Space Plague

First published in 2013 by Curious Fox,
an imprint of Capstone Global Library Limited,
7 Pilgrim Street, London, EC4V 6LB
Registered company number: 6695582

www.curious-fox.com

Text © Hothouse Fiction Ltd 2013

Series created by Hothouse Fiction
www.hothousefiction.com

The author’s moral rights are hereby asserted.

Cover Illustration by Dani Geremia

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

ISBN 978 1 78202 011 0

1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

A CIP catalogue for this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means (including photocopying or storing it in any medium by electronic means and whether or not transiently or incidentally to some other use of this publication) without the written permission of the copyright owner.

ebook created by Hothouse Fiction Ltd

With special thanks to Martin Howard

A fat, black, octopus-like creature with red eyes and a drooling slit of a mouth tapped a tentacle on the desk impatiently. “Well, John Riley, do you know the answer or not?” it slobbered.

John ran a hand through his messy mop of blond hair, his forehead lined in concentration. He leaned forward in his MorphSeat and glanced around the bright classroom, desperately looking for a clue to the answer.

In the seat next to him, a beautiful silver-haired girl from the planet Sillar lifted her shoulders in a shrug. Emmie Tarz didn’t know the answer, either.

“Umm... yes, Doctor Graal,” John said eventually. “The soil structure on planet Bezkel is unusual because... ahhh...”

“Please stop mumbling and state the answer clearly, so the whole class can hear,” interrupted the Gargon teacher.

Blushing, John stammered, “It’s unusual b-because there’s – you know – alien stuff in it...”

Doctor Graal glared at him. “That will do, Mister Riley. It is quite obvious that you do
not
know the answer. I shudder to think how you will cope with your exams. If, by some miracle, you pass, I suggest you pay more attention next term.” Turning away, she continued, “Who
can
tell me what is unusual about the soil structure on planet Bezkel... oh, of course. Mordant Talliver.”

A few seats along from John, the half-Gargon boy with black hair lowered one of the two long, black tentacles that sprouted from his ribcage. “Every century Bezkel has a ten-year solar eclipse,” he answered quickly. “Most plant life dies, producing layers of extremely rich, dark soil. This creates an especially plentiful growing season once the eclipse has passed.”

“
Excellent
answer, Mordant,” blubbered the teacher. “I’m so glad
someone
has been paying attention.”

Mordant shot a sly glance at John. “Learning must be difficult when your brain isn’t properly evolved,” he whispered, loud enough for John to hear.

Lights flickered across the surface of a small silver sphere that floated at Mordant’s shoulder. “How witty you are, young Master Talliver. And how
right
. The Earthling does not deserve to be in the same classroom as you,” droned his constant companion, the Serve-U-Droid, G-Vez.

“Yeah, primitive life forms belong in zoos,” Mordant sniggered.

Furious, John opened his mouth to retort. A hand gripped his shoulder. Looking round quickly, he saw his friend Kaal shake his head. A native of the planet Derril, Kaal’s green skin, sharp fangs, and leathery wings made him look like a demon. In his case, though, looks were deceiving: Kaal was a shy, clever student and a good friend. As John watched, the Derrilian put a finger to his lips.

Blushing an even deeper red, John ground his teeth together. Kaal was right: getting into a fight with Mordant Talliver, especially in Doctor Graal’s Galactic Geography class, was asking for trouble. The half-Gargon boy was the teacher’s favourite and she was bound to take his side. As Mordant knew well, John would land himself a detention, or worse, if he took the bait. Biting back a retort, John turned back to face Doctor Graal instead, muttering, “Maybe I’d pay more attention in class if
you
ever said anything interesting,” under his breath.

Fortunately, the Gargon teacher didn’t hear. She had lifted a metal box onto the desk with her tentacles and was busy unfastening the clips that secured its lid. “I have a very exciting sample here,” she said. “An important rock formation from the planet Zhaldaria that I found in a storage chamber at the Pan-Galactic Geography Institute during the last school holiday. It hasn’t been opened for a very long time but if the label is correct, it should be a perfect example of how a planet’s changing weather systems affect its soil structure.”

Yay, more soil
.
Too much excitement,
thought John. As he leaned back in his MorphSeat, it adjusted around his new position. Hearing a sigh from the next desk, he glanced round. Emmie rolled her navy-blue eyes. John winked at her, knowing that his friend was thinking exactly the same thing. Both of them hated Galactic Geography lessons.

At the front of the class, Doctor Graal’s eyes lit up as the lid of the box flipped open. “Oh,
yes
,” she drooled, “it’s a
fine
example. How absolutely wonderful.” Two tentacles dipped into the box and pulled out a rock the size of a football. Wobbling forward, she slithered from one desk to the next, showing her exhibit to the students. “Zhaldarian rock is fascinating to study because in ancient times the planet’s weather system changed so frequently,” she said. “Note the different-coloured bands. Each layer was, at one point in history, the surface of Zhaldaria. By analysing the bands, galactic geologists can tell exactly what happened in the planet’s ecosystem over many thousands of years. It is especially rare because Zhaldaria’s star – Zaleta – went supernova almost a million years ago, forming the Zaleta Nebula. This small piece of rock is probably all that is left of a once thriving planet.”

John leaned forward, trying his best to look interested, as Doctor Graal turned the lump of rock this way and that in front of him. As she moved on, he shrugged.

Yeah, fascinating
, he thought.

“What does this band tell us about Zhaldaria’s weather?” asked Kaal once Doctor Graal reached his desk, running a finger along a ribbon of black that ran through the centre of the rock.

“Students must
not
touch,” snapped the teacher, slapping Kaal’s hand away with one of her tentacles. “This sample is extremely old and delicate. To answer your question, the black band dates from the first appearance of Zhaldarian Flu, which wiped out the entire Zhaldarian race before spreading across the universe.”

“Ugh,” said Kaal, wiping his hand on his silver and red jumpsuit uniform.

Doctor Graal rolled her eyes. “There is no danger. There hasn’t been a single case of Zhaldarian Flu in over two hundred years.”

A chime sounded, ending the class. Around the classroom, students chattered while they slipped their portable ThinScreen computers into carry cases.

Gently placing her rock back in its box, Doctor Graal shouted over the noise. “Class dismissed, but do not forget – end-of-term exams begin tomorrow. I expect you all to revise
constantly
until then, especially Emmie Tarz and John Riley. If you fail, you will
not
be returning to Hyperspace High next term.”

“I’ll send G-Vez to help you both with your packing if you like,” Mordant chipped in. “You might as well get started straight away.”

Emmie’s blue eyes glinted dangerously as she turned on the half-Gargon. “Why don’t you do that,” she hissed. “It will give me a chance to throw your nasty little droid out of an airlock.”

“Oh I say, Master Talliver. Are you going to let her—”

“Do you always have to be such a
jerk
, Mordant?” John cut in, his hands balling into fists.

A grin spread across Mordant Talliver’s face.

“Is there a problem, Mordant?” Doctor Graal called over.

“John just called me a—”

“There’s no problem, Doctor Graal,” Kaal interrupted with a forced laugh. “We’re just joking around.” Taking John’s shoulder with one enormous hand and Emmie’s with the other, he pushed them both through the door and into the corridor outside. “John and Emmie were just saying they’re on their way to revise right now,” he bellowed over his shoulder, drowning out Mordant’s indignant protests as he steered his friends through the crowd of students leaving the classroom.

Once they’d bumped and jostled their way out of Doctor Graal’s earshot, the Derrilian crossed his arms and sighed. “That wasn’t very sensible,” he said. “You know Mordant’s trying to get you into trouble before exams.”

“I know,” said John. “I can’t help it. He’s such a—”

“Spiteful, smug, arrogant waste of atoms,” Emmie finished for him, hooking long silvery hair behind one of her pointed ears and scowling. “What’s his problem anyway? Does he wake up every morning and think ‘I’m going to be a vile, obnoxious bully today’?”

Kaal passed a hand across his face – the Derrilian equivalent of a shrug, John had learned – then patted Emmie on the shoulder. “Gargons,” he said, “you know what they’re like. Can’t you just ignore him?”

“Huh,” Emmie snorted. “I haven’t forgotten what he did during the Space Spectacular. He tried to wreck my friendship with you guys.”

“It would be great if we
could
ignore him,” said John, “but he’s really good at winding us up. He
knows
Emmie and I are worried about failing the exams, and with me only being here by accident...”

John’s voice trailed off. As both of his friends knew, he was worried that he didn’t really belong at Hyperspace High. The school, housed on an enormous spaceship, was the best in the universe and all of its students were specially selected. All except John, that is. Eight weeks earlier he had been mistaken for a Martian prince and accidentally whisked away from Earth. Since then, Headmaster Lorem had given John a permanent place and told him many times that he belonged here as much as any of the other students. Even so, John still had a nagging feeling that Mordant was right: he didn’t deserve his place.

“Don’t let Mordant get to you,” said Kaal seriously. “He’s an idiot and the last thing you need right now is trouble. Try to keep out of his way for the next few days.”

“That sounds like a great plan to me,” John answered. “The less I see of him, the better.”

“That goes for me, too,” said Emmie. “Anyway, come on, John – we’d better be going.”

“Aren’t you coming to the Centre with me?” asked Kaal, frowning. “You know I hate eating on my own.”

John punched his arm. “Somehow you’ll just have to survive without us,” he said with a grin. “I hate to say this, but for once Doctor Graal’s right. Emmie and I have to revise, or neither of us stand a chance.”

“We’ll be in the library if you want us,” Emmie added. “Come on, John.”

”Wait up, you guys!” Kaal called to Bareon and Lishtig, who were heading to the Centre. John and Emmie padded down the thickly carpeted corridor in the opposite direction, towards a TravelTube.

* * *

“Library,” the TravelTube told them as its door opened with a quiet
vipp
.

The first time John had visited the school library, he had expected it to be bigger. However, there was no need for a large library on a spaceship where every student could access all the information held in its massive data banks from anywhere on board. Most students preferred to study in their own dorm rooms, and some didn’t even realize there
was
a library on board. Only students who had noisy roommates or who just liked the place used it. John was one of the latter. The shelves of ancient books reminded him of libraries on Earth, though the precious books here were protected behind glass. Beautiful holo-paintings hung from the walls, while soft lamps gave the room a cosy atmosphere.

“What’s on the revision timetable for tonight, Zepp?” Emmie asked the ship’s computer, as she dropped her bag on a desk in the middle of the empty room and sat in a MorphSeat that immediately adjusted to fit her perfectly.

From nowhere a friendly voice answered. “You will be
delighted
to learn that tonight is the night for Galactic Geography revision.”

John had named the ship’s computer Zepp – short for Zero-Electronic Personality Program – soon after arriving at the school. Since then, everyone in the school had started using the name.

Groaning, John pulled a second MorphSeat over and sat beside Emmie. “We just
had
Galactic Geography,” he complained. “You’re trying to torture us, aren’t you, Zepp?”

“Torturing is prohibited by my programming,” the computer replied. “You will revise more efficiently while the subject is still fresh in your minds.”

The large ThinScreen on the desk in front of John and Emmie switched on.

“Let’s review the coursework from the beginning of term,” Zepp’s voice continued. “We’ll start with the general galactic mapping, cover planet formation and weather systems, then move on to nebulae.”

At once, the ThinScreen created a perfect 3-D image of a galaxy in the air between John and Emmie. Spinning slowly, a glowing spiral made up of billions of tiny stars lit up their faces.

“OK, then,” said Zepp. “Who can show me the Scutum-Centaurus Arm?”

Emmie looked blank. John reached out and touched one of the bands of light that curved out from the galactic centre. It flashed blue, while the words “Scutum-Centaurus” appeared above it.

Over the next half hour, the computer quizzed the two students on the structure of the galaxy.

“Now, we need to move on,” said Zepp eventually. A glittering cloud of gases, lit from within by millions of stars, blazed in the dim library. “John, can you tell me what a nebula is?”

John knew this one. “Nebulae are massive clouds of dust and gases, formed by large stars exploding,” he answered.

“Large stars aren’t the only things exploding. I think my head is about to burst,” muttered Emmie.

“Try and pay attention,” Zepp said smoothly. “Inside the nebula’s core, the gravity is constant while the temperature reaches up to...” As the computer went into detail about each type of nebula, John‘s hand ached from scribbling notes with the stylus onto his ThinScreen.

Finally, Emmie leaped out of her seat. With a wave of her hand, she scattered the holographic nebula into pixels that floated around the room. “Enough,” she said. “I’m not kidding. Any more of this and my brain is going to start dribbling out of my ears. Plus, I can’t believe we’re going to need to know half that stuff.”

“You might be right,” said Zepp’s voice. “You probably
should
take a break. No one ever passed an exam with their brain dribbling out of their ears.”

“Those are the wisest words I’ve heard all day,” sighed Emmie. Reaching down, she grabbed John’s hand and pulled him upright. “Come on, Earthling. I need to blow off some steam.”