The Planetsider

by G J Ogden

  They arrived at a large, slab-fronted black building with a UEC logo high on the side, and as he entered his escort peeled off, saluting and saying ‘good luck’ in a way that made Ethan feel that it was said simply because his training had told him to be polite. Major Kurren was standing by a large arched doorway. His eyes projected a certain menace, very unlike his brother, who had eyes that were welcoming and friendly.

  “This way,” said Kurren, gruffly. “We’re ready. I’ll take you through what you need to do, and we can begin.” Ethan nodded and followed Kurren through the doorway; the doors swinging open automatically with a powerful, mechanical-sounding growl. They entered a large room with one side made almost entirely from glass, beyond which the base gave way to the open surface of the moon. Hanging above a dusty courtyard of white rocks, attached to a tubular passageway built into the glass wall, was a long, sleek-looking vessel, pulsing with lights. There was a windowed section at the front, illuminated brightly from the inside. “That’s our ship. She’s the best we have left,” said Kurren, proudly.

  “Good to know,” said Ethan, absent-mindedly, his thoughts still a jumble of a dozen different things.

  “Do your part and I’ll make sure you get back, safely,” Kurren said. It sounded more like an order than an attempt to reassure.

  “I’m sure you will,” said Ethan, unsure of what else to say.

  “I will,” said Kurren with determination. “I only wish my brother had received the same treatment.”

  The reason for Kurren’s menace was finally laid bare. It wasn’t just a military gruffness, it was anger over his brother. And Ethan was the target of this blame.

  “I meant it when I said I was sorry about your brother,” replied Ethan, matching Kurren’s resolute tone. “He saved Maria. He’s the reason I’m here, and that Maria is too. I didn’t mean for him to get stranded on the planet.”

  Kurren’s eyes narrowed. Perhaps he hadn’t expected such steel from the Planetsider. “It was his choice to volunteer,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I don’t blame you, Planetsider. I just hope you’re worth it, that’s all.”

  “So do I,” said Ethan, honestly. Kurren seemed to appreciate Ethan's candour, as his eyes lost some of their piercing sharpness. “Show me what I need to do.”

  Kurren nodded and led Ethan over to the console, where they were joined by two other men in plain blue overalls. Neither spoke to Ethan, nor did Kurren reveal their names, simply referring to them as ‘mission specialists’. For the next hour, Kurren and the specialists covered the details of the mission and the part Ethan needed to play. He was given a replica of the EV suit that Kurren would remotely pilot close to the stranded ship, and for another hour he trained in this suit, learning the core functions, the vast majority of which he wouldn’t need, since Kurren and the mission controllers would handle almost everything remotely. However, once he was within ten to fifteen metres of the ship it would be down to him to pilot inside, navigate to the cockpit and insert the ‘override control spike’ in to the pilot’s console. This was a metal shard about thirty centimetres long and roughly the same thickness as his thumb, which slotted into a section on the pilot’s console, clearly marked by a two red circles, one surrounding the other. He was shown a replica of the pilot's console and made to practise this procedure more times than he felt necessary, given the clear simplicity of the task. Once the shard was inserted, Kurren explained, it would activate the ship’s backup power generator, and boost the signal so that Kurren could remotely access the ship's systems and pilot the vessel back to the decontamination area, safely away from the moon base’s habitable zones, with Ethan still inside. The way it was described to Ethan made it all sound perfectly simple, though something told Ethan that the real mission would be somewhat more challenging than these simulations.

  After three hours of continuous training, Ethan was both exhausted and thoroughly sick of the continual repetition of tasks. The latest simulation came to an end and Kurren looked pensively over the simulation results with the same intense concentration as the previous twenty-one times. Then he looked up at Ethan and said, “Okay. We go in thirty.”

  The words had a sobering effect on Ethan, and he suddenly had a burning desire to do another twenty simulations, rather than face the prospect of venturing out into space for real. But he was too tired to argue and instead just slumped back into the training seat and grunted his acknowledgement.

  Kurren smiled – the masochist in him seemed to have enjoyed beasting Ethan around for the last few hours – and reached into his top shirt pocket, removing a small round container. He popped it open and shook out a small, red pill, which he handed to Ethan. “Take this,” he said. “It’s a stim, we use them all the time. It will make you feel incredible for a few hours, which is all the time we need to get this done.”

  Ethan took it and placed it on his tongue, where it almost immediately dissolved; leaving him with tingling sensation that began to spread throughout his body, washing away the fatigue. “Wow...” said Ethan feeling an intense rush of energy. “What happens after this wears off?”

  Kurren snorted, which Ethan supposed was as close as this man came to laughing. “Then you’ll have one hell of a hangover.”

  Ethan stood up. He felt amazing. “What’s a hangover?” he asked.

  And this time Kurren did laugh.

  chapter 22

  Ethan, your heart rate is rising, try to take some regular, deep breaths.”

  The comlink crackled off, silencing the voice of the nameless ‘mission specialist’, who was Ethan’s ethereal companion. Ethan could feel his heart pounding, and tried to do as instructed, but the breaths were still coming rapidly, a combination of the stimulant that Kurren had given him, and the fact he was flying through open space inside a shell made of fabric and metal. In front of him, hanging ominously in the blackness, set against the bright blue backdrop of the planet itself, was a large, black, spacecraft. It looked like a giant arrowhead with three blades sweeping back from the head section, like huge shark fins, with powerful-looking engines positioned between each V. It was both considerably larger and more elegant-looking than the boxier craft that had brought him from the surface to the moon base, and looked like it could swallow up three or four of the sleeker combat aircraft he’d seen on the deck, before Maria was injured. It was nestled among a flotsam of shimmering, twisted metal debris shrouded by opaque clouds of dust that almost looked like they were guarding it.

  “Two minutes to contact. Adjust 1.7 right, Z+ 0.2. Initiate remote hatch unlocking.”

  He adjusted the controls, as he'd practised so many times before, making another minor correction to his trajectory. Ethan liked the comlink chatter. It had been almost constant throughout the thirty-four minutes it had taken him to reach this point, since he had jettisoned from the craft that Kurren and the two mission specialists had piloted to a position the minimum safe distance from the ship. And despite not understanding most of the content, he had welcomed the company. With the comlink silent, he was painfully aware of his rapid, shallow breathing, and the pumping of blood in his ears.

  “Ethan, concentrate on your breathing. You’re doing great, nearly there,” the crackly voice announced.

  Ethan took consciously deeper breaths and felt his heart pump more slowly and evenly. In front of him the black object was looming large in his visor. A ring of lights illuminated between two of the huge fins, near the rear of the craft. “Remote hatch unlocking successful. Commander, over to you.”

  “Affirmative, I have control.” The second voice was Kurren’s. It was the first time Ethan had heard it since boarding the vessel that had brought them closer to their target, and then spat him unceremoniously out into space. “Okay, Ethan,” said Kurren's voice, solid and steady on the comlink. “This is the docking manoeuvre, you've practised this, you can do it. Initiate on my mark.”

  Ethan nodded instinctively inside his helmet and then flipped the sequence of switches that he had committed
to memory. “Ready,” he said, his voice far less steady than Kurren's. There was silence for a few moments as Ethan considered his glide towards the flashing lights, which outlined the port docking hatch. “Come on, come on,” Ethan said out loud, the comlink disabled, urging Kurren to give the order.

  “Three...two...one...initiate!” came Kurren's voice out of the silence. Ethan fired the jets on their pre-programmed sequence. The sudden and rapid change of direction and orientation was briefly confusing and made Ethan feel queasy, but the sensation was momentary as he halted directly in front of the hatch opening. “Well done Ethan,” said Kurren, sounding almost nice. “It gets easier from now on.” Presumably one of the many probes that had been attached to Ethan could detect ‘queasiness’, in addition to seemingly every other physical condition that a person could experience.

  “Good to know…” said Ethan, sarcastically. He manually pulsed the rear jets and felt himself move forward towards the hatch opening. The blackness of space was now replaced by blinding white lights, some of which emanated from the suit itself and reflected back off the metal shell of the ancient vessel. The object now looked far less forbidding, and Ethan again began to feel calmer, as if the end was close.

  Come on, you can do this… he said to himself as he passed through the opening and into the guts of the ship. Then following his training to the letter, he pulsed the thrusters one last time and felt his feet hit the decking. They stuck to it firmly, a phenomenon that one of the mission specialists had called ‘magnetism’.

  “Package on site, initiating ambulatory mode,” The comlink crackled, and Ethan felt heavy, as if he was falling. His natural instinct was to steady himself, adjusting his footing and balance, and to his surprise, the suit reacted in the same way as his muscles, stopping his fall. He stood tall and moved his arms and legs. It felt natural, just as in the simulations.

  “You've done the hard part,” said Kurren over the comlink, his voice sounding thinner and more distant. “About fifty metres ahead is the cockpit. You know what to do.”

  Ethan reached down with his right hand and grabbed the spike, which was attached magnetically to the thigh section of the EV suit. Holding it in front of him, he paced, deliberately, carefully, down the hallway of the ship. It was almost exactly like in the simulation, and he knew precisely what to do. His heart rate was climbing again, but he felt in control, knowing he was through the most challenging section. He reached the cockpit door and held out his left hand in front of the panel to the door’s side, and just as in the simulations, it flashed into life, scanning his hand with a line of intense green light, before shutting off. The door hissed and slid open, but only half way. In the simulations, it had slid open entirely. Ethan started to feel panicky.

  “Kurren,” said Ethan, stress evident in his voice. “The door… it hasn’t opened. What do I…”

  “Stay calm, Ethan, it’s not a problem,” the comlink crackled, cutting Ethan off. “Just grab the edge of the door and force it, just as you would normally. The suit has the strength to open it.”

  Ethan took several deep breaths and grabbed the edge of the door with his gloved left hand. Then with all his physical strength, he pulled back, and the door slowly slid open, grinding against the frame and causing it to buckle slightly. Kurren was right about the suit augmenting his strength. Words and symbols flashed up in his visor as he continue to push the door back, accompanied by a pulsing low tone.

  “Easy, Ethan, easy!” said Kurren urgently. “We want you to open the door, not tear the ship in two!”

  Ethan let go of the door, and the symbols slowly started to disappear, followed shortly after by the pulsing tone. “Is everything okay?” asked Ethan, worried that he'd caused some serious damage. There was a momentary silence, which felt like an eternity.

  “Yes, integrity checks out okay. Just, take it easy, huh?” said the voice of the anonymous mission specialist.

  “Ethan, head into the cockpit and insert the spike. Then we can get you out of there.” This time it was Kurren again. His steady and assured delivery, in contrast to the other man, actually made Ethan feel better. He walked through the doorway and into the cockpit. It looked identical to the simulations. He moved over to the left seat, the pilot’s seat, and found to his horror the corpse of the pilot still strapped to the seat. His pulse and breathing spiked, causing a concerned mission specialist to check if he was okay.

  “You could have warned me there would be bodies in here!” Ethan shouted angrily into the comlink.

  “We didn’t want to warn you in case it played on your mind and affected the mission.” It was Kurren speaking, sounding wholly unsympathetic and almost annoyed.

  “Well, it’s playing on my mind now!” Ethan replied, irritated by Kurren’s casual dismissal.

  “Just focus on the mission,” Kurren replied a moment later. “You’re almost there, just insert the spike.”

  Ethan studied the console, looking for the port where the spike needed to be inserted. It was exactly where it was supposed to be, surrounded by two red circles. He moved closer, trying his best not to look at the corpse beside him, and positioned the spike over the port.

  “I’m going to insert the spike in three…two…one… inserting,” he said into the com, and then without waiting for a reply, he pushed the spike in, and turned it ninety degrees left, just as in the simulator. Then he waited. The comlink crackled in the background, but no-one spoke. After a tense few seconds the console lit up, and a few more seconds later there was a deep throbbing sound that resonated through the floor, vibrating through every inch of his suit. Lights came on in the cockpit, and then as Ethan turned to look down the length of the vessel, more lights pulsed on. The relic was coming back to life.

  “It’s working,” said Kurren over the comlink, and Ethan detected some uncharacteristic excitement in his voice.

  “I am receiving telemetry. I should have control in three minutes,” said the other man, more calmly this time.

  Ethan could feel his body loosen. It was at this point that the simulation started coming to an end, and Kurren would tell Ethan that all he needed to do now was sit back and wait for them to bring him and the ship back to the base. In the simulation this gave him no comfort, as it wasn't real, but this time they would have whatever equipment they needed to create their medicines to heal Maria, and everyone else. This time it mattered. Ethan moved back into the main body of the ship and looked around as he waited. He observed that various items of detritus that had been floating weightlessly in the cabin were now resting on the deck. He lifted his feet, one then the other, like some strange dance, and noticed that the sudden, tell-tale pull of magnetism as his boot approached the decking had gone. Gravity was being restored, and soon he would be on his way. This was also part of the simulation, because Ethan had to learn to adjust to the changes in forces on the suit, and how this affected his movements.

  The comlink crackled in the background. He could hear voices and the strange artificial sounds that emanated from the many devices the UEC relied on. The voice grew louder and faster, but still not clear enough to hear. Ethan thought nothing of it, and just looked out of a nearby window at the planet, spinning silently in front of him, trying to keep his mind off the dead body in the cockpit. Would he go back, he wondered? With or without Maria, would he go back to the planet? Would they let him? The sounds and voices grew louder and more urgent, and reclaimed Ethan’s attention.

  “Is everything okay?” Ethan said into the comlink, but there was no answer. He tried again; “Hey, Kurren, what’s going on?” but there was still no reply. The lack of response was starting to worry him. He looked around the ship for any dangers, such as a fire, but there was nothing obvious. So he looked out again at the spinning ball of blue and the darkness surrounding it, and this time there was something else there. Advancing directly towards the ship was a shape, now cleanly silhouetted against the vibrant backdrop of the planet, and it was growing larger.

  “Etha
n, get out of the ship, get out now!” It was Kurren, and for the first time since Ethan has met the man, his voice lacked composure.

  “What? How? Why?” Ethan said, startled and confused.

  “No questions. Go back to the hatch and jump out. Do it now!” Kurren shouted, his voice distorting uncomfortably through the comlink.

  “Jump out? Are you mad?!” exclaimed Ethan, now feeling terror start to grip him.

  “Just do it, I’ll get you back. Go now, now, now!”

  Ethan manoeuvred his suit towards the door of the cockpit as fast as he could. Glancing back, he saw the object pass over the top of the cockpit, so close that he could feel it. It was another spacecraft, much smaller than any of the vessels he’d seen so far, perhaps only big enough for one person.

  He ran – as close to running as was possible in the suit – back down the centre section of the ship and towards the hatchway through which he had entered. He was almost there when the starlight outside the hatch vanished. The entire vessel shook and jolted to one side, knocking Ethan to the floor. He tried to recover, but fell again. He had trained for the possibility of falling prone and having to recover, but faced with this unknown threat, Ethan was panicking and struggled to recall what to do. Instead, he simply flailed around on his back, unable to right himself, like an overturned cockroach. Two more jolts pulsed through the structure of the ship, and then the training finally kicked in. He managed to turn over and bring the legs of the suit up underneath him. He stood up, breathing heavily from the exertion; he was facing back towards the cockpit, his heart was beating fast and his chest burned. He span around towards the hatch, but standing directly in front of him outlined by an array of lights that dazzled him, even through his visor, was another suit.

  “Who… who are you?” Ethan spluttered. He felt a shock run though his body, from head to toe. He tried to scream, but was paralysed. As the pulsing stopped, he felt the weight of the suit drag him down as it lost power, and he hit the deck hard. The suited figure stepped over him and looked down. He could not see a face behind the glass, only a rim of lights surrounding the visor, leaving a dark, empty centre. The suited figure looked up again, stepped over Ethan and moved swiftly down the centre section of the ship, towards the cockpit. Red lights and symbols began to flash up in Ethan’s visor. He felt dizzy and weak. He waited, unable to move, occasionally calling out to Kurren, but the comlink was inactive. Powerful vibrations again surged through the framework of the ship, shaking Ethan's bones, and the lights inside the vessel grew brighter. He heard a mechanical whirr and then felt a solid thud reverberate through the decking nearby. The hatch door had closed, with him still inside.