Lost Planet 01 - The Lost Planet

by Searles, Rachel

Parker made a face. “She’s an android. How much trouble do you think you can get into?”

  “Uh, for starters she can lock me back in this room.”

  “Which she will,” said Parker with a shrug. “But this is your one chance to escape for a little while and do some searching of your own. Do you really want to stay locked in here for the next week?”

  It was a simple enough decision. Mina and Dr. Silvestri weren’t going anywhere—he’d still have the chance to learn what his connection to Asa Kaplan was when the time came. Besides, Mina wouldn’t even be able to contact Asa for at least another day, and this would give Chase a chance to ask Parker what he knew about his mysterious guardian. He was willing to live with a little scolding for the possibility of unlocking even a tiny portion of his memory.

  Chase threw off the covers and jumped out of bed. “Wait. Are we going to have to teleport?”

  “Never. I’ve got a much better plan. Now put on something besides those dumb pajamas and meet me in the hall.”

  Digging up some jeans and a clean shirt from a closet Parker pointed out, Chase dressed quickly, a small smile on his face. He couldn’t believe that Parker had reached out to help him. At last he’d realized that Chase needed something more than virtual piloting games.

  Parker was waiting for him in the foyer, and Chase followed him downstairs, where at the end of the hall they came to a bright, cavernous chamber at least three times the size of the living room. In the middle of the chamber, a long silver rectangle of a machine rested on squat metal legs. A row of nozzles lined each side of the craft, and the end facing them was made up almost entirely of a wide, reflective window.

  “Ever seen one of these babies?” Parker asked, smacking the shiny metal.

  “Um…” Chase wasn’t sure how to answer that. Of course not? Probably?

  “It’s a Pentagalactic Starjumper, elite class.” Parker pulled a slim metal card from within his jacket with a triumphant flourish.

  Chase took in every detail of the vehicle, from the outlines of different access panels that covered its long sides, to the small yellow sign marked Cargo Egress above a door near the back. Everything about the Starjumper felt completely foreign to him. “You’re allowed to take it out?”

  “He who hacks the drivekey has the right to pilot.” Parker pushed the card into a slot on the side of the vehicle, and an adjacent door popped free with a hiss and slid open.

  “Do you know how?”

  In response, Parker rolled his eyes before jumping up into the vehicle.

  By the time Chase climbed inside, Parker was already in the pilot’s seat. His fingers flew over a glowing console screen under the window, scrolling through lists and moving different information windows across the screen. The door slid closed.

  “Door is closed,” a neutral voice confirmed.

  “Ugh,” muttered Parker. “Why does she always leave the operational voice on?”

  “Accessing CFC. CFC online,” said the voice.

  “CFC?” asked Chase.

  “Coordinated Flight Channels,” said Parker as he typed on the console. “It’s the planet’s central navigating system. You type in where you want to go, and the CFC slots you into the traffic streams and takes you there.” He flicked through a few windows before leaning back in his seat, and looked over, his eyes dancing. “Are you ready? Lords, this is awesome. I’ve been wanting to do this for ages.”

  “Plotting course,” said the neutral voice. “Preparing to exit defense dome.”

  Chase squinted as a bright shaft of light hit his eyes. Sunlight streamed in from a gap as the ceiling rolled away, slowly expanding until all they could see was the pale yellow of an early morning sky. Without Parker touching anything, the vehicle rose up, gliding out of the chamber and above the gray structures of the compound. Beyond it, the grass forest spread out in green waves. A single Zinnjerha leapt out and ricocheted off the defense dome. As they flew farther away, the vegetation tapered off into a rocky desert that stretched on as far as he could see.

  Chase squinted at the horizon, wondering when the city would come into view, when the cruiser accelerated upward, pulling away from the terrain. He gripped the edge of the console and held his breath. It was still better than teleporting.

  “Extraplanetary launch point in thirty seconds,” said the console voice.

  “Launch point?” A spike of adrenaline shot through Chase as he looked at the jumble of information on the console. “Where are we going? I thought you said we were going to the city?”

  Parker’s mouth curled up in a sly grin. “It’s … a city.”

  “In five, four, three, two…”

  With a sharp turn, the Starjumper rocketed straight up away from the ground. Through half-closed eyes, Chase could see only ochre-hued sky in front of them. His stomach flattened against his spine.

  “I’m gonna be sick,” he groaned.

  “No way!” said Parker. “This is the best part.” He looked down at the console. “About twenty more seconds until we leave the macrosphere.”

  “What?”

  “Just watch.”

  Chase tried to lean forward, but the force of their flight pushed him back into his seat.

  “Initializing gravity generator,” the neutral voice informed them. A moment later, although they were still flying straight up, the gravity inside the vehicle shifted to the floor. Chase lifted his arm, amazed—it felt no different from when they’d been sitting inside the vehicle at Parker’s home. Outside the windows, the sky darkened quickly into black space.

  “Awesome,” breathed Parker. “We’ve got about fifteen minutes to go, so you can chill out for a while.”

  “Fifteen minutes until what?” Chase asked. It irritated him that Parker had lied about their destination, but this was nothing compared with the anxiety that had begun to gnaw at his stomach. He had no idea how far from Trucon they were going—or if Mina could follow Parker’s microchip this far, in case something happened. “Where are you taking me?”

  Parker leaned back in his seat and smiled, saying nothing.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Chase glared out the front window as they traveled toward Parker’s secret destination. Outside their cruiser, the dark expanse of space wasn’t really dark at all. Peppered with millions of the tiny white speckles of distant stars and streaked with pale smears of far-off galaxies, it made him realize how incredibly tiny he was, and underscored how lost he felt.

  “You’re a jerk, you know that? Tell me where you’re taking me.”

  For a split second, a hurt expression crossed Parker’s face. Annoyance quickly replaced it. “Would you relax? I just want to go somewhere without her looking over my shoulder the whole time.”

  “You mean Mina?”

  “Stupid machine,” said Parker, stabbing at the console with one finger. “She runs my entire stupid life.”

  “So you thought it’d be a good idea to kidnap me?”

  “I’m not kidnapping you. Calm down. I told you, we’re on a mission to figure out who you are.”

  “Right, because that’s what you were thinking when you lied to me about where we were going. Are you at least going to tell me now?”

  Parker hesitated. “Mircona.”

  Chase shook his head. “What’s that?”

  “Mircona, the moon. Trucon’s moon.”

  “The moon? What are we going to do there?”

  “I don’t know, have some fun. It’s a cool place.”

  “Have some fun? So this wasn’t about helping me at all.”

  Parker rolled his eyes in annoyance. “What’s wrong with having a little fun? We can still ask questions, look for things you might recognize.”

  “Did you forget about the blaster wound on the back of my head? I need to figure out who did that to me, not go on a vacation!” Chase pointed at the console. “This was a terrible idea. Take me back.”

  A frown creased Parker’s forehead. “Look, I promise nothing bad is going to happen.
We’ll go to Mircona for thirty minutes, and if that doesn’t bring back any memories, then we’ll go back to Trucon and try something else.”

  Chase drummed his fingers against the console and looked away. It wasn’t like he could make Parker do anything—he’d given up that option as soon as he’d stepped into a space cruiser that he knew neither how nor where to pilot. There was basically no choice but to go with Parker and hope that something on the moon would spark a memory.

  And anyway, Parker was probably right—nothing would happen. They’d be back at the compound before anyone knew they were gone.

  “Fine,” he muttered. “Thirty minutes.”

  “It’ll be fun. Look, there it is.” Looming ahead was the curve of a colossal tan sphere. As they zoomed closer to the sandy surface, a sprawling cluster of buildings came into view in the distance, their drab and featureless exteriors bleached out in the harsh sunlight.

  “It doesn’t look like much fun,” said Chase.

  “The atmosphere on Mircona’s too thin to go outside. Everything’s indoors, but it’s supposed to be this really cool past-era resort.” Parker leaned over the console again, scrolling through screens.

  “You’ve never been?”

  “Not yet,” said Parker with a small smile. “I’m going to put us in an autodocking facility. We can take a transway into the city, check it out, and swing back. Sound good?”

  “Whatever.” A patchwork of enormous, windowless structures in various sizes stretched out below them, all connected by ridged metal tunnels. Different logos were painted on the roofs of the buildings. Chase squinted to read the print on one: Mirconan Leisure Endeavors. As the city scrolled by, Chase grew curious to see what was inside the buildings, but he didn’t say anything. If Parker knew he was having fun, they’d probably never leave.

  They dropped toward the surface, flying just above the vast cityscape. Traffic was sparse, and only a few other vehicles whizzed by in the distance. The Starjumper plunged lower and slowed as they neared the closest building. Chase caught a glimpse of a doorway expanding in the wall, but as they pulled up to it, the vehicle swung around automatically. The bleak landscape of Mircona filled their window, and looming in the distance, the gigantic orb of Trucon, sandy-brown with patches of dark vegetation. The Starjumper backed gently into the structure.

  “Disengaging CFC,” said the neutral voice. “Equalizing pressure, please do not exit.” The outer wall slid shut before them, cutting off their view and enclosing them in the snug metal box of the docking compartment. Chase waited in his seat while Parker shut down the console.

  “Ready?” Parker tucked the drivekey into his pocket and stood, a nervous grin on his face.

  They exited through a door at the back of their docking compartment, where Parker entered a code on a small screen to lock the Starjumper inside. He led Chase down a long tunnel until it intersected a hallway with a high, arched ceiling.

  “After you,” said Parker.

  Chase took one step forward into the hallway. Immediately his feet swept out from under him, and he fell on his back with a shout. Parker laughed as he receded in the distance, while the floor somehow carried Chase farther away.

  “What is this?” Chase shouted angrily, trying to get to his feet.

  Parker leapt onto the moving walkway and jogged over to help him up. “That was hilarious.”

  “Jerk,” said Chase, rubbing his hip where he had landed.

  “It was just a guess, but I figured you’d probably never used a transway.”

  “I can’t even tell that it’s moving,” said Chase, looking down at the stationary floor as his feet traveled forward.

  “It’s a current moving through a layer of adamantine,” explained Parker. “See the blue lights along the wall? That’s how you know it’s a transway. Don’t step over the line in the middle—that side’s moving the other direction.” He grinned. “Come on.”

  They set off at a brisk pace down the long hallway, passing a few standing passengers who paid them no attention. There was a wide opening at the end of the tunnel, and this time Parker gave a warning when the transway was about to end. They stepped off as they exited the tunnel and stopped for their first real look at Mircona.

  Although there obviously had to be a ceiling somewhere, the interior of the building had been created to make it appear as though they were standing in the middle of an open park under a wide blue sky. A few ragged clouds drifted past on a gentle wind. In the distance they could see trees and benches, and a couple picnicking on a hill.

  “This is amazing,” breathed Parker.

  “Clear out, you’re blocking the way!” screeched a high voice, and both boys jumped and moved aside to make way for an angry old woman who huffed past them. Chase glanced back at the transway tunnel. From the park side, it was camouflaged as an arched entrance to a small brick building.

  “Come on,” said Parker. The boys started down a paved path that led across the park and toward a large stone building. When they entered, they found themselves in another transway.

  “Aren’t we going to get lost?” asked Chase as they moved down the tunnel.

  “Absolutely not. Step right. This is going to split.”

  Chase tried to commit their path to memory so that he could find his way back, but the transway split several times, and soon he was utterly disoriented. When they finally reached the end of the last tunnel, they stepped out into a quaint street lined with small eateries and storefronts. There were no vehicles here, only people who bustled along under the slanting sunlight, haggling with street vendors and filling the tables of small cafés.

  As they walked, Chase looked around at the shops and the street vendors’ wares on display. He tried to open himself up to the surroundings, to loosen his mind so that there was a place for an image or a sound, anything, to fit. He was watching a woman in a long dress scooping amber crystals into a paper cone, and nearly crashed into Parker’s back because he didn’t see that he had stopped. Parker was looking down at a display of random, tarnished junk laid out on a dirty blanket. A sallow man sat cross-legged behind his merchandise.

  “Want something special for yourself?” the man asked, waving his hands over the blanket. “Take a closer look, son.”

  Parker crouched down to examine the items, picking up several different things—a flat metal box, a triangular badge of some sort, and an instrument that looked distantly related to a harmonica.

  “How much for this?” he asked, pointing to a slim knife in a green sheath.

  The man jutted out his lower lip. “That’s genuine Falasian craftsmanship, sharp enough to shave an atom off an apple. Can’t give that one away for a song.”

  “Try me,” said Parker. He leaned over the blanket and picked up the sheathed knife, waving it in the man’s face. “My daddy’s given me extra spending money today.”

  Chase watched over Parker’s shoulder as the two haggled over a price. Negotiations were brief, and soon Parker reached into his jacket pocket and counted out a number of thin plastic chips. The man bared his ragged teeth in a leer as he took the currency. “Have a good day, boys.”

  Parker walked away smiling. “How much did you pay for that?” Chase asked him.

  “Too much,” he replied cryptically. After they had walked a little farther up the street, he added, “But not as much as I would have paid for this.” He held out his hand and flicked his wrist, and something fell from inside his sleeve and into his palm. It was the badge that he had examined on the blanket, a dull silver triangle decorated with three horizontal stripes.

  “You stole it?” Chase looked back to see if the junk merchant was coming after them, but there were so many people on the street, the man was already long gone from view. “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

  “Whatever. It was probably stolen to begin with. And he would have charged a lot more than I paid for the knife if he’d seen that this was what I was interested in.” He tucked the badge and dagger back into h
is jacket. “I mean, don’t get too excited. It could just be the access badge to a gasket factory. It’ll be fun trying to decode it when we get home.”

  Ahead of them, the flow of pedestrians curved out in a wide arc, and everyone seemed to be keeping their heads down.

  “What’s that?” Chase asked, just as he saw what people were avoiding. Standing against a wall were two men in dark gray uniforms with elliptical badges. They monitored the activity on the street with flat eyes.

  “Federal Fleet soldiers,” muttered Parker, joining the stream of people. “Just keep your distance.”

  Chase couldn’t help but glance over as they passed the soldiers. A tiny ripple of anxiety crawled under his skin, but only because of the way the other pedestrians were acting. The soldiers didn’t fit anywhere in his mind either.

  When they’d put a decent distance between themselves and the soldiers, Parker stopped and looked around. “Alright. I think I’ve seen enough of this.”

  “Let’s head back,” said Chase. The moon was fascinating, but nothing was triggering any memories. If they left soon, maybe there would still be time to go to the city on Trucon.

  “Cool your jets. First let’s go sit down somewhere.” Parker cut through the crowd to an eatery with a narrow door and greasy windows. The inside was dark and smoky and filled with quiet men hunched over their drinks. Parker found a table near the windows, where he took out his stolen badge and began to fiddle with it.

  Chase looked around to see if anyone was watching them. “Shouldn’t you be hiding that?”

  “Relax.” Parker frowned, turning it over. “It’s just a piece of junk.”

  A broad, tired-looking waitress slouched up to their table. “What’ll it be?” she asked.

  “My young friend here will have a Nevna fizz, and I’ll have a pint of your best Lyolian ale,” said Parker. The waitress arched an eyebrow, muttering something under her breath as she walked away.

  Parker set the badge on the table and leaned back in his chair. “So, anything coming back to you yet?”

  Chase shook his head. “I’ll have to wait and see what else Dr. Silvestri can find out.” He paused, examining his hands. Now was the time to start asking questions. “So, what exactly does Asa do?”