Farnham's Legend: The beginning of the X-Universe saga (X Games Book 1)

by Helge T. Kautz

  He hit the cargo-bay floor at speed and detached himself from the safety line. The moment he pushed the button to close the doors it began: with the sound of chalk on a chalkboard, the crack in his visor began to expand. This time, however it did not stop after a couple of seconds but progressed inexorably to the margin. As the bay doors closed, with vacuum still remaining in the room, Kyle heard the final, fatal snap. The helmet did not burst, but the painful cracking in his ears made it all too clear that the air was now escaping his suit quickly. There was nothing he could do. The cargo bays' valves had already started venting air into the hold; it was still thin, but already Kyle could hear the remote whisper of incoming air.

  After a few more seconds the pressure equalised and Kyle groggily removed the helmet to prod his aching ears while gasping in the thin air. Half a minute later there was sufficient oxygen in the room to breath normally. Kyle held his nose and swallowed a few times to complete the pressure equalisation. Then he noticed his feet started aching, like being penetrated by a thousand needles. The air appeared to be hot, compared to the outside temperatures but he just laughed. "Alright!" he shouted while removing his space suit to massage his aching feet.

  "Why hasn't the USC sent a salvage ship to rescue me yet?" he wondered, speaking to himself.

  "Unknown", a female voice answered. Kyle felt a stab of alarm and then relaxed again. Of course! Valerie!

  "Val, you've no idea how glad I am to hear your voice!" "Thank you, Captain Brennan" the onboard computer replied. "I am very glad that you too did not take any damage while my systems were off-line!" Kyle smiled sceptically and nodded. Sure! AI research had come a long way but computers still could not comprehend pleasure. Still it was nice to hear Valerie say it anyway.

  "Status - but make it brief," he ordered. Valerie, whose voice he heard last counting down just before the accident reacted promptly, but Kyle interrupted the computer before it could even start. "I need gravity in the cargo bay please!"

  He felt his organs sink and the floor began to feel like the floor again. Various small floating items fell to the deck with a clatter. Yes, gravity felt good.

  "Okay, once more. Status", Kyle ordered again, sitting on the floor massaging his feet.

  "Outer hull damaged, power supply to shields and lasers disrupted. Redundancy systems I and II non-operational. Singularity engine ejected, cockpit integrity compromised, navigation array failed. Life support systems nominal, Podkletnov Aggregates and M/AM propulsion functional. Computer undamaged, internal systems ok, Damage estimate - minor. Repair requirements - minor."

  "Minor!" Kyle spluttered, enraged. "You call this minor? Good Lord! What would you call heavy damage, then?"

  Valerie did not respond.

  "Alright, let me think…" Kyle muttered after a while. He had bought himself some time, nothing more. The cockpit leak was still there and his helmet useless, trapping him in the cargo bay. On the other hand, the USC tracking station must still have him on radar and Valerie would soon announce the arrival of the USC Eldridge to salvage his ship. "Damn", Kyle muttered again, he did not like to sit down and do nothing.

  He looked around; the cargo bay was barren and empty. The emergency control panel showed that mission telemetry was still broadcast out into the depths of space but a tiny flashing red light warned the receiving station was off-line. That was odd. Had they lost contact with Mission Control in Milano? It could only mean the ship had taken more damage than Valerie had reported, but perhaps this was owing to the fact that he had asked the on-board computer for a concise version of the status report. Kyle frowned and scratched his chin.

  "Valerie, I need some info on the cockpit leak. What size is it? Where is it? Am I able to patch it?"

  "The leak is beneath the third floor tile left, seventh from the back. The position matches that of the damaged area in the outer hull. Cockpit integrity is compromised over a 0.5 cm area. Repairs not critical."

  "Hmm… Val, my space suit is damaged. Can you raise and maintain the pressure in the cockpit for a few minutes so I can patch the leak?"

  "Yes, I can do it."

  "Great. I'll open the inner and outer air lock door between cockpit and cargo bay. The pressure between the two rooms should equalize instantly. It'll crack my ears a bit but there should be enough pressure to work. Maintain this state for as long as it takes to locate and patch the leak."

  "Understood", Valerie responded.

  It took Kyle less than five minutes to remove the floor tile, move squashed layers of cables to the side and locate the leak. It was tiny and exactly where he had seen the big hole in the outer hull and he found it hard to believe that, with the force involved, no greater damage had resulted from the impact. He took another two minutes to place the semi-elastic vacuum-proof polymer patch and sealing foam on the leak. The glue and foam hardened in a matter of minutes with the internal pressure of the cockpit keeping the patch in place. As far as modern materials research went, there would never again be a leak right at this spot, ever.

  When Kyle replaced the floor tile the cabin pressure was already back to normal and the temperature pleasant. Even his feet had stopped hurting.

  "Time for a beer mate," he said to himself, slumping into the pilot seat. Valerie's speech interpreter was trained to recognize and not respond to rhetorical comments and so she refrained from reminding him of the unavailability of alcoholic beverages on experimental spacecraft. But it was not in Kyle William Brennan's nature to remain idle anyway, and with the immediate danger past there were still things to be done. He had to determine his position, activate the automatic emergency beacon, contact Mission Control, and maybe even locate a salvage ship. Possibly, using the powerful M/AM engine he could even make it back to base by himself.

  After approximately four frustrating hours in which he was unable to even determine his position, Valerie announced an approaching ship.

  "About time!" Kyle exclaimed enthusiastically. The ship was 23,000 km away but closing fast and he used the electronic zoom to get a closer look. He spent another 20 minutes trying to identify the silhouette of the ship but failed. It obviously was not the USC Eldridge, which meant it had to be the USC Koyama, a new salvage vessel that was in service only for a few weeks and whose specs were still unfamiliar to him.

  A very peculiar feeling began to creep over him when the magnified image became clearer and he could recognize more detail. At below 300 kilometres distance his suspicion hardened into certainty. This was neither the USC Koyama nor the USC Eldridge. In fact, it was none of the known USC salvage and servicing ships at all. This ship had not even been built in the solar system.

  It was then that the Comm. System indicated an incoming transmission.

  CHAPTER 10

  Be yourself, don't dissemble. Sounds easy? Well, it's not. Nothing's more difficult!

  Apholia Hilduns

  Lecturer at the PTA, Argon Prime

  Ceo Ssuphandros Mikimades Isemados III crouched, unmoving on the seating table, his claws folded under his chin whilst he stared at his grandchildren with seeming amusement. His posture suggested he was cool and relaxed - but Nopileos knew only too well that the Ceo was anything but cool, relaxed or amused. He just possessed an astonishing level of self-control.

  Teacher Wohalimis sat to the Ceo's left. "Rotten eggs!" he whispered, nervously fluttering his nostrils after Nopileos had finished his account. Sissandras also felt uneasy and his face had turned an unnatural light green that matched the unhappy Hegebalios. He tried without success to sink into his seat and as this didn't work he attempted to appear unconcerned. His colouration and posture however still gave him away.

  After a while the Ceo pointed at Nopileos with his fore claw. "So", he said. "You've transferred 18 billion credits to the Boron Orphan Fund then, oh grandson Nopileos. Have I understood correctly?"

  Nopileos waggled his scale crest in confirmation and boldly looked him in the eye. "Yes, grandfather Ceo."

  The Ceo was old, although not
ancient. His scales were a weather-beaten dark green-brown, and the yellow of his pupils were tinged with the red of age but he radiated a tremendous energy, and with each remark he conveyed the firm impression that his mind remained as keen as a honed blade. Isemados was known to be very unconventional and after his nomination, many decazuras ago, his opponents gave him a hard time but in the end he managed to overcome their resistance and led the Teladi economy to undreamed of heights. His position and judgement was now unquestionable and his name pronounced only with deep awe and respect throughout the whole Teladi Trading Company. However, many Teladi meeting the Ceo for the first time were still surprised by his unusual personality. Nopileos, who had known him for his whole life, also paid respect to the Ceo, however he held a clearer idea as to what to make of him.

  Ceo Isemados flared his nostrils, almost imperceptibly. "You are aware that the whole annual budget of the Queendom of Boron is less than 18 billion credits?"

  "Tsss-uhmm, nnnno", Nopileos hissed embarrassedly. As if that made any difference!

  The Ceo waggled his ears. "And what do you have to tell me, oh grandson Sissandras?"

  Sissandras winced noticeably and tried to sink deeper into the seating table. "I, oh…" he hesitated, reached for his ear and started to twiddle it hectically between two fingers while he blurted, "err, well, I've told my colleague Nopileos…"

  "Your brother," the Ceo suggested.

  "Ah… tssk…" Sissandras shot Nopileos an outraged glance. "Well, yes. Yes, on principle, yes!" he confirmed, even more discomfited. "I've told my… egg-brother… Nopileos not to do anything about it in any case, but only to switch off my AutoBroker and bring it back. I - I'm really not responsible for his actions… ssssssk!"

  "So you're telling me, oh grandson Sissandras, that you endorsed your egg-brother Nopileos stealing a shuttle in order to fly to the Boron spiral which the two of you had discovered quite some time ago and - in contradiction to any company policy - kept secret, on a little solo jaunt just to bring back your AutoBroker?"

  "So… to… speak," Sissandras whispered, rather embarrassed by the interpretation the Ceo put on the events.

  "Crushed eggs," lecturer Wohalimis muttered softly.

  The Ceo fixed the nervous teacher with a harsh stare. "Colleague Wohalimis. As your only contributions consist of continual cursing I'd like to request you leave me alone with my grandchild for the time being."

  "Sorry, colleague Ceo, but I...

  "I'm insisting on it. And Sissandras, please accompany the colleague lecturer and wait outside."

  Sissandras happily obeyed. He was desperate to escape from an embarrassing situation, of which he was powerless to influence in any way. Events had been torn out of his claws – he didn't feel responsible for the disastrous way things had developed and he regarded it most unfair that he too was under accusation of being involved, when it was all clearly Nopileos' fault.

  After the two had closed the door behind them, the Ceo regarded his young grandchild in silence for some moments. Nopileos could hardly believe his eyes. If he looked closely the scale crest of the old Teladi seemed slightly erect. Could it be that the old warhorse was rather amused?

  After a while the Ceo rose to his feet and shuffled over to the window, which provided almost as beautiful a view over the sea as Nopileos' secret place on the roof did. "Come over, by my side," he said. Nopileos hesitated for a moment before joining his grandfather.

  "My son, what you've done is a slap in the Company's face! And that of the Teladi people. Isn't it?"

  The young Teladi kept an embarrassed silence. Outside, in front of the window, a lonesome, screeching gullible leant into the wind and demonstrated its superior aeronautical skills in a series of daring manoeuvres.

  "Son, it may appear strange, but I like you - my sympathies and my hearts are with you!"

  Nopileos looked at the Ceo in astonishment. The scale crest of the old Ceo was completely erect now. Isemados returned Nopileos' look for a moment, hissed amusedly and then continued watching the gullible's daredevil nosedives.

  "Teladi such as you, oh Nopileos, sustain my hope that, one day, our people will be so much more than only the largest financial power in the universe. I have met Teladi heroes, poets, musicians and inventors! You wouldn't believe what I've seen during all my decazuras. But you, my youthful friend, wear all their colours – adventurer, hero – and, above all, jester!"

  Nopileos still remained silent. As much as he would have liked to respond, the fact that he had found an ally in the Ceo left him literally speechless.

  "We are Teladi, oh grandson Nopileos", the Ceo continued, "We have two stomachs, three hearts and humour, too! Our scale crests easily tell the tale! We have also an intellect, so grand and spacious that there's no need to hide it from the other peoples of the universe. Yet we prefer to remain as traders and financial expert saurians. Son…" Ceo Isemados glanced for the last time at the gullible and then put a claw on Nopileos' shoulder. "I am the Ceo, the chairman of the Teladi Company. If all continues going as well as it has, I will remain in my position for a few more decazuras. Look, I long for Teladi that are able to make free decisions. Who can become gardener, scale curists, cartoonists or reporters or… whatever they personally wish to be. But I have to walk within the laws of our people. Only very slowly, step by step, can I try to enlarge our ken. You can understand that, can't you?"

  "Yes, grandfather Ceo, I believe so. But I'm rather astonished that you of all Teladi think this way!

  "Tshh… I am the Ceo, son. Who, if not me, should be wiser and think further? But there's one thing you have to understand. What you've done was rather brave and quite to my liking. But I just can't let you have your way – if I did that they would challenge my judgement. In several decazuras many young Teladi may think like you and I would embrace it!"

  Magnetised, Nopileos waited for the Ceo's next words. He knew a verdict was looming right above him, ready to be delivered. One that would decide his future once and for all.

  "Oh grandson. I'm afraid my claws are tied; I am the Ceo and have to act within the limits of my position. Nothing else remains to be done other than to ban you from the hatchery."

  Nopileos winced. Not that he really had loved the hatchery but without a home, without credits, without Sissandras, without… yes, even without the others, what would he have?

  "I know how you're feeling now", the Ceo continued. "You will attain full business age in few mazuras and you will be legally allowed to care for yourself. Until then I will place a small ship at your disposal, but there's one condition, oh grandson Nopileos…"

  "Yes, grandfather?"

  "I want you to take care of yourself and report to me regularly. You are the future, my son, even if I'm the only one to realise this simple truth at this point. You might be the Ceo some tazura – and I want you to live to see that time. Apart from that," the Ceo closed with a whisper, "I would also like to see that."

  There was moment of deep silence until the elder one continued. "My decision is effective immediately – there's still time to bid farewell to your egg-brother and your friends and to pack your possessions. A shuttle will pick you up from here tomorrow at sunset. It will take you to the shipyard in the system Seizewell, where my private yacht is currently being reconditioned and re-equipped. I'm going to loan it to you until further notice – may it take you to the places your hearts desire." With these words, the Ceo tilted his head and winked at his egg-grandson. He left the faculty room without turning around.

  Nopileos still stood at the window for some moments and gazed out, unable to maintain rational thought. Fragments of memories and unfamiliar feelings raced through his head - names, events and the sense that a huge black hole was opening to swallow him. If Teladi were able to cry, tears would have filled his yellow saurian eyes at this moment.

  A few sezuras later he heard the door open and felt his egg-brother Sissandras resting an arm around his shoulder.

  CHAPTER 11

&nbs
p; The optimist believes that this is the best of all possible worlds. The pessimist fears that is true.

  Robert Oppenheimer

  The shipyard was an enormous scaffold-like construction and immediately reminded Nopileos of a Nitsu-trap, poised to snap shut at any moment. Nitsu were small, stupid, but tremendously nimble rodent-lizards, quite capable of eating whole Teladi family departments out of house and home. Nopileos imagined a giant Nitsu, so big that it could only just fit into the shipyard. "One full wash with undercarriage protection", it would presumably say, then chew a couple of spars and support beams while idly watching the engineers fleeing in panic and horror, in all directions.

  "Tsh-sh-sh!"

  An older Teladi with bloodshot eyes, strapped to the acceleration table in front of Nopileos looked at him for a moment, patently confused. Losing interest, he returned with fascination to examining his colourful squawk cube. Turning it like an expensive jewel between two claws. It was a filigreed masterpiece and definitely of Boron, not Teladi manufacture. Every young Teladi would receive a squawk cube on the Tazura in which he hatched and he would keep it until the end of his Tazuras. It was one of the very few sentimental things to which this race of profit-oriented lizards attached any value. Nopileos was no different from his co-lizards in this and could still clearly remember the Tazuras, as a tiny little hatchling, when his squawk cube seemed gigantic to him. Now the familiar little piece of jewellery lay warm and close in the small polymer pouch that he always carried on his person.