
DRILLER
(c) Incentive Software 1987



Several Years Ago        5
Earth - A Dying Planet   5
Evath - A Fresh Hope     6
The Developing Nation    7
Energy                   8
An Interlude             9
Mitral                  10
A Maiden Voyage         11
Your Mission            24


1


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS


Story & Documentation
Richard Robinson


  4
 


SEVERAL YEARS AGO 
The child Lesleigh glared curiously at its teacher. The teacher's single eye shone back, 
unblinking in the dark recess of the classroom cubicle. The child tapped impatiently on 
the teacher's sensor, asking for more information, and duly receiving it in a matter of 
seconds.
 Lesleigh was bright a fast learner, a seeker of knowledge that would take the child 
from a short youth into a promising adult career. The figure that crouched close to the 
screen, sitting on its swivel chair, with feet swinging far from the floor, was hungry with 
an insatiable appetite for fact and theory. The seat spun continuously; Lesleigh could 
not sit still - not when a lesson was in progress.

EARTH - A DYING PLANET 
Earth is our mother planet that lies in a solar system very far from the Vasculan star.
There are few certainties about Earth and the culture of its peoples, except the 
memories of the first Elders which are preserved electronically. Legends do, and will 
continue to prevail amongst the people of Evath as a hope remains of reuniting with 
their Fathers.
The people of Earth were irresponsible and lacked vision in their abuse of the 
elements and natural resources of the planet. The soils were raped and starved of 
nourishment, whilst many of the races and nations divided to develop languages and 
cultures of their own. Segregation continued throughout every part of each society - 
the peoples were split and individuals thought only of themselves. The continued 
dividing of groups and countries led to inner conflict between single people, families, 
societies and eventually nations. The lack of harmony meant that global law enforce- 
ment was an impossibility, and minor quarrels and personal greed led to growing crime 
and ultimately to war on an epic scale.
The destruction of the world and the termination of their existence seemed the only 
goals of the majority of Earthlings. Few desired this end, but fewer still saw a solution 
to the horrifying conclusion.
It was tragic that great amounts of time and wealth were being spent on petty 
conflicts and large-scale destruction. For all Earthlings possessed a brilliance and 
genius that only a few Evathians can match. Fortunately, a number used their gift to 
more beneficial ends -furthering medical progress and physical research. Even the 
Elders today cannot speak of all the wonders of Earth, for many are sure to have been 
forgotten. But some of these achievements exist today in our society - the legacy of 
an advancement in medicine has left us with an extended life-span of over twice the 
average recorded at Earth's peak, a faster development, and a virtual halt on the 
outward ageing process.
Some Earth scientists developed bombs they were frightened to use, while others 
sought a way out. Earth was over-populated and the human race was seeking a new 
home. Unmanned probes were sent to nearby solar systems and other galaxies. It was 
years before the closest one returned.

  5
 

EVATH - A FRESH HOPE
  
A probe returned from a long lourney to the solar system dominated by the star 
Vasculan. It brought news, via recorded film and environmental samples, of a habitable 
planet, not unlike Earth. The new planet was much smaller in radius and had no 
detectable animal life, only primitive vegetation. Evath, as it was named bya forgotten 
scientist, was younger than Earth and ideal for sustaining human life as the old planet 
had done for so long. It was perfect.
There was one drawback. Evath was so far from Earth, that the journey, in any 
sizeable craft, would take over a century. No crew could live that long, no colony could 
be established from a ship full of aged, decrepid travellera Space travel was not as 
advanced as other branches of science at this time - more money was being spent on 
missiles and medicine which complemented each other perfectly.
The trip would have to be made utilising the present spacecraft and the problem 
overcome with the most up-to-date science. After much deliberating, a solution of 
sorts was decided on. It was not altogether satisfactory, but the scientists were 
desperate that something should be done quickly. Experiments with cryogenics 
(whereby a life is frozen, ageing halts completely until defrosting), were not progressing 
rapidly, but they had come far enough to be able to "freeze" embryos with an 87% 
recovery rate. It was decided that the first human envoy to be sent to Evath would be a 
ship of unborn, undeveloped babies.
Discreet enquiries brought forth no shortage of volunteers. Three hundred parents 
were selected to donate embryos for the voyage; thirty of these were chosen to take 
their children to the new world. These people were sacrificing their lives for their 
offspring to be 'born' on Evath. The original parents would grow old, have their children 
continue the task of overseeing the future race and steer the ship towards the distant 
planet.
Through generations, the safety and security of these tiny lives was assured as new 
children were born on the ship, their sole purpose to guard their grandchildren who 
had not yet been born.
Life on the 'Exodus' was of a high quality. The shipwas large enough to accommodate 
huge sections of Earth culture, science and machinery. But the actual space taken up 
by the future population of Evath was small in comparison. A smaller section was 
dedicated to a number of embryos of other living things: animals and plants that would 
provide food. The guardians ate from stores which had been planned and packed in 
precise amounts.
And so the 'Exodus' landed on its intended destination.The guardians taught all they 
had been taught or could remember to their ancestors whose first footsteps were on 
the soil of Evath.......and ever since we have awaited the arrival of another ship from 
Earth.
   
  6
 

THE DEVELOPING NATION
  
The colony on Evath was slow in developing into a civilised state. After all, it started as 
a nation of children. And, as such, it suffered growing pains. For a while, chaos 
threatened to take over, and the new planet looked like it would follow Earth in the 
development of counter-cultures and segregated, troubled states.
It was left to the oldest colonists, namely 'The Elders', to tighten their control over the 
unruly settlement. They still held respect over all of their minors, who regarded them as 
the source of all wisdom and knowledge. All insight and instruction came from the 
Elders, and peace reigned under their guiding hands.
Years passed, and the Elders died. New Elders were appointed to take their place, 
and they upheld the traditions and loose laws that had been enforced. But this ruling 
was not stable within the community, for the new Elders were only equal to everyone 
else, for they had been 'born' on Evath too. There were no surviving members from the 
original Elders who had even secondhand memories of life on Earth. There were fierce 
arguments as to who should rule: would it be the strongest or the most wise? The 
oldest or youngest? For more than a decade the rules were broken sporadically by 
almost everyone. The truth was that nobody was sure what the rules were or what was 
an acceptable code of behaviour.
The Elders had some respect remaining, and with a thinning band of supporters, 
they did what they hoped would be avoidable - they formed an army. With this army, 
the people of Evath were conquered again and brought back under control. The new 
system was stricter, more specific, and bound by a set book of laws. Under these laws, 
no Evathian could live permanently on either of the other two continents - they were 
confined to Garistia. All degradation, theft and violence was punishable by death.
This proved to be the shock that brought Evath back to its former promise. And
with the return of peace, the Elders slackened their laws slightly. The death penalty was 
replaced with exile; criminals were banished from the planet, despite the empty 
continents that graced two thirds of the globe. These criminals were allowed to take 
with them any of their possessions, but they could never return and their chances of 
survival were considered negligible. They were nicknamed 'Ketars' as a label of scorn 
and pity.
Ketars were not pitied for long; a labelled 'Ketar' was banished and forgotten about; 
by law they could not be talked about by name.
The Elders formed a force that replaced the army and stood for law and order, as well 
as disciplining the mining interests that were a prime concern on Evath by this time. 
The force was called "The League" and to join was an honour and a recognition of your 
skills. Today, life on Evath is controlled by the League, and a large number of the total 
population have posts within its complicated hierarchy. An elite few obtain admittance 
to the ranks of the 'Driller Federation' which is the most exclusive League department.

  7
 

ENERGY
  
Man's energy problems came to an end with the fortunate discovery of a new source of 
power - Rubicon crystals. Not that Man was looking for them particularly, nor were 
they the result of a dramatic scientific breakthrough. Their discovery was an accident, 
a fluke of chance; before a human colony was established on Evath - when the first 
exploration probes were sent to assess the planet's habitable qualities - these 
translucent red crystals were found in abundance across each ofthethree continents.
Detailed analysis revealed that they were a prime source of energy, and although 
this energy was exhaustible, there were enough of them for such considerations to be 
valueless. This discovery was as important as the discovery of coal, gas and oil on 
Earth centuries ago. But the difference on Evath was that no or very little mining was 
necessary when the crystals were lying around waiting to be taken. Rubicon crystals 
meant that colonisation of Evath could go ahead - the birth of a new world for 
thousands of people.
The crystals were named both because of their shimmering red colour (ie. their 
likeness to rubies) and to celebrate the revolutionary step that was being
taken in leaving 'home' permanently for the first time.
For years Rubicon crystals were used in every aspect of an Evathian's life,
without a full understanding of their structure, compostion and function.
Simply no-one under- stood what they were, how or why they worked. And no-one
cared. No-one that is,  except a small group of inquisitive scientists who,
with as much forethought as intelligence, were aware that this new-found power
source was being used irresponsibly. It was true that the huge quantities of
crystal still being drawn effortlessly from Evath's crust would last for
generations of humanity. But the colony would grow and the planet would
eventually be fully populated with many more millions of people, all requiring 
energy to survive and thrive. lt seemed to these scientists that they were the
only few who grasped the significance of the colony's continued growth - they
foresaw a repeat of the situation which they had left behind on Earth, where
the countries were over populated, people starving and the planet's natural
resources almost depleted.
The crystals were not as complex or as baffling as the scientists first
thought them to be. They discovered that their energy was very like that
contained in natural light, i.e. the energy provided by the rays of the sun,
VascuIan. It was not long before a process was invented by which Rubicon
crystals could be artificially manufactured by the presence of sunlight. Some
saw this breakthrough as a disaster for the new planet - Rubicon mining would
cease and the tight control the Elders had over the power sources would
decline.
Yet what could have been the predicted disaster proved to be quite the
opposite. Although mining of Rubicon did indeed slacken, there was no loss of
the Elders' control. For the Evathian scientists had apparently stumbled upon
the secret of Evath and its remarkable energy source - the star Vasculan that
shone on their planet was unique. It alone provided a light that could store
its energy in this solid form. This explained in a satisfyingly simple way why
no mineral on Earth had ever been discovered with such useful properties. Thus
a tight hold was kept on the full secrets of the crystals' power.
With new wealth and a freshly optimistic outlook, Evath's expanding and
prospering colony began mining the crust with greater vigour and enthusiasm.
The basic and rudimentary techniques that had been needed for the easy
obtaining of naturally occurring Rubicon gave way to new methods and equipment
that harnessed challenging technology. It was not greatly surprising that
Evath harboured a wealth of valuable minerals, which the inhabitants were not
slow in exploiting.
Meanwhile, the manufacture of the crystals continued and with experience, new 
forms of crystal were produced - crystals of different colours, strengths,
sizes, shapes and functions. The Evathians had harnessed a power source whose
possibilities were literally endless.

  8
 

AN INTERLUDE
  
Lesleigh was twelve years old, already a full-grown adult, and ready to start
work for the League. But Lesleigh held a more ambitious hope - the Driller
Federation.
Lesleigh's grandfather had been a member of the Federation, but not for long.
He continually boasted of his responsibilities, although he never made his job
out to be lighthearted or dismissed his role in society. What came as his
downfall was an error in the law, a freak mistake of justice that convicted
him of a murder of which he was not guilty. He was exiled, branded as a Ketar,
and never seen again. Not untIl five weeks after his banishment did new
evidence arise that contested his guilt. It was too late to save him. The law
did not allow a person branded as a Ketar to return.
Lesleigh was not bitter or seeking retribution, but instead wanted to become
part of the law enforcement and ensure that justice was done in future.

  9
 

MITRAL
  
The twin moons orbiting Evath were named, Mitral and Tricuspid. They were not 
considered important, and besides, there were three whole continents to
explore before travel extended beyond the 'New Eden' that Evath promised.
The Ketars, branded criminals who were banished from the planet, were quick
to colonise one of them. The choice was a spur of the moment decision, Mitral
was decided upon. There was nothing preventing colonisation of both
satellites, except that they had the common sense to push all their resources
and energy into the founding of one 'outlaw' colony, which reduced the risks
of failure.
Life on Mitral was tough, as one might expect when the community was made up
of murderers, thieves and other criminals. There was much crime and dishonesty 
between the Ketars, until inevitably, a hierarchy was established, with not
the oldest, but the strongest and most cunning taking control. They
disciplined the others, but did not trust them any more than an Evathian
would. So a security system of protection locks, laser deterrents and secret
computer networks was built to link each of the sectors and protect the ruling
Ketars. The 'lower' classes of Ketars had access to the least buildings on
Mitral. Only the leaders had the means to enter the sectors that are found on
the lightest and darkest faces, where they lived and kept the control of this 
vast network.
As each exile made his home on Mitral, the colony grew with the additional
supplies that each brought with him. Mining was attempted as an experiment,
and not surprisingly, the rock was as rich in precious minerals as Evath. The
colony grew, and mining began on a large scale. Because of the soft and
craterous surface of the moon, organised mining was difficult. So a huge
operation was undertaken to alter the entire moonscape - eighteen platforms
were constructed symmetrically around Mitral, flat and sturdy platforms that
could withstand great pressure. Through these mining was easy, and on them
buildings were erected.
This colonisation took place over many years, for supplies were hard to come
by. The Evathians discovered what the Ketars were doing but they did nothing to stop
them - Evath was still pure and had enough mining of its own without jealousy
of criminals. The Ketars were ignored and permitted their existence, while more were sent
to join their ranks.
 *  *  *  *  *
The Ketars had no real background on Mitral of mining techniques and their 
inexperience and exhaustive disruption of the moon took its toll. Pockets of
gas began to build up inside Mitral, the pressure increasing as more minerals
and Rubicon were taken from the rock. The Ketars discovered that something was
amiss when minor explosions and fires broke out throughout the colony. They
traced the source to the interior of the moon and tried in vain to burn off
the gas in a controlled way. But they had neither the tools nor a full
comprehension of what exactly was going on inside Mitral, and after a few
attempts, they abandoned the moon and landed on one of the unpopulated
continents of Evath, hoping to elude the residents. But, before leaving, they
set their security system to automatic!

  10
 

A MAIDEN VOYAGE
  
(i) 
38th Quasary, 328
Lesleigh Skerrit poured a half glass of milk and replaced the polyform carton
in the freeze-locker. After double-locking the protective hatch, the young Law
trainee rose and lifted the glass to an eager mouth. The liquid was
refreshingly cool, revitalising even. Lesleigh emptied the glass and then
dropped it into the sink.
Padding silently across the floor, Lesleigh reached for the light-switch and
entered the front room. The kitchen immediately snapped into darkness behind.
Montigue Yarbro smiled at his employee as Lesleigh crossed the room, pulled
a chair from beneath the lip of a plastic writing-desk and sat down.
"Pleased to meet you Skerrit;' smiled Yarbro, "I've been waiting for this
occasion for a long time." He shuffled around in his chair so that he could
face the young trainee. "I hope you don't mind us calling at this time; it is
quite late."
"No. I don't mind," lied Lesleigh, "I'm not sleepy."
Yarbro yawned, scratched his chin.
"I wish I could say the same. Still, the matter is an important one. We've
come to discuss your job, to make you an offer." As Lesleigh's worried gaze
shifted to the silent and nodding figure of Trent Hoppe, Montigue's eyes lit
in faint amusement. "Don't look so pensive. There's no need to worry."
There was little relief evident in Lesleigh's harrowed expression. "It's just
what I've heard, you know, about other students who don't come up to scratch
and are dropped from the training programme. I hope this visit doesn't involve
me in that way?"
"It doesn't," said Hoppe drily, "On the contrary, the State's guarantee is
that allstudents who pass their final training examinations are automatically
accepted into the force."
Lesleigh acknowledged with a wry grin.
Yarbro produced a tidy sheaf of papers and flicked through them briefly. After
a few moments study, he closed the folder and dropped it to the floor, "That
is your year report. You seem to have excelled in many areas. Apparently,
looking through all the reports this term, you've come out top. Did you know
that?"
"No, Sir." replied Lesleigh.
"You've done very well," explained Yarbo. "That's basically why we're here.
We've come to make you an offer."
Lesleigh frowned.
"What sort of offer?"
"An offer you can't refuse," laughed Montigue, stroking his moustache. "Or an
offer you won't want to refuse."
His grating, slightly weak laugh made Lesleigh feel distinctly ill at ease.
"It is, very simply, a promotion. But a promotion unlike any seen before in
the State. You are the first to make such a drastic leap in responsibility."
He paused for his words  to have the maximum effect on Lesleigh. "You will be
promoted from trainee to a member of the Driller Federation or, maybe as you
know it, the Elite" explained Yarbro. This is an unusual situation. it has
never occurred before."
Hoppe ground his cigarette into the ashtray and lay back, "Do you accept?"
"Of course," said Lesleigh. "Of course I accept. It just takes a moment to
sink in, that's all."
"Actually," intoned Hoppe sombrely, "you had little choice. Your forms have
already been filled out."
Lesleigh shrugged.
"I suppose my response is hardly unexpected."
"No," said Yarbro, "We knew you would accept. You have ambition as well as 
academic and physical promise. Your training report was very comprehensive."
"But why me? I've had no extra training, no Federation training."

  11
 

"We have decided, this year, to try and encourage the Elders to accept a new 
recruitment program. This involves removing the most promising candidates from 
training school each year and placing them in an exclusive Federation
programme. The Elders are listening to us, with scepticism admittedly, but
they are allowing us to test our idea."
"And if I don't come up to scratch, you won't be able to let the best from
next year enter."
"Thafs correct", said Hoppe, "You see, the Elders are a stubborn bunch.
They're opposed to change, and are quite happy to sit back and let everything
run smoothly, without mishaps, without disturbance."
"Exactly," saId Yarbro, "So you have to prove that the system we are proposing
will work"
Failure, Lesleigh realised, would mean a lot of pressure on already weary
shoulders.
"When do I start?"
"Tomorrow," said Yarbo, "Come and see me at my office, I'll fix up a uniform
etc. There are some forms to be signed, things like that. Then you'll meet
some of the Federation and be able to talk with them, discuss the training."
He paused. "And then we'll show you what you have to do."
"What do I have to do?"
"Well this is difficult you see. We have arranged a small task for you. It
involves a large amount of physical effort but is perfectly simple to
complete. The trouble is, though, it is crucial that you succeed. Not just
because of the Elders' decision but because of something more important."
"What's that?", asked Lesleigh.
"It involves the Ketars," explained Hoppe. "You might not know this, but they
have abandoned Mitral. At first we thought they may have been planning to
launch an attack on us but realised that, of course, the idea was pure
fantasy. They have few weapons and no fast transport. Naturally, we sent a
probe to Mitral to take a look around. It brought back readings, pictures
etc."
He paused.
"Combined together, these elements tell a pretty disturbing story," Yarbro
said. "You see, the trouble is, the Ketars attempted to mine Mitral.
Unsuccessfully, I might add. And that is where the problem lies. Because of
their heavy handed efforts, large pockets of gas have built up beneath the
surface. They attempted to burn the gas off but then evacuated when it became
too dangerous. It is up to us to complete the Job using specialist equipment."
"Why? What trouble is the gas, why did they evacuate?"
"The gas looks set to ignite. If it does, Mitral will, simply, explode. The
whole moon will just burst, completely erupt. This explosion will have a
disastrous effect on us. Our scientists have calculated that it will destroy
the entire continent of New-Asia. Completely."
"Now you might not think that concerns us much," said Hoppe. "But it does.
Tests have revealed that New-Asia is rich in Rubicon, just waiting to be mined. It 
is rich, if not richer than this continent when the first colonists arrived."
Lesleigh breathed deeply, "When is the gas likely to ignite?"
"Not long," said Yarbro, "Our scientists have guessed about two to two and a
half weeks. A ship has been built and the finishing touches are being applied.
When fully ready, it will take you to Mitral and leave you there. Your task
will be to pinpoint the locations where the gas pockets are. Once located,
eighteen specially designed rigs will be teleported onto the platforms and the
gas burnt out. By then, though, your task will have been completed."
Lesleigh remained silent for a few moments before speaking.
"What about training, what sort of training do I get?"
"You don't need any training," said Yarbro. "Everything you need to know, you
have already been taught, it is a relatively simple task"

  12
 

"Okay", mumbled Lesleigh, "I accept. Just let me come and talk it over in
the morning. I'm tired and would like to go to bed."
"That's fine," said Yarbro, rising to his feet. "Here's my office number
and the building address.
He produced a scrap of paper and placed it on the desk."Nine o'clock
tomorrow morning. Okay?"
"Fine. Thanks."
Yarbro smiled and removed his coat from the hanger.
"See you tomorrow then. I won't be in the office but Mr. Hoppe will. He'll
take care of you."

Am 39th Quasary, 328
The harsh white glare of VascuIan streamed through half-open blinds,
casting a row offlickering bars over the desk like a cage of light and
shadow.
Guarding his eyes, Trent Hoppe assembled his notes coolly, creased the
corner and slid them into a predetermined slot in the desktop.
At his side, Lesleigh Skerrit brushed a loose wisp of hair from eyes that
were wearied not only from the sunlight. It had been a tiring morning of
studying declarations and signing forms.
Hoppe lit a cigarette and replaced the platinum, opal-studded lighter in
his trouser pocket. After inhaling and allowing the smoke to curl from his
nostrils, he spoke.
"How do you feel?"
"Fine, just slightly nervous."
"Oh, that's understandable. I admit, my first mission wasn't as difficult
as yours, but I still suffered in the same way."
He laughed thinly."You'll get over it. Everybody does." Hoppe puffed on
his cigarette for a moment before resuming. "You realise that you leave
tomorrow, first thing?"
"Yes, Mr. Yarbro explained the timing; he's going to fetch me a timetable
before I leave the office today."
"No, I'll be handling that. I'll get you a copy in a minute," said Hoppe.
"But first, how would you like to see the vessel which is taking you there?
We had a ship modified specifically to take you and four crew to Mitral.
They will leave you there and return the ship safely."
"I'd love to see it; what's it called?"
"The 'Bellastania' or the 'Last Hope' as it has been nicknamed, would you
believe? A bit corny, I know, but it wasn't my idea."
Lesleigh paled.
"I don't like to think of me being the last hope."
"Don't worry," reassured Hoppe. "You'll manage, the task is quite simple
really." He reached for a grey wall console. "Anyway, as you've probably
guessed, this office is only temporary. I had it put together so I could
watch over the construction of the vessel. It hangs over the hangar you
see."
He threw a switch and a dull hum sprung up.
Lesleigh's ears determined the source of the emission. Eyes automatically
flicked to the shutters. They were rising, grating apart. Lubrication fluid
dribbled from rusty teeth and spattered onto the grates below. Oily chains
tightened within, hidden joints groaned. Artificial light from the hangar
beyond barely penetrated the murky glass.
"Take a look," suggested Hoppe as the shutters slowed, the electronic hum
faded.Lesleigh accepted the invitation and stepped towards the window,
elbows fell to the 
desk, eyes peered over the brink. Below, a long way below, lay the'Last
Hope', its metal frame completely filling the entire hangar. Chains dangled
from above; dwindling into oblivion hundreds of feet below. Cranes stood
silent, metal walkways and supports hung over the dull metal of the vessel.
Tiny, yellow figures scurried here and there. Lesleigh smirked, regarding
their movements with amusement.

  13
 
   
"What are they doing now?"
Hoppe strode over to the glass and rested his palms against it, eyes
pivoting into the void.
He studied their actions for a moment before answering.
"Packing, I think. See those trolleys? They're carrying supplies."
"What sort of supplies?"
"Food, things like that."
Lesleigh watched one particular trolley as it rolled across the hangar, its
operator struggling futilely.
"Must be a !ot of food," joked Lesleigh, squinting in an attempt to
determine the distinctive logo which marked each crate.
"What was that?"
A Skull? And below it a cross? Two crossbones perhaps?
Skull and crossbones? Lesleigh's mind spun.
Skull and crossbones........
A blur beneath the logo, a word perhaps. A word written in red. And then
Lesleigh noticed a gap, very faint but definitely a gap. So there were two
words.......     
Lesleigh studied the blur intently before the trolley disappeared beneath
the belly of the vessel.
Two words and a skull and crossbones. All written in red.
Poison? Maybe, Danger Poison?
Or.......'Danger - Explosives'?
Explosives?
Why are they loading explosives aboard?" asked Lesleigh calmly. Hoppe
pushed himself away from the glass. "Explosives? I don't know. Are you sure
thats what you saw?"
"Yes I'm certain."
Silence.
Hoppe glanced at his watch with deliberation.
"Oh Christ;" he muttered, snapping his fingers. "The meeting, I've got to
get to the meeting."
He looked at Lesleigh. Their gazes met, locked.
"I'll have to go now," he said. "I'll be late for the meeting."
Lesleigh took the hint. "I'll take a look around, and go and see
Johnstone."
"Yeah fine. I'll see you later."
They filed out of the office. Hoppe closed and locked the door behind them.
Lesleigh found Johnstone in the stores. He was enbying a few moments rest
until packing recommenced.
The frantic completion of the vessel over the previous few weeks had
certainly dragged the lifeforce from him. He looked sullen, exhausted.
The ex-scientist brightened, though, when Lesleigh entered. Offerings of
coffee, or cigarettes were politely refused.
"Just spending a bit of time with myself" he smiled gazing at the dusty
floor. "Never much time for rest these days. Always on the move, on the
go.">
Lesleigh sat down on the lid of a crate, gingerly, afraid it might not hold
the weight.
"How's the packing going?"
"Fine, fine." Johnstone glanced at his watch. "Just a lot of hard strenuous
exercise that's all."
He lifted a coffee to his lips and sipped at the steaming liquid.
"To tell the truth, I'll be glad when it's all over."
"Have you got the timetable with you?" asked Lesleigh. "That's what I came
for."
"No. Mr. Hoppe said he'd fetch it for me. He's doing it on that copier."
"He's in a meeting just now;' said Lesleigh. "I've just left his office."
"A meeting? He never mentioned a meeting to me", muttered Johnstone. "Never
 mind, there's a lot of surprise meetings cropping up this week. They've
always got something new to discuss."

  14
 
      
Lesleigh's mind barely heard what Johnstone had said. The connection between
 mind and body had been temporarily severed.
"Have you any idea why they'd be taking explosives aboard?", asked Lesleigh.
"Why explosives?"
"Explosives?" Johnstone looked puzzled. "They wouldn't need explosives, not
on a mission like this."
He paused to think, then grinned.
"Oh I know what you mean. Those crates with the skulls on, is that what you've 
seen?"
"Yeah, I saw someone loading them onto the ship just two minutes ago."
"They're not explosives," explained Johnstone. "Food, simply food. Mr. Yarbro
told us he'd be using some old crates for holding food instead of us having
to build some new ones. He brought them over this morning."
"How do you know that explosives haven't been left in by mistake?"
"Because he said so. He said they contained food, I believed him."
"So you didn't open them?" Lesleigh asked.
"No!" Johnstone sounded annoyed. "No, I didn't open them. If I went around
opening crates that weren't mine, I'd be dragged in for stealing."
He looked away and plucked a cigarette from a leather pouch.
"I'm sorry for sounding ratty," he admitted. "You're bound to feel concerned.
After all, I'm not going on the bloody ship."
"It's not that," said Lesleigh. "It's the fact that if an explosive was left
in by chance and it, somehow, went off, the ship could be damaged. We'd have
to stop. The mission might be postponed, or maybe even cancelled."
Lesleigh paused then continued.
"I must do my best to prevent disaster. I've been selected, chosen."
Johnstone inhaled smoke and then shot Lesleigh a glance.
"You think that the destruction of New-Asia would be a disaster? You do don't
you?"
Lesleigh looked bewildered, slightly hostile.
"Of course I do."
"Well I've a better one for you."
He paused.
"I did some research into the size and nature of the blast from Mitral, if it
was destroyed. My findings may not be solid fact, solid evidence, but even the
slightest sign of disaster I am going to describe to you must be prevented."
"What is this disaster? Does it go further than the destruction of New-Asia?"
"Oh yes, much further," Johnstone continued. "You see, if Mitral did explode,
the blast might totally ruin New-Asia but it would also act as a push, like
a wave". He put the cigarette to his lips and blew a thin funnel of smoke into
the musty air. "You see, Mitral is not too far from us. If it did explode, it
would be like, say, a shotgun blast. A blast from short range. True, the
continent would suffer badly but the blast would also push our planet, push
us away. It would push us out of orbit...."
"You sure?"
"Pretty sure, mind you're not to tell nobody about this, right?"
"Yeah, Okay."
Johnstone paused to sip coffee.
"And if we were pushed out of orbit, we'd drift away from the sun. The
temperature of the planet would drop. In no time at all, we'd all be dead."
Lesleigh rose coldly.
"It's only a theory mind," said Johnstone, smoothing his hair back. "Only a
theory."
"I'll come and see you later," said Lesleigh, as soon as I've got the
timetable fromHoppe."
"Okay."
Lesleigh staggered weakly from the store room and began to ascend the
stairs.

  15
 
   

(ii) 
lotania 
A bitter wind cast clouds of fine sand into the chill air, like a wave of
foaming ocean, whipping dust from the friable soil. The saffron glow of the
gibbous moon caused the tiny particles to appear suspended in mid-atmosphere,
like frozen fireflies.
The few, water-starved clumps of scrub which dotted the bleak landscape leant
 submissively in the breeze. Dead leaves curled into the air to be engulfed by
the oppressive darkness.
Silence reigned in the valley tonight. Silence and Peace.
Normally, Kirst Ellan would have relished the silence, the peace. But not
tonight. Every night of every week he sat on the same rock. His rock. Listening
to the silence. Tonight though, his routine had been broken, thrown into
turmoil. Peace no longer reigned in lotania.
Montigue Yarbro lit a cigarette, inhaled and blew the smoke into the night.
It was Ellan who spoke first.
"Which force do you represent? Law - the League? Military? Federation?"
"Federation."
Kirst squinted into the valley. "I suppose you've come to find out why we
abandoned Mitral."
"No, we've already determined why you left," said Yarbro. "This is an informal
 meeting, nobody knows it is taking place."
"What do you want to know then?"
"Nothing. I have all the information I need for the time being. I have not
come to question you, I have come to make you an offer." Yarbro inhaled the
pure air and continued. "I've come to make a deal with you and the Ketar
people. A partnership."
"What sort of partnership?" asked Kirst Ellan. "What do we get out of it?"
"Protection and safe accommodation," explained Yarbro. "As soon as you have
 completed your half of the deal, I will personally supervise the transport of
your people to Garistia where you will be safe with me. You will be under
military protection."
Ellan thought, but his moment of contemplation produced only the bland
question. "What do we have to do?"
"Hijack a ship. I will accompany you but obviously as a silent partner. The
act must appear to be your own instigation."
"Which ship?"
"The 'Last Hope'. Maiden Voyage. Its mission is to take one passenger to
Mitral and return immediately." He halted for a second. "Whatever happens, the
ship must not reach Mitral."
"Why?" Ellan asked. "What is the point of the voyage - what will this
'passenger' be doing on Mitral?"
"The 'point' is to reverse the process which you yourselves started and were
unable to stop - the build up of the gas and the destruction of your moon.
"And you don't want that to be reversed?"
"No,"
"Why?"
Montigue Yarbro sighed and breathed deeper. His breath hung in the air and
 emphasised the dust cloud with drops of steam.
"Well, Mr. Ellan, there are many faults in Garistia today. There is no room
for improvement or reform, innovation or invention." He continued. "The
problem lies in the system. The framework of our society is very weak, very
vague. We follow a set of laws without question, while criminals like yourself
are exiled, and in this way we turn our back on our problems instead of facing
them.

  16
 

"To progress, the human race needs to tighten the reins, strengthen
the beams, reinforce the ideals. I intend to change all this, to push
us one more step up the ladder, past the broken rung, the missing
stepping stone. Once there, we will be able to improve. This world will
be a better place to live in."
"How do you intend to change all this?" asked ElIan. "The destruction
of one ship won't affect anything."
"Oh yes it will." He coughed. "Garistia is ruled over by a board of
frail old men, as you know - the 'Elders'. Most respect them and you
Ketars despise them of course for your punishment They are opposed to 
change and the citizens are complacent under 
their rule. To progress, Garistia needs a new political system."
"A dictatorship. You wish to be a - dictator?" asked ElIan. "Is that
what you want?"
"No, not exactly. I want a dictatorship true, but I do not
particularly wish to be a dictator." Yarbro said. "When I realised
Mitral was about to explode, I saw my chance. My chance to hold
Garistia to ransom. My demands will be that the board is pulled into 
the streets and executed. A dictator will be appointed immediately," he
paused to catch breath. "I have tried to persuade the people in the
  past that the board is hopeless, that it should be overthrown. All my
  efforts failed. I may have stirred up the dust but I didn't raise
  enough tension. Now I have come to the end of my tether. I have to use
  more violent methods."
"How can you possibly hold the board to ransom?" asked Ellan, "when
  Mitral explodes, it won't destroy Garistia, it'll destroy New-Asia.
  Your people will not be affected in the slightest."
"I know. This is the whole point. Once New-Asia has been obliterated,
 I can then, and only then, hold them to ransom."
He continued.
"You see, the whole of Garistia relies on Rubicon crystals to survive.
  Everything runs on these crystals. Without these, Garistia would grind
  to a halt within hours," he explained. "My plan is to halt the
  production of Rubicon until my demands are met and the board has been
  executed. It will be a simple task. Each mine is enclosed and suitably
  defended. We could, if necessary, manage to hold off a small army."
"But," said Ellen. "You could do that already? The explosion could be
  prevented and you could still have the board overthrown. You don't need
  Mitral to be destroyed."
"Yes, yes I do. You see, these crystals have now been discovered in
  New-Asia. When supplies run out New-Asia will eventually be mined. If
  I close off all the plants, New- Asia will be crawling with mines in a
  week They would not need my crystals. I would have failed."
There was a long thoughtful pause.
Ellen asked, "When do we start? I am sure the rest of the camp will
  agree to your terms"

Yarbro smiled.
"Good, the hijack will take place in two days. Your men will be
  provided with weapons, there is a healthy supply in the craft I came
  in. I will accompany you and five of your men, in the fastest ship you
  have and we will intercept the 'Last Hope'. After boarding, we will
  locate and kill the five-man crew immediately. There will be no problems. 
The trainee we selected for the mission has no experience in
  these matters."
He continued.
 "When the crew are dead, we will head for the stores. Hidden amongst
  the supplies are several boxes of explosives. These will be placed at
  a vital section of the vessel. Maybe the bridge. Maybe the engines
  even. We will set the timers and leave. By nightfall, we will all be in
  Garistia."
   He rose and extended his hand. "I will leave now and return in the
  morning." They shook hands firmly.
   "I'll look forward to your visit," said Ellan.
     
  17
 

(iii) 
The titanic vessel, the 'Bellastania', crawled onward through the vacuum that
existed between Evath's stratosphere and the moon 'Mitral'. Grime and grease
clung obstinately to the battered exterior, refusing to relinquish its
cohesive embrace.
The ship also known as the 'Last Hope' was not a gift to the sight; it was
neither decorative nor sleek. Merely functional. When it returned to the city
Elvira, the Bellastania would be cleaned up, shut down and taken to a hangar
where it would remain indefinitely. It was unlikely that its services would
ever be required again.
The tirst day of the voyage had passed uneventfully. After initial
hostilities, the crew had begun to warm to each other's company. There had been
reservations of friendliness towards Lesleigh, (why should a mere trainee be
signed up to handle a situation as delicate as this?), but the crew had begun
to approach their responsibilities and Lesleigh's competence simultaneously.
Assured that it was safe to engage in normal conversation, Lesleigh had asked
one of the crew, Franc Nailla, to explain the sequence of events that would
precede their approach. His explanation had been meticulous and detailed.
The Bellastania was too bulky to land on Mitral's densely-covered platform
surface. In anticipation, the designers had fitted a shuttle which would take
Lesleigh and the evacuation probe to Mitral and leave them there. The shuttle
was programmed to return and dock with the Bellastania automatically. The
procedure sounded so simple, Lesleigh only hoped that the manoeuvering of the
shuttle was as uncomplicated as Franc had reassured.
The Ketar craft approached the docking station of the larger vessel with
caution, frequent bursts from its twin engines maintaining a safe, parallel
position. Docking computers from both vessels despatched acknowledgement
signals. Communication commenced.
The speed of both vessels began to diminish; they matched and locked.
A necklace of landing lights flickered aboard the larger ship.
On the Ketar ship, the present course was aborted and a fresh one selected.
X-axis engines died. Y-axis engines flared.
Slowly the station woke.
The hijack had begun...
The Bellastania's bridge was empty, devoid of human life. Not that a human
 presence was missed.
 A whirring fan blew a continuous draught; plastic blades rotated silently
behind a metal grille, creating a tunnel of air that curled the sheets of a
note pad that was open on the worksurface. A light strip hung from the ceiling
to illuminate the abandoned room.
A tiny red rectangle winked; organic life had returned. With a jolt, the exit-
hatch rose and Nailla padded inside. He jogged to his station and dropped
heavily into a stiff chair backed with the skin of an anonymous beast. He
surveyed the hulking banks of silent screens and dormant consoles with
professional interest, threw a switch and lay back, a worried look decorating
his face.
His eyes flicked to a display above his head. He had been in the canteen
enjoying a drink with two fellow crew members when they had heard the noise...
An echoing metallic thud followed by several harsh crashes. It was,
unmistakably, the sound of the exterior hatch opening. There were only two
options available. Both were slightly unlikely but, unfortunately, one of them
had to be correct.
The first... Someone may have been trying to get out. Very dubious as the
shuttle was mounted over the bridge in its own, private dock. Or someone may
have been trying to get in...
Nailla had reluctantly suspected the latter, and now, scrutinising the complex
 docking-display his suspicions were confirmed.
The crew congregated on the bridge. Thea Kell still had a drink in her hands.
She placed it on the desk without taking another sip.

  18
 


  Ede Slaye had been repairing a loose ceiling tile in the stores
when he'd heard the commotion. Rushing back to the bridge, he
collided with Pete Watels. By the time they had reached the bridge,
Lesleigh, Kell and Nailla were already there.
     Nailla swiftly entered a command into a grey keypad and paused to
think. He resumed typing and the sound of the clattering keys
rattled both the silence and others' nerves.
       Slaye dug a hand into his pocket for a cigarette but found it
empty. He considered asking the others, opened his lips, but
reconsidered and closed his mouth again.
Thea Kell strode around the console to her station. "What's in the
dock?" she asked, settling herself in the chair. The vinyl covering
was ice-cold.
"A law ship? Maybe it's a check up," mumbled Slaye, "Have you
tried contacting them?"
Nailla forced aweak smile, "I think it's very unlikely. I've
despatched warning signals, the usual sort of stuff, and they
haven't responded. There's been no attempt to follow normal docking
procedure."
"If they're in, the dockcom must have recognised them. They must
have communi- cated somehow to gain access," suggested Lesleigh.
"They could have burned their way through I suppose," said Nailla,
"maybe even lasered the lock." He checked the console before him
with displeasure. "But we have no damage report to substantiate
a forced entry." He continued, "I think we'll be lucky if they turn
out to be friendly."
The bridge fell silent. The banging from below had momentarily
ceased. Lesleigh glanced at Watels.
"What sort of weaponry have we aboard."
The engineer shrugged.
"No firearms, nothing like that. We're not allowed to carry them
in case someone puts a hole through the hull."
Slaye glanced at Lesleigh.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because we may need some form of defence. I mean, they're
obviously Ketars, aren't they. Nobody in Garistia is going to
complain if we knock off a few Ketars if it will prevent the
explosion. This mission is too important to be ruined by a few
petty criminals."
"If it is Ketars, how did they get in? They haven't the
technology," asked Slaye.
"I can't answer that one.", replied Lesleigh, "But It must be
Ketars, it has to he. Mr Yarbro told me that any ship leaving
Garistia twenty four hours before or after the 'Bellastania' left
port, would be shot down. The ship must have come from lotania."
"But why hijack us?" asked Thea. "I can't understand why they'd
want to. We carry no cargo. nothing valuable anyway."
"Maybe they think we're carrying something important," said
Lesleigh, "They obviously don't realise why we're going to
Mitral." Slaye smoothed his hair back, "What do we do then? Any
ideas?"
"Yep," said Thea, "I have an idea. And we wouldn't even have to go
anywhere near them. If it didn't kill them it would at least drive
them back into their ship."
"What is it then?" asked Slaye.
"Well we bleed air you see," explained Thea. "This ship has the
right facilities for bleeding. It's a simple process, all we do is
leak it into canisters and store them until we're reassured they're
all dead. We then reconnect the canisters and pump it back in."
"What do we do in the meantime?" asked Lesleigh, "Where can we go?"
"Two choices." interrupted Slaye, "We could, if necessary, hide in the
shuttle. It has an adequate air supply. Or, alternatively, we could put
suits on and use up the bottled air."
"Alright then," said Lesleigh, "How do we bleed the air?" 
Thea said "I'll do it, I've handled it on other vessels before. It's
sometimes used to 

  19
 
     
locate leaks or fractures in the hull."
"Right then.", said Lesleigh, "Watels, you go and get five suits from the
lock. Make sure they're all working, no punctures or anything. Then get five
bottles and clean the valves. Also check that they're full. If not, top them
up. Right?"
"Right"
Lesleigh continued, "Slaye and NailIa you go and open the valves. I'll go
and fetch the canisters and carry them up to you. Okay?"
NailIa nodded in agreement, "Okay."
They began to file from the bridge.
They clattered down access corridor #3. Alongside their shadowy figures,
oily pipes, steaming tubes and clumps of multi-coloured wires snaked into
semi-darkness. The walls were encrusted with plates and riddled with rust.
Nailla stooped beneath a metal outcrop and drew himself into the recess. He
 reached for the hatch control.
A rectangle of red pierced the darkness as the entrance-hatch rose. Without
a sound it lifted into the roof and gave a satisfying click to signify that
it was locked in place. Assured that it would not drop as they passed
underneath, they bustled inside and Slaye turned to seal them off.

The heat was overpowering as they entered. Steam rose from the thousands of 
scalding pipes that clung to the walls. A burst of searing steam escaped
spasmodically from a ruptured tube and flooded the scorching chamber as the
water condensed.
Nailla paused to regain his breath and composure, wiping the perspiration
from his brow. "Over there," he gestured at a thin metal slab that lay at the
far end of the chamber, shrouded in artificial mist. "That's where you get to
the stores," he said, "down the walkway, across the corridor. They're in the
next room."
"Right," said Lesleigh as he stumbled towards the hatch, "make sure you
loosen all those valves for when I get back. I won't be long."
Acting upon his advice, Nailla reached for the first wheel and attempted to
twist it. Even an application of a second hand was no more productive. "This
one's jammed," he murmured to himself moving on to its neighbour. After an
initial tug, the second wheel began to spin. He caught it before the valve
could snap open and release a spout of scalding fluid. He moved on to the
third and repeated the procedure.
Thea Kell closed the hatch after her and walked into the room, surveying the
rows of valves, dials and monitors within. She seated herself in an unpadded
chair and began to close switches and activate monitors with the ease of
someone skilled in the operation of this kind of machinery. Yet she had only
performed the operation twice before and neither time had it been under such
pressure or strain of urgency.
Her fingers darted over the keyboard, changing the steady flow of recycled
water into a steady tide of pure, clean air. She altered the air-conditioning
from exhale to inhale mode and leant back to wait
Pete Watels flinched as the oxygen bottle slipped from his shaking fingers
and clattered off the grate, rolling from his exhausted figure. He stooped to
retrieve it and lugged it over to where four similar bottles rested against
the wall of the store. After a short rest, he approached a glass-fronted
locker, one of several that lined the opposite wall. His attempts to determine
the contents by simply peering through the murky glass were not fruitful. He
resorted to more dangerous methods.
Holding his breath, Watels wrenched the hatch wide, the customary squeal
ripping through the corridors and access walkways, a rack of plastic bundles
stared out at him; a few hung loosely on their wire hangers. Recognition was
immediate and a weak smile sprung to his lips. Pressure suits. He reached up
and tugged the first bundle free and tossed it to the floor. Wiping his hands
on his trousers, he reached for the second.
       With a grin, Lauder unslung the rifle from his shoulder. The three short
bursts of gunfire rang loud and clear throughout the vessel.
Lesleigh gripped a handrail and descended the framework staircase, cautious
not to slip in suspect pools that had gathered on the steps.

  20
 

 Dim light filtered in from above, reflecting faintly off tarnished rails
and unpolished grates. Decaying wooden crates were stacked high to the
ceiling; several had toppled and half-spilled their contents.
Lesleigh reached the foot of the staircase and kicked a stray can of
tomatoes over the balcony before proceeding, jogging past the vast piles of
supplies that littered the expansive store. One hand reached for the hatch-control 
as its owner glanced behind, wary of lurking shadows.
Kirst Ellan peered around the bend in access-corridor #15 for any
indication of life, either hostile or friendly. His eyes probed the passage
but nothing stirred. Nothing fled. Nothing sprang.
Sighing he turned the corner, his confidence relying on the rifle he
clutched feverishly in both hands. Behind, Wilson and Morton were chatting
amiably, their redundant rifles slung over their shoulders.
Ellan relaxed just a moment too soon.
The hatch immediately before him rose smoothly and settled in the
ceiling.
His heart skipped a beat.
A figure stepped into the light and then was gone, engulfed by the
fleeting shadows.
His finger automatically locked onto the trigger. Pressure was applied.
The barrel rocked twice, spitting minute flashes of light into the chill air.
Two smoking holes blew in the metal of the hatch. Light from the chamber
beyond filtered through the blackened pores.
Without thinking Ellan sprinted down the corridor, booted feet pounding
off oily grates. To one side of him, an exit-hatch was just descending.
Lesleigh scrambled frantically into the dingy store and leapt immediately
for the crates, feet crunching off the first as the ex-trainee hauled
upwards, fingers digging into the wood, feet kicking at the reinforcers.
Crates crashed from the top of the stack and exploded messily on the grates
far below, as Lesleigh struggled upwards.
Kirst Ellan entered the store and caught sight of the rapidly
disappearing figure.
He snapped the rifle into the air.
Smoking splinters erupted as the barrel bolted twice. Slivers of wood and
clouds of sawdust pursued Lesleigh down the opposite side of the stack.
ElIan lowered the barrel and fired three wild bursts into the ungainly
sprawl of crates before glancing behind.
       Wilson and Morton ran into the store, both unhooking their rifles.
"Who is it?" asked Morton.
"Skerrit, I think," replied Kirst. "You go round that side and take a look
I'll watch the hatch." He fired two more bursts into the pile before the
rifle registered empty with a loud and distinctive click. He allowed his
finger to slacken and defiantly squeezed the trigger once more before
tossing the rifle down in disgust.
Wilson stepped around the stack cautiously, his weapon held in front of
him. He pulled himself parallel to the adjacent passage and slid his finger
over the trigger. The barrel lerked twice.
Lesleigh's fist caught him heavily in the stomach and he doubled up, air
whooshing from his lungs.
Morton automatically drew the rifle from his shoulder. His finger snapped
over the trigger.
Fingers wrapped around Wilson's hair and jerked him roughly into the
shadow of the stack Unhooking the rifle from his grip, Lesleigh snatched it
up and wrapped a finger around the trigger, turning to peer round the corner.
The barrel of Morton's rifle jolted and flared. A multitude of charred,
smoking rings appeared in the crate nearest to Lesleigh's head. Sawdust
choked the alleyway.
Ellen appeared behind Lesleigh, his figure half-obscured by the dry
clouds of sawdust. In his left hand he carried a chain, the links wide and
far apart.
It whipped over LesIeigh's head and snapped taut. ElIan immediately
dragged both ends together, twisting the links with his fists. Choking,
Lesleigh reached for the chain 

  21
 
       
and locked two fingers between metal and skin.
Morton appeared at the entrance to the alleyway, the stubby rifle held in
one hand. Lesleigh's foot snatched it from his grip, sending it clattering
to the ground elsewhere.
Lesleigh dropped heavily to bruised and aching knees, vision misting
over. Ellan released the chain as he crashed over his victim's back to
smack onto the dusty grates. The chain spun from his hand and rolled out of
sight.
Lesleigh bent to retrieve the rifle, fingers groping for the strap.
Morton appeared in the entrance and lashed out, sending Lesleigh flying,
the strap jerking from shaking fingers.
"Get the gun" he snapped.
Lesleigh was up on two feet in seconds, supported weakly by the musty
crates. Limbs ached, head ached, neck ached.
Ellan crawled for the rifle, fingers curled slowly around the barrel.
Morton threw Lesleigh a punch and responded by dragging the ex-trainee
into the open. The glass screen which overlooked the steaming water tanks
stared back at him. Light filtered through the steam-covered plate.
Ellan grabbed the rifle and rose, verifying the gauge. He began to turn.
Lesleigh elbowed Morton in the stomach and lashed out at Ellan, catching
him in the stomach. The Ketar gasped, folding over, the rifle hanging limp
from his grasp.
Lesleigh lashed out again.
The Ketar exploded messily through the glass, a lethal shower of silvery
shards erupting into the steamy air.
Ellan just caught sight of the churning tanks, felt the heat on his skin,
before he began to fall.
Morton knelt and snapped a knife from his sock, wielding it, he rushed.
Lesleigh swiftly surveyed the grates for a weapon.
Nothing. Nothing at all.
Dodging the knife, Lesleigh crashed awkwardly against the wall, barely
missing the gaping hole in the glass.
Something hissed.
Morton stooped, stumbled and snatched the knife from the grates.
Lesleigh glanced at the wall which his exhausted figure had smashed
against. The 'Emergency Landing' case had sprung open. Interior lights had
begun to flicker. Inside hung a motionless row of ten red and yellow
striped flares.
Morton rushed again. Thinking quickly, a hand reached for the first flare
and wrenched it from its protective clip. A finger clicked over the trigger.
Morton slowed, frowned.
The barrel rocked.
The flare whooshed, coughing a trail of dense, purple smoke in its wake.
The charge hit Morton full in the chest, the dull explosion sending the
knife wheeling from his grip. He staggered against the crates and then
dropped heavily, purple smoke pouring from his charred and blackened chest.
Lesleigh allowed the flare to fall before leaning against the metal,
gasping for breath.
Lauder released the limp body of Thea and allowed it to slump to the
grates. He reslung his rifle and vacated the chamber. closing the hatch
behind him.
Lesleigh hurried across the floor of the store and towards the staircase.
Without pausing for breath, the ex-trainee began to ascend, leaping the
steps two at a time.
A shadow passed over the hatch.
The harsh crackle of gunfire rang throughout the vessel.
Lesleigh halted and stared at the hatch, gasping for breath. NailIa,
Slaye? Dead? Maybe even Thea and Watels...
At the foot of the staircase, Wilson moved into the light. In one hand he
held a knife, he grinned a toothless grin.
Lesleigh glanced at the leering figure and then back up at the hatch. A
 pair of legs, 

  22
 

      fell from the hole as a figure began to ease itself onto the walkway.
One hand locked onto the rail, one foot gripped the bar. Lesleigh
strained and raised an aching leg onto the metal.
       Wilson watched as the shadowy figure vaulted the gap to crash heavily
  onto the top of the stack.
Lauder dropped from the hatch, unhooked his rifle. Automatically he
  opened fire, raking the crumbling crates with charred, smoking holes.
Lesleigh fell to the floor in a shower of dust and blackened wood.
  After lying still for a moment, the figure rose and peered around the corner. 
Eyes settling on
  one particular crate. On one particular side. On one particular logo.
The skull and crossbones.      Yarbro fell from the hatch and, regaining his senses, forced the
  barrel of Lauder's rifle away from the stack.
"Don't shoot," he snapped, "Not in the stores."
Lesleigh reached for the crate, fingers groping for the seal...
  Lauder saw the hand and snatched the barrel from Yarbro's restraining
  grip. It jolted once, twice.
Two holes blew in the wood. Two wisps of smoke floated from the holes.
Lesleigh backed off, into the shelter of the stack. The crate began
  to smoke, its brittle, wooden surface steaming then rapidly darkening.
Lauders boots echoed off the steps as he descended the stairs, the
  stocky rifle clutched in sweaty hands.
Something flitted into view.
The rifle bolted, punching a steaming hole into the metal of the
  hatch. Lesleigh elbowed the bemused Wilson out of the way and slid into
  it, fingers reaching for the control.
The hatch began to rise.
The wood hissed loudly, tiny flames licking the deadly interior. With
  a gasp, the crate erupted into radiant light, flames shooting upwards
  and outwards. Large plates of burning wood screamed across the store
  and exploded off cold metal.
The hatch clicked back into the floor.
Yarbro shouted something inaudible to Lauder and began to haul himself
  back into the boiler-room.
   Lesleigh reached the bridge as the first of several minor explosions
rocked the Bellastania. Approaching the console, Lesleigh sank into a
chair and stabbed at buttons and switches. Readings and distances were
checked and verified. Then Lesleigh rose and braced against the console.
The bridge tilted unsteadily and very slowly began to right itself.
Lesleigh stumbled towards the shuttle, out of breath.
      One finger hit the control and the hatch went up; Lesleigh ducked
  beneath. Lesleigh scrambled past the 'Emergency Hatch' and dropped
  hurriedly into another chair, before activating the keypad with
  surprising accuracy.
Yarbro hauled himself up the swaying corridor as a series of powerful
  explosions shook the craft and its contents. He fought to reach the
  bridge amongst an avalanche of debris.
       With a hiss of engines, the shuttle discharged from the dock. Rockets
  fired once, twice, pulling the sleek vessel from the less impressive
  Bellastania.
The docking-station crumpled in on itself, bursts of flame from the
  wreck silent in the void.
The bridge exploded equally soundlessly. Only seconds later the
  remainder of the vessel followed. Sheets of fiery metal tore into
  oblivion; beams, shattered ribs and ripped grating separated silently.
Unperturbed, the tiny shuttle streaked towards its destination,
  leaving a graveyard of smoking wreckage in its wake.
It took Lesleigh only forty seven minutes to reach Mitral. The
  procedure of landing a shuttle is often fraught with difficulties, but
  Lesleigh had none, setting down on one of the flat platforms, a man-made 
plateau.
Lesleigh checked the excavation probe and the pod it contained for
  damage, but there was none apparent.
The main task was just beginning....

  23
 


YOUR MISSION
  
Evath has two moons, Mitral and Tricuspid. Mitral has been heavily mined by an 
outlawed people, the Ketars, who have now fled the moon. A vast amount of gas has 
built up underneath Mitral's surface, and should Mitral explode, thousands of 
Evathians will be wiped out as Evath is thrown out of orbit. The resulting freeze will 
wipe out your planet's entire population! Scientists have calculated a meteor is due to 
strike Mitral in a matter of hours and this alone will cause this disaster.
Your Overall Mission is to make safe each of the 18 sectors of Mitral by positioning a 
drilling rig over the gas pockets in each sector before the meteor strikes.
In order to achieve this you will need to:-

Gain access to and enter each of the 18 sectors. 
Determine the gas centre and place the drilling rig on each sector to release at 
least 50% of the gas below. (Use geological clues, intuition or trial and error for this). 
Locate and absorb sufficient Rubicon crystals for your continuing survival. 
Avoid and/or destroy the laser beacons, and Skanners.

As a sub mission : Amass a high a success rating as possible!
You have just landed on one of Mitral's artificial surfaces. You are within your 
excavation probe. The whole world depends on you...you have been chosen...it's up 
to you...

  24
