The Adventures of Abigail Saltminder. Book 1: The Complex

The Adventures of

  Abigail Saltminder Book 1:

  The Complex

  Toby C. Zara

  © 2015 Toby C. Zara

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design and illustration by Sally Berkeley

  Author links:

  Blog, Facebook, follow on Twitter

  Character website:

  Abigail Saltminder

  Design and Illustration:

  Sally Berkeley

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: the barracks

  Chapter 2: David Mentmore

  Chapter 3: the Virtual Friend

  Chapter 4: the P-Suit

  Chapter 5: George

  Chapter 6: Tom Boyd

  Chapter 7: the training room

  Chapter 8: Monica Alterra

  Chapter 9: the animals

  Chapter 10: the tunnel

  Chapter 11: the Holo

  Chapter 12: the Chimpanzee

  Chapter 13: The Elephant

  Chapter 14: Alert level 5

  Chapter 15: the fence

  Chapter 16: the last twenty yards

  Chapter 17: The StarStriker.

  The adventures of Abigail Saltminder. Book 1: The complex

  Each book can be read and enjoyed separately, but best to read them in sequence.

  Abigail Saltminder is a tough 14 year old child of the V-City streets, living a precarious hand to mouth existence. Almost on a whim, she enlists in the Space Army, known as the 'Sparmy.' There she learns she is a 'Special' and joins an elite team.

  But not is all as it seems, and soon Abigail and Tom (another Special) are on the run.

  This is the first Abigail Saltminder adventure. In total there will be six books, together forming a single epic tail of discovery, excitement and final redemption.

  Prologue

  Monica tilted one wing up and the other down. The seagull made a graceful curve in the air, swooping down over the tall trees.

  A feeling of intense joy filled Monica. It was as if a missing part of her had been found and, quite naturally, been slotted back into place. She felt complete.

  A couple of flaps, and she was soaring high again. Below was the complex, spread out like a model on a table-top. And there, in her own compound, she could see herself, staring up. She knew she had a massive grin on her face.

  There was a rush of static and her friend popped into view.

  “Hi Monica!” she said in her usual enthusiastic way, “What’s happening?”

  “Look!” Monica pointed at the seagull circling overhead. “See that bird?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m controlling it!”

  “Wow!”

  “And not just that bird,” Monica’s voice almost cracked with excitement “any animal I want!”

  Her friend bounced up and down with glee. “Wow! Wow! and wow again!”

  Monica’s grin grew even wider, if that were possible. “You’ve no idea of how wonderful it is!”

  “Great!” A sudden, mischievous look came over her friend’s face. She gave a little jump. “I know what we can do! We can go to the training room!”

  “What?”

  “That’d put one over on David. Come on!” She strode away. Then, over her shoulder “Come on Monica, It’ll be great!”

  Her enthusiasm was catching. Monica followed. She glanced up at the still circling seagull. “I’ll be right back,” she promised. Then she released the bird, which abruptly levelled out and flew off in a straight line.

  Monica watched it for a second, then entered the training room.

  Chapter 1: the barracks

  Abigail Saltminder looked at the wall. The top was about level with her chin. She glanced down at her tired, mud-splattered body. She was too round in the middle to go scrambling over walls. Abigail scowled. Joining the space army had always been a stupid idea.

  The rest of the recruits were miles ahead, but Abigail didn't care. The last few days had been disastrous. Nothing but boredom, mud and tiredness.

  The sergeant came running back, his large boots pounding through the mud. “You!” He shouted, “get a move on, you can do it!” He stopped on the other side. “Saltminder!” His voice was loud and hoarse. “You’re the last! Don’t let the others down!”

  Abigail ignored him. He’d been getting at her all day and she’d had enough. “Saltminder?” His voice was now a sneer. “What sort of rubbish name is that?”

  Abigail looked up at him, the expression on her face hardening. Her friends, such as they were, knew that particular look, and always ducked and hid when they saw it. “I'm out of here," she said abruptly. She turned and started walking away.

  "Come back here!" He put both hands on top of the wall. "You come back right now, d'you hear!"

  Abigail heard, but kept on going. From behind there came a grunt as he vaulted over and a few seconds later he was standing in front of her. He wasn't even out of breath.

  He jabbed a finger in her face. "I'll give you one more chance!"

  He was big and right in her way. If she'd tried to go past he'd sidestep to get in front of her again, and they'd end up doing a stupid little dance. So she stopped and waited, scowling at him.

  "One last chance!" He repeated. "Go back, climb the wall and we'll forget this whole thing."

  He towered massively above her. Behind him, the sky was grey and dull. A flight of distant seagulls wheeled high in the air.

  Abruptly she spoke. "I hope," she said, "those birds crap on you!"

  Then, walking rapidly, she went round him and kept going. But she didn't run. There was no point: she wasn't built for speed, and he was twice as big and three times as fast. So she hunched her shoulders and kept up a steady pace.

  For perhaps ten seconds, he stood completely still before furiously spinning round and setting off after her.

  "Saltminder!" he shouted. "You stop right there!" Abigail ignored him. He drew level and put out a hand towards her shoulder. "Saltminder, this is an order!” suddenly his voice became strangled. “Urggh!”

  A bird, a large seagull by the look of it, had swooped down and offloaded on him.

  There was a burst of giggles. Looking over the wall were the other recruits. They'd obviously doubled back to witness the fun.

  The sergeant rounded on them, and the giggles abruptly stopped. His face was red with rage. "Get back!" He shouted. He waved his arm, indicating the other end of the field. "Get on with it!"

  The recruits turned and started running off. "At the double!" Their speed picked up. The sergeant turned and looked after Abigail, who was now some distance away. "Saltminder!" he shouted. "I'll deal with you later!"

  Then he went after the recruits, wiping himself down as he went.

  Back at the base, Abigail rapidly packed her things, shoving items somewhat haphazardly into her shoulder bag. She was the only person in the big, impersonal barracks. Well, she thought, so much for Sparmy life. But what was she going to do now? And, almost as important, it was the middle of the afternoon, right in the gap between lunch and the evening meal. She was hungry, which always put her into a s
our mood.

  She’d signed up in the hope of making friends, and even of whizzing off to distant planets. The recruitment vids hinted as much. But after she’d joined, it had been rubbish. The other recruits had regarded her as nothing more than street scum, the food had been meagre and tasteless, and she'd had her fill of mindlessly running about. And sitting doing tests in front of a V-Screen. And being shouted at.

  Well, she’d had enough. The sergeant had been consistently picking on her, so he deserved to be crapped on. Abigail smiled. If only cows could fly!

  And then a sudden, puzzling thought. It was odd that bird had unloaded about 2 seconds after she’d said, ‘I hope those birds crap on you.’ Abigail shook her head and stuffed a spare pair of socks away. Whatever. It didn't matter. She was getting out.

  Abigail Saltminder, shortish and roundish (although she preferred the term ‘robust’) was a child of the V-City streets. Her exact birth date was unknown, her parents were unknown and how she'd managed to survive was also unknown. Her earliest memory was of hiding from the E-Spiders, shivering and terrified. She must have been about three. That was when Spiker had found her and taken her under his wing.

  Spiker. Ex Space Army, or ‘Sparmy’ as it was known. Spiker. Hard and unflinching with an IQ heading for genius. He had taught her how to survive on the streets. How to fight. How to trust some people and distrust others. Enough reading, writing and math to get by.

  And how life on the streets was tough and seldom fair.

  But when she judged she was sixteen, she’d surprised herself by secretly applying to join the Sparmy. She'd told them she was eighteen, knowing they didn't care and had no way of checking. Street kids, those that survived, were always older than their years. They had to be, or they wouldn't make it. And, with help from Spiker, Abigail had made it. But she hadn't told him about the Sparmy. Although his days of soldiering were some 20 years past, it would only lead to an argument.

  And now, after less than one miserable week, she was getting out. Leaving before she was kicked out. Depressed, Abigail finished her packing, laced up her boots, checked she hadn't left anything, picked up her bag and made for the door.

  “So,” said a pleasant voice from behind her, “leaving us already?” Abigail spun round. An officer was standing by the window. She could have sworn he hadn't been there a moment ago, but then she wasn't taking much interest in her surroundings right now.

  He looked about twenty-five. Tall and slim, with an open, friendly face. His uniform was tailored and crisp, with a unit logo she didn’t recognise. But then the Sparmy was full of dumb units. Dumb units of dumb soldiers doing dumb things.

  Abigail slung her bag over her shoulder. “Yeah," she said. "I'm getting out. So?” It came out more belligerently than she intended, but what the heck. In her mind, she had already left the Sparmy, so it didn't matter what she said.

  He grinned. It was an easy, attractive grin. “Give me five minutes,” he said, “and I’ll show you why you should stay.”

  He was beguiling. Approachable. Even good looking. And when all was said and done, she wasn’t going anywhere much. She had nothing to lose. After a moment, Abigail shrugged and put her bag on the floor. “Yeah, OK. Go on.”

  He walked past her and slapped the door. Through it Abigail could see the uninviting parade ground. More mud. “This,” he said, “is more than a door. It is also a scanner. It scans everyone who comes through it."

  "Yeah. So?”

  “We are looking,” he said, “for a particular type of person. A person we can make use of.” He waved his hand. A V-Screen appeared, hanging in mid-air. ”This is a graph showing your group as they entered.” Some jagged black lines appeared, marching across the bottom of the V-Screen like a series of waves. Some were bigger than others, some smaller, but all were low. On the top of each wave was some text. Names, Abigail realised. His finger pointed at a ripple. “That’s Becca Saunders, for instance.” Abigail remembered Becca. Red hair. Very fit. She’d have no problem scrambling over a wall.

  The man snapped his fingers. The waves froze. “As you can see, all much of a muchness, nothing exceptional.”

  “But now....” he made a flourish. “You come in.” The movement began again, but then suddenly, a new line broke free from the others and soared upwards as if it were ascending the side of a tidal wave. Up and up it went. The V-Screen stretched vertically to accommodate. Three times higher than the others. Four times. Five times, six, even higher. When it was practically at the ceiling, the line levelled out for a moment before descending back down and vanishing. On top of the mountain, marching along in big letters, was ‘Abigail Saltminder.’

  “I tell you.” The officer leant towards her “we all got very, very excited when we saw that.”

  Abigail took a deep breath. Inside she was trembling, although she was not sure why. “Yeah,” she said scornfully. “Anyone can draw a wiggly line.” She hoisted the bag back onto her shoulder. “I’m still out of here.” She turned and made for the door, hesitated for a moment then shrugged, went through and strode determinedly away.

  For a moment, he was silent. Then, in a voice that carried just far enough to reach her he said, “why do you think that bird crapped on the sergeant?”

  Abigail stopped. After a brief pause, she spoke over her shoulder. “Coincidence.”

  His voice became slightly teasing. “Really?" He grunted in amusement. "Now you know, deep down, that isn’t true. Don't you.”

  She swung round, pivoting on one foot. "How do you know," she asked "about what happened?"

  His voice was casual and unconcerned. "Oh, we were watching." He came through the door. In two strides he was standing in front of her. A grin. “Wow, did that sergeant get what he deserved!"

  But Abigail refused to be drawn in. She didn't like the sound of this. "Watching? How?"

  "Oh," his voice was casual. "From up high." He made a gesture. A small, powerful flyer descended, dropping like a stone towards them. It must have been up there all the time, hiding in the clouds.

  With hardly a sound, it stopped precisely between them, shimmering in the weak sunlight. From underneath came a thin blue glow that kicked up tiny whirlwinds of dust.

  In spite of herself, Abigail let out a small gasp. It was a StarStriker!

  Rarely seen, used only by the Sparmy elite, StarStrikers were the most sophisticated flyer ever developed. Not large, measuring perhaps four paces long and two paces wide with seats for four, it was a masterpiece of engineering and advanced technology, with clean lines and a surface so smooth to the touch that even dust failed to stick.

  It was rumoured a StarStriker had enough fire-power to destroy a mountain.

  Amazingly, there was one right beside her, close enough to touch. And, even more amazingly, it had evidently been shadowing her when she had that run-in with the sergeant.

  The officer had waited for Abigail to stop staring. He knew full well the impact the StarStriker was having.

  His smile was easy, almost mischievous. “Pretty good, don't you think?" He climbed in and settled down. Then he turned his deep, intense dark eyes towards her. “Abigail, we’re a special unit of very talented and gifted people. Like you, in fact, although you don’t know it yet.” Abigail found herself being drawn in, it was almost hypnotic. “Join us,” he continued, “for a life of adventure and excitement. And you’ll be doing something worthwhile."

  Abigail still looked doubtfully at him. Something inside her wasn’t convinced. Spiker had taught her to trust her instincts, and her instincts were screaming at her to get out, and get out fast.

  He looked directly at her, his eyes locking into hers. “It's simple. If you want to know why that sergeant got covered in bird crap, come with me. Or...” he let the word hang for a moment before concluding, “ ... or spend the rest of your life wondering.”

  For a long, long moment Abigail didn’t move. Then, abruptly, she climbed in and sat, hugging her bag to her chest. Her instincts couldn’t alwa
ys be right. Could they?

  “Great!” His smile seemed genuine. “Let’s go!”

  A clear dome slid smoothly over them as the StarStriker, moving as serenely as smoke, ascended high into the air.

  Chapter 2: David Mentmore

  Looking down, Abigail could see the parade ground and barracks getting smaller. A line of recruits was running back from the field. No doubt they were going at the double.

  The officer followed her gaze. “You’re well out of that,” he said, “you’re far too valuable to be a simple grunt.” Then he turned. “I think I ought to introduce myself.” He held out a hand. “David Mentmore. I would give you my rank, but we don’t really go in for ranks much. Let’s just say I’m the chief talent spotter.” His hand was chilly, but the handshake firm.

  Abigail was intrigued, but she didn’t show it. Instead, she dumped her bag on the floor between her feet and stared ahead. They were now above the clouds, but still ascending.

  David Mentmore said "Hungry?"

  "Yeah. Always." It was seldom she wasn't hungry.

  He grinned. “I thought you might be. We’ve a long flight, so I made sure we were stocked up.” He patted the smooth surface in front of him. “She’s voice activated. Ask and it shall be given. Within reason, of course. We’re not made of credits!”

  Abigail looked round. They were now so high the curvature of the earth could be seen. Impressive, but she wasn’t going to show it. What had he said? Voice activated? Ask and it shall be given?

  She leant forward and cleared her throat. “Burger meal,” she said. She slid a sly glance at David Mentmore, who was looking away. And then quickly, before she could be stopped, “Mushrooms and onions!” They were rare delicacies. Another glance at David, but he seemed indifferent. Bolder, Abigail leant forward again, speaking quickly. “And a stim.”

  But immediately David Mentmore shook his head. “Sorry Abigail. My unit doesn’t do stims.”

  Abigail grimaced. It was to be expected. "OK, limecola.”

  For a short while nothing happened, then there was the distinctive ‘ping’ of a Poppity-Ping and a wide drawer slid out. In it was her burger meal, complete with mushrooms and onions, plus a limecola. Abigail picked up the burger with both hands. The smell was exquisite. She glanced at David Mentmore.

  “Beef,” he said with a grin.

  Beef! Abigail had only tasted beef once before, after Spiker had gone on a mysterious raid in which one of his men got killed. He’d stopped raiding after that.