Killer Planet

Chapter Three

For a moment Jan found himself almost unable to see, his eyes having been adjusted to the dazzling sunshine outside, then he began to discern the familiar details of the cargo hold interior—the latticed stanchions, the wall-mounted fuse boxes, the myriad pipe and cable runs associated with the ship’s various systems.

He opened the Seeker’s canopy, climbed down the rocket ship’s side and jumped down on to the metal deck. The first dangerous hurdle of the voyage had been passed, but there was no time for rest or self-congratulation. He and Ozburt had made an illegal flight—an action which would not have escaped the attention of Aerospace Control—and fast interceptors would already be on their way to place the Culcheth under arrest. If he failed to make the warp jump to Verdia within a very few minutes the whole episode would end in an ignominious return to the Jacksonville field under escort.

Jan sprinted up the narrow metal stair which zigzagged through the top levels of the ship to the control deck situated in the prow. He was met by Ozburt, whose normal ruddy complexion had faded to an anxious pallor. Behind Ozburt the view panels shone with brilliant vistas of the Florida coast and the sunlit Atlantic ocean.

“I never want to do anything like that again—it took years off my life,” Ozburt blurted, running the words together in his agitation. “We’re in big trouble, Jan, and that’s even before they find out neither of us is old enough to hold a pilot’s licence.”

“I know that,” Jan replied. “That’s why we’ve got to warp out of here right now.”

“But you can’t…”

“Don’t use that word to me,” Jan cut in. “The only thing I can’t do is let Bari and my father down.”

“But there’s something you don’t…”

“Ozburt, I’m not throwing away two years of work.” Jan crossed the deck, dropped into the seat at the control console and began keying the galactic coordinates of Verdia into the warp-drive computer. “As soon as we get to Verdia you can launch me in the Seeker and warp straight back home again. Thirty minutes should do it, and you can explain to everybody that I forced you to…”

Jan stopped speaking as there was an unexpected sound from the rear of the control room. He spun round and his eyebrows rose in surprise as he saw Petra Moir emerging from the galley cubicle. She was wearing a tangerine one-piece suit and was sipping from a plastibulb of coffee.

“Petra!” Jan pressed the back of a hand to his forehead. “I didn’t know you were on board.”

Ozburt nodded vigorously. “That’s what I was trying to tell you.”

“What difference does it make?” Petra said lightly. “I’ve been on interstellar hops before.”

Jan glanced at Ozburt. “Yes, but Verdia is a prohibited destination. We’re going to have to dodge patrol ships and things might get a bit…”

“Jan Hazard!” Petra’s blue eyes beaconed her sudden anger. “A moment ago you were saying that nothing in this universe would stop you rescuing your brother. What has changed? Am I supposed to be a helpless swooning female straight out of a Victorian novel?”

“Of course not,” Jan replied, his thoughts a swirl of confusion as he tried to deal with two conflicting instincts. “It’s just that I don’t like the idea of taking you into danger.”

“That’s great,” Ozburt said indignantly. “You didn’t worry about taking me into danger, did you?”

“It wasn’t like that.”

“Jan, if you don’t stop arguing and actually do something you’ll never even see Verdia.” Petra’s calm, matter-of-fact tones were more effective than a shout as she pointed at the radar display. “I’d say you have about thirty seconds to make up your mind.”

Jan glanced at the screen and saw three fast-moving blips closing in on the Culcheth’s position. He knew they represented interceptors which, if they got to within five hundred metres, would be able to override the Culcheth’s computers and assume command of the ship by remote control. Lips moving silently in defiance, he finished keying in Verdia’s coordinates and slammed the palm of his hand down on the red warp-activator button.

The huge ship seemed to lurch as the warp jump was made. The three young people on the Culcheth’s control deck experienced a moment of giddiness and dislocation, a peculiar tingling sensation as though an invisible wave had swept through them, subtly rearranging every molecule of their bodies. Petra gave an involuntary gasp as the sunny panorama of Earth disappeared from the view screens and was replaced on the instant by the featureless white disk of an alien planet, seen from a distance of a thousand kilometres.

They were looking at the inscrutable face of Verdia—the Killer Planet—framed in the utter blackness of space.

“There it is,” Jan breathed, trying to suppress the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. “Just think—my brother is down there somewhere.”

“And I’m up here somewhere.” Ozburt’s voice sounded strained. “Would you mind letting us have some gravity?”

Jan had forgotten that the hyperspace jump would take the Culcheth into zero-gravity conditions. He looked over his shoulder and saw that, although Petra had secured herself by gripping a table, Ozburt had drifted clear of the deck. His outsized hands and feet were circling frantically as he tried to keep himself in a vertical attitude.

“Sorry,” Jan said. He turned the artificial gravity control, restoring Ozburt’s weight and at the same time quelling the fluttering sensation of lightness in his own stomach. Ozburt dropped heavily to the deck, landed off balance and sat down with a thud.

“Trust you,” Petra said to him with a laugh. “You looked like a toy balloon that had…” She broke off as a man’s voice crashed from the emergency communications speaker.

“This is the Stellar Quarantine Authority,” it said. “You have entered a prohibited volume of space. One of the Authority’s patrol ships is on its way to interrogate you and, if necessary, impound your vessel. You are instructed to hold your present position until contacted.”

“It didn’t take them long,” Jan said, jumping up from his chair. “You take over, Ozburt. Head for the northern pole. I’ll be ready for the launch when you get there.”

“I’ll go with you.” Petra put her coffee bulb aside. “I can get the Seeker on to the launching cradle.”

Jan nodded his gratitude and ran to the stair, with Petra close behind. Their high-speed descent was made all the more tricky when a sudden increase in their apparent weight showed that Ozburt had activated the normal-space drive and was hurling the ship towards Verdia’s north pole. They clattered down the final flight of steps into the cargo hold, where the Seeker was still suspended from the beam crane.

Jan went to the crane’s control panel and began lowering and manoeuvring the rocket ship down into a horizontal position with its nose facing the cargo door. An undercarriage like that of an aircraft would have spoiled its streamlining, therefore when the Seeker was taking off horizontally it had to be laid in a wheeled cradle which it left behind when it became airborne. Petra, who was familiar with the routine, guided the ship accurately into the cradle, pushing or pulling the crimson fuselage as necessary. In less than a minute the Seeker was securely nested in the cradle and the rocket-powered descent to the surface of the Killer Planet was about to begin.

Jan left the crane’s control panel and crossed the hold to Petra. “Thanks for all your help,” he said. He held out his hand, feeling strangely awkward and self-conscious, but she pushed it aside impulsively and put her arms around him.

“Go to it, Jan,” she urged as they embraced. “Give it everything you’ve got.”

“I’ll do that,” he said. “Now you’d better get out of here—Ozburt has to bleed all the air out of the hold before he can open the cargo door.”

Petra nodded, kissed him briefly but warmly and ran towards the stair. Jan stared after her for a second, realising that the friendly affection he had always felt for Petra was being displaced by a more powerful emotion, then he climbed up the side of the rocket ship. He was in the process of stepping into the cockpit when Ozburt’s voice, harsh with urgency, crackled from the intercom speaker.

“Get a move on, Jan! The interceptor has caught up on us and it’s coming in fast. Our controls are going to be enslaved at any second unless I take evasive action.”

An instant later the floor of the cargo bay tilted wildly and a chorus of creaks came from the surrounding structure as the Culcheth was thrown into a high-G manoeuvre for which it had not been designed. Jan, with one foot in the Seeker’s cockpit, was taken unawares and could not react fast enough to avoid plunging downwards. His jaw struck the rim of the rocket ship’s windscreen with all the force of an uppercut delivered by a professional boxer.

He collapsed into the cramped space of the cockpit, consciousness fleeing amid a dazzling burst of fireworks which rapidly faded into blackness.

The next few minutes were like a fragmentary dream for Jan, a kaleidoscope of disjointed images and sounds…

He was vaguely aware of Ozburt’s voice, remote and meaningless, reaching across what seemed to be a million light years…interceptor still on my tail, Jan, and closing in fast…pain, pulsing pain and a screaming sense of urgency…there was something he had to do, something vital, but what was it?…are you ready, Jan?…ready for what?…if I don’t open the cargo door right now it’s going to be too late…

A glimpse of Petra’s blue eyes regarding him anxiously…strong hands, half-lifting half-guiding him into a seat…anything wrong down there, Jan? Answer me, answer me…

The sound of the canopy being slammed shut…Petra’s voice, firm and clear, giving orders…a wash of brilliance as the massive cargo door slid open, admitting the light of an alien sun…shuddering vibrations and a fierce burst of gut-wrenching acceleration…

Jan clung to consciousness, forcing his eyes to remain open, but ages seemed to pass before he understood what was happening…

He was in the cockpit of the Seeker, dropping down towards the unknown perils of the Killer Planet.

And beside him, gamely struggling to master the rocket ship’s controls, was Petra Moir.