Authors: Zac Harrison
Billows of steam rolled around the bathroom, as John soaked under a soapy spray. “What’s the time, Zepp?” he shouted over noisy jets of water that gushed from all directions.
“It is now five zero three and thirty-two seconds,” the computer replied. “You should think about getting dressed.”
“OK, but could you turn the temperature down? A few seconds of cold should wake me up.”
“
Yeeeow
!
”
John yelled
a second later. “Not that cold! Turn it off. Turn it
OFF
!”
“Awake now?” Zepp seemed to chuckle as the water cut off and whirring fans began blasting John with warm air.
“For a bunch of old wires and circuit boards, you have a real cruel streak. You know that, don’t you?” John complained, as he stepped out of the cubicle, completely dry but still shivering.
“Yes,” said the computer. “This might help you wake up, too.” Loud Earth rock music began playing.
John brushed his teeth, trying to keep his nerves under control. In a few minutes he would have to face the Examiners.
In his mind he went over everything that Sergeant Jegger had taught about flying the Xi-Class Privateer over the past two days. “Speed on the left, direction on the right,” he muttered to himself through a mouthful of foaming toothpaste.
Zepp startled him. “Message from the Examiners. Report immediately to hangar C for your flight test. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” John pulled on his uniform, getting as far as the door before remembering to return to the basin to spit, rinse, and return the toothbrush to its holder.
Kaal’s head emerged from his bed pod just as John was leaving. “Don’t forget,” he said, yawning, “we’re meeting at the Centre for a celebration breakfast after you’ve passed.”
“
If
I pass.”
“You’ll pass,” said Kaal, as the door hissed shut.
* * *
“Proceed,” droned the Examiner.
“Uh, J-John Riley,” said John, his voice shaking.
A hatch opened in the side of the sleek, black spaceship. John sat in the pilot’s MorphSeat, and the harness strapped itself around his body.
One tiny mistake and I’ll be left behind...
he didn’t finish the thought. Instead, he scolded himself, remembering Zepp’s advice. “Get a grip. I
am
good at this, even Jegger said so,” he said out loud.
Feeling slightly more confident, he placed his hands on the armrests of the seat, setting his fingertips on the touchpad controls. Through the ship’s transparent shell, he looked towards the single Examiner floating close by, and nodded. “Computer, disengage docking locks, start engines, and display speed,” he said, pushing down another wave of anxiety.
“Affirmative. Ready to launch, John Riley.”
From the corner of his eye, John saw red lights flash on the blank whiteness of the Examiner’s “head”. Its voice broke in through the Privateer’s intercom. “Manoeuvres. First: circle the deck and make a rotating ninty-degree turn, taking a new stationary position at the hangar bay doors.”
John gulped. As he’d expected, the Examiner wasn’t going to make it easy for him. “Computer: display course heading.” New information flashed up on the transparent skin of the Privateer. John’s fingers were already moving across the touchpads.
He had barely finished the first manoeuvre, when the Examiner issued new commands. One after another, John completed them flawlessly, his confidence growing steadily each time. In the back of his mind he wished Emmie was watching.
This must be how she feels when she’s flying
, he thought to himself. As he took the Privateer around the hangar in a series of turns, rolls, and swoops, he felt – for the first time – like he was a part of the ship.
“Land and exit Xi-Class Privateer,” said the Examiner at last. Its voice gave no clue as to whether it was satisfied or not.
“OK, Riley, last one. Don’t mess this up,” John hissed through gritted teeth, as he brought the spaceship round and lined up for landing. “Computer, display docking guides.”
Carefully, he brought the ship onto the deck. The Privateer landed smoothly. Upon landing, the harness released, and John stumbled out on legs like jelly. He stood to attention in front of the Examiner.
* * *
Hands thrust deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched, and a scowl across his face, John walked out of the TravelTube at the Centre, where most Hyperspace High pupils hung out in their free time. A few metres away his friends were leaning over one of the many balconies, watching students splashing in the waters of the small lake below. Tall trees with pink, yellow, and purple leaves towered over them, stretching towards the enormous clear dome above.
Dodging through the crowd, past Technomancer’s Gamestation and nodding at a few of the beings who wished him good morning, John slouched up to Kaal and Emmie.
“Hi, John,” Emmie started brightly. Seeing the look on his face, her own smile fell. “Oh no,” she continued.
“Bad luck,” said Kaal, clapping him on the shoulder with a strength that made John stagger. “Archivus Major’s not going to be the same without you.”
Unable to keep up the act, John grinned. “I made it!” he yelled. “I
passed
. I’m coming after all. I almost kissed the Examiner when it told me!”
Kaal and Emmie’s faces lit up.
“
Awesome
!
” Kaal yelped with joy, his wings flapping as they always did when he was excited. “Hey, get off him, Tarz. Leave the Earthling alone.”
Reluctantly, John disentangled himself from Emmie’s hug. “So,” he said. “I believe there was talk of a celebration breakfast.”
“Special treat,” said Kaal. “The new Seefood restaurant on balcony eighteen. It’s tough to get in, but I put our names down two days ago.”
“That sounds cool. I love seafood. Never had it for breakfast before, but, hey, I’ve never been examined by a freaky floating robot before, either.”
“You’re going to love it,” said Kaal, clapping him on the shoulder again. “Especially after all that Earth muck you eat.”
Balcony eighteen was on the highest level of the Centre, reached by a revolving, clear TravelTube. It was the first time John had been up so high and he marvelled at the view with awe, wondering what his mates from Earth would say if they were here.
Like a vast shopping mall, the Centre was ringed with balconies, each with its own brightly lit shops and cafés. Even at this time of the morning, it was bustling with beings from every corner of the galaxy. Students who looked as though they had been constructed almost entirely from electronic parts were deep in conversation with creatures that flitted about on dragonfly wings. Some students hovered in anti-gravity suits, others had specially made helmets that allowed them to breathe the atmosphere of their home planets. The strangest being reminded John of a swarm of bees.
“Here we are: Seefood,” said Kaal, as the TravelTube door slid open.
John stared. Across the passageway was a restaurant. Above its door, outlined in pink neon lights, a huge eye winked at him. “Errr... what’s this?” he asked nervously.
“Seefood,” said Emmie, making for the door. “You know: eyeballs. They’ve got Murlian Snowbeast eyeballs, eyeballs of the Deplar Flat Tiger, Pord eyeballs – every kind of eyeball you can think of.”
“She’s joking, isn’t she?” John asked hopefully, looking up at Kaal.
“Why would you think that?” replied Kaal, confused. “I’m having eyeballs of the Twilight Blink Lizard. Absolutely delicious.”
Stomach already heaving, John followed his friends into the restaurant. “Table for three, Zepp,” said Kaal.
“Certainly, Kaal,” Zepp’s voice replied. “The table at the back of the restaurant has been reserved for you.”
The three friends slipped into MorphSeat stools. “And what will you be having this fine morning?” asked Zepp. “May I recommend the Zabda eyes, smothered with retina-fire hot sauce.”
Feeling queasier by the minute, John leaned on the circular silver table and tried to take his mind off eyeballs by looking around. It didn’t help. There were pictures of eyeballs everywhere, as well as decorative jars full of eyeballs and a huge glass eyeball slowly spinning in the middle of the restaurant. Not for the first time, he cursed himself for forgetting about his alien friends’ disgusting eating habits.
“Hmmm, the Zabda eyes sound good but have you got Derrilian Twilight Blink Lizard?” asked Kaal.
“Of course. Seefood has eyeballs from every planet you could name,” Zepp replied. “And for you, Emmie?”
“The Zabda eyes sound good; I’ll start with those,” said Emmie.
“
Excellent
choice. How about you, John?”
“We don’t eat eyeballs on Earth,” said John faintly.
“Actually, that’s not true,” replied the computer. “Many Earthlings enjoy sheep’s eyes. Would you like to try some?” Zepp stopped. “Oh, I just checked. We don’t have any sheep’s eyes. You could try the Jink-Jink eyeballs; they taste almost the same.”
“Is there any chance you could just make me an omelette?”
“
An omelette
?
”
“You know: eggs, a splash of milk, some salt and pepper, butter...”
“I know what an omelette is, John, but are you sure you don’t want to be a little more adventurous?”
“What are
erggs
?” Emmie interrupted.
“Eggs,” Zepp answered. “They come from birds’ bottoms.”
Emmie and Kaal glanced at each other in shock.
“How utterly revolting,” Emmie whispered, managing to sound as sick as John felt. “You Earthlings
eat
them, do you?”
“Yes,” said John firmly. “We do. I’ll have an omelette,
please,
Zepp.”
“If you’re sure. I could put some eyeballs on the side if you like.”
A few moments later, compartments opened in the smooth surface of the table. Dishes containing the food rose from beneath. John inspected his plate to make sure that no eyeballs had been hidden beneath his omelette, then hunched over and kept his own eyes on his breakfast. Even so, he couldn’t help catching a glimpse of large sundae glasses piled high with eyeballs and drenched in blood-red sauce. Making noises of hungry delight, Kaal and Emmie tucked into their food. Silently, John thanked his stars that they were both too busy eating to notice where he was looking. Listening to the wet, slightly crunchy, slurping noises from across the table, he soon began to wish he could stuff his fingers in his ears.
“What’s wrong with John?” asked Gobi-san-Art, who was sitting with Lishtig at the next table. “Why’s he sitting like that?”
“You OK, John?” Kaal’s voice sounded as if he was speaking with his mouth full.
Shielding his eyes from the view with one hand, John lifted his head. “Fine,” he said. “Slight headache. Must be the stress of the examination this morning.”
“Try a Zabda eyeball,” said Emmie, holding one under his nose on the end of a prong.
“Thanks, but no thanks,” John choked, waving it away quickly. “I’m full.”
“Anyway,” Gobi-san-Art cut in, his gravelly voice unmistakable. “What do you want to see first on Archivus Major? I’m hoping it’s the Grand Diamond of Iona. Apparently, it’s as big as a K’laar Whale, glitters like a Dazzle Star, and is carved with pipes that make music when there’s a breeze.”
“
Boring
,” interrupted Lishtig. “If we get the chance, I’m going straight to the Hall of Games. They have a full-scale Darl Labyrinth complete with deathtraps. I bet the Omega-bots won’t let us play, though,” he finished, sounding disappointed. “What about you, Riley?”
“After the last field trip, I just want to keep out of trouble,” replied John, staring at a few centimetres of tabletop. “Nice, safe,
boring
exhibits suits me fine. No volcanoes.”
Kaal chuckled. “I can’t wait to get to the Star Dragon,” he said. “Emmie, you have to get a 4-D photo of me standing next to it. My dad is going to be so jealous.”
“I want to go straight to the Goran–Subo battleground,” said Emmie firmly.
“No way. There’s loads more interesting things to see. Mmmm, these eyeballs are
really
good.”
Stomach churning, John heard a squelch, as the Derrilian popped another into his mouth.
“Are you sure you’re all right, John?” asked Kaal. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”
“It’s nothing,” John croaked. “I’m all right, honestly.”
A chime sounded. “Would students going to Archivus Major please make their way to exit port alpha immediately,” announced Zepp’s voice. “We will be launching in thirty minutes.”
Never before had John been so grateful to leave a restaurant. Making a mental note never to let his friends take him out to eat again, he jumped to his feet. “We’d better go,” he gabbled. “No time to waste.”
“I haven’t finished my eyeballs,” said Kaal. “Maybe I could wrap them in a serviette for later... John, hey,
John
. Wait for us!”
The disgusting breakfast pushed to the back of his mind, John stood outside the changing rooms with his chattering classmates. Looking out of a window at the stars, John felt a familiar wave of excitement surge through him. His forehead creased as he tried to put his finger on exactly what it was. Then he smiled. It was just like going on a family holiday. His dad always made the family get up ridiculously early and pile into the car while it was still dark outside.
We’re in space, it’s always dark outside
, he reminded himself.
John felt a sudden pang of homesickness. He missed his parents. Plus, he missed the feeling of the sun on his face. Even though he had made good friends at Hyperspace High, he missed the company of other humans. Half the time he couldn’t understand what the aliens around him were talking about. Although the ship’s systems modified sound waves to translate every word that anyone spoke into each being’s native language, the other students talked constantly about technologies, planets, and beings that he had never heard of.
Suddenly, the changing-room door opened and John was brought back to the present. “Pay attention,” barked Sergeant Jegger, entering with the headmaster and Ms Vartexia at his side.
Instantly, the buzz of conversation died. No one ever disobeyed the sergeant.
“As you know, you will be spared my company on this trip,” Jegger continued, “for which I am sure you are all truly grateful. But before you go, I want to remind you that you are flying extremely valuable Xi-Class Privateers. I want every single one of them back in one piece. Are you listening, Riley?”
“Sir, yes-sir,” John rapped out.
“Good. So no fancy manoeuvres or risk taking. Yes, I’m looking at you, Talliver. Now, you’ll be piloting your own craft through deep space, which means you’ll need to be suited up. When I call your name, go to a cubicle and change into the SecondSkin pilot’s suit you find there, then report to me for flight checks. Lishtig ar Steero, first cubicle. Bareon, second cubicle, John Riley, third cubicle...”
Adrenalin pumping, John ran a hand down the silver and red spacesuit hanging in his cubicle. It felt like living rubber and rippled beneath his fingers. On a metal bench beside it sat a high-tech helmet, a pair of knee-high boots, and gauntlet gloves, all in the same colours. Quickly, he climbed out of his clothes and transferred them to a bag, then slipped into the spacesuit. It tightened, flowing around him, shaping itself to fit his body exactly.
It was the strangest sensation John had ever felt. Pulling on the boots and gloves, he looked in the mirror. It was immediately clear why the material was called SecondSkin. There was barely a wrinkle in it as he moved. The suit fit him like it had been sprayed on. He pulled on the helmet, feeling the same sensation as the foam-like interior moulded itself to his head.
“Optimum body temperature reached,” said a quiet voice in the helmet. “Processing oxygen. Suit ready.”
“John,” he murmured to himself as he gazed at his reflection, “you are looking
awesome
.”
“Riley, what are you doing in there?” Jegger shouted outside. “Knitting your own spacesuit? Get to the hangar deck on the double.”
On deck, Jegger marched up and down the line of pilots, checking that each of their suits was fitted correctly, paying special attention to Ms Vartexia’s. John wondered briefly if all the staff knew she had a tendency to make mistakes. Lifting the visor of his helmet, he turned to Kaal to make a comment. His friend was looking somewhere else: at the headmaster.
“Something interesting?” John asked.
“It’s nothing. Just a bit weird is all.”
“What?”
Kaal looked down at him. “The headmaster
never
leaves the ship. Even in the holidays.”
John shrugged. “Maybe he feels like a break. He seemed pretty excited about visiting Archivus Major.”
“Maybe you’re right, but it is a bit strange. Makes you wonder if he knows something is going to happen.”
Everyone on Hyperspace High knew that the headmaster could see into the future. As he had explained to John a few weeks earlier, his visions weren’t always clear and sometimes only showed him events that
might
happen, but suddenly John understood Kaal’s concern.
“You think something bad is going to happen?” he asked, starting to feel worried. The last time he had left Hyperspace High, the class had nearly been killed on Zirion Beta.
“Kaal’s just being a worry Wigartian,” Emmie cut in. “We’re going to the most heavily guarded, secure planet in the galaxy. What could possibly go wrong?”
Satisfied that all the SecondSkin spacesuits were functioning correctly, Sergeant Jegger paced to the front of the row. “You will board your craft and launch one at a time,” he ordered. “Join your classmates flying in formation alongside Hyperspace High before setting on a course for Archivus Major. Get to it.” With these last orders, Jegger marched smartly off the deck. Within moments, the hangar would be emptied of air and the bay doors opened. Beyond was space.
Gulp
.
With his heart in his mouth, John climbed into the pilot seat of his Privateer and readied himself for take-off.
Don’t mess this up, Riley
, he told himself silently.
Whatever you do,
do NOT mess this up
.
“Computer, disengage docking locks, start engines, and display speed,” he said, ignoring a fresh wave of anxiety.
“Affirmative. Ready to launch, John Riley,” replied the computer. The Privateer hummed with energy.
From the corner of his eye, John saw a movement. He glanced round to see Kaal holding out three fingers – the Derrilian thumbs up, John had learned. In reply, John mimed wiping sweat from his forehead.
Ahead, the bay doors slid open noiselessly.
Jegger’s voice filled the craft: “Ms Vartexia, would you lead? The headmaster will bring up the rear.”
“Certainly, sergeant.”
John watched in disbelief as the Elvian teacher’s craft swooped smoothly out into space. Ms Vartexia, it seemed, had hidden talents.
One by one the ships took off, some wobbling a little, but all successfully joining Ms Vartexia’s ship. When John’s turn came, he tried to remember how he had felt during the examination. “You are a part of the machine,” he muttered to himself, touching the controls. The Privateer lifted from the deck. He moved his fingers. “Computer, match velocity of Hyperspace High plus fifty,” he said, as the ship zoomed through the open bay door.
“Velocity plus fifty.”
Gently, John turned the craft so that it was heading along the same course as Hyperspace High and fell in with the small queue of waiting ships.
“Launch successful,” said the computer.
John looked around. Taking up most of the view was the vast, elegant bulk of Hyperspace High, glittering with thousands of viewing windows.
Like mosquitoes flying alongside an eagle
, he thought to himself.
The headmaster’s voice broke in on his thoughts. “All ships away. Thank you, sergeant. I’ll take them from here.”
“Jegger signing off. Safe trip.”
“Initiate LightFast engines and set course for Archivus Major,” the headmaster told the small fleet.
“Computer: display astrometric location, initiate hyperspace engines, and set course for Archivus Major,” John ordered.
Complicated readings appeared on the ship’s shell to the right of John’s view, along with a detailed diagram of Archivus Major.
“Coordinates laid in, ready to jump,” the computer told him.
“On my mark,” said Lorem. “In three, two, one...
mark
.”
“
Initiate jump
.” John was scarcely able to breathe with excitement.
Instantly, the small spaceship leaped forward. From the sci-fi movies he’d seen, John expected that a leap to faster-than-light speed would mean all the stars streaming towards him at once, while G-force pressed him back in his seat. In reality, there was a lurching feeling of suddenly reaching a great speed. Hyperspace High disappeared in a blink. Then everything was almost disappointingly normal. Stars passed by – that much was true – but there were no special effects. John had asked Kaal about it once and had been answered with a bewildering speech about dampening fields, quantum astrophysics, and differential drives. John hadn’t understood a word of it.
“All present and correct, Ms Vartexia,” the headmaster’s voice said. “Arrival at Archivus Major in three hours and eight minutes. Students, you may now activate communication relays and talk among yourselves.”
Kaal’s voice came through the ship’s intercom immediately. “You get a great view from the cockpit of a Privateer, don’t you?” he said.
John had to agree. In most of the ships he’d flown in, he’d only been able to look through windows. But since the Xi-Class Privateer’s whole shell was clear, it felt like he was floating through space. John felt himself relaxing as he looked around with new wonder. Not for the first time, he had to remind himself that this was no dream. He really was piloting a spaceship through the galaxy hundreds of light years from his own world.
“You can magnify stuff, too,” Emmie chipped in, as they passed through a solar system. “Take a closer look at the planet to the left.”
“Computer: magnify view of the planet at coordinates seventeen point six point zero zero two...
Wow
.” John gawped in wonder as a view of the planet’s surface appeared on the ship’s skin. A vast ocean of skyscraper-tall waves was being lashed by a hurricane. Here and there great spouts of water whirled into the planet’s upper atmosphere.
“Hey, magnify twenty-three point nine point three zero four,” Kaal interrupted.
John gave the command. A new view filled his screen: a spaceship shaped like an enormous disc and blazing with light. Through a clear dome, similar to Hyperspace High’s, John glimpsed blue water lined with sandy beaches and lush greenery.
“Yarvene pleasure cruiser,” Kaal told him. “Very, very expensive way to get around the galaxy.”
Lishtig’s voice broke into the conversation. “Guys, have you seen the
huuuuge
mining ship? Mordant says it’s one of his dad’s mallux prospectors. No wonder his family’s so rich.”
Within minutes, every spaceship was connected. With the exception of Mordant, who was still sulking about missing the Vapourball Championship, the Hyperspace High students chatted happily to one another as the fleet of Privateers powered through space. Now and then, the headmaster and Ms Vartexia chipped in with interesting facts and information about planets they were passing. Every half hour, John’s computer gave a status update. The ships were crossing light years in less time than it took to drive across his home town during rush hour.
“Now approaching Archivus Major,” the computer reported eventually. “Dropping out of hyperspace. Landing procedures initiated. Prepare for return to manual.”
“Affirmative. Return to manual.” Ahead was the planet that John had last seen on the 3-D screens in Ms Vartexia’s classroom. In orbit around it was a network of security satellites, each – John knew – heavily armed to prevent unauthorized landings on the planet.
“Formation alpha twelve,” Lorem’s voice commanded briskly. “Take positions. We’ll be landing one at a time. Each craft will be escorted in by Omega-bots. Do not be alarmed when you see them. Take it slow and remember what Sergeant Jegger taught you.”
Gritting his teeth, John took the controls again, his anxiety returning. Take-off was always nerve-wracking, but landing was harder, and this time he wasn’t making a simple approach to the hangar deck of Hyperspace High. This time he would be entering the atmosphere of a strange planet and landing at an unfamiliar docking port.
In an instant, the Privateer’s cockpit was filled with bright yellow light, flashing from the nearest satellite. John covered his eyes in confusion.
“The DNA scan,” the headmaster said reassuringly. “It will be over soon.”
As Lorem had predicted, the light blinked off two seconds later. John watched as Ms Vartexia’s ship peeled and dived towards the planet below. His palms felt sweaty in the SecondSkin gloves. As the planet revolved beneath him, John caught himself wondering what he would be doing if he had returned to Earth and gone to Wortham Court.
Nothing as exciting as this.
Lorem’s voice announced, “John Riley, you’re clear to land.”
“Computer, display docking guides.” Data appeared on the screen, and the landing beacon flashed in the centre. “Here we go,” John muttered, as his fingers moved across the touchpads. The Privateer turned slightly, lining up with the docking sight. John dropped the craft’s nose and dived towards the planet.
The small spaceship shook as it hit the atmosphere. Clouds streamed by, cutting visibility to zero. With only the indicators on the ship’s shell to guide him, John felt panic rising.
Too fast, too fast!
He was through the clouds. Beneath, land was rushing up to meet him: a patchwork of different environments and sprawling building complexes. Outside, something moved to take position by the window.
John turned his head and looked straight down the barrel of a gun.