The Agathon: Book One (34 page)

“Sir, I need to shut down the thrusters in prep for FTL,” Boyett said.

“What?” Ferrate said suddenly, from behind the captain. Carrie could feel the young man’s panic. She shared it. The ship was about to be crushed like paper.

“Proximity alert,” Chavel said, as the screens above them went black.

“Exterior,” the captain said. The centre screen showed The Agathon’s hull and the spinning FTL ring now blurring what was outside it. All around them was twisted darkness, as the planet began to engulf the ship.

“It has us,” Tyrell said. Carrie looked at him.

“What can I do?” she asked Tyrell.

“Nothing, Carrie,” her father said, looking at her and smiling. “You’ve done enough. It’s up to The Agathon now,” he said, sitting back in his chair calmly.

“We are inside the perimeter, sir. I think it’s closing,” Chavel said, looking at the screen. They looked above them at the screen, as the star field ahead began to disappear behind the closing orifice. Carrie felt her father’s mind and watched him close his eyes.

Sorry, Jennifer
, he thought. Carrie stood and walked over to her father. She placed his hand on his.

“It’s not over yet,” she said quietly. The ship began to vibrate intensely as Carrie reached her hand to steady herself against a computer console.

“Got it!” said Boyett, looking at the captain.

“Hang on, everyone. FTL in five...” Carrie looked at Tyrell, whose eyes were now black.

“Four...” She looked at the screen which showed a small star field, barely visible through the gap in the mechanical planet.

“Three...” She looked at Chavel, who was bracing the control panel in front of him with both hands.

“Two...” She saw Young looking at her intently. He looked like he had seen a ghost. She tightened her grip on her father’s hand.

“One...”

28

T
he young boy looked out of his bedroom porthole at the nearby village. The latest repair to the umbilicus connecting the Jycorp to the nearby Clark looked patchy at best.

“What are you still doing up?” came his father’s voice from behind him. The boy jumped and looked around.

“Nothing, just looking outside,” he said, smiling before climbing under the blankets. His father walked over to the bunk and sat beside him. He reached around and began tucking the blankets tightly under his son.

“You know the rules,” he said, turning off the blue night light beside the head of his bed. “No lights after eight,” he said.

“Sorry, Dad,” the young boy said.

“Tell me a story,” he added, pulling the covers up past his nose.

“Which one?” his father said. The young boy smiled.

“Not again,” his father said.

“Last time, I promise,” the young boy said playfully. His father sighed and made himself comfortable at the edge of the bunk. He looked out at the star field. The lights of one of the nearby ships reflected off the dark circles under his eyes. He looked down at the young boy.

“Once upon a time, over a thousand years ago before humans lived in the stars, there was a place called Earth,” he said. The young boy’s eyes widened.

“It was a beautiful blue planet with more life in the seas than on the land. It was so warm that you could walk along its shores barefoot.”

The young boy watched his pale father’s face and tried to imagine being there. He tried to imagine what it felt like to never be cold.

“The skies were blue and it was home to billions. Then one day a signal came from the stars and told the humans they were not alone in the universe. They tried to find who the signal makers were, but they would not respond. It was decided that whoever had sent it had been long gone for millions of years. The humans searched the galaxy, trying to find the signal makers, but could still find nothing.

“Then one day it was decided to build The Agathon. The humans colonised Mars and began to construct the first ship capable of travelling faster than the speed of light, but before they could finish something terrible happened.” The young boy’s father looked out the window.

“The signal makers destroyed the Earth,” he said.

“Why did they do that, Dad?” said the young boy, pulling the torn covers over his mouth.

“Nobody knows,” said his father. “The last of the surviving humans banded together in these stations and set a course for Titan, led by the great Sienna Clark. It is thought that The Agathon was then sent to find the signal makers, but after years of hoping it never returned.

“Did it really look like that, Dad?” the young boy said, pointing to an etching placed against the back wall of his room.

“According to the story tellers,” said his father. “After the great revolt most of the history of our people was erased, so all we have to go on is what was passed down by the elders.”

“Do you think it’s still out there? Do you think they found the signal makers?” said the young boy,
wide
-eyed. “Do you think they will be able to find us?”

“Enough,” said the young boy’s father quietly.

“Go to sleep.” He rested his hands on the boy’s chest and leaned over, giving him a kiss on the cheek. The young boy closed his eyes as his father walked over to his door.

“Dad?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, Arturo?” he said, standing at the entrance.

“Do you think we’ll have food tomorrow?” There was a moment of silence.

“Yes, Arturo,” his father said, “I promise.”