'There's a sight you'll not often see…'
His father's words broke through Alex's silent, concentrated study of the planet they were leaving. To the right, running a parallel course towards the Faraway tunnel, was an odd-shaped ship, with poweful lights flickering on and off. It was catching the sun and Alex could see how it was slowly spinning about its central axis. Fish-like fins opened and closed. Across its sleek hull a rapid pattern of coloured lights rippled.
A Moray. A subaqua vessel, designed for both space and undersea voyaging.
The Moray was a rare ship indeed to see in space, especially about to undertake a hyperspace transit. On worlds like Regiti and Aona, where the only land was the tips of volcanoes, rising al oceans, the Moray was both freighter and public transport, a vital ship-link between the undersea cities that were developing in such hostile environments. The Moray's frantic colour signalling ceased. Alex noticed that his father was watching the animalistic display (the coding had been developed from the signalling of a terrestrial aquatic creature, the squid) with a frown on his face.
'Something up?'Jason shrugged. 'Not sure. Probably not.' Alex watched the Moray with renewed interest, then turned back to the rear view, where the Cobra had nudged a few kilometres closer.
'Shall we warn him to stay back?' Jason shook his head. For the first time Alex realised that his father had been as aware of the trader as he, and had been studying it curiously for some minutes. There was a tension on the Avalonia's bridge that was unusual, and unpleasant. Something wasn't right. Alex had no idea what, but he sensed it powerfully.
Something was not going according to routine.
Then the go-signal for entry to the Faraway tunnel flashed on, accompanied by a gentle audio prompt.
And as it did so, the Avalonia's life expectancy had shrunk to just nine minutes.
Around the entry point to Witch-Space is always to be found the biggest cluster of transit vessels, most of them moored in groups at orbital buoys while mechanics and repairmen crawl over them, checking and servicing their external systems. At such a point in any advanced system like Lave you'll see every ship of the line, every type, subtype and artificially mocked-up version of every snake-ship ever built. As they approached the jump, Alex practised ship identification, a crucial talent in any space-faring profession. The unarmed, unmanned orbit shuttles were easy enough to spot, as they ferried cargo all around the system. He noticed two Asps, Navy ships, small, manouevrable and deadly, well protected against attack, and with highly advanced military weapons systems. He also saw a single Krait, the so-called StarStriker, a small, one-man ship much favoured by pathfinders and mercenaries. To his right, space-docked and still unloading her passengers, was the immense, cylindrical mass of an Anaconda, a massive freighter that had been adapted to passenger transport. It was an ugly ship, and its yawning ram-scoop gave it the appearance of being a squat, blind creature with its mouth disgustingly agape.
The catalogue was endless. Boa class cruisers; Pythons; the bounty hunters' favourite, the Fer-de-lance, packed out with weapons, and no doubt decked out inside like a palace; landing craft called Worms; Mambas; Sidewinders…large craft and small, all winking brightly and reflecting sunlight in brilliant blue-grey sheens. And of course, there were advertising Droidships, their catchy light displays blinking out information about ROHAN'S REAL EARTH ALE WITH HONEY, or KETTLE'S CLONE-YOUR-OWN FUNGAL CURES. Or even offering the 'last real food before Witch-Space', small restaurant ships designed to dock and supply instant nourishment (PRIEST'S PERFECT PROTOPOLYPS, TUTTLE'S TASTY THERAPSABLADDERS) to space-weary travelers.'Here we go…Hang on to your seat…' Jason Ryder always said this, and Alex always fell for it. He tensed up as if the ship was about to plunge over a gravity-roller. In fact, the entry to Witch-Space was accompanied by an almost negligible accelerative surge, a moment's dizziness, and then the spectacular sight of the stars brightening, spreading out and suddenly streaking in multi-coloured circular patterns, so that the ship seemed to be passing down a spinning tube. Almost as soon as the surge of acceleration had come it had gone. The ship drifted in 'Witch Light', in the non-place in space and time. It was crossing the void between stars in seconds, but for those seconds it was in a twilight world whose existence was beyond imagination.
They say that Witch-Space is haunted. Maybe that's why they call it
'witch'. Time turns all around, and atoms turn inside out, and gravity waves billow up, and things move there, lifeforms, or shadows, or atoms, or galaxies, who knows? No-one has ever stopped and gone outside to find out. Only robot remotes exist there, switching stations, monitors, rescue Droids and the like. Whatever lives in Witch-Space, in the Faraway tunnels, will remain a mystery always.
But there are ghosts there. The ghosts of the early ships that went in to Faraway, and didn't come out again.
Ghosts…
And shadows.
The shadow of a snake. A Cobra… Rising over them…
'What in God's name…?'
Jason Ryder had gone whiter than white light.
Trapped in Witch-Space, there was nothing he could do to outmanoeuvre the other vessel. Alex said, 'He doesn't know the rules. Perhaps it's a rookie pilot—'
'Perhaps,' his father said. Jason Ryder's eyes never left the scanners.
His face had beaded with sweat. Alex watched the shadow of the Cobra…
Well-equipped… a fuel-scoop, missile silos, extra cargo holds, the squat dome of an energy bomb housing…a rich ship indeed and a deadly one.
'They can't be intending to attack us.'
'The hell they can't!'
Three minutes…
And they came out of Witch-Space!
Immediately, Jason's hands began to fly over the key console. The Avalonia surged forward, rotating on its long axis. The planet Leesti was a small, greenish disc in the far distance. Alex saw his father arm the two missiles that the Avalonia carried, then reached to rest his hand on the multiple laser-trigger.
It was a pirate, then. And as Alex came to accept the inevitability of combat, his mouth went dry and his mind sharpened. He had never been in combat before, not for real, only in the SimTrainer. He had heard his father talk about it, of course. And combat did not sound glorious…
A pirate ship, disguised as a trader, pursuing its victim into Witch-Space itself…for their cargo of…
Thrumpberry flavouring?
An uneasy voice whispered in Alex's mind. This was untypical behaviour for a freebooter. They normally waited at the edge of planetary systems, watching for their prey with long-distance scanners, picking and choosing carefully. Pirates could be found everywhere, of course, though rarely in space around Corporate State worlds, or Democracies (the police were too efficient). Planets run by anarchistic or feudal governments were a pirate's favourite haunt.
This behaviour was wrong…
Not a pirate.
Alex looked from the slowly rotating planet to the grim, grey features of his father. They were a long way from safety. 'What the hell are we up against?'
'Put on a RemLok and get to the escape pod, 'Jason Ryder murmured.'Do it!'
'I'll stay and fight '
'The hell you will. Do as I say.' As he spoke, Jason thrust a small, black face-mask — the remote-space locator — at his son.
The first missiles struck the Avalonia's shields, and Jason punched the launch buttons on his own defences. The small ship veered and strained as he looped it in an escape run, activating its ECM as the Cobra launched a second wave of missiles.The rear screen exploded with light…
But through the brightness the sombre grey shape of the killer came on…
It happened so fast, then, that afterwards Alex was uncertain as to what exactly had happened. The duelling ships span and circled in towards the planet. Space around them blazed silently as their weapons struck and were deflected.
Then the whole Universe rocked. Air screeched into the void. The lights in the Avalonia blinked and dimmed. Warning lights shot on across the console: lazer temperature in the red, screens down, energy low, cargo jettisoned, cabin temperature dropping…
In the same moment of the Avalonia's death, Alex Ryder found himself being struck by his father, the remlok mask forced into place about his eyes, nose and mouth. Then his whole body was physically manhandled into the escape pod.
The ship shuddered and screamed. Fuel spilled into the void.
Father and son faced each other for a last moment, each watching the other through a mist of tears and confusion.
'I don't understand…' Alex screamed above the noise of the dying ship, meaning: Who's trying to kill us?
'Raxxla!' Jason said. 'Remember: Raxxla!' Then, as he pushed Alex back into the cramped escape pod, he shouted, 'Remember me, Alex! I wouldn't have wished this on you. Raxxla!'
The escape pod was jettisoned. Alex tumbled. The sleek shape of the Avalonia was above him, and then just white light-White heat.
Cold space!