Space Jackers

by Huw Powell

  ‘Nice one, Capio,’ said Callidus through gritted teeth. ‘Why don’t you tell them what we had for breakfast, while you’re at it?’

  Granny Leatherhead squared up to the fortune seeker.

  ‘Well, big boy, how come you’re so certain this planet exists? What do you know that we don’t?’

  Callidus considered his words carefully.

  ‘I’ve only heard rumours. I was told that an Altian vessel was destroyed near Remota eleven years ago. It’s my belief that Jake is one of the survivors and together we can find Altus. However, there are others searching for Jake.’

  ‘People who would attack a monastery?’ asked Granny Leatherhead.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘People like you?’ sneered Farid. ‘What wouldn’t a fortune seeker do for a container full of crystals?’

  Farid’s words made Jake wonder if fortune seekers were any better than space pirates.

  ‘Why does the boy need your help?’ asked Granny Leatherhead.

  ‘Nobody knows the location of Altus, not even Jake,’ said Callidus. ‘Capio and I have been researching the legends for years and we might be able to detect clues that otherwise get overlooked. It would be a mistake to think that Jake can find Altus without us.’

  ‘What about his parents? Why aren’t they out looking for their little treasure?’

  ‘His mother is dead and his father was lost in a space storm, though it’s possible he survived and returned to Altus.’ Callidus leant closer to the captain. ‘If the rumours are true, the boy is from an important family, important and wealthy, which means that there will be a reward for his safe return.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Granny Leatherhead put her weapons away. ‘Right, wait here, you miserable moonmaids, while I talk with my crew.’

  The space pirates left the room and closed the hatch behind them.

  ‘Oh, that’s just great,’ said Capio. ‘Do you think we’ll get a last meal or will they throw us into space on an empty stomach?’

  ‘Hey, you’re the genius who booked us on to a pirate ship,’ pointed out Callidus. ‘Now calm down.’

  ‘Calm down?’ Capio was far from composed. ‘What if I don’t? We’re about to be killed, so there’s not much you can threaten me with right now, Cal.’

  ‘Stop it,’ said Jake, who was glad to be back in his bunk and away from Kodan. ‘We need to stick together.’

  They were interrupted by the return of the crew, who were no longer brandishing weapons.

  ‘OK, gentlemen, here’s the deal.’ Granny Leatherhead spat on her hand and held it out. ‘We’re going to help you to locate Jake’s home planet in return for half of the reward. I’m assuming our share will be enough to buy a new ship?’

  ‘If not a small fleet of ships,’ said Callidus.

  ‘Excellent.’ Her single grey eye sparkled with greed. ‘Do we have a deal?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Callidus, shaking her hand. ‘I think we understand each other.’

  ‘As for you, my little explorer,’ she directed this comment to Jake. ‘You’re going to be too busy to roam about my ship. I want you to work in the engine room for the rest of the voyage, understand?’

  ‘Aye, captain,’ he said, giving a convincing salute.

  ‘Get some rest and then report next door to our chief engineer, Scargus. He’ll tell you what to do and you must obey his every word. I expect you to work hard and I don’t want any trouble, do you hear me?’

  ‘Aye, captain.’

  The crew exchanged menacing smiles and departed.

  Granny Leatherhead paused by the door. ‘Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get to bed. I want you in that engine room first thing.’

  Jake stirred the moment the lights came on and drifted from his bunk, already clothed. He rammed a food sachet into his pocket and left the room, pulling himself down the corridor to the engine room. Worried he was late, he banged on the door with his fists. It opened to reveal a scrawny old man with a bushy grey beard, who wore a string vest and crumpled cargo trousers. The man rested his thumbs inside a leather tool belt and regarded Jake through thick glasses.

  ‘Yes?’ he asked, his mouth barely visible in the cloud of hair.

  ‘Good morning, sir,’ said Jake politely. ‘My name is Jake Cutler and I’m supposed to report to chief engineer, Scargus, so he can give me some work.’

  The old man laughed. ‘Is that what she calls me now, her chief engineer? What a grand title for such a dirty job.’

  ‘Are you Scargus?’

  ‘Aye, that’s right. Nice to meet you, lad, come inside.’

  The engine room was large and cluttered, with orange corrugated iron walls. It was hot inside and hard to hear anything over the noise of the engine. Apart from the racket, the room felt cosy, with low lighting and music. There was even a collapsed sofa bolted to the floor and a hammock billowing between two pillars. Diagrams and blueprints plastered the walls, along with a variety of tools that were trying to escape their hooks.

  Scargus closed the door and patted Jake on the back, sending him spinning across the room. A young woman in grease-stained overalls appeared from behind the engine, holding a spanner. Her other arm looked artificial.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, wiping oil from her cheek. ‘We don’t get many passengers in here. I’m Manik, Manik the mechanic. I help Scargus keep this old tub spaceworthy.’

  Manik had short, dirty blonde hair and could have easily passed for a boy. Jake recognised her voice from earlier, but who had asked her for a kiss?

  ‘Fart-face, bog breath, grotty guts,’ screeched a voice behind him.

  Jake turned in surprise to discover a large parrot clinging to a perch.

  ‘This is Squawk.’ Manik walked over to the bird. ‘He’s a funny old beast, what you might call temperamental.’

  ‘Aye, “temper” and “mental” are the two words I would use to describe him,’ said Scargus.

  ‘He’s not that bad.’ Manik scooped a handful of birdfeed from her pocket. ‘I like talking to him when I’m down here on my own, but then again, I’m always talking. Scargus says it’s because I’m hyperactive, which is funny, because my name sounds like manic, which means . . . Oh, there I go again, talking too much.’

  ‘I’ve never met a real parrot,’ said Jake. ‘Does he bite?’

  ‘Only if you forget to feed him.’ Manik held up her artificial hand.

  ‘Squawk did that?’

  ‘No, only kidding,’ she said. ‘I lost my arm to a faulty engine on a passenger ship. It was an accident, but they still blamed me for stranding two hundred commuters in the fourth solar system. Nobody would employ me after that, until I met Scargus. He helped me rig up this fake limb.’

  Manik wiggled her robotic fingers, which looked as though they belonged to a clumsy metal skeleton.

  ‘Give us a kiss,’ screeched Squawk, flapping his wings and sending feathers spiralling into the air.

  ‘Silence, you overgrown canary!’ barked Scargus. ‘Manik, young Jake is going to be assisting us for the next few days. Why don’t you show him around and explain how everything works? Just don’t forget to breathe between sentences.’

  ‘Sure thing,’ she replied, putting away her spanner. ‘Come on, Jake, let me show you what’s keeping this heap of space junk moving.’

  Manik spent the next few hours introducing Jake to the ship’s engine, explaining in great detail how it turned fuel cells into thrust, which propelled the vessel through space. The engineer’s mate was enthusiastic about her subject and used lots of technical terms. Jake found it difficult to keep up. He kept smiling and nodding to avoid hurting her feelings.

  ‘Is there any way to make it quieter?’ he asked.

  ‘No, not without replacing the whole thing,’ she said. ‘It would be cheaper to buy a new ship and that’s not going to happen any time soon.’

  ‘How come you don’t have an artificial-gravity system?’

  ‘We do.’ She pointed at a large metal cylinder in the corner of
the room. ‘It was installed a couple of years ago, but Granny Leatherhead says it uses too much energy, so she’s banned us from using it. I’m sure we could turn it on in an emergency. Until then we’re stuck with our gravity boots.’

  ‘I wish I had some.’ Jake was struggling to keep still. ‘Do you have any I can borrow?’

  ‘I doubt we have your size – we don’t usually allow children on the ship – but there might be something I can do for you.’

  Manik opened a storage compartment and rummaged inside.

  ‘Here we go,’ she said, holding up a couple of metal strips and some wire. ‘We can tie these magnets to the soles of your shoes. They won’t be as effective as gravity boots, but they should help you stay on the ground.’

  Jake tried out his makeshift gravity shoes, walking across the engine-room floor. He found it difficult to lift his feet, because the magnets were so powerful, but it was still less effort than floating around the ship.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I thought pirates were supposed to be mean and tough, but you’re both, well, rather nice.’

  Manik laughed. ‘Did you hear that, Scargus?’

  ‘It sounds as though you’ve been reading too many stories, eh lad?’ Scargus had been watching Jake take his first space steps. ‘I’ll tell you what, now that you can walk, why don’t you stroll over to the other side of the room and make us all a flask of tea, and then I’ll teach you some real pirate history.’

  Chapter 7

  Zerost

  The next two days aboard the Dark Horse went by surprisingly fast. Jake spent most of his time in the engine room doing odd jobs. He also made copious amounts of ‘pirate tea’, brewed using two teabags, three sugars and powdered milk in a gravity-proof flask. In return, Scargus and Manik taught him space shanties and told him stories from pirate history.

  ‘My ancestors were famous sea pirates of old,’ said Scargus, sipping his tea. ‘They sailed the great Kayef oceans in search of merchant ships to plunder, until they were caught and hanged for their crimes.’

  ‘Who were the first space pirates?’ asked Jake.

  ‘According to legend, the first spacejackers had once been peaceful colonists. They settled on the ice planet Zerost in the fifth solar system, until one day they lost contact with their sponsor, the Galactic Trade Corporation, who they relied on for food and medical supplies.’

  ‘I’ve heard of them,’ said Jake. ‘Their drills are all over Remota.’

  He knew the Galactic Trade Corporation was the number one crystal supplier in the galaxy. Most independent colonies had their own currency, such as the Remota pound or Reus dollar, but crystals were accepted everywhere.

  ‘At the time, the Galactic Trade Corporation was only a small company struggling to survive a mega-depression,’ explained Scargus. ‘When the directors realised the only gems on Zerost were ice crystals, they abandoned the planet and left the colonists to fend for themselves.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘In desperation, the colonists took to the stars in their shuttlecraft, but they were so far from the nearest spaceports, they were forced to steal from passing ships.’

  ‘And most vessels don’t give up their precious provisions without a fight.’ Manik was finding it hard not to talk. ‘The colonists had to become space pirates to survive.’

  ‘After the mega-depression, things started to improve,’ continued Scargus. ‘The Galactic Trade Corporation grew wealthier and more powerful, despite claims that they mistreated their miners.’

  ‘But that’s not fair,’ said Jake.

  ‘It makes you wonder who the real criminals are, doesn’t it?’

  ‘What happened to the colonists?’

  ‘Well, they continued to spacejack passing vessels, until the Interstellar Government sent a fleet of naval warships to Zerost.’ Scargus scrunched up his face with bitterness. ‘The space pirates were off-world that day, but it didn’t stop the Interstellar Navy from destroying their homes and killing their families.’

  ‘That’s awful,’ exclaimed Jake. ‘I had no idea the Interstellar Navy were so ruthless. They’re supposed to be the good guys.’

  ‘It’s not something the United Worlds put in their story books,’ said Scargus. ‘The space pirates were forced to abandon Zerost and travel the seven solar systems in stolen ships. Many modern spacejackers can be traced back to those colonists from Zerost.’

  ‘Does that include you?’

  ‘No, most of the Space Dogs are just your average criminals, recruited from illegal spaceports or freed from prison ships,’ said Scargus. ‘Granny Leatherhead, on the other hand, is a direct descendant. That woman was born on a pirate ship and she’ll probably die on one. It’s in her blood, the family trade. Few people despise the Galactic Trade Corporation more than old Lizzy.’

  ‘Lizzy?’

  ‘Elizabeth Leatherhead,’ said Manik. ‘That’s her real name.’

  It was strange hearing Granny Leatherhead referred to as anything other than the captain.

  ‘So why do people let the Galactic Trade Corporation get away with it?’ asked Jake. ‘Why doesn’t the Interstellar Government do something?’

  ‘Money,’ said Scargus. ‘It’s no longer about survival of the fittest, but survival of the richest. I expect that half of the Interstellar Government has been bribed at some point.’

  ‘Is that why you became a pirate, so you can make a fortune?’

  ‘Hah, shiver my circuits, lad. I’ve been on this ship for twenty years and we barely steal enough to feed ourselves. It’s the reason the captain wears an eyepatch, because she can’t afford a replacement eye, or so she tells us. Life as a space pirate is mostly hard work and hiding from the Interstellar Navy.’

  ‘But what about all those containers in the cargo hold?’

  ‘Empty, most of them.’

  ‘Maybe you should try being full-time cargo haulers,’ suggested Jake.

  ‘Go legitimate?’ Scargus almost choked. ‘It’s too late for this crew to earn an honest living, Jakey-boy. Besides, we still hope to find the big one, the elusive treasure that will make us rich beyond our dreams. It’s out there somewhere, waiting for us in the big black. I just hope we discover it before it’s too late.’

  ‘Too late?’

  ‘Not every buccaneer makes it to retirement,’ said Scargus. ‘Apart from Granny Leatherhead, I’ve been here the longest.’

  ‘I bet you were a great pirate.’ Jake tried to picture the old engineer as a younger man.

  ‘Aye, not bad,’ said Scargus, fetching his faded black pirate outfit from a dented locker. ‘Here, take a look at this, it’s my old space helmet and combat suit. I’ve worn them on more than a hundred jobs over the years. Each patch represents a victory. This blue one is for the great Reus Heist, and that round one is for the Service Port Raids.’

  ‘You were part of the Service Port Raids?’ Jake almost let go of his flask with excitement. ‘Is it true you actually spacejacked a whole service port? How do you make something like that disappear?’

  ‘Hah, it didn’t really disappear,’ said Scargus. ‘We towed it away and sold it to the space mafia to use as an illegal spaceport. Nobody would recognise it today.’

  Jake pointed to a cutlass mounted on the wall.

  ‘Is that your sword?’

  ‘Aye, that it is.’ Scargus unclipped the weapon and passed it down. ‘I once carried this everywhere, but I’ve not used it in years.’

  Jake took the sword and held it in the air. It was the first time he had wielded a cutlass, or any other weapon for that matter, and he was surprised at how light it felt in zero gravity. Unable to resist the urge, he swung it back and forth.

  ‘It’s magnifty,’ he said, handing the cutlass back.

  Scargus put his hands in his pockets. ‘Perhaps you should keep hold of it for a while. You look as though you could do with the practice.’

  ‘Really?’ Jake was thrilled. ‘Thanks, Scargus. Will you teach me how to fight?’ />
  Scargus ignored the sniggers coming from Manik. ‘Why not? It would be my pleasure, lad.’

  In the evening, Jake returned to his quarters to eat and sleep. The others were still confined to the room and they were keen to hear his news.

  ‘Father Pius would never have let me use a sword,’ said Jake. ‘He would have told me to have faith in technology, because violence is not the answer.’

  ‘It depends on the question,’ argued Callidus. ‘You have to stand up for yourself and that takes more than a pocket full of microchips. The cyber-monks tried to defend themselves on Remota, didn’t they?’

  ‘That was different. They were attacked,’ said Jake. ‘Surrender wasn’t an option. They had to use technology to protect themselves.’

  ‘Exactly, you never know when you’ll need to fight.’ Callidus smiled. ‘If you want, I can continue your training once we make port in the next solar system.’

  ‘Thanks, Cal, but I don’t think we’re going there now.’ Jake squeezed the last bit of food from its packet. ‘I heard Scargus tell Manik that we’re changing direction to a spaceport in this solar system.’

  ‘What!’ exclaimed Capio.

  ‘Which port?’ asked Callidus. ‘Did they mention its name?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ said Jake, worried that he’d got it wrong. ‘They said something about picking up special cargo in Poppadoms.’

  ‘Poppadoms?’ Capio looked at the tub of yellow mush in his hand. ‘I’ve never heard of a spaceport being named after food. Do you think they sell a lot of curry there?’

  ‘It’s not Poppadoms, you fool,’ said Callidus. ‘It’s Papa Don’s, an illegal spaceport owned by the space mafia.’

  Jake had never heard of Papa Don’s, but it didn’t sound friendly. ‘What happens in an illegal spaceport?’

  ‘It’s the sort of place you only visit if you’re doing something dishonest,’ said Callidus. ‘The space mafia provide protection in exchange for a hefty docking fee.’