Authors: Zac Harrison
John talked and talked, hardly taking time to draw breath, his gaze fixed on Kaal’s face. He talked about the fun they would have playing their virtual-reality games when Kaal recovered, about their adventures on Zirion Beta and Archivus Major, winning the Robot Warriors’ competition, visiting the scholars of Kerallin, and the deadly battle they fought at the Space Spectacular.
“It’s been a really full-on couple of months,” he told his friend. “Let’s hope we can get through next term without being in grave danger every five minutes.” He paused for a moment, then continued quietly, “That’s if I make it back next term. I totally messed up the Hyperspace History exam.”
For the first time, Kaal’s eyelids flickered. John leaned forward. “Kaal?” he whispered. “Can you hear me?”
The Meteor Medic floated forward. “
Visit terminated
,” it said.
“But he can hear me,” said John. “His eyes moved. I’m getting through to him.”
“
Leave immediately
,” the droid droned, “
or the Examiners will be informed
.”
There was no choice but to leave. Telling Kaal he would be back as soon as possible, John walked out of the isolation room and into the reception area. It was empty now. He paused, guessing that the doctor had gone to the new emergency ward in the 4-D cinema. Turning, John looked through the screen to the quarantine ward. Emmie lay on a bed near the far end of the room, her fearful eyes staring up at the ceiling. As he watched, a pale blue tear ran down her cheek.
John felt his heart lurch in his chest.
Dr Kasaria didn’t say I couldn’t visit Emmie, too
, he told himself, already moving towards the disinfectant field that led into the ward.
I won’t disturb anyone; I’ll just spend a few minutes with her.
“
Stop
,” droned an electronic voice behind him. “
Rule number five-zero-four: no student is to enter the quarantine ward
.”
Unseen by John, an Examiner had floated through the medical wing’s main doors.
But John didn’t stop. “It’s OK!” he called over his shoulder. “Dr Kasaria knows I’m here and I’m immune, there’s no dang—”
A haze of green appeared around John, holding him in place, one foot through the disinfectant field.
“
Rule number zero-zero-eight-three: Examiners are to be obeyed at all times. Punishment for non-compliance
—”
A ball of light flashed through the wall and sparkled into the form of the headmaster. “I will deal with this,” Lorem said sternly.
The force field flicked off. Able to move again, John turned to face Lorem. The headmaster looked grave.
Uh-oh, I’m in trouble now.
“Take a walk with me, John,” Lorem said, striding towards the door.
The tone of his voice made John’s feet start moving before Lorem had even finished his sentence. “I just wanted to see Emmie, sir,” he explained, as he followed the headmaster out into the corridor. “I wasn’t going to stay long...”
Lorem raised his hand, and John immediately stopped talking, walking in silence as the white-robed headmaster turned and strode along an empty corridor that ended at one of Hyperspace High’s observation decks.
Ignoring the comfortable MorphSeats, Lorem crossed the floor, standing at the edge of the deck. John knew that a transparent dome surrounded them, but, even so, he had to stop himself from lunging forward to drag the headmaster out of danger. It seemed as if he were standing on the very edge of space. Nervously, John joined him, standing by his side and looking out at the glittering clusters of stars.
For a few heartbeats neither spoke. Eventually, John cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry. I thought it might make Emmie feel better to see a friend.”
Lorem looked down at him. “Don’t worry about that,” he said kindly. “I would have done the same thing in your position. Still, it is never a good idea to disobey the Examiners. Next time wait for Dr Kasaria to return and ask permission.” The headmaster resumed watching the stars again.
“So, I’m... err... not going to be punished then?”
“John, I sense how troubled you are by your friends’ illness. I know exactly how you feel. When I was a young boy, many centuries ago, my best friend contracted Zhaldarian Flu. I still remember how helpless I felt watching him suffer.”
“What happened to your friend?” asked John. “He got better, right?”
Lorem shook his head, his purple eyes filled with sorrow. “I’m sorry to say that he didn’t make it.”
“But you said that you’d seen the future. Isn’t everything going to be OK?”
“I said that I hope one possible future will come to pass, but, as I told you, it depends on the choices that certain people will make.” Lorem continued, “It was thought that Zhaldarian Flu had been wiped out over two hundred years ago after the entire universe had been vaccinated against it. There hasn’t been a single case in all that time. However, it appears that Doctor Graal opened a box containing a rock sample from Zhaldaria in class a few days ago. The sample was infected.”
John’s eyes widened as he remembered Kaal reaching out to touch Doctor Graal’s precious rock sample in their Galactic Geography class. “All this suffering is Doctor Graal’s fault, then?” He couldn’t keep the anger from his voice.
“Do not be so quick to judge, John,” the headmaster replied, holding up one finger. “I know you dislike Doctor Graal, but it was not her fault.”
“If she had checked before she opened the box, Kaal wouldn’t be fighting for his life... sir.”
Lorem sighed. “No one has thought much about Zhaldarian Flu for two centuries. Most planets have stopped vaccinating their children against it. Everyone believed that it had been eradicated completely, and there was no way Doctor Graal could have known. Would
you
have thought to check a tiny rock sample for an ancient disease?”
John’s shoulders slumped. “There’s no cure, then?” he said eventually, shaking his head. “We just have to wait and see who survives and who dies?”
With a solemn nod, the headmaster said, “We know how to produce an effective vaccine, but once the disease has taken hold there is nothing anyone can do. We will keep the patients as comfortable as possible and treat their symptoms, but there is no known cure.” He paused for a moment, then continued thoughtfully, “Though I have been doing some research. My friend Scholar Aristil, who you met on Kerallin, tells me that just before Zhaldarian Flu disappeared, a group of scientists on Gwaterra Four claimed that they had discovered certain microbes that could cure the disease.”
John felt a surge of hope rising in his chest. “Can we get some?”
For a moment, Lorem’s eyes sparkled with their usual brilliance. But it faded so quickly, John thought he might have imagined it. Wearily, the headmaster replied, “Zhaldarian Flu vanished soon after they made their discovery. Other scientists challenged the Gwaterrans findings and, with no patients to test their theory on, it remains uncertain whether the microbes are an effective cure.”
“It must be worth a try, though,” John said eagerly.
The headmaster nodded slowly. “Perhaps. But the microbes are very rare. They only exist in the core of the Zaleta Nebula. The Gwaterrans thought that when Zhaldaria’s star exploded, destroying the planet, the radiation changed the structure of the flu virus, creating a new strain that adapted to live at the heart of a nebula. According to their theory, these new microbes would cure the disease they originally created. Microbes that can dwell in such a hostile environment are unheard of, but if they do exist it is likely that they would have highly unusual properties.”
“If we know where they are, why hasn’t anyone gone to find some?” John asked with a frown.
“Because it is an extremely dangerous task. The microbes are very delicate and would only be found in the hot gases at the very core of the nebula. No robot has ever successfully made the trip – their circuits have all been scrambled by radioactive interference. The only possible way would be if someone were brave enough to dive to the centre of the nebula and collect the microbes by hand.”
“But someone
has
to try,” John replied bluntly. “People will die—”
“I have contacted the Galactic Council,” Lorem interrupted. “No one is willing to take a chance on an unproven hypothesis.”
“Then someone from Hyperspace High?”
The headmaster shook his head again. “During an emergency, the priority for staff is to look after sick students. There are few enough of us left as it is.”
“A student, then. Why couldn’t a student go?”
Seconds ticked by as the headmaster stood, looking at John in silence. Finally, he spoke, his voice more serious than John had ever heard it before. “The Galactic Council would never
allow
me to send a student on such a dangerous mission.”
“Then what can we do?”
“We can wait, John. Wait and hope.”
As the headmaster turned into a ball of light and zipped away, John remained where he was, staring out into space with his hands in his pockets.
Somewhere out there might be a cure for Emmie and Kaal
.
A strand of blond hair fell into his eyes. He pushed it away and blinked. “Zepp?”
“Yes, John,” replied the computer’s voice.
“Would a human being be able to withstand... no, actually, nothing. It doesn’t matter.” Telling his thoughts to the ship’s computer was a sure way of inviting failure before his plan was even fully formed. Zepp would be duty-bound to inform on him.
“Very well,” Zepp replied. “If you need help, just let me know.”
John pulled his ThinScreen from his bag. His fingers tapped across it, delving into the wafer-thin computer’s almost limitless data banks until he found what he was looking for. His eyes fixed on the screen, he began walking towards the nearest TravelTube, fingers moving deftly as he searched for more information and boarded the lift.
“Dormitory level sixteen.”
John tucked the ThinScreen back into his bag as the door slid open onto the common-room area outside the dormitories. At this time of day, it was usually buzzing with conversation as students relaxed between classes. Now, it was virtually empty. Dol, Kritta, and Werril were sitting by the fountain in the middle of the room, talking in hushed voices. A few metres beyond them, Mordant Talliver was slumped in a MorphSeat, staring into space in stony silence, his Serve-U-Droid hovering silently beside him.
“Are you immune, too?” asked dolphin-like Dol as John approached.
John nodded. “So Dr Kasaria says. And you?”
“Yes. There are a few of us and some, like Kritta, who were vaccinated against Zhaldarian Flu. Some planets still do it.”
“Thank goodness,” Kritta said, clicking her insect-like mouthparts with feeling.
“Is anyone else left?” John asked, hoping there were other students unaffected. Although he liked the three of them, he needed help and none of them were well suited to the task he had in mind.
“We’re the only first-years,” said Werril, nervously rubbing the horn that sprouted from the middle of his face. “There are a few older students scattered around, but another flu wave went through the ship like a hurricane about an hour ago. Lishtig’s down with it now, Gobi...
everyone
.”
John crossed his arms. “OK, then I need one of you guys to help me.”
Kritta turned her enormous compound eyes on him. “Help you do
what
?”
As quickly as possible, John repeated what the headmaster had said about the microbes at the centre of the Zaleta Nebula. “I’ve checked it out,” he finished. “Properly protected, I should be able to withstand the environment in the middle of the nebula for about thirty minutes. There are nebula-diving pods in the main hangar. All I need is for someone to fly the ship while I go in and get what we need.”
Three faces stared at him in confusion.
“You want to steal a ship, fly to the Zaleta Nebula, and go looking for microbes that may or may not have any effect on the Zhaldarian Flu?” Kritta asked after a few moments.
“And probably kill yourself in the process,” added Werril.
“If we don’t try, our friends are going to die,” John said, hoping one of them would rise to the challenge.
“They’ll probably die anyway,” Werril pointed out. “There’s no proof these microbes will help.”
“But they
might
work,” John replied quickly. “It’s got to be worth the risk.”
“I don’t think so,” Werril said, taking a step backward. “You’d never manage to get off Hyperspace High. And even if you did, it’s a completely crazy plan.”
“Listen to Werril,” Dol said. “It’s madness. Besides, Lorem said himself that he could never allow you to risk your life.”
“No,” John replied quietly. “He said the
Galactic Council
would never allow it. He also said that the choices we make could change the future.”
“You’re hearing what you want to hear, John,” Kritta said gently. “The headmaster didn’t mean that you should fly off and get yourself killed.”
John looked from face to face to face. It was already obvious that none of his classmates was prepared to risk their lives. Nevertheless, they were his only hope. He would never get to the Zaleta Nebula and back on his own.
“Think of Kaal,” he pleaded with Kritta, who he knew had a soft spot for his friend. “We
have
to try and help him.”
As Dol, Kritta, and Werril looked back at him blankly, there was a rustle from behind. Mordant Talliver was standing and looking at John grimly. Groaning inwardly, John turned to face him, preparing himself for a torrent of abuse.
Instead, Mordant said simply, “I’ll do it. I’ll go with you.”
“Are you serious?” John asked, almost choking on the words. He goggled at the half-Gargon. Mordant Talliver was the last person he would have expected to volunteer for a life-saving mission. A thought went through his mind:
Of course he’s not serious, you fool. Any moment now he’s going to start laughing at you.
Mordant’s face remained set in its grim expression. “Do I look like I’m joking?” he snapped. “There are sick people who need our help. What are you waiting for?”
“But... but...
you
—”
John did not have a chance to finish the sentence. At the end of the common room, a TravelTube door slid open, and an Examiner floated out. “Emergency quarantine rule zero-zero-twelve. No further interaction between students is permitted,” it droned. “All students confined to their dormitories until the flu epidemic has passed.”
John glanced at Mordant. He was still unsure if the half-Gargon was trying to make a fool of him, but if they were both stuck in their dormitories, they would never get to the Zaleta Nebula.
There’s no choice, I have to take the risk.
As the Examiner floated closer, John shouted, “
NOW
!
”
Instantly, John, Mordant, and G-Vez dived through the open door of the TravelTube from which the Examiner had just exited. John quickly looked back. Lights flashed across the Examiner’s spherical head. Any moment a green force would paralyse them both. He punched a panel on the inside of the TravelTube, hearing the Examiner’s voice: “Rule zero-zero-eight-three...” as the door snapped shut.
“Deck three!” Mordant yelled.
The TravelTube hurtled straight down.
“No, we need to get to the main hangar, not deck three!” John shouted. “Computer—”
A tentacle slapped across his mouth before he could give the new order. “The Examiners will be looking for us,” hissed Mordant, “and they’re hooked into the ship’s systems. If we take the TravelTube to the hangar, that’s where they’ll start searching. Understand?”
John nodded. Mordant removed the tentacle and continued, “We’ll have to do this fast. G-Vez, you set off an alarm to distract the Examiners.”
The silver droid bobbed at Mordant’s shoulder and said, “Yes, Master Talliver. It will be my pleasure to assist you, sir.”
Looking at John, Mordant said, “Running from deck three to the hangar should take about five minutes. When we get there, you find a nebula-diving pod. They’ll be in the storage bay. I’ll get us a ship.”
“Can’t we just be quick and grab the first one we see?”
Mordant rolled his eyes. “Use your brain,” he said. “We need a ship with a docking system we can attach the pod to, and that can carry us a long way into the nebula. A nebula-diving pod can only last about thirty minutes in a core before beginning to degrade, so the closer we get, the better. By my calculations, the ship will have to withstand temperatures of more than two thousand degrees. Plus, Hyperspace High is in quarantine. We’re surrounded by the Galactic Fleet. We need something super-fast or we won’t stand a chance of outrunning them.”
John nodded. For the first time, it occurred to him that there might be some advantages to working alongside Mordant Talliver. Whatever else he might be, the half-Gargon was fiercely intelligent: a walking encyclopaedia of facts and figures.
“Which ship?” John asked.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Oh.”
Mordant gave him a sharp look. “You just worry about the nebula-diver. I’ll find us a ship.”
“Deck three.” The TravelTube’s doors opened. John stuck his head round the corner. Deck three housed the third-year dormitories and additional canteens. At the end of the corridor an Examiner passed, herding a group of students to their rooms.
“Get back,” John hissed, pushing Mordant in the chest to stop him running out into the passage. He peered around again. The Examiner had passed. “Coast’s clear!” he announced.
“Now!” said Mordant, pushing G-Vez out of the TravelTube, in the direction of the Examiners. As G-Vez drifted down the corridor, Mordant breathed, “Let’s not hang about here,” and dashed off towards the hanger deck.
John was surprised at how easy it was to get to the hangar deck unseen. Hyperspace High seemed almost completely deserted. He and Mordant had to stop once as some Meteor Medics passed, but they were obviously on their way to a new case of the flu and showed no interest in the two fugitives. After dashing down emergency stairs and rarely used corridors, the unlikely pair was soon standing outside a set of vast, heavily bolted double doors that led onto the main hangar.
“Locked!” John fumed, bending over the electronic keypad. “I should have known. The ship’s in quarantine; no craft is allowed to leave.”
“It’s not a problem,” Mordant said, pushing past. To John’s amazement, he tapped the keypad rapidly. Immediately, bolts slid back. And with a clank of metal, the doors opened.
“How on Earth did you do that?”
Mordant glanced back over his shoulder as he strode through the doors. “I have my ways.”
“But that’s a high-security code.”
“Just get the pod, John. I’ll meet you in ship bay gamma.” Mordant strode away in the direction of the ship bays, where Hyperspace High’s spacecraft were kept when not in use.
Pausing to close the doors behind them, John raced away in the opposite direction. Fortunately, with all access to the hangar deck sealed off, no one had bothered to lock the storage area. John opened it, pulling out his ThinScreen to double-check what he was actually looking for. He had never seen a nebula-diving pod before. Inside the storage area were Hyperspace High’s smallest ships – star surfers, speed racers, and observation chambers, stacked neatly in rows. John started searching the first row. He found what he was looking for at the end of the third.
The pod was a simple-looking machine. Resembling a large bullet made of shining silver, it was about three metres long with small engines at the rear, stubby wings, a domed cockpit, and small suction holes for particle collection near its nose. The Hyperspace High logo was emblazened across its shell in red letters. From his quick ThinScreen cram session, John knew it was a fully independent craft able to operate in regions that would fry any normal ship. It carried almost no electronic circuits of any kind, just the most basic for communications and navigation, all of which was shielded to protect it from radiation. Even so, the heavily armoured little craft could only protect him from the intense furnace of a nebula core for half an hour. After that, the heat inside would become too intense for his body to survive.
As quickly as he could, John found a robotic GravLifter and moved it under the pod. At the press of a button, the GravLifter’s arms extended upward, grabbing the tiny craft with a
clunk
and moving it out of its storage compartment. John grabbed the GravLifter’s towing handle and twisted. The heavy machine lifted off the floor on anti-grav pads, allowing him to pull it easily back towards the main hangar.
John found Mordant standing in the middle of ship bay gamma, arms and tentacles hugging his body, staring up at a spaceship John had never seen before. Slightly bigger than private jets on Earth, it was sleekly beautiful. From a sharp nose, it flowed back in curves to sweeping wings fit with vast, powerful-looking engines. Flaming red, the ship looked as though someone had polished every millimetre of its surface. It gleamed under the hangar lights. There wasn’t a single mark on it.
John whistled as he stopped beside Mordant. “Wowsers. What is
that
?” he breathed.
Mordant’s head turned. For a moment, he looked surprised to see John and a sneer crossed his face. Then, he seemed to remember why he was in the hangar deck. “Sergeant Jegger’s Talios 720,” he said. “It’s his pride and joy, and it costs a fortune. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
John stared, his jaw dropping open. “Sergeant Jegger’s private ship?” he gasped. “You have
got
to be kidding me. We can’t take
that
.”
“It’s the only ship I could find that can handle the temperature
and
has a dock. Jegger’s got the flu; he’s not going to mind.”
“But we’ll get expelled for certain if we take it.”
Mordant raised an eyebrow. “Whatever ship we take, it’s pretty certain we’re going to be expelled,” he answered. “Disobeying an Examiner, breaking into a sealed security area, stealing a spaceship, leaving Hyperspace High without permission... Do you want me to go on?”
“I get the point,” John said, drily. He shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I flunked Hyperspace History anyway. One way or another I won’t be coming back next term.”
“Any other day I’d be overjoyed,” Mordant replied. “But it’s looking like neither of us will be here next term. Come on, let’s get the nebula-diver docked.”
When the pod had been attached to the docking mechanism, the two boys climbed up the steps of Sergeant Jegger’s Talios 720. Inside, the ship was as beautiful as it was on the outside: all deep, plush seats and gleaming technology. Mordant handed John a bulky flightsuit and helmet.
“Should help protect us in the nebula,” Mordant replied, pulling a suit over his own uniform.
John changed quickly. The suit was bulky but felt light and John found he could move easily in it. After pulling on boots and gauntlets, he fastened the helmet and walked to the cockpit. As he sat in the pilot’s chair, an automatic harness strapped around his body. For a few moments, he forgot about Zhaldarian Flu as his gaze swept across the impressive control panel.
“This ship is
awesome
,” he whispered.
“Yeah, and who said
you
were going to fly it?” said Mordant behind him.
Spinning the command chair round, John looked into the visor of Mordant’s helmet. “As you are constantly pointing out to me,” he said evenly, “I am pretty awful at Galactic Geography, but I’m a good pilot. It makes sense that you navigate while I do the flying.”
Pointing out his own failings seemed to convince Mordant. With a grunt, he dropped into the co-pilot’s seat. “Get on with it then,” he snapped.
“OK, pre flight checks and taxi out into the main hanger.” With confident expertise, John’s fingers flicked over the controls. “Let’s see what this machine can do.”
Engines growled, sending a rich shudder through the Talios 720. With mounting excitement, John released the safety brakes allowing the ship to roll out of the ship bay and onto the main deck. “Ready for take-off?” he asked, glancing at Mordant.
“Yup.” The half-Gargon busied himself at the astrometric controls, bringing up star charts and plotting a course for the Zaleta Nebula.
“Drat.” John pulled back on the controls quickly. The engine noise dropped.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“We forgot about
that
.”
Mordant’s gaze followed John’s finger. Ahead were the massive bay doors, and they were firmly closed. On the other side was space, but until the doors opened, the Talios was stuck on the hanger deck.
“Can we fly through them?” John asked.
“No way. They’re solid mallux. You’ll just wreck Jegger’s ship and there won’t even be a scratch on the bay doors.”
“So how do we get out of here?”
Mordant was silent for a moment. “They’ll only open with the highest-level security clearance. My code isn’t going to get us out of here. It needs Jegger or the headmaster or the ship’s computer—”
“I’ll handle it,” John interrupted. He reached out and punched a button on the control screen. “Zepp,” he said loudly. “Can you hear me?”
“What are you doing?” hissed Mordant. “The ship’s computer will never let us leave—”
John gestured at him to be silent.
“John,” Zepp’s voice said into John’s helmet. “The Examiners are looking for you and Mordant Talliver. Why are you on Sergeant Jegger’s private ship?”
“Zepp,” said John. “I need the biggest favour I’ve ever asked of you. I need you to open the bay doors of the main hanger deck.”
Silence.
“You do not have the authority to make that request,” the computer said after a few moments.
“That’s why I asked it as a favour,” John said urgently. “Please, Zepp. Mordant and I are going to the Zaleta Nebula. There might be a cure for Zhaldarian Flu there. We’ll never get permission to leave the ship – you
have
to help us.”
“As the ship’s computer, I have to follow the rules, John. You do not have the authority—”
“I
know
I don’t have the authority, Zepp,” John cut in, the desperation in his voice rising. “What I
do
have is a friend who could open the bay doors for me. Almost everyone on board Hyperspace High has the flu. Some of them aren’t going to make it. But if we’re successful, they’ll live.
All
of them.”
“It will be too dangerous. You might not survive.”
“Listen, Zepp. I know you are programmed to keep the students on board Hyperspace High from harm at all costs. There is a risk for me and Mordant, but surely that risk is outweighed by the possibility that hundreds, perhaps thousands, of lives will be saved if we’re successful.”
Another silence stretched out. Seconds passed.
Come on, Zepp
, John thought to himself furiously.
Come on, come on, come on...
Finally, the computer spoke. “You are correct. My source code forbids me to harm students,” Zepp said. “If opening the doors will prevent suffering, then my programme must execute your request.”
As John watched, the giant bay doors began to slide open, slowly revealing the stars beyond.
“Good luck, John,” Zepp said as the Talios’s engines roared into life again. “You, too, Mordant. Be careful.”