Chasing Stars (31 page)

‘Yeah.’

‘So let’s go.’

He took the exit and followed my directions to a narrow road with just one lane in each direction.

‘This road will take us all the way to New Marseilles,’ I said.

The rain was still heavy, the storm circling overhead, but there was no other traffic on the road. Peg increased his speed, hurtling round the corners and racing down the hills so rapidly I thought I was going to be sick. I focused on the small flashing dot on the map that showed where we were.

‘Was it difficult to convince Lyra to help us?’ I asked.

‘No. This story will be a real coup for her. A trainee journalist with the inside story. Orion will talk to her in a way he won’t talk to a journalist he doesn’t know.’

‘Fingers crossed that Clarence manages to sort things out at his end,’ I said.

If he did, she would be on the same ship as Ryan. She would get to speak to him and spend time with him. The thought that I might never see him again if I didn’t make this work tore at my insides.

‘Where will she meet us when she gets to the spaceport?’

‘Apparently there’s a bar that’s open to residents and visitors. She’ll meet us there as soon as she’s allowed off the ship and let us know where he’s being held.’

‘When I said goodbye to Ryan at the Institute, he asked me if you and Lyra were together yet,’ I said.

Peg glanced at me sideways, before turning back to the road. This was not the sort of road where you could afford to lose concentration, even for a moment. Especially at this speed.

‘Did he?’ It wasn’t really a question.

‘He said he wants you to ask her out.’

Peg laughed.

‘He thinks you like her. And that she likes you.’

Peg said nothing.

‘You do like her, don’t you?’

‘Yeah, I like Lyra.’

‘And he said he’s not going to be around so it wouldn’t be weird. I think he wanted you to know that.’

We rounded a corner and were met with clear blue skies. Bright sunlight glared from the wet tarmac.

‘You were right about the weather,’ I said.

‘You were right about the road.’

‘Peg?’ I said. ‘Do you think we can pull this off?’

‘Ordinarily, I’d say no. No way. You’d have to be crazy to even think it. But I have the feeling you’re gonna make it happen.’

We made it to the New Marseilles spaceport with five minutes to spare. The port was shaped like a clock: a large round central building with twelve smaller round buildings ringed around it.

‘What are they?’ I asked Peg.

‘Each one is a spacedock. Some are for freight, some are for cruise liners, some are for workers. We’re employees of the spaceport now, so we’ll get the cheap seats.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘They won’t be offering us peanuts and drinks or allowing us to unclip and enjoy the experience of weightlessness.’

My insides began swimming around as we walked through the main entrance into the terminal building. What if Ben hadn’t managed to send our papers? What if I didn’t pass the medical exam? Or clear security? I looked around me. The other passengers were a mixture of men and women, all dressed in uniforms of various styles.

‘All employees of the spaceport,’ said Peg quietly. ‘Back from shore leave probably.’

He pointed towards the Customer Services desk. ‘You go and get our papers. I’ll check in our luggage. I’ll meet you by the entrance to security, OK?’

I nodded and strode over to the desk, trying to look as though I travelled through space all the time. There was no need to be nervous. We hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet.

The assistant handed me two cards: one with Peg’s details and one with mine. Easy.

‘We go through security now,’ said Peg, ‘and then we’ll be separated for our medical exam.’

‘What sort of things do they look for in your medical?’ I asked as we joined the line for security.

‘Simple things. Cardiovascular health is the main one. They’ll also check you for any signs of infectious diseases. Check your bone density – that sort of thing.’

‘What if I don’t pass?’

‘Then we don’t get on the flight. But you’re not feeling sick, are you?’

‘Only sick with nerves.’

Peg’s fingers found mine and he gave my hand a gentle squeeze. ‘I’m kind of nervous myself,’ said Peg. ‘I’ve never been further than low Earth orbit.’

‘Is it dangerous?’

We shuffled forward in the queue.

‘It’s the safest form of travel there is. Statistically. Still, there’s something a bit unnerving knowing that you’re surrounded by the vacuum of space.’

I gripped his hand tighter. ‘I wouldn’t know what to do in an emergency.’

‘Relax. Travelling through time is much more dangerous and you survived that.’

We reached the security checkpoint. I handed over my paperwork from Ben and the flexi-card the Institute had given me when I’d arrived.

‘Eden Anfield?’ asked the emigration officer.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘Says here Eden Anfield is a minor,’ said the emigration officer. ‘Sixteen years old. We’ll need authorisation from your parents for a trip into space.’

‘I’m her legal guardian,’ said Peg, handing over his port-com.

The officer looked doubtfully at Peg, but scanned through his details. ‘OK,’ he said eventually. ‘Males that way, females over there.’

‘See you on the other side,’ said Peg, finally letting go of my hand.

I was directed into a cold, curtained-off cubicle that smelt of antiseptic and metal, and told to strip down to my underwear and lie on the trolley. I folded my clothes up and placed them in a neat pile on the floor. There was nothing to cover myself up with – no gown or sheet. I sat up on the trolley in my bra and pants, my arms cradling my body to keep warm.

The curtain snapped back and a nurse came inside, pushing a small trolley filled with bottles, a stethoscope, a port-com.

‘First trip into space?’ she asked, staring at my records on her port-com.

‘Yes.’ Now didn’t seem like a good time to mention my time-trip or that Peg had taken me into low Earth orbit.

‘You will probably experience nausea for the first twenty-four hours.’ She met my eye with an unsmiling face. ‘Most people do.’

I lay shivering on the trolley as she checked my heartbeat and blood pressure, took several swabs from the inside of my nose and my throat and made me breathe into an inflatable bag.

Through the flimsy divider, I could hear other women undergoing the same procedures in the cubicles either side of me.

Finally, she handed me two plastic bags. One was empty; the other contained a bright orange outfit.

‘Put your own clothes in the empty bag and dress in the flight suit,’ she said. ‘When you’re done, leave the curtain open and go to the departure lounge.’

‘Have I passed?’

The curtain clanged as she pulled it to one side, revealing me in my underwear to the passengers waiting for their medical. ‘You’re free to fly.’

Embarrassed, I pulled the curtain shut quickly and tore the plastic wrap from the flight suit. It was a thick, tight-fitting boiler suit with a high collar that reached to just under my chin. Immediately I felt too hot. I stuffed my own clothes in the other bag and left the cubicle.

Peg was waiting for me at the entrance to the departure lounge. He was dressed the same as me.

‘Nice clash,’ he said, picking up a strand of my hair and holding it against the flight suit.

‘Why on earth would you choose orange?’ I said, looking around. ‘Anything would be better than orange.’

‘Easier to spot you in the event of a self-eject,’ he said.

‘Why would anyone self-eject?’ I couldn’t disguise the tremble in my voice.

‘If there was a problem with the ship and we had to eject, the bright orange is easier for the rescue crews to see,’ he said. ‘It’s just a health and safety thing. Don’t worry. We’ll be safe.’

‘How come we didn’t wear them when you took me up before?’

‘Strictly speaking, we should have. But it was only a quick flight and I wanted to show you a good time, not scare you to death.’

An electronic voice announced that our flight was cleared for boarding. We walked down a tunnel to the spacecraft. It was much the same as the shuttle Peg had taken me joyriding in. There were seats for fifty, laid out in wide rows just like on a bus except that the space around each seat was much greater.

‘It’s a Westland Shuttle,’ said Peg. ‘About twenty years old. These ships were designed for short distances. Utterly reliable. This one is a more recent model than the one I took you on.’

We found our seats on the back row.

‘How long will this take?’ I asked, as I strapped myself in.

‘Twenty-four hours.’

‘Really. It only took two minutes to get here from 2012.’

‘That’s because you portalled all the way,’ he said. ‘Uses a lot of fuel and is much higher risk. Like I said, we’re in the cheap seats. We’ll portal to just beyond the reach of Earth’s orbit and then cruise towards the spaceport.’

The cabin crew came round with small glass bottles. They passed me a green bottle and gave Peg a blue one. ‘Please drink all of your medicine right away,’ said the flight attendant. ‘We will be attaching helmets ready for portal in five minutes.’

‘What was that all about?’ I asked.

‘It’ll send you to sleep,’ he said. ‘When we wake up, we’ll be at the spaceport.’

‘Do we have to drink it?’

‘Yes. It’s not a cruise ship, it’s a bus. They don’t want to deal with people unstrapping to go to the toilet or experiencing motion sickness or having to feed us in a weightless environment. Much easier to send us all to sleep, strap on our helmets and go.’

Peg unscrewed his bottle and downed it in one.

‘Why do we have to wear helmets?’ I asked.

‘Safety precaution in case of eject. The cabin’s pressur­ised.’ He leant across for my bottle and untwisted the top. ‘Drink up.’

I swallowed the contents. It was a clear, sweet liquid that made my throat sting; like so many medicines it had been over-sweetened in an attempt to disguise its bitter taste.

‘Thank you for coming with me, Peg,’ I said quietly.

‘I wouldn’t have missed a trip to the spaceport for anything.’

My tongue felt thick in my mouth and my eyelids were growing heavy. ‘If we have to eject, will you hold my hand?’

‘I’ll hold it now,’ he said, his fingers intersecting mine.

‘Don’t let go.’

‘I won’t let go.’

I had a sudden desire to tell him how much his friendship meant to me, but my mouth couldn’t form the shapes, and then I was gone.

Chapter 22

Inter-Planetary Spaceport

Ben was waiting for us on the other side of the security checkpoint. ‘Welcome aboard,’ he said.

‘It’s an honour to meet you, Captain,’ said Peg, shaking Ben’s hand. ‘I’ve read about your missions.’

‘Call me Ben, please. Come on, I’ll show you to your quarters.’

The central section of the spaceport was spherical and the corridors were coiled and twisted like intestines. I quickly became disoriented. Peg, I noticed, was looking around carefully.

‘It’s like a rabbit warren,’ I said.

‘It is a bit,’ said Ben. ‘Don’t worry. There will be an induction at nine in the morning for all new employees. And I’ll give you a map. You’d be surprised how quickly you’ll learn your way around. Within a week you’ll know this place like the back of your hand.’

A week was too long.

We got into the lift down to the deck below. ‘Civilian living quarters are down on B Deck,’ said Ben. ‘The berthing areas are pretty basic, but you’ll only use it for sleeping and washing.’

We reached a door, which Ben opened with a swipe card. ‘This is your berthing area, Eden,’ said Ben. ‘Men and women have opposite sides of the passageway.’

He held the door open for me. Peg waited outside. Inside was a wall of tiny sleeping areas, no larger than coffins, stacked from the floor to the ceiling. On the wall opposite was a row of lockers.

‘Like I said, nothing special,’ said Ben. ‘Choose a rack. You’re the first of the new arrivals to get here.’

I placed my bag on the lowest rack.

Ben handed me a map. ‘This will help you find your way around. Downstairs you’ll find the library, gymnasium, cinema, stores, canteen and bar. Up on A Deck, where you arrived, are the landing bay, security and temporary accommodation for visitors. Also the Space Bar and the Officers’ Club.’

I decided to risk a question. ‘So a ship travelling to the moon would stop here and the people on board would sleep in the temporary accommodation upstairs?’

Ben nodded. ‘Maybe. Depends on their schedule.’

‘What about prisoners?’ I asked.

‘Prisoners would be taken to the holding cell on A Deck.’