[05] Elite: Reclamation (53 page)

Whatever it is, they’ve got it bad.

Myriad stars pricked the darkness of space. Not far away from here was the border, the boundary, the limit of known space; the edge over which only those who couldn’t resist the siren song of adventure dared to go; those to which ‘dangerous’ was just a substitute for exhilaration.

They call it the Frontier.

About the Author

Drew Wagar is a British science fiction and fantasy author. He lives in Kent with his wife, two sons, a dog and a cat. His favourite colour is dark green. Everything else is subject to change without notice.

You can reach Drew as follows:

Drew’s Website:
http://www.drewwagar.com

Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/drewwagarwriter

Twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/drewwagar

Other books available in the Elite: Dangerous series:

Elite: Lave Revolution by Allen Stroud

Elite: Mostly Harmless by Kate Russel

Elite: And Here The Wheel by John Harper

Elite: Tales From The Frontier by 15 authors from around the world

Above published by Fantastic Books Publishing

Elite: Wanted by Gavin Deas

Elite: Nemorensis by Simon Spurrier

Elite: Docking is Difficult by Gideon Defoe

Published by Gollancz

Out of the Darkness by T. James

An excerpt from ‘The Shadeward Saga’, an upcoming SF series by Drew Wagar

Lacaille

The Lacaille system, officially ‘Lacaille 9352, Red Dwarf Class M2V’ in the stellar catalogue, was not a primary colonisation target. Red dwarf stars were considered generally poor candidates and the system was relegated to the lower end of the league table. The only reason it was considered at all was that, at a distance of just over ten light years, it was reachable by ships powered by the new atomic pulse engines, a factor that eventually became critical.

It had been known for some time that there were several planets in the system. Esurio, along with four unremarkable gas giants and a series of rocky dwarf worlds, had already been catalogued and studied in some detail by Sol based orbiting telescopes and, more recently, by high speed atomic space-probes. The returning data was greeted with initial enthusiasm.

Esurio lay within Lacaille’s ‘goldilocks zone’, close enough to support liquid water, and far enough out to prevent it evaporating away. Around a more familiar star the planet would have been considered the ideal target, a close parallel of the home-world. A red dwarf would naturally mean that metals would be in short supply, but that could be countered by technology. It might support a simple agrarian culture.

Further analysis quickly dashed those hopes.

Lacaille’s peculiar properties made the colonisation of Esurio problematic for many reasons. The star was extremely faint and cool, with the planet in an alarmingly close orbit. Conditions on the surface ranged from the extreme to the astonishing. Tidally locked to its parent star, one side of the planet always faced the glow of ruddy sunlight; the other was forever shrouded in eternal night.

An everlasting hurricane raged on the sub-stellar pole, fed by ferocious evaporation from the surface due to the intense heat. At the terminator, kilometre high cliffs of eternal ice and glaciers that dwarfed anything ever seen before marked the transition onto the darkside. Images showed a narrow temperate zone between the two extremes.

Lacaille’s brightness dropped precipately as sun spots periodically blotched its surface, far bigger than the tiny motes that affected the star humans called ‘the Sun’, causing dramatic temperature drops. At other times the star flared brightly, a runaway fusion reaction brightening the star in moments and swamping its planets in dangerous ultra-violet radiation and excessive heat.

There was no evidence of any intelligent life, yet there was something there; sensors confirmed the tell-tale presence of oxygen and methane in the atmosphere. Air pressure was higher than the home-world despite lower gravity. None of the probes had the resolution to peer down to the surface during their brief encounters as they flashed through the system on a one way journey. The planet’s magnetic field was weak as expected, the planet slowly losing its atmosphere under the fierce glare of Lacaille.

 With long term viability uncertain and the rigours to be endured by any prospective colonists considered insurmountable, Esurio was marked as ‘non-viable’ and overlooked in favour of more conventional spheres by the committees of the home-world.

That was, until those same committees were awakened to the knowledge that before long they would have no home-world.

The resultant programme was rushed, with provisions and equipment pared to the absolute minimum. The timescales allowed no other outcome. The known issues were immense and intractable, but they were overcome, though often by controversial and experimental means.

After much sacrifice and difficulty, Esurio was colonised.

Only the brave and hardy survived. 

Prologue

Round 2287, Ninth Pass

Rain cascaded down in sheets, cold dark and heavy despite the eternal sun, whipped into frenzy by a fierce and fickle wind. It blew one way and then another with unrelenting strength, battering the slate grey rocks that formed the steep flank of the mountain. Lightning flickered in the grey gloom, giving a brief view of stark and craggy outcrops, and terrifying drops into shadowed chasms. Thunder rolled not far behind, hammering the rocks and echoing around the unseen valleys. Smaller debris was dislodged, tumbling down and scattering across a muddy and treacherous narrow track that cut through the landscape like a thin sinuous snake. On one side a steep rocky bluff, on the other a drop back down into the valley far below.

Toiling up this path at a charge were two heavy set creatures steaming with exertion, yoked to a battered wooden carriage, illuminated by dimly flickering torches which guttered in the screaming wind, threatening to be extinguished but somehow just managing to stay alight. Two black feathered arrows were stuck in the wooden frame on the rear of the carriage, the wood splintered around them.

 Atop the carriage, two men draped in thick oil skins, hung on for dear life as the carriage jolted from rock to pothole and back again. One cracked a whip, driving the beasts onwards at a reckless speed. The other turned to look behind them, squinting through the rain.

He chose an unfortunate moment. Arrows whistled out of the gloom. One passed between the two men, the second stuck the man in the chest, throwing him back against his companion. With a screech he fell head first from the carriage and was crushed under the rear wheel as the carriage plunged ahead. The carriage jolted, the wheel coming back down onto the track with an abrupt shock. Spokes splintered, the wheel turned once and then came apart. The carriage canted over, crashing onto its side close to the edge of the path, sliding to a stop above an invisible drop into the darkness.

A baby’s cry rang out in the darkness. It came from inside the carriage.

The remaining man, dazed and battered but otherwise uninjured, desperately climbed back to open the side door. The carriage shifted as the panicking beasts, still yoked to the carriage, tried to regain their feet and escape. The carriage was dragged perilously closer to the edge. He pulled out a knife, cut the traces and the beasts roared, quickly fleeing into the rain and disappearing.

He pulled open the door. A woman half clambered out, her face white with fear, but set with determination. For a moment they argued, but then she lifted out a pair of babies, swaddled in fine linen and handed them to the man, pushing him away, gesturing for him to run. Her shouts were swept away by the wind. A brief embrace followed and then he ran. Lightning crackled and the following clap of thunder made him duck instinctively.

He clambered up the rocky slopes adjacent to the crashed carriage, seeking to put as much distance between him and it as possible. Barely audible shouts brought his attention around. He ducked down behind a boulder and peered over the top. One of the babies in his arms whimpered and he gently tried to keep it quiet, holding a trembling finger to his lips.

Far below, the women in the carriage had managed to somehow clamber down. It was clear she had been injured in the crash, her ankle twisted or broken. She had limped a short distance, but was now facing back down the path; the direction the carriage had driven.

She stood silent, the wind snatching her sodden dark hair around her face.

Run….

More of the beasts charged into the flickering light from the torches aboard the upturned carriage. They bore four riders, thin figures dressed in lightweight mail, armed with swords and with bows slung across their backs. Their heads were covered by capes, their faces hidden. They stopped and dismounted, striding forward in a line. One gestured to the woman with a gloved hand. She took a backward step, shaking her head.

The leader’s gesture came again, imperious, demanding, yet the woman’s face was set and determined.

The woman cried out plaintively and hobbled towards the carriage, giving it a sharp push. The leader unslung the bow, notched an arrow, drew and fired.

No!

The carriage slipped on the edge, overbalanced and then rolled into the chasm. The shattering crash of it breaking apart on the rocks below reverberated back to the onlookers. Lightning flickered and a boom of thunder masked out what little sound was left to hear.

The man was unable to watch, slumping behind the boulder as the woman sank to her knees and fell to one side, an arrow protruding from her chest. He crouched, huddled over his charges, shuddering in despair and grief.

The leader of the warriors strode forward and pulled the woman up by the throat. A brief interrogation followed, the woman defiant even as her life drained away. The leader threw her to the ground in disgust, leaving her convulsing and doubling up before finally lying still. The leader’s cape fell back revealing a strong female face, with blonde hair, shaved on the left side over the ear, and grown long on the other. A simple metallic band was set across her forehead. Her face was a mask of frustration.

The concealed man risked a glance and saw they were looking over the edge of the chasm, down into the unseen depths. Lightning flashed again, with a thunderous boom smashing down around them. Dangerously large rocks rumbled past the man, one bounced over his head as he ducked low just in time. They fell onto the path, passing perilously close to the warriors.

A brief angry debate amongst the four warriors was quickly brought to a conclusion. They unceremoniously picked up the dead woman’s body and flung it into the chasm before jumping aboard their beasts and turning about, heading back the way they had come, quickly vanishing into the storm.

The man was left upon the darkened mountainside, the pair of babies huddled securely in the folds of his clothing. Panic overwhelmed his grief and he ran.

The storm continued, showing no signs of abating.

Chapter One - Daine, Capital of Drayden

Round 2305, Fourth Pass

The creature landed on the branch of the shade and folded its three pairs of wings. Its body, almost a hand in length, shone iridescent in the warm light of Lacaille, flickering from cyan to magenta and back again as it turned. Caught in its mouthparts was the struggling form of a smaller black insect.

Kiri watched, fascinated, as the flit rapidly and efficiently consumed the unfortunate narg, enjoying the swift and fierce dismemberment of the prey, seeing its legs twitch impotently as it died accompanied by a faint, but delicious, squelching and cracking sound. Flits were a rare sight in these parts, usually found only in the shadeward. The weather had been somewhat cooler of late, encouraging the pretty creatures into the shade forests around the city.

She carefully lowered a brace of marsips to the ground. They were small but tasty rodents that she’d caught earlier. She approached cautiously, moving slowly to stay as quiet as possible. As she crept amongst the tall straight trunks of the shades she dislodged streams of condensation from the thin curtain like filaments that hung down from the branches around her; she brushed it out of her eyes. Sunlight filtered through in bright red majestic beams of light from the canopy overhead. Far above the outstretched cups of the shades fought for dominance against each other, each one struggling for position, a silent, desperate and eternal battle to secure precious light and water. A faint mist hovered between their trunks.