by Huw Powell
Kella and Nanoo were reluctant to leave Jake, but they couldn’t change his mind.
“We won’t be long,” said Kella. “Don’t go anywhere without us.”
Once they had left, Jake swept back his thick brown hair and entered the restaurant. It was a wide room with large windows and round tables. Antique mirrors and paintings decorated the walls, while scented candlesticks sweetened the air. Apart from the person at table six, the restaurant was completely deserted.
Jake’s heart nearly stopped when he realized that the house robot had moved out of the way. A man sat at the table with his back to the door. He was taking in the view of Santanova in the red morning light. His clothes were plain and grubby, but he sipped an expensive-looking cocktail. Jake marched across the restaurant to meet him.
“Are you JD?”
The man turned and smiled. It definitely wasn’t the farmer John Daxton.
“Hello, my lord,” he said. “It’s been a long time.”
Jake recognized JD’s heavily scarred face from the previous day, when he had looked surprised to see Jake in the space docks.
“Have we met before?”
“Please, take a seat.” JD waved to the house robot. “Would you like a drink?”
“Apple juice, thanks.”
Jake found it strange to be served by a house robot after meeting the Hacker Jackers. He lowered himself into a chair next to the window, unable to take his eyes off JD. A few distant voices passed the restaurant door.
“My name is Jorge Dasch,” said the man. “I don’t expect you remember me.”
“Are you from Altus?” Jake was picking up hints of a clipped accent.
“Yes, but I’ve not been home for many years. I couldn’t believe it when I heard our planet mentioned on the Interstellar News, and then I spotted you in the space docks yesterday. I could tell that you were a Cutler. You look like your father, except for the hair and eyes, of course.”
“Why did you leave Altus?”
Jorge swirled his cocktail. “I was a mechanic aboard your father’s ship.”
“You mean . . .”
“That’s right. I was there eleven years ago when the Interstellar Navy attacked.” Jorge pointed to the scars on his face. “It’s where I got these beauties.”
Jake steadied himself. It was as though he were meeting a ghost. Amicus Kent had not mentioned any other survivors, but how else would Jorge know about his father’s ship?
“Why didn’t you return to Altus?” asked Jake. “You could have told everyone what really happened.”
“I . . .” Jorge lowered his gaze. “I couldn’t.”
The house robot returned with a fresh apple juice. Jake thanked it and waited until it was gone before asking the question that was itching to escape his lips.
“Why not?”
Jorge shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I was afraid.”
“Afraid?” Jake was confused. “Afraid of what? My uncle, Kear Cutler?”
Jorge nodded.
“Why would you be afraid of Kear unless you knew that he had sabotaged the ship?”
“All of Altus knew that Kear and Andras argued,” said Jorge. “It was only a matter of time before someone tried to kill your father.”
“Someone? You mean Kear?”
“Yes, of course.”
There was something about Jorge Dasch that bothered Jake. The mechanic kept glancing out of the window, as though trying to avoid looking directly at him.
“Amicus suspected that my uncle had betrayed us,” said Jake. “But what I can’t figure out is how Kear could sabotage our shields and weapons when he was back on Altus. I mean, surely the crew would have checked the ship before launch, especially for such an important mission.”
Jorge’s eyes widened. “What are you saying?”
“The shields and weapons must have been disabled while the ship was in space,” said Jake, convinced that he was right. “There must have been a traitor aboard—”
“I was a loyal servant of Altus.”
“You?” Jake stood up and drew his cutlass. “Is that how you survived, when so many others died? Is that why you were too afraid to return to Altus? You were worried that my uncle would try to silence you, because it was you who left us defenseless.”
“Kear made me do it,” said Jorge, cowering in his chair. “He told me that Andras and Amicus were preparing to sell out Altus. I thought that I was acting under orders from the Protectorate.”
Jake hesitated, the cutlass raised. “What changed your mind?”
“I realized that it was a lie when Andras stood up to Admiral Nex, but it was too late. The Interstellar Navy attacked, and I knew that Kear had used me.”
“My dad was a hero,” said Jake. “He would have died before betraying Altus.”
“I know,” sniveled Jorge. “I’ve had to live with the guilt for eleven years. I’m reminded of it every time I look in the mirror.”
Jake became aware of the house robot watching them, but it didn’t matter. He kept a firm grip on his cutlass and prepared to strike the traitor. It seemed appropriate that he would do it with the sword of Altus.
“Because of you, Altus lost a great leader,” he said, his voice shaking with anger. “Because of you, an Altian crew lost their lives. Because of you, I’ve lost my dad and I don’t know where to find him.”
Jake took a sharp breath and swung the cutlass.
“He’s not lost!” cried Jorge.
Jake froze in mid-strike, his blade inches from Jorge’s head. “What did you say?”
“He’s not lost.” Tears coursed down Jorge’s scarred cheeks. “I’ve seen Andras Cutler since the attack.”
Jake had always believed that his father had survived. Had he finally met someone who knew where to find him? It had to be a trick. How could he trust a traitor like Jorge Dasch?
“Liar.” Jake raised his sword.
“It’s true,” said Jorge, talking fast. “I knew your father. He often spent time with the crew. It was definitely him. His hair was longer and his nose looked busted, but it was him all right. I saw his headcuffs.”
“His what?” Jake lowered the cutlass and eyed Jorge suspiciously. “Was he some sort of prisoner? What happened to him? How did he survive?”
“I don’t know.” Jorge fidgeted in his seat. “He should have died in the asteroid field.”
“What about you? Amicus never mentioned another escape pod.”
“Amicus was halfway to Remota by the time I abandoned ship,” said Jorge. “I’ve no idea where he landed, but I ended up in the desert. It was too dangerous to travel at night, so I stayed inside my escape pod until morning, and then I dragged myself to the nearest farm. The farmer healed my wounds and dropped me at the space docks. I got work aboard a passenger ship and never returned.”
A team of planetary guards charged through the restaurant door. Jake knew it would be moments before they tried to take his sword.
“Where did you see my dad?”
Jorge spotted the planetary guards, but he kept talking. “It was a few months ago, in a service port in the seventh solar system. He walked right past me with a friend. I guess he didn’t recognize me with all of these scars.”
“What friend? Why was he wearing headcuffs?”
It was too late. Jake was surrounded by four armed planetary guards, who were yelling at him to drop his weapon.
“Okay, okay,” he said, throwing the sword of Altus onto the table and raising his hands.
If there was the slightest chance that he might see his father again, he had to stay alive. Jake’s mind tried to process what Jorge had told him. Was Andras Cutler still in the seventh solar system? Had he been living near Remota the whole time? Who was the friend?
“Step away from the sword and put your hands behind your back,” ordered the nearest guard.
Jake started to panic. He couldn’t afford to be arrested when he had service ports to search for his father.
“You don
’t understand,” he said. “I’m the leader of an independent colony and I’m needed at the gathering.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever you say, my lord.” The planetary guard laughed. “You’re not going anywhere, sunshine.”
Jake backed away, but he was trapped by the window. Where were Kella and Nanoo?
“There’s no need to arrest anyone,” said Jorge, rising to his feet. “We were only having a minor disagreement, that’s all. No harm was done.”
It was unclear if the guard believed this or not, because at that moment there was a blinding flash of light outside.
“What in the galaxy is that?” exclaimed one of the guards, stepping away from the window.
A sound like thunder rumbled overhead and the whole restaurant shook. Jake shielded his eyes from the intense glare, which lasted for only a few seconds. He squinted through the glass to discover that the whole of Lugar was obscured by a giant dust cloud.
“No!” he cried. “It can’t be—”
There was only one thing that could have caused such a reaction, something that he thought he would never see with his own eyes. A mega-bomb had just destroyed Lugar. Jake watched the dust cloud climb into the sky and swell like a giant mushroom. A chorus of screams spread through the space docks as people realized the city was no longer there.
“It’s gone . . . my family . . . ,” choked out one of the guards.
“What do we do?” asked another.
“We need to contact the duty officer,” said the nearest guard, backing away from the window. “They will know what to do.”
The four of them rushed out of the restaurant, knocking over tables and chairs on their way. A siren wailed overhead and the lights dimmed to red, so the inside of the restaurant matched the sunshine outside. Jake stared in shock at the devastating scene, not wanting to believe that a million people had just lost their lives, including every independent colony leader in the seven solar systems. The mayor of Remota, the president of Reus, the prime minister of Santanova.
All of them, dead.
Chapter 24
Act of War
The cloud cleared to reveal a colossal crater where Lugar had stood moments before. Its charred surface was covered with debris, like a giant nest of rubble. Jake pressed his forehead on the glass. He was feeling weak and nauseous. What had he done? If it hadn’t been for him, the leaders wouldn’t have gathered there today. Come to think of it, if it hadn’t been for his meeting with Jorge Dasch, he would have died with them.
“You wanted me to leave the gathering early, didn’t you?” Jake said.
There was a loud click and Jake turned to find Jorge holding a laser pistol.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” said the mechanic, his voice now cold and detached. “I needed you alive.”
Jake glared at him. “Did you plant the mega-bomb?”
“No,” said Jorge. “I was only instructed to keep you in the space docks until the Interstellar Navy arrives.”
“The Interstellar Navy?” Jake checked at the window. “But they’re not welcome here.”
Jorge smirked, and the truth hit Jake like a laser bolt. All of the leaders were dead and the treaty was destroyed. The Interstellar Navy had not been waiting for the outcome of the gathering, it had been waiting until it was safe to attack Vantos. With the leaders out of the way, who would be able to stop the United Worlds from wiping out the independent colonies one at a time? It wasn’t going to be a war, it was going to be a massacre.
“Thank you for listening to my confession,” said Jorge, keeping his laser pistol trained on Jake. “It felt good to get that off my chest.”
“Drop dead.” Jake’s shock had turned to anger.
Jorge tutted and checked his wrist computer. “It shouldn’t be long before the Interstellar Navy arrives. I contacted them the moment I saw you, though I had to pretend to be a fortune seeker from Yemet.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Why?” Jorge had a wild look in his eyes. “Because I’m sick of being a monster. I’ve suffered for what I did and now I want a better life. I’ll use the reward money to pay for a new face and then I’ll return to Altus. It should be safe now. If you’re the new ruler, it means that Kear Cutler is either dead or in prison.”
“You don’t have to look like a monster to be one,” said Jake.
“How dare you judge me,” snarled Jorge. “You’re the one hanging out with common pirates.”
“I would rather be a spacejacker than a traitor.”
Jake knew it was Game Over. He glanced out of the window and saw streams of ships evacuating the planet. At least Kella and Nanoo were safe in the space docks. But what about Callidus and Capio? Had they been in Lugar when the mega-bomb exploded?
“Admiral Vantard is looking forward to meeting you,” said Jorge, picking up his cocktail. “I’m being paid an obscene amount of crystals to keep you here.”
“Blood money,” spat Jake, with distaste. “Why is everyone so obsessed with crystals?”
“If it makes you feel any better, they won’t be worth as much on Altus,” sighed Jorge. “How I’ve missed those crystal moons and that gold dust desert.”
“You had better enjoy them while you can,” said Jake, through gritted teeth. “Who knows how long I can resist maximum interrogation before I give away the location of Altus. Are you ready for the Interstellar Navy to come bursting through the Tego Nebula, closely followed by the Galactic Trade Corporation?”
Jorge’s expression faltered. He drained the rest of his cocktail and wiped his lips with his wrist.
“Perhaps it would be better to hand you over dead. I wouldn’t get as big a reward, but at least Altus would be safe.”
“You’re too late,” said Jake, pointing at the window. “A naval warship has just arrived.”
“What?” Jorge spun around, but there was nothing outside.
Jake seized the golden cutlass from the table and swung the blade. He caught the barrel of the laser pistol, knocking the weapon from Jorge’s hand.
“Hey!” shouted the mechanic, as his pistol slid across the floor.
Jake lunged with his sword, but Jorge jumped clear and rolled over the next table. His scarred face scowled with a mixture of fear and anger. He picked up a chair and hurled it. Jake ducked and chased after him.
“That’s two rulers of Altus you’ve failed to murder,” said Jake. “You won’t get another go.”
Jorge scattered tables in his attempt to escape but trapped himself in the corner of the restaurant. He grabbed a tall iron candlestick and held it like a pitchfork. As Jake drew closer, Jorge jabbed the burning candles at him, spraying his face with hot wax.
“Let’s see how you like a few scars,” sneered Jorge.
Jake cried out as the flames licked his cheeks and scorched his hair. He tried to fend off the attack, but his opponent was stronger than he looked. Jake retreated and spotted a metal tray on a nearby table. He grabbed the makeshift shield and held it up as Jorge threw the candlestick like a flaming spear. Jake deflected the shot, but the force of it knocked him to the floor and onto his back.
Jorge sprinted back across the restaurant and recovered his laser pistol, which he held up triumphantly. He fired in Jake’s direction, shattering an antique mirror and showering the floor with glass. Jake threw himself behind a pillar, cutting his hands and face on the broken fragments. He lay there, breathing hard, trying not to think about the pain.
“I should have known that you’d be hard to kill,” said Jorge. “You’re a survivor, like your father. But now I really must insist that you die, my lord.”
A few tables away, the candlesticks had set fire to a tablecloth and flames were starting to spread.
“Jake?” called out a voice from the doorway.
Kella and Nanoo had returned to the restaurant. Jake could make out their silhouettes through the smoke, framed by the light in the corridor.
“Watch out,” warned Jake. “He’s got a gun!’
&
nbsp; Jorge fired at the door and one of the silhouettes fell backward.
“No!” With a cry of rage, Jake climbed to his feet and charged at Jorge. He leaped off a chair and flew through the air, his cutlass held out in front of him.
Jorge turned at the last moment and fired a single laser bolt, hitting Jake in the chest. A second later, Jake’s blade sank into Jorge’s stomach and the pair of them crashed into the remains of table six.
“Jake?” cried Kella from the corridor. “Are you okay?”
Angry flames flickered and crackled inside the restaurant as water rained down from the sprinklers. Jake lay on the floor with the sword in his hand, its golden blade coated in blood. Jorge Dasch was slumped next to him, dead. Jake looked at his chest, where the laser bolt had struck him. There was a smoking hole in his uniform, under which something glistened in the light. It was his laserproof jacket.
“Wait there!” he shouted, coughing from the smoke. “I’m coming.”
With a final glance at the traitor, Jake took the laser pistol and crawled toward the door. His whole body ached from cuts and bruises, but all he could think about were his friends in the corridor. If Kella was calling his name, then it must have been Nanoo who was shot.
“Is he alive?” asked Jake, reaching the entrance.
Nanoo sat against the corridor wall with his eyes shut. Kella crouched next to him, clutching her last crystal in her hand.
“I okay,” said Nanoo, holding his arm. “That JD?”
“Yes, he was Jorge Dasch, a traitor from Altus. He reckoned that he had seen my dad in the seventh solar system a few months ago. I don’t know what to believe.”
Jake noticed indigo-colored blood seeping through Nanoo’s lilac fingers.
“The laser bolt pierced his arm,” said Kella. “I’ve slowed the bleeding, but we need to get him to a medical bay.”
Jake shook his head. “We don’t have time; the Interstellar Navy is on its way. If we don’t get off this planet fast, we’re all dead.”
“All right,” said Kella. “But let’s find a ship with some decent medical equipment.”