Overdrive (19 page)

Unknown to
Metatron, or in fact the crew of the massive Battle Cruiser gliding along next
to them, Tynan had organized some outside help. Promising them a copy of the
Overdrive data for their assistance – a promise he had no intention of honoring,
they would meet him at what appeared to be the
Debacherous Weekend’s
eventual destination – Fever.

It was simple
really. Grab Felix, dispose of his would be allies, get back to Arabot and then
pleasure upon pleasure, become an Angel. A shiver ran down Tynan’s back at such
a delicious thought.

Simbiel had been a
fool, hence the reason he was now a rapidly cooling body on the Hedonist ship.
Tynan fancied himself as being somewhat better prepared than his late master.
He stroked the large cannon lying in his lap. Simbiel’s private armory aboard
the ship contained a number of surprises, including an impressive array of
illegal weaponry. Next time he came up against the Watchers, it would be on
more or less equal terms.

With a smile,
Tynan continued to stroke his Afer cannon.

◊

Asel gathered
himself up off the deck of his ship.  His pride slightly battered after being
seen in an undignified position, he took in the scene on the command bridge.

None of his
officers seemed to have noticed, being too busy bleeding, burning and getting
sucked out into Nospace. The explosion that had destroyed the Martian ship had
punctured the Watcher Trireme in a number of places – including breaching the
hull on the bridge. Asel watched as the fields came on, sealing the gaping hole
in the hull with a blue glow.

Like the rest of
his crew, Asel had been caught unawares by the explosion, so intent was he on
the chase.  Off-guard, Asel had been unable to erect even his own field before
being knocked off his feet. The rest of crew had suffered far more. He could
see two of his crew still trying to put fires out – one of the fires proving
quite difficult considering it was human and still running about screaming.
Asel put the flammable officer out of his misery by flinging a bolt of pure
energy at him. The figure dropped immediately and lay prone and silent on the
deck. The rest of the crew, responding to Asel demonstration of control settled
down and waited quietly for orders.

“What’s the
verdict?," he enquired of his Captain.

“Five hull
breaches, starboard ion drive damaged, 6 fatalities, Lord," replied the
nervous officer.

“Are we capable of
giving chase?”

“Yes Lord.” The
Captain hesitated, unwilling to be the bearer of bad news. “Our velocity
through Nospace, however, will be substantially reduced. We have already begun
to repair the damage though and have already ascertained the eventual destination of the
Debacherous Weekend
, given its current heading .”

Asel nodded
thoughtfully. “Captain?”

“Yes, Lord?”

“Why weren’t our
fields erected upon nearing the Martian ship?”

“I didn’t consider
the Martian ship to be a threat Lord.”

“Yeah, well. I
wonder if you’d consider my foot up your arse a threat?," he bellowed at
the shaking man.

 The Captains
bottom lip began to wobble nervously. His point made, Asel turned his back on
the Captain and levitating, flew back to his command seat.

“I hope you
understand Captain. If we should be caught unawares again, I’ll use your head
to fill the hull breach. Understood?”

“Perfectly Lord,"
replied the quivering Captain.

“Good. Shall we
get on then?”

Chapter Six

Upon its discovery
in the year 2373, the Raquin system would have been written off but for a
couple of strange quirks. Its sun, Zola, like Earth’s sun, Sol, was a type G2,
composed mostly of hydrogen, helium, calcium and iron. That wasn’t all. Zola
was almost exactly the same size as Sol. By itself, this still wasn’t unusual
as Sol was a fairly typical sun. What was unusual is that it only had one
planet in orbit and this planet matched the dimensions, appearance and orbiting
distance of Jupiter. To find an Earth type sun – not unusual. To find a sun
that could have had Jupiter’s twin orbiting around it – now that was.

Teams of
scientists arrived to investigate this strange coincidence. After months of
painstaking research and deliberation, the scientists came to the riveting
conclusion that yes, this gas giant was in fact identical to Jupiter and in a
stroke of sheer brilliance named it New Jupiter. Two days later they
inadvertently discovered what the second quirk was. Once a year, Zola would go
semi-Nova. This phenomenon had been observed before in other stars. A semi-Nova
was more than a Solar flare in that the whole star would consistently flare up,
reaching almost to the point where it almost enveloped  the outer atmosphere of
New Jupiter. Unfortunately, the scientist’s base camp had been set up on the
only asteroid orbiting New Jupiter – a hunk of rock 50km in diameter and
orbiting some 45,000kms above the gas giant.

Twenty six
scientists, fifteen support crew, six assorted technicians and one mascot (Fred
– a Scotch Terrier), were instantly fried as the Nova burst expanded around
them. The team sent to investigate their silence discovered their personal logs
and research material 5 meters down where they had seen fit, more by good luck
than good management, to house their camp AI. No other evidence of their eight
month occupation was found.

The incidence was
hushed up while quietly, Universities started increasing the size of their
research grants and endowments to those undertaking studies of newly discovered
systems. Those who had heard of the incident and were working in the same field
refused to do any more research without danger pay and comprehensive life
insurance.

Some three hundred
years later, a retro disco junkie, ironically named Andy Gibb, discovered the
research material and set about turning his dream into reality. Andy’s dream
was that he wanted to convert a asteroid into a giant disco ball. Sadly, the
ludicrous amount of money required for such a ludicrous undertaking, was, quite
frankly, ludicrous.

Andy had many
supporters – that certainly wasn’t a problem as retro disco junkies numbered in
their hundreds of thousands – it was backers with cash he needed. Fortunately
for Andy, his discovery of the Raquin system research enabled him to combine
practicality with his vision. Investors, sensing a new hot tourist spot,
started pouring the money towards Andy in what would become a literal
waterfall.

Advances in
material science now enabled new composites to withstand, absorb, and even
reflect up to and including the temperatures generated by a nova burst. The
asteroid orbiting New Jupiter, by now named Fever, had its 50km diameter slowly
covered in reflective panels designed to withstand anything the star could
throw at them. Some of the panels were designed to absorb and store the once
yearly energy output – thus effectively nullifying the running costs. Combined
with powerful fields the asteroid was deemed to be invulnerable to the forces
of the universe.

Despite using huge
autonomous AI controlled construction vehicles, Andy’s dream was only realized
after a further 12 years. The result was, to Andy and his multitudinous
supporters, well worth it - a huge disco ball hanging in space.

Fever was an
immediate success. Disco Junkies came from hundreds of light years away just to
experience something from hundreds of years ago. The best time to arrive
coincided with the once yearly nova burst. Viewed from a safe and prudent
distance in space, Fever would reflect the light with its myriad panels,
creating not only the illusion of a disco ball but putting on an impressive
display for those fortunate (and stupid) enough to bear witness to it. Sadly,
star ships weren’t built quite as robustly as Fever. In the two hundred odd
years since the completion of the asteroid, some one hundred and forty odd
souls had been lost whilst oohing and aahing at the spectacle.

With the nova
burst only two days away, The
Debacherous Weekend’s
arrival coincided
with Fever’s busiest time. The docking bay and immigration area was crowded
with new arrivals, all completely, or partially in costume. Even the security
guards were dressed in matching disco garb.

Although
supporting a relatively large population of security personal, there was only
one rule that was thoroughly enforced. Visitors and residents alike had to
dress appropriately.

“What’s this?,"
said Felix bemusedly holding the black wig in his hand.

“Its an Afro
stupid," replied Tarquin, slipping a wig over his bald pate. 

“And I’m supposed
to put this on am I?”

“No, you’re meant
to eat it."

“Ha, ha, bloody
ha.”

Felix, Tarquin,
Logan, Crystal, the two transplanters and Walter were in the asteroid’s
transitional area, getting themselves into costume. The Martians, looking
slightly ridiculous with their wigs, white suits, platform shoes and medallions
had departed sometime earlier. Felix was consoled by the fact that green, four
foot humanoids with large bulging eyes, must look far more ridiculous than he.
He looked down. His coverall, conforming to his wishes and the critical ones
possessed by Fever’s notoriously fashion conscious customs officials, had
morphed themselves into a white silk shirt and tight, white, flared flannel
trousers and red platform boots. The hired wig, fake gold medallions and chest
hair unfortunately completed the look.

“I look like an
idiot," he said adjusting his testicles which were in danger of forming a
cleavage in his tight trousers.

“That’s funny,"
replied Logan, “so do I.” Logan was dressed becomingly in tartan flared
trousers, a long sleeved beige silk shirt and a brown waistcoat. Overlarge,
half shaded sunglasses were perched below his Afro.

In front of Felix,
Crystal was bending down, sprinkling AI controlled nanoparticles into her hair
to put constantly moving bangs into it. The effect was as if she was standing
in a gently blowing breeze. Her outfit consisted of a ludicrously short red
mini skirt and a matching décolletage revealing tasseled top. He could see her
G-string peaking out from beneath her skirt. He felt his loins stir at the
sight, remembering the last 3 days of sexual pleasure aboard the
Debacherous
Weekend
. Unfortunately his attention wavered and he caught sight of Walter.
Walter had opted for the Las Vegas Elvis look.  Whatever that meant. The tight
suit on Walter’s bulges wasn’t the most attractive sight Felix had ever
witnessed.

Bruce and Derek had settled for matching outfits of white flared leather. Felix decided that commenting on
a Polar Bear and Gorilla wearing Afro wigs and sunglasses was a bad idea.

Fever’s customs
officials, bored with cracking jokes at the new arrivals expense and looking
down Crystal’s cleavage, waved them forward.

“How long to this
Nova burst?," asked Felix.

“We’ve got two
days," replied Tarquin.

“Long enough,"
said Crystal.

The three customs
officials in their section, perhaps out of respect or more likely, whim, were
dressed as the Gibb brothers from the Bee Gees. Felix would have missed this
but for the fact they were wearing glowing neon labels.

One of them
stepped forward. He had a beard, longish hair and half polarized sunglasses.
“Anything to declare?," he inquired of the group in general with a smirk
on his face and his eyes glued to Crystal cleavage.

“Bad taste,"
deadpanned Felix.

“What was that?."
The custom official managed to tug his eyes away from Crystal and glare in
Felix’s direction.

“Nothing." He
heard Logan and Tarquin’s stifled laughter behind him.

The still glaring
customs officials asked for, received, checked out and cleared the party’s various
AI identification before allowing them to pass into the visitor arrival
section.

Three figures
carrying staffs and dressed identically in brown robes were waiting for them.

◊

The three days
since departing the stricken Hedonist Space Liner had been spent pleasantly
enough for Felix. After the last couple of weeks of running and being shot at
by all and sundry, three days spent in relative comfort and safety of Tarquin’s
ship had been a most welcome change. The fact that he’d spent most of that time
ensconced in one of the state rooms doing unspeakable sexual things to Crystal
had certainly helped.

His initial
misgivings after finding that Crystal possessed Angel DNA had slowly faded as
he’d spent more time in her company. His trust in her had grown proportionately
to his growing excitement and relief knowing that he would soon hand over the
Overdrive data to his employers and hopefully resume his own life.

The few times the
two of them had surfaced for air, food, drink and vitamin supplements, he’d found
Logan, Tarquin, Walter, the Transplanters and the Martians invariably drunk or
well on the way to becoming so. The group of men had cheered mightily every
time Felix and Crystal had entered the upstairs lounge.