Orion Lost

by Alastair Chisholm

  She nodded to Beth and limped away.

  6

  Videshi

  They Jumped four more times that month. Each time, Beth climbed into the pod and felt the long blink of unconsciousness, and the endless winding path back to herself. And each time she went through the same terrifying sensation of having no control, no way to reconnect.

  She tried passively waiting, like Mikkel, trusting in the grown-ups and their reassurance that the feeling would go away, but it always seemed too long. She tried thinking of it like a computer problem, like Lauryn, but she couldn’t work out the right code. But each time she did Wake eventually, and hauled herself, cursing, out of the pod, stumbling to the ground. At least she could manage that now.

  With each Jump, the Orion and its crew skipped unimaginable distances. Billions of kilometres, spans that would have taken hundreds of years in normal space. Each one was only a tiny step towards their destination.

  They were out of regular communications range now. Signals home would take far too long, so the Orion used messaging shuttles – tiny unmanned spacecraft that could Jump, and which quickly travelled back to Earth with messages from the crew. Occasionally they returned with updates, but these were rare; to all intents and purposes they were alone.

  On the fourth Jump, they were not alone.

  They were in class when it happened. Ms Cordoso was showing them pictures of Eos Five, its landmasses, oceans and seas, major rivers.

  “Almost none of these geographical features have been named,” she said. “When you arrive as some of the first colonists, one of your duties will be to name them. Arnold, what name would you give this mountain?”

  “Um … I don’t know. Mount Everest?”

  She gave him a warm smile. “Sure, we might name some of them after points at home. Lots of colonists did – New Amsterdam, which became New York, for example. Or we might name them after the colonists themselves – like Rondônia in my country. Or after someone special. Who would you pick?”

  The large, clumsy boy looked lost for words, and he fidgeted. “Uh … Mount … Gloria, ma’am? That’s, uh – that’s my mom’s name.”

  Some of the children sniggered and Arnold blushed, but Ms Cordoso smiled again. “That’s a lovely idea. I’m sure your mother would be very pleased with—”

  “ATTENTION. ATTENTION. STOP ALL NON-ESSENTIAL ACTIVITY. PROCEED TO SLEEP PODS IMMEDIATELY. REPEAT: PROCEED TO SLEEP PODS IMMEDIATELY.”

  Ship’s head appeared on the classroom screens. “Please exit this class and follow these lights to the sleep pods. Please leave all bags behind.” Its face looked as calm as ever. The children stared.

  “Th-thank you, Ship,” said Ms Cordoso. “Children, could you—”

  “What is happening?” asked Lucille, the small French girl. “What is— What is happening? Que se passe-t-il? Are we in danger? What is—”

  Ms Cordoso held up her hands. “It’s all right, everybody; this is just a Jump. Come on, as we practised, everybody up.”

  Vihaan and Arnold were already standing, ready to move, and so was Mikkel. Beth stood and nudged Lauryn on the shoulder. Lauryn was tapping furiously at her pad and Beth had to haul her to her feet.

  She leaned over to Lucille. “It’s OK, Lucy,” she said, as cheerfully as she could manage. “It’s probably just a drill.”

  Lucille looked at her with a face full of worry, but nodded back. “Oui.”

  They went out of the classroom, joining a stream of older and younger children. The younger ones seemed excited; the older ones tried to look bored, as if it was all routine. Beth wasn’t fooled. This wasn’t a drill. She could feel it.

  “What do you think it is?” she asked Mikkel.

  He thought. “It could be Scrapers.”

  Beth shuddered.

  Across all of known space, it seemed inevitable that the most likely threat was not the vacuum, not asteroids, not even alien life forms – it was other humans. Nomadic groups of thieves, pirates and murderers, living off the supplies of their victims. Some claimed to be legitimate organisations with genuine grievances; some claimed they were persecuted and only wanted to live their own lives. Others made no such claim, and simply took everything they could. Food, fuel, equipment – even slaves. They could strip a colony ship down to dust floating in space. The groups had different names, but collectively they were known as Scrapers.

  Whispers raced along the line. Scrapers. Could be Scrapers. We’ve been boarded by Scrapers. They’ve taken the cargo bay. They’re cutting into the bridge—

  Ship’s head appeared. In fact, its head appeared in several points along the line of children, all speaking in unison.

  “Please stay calm,” it said. “This is not a Scraper attack. Proceed to the sleep pods. I repeat: this is not a Scraper attack.”

  “You heard Ship,” called Vihaan with a voice full of authority. “All we have to do is get to the pods – without any more scaremongering.” He gave Mikkel a stern glare, but Mikkel shrugged.

  They stumbled down to their pod room. There were no parents this time; the adults were all at their posts.

  Lucille said, “If we have to Jump, what will happen to the crew?”

  “They have Sleep discs on their necks,” said Mikkel. “So they can do emergency Sleeps.”

  Beth turned round. “Come on, Lauryn,” she blurted in exasperation. “Get to your pod!”

  Lauryn hadn’t stopped tapping all the way down the corridor; Beth had practically had to steer her the whole way. Now Lauryn pressed a button and gazed at the screen. “There,” she whispered. She looked up and waved the pad. “That’s what’s out there.”

  The screen was an image of space, with a tiny dot of light in one corner. Lauryn activated the projector on her pad and zoomed in on the dot of light, and it became a ship.

  “Non,” whispered Lucille.

  Scrapers were terrifying, ruthless and cruel, barbaric. They were mostly awful people, living off others’ misery. But still, they were human. There was a connection of some sort.

  This … was alien.

  Videshi.

  It was difficult to tell how big it was. It was like no human ship ever built. Long, thin tendrils wafted out behind its hull, like a jellyfish floating through space. The tendrils were many times the length of the Orion. It was lit up all over in some way, as if fluorescent, with a pale, pinkish-blue glow.

  It had no name, nor any marking that Beth could make out. After a long silence, Mikkel said, “It is a Protector class. That means it is … like a border guard.”

  “Is it going to attack?”

  Mikkel raised his arms in a shrug. “Maybe. If they thought we were being hostile, or entering their space…”

  “What’s that?” asked Beth. There was a smaller dot between the Orion and the alien vessel. It was darting back and forth, but always keeping between the two.

  “It’s a ship,” said Arnold. “Hey, it’s the Sparrowhawk!”

  “Captain Kier!” gasped Lauryn. She made a sudden, odd squeaking sound and nearly dropped her pad, and Beth looked at her in surprise.

  “Is it him?” Lauryn asked. She sounded as if she’d inhaled helium.

  Vihaan rolled his eyes but nodded. “Yes,” he said. “He is keeping himself between us and the enemy.”

  “They’re not the enemy,” Beth said. “They’re just different.”

  Vihaan shrugged.

  “It’s moving,” said Arnold. His eyes glittered in excitement. “It’s heading towards us.”

  He was right. The peculiar, jellyfish-like ship was closer now, and its tendrils seemed less random. The Sparrowhawk was forced to retreat, and the children stared, breathless, as the alien craft came closer … closer…

  The screen blanked suddenly and Ship’s head appeared. “Please get into your sleep pods now,” it said.

  “Are we being attacked?” asked Vihaan, his voice steady.

  “No. We are being approached. By the terms of our agreements with the Videshi, we
are leaving this point in space immediately.”

  “But if we do not, they will attack, yes?” asked Lucille.

  Ship said, “We are leaving immediately. Please get into your pods or I will contact your parents. Please do so now.”

  Reluctantly they climbed into the sleep pods. Beth smelled the now familiar scent of disinfected plastic around her and looked up for her mum, but of course she wasn’t there. She could hear Lucille in the next pod trying not to cry. She could hear her own heart, beating in a disjointed, frantic rhythm.

  We will be fine, she thought. We will be fine.

  We will be fine.

  She closed her eyes.

  7

  Small Lies

  Later, Beth wrote: Mum and Dad were there when I Woke. They said the Jump went fine; there was nothing to worry about.

  She looked around the tiny niche where she was sitting, an awkward gap behind her desk just big enough to squeeze into. With her back against the wall it was actually quite comfortable.

  Lauryn’s in trouble for hacking the system again. Ship was going to take her pad away!

  Ship had been ready to do it, too. But to Beth’s own surprise she’d found herself stepping forward.

  “I ordered her to do that,” she’d said.

  Lauryn had stared. Ship’s face had been as expressionless as ever.

  “I have reviewed my surveillance videos,” it had said. “You did not give this order. You have no command authority over Lauryn.”

  “It was … a secret command,” Beth had said lamely. “I said it came from you.”

  Ship had gazed at her. “Very well. Lauryn, you are on your last warning. Beth, you lied to your colleague and used her to interfere with ship systems. This will be reported.”

  “Fine.” Beth had turned away, then turned back. “But you could have just told us what was going on!”

  “Lauryn’s actions caused panic and delayed our Jump. My programming directs me to limit access to information that could reduce safety. Beth, please write a report describing the code you used to pass orders to Lauryn and send it to me.”

  Beth wrote, I had to make up a pretend thing I did and say it was a code for “go hack the system and report back”. It was so stupid. Ship won’t let us have any secrets. It watches us all the time; it listens to conversations… It’s actually pretty creepy…

  That was the other thing she liked about the niche. She’d checked a dozen times and she was sure there were no cameras anywhere within her line of sight; this was one of the few spots on Orion where Ship couldn’t spy on her.

  The next day, when they entered the schoolroom, Ms Cordoso wasn’t there. Instead, Captain Kier was waiting for them.

  He wasn’t wearing his white formal suit this time, but a battered grey flight jacket and heavy black boots. He leaned against Ms Cordoso’s desk with his arms folded, and smiled at each of them as they entered; when Lauryn saw him she made a tiny ‘eek’ noise and her face went bright red, and she tripped over her terminal.

  No one spoke. The children looked at each other with raised eyebrows but stayed silent. When everyone had sat down, Kier coughed.

  “Good morning, guys,” he said. “Ms Cordoso will be along in a little while, but I wanted to talk to you first. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Captain Kier. I fly the Sparrowhawk, and my job is to watch for any dangerous or strange situations and check them out.”

  He grinned. “So, yesterday was a fun day for me.”

  The class smiled back.

  Captain Kier nodded. “I’m here because you’ve probably got questions about what happened. I’m working my way round the classes. They thought I might be a friendly face. Apparently half the crew are more scared of Captain Joshi than they are of the Videshi.”

  The children laughed and Kier winked at Vihaan. “Just kidding, Vee. Don’t tell your dad I said that.” Vihaan nodded and smiled, and Beth stared, amazed. He obviously knew Kier already, she realised. The expression on Vihaan’s face was part embarrassment, part hero worship.

  “So – yesterday we had an unexpected encounter with a Videshi Protector-class vessel, and everyone got spooked, and I’m here to explain what happened. Here’s the story.

  “The Videshi are a little mysterious, and we don’t always know what they want. But they’re not aggressive and there’s never been a major conflict with them. Sometimes we come across their ships when we Jump, like we did yesterday. When that happens … we go away.”

  He shrugged. “And that’s what happened. That’s all there is to it.”

  He smiled as he talked, and he was relaxed, and Beth felt the others relaxing in turn. It wasn’t so much the words as the way he said them – the confident captain reassuring his crew. His arms were still loosely folded, his manner was casual. Everything was OK.

  Without even thinking about it, she spoke up. “That’s not true.”

  Kier frowned. “Pardon me?”

  Beth almost slapped her hands over her mouth. The others turned and stared at her. Vihaan looked angry. Arnold rolled his eyes.

  “Shut up,” he hissed, but Kier raised a hand and shushed him. He looked at Beth.

  “Something you want to say?”

  He didn’t seem angry, only surprised, and, she thought, a little amused. Beth stared back, sweat pricking across her forehead and heat radiating from her cheeks. Shut. Up. But there was no alternative, so she pressed ahead.

  “That’s not all there was to it,” she said. “Everyone was scared yesterday. Not just us. Grown-ups. Ms Cordoso. Even Ship. You were in the Sparrowhawk. I mean … there was more to it. Something you’re not telling us.”

  Vihaan seemed furious now. “This is Captain Kier—”

  But Kier was shaking his head and laughing. He rubbed a hand over his face and waved to Vihaan to stop him.

  “It’s Beth, right?” he asked. “Beth McKay?”

  “Um … yes.”

  He nodded. “We met before, I remember. You know, I’ve given this speech six times so far. I’ve talked to three maintenance crews and all the older kids.” He grinned. “You’re the first one who’s realised it’s rubbish.”

  Beth stared at him. Arnold spoke up. “Is she … right, then?”

  Kier shrugged. “Well … what I’ve told you is the official line. But—”

  There was a shimmer in the corner of the classroom, and Ship’s head appeared.

  “Captain Kier,” it said, “please remember to keep all communications within official guidelines.”

  The children looked at it, and then at Kier. His mouth twisted as if eating something sour. “Yes, thank you, Ship,” he said. “I think I can handle it. Goodbye.”

  Ship said, “The guidelines are there for the safety of the crew—”

  “Goodbye, Ship,” said Kier.

  His voice was dismissive, and after a moment the image faded out. Kier gave the class a lopsided smile. “Look – there aren’t any big secrets here,” he said. “But some things we play down.”

  He turned to the screen behind him. “Here’s what we know about the Videshi,” he said. He wrote:

  – Technologically advanced

  – Protective

  – Non-aggressive?

  “And here’s what we don’t.”

  – Where they come from

  – What they look like

  – What they want

  – Everything else

  He stepped back.

  “We know some of their language,” he said. “A few of you are studying Videshi, yeah?” Mikkel nodded. “They can understand our words, and we can understand theirs, a little.

  “But they just don’t want to talk. They don’t want to be near us; they don’t even want us to know what they look like. We’ve never even seen a Videshi, we’ve never seen inside their ships, we’ve never seen a Videshi colony, we don’t know where their home world is.” He shrugged. “The Videshi are … strange.”

  “Are they more powerful than us?” asked Lucille
.

  “No,” said Arnold scornfully.

  “Yes,” said Mikkel.

  Vihaan stayed silent.

  “…Kind of.” Kier seemed to be choosing his words. “Their ships are very tough. Our normal weapons pretty much bounce off them. In a fight they could Jump away before we could do any real damage. They’ve been in space a lot longer than we have.”

  He shook his head. “We just don’t know. So when we pop out of Jump and see a Protector sitting there, yeah, we get spooked. And I go out and do my little dance in front of them, although I’ve no idea what I’m supposed to be doing. And we leave, and we don’t use that Jump point any more.”

  He looked straight at Beth. “So, there you go. There’s probably nothing to worry about. How’s that?”

  She grinned back and said, “Better.”

  “What about the Scrapers?” asked Arnold.

  The captain frowned. “How do you mean?”

  “Well … what aren’t they telling us about them?”

  Kier laughed and held his hands up. “Guys, I’m not suddenly your snitch! And it’s not like these are secrets. It’s just some things are complicated.”

  He shrugged. “Scrapers are complicated. Some of them are genuine pirates – real kill-you-dead scum. Some are different. Earth doesn’t have as tight a hold out here as we like to think. There are colonies that have broken off contact with us, and we tend to call them Scrapers, too.

  “They’re not all bad. I even know some of them. I’ve dealt with them…”

  He shook his head. “That’s it,” he said. “Ms Cordoso will be here soon for your normal classes. I’ve got three other groups to reassure. Do me a favour?” He smiled. “Don’t repeat this to anyone, OK?”

  They smiled back, just as Ms Cordoso returned to the class, and Captain Kier nodded to her and left. She looked at the screen for a moment, wiped it and then turned and beamed at the children.

  “Good morning, class,” she said in a bright voice. “We will continue now with our Eos Five studies – please open your monitors and log in.”