Space Jackers

by Huw Powell

  ‘The what?’ asked Granny Leatherhead.

  ‘The seal of Altus,’ said John. ‘The rulers of Altus have always possessed three unique items, including this seal. It’s the key to the planet, the symbol of power.’

  ‘Three items?’ asked Granny Leatherhead. ‘What were the other two?’

  ‘A crown and a sword, both made of gold and encrusted with jewels,’ said John. ‘For centuries they have been passed down to each successor, until Andras Cutler left the nebula with them and never returned. Kear is the first person to rule without them.’

  Andras Cutler had never returned. Jake’s shoulders sank. He had so desperately hoped to find his father waiting for him on Altus.

  ‘Do you know what happened to Andras?’ asked Callidus.

  ‘Kear claimed his brother was killed in a space accident, along with his crew and only child,’ said Hilary, her voice a whisper, ‘but how could he know that?’

  John nodded in agreement. ‘When their ship failed to return, Kear seized power and forbade anyone else to leave Altus. He told us that he’d found evidence of a conspiracy, that Andras was planning to betray us and we were well rid of him.’

  ‘That’s garbish,’ shouted Jake angrily. ‘My dad wasn’t a traitor. Kear Cutler is a liar. He sabotaged our ship.’

  ‘Your dad?’ said the farmer. ‘Your ship?’

  There was little point in trying to deny it.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. I’m Jake Cutler, son of Andras. I’ve come to take my place as the rightful ruler of Altus and make my uncle pay for what he has done.’

  A stunned silence was followed by nervous muttering. Jake watched the anxious farmers and wondered if he had done the right thing. It was obvious that Kear had some sort of hold over these people. Were they frightened enough to alert the Altian army?

  ‘Nice one, mighty mouth,’ hissed Granny Leatherhead. ‘Now we’ve lost our element of surprise, there’s only one way you’ll get to meet Kear.’

  ‘Which is?’ asked Jake.

  ‘Dead.’

  The next morning, two hover-trucks joined the usual procession of traffic along the main route to Karmadon, the capital of Altus. At first glance they appeared to be old farm vehicles heading to market, but there was something unusual about them. Both trucks were painted black and decorated with large white skulls. This instantly attracted the attention of the city guards.

  ‘Halt,’ commanded the most senior guard, stepping out in front of the hover-trucks. ‘What business do you have in Karmadon?’

  Granny Leatherhead removed her skull-shaped space helmet and leant out of the driver’s window.

  ‘We’ve come from outside the Tego Nebula,’ she said.

  ‘What did you say?’ The guard was visibly alarmed. ‘No one ever comes through that cloud. Not even our own ships these days. What brings you here?’

  ‘We’re interstellar undertakers,’ she lied.

  ‘Undertakers?’

  ‘Aye, that’s right,’ she said. ‘We’ve brought three coffins for your ruler, Kear Cutler.’

  ‘Coffins?’

  ‘Aye . . . Do you have to repeat everything I say?’

  ‘I don’t know how you found our planet,’ said the guard, straightening his maroon uniform. ‘But you’re in luck. Any outsiders must be taken to see our glorious ruler, Kear Cutler. What makes you think he needs three coffins?’

  ‘It’s not the coffins that will interest him,’ she cackled. ‘It’s what’s inside them that matters. We have the bodies of Amicus Kent, Andras Cutler, and Jake Cutler, as well as the seal of Altus.’

  Granny Leatherhead held up a picture of Jake’s pendant. The guard took one look and marched down the side of the truck, banging it with his fist.

  ‘Open up,’ he demanded.

  The back doors creaked opened and several Space Dogs climbed out.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘We’re the pall-bearers,’ said Farid. ‘We carry the coffins.’

  The guard peered inside the truck. ‘Why are there so many of you?’

  ‘Those bodies are heavy.’

  ‘What bodies?’ asked the guard. ‘I don’t see any bodies.’

  ‘That’s because they’re in the other truck,’ said the first mate. ‘Don’t you know it’s unlucky to travel with the dead?’

  Farid accompanied the guard to the second hover-truck and opened its back doors. Inside lay three wooden coffins, which looked as though they had been built in a hurry.

  ‘I want to see the bodies,’ said the guard.

  ‘Sorry, pal, no chance.’ Farid shut the doors. ‘It would take us forever to get those lids closed again. Besides, Kear Cutler should be the first to identify his brother’s remains. I doubt he would take kindly to a city guard gawping at the corpse of an Altian ruler.’

  ‘I certainly wouldn’t want to do anything to upset our great and noble leader,’ said the guard.

  ‘Well?’ shouted Granny Leatherhead from the first truck. ‘What’s the verdict, chief?’

  The guard signalled to his fellow city guards.

  ‘We’ll escort you to the Great Hall,’ he said. ‘That’s the large gold building at the top of the hill.’

  The guard mounted a maroon hover-bike and set off, closely followed by the black trucks and two more city guards on hover-bikes. The five vehicles rejoined the flow of traffic as it poured through the city walls into the capital.

  ‘Did you hear that, Cal?’ said Capio in the back of the first truck. ‘A whole building made of gold. I love this planet.’

  Chapter 25

  The Great Hall

  Inside the city walls, the main road branched off into several smaller streets, and the senior guard took the route that led up the hill. Karmadon was by far the largest and most beautiful city on Altus. They passed street after street crammed with ancient architecture and exotic gardens as they headed to a magnificent building at the top. The Great Hall of Karmadon towered over the rest of the city, its gold walls and crystal spires glittering in the coloured moonlight.

  All five vehicles pulled up outside a set of ornately decorated gates and waited. More troops in maroon uniforms emerged from a small hut and surrounded the two hover-trucks. They wore thick body armour and carried gold-plated rifles.

  ‘Are these the undertakers?’ asked one of the troopers, who had a trimmed beard and a long cloak.

  ‘Yes, that’s right,’ said the city guard, saluting, before commenting to Granny Leatherhead, ‘Kear Cutler’s personal guards will have the honour of taking you to meet our magnificent ruler.’

  The bearded trooper signalled for the gates to be opened and then turned to Granny Leatherhead.

  ‘You will come with us.’

  The hover-trucks were escorted across a stone courtyard to the Great Hall. The ‘pall-bearers’ were searched for weapons, before being allowed to unload the coffins and carry them into the building. They were led through a crystal-studded reception room into an enormous gold hall with stained-glass windows. Maroon flags hung from the ceiling over rows of wooden banqueting tables. At the end of the hall, three giant crystals were arranged on the wall in the symbol of Altus.

  ‘Get a load of those beauties, Cal,’ said Capio, whistling under his breath.

  Underneath the display, a well-groomed man sat slumped in an enormous gold throne, playing with an elaborate rapier sword. His black hair was perfectly parted and his strong chin was closely shaven. He would have been quite handsome, if it hadn’t been for his crooked nose and bitter expression. It was Jake’s uncle, Kear Cutler. A small impish-looking servant skulked beside the throne, craning his neck like a curious child.

  ‘My lord,’ said the bearded trooper, kneeling. ‘These are the undertakers from outside the nebula.’

  Kear sat forward and raised a neatly plucked eyebrow. His charcoal-black eyes scanned the skull-shaped space helmets as the Space Dogs lined up in front of him. ‘It’s been a while since I visited the outside universe,’ he said. ‘But I don’t
recall under­takers dressing like that. What do you make of them, Grimble?’

  ‘They look like space pirates to me, my lord,’ rasped the servant.

  ‘We are indeed proud space pirate kin,’ admitted Granny Leatherhead, bowing her head. ‘At your service.’

  ‘How did you find Altus?’ asked Kear, putting down his sword and rising from his throne.

  ‘Amicus Kent revealed your location to us before he died,’ she lied.

  The bearded trooper flinched at the mention of the old general.

  ‘Did he now?’ Kear sounded surprised.

  ‘Fear not, your highness,’ said Granny Leatherhead. ‘Your secret is safe with us.’

  Kear snorted. ‘What makes you think that I would risk letting a bunch of spacejackers leave here alive? After all, dead pirates tell no tales.’

  Grimble laughed maliciously, but no one else seemed to find this funny.

  Granny Leatherhead smiled modestly. ‘We’ve left some of our crew behind as insurance. If we don’t return within two days, they will pass your coordinates to the Galactic Trade Corporation, who would love to get their drills into your crystal moons.’

  ‘You dare to blackmail me?’ Kear’s eyes bulged with anger.

  ‘Forgive us, mighty ruler,’ she said. ‘All we seek is a small reward for bringing you these coffins – a little something to cover our costs.’

  ‘Ah yes, the coffins.’ Kear turned his attention to the three timber crates. ‘It’s funny, they don’t look expensive. Do you think it’s acceptable to present the remains of an Altian leader in such a cheap casket?’

  ‘It was our understanding that Andras Cutler was a traitor and he deserved nothing more than a wooden box,’ said Granny Leatherhead innocently.

  ‘Hah, spoken like a true pirate.’ Kear’s lips curled into a cruel smile. ‘I like you, one-eyed woman. You’re well informed and you have no fear. You must also be very persuasive to get Amicus Kent to betray his planet.’

  ‘Indeed.’

  The bearded trooper tightened his grip on his rifle.

  ‘Come, open these coffins,’ said Kear, rubbing his hands. ‘You have done Altus a great service. This will put an end to the conspiracy theories and uprisings. Now that I have the seal of Altus, no one will dare to question my authority again.’

  ‘Conspiracy theories?’ enquired Granny Leatherhead. ‘Uprisings?’

  ‘Yes, these are dark times. There are some who believe my brother Andras and his son Jake will return to rule Altus. Their protests have caused me no end of problems. Here I am, trying to drag this planet out of the dark ages and all they do is complain. What else do they want? Fishing is more efficient, farming is more productive, and if it wasn’t for me, lunar power would still be a dream.’

  ‘People can be so ungrateful.’

  ‘Ungrateful?’ said Kear. ‘A wise person once told me if you can’t make your subjects love you, then you should make them fear you. I’ve had to use fear to control this world and still my people turn against me. It’s not like I enjoy punishing the protesters. But all that will stop, now I have proof that Andras is dead.’

  Granny Leatherhead signalled for her crew to open the first coffin.

  ‘Who lies in this one?’ asked Kear.

  ‘Your nephew, Jake Cutler.’

  The lid was wrenched free and inside lay Jake, perfectly still with his arms crossed and the gold pendant resting on his chest. Strewn around his body were personal items, including the cutlass from Scargus. Kear leant forward and examined the face of his nephew.

  ‘I’ve not seen this boy since he was a toddler, but I can tell it’s him. He has his father’s nose and the family chin. Where has he been all these years?’

  ‘We found him in the seventh solar system,’ said Granny Leatherhead. ‘Hiding on a planet called Remota.’

  Kear stooped lower to get a closer look.

  ‘How did he die? There are no visible wounds or signs of poisoning. In fact, he looks rather healthy for a –’

  ‘Hello, Uncle.’ Jake sat up and opened his eyes. ‘It’s been a long time.’

  Kear jerked back, startled. ‘What’s this?’

  With lightning speed, Jake grabbed his cutlass and held it to Kear’s throat, pressing the edge of the blade against his pampered skin.

  ‘Nobody move,’ he yelled.

  It took the troops a moment to realise what was happening, which was just long enough for the Space Dogs to crack open the other coffins, where Kella and Nanoo were hiding with more weapons. Granny Leatherhead snatched up her laser pistol and waved it in the air.

  ‘You heard the lad. One false step and Uncle No-Mates will have his bitter blood splattered over this throne.’

  None of the troops moved.

  ‘How can this be?’ Kear stared at his nephew in disbelief. ‘What happened to your eyes? Why are they sparkling?’

  Jake stood up. ‘I’ve had these implants since I was two years old, thanks to you.’

  Kear glanced at the empty coffins. ‘I don’t understand. Where are Andras and Amicus?’

  ‘You sabotaged our ship.’ Jake’s hand shook with anger. ‘Because of you, I’ve grown up without a dad. Amicus Kent died a few days ago, but not before telling me who betrayed us. He was right – you wanted to claim Altus for yourself.’

  Kear pushed Jake’s cutlass aside with his finger.

  ‘How dare you point a sword at me?’ he growled, his dark eyes twitching with anger. ‘Where’s your evidence? I’ve committed no crime.’

  ‘Kear not speak truth,’ said Nanoo, holding up his home-made lie detector. ‘He guilty.’

  ‘Was it worth it, Uncle?’ Jake placed the blade back against Kear’s throat. ‘Were the last eleven years on that throne worth the lives of my father’s crew?’

  ‘Who do you think you are, boy?’

  ‘I’m the rightful ruler of Altus,’ said Jake. ‘Which makes you . . . fired.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Kear clenched his fists and shook with rage. ‘We’ll see about that, you purple-eyed freak. The only way you’ll take this planet is over my dead body.’

  ‘Don’t tempt me,’ said Jake, stepping out of the coffin. ‘I might have been raised by cyber-monks, but I haven’t taken their vows of peace.’

  ‘Guards,’ roared Kear, frothing at the mouth in anger. ‘What are you waiting for? Kill them all.’

  Jake braced himself for the sound of laser fire, but none came. The troops remained in position, their rifles rested.

  ‘Steady, Space Dogs,’ croaked Granny Leatherhead. ‘This fight is between Jake and his uncle.’

  ‘Guards?’ Kear glared at his troops. ‘What’s the meaning of this?’

  The bearded trooper approached Jake, his every step traced by Granny Leatherhead’s chunky pistol. He stopped and examined the glowing pendant.

  ‘This isn’t the first time that I’ve seen the seal of Altus and its beauty has not faded,’ he said. ‘Are you really Jake Cutler, son of Andras Cutler?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve returned to Altus to take my place as your rightful ruler and to make Kear Cutler pay for his crimes.’

  The bearded trooper considered these words, before dropping on to one knee and saluting. ‘My name is Rex Kent, captain of the guard. Amicus Kent was my cousin. It’s good to have you back, my lord. Your planet needs you.’

  ‘Thank you, Rex,’ said Jake, surprised. ‘Your cousin was a good man and a loyal servant of Altus.’

  ‘I never doubted it for a second. What are your orders, my lord?’

  His orders? Jake wasn’t ready for this question. All his energy had been focused on finding Altus. The whole room waited for him to speak, but his mind went blank. What should he say? He opened his mouth, hoping some words would come out.

  ‘My orders . . .’

  ‘Look out!’ cried Kella.

  While Jake was caught off guard, Kear used the opportunity to reach for his rapier sword.

  ‘Mutiny,’ thundered Kear, swinging the blade at his nephe
w. ‘I’ll put an end to this treachery once and for all.’

  Jake lifted his cutlass just in time to block the attack, but Kear lashed out again, clipping Jake’s ear and drawing blood. Jake cried in pain and pulled away. This was it, his first real sword fight, and he was already losing. What had Scargus taught him about using a cutlass? It was all about movement and balance. Jake was smaller than his uncle, but he was also younger and faster.

  ‘What’s the matter, boy?’ sneered Kear. ‘Missing your daddy?’

  Fuelled by anger, Jake leapt forward, his cutlass cutting and thrusting at his command. He released a combination of rapid strikes, like a crazed acrobat twisting and spinning, attacking with all his might. Kear struggled to fend off his nephew and jumped on to the throne. Jake went to follow, but instead caught a boot in the face.

  ‘Take that, you little runt,’ snarled Kear.

  Jake ignored the pain in his cheek and the warm blood trickling from his nose. They weren’t import­ant. Nothing was going to stop him avenging his father. He circled his uncle, moving with pace and agility, his confidence growing with every strike. Kear scowled, but there was fear in his eyes.

  ‘What’s the matter, Uncle?’ asked Jake. ‘Missing your guards?’

  Adrenalin surged through Jake’s veins. It was his time, his revenge, his victory. All eyes were on Jake and his uncle, which is why no one noticed Grimble slip from the crowd. The impish man pulled a two-way radio from his pocket and activated it.

  ‘Help!’ he rasped. ‘Pirates! Traitors! We’re under attack. Send more troops!’

  Jake’s implants flickered.

  ‘No!’ he cried, as the sight of his uncle distorted before his eyes, leaving only static and shadows. ‘Not now!’

  Jake cursed himself for not realising the Altians would need to use old technology. Grimble’s two-way radio had scrambled his vision. He staggered backward, swinging his sword at random.

  Kear saw his chance and lunged, sinking his blade deep into his nephew’s arm. Jake reeled in agony and dropped his cutlass, which clattered to the floor. He stood there, holding his wounded arm, blind and unarmed, waiting for his uncle to strike again.

  ‘Never mind, nephew,’ sneered Kear. ‘At least we know your coffin fits.’