Chapter 10

A Rough Ride

‘OW! YOUR SWORD hilt is sticking in my side!’

‘Sorry,’ whispered Rake. He shifted his body awkwardly in an attempt to give Snow a bit more room. But it was impossible to find any extra space – the inside of the shuttle’s undercarriage housing was painfully cramped. It was pitch-black too. There were definitely more pleasant ways to travel.

It had been Salt’s idea that they stow away like this. He had discovered that a news crew from PerfectVision – the Corporation’s official media group – was being sent out to report on the Epsilon ‘catastrophe’. Their shuttle was being readied for departure from PerfectVision’s city headquarters. There was just enough time for Rake and Snow to sneak the few blocks from the Academy to the media building and secretly hitch a lift.

They had climbed the shuttle’s right rear landing-foot and hidden in its housing. When the landing gear had been raised after take-off, it had proved quite a squash.

Even so, Rake had to admit there was no other way they could have reached their target destination – the containment field generator – so quickly.

Snow let out another groan as their hiding place juddered violently yet again. ‘This is the last time I fly PerfectVision!’ she hissed. ‘Do you think we’re nearly there?’

‘Must be by now. In fact, it feels like we’re coming down, doesn’t it?’

Sure enough, there was a sudden pneumatic hiss. Light flooded the compartment as the undercarriage doors below them split apart.

Rake and Snow flattened themselves against the shuttle’s internal frame and clung on. With the whir of powerful servos, the hefty landing-foot beside them slowly swung down and locked in position.

Through the open hatch, the children could see the ground approaching fast. There was a roar of engine noise and a rush of warm updraught as the landing thrusters kicked in.

‘As soon as we touch, get clear!’ yelled Rake over the din. Snow nodded.

The giant metal foot whumped down, absorbing the impact as the shuttle settled on the dusty ground. Rake and Snow dropped silently from their hiding place. They landed lightly and scurried away beneath the craft’s belly, towards its rear.

The shuttle had put down not far from a cluster of fuel dumps. A quick dash brought the two cadets to the nearest. They ducked behind a stack of fuel cells. From the safety of their hiding place, they scanned their surroundings.

Less than half a kilometre to the west, the Peace Keep rose up from the lifeless landscape. The area around it was a hive of military activity. Rake could make out as many as twenty White Knight troop carriers. In the far distance, beyond the fortress, they could see an arching wall of luminous green light. It rose skyward, curving back and to both sides to form a vast dome of fizzing energy.

An opening appeared in the side of the PerfectVision shuttle. A ramp extended smoothly from it. Rake and Snow watched as the team of reporters and technicians headed down it, lugging their equipment.

‘The Chairman will have hand-picked his own tame journalists, of course,’ said Snow. ‘And PerfectVision will no doubt be the only media organization allowed anywhere near. That way the Corporation will have complete control over any broadcast.’

‘Uh-huh,’ agreed Rake. ‘With the right camera shots, and some clever editing, they’ll be able to put together whatever angle the Chairman tells them to. He’ll make sure the public sees something that backs up his phoney disaster story.’

A hover barge carrying three White Knights came skimming up to the shuttle crew. After a brief exchange of words, the PerfectVision crew boarded the vehicle. It zoomed away towards the base of the energy dome.

‘Never mind – they’re not our problem,’ continued Rake. He turned to look due north. About a hundred metres away, a squat grey cubic structure the size of a large building sat on a colossal crawler platform. Its upper surface was covered with groups of white dish antennae, like clumps of strange mushrooms.

Rake dropped his helmet’s zoom visor into place and slowly scanned the peculiar construction.

‘That’s the field generator all right,’ he said. ‘And I think I can see our way in – a ventilation outlet about two-thirds of the way up its near side. Our only problem is him . . .’

Even with unassisted vision, Snow could see the man – a human, not a White Knight. He was standing with his back to them in front of the generator’s massive, caterpillar-tracked base.

‘Looks like he’s servicing the crawler platform,’ reported Rake. ‘There’s no chance of us getting in unnoticed with him there. Any ideas?’

He turned to consult Snow – and found her with one hand laid across her breastplate, covering her medallion. Her eyes had a slightly glazed look. A moment later her expression cleared and she let her hand drop.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘He’s nearly done. He’s about to move on to the opposite face.’

Rake gave her a bemused look, then looked back at the technician. Through his zoom lenses, he watched the man replace a laser-spanner in his tool belt, then move off, heading around the front of the crawler towards its other side.

Rake turned back to Snow, frowning. ‘How did you . . .?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Snow, a little self-consciously. ‘I just had a feeling that was what he was thinking. Come on!’

And without saying any more, she sprinted away towards the field generator, keeping low.

Rake set off after her, still unsure quite what had just happened.