour. After that, the heat inside would become too intense for his body to survive.

  As quickly as he could, John found a robotic GravLifter and moved it under the pod. At the press of a button, the GravLifter’s arms extended upward, grabbing the tiny craft with a clunk and moving it out of its storage compartment. John grabbed the GravLifter’s towing handle and twisted. The heavy machine lifted off the floor on anti-grav pads, allowing him to pull it easily back towards the main hangar.

  John found Mordant standing in the middle of ship bay gamma, arms and tentacles hugging his body, staring up at a spaceship John had never seen before. Slightly bigger than private jets on Earth, it was sleekly beautiful. From a sharp nose, it flowed back in curves to sweeping wings fit with vast, powerful-looking engines. Flaming red, the ship looked as though someone had polished every millimetre of its surface. It gleamed under the hangar lights. There wasn’t a single mark on it.

  John whistled as he stopped beside Mordant. “Wowsers. What is that?” he breathed.

  Mordant’s head turned. For a moment, he looked surprised to see John and a sneer crossed his face. Then, he seemed to remember why he was in the hangar deck. “Sergeant Jegger’s Talios 720,” he said. “It’s his pride and joy, and it costs a fortune. Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  John stared, his jaw dropping open. “Sergeant Jegger’s private ship?” he gasped. “You have got to be kidding me. We can’t take that.”

  “It’s the only ship I could find that can handle the temperature and has a dock. Jegger’s got the flu; he’s not going to mind.”

  “But we’ll get expelled for certain if we take it.”

  Mordant raised an eyebrow. “Whatever ship we take, it’s pretty certain we’re going to be expelled,” he answered. “Disobeying an Examiner, breaking into a sealed security area, stealing a spaceship, leaving Hyperspace High without permission... Do you want me to go on?”

  “I get the point,” John said, drily. He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I flunked Hyperspace History anyway. One way or another I won’t be coming back next term.”

  “Any other day I’d be overjoyed,” Mordant replied. “But it’s looking like neither of us will be here next term. Come on, let’s get the nebula-diver docked.”

  When the pod had been attached to the docking mechanism, the two boys climbed up the steps of Sergeant Jegger’s Talios 720. Inside, the ship was as beautiful as it was on the outside: all deep, plush seats and gleaming technology. Mordant handed John a bulky flightsuit and helmet.

  “Should help protect us in the nebula,” Mordant replied, pulling a suit over his own uniform.

  John changed quickly. The suit was bulky but felt light and John found he could move easily in it. After pulling on boots and gauntlets, he fastened the helmet and walked to the cockpit. As he sat in the pilot’s chair, an automatic harness strapped around his body. For a few moments, he forgot about Zhaldarian Flu as his gaze swept across the impressive control panel.

  “This ship is awesome,” he whispered.

  “Yeah, and who said you were going to fly it?” said Mordant behind him.

  Spinning the command chair round, John looked into the visor of Mordant’s helmet. “As you are constantly pointing out to me,” he said evenly, “I am pretty awful at Galactic Geography, but I’m a good pilot. It makes sense that you navigate while I do the flying.”

  Pointing out his own failings seemed to convince Mordant. With a grunt, he dropped into the co-pilot’s seat. “Get on with it then,” he snapped.

  “OK, pre flight checks and taxi out into the main hanger.” With confident expertise, John’s fingers flicked over the controls. “Let’s see what this machine can do.”

  Engines growled, sending a rich shudder through the Talios 720. With mounting excitement, John released the safety brakes allowing the ship to roll out of the ship bay and onto the main deck. “Ready for take-off?” he asked, glancing at Mordant.

  “Yup.”
The half-Gargon busied himself at the astrometric controls, bringing up star charts and plotting a course for the Zaleta Nebula.

  “Drat.” John pulled back on the controls quickly. The engine noise dropped.

  “What? What’s wrong?”

  “We forgot about that.”

  Mordant’s gaze followed John’s finger. Ahead were the massive bay doors, and they were firmly closed. On the other side was space, but until the doors opened, the Talios was stuck on the hanger deck.

  “Can we fly through them?” John asked.

  “No way. They’re solid mallux. You’ll just wreck Jegger’s ship and there won’t even be a scratch on the bay doors.”

  “So how do we get out of here?”

  Mordant was silent for a moment. “They’ll only open with the highest-level security clearance. My code isn’t going to get us out of here. It needs Jegger or the headmaster or the ship’s computer—”

  “I’ll handle it,” John interrupted. He reached out and punched a button on the control screen. “Zepp,” he said loudly. “Can you hear me?”

  “What are you doing?” hissed Mordant. “The ship’s computer will never let us leave—”

  John gestured at him to be silent.

  “John,” Zepp’s voice said into John’s helmet. “The Examiners are looking for you and Mordant Talliver. Why are you on Sergeant Jegger’s private ship?”

  “Zepp,” said John. “I need the biggest favour I’ve ever asked of you. I need you to open the bay doors of the main hanger deck.”

  Silence.

  “You do not have the authority to make that request,” the computer said after a few moments.

  “That’s why I asked it as a favour,” John said urgently. “Please, Zepp. Mordant and I are going to the Zaleta Nebula. There might be a cure for Zhaldarian Flu there. We’ll never get permission to leave the ship – you have to help us.”

  “As the ship’s computer, I have to follow the rules, John. You do not have the authority—”

  “I know I don’t have the authority, Zepp,” John cut in, the desperation in his voice rising. “What I do have is a friend who could open the bay doors for me. Almost everyone on board Hyperspace High has the flu. Some of them aren’t going to make it. But if we’re successful, they’ll live. All of them.”

  “It will be too dangerous. You might not survive.”

  “Listen, Zepp. I know you are programmed to keep the students on board Hyperspace High from harm at all costs. There is a risk for me and Mordant, but surely that risk is outweighed by the possibility that hundreds, perhaps thousands, of lives will be saved if we’re successful.”

  Another silence stretched out. Seconds passed.

  Come on, Zepp, John thought to himself furiously. Come on, come on, come on...

  Finally, the computer spoke. “You are correct. My source code forbids me to harm students,” Zepp said. “If opening the doors will prevent suffering, then my programme must execute your request.”

  As John watched, the giant bay doors began to slide open, slowly revealing the stars beyond.

  “Good luck, John,” Zepp said as the Talios’s engines roared into life again. “You, too, Mordant. Be careful.”

  Chapter 13

  Its jets burning, the Talios 720 blasted through the bay doors and into space. Feeling raw power thrumming through the ship, John moved the control stick, intending to steer away from the massive shape of Hyperspace High. Instead, the Talios spun crazily.

  “What are you doing?” yelled Mordant as they whirled.

  John twitched the control stick, righting the craft. Pressing the power panel, he sent the ship soaring into space. “Sorry,” he muttered. “These controls are way more sensitive than a t-dart’s.”

  “I knew I should have insisted on flying.”

  John bit back a prickly response. “Which way?” he asked instead.

  “I’m plotting a course now,” Mordant replied in a businesslike tone. “Take a heading zero-eight-six-three-nine into the Omega Region. There are a few obstructions, but nothing serious and then I can give you an almost direct path. For the next few light years there’s nothing but clear black space, so you can kick up the speed.”

  “Got it,” replied John. With a glance at the astrometrics screen, he carefully pulled the Talios round onto a new course and powered up the hyperspace drive.

  “Uh-oh,” Mordant interrupted. “Looks like we’ve got company. Galactic Fleet.”

  “Let’s see if we can outrun them. Jumping to hyperspace on my mark. In three... two... one... mark.”

  “Oh... my... whoaaaah!” John yelped, as the Talios leapt forward like a missile. Any jump to hyperspace meant a huge surge of energy and speed, but Sergeant Jegger’s ship was beyond anything John had ever experienced. With a deep, throaty roar, the engines flung the Talios forward at a speed that pressed John back in the pilot’s seat, as he struggled to keep the control stick steady.

  “I have got to get my dad to buy me one of these,” Mordant murmured.

  Inside his helmet, John raised his eyebrows. Over the summer holidays John’s dad had bought him a new skateboard. And he made me do a load of weeding to get it, he thought to himself.

  The half-Gargon boy interrupted his thoughts. “Trouble: those ships jumped with us. They’re still on our tail.”

  Before he’d even finished speaking, the communications system crackled. “This is Captain Lassco of the Galactic Fleet,” a voice boomed in John’s ear. “Pilot of the Talios 720 out of Hyperspace High, identify yourself.”

  “Rats,” John muttered.

  “Repeat: ship out of Hyperspace High, identify yourself.”

  John flipped a switch to open the channel. “John Riley,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “A student from Hyperspace High. We’re just—”

  “All traffic to and from Hyperspace High is suspended by order of the Galactic Council,” interrupted Captain Lassco. “It’s a quarantine zone. Turn your ship around and return to Hyperspace High immediately, John Riley.”

  “Sorry, captain, no can do. We’re on our way to find a cure for Zhaldarian Flu.”

  “You do not have clearance for your mission. Turn your ship around.”

  John cut the communications. Turning to Mordant, he asked, “Can we outrun them?”

  Mordant shrugged. “They’re flying Blaze-Class Fighters. Very, very fast. They’ll match our speed. Plus, they’re Galactic Fleet-trained pilots.”

  Without hesitation, John flicked the communications switch again. “Negative, Captain Lassco,” he said. “We’re not turning around. We’re trying to save lives here.”

  “They’re almost on us,” said Mordant, panic creeping into his voice.

  “This is your last warning, John Riley,” said Lassco. “Turn your ship around and return to Hyperspace High, or I will be forced to open fire. The Galactic Council will not risk the flu spreading. Billions of lives are at stake.”

  “There’s no chance of infection. We’re going—”

  “Don’t tell them where we’re going,” hissed Mordant. ”We’ll never get rid of them.”

  “We’re not going anywhere near any inhabited planets,” John continued. “Call off your ships.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, John saw two streaks stream past the port side of the Talios – both steaks John recognized as X-11 missiles. In a massive burst, they exploded in front of the Talios.

  “That was a warning shot, John Riley. Turn your ship around.”

  John’s fingers swiftly moved across the power controls. “Sorry, Captain Lassco, I just can’t do that,” he said, as he pulled the Talios into an accelerating swoop away from the following Blaze-Class Fighters.

  “They’re following... weapons fire!” Mordant barked.

  John jerked the control stick. The Talios rolled, as
two more X-11 missiles exploded close by.

  “Give me a new heading,” he said through gritted teeth. His hand reached out again, pushing the ship to maximum speed while he guided it into a complex manoeuvre of evasive twists and rolls.

  Another close explosion shook the ship.

  “Where to?” Mordant yelled.

  “Anywhere I can shake them off.”

  Mordant leaned over his control panel, his fingers a blur as he scanned star charts. “There’s an asteroid field at heading two-nine-eight-three-four.”

  John was already pushing the control stick. It’s engines screaming, the Talios swerved away. From the corner of his eye, John saw two blips on the sensor screen immediately turn to follow.

  “Incoming!” shouted Mordant.

  The Talios spun as more missiles streaked past. John fought for control as they detonated, rocking the ship.

  “The pilots are too good!” Mordant yelled. “You’re not going to lose them.”

  Ignoring this, John shouted, “How far to the asteroid field?’

  Mordant swung back to his screens. “A million kilometres and closing fast. Slow down, John.”

  “No!” shouted John.

  “You can’t go through an asteroid field at hyperspace speed,” gasped Mordant. “It’s suicidal.”

  “It’s the only way to get them off our tail!” John shouted back. “Hold on.”

  “You won’t even be able to see... gaaaaah!” Wrapping his tentacles around his head, Mordant ducked down in his seat.

  Unblinking, John stared ahead, moving the control stick with lightning reflexes. Darting and rolling, the spaceship skimmed past a blur of giant whirling boulders of ice and rock.

  “Mordant, we’re through!” he yelled seconds later. “Did they slow down? Are we clear of them?”

  Still making choking noises, Mordant unwrapped his tentacles from his head and leaned over the screen. He gasped. “No. They came through at the same speed as you... You’re all insane.”

  John cursed.

  “They’re charging antimatter blasters!” shrieked Mordant.