Helium3 Episode 1, Page 2

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  – Chapter 2 –

  He found a scooped-out depression in the deck plate and gripped it as tightly as Loren had gripped his hand, then he lay in a heap, stars spinning before his eyes. The dizziness cleared and he found himself face down, staring over the edge of the dart's airlock at a cluster of stars.

  Hastily, he scrambled further back. He hauled himself upright to find Loren crumpled in a heap at the back of the airlock, both hands fastened round a grab-handle. He helped her climb shakily to her feet.

  'That wasn't so bad,' she said. But through the curve of her visor, Mervyn caught the green shade of her chima, and knew she was lying.

  Before the dart's outer doors even snapped shut, the Trader had already uncoupled the gravity net. Belatedly, after a slow compression, the dart’s inner door opened to reveal a sumptuously decorated hallway; wooden panelled walls, paintings of Ethrigian heroes chasing each other across the ceiling; lavishly upholstered sofas, interspersed with delicate tables, their spindly-legs buried in deep-pile carpets.

  Two figures stood waiting for them. Mervyn removed his helmet.

  'Welcome,' intoned a distinguished Ethrigian Mervyn recognised. 'I am Lord Tivolli. Welcome to my yacht.' He gestured to a dark-skinned youth standing uncomfortably a step behind him, 'May I introduce my eldest son, and heir, Tarun.' The youth looked about Mervyn's own age with tawny brown hair and brown eyes.

  The youth bowed low, "At your service," he said formally.

  "Tarun is joining your intake at the Academy. I am sure you will have much to share." Tarun's chima blushed pink, but his face broke into an engaging smile, and Mervyn felt an instant warmth towards the young aristocrat.

  "Hi, I'm Mervyn and this is my friend Loren." They shook hands, Loren successfully managing to affect an air of self-confidence as though she jumped ship every day, though Mervyn noticed she hid her spare hand behind her back where it continued to tremble.

  Lord Tivolli led the way to the dart's observation room where refreshments awaited the guests. Mervyn gazed longingly at the squishy sofas as they strode past - such luxury on a spaceship.

  Tarun broke the silence, 'I am really looking forward to the Academy - do you think we could be friends?'

  Loren glanced sidelong at Tarun, 'You want to be friends with Outworlders?'

  'You've seen the news reports then? It's just stupidity."

  'The demonstrators in Ethrigia city don't think so," Mervyn said.

  'It's probably just another stunt by Lord De Monsero. He likes to stir up the people for his own ends - it gives him leverage with the ruling Patriarch.'

  They past a giant painting of the Ethrigian solar system. Now it was Mervyn's turn to frown, 'What's De Monsero got against me?'

  'Lots. For a start you're an Outworlders, and a human one at that. De Monsero hates Outworlders. You also won one of our scholarships and De Monsero has an intense dislike for anything my family does.'

  Mervyn grinned, 'I know, I beat his son, Rufus, in the scholarship race. He wasn’t best pleased.'

  'There's also the small matter of De Monsero hating your father. De Monsero lost a stack of money when your father...,' Tarun's voice trailed off as though afraid he was embarrassing his guest. He shrugged his shoulders, 'well you know.'

  Mervyn knew exactly what Tarun meant. He remembered the arguments, the divisions, and the votes when the Mining Federation claimed its independence from Ethrigia. He was too young to vote, of course; no one had asked for his decision, he hardly even had an opinion about it, but he was labelled just the same. And now he would have to fight that stigma, as well, at the Academy. It was so unfair. Sometimes he hated his father, not for what he was, but for what he had done.

  'I was too young to remember,' he lied. They walked in silence for a while towards the prow of the ship.

  'A charming character all-round then, this De Monsero,' Loren ventured, she was trying to make conversation. 'No matter, I doubt if we'll ever meet him.'

  Tarun grimaced, 'I wouldn't be too sure about that, his son, Rufus, is in our year at the Academy.'

  Mervyn groaned, now he wished he hadn’t rubbed Rufus De Monsero’s face in the dirt, even if only figuratively, when he beat him. Perhaps he should have been more gracious in victory – but the guy was so stuck up, and so sure of himself. It wasn’t even as if De Monsero, rich as he was, needed the scholarship, he had only competed to win so he could deny someone else the coveted award. He had admitted as much to Mervyn – right before Mervyn punched him to the ground. Best not to mention the tussle to Tarun.

  They arrived at the observation room and caught their first glimpse of their new home. The lozenge shaped space liner, Academy One, had arrived in orbit around the planet Ethrigia the previous evening. It looked like any other large space-going vessel, but inside was the most elite school in the Galaxy – well, their corner of it anyway.

  Mervyn's gut gave a sudden lurch, a toxic mix of fear and elation: here at last, but at what cost? He had alienated his father and run away from home to fulfil his dream. A traitor to his family: a credit-less human among the Ethrigian elite. At the same time, the opportunities enthralled him -- to race sleds and win, the chance to follow his dream as far as he could, even to the very top. Anything was possible.

  'Look, there's the stardome,' Tarun cried, breaking into Mervyn's thoughts. He pointed excitedly at a clear titanium bubble projecting from the lozenge of Academy One. Every craft Mervyn had ever travelled in used view-screens to see the outside world - even in this lavish observation room what looked like windows were in fact view-screens. Academy One was different, every apartment had real windows looking out on to space, and it had the Stardome - the famous, entirely clear dome, allowing a direct view of space from any direction.

  Mervyn imagined himself standing in the centre of the bubble surrounded by real space, not like space walking where your view was restricted by your helmet, but actually surrounded by the magnificence of the universe. He decided the stardome was at the top of his list of things to see first, right after the sleds.

  They stared in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

  Mervyn turned to Tarun, 'But it's still a risk for you to be friends with me, right?'

  Tarun glanced up, startled out of his contemplation by the unexpected question, 'Probably, but I value good friends over dodgy allies. Anyway, if I'm going to restore my family's fortunes maybe I need to gamble occasionally. I'm told humans are good risk takers -- maybe you can teach me.'

  'You're doing pretty good on your own at the moment,' Mervyn said.

 

  Private yachts, of every size and description, swarmed around the landing bay of Academy One, waiting their turn to land. No one could doubt the Academy was a school for the wealthy and privileged. Once again, Mervyn found himself overawed by his luck in landing a scholarship at such a prestigious seat of learning - even if he had earned it.

  'Look, those are the launch tubes for the sleds,' Loren said, as they drew closer. She pointed to triangular holes on the side of the ship. Sleds, like fighter craft, were catapulted into space to avoid the need for large antimatter engines; unlike shuttles, which took forever to reach a respectable speed.

  Tivolli's yacht ducked beneath the rim of a cavernous landing bay and alighted gently on a clear spot. Mervyn could see more craft milling around, some arriving and disgorging their occupants, others hastily departing. A large black shuttle craft lifted from an adjacent lot, then shot recklessly towards the swarm outside, scattering shuttles and yachts alike.

  'De Monsero,' Tarun said. 'I recognise the yacht.'

  A short balding Ethrigian greeted them at the end of the ramp as they disembarked. 'Welcome to the Space Academy, we are so pleased to have you as students; I am Barros Arovy your economics tutor; Put your luggage on a cart, as many as you need, just tell each one who you are.' A shoal of flat-loaders skimmed about the landing bay, wea
ving between the yachts. To his left, ten loaders had formed themselves into a train that snaked towards a lift.

  'Flat-loader,' Mervyn thought into his biolink and one broke away from the shoal. He smelled a puff of ozone from the antigrav generators as it settled at his feet. All around, Mervyn could see students stacking bags and trunks of every description onto trains of flat-loaders. He looked down at the loader by his feet, and dropped his single holdall into the centre. Then he folded up the suit-carrier, which contained his spare uniform, and placed it neatly beside the bag together with the helmet for his spacesuit - all his worldly possessions. 'Name and destination?' The flat-loader requested in a clipped mechanical voice. 'Mervyn Bright, er... I'm new, I don't know my apartment yet,' he felt self-conscious admitting this to cart.

  'Mervyn Bright, new intake, apartment twenty-five,' chanted the flat-loader and shot off back to the shoal.

  Twenty-five - he wondered apprehensively who would be joining the syndicate with him in apartment twenty-five. Whoever they were would be more than just living companions. Tarun had explained that he would be living, racing, and working with his syndicate for the rest of his time at the Academy: they would stand or fall together.

  'Make your way to the Stardome for the welcome speech, then lunch in the restaurant,' Barros Arovy instructed. As they made their way towards the lift, the Tivolli yacht soared towards the roof of the landing bay. Another immediately replaced it disgorging its payload of students.

  Mervyn heard Barros Arovy welcoming the new students. 'Welcome to the Space Academy; we are so pleased to have you as students; I am Barros Arovy.....'