The 2080s

Jeff Hannan

Table of Contents

Contents

Prologue: V-Commando

Chapter 1: Not Mars!

Chapter 2: The MMM

Chapter 3: The Colossus

Chapter 4: Mind Bending

Chapter 5: The 18:03 to Mars

Chapter 6: Another World

Chapter 7: On The Outside

Chapter 8: Personal video record

Chapter 9: A New Regime

Chapter 10: Emergency Security Clearance

Chapter 11: Torment

Chapter 12: Reality Strikes

Chapter 13: Flushed Out

Chapter 14: Backup

Chapter 15: The Colour of Blood

Chapter 16: Zak v Krushkov

License

© 2007 Jeff Hannan
www.the2080s.com
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons AttributionNoncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/

Prologue: V-Commando

10:45am Geoday 9 November 2084

Zak returned to the real world. He lay, reclined in his gaming chair. `Go kill yourselves,' he said, addressing the videos of his friends on the wall.

After waiting a moment to sense his limbs, he tilted the chair forward to an upright position, and kicked out his legs to give them a stretch.

Another mission accomplished. But now he had to take an enforced five minute break before he could start the next. At fourteen years old, Zak Carter had to suffer the restrictions of junior VCommando.

Zak despised the junior version. If the next mission went to plan, this would be the last time he'd ever have to play it.

As usual, he would use the break-time for learning, whereas his three team-mates used it for smoking. `Ready to die?' boomed a deep, croaky voice.

The signature video of Zak's favourite V-Commando player, Abel White, opened up on his bedroom wall. A two-time world champion, White had a reputation for robot-like accuracy with an automatic rifle. Zak aspired to perfect the same techniques.

He swivelled the chair round to face the wall across his bed. The room had just enough space for the bed, a wardrobe, and the gaming chair. But it didn't feel cramped because these bulky items were the only things that required space. All forms of entertainment and education were on computer, and accessed via the network. The walls were covered with video sheet, which provided ample space to arrange pictures, videos, and other nik-naks over the dynamic wallpaper.

The video sheet emitted a soft glow, and was currently the only source of light in Zak's room.

Footage began of White's latest tournament match. The video stretched across the entire wall, a metre in height, filling his vision.

As White's first victim flew across the screen, from a clean shot to the head, Zak puzzled over the law - I'm allowed to watch adult VCommando, but I'm not allowed to play it. That's stupid, he thought.

The screams of opponents soon filled the room. Then one screeching noise sounded out of place. `Zak!'

It belonged to Skye, Zak's sixteen year old sister. `Aw get lost…' moaned Zak, as the image of Skye replaced the match footage. Zoomed-in, her face filled the frame from top to bottom, and her bright skin lit up the room. From the largely pink background, he could tell she was speaking from her bedroom next door. `Yeah! What d'you want?' he said. `Mum's trying to get hold of you, but you've blocked all the downstairs links,' said Skye. `I don't want to be disturbed while I'm playing.' `Well she needs to speak to you,' said Skye, impatiently. `So get downstairs now.' `What!' said Zak, with irritation. `I'm busy. As soon as Tom and the others get back, we're starting a team mission.' `You think I like being disturbed. So cut the cheek, it sounds important,' said Skye sternly. `Yeah. So's this mission!' he retorted. He cast a sharp look towards a set of icons positioned along the top of the wall. The image of Skye closed, and sound returned to his video.

Zak could sense what was coming, Skye never appreciated being cut off. He remained leaning back in his chair, and faced the bedroom door. A few seconds later the door clicked and opened. Skye strode in and stopped right in front of him. She put her hands on the arms of his chair and thrust her face towards his. `Hey don't be rude to me,' she said firmly. `I'd be happy for you to stay shut in here all day.'

Although he had now grown taller than her, Zak still felt intimidated as she glared at him. He hadn't seen it on the video image, but she had configured her long blond hair into an upward swirl. Fear forced him to suppress a laugh. He said nothing until she backed off.

`I'd like to stay here all day as well,' he said calmly. `The team's got a very important mission coming up. We're just on our break.' `It's just as well you're forced to take a break, otherwise you'd live in the damn game.'

Skye paused a little before every reply. This unsettled Zak, who always suspected she was concocting a remark to wind him up. `I've got to put the time in, to improve my world ranking,' he said.

Skye sighed. `Another V-Commando game?' she asked. `Yep,' said Zak. ` V-Commando: Arctic War 3. Released this morning.'

He pointed at the wall, then darted his eyes along the icons at the top. The game's cover video appeared, then advanced into some sample action. Deep in a snow-covered mountain forest, two sets of opposing soldiers were engaged in a skirmish. Being the junior version, the projectiles comprised of blue gunge which splattered on impact. `It's brilliant!' said Zak, enthusiastically. `Although we've spent most of the time trying to get up a cliff.'

Skye watched it for all of five seconds, then tutted. `Are you not playing the adult version yet?'

A typical Skye taunt. But Zak was ready for her this time. `Not yet,' he said. `Then you're still on the kids' version. Not much point talking about world rankings when most of the world is playing the proper game.'

Zak smiled. Smugly. `No, but Tom's got a cheat code that will unlock the adult version of Arctic War 3.'

Skye's face turned sour.

Zak struggled to contain his glee. `Not only that,' he continued, `but it will put the game on the True-To-Life setting. We're going to enter the code on the very next mission. That's why it's such an important one.'

Skye was visibly stunned, and took longer than her usual pause to respond. `But True-To-Life has no pain threshold. It's as if it were real,' she said, then laughed with incredulity. `Only professionals are allowed access to that - don't you realise what it'll be like?' `Course I do. Proper weapons and human enemies. We get shot and feel real pain. It'll be great,' said Zak, ending with a huge grin.

Skye swung a fist and walloped him on the arm. `Wha!' yelled Zak, as the force almost toppled the chair. `You don't know what pain is,' she said, mocking him.

Zak recovered his composure once the chair stopped rocking. `I know it's going to be tough, but I'm ready for it,' he protested seriously, while conscious of his throbbing arm. `No you're not. You won't last five minutes!' said Skye. `I'll do better than that,' said Zak defiantly. `But when I do get killed, I'll get to experience death.' `Death!' cried Skye with derision. `You think you're going to enjoy that do you? Your body getting ripped to shreds by bullets.' `I've been told it's the best thrill in the world.' `By your mentor Tom? I wouldn't trust him. He's full of it.' `But you said it yourself. I'll never become a professional if I just play the kids' version.' `Oh come on! You're not still dreaming about that are you.'

Skye stood with her hands on her hips, which Zak recognised as her sign of contempt for him. But he had an answer to that. He turned back to the wall, and swiftly presented her with a huge table of names, one of which, near the bottom right hand corner, was highlighted. `Yeah. And why not? I'm now ranked 249 th in the world at junior level,' he said with pride.

Skye took that in for a moment. `That's rubbish,' she said dismissively. `What!' said Zak. `In the world! Considering I've still got nearly four years left at junior level.'

Skye again took a moment to respond.

`Zak, you'll never make it as a professional,' she said firmly. `These stars who play in the big leagues are a different breed to you.

They're ex-military, or former gang members, or come from parts of the world with no child protection. They're from the wrong side of the tracks. They'll rip apart a pampered kid like you, who's not had a single real adventure in his life.'

Zak sighed with frustration. `That's why I need to start playing on True-To-Life now. If I wait till I'm eighteen I'll be way behind so many others.'

Skye shook her head. `I bet you'll play it once, and be too scared to ever play it again.'

Zak normally tried to be unmoved by Skye's provocative remarks. But these stoked a genuine fear within him that he had already left it too late to start playing the game for real. `Do you want to shake on that?' he said, his voice unintentionally croaking. `Yeah!' said Skye confidently. She lifted her hand, but put it to her ear and glanced away.' `Mum wants you downstairs now,' she said. `I'm not going,' said Zak. `Suit yourself,' said Skye. She spun round and walked to the door. `By the way,' said Zak, as she opened it. `What happened to your hair?'

Skye snapped her head back. `You're one to talk, with your spiky mess,' she said. `This is the latest design. I've got the most expensive hair system - I'm gonna use it!'

Zak waited until she had left the room and slammed the door. `Yeah,' he said, `but computers weren't invented for you to do that to your hair.'

A deliberate cough echoed around the room. `Tom,' said Zak. `Ready to see some real fighting Zak?' said Tom. `We're all waiting.' `Yeah. I'm ready,' said Zak, his voice taking a nervous wobble.

`In we go then,' said Tom. `I'll show you Skye,' muttered Zak under his breath. He always psyched himself up at the start of a mission, and this time he had Skye's taunts ringing in his ears as extra motivation.

His gaming chair tilted back into its reclined position, putting Zak almost horizontal. It was generously padded, and so comfortable that he immediately started to feel as if he was floating. Over the head rest lay the Mind Mat - the standard interface for virtual reality. By simply resting his head on the Mind Mat and closing his eyes, he would experience the game in his mind. By feeding his five senses sight, hearing, smell, taste and touch; and the body's internal sense of orientation and movement, the Mind Mat would completely immerse him in the virtual world. And to prevent distraction, it would limit any external stimuli such as sound from reaching his in-game consciousness.

To leave a game, Zak simply had to express the intention to leave and force open his real eyes. For anyone on the outside, it was a little more difficult to get his attention.

Zak let the back of his head sink into the Mind Mat, and closed his eyes.

*

Solid white letters emerged against a black background and falling snow - "Mission 3: Castle Arkanovich". This lasted several seconds while the level loaded.

Zak found himself standing in deep snow alongside his three team-mates, Tom, Van and Arnie. Only Tom hid behind his avatar, while everyone else was skinned as their true selves. That was not obvious, since all bar Zak represented extremes. Little Arnie was stuck in a ten-year-old's body. He was dwarfed by Van, whose lanky frame was the consequence of growing too fast. Van even stretched over the mighty Tom, whose over-muscular body appeared to push the limits of avatar design. Zak was rarely happy to be average, but made an exception for body shape.

To one side of the boys was an enormous frozen lake, and on the other, a mountain with dense snow-covered forest. The mission was set just after dawn. It was overcast, but the light was good. They stood right on the edge of the lake, and just below was a metre wide hole in the ice. Zak peered into the dark water. `I can just see the lights of our underwater vehicle,' he said. `It's a rescue mission,' said Tom. `I expect this is where we return.'

The hole began to whiten and freeze over, making it harder to see. `Get your bearings,' said Van, `we'll need to remember the exact spot.'

The boys took a good look around.

The icy lake was several kilometres across, and surrounded by steep mountains. Where they stood the ground was flat, and snowfall continued to settle despite a blustery wind whipping it up. The forest was cut back thirty metres from the edge of the lake. Beyond that, the base of the mountain rose gradually to start with, then steepened to become a sheer cliff, which stood out due to the lack of trees. Above the cliff, the forest thickened again and remained solid right to the top, upon which four towers could be seen stretching above the canopy. `Cool, another cliff,' said Zak. `I'm gonna make it over this time.' `That castle up there is our target,' said Tom.

The yellowish stone towers appeared to be the only splash of colour in the landscape, which was otherwise dominated by just two tones, the white of the snow, ice and sky, and the darkness of the trees and rock. `I've got a small rucksack with a spare pair of ski-boots,' said Arnie. `They must be for who we're rescuing,' said Tom, `Perhaps someone else better take those.' `Good idea!' said Arnie. `Anyone got any other items?' asked Tom.

The boys checked. They were kitted out with the latest in arctic combat gear. As well as helmet, goggles and ski-boots, each wore a single-piece snow-suit, that covered the rest of their body. The suit was thin, light, and so comfortable in action it was like wearing a tshirt and shorts. Its camouflage skin was made from reflective material, which even from a short distance made the suit look a jumble of shapes, and almost invisible against a backdrop of trees.

Zak had read the equipment guide. It claimed the suit was waterproof, windproof and thermal lined. For the junior version, this protection against the elements had always been irrelevant. For a moment, Zak wondered how effective the suits would be once the cheat was activated.

Other features of the junior version were more striking, since its entire purpose was to destroy the illusion of reality. Above each boy's head hovered a glowing coloured star. The stars were only visible to team-mates, not the enemy. But Zak hated them, because when the bright colours were in his field of view, it was more difficult to pick out danger from the subtle shades of the forest. Ambient music was another source of irritation, drowning out small sounds that could be important.

Each boy was equipped with a rifle. Unfortunately, this too had no resemblance to any real-life weapon. `I've got a wall climbing set,' said Van. `Okay,' said Tom. `Zak, perhaps you should take the boots.' `Will do,' said Zak. He took the rucksack from Arnie and put it on his back. `Where's our mission brief?' asked Van, impatiently.

Suddenly, a non-camouflaged figure materialised into view in front of them. It was the Commanding Officer. His age, build and facial expression suggested he was going to bark orders and tell them what a rotten lot they were. Instead, he spoke softly. `Hello children. I'm here to explain your mission.'

The boys looked round at each other and smiled cynically. `Our mission is to unlock the adult version,' said Zak.

The Officer was not listening. `Take a look at the map,' he said.

A solid three-dimensional map appeared, hovering in the air in front of the boys. It was an aerial view of the terrain, overlaid with chart symbols. The boys were familiar with the format. A black gloved hand hovered over the map, which would point to features referred to in the Officer's briefing.

The boys gathered around, and began to study it. Tom was quite animated, dancing around the map to inspect the various features in detail. `Your mission,' continued the Officer, `is to rescue a senior diplomat of the Western Alliance. He was kidnapped five days ago in Berlin and has just been delivered here to the castle of General Arkanovich.' `How did you find that out?' asked Van.

The Officer ignored the question. `This diplomat is privy to our military plans for the Eastern Front.

The General is skilled in the use of torture, and will push a man to death to get information. Our diplomat is in the gravest danger,' said the Officer, emphasising the last point with an appropriate tone of voice. `I wish these dummies would answer our questions,' said Van.

He stepped up to the Officer and knocked on his forehead. The Officer did not react. `You make your way up to the castle through the forest,' he continued, `which is packed with security measures to detect and destroy intruders. There are tree mounted cameras, automatic gun turrets, and you will encounter patrols circling the perimeter. Wild animals also roam the forest, so be on your guard at all times.'

Having studied the map, the boys now started to shuffle around impatiently. They had heard this kind of briefing many times before, but were unable to get going until it was over. `Once you reach the castle, you make your way to the top of the South Tower where the diplomat is being held. Give him the spare pair of ski-boots, and escort him back here.' `Can he ski?' asked Van. `Finally, let's run through your kit,' said the Officer, ignoring him again.

`Oh come on!' wailed Van, `We need to know!' `It's a VIP rescue,' said Tom. `That's all we need to know.'

The boys stepped away, leaving the Officer to finish the briefing alone. `When do we enter the cheat code Tom?' asked Zak, excitedly. `We have to make it into the castle first,' said Tom calmly. `On the ground floor there is a Communications room with several computer terminals. We have to enter the code into one of those terminals. But once that's done, the cheat is activated for the rest of the mission and all future missions.' `Thank God,' said Van. `Splatting all these Spongeymen is turning me into a disturbed individual.'

Tom laughed. `You're gonna love it,' he said, clearly amused at what he knew, but they didn't.

Zak had another question about the cheat code, but couldn't decide whether it was worth asking. Before he could make up his mind, Tom took charge of strategy. `We need to punch a hole in their defences and clear the path of guns and patrols for the return journey,' said Tom. `So let's split up.

Get thirty metres apart, and move forward in parallel. Then, before the bottom of the cliff, head either left or right, and follow the tracks up the steadier incline. Once we're over the cliff, it should be an easy route to the castle. We'll gather outside the main gate, then talk again.

And one other thing - try not to get hurt on the way up.'

Van and Arnie nodded. But Zak frowned at Tom. `Hang on a minute.' `No Zak,' said Tom firmly. `Let's get going.'

The Officer had finally finished, and was fading out.

Tom set his feet apart and leaned forward. `Open!' he commanded.

A red light flashed on the outer side of each boot. And as it did so, the ski started to extend. At the front and back the ski slid out from its holding position on the sole, making a soft beep. At about six inches either side, they stopped, clicked into place, and the light turned to green. It was a perfectly formed miniature ski, with a slightly more curved lip at the front than a full length one. Attached to the outer side of each boot was a small horizontal cylinder. `On!' commanded Tom.

Instantly, the lights turned off, the cylinders fired a fierce blue flame, and Tom was propelled forward. Starting smoothly, and accelerating rapidly, he crouched like a downhill skier, but holding his rifle rather than sticks. The skis cut parallel grooves in the snow as he drove forward. He banked to the right, then the left, creating sprays of snow as the skis cut in.

Van and Arnie quickly followed suit.

Zak paused and gazed up at the mountain. `I can jump the cliff,' he said. There was no need to shout, as they were all linked by a voice communication channel. `No you can't,' said Van, who was already reaching the trees. `I can. I've worked it out,' replied Zak. `Zak,' said Tom. `I'm fed up with this. We can't get over the cliff. How many times have we tried.' `Lots, but I've now realised how it can be done,' insisted Zak. `All the cliffs we've tried stick out at the top, and I checked this one on the map,' said Tom. `It's the same.' `It's designed that way Zak,' said Van, as if he knew the makers of the game. `It's not a proper route, it's just a red herring.' `There's no point in going the boring route. I want to get the top quickly, and this is the way,' said Zak.

He knew he shouldn't try it, not this time. But not only did he find the challenge irresistable, the idea of taking the easy route positively repelled him. `Zak, we haven't got time for this,' said Tom angrily. `I don't want to be waiting around at the top for you.' `I'll beat you to the top,' said Zak assuredly. `So don't you keep me waiting.'

He activated his ski-jets, crouched down, and was on his way.

As he entered the forest, he glanced around to check the progress of his team-mates. They had become impossible to see due to the camouflaged clothing. But the junior version of the game ensured he could tell their position easily, due to the bright stars hovering above them red for Tom, who had headed to the left side of the cliff, blue for Van, to the right. Zak headed straight towards it, where in front of him, Arnie's green star jiggled about - which meant that he was still alive and on the move.

As Zak started to ascend the mountain, the forest became steeper and more dense. He could no longer pick out a straight route through the trees, and had to continuously bank from side to side. Picking out a perfect path was the key to going fast.

He could see that Arnie was also headed straight for the cliff, both from the position of his green star, and his ski tracks, which Zak crossed repeatedly in the otherwise fresh snow. He felt a moment of surprise that Arnie was still alive. But just seconds later, Arnie's star exploded, creating a shower of sparkling green embers. When the effect subsided, a dull remnant of a star remained, stationary. He was now dead. `Arnie's gone,' said Zak. `Shame,' said Tom. `That must be a record for him though.'

Zak wondered how he had made it so far. Arnie had been invited on the team because he was a beginner. They were trying to improve their skills by taking on tougher challenges, and missions were much harder if there were only three in the team. So they were happy to allow Arnie to tag along, and get killed at an early stage.

Zak soon encountered the first outer defences of the castle. Two gun turrets hung from trees, wrecked and smoking. Arnie was learning. His admiration turned to amazement when he passed a Spongeyman patrol. Three guards lay motionless in the snow splattered in blue gunge. `Well done Arnie!' said Zak.

Zak was closing in on the cliff, and was aware that near Arnie's dead body, another patrol would be lying in wait. He pulled the rifle from his back-mounted holder and put it by his side. It was bulky, though this was due to its futuristic design rather than for any practical reason. The gunge rifle was another fictional item like the ski-jets, only this time created purely for the junior version of the game. Its white plastic casing suited the camouflage, but on the base was a large sac that emitted a bright blue glow. Zak enjoyed using the rifle, but looked forward to the dramatic effect of a real life gun, with its noise, power and devastation. He wanted to see things ripped apart by bullets.

Suddenly, a Spongeyman stepped out from the cover of a tree ahead, with his rifle aimed at Zak. But Zak was too quick for him, and sent him flying with a shot to the head, the gunge neatly wrapping itself around his face.

Zak was already glancing around and spotted two more either side of him, both lifting their rifles ready to fire. He had to act immediately to deal with them both. He jumped into the air and twisted his body sharply around to the left. Despite being airborne for only a short time, he managed to swivel a full 360 degrees, and shoot first the one to his left, then the one to his right, both with headshots, and land facing forward again.

Adrenaline pumping, he took a quick deep breath. `Groovy!' whined a scratchy voice. `Shut up!' exclaimed Zak.

He continued on, having lost no speed during the encounter.

Within seconds, Zak sped past the prone body of Arnie. His chest had taken several hits, but it looked like a bucket of green gunge had been thrown over him. His face was concealed by a mask, which had bright painted eyes and a big upturned smile. This was a feature of the junior version, to signify that he was dead. Zak regarded such symbols as ridiculous.

He felt another wave of excitement at the prospect of playing the True-To-Life setting and experiencing death. Arnie had experienced a painless end to the game. When the cheat was turned on, death would be painful - so Zak had been promised.

He now approached the cliff. Up ahead, the slope rose sharply and the trees became more sparse. His view of it quickly became clear. Near the top of the cliff, as the slope became vertical, there were only a handful of trees, that had somehow managed to grow from ledges that stuck out. The snow gave way to ice, and even that became patchy, so he would have to select his path carefully.

These strange cliffs had appeared in the earlier missions, and were one of the game's new features. Zak was sure that they were not a barrier, but a challenge. They had all tried several times to make it over, but without success. The cliffs jutted out a little at the top, which meant that even if they had enough speed to reach the top, they were propelled away from the cliff. It seemed that no amount of acrobatics could prevent them from crashing back into the forest below. The others had concluded it was impossible to make it over.

But Zak had realised that as they tried to twist around to get over the cliff, the jets were pushing them further away. His solution was to control the jets.

Zak quickly selected the route he was going to take up the icy slope. He slotted his rifle back into its holder, and crouched down.

The slope became steeper, but he raced up it without losing any speed. It continued to rise, and soon became vertical. He kept to the ice, and his velocity propelled him up the cliff-face.

As he neared the top he could feel his speed dropping, as gravity began to overpower both the force of the jets and his momentum. He was now facing up into the sky, and travelling a path that disappeared ahead of him. From his perspective, the lip of the cliff looked like a tiny ramp. He tried to maintain a mental image of what he was going to do.

He reached the top faster than he remembered. He flew into the air above the cliff, but guided away from it by the lip. `Off!' he shouted. The jets extinguished on his command. All he could see was sky, but he carried out his plan. He pulled himself round in a backward somersault. First the forest came into upsidedown view. Then, as he became upright again, the cliff emerged. It seemed miles away, but critically, much closer than ever before. He was still rising, and quite high above the edge.

`On!' he shouted again. He had reached the peak of his jump and was starting to fall. The jets fired up. Now facing the cliff, Zak was immediately propelled towards it. Gravity pulled him down faster, and the jets accelerated him forward. He approached the edge of the cliff at increasing speed, all too quick for him to judge what was going to happen.

Zak suddenly feared he wasn't going to make it and stretched out his hands to grab on to something. There was an impact, but it was his skis hitting the top side of the lip. He landed heavily, but slid forward to safety.

Before he had a chance to catch his breath, he spotted two treemounted gun turrets locking onto him. He whipped the rifle out of its holder and despatched them in an instant. He glanced around again, and judged the immediate danger to be over.

An overwhelming sense of excitement erupted within him. `Off!' he shouted. The jets shut off and he turned back towards the cliff edge, stopping to survey the scene. He had a towering view of the forest below and the frozen lake and mountains in the distance.

Far below him, and to either side, he could see red and blue stars moving slowly along the shallower routes up the mountain. `Look at me!' he roared with delight. `Uh?' came two replies. `I don't believe it!' said Tom, seriously.

Zak smiled at the thought of them looking around for his yellow star, and then finding it high above them. `You said it couldn't be done,' he jeered in triumph. `I'm right!

You're wrong!' `Okay Zak. Well done,' said Van, with typical irritation. `Y'know, I think you guys are losing your nerve. Maybe I should look for some new team-mates,' said Zak, silently laughing. `Right,' said Tom, sounding shaken. `Well, let's get to the top first yeah.'

Zak was about to rub it in even more when he heard movement behind him. He jumped in the air and swivelled 180 degrees to face back toward the mountain. He saw wolves. Four of them were sprinting towards him, close together, teeth bared. Was there time?

He aimed the rifle and shot the closest one just below its head.

There was a yelp, and the wolf was stopped in its tracks by a coating of blue gunge. The one behind it jumped over the flailing body. Zak had aimed at the next closest. He fired again, with the same accuracy.

There was only a small delay between each shot, but it seemed far too long. The remaining two were close. Was he too near the edge of the cliff? He had aimed at another, but for some reason it was the one furthest away. He fired once more. The sounds became mesmerising - gunshot, yelp, gunshot, yelp. He cursed the background music. The last wolf was upon him. Zak aimed the rifle precisely. It jumped at him, and he pulled the trigger too soon, as the rifle hadn't completed its recovery. It didn't fire.

Zak saw a wide open jaw come towards him. He leant back, and then felt the impact as the wolf snapped its jaw at his neck. He flew backwards into the snow, and the wolf went over him.

Zak noticed his health gauge drop a hefty forty percent. His vision blurred, causing the trees that towered above him to split into multiples and then dance around. This was a feature of the game, making him completely disoriented. He heard the growl of a wolf behind him, so he frantically got to his feet, and rushed to get behind what he hoped was a genuine tree. Running was difficult with the skis extended, and he felt clumsy and vulnerable. `Close!' he commanded.

The skis withdrew, and he dived behind the tree. He breathed a sigh of relief as his vision returned to normal.

Then Zak realised that he did not have his rifle. He peeked out.

The wolf was getting up right by the edge of the cliff. It shook itself to get rid of the snow picked up by its fur as it rolled over. He scanned intently for the blue glow, but there was no sign of it. The rifle must have gone over the edge of the cliff!

Van's voice cut in. `Hey Zak, waiting for us eh, that's a bit cheeky.' `Don't get cocky Zak,' said Tom. `No-one likes that.'

Zak had to ignore them, the wolf was on the attack again.

From behind the tree, Zak waited to see which side the wolf would go. It charged the left side, so Zak darted to the right. But the wolf followed him round with ease and jumped on his back.

Zak fell forward into the snow. His back was protected by the rucksack, but this also made it difficult for him to manoeuvre. The wolf had its jaws around the rucksack, but in clawing at him ripped away the lower back of his snow-suit. Zak managed to swing his right elbow, and heard a crack and a yelp. The wolf pulled itself away and ran off.

Zak rolled over and got to his feet. But to his frustration, saw that the wolf had also recovered, and was readying itself to charge again.

He had to kill it. But he had no weapon.

The rucksack pulled awkwardly on his back. He thought of its contents, a spare pair of ski-jet boots. The jet was not a weapon, but it discharged a lethal flame.

The wolf trotted towards him and bared its teeth. Zak had no time to unpack the spare boots. He bent down and unclipped his left boot, then wrenched it off his foot. The wolf started its charge. `On!' he shouted, as the wolf leapt towards him, jaws wide open.

He held the boot up, jet facing away, and a concentrated stream of fire burst out of it and into the gaping mouth that descended on him. But Zak hadn't thought of the other physical effects. The force of the jet flung his upper body backwards, while the right boot he was standing on fired forwards. He did a backwards somersault and kicked the wolf in the stomach, flinging it up into the air. The wolf went flying over the edge of the cliff, and Zak almost went with it. `Off!' he screamed, as he completed his somersault and landed face down in the snow, somewhat dazed himself.

His first thought, having overcome this particular ordeal, was the loss of his rifle. He couldn't go on without one, and to have to go back down to the bottom of the cliff would be particularly humiliating. He pushed himself up onto his knees, then broke into a smile. Just a couple of metres away, squashed down into the snow with the blue section submerged, was the gunge rifle.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and checked the positions of the others. They were now getting near the top via their slow routes. He retrieved his rifle, but now where was his boot? It wasn't in the disturbed snow around him. He cautiously approached the edge and peered over. Half way down the cliff-face, where the snow met the ice, the boot stuck out. `Damn,' he said, as he realised he'd blown it. `What's that?' said Tom.

Zak decided that while it might be tough on the diplomat, he would have to borrow one of his boots. He took off the rucksack and quickly unpacked it, taking out the left one.

He pulled up the thick sock on his left foot, and found it was sopping wet. His health bar was down below fifty percent, and gradually slipping lower. `It would be a lot easier if you could feel these things,' he muttered.

He put his foot into the boot, and it went all the way in without touching the sides. He lifted his foot up, but the boot only came up with his toes. It hung on them for a second, then slid off. `This boot's massive!' he cried. `I can't carry on with this.' He took the boot and slammed it into the ground in frustration. `What are you doing Zak?' asked Van sternly. `I've messed up Van,' said Zak sorrowfully. `I'll have to go back down.'

He noticed Tom's red star storming up the mountain. He'd reached the level of the cliff the long way round, and was now heading towards the castle. `Your new team-mates are going to love you,' said Tom.

Zak felt pretty miserable as he packed up the rucksack. He wondered if he could make his way down gracefully. There was no need to fire the jets to go downhill. He lifted his left leg in the air, hopped over the edge of the cliff, and tumbled down the ice, ploughing into his boot with a thump.

Zak opted to take the easy route back up. His concentration had been shattered, and he couldn't risk another attempt on the cliff. He finally reached the others, who were waiting at the castle, lying down behind a snow bank scouting the scene. `That's the thing I hate about team missions,' said Van, `waiting for the slowcoaches to catch up.' `It's your own fault Zak,' said Tom grumpily. `If you stopped doing stupid things like prancing around at the top of that cliff, you'd be in the top 10, not just the top 250.'

Zak didn't reply. He wasn't in a particularly good mood either.

As he laid down in position behind the bank, he heard his name being called, from a distance. It was a female voice. Then he felt his body shake, even though he wasn't moving. He knew what all this meant, but ignored it.

The others waited to let Zak survey the scene ahead. The castle was at the top of the mountain on a plateau, and he could see that behind it, the forest fell away down the other side. Nevertheless, there was still room for a moat, with a drawbridge lowered over it. A few armed guards patrolled the area, while other uniformed soldiers supervised activity. A truck turned out of the East gate and made its way along a narrow track to the North. Zak deduced the paths taken by the guards from the trails of footprints in the lightly falling snow.

Tom shifted, ready to issue commands again. `Okay, here's what we're gonna do. Van, you go round to the South side and scale the tower. Zak, our job is to make a direct attack on the castle, and create enough of a distraction to give Van a clear run to the top. We'll approach the castle through the East gate, and there's an entrance just beyond it. I reckon the Communications room won't be far from there. You need to cover me as I go in, then I'll do the same for you.' He smiled. `We'll have that cheat turned on in no time.'

Zak observed the way Tom constructed a plan and led the team.

Zak was undoubtedly the most physically talented player among the three, but had never led an assault. He intended to learn that side to the game.

Van wasted no time following the instructions. He headed left to make his way round to the South side, using the trees to stay hidden.

Tom waited for the moment at which all the guards were facing away from them, then broke cover and hurried towards the East gate. He climbed down at the edge of the moat, hung off the drawbridge, and sidled along. Some guards turned around, but none saw him. Zak watched carefully, waiting to see if Tom would be spotted, as he didn't want to kick up a fuss sooner than necessary. Inevitably, one of the guards became suspicious, and moved towards the drawbridge to investigate. Zak knew he had to eliminate him, and lifted his rifle to take aim.

Suddenly, Zak's vision went blank. He opened his eyes to find his mum standing over him, having pulled his head off the Mind Mat by grabbing hold of his ears. `Ow!' wailed Zak, as she let go. `I do not appreciate waiting around while you play games,' she said loudly. `But I'm in the middle of a mission. I can't just drop out,' he pleaded. `You knew we were waiting before you started,' she said. `So that's tough.'

Zak spotted Skye standing in the doorway, arms folded. `Okay,' said Zak. `Just let me sign out. Please?'

Mum reached forward and swiped the Mind Mat off the gaming chair. She clutched it to her chest and glared at Zak.

This was serious.

Without another word, he leapt out of the chair, and followed her as she turned and marched out of the room.

Skye winked at him. Had Mum not been so furious, Zak would have delivered a kick to Skye's backside.

He co-operated because he'd pushed Mum to the limit. If he pushed too far, she was not afraid to dish out the ultimate punishment confining Zak to his room and denying him access to the computer.

No computer meant no entertainment, no information, and no communication. There would be nothing to do but stare out the window of a grey room.

Zak followed her downstairs. He stepped into the lounge, to be confronted by a single word displayed in huge bright letters across the main wall "WAITING". `Yeah okay,' he said, irritated. `You've made your point.'

As he spoke, he realised it was not directed at him. All of the usual hideous wallpaper had been replaced by a dark blue background. The message signified an official conference call.

Mum stood there with her arms folded, still fuming. Zak wondered why his mum was acting so serious lately. She no longer seemed to appreciate anything he would consider fun, or even take her own pleasure from life. She left her short brown hair unstyled, and wore clothes so dull they appeared to pre-date modern materials. He couldn't see where Skye had got her flamboyance.

He heard a noise from the hall. Peering round the doorway he caught sight of his dad backing out of the kitchen. `No Rover, you stay in there,' he said, slowly retracting his arm and pulling the door closed. A dog's nose poked though momentarily, and there was a little whine as the door clicked shut.

Zak's dad was in his late fifties, and starting to look a little frail.

His wispy overgrown hair seemed out of place in the family. He looked as though he'd mislaid his glasses, although of course no-one wore glasses these days. `It's probably better if we stay standing,' he said.

With a quick glance at the main wall, Dad got things underway.

The video sheet lit up with a row of five faces, each in their own window. `Oh my god!' said Zak, recognising them immediately - four of his schoolteachers, and in the centre his headmaster, Mr. Smith.

Mr. Smith was looking down at his note pane. `I don't like being kept waiting Carter.' `I'm sorry,' said Dad. `I was talking to the boy,' said Mr. Smith. `No-one calls me Carter,' said Zak, very quietly. `Even your lot.'

What were they doing calling him on one of his weekend days? And surely most of them would be on their days-off. One of the teachers was definitely speaking from his own home, judging by the eye-melting pattern that drifted on the wall behind him.

Mr. Smith slowly looked up. `Mrs. Carter, I believe you handle your son's education.' `That's right,' said Mum timidly. She stood head slightly bowed, the Mind Mat still in her hands. `Let's get to the point,' said Mr. Smith. `By the end of the last school year, Zak had established himself at the top of his class.

Indeed, I recall a meeting similar to this one, in which we praised his performance.'

Mum nodded. Mr. Smith stared straight ahead. `So, it is with regret that we find a steady decline in marks over this term. Falling in the region of 5% per week. His current average mark is down 43% on last year's. That leaves him incredibly, now ranked second bottom.'

Mr. Smith paused, allowing the statistics to sink in. `What has been your response to this decline?' he demanded. `I'm sorry, I didn't know about it,' said Mum. `I haven't been regularly checking.' `Not checking!' barked the headmaster. `You should have the chart on your wall, where you'll see his progress every day. You can't miss a big red line going downwards.' `Yes, I'll set it up right after this meeting.' `That's just a start,' said Mr. Smith firmly. `I decided to personally review his work. He has submitted every assignment, but over time there is less and less effort going into each one. It only takes one blink to submit and his last entry suggests he barely did more than that. I want an explanation for this behaviour.'

Zak wanted to crawl away. This was news to Mum - her face showed it.

One of the female teachers coughed and leaned forward with a sympathetic smile. `Are there… family problems?' she asked, tentatively.

Mum's grip on the Mind Mat tightened, twisting it. Zak winced.

It was sturdy gear, but the instructions warned no twisting. `No,' said Mum after a deep breath. `I know what the explanation is. Zak spends all his spare time playing games.' `I see,' said the headmaster, raising his eyebrows. `But clearly you have the power to do something about that.'

Mum looked down at the Mind Mat in her hands.

Zak did not like the way this conversation was headed. `I don't like it,' said Mum, `but it's all he's interested in. I've tried to persuade him to do other things.' `We are not opposed to the Mind Mat,' said Mr. Smith. `There are thousands of educational programs that we recommend pupils to play, from… experiencing life in a bronze-age village, to flying with a swarm of african bees.' `Sounds great,' said Zak under his breath. `Just minimise the amount of frivolous usage Mrs. Carter.' `Yes, I will do that,' said Mum. `You need to make sure he does a variety of activities, so he doesn't get obsessed with any one of them. I would also recommend shoving him outside regularly so he can get some fresh air.

This was going too far. `But I can't play outside can I?' Zak retorted. `It's too cold.

There's been a blizzard for the last month, and the snow's too deep to walk in.' `You're not in a position to answer back,' snapped Mr. Smith. `As a child you do as you're told. When you reach eighteen you can decide for yourself.'

Zak wanted this conference to end as soon as possible. `Okay. I will work harder,' he conceded, letting his head drop. `You had better,' replied the headmaster. `This school has exceptionally high standards. We will review your performance again at the end of the calendar year. If there is not a significant improvement, you will be excluded from the school. I'm sure I don't need to spell out the consequences of that.'

Excluded! That was extreme, especially since the school was suffering falling numbers. Mum and Dad looked equally horrified.

`We had problems with Skye,' mumbled another female teacher, on his left. `We should have confronted the parents then.'

Mr. Smith motioned to the teacher to stop talking, but had turned to the opposite side by mistake. On realising, he flapped his hands. `Okay that's it,' he said, irritably. `Some of us are at work today.

We'll announce our decision at the end of term, but your chart will tell the story.'

The walls returned to wallpaper, and the room brightened. `What a nightmare,' said Zak. `He creeped me out last time, and that was with good news. Do we have to entertain them in our own home?' `How dare you!' shouted Mum. `We had to fight to get you into that school. And now you put us through this. Why did we bother.'

Zak recoiled. His eyes fixed on the Mind Mat. Tom and Van would have carried on without him. They could have activated the cheat by now. The situation required some serious tact. `I did do well at school,' he said. `But now I'm working hard at the game, and I'm doing well at that.' `It's always good to do your best Zak,' said Dad. `But the game is not as important as your education.' `But what's an education for to get a job,' said Zak. `If I get really good at the game, I can become a professional. I'd make a lot of money.'

Mum reacted as if hit by a bad smell. `You can't give up your education because of some far-fetched idea of becoming a game star. It's not a proper career path.' She held up the Mind Mat. `I have to take drastic action. I'm going to confiscate this until I see your results improve.'

Zak simply froze. `Zak, you're too young to commit yourself to such a gamble,' said Dad. `Times are changing. We don't know what the future will hold. You need a good education, so you can adapt.'

Zak did not know what Dad was talking about. Dad had never discussed the future with him, and so he had plotted his own course.

All that mattered now was getting back to the game.

Zak put up his hands.

`You're right,' he acknowledged. `School is very important and I've let it slip. I'll forget about the game for a while, and try and get back to being top of the class.' `Good,' said Mum tentatively. `Actually, my next assignment has to be done this weekend. The deadline is first thing Tuesday. I'll start it right now and get it finished today.'

Zak smiled enthusiastically. Mum and Dad returned cautious smiles. `Yeah, I need the mat,' said Zak, pointing to it. `Can't you use the Mind Patch?' asked Mum, suspiciously. `Er…, that'll be difficult,' said Zak. `It's a Business Studies roleplay. We have to do a sales pitch for solar panel paving, so I've got to act the part. Body language is 30%.'

Zak gazed at Mum expectantly.

She screwed up her face. Then slowly handed the mat over to Zak. `Thanks,' he said, cradling the mat as if it were some precious material, and straightening it out.

He calmly turned and strolled out of the lounge without looking back. Once he reached his room and closed the door, he let out a deep breath and checked his watch, which was rendered on his video wristband. `Not too much time lost,' he whispered to himself.

He unfolded the Mind Mat over the top of the gaming chair, and leapt on.

Before tilting the chair back, Zak considered the mess he had created for himself. How was he going to find time to complete schoolwork as well as dedicate himself to the game? He would have to deal with that problem later.

On closing his eyes, he appeared back in position near the castle.

As he expected, the game had moved on. Tom had extricated himself from the tangle in which Zak had left him. A few dead guards lay face down in the moat, but the scene was otherwise deserted. It was all strangely quiet. `Anyone home?' asked Zak.

`Decided to join us again have you,' said Tom. Zak could hear him over the communication channel. `What's going on?' `We've done all the hard work and broken through the main defences.'

Tom broke off to fire a few shots. `I'm trying to get into the Communications room,' he said, `but there's a couple of Spongeys holding out. I'm also defending the corridor, as they keep sending back-up. So I could do with you here sharpish.' `Coming,' said Zak. `What about you Van?' `I'm halfway up this tower,' said Van. `The cheat'll probably make my job harder, but it's what I'm here for.'

With the battle raging inside the castle buildings, there was noone outside to challenge Zak. The grounds were icy, so rather than run, he used the ski-jets. He powered his way up to and over the drawbridge, through the East gate, and across a courtyard littered with dead Spongeymen. Tom had been hard at work.

He reached the entrance and closed his skis, returning them to boot form. Cradling his rifle, he pushed through the door.

The inside was surprisingly bare. A great entrance hall with a dirty chandelier and empty picture frames suggested that the castle had once been used by aristocrats. Now used by the military, the most striking feature was a pile of broken crates dumped by the stairs.

Squeaks and splats echoed around one of the tall dark corridors leading out of the hall.

Zak shook his head. `Not long now,' he said, setting off and following the sound.

Blue flashes ahead told him the action was just around the next corner.

He snatched a view. A single Spongeyman had his back to him, taking cover behind cabinets lined up along the wall. At the far end, from below a red star, Tom redecorated the metal furniture with his rifle.

Zak was never so wasteful. With a single shot, he blasted the orange-coloured guard, who crumpled to the ground in a sticky mess of blue gunge. He ran to join Tom, taking a disdainful glance at the mask solidifying over the Spongeyman's face.

Without hesitation, the two boys burst through the door of the Communications room and dealt with the resistance inside swiftly and accurately, causing no damage to any equipment within. `You see,' said Tom with a smile, stepping over the bodies, `it takes more than twice as long with one person instead of two. Now where do we enter this code? We'd better get a move on, as back-up will be here any second.'

The walls of the room were tiled with video sheet, displaying an array of footage, charts and text. Several keyboards were scattered around on desks up against each wall. Tom looked around the room, scanning the items on display. `We're looking for a Visitors Book,' he said. He pointed to an image of an open book. `Found it! Now which of these keyboards?'

He hit keys on each keyboard on the desk in front of him. On the fifth one a stream of characters appeared in the Visitors Book entry form. `This one!' He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, and held it up to read. `Hey Tom,' said Zak urgently. `Can I do it?' `Sure,' said Tom, and handed him the piece of paper. Tom then moved to check the door. `But before you do that, I need to remind you both of something. Are you listening Van?' `Should be okay for a minute,' said Van. `Okay,' said Tom. `This cheat puts the game on the True-To-Life setting. You know what that means you cannot choose to quit the game. You can only get out by completing the mission or getting killed.'

Zak remembered how difficult it was as a beginner to stop himself opening his real eyes. He couldn't imagine not being able to quit.

`I know you're both keen to experience death, and you probably will,' continued Tom. `You won't be disappointed with that experience. But a nasty fate is to get terribly injured. If that happens, you just have to endure the pain. Believe me, ten minutes can seem like hours. But try not to freak out, okay.'

Zak knew this, but hearing it right now turned his excitement into anxiety. `Thanks for that Tom,' he said ungratefully. `What if your Mum drags you off the Mind Mat?' said Van, chuckling. `Yeah,' laughed Tom. `The game can't stop Zak's Mum. That is another way out.'

Zak blushed with embarrassment. But he held back a retort as he had a question. He had wondered whether it was possible to deactivate the cheat. If so, returning to the junior version would provide yet another way to quit the game. He hesitated about asking, in case Tom took it to mean he was worried. He would never do it anyway. `Quick! They're coming,' said Tom. `Type in the code then find cover immediately.'

Video on the wall showed CCTV of the castle corridors. Purple and orange suited guards hurried along.

He approached the desk and held up the piece of paper in his hand. It contained a sequence of twelve letters and numbers.

Sweeping his right hand across the keyboard, he typed the code.

The Visitor's Book faded to black. Zak looked at Tom, who showed no sign of concern. There was a beep, and a message appeared "Cheat activated". As this happened, the lights dimmed for a second, and the entire wall of video sheet flickered. The music stopped and the room fell silent but for the distant sound of boots clacking.

Zak saw the red star above Tom's head disappear, along with the information that hovered in his own peripheral vision. The stuffed heads of the Spongeymen deflated and turned into human heads, while their uniforms drained of colour. Zak glanced up at the CCTV.

In place of coloured toys were dark figures in long coats. Soldiers coming to kill. The light changed, sucking out every splash of bright colour, and recasting sinister shadows.

He looked down, and in his hands the gleaming plastic rifle morphed into a metallic machine gun, even taking on a worn and battered look. The moment he had wished for had arrived. `Aaahhh!' he yelled.

An icy blast had rushed through the back of his suit. The chill pulsed through him as if he'd been punched by it. He saw that his suit was in tatters around his lower back, where the wolf had clawed at him. It was soaked in blood.

He choked and coughed hard, blood spluttering from his mouth.

He put a hand to his throat and realised that the wolf had also sunk its teeth in. His throat felt like it was burning, yet as he breathed in, the air was ice cold. Unfortunately, neither sensation quelled the other.

With no health bar in his field of vision, Zak realised that the pain told him his condition. `You're in a bad way,' said Tom. `Do you want to pull yourself together, or are you going to die before we even start.' `Yeah,' choked Zak, trying to recover from the shock. He fumbled with the now blood stained piece of paper and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he made for a metal desk at the back of the room to take cover. Despite the severity of the injuries he was suffering he still became aware that his left foot was completely numb, and his right elbow felt like it had splintered.

Tom tucked in behind a metal cabinet, and smiled broadly at Zak. `Cool isn't it,' he said. `Cool! It's freezing. And I'm used to cold!' `Okay Zak. Prepare for Armageddon.'

Zak was grateful for Tom's casual attitude. It calmed him a little, for he was feeling a sensation he had never experienced in a game before - fear. He crouched behind the desk, waiting for the soldiers to burst through the doorway.

Zak checked the CCTV, and saw a stream of soldiers shuffling along the corridor outside. He expected them to appear at that moment, but a few seconds passed. Confused, he poked his head above the desk to check the situation.

Immediately, there was a hail of bullets, but he withdrew before any hit home. The barrage continued above him. He wondered if he was protected enough by the furniture, as the top of the metal desk was buckling as each bullet ripped into it. The wall behind him was taking hits, showering him with debris. There was such a noise, with the sound of the guns firing and the impact of the bullets, that he found he was squeezing his eyes tight shut in an effort to block it out. `Hey Zak!' shouted Tom. He was on the other side of the room, but Zak couldn't hear his voice through the air, only through the communication channel. `What are you doing! These soldiers are a lot smarter than the Spongeymen. Stick anything out, and it'll get taken off.' Zak could see Tom mouthing the words to accompany what he could hear. `When they stop firing, let's give them a burst of our own.'

Zak was relieved that his mistake hadn't cost him. He felt the weight of the machine gun. Steel, not plastic. He had wanted to fire one for a long time. The time finally came, as the soldiers stopped firing and withdrew to the door.

Zak and Tom jumped out simultaneously from their cover and let fly with the machine guns, causing the soldiers to scramble for cover.

Zak was flung back against the wall by the force of the recoil, but managed to keep the gun steady enough to keep it aimed at the soldiers confronting him. They jolted with the impact of each bullet, and fell to the floor as if finishing a crazy dance.

More soldiers arrived in the doorway. Zak picked them off before they could take a position. He held the machine gun up to use the sight. He could see the flash of each bullet leaving the barrel, and the spent cartridges flying out to the side. Rather than fire continuously, he darted around behind the desk and fired in short bursts when he saw any body part on show.

He was in both a thrill and a panic at this. Himself and Tom holed up in an enemy compound, fighting a raging battle. It was the stuff of dreams. But unlike his previous experiences, this was distressing. As he gripped the gun tightly, he found his right elbow was the dominant pain, but he was shivering violently with the cold, barely able to feel the gun in his hands. He was still choking and hobbling, and the noise was drowning out his attempt at concentration. Despite these afflictions, he judged himself to be making a good fist of the battle so far.

The soldiers kept coming. Zak wondered if the entire army was going to get mown down in this doorway. The latest soldiers to arrive on the scene were crouching behind the pile of dead bodies for cover.

Zak noticed that a significant amount of blood had been spilled, and the dark red glistened. How much longer could this go on? No longer, as the enemy changed its approach. An object was thrown into the room towards Tom. It was only the size of a pebble. It bounced off the top of the cabinet, hit the wall behind him and fell into his lap. He didn't see it until too late. It exploded with a flash of strobe light, and a low throb. Zak had shut his eyes in time, and opened them to see Tom sway around then lurch into the centre of the room. `Tom!' shouted Zak. But Tom was completely disorientated. A soldier opened fire on him from outside the doorway. He was thrown back against the wall, and hit it with a thump, making a tremendous groan on impact. Zak winced. But Tom didn't fall over. Instead, he fumbled for his gun, and let fly with a spray of bullets. As he did so, the response was more fire from outside.

Zak watched as Tom was thrown back against the wall again by the force of the barrage. His head was targeted. As the bullets ripped through his helmet, red and grey streaks coated the video sheet behind him.

Zak was transfixed. He had never seen that before. On TV, the bullets only punched little red holes in their victims. Here, his friend had been torn apart.

More soldiers burst through the doorway. Zak could not think.

Instead of keeping cover, he leapt up in front of them, hugging his gun. He squeezed the trigger, and steered the gun from side to side.

Bullets sprayed on the soldiers in front of him. They were all thrown back before they could react. Arms and legs flailed everywhere. As Zak waved the gun indiscriminately, the glass in the windows and doors shattered, desks and cabinets jolted and warped. The blood of the soldiers splattered all over what was left of the wall behind them.

He continued to fire, then realised there were no soldiers left standing. There was a movement from a prone soldier, and Zak steered his gun towards the floor. Just as he saw the soldier convulse from the impact, he felt a pop in his right side, followed by a burning pain. He noticed a gun slide out of the soldier's hands. There was a moment of lost consciousness, and he found himself lying on his back, behind the desk he was using for cover.

There was quiet again. The wave of enemy soldiers had ended.

Zak was breathing heavily, almost hyper-ventilating. His hands were shaking, and he realised that for the first time ever, he had lost control. He pushed himself to sit up, but pain exploded in his right side. He saw a dark red patch spreading across his grubby white suit, and let himself slump back onto the floor.

He waited a minute, then tried again. Grabbing the top of the desk he hauled himself upright, his face contorting with the agony.

He saw Tom crumpled in the opposite corner, and staggered across the room to get a closer look. The head was barely recognisable. The helmet and top of his head were missing, while his lower jaw appeared to be hanging off. The eyes were somehow still intact. Zak looked into them, and the look back was blank. Previously, he had only been able to see a mask when a team-mate or soldier was dead. All his life he'd been looking at the equivalent of stuffed toys.

Now, he was looking at a mutilated dead body. He suddenly felt very sick. `It's only a game,' he muttered, angry at himself for being so overwhelmed. He thought he should be enjoying this, but right now it was hell - all his wounds screamed for attention. He tried to get a grip on himself, but the pain battered every positive thought away.

Desperate for some respite, what had seemed unthinkable a few minutes ago, now became a serious temptation.

He plunged a shaking hand into his pocket, and pulled out the piece of paper with the cheat code. The paper was sticky from the blood and the writing was smeared.

He searched for the book. The wall was riddled with bullet holes and shrapnel, but the video sheet was still active, displaying its content as before, except that most of it was unreadable or missing.

He found the image of the book. A bullet had lodged right in the middle of the entry form, warping the sheet around it. To his frustration, he couldn't interface with the computer in order to simply move the book.

The keyboards had been scattered, and some were in pieces. Zak hit keys on the usable ones until he found the one that generated characters in the entry form. The letters appeared as a mangled mess.

He cleared the form and attempted to deactivate the cheat in the standard way, by entering the code backwards.

An unreadable message appeared, but nothing happened. He checked the piece of paper, but some of the writing was no longer clear. He thought that maybe one of the letters was an R, not a B, but he couldn't remember. He retyped it using R, and this time received a different but still unreadable message. In despair at not being able to read the code, what he was typing, or the message, Zak slammed both fists down on the desk. He let out another cry of pain.

A voice came over the communication channel. `Hey, how's it going?' said Van, with excitement in his voice. `It's a disaster,' replied Zak, coughing to clear his throat. `Oh,' said Van, surprised. `I'm having a great time. I shot a Spongey off the top of the tower, and the cheat came on as he was falling. By the time he hit the ground he'd turned human.' `Yeah great,' said Zak flatly. `But Tom's dead, and I'm injured all over.' `Tom already! How was his death?' `His head was shot off.' `Brilliant!' said Van, laughing. `Gotta see the vid of that.'

Zak wasn't seeing the funny side. `I don't think I can carry on,' he moaned. `I want to turn off the cheat.' `What!' snapped Van, `You have to carry on,' he said sternly. `Are you injured yet?' asked Zak. `No.' `Then you don't know what you're talking about.'

Zak heard Van tutting. This annoyed him. He stood head bowed, hands on desk, breathing deeply, hoping for the throbbing pain to subside a little. Just as it did, he coughed, and that ignited all the pain again. `This is what it's all about Zak,' said Van. `It's what we've been waiting for. I can't believe you're complaining.' `I'm not complaining,' said Zak. `I just didn't realise it would be this gruesome.' `It's meant to be realistic,' said Van. `What you see on TV has all the bad bits turned off.'

Zak groaned as his back reminded him that it too was in pain.

`It can't be this bad even in real life.' `Get a grip for god's sake,' said Van. `Now I want to see what this General's doing to our VIP. So if you turn off that cheat I'll come down and shoot you myself.'

Zak didn't reply. He remained there, absorbing Van's rebuke.

There was the rattle of machine guns over the communication channel. Van had returned to business.

Zak stood upright. It was not the respite he had hoped for, but the conversation had enabled him to get his brain in gear.

He realised what he had done.

Why had he tried to quit? When they reviewed the mission later, they would all see it. So much for his ambition. He'd cried off within the first five minutes. How would he live that down.

So, lucky for him he couldn't turn the cheat off it meant he had a second chance. A chance to regain some respect before facing the others again. Either he completed the mission or experienced death.

And he wasn't the type to commit suicide.

He took a deep breath, which helped to ease the fire raging within him, and lifted up his gun ready for action.

*

Zak stepped out of the Communications room into the corridor outside. The battle had created quite a mess. The bullets had torn into the windows and walls, leaving the floor covered in broken glass and masonry, with dust drifting in the air. He tried to move quietly, stepping over the fallen soldiers, but debris on the floor crunched beneath his feet.

He stumbled as he stepped on a chunk of masonry. The bullet wound in his side reacted worst, and a blob of blood oozed out of the hole in his suit. He wiped it with his gloved right hand, and held up his palm to take a closer look at the blood. He'd never had much more than a dribble from a cut in real life, so he was fascinated to see a handful. But his glove had been showered with dust and grit, congealing the blood into a kind of paste. He wiped it off on the front of his suit.

His objective was to make his way to the South Tower, and draw soldiers out from its defence. This would make Van's job so much easier, and give them a chance of completing the mission. He was unable to move at much more than a stagger, but he pushed on, hoping he would get there in time to make a difference.

It wasn't long before he encountered more soldiers. Advancing slowly through the corridors, he found the defenders spread out and stubborn in holding position. But with growing composure, he battled through the pain and dealt with them ever more swiftly.

Now Zak started to enjoy himself a little. The atmosphere was fantastic - a grim setting, deafening noise, blood and destruction - this was real war! Not that he knew what real war was like.

The thrill was numbing the pain. But he wasn't so keen on the stench. It smelt like a sewer.

After getting so into it, he was somewhat disappointed when Van called in with news of his progress. `Hey Zak, I've made it to the top. Thanks for taking some of the heat off. I'm going to burst in, do the business, and hopefully I'll be joining you with one VIP.'

Zak listened in as Van launched his assault. There was a single burst of machine gun fire, followed by an exchange of fire which lasted a few seconds. Then, a gargling scream, unmistakably Van's. `Van?' shouted Zak.

There was no reply.

Zak puffed his cheeks. It was all down to him. If he could pull this off…

He continued on inside the castle towards the South Tower, but it took him some ten minutes and several confrontations to reach the base of it. The entrance to the tower led to a wide stone staircase that spiralled upwards.

He looked forlornly at the steep steps. He had used all his energy just to get to this point. But it was the only way to go.

Cautiously, machine gun held at eye level, he made his way up.

After a minute of dizzy climbing he encountered a body spread-eagled over several steps. It was Van, on his back and upside down. His body was riddled with bullet wounds and blood trickled out of his mouth up into his hair. His eyes were open, staring blankly. Zak was wary of a trap. He kept his gun ready, and made to step past. `Zaaa…' groaned Van. Zak was so startled he nearly fell backwards down the stairs. `Woah. You're still alive,' said Zak. `Oh god Zak,' said Van, barely audible. `I'm in terrible pain.' `Don't complain Van,' said Zak. He grinned, but it made his throat flare up.

Van tried to move, but his body just twitched, and he groaned again. `Zak. Shoot me dead,' he said. `What! Get over it, we'll be finished in a few minutes.' `No please. I'm in agony,' said Van, shuddering as he spoke. `So am I,' said Zak. He stepped past Van, and started climbing the stairs again.

Van summoned up the strength to protest. `Don't leave me here, Zak. What if you end up like this? We'll be stuck here.' Van took another deep breath. `Kill me now, and if I see you in trouble, I'll end the mission.'

Zak turned back to face Van. `How?' he asked.

Van's mouth contorted, but Zak couldn't tell if it was a smile. `I'll call your mum.'

Zak squirmed. But Van's condition convinced him that it was worth keeping the option open.

He aimed the gun at Van. But as he was about to pull the trigger he felt his skin crawl. He couldn't do it. He let the aim drift. `Trust me Zak,' implored Van.

Zak took a deep breath and aimed the gun again. The words of Van's last jibe ran through his mind, and this gave him the spark to pull the trigger.

As Van's body went limp, Zak suddenly felt very sick again. He stared at Van, almost in a daze.

`Drop the gun,' said a voice from behind. `Hands up.'

Zak snapped back into full alertness and lowered the gun. `Drop it!' came the shout from behind.

Zak knew that even he wasn't quick enough to turn and shoot before getting shot himself. He decided to do as instructed. He loosened the grip on the machine gun, and let it fall, clattering down the steps. Slowly, he lifted his hands. `Turn around!' said the voice.

Zak slowly turned around. He faced a guard, training a machine gun on his head. Zak was alarmed at the casual demeanour of the guard, who wore no helmet and had a cigarette hanging from his mouth. `Killing your own side eh? Interesting tactic,' said the guard, who then spoke via his own communication channel. `I've got him General.' `Bring him in,' came the reply.

The guard motioned Zak up the steps, then harassed him to move quickly. It took a minute for Zak to reach the top, by which time he was utterly exhausted from his pains. The guard ushered him through a door.

The room inside appeared to be the one room in the castle whose elegance was retained. Desks, chairs and bookcases all gleamed with polish and fine finishings. This despite being occupied by a group of military personnel. There were various uniforms on show, all belonging to men. Most sat round the desks, and a few stood by open windows.

Zak was startled to see one non-military person. Sitting on the floor in the corner, a man in a business suit, bound and gagged, with an expression of concern in his eyes. Judging by the long legs and huge feet protruding in front of him, Zak assumed he was the VIP.

Zak felt a simultaneous wave of both fear and excitement.

Captured alive! He'd never experienced this in a game before. He wondered what they were going to do to him, and whether he would have any chance now of completing the mission.

Only one of the men there could be General Arkanovich. One stout man bearing a patchwork of honours sat at the front of the largest desk, resting one foot on a chair, and even smoking a cigar for good measure. He leant forward to stand up, then ambled over to Zak, stopping so close that he towered over him. Zak gagged at the stink of cigar smoke. `So, a rescue squad eh?' boomed the General. His accent was an equal mix of East European and American. He smirked, and glanced over at the VIP. `Come to rescue this big fella? Well we're not finished with him yet. He's not volunteered any information, so we're going to have to squeeze it out of him.' The VIP squirmed at this remark. `And while we're at it, we may as well squeeze you as well.

Aha ha ha!'

He turned and laughed to his men, until they all joined in.

Then he stopped laughing abruptly and sneered at Zak. `Your mission has failed!'

Zak was intimidated, but couldn't help answering back. `The mission isn't over yet,' he retorted. His slimy throat made his words high pitched.

The General blinked in disbelief, and snorted. `What kind of pipsqueak soldier are you?' he said with contempt.

He leant over, put his hand to Zak's neck, grabbed the back of his helmet and ripped it off. He was taken aback when he saw Zak's face. `Whaat!' he said softly. `What's this? A boy!' His voice rose with anger. `Pretending to be a man!'

Zak felt the freezing temperature bite again, and a heaviness in his stomach. He was alarmed by this reaction. How could the characters in the game be aware that he was a child? The General turned to one of his men, an aide. `We must report this to High Command,' he said angrily.

Zak wondered if that actually meant reporting use of the cheat.

This was not good news.

The General looked at Zak with pity. `Is the Alliance that desperate that it's sending children to do its dirty work? Even we let our children grow up! You should be playing games with mud guns and monsters, not fighting wars. That's a man's job.'

The aide approached the General and whispered in his ear. The General frowned. `You're in luck!' said the General. `It seems we are not allowed to shoot children in cold blood. But let me tell you what I think boy.

You and your comrades have come here, gunned down dozens of my men and wrecked my castle. I don't think you deserve to be shown any mercy. What do you say?'

Zak still harboured the thought there was a way he could complete the mission, so made an assessment. He counted nine healthy people armed with machine guns, whereas he was battered and completely unarmed. Without the cover of his helmet, the wind blowing through the open windows attacked his senses, and left his exposed ears very sore - yet another affliction. At some point he would surely drop dead from the accumulated damage. `You're the bad guys?' he ventured.

The General turned and nodded to the guard who had escorted Zak in. He strode up to Zak and walloped the butt of his gun into the bullet wound in Zak's right side.

Zak screamed. His body convulsed, and he collapsed to the floor.

Waves of piercing pain enveloped his body. If that wasn't unpleasant enough, he was sick, he was dizzy, he was distressed at losing control.

Up till now the pain had been just bearable. But this was gut wrenching, and his body seized up as all the muscles pulled tight.

It was too much. He tried to open his eyes and return to the comfort of home, but the only eyes that opened were his in-game eyes. Of course, he could not quit. Neither could he think straight, his mind was spinning. Thoughts raced and churned over. It was desperate. He needed help. `Van!' he screamed. `I quit I quit I quit!'

The General shook his head disapprovingly. `Van!' screamed Zak again. `Help me. Tom. Get me out!' `Hello, what's this?' said the General. `A packed lunch?' He squatted next to Zak, and pulled the rucksack off his back. Zak hardly noticed.

`Ah, ski-jet boots,' said the General. `For our friend here. I hope these boots are big enough, have you seen the size of his feet? It doesn't matter, I can tell you that he won't be going anywhere on them. But the jets could prove useful, in case we need to burn his skin. Aha ha ha.'

There was laughter all round. Zak continued to writhe on the floor.

The General stood up, and threw the rucksack to his aide. His laugh turned to a grimace. `I've never seen such an ill-prepared bunch of commandos,' he said. `Did you think you could just march in, all guns blazing? Didn't you have any kind of plan? Any kind of strategy?'

Zak was no longer able to listen. He tried to think of what he could say that would release him from his torment. `Help me,' he groaned. `End it please.' `I'm very disappointed in you boy,' said the General. `You bring shame on yourself. You see in war, you cannot quit. In war, it is a fight to the death. You either win, or die.' He rubbed his chin. `But seeing as you are so desperate to meet your end, I will show you mercy.' He motioned to the guard. `Show the boy the elevator.'

The guard put his arms under Zak, and picked him up like a baby.

Zak tried to struggle, but couldn't find the co-ordination to even wiggle his arms and legs about. He tried to think of a way to complete the mission, but was too disorientated to even know where the General was, never mind attack him. But as he was spun round, one image did make it into his head, that of the VIP cowering with utter terror in his eyes. The look so shocked him that it seared itself into his mind, remaining there as he was carried away.

Zak suddenly found himself looking up at the sky, then felt the arms release him. A rush of cold air billowed into his suit, as the top of the tower came into view, then withdrew into the distance, like a rocket taking off. He was falling. In panic he turned over away from the wall to see himself approaching the icy grounds of the castle at high speed. There was no time to think any further. He heard a thump, then all went black. His entire body screamed again.

Surely that was it - the death!

But his body wouldn't shut up. He thought he would be released immediately. Had he entered virtual limbo? An uncomfortable sensation on the back of his neck made him jolt. It was water, trickling down. He turned his head round and worked it out - he had plunged into a snow drift against the castle wall. He was still alive!

Zak so wished he wasn't.

As he moved, he wondered how it could possibly be. Besides the pain, he sensed his right arm moving in the opposite direction to what he intended. Now he could tick off broken bones!

He tried to heave himself up, as much to try and break his own body as get out. He hooked his left hand into the snow wall above him.

The snow gave way, and he collapsed to the bottom of his hole.

Zak's groans were by now barely audible. Would anyone ever find him here? Maybe if he stayed put, Van and Tom would get bored, and end it.

He curled up.

Two shameful attempts to quit. He might rather stay here, in his misery, than face the others. Did he really want to do this for a living? True-To-Life was nothing like the junior version. Skye was right, he would never play it again.

He had heard the warning, but the message didn't get through.

How many others rushed to play True-To-Life, and suffered the same fate. Well, Van for one he begged to quit also. Maybe this happens to everyone, but they can't all be giving up.

Could he bring himself to have another go? Could he learn to cope? His whole body throbbed, as if to make its feelings known. But the sensation had numbed slightly, losing its edge. Perhaps deep in his subconscious, his mind knew that it was not his real body crumpled in a heap, despite the Mind Mat feeding it all the correct signals.

For every person he could outlast, he would rise a place in the world rankings. And once a game was over, there would be no harm done.

This mission had failed miserably. But it was rare that the team completed a mission first-time round. It was a game. You fail, you have another go. Tom's strategy had been all wrong. Next time, Zak would keep the three of them together.

Voices snapped him out of his line of thought. They were foreign, the General's soldiers patrolling nearby. The game had carried on without his active involvement. Maybe there was still a chance he could do something.

Zak wanted to win. He recognised himself again.

A new thought entered his head. He was ambitious. He wanted to be a professional V-Commando. But would achieving that really satisfy him? Maybe he wanted more out of life.

It was time to bring the game to a conclusion. He was coping, but the pain was still deeply unpleasant. Rather than wait there and die alone, he would make one last, if futile attack.

He put all his effort into scrambling out of the hole. His limbs flailed, and not every one was capable of applying force. But as he pushed, the snow gave way, and he tumbled out and onto hard ice.

Right at the feet of a soldier. `Hey!' shouted the soldier with alarm, alerting two comrades also in the area.

Zak sprang to his feet.

The soldier brought his rifle up, but Zak was on him, slamming into his chest and headbutting him in the mouth. It was crude, but it knocked the soldier off balance. Zak felt him slip on the ice.

As they lurched together, Zak got a hand to the barrel, and parried it. The gun went off, sweeping a burst of automatic fire across the direction of an approaching comrade. Down he went.

As they spun round, Zak bore the weight of the soldier. He skidded as he tried to stay upright. The remaining soldier came into view, lining up his sights Zak let himself fall.

More shots cracked out. Zak heard a cry in his ear.

As the soldier rolled over him, Zak was pulled up onto his feet.

He had his left hand on the barrel of the gun, the soldier had let go, and his comrade was reloading. What a chance this was!

Right hand to trigger. But the hand pointed the wrong way the limb was snapped.

He wedged the butt under his right arm and tried to hook his left forefinger round the trigger.

He felt the tip of his gloved finger touch the side of the trigger, but in pushing to get it through the loop, nudged it sideways. The rifle slithered out of his grasp, falling to the ground.

The last soldier was ready again. Zak looked him in the eyes, and accepted his fate. The soldier fired.

Every bullet exploded into Zak's chest. He was knocked back with such force he hit the ground hard and skidded several metres on the ice.

He tried to move again, but he had no breath, and no sense of body. There was nothing he could do. His conscious self seemed to drop out of his head and roll backwards, before falling into a deep hole.

Before he could make sense of that, his real eyes opened. He was back in his bedroom again. It was warm, and he was suffering no pain.

He leapt out of the chair and checked himself all over, laughing incredulously. There were no marks or soreness. Of course there wouldn't be. It had all been experienced through the mind. `This is one hell of a game!' he shouted.

His friends were waiting for him. Three windows open on the bedroom wall. `Nice effort!' said Tom.

Zak opened and closed his fists, to relieve tension in his hands, the only physical aftereffect. `Thanks for not ending it Van,' he said. `That's okay,' said Van. `I enjoyed your pain.'

Zak would choose another day to get back at Van. `Can't believe I screwed up so early,' said Tom. `I was supposed to help you through it.' `No matter,' said Zak. `I realise I had to go through that. And it's changed things. I've decided that I want to be more than just a professional V-Commando player.'

His friends faces dropped. They looked puzzled. `You're not giving up are you?' said Tom. `No. I'm gonna be World Champion,' declared Zak.

A few moments passed, while Zak let everyone digest his statement. `Oh that,' said Tom. `Yeah it's funny, lots of people say that after their first go on True-To-Life. It must be the emotion.' `Huh?' said Zak. `But that's the right attitude anyway,' said Tom. `Unlike most people, you do have a chance.' `Good,' said Zak with relief. `I'm not going to tell my family though. That's the last thing they want to hear. Trouble is, they'll keep an eye on me now, so sooner or later there's gonna be a big fall out. But what can they do? As long as I'm on this planet I can hook in somehow.'

He shook his head. `No. They'll never stop me.'

Chapter 1: Not Mars!

11:30am Friday 25 December 2084

`Your unofficial world ranking,' said Tom, with a rapidly growing smile, `is 10,360. That's about 20,000 places above me.'

Zak leapt out of his chair. `Brilliant!' he shouted, shaking his fists in triumph. `Let's put that into perspective,' said Tom. `You've only been playing True-To-Life for six weeks. Most of the people above you have played for years. And there's seventeen million registered players.'

Zak took deep breaths, and paced around the tiny clear floor space in his bedroom. `On the other hand it shows you how tough it is at the top,' said Tom, `considering you are near perfection now.' `I know I can get a lot better,' said Zak, pointing at Tom on the wall. `It will be years of hard work. But you can go all the way.' `The next target is the top 10,000. What's the chance of making that today?' `Well the ranking bonus for completing the game won't be enough,' said Tom, `But if we do this last mission in a super-quick time, that should push you up there.' `Then what are we waiting for?'

Zak threw himself back onto the gaming chair, and in a single movement brought the chair horizontal. He slammed his head back onto the Mind Mat, and shut his eyes tight.

*

11:58am Friday 25 December 2084 Zak reached the Presidential Office of Victory Palace. Fired up by his ranking report, he had rampaged through the mission. He had led his team to the gates of the heavily guarded Palace, then split them up to launch a four pronged assault. As expected, he had reached the top first.

He stopped to assess the situation. President Erslan would be within the Office, no doubt accompanied by a force from the Presidential Guard. Large oak doors were the obvious way in.

His health was adequate, given the advanced stage of the mission.

The only significant damage was a bullet through his right thigh. The leg was missing a chunk, somewhere under the blood-soaked rag of his trousers. But he was still mobile. He had learned to ignore the pain, and let adrenaline drive him on. Injuries did not count against his ranking, only the end result.

He took a deep breath to clear his mind. `Zak!' came a voice.

The call struck him with fear. Not that he was afraid of any horror the game could throw at him. `Zak, are you there?'

It wasn't a team-mate. The voice was distant and echoed. It was his mum calling. `Oh god!' he cried. `Not now.' `Don't tell me she's only just realised,' said Van. `I've locked the bedroom door. That should keep her at bay for a while,' said Zak. `But she must be communicating through the Mind Mat.'

Zak had been expecting this for the last six weeks. But what timing!

Better get this done as quick as possible, thought Zak. He launched his attack, throwing two grenades at the oak doors. The explosions ripped off the doors and the surrounding masonry, filling the air with smoke and dust. He dived through the resultant hole and rolled onto the floor.

On this mission, Zak carried an automatic rifle. His tactic with it was straightforward, but required great skill. Each three round burst of gunfire was directed in a trajectory to hit three targets. It was an approach pioneered by his hero, Abel White. Zak had practised it to the point where it was now being carried out by his subconscious. A dotted line of enemy heads would flash in his mind, and he would guide the three bullets along it.

After each burst, he dived to the floor again, to take cover behind the large oval table. Despite there being a dozen or so bodyguards, he had killed them all within seconds.

For most players, overcoming the Presidential Guard was the big end to the game. He had supposedly done the hard part, the game was effectively won. Now for the civilian President, the formality needed to clinch it. `Zak, we need you here,' insisted Mum. `I'm nearly finished!' shouted Zak. `I told you not to play today.'

Zak had to finish before she did anything drastic.

There was a single door leading from the room. Zak stepped through it into another room dominated by a large desk, but no sign of the President. A handgun suddenly appeared round the side, but Zak shot it away. There was a scream, but he knew he hadn't killed the President, as the game had not ended. `Don't shoot!' begged the President. `Haven't you heard about the ceasefire agreed at Helsinki?'

Zak had lost interest in the plot. He wanted to finish it right now.

With plenty of ammunition left, Zak started shooting and circled round the desk. `Damn!'

The President had disappeared down a trapdoor.

Zak ran to the square hole and fired a burst down into it. But still the game did not end.

Mum's voice spoiled the sound of the gunfire. `I'm not waiting Zak,' she said, and repeated.

The trapdoor led to a passageway. Zak jumped down and fired along it, but it only ran for a short distance before steps led down. He sprinted to the edge.

The President was hurtling down the steps. He had made some distance, but they stretched a long way. Zak lifted the rifle to take aim, and put his foot on the first step down to steady himself.

He squeezed the trigger. Gunfire rang out, but he was blinded by a white flash. The gun disappeared out of his hands and he tumbled forwards.

Was it the end of the game? No. This was wrong.

The steps had gone. Zak found himself hitting a plain white floor.

He rolled over and bounded to his feet, to be confronted by a scene that left him bewildered. `What's all this about!' he cried, furious that he had not seen the outcome of his last shot. `Good afternoon Zak,' came the voice of Dad. `Glad you could make it.'

Zak's physical body still rested on the Mind Mat. But his mind had been pulled into another virtual environment.

The scene was a three-dimensional family portrait. Taken two years ago, just before he became cool, Zak hated it. Above the portrait hung a banner with the phrase "The Carter family future". Zak realised that Dad had put together some kind of presentation. He peered around the side of the portrait to see the awkward way they had their hands resting on each other, and cringed. `I can't believe you've done this to me!' `Relax Zak,' said Dad, in a calming tone. `You'll soon forget about whatever it was you were doing. We have very important news, that will change your life forever.'

Zak simply gasped in disbelief. He tried to open his real eyes, in order to return to the real world. It didn't work. ` Quit is disabled Zak,' said Dad. `I don't want you or Skye running off halfway through.'

Zak was desperate to find out what had happened in the game, but Dad's restrictions prevented him from communicating with Tom.

He would have to wait until the news had been delivered. `I hope the future doesn't involve me looking like that,' said Skye, also horrified by the portrait. `Okay kids,' said Mum, `be quiet now and let Dad say what he's got to say.'

The portrait faded out, and another scene faded in.

All four of them were standing in a flat and empty icy landscape, with daylight dimmed by low cloud and swirling winds. Each was dressed in thick winter wear with goggles. Zak looked around, and could see patterns in the ice.

Dad opened his arms to the scene around him. `Home!' he said.

He smiled, waiting for the reaction. Zak was the first to speak. `Dad, this is obviously the North Pole, not Warwickshire,' he quipped. `It's not Warwickshire now Zak, but it's what Warwickshire will look like in thirty years time.'

Another pause followed, as Zak and Skye appeared to be taken aback. `I don't believe that for a minute,' said Zak. He felt the need to say something just to break the stunned silence. `What makes you think it's going to be like this?' `It's not what I think Zak, it's what scientists around the world are predicting,' said Dad confidently. `The world is entering an Ice Age, and this will be the result.'

Suddenly, they found themselves in the street outside their house.

It was a sunny day, but they still wore their winter clothes. The threestory terraced houses stretched in both directions. The odd motor car was dotted around - a few people still owned those. Then, almost instantly, the sky went grey and snow started to fall. Beneath them, the snow settled and quickly accumulated. Zak realised that the scene was progressing at time-lapse speed, each second covering several days.

As the snowfall intensified, the snow underfoot began to rise, and the four of them rose with it. The motor cars disappeared one by one, presumably, Zak thought, to represent their owners getting rid of them. But one remained, and it was soon submerged under the rising sheet of snow.

The sound of a window smashing made Zak and Skye jump. But the sound became frequent as more windows followed. Zak was startled to see that the windows on their own house had become boarded up, but again, that pattern followed quickly throughout the street. The family stood there, continuing to rise.

As they neared the top of the houses, they could see huge piles of snow on the roofs. As the piles continued to grow, some of the roofs collapsed, causing the houses below to disintegrate into debris. In just a short time, the sheet beneath the family had risen to chimney level.

Around them, on houses that had withstood the crush, the chimneys began to detach themselves, and disintegrate in a streak across what was now ground level.

Now, they could see across their town. There was little left except a smattering of treetops, the odd church spire and the tall buildings of the business district, with their hated 2040s architecture.

The pace quickened. With less to get in the way, the sheet below them rose, flattened and hardened, gobbling up the few remaining remnants of human civilisation. The last to disappear was perhaps the oldest part of town, the cross on a spire on the top of a hill.

Time appeared to return to normal, and they found themselves facing the same scene as at the start.

Zak slouched, with his arms folded. `What a load of rubbish!' he declared. `It's not rubbish Zak,' said Dad. `It has happened many times before, and it will happen again.' `But how can this be Dad?' said Skye. `We've been taught that the world has been getting warmer for a hundred years, and that the last few years are just a blip.' `For a long time scientists did believe it was a blip,' said Dad. `There are several forces that battle to pull the climate between hot and cold, and they had predicted that for the next hundred years also, the forces bringing heat would dominate. But we've now had ten successive years of cold winters, and the effects of that alone seem to be triggering a runaway freeze.' `But the snow melts in the summer,' said Zak, `so how can it build up like this?' `The new predictions state that it will get a lot colder. The winters will become longer, and it will get harder to clear the ice. When we give up trying, we'll be overrun in a matter of years.' `Well,' said Zak, feeling a bit fazed, `you must regret building the swimming pool now.'

Surprisingly, Dad laughed at this. `I'm a fair bit older than you all,' he said, `so I can remember what it's been like here the last forty years. It used to be hot. Ah, we had some great summers, didn't we dear.' `Oh it was wonderful,' said Mum, sighing. `I think it's a shame,' said Skye. `Heat is much more desirable.

Why don't they just pump more pollution in the air, that'll sort it out.' `Well Skye,' said Dad, `there's a lot of important people arguing about what to do.'

Zak was getting impatient. `So Dad, have you got any more interesting footage, the North Pole's getting a bit boring now.' `Oh yes,' said Dad, as if he'd forgotten.

The desolate ice morphed into a lovely beach. The sun was beating down, the air was baking and there wasn't a breeze. The sea shone a brilliant turquoise, and along the beachfront was a row of tasteful little cafés, with plenty of people, but not too many, relaxing in various ways. A couple of musicians played from under a canopy.

To his horror, Zak found himself wearing a multicoloured striped shirt and shorts. `Yessss!' shrieked Skye, in a smart bikini. `We're moving to Africa.'

Dad answered her from beneath a wide brimmed hat that cast shade over a beige shirt and trousers. `It's a nice idea Skye, moving to Africa. But we can't.'

Skye's beaming smile quickly turned into a frown. `The problem is,' continued Dad, `the Africans won't have us.

Neither will the South Americans, nor the Asians, nor the Australians.'

Skye's frown became a look of disappointed surprise. `Oh,' she said. `Have we not been very nice to them?' `Not really. I said it used to be hot. Well it was very hot. A large swathe of land around the equator became almost uninhabitable.

Unfortunately, our predecessors in Northern Europe wouldn't take in those people affected,' explained Dad. `What! How selfish, I can't believe that,' said Skye.

`We're talking billions of people Skye,' scoffed Zak. `These are difficult times, Skye,' continued Dad, tolerating her remark. `People don't like being forced to give up their space to strangers. It creates conflict. It was true then and it's true now.'

Zak found that he was listening seriously to what his dad had to say. It was strange to hear him speak with authority. He always seemed to be the very opposite of authority, bumbling around, never getting Zak and Skye under control. He never shouted at them, or even spoke sternly. Zak found him a bit embarrassing at times, but in his heart he knew he had a good dad, who at the very least, was clear about right and wrong. Still, Zak felt it was his duty to make barbed comments. `So why are you showing us this beach?' asked Zak. `To rub it in?'

A group of surfers walked by, clearly having a great time. Dad frowned. `It's just to say that this was our first choice,' he said. `We applied for residency in all the Southern political blocs Africa, America, Asia, Australasia, but were rejected.'

Zak and Skye glanced at each other nervously. Zak suspected that whatever choice Dad had been left with was not a promising one.

Skye then grabbed a bright green cocktail from the drinks tray of a passing waiter, and took a swig. `Yeeuch!' she screamed, and spat it out. `Oh sorry,' said Dad. `I didn't have time to set everything up properly. That's probably beer. Anyway, onto the next scene.' `Wait a minute Dad,' said Zak. `I've got it! You work in the construction industry, so you're going to build us an igloo on top of the ice.' `Well Zak, that's very perceptive of you,' Dad smiled. `As it happens, we will be living in one of my mobile housing units.'

The scene started to change again. It only took a few seconds to fade the old one out and the new one in. But during that transition, a moment of realisation descended on the two children. Time suddenly seemed to slow down in Zak's mind, as he absorbed the meaning of Dad's remark. Dad designed mobile housing units. It was so obvious, it was amazing he hadn't considered the prospect before. Almost in unison, Zak and his sister let out a cry. `Noooooo!'

The next scene crystallised. Whether it was an animated or static scene was hard to tell. A two-storey mobile housing unit stood in front of them, a bulbous steel cube with round port-holes. Around them was a desolate landscape, with no sign of life and no weather to cause movement. Everything was bathed in a deep red hue. This was because Dad's mobile housing units were built for only one purpose living on Mars. The children were aghast, and hadn't even noticed they were wearing boiler suits.

Zak was the first to recover his composure. `Dad, you have got to be joking. You're not taking us to live on Mars.' `Well Zak,' said Dad, nervously, `I'm disappointed in your reaction. I thought at least you might find it an exciting idea.' `But look at it!' said Zak, pointing around. `It's a dead red dustbowl. Only crazy people come and live here!' `It's not like that at all…Skye, don't cry,' said Dad, getting anxious after the unanimous reaction. `Your mother didn't cry, did you dear?' `So Mum doesn't want to come either,' said Zak angrily, sensing the argument was going one way. `Now look!' Dad started to raise his voice, and it quivered. `We have no choice but to move. In the next few decades, our homes and our towns are going to be crushed by glaciers advancing from the North. Those who stay are deluding themselves. There won't be any igloos on the ice, because the snows will relentlessly cover anything we build.'

Dad continued, his voice growing more emotional.

`If any of you had ever taken much notice of my job, you would have seen this coming. Who do you think is buying these housing units? People are starting to move to Mars in their droves. We Northern Europeans are lucky. When our predecessors turned away the refugees they had to return home and suffer. Now that it's our misfortune, we have a way out, and it's to go to Mars.'

He paused, but nobody responded. From the look on the faces of Zak and Skye, there was some sort of reluctant acceptance of what he was saying. His tone changed, calming down and becoming more measured. `The Scandinavians were the first. It didn't take long for that part of the world to be affected. They saw the writing on the wall soon enough and didn't wait for the scientists' conclusions. Most emigrants to Mars now are Scandinavians, and the company I work for is selling the units that enable them to live there. They've filled it with flat-pack furniture of course, although our units are also assembled on site.'

Dad lifted his head proudly. `But Dad,' said Zak weakly. `No buts! I've been offered relocation to Mars, and I've decided to accept it,' said Dad. `But Dad,' tried Zak again. `I won't be able to play VCommando.'

Dad reacted with puzzlement. `Of course you will,' he said. `You'll be able to get all your entertainment.' `But I won't be able to play in the Earth League,' protested Zak. `Once you get away from Earth, communication time makes it impossible.' `Isn't there a Mars League?' inquired Dad, as if stating the obvious. `Yeah,' said Zak. `But the standard is very low.' `Then maybe you'll have a chance of winning,' said Dad, unhelpfully.

Zak lifted his hands in despair. `You don't understand do you. I want to be a professional V-Commando player. I need to compete against the best, or I'll never get good enough.' He shook his head. `This is a disaster!' `Zak!' said Mum impatiently, `We can't change our plans just because of your pipe dream.'

Zak sighed again, loudly. `Zak only thinks of himself,' said Skye. `What about me? I've got to leave my social life behind, to go and live in a shack in the middle of nowhere.'

Mum shrieked in frustration. `We didn't take this decision lightly,' she said sternly. `Originally, we weren't going to move until you were both adults.'

She sighed. `But in the last year, we've come to despise living in England. It's becoming a miserable place. The run-in with your school was the last resort.' `So this is all Zak's fault!' said Skye, turning menacingly towards him.

Zak stepped back. Was this all his fault? `Zak ignored the warning from school to improve,' said Mum. `He played his game instead of doing his homework. It wasn't hard to notice. So as expected, we received an official note yesterday to say that he has been excluded. We knew there would be no way back with that lot, so had already made our plans.'

Skye maintained her threatening glare.

Dad raised his hands as if to calm everyone down. `I think we're missing the point here,' he said sweetly, trying to break the stand-off. `You might love it.'

The front door of the housing unit opened, and a dark brown dog with floppy ears bounded out towards them, barking joyfully. `What's Rover doing here?' said Zak, confused. `He's coming with us,' said Dad cheerfully. `Great,' said Zak, still with despair in his voice. `But what's he doing here now? You haven't strapped a Mind Mat to his head have you?'

`Don't be stupid,' said Dad. `It's a perfect avatar of Rover, but it's controlled by artificial intelligence.'

Knowing it wasn't really Rover, Zak ignored the creature.

He gazed into the sky, and found he only needed to squint slightly to be able to stare at the Sun, which appeared much smaller than from Earth. He noticed an object emerging over a hill. It was a plane, but its wings were so long that Zak had trouble making out the cabin.

With an instant scene change, they found themselves sitting in the plane. Its tiny cabin only had seats for the four of them, squeezed behind the cockpit, but gave them a breathtaking view of a huge plain banked by mountains. They were approaching a city.

Involuntarily, both Zak and Skye gasped. `We won't be living in the middle of nowhere,' said Dad, smugly.

The skyline was dominated by three large domes, but countless housing units were lined up in blocks across the surrounding landscape. There were no highways, and only a handful of vehicles moved across the open terrain.

Zak noticed that there were no pedestrians. He knew that in reality, it was not possible to survive out in the open on Mars, as they were doing in this virtual presentation. Dad must have deliberately obscured that problem. Life on Mars was one of confinement to relatively small spaces. But then it occurred to him that he spent most of his spare time in his bedroom. `And don't forget, we'll also have a magnificent journey through space to get here,' said Dad. `Travelling into space is absolutely fantastic. I've been to Mars once before if you remember. I can't wait to make the journey again.'

If Zak had no plans, he would have welcomed the news - a new planet, a new adventure. But he already had an exciting future planned. His career had been plotted in detail. He had worked hard to get into that position. How could they take a decision like this, without even asking him? Could he have prevented it - if he hadn't hid himself away for the last six weeks?

The thought that all he had worked for was to come to nothing, caused him to well up with anger.

He got up from his seat and pulled open the door to the cockpit.

The pilot looked up at him with surprise. Zak punched him across the face, knocking him clean out. `Zak!' roared Mum.

Zak dragged the unconscious pilot onto the floor, then climbed into the seat. He grabbed the control wheel and pushed forwards, directing the plane downwards. `Zak!' roared Mum again, now right into his earhole.

He winced, but was undeterred. He had no plan. He just wanted to scare everyone.

The plane quickly reached a steep angle, filling the view with the city below. A cacophony of voices now shouted at him to stop. Mum lost her balance and tumbled forward into the front of the cockpit. `Right now!' she screamed.

Zak was almost on top of the control wheel. He brought his feet up and put them either side of it, then pulled back.

The largest dome grew in the middle of the cockpit window. `Hey Skye, can you see what shops they've got?' said Zak straining.

He glanced behind to see Skye and Dad with their eyes shut, clenching whatever furniture they could hang on to.

Zak laughed. But the plane would not pull up. `Uh-oh,' he said.

In a matter of seconds, the hexagonal framework making up the dome filled his vision, as the plane hurtled towards it.

Zak was aware of a loud smash. It was long and drawn out, as if slow-motion. He was thrown forwards and through the glass.

He felt no impact on his body. This was a family program. If it were truly realistic, he would have been cut to pieces.

It took him a few seconds to come to a stop. He somehow lay upside-down on the nose of the plane, saved from the fall by his trousers snagging on part of the wreckage.

He looked up. They had smashed through the dome roof and were suspended from it, high above the buildings within. The physics had fully taken effect. The wide wings of the aircraft had entangled with the frame of the dome. Rather than punching a hole, the impact had pulled at the entire web. The sound of a large structure under strain was unmistakeable. The dome was screaming.

Zak heard Dad's frustrated voice. `Oh come on,' he said. `I can't get it restarted. We were just getting to the best bit.'

Dizziness hit Zak. The hanging cockpit was swaying. He saw Mum's face appear in the shattered window. Then, she fell out.

She slid down the nose desperately trying to grab on to something. The look of anger on her face as she passed Zak made him shiver.

He tipped his head back to watch Mum plunge to the ground, to the horror of a terrified crowd below.

Chapter 2: The MMM

12.30pm GMT Thursday 1 January 2085

`Thanks for the vid,' said Tom. `That was some of the best destruction I've ever seen hilarious!' `Yeah. My mum didn't think so,' said Zak. `It must have been a tough week.' `The worst Christmas ever. Being banned from the computer is like having half your brain chopped out. Apart from watching the snow, all I could do was look forward to my miserable new life on Mars.

Tom paused. His avatar became sad. `I'm crushed that you're going mate. Moving off-planet is a killer. I know a few players on Earth-orbiting stations, but even the Moon's too far away and needs its own league.' `Yeah. My appearance in Earth's top 10,000 will be quickly forgotten. No-one ever checks the Mars rankings.' `So much for becoming world champion then,' said Tom. `Have all our plans come to nothing?' `I'm not going to give up. I didn't sit there all week thinking the dream is over. I'll still practice. I will achieve it, somehow.'

Zak hoped his optimistic tone would convince Tom, even though he was far from convinced himself. `Zak, I've found a problem,' said Tom. `The cheat we're using only applies to the Earth network.' `Oh,' said Zak, his head dropping with despair. He hadn't considered that. `So you'd better make the most of your time over the next week, as you'll be back to fighting Spongeymen when you leave,' said Tom. `Yeah, I'll do that,' said Zak, with a sigh. `We'll keep in touch,' said Tom. `It's just a shame we never got to meet face to face.' `I'm sure we will one day,' said Zak. `As soon as I turn eighteen, I'll dust myself off, and return to live on Planet Earth.'

`I doubt that mate,' said Tom. `Mars is a one-way trip. Your muscles will waste away with the low gravity. Few people have returned to Earth after years of bouncing around on Mars.' `Uh!' said Zak. He shook his head slowly. Couldn't there be any sliver of hope he could cling to? `You're young, you might be okay,' said Tom. `Count yourself lucky you're not going to the Moon.'

Zak laughed uneasily. `I am worried though,' said Tom sheepishly. `Who knows what will happen when you get to Mars. You might change, get interested in something else…' `No!' protested Zak. He bolted upright to try and dispel his own gloom. He couldn't let Tom give up hope. `We'll talk regularly. You can still keep an eye on me.' `I hope so,' said Tom sincerely. `Of course!' insisted Zak. `We can even talk on the journey. I'll call you when I get onboard the ship. Although I don't know how easy it will be with the time lag.' `I'll look forward to it,' said Tom. `In fact, I wanted to talk to you about the journey.' `Sure,' said Zak. `But I don't know much about it.' `Do you know what ship you're travelling on?' asked Tom. `Hang on,' said Zak.

He glanced at the top of the wall and navigated the house computer via the icons. He accessed Dad's files and opened the travel details. Several documents were displayed, tiled across the wall. Zak scanned them and found one that contained information about the ship. `It's called the Colossus,' he said. `That's a bold statement eh?' `I've been reading up on these passenger ships,' said Tom. `The Colossus is the biggest one yet built. Each new ship gets bigger and bigger, so I'm not sure what they're going to call the next one.' `It doesn't look that impressive from the image,' said Zak. `That's probably because you can't tell its true size,' said Tom. `It should look better when you see it for real. You know, inside it's like a hotel, it's got everything to keep you amused.'

`Cool, but I'll probably just stay in my room and play Arctic War 3,' said Zak. `Oh! I bet the cheat won't work!'

Tom didn't reply. Zak noticed that the commando was glancing around nervously. `Zak,' said Tom. `Have you heard about the attacks on ships going to Mars.' `Er… what attacks?' asked Zak. `So far, it's only been a couple of cargo ships. There was a big fuss on the news a few months ago.' `I didn't see it. But surely passenger ships are well protected,' said Zak. `They're not protected at all,' said Tom. `There's a lot of security at the spaceports, but there's no military escort. Once a ship leaves, it faces a lonely journey across the solar system. It's assumed they're safe from attack because they travel at such high speed. It'd be impossible for a short range ship to get alongside a large ship and force it to dock. There's plenty of dodgy gangs roaming the solar system, but none of them would have the resources to launch such an attack.' `So what happened to the cargo ships?' asked Zak.

Tom sent Zak a news item, which appeared on Zak's wall. It was a report on the loss of a ship. The footage was simply a view of space, with a grey streak stretching off into the distance. `They exploded,' said Tom. `Blimey,' Zak gulped. `No-one knows how for sure,' continued Tom. `The debris is travelling out into deep space, so it's not possible to recover the evidence. But from the debris, experts ruled out engine catastrophe and asteroid impact.' `What haven't they ruled out?' asked a worried Zak. `Bombs,' said Tom. `Probably planted on board before the journey. And at the moment, suspicion has fallen on the MMM.' `Never 'eard of 'em,' said Zak. `The Militant Mars Movement,' said Tom. `A secretive organisation on Mars. They want to stop development on the planet and return it to wilderness.'

Zak remembered bits of news he had seen. `Lots of people complain about space development, don't they,' he said. `Yeah,' said Tom. `But you should take a look at the MMM site.

These guys are different. Get on the Mind Mat and I'll activate the link. This'll show you what Mars is really like.'

Zak wondered if Tom was just trying to scare him for amusement. He tilted back the gaming chair, rested his head and closed his eyes.

The scene opened. Zak stood on a flat area of rock, up the side of a Martian mountain. In front of him stretched a great canyon. It was all very orange.

A burst of dramatic music made him flinch. He sighed, and turned around.

Standing right behind him was a tall man. Zak nearly fell over as he jumped back with fright. The man was wearing a dark red mask, with only his eyes visible beneath ruffled blond hair. His outfit would have suited a commando, being the classic camouflage pattern, but in shades of dark orange and red. `Welcome comrade,' he said, as the music faded. `My name is Kort.'

Kort stepped up to Zak again, and offered to shake hands. Zak didn't respond. The man withdrew his hand, but remained facing Zak, towering over him. `Mars, the most majestic wilderness in the solar system,' he said, sweeping his hand across the view. `It was once protected by the scientific community. But in 2052, the governments of Earth gave in to the corporate lobby, and opened it up for development.'

Kort looked Zak straight in the eye. Sorrow crept into his voice. `The result has been a tragedy. Mars is being destroyed.'

Zak glanced around, embarrassed. `Don't you believe me?' asked Kort. `No,' said Zak.

Kort looked up to the sky. A dark cloud grew from behind the peak. Within seconds, strands of grey fog drifted at their level.

Zak tasted the air, which was thick with chemicals. After a breath, it made him cough. This was unpleasant. He gasped a few times, but now he couldn't breathe. He coughed and choked at the same time. He sunk to his knees, and fell forward onto all fours. Now, the cough came from deep within his belly, and he retched. What was this supposed to demonstrate? His hands clenched, plunging into the red dusty soil. On the ground there was material he hadn't expected, odd-shaped bits of plastic and metal. A flash of white appeared to his left. `Ow!' he cried, taking a slap to the side of the face, hit by a piece of foam that had blown around. `This way,' said Kort.

Zak lifted his head. Kort stood on the edge of a crest a little higher up. The air was clearer, so he crawled forward hurriedly, getting his breath back.

He struggled on until he reached Kort's feet, and found a mighty view of a plain bordering the other side of the mountain. In the centre stood a vast industrial complex - countless factories spewing smoke into the air, creating the cloud that was blown in their direction. The side of the mountain had a huge scoop taken out of it. A mining operation was clearly responsible. Like ants, a trail of trucks led from the giant hole to the factories. From there, convoys stretched in three different directions out to the horizon. `This is the reality of Mars today,' said the man. `Not your videopostcard images of geodesic domes and kilometre-high towers. Those little centres of civilisation are minute compared to the vast tracts of destruction. The surface of Mars is less compact than that on Earth, and its great features are crumbling under the assault.'

Zak tried to get to his feet. But as he did so, the ground that he stood on collapsed beneath him. As he tried to dart to safety, the whole area began to sink. He was caught in a landslide! It dragged him down the mountain, towards a slow moving river of brown sludge.

As he hit this, he gasped at the heat of it, and was quickly pulled under. Submerged, he couldn't breathe - his body tightened up as he experienced death.

The ordeal had ended. He was now bodyless within the site, facing a huge flag that pictured the globe of Mars. Upon the ashen orange surface, the major geological features of the planet were clear.

Stamped in white in the bottom left corner were the letters "MMM".

The flag billowed a little as if some draught had caught it, and a piece of music started playing. Zak didn't recognise it, but it sounded like a national anthem. `The MMM,' said the man, spelling out the letters slowly, `has one simple purpose - to end the human devastation of Mars.' `We cannot turn to the law to protect it, because the law has been crafted to support the corporations. Therefore, to succeed in our purpose, we must conduct a campaign of direct action. We will drive away those who abuse this land.'

The flag billowed violently and tore away. In the distance was a factory, with smoke streaming fiercely from its tall chimney. A huge explosion ripped through the central building, and the chimney fell, in relative slow motion.

Zak gulped. `This is what we, the MMM, can do and will do. Our message goes out to all humankind. To those living on Mars leave now. To those not on Mars don't come. To those who manufacture and transport goods for Mars cease work. Anyone who ignores that advice will be regarded as a legitimate target.'

The man took a deep breath, his tirade apparently over.

Zak decided he'd seen enough, and opened his real eyes. `Thanks Tom,' he said, `I'm struggling enough with this move, and now you tell me that a bunch of nutters will try and kill me and my family.' `I thought you should know,' said Tom. `You don't watch the news much, but there are often reports of political instability on Mars.' `I don't get it. Mars is an uninhabitable wasteland anyway. What is there to spoil? You can't breathe out in the open why do all these virtual-Mars worlds overlook that. It's a big, dead rock. These people are just mad.'

Zak slumped forwards with his head down.

`You'll find security tight at the space port,' said Tom. `But to me it doesn't sound like enough is being done. I'm worried that something bad could happen on the journey.' `Right!' said Zak, irritably.

He wasn't grateful for Tom's warning. He had tried to hold firm, to believe in himself and his dream, despite his world turning upside down. But he could no longer keep up the bravado. `Well if it was up to me I wouldn't be going!' he blurted.

*

2.30am GMT Monday 6 January 2085

Zak awoke to his alarm - the V-Commando theme tune. He jumped out of bed before touching his Mind Patch to turn it off. A single yawn was enough to get him wide awake. He was used to getting up at all hours to take part in a mission. With Tom in the USA, Van in Germany, Arnie in Iran, and competitors all over the world, he often had to ditch standard time.

After quickly throwing on a set of smart clothes he had laid out the night before, he opened his bedroom door.

There, lurching about the landing like an android on low battery was Skye. Rover sat in the corner, looking confused. `Uh! Remind me why this was a good idea?' slurred Skye.

Dad popped his head round the bathroom door, and removed the teeth cleaner from his mouth. `Your Gran insists that we make it an early evening visit,' he said miserably. `You'd think she'd be more accommodating given the effort on our part, but that's your Gran for you.' `I wish she'd get a Mind Mat,' said Skye. `Meeting someone in virtual space is just as good as the real thing. Travelling to Australia is such a drag.' `You can't teach an old dog new tricks,' muttered Dad.

Rover whined. Mum appeared from the main bedroom. `What was that?' she asked.

`Um. Just explaining why we need to travel to your mother's,' said Dad loudly. `There is one good reason to make the trip Skye.

Gran says she has a special present for you, and wants to give it to you in person.' `In that case, let's just send Skye on her own,' said Zak.

Dad frowned. It was a bit early for cheek.

Zak wasn't too put out about the visit. This would after all be the last time they would see her. She had retired many years ago to Melbourne, Australia. He was fond of his Gran, but hated these day trips. Aside from the travelling, he was expected to sit quietly and listen for hours to boring family conversation.

If anything, Dad endured the most discomfort on these visits. Zak sometimes passed the time watching him squirm.

By 3am GMT, they had left the house.

*

4.00pm EST Monday 6 January 2085

It was only a two hour flight from England, but the travel to and from the airports added another hour. The family arrived at Gran's house, bleary eyed from the bright Melbourne afternoon. A very elderly lady answered the door. `Hello. And a Merry Christmas to you,' said a delighted Gran. `Merry Christmas Mother,' said Mum, greeting her with a hug and a kiss.

Dad was next in line. `Oh you should have come earlier, the day is nearly over,' said Gran.

Zak watched for Dad's reaction. It was a forced smile.

After Skye, Zak stepped up to greet his Gran. `My, how you've grown since I last saw you Zak,' she said with a grin, reaching up to tap him on the cheek. `No, I think you've shrunk Gran,' said Zak. `Zak!' said Mum.

But Gran chuckled.

`Oh the youth of today. No respect for their elders. Not like in my day,' she said, raising her eyebrows.

They made their way into the living room. To Zak, it was like stepping back into a bygone age. Only one wall was covered with video sheet, and it displayed a single static image, of a nativity scene.

The other walls were covered with paper, which like the carpet and sofa covers could only show the single pattern originally printed on.

Zak balked at the silvery cut-outs that hung from the ceiling, which he recognised as old-fashioned Christmas decorations. But what he found most unsettling was that nothing was moving. If it were not for the ticking of a small analogue clock on the mantelpiece, he would have thought the room was frozen in time. `It's so nice of you all to pay me one last visit,' said Gran. `Oh Mother don't be like that,' said Mum. `I've explained to you why we have to leave Earth. We would love to join you here, but the government won't allow it.' `Don't worry,' said Gran holding her hands up, `you've got to get on with your own lives, not fret about mine.'

Dad rolled his eyes. `You get along quite nicely living on your own,' he said. `Of course, and why shouldn't I, I'll be only ninety-five next month.'

Zak noticed Dad biting his lip. His Gran appeared reasonably self-sufficient, but while living to ninety-five wasn't unusual these days, she had refused rejuvenating drugs. She looked like the oldest person he'd ever seen. `Anyway, sit down at the table,' said Gran, `I want us to make the most of our last ever get-together. I have a meal being prepared in the kitchen.' `It may not be our last,' protested Dad, `If journey times to Mars continue to shorten, it may be feasible to pop back in a few years.' `Oh I won't last that long for goodness sake,' said Gran, tutting.

Both Mum and Dad let out a loud sigh.

Zak realised he would be eating an evening meal at the time he normally had breakfast. He always found Gran's dinners somewhat strange. He'd been told she grew up in an era when vegetables were fashionable.

After dinner, they shifted to the sofas.

The family spent much of the time reminiscing. Zak sat there in a daze, behaving himself, but not paying much attention. He noticed that Skye seemed a little more interested, but then she had been promised a present.

This brought home the finality of the move. They talked as if they would never see each other again. It would be four years before he could legally leave his new home and return to Earth. He would lose his competitiveness at the crucial age, never to be recovered.

It was now four days until the journey. Once he boarded that flight to Mars, his ambition to become world V-Commando champion would turn to dust.

His parents did not care about this at all. For them, it was a highly convenient outcome. Well, they'd be lucky to get to Mars at all if the MMM had their way.

Zak despaired. It had all gone so horribly wrong. As the rest of the family waffled on, he alternated between leaning forward, chin on hands, and leaning back staring at the ceiling. Since the news was delivered he had been trying to think of a way out.

He checked the time. To his surprise, it was almost time to go.

They planned to leave at 10pm Melbourne time.

It wasn't long before Gran also noticed. `Well hasn't time flown. It's nearly my bedtime,' she said, `You know I must keep to my hours or I start to get narky.' `Of course,' said Dad. `Now Skye, I have a little something for you.' She went to the mantelpiece, picked up a small navy box and brought it to Skye. `I have always wanted to give this to you in person,' she said. `That's so much better than you finding it in a crate of my belongings.'

Skye took the box and opened it.

`A beautiful ring!' she said with delight. She plucked the ring from its cushion and held it up. It was a gold ladies band with engraved flowers.

She glanced around, open-mouthed. Mum and Dad were smiling enthusiastically. `Oh god,' groaned Zak. `It's more than that,' said Gran. `This ring has a past. It was given to me by my grandmother when I was sixteen. I have worn it ever since.' `So how old is it?' asked Skye. `It is at least one hundred and forty years old, but possibly much older,' said Gran. `It was in the possession of my grandmother from the end of the Second World War.'

Skye appeared to be enthralled, but Gran looked uncertainly at her. `Have you heard of that war?' she asked. `Of course,' said Skye. `We learnt about it in History. It's now called the Last Great War, by the way.' `Is it now,' said Gran, suspiciously. `Well, at the end of the war, my grandmother was allowed to travel to France to help in a military hospital. There, she met and fell in love with an American soldier.

They had a wonderful few months together, and he gave her this ring.'

Gran smiled and sighed. `Did they get married?' asked Skye excitedly. `Sadly no. Shortly afterwards, he had to return home to the USA.' `Oh,' said Skye. `My grandmother kept the ring, and wore it all her life. Only when she was dying did she decide to hand it on. She gave it to me.'

Skye smiled. `She told me that it saved her life,' said Gran dreamily. `How?' asked Skye. `Ah, er..,' muttered Gran, nervously. `Now that's a story for another day. I'll leave that in my crate of belongings.'

Skye was about to respond, but Gran interrupted her. `Will you promise me something?' she said quickly.

`Of course,' said Skye.

Gran put her hand to Skye's cheek. `My grandmother gave this ring to me, her daughter's daughter. I am giving this ring to you, my daughter's daughter. Wear this ring all your life, and when your daughter's daughter reaches sixteen, pass it on to her. Together, we'll have created a tradition that could last centuries.'

Skye beamed. `I will,' she promised. `It's a wonderful idea.' She embraced the elderly lady with joy, then placed the ring on her left middle finger. `What if she never has a daughter?' asked Zak.

Everyone ignored him.

He sat there with his arms folded. He'd not seen Skye so enraptured in a long time. She had been bought off with a leaving present. They hadn't even bothered to bribe him. `What was it like when you were growing up Gran?' asked Skye. `Oh, not that much different from today,' she said. `Girls spent their time trying to impress boys, and boys spent their time shooting things on computer, although in those days they had to watch it on a box.'

Skye frowned. `Doesn't sound at all like today, it sounds terrible.' `It wasn't as bad as in my grandmother's day. Their only amusement was rolling hoops down the street.'

This was met with blank looks from all the family. `Well that's it,' she said, impatiently. `I haven't got any more presents.' `Look at that. It's time to go,' said Dad.

Zak looked at his grandmother. Despite her sharp manner, her eyes began to twitch and well up. Underneath that cranky exterior, she faced her only surviving family leaving her for the last time. She would be left all alone.

Zak thought that very sad.

He had always taken Gran for granted. Now he thought about it he would miss her too.

The idea came to him, as if someone was inside his mind shouting it. He could stay here and look after his Gran, even if officially the other way round. He was sure Mum and Dad would rule it out if he proposed it right now. But maybe he could give them no choice. A plan began to crystalise in his mind. `Gran,' he said. `Can I have a present?'

Everyone stared at Zak as if he had broken wind. `Well dearie I'd love to give you something,' said Gran. `but I don't have any boys' things?' `How about that clock,' he said, pointing at the mantelpiece.

Gran shook her head. `What would you want that old thing for?' `Because I'm going to make you a promise,' said Zak. `One day, I will return here and give it back to you.' `Don't be ridiculous,' she said, with a tear in her eye. `I'll be lucky to see next Christmas. But I appreciate the thought.'

Zak gazed sorrowfully at her. `Oh alright then,' she said. `I can't take it with me.'

She retreived the clock and handed it to Zak.

To everyone's surprise, including his own, Zak jumped up and gave her a big enthusiastic hug. `Thanks Gran,' he said. `I'll see you then.'

Anxious that tears were about to flow, he rushed to the front door.

Outside, in the warm night air, he took a deep breath to calm his emotions. He allowed himself a little cheer. The first step to freedom had been taken.

He called Tom. An image appeared on his video wristband, showing a tent in a small jungle clearing.

So ashamed was he of his own body, that even when communicating by video, Tom used his avatar in a virtual setting. A commando emerged from the tent, wearing only a vest and trousers. `Zak,' answered Tom. `Don't you know what time it is?' `I haven't a clue. I'm in Australia for the day visiting my Gran, and I had to get up before 3am.' `Its 6am here. I wanted a lie-in after yesterday,' said Tom.

`I want to update you on the plan,' said Zak. `Don't go looking for a new team-mate just yet. I won't be on that flight to Mars.' `Wow,' said Tom. `How's that?' `I'm going to escape before the Colossus leaves port.' `Brilliant,' said Tom. `Then what are you going to do?' `I'm going to return to Earth, then come here and live with my Gran.' `What does she think of that?' `She doesn't know yet, but I'm sure she'll be fine.'

Tom's avatar looked happy, but a little uncertain. `Hang on, didn't you once say she was at death's door?' `Yeah, but she should last a few more years, that's all that matters.' `Okay,' said Tom tentatively. `Only joking. I can give her some company, she doesn't go in for your standard old lady robo-cat.'

Zak closed an eye and accessed his personal video record via the Mind Patch. `Here's a bit of video, from today,' he said. `It'll be a bit of a culture shock, but all I need is my Mind Mat.' `Got it. So, the career path is back on track.' `You bet. I'm gonna practice really hard and learn as quickly as I can.' `That's what I like to hear!' said Tom, his avatar punching the air. `So, you still reckon I can make it?' asked Zak. `Totally,' said Tom. `You're the most talented player I've ever played with.' `Thanks,' said Zak. `At least someone supports me. My family couldn't care less.' `I'm sure they'll take an interest when you're earning billions from tournament prizes,' said Tom. `Yeah. What a great thought,' said Zak. He paused, and dwelled on the prospect of becoming world champion. He thought of the glory, the fame, and the money. `Snap out of it!' said Tom, able to see Zak's eyes glaze over.

Zak heard the door open behind him, and turned to see Skye come out. `Hey, I'll check the video later,' said Tom. `I'm going back to bed. See you tomorrow.' `Yeah. Whenever that is,' said Zak.

The commando went back inside his tent, and Zak turned off the video wristband.

A pair of arms wrapped around his neck. `Hello Zak,' said Skye. She was hugging rather than strangling him. `Is that it now, are we going?' asked Zak. `In a minute.' She stretched out her fingers to show him the ring. `What a fantastic present, don't you think?' `Better than a piece of tat I suppose.' `When Gran's Gran received it originally, she could never have imagined that one day it would end up on Mars,' said Skye. `Yeah,' said Zak. `And who knows what may happen to it in the distant future.'

Skye let go, and Zak turned to face her. `So how do you feel about it now?' she asked. `Going to Mars.'

Zak didn't want to reveal his plot. He had to lie. `I've no interest in the place,' he said. `But I'll put up with it, until I'm old enough to come back.' `Well you're going to be fun to live with for the next few years,' she said. `I'm really excited now. I've never taken much interest in space, but this is something new. I've been reading about the cities on Mars. The people there have an easy-going attitude. There's a good music scene and lots of clubs. It sounds like it might be the place to be.' `Yeah, but on Earth you can be anywhere that is the place to be.'

Skye lunged at Zak, gave him a full-on hug, and laughed. `You're so stubborn Zak,' she said.

Zak refrained from pushing her away. It would only make her angry.

He gazed into the clear night sky. He noticed that he did not recognise most of the patterns of stars, but quickly realised why. He was viewing from the Southern Hemisphere. At one time he had been fascinated by the universe, but that interest had been replaced by other things.

He recognised one familiar pattern, Orion's Belt. To its left and low in the sky was a distinct orange dot, Mars. Zak was sure that it wasn't normally so prominent. The distance between Earth and Mars varied tremendously. Dad had told him their journey to Mars would take one week. In the coming months, it would get much longer. Once he had averted this trip, it would be too much hassle for Dad to come back and get him.

Zak laughed quietly to himself. It would be a bold escape. He was about to have some real-life adventure.

Chapter 3: The Colossus

12:00pm GMT Friday 10 January 2085

The whole Carter family gathered inside the garage, where Dad was trying to squeeze Rover's carry-cage into the boot. When he was satisfied with its position, he picked up Rover, shoved him in and closed the cage door. `Sorry about this Rover,' said Dad, `it's going to be an uncomfortable week. But you'll have more room onboard the ship.' `Are we finished then?' asked Zak. `One last thing,' said Dad. `I have to turn off the house computer.

Do you want to see.'

They all marched back into the lounge. It still seemed homely enough the dark blue carpet and ceiling; the orange and white animated pattern on the wall; the turquoise and green sofa covers. The only evidence to suggest they were moving out was the lack of solid ornaments.

A control panel appeared in the centre of the wall. Dad cast his eyes on the panel and worked his way through the menus. Suddenly, the whole room transformed. The strong colours and patterns swiftly faded, to be replaced throughout by a uniform grey.

Zak had experienced this in his own room when punished, but he'd never seen the effect on the rest of the house. He took a quick peek in the hallway and kitchen. Beforehand, every drop of colour had been dynamically displayed via the house computer. Now, carpets, stairs, worktops and all other surfaces were blank. `I hardly recognise it as our house,' said Zak. `I'm glad to see the back of that wallpaper pattern,' said Skye, `it was vile.' `But it's all on computer,' said Mum, taking offence. `I was going to reuse it in our new home.'

Skye shuddered, and whispered to Zak. `See if you can delete it before we get there.'

Zak nodded. `Oh, there's one last thing,' he said.

Zak nipped into the kitchen, and touched a spot on the worktop.

The cupboard below slid out. It was still full of crockery new plates would be cheap on Mars. Zak retrieved an object tucked away at the back. `Gran's clock!' said Mum. `What was it doing in there?' `I couldn't stand the ticking,' said Zak, stuffing it into his bag. `Let's hope no-one thinks it's a timebomb.'

Although it wouldn't be inconvenient if he was detained out of suspicion, he thought. It would save him an escape attempt.

The family returned to the garage, leaving the house for good.

They strapped themselves into the car - Zak and Skye in the back, Mum and Dad in the front, with Dad taking the seat at the control dashboard.

Much more spacious than a motor car, the jet-car was a haven of comfort. In the air, the width of lanes was no longer restricted by the historic placing of buildings, and so jet-cars were fifty percent wider than motor cars. Yet the jet-car travelled so fast that most journeys were only a matter of minutes. `Kids,' said Dad, `it's going to be a stop-start day today I'm afraid. It will be six hours before we get on board the ship, and most of that time will be spent waiting around. We'll drive to Coventry Airport, but then we've got to catch a plane to the Florida Spaceport, take the shuttle to the Earth One Space Station, and then transfer onto the ship. I'd say you're better off listening to music, than trying to watch TV or play a game.'

Zak sighed. Maybe it would be more relaxing if each part of the journey took several hours.

Dad started the car. A low but loud hum grew around them. The roof of the garage opened. Two doors separated and wheeled back to the side.

Zak looked out of the car window and through the open roof. The sky was a brilliant blue, with barely a wisp of cloud to spoil it. He was sure it was unusual to get such a clear day so early in the year, and wondered if scientists were being a bit hasty in concluding there was an Ice Age on the way.

The jet engines fired underneath, and the car rose vertically through the open roof. It ascended to a height of twenty metres, well above the house. Zak watched the downward camera view on the dashboard, which showed the rooftop garage doors wheeling shut. `Goodbye house,' said Dad.

The car swivelled ninety degrees to the right. The engines burned again, and the car shot forwards and upwards to join a nearby line of traffic.

Dad leaned back from the dashboard and turned to the children. `It's only five minutes to the airport,' he said. `We won't see Rover after that, as he and the luggage will be handled separately. But you can visit him on the ship.'

He closed the navigation display, brought up the travel arrangement details, and started checking them, leaving the flight computer to precisely guide the jet-car to the airport.

Zak considered his opportunities to escape. He didn't know the exact proceedings along the way, so there was a strong element of risk to his plan. Therefore, it was worth one last attempt to persuade his parents to give up the notion. `Dad,' said Zak. `Tom thinks that the ship to Mars could be attacked by terrorists.' `What?' said Dad with incredulity. `Two other ships have been blown up, and the MMM have said they'll treat people going to Mars as a target.'

Dad laughed nervously. Zak noticed Mum look away. Skye had already started listening to music and was oblivious. `Zak,' said Dad, `the ship isn't going to be attacked. The MMM are just a bunch of rock hugging eco-freaks. They haven't got the capability to blow up a ship. Those other ships were destroyed in accidents.'

Zak sensed that his parents were hiding something, but Dad's voice grew in conviction. `They'd need a pretty big bomb to destroy the ship we're travelling on. And security is so tight they wouldn't be able to smuggle so much as one particle of explosives on board.'

Zak didn't feel reassured, but he was not confident in making his own argument. `But there's no escort through the solar system,' he said, remembering one of the points Tom had put to him. `Zak,' said Dad, as if Zak was being unreasonable. `The most dangerous part of the journey is this jet-car ride. One slight error by the flight computer, and we could collide with another car and smash into the ground. The second most dangerous part is the plane. We have to fly up to 30,000 metres and down again at high speeds. If the engine fails, it's a long way down. The third most dangerous part is the shuttle. Rocketing straight up through the atmosphere is not only testing on the health, but you've got to hope you don't hit any large debris floating around in orbit. Thankfully, the shuttle has a very hard nose. Travelling across the solar system is plain sailing by comparison. Space is so vast that the chances of colliding with anything are virtually nil. Should the engines fail, there's no gravity to send you hurtling to the ground.'

Dad tried to give a reassuring smile. `Yes,' he said, `by the time we reach the space station, we'll be past the worst of it.'

Zak stared at his dad in horror. He had never known travelling was so dangerous. He began to feel anxious about the day ahead. Not only was he still concerned about terrorists, he now had all these other perils to worry about.

His escape plan would still go ahead, provided he actually made it to the shuttle.

*

4:00pm GMT Friday 10 January 2085 To Zak's great relief, the jet-car and plane journeys were completed uneventfully. He was now facing a new experience, the shuttle. He had never been into space before. Even late in the 21 st Century, while many thousands travelled into space every day, space travel was not commonplace.

His escape had to be timed perfectly. It had to be just before a point of no turning back, so that once he was on his way, his family could not return to get him. It would have to be between the shuttle arriving, and the Colossus leaving.

Zak took his seat by the window on the left side, near the rear of the carriage. He found the interior of the shuttle comforting, as it was similar to the plane he had just travelled on. His nerves eased as each stage of the trip progressed identically to an aeroplane flight - taxiing on the runway, firing the engines, accelerating at high speed, then lifting off. The first noticeable difference was that the self-serve drinks trolley did not make its way down the aisle. The shuttle continued to rise at a steep angle, until the flight status read an altitude of 15,000 metres, when Zak noticed out of the window that the wings were changing shape. The huge wings that had stretched out to the side to give the aircraft lift, were now folding in, converting the shuttle into an arrow-like shape. It reminded Zak of a bird of prey folding its wings back in order to launch a dive, except in this case, they would be heading up.

A soothing male voice made an announcement. `This is your Captain. Passengers and crew, prepare for vertical lift.'

The shuttle tilted back. Zak risked another glance out the window, to find that the horizon was vertical.

The engines fired again, a deeper roar that reverberated through the carriage. Most of the passengers, including Zak, let out an audible gasp. Now, he felt like he was sitting on a rocket, heading straight up, and away from Earth.

Such was the intensity of the ride, none of the passengers were talking to each other. Zak looked to Dad for reassurance on this, only the third most dangerous part of the whole journey. But Dad had his head bowed and his eyes shut. His knuckles were white from gripping the arm rest.

Out of the window, the sky was turning black, as the atmosphere became thin. Zak couldn't help but gaze out. In all the space pilot games he had played, none had done justice to the view that now presented itself. Earth gleamed a brilliant blue. White cloud formations swirled across most of the surface, and where they broke, patches of green and yellow distinguished land from sea. Zak tried to identify the coast from the fragments of colour, but found it difficult to make sense of them, as the shuttle was still rising vertically, and he was having to look over his shoulder.

Suddenly, the shuttle banked sharply to the left, triggering more gasps. Zak now found as he looked out that he was facing almost directly down towards the Earth. Due to thin cloud cover, he soon realised that he could see western Europe. A solid white sheet extended from the North as far down as the tip of Scotland. Britain was white from the snow cover but just about framed by the blue sea.

Zak hadn't realised that the ice sheet had advanced so close to home.

As he wondered what might really happen when the ice sheet reached the mainland, he became aware that he was weightless.

The noise of the shuttle intensified, and Zak became alarmed by the sound of loud pinging. The Captain's soothing voice brought another announcement. `Apologies for the noise. We're just encountering some orbital debris. Nothing to worry about, this shuttle has a very hard nose.

Enjoy the rest of the flight, we will be arriving at Earth One in fiftyfive minutes.'

The pinging eventually stopped, and within the time stated by the Captain the shuttle slowed and came to a stop. Zak couldn't see the Space Station out of his window, but the passengers were instructed to leave the shuttle.

Now was the time. Zak braced himself for the escape. He took his time and fumbled around, much to his family's frustration, so that they were among the last people to leave their seats. The stewards watched intently to ensure everyone left the carraige.

They made their way to the front using the new method of floating down the aisle, then continued out of the door and down a tunnel. It was a relaxing way to move after the journey, but difficult to control. As they bumped their way along, Zak looked out for the next checkpoint. He had to make sure he avoided going through it, but his only escape route would be back to the shuttle. He had to return and hide for long enough.

They reached the back of a queue. With people and hand luggage floating around, he couldn't yet see the head of it, but it moved quickly.

As the last few stragglers joined the queue behind them, they arrived at the front. Waiting for them was a pod with large windows.

They climbed into the seats, and began to fasten themselves in.

Then Zak jumped out of his seat. `I forgot my bag!' he exclaimed. `It's got Gran's clock in.'

In that moment, he could see Mum and Dad struggle with the dilemma. They wouldn't want him to leave it behind, yet they wouldn't want him out of their sight either. They froze.

Zak didn't wait for a response. He quickly climbed out to make his way back to the shuttle.

He was confronted by a huge lipstick framed smile. `Is this your bag?' said a stewardess, holding it up.

Zak grimaced at her, getting a puzzled reaction. `Yes,' he said, swiping it from her grasp.

He felt almost pushed back into the pod, and before he had even found his seat again, the door slid shut and the pod started moving.

Zak took a deep breath. That would not be the only opportunity, but it would only get more difficult.

The lights inside the pod were dimmed, so for a few minutes, they could see little other than the sides of a tunnel as the pod trundled along at a slow pace. Then, the large windows turned black, and the change in lighting caused them all to squint and adjust their eyes. They peered outside.

For the first time, Zak could see the Earth One Space Station, from which the pod had emerged. It was a huge flat construction made up of interlinking modules. Behind it loomed the blue globe of Earth. As the pod drew away, the perspective shifted, enabling Zak to gain some perception of the scale.

The pod was travelling along a windowed chute through space, which stretched out in a curve over a considerable distance. It terminated at their destination. `There it is,' said Dad pointing. `The Colossus.'

Zak wasn't impressed with his first view of the ship. At this distance it simply appeared to be a thin tube. Although a few mechanical arms reached out to it, there was no familiar object nearby to gauge its scale. `Some Colossus. Are we actually going to fit in that thing?' he asked. `We're still a few kilometres away yet,' said Dad, confidently. `How big is it then?' asked Zak. `Six hundred and eighty metres long,' replied Dad, `and thirtytwo metres in diameter. It's divided into two halves. At the front is the living area, and at the back is the engine and fuel tank.'

As the pod continued its steady journey along the chute, some of the detail became clearer. Zak could see a slight notch halfway along.

He could easily tell which half was which. The half to the left was white, its end forming a rounded cone like the front of an aeroplane.

The right half was copper coloured, and fanned out at its end.

Zak laughed. `It's a giant rocket,' he said. `That's why it takes only one week to get to Mars,' said Dad. `I wouldn't call it beautiful,' said Skye. `There is a beautiful ship called the Eternal Sun Spaceliner,' said Dad. `It takes three months to reach Mars. Would you like to go on that instead?' `No,' said Skye apologetically. `This is fine.'

Zak spotted markings on the surface of the ship. They slid downwards and disappeared. `Is it rotating?' he exclaimed.

`It is,' said Dad, smiling. `It rotates to create artificial gravity. In space, we are weightless because the forces of gravity are so small.

But it's possible to create a force that acts like gravity. The cylinder spins around, and we get pulled against the sides. Its called a centrifuge.' `Like those spinning rides at the theme parks,' suggested Zak. `That's right,' said Dad. `Or you could say its like the spin cycle on an old-fashioned washing machine.' `Great!' said Skye. `A week of being spun round like a pair of damp underpants.' `Well, it would be more convenient to use a gravity field,' said Dad impatiently. `But that's just science fiction.'

The pod was nearing the ship, and would soon reach a windowless chute, which led to one mechanical arm at the centre of the living area. The arm appeared to hold the ship in a circular claw, but the ship rotated smoothly within its grasp.

It was their last chance to view the outside of the ship.

Conversation stopped as all four of them stared in awe. The ship appeared to grow before their eyes, and ever more detailed markings became clear. Even on its side, the ship was tall. They were dwarfed by it. And its length now stretched as far as any of them could see.

The gentle rotation of the ship was mesmerising. Zak felt as if he were shrinking, while a giant steamroller bore down on him. He started to cower, but the view disappeared abruptly, as the pod entered the tunnel. `I take it back,' he said, excitedly. `This is one hell of a ship!'

Zak felt a first tinge of disappointment that he wouldn't be travelling on it.

The pod came to a halt and the tunnel lights switched off. The family could see only each other in the dim light. Zak could sense his body turning, but couldn't see any evidence of movement. There was a pull of acceleration, followed by an equally fast deceleration. Zak found this slightly uncomfortable, but then became aware of the weight of his body on the seat. `Gravity!' he exclaimed.

Outside the pod, a door slid back and light flushed in. A steward was waiting. He opened the pod door, and greeted them with a smile. `Welcome,' he said, `to the Colossus.'

Zak unclipped his seat fasteners and stood up. `Hurry up,' he insisted, `this pod will be whisked away any second.'

The others fumbled around faster.

He helped each of them out of the pod, then pulled the door closed and sat back down. Four astonished faces looked on as the pod slid away with him inside. `Goodbye,' he shouted, with a wave.

The light quickly faded, leaving the pod in darkness. Zak felt his body churn as the pod spun into the returning chute. Then, as it slid into the windowed section, the space station and Earth appeared back in view.

He had done it. Zak congratulated himself. It had been relatively simple. The Colossus would not be delayed for one missing passenger, and by the time he was returned to Earth One, it would be starting its engines.

Zak stretched back in his seat and took a deep breath. He would simply tell the authorities that he refused to go, and instead wanted to stay with his obvious legal guardian on Earth - his Gran. He could only imagine she would be pleased when he turned up, and with one of her prized possessions no less.

To his surprise, the pod became dark again, and Zak felt himself turn upside down. Light then filled the pod, and gravity took hold.

The scowling face of the steward pressed against the glass. `Out!' he demanded, as the door slid open.

Zak complied. With four pairs of eyes trained on him so angrily, he felt shame. But this was due to yet another failure of his plan, rather than any sense of wrongdoing. `What do you think you're doing,' demanded Mum. `I know you don't want to come, but that's no excuse for trying to wreck the trip.' `Well I'm here now,' said Zak irritably.

Mum shouted at him a bit more, but he ignored her.

He looked up, and absorbed the sight before him. It took a few seconds for it to resolve into something that made sense in his mind, as he related the shape of the outside to the architecture on the inside.

They were in a huge room, shaped like a drum on its side. The floor on which they were standing was the wall of the drum. It stretched out in front of them, curved upwards smoothly, looped back overhead, and completed a perfect circle behind them. It was a path that looped the loop. Zak was astonished to see people standing and walking around its entirety. `They call this a hamster wheel,' said Dad, `a section of the ship with a path all the way round. This one is the reception hall.'

Zak got to grips with the basic shape, but there was more to understand. There were so many people walking in so many directions, it made him dizzy. He tried to make sense of the finer details.

Each side of the hamster wheel took the shape of a huge disc.

These discs were the true walls of the room. Where these walls met the floor, Zak could see four doors evenly spaced along each side.

Each door had an arched frame that glowed with a bright colour. He could also see another set of doors higher up the walls. These were connected via balconies along each side, and walkways crossing overhead. About a quarter of the way round from where he stood, stairs led up to this higher level. The ship was a double-decker.

He could not see all the way around the path. As he looked directly up, there appeared to be a ceiling. He changed his position to get a sense of perspective. It remained directly overhead, but the pattern shifted slightly. He realised the ceiling was curved back on itself tightly, so forming a thick axel running through the centre of the wheel.

Zak's head was spinning, as there was so much to take in. But he could not sense that the giant cylinder they were standing inside was itself spinning round.

The rest of the family had sat down on a large bench in the middle of the hall. Zak knew there was one last opportunity for him to escape the lifeboats. He had to find their location. He also had a strong urge to run round the hamster wheel. For some reason he couldn't remember, it seemed the thing to do.

He started the timer on his watch, then broke into a sprint. He charged along the right side of the hall in the direction of the curve.

Despite the floor rising up ahead of him, it felt no different to running on flat ground.

He kept in a straight line, as despite the large number of people in the hall, it was surprisingly uncrowded. The passengers were mainly men, and the women were mostly one half of a couple. Zak spotted a few families with small children, but couldn't see anyone his own age.

As he reached a quarter of the way round, something caught his eye. He spied what appeared to be a girl up ahead, on the other side of the hall. He couldn't see her face, because from his position he was looking down on her from above. Her long straight hair was jet-black and silky, perfectly parted down the middle. As he got closer, her face came into view, and he caught sight of pale skin and a dinky nose.

She was definitely a teenager, but she appeared to be with a much older man.

He stayed on the opposite side to the girl, but took a good look as he went past. He was curious about her, but startled by the scene. The man looked old enough to be her grandfather. He stood at a reception desk, engaged in conversation. Like a statue, the girl stood a few feet away in a stiff upright pose, her hands clasped neatly in front. She wore the oddest clothes he had ever seen on a young person, a navy trouser suit with elegant white trimmings. An embroidered rectangular case was by her feet. She looked so out of place, he wondered if she had somehow been plucked from an era of history.

There was no time to find out more. Zak put his head down and kept running. He soon found himself tiring it was further than it looked. As the pod entrance came into view, he spotted the lifeboat symbol next to a red door on the left. He had gone the long way round. By the time he arrived back at the start he was panting heavily.

`Twenty seconds!' he exclaimed, staggering over to the bench. `That's rubbish,' said Dad, `it's only about eighty metres.' `I went off too fast,' said Zak. `You're probably unfit from sitting in that chair all day,' said Skye. `You should do some exercise while you're onboard.'

The family remained seated, and watched as one last group of people was dropped off by pod. When there were no more arrivals, an announcement came over a loudspeaker. `Would passengers please make their way to the Acceleration Room at 16-O-G. The ship is ready to depart.'

The number 16-O-G meant nothing to Zak. But he noticed that the other passengers had rushed to converge on a flashing green door opposite the pod, and next to the lifeboat door.

He leaned over, and pretended to be recovering, waiting until the queue had almost disappeared. He joined his agitated family at its end.

This was Zak's last chance. He had to sneak into the lifeboat room, and cut adrift.

Chapter 4: Mind Bending

6:00pm GMT Friday 10 January 2085

The Acceleration Room was a single-floor room containing many rows of seats. Zak entered the room at the aisle on the left side. Each row was laid along the direction of the curve. Zak couldn't see the right-hand end of the rows, because the floor curved up so far it was obscured by the low ceiling. Even so, he estimated that he could see hundreds of seats, probably enough to sit everyone on the ship.

Close to the entrance on the left hand wall was a door clearly marked with the lifeboat symbol. Zak needed to be near it.

Almost all the seats were already taken, so the family were stuck with the back row. This suited Zak just fine. He dawdled in order to get the seat on the end, next to Skye. The seats were soft, and each had a deep scallop shell shaped back to sink into. Thin panels reaching eye level divided each row, which doubled as screens. `How long do we have to stay in here?' asked Zak. `Acceleration to maximum speed takes three hours,' said Dad. `Three hours!' wailed Skye. `Well, you can't reach 800,000 kilometres an hour in ten seconds you know. There is a limit to the acceleration we can bear. Given that this is a passenger ship, they try and keep it comfortable.' `So how much is it?' asked Zak. `We accelerate at 2g, twice the force of Earth gravity,' explained Dad. `Unfortunately, that means we can't walk around. Everything on the ship has to be screwed in, tied down or packed away. Including us.'

Zak absorbed that information. It was his last chance to escape, and he needed to know what was going to happen.

Almost as soon as everyone had settled down and fastened themselves in, the noise started. Zak immediately thought of a jet aircraft firing up its engines, but this was altogether deeper. A vibration rumbled through the ship.

Zak found it frustrating that there were no windows. He wanted to see the ship pulling away. He accessed the ship's computer on the screen in front of him.

`Are we moving?' asked Skye. `I'm just checking,' said Zak as he searched the options on screen. Seconds later, an image appeared, showing the space station floating over a rectangular section of Earth.

The view shifted ever so slightly. In the corner of the screen, a silver panel labelled as the speedometer read "000,005 kilometers per hour". `Okay,' said Skye, `at this rate we'll reach Mars in time for the next millennium.' `We're accelerating,' said Zak with scorn. `This thing's got a huge backside to get moving, and having yours on board doesn't help.'

Skye leaned forward to peer into Zak's scallop shell, and glared at him.

The speedometer started to increase rapidly. "10, 20, 50, 100,…".

The image on screen began to shift more discernibly. The Earth remained apparently still, but the space station drifted to the left and shrunk in size.

As the acceleration increased to reach 2g, Zak found himself sinking more heavily back into his seat. He presumed the ship was still spinning, as he felt the artificial gravity pulling him towards the floor. But a stronger force pushed him back into his seat. It took a mental change of perspective, but he could now tell that `down' was behind him not below him.

The speedometer reading stabilized, increasing steadily at the rate of 100 kilometers per hour every few seconds. By now, the space station was barely visible, and the edge of the Earth came into view.

Zak struggled to peer into Skye's scallop shell. She had a determined look on her face, and she sat stiff with her arms folded. He imagined that she would spend the next three hours thinking of some way to embarrass him.

Goodbye Skye, he thought to himself. See you in a few years.

Zak lay back, unfastened himself, then rolled to the left and out of the seat. He had expected to land feet first on the back wall of the room, but instead landed in a heap in the corner of the back wall and floor.

He managed to get to his feet, and stand upright. It was like the room had been tipped backwards. He was standing on the back wall, but it was steep and smooth. His calf muscles took the strain to keep him balanced.

Above him, no-one had noticed his maneouvre.

To get to the left wall, he had to cross over the wide entrance door. If the door came open, he would find himself at the top of a very steep slide, under the pull of almost double gravity.

Some heavy prodding with his foot satisfied him it was securely shut. But he paused. For the first time in his life, he was taking a real physical risk. His sweat glands responded by ramping up to full flow.

Better not to dwell on it. He pushed off and walked swiftly, as if over hot coals. As he reached the other side, he stopped to look back.

His heart pounded. This was real adventure!

The narrow door to the lifeboat room was now positioned like an overhead locker. Zak suspected that when he opened it, an alarm would sound, giving him little time to escape in the boat. He pushed the button, and it swung open upwards. Silence. Zak still had time to spare.

He pulled himself up and through the door frame. It was hard work under such forces. He dropped down on his feet, and pressed the button to close the door.

The lifeboat room was more engineered for getting around in this acceleration phase. Ladders were attached to both floor and walls. Ten round doors with portholes lined the room, each an entrance into the mini spaceships. From Zak's perspective, the lifeboats were stacked on top of each other.

Zak approached the lifeboat at the bottom, and peered into the porthole. Inside were several wide rows of seats, facing towards a window. And at the front, an instrument panel with two pilot seats.

Would he be able to fly the thing? He might be. But that was not necessary. Once the lifeboat detached from the Colossus, it would no longer accelerate, and would be left far behind. There was enough space traffic near Earth that he should be picked up in no time.

He turned his head to read the instructions. ` Manual operation: Pull lever clockwise to open door.'

Simple enough. But he could find nothing to tell him what to do once he got inside. This time, once the door opened there would certainly be an alarm, which wouldn't give him long to figure it out.

He put his hands around the lever and got ready to pull. As soon as it clicked he would have to act faster than ever before.

A shaft of light caught him in the eyes.

Above him, a door had opened, and two silhouettes appeared in the gap. Zak dived under the lifeboat.

He couldn't see the people, but he listened. `No alarm,' said a man. `Told you there wouldn't be,' said another.

The ladder clanged as they descended into the room. Then, a pause. `Whoa! Plush. Who'd have thought you could flee in such comfort.' `We can't afford to let any get away, or we'll have witnesses all over the solar system.' `But surely the boats'll be all wired up.' `That's why I brought you along. We need a low-tech solution.' `You got it! But do you think they'll notice? It's a few days.' `This lot? They won't check it.' `Okay. I know what to do.'

A soft but heavy thump echoed around the room. A short pause, then further clanging of the ladder. Another thump followed.

Zak couldn't see what was happening, and given their talk of witnesses, he feared it wasn't good. Was this of any concern to him? While he intended to be gone shortly, he didn't want to leave his family subject to an MMM attack. Adding to his fear was time. The longer this went on, the further from Earth he would be every second mattered.

Finally, Zak heard the two men reach the bottom lifeboat. He hid in the shadows, and was certain they were unaware of him. Their faces came into view.

Both had thick black moustaches, which distracted from their other features. But Zak just managed to register them.

After one last thump, the pair turned and climbed back up the ladder.

As they closed the door at the top, Zak crawled out. He inspected the door to the lifeboat, but couldn't see anything out of place. Once he was gone, he would report the incident to the relevant authorities, so they could warn the crew of the Colossus.

Zak grabbed the lever once again and pulled it. It didn't budge.

He set himself and used his muscles, but still couldn't shift it.

He eased himself underneath the lever in order to add some weight, and tried again, with all the strength he could muster. But it was stuck.

There was no time to mess around. He climbed up to the next lifeboat and tried again with the same result. `How is anyone supposed to do this,' he said, exasperated.

He examined the lever and its joint closely. The joint was subtly warped and had a small crack. It was the only faint sign that something was wrong. `They've nobbled it!' he cried, in disbelief.

He shifted his weight back onto the ladder.

That was it! His last chance of escape had gone.

Zak hung there for a few minutes. He had not considered failure.

His mind was stuck in a loop, unable to think of what to do next, or even take in the implications of what he had just seen.

Eventually, one concern bubbled up to the fore. `I'd better get back,' he said quietly to himself. `In case I get the blame.'

He crawled and climbed his way back into his seat. All that effort under high gravity was physically exhausting. And mentally, his distress was growing. With still over two hours to go, he had plenty of time to dwell on his misfortune.

There was no way he could get off the ship now until it reached Mars. But it would be far more difficult to arrange a return journey on his own. It had all been so easy in his mind sidestep the problem of approval by making an escape. He would now have to persuade his parents to let him go, but the chances of that happening were remote.

But he realised his career was no longer the most urgent goal. His first priority must be survival was the ship in line for an MMM attack? It was an inescapable conclusion. Why else were those men determined to stop `witnesses' escaping. What were they planning? Were they even with the MMM? Zak knew he should report the incident to the crew immediately.

The problem was that he shouldn't have been there. He would be in a lot of trouble if they found out he had tried to use a lifeboat to leave the ship. He hadn't previously considered what a reckless thing that was to try. Would they even believe him? At least it sounded like any attack was a few days away. Zak gave serious thought to what he should do. He had arrived in this large and unfamiliar place, with no idea of who to go to. He needed to feel confident. He decided against reporting the incident for now, until he had got his bearings in this place and hopefully seen those men again, so he could be certain of identifying them.

It was a journey he had not intended to be on. What a way for it to start!

*

Just over the three hour mark, there was a loud boom and the background din quickly faded away. The force pushing Zak back into his seat was gone. He leant forward and felt his body relax. The speedometer read "800,000 kilometers per hour".

Immediately, the other passengers stood up and started filing out, obliging the Carter family to quickly follow suit. They returned to the reception hall, and their next wait was for a steward to show them to their rooms. A reception desk was nearby, and the steward had nipped into an office behind it to obtain their key. `Please,' he said on returning, `your rooms are this way. Your luggage has already been delivered.'

The steward led them up the stairs to the upper floor balcony. Zak bounded up the last few steps for a quick peek at the view from the top. He was most startled by the steepness of the balcony around the hamster wheel. He realised that the path around the wheel would be much shorter at this height, and that the closer he got to the centre of the wheel, the shorter and more curved the path would get.

The family followed the steward along the balcony to a yellow arched door and through into the cabin area. `At last, a place that makes sense,' said Mum.

They entered a more conventional looking corridor, with doors on either side. But even this corridor betrayed the geometry of the ship.

The walls and doors either side tipped towards them slightly. It reminded Zak of one game he'd played, set in a haunted house.

Having traversed each dimension of the ship, Zak was feeling bullish. `Getting around this ship is easy,' he declared. `It's really just like a building with two floors.' `It becomes second nature,' responded the steward. `But we advise you to watch the introductory presentation, which explains how to find your way around the ship.' `Bah. Who needs that!' Zak replied.

They arrived at their cabins, Y-41 and Y-42, situated opposite each other. Zak and Skye had to share a room. They grumbled halfheartedly about this arrangement and went inside. Before they closed the door, Dad poked his head around it. `I don't suppose one of you could check on Rover,' he said. `He's in the cargo hold, here's some treats for him.' He threw a bag to Zak, who caught it.

Zak looked around for somewhere to put the bag. The cabin appeared reasonably normal. It was a decent size for two, comfortably fitting a single bed in the corner on either side, plus a small table in the remaining space. The bulky duvets carried a pattern of white with brown zig-zags which Zak decided he'd have to reset. The wall opposite the beds was unobstructed, providing a large screen which displayed menu options for the ship's computer.

Zak studied the shape of the room more carefully. It was more like a rocking cradle, with the floor and ceiling curved in one direction, but flat in the other. It was almost twice as wide at the bottom than at the top. Conveniently, the bed lay along the curve, which meant that he could watch the screen lying down.

Skye began to unpack her clothes for the trip. Zak placed the bag on the table then flopped on his bed, tired from all the travelling.

According to his watch, it was 10pm. The clock on the screen said 5pm. Zak realised that onboard a spaceship, clock time had no foundation. There was no sunrise and sunset, or daytime and nighttime. The clock was set to American Eastern Time, the time zone of the Florida spaceport, but was known on board as Solar System Time.

He wondered if he would suffer from space lag.

He set his watch, but felt himself dozing off. `Do you want me to check on Rover?' asked Skye.

Zak snapped his eyes open and forced himself awake. `No. I'll do it,' he said, sitting up. `You'd better watch the introductory presentation then,' said Skye, `or you won't find your way there.' `I don't need to do that,' said Zak dismissively. `I understand how the ship is laid out.'

He navigated the computer. A map of the ship appeared. `There,' he said. `The cargo hold is at the back, next to the engine. Should be easy.' `Off you go then,' said Skye, smiling. `I'll pop down and see him later.'

Zak opened the bag of treats and grabbed a handful. He put them in his pocket and left the room.

*

Two hours later, Zak finally arrived at the cargo hold. He was exhausted. He reckoned he had walked through just about every facility on the ship before finally arriving. There were no signposts, just signs that he couldn't work out. Tired and frustrated, having lost his way many times, he eventually decided just to ask a crew member at every opportunity which direction to go. Almost at his wits' end, he made it.

The entrance was on the upper floor, which opened onto a metal landing with steps leading to the lower floor. Zak took advantage of the view from the top, and looked around for the kennels.

The cargo hold was a hamster wheel that appeared to be wider than it was tall. Around the wheel, containers of all sizes were stacked high. Zak was reassured by the sight of giant clips linking the containers together and clamping them to the floor. Despite the effect of artificial gravity, Zak couldn't help feeling that the containers dangling above his head looked precarious.

To his left, almost at eye level, Zak spotted the top of a conspicuous silver metal hut. He presumed it was the kennels. From his vantage point, he picked out the path that led to it, then descended the steps and made his way there.

On opening the door, he could see several cages, all fastened down. Most were on the floor, but a few were on shelves. He spied Rover on the far side, lying down on his own within a comfortably sized cage on the floor. He rushed over. `Hey Rover!' he called.

Rover gave a casual bark, and didn't get up. `Alright Rover,' said Zak, miffed, `don't look so pleased to see me. I've made a big effort to come and see you.'

The cage had an electronic lock. Zak tried to find the switch to open it. `Its on the right,' said a voice.

Zak jumped, not realising anyone was there. He looked round to see a man sitting on a chair, with a little black dog on his lap. The man was dark skinned and on the podgy side. He wore a suit, but appeared to be taking a breather from it, as everything that could be loosened, had been. The dog was just small enough to rest comfortably on his lap, over his pulled out shirt, and seemed fast asleep.

The man gave Zak a relaxed smile. `Thanks,' said Zak, nervously. He touched the switch and the cage door opened.

Rover lazily got up to greet him. Zak took a treat out of his pocket and waved it around, hoping to spark Rover into life. It didn't make much difference. `I thought he'd be more pleased to see me,' said Zak, sheepishly. `He usually goes a bit mad if he hasn't seen any of us for a while.' `Oh. Well a girl was here to visit him about half an hour ago,' said the man. `He's already had a few treats and been for a walk up to the dog toilet.'

Zak bit his lip. `Yes,' continued the man, `we've already made friends with Rover.'

Zak didn't want to let on how annoyed he was. He took a deep breath. `What's your dog's name?' he said. `Rocky,' said the man. `And I'm Geremi by the way.'

Zak walked over and shook his hand. `I'm Zak.' `Pleased to meet you Zak,' said Geremi, with a wide genuine smile. `Your family are emigrating to Mars I hear. It's so nice that you're bringing Rover. It's only in the last few years that these ships have offered a facility for pets. But still, not many people bring them.'

Zak noticed that the room was fairly empty. There were several empty cages, and no other dogs. A few cats were on a high shelf, out of sight of the dogs, while a few rabbits and reptiles occupied the shelf in-between. The animals were all behaving themselves. It was surprisingly peaceful.

`What about you?' asked Zak. `Are you emigrating?' `No,' said Geremi, `I work here. I manage the Tech department onboard the ship.' `Oh. What does that do?' asked Zak. `Looks after the computers,' said Geremi. `There's six people needed to run the computers on a ship like this. It's amazing how often things go wrong.' `You're allowed to bring your dog to work?' asked Zak. `Well Zak, this isn't so much my work, as my home,' said Geremi sadly. `I'm from India originally, but I have no family left alive, and these journeys mean that I'm on the move most of the time.

There's not much point in me putting down roots. Thankfully, these kennels are an ideal place to leave Rocky, and I enjoy meeting the other pets and their owners.'

Zak counted the number of pets and judged that the place would be pretty quiet most of the time. `Do you spend all your spare time down here?' he asked. `Not all, but most of it. If we're busy and I have a long shift, Rocky gets left alone for too long. So I need to make it up to him. I see plenty of the rest of the ship during work hours.'

Rocky lifted his head up and licked Geremi's hand, as if acknowledging the devotion of his owner. `Don't you find this ship a bit mind bending after a while?' asked Zak. `Not at all,' said Geremi. `Once you get to know it, it's great.' `Well I got lost on the way here,' said Zak. `Every time I thought I was getting somewhere, I arrived at a swimming pool. How many are there for god's sake?' he cried. `What's the point of a swimming pool on board a spaceship anyway?' `There's only one pool, and it's a marvellous feat of engineering,' insisted Geremi with amusement. `It's a complete loop round a hamster wheel. You can swim continuously without having to do lengths. Its very popular. I don't go often enough.' `You won't catch me using it,' said Zak. `I ran once round the reception hall, and that tired me out. I don't like swimming much anyway. We had a pool in our garden but it was always freezing.'

`I suspect that the reason you had your problem is that the pool takes up a whole ring of the ship. To get to the cargo hold, you have to go to the upper floor to get past it. Did you not watch the presentation on how to get around?' `Er.. no,' said Zak, `I must have missed it.'

Geremi stared at him suspiciously. `It's very straightforward,' he said. `Would you like me to explain?' `Okay,' said Zak. `Well, there are a few things you need to know,' said Geremi. `Every room and corridor has a little screen by every door. It's a sign that contains four elements - an arrow, a number, a letter and a disc.

These give you all the information you need.' `Oh yeah,' said Zak. `I saw those, but didn't know what they meant.' `Well, the solid black arrow points towards the front of the ship.

Remember, you are standing inside a huge cylinder. If you follow the curved floor, it takes you around the cylinder. If you follow the flat floor, you head towards either end. The Bridge is at the front, and the engine is at the back. The front is the direction we are travelling, except for the last few hours of the journey, when the ship will swivel itself around and use the rocket to brake. But regardless of which direction we are travelling, the arrow points towards the Bridge.'

Zak nodded, noting the meaning of the arrow.

Geremi continued. `The number tells you where you are along the length of the cylinder. The living area is 320 metres long. Imagine the cylinder to be chopped into slices, ten metres thick. There are 32 slices, numbered from 1, the first slice next to the Bridge, all the way to 32, the last slice next to the engine. This cargo hold takes up the whole of the last three slices, 30, 31 and 32.'

Zak nodded again. `So, you should have no trouble knowing where you are along the length of the ship,' said Geremi. `Got that,' said Zak. `So you know your slice, but it's each slice that's confusing yes?'

`That's the mind bender,' said Zak. `You can see that the ship has two floors, an upper floor and a lower floor. You can think of each slice as being made up of two rings, an inner ring and an outer ring. The inner ring is the upper floor, and the outer ring is the lower floor. The letter is either I for the inner ring or O for the outer ring. Some rooms, like this cargo hold, are two floors high.' `Yeah, I got to grips with all this soon after I arrived,' said Zak, `I should have been able to manage without the signs, so how come I still got so confused?' `Because I haven't got to the tricky bit yet,' said Geremi. `Oh,' said Zak. `The most difficult part of this is knowing where you are on each ring. It can be very disorientating and it's easy to go in the wrong direction. On the outer ring, if you make a mistake, it's a long way round.' `I noticed,' said Zak. `So, each ring is divided into four quarters, called quadrants.

These are coloured red, green, blue and yellow, in that order. Each sign shows a ring divided into four quadrants with those colours. The quadrant that glows brightly is the one you are in. It helps if you remember the order, so you can always tell which direction to go to get to the quadrant you want. It runs anti-clockwise if you're facing the front. I remember it using the mnemonic RaGBoY.' `Ragboy,' said Zak. `I'll try and remember that.' `Most places on the ship have names,' said Geremi, `like Martians' Lounge and Bar. But every place can also be referred to by slice, floor and quadrant. So these kennels are at 30-O-B, even though we're within the cargo hold. It's easy to work out which direction to go, but you should always look at the map to check your route, in case your way is blocked by a swimming pool or something. Other than that, it should be a piece of cake.' `Don't confuse me now,' said Zak.

They both laughed.

Zak wondered whether he could tell Geremi about the lifeboat incident. The man seemed friendly enough, but could he trust him? It was too early to say. If they became friends, then maybe he could tell him later.

Zak heard a voice in his ear. It was Mum. `Hello Zak. We're going for dinner. We'll be in the Red Planet Bar in fifteen minutes.' `Red Planet Bar,' said Zak, glancing at Geremi. `I'll be there.' `Head for 20-I-G,' said Geremi. `That's the entrance. The Red Planet's more of a food and coffee place than Martians'.' `This time, I'll check the signs. Thanks for your help Geremi,' said Zak. `Actually, if you're busy and you need me to take Rocky for a walk. Just give me a call.'

Geremi's smile broadened. `That's very kind of you Zak. I may well do that.'

Zak locked Rover back in his cage, checked the map on a screen in the kennels, then left for dinner.

It had been a long and stressful day. He would have been happy to skip a meal and go straight to bed. His own worries had been superceded by the MMM plot. Now that he knew how to navigate the ship, he would explore it properly tomorrow.

He had to find those men and expose the plot. Only then could he think about returning to Earth.

Chapter 5: The 18:03 to Mars

5:00am SST Saturday 11 January 2085

Zak awoke.

He had gone to bed soon after dinner, disregarding advice to stay up and adjust to onboard time. What was the point? There was no daylight to govern his sleeping pattern, and he presumed all facilities on the ship would be open twenty-four hours a day.

The cabin appeared in complete darkness. He waited for his eyes to adjust, but in vain, as there was not a single source of light. He whispered to the bedside light control, and set it low. Skye was sound asleep.

He had been so tired the night before that he hadn't bothered to change the room's colour scheme. Skye had set everything to pink.

He replaced it with a strong blue.

As arrival was on the 18 th January, he would have seven whole days on the ship. It was certainly large enough to keep him amused.

But this morning, he intended to learn his way round it completely, while scouring it for the two saboteurs.

It could be exciting, but he was quite comfy in bed, and didn't fancy getting up just yet. So instead, he decided to play Arctic War 3.

He took out the Mind Mat and laid it on his pillow. Lying flat made the body a little sleepy, and therefore sluggish in the game. But for now, that was a minor problem.

He soon encountered three major problems. First, there was noone to team-up with, as the list of players was empty. He wondered if anyone on the ship would want to play, but he hadn't yet seen any boys of his age. Second, he was playing missions he had already completed. Third, there was no cheat code available for the ship's onboard network, leaving him stuck on the junior version.

He plodded on for an hour, but gave up through boredom. It reminded him that he must call Tom.

Tom lived along the East Coast of the USA, in the same time zone as the spaceport. Conveniently, that meant Tom's time and the ship's time were aligned. Tom could cope with a call at 6am. Zak didn't want to wake Skye, so instead of shouting at Tom to wake up, he sent a notification alarm. Then, he set the cabin's wall to display the video, and turned the volume low.

He waited for Tom. There was no response. He sent another alarm, but that too failed to rouse him. Zak scratched his head, and tried to think if Tom might be out. He sent another alarm in case he was being stubborn. Finally a response. This time, the commando emerged from a tent in the desert. `Hi Zak,' said Tom, rubbing his shaved head. `Another early call.

You're going to harass me from across the solar system are you?' `Hi Tom,' whispered Zak. `Yeah you've no escape.'

The commando put his hands on his hips. `Well. Don't just stare at me like a vending-robot,' said Tom. `I'm not,' said Zak.

The commando frowned and raised his hands. `Yeah okay Zak. I'm here.' `What are you talking about!' said Zak, baffled by this response. `Didn't you have anything to say?' asked Tom.

Zak slapped his forehead. It was the communication delay. He quickly brought up the journey information on the ship's computer. A small panel appeared in the top right hand corner that read "Communication time to Earth: 31 seconds". `Can you stop beeping me, I'm up,' shouted Tom.

Zak checked to see that Skye was not being disturbed. `Sorry Tom,' he said. `I forgot. It's the delay thirty-one seconds. So it'll take about a minute to get the response. I've heard that when the delay is this long, it's better not to wait for the other person, or it will take hours to have a conversation. I think we're meant to both talk for thirty seconds, then both listen for thirty seconds.'

Tom's voice arrived again, so Zak stopped to listen. `Hey Zak. I know what it is. It's the delay…' Tom proceeded to give Zak exactly the same advice.

Zak wasn't sure how he was supposed to signal the start of a thirty second slot. He assumed Tom would start talking, so he decided to do the same. `Anyway Tom,' he said, `you can see that my attempted escape failed. I'm stuck now for the rest of the trip. Don't accuse me of not trying, I'm sending you the video proof. But don't worry, as soon as we reach Mars I'm getting on the first ship home.'

Zak suspected that was nearly thirty seconds, so he waited. A few seconds later, Tom's message began. `Zak. I didn't hear from you, and I've been wondering whether you'd changed your mind. I wouldn't blame you, I'm sure you're getting pressured about it. Arctic War 4 has just been announced - it's out in April. I'll have to start thinking about getting a replacement for you if you're definitely gone.'

Zak was alarmed. Tom shouldn't be thinking about replacing him. He was about to put Tom right, but hesitated. What had he told him already? `Er… so keep that place for me alright,' he said.

Tom had been his friend for over two years now. He could confide in him. He felt anxious, as he had reason to do so again. `Well I hope I make it back. The thing is, something bad's happened. The reason I couldn't escape is that the lifeboats were sabotaged, as you'll see on the vid. I haven't told anyone yet, because I shouldn't have been in the lifeboat room. I hope it's not the MMM.' `Okay, I believe you, we'll be waiting,' said Tom.

Zak was finding this frustrating. Tom was only just replying to the first thing he said. `Oh yeah, I finally got round to watching your video record. Your Gran's a joker isn't she? Are you sure your Dad's not taking you to Mars just so you never have to visit her again. After all, Mars is colder than the North Pole, did you know that? It doesn't look it because there's no surface water.'

Zak heard his last message begin at Tom's end, but Tom continued to talk through it. `Yeah, okay Tom, your time's up now.'

Annoyingly, Tom did not seem to grasp the message timing.

`Nice of her to give that ring to Skye. What a lovely story, I had to get the tissues out for that one. It did make me wonder though. I've learnt about that war. I won't say too much, but you might want to ask yourself where that soldier got a gold ring from…'

Tom trailed off. `What! They're almost certainly the MMM,' he burst out frantically. `You've gotta tell someone Zak! I don't want to find the next big vid I open has got your ashes streakin' across the solar system.' He paused. `Go! Now! I'm not talking to you any more until you've done something. How do we stop this conversation? I'll just turn it off. Get back to me later.'

Zak shook his head. He switched off the video, flopped back on the bed and yawned. He'd found it an exhausting conversation.

Skye turned over in her bed. He'd forgotten about Skye. He didn't want her knowing about the sabotage. Tom had raised his voice, but she wasn't renowned for waking up easily.

Zak quietly got ready, then stepped outside the cabin. Rather than follow Tom's advice, he would stick to his own plan.

The cabin number was displayed on the wall. He realised that the interior of the ship was completely tiled with video sheet. This enabled him to access the ship's computer on any wall, or any floor if he so wanted. He activated the ship's map on the wall outside the cabin, and could see that the cabin area occupied the entire upper floor of slices 1 to 15. Located at slice 14, his cabin was in economy class.

He made his way along to slice 1, where the cabin doors were far more spaced apart, then took the stairs down to the lower floor.

The stairs brought him to the elegant Galaxy Mall, which consisted almost entirely of clothes, shoes and perfume shops. The shops were open, but the place was deserted, devoid even of staff. He saw a pair of training shoes glisten in a window, and approached for a closer look. They were boys shoes, with an exterior pattern that continuously mutated. The price tag stated "S49,999". `Fifty thousand Solars!' said Zak with bemusement. `That's a year's pocket money.'

He took note of all the navigation signs, and confirmed that as he moved along the flat paths, the slice number changed, and as he moved along the curved paths, the quadrant colour changed. The mall stretched two quadrants around the ship. At one end was a door marked "Bridge and Space View".

The previous night, over dinner, Dad had told him of the Space View room. The shuttle trip had reawakened his interest in space, and he was keen to see it again with his own eyes. But he had not yet seen any outside windows on the Colossus, which didn't surprise him as they would need to be in the floor.

Beside the door, the video sheet displayed a weekly calendar. `Select time slot to book viewing,' requested a female voice. `Oh! Booked up today,' said Zak disconsolately.

He touched the earliest free slot 3pm Geoday. A successful ping sounded.

The Galaxy Mall's main entrance opened onto a wide corridor, leading along the blue quadrant all the way to reception. The ship's map labelled it the blue corridor. One side was lined by a long wall preventing entry to the green quadrant. On the other was a string of entrances to important looking rooms. At slice 3, he came to the Tech Room. Zak peered through the window and saw Geremi on the far side, in discussion with someone. He decided against disturbing him at work.

The next room, at slice 4, was the Business Centre. He peeked through the window, and the room was dominated by rows of desks with wide video displays. A few men and women in suits sat alone, apparently working.

Continuing on, he noticed that the wall blocking off the green quadrant now had misted windows, and there was a set of grand double doors further along. He approached the doors, which were open.

It was a side entrance to the Valles Marineris Restaurant.

Viewed straight ahead from Zak's position, the restaurant curved upwards. It reminded him of the Acceleration room, populated with round tables instead of rows of seats. It was huge, taking up five slices running along the ship, and, Zak supposed, taking up both green and red quadrants around it. A few of the tables were occupied, again by individuals only, and a handful of waiting staff busied themselves, in contrast to some slow moving robot table cleaners.

Just inside the door was a large screen on a stand, which displayed a food menu. It listed a comprehensive selection of food styles - Chinese, Indian, Italian, Lunar, and many more. Reading the list prompted Zak to realise that he was quite hungry. He selected American Breakfast. Another huge list of options appeared, with seemingly all possible varieties of sausage and egg. He searched for the cheapest option. `500 Solars!' he said in disgust. `No wonder we went to the Red Planet Bar.'

Despite his intention to explore the ship fully, he didn't feel free to wander into these places. It was one thing entering a forbidden but empty part of the ship, but another to enter places where staff were running around.

Leaving the restaurant he noticed a strange triangular archway on the opposite side. It was the entrance to an area called the Hideaway.

A notice read "For business, study or rest - the Hideaway lets you escape the hustle and bustle of the ship".

Zak walked through the archway and along a narrow passage, which led to one corner of a hexagonal room. Each of the six walls of the room had a door in the centre. He approached the first one on his left. The door had what looked like a window into the room, but on closer inspection he could tell it was just a picture.

He opened the door by touching the switch on the side. It swung open silently but abruptly. Within the softly lit room there were a set of armchairs and a low table, but little else. Zak touched the switch to close the door.

He noticed that on one door, the screen simply displayed a black background with the word "Occupied". Given how deserted the ship was at this time of the morning, he thought it strange that people would be in here already. He put his ear to the door, and could hear very faint murmurings, but he wasn't sure if they were voices. He touched the switch to open the door.

The word brightened momentarily. It was locked.

It was going to be a long morning. His attention quickly turned back to food. `Mum?' he said.

He was put through to his parents' cabin. There was a significant pause. `Uh. What do you want? We're not up yet.' `Money for breakfast,' said Zak. `Okay,' said Mum irritably. `You know you could use your own money and claim it back later.'

Zak's SpendCard ticked up S100. `Great,' he said. `Red Planet Bar it is then.'

He spent the rest of the morning exploring the remaining slices of the ship, but failed to spot either of the two men, or any other suspicious behaviour, despite the ship becoming busier as the morning wore on.

To ensure he would avoid it in future, he made a mental note of the swimming pool's location - the outer rings of slices 24 and 25.

His last port of call was the cargo hold, to pay Rover a visit. This time, Rover greeted him by jumping up at the cage door and barking.

He needed the toilet.

Zak took him through the back of the kennels into a very small park, consisting of a strip of grass bordered by a path and a single lamppost. `If they've got room for a swimming pool then this is disgraceful,' muttered Zak.

Zak was happy that he had obtained a complete knowledge of the ship, but evidently the two men he was looking for were keeping a low profile. Of course they could just remain in their cabins. He needed to think about how he was going to flush them out.

He didn't want to stay here, as the few cargo hold workers liked to communicate by echo. The rest of the ship was too noisy. The Hideaway appeared to be the ideal place to think it through without risk of being disturbed.

The main route back through the ship from the cargo hold was along the upper floor, known as the green corridor. As Zak made his way along it, he saw the entrance to the Red Planet Bar and decided to grab a drink. Then, to his alarm, the strange girl from the reception hall walked out of the bar, and stopped in the middle of the corridor.

He stopped also, and glanced around for something to hide behind. But to his amazement, Skye followed her out. They were talking to each other.

He had originally thought the girl might be a Japanese house robot. Obviously not!

Zak quickly realised that he should use this opportunity to meet her by accident. He took a deep breath, and continued nervously towards them.

Skye noticed him, and smirked. She whispered to the girl, who then also looked straight at him. Even from a distance their eyes met.

Zak blinked and looked around. The girls walked to meet him.

Zak found that his initial comparison of the girl to a robot was not far off the mark. Her features were strikingly similar to the standard model - dark hair, large eyes, pale blemish-free skin, all presented in perfect symmetry. She walked so elegantly that Skye slouched in comparison.

As they came close, one feature betrayed her true nature. Like most teens, Zak and Skye wore thick auto-styling artificial hair. All humanoid robots used the same system. But the fine long hair of the girl rippled and bounced in a way that would put programmed hair in a tangle. `Skye,' said Zak. He tried to smile, and hoped the nerves didn't show. `Hello Zak, you little squirt,' said Skye. `Have you worked out how to find your way round yet?'

Zak told himself to resist any baiting from Skye. `Yeah. I've got the hang of it now,' he said politely.

`This is Caviana,' she said, with a touch of superiority. `Hi. I'm Zak,' he said, nodding at Caviana. `How do you do,' said Caviana, smiling at him, and holding out her hand to shake. `How do I what?' said Zak, shaking her hand in puzzlement. He almost let out a groan when he realised how rude that sounded. `I am sorry,' said Caviana, amused at his reaction. `You must excuse my strange expressions.' `Oh,' he said. `Nice to meet you.'

He began to sweat with discomfort. She was only a touch taller than him, but he looked up as if she towered over him. He wondered if the gravity on the ship had taken a wobble, as he suddenly became unsteady on his feet. She was again standing very straight with her hands resting in a formal pose. She spoke with a posh American accent, which he found hard to place. He stared at her too intensely, and the confident relaxed smile she returned served to intimidate him further. `Don't worry Caviana,' said Skye. `I find Zak very strange.' `I have seen you once before Zak,' said Caviana, `when you ran round the reception hall.' `Oh yeah,' said Zak, with an uncertain smile, `I was just seeing how far it was.' `It took him twenty seconds to run fifty metres,' said Skye. `That is not true,' said Caviana, correcting her. `A full circuit is eighty metres.' `Yeah Skye,' said Zak. `It was still a slow time,' said Caviana, smiling mischievously.

They all laughed. Zak wondered why he was laughing. He would normally have challenged someone who criticised him, but he found his throat drying up, and his head starting to spin. She had seen and remembered him. `I prefer to swim,' said Caviana. `Have you tried the ship's swimming pool?' `Er… no,' said Zak. `It is an astonishing construction,' she said. `It was the first facility I made use of yesterday. I would recommend it to everyone.'

`It sounds great,' said Zak. `I must try it.' `Good. Perhaps you could join me this afternoon,' said Caviana.

Zak could feel himself almost choking. `Did you say you were meeting your Dad for lunch?' said Skye, almost in a panic. `Oh goodness,' said Caviana, checking her watch. `My father is waiting in the Valles Marineris Restaurant. I must go.' `See you later,' said Skye with relief. `It was lovely to meet you both,' said Caviana chirpily. She turned and trotted off down the corridor.

Zak watched in amazement.

Before reaching the end of the corridor she looked back over her shoulder and called out. `The pool at 4pm Zak!' `But..' protested Zak, as she disappeared through the doorway. `Damn!' said Skye in frustration. `I can't believe she's taken such a shine to you. She's way out of your league.' `I take it she's not owned by that old man,' said Zak, still reeling. `She's the daughter of an Ambassador. A bit strange, but I like her.' `How did you meet her?' `I was in one of the boutiques. She came up and said hello to me.

We got chatting and went for a coffee.' `She's got a weird way of talking,' said Zak. `She said she's had an unusual upbringing, but I didn't press her on it.'

Zak gazed down the corridor, while his mind speculated on what might happen. `Snap out of it Zak!' said Skye sternly. `I'd like to have someone to talk to on this trip and I could do without you drooling all over her.' `Hey don't blame me,' laughed Zak. `She told me to meet her.'

Skye tutted loudly, gave Zak a fierce stare, then stormed off.

Zak carried on laughing at Skye, but his laugh trailed off as he started to ponder Caviana's invitation.

Now life was becoming complicated.

He tried to wrest his mind back to the serious matter. What was that again? He was supposed to be planning a way to find those men.

He nipped into the Bar for a quick drink, then continued on to the Hideaway.

The archway leading to the hexagonal room acted like a noise blocker, and the silence inside made Zak's ears pop. This time, only one door wasn't labelled as "Occupied", the one previously locked.

He approached it and touched the switch to open the door.

The door swung open. There was a group of men inside. All including Zak jumped.

There were six of them and they all looked at Zak. Two of them who were standing closed their jackets, and another lifted up a screen from the table so Zak couldn't see the front of it. One tentatively put his hand over his face.

Zak kept his look of surprise, but hid the fact that he recognised two faces in the room, those he had glimpsed during his final failed escape attempt.

For a moment, all wondered what to do next.

One of them put on a big smile. A well-built man, middle-aged with fake blow-dried blond hair and a thick moustache. `It's just a boy,' he exclaimed cheerily. `What can I do for you young man?'

Zak sensed the reaction was somewhat false. `I'm sorry,' he said. `I thought the room was empty.'

The blond man was still smiling. All the others stared at Zak with severe frowns, although one still hid his face behind his palm. `No problem. We are in the middle of some business though, so if you would be so kind as to leave us. We are quite busy.'

Zak was keen to scarper, but lingered to consume the scene and survey the faces of those in the room. `Sorry again,' he said, and touched the door switch to close it.

He put his ear to the door, and heard murmurings, louder than before.

Zak stepped back and breathed deeply. There was a whole group of them. What was he to do now?

He knew he ought to tell the crew. But what should he tell them and how he should put it? Time passed while thoughts raced around his mind.

A click sounded in front of him. The door was opening. Zak reacted as if diving for cover, and made it to the archway in a split second. `Hey!' shouted a voice behind him.

Zak realised that scarpering only made him look suspicious, but he didn't want them to get familiar with his face. He kept running.

His first thought was to head back to the cargo hold. It occurred to him that he'd only been on the ship for a day, but already knew his way round effortlessly.

As he raced along the green corridor, he risked a glance behind him. None of the men were following. And why would they, Zak asked himself. They didn't know that he knew anything. He shouldn't be so jittery.

Where he stopped there were stairs leading to the lower floor.

When Zak had explored earlier, there was an attraction he had not been able to see, as it had been surrounded by people pushing to get a view. He was intrigued it was the "Hole" in Phobos Nightclub.

He descended the stairs leading to the entrance to Phobos. It was now mostly empty and the music was low. The club was a hamster wheel, one half of which was taken up with a dancefloor, and the other half with a long bar and seating area. A walkway crossed overhead through the middle of the bar. Enclosed, and with tinted windows, Zak realised the walkway was part of the green corridor leading to the cargo hold.

The "Hole" was located in the middle of the dancefloor, and occupied a two metre wide circular shaft in the floor. Around it was a railing. Zak had a good idea of what it might be.

Now, there were just two people staring into it. Zak perked up, as he saw that they were two boys about his own age, standing together.

He walked to the railing and stood at about a third of the way round from them. He glanced at them and gave a little nod. They glanced at him but didn't return it. Closer up, Zak saw that they were twins, and each seemed twice as big as him.

Zak leant over the railing and looked down. The shaft was deep, and the view was quite restricted. But at the bottom was a black disc upon which stars glided past. Zak read the information panel. It said that the shaft was two and a half metres deep, which was the distance from the floor to the outside of the ship. The window consisted of several layers of plastic and gas. The reason for the railing was not because of danger, but to give people a viewing position. The only danger would be from looking at the Sun, so the window would become tinted if the Sun was in view.

Zak watched the stars. He noticed that after about seven seconds, the same pattern of stars repeated. It appeared from his perspective that he was simply looking at a hole in the floor with a moving pattern. He focused on the fact that in reality, the stars were fixed, and it was he that was moving. Suddenly, he felt very sick, and so dizzy that he almost fell over. He gripped the railing, shut his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. The feeling subsided quickly. He noticed the twins staring at him. `Phew,' said Zak. `Looking at that nearly made me throw up.' He wondered if the window needed frequent cleaning for that reason.

The twins ignored him once again, and returned to staring into the hole. Zak was somewhat put out, and tried to decide whether he should attempt one more effort to get a friendly response. Then, one of them coughed up some phlegm, and spat on the window.

Zak looked at the mess below him. He got the message. He turned and walked out of the club. Another two to mark off as dodgy characters, he thought. But as they were unlikely to be terrorists, he would steer clear rather than keep an eye on them.

The front door of the club led out into the hamster wheel at slice 26. It was only half the width of the reception hall, and being near one end of the ship, was considerably less busy. The entrance to the swimming pool was almost as glitzy as the nightclub opposite. He hadn't yet decided whether or not to take up Caviana's offer. Sure, he wanted to meet her again, but he couldn't think of a less desirable place to do so. And what would she think of him if he didn't turn up!

He wanted to scream in frustration. All these things tormenting him. Mainly, the way his life had been turned upside down by the emigration. But also, his fear over the possible MMM plot, the aggressiveness of the two kids he'd just met, and his anxiety over Caviana.

His frustration made him want to strike out and take a bold decision. `Right,' he said to himself. `I'll tell them.'

During his exploration, he had noticed one security guard patrolling the ship. On checking the map, he found a Security Office near Reception. He would go there.

That this burden would finally be lifted infused him with positive thoughts. `Then, I'll buy some swimming trunks,' he said.

He turned to head towards the stairs. To his horror, one of the men from the Hideaway was coming down. There were so few people around, he would surely be picked out. Zak did a swift 180, and made in the opposite direction without looking back. He took the next set of stairs up to the balcony, and continued on round the wheel.

It had only been minutes since he had interrupted them. Yet already, one of them had reached this end of the ship. So were they looking for him? Before rejoining the green corridor from the other direction, he checked for the progress of the man. He was gone.

The Security Office was only at the other end of the corridor. But from Zak's viewpoint, the corridor seemed to stretch for miles the doorway onto the hamster wheel just a tiny spot of light.

He walked briskly. This was one of the busiest corridors. Perhaps he should have taken another route. If the men had spread out, another was bound to come this way.

As if to confirm his paranoia, before he reached halfway, he recognised another of the men heading towards him. Instinctively, he retreated to the nearest exit, which led to the Entertainment Lounge.

From behind the leaves of a tall potted plant, he spied on the man, who paced slowly, and peered casually into every window.

Zak berated himself again. He could just stroll on to the Security Office. What could the man do without causing a scene? And within minutes it would be all over.

But there was still a risk. That he wouldn't be believed. That the men would recognise him.

He would hide for a short while until the man had moved on, then continue. Behind him, stairs led to the lower floor. A sign pointed to "Games Room". `Not my thing,' muttered Zak, `but it'll do.'

Chapter 6: Another World

2:00pm SST Saturday 11 January 2085

At the bottom of the stairs, at 22-O-Y, Zak found himself in what was called the Games Room. Yet they weren't games in the sense that he was used to, but gambling machines. There were devices of various shapes and sizes, of which the most spectacular were tall crescent-shaped machines crammed with flashing lights and images.

An old man was playing one of the machines. He stood in the middle of the crescent, following a pulse of light on a route around the display. He repeatedly hit a glowing red button as the credit counter fell rapidly "S900, S800, S700,…S100, S0". `Bah!' said the old man, who waved a SpendCard in front of the credit counter, which immediately ticked back up to S2000.

Zak felt no desire to play these machines. Besides, a notice declared that only persons aged twenty-one and over were allowed to play. But just as he was about to continue on, his curiosity was jabbed by a young boy's voice on the other side. `No way! You robbed me.'

Zak walked round, to see a very scruffy kid playing another of the machines. The boy was somewhat shorter than Zak, but looked only a year or two younger. Still, far too young to be playing. `C'mon, gimme a cherry. Yes!' he cried.

The sound of coins dropping could be heard. There were no coins, but the credit counter shot up to S3000. `Haha! Pretending that's it, are you?' said the boy, taunting the machine. `Come on, I know there's more.'

Zak watched as the boy darted around the display, pressing buttons here and there, to the accompaniment of the machine's light and sound show. He was impressed with the boy's apparent expertise, but within a minute, the counter had dwindled to zero. `Aw no!' wailed the boy, looking dejected. `That's my payout you stupid machine. Don't give it to the next idiot who comes along.'

He turned his head and saw Zak, then perked up. `Hey matey, got any Solars on you?' he said excitedly. `Why?' asked Zak with concern.

`You can have a go. Its only a hundred a pop,' said the boy. `How can I?' said Zak. `You have to be an adult to play that. It won't accept my card.' `Yeah. I found this card,' said the boy, holding it up. `It must belong to an adult, but it's run out of credit.'

Zak decided not to ask what would happen when its owner tracked down where it had been used. He frowned. `I don't fancy a go anyway,' he said. `Well, could you lend me 500?' said the boy. `This machine's about to have a really big payout, I'm sure of it. I'll give you 5000 Solars out of the winnings.'

Zak was taken aback, rattled by the amounts involved. 500 Solars was almost half a week's pocket money. To give it to a scrawny kid he'd just met was ridiculous. But, the boy obviously knew his way round the machine, and he stood to gain considerably if the boy was right. He didn't like to say no. `Okay then,' said Zak. He took out his SpendCard, and held it near the one in the boy's hand. Printed on the card was a set of buttons, containing numbers and transaction operations. He typed "TR.500", to transfer 500 Solars. `Nice one matey,' said the boy.

The boy returned to the machine and waved the card in front of it.

The credit counter flashed "S500". In what seemed like just ten seconds of flashing lights and beeps, it ticked back down to 0, and that was it.

Zak's jaw dropped. The boy threw his arms up in the air. `Aw no! What's going on?' wailed the boy, swinging a halfhearted kick at the machine, but deliberately missing.

He turned to Zak again. `Can I borrow another 500? It's holding out,' he said.

Zak, stung by the loss of 500 Solars so quickly, wasn't in the mood to be generous a second time. `No! I don't reckon it's going to pay out at all,' he said angrily. `It is!' protested the boy. `I've been watching it all day. I know how it works.'

`Yeah, well I don't believe you,' said Zak. He pointed his finger at the boy. `And I expect to get my 500 back, before we get to Mars.' `Hey, it's your loss,' said the boy, shrugging his shoulders.

Zak felt like storming off, but wanted to think of a retort before doing so. They both stood there without saying anything for a few seconds. It was the boy who changed the subject. `So, what's your name and where you coming from?' he barked.

Zak let out a sigh. Despite what had just happened, he was glad to find a friendly boy of similar age at last. He had other pressing matters, but could afford to spare a few more minutes. `Zak. I'm from England, Europe.' `I know where England is you lump of nano-mould. I'm Darren, but my brothers call me Dazzer.' `Right,' said Zak, presuming he was expected to brush off the insult. `Everyone just calls me Zak.' `Then I'll call you Zakman. Just so you know it's me,' said the boy, with a mischievous grin.

Zak mused on that for a moment, and had an idea. `Well if we're going to give each other nicknames, then I'll call you Ragboy,' he said. `Ragboy?' said Ragboy, puzzled. `So where are you from?' said Zak quickly, to avoid discussing the name. Having recognised a hint of an Aussie accent, he half expected the answer. `Melbourne. It's alright. Ever been there?'

Zak dreaded the thought of mentioning his Gran in case it turned out Ragboy lived next door. `No,' he said. `You ever been on this ship before?' asked Ragboy. `No, this is my first time to Mars. We're emigrating. What about you?' `This is my second time on the ship. My dad goes to Mars and back every few months, and we go with him. Last time we came back on this ship when it was almost brand new. It's great fun.' `Yeah, it took me a while to get used to it, but I know my way around now,' said Zak.

`Oh yeah,' said Ragboy, with full grin. `Bet you don't know the whole ship.' `I know most of it. I've checked the ship's map, and I've been everywhere now apart from the staff rooms.' `But the ship's map only shows half the ship.' `I know. Half the ship is taken up with the engine,' said Zak. `No. Even in the living area, the map only shows you half,' said Ragboy.

Zak was finding this irritating. `I've been all around this ship using the map. It's not missing anything,' he said. `You don't believe me?' said Ragboy. He pointed up. `Look at the ceiling in here. Now go up those stairs and look at the floor.'

Zak stared at him with renewed suspicion. `Go on. I'm not japing ya,' insisted Ragboy.

Zak considered immediately walking away and avoiding Ragboy for the rest of the trip. But his curiosity just outweighed that choice. `Okay,' he said, indicating he was still unconvinced.

He noted the height of the ceiling, then ran up the stairs to check the floor of the upper floor. He could sense that there was indeed a very big gap between the two, although the design of the interior cleverly disguised it. He ran back down. `You're right,' he said, with amazement. `So what's between the floors?' `The maintenance zone,' said Ragboy. `It's a huge space, and it lets you get behind every wall. It's a whole world and you don't even notice it's there.' `Well, you learn something interesting every day,' said Zak. His curiosity satisfied, the urge to scarper was becoming overpowering. `So, wanna take a look?' asked Ragboy. `Not really,' said Zak, now ready to run. `The maintenance guys leave the computers logged in. You can spy on other passengers,' said Ragboy hopefully.

Zak screwed his face up. Ragboy had hooked him again. He thought of the men from the Hideaway. This could be a chance to find out what they were up to. Of course, he ought to be on his way to report them. But it might help to gather a bit more evidence.

He checked the time. It was only just gone 2pm. He decided to follow Ragboy until he obtained some valuable information, but then he would go straight to the Security Office. `That could be interesting,' he conceded. `Come with me then!' said Ragboy cheerily.

Ragboy headed back up the stairs, with Zak in tow.

Zak wasn't sure that he had found a friend in Ragboy. Somehow he was allowing himself to be strung along. But he felt that if Ragboy had a few secrets to hand, he could be a useful person to know.

Ragboy led Zak around the upper floor of the Entertainment Lounge until they reached the red quadrant, then through a door marked "Staff Only". They had walked purposefully, and Zak could tell that no-one took any notice of them.

They faced a corridor leading to more doors, shaped like the cabin area. Ragboy stopped at the first door on the right, and touched the switch to open it. No-one was inside, so they darted in and shut the door behind them.

The room was a small untidy office. There was a single desk with a large screen attached. The walls were cluttered with information displayed by the ship's computer. Zak presumed it was all confidential. One wall had a large chart with names, rooms and times, with numerous lists placed around its border. Another wall was running a slide show of topless ladies. `Blimey,' he said with a laugh, `anybody could just walk in here.' `We just have,' said Ragboy. `I mean people with bad intentions,' said Zak.

There were doors to the left and straight ahead.

It hit Zak that he shouldn't be there. He was supposed to be reporting the sabotage, not getting into more trouble. `Come on,' said Ragboy, grabbing Zak's sleeve. He led him through the door straight ahead, past a pile of blue overalls.

They left behind the interior design and entered the industrial part of the ship. The next room served only one purpose. It was featureless apart from an open square hatch in the ceiling, and a ladder leading up to it. Ragboy quickly climbed the ladder, and peeked out. `It's all clear,' he said.

Zak followed him up, and climbed out onto the roof of the room.

As Ragboy had promised, there was a world behind the world.

There was more than enough room for Zak to stand fully upright, and from his vantage point, it appeared as though he was looking down at a network of huts, connected by doorways. He could see that each room on the ship was separated by a passageway on all sides.

The area had a dark but clean feel to it. The walls and roofs were all black, but with silver, red and white pipes and cables sparsely but tidily stretched around. There was the odd metal box drawing in the pipes, which made a steady noise.

Zak realised that here, above the upper floor, he was close to the central axis of the ship. This was made obvious by the highly curved ceiling and floor, giving him a limited view in the direction of the curve. In contrast, he could see along the entire length of the ship.

By the edge of the roof, another ladder stretched up into a hole in the ceiling. Zak walked over to see how far it extended. The short walk made him light headed, and his balance was unsteady. He peered over the edge, causing him to grab hold of the ladder in panic. It went so far down through a hole in the floor that he couldn't see the bottom of it.

He took a deep breath, and, safely holding on, tried to comprehend what he was seeing. Ragboy was on hand to explain. `We're in the upper maintenance zone,' he said. `You can get the other side of every wall and ceiling on the upper floor of the ship. The ladder goes down through that hole to the lower maintenance zone, and you can do the same there. It's a long way down.' `And it goes up as well?' `Yeah,' said Ragboy. `That leads to the solid core. We're so close to it that we're almost weightless.'

Zak wondered if this was what it would be like walking on Mars.

A maintenance worker started climbing out of another hatch not far along the ship, but with his back to them. `Get to the ground! We can't let 'em see us,' whispered Ragboy urgently.

They hurried down the ladder and jumped the last few feet to avoid the hole.

The passageways were tall and narrow, with just enough room for two people to get past each other. They did not extend far in any direction, due to the doorways connecting the rooms inside. Steps led over these doorways, so they did not create a significant barrier. `So where can we spy on the passengers?' asked Zak. `Ah. We have to find a log-in first,' said Ragboy. `Just check the walls.'

The passageway in which they were standing stretched twenty metres along the ship, and was crossed by passageways along the direction of the curve. The shape reminded Zak of a ribcage. `But I can't see any computer access around here,' he said. `Give us a chance!' said Ragboy. `Follow me we stay on the ground, and only go up to get over a doorway.'

They followed the direction of the curve, and clambered over the steps into the next passageway. `You're not being watched are you?' asked Ragboy. `Watched. You mean by my mum and dad?' said Zak. `Nah.

They're spending most of their time in that acting game, Classic Movie.'

Suddenly, they heard voices and footsteps on the metal floor.

They darted into a short passageway and waited. The voices came closer. `Er… we'd better move on again quick,' whispered Ragboy.

They clambered over the steps at the end of that passageway. But to their alarm, the voices still grew louder. Then, more voices joined in from another direction. Was this just a trick of the mind? A small amount of panic set in. `I think we'd better scarper,' said Zak.

They moved quickly. The criss-cross layout of the passageways meant there was usually a choice of three directions at each junction, and they picked the one that seemed to lead them away from the approaching engineers. As they crossed over each doorway, Zak caught sight of more engineers working on the roofs far along the ship. It was only a matter of time before they were spotted. `Well done mate,' said Zak in a whisper. `I think you picked their coffee break to sneak in.' `Next time,' said Ragboy, `we should put the overalls on. It won't be so risky.' `Next time!' said Zak.

Zak noticed signs on the walls that indicated the location of the rooms within. Despite their random walk, he began to connect their position with the places familiar to him on the other side. That was useful, but he had another concern. `Do you know the way out?' he asked. `Don't worry about that yet,' said Ragboy. `We're going to get trapped in a minute we need to cross Reception. It'll be quieter on the other side.'

Zak knew by now that would mean a twenty metre break across open roof. But Ragboy knew a few tricks. He led them round the curve until no engineers could be seen, and they crossed in relative safety.

They had reached the cabin area. They continued to wander until Zak heard new voices from around a corner up ahead, and signalled to Ragboy to stop. This time, there were no footsteps, just conversation. `She said the ceiling lights aren't working,' said a man, `so just check the power feed will you.' `According to the readings it's cutting out,' said another. `But the switch here seems in good order. We'd better check inside the room.'

Zak could hear the two men climb some steps. He peeked and saw them on the roof heading away. When they had gone, Ragboy followed the passageway round to where the men had been standing. `What did I tell ya! It's still logged on,' he said.

The wall showed a large diagram of a cabin, along with a host of technical readings. Zak realised that even these walls were covered in video sheet, but by default displayed the same metallic black as the painted ceiling and floor. `This is good,' said Ragboy. `The other time I got access, I was only able to look at the CCTV. Now we've got access to the life support system.'

Zak wondered with concern what Ragboy would want to do with that. `But let's do some spying first,' said Ragboy.

He backed out of the maintenance menus and entered the CCTV page. `Where shall we look?' he asked Zak, with his big grin. `Can see every room on the ship except the cabins and senior staff rooms.

Whoever's logged in here hasn't got clearance for those.'

Zak realised that Ragboy had actually delivered on his word. He now had the opportunity to spy. `Hmm,' he said. `There are some passengers I'd like to watch.' `Who?' asked Ragboy. `Oh. I don't know their names,' said Zak. `We can search the passenger list by features,' said Ragboy smugly. A new page appeared entitled Passenger Roster. `There's a few with moustaches,' said Zak.

Ragboy selected an option. Zak could see what Ragboy was going to do, and vainly wished that he was in control. `Fifty-eight with 'tache,' replied Ragboy, navigating the system with ease. An array of faces appeared on screen, all with moustaches. `That's a lot. I think 'taches must be back in fashion,' said Zak, scanning the pictures. Within moments, he'd recognised three men.

There was one he was most interested in. `What about him,' he said, pointing to the well-built man who had spoken to him in the Hideaway. `Vladimir Krushkov,' said Ragboy. `Sounds Russian. He's in the Red Planet Bar.'

A live view of Krushkov quickly filled the wall. He was sitting with two people around a table. The camera was centred and zoomed on him, providing a perfect picture. `I don't even recognise the others. Is there sound?' asked Zak. `I think so, but they aren't talking,' said Ragboy. `Seems they're doin' nuthin'. Their eyes are open so they're not using a Mind Patch.

Maybe they're just watchin' and waiting.'

Ragboy requested identification of the other two men. `Surnames of Zahedi and Ubogu,' he said. `Their cabins are all different Y-13, R-34, R-18. So they aren't booked in together, but they are sharing. Zahedi is with a guy called Saltzmann, Ubogu with Brigard. If we had enough time I reckon we could piece together the whole group.' `Nice work Ragboy,' said Zak, genuinely excited at the prospect of investigating these men. `Thanks Zakman,' said Ragboy, with a proud smile. `Do you want to see something else cool?' `Er..okay,' replied Zak, excitement turning sharply to suspicion.

Ragboy backed out of the CCTV menus and returned to the page originally on display. `Maintenance page for the room in front of us,' he said. `We can't see inside, but there's lots of readings here. One person, room temperature twenty-five degrees.' `There's an option to turn off power to the room,' pointed out Zak with surprise. `And we can change the temperature,' said Ragboy.

The two boys looked at each other in anticipation.

Due to the thought control interface, it was hard to form a natural barrier between the thought of doing something, and the act of instructing the computer to do it. On screen, the temperature gauge started falling, down through red, into blue.

Suddenly there was a scream, the sound of it muffled by the wall.

It was a woman. `Who turned out the lights. Hey! Hey its freezing,' she cried. `Uh-oh, she's going to alert the crew,' said Zak. `We'd better shut off communications.'

`Done,' said Ragboy.

The two boys started laughing. `Oi! Someone answer me,' cried the woman. `Lock the door,' said Ragboy, as he did so. `Turn off the water,' said Zak excitedly. `Cut off the air,' beamed Ragboy.

They looked at each other. `No, we'd better not go too far,' said Zak.

Suddenly, they heard male voices from behind the wall. It was the engineers. `Don't worry lady, we'll get you out of there,' shouted one of them. `It's no use,' shouted the other. `It's been locked. Someone must be messing with the controls. Get someone to check the screen we were using.' `Hurry up!' she cried.

It went ominously quiet as the shouting stopped. `Quick, let's scarper,' said Ragboy.

He logged out of the system, but without resetting the life support for the cabin back to normal. `Any idea of the way out now?' asked Zak. `We'll have to go back up to the top and find one of the hatches,' said Ragboy. `But they'll be coming in that way,' said Zak. `Yeah,' said Ragboy. `Perhaps we'd better lie low for a bit. Let's drop down into the lower floor.' `We'd better use that ladder,' said Zak, pointing to the nearest one he could see.

They raced over to it. Ragboy peered down through the hole to check the coast was clear, then they descended.

The lower maintenance zone was constructed along the same lines as the upper, but appeared more vast. The curvature was gentler, so it was possible to see further around the ship. The rooms were a lot bigger than the cabins, some taking up multiple slices and quadrants, evident from the large curved roofs. Also, unlike the upper floor the view along the ship was restricted by the solid wall of a hamster wheel. `Behind that wall must be reception,' said Zak. `Yeah, that's right. After a while, you recognise where you are from the shapes,' said Ragboy.

They reached the ground of the lower floor, but could hear a growing clamour of alerted engineers.

Zak had noticed that the ladder continued down through another dark hole in the floor. `Where does that go?' he asked with trepidation. `Out into space?' `I dunno, I never went down there,' said Ragboy, no longer grinning but looking as uneasy as Zak. `But maybe we'd better try it.'

They had no time to debate options. They heard footsteps approaching from the rooftops. The hole was the only way out.

They lowered themselves in, to discover a very narrow gap between the floor they had been standing on and yet another floor.

The gap was only a metre high, so they had to lie face down and crawl along it. Zak presumed that they had finally reached the outer shell of the ship, as the floor was featureless. There was no covering, just bare metal, with thick steel columns connecting it to the ceiling.

Pipes and cables protruded from the ceiling, but simply ran along it and entered somewhere else. `This is creepy,' said Ragboy. `It's the wierdest place I've ever been,' said Zak.

Zak found that on each level, the geometry of the ship created a different effect. Here, he couldn't quite see all the way to either end of the ship, but only because the floor and ceiling seemed to meet in the distance. Despite being out at the least curved part of the ship, the minimal height meant he could only see a few metres to either side as the floor curved up.

He had never suffered claustrophobia, but the tightness of this space made him feel vulnerable, like he was crawling under a giant pipe, which at any moment could fall and crush him. `If we move along the curve, they won't be able to see us,' said Zak.

Ragboy, in unexplored territory, kept quiet and followed him.

They scrambled along until the hole was well out of sight then stopped to assess the danger. Zak caught sight of the light from another hole further along the ship. `Let's try and get out that way,' said Zak, changing direction to crawl towards it.

He reached the hole first, but found that it was not a direct route as before. Something was blocking the way. He put his head up for a closer look, and a light breeze caught his face. He recognised the blurry image - a fast rotating fan enclosed within a grille. `It's just a fan. Though there's a space behind it with light coming through.' `If we can't get through then let's try another one,' said Ragboy. `Wait, there's a handle on it,' said Zak.

He grabbed the handle and pushed. To his surprise, the fan lifted up on hinges. This created a gap big enough for Zak to squeeze through. He pushed his head and shoulders against the grille and up into the space.

Zak recognised something in the distance. It was the track for the pod. They were in the reception hall, under the bench his family had sat on. A few people walked past, and Zak could see their lower legs and feet. He laughed quietly. `Ragboy, take a look at this,' he said.

Ragboy and Zak swapped places. `Brilliant,' said Ragboy. `I never knew about this. I wonder if there's any more of these fans.' `There must be,' said Zak. `There's enough room to get out, but we'll get spotted here,' said Ragboy.

Zak recalled that he had other urgent business, not least his swimming date at 4pm. He would need time to get ready for it.

`We'd better get a move on then,' said Zak. `I've got things to do.'

They continued further along the ship and found another hole to climb out of, taking them back up to the lower maintenance zone. The commotion had died down, and there were no engineers in sight. The boys clambered onto a roof. The length of this section was relatively short. Zak reckoned they were now between the reception hall and Phobos nightclub. `We can get out there,' said Ragboy, pointing to a hatch in the top of a roof.

The room was empty, so they climbed down the ladder. Ragboy opened the only door, to find an empty office on the other side. Both boys gave a big sigh of relief. `We're at 20-O-G, so this door should take us straight into the Red Planet Bar,' said Ragboy.

Ragboy reached for the switch to open it, but it opened before his hand touched the switch. Standing in the doorway were four men in overalls. They stared at the boys angrily.

*

4:30pm SST Saturday 11 January 2085 Zak was taken to a room among the Security offices, and locked in there on his own, with Ragboy taken elsewhere. That was at 3pm.

The decision on whether to go swimming had been made for him.

The door opened, and in walked a man wearing a crisp blue blazer who he hadn't seen before, followed by Mum and Geremi.

They sat down, Mum next to Zak, the man behind a desk and Geremi beside him.

Zak presumed the man was in a very senior position. He was certainly senior by age. His face sagged, and his belly drooped over his trousers, pushing out the buttons on his blazer. He looked as if he'd had enough of whatever it was he had to face daily. It dawned on Zak that adding to this man's workload was not a good idea. `Zak Carter,' said the man. `I am Mr. Herbet, the Chief Security Officer on this ship.'

Zak detected a faint French accent. Maybe he had said "Monsieur" Herbet. `You have been detained because you have broken a number of rules laid down for passengers. As you are a child, we are required to involve your parents.'

Mum interrupted. `Zak, I'm disappointed in you, why did you do it?' `Sorry. I just met this kid, and we went exploring. I didn't mean any harm.' `No long term harm has been done, fortunately,' said Herbet with a stare. `But Mrs. Yaku is confined to the Medical Centre with a chill, and is very upset.' `We just got carried away,' said Zak. `Hmm. Let's see what you've been up to,' said Herbet, bringing up a report on the wall. `You entered the maintenance zone, a restricted part of the ship. That's not a play area Zak, you could have done some serious damage. You messed with the life support system, and could have killed that poor woman if the engineers hadn't been to hand. Your friend Darren Thorne stole a SpendCard and used it in an over-18s gambling machine. You transferred him funds to continue.'

Zak hadn't realised he'd done so many things wrong. He had completely forgotten about the SpendCard.

Herbet frowned at him intensely. Geremi sat staring at his own hands resting on his lap. `This incident has meant that we're going to have to change some of our procedures and tighten security,' said Herbet. `It means diverting resources from other areas, which is frustrating for us.'

Zak thought of the ease with which he and Ragboy had entered the maintenance zone and wondered why it would be a problem tightening security. `How could you do this Zak?' said Mum, outraged. `You've been getting into such mischief lately, and I think it's because you pick the wrong friends.'

Zak rolled his eyes. `Giving that young thief money is a new low,' she said. `Give me your SpendCard.'

`Hey?' exclaimed Zak. `You'll have to ask me if you want anything,' said Mum.

Zak sighed. He took out his SpendCard and handed it to her. Not having a card made life awkward, but he wasn't in the best position to protest. `Mrs. Carter,' said Herbet. `I have been given a good reference for Zak, by Geremi here, our Tech manager.' `Yes, I have already met Zak,' said Geremi. `My inclination is not to come down too hard for a first offence, especially as his crime is essentially being over-inquisitive.'

Herbet twitched his nose. Mum looked puzzled, but said nothing. `So Zak,' continued Herbet, `we'll take no further action with you over this incident. But, I must stress that it is very dangerous to venture beyond the designated passenger zone. There is plenty of entertainment on the ship, and we have the latest games available to play free. So please, keep your adventures within these bounds.'

Zak had his head bowed slightly, and offered no defiance. `Okay,' he said.

Herbet turned to Mum. `That is all, madam. If you don't mind, I would like to have a word with Zak about some of the settings that were tampered with.' `Not at all,' said Mum.

She stood up and glared at Zak. `We're having dinner at 6pm,' she said. `Be there, or go without.'

She left the room, looking rather embarrassed by the whole affair.

After the door closed, Herbet got up and moved to sit on the front of the desk, confronting Zak. Geremi remained where he was. `We've reviewed the queries that were made to the system,' said Herbet, taking a more stern tone. `You and Darren were checking out some people in detail. Why was that?' `Those guys,' answered a surprised Zak. `I wanted to see what those guys were up to. They've sabotaged the lifeboats. They could be the MMM...'

Herbet interrupted, shaking his head in disbelief. `Hold on a minute! What do you mean they've sabotaged the lifeboats? How would you know something like that?'

`Well, I wandered in there by mistake,' said Zak unconvincingly, `and a couple of them were there, bashing the door levers.' `And you didn't think to tell us?' asked a clearly sceptical Herbet.

Zak was struggling to think of a plausible explanation. `I know I shouldn't have been in there,' he said. `But I think these guys are dangerous.'

The Chief Security Officer continued to stare at Zak. `We have a security team on board this ship,' he said. `Every passenger has undergone a vetting procedure, and all baggage has been rigorously scanned. There will be no hijacking on this ship.'

Zak was stunned. `I didn't say anything about a hijacking,' he said. `That's what you were suggesting wasn't it,' said Herbet. `We know very well that hijackers are targeting these passenger ships, but it won't happen on this ship. Do you understand me?'

Zak was taken aback by the arrogance of what he'd just heard. He could see Geremi shifting awkwardly, head bowed. `Well myself and Rag.., I mean Darren, just walked right into the maintenance zone. It doesn't look that secure to me,' he protested. `Well thanks for the warning. Let us deal with it,' said Herbet firmly. He smiled at Zak with disdain.

Zak stared back in disbelief. `You can go now,' said Herbet.

Zak left the room, marched out to the Reception hamster wheel and slumped onto the balcony railing. His mind was reeling, as if he was once again feeling the ship's rotation. The Chief Security Officer was going to do nothing! Something terrible could be about to happen, and he didn't want to know. Even Geremi did not acknowledge it.

Zak tried to reason. If he didn't have the support of the crew, why should he take the risk of getting involved? The answer was obvious. If he didn't act, he would be doomed too.

Chapter 7: On The Outside

Zak crept away after dinner and returned to his cabin. To escape his troubles for a while, he took Herbet's advice and spent the evening playing the latest jet-car racer - Skytrack. He became so absorbed in it that by the time he lifted his head off the Mind Mat, he found the lights out and Skye asleep in bed.

As he settled into bed, his troubles returned to occupy his mind.

Krushkov's gang were planning something. But if Security were not willing to investigate them, what could he do about it? He would have to gather more evidence, and this time confront Geremi with it!

He imagined a hijack taking place. A confrontation. Then a gun battle between the gang and Security. He would be confident in taking on the hijackers in a gunfight. One of the security men had been armed when he was escorted, so there was at least one gun on board.

The thought intrigued him. He had never considered what it would be like in a real-life situation. When he played a game, he acted as though it was his real life to lose. But was that really true? He did take risks, because he always knew that if he failed he could have another go. He took pride in his achievement that no matter how badly his team-mates played, he always completed a mission by the third attempt. That statistic rattled him now. In real life, he would only get one attempt. In real life, one mistake and it would be all over.

His confidence disintegrated within a matter of moments. It occurred to him that maybe he was in over his head.

*

9am SST Geoday 12 January 2085 After a restless night, Zak woke late. He found that Skye had already left the room, which suited him, as he felt sorry for himself and didn't want to talk to anyone. He returned the room's colour scheme to blue, scoffed the complimentary biscuits, and stayed in to play Skytrack.

Throughout the morning he progressed quickly through the game.

He wondered if he should make jet-car racing his ambition instead.

Like V-Commando, jet-car racing would be a fatal endeavour in real life, so it did not exist as an actual sport. The famous drivers were all champions of the virtual world. Maybe it wouldn't be so different for him.

Eventually, hunger began to override the senses fed by the Mind Mat, and he realised he should get lunch.

He was almost ready to venture out, when the cabin door opened.

Skye had returned, and joining her was Caviana.

Zak didn't know what to do. He hated being caught off guard this way.

Caviana walked right up to him `Hello Zak,' she said pleasantly.

Zak smiled nervously. He thought she looked even more stunning than before, despite her unnatural neatness and the strange embroidery on her clothes. `Hi,' he said. `I'm sorry, I couldn't make it to the pool yesterday.' `Yeah,' laughed Skye, `because you were locked up by Security.' `Oh!' said Caviana.

Zak wouldn't thank Skye for that revelation. `I went exploring with this kid, and we went into an off-limits part of the ship,' explained Zak. `Did you receive any punishment?' asked Caviana. `No, just a warning,' he said.

Caviana remained facing Zak, effectively blocking his exit. Was this deliberate or just part of her wierdness? Why did he feel like a pigeon caught in the headlights of a jet-car? `Are you unable to resist adventure?' she asked. `What d'you mean?' `Skye tells me that you intend to become a professional VCommando player,' she said. `Yeah!' said Zak enthusiastically, glad things had turned to something positive. `At Christmas, I made the top 10,000 in the world rankings. But one day, I'll become World Champion.'

Just saying the words made him proud. He wondered if she would ask him which world. `I do not like V-Commando,' said Caviana. `It is violent and ugly. I cannot bear to watch it.' `Oh,' he said. She may as well have slapped him in the face.

Unlike Skye, Caviana did not display great emotion to go with her strong words. She still looked at him with a slight smile. He found her very hard to read, but he sensed she expected him to respond. `Well…' he stuttered, `it's just a sport. Nobody gets hurt, permanently I mean.' `That may be so,' said Caviana, `but I think it draws out the nasty side of human nature.' `You tell him,' said Skye. `He's got more and more aggressive since he started playing that game.' `Really!' snapped Zak. `So where do you get your aggression from?'

Skye was building up for an explosive response but Caviana got in first. `To be fair,' she said, `I think relationship games can bring out the worst in people too.'

Skye breathed out through gritted teeth. `How would you know?' asked Zak with surprise. `I have played simulations,' she said smiling. `Sometimes, I get angry.'

Skye and Zak laughed. `I can't believe that,' said Skye.

Zak heard a little tune through his ear implant - a request to speak. It was unusual to receive a request, as on most occasions the caller just opened the channel and shouted at him. The call was from Geremi. Given Geremi's reticence the last time they met, he did not know what to expect. `Hi,' he said cautiously. `Hello Zak,' said Geremi. `Do you have half an hour to spare?' `Yeah,' said Zak. `What is it?' `I'm very busy at the moment,' said Geremi. `Lots of problems to attend to. I wonder if you could see to Rocky for me.'

Zak breathed a sigh of relief. `Of course,' he said. `I'll go right away.' `Good lad,' said Geremi. `I'm sorry about yesterday,' said Zak, `but Herbet seems a bit casual to me.' `I know,' said Geremi. `Listen, I haven't time to talk to you now, but we will talk again soon, okay?' `Okay,' said Zak.

Skye and Caviana stared at him expectantly. `It was a man about a dog,' said Zak. `I have to go.'

He smiled uncomfortably at Caviana and eased past her, then pulled a face at Skye and left the cabin.

*

2pm SST Geoday 12 January 2085 After seeing to Rocky, Zak joined his parents for lunch in the Red Planet Bar - again. They had yet to visit the posh restaurant.

But for Zak the Bar was not without fascination. On close inspection, the deep red walls, floor and tables all seemed to come from a single plasto-marble mould. The black sponge seating was gently heated. And despite the dark colours, hundreds of discreet lights gave the place a bright glow.

Without his SpendCard, he would be compelled to rely on Mum and Dad for every meal. Skye had her freedom, and was nowhere in sight. The two of them were clearly still angry with him, which led to an uneasy silence at the table. This suited Zak. His mind was elsewhere.

Geremi's request had raised his spirits. Did Geremi take his story seriously? He would find out when they next spoke, which he hoped would be soon. He had just wasted a whole morning, paralysed by the fear of what might happen if he got involved, yet what might happen if he didn't.

His mind's other obsession was Caviana. He was intimidated by her. Her directness continually put him on the spot. It was disappointing that she was so anti V-Commando, and considered how he might change her mind. He liked her - a lot, but had no idea how things could progress due to the cultural barrier between them.

The silence continued until he had nearly finished his lunch. Dad fidgeted his way through half of his, then placed his cutlery down. `Zak,' he said. `We need to talk.'

Zak inadverently gulped down a mouthful of food. He did not want to talk, but it would be too rude to just get up and walk out. He needed a delaying tactic. `Oh,' he said. `Could we wait till I've finished?'

He took another big spoonful in an effort to get through his food as quickly as possible. `Well, let me say what I want to say,' said Dad, calmly.

Suddenly, Zak's attention was drawn to some waving from outside the bar. It was Ragboy.

He was glad that he hadn't exchanged contacts with Ragboy, but was more than pleased to see him right now. `Alright mate!' he shouted, returning the wave.

He turned back to Mum and Dad, who looked like they had missed an opportunity. `I'd better go say hello,' he said, getting up and putting the last big spoonful in his mouth. `Thanks,' he mumbled.

He would inevitably have to endure the grilling from his parents at some point. But he made a mental note to prepare for it before it happened.

He turned out of the entrance to meet Ragboy, only to find him flanked by two larger companions twins! Was this some kind of setup? Zak got ready to run. `Alright Zaktar. I've been lookin' all over for you, where you been?' said Ragboy, with a genuine smile.

It put Zak at ease. But he wasn't going to attempt conversation with the other two.

`Ragboy. I've been in my cabin,' said Zak, slightly cynically. `You got me into a lot of trouble yesterday. Herbet read me a list of charges. I felt like a criminal with years behind me.' `I got you into trouble!' exclaimed Ragboy. `You wanted to spy on people.' `Yeah. I suppose I should have known better. What happened to you anyway?' asked Zak. `I got told off, that's all,' said Ragboy. `It happens to me all the time.'

The boy on the left of Ragboy spoke up. His voice was thuggish. `Hey Dazzer, is this the kid that got you inta trouble yesterday?'

Zak recognised him as the one who spat. `Yeah, he's a right troublemaker,' joked Ragboy, `but he's alright.'

Still, the twins made no effort to acknowledge Zak. `Hey Zaktar, these are my brothers Barry and Garry. I call them Bazzer and Gazzer.'

Ragboy had not indicated which was which. `Do you have any sisters?' asked Zak. `One, Sharon.' `Do you call her Shazzer?' `No,' said Ragboy, in a surprised tone, `just Sharon.' `Hey!' spoke the boy on the right of Ragboy, whose voice was startlingly squeaky. `Don't go getting our little bruvva inta trouble again, or we'll get ya.' `Right,' replied Zak, remembering the fact that Ragboy was already effectively in trouble before he'd even met him.

After delivering their warning, Bazzer and Gazzer walked on, sandwiching Zak as they went past.

Ragboy stayed behind. `So,' he whispered, as if Security might be listening in, `are we going to do some more spying?'

Zak shuddered. He certainly wanted to. But what about the risk? `Herbet told me not to interfere,' he said weakly.

`Hey don't take any notice of him,' said Ragboy. `He was just angry 'cause we'd shown up how terrible security is around here. I watched those guys this morning, and they were acting very suspiciously. You can bet Herbet and his dummies aren't keeping an eye on 'em. It's up to us to do something about it.'

Zak couldn't help himself. `What were they doing?' he asked.

Ragboy glanced around furtively, now acting as if they were genuine spies. `Well, I spent the morning following crush can.' `I think you say it as croosh coff,' said Zak. `Whatever his name is. He likes staying on the upper floor, he seemed to be struggling with something on the lower floor.' `That's the gravity. He must have spent a long time on Mars,' said Zak. `Anyway, he's got a whole bunch of secret friends. I counted nine in all. He walked round the ship, and spoke to each of them in different places. They aren't ordinary friends because he wasn't saying hello or anything like that. He would go up to them and just say a few seconds worth, like he was giving them a message, or a command. I tell ya, they're definitely planning something.' `Well there's no point in warning Herbet. He assured me there was going to be no hijacking on this ship,' said Zak. `Yeah,' said Ragboy, `he's not going to trust a couple of troublemakers like us anyway.'

Nice, thought Zak. He was officially one of Ragboy's troublemaking gang. But he couldn't escape Ragboy's logic Security weren't going to do anything. He had to uncover the gang's plot. And it was comforting to him that here was someone else who believed him wholeheartedly, and was encouraging him to get involved. `I suppose we'd better do something,' conceded Zak. `Like try and work out what they're up to.' `Well let's find another careless login, and do some detectivising,' said Ragboy.

`We need to find a way of tapping in on a regular basis, without any danger of getting found out. It won't help if we get caught in the maintenance zone again,' said Zak. `If we can get into an engineer's account, we might be able to set up access for ourselves. But our best hope of that is to search the maintenance zone,' said Ragboy.

Zak realised that he had been drawn in again by Ragboy, despite his unease. He was wary of the consequences of teaming up with him, but the kid was just too useful.

They made their way back to the "Staff Only" entrance in the Entertainment Lounge. Zak tried the door. `Locked,' he said. `There's a few entrances along the ship,' said Ragboy. `Let's go try 'em.'

Ragboy led them to those he knew about, but they too were locked. They wandered, and tried every door they found, but it became clear the staff areas were completely sealed off. They loitered to observe one door. Sure enough, entry was only granted after confirmation of identity through an eye scanner. `They've tightened security,' said Zak. `That's not a bad thing, but we need to find another way in.' `How about that?' said Ragboy. He was pointing to a cleaning robot headed towards the cabin area.

They followed it from a safe distance. The robot did not actually enter the rooms and clean them, it was simply an assistant to the cleaners. It moved along by itself, but performed just two functions handing equipment to the human cleaner, then taking the dirty laundry and dropping it into its two large bins. `If we hide in there,' said Ragboy, `we'll soon get in behind enemy lines.' `Let's go then,' said Zak.

They held back until the human cleaner went into a room. Then they ran over to the robot, climbed up, and crawled into each of the bins. `Aw man, bad choice,' moaned Ragboy. `What's up?'

`Wet towels.'

Shortly afterwards, the cleaner came out and handed more dirty laundry to the robot. Its arms lifted the items over the bins, and dropped them in. `Aw man,' said Ragboy again. `Hmm,' said Zak. `It's dry in here, but smelly.'

After a few more rooms, with the bins almost full, the robot spun around and scooted off. Zak climbed to the top of the slightly unpleasant pile. For a few seconds he heard a lot of talking in the distance. He realised they must have crossed the walkway over the reception hall. Eventually, the robot stopped. There was a beep, and then it moved forward again. `Let's get out before we end up on ninety degrees,' said Ragboy.

The two boys jumped out of the bins and off the moving robot.

They found themselves in a laundry, with no other humans around.

The robot continued on to a large square machine with two holes at the front. It tipped the bins over the holes, letting the contents slide in, then made its way back and out the door. `Very clever Ragboy,' said Zak, sniffing his clothes. `We could have just waited by this door.' `Yeah,' said Ragboy. `We'll do that next time.' `Next time!' said Zak. `Anyway,' said Ragboy, `first thing is to find a login.' `I can't see anything in here,' said Zak. `All these staff areas are interconnected,' said Ragboy. `It's only the outer doors that have security on them. So if we keep going, we should find something.'

There was only one internal door within the laundry. Ragboy approached the door, and touched the switch to open it.

It led to a staff-only corridor that was deserted. `I recognise this,' said Ragboy quietly. `Follow me.'

They crept along the corridor. Zak felt fairly safe due to the absence of staff. They quickly arrived at a door marked "Maintenance Zone".

Before Ragboy opened the door, there was a shout from within another room further down the corridor.

`Intruders! I've got them on CCTV.' `Oops,' said Ragboy.

The door to the other room opened and an angry engineer stepped out.

Ragboy opened the door in front of him, and the two boys darted inside. It was a room with a hatch. Ragboy touched the switch to lock the door behind him. They clambered up the ladder onto the roof. `They'll be following us on the CCTV,' said Zak. `Let's go up to the core,' suggested Ragboy. `They might not have cameras up there.'

A flash of blue appeared in the corner of Zak's eye. An engineer had climbed onto the roof several slices away. `Hey. You there!' he shouted.

They quickly ran to the ladder and started climbing up towards the core. Zak had managed to muscle his way onto the ladder first. As he ascended, more spots of blue appeared from every direction. A commotion was underway.

Zak found that he hardly needed to pull himself up at all. After the first step, he seemed to glide up and into the hole. He had become weightless. Being so close to the centre, he was now being spun around relatively slowly.

The core appeared to be a solid metal pole about a metre thick, stretching the whole length of the living area. The circular shaft that encased this core was another metre wider in radius. There was plenty of room to climb through, but thick beams connected the core to the surrounding shell at each quadrant. `Which way shall we go?' asked Zak. `Head towards the front of the ship,' said Ragboy, `there might be an exit.'

Zak grabbed the sides and pulled hard. This set him floating along. He repeated this until he had picked up speed and was flying in exactly the right direction to avoid colliding with the beams. Ragboy had moved round the core to another quadrant and was trying to overtake him.

Zak looked back and saw a couple of engineers pulling themselves up into the shaft. He turned to face forwards again and noticed a hole up ahead. He glided right over it, and just caught a glimpse of the maintenance zone below.

Soon, he closed in on the wall that marked the front of the ship.

There was another hole just before the wall, and he realised he needed to stop himself to exit that way. He spread his arms and legs out, and dragged them along the sides of the shaft. Having slowed down, he then reached out to grab the hole.

He caught hold of the edge, and dived through. But as he dropped down, he realised that gravity would take hold. He tried to grab the ladder, but missed. Fortunately he had enough momentum to take him past the drop so that he landed on a roof. It had been a gentle bump and he wasn't hurt. He didn't see how Ragboy had managed it, but he was casually descending the ladder feet first.

In the distance further along the ship, Zak could see more engineers running along the rooftops. But he could see no hatches to get out of the maintenance zone. `Where now?' said Zak. `We're cornered, if that makes any sense.' `We can still go down can't we,' said Ragboy. `Oh yeah,' said Zak, remembering that the ladder led all the way to the bottom.

Zak boldly jumped off the roof straight to the floor, a three metre drop made safe by the low gravity on the upper floor.

They quickly descended the ladder to the lower maintenance zone, and this time knew they were in luck. `There we go,' said Ragboy, pointing to a nearby hatch. `Weird.

There's a doorway leading from that room to the front of the ship.'

They climbed down the hatch, and found themselves in a smartly decorated room. Barriers marked out a path, as if for a queue. The path ended at a double door.

Ragboy rushed over and opened the door. It appeared to be an empty cupboard. `Let's hide in here,' he said.

They stepped in and closed the door.

There was a whirring noise, and Zak felt a sensation of movement that left his head spinning. He found that once again he was weightless as he and Ragboy floated away from the floor.

The door opened automatically, but it led to a different room.

They had to pull themselves through the door to get into it. Behind them, the door closed and the whirring noise repeated. `I know what's happened,' said Zak. `Yeah. We're in the front of the ship,' said Ragboy. `And that cupboard brought us here,' said Zak. `I bet those guys have recalled it and are coming after us.

They glanced around. The room was pyramid shaped, with four sides. There were three other doors, marked "Space View", "Bridge", and "External". `External?' suggested Ragboy.

Zak didn't answer, but being the closest, stretched out and opened the door to "External". Then he grabbed Ragboy's arm and pulled them both inside. As the door closed he could see a light appear from behind the door they had come in, the door marked "Barrel of Ship".

Inside the room were two spacesuits, and an enclosed area with a sign saying "Airlock". It had a glass door at the front and a hatch at the far end. `Let's go,' said Ragboy. `Before they realise we're in here.'

Zak was amazed at Ragboy's boldness. They both climbed into the spacesuits. Zak was surprised at how thin they were and how easily he slipped into his one. He put the helmet on, and the suit seemed to shrink until it clung to him. Then a green light appeared. `Ready,' said a soft female voice. `Advance to airlock.' `I take it that's the computer,' said Ragboy.

Zak heard him quite clearly. There was a communication link between them.

They opened the airlock door, and glided in. It closed behind them. An orange light flashed on the inside. `What does that mean,' said Zak.

The light stopped flashing, and turned green. `Maybe we can go,' said Ragboy.

Ragboy turned a lever on the hatch and pushed it open. Outside, it looked like night. He pulled himself up through the hatch and scrambled out.

Zak noticed the door to the "External" room open, and two of the men who had been following them look on in horror. Zak waved to them, then followed Ragboy out of the hatch.

The first thing he noticed as he eased through the hatch was that the outside of the ship was covered in semi-circular handholds.

Ragboy was lying against the surface, grasping the handholds next to him, and hooking his feet into some others. Zak followed suit, knowing that this was necessary to stop himself drifting away.

Zak absorbed the sight around him. It was surreal, and unlike any sight he'd ever seen, even in some of the stranger games he had played. They were resting on the surface of the ship, surrounded by a wall of stars. Zak was aware that they had emerged from the front section of the ship onto the nose cone he had seen from the pod. It clearly did not rotate like the barrel. They were facing the end of the rounded nose, and he couldn't see the barrel of the ship at all.

The Sun was to the right and behind them. They had come out on the right hand side of the nose, which Zak realised was fortunate, as they were bathed in light. The surface curved away further to the right around the cone, as if over the edge of a cliff. It also curved away to the left, but that side faced away from the Sun, and was in total darkness, apart from the light catching a row of handholds.

From their limited perspective, the horizon was just a few meters away in every direction. Zak looked at the open hatch. It was as if that was a portal to this tiny little world. He had to remind himself of the shape of the cone, and picture where he was perched upon it.

He twisted his head to look at the Sun. His visor darkened immediately, smothering the glare, to leave a perfect white disc. He quickly turned back, fearing the effects of staring at it. There was a split-second of worry as he was blinded, but then the visor started to clear.

To get a good look at the stars, Zak manoeuvred himself to sit in a cross-legged position. The visor cleared more fully, and the stars brightened. He had never seen them so clearly before. The sheer volume of stars astounded him.

The Milky Way stretched out in a ghostly arch around the sky.

The ship was not headed through the centre of the arch, but towards its left hand side. He could see countless individual stars, but most of the stars in the galaxy simply merged together. They were just too distant or their light too scattered by gas and dust to be seen clearly.

Away from the Milky Way, the star cover was less dense, but he could also see the odd smudge of a nearby galaxy.

Also ahead, but slightly to the right of the nose, was Mars. He imagined that the ship was heading straight for where Mars would be in less than a week's time. Barely more than a red dot, Mars was not quite round, but appeared flatter on its left side. He realised this was for the same reason as the phasing of the Moon - the left side was in darkness.

The scene was totally static. There was nothing to indicate that they were travelling at 800,000 kilometres an hour. Zak realised that because they were travelling through empty space, despite the speed of the ship, there was nothing to buffet them, such as air. So you weren't going to get blown away as you would if you climbed out of an aeroplane. The reason they needed to grip the handholds was in case by moving around they accidentally pushed themselves off the ship. If that happened, they would simply drift away.

Zak suspected that Ragboy didn't quite understand the physics of it, as he was clearly gripping on for dear life. Zak decided to put it to the test. He kept his body absolutely still and slowly opened his hands from their grip on the handholds. He remained in position.

A ping in his ear made him almost leap up in fright. He quickly gripped the handholds again. `Reminder,' said a female voice. `Your Space View slot commences in five minutes.'

Zak's heartbeat was drumming. He waited a few seconds for it to ease off, and allowed himself a relieved smile. `Hey Ragboy,' he said, `Don't let go!'

Zak managed a small chuckle to himself at Ragboy's expense.

He realised that if Mars was in front of the ship, then Earth must be behind it. He turned right around to make his way up to the rim of the cone. He clambered along using the handholds, shifting past a still petrified Ragboy clinging on.

He reached the rim, and the barrel of the ship came into view, its long thin body stretching into the distance. It was rotating clockwise, and joined the rim almost perfectly, such that Zak could reach out and let it brush his hand as it swept past. There was not a sound. Zak's mind saw a mass of moving machinery, so the lack of noise made him feel as if he had gone deaf.

In the distance, just to the right of the line of the ship, he could see a small blue crescent, Earth, and alongside it a tiny white crescent, the Moon. From this angle, the Sun was to the left. Because it was much further away than Earth, it only lit up the leftmost arc of the planet.

He watched for a few seconds and then started to feel dizzy, due to a combination of weightlessness and the steady rotation in front of him. He made to turn around but the dizziness overwhelmed him and he became completely disorientated. He swiped at another handhold, but missed it, causing him to go head over heels. He was still gripping a handhold with one hand, and as he tumbled, his arm jolted and went taut. This time he had to use his strength to hold on, and a wave of horror pulsed through him. But quickly, his body came to rest. He heard a terrified whimper, but it had come from the communication link. He looked around, and found himself upside down, watching Ragboy clambering back into the hatch.

It was a strange sensation. There was no up or down due to the absence of gravity, but his eyes told him he was hanging from a ceiling. His moment of panic subsided and he pulled himself back towards the ship, grabbing on with the other hand.

Zak found that despite that scary moment, he was enjoying this immensely, and didn't want to go back down. But he had to keep in mind that he was only one slip away from certain death.

He scrambled down towards the nose, and came to a black panel that wasn't lit up at all by the light of the Sun. He moved over it to get a closer look, and the blackness became light. It was a window. The room behind it was obviously the Bridge, as a man in uniform and peaked cap who appeared to be the Captain hovered in the room. He was glaring back at Zak and furiously pointing in the direction of the hatch.

Zak decided he had better return inside.

*

Zak ended up in the same Security office as before. But this time, he did not have to wait so long to be dealt with. Herbet marched in with Mum trailing behind him, this time looking a lot more angry.

Zak was somewhat glad that Geremi didn't turn up, as he would be more ashamed to face him. `I'm afraid it's a very serious breach of security this time Mrs. Carter,' said Herbet, breathlessly. `We don't have 100% security. We can't be in all places at all times, and if people insist on trying to sneak in everywhere, we can't stop them. This time, Zak put himself in the gravest danger. If he had lost hold of the ship, he would be gone.'

He stooped and stared intently at Zak. `You would have died a cold and lonely death.' `I can't apologise enough,' said Mum, desperately. `We'll lock him in his room if that's what it takes.' `We can call this a final warning,' said Herbet. `Could you both come with me.'

Herbet marched out as quickly as he had come in. Zak and Mum hurried after him. Just a few doors down they came to a room that was labelled simply by its location rather than its function, 18-I-R. Herbet unlocked the door and ushered them inside. `A jail!' said Mum.

The room was split in half by a set of bars, dividing up the quadrant. A single sliding door provided access to the cell. Behind the bars were a set of soft benches and one toilet shielded by a decently sized screen.

Zak forced himself to show no reaction. He thought it seemed reasonably comfortable, but had no desire to be locked in it. `We've never had to use it. I'm not sure why it needs to be so big,' said Herbet. `The very last thing I want to do is lock up a child, but that is what I will do Zak, if you put another foot out of place.' `It's that kid,' said Zak. `He persuaded me. I know I shouldn't have.' `Darren said that he tried to stop you but you insisted on going outside the ship. He's very badly shaken by the whole incident,' said Herbet. `No way. It was his fault, he's the one…' `I don't want to hear any more,' barked Herbet. When Zak had tailed off, he continued. `Now, we have our security systems, but it was still fortunate that someone spotted you on the CCTV. So I'm not prepared to take any more chances. Given the magnitude of the security breach this time, I have the authority to invoke emergency powers. I will be collecting the Personal Signal Information from everyone on the ship. Should anyone so much as lean into a restricted area, the ship's security system will sound the alarm.' `Collect our PSIs?' said Zak with surprise. `Why didn't you do that anyway when everyone came on board?' `Because we're not allowed to,' said Herbet, grumpily. `If I had my way we would. It would certainly make my job a lot easier, and prevent the kind of disruption you've caused. Instead, we have to suffer a crisis before we can resort to them. Which is nonsense to me, because by then it might be too late.' `Why are you not allowed?' said Zak. `There are people who talk about liberties, and they apply pressure to the company. It's all completely unreasonable,' said Herbet, indulging himself in a rant. `I agree with you,' said Zak, thinking of his own concerns about security.

`Thanks. I'll start with you,' said Herbet.

He pulled out a small device from his pocket and pointed it towards Zak. He made a circling movement with his hand and the device produced a series of rapid beeps, followed by a single long beep.

The PSI was an implant which had become so widespread that almost every human in existence now had one. It acted primarily as a unique identifier for each human being, and as a result had replaced the passport in the role of proof of identity for travel. The implant continuously broadcasted a signal, which meant that each human could be located precisely via a tracking device. Earth was covered by a complete tracking system, and everyone's position was permanently monitored.

To ensure reliability and security, each implant was accompanied by thirty-two nanomachines that circulated the bloodstream. The nanomachines communicated with the implant, and the implant communicated with the tracker. If any of these links were to break, an alarm would alert the tracking system to the welfare of the host.

For security bosses like Herbet, the whole system had one primary use - tracking people's movements. But if the ship's computer system did not have the PSI identifiers, they had to be collected.

The long beep indicated that Zak's PSI was now in the system.

Herbet repeated the procedure on Mum. `Thank you for your time,' said Herbet cheerfully. `I'm now confident that it will not be necessary for us to meet again on this trip, especially not in this room.'

He stared at them expectantly. `Let's go Zak,' said Mum. `Check the CCTV of us,' said Zak to Herbet. `You'll see that Darren went first.' `Get out!' said Herbet, finally letting rip his frustration. `Or I'll tell everyone on the ship that you're responsible for this.'

Mum grabbed Zak's arm and dragged him out of the room.

Chapter 8: Personal video record

Later that afternoon, the rest of the passengers were made well aware that there had been a security breach. Calls came over the loudspeakers for everyone to attend the reception desk. After that, names were called out of those yet to be registered. On his way to dinner, Zak passed a few irate passengers in their pyjamas trudging towards reception.

He didn't regret the disruption. In fact he'd done Herbet a favour!

Had he known such a security scare was necessary in order to acquire the PSIs, he could have secretly arranged it with him. Perhaps in return for a token reward, such as a meal at the Valles Marineris Restaurant.

Zak went to bed that night with many mixed feelings. He dwelled on his excursion outside of the ship, and decided it was almost worth getting locked up for that experience. He suspected that whatever plans Krushkov had made would be disrupted by the increased security. But he still had no evidence they were planning anything. He thought about his supposed friendship with Ragboy. Given his betrayal, that was over. But he was less sure how he stood with Caviana, or even Geremi.

Mercifully, at dinner, Mum and Dad had been so angry and upset that they could barely speak. They would surely challenge him next time, but what would he say? With so many questions still running through his mind, it took him hours to drift off.

*

10am SST Sunday 13 January 2085 Zak awoke and opened his eyes. The video sheet on the opposite wall was lit up with a message in huge letters "Tell that idiot not to call at 6am!"

Zak checked. Tom had sent him several notification alarms over the morning. But the volume had been set to zero.

He linked the video communication to the wall and sent an alarm back. While waiting for a response he checked the current time delay. `Three minutes thirty!' he exclaimed. `Okay Tom, it's a seven minute round trip back here. So in that case, I may as well just tell you some stuff now.'

Zak took a deep breath, and reeled off the story since they last spoke. He told him about his trouble with Ragboy, the piecing together of Krushkov's gang, his run-ins with Herbet, and finally, the lure of Caviana. He whizzed through it, to fit all he could remember in one message.

It would be seven minutes before he'd receive a reply from Tom based on what he'd just told him. Instead, Tom's opening message would be in response to their previous chat. It made his brain hurt. `Zak! What's happened? It's over a day since I heard from you.

Have you told anyone yet. You've just gotta tell 'em. I know you might get in big trouble, but what can they do to you on a ship? It's not like they can throw you in jail.'

Zak smiled he had mentioned that. `I took a close look at the guys in the lifeboat room,' continued Tom. `I was hoping to come up with something. I zoomed in and got a good pic of one of them. I sent a search query over to the Mars net, and got back a basic identity page. He's a resident called Fang. Just seems a regular guy. But that's what they'll be you see. They aren't going to be holding up their MMM membership cards.'

Zooming. Pictures. Searching. Zak realised he should kick himself. `Tom, I'm signing off. Sorry but I need to check something.'

Zak had decided to review his first encounter with Krushkov. He replaced the video of Tom with the interface to his personal video record.

He was presented with a calendar, which he enlarged to fill the wall. He picked out the date - 11 th January, the day after arrival on the ship. The entry for that day expanded to replace the calendar, laying out an array of 48 images, one for each half-hour. He had no idea of the time of the incident, so instead he scanned the images, which gave him an overview of the day. One image contained Caviana laughing.

He selected it, which brought up a new set of 30 images, representing a minute by minute sample of video frames. Even though the incident had burned into his memory, it was apparent he had only been in the area for a very short time. He selected the frame that clearly preceded the encounter, the one showing the triangular archway.

This brought up yet another set of frames, each one similar to the next, like the successive frames of a movie.

Zak found it easier to use voice control to manipulate the video record. `Play,' he instructed.

The first frame grew to fill the wall, and the video started.

He became an observer through his own eyes, able only to see now what he had seen then. The advantage with a video replay was the ability to examine detail.

He watched the entire incident. There was nothing he hadn't remembered and nothing obviously incriminating. He returned to the frame selection page and worked his way through to the moment at which the door opened. `Repeat five seconds,' he said.

He saw the door open, and the reaction from the group of men inside. After five seconds, the scene repeated. Zak analysed the response of each man in turn, the strangest of which was a tall fairhaired man who hesitated then put his hand up to cover his face.

After a few more repeats, he had identified a few things to examine. `Pause,' he said, stopping the video just as the door swung open. `Zoom to waist of man second from left.'

As the view zoomed in, the man's waist grew in size on the wall.

`Stop zoom,' called out Zak, as the man's belt stretched from one end of the wall to the other. The image was almost crystal clear, but the limits of the video resolution were now evident he couldn't read the engraving on the belt buckle. `Play.'

The scene repeated again, as Zak studied what was being hidden by the jacket. The man had turned to face Zak, and this movement helped to resolve what was on the belt. It was a small holster, containing what looked like a gun.

Zak gasped in disbelief. How could they possibly have smuggled guns on board? He and his belongings had been subject to a thorough search in Florida.

Zak had minimal knowledge of real guns, since most of the guns he used were fictional, even in True-To-Life Arctic War 3. But based on the thick, almost spherical barrel, he presumed it was a blaster. He had heard that blasters could be easily assembled from a few small parts, such that the individual parts could be disguised as useful objects. These men had booked in separately. They could each have brought a small innocent device with them.

Zak quickly checked the other man who had closed his jacket, and drew the same conclusion.

He turned his attention to the small screen that had been turned away from him. `Zoom to screen on table.'

On the screen was clearly a blueprint of the ship. There was text, but the view was side on, making it difficult to read. `Rotate ninety degrees clockwise.'

The video image rotated so that he could read the text. It said "Elimination of security guards".

Zak gasped again. It was a hijack! Now he had evidence of their plan.

Another question popped into his mind. He zoomed back out and advanced the video to the frame in which the door closed. `Repeat ten seconds,' he instructed.

At the time, he was leaning forward and listening to the door. He could hear the murmurings.

`Amplify.'

The sound of the murmurings increased, but they were still somewhat muffled. `Remove noise and clarify signal.'

Suddenly, a voice came through loud and clear. It was shouting. `Who didn't lock the door? For God's sake, we have to hang around for another four days before we can trigger the takeover. We can't afford slip-ups.' `Gotcha!' exclaimed Zak. So much for the charming smile. He recognised the voice as the one who had spoken to him, Krushkov. `And Brigard you idiot,' screamed Krushkov, `why did you put your hand over your face? You may as well hang a sign round your neck saying "suspicious".'

Zak knew he had all the evidence he required. All he needed to do was make Herbet watch his personal video record of the last two minutes.

He sat back with a small sense of satisfaction, but he was annoyed with himself for not checking his video record earlier. The consequence of his findings meant that everyone was in grave danger from these men, but there was still time to stop them.

Zak left his cabin to go straight to Herbet's office. Armed with evidence, he was now emboldened to argue the case more forcefully.

He arrived at the reception hall through the yellow arched doorway, and turned to walk along the balcony. But to his surprise, Ragboy was there, leaning on the railing and staring down.

Zak decided to ignore him and take a different route. He quietly turned to take the long way round. `Hey Zaklo!' said Ragboy.

Zak sighed, and turned back to face him. `What!' he said. `That was an ace adventure we had yesterday. Ready for some more?' said Ragboy enthusiastically. `No way,' said Zak firmly. `You got me into big trouble, lying to Herbet that I led you outside.' `Well I've got to look after myself haven't I,' said Ragboy. `For all I knew, you were putting the blame on me.'

`Well I'm not a troublemaker. So I've had it with you,' said Zak. `Aw, don't be like that. We had fun.'

Zak knew that he did have a lot of fun. But he now felt that Ragboy was proving too much of a hindrance. `Last time out we didn't discover anything about those guys, and it wasted a lot of my time. I'm better off doing this myself. I don't need your help.' `Aw. Come on,' said Ragboy, as if Zak was being unreasonable. `You've needed it up till now. We're mates.' `I'm not your mate,' said Zak. `You can get lost.'

Ragboy frowned and lowered his head. He looked crestfallen. `Have it your way,' he said. `I don't need you either.'

Ragboy slumped back onto the balcony railing in an apparent sulk.

Zak took the long way round.

After arrival outside Herbet's office, his determination gave way to frustration, as he was made to wait for over an hour.

Finally, Herbet called him in. `What do you want?' said Herbet, impatiently. `I've got proof that these guys are up to something,' said Zak.

Herbet sighed with irritation and pushed back in his chair. `What kind of proof?' he asked. `My personal video record. I've got footage which shows them armed and planning to kill you.' `Zak, I am not allowed to look at your personal video record. I cannot use it as evidence. For all I know, you've probably doctored the video to fabricate this proof. I wouldn't put it past you.'

Zak couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wondered if Herbet wanted to be killed. `I haven't done anything to the video. Why can't you look at it? I thought you had emergency powers.' `Yes, but that's still out of the question.' `But, these guys are planning to hijack the ship. You've got to arrest them!' pleaded Zak. `I will do no such thing,' shouted Herbet. `Now stop wasting my time, and leave me to do my job.'

`You're mad. You're just going to let it happen.' `Nothing will happen,' insisted Herbet.

Zak could sense himself about to lose his temper. Instead of doing something that would land him in jail, he turned and stormed out.

Now that he was convinced about the danger, he was not going to let this go. His last chance lay with Geremi.

He made his way to the Tech Room, and spied through the window. Geremi stood by his desk, apparently in heated discussion with a colleague who pointed at technical readings on the wall. Zak hadn't spoken to him since his second escapade with Ragboy, and feared that he might be angry with him and not take kindly to being interrupted at work.

He was weighing up whether to call him, when he received a call himself. It was a pleasant surprise his parents, inviting him for lunch in the Valles Marineris Restaurant.

Fighting hijackers would have to wait. Unfortunately, he still hadn't prepared for the interrogation.

This time, Dad made his bid before the hors d'oeuvres arrived. `Zak,' he said expectantly, `I take it you aren't going to run off this time.' `No,' conceded Zak. `Good. We always thought you were the model teenager. But in these last few months you have been an escalating problem. First, your school performance and lies about it, then your attempt to give us the slip, and now this rampant misbehaviour on board. I know the cause of all this it's your obsession with that violent game.' `That's not really fair,' protested Zak. It certainly didn't seem so negative from his perspective. `Now we had been inclined to let you continue playing it once we arrived on Mars, especially until we had settled in. But I think it's better that we ban you from playing altogether.'

Dad took a deep breath. He clearly expected Zak to respond angrily. But Zak was unmoved, and just nodded in acknowledgement.

V-Commando was way down his list of concerns at the moment. And the idea that Dad could stop him playing was ridiculous. He would easily find a way round any ban. `Okay,' he said.

Dad stared at him, perplexed. `I want to discuss your future,' he continued uncertainly. `We need to explore alternative careers that will inspire you.' `Sure,' said Zak, casually. `Sounds like a great idea.'

Dad pulled a confused face. `Right, um, I hadn't expected to get to that bit so quickly. Let's do that another time.'

The hors d'oeuvres arrived, and Zak secretly cheered at having totally neutralised his parents' attack. He could now relax and enjoy the expensive meal.

He sat quietly and surveyed the unique setting. The food put the competent Red Planet Bar to shame, leaving him with the genuine desire to come again. But from the expression on Dad's face when receiving the bill, he suspected this might be their sole visit.

Concerned that he might be asked to chip in, Zak offered Dad a genuine thank you, and scarpered.

He decided it would be better to meet Geremi in a quieter environment. He would hang around in the kennels and gauge Geremi's reaction when he turned up.

As he headed back along the blue corridor from the Restaurant, he caught sight of Caviana in the distance on her own. He wasn't in the mood to talk to her now, so pretending not to notice her, he popped into the general store at 13-O-B.

He rushed over to the far corner to browse for five minutes. He had no doubt that through Skye, Caviana would know he was responsible for the collection of PSIs. He imagined what he would say to her the next time they spoke.

As he rehearsed the conversation, he noticed a shop assistant staring at him quizzically. He had been standing in one spot staring at a single shelf. He picked up a couple of bags of crisps and turned around. `Hello Zak.'

He nearly fell backwards onto the shelves. It was Caviana. `Hi,' said Zak, gathering himself. `You gave me a shock.' `What are you doing?' she asked. `Oh. Just daydreaming.' `I would like to apologise to you,' she said. `What for?' asked Zak uncertainly. `For criticising your ambition,' she said. `I only wanted to express my opinion, but I could see that you were hurt by my comments.' `Er,..that's okay. Everyone's got the right to an opinion,' he said. `I heard that you got into more trouble yesterday,' she said. `I hope it was not because you were upset.' `No,' Zak reassured her. `Me and this kid went exploring again, and got into the front of the ship. He's a liar, so I'm going to steer clear of him from now on.' `Good,' said Caviana. `I think you are a nice person. I can hardly believe what I am hearing about you.' `Well you hardly know me,' said Zak, shrugging his shoulders. `And you hardly know me,' she replied, smiling. `Shall we have coffee together, and talk.'

Zak was not used to this kind of approach. He mumbled a `yes', put back the bags, and followed her. They went to the Red Planet Bar. `Why aren't you with Skye?' he asked, as they made their way over to the coffee dispenser. `Skye is my friend,' said Caviana. `But she is so cynical that I need to spend time away from her, so that she does not infect me with her attitude.' `I know what you mean,' said Zak. `She told me that she did not want to be infected with my attitude either.' `You told her!'

`I like to be straight with people.'

Zak smiled in amazement.

They made their selection, and the coffee dispenser displayed "30 Solars".

Caviana looked at Zak. `Are you buying?' she asked expectantly. `Oh, er.., I haven't got my card. Sorry,' he said. `You are not a very good date are you,' she said, paying for the drinks herself. `I hope you were not planning to steal those crisps.'

Zak could feel himself sweating with embarrassment. They sat down at a table, facing each other. He was incredibly nervous. He could hardly believe after all he'd been through that he could be so nervous. But here he was, sitting with Caviana, and she was gazing at him. His composure was hanging by a thread. He tried to think of something sensible to say. `Where are you from?' he asked. `I am from America. The state of Texas,' she said. `You don't sound Texan.' `No. I did not mix with your average Texan.'

Zak hoped the next question would not sound rude. `You're different. Why's that?' he asked.

Caviana smiled reassuringly. `I was brought up in an experimental programme, called "The Noble Child". Have you heard of it?' `Never,' said Zak. `The programme was created in the 2060's, in response to the behavioural problems of children suffered by societies throughout the

st century. Not that I encountered these, but I have seen the evidence in my social history classes. I believe that your country too has experienced these problems.' `Yeah. You could point your finger at me,' said Zak.

`Well, a group of academics backed by wealthy families developed this programme. The basic premise is to place children in a controlled environment, from early years until age sixteen. Access to information and entertainment is managed, to ensure that children do not receive bad influences. Interaction with other children is carefully monitored, and every other aspect of life is dealt with. The child should grow up well behaved, and by the time they finish the programme, they will have the moral strength to cope with the world and live a virtuous life.' `Wow!' said Zak. `It sounds like a nightmare. How did you end up in it?' `My mother was killed when I was two years old. My father, a newly appointed Ambassador, had just started a commission abroad.

He volunteered me for the programme, and I remained a participant until completion, on my sixteenth birthday three months ago.'

Zak was astounded. `Are you angry with him?' `Not at all,' said Caviana. `I love and respect my father. He did what he believed was best. Our relationship is not as casual as yours. I would never speak to him the way Skye speaks to your father.' `But you must be glad to be free,' said Zak. `I am not so sure,' she said. `Most people I meet, in the real world, are like little children. Their lives are chaotic, they chase their desires, their opinions are based on prejudice rather than logical thought, and they have no real control over their lives. I find that I have pity on everyone.' `Do you include me in that?' `I do. I am sorry,' she smiled apologetically. `That's okay. You're totally right,' said Zak. `On the other hand, I feel like a freak. I see everyone else as abnormal, but it is I who am different. With my robotic speech, and my ridiculous wardrobe. I cannot help it, yet worse is that I cannot change, as I have been taught to resist influence from others.'

Zak looked at Caviana, and to his amazement saw her perfect face wrinkle with emotion.

`I am very grateful that you and your sister are so friendly to me.

I have found that many people your age simply poke fun at me.' `I never thought of making fun of you,' said Zak. `Thank you,' she said, `I can handle the abuse. We were trained through the use of simulations to handle interaction with others. That included dealing with hostile people. What is more difficult is the loneliness of being shunned. You are my first friends since leaving the programme.' `I've never played much of those social games,' said Zak. `Maybe I'm not very good at social situations.' `I know about your upbringing,' said Caviana, `as I have talked with Skye. But tell me more about your ambition. I did not fully appreciate your achievements.' `Well,' said Zak, `I've done well at Junior level. Now I've moved on to the True-To-Life version, and I'm making my way up those rankings. If I can get into the top five-hundred, then I should be able to earn enough from tournaments to turn professional.' `Much as I do not like the nature of this sport,' said Caviana, `your dedication is admirable. Most boys at your age have very little about them.' `Well once I turn professional, I'll be able to dedicate myself totally to the ultimate goal becoming World Champion.'

Caviana nodded slowly, as if unsure whether to take him seriously. `But first,' he continued, `I have to get back to Earth. I didn't want to come to Mars, and as soon as we get there, I'm getting on the first ship back.' `But what about your family?' she asked incredulously. `They don't care, so stuff 'em.' `You can't have that attitude,' she said sternly. `When I decided I was going to become world champion, I did some reading up on the net. One thing I found said that to achieve your dream, you've got to be totally dedicated your life must revolve around it, you've got to want it every minute of every hour, and let nothing stand in your way. My family have only ever discouraged me, so I'll be better off without them.'

Caviana took time to absorb that. But stared at Zak intently. `We had that as part of our programme once,' said Caviana. `Each child would be pushed to excel at one thing in particular, with the intent of making them the outstanding person in that field.' `Oh! Did it work?' `They abandoned that part of the programme before I started. Too many children suffered mental health problems.' `Oh,' said Zak. `Well, I only decided this a couple of months ago.

I should be alright at my age.' `It is not your age that is the issue. It is the danger of becoming unable to live alongside other people. Why should everyone revolve around you and your dream. If you were truly dedicated enough, and great enough, then you should achieve it anyway, and not blame others for just going about their own lives.'

Caviana took a deep breath.

Zak wouldn't normally put up with this kind of lecture. But Caviana was unlike anyone he'd ever met. He found her fascinating.

And she was pretty.

Before Zak could compose a retort, he spotted something that put him on edge. It was Ragboy, walking in the corridor outside, heading past the main entrance to the Bar. He was accompanied by his bruising brothers. Zak put his hand up to scratch his head and hide his face, in the hope they wouldn't see him. To Zak's relief, they didn't stop. `Yeah,' said Zak. He had forgotten what he was responding to.

He saw Caviana look over his shoulder and her face go glum. `Oh dear,' she whispered. `Here comes some troublemakers.'

Zak turned around, to see the Thorne brothers approaching the table. They had come in through the other entrance behind him. `Alright Wackman,' said Ragboy loudly.

Zak wondered for a moment what Ragboy meant, then realised he was twisting his name further. `Hi Ragboy,' said Zak, in a friendly tone, hoping to keep this a civilised encounter. `What's this?' said Ragboy. `It's Miss Prim and Proper,' he declared.

Dazzer and Gazzer laughed. Zak glanced back at Caviana to see her looking at Ragboy with disapproval. `Wackman's got a girlfriend,' said Ragboy. `It's Miss Prim!'

Ragboy thrust his chest out, stood upright on tiptoe, and marched around a table nodding his head. `How do you do. So nice to meet you. Glad to make your acquait..unce,' he chanted awkwardly. `Shut up Ragboy,' said Zak, standing up from the table so he could face him directly.

Dazzer and Gazzer turned to him menacingly. `Zak's got a girlfriend everybody,' shouted Ragboy to everyone in the bar. `His girlfriend is Miss Prim.' `She's not my girlfriend,' shouted Zak. `He denies it!' shouted Ragboy.

Zak glared at him. `Look, you've upset her now,' said Ragboy, pointing behind him.

Zak turned back to see Caviana disappear out of the main entrance. He could barely believe what was happening. He moved to confront Ragboy, but the twins immediately positioned themselves in front of him. `I'll get you for this Ragboy,' said Zak with menace. `You'd better watch your back.'

He turned and walked out. Ragboy and his brothers remained, doubling over in laughter.

Outside, to Zak's frustration, Caviana had already disappeared.

He hung his head. It had been going so well.

What was he to do now? He would have to continue with his original plan and wait for Geremi in the kennels.

The cargo hold was at the opposite end of the green corridor. He could just make out its door in the distance. With the jeers of the Ragboy clan ringing out behind him, it was a humiliating walk, but to his relief the boys didn't follow him.

As soon as he clanged open the door to the kennels, Rover went barmy. He barked rapidly at the top of his voice and jumped around within the cage clattering into the roof and sides. He made such a racket that Zak worried a crew member might tell him off. But it wasn't his fault if the rest of the family hadn't visited the dog all morning. `Calm down Rover,' said Zak. `I haven't brought any treats.'

Zak let Rover out, took him for the necessary walk, then sat down with him. He was content to remain there while he mulled over the latest disaster, and waited for Geremi to turn up.

He did not know what time Geremi would next visit the kennels.

If he had been recently, it might not be until the evening. He was too afraid to initiate contact with him. But he was certain that once here, Geremi would indulge him by watching a two minute video.

He had no idea why Caviana had stormed off by herself, as she had just assured him that she could cope with taunts. They hadn't yet exchanged contacts, and Skye was unlikely to help him find out why.

He decided that later, he would analyse his video record and see exactly what triggered her exit. He hoped the incident hadn't ruined his chances with her. Nonetheless, he was furious with Ragboy.

Time passed as he dwelled on his impromptu date with Caviana.

So it seemed like he had hardly waited at all when after an hour, the door to the kennels opened, and Geremi walked in. `Hello Zak,' he said, with a cautious smile. `Hi,' said Zak, keeping his head down, but trying to gauge Geremi's mood. `It's good to see you still think of Rover, despite all the exciting things to do,' said Geremi. `I'm here to get away from things. I'm a walking disaster,' said Zak. `I heard that you were caught entering the maintenance zone again, and almost got yourself killed outside the ship,' said Geremi. `Yeah. I won't be doing any more of that. My partner in crime is now my number one enemy,' said Zak. `Who's that, Darren Thorne?' asked Geremi. `Yeah. I call him Ragboy.'

Geremi let out a big laugh. He opened Rocky's cage and took him out, then sat down lifting the dog onto his lap. `You seem unhappy,' he said, as if he intended to cheer Zak up. `There's a few reasons for that,' said Zak. `There is some good news,' said Geremi. `Security has been improved.'

Zak managed to laugh. `Well you can thank me,' he said. `I said I would talk to you about the security situation,' said Geremi. `I share your concerns about that group of people, and at Herbet's indifference. I've observed their suspicious behaviour, but to be honest I've been so busy, I just haven't had time to scan the CCTV. It's not part of my job.'

Zak stood up, excited and relieved that Geremi believed him. `But I've got some evidence,' he said. `This morning, I realised that I had a video record of them, so I checked it. They talked of a takeover, in four days, well, two days now. But I've been to see Herbet with this, and he wouldn't even look at it.' `Why not?' asked Geremi. `He said he wasn't allowed to look at my personal video record,' said Zak. `That's rubbish. He's making excuses not to listen to you,' said Geremi.

He sighed. `There's something you should know about Herbet.

He planned to retire a year ago. But there was some dispute, and the company insisted he oversee the security on this new ship. It was a bad idea. He may have been good before, but he's lost interest now.

This is his last round trip.'

Zak nodded politely. Was this supposed to make him sympathetic? `He just wants to get off, and his sense of judgement already has,' continued Geremi. `Instead of following up every lead, he dismisses most of them out of hand. Can I see this footage of yours?' `Yeah,' said Zak. He accessed his own files via the Mind Patch.

The footage of his investigation appeared on the wall of the kennels. Geremi watched it. His jaw dropped at the sight of the guns.

`How did they get those on board?' said Geremi, mystified. `Blasters can be assembled from small parts,' said Zak. `The men booked in separately.' `This is very serious,' said Geremi gravely. `The reason I entered the maintenance zone was because I wanted to spy on them,' said Zak. `I wasn't intending to do anything other than that. But one thing led to another. That kid is an expert at getting into trouble.'

Geremi placed Rocky down and stood up. He paced around the room, apparently in deep thought. Zak waited to see what he was going to do. Eventually, he stopped. `I trust you Zak,' he said.

Zak was surprised by this comment. He wondered what he had done to deserve it. `Why?' `I have a feeling that you are a good person. I'm not sure why.

But I am generally a good judge of people.' `Thanks,' said Zak. `I'm going to give you a key. By that I mean a name and passcode for the ship's computer.'

Zak's eyes widened. `It will give you Observational Security Clearance. You will be able to observe other passengers, even in their cabins.'

Zak's eyes almost popped out of his head. `I want you to promise me that you will only use it to spy on this group of people, and not on any other passengers.' `I promise,' he replied, before he had even thought about it.

Geremi closed his eyes, presumably to obtain the key. `It's in your mail,' he said. `You only need to enter it once. After that, you will be automatically logged in with that clearance.' `Got it,' said Zak. `I haven't got time to investigate,' said Geremi. `but you are obviously desperate to uncover what these people are plotting. You can now spend your time doing so. And of course, not making any more dangerous forays into the maintenance zone.' `That's just what I wanted,' said Zak.

`In the meantime, I will approach Herbet and do my best to persuade him to take this matter seriously. Of course,' he said quietly, `I won't tell him that I've given you this key.' `What if I see something?' asked Zak. `If you see anything that would enable us to arrest them on the spot, let me know straight away.' `You bet!' said Zak. `I'll get on it.' `Good lad,' said Geremi. `I'd better get back to work.'

Geremi returned Rocky to his cage, and made to leave. `Best of luck Zak. We have to stop these people.'

Zak gave him an enthusiastic nod. His spirits were sky-high.

He needed somewhere he couldn't be disturbed. The kennels must have been the least visited place on the ship, so he decided to stay put. He would have time to turn the screen off if anyone did come in.

He was ready. Now, he would ensure that Krushkov and his gang were arrested before the day was out.

Chapter 9: A New Regime

2.30pm SST Sunday 13 January 2085

Zak logged in using the key.

He was already familiar with the crew interface from watching Ragboy's demonstration. He worked his way through the pages and found that he had full access for snooping on Krushkov's men. But he didn't want to let Geremi down, so resisted the temptation to watch anyone else.

He brought up the passenger roster, and found the cabin numbers for the men he and Ragboy had previously identified.

He cycled through CCTV footage of each cabin. The first two were empty, but the third contained a group of men, sitting around on the chairs and beds. Zak recognised most of them. `Krushkov, Fang, Ubogu, O'Neill, Khan,' said Zak quietly, checking each one's identity on the computer, and putting names to faces.

He listened to their chat. To his surprise it was trivial, and not at all suspicious. They were debating the merits of having a car within the confines of a small Martian city.

At first, Zak found it intriguing. But as the conversation dragged on, and the argument went round in circles, his attention wandered.

He realised he could be in for a long day. As time went on his eyelids started to droop. Then, in a split-second, he hit the jackpot.

O'Neill, a big American who had argued it was unnecessary to have a car, stood up and reached to his waist. He pulled out a blaster and waved it around. `Having one of these is more important than a car,' he declared.

They all laughed, except Krushkov. `Put it away O'Neill,' he said with irritation. `Now let's get back to our rethink, we haven't got forever.'

As O'Neill sat back down, Zak realised he must act immediately.

He called Geremi. `Yes Zak?' `I've found them already. They're sitting in a cabin, and they've got a gun.'

`That was quick. I've only just got back to my desk. Well there's no point in me doing anything. Call Herbet on the emergency line.' `Will he listen?' `He has to respond to an emergency call.'

Zak called Herbet as instructed, but made the connection audio only. The call went straight through to him. `Who's this?' snapped Herbet. `I'm in a meeting.' `It's Zak. I know you don't trust me, but believe me, this is important. I've just seen a couple of guys go into Cabin Y-13,' he said, twisting the truth slightly. `They've got a gun. They're the ones I've been following.' `Zak Carter,' said Herbet, `You just don't know when to give up, do you. Is this some kind of joke?' `No way. I'm absolutely serious. Send a guard down to check, but be careful, they're armed.' `Damn. It's the emergency line,' said Herbet. `Do you realise the trouble you'll be in if this is a false alarm Zak - I'll lock you up for the rest of the trip. So if this is a prank, you'd better call it off now.' `I swear on my life,' said Zak. `Okay,' said Herbet, sighing. `I'll send someone to investigate.'

Zak returned to the footage. To his alarm, the gun was nowhere to be seen, and the men were just sitting around talking again. He berated himself for not watching what O'Neill did with the gun. He feared that if the security officers did not search the cabin, he would soon be languishing in jail.

He waited for what seemed like an age, then a bell sounded in the cabin. The men suddenly stopped their conversation and froze. `Come on, look nervous,' said Zak. `Who is it?' shouted Krushkov. `Security,' came the voice. `We'd like a word.'

The door opened and the men within the room stood up. There were two security guards in the doorway. `Good afternoon,' said one of the guards. `We're sorry to disturb you, but we've been asked to check out this cabin. Do you mind?'

The gang looked alarmed and puzzled. `Er… no,' said Krushkov. `Go right ahead.'

The security guard entered the cabin nervously. He appeared unsure about what he was expected to find. First, he casually frisked the men. `What's this?' he asked O'Neill, pointing at something on his belt. `It's a holder,' said O'Neill. `What do you use it for?' asked the guard. `To hold things?' said O'Neill hopefully.

The guard eyed O'Neill with suspicion, but moved on. He ambled around the cabin, glancing at things, but not really searching.

A chest of three drawers caught his attention. He pulled open the top drawer, had a little rummage around and closed it. Then, he opened the middle one. It contained underwear, and the guard shut it after only a cursory look.

The men exchanged nervous glances. `Come on, try the other drawer!' said Zak.

The two guards looked at each other. The one at the door shrugged. It seemed as though they were about to leave, when the guard by the chest of drawers eyed O'Neill again, and appeared to decide on one further check. `Yes!' said Zak.

The men started to move shiftily around, as if bracing themselves for something. The guard grabbed hold of the third drawer handle, and pulled it. No sooner had the drawer opened than Krushkov leapt forward and punched him across the back of the head. The guard at the door reached for his own gun, but Fang grabbed him and yanked him into the room, right into the fist of Ubogu.

Krushkov took their gun out of the drawer, stepped back and fired a blast at the guard on the floor in front of him. A pulse of light exploded on the prone body, followed by a wisp of smoke. Krushkov then turned and repeated his actions on the guard by the doorway. `Oh my god!' said Zak.

Suddenly, all the lights dimmed, and an alarm sounded throughout the ship. `Damn!' shouted Krushkov.

Khan knelt down and confiscated the gun from the guard by the doorway. He then checked the other, but found he had been unarmed. `Just one ES gun,' said Khan.

Zak recognised the abbreviation. The guard had been equipped with an Electro Shock gun.

Krushkov handed the blaster back to O'Neill and put his hand to his ear. `Romero!' he shouted. `Get your blaster and head for the Security Office. It's kicked off!'

With the alarm still blaring, the men raced out of the cabin. Zak frantically followed them using the CCTV. He split the screen into two views, and searched for the rest of the gang at the same time. He found them all leaving another cabin, and recognised Romero as one of the men in the lifeboat room. All the men were heading out of the cabin area and towards the Security Office.

As Zak watched, he realised he had the best seat in the house. He set up a third view on the Security Office. There, Herbet opened a cabinet marked "Armoury". Inside were two guns attached to a panel, with a space for a third. He took both of them. Suddenly two men burst into the room. One was in full uniform, while the other wore just the blazer over his plain clothes. Zak realised that most of the remaining security guards would be off duty. `Here!' said Herbet, throwing them a gun each. `We're under attack by an armed gang. Try and hold them off. Shoot to kill.'

Zak watched the battle unfold as if it was a V-Commando match.

The gang had reached the Security Office, and were trying to force their way in. Zak realised that all they needed to do was eliminate the guards, and they would have control of the ship. A shootout had begun, and the two armed security guards were desperately trying to defend their position. It was a strange battle, as there were far fewer guns than participants. Only O'Neill with the blaster, and Khan with the ES gun were engaged in fighting the guards. The others stayed back. Almost immediately, one of the guards shot Khan in the chest, who collapsed with a bloodcurdling scream, and let the ES gun fall into the corridor.

Zak was gripped. The battle would hinge not on who had the most men, but on who had the most guns. The ES gun lay tantalisingly in the corridor. With O'Neill suppressed under fire from one guard, the other guard darted out to try and grab the dropped gun.

But at the moment his hand reached down, Romero arrived with his men. Their blaster was in the hands of a man Zak identified as Forster. The security guard was shot dead.

Under a hail of fire, the remaining guard retreated back into the room and shut the door. But Zak realised that they had allowed the balance to swing critically in favour of the gang, who now had four guns to their one.

Zak threw up his hands in frustration, wondering if the Security team had any more weapons. If only he could get hold of a gun, he was certain he could make a difference. `Herbet!' shouted Zak, making direct contact with him again. `For God's sake!' shouted back Herbet. `Have you got any more weapons on this ship?' `No. These are all we have,' replied Herbet.

Zak shook his head at how vulnerable they had left themselves.

The gang appeared to realise this as well. O'Neill and Forster charged forward and burst into the room, rapidly aiming and firing.

But Herbet and the security guard had shielded themselves well. The guard sprang up, taking the attackers by surprise and downing them both. `Nice work,' said Zak, punching the air. He then reminded himself that these were real people, actually dying.

Zak suddenly saw a glimmer of hope. The guard lurched forward and tried to grab the two guns from the prone attackers, but Romero burst through the door and took advantage, shooting the fumbling guard. With the last guard down, Herbet was on his own and unarmed. `I surrender!' he cried.

Romero marched over to where Herbet was hiding, gun raised.

Krushkov appeared in the doorway. `Stop!' he said. `We need some of them alive.'

Romero halted and lowered his gun.

The battle had ended. The rest of the gang arrived in the room, but it took the alarm to be turned off before the tension eased. Herbet rose hesitantly as Krushkov walked up to him. `I don't know why you put up a fight,' he said. `You should have just surrendered in the first place and saved your men.'

Herbet just looked at him in disbelief. `We need somewhere to put everyone,' said Krushkov, addressing his own men. `We'll use the VM for now.'

Zak presumed he meant the Valles Marineris Restaurant.

Ubogu motioned Herbet out of the room with his gun. `Three men down, I don't believe it,' shouted Krushkov, clearly furious. `And time. What are we?'

A few of them checked their watches. `Thirty six hours early,' said Romero.

Krushkov lifted his head and let out a big sigh. `Our plans are in tatters,' he said. `But I think our plans are still in order boss,' said Romero, with calm certainty. `Even if Herbet sent out an SOS, there's no way the military could reach us before Sato's rendezvous. We're approaching halfway to Mars.' `Yes,' said Krushkov, nodding in acknowledgement. `And now that the PSIs have been collected,' said Romero, `we'll be able to track everyone down. Our job has been made easier.'

Krushkov managed a smile, then slapped Romero on the shoulder. `Good man!' he said, heartily.

Zak swallowed hard, thinking of his role in all this. `Okay,' continued Krushkov. `Let's get everyone into that restaurant.'

*

Krushkov's voice boomed over the ship's loudspeaker system.

`Attention! Passengers and crew. Go to the Valles Marineris Restaurant immediately. Anyone not there within the next five minutes will be shot.'

After a pause, his voice took a gentler, but equally threatening tone. `Yes, the ship has been taken over. Now don't be foolish and hide. We have your PSIs, so we can track every one of you.'

Zak felt sick that the security measures would now be used by the hijackers to reinforce their control. He quickly searched the ship's computer and brought up the PSI signal map, a diagram of the entire ship with yellow dots indicating the location of each person. At first, the dots were spread all over the ship, but once Krushkov repeated his demand, the dots began to converge towards the restaurant at the front. His own dot became conspicuous as the one furthest away.

He realised there wasn't time to do anything other than comply.

He logged out of the computer, said goodbye to the dogs, and left the kennels. As he neared the restaurant, he caught up a growing trail of people. The mood grew more sombre by the second, as Krushkov continued to roar his instructions.

Within the restaurant, a huge number of people had gathered. Zak reckoned there must be hundreds. He hadn't seen so many people in one place since the Acceleration Room. But due the disorderly manner of arrival, this crowd seemed much larger, filling the restaurant.

To Zak's surprise, many were dressed in uniforms - stewards, chefs, waiters, cleaners, engineers. It seemed as though there were almost as many people employed on the ship as paying passengers.

The crowd appeared to swarm, with everyone winding their way around the tables trying to find those they knew. Zak hurriedly did the same. Some way off he saw Skye with Caviana, wandering and searching. He made his way towards them. As he neared, Caviana caught sight of her father. She spoke a few words to Skye, they gave a little wave to each other, and Caviana trotted off to meet him.

Zak ran through the crowd and called out to Skye. `Zak,' she replied with hands on hips, `I'm sure you've got something to do with this. But I can't imagine what.'

`You've no idea,' said Zak, sensing that Skye didn't appreciate the magnitude of the crisis. `No. But I do know that you've blown it with Caviana,' she said. `That is such a relief!'

Zak gulped. `What d'you mean? I didn't do anything.' `No, you didn't.'

The fallout from the Ragboy incident was worse than he feared.

They soon caught sight of Mum and Dad and ran to join them. As families and friends reunited, the crowd settled down. `Does anyone know what's going on?' asked Dad. `The ship's been hijacked, I saw it all take place,' said Zak. `I don't know what the hijackers are after, but we should keep our heads down - they've killed people.'

Soon after, the hubbub of the crowd was brought swiftly to a halt, as the squeaky blast of Krushkov's gun grabbed the attention.

Everyone turned to look at the hijackers who had formed a line in front of the main entrance. Krushkov stood ahead of them, arm raised, blaster pointing at the ceiling.

Out of the crowd stepped the ship's Captain. He marched up to Krushkov, and shook his finger at him. `This is an outrage!' he roared. `It's an act of piracy.'

Krushkov launched at the Captain, punching him with the butt of his gun. A cry of horror went up around the restaurant as the Captain crumpled to the floor. `Piracy eh?' sneered Krushkov. `Well you'd better shut up, or I'll make you walk the plank.'

A doctor cautiously crept forward to tend to the Captain. `Now. Let's get things clear,' said Krushkov, addressing everyone. His voice was directed through the loudspeaker, and it reached Zak almost unbearably loud. `Our purpose here is simple - robbery. There is a very valuable cargo on this ship, and we will be taking it. The rule of all robberies is that if the victims co-operate, they don't come to harm. So if you all behave, you will survive this incident in one piece. Your Captain has already generously volunteered for my demonstration of violence.'

Krushkov smiled and opened his hand towards the prone Captain. `Don't even consider trying to escape,' he continued. `I have given the order to my men to shoot on sight. And if you are bold enough to think you'll take that risk, remember that we have all your PSIs. We'll be watching, and we'll track you down.'

Everyone in the restaurant was transfixed on Krushkov. `Now, there are some key people whose services we require all senior, security, engineering and tech staff. Come to the front. We have the crew roster so we know your names. Don't make us read them out.'

Zak watched as the crew members made their way to the front.

The Captain struggled to his feet. Herbet trudged forward, head bowed. Geremi emerged, head held high, staring at Krushkov with contempt. All were ushered out of the restaurant by two of the hijackers at gunpoint. Zak realised that these staff were the ones who knew the ship and how it functioned.

When they were gone, Krushkov continued his speech. `Now, thanks to the efforts of your excellent Security team, we've had to conduct this operation a little earlier than planned, which means you're all going to have to spend the next few days in this restaurant.'

A few suppressed groans could be heard. `But there is some good news,' he said jovially. `You'll be eating here for free!'

Krushkov paused, as if expecting a grateful response. Instead, there was total silence.

Zak stared intensely at Krushkov, with growing anger about the whole situation. He was angry at the hijackers, and angry with Herbet who hadn't taken him seriously. Herbet had allowed a small problem to become a big one.

If it really was a robbery, then maybe the safest course of action would be to co-operate. But he was certain there was more to this than Krushkov admitted. Romero had said in the lifeboat room that they couldn't allow witnesses to escape. The MMM were blowing ships up to destroy evidence. Zak felt a responsibility, even a willingness, to act.

Maybe he could do something. He knew his way round the ship, better than the hijackers who had stayed within a limited area. He had to escape from the restaurant. It would be risky because he could be tracked via the PSIs. But he could lead the hijackers on a chase that would cause a major distraction.

He looked around the arc of the restaurant. The minor entrances were being sealed by Romero, who fiddled with the doors before dragging furniture in front of them. Ubogu had moved to stand in front of the passage to the kitchens. He scanned the ceiling but could see no opening. The toilets at the back of the restaurant were the only place left. Zak had visited them before, and combined with his knowledge of the maintenance zone, was certain there was no way out from there.

He noticed that among all the tables, in the centre of the restaurant, was a familiar-looking large bench. A thought occurred to him. The outer shell had a vent leading to reception. Could there be another vent under that bench? He could see a gap underneath the seats at one end which seemed to lead back. He decided that he must investigate the bench. Unfortunately, there were a number of people sitting on top of it.

Krushkov gathered the remaining four hijackers for a quick discussion. He and Ubogu then left the restaurant. Romero approached the front of the crowd and spoke via the loudspeaker. `Attention!' he shouted. `We need to search you and check you off the rosters. So, everyone move down to the far side. Take your things with you. Go!'

Zak at first hoped for mass disobedience, but then realised that this was a chance to grab the bench.

It took some gun pointing to get people moving, but before long, everyone was herding into one corner of the restaurant, leaving the rest of it empty. Zak had a suspicion that this could be a trick, and that the hijackers were going to gun them down. But he realised that the blasters and ES guns did not fire quickly enough. If everyone rebelled, the hijackers could be overpowered. It was only the threat that was keeping them in control. But who would be willing to die in making the first move?

Brigard made a brief search of the cleared area under the tables and chairs, to make sure nothing was left behind. Fang brought out a deep crate from the kitchen, which he plonked next to a table.

Romero and Fang positioned themselves either side of the table.

Zak guessed that Romero was second in-command. Apart from Krushkov, he was the only one to exude authority. Tanned and with big hair to go with his moustache, he wasn't a big man. But an intense look of determination made him look fearsome.

Fang was the other saboteur. His moustache appeared much larger given his short but unkempt black hair. Slouching as if he didn't care much, he didn't look quite so threatening. But Zak sensed it wouldn't be a good idea to get on his wrong side.

Romero gestured the first person forward. It was a middle aged man in a suit. Fang ordered him to empty his pockets onto the table, then frisked him. Romero rifled through his belongings, and confiscated his wallet and wristband, which he threw in the crate. The man was obviously seething, but said nothing. He picked up his valueless belongings and made to walk to the other side. `Wait! The ring,' said Fang, pointing to the man's left hand. `No!' said the man firmly.

Fang punched him in the stomach. The man yelled and doubled over, but didn't fall. Then Fang whacked him on the back, and down he went.

There was a chorus of cries from the crowd.

Fang crouched down and pulled the ring off the man's finger.

Romero addressed the crowd again. `And it will be the same treatment for anyone who hides weapons or valuables. So get them ready to hand over,' he said.

Zak sensed the mood change. Whereas initially it was more frustration than anger, the prospect of being mugged made everyone an individual victim. He suddenly thought of Skye and Gran's ring.

He looked at Skye to see a sight he had never seen before. On her face was a look of utter horror.

Brigard had returned to the main door, and stood guard. Romero and Fang called people forward one at a time, to search them and their belongings.

The other end of the restaurant began to fill with increasingly upset passengers and crew members. Thankfully for Zak, they all camped at the tables. He hadn't anticipated a rush to occupy the bench, because its hard seats didn't look particularly comfortable compared to the lush upholstery of the dining chairs. And it was not as practical a place to situate yourself for a few days than a table. But the tables near to the bench were becoming occupied, so Zak felt the need to grab it now. He whispered to his family. `We need to grab that bench. Let's make our way forward next.' `What?' whispered Mum. `I don't want to sit there for three days.' `No, it will be better. You'll see,' said Zak, unwilling to give any explanation.

He broke forward from the crowd, presenting himself to Romero and Fang. He had nothing of any sentimental value, but was still narked to lose his wristband and Mind Patch. After this, he wandered over to the bench and sat down.

Next in line was Skye. With tears in her eyes she slowly made her way forward.

Immediately Fang noticed the ring. `Give!' he said, beckoning with his finger.

Skye lifted her hand. Fang grabbed it and yanked the ring off, tossing it in the crate. He searched her thoroughly, while Romero took items from her bag.

She shuffled forward to where Zak was sitting, and slumped down with her head in her hands.

Zak uncomfortably put his arm round her. `Don't worry,' he whispered. `I'll get it back for you.'

She lifted her head up and made an expression of gratitude, then rested her head on his shoulder. Zak had not meant that he would go on some foolish quest for the ring, but that he would try and rescue the entire situation, and in doing so, recover it.

Mum and Dad joined them on the bench, both looking equally devastated. Zak wasn't sure what he was going to do, but he had taken the first step in fighting back. He decided to wait until a more appropriate time before investigating his potential escape route.

It took some time for the hijackers to process everyone. By the time they had finished, Zak's backside was already numb. `Why did you make us sit here Zak?' said Mum. `It's so uncomfortable.' `Sorry,' he said. He knew it didn't matter now, as all the tables were taken.

To his surprise, and that of everyone after their miserable experience, Krushkov and Ubogu appeared in the main entrance carrying duvets and blankets. From the brown zigzag pattern, Zak recognised them as cabin bedclothes. `I apologise for your traumatic experience so far,' said Krushkov. `That is an unfortunate consequence of being a victim of crime.

However, we are not complete barbarians, so we're going to help you get comfortable for the next few days.' He smiled. `Conditional of course, on good behaviour.'

Zak realised the true situation, that if conditions got desperate, it would incite a rebellion they wouldn't be able to contain. Krushkov was now conducting a strategy of pacifying everyone.

With Fang, Romero and Brigard standing guard, Krushkov and Ubogu made heavy work of fetching and distributing the bedding.

Each time they returned, they emptied their pockets into the crate containing the wallets, jewellery and other valuables. Zak concluded that having raided all the cabins to get the bedding, they would naturally have pocketed any other goodies found within.

When they had finished, Krushkov gave a quiet word to Fang, who then picked up the crate with a grunt, and carried it outside.

Krushkov and Ubogu entered the kitchens.

If being given bedding was surprising but welcome, their next act of altruism left people open-mouthed. Out of the kitchen strode Krushkov, followed by Ubogu pushing a trolley filled with trays of "solar squares". He wheeled it round handing the pastries to the bemused prisoners. `I hate to give the game away,' announced Krushkov, `but we didn't make these for you - we found them!'

Krushkov approached the chefs, who were sitting together in their white uniforms. He pointed at the one with the biggest hat.

`You,' he said. `Can you keep everyone fed?' `Yes,' said the chef nervously. `Do it then!' said Krushkov, motioning toward the kitchen. `And keep it simple. Remember, no-one's paying.'

The chef hurried into the kitchen. Krushkov signalled to Ubogu to follow and watch him.

*

8pm SST Sunday 13 January 2085 Zak ate the chef's quickly rustled up food, which still topped the fare from the Red Planet Bar. With a further announcement that permission was not required to visit the toilet, it became clear to him that the forthcoming days imprisoned by the hijackers would be bearable.

Despite the early time, several people had begun to bed down on the thickly carpeted floor. After hours of sitting on the bench, Zak found the floor welcoming. The ceiling lights appeared to have been brightened, and this made him sleepy after the stress of the day.

There was general calm throughout the restaurant. Despite their ordeal, few people had witnessed the gunfight and seen the killings.

Only hijackers and security staff had been killed, so the vast majority of people had not suffered the deaths of friends or family. They had no reason to be distraught.

Four of the hijackers Romero, Fang, Brigard and Ubogu sat quietly but alert by the main entrance.

The gap under the bench directly faced the main entrance, so Zak had draped a blanket over the whole bench, in the hope that anyone who had noticed the gap would forget about it.

Dad lay on top of the bench, and was dozing off. Mum and Skye were resting on the floor in front, lying close together. Zak decided it was time to make a break for it.

He lay down on the floor next to the gap, then covered himself completely by a duvet. He waited a few minutes in case anyone's attention had been drawn, then carefully lifted the bottom of the blanket and pulled himself into the gap. It was a narrow tunnel, so he had to drag himself along.

There was a faint glow of light at the back, but having entered from a brightly lit room his eyes hadn't adjusted, and he couldn't make out the shape. As he put his head over it, he could more clearly see the expected blur of a spinning fan. He groped around, hoping there was a handle on top. His hands caught some kind of bar, which he grabbed and pulled up. The space was tight, so he had to put his hands underneath the fan, lift it open and push it back.

He slithered head first through the hole, and dropped down onto a bare metal floor. He recognised the peculiar sight of the outer shell curving up in one direction, but stretching flat into the distance in the other.

He reached up and pulled the fan shut. He had escaped.

Chapter 10: Emergency Security Clearance

8pm SST Sunday 13 January 2085

Zak let his eyes adjust to the peculiar light in the outer shell. He presumed the hijackers thought everyone was locked up, as they hadn't issued any more calls since gathering in the restaurant. But Krushkov had warned they would continue to watch the PSIs. He'd better not dawdle.

He suspected that the senior crew would have been taken to the jail, so he decided to try there first. Its location was 18-I-R, near the centre of the ship on the upper floor.

He looked for a hole to get out, but realised he had dropped down in the middle of the huge restaurant. Looking along the ship, the nearest hole, visible via a dim ray of light, seemed miles away. It would be quicker to crawl round to a different quadrant.

He scrambled along the outer shell in the direction of the curve, and eventually came to a vertical shaft of light created by a hole leading to the lower maintenance zone.

With great care, he eased his head out and checked there was noone around. He pulled himself out of the hole, and immediately started climbing the ladder. To his surprise he surged up the ladder - had he lost weight? He perched himself on the edge of the restaurant's huge rectangular roof, which curved up out of sight to one side. The shapes and distances confirmed he was near the front of the ship. To his relief, it was deserted.

The ladder continued on to the upper maintenance zone. It looked a long climb, but he reached the top in seconds. Stepping onto the roof, he struggled to plant his feet. The sensation was different to before - this time he was nearly weightless.

The room he was standing on indicated its location as 4-I-B. With no sign of any hijackers, he headed directly along the ship. He bounded across the roofs in huge strides, leaping the gaps between the passageways with ease. In no time he reached slice 18. He now had to head back along the direction of the curve to reach the red quadrant.

Simple. He caught sight of the location panel stating 18-I-R. The jail covered one whole quadrant and slice, and had just one exit. Zak related this view from above to what he had seen during Herbet's tour.

He checked for any kind of opening or vent that would allow him to see or get inside the jail. But there was none, it was completely sealed. Computer access was required. Stepping off the roof caused him to drift to the floor, and he touched the wall to activate a login.

To his surprise and relief, he found that the Observational Security Clearance given to him by Geremi was still active.

Using the CCTV, he brought up the view within the jail. The default view pointed towards the prisoners. The area behind the bars was far too small to accommodate them comfortably. Most were sitting on the floor, and even those on the benches were sat rather too cosily together. But they were calm, and some were engaged in conversation, suggesting a relaxed regime.

He panned the view around. There were two guards, Zahedi and Saltzmann, sitting by the table at the opposite end of the room. They were also chatting away. He wondered if he could hear them.

He found the Microphone page. There were dozens of microphones positioned all round the walls, and the system highlighted their location over the CCTV image. He could select any collection of them, so he picked out a group next to the table. `He said he couldn't come out for another two weeks,' said Zahedi. `I said I've got water collecting on the kitchen floor, it can't go anywhere.' `These people can treat you how they like,' said Saltzmann, `there's only five of them in the city.'

Zak didn't know what they were talking about, but he felt they were suitably engaged. He moved the view round to see Geremi, who was sitting in the middle of the arc, against the slice wall. Herbet was just the next but one person along from him.

Zak activated the microphones behind them, then examined the options for the loudspeaker system. He found that like the microphones, there were many speakers dotted around the walls. He selected a group just behind Geremi's head, and set the volume low, so that he could speak without whispering. `Geremi,' he said. `Its me, Zak.'

Geremi's face lit up. He took a deep breath and suppressed his smile. But those around him also heard. `What is it?' whispered Herbet, without looking at Geremi. Zak could see that they were acting to ensure the guards didn't notice. `Its Zak Carter,' whispered Geremi. `He's communicating with me.'

The expression that formed on Herbet's face was watched with delight by Zak. It was a mixture of shock, outrage, hope and the struggle to contain those feelings. `It seems that everyone who should be locked up is on the loose,' he jibed. `Where are you Zak?' said Geremi. `I'm right behind this wall,' said Zak. `I escaped from the restaurant through one of those fans. `Fantastic,' said Geremi. `They're called air circulators, but how did you know about those?'

He didn't let Zak answer. `Ah!' he continued. `You know, you don't have to come here to contact us, you can do it from any screen. But we'll need to remove your PSI from the system, otherwise the hijackers are bound to spot you.' `Okay. How do I do that?' said Zak. `We'll have to give you security clearance,' said Geremi. `Herbet will explain.'

The man sitting between the two stood up and headed towards the toilet. Herbet shifted next to Geremi.

`Zak,' said Herbet. `I didn't think I would be glad to hear your voice again. Well done.'

Zak sensed that he was actually being genuine.

Herbet continued, careful to keep his voice down and not draw the attention of the guards. `We have had to give Krushkov what is called Maximum Security Clearance. So he now has total control of the ship, and complete access to everything on the ship's computer.' `Oh,' said Zak. `So I'm going to give you Emergency Security Clearance,' said Herbet. `This is superior to Maximum Security Clearance, because of one crucial element. You can secretly override any setting on the computer, which won't be visible to anyone using the system with Maximum Security Clearance.' `Wow!' exclaimed Zak, taken aback at the power being handed out to him. `Emergency Security Clearance is for use in a situation such as this. But we were taken by surprise, and didn't have time to make use of it. We were overwhelmed pretty quickly.'

Taken by surprise, apart from his warnings, thought Zak. `These hijackers are savvy about surveillance Zak, so you are going to have to stay on the ball, as it could be a running battle to stay undetected.' `I'm up for it,' said Zak, excited at Herbet's sudden confidence in him.

Herbet whispered the name and passcode, and Zak entered them as he did so. `Now, remove your PSI immediately,' said Herbet.

Zak found himself with full access to the security system. He quickly brought up the PSI signal map. His escape didn't look too obvious, as there was one mass of dots in the restaurant, and a smaller collection around the jail. Only one dot lay outside those two places, located in the Security Office. Zak requested the name from the computer, and found it was Krushkov.

Zak saw that his own dot was slightly outside the rectangle representing the jail, which he feared would be noticed by anyone inspecting the map closely. He investigated the options available to him, and found one to deactivate his signal. He selected it, and his dot turned a pale red.

He was unsure what that signified. Examining the screen again, he found an option to show settings as seen on Maximum Security Clearance. He selected this, and his dot disappeared from the screen. `Invisible,' he said, congratulating himself. `I've done it Herbet,' he said. `Do you know what they are going to do? When they took over, Romero said they had thirty-six hours to wait.' `I don't know what they really want,' said Herbet. `It's good to hear that we've got time. An SOS was automatically sent out, and Earth's military forces will pick that up, but there is little they can do.

We're right in the middle of the journey. It will take them days to mount a rescue.' `If the hijackers are robbing us, how are they going to get away?' asked Zak. `They must have their own ship that they're going to dock with us,' said Herbet. `But I'm not so sure this is a robbery. I was surprised when they said there was a valuable cargo on board. As part of our security check, we picked through all the cargo with a fine nanocomb, and there was nothing of great value. I believe that is not the genuine reason for this hijack. There is something else afoot.' `Could they be the MMM?' asked Zak. `I doubt it,' said Herbet, `Most of the MMM are Scandinavians.

These guys are a mixed bunch, so I'm sure they're some criminal gang.' `If I could get hold of a gun, I could take them all out,' said Zak. `I play V-Commando, and I'm lethal.'

Zak was disappointed to see Geremi shake his head vigorously. `I don't think you should be concerned with guns Zak,' said Herbet. `It would be far too dangerous to get into a gunfight with these people. You saw how they were more than a match for our security team.'

`But…' said Zak. `There aren't any more guns anyway. We only had three, and the hijackers have got them all.' `You'd be surprised what I can do,' protested Zak in vain. `Zak,' said Geremi. `You have an enormous amount of power at your disposal through the ship's computer. Concentrate your efforts on making use of it. However, you must be careful. If it becomes obvious that the settings are being tampered with, they'll be onto you.

It is vital that you stay hidden. Do not reveal yourself under any circumstances. If you are caught, then we really are finished. We were in utter despair just five minutes ago. You're the only hope we have.'

Zak was irritated by the dismissive response towards his abilities, but he listened carefully to Geremi, and tried to absorb his advice about using the system. `For example, you could unlock the cell door,' said Herbet.

Zak found the option on the computer before Herbet had drawn breath. `Don't do it,' said Herbet just in time. `We must wait for the right time. Otherwise the hijackers will shoot us, and if there's chaos, many may die.'

Zak said nothing, trying to comprehend the responsibility now conferred on him. He had to take great care with his actions. But it didn't mean he couldn't steal a gun. `It's been a shattering day,' said Herbet. `I think we could all do with a night's rest. Contact us again in the morning, and we'll discuss a strategy for turning this round.' `That suits me,' said Zak. `And Zak,' said Geremi, `if you get a moment, could you take Rocky for a walk?' `Sure,' said Zak, uncertainly. `I'm joking. That would be far too risky,' said Geremi.

Zak could see both men smiling. He checked on the guards, who were still deep in conversation.

Zak stepped back from the wall and marvelled at the power he'd been given. He could control the entire ship. It was like having a new toy, and it was very tempting to play around with it. He wondered what he could do - take the ship on a detour round the Solar System perhaps.

Just as he was about to leave, another idea came to him. He brought up the CCTV page, and selected Valles Marineris. A view of the restaurant appeared from just over the main entrance, showing the mass of people sitting at tables and lying on the floor. He requested a search for his dad, and the view zoomed in on the bench. His family were all still lying down, visibly upset, but unaware of his disappearance.

Then he had another thought. It was hard to pull himself away!

He requested a search for Caviana. The view zoomed out, panned to the right, then zoomed in again. She and her father were lying down beside a table, but he could only see the top of her head. So he swivelled the view round to find a camera that showed her face, then manually zoomed in until her head and pillow filled the whole wall.

She was awake, and her eyes gazed at the floor.

He stared at her hugely magnified face. Her eyes were ringed red - or was that just a trick of the light? She blinked a few times, twitched her nose and rubbed her head into the pillow.

Zak continued to stare for what seemed like too long, then finally decided he ought to stop. Was he doing anything wrong? Well, noone would know about it.

He copied the video of the CCTV session to his own files.

According to the PSI map the hijackers had not moved, so he decided to return by the same route he came. As he walked away from the screen, the system automatically logged him out. He jumped up the nearest steps, bounded his way back along the roofs and descended the ladder down to the outer shell.

When he reached the air circulator, he pushed up the fan, and squeezed through underneath the bench. Then, he carefully eased himself under the blanket and back under the duvet. Just to check that no-one had noticed his arrival, he poked his head out. The restaurant was quiet and still. He wrapped himself up in the duvet and tried to go to sleep. Thrilled by his escape and new powers, it took some time, but eventually the day took its toll and he fell into a deep sleep.

*

8am SST Monday 14 January 2085 Zak was woken with a kick to the shins. Before opening his eyes, he wondered how long he had been asleep and how Skye could possibly be in the mood to torment him. He opened his eyes, to find Fang standing over him, ES gun in hand.

Horrified, Zak tried to think how he had been discovered. Had the hijackers known he had escaped all along? `Breakfast,' said Fang, throwing a couple of bread rolls at him.

Zak looked with surprise at the time on his watch. It was so easy to lose track, and with the restaurant lights still blazing, the scene appeared identical to that when he went to bed.

The family sat on the floor facing each other, to eat the food handed out. It resembled a picnic, but without the chat. The quietness in the restaurant seemed to amplify the hum of equipment coming from the kitchen. He could see a few people talking nearby, but the sound of their voices was lost in the background noise.

Zak realised that with the whole day ahead, it would not be easy to sneak out without his family noticing. He had to tell them what he was going to do, but he wasn't sure how to break the news. He judged that it was safe to talk quietly, so he made a start at conversation. `Hey Dad,' he said. `You wanted to talk to me about my future.

About alternative careers.'

Dad's expression conveyed that he thought that was a stupid question. `What's the point!' he whispered sharply. `We've got to get out of here alive first, before we can think about our future.'

`We will get out alive,' snapped Mum, `These robbers are only after their loot. They've no need to harm us.' `How can you be so sure?' said Dad. `You heard about those other ships. They were blown up. Who knows if these aren't the same people.'

Zak wondered what people Dad was talking about, as he had assured Zak the ships had exploded in accidents.

Dad's face showed distress. `Oh I wish I'd never decided to go to Mars,' he lamented. `I knew there was a risk, but I thought we'd have to be very unlucky to get caught up in anything. It's all my fault.' `I'm not having you talking like that now,' said Mum, getting angry, but keeping her voice down. `Pull yourself together. We had no choice. We're here in this situation and we'll just have to keep our heads down, ride it out, and survive until it's over. So let's stay calm.' `Actually Mum,' said Zak, `According to Mr. Herbet, the hijackers are lying about the robbery.' `How would you know that? He isn't here,' said Mum, puzzled. `Because I spoke to him last night.'

Mum, Dad and Skye leaned forward, in demand of an explanation. `Behind that blanket, underneath the bench, is a way out of here,' said Zak.

They all turned to look at the bench. `Don't stare!' said Zak, `You'll draw attention to it.'

They quickly turned back. `It's a passage that leads to the maintenance zone. I've been out already.' `What!' exclaimed Mum in a hushed voice that was a suppressed shout. `It's dangerous out there, with those hijackers roaming around.' `Yes it is dangerous,' acknowledged Zak. `So I don't want any of you going out there.'

That warning appeared to wrongfoot everyone. Dad was clearly desperate to protest, but couldn't find the words.

`Last night, I spoke to Herbet and Geremi, who are being held in the jail,' said Zak. `They have given me Emergency Security Clearance for the ship's computer. I am invisible to the ship's trackers, so the hijackers will never know I've escaped. I am going to help the crew regain control of the ship.'

The expressions of puzzlement turned to horror. `But Zak,' said Dad, `those men will kill you, especially if you do anything to them. Don't go out there again. Please.' `I need to find out what the hijackers are really up to, and work with the crew on a plan.' `But let them deal with it,' said Mum. `But they, are all in jail,' insisted Zak. `I'm the only one who can do anything.' `Zak,' said Skye. `We're all very upset about being robbed, but we'd be even more upset if anything happened to you.' `I will be very careful, I promise,' said Zak. But this was met with frustrated glares. `And besides, if you try and stop me, I'll make a scene.'

Their eyes remained on him, unblinking. They were clearly very scared. If he gave them any more details, they might be petrified.

He'd settle for simply scaring them.

Breakfast over, Zak waited for things to settle down so he could judge the right time to make his exit. Today, he was going to wreak havoc.

Chapter 11: Torment

9am SST Monday 14 January 2085

After breakfast, Zak allowed himself half an hour to assess the hijackers' regime. They were happy to let people talk, and also tolerated the odd person visiting another table. Only when several people were up at the same time did they get jittery and order everyone to sit back down.

Zak pretended to go back to bed. He lay under the duvet for a while, then slipped under the blanket and out through the air circulator.

He needed a place to hide safely, so picked the location furthest away from the hijackers the upper maintenance zone at 32-I-B. The map indicated a narrow passageway running between the outside wall of the cargo hold and the bare metal wall that ended the living area.

Zak ignored a nearby ladder and jumped down into the passageway. It immediately met his approval. No-one would have reason to come here.

Before making contact with Herbet and Geremi, he thought he'd do a little investigation of his own, in order to get a handle on the hijackers' routine.

He activated a large section of the wall and logged in to the ship's computer. He displayed the PSI map, and positioned it to his right. All the yellow dots were far along the ship. If anyone came near him, he would see them in plenty of time.

The first question in Zak's mind was - who had guns? He searched for and brought up on screen each hijacker in turn. The two blasters they had assembled were in the hands of Krushkov and Romero. Of the three ES guns, the restaurant guards Fang and Brigard had one each. Ubogu was unarmed, but then given his size, thought Zak, he didn't need a gun. The other ES gun was held by Zahedi, one of the two prison guards. So the status of the hijackers was seven men and five guns.

Zak realised it would be difficult to obtain one of those guns. But if he could, he was sure he could put a stop to the whole enterprise.

They were clumsy weapons compared to what he generally used, but he would be more than competent with them, and had seen nothing during the takeover to scare him.

He played around with the options available on Emergency Security Clearance. He found that via the PSI tracking system, he could automatically follow any person. The computer would select the best camera to watch them, and use the nearest microphone to pick up any speech.

He set this up for each hijacker, and saved each configuration so that he could quickly activate them later. For now, he displayed seven windows on the wall, so he could listen to and watch all of them at the same time.

He monitored them for a good half an hour. The hijackers were working in pairs and chatted away - Zahedi and Saltzmann as prison guards, wittering on about the hassles of life on Mars; Romero and Fang guarding the main entrance to the restaurant, recounting wild nights out in the city; Brigard and Ubogu barring the way to the kitchens, catching up on gossip. Talk was occasionally initiated by Krushkov, who spent his time in the Security office, and spoke to his men from there.

Zak realised that it would be useful to be able to access the computer while on the move or from within the restaurant. To do this, he would need to obtain a replacement wristband, or preferably Mind Patch.

He was just about to contact Geremi to ask where he could get one, when he heard Brigard and Ubogu's conversation take an interesting turn. Zak had been ignoring it, but then Ubogu mentioned a filming session. Zak turned the volume up on both men and enlarged the two windows containing them.

The two were clearly the youngest in the group. Zak recognised Brigard as the lanky one who had covered his face. He carried a constant expression of uncertainty. One nanoprobe short of a set, suspected Zak. Ubogu, tall and black, had almost killed a security guard with one punch. He tried to look confident, but his young face betrayed a trace of vulnerability. `…a couple of weeks ago, some of us were called in by Krushkov,' said Ubogu. `No, I didn't hear anything about that,' said Brigard. `It was really weird,' said Ubogu. `There was all this MMM stuff.

The whole room was decorated in banners and flags, and we had to put on the clothes they wear. You know, combat gear and balaclavas.' `What was it for?' asked Brigard. `Well, our job was just to stand there in front of the camera, dressed in all this gear holding ES rifles. Krushkov was at the front, disguised as an MMM guy as well. He read out a statement saying that the MMM were responsible for blowing up the passenger ship Colossus.' `Blowing it up!' said Brigard. `Yep,' said Ubogu. `Remember our briefing? He told us we were just going to steal that container, but I'm pretty sure that when Sato turns up, we'll be transporting a bomb on board in its place. Then leaving pretty sharpish.'

Zak almost crumpled with terror on hearing this. Herbet was right for once, there was more to this than a robbery. `That's crazy,' said Brigard, with a touch of outrage. `We're going to kill all these people. We'll be hunted down and put away for life.' `Not if the MMM are blamed for it,' said Ubogu, smugly.

Brigard had a look of concern. `Hang on, that reminds me of something. Oh.' `What's that?' said Ubogu. `My brother's in the Red Pieces as well, in Pangea City,' said Brigard. `He's in a small group that's been training for a major assault on a building. The guys there don't know what it's all about, but they heard that groups in the other cities are doing the same.'

`This must have something to do with it,' said Ubogu. `So the MMM will be held responsible for a catastrophe, then after a crackdown our guys launch a major attack.'

The two reached the conclusion together. `A coup!' they said simultaneously.

Zak had a moment of respect for them. They weren't as dumb as he had assumed. `So the Red King has concocted a master plan,' said Ubogu with admiration. `That's an amazing plan. You'd have to get the MMM out of the way first,' said Brigard. `Did you hear about that row on the news recently,' said Ubogu, `people were complaining that if Mars suffered a crisis, it would take a long time for the authorities on Earth to deal with it.' `So if we took over, we'd have time to build some kind of defence. The Red King would be in control of an entire planet,' said Brigard, astonished at his own conclusion.

Ubogu started to laugh, but was interrupted. `Careless talk!' said Krushkov, speaking from the Security office. `What do they say?' `Yes boss,' muttered both of them nervously. `I've been listening to all that. I can hear the cogs whirring in your little minds,' said Krushkov. `Yes we will be leaving a bomb.

You don't need to know any more about that, as neither of you are required for that part of the operation. As for the idea of a coup, I've never heard such a load of rubbish in my life. We're here to do a robbery. Suffice to say the bomb is to cover our tracks.'

Zak could see that Brigard was dissatisfied with this explanation. `I don't want to hear you spouting this nonsense to anyone else.

Understood!' said Krushkov.

It wasn't a question. `Yes boss,' they both answered.

But Zak was listening, and was determined to spout it to someone else. A minute later, he had played back the conversation to Geremi and Herbet, using the audio from his personal video record.

There was a stunned silence among all those close enough to hear it. `That's just incredible,' said Herbet. `I can't believe the Red Pieces would try anything so audacious.' `You didn't believe anyone could hijack the ship,' Zak reminded him bluntly. `Yes,' said Herbet with humility. `We have to take it seriously.' `Who are the Red Pieces?' asked Zak. `They are the main organised crime syndicate on Mars,' said Herbet. `Organised crime on Mars!' said Zak with incredulity. `Mars has a male population of seventy-five percent, so there is a huge demand for the seedy side of life. Criminal gangs are the main suppliers of that sort of thing. Mars' population is still less than a million, which is why one group is so dominant. Their hierarchy is based on chess pieces, and the leader is called the Red King. No-one knows who or where he is. I can't imagine it's Krushkov. He must be a Lieutenant, or Red Bishop. The Red Pieces are proving difficult to deal with, and they're growing.'

Zak could understand why his dad was feeling guilty. What kind of place was he bringing them to? Zak had only just got his head around the MMM. `So what do we do?' asked Zak, exasperated. `We've got a day to disrupt their plans,' said Herbet. `We've dealt them a major blow already. They have to hold the ship for far longer than they intended and they are three men down. We need to cut them down further.'

Zak became excited. `I don't mean that you will kill them,' said Herbet. `But you could lock them up, wear them down, tire them out. They will get stretched and make mistakes. When they are vulnerable, you can let us out. Then, we will take back the ship. How does that sound?' `Yes, I'll do it,' said Zak. `There are seven of them, and they have five guns. Any ideas?'

`Yes Zak,' said Geremi. `It is possible to deactivate the ES guns via the ship's computer. That would weaken them. But I advise against doing that in one go. Remember, if they suspect someone is acting against them, they will threaten us and the passengers. So act with subtlety, knock out one gun at a time.' `Okay,' said Zak, taking a moment to think about that. `I've noticed that gravity is a bit light.' `Yes,' said Geremi, `I had to tell them how to lower the gravity.

They aren't used to Earth-strength gravity, as it's much greater than Mars. So they've set it to a more comfortable level.' `Ah. We thought they had a problem,' said Zak. `We?' said Geremi. `Myself and Ragboy. He noticed before the hijack that Krushkov struggled on the lower floor.' `Good. If you increase it, they'll get tired,' said Geremi. `Do it gradually and they might not notice. What you need to do is increase the ship's rotation.' `That should be fun. I'll give that a go,' said Zak. `Things do go wrong on a ship like this Zak,' said Geremi. `So you have to make any tampering seem like a malfunction.' `Okay. Anything else?' asked Zak. `There's so many things,' said Geremi. `You have complete control. So explore the options. Use your imagination.' `I could do with being able to monitor these guys on the move.' `Ah yes,' said Geremi. `Go to my office, there's stacks of equipment in there. We've got a whole box full of Mind Patches. The hijackers couldn't possibly have plundered it all. The door is locked, but that shouldn't stop you.' `Thanks, I'll pick up some useful gear,' said Zak. `Good luck Zak,' said Herbet. `And keep us informed.'

Zak rested back against the opposite wall, and stared at the various windows he had on display. It was an uncomfortable spot, but he decided against bringing anything to sit on in case the hijackers searched the area.

His aim was to cause disruption, remembering Geremi's warning to keep it subtle. The first ruse was to increase the gravity.

He accessed Ship Rotation, and examined the options. The rotation rate for Earth-strength gravity on the lower floor was given as fourteen metres per second. It was currently set to ten metres per second. Zak didn't understand the meaning of these figures, but he changed it again, instructing the system to increase it up to eighteen, the level at which the gauge turned red, and do so gradually over a period of three hours. `That should strain those legs,' he muttered to himself, smiling.

His next ruse was to lock up one of the hijackers, and he imagined a toilet break would provide an opportunity to achieve it. He suspected they would be reluctant to use the restaurant toilets as it would put them at risk of an ambush. So at some point, he hoped, one of them would venture out alone.

He would have to wait patiently. With one eye on the PSI map, he passed the time by exploring the ship's computer, to find out what other tricks Emergency Security Clearance had to offer.

After an hour, he had fully acquainted himself with the system, and gained some useful ideas. But with not a single sign of movement, he found the wait frustrating. Did these men have bowels of steel? If they were going to spend the entire time standing in one place, he would have to think of ways to distract them.

At last, dots stirred near the entrance to the restaurant. Zak checked the CCTV. Fang had walked over to Ubogu and handed him his ES gun, and now he was heading for the door.

Zak followed Fang on camera as he left the restaurant and crossed the foyer to the toilets opposite. He readied himself as Fang entered a cubicle, shut the door and locked it.

Zak accessed Door Status, which presented him with a long list of every door on the ship. He found the door to Fang's cubicle and set it to be permanently locked. He watched Fang through the cameras in the ceiling, and waited.

And waited.

Fang was taking a particularly long time, and Zak was thankful that he did not have smell-o-vision. Fang started whistling a tune that Zak recognised as the anthem on the MMM site. `Get a move on!' said Zak impatiently.

`Fang!' shouted an angry voice. It was Krushkov. `What are you doing?' `Sorry boss,' said Fang. `I'll be right back.'

Zak expanded his view of the Security office. It appeared Krushkov was doing the same as himself, watching and listening to all the others. Even when they were just visiting the loo.

Fang hurriedly concluded his business and flushed the toilet.

Then, he unlocked the door and tried to open it. But despite indicating otherwise, it was still locked. He pressed the switch to lock and unlock it, and tried the door again. `Hmm,' said Fang. The door still wouldn't open.

He repeatedly pressed the switch and pulled at the door, getting increasingly frustrated. Zak smiled with satisfaction.

With a sigh, Fang gave up. He inspected the structure around him, but the gaps at the top and bottom were too narrow to squeeze through. He stroked his moustache for a second, then stepped back, and rammed the door with the sole of his boot. `Oops,' said Zak. `He's angry.'

But the door withstood the impact. And despite repeated kicks, Fang put not so much as a dent in it. `Damn good workmanship,' he muttered, taking a breather, and slapping his hand onto the side of the cubicle. `What's going on in there?' said Krushkov. `The door won't open,' said Fang. `No problem, just needs a bit of muscle.'

Fang stood back again, and formed himself into a martial art stance. There was not a great deal of room in the cubicle, but he didn't need it. He kicked at the door with huge force. The noise of the boot pounding into it made Zak fear that the entire row of cubicles might come away from the wall, but they stood firm. Fang followed up with more powerful kicks. The extent of his repertoire became even more impressive as he rained a combination of punches and kicks precisely onto the locking mechanism. Zak wondered how much longer this could go on, but still the door held its ground. Fang paused, clearly furious, and psyched himself up for another go. He yelled a battle cry and punched the door with all his might.

To Zak's delight, Fang broke first. He doubled over, clenching his fist to his chest, and let out a whimper. `Boss,' he said quietly. `I need some help.'

Krushkov breathed in deeply through his nose, and rubbed his forehead. `Brigard,' he called, sternly. `Yes boss,' said Brigard. `Fang's stuck in the toilet at 10-O-R. Get him out. You'll need your gun.' `Yes boss.'

Brigard looked at Romero, who nodded. Then he made his way out of the door towards the toilets.

Zak was ready with the next stage of his plan. He disabled Brigard's ES gun, and as Brigard entered the toilet, locked the front door behind him. `Fang,' said Brigard. `Shall I shoot the lock?' `Yeah,' said Fang. `But do it from an angle will you, I'm right behind this door.'

Brigard stood beside the door and pointed the gun down at the lock. He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. `What's up with this gun?' he said.

Zak burst out laughing. He was enjoying the show.

Brigard checked the gun and tried again. But still it did nothing. `This gun isn't working,' said Brigard. `What is going on!' said Krushkov, increasingly annoyed. `How can it not be working. Go and get another. Use Romero's blaster if you have to.'

Brigard tried to open the front door, but found it locked. `Now I can't get out,' he said. `Oh for god's sake,' said Krushkov, his face reddening. `You're clowns. The lot of you.'

Zak thought that at this rate, the hijack would be all over by midday. `Romero,' said Krushkov. `Go and release those goons will you.' `If I leave the restaurant,' said Romero, `there will only be Ubogu left.'

`Well make it quick then,' shouted Krushkov. `Yes boss,' said Romero.

Romero walked out of the restaurant calmly, and when the door had closed behind him, sprinted towards the toilets. He aimed the blaster at the door handle. `Stand back Brigard,' he shouted.

He fired the blaster. The door flew open, and the handle disappeared as a small fire twisted in its place.

Romero ran in and repeated the action on the cubicle door. He quickly turned and ran back to the restaurant. `Sorted out,' he said. `Well done Romero,' said Krushkov. `Glad to know someone is competent around here.'

Fang emerged from the cubicle clutching his fist. He went to the sink, and ran some water on his hand. Brigard remained, examining his gun. `Fang!' said Krushkov. `Get back to the restaurant. Brigard, you stay where you are.'

Fang slouched, and miserably trudged out of the toilet. Brigard remained within, looking concerned.

Zak reflected on this. Some stress had been caused, but otherwise, he hadn't achieved much. He hoped that it would provide some distraction against the increasing gravity.

He thought about the communication between the hijackers.

Since it had to be directed through the ship's computer, he had the ability to cut off that communication. By locking a person up, cutting them off and removing their PSI, he could effectively make them disappear.

Krushkov eventually made his way down to the toilets. He marched in and gave Brigard a fierce stare. `Let me see that gun,' he said impatiently.

Zak re-activated the gun. He wanted to see Krushkov lose his temper again.

Brigard held out the gun. Krushkov took it and pointed it at Brigard's forehead.

`So it doesn't work. Is that what you're telling me?' said Krushkov.

Brigard stepped back, with dread in his eyes. `Uh-oh,' said Zak. But he was caught wondering whether or not it would be better for Brigard to die.

Krushkov turned and pointed the gun at the mirror over the sink.

He pulled the trigger, and an electro blast fired out and shattered the glass.

Krushkov slapped the gun at Brigard's chest. Brigard grabbed it. `I've got a new job for you,' said Krushkov. `One which even a dimwit like you should be able to handle. Zahedi and Saltzmann have run out of things to talk about, so I'm going to send them on an errand. I want you to guard the jail. It's a simple job. Just keep an eye on the prisoners and make sure there's no mischief. Don't tell them you can't work a gun.'

Brigard made to leave, but stopped when he saw Krushkov remain. `What are you waiting for?' Krushkov roared. `Oh. Are you coming?' said Brigard. `No!' exclaimed Krushkov. `I need to take a leak.'

Zak was keen to drop by the Tech Room and acquire some gear.

But first he wanted to see what errand Krushkov had planned for Zahedi and Saltzmann.

Krushkov finished his business in the toilet just as Brigard arrived at the jail. `Zahedi, Saltzmann!' he called. `I've sent Brigard to relieve you.

I want you to go down to the Tech Room, and rummage through the equipment there. Collect anything valuable, and take it to our container in the cargo hold.' `Yes boss!' they replied, almost simultaneously. `There's no rush, so be thorough,' said Krushkov. `While you're at it, check some of the ship's monitoring systems. We're having some malfunctions that are becoming a nuisance. Find out what's causing them.'

Zahedi and Saltzmann politely made way for Brigard, then headed out of the jail room.

Zak shook his head and berated himself for not visiting the Tech Room earlier. The two men could spend hours there. Without a Mind Patch, he would be handicapped while on the move, because to access the computer he would have to stop and use a wall.

However, this was also an opportunity for Zak to strike - to make them disappear. The two men had only one ES gun between them. He watched them walk slowly along the balcony of the reception hall and had an idea. Both men were clearly middle aged. Zahedi was short and skinny, while Saltzmann sported a substantial belly. He judged that they were not in top physical condition.

Zak had in mind a suitable prison of his own, a cabin. But he wanted to assess it first-hand. He left his spot, and climbed up onto the roof of the cargo hold. For a moment, he puzzled over the route.

There weren't any hatches in the cabin area, so no way in from directly overhead. He had to get there through the passenger zone.

Bearing in mind the now heavier gravity, he carefully leapt from roof to roof, then climbed down into the maintenance room at 21-I-G.

This was dangerously close to the Security office at 19-I-R, so he stopped to review the PSI map on a wall. Krushkov was not returning upstairs, but had gone into the restaurant. Zahedi and Saltzmann had made it downstairs and were on the blue corridor heading towards the Tech Room. The coast was relatively clear.

Zak crept outside into the green corridor, and made his way past the Red Planet Bar. He crossed the deserted reception hall along the walkway and entered the cabin area. Now out of direct sight, he felt safer. He turned right at the first opportunity, to take him into the blue quadrant, then left to head along the ship to slice 1, the posh section at the front. He entered cabin B-1.

Zak reckoned this single cabin had more floor space than his house on Earth. He stood inside the front door, in a lobby that led to three rooms. There was a lounge, master bedroom and second bedroom, all turned over by looting. Due to the cabin's size, the curvature of the ship was much more noticeable. The key feature, for Zak's purpose, was a connecting door between the two bedrooms.

Satisfied that this was a suitable place to imprison the two men, he devised a plan to lure them in. Provided he could stay one step ahead, and they weren't fitter than they looked, it should work.

He set the trap, placing the master bedroom door wide open, the second bedroom door closed, and the connecting door ajar. He logged in using the wall in the second bedroom, and created a command on the computer to do two simple things.

Zahedi and Saltzmann were now in the Tech Room, and doing as Krushkov had instructed. Zahedi emptied a box onto a desk and started picking through the contents. Saltzmann sat heavily in Geremi's chair, facing the wall behind the desk. He had activated a giant screen, and was examining various graphs. The two men were engrossed and not talking to each other.

Zak was ready to initiate his plan. `Comms off,' he instructed the ship's computer, deactivating their communication link with the others. `PSIs off,' he said, removing their PSIs, as he had done with his own. `Disable gun,' he cried, rendering Zahedi's gun useless. `You are now the disappeared,' he said, rubbing his hands with glee.

He left the cabin, and followed the stairs down to the Galaxy Mall, finding not surprisingly that most of the shops had been looted.

He crept up to the Tech Room, and opened the door. `Oh!' he said loudly, faking his reaction.

Zahedi jumped to his feet, pulled his gun and pointed it at Zak.

He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened.

Saltzmann shouted. `Boss! Boss! We've got someone on the loose. Boss?'

Zahedi looked at his gun and Saltzmann tapped his ear. `Get him!' shouted Zahedi.

Zak turned and ran. He headed back to the mall and towards the stairs. A quick check over his shoulder confirmed that the two men were after him. He bounded up the stairs, but sensed that he might be too quick for them, so he waited at the top until he could see them coming.

`I can see him,' shouted Zahedi, as he appeared in the dogleg of the stairs. `Don't hurt me!' pleaded Zak. He opened the door to cabin B-1 and rushed inside.

The two men followed him in. Zak was standing in the master bedroom, looking scared. `I haven't done anything,' he cried.

The two men stopped and looked at each other. Both were panting after their sprint. `Let's just get hold of him first,' said Saltzmann.

They cautiously stepped into the room, arms outstretched, ready to grab. Zak darted towards the connecting door, pulled it open and with a single movement rolled himself inside, pulling it shut behind him. `Lock!' he shouted, voice-activating his command.

The connecting door locked. At the same time, the door to the master bedroom slammed itself shut and also locked.

Via the CCTV, Zak could see Zahedi pulling at the connecting door, and Saltzmann trying the master bedroom door. If the doors were as well made as those in the toilets, the men would never get out.

Zak enabled communication between himself and the men. `Hope you like the room guys,' he said, `because it's yours for the rest of the journey. You can't complain, I've put you in the room with en suite.'

There was no reply. The two men were whispering to each other. `I know that you're planning to bring a bomb on board,' said Zak.

Zahedi and Saltzmann stopped talking, but still didn't respond.

He suspected that they were more in the know than Brigard and Ubogu. `I'll call back later,' said Zak. `You might want to be cooperative.' `Nice work kid,' said Saltzmann. `But I wouldn't like to be in your shoes when Krushkov catches up with you. He's not nice when he's angry.' `Yeah! I wouldn't like to be in yours either,' said Zak defiantly.

Zak was confident they would not escape, but to lower their chances further, he turned off the lights, plunging them into total darkness. Zahedi responded by shouting for help, which Zak could hear through the door. Concerned by this, he left the cabin and locked the front door also, for extra security.

To his relief, he could no longer hear Zahedi. They truly had been made to disappear. He punched the air in triumph.

The new situation: Five hijackers, four guns. His heart was pumping hard, and he was exhilarated by the success of his plan.

He quickly made his way down to the Tech Room. He activated a screen on the wall and requested the location of Mind Patches. The computer displayed a map of the room and a box on a low shelf-rack in the storage cupboard. The cupboard was a room in itself. He went over to the shelf, pulled the box out and opened it up. It contained more of the button shaped devices than he'd ever seen. He picked one out and attached it behind his ear.

On closing his eyes, a clear image appeared in his mind the CCTV of the restaurant.

Krushkov was returning from the kitchen with a plate of food. He pulled up a chair to the stand holding the food menus. The large screen was simply another display for the ship's computer, and as he sat down, he replaced the food menu with the PSI map. He jumped up with such a start that his plate flipped out of his hand, sending the food flying across the floor. `Damn!' he shouted, but as everyone in the restaurant turned to look at him, he suppressed his display of anger.

He stormed out of the main entrance and into the foyer. `Zahedi, Saltzmann! Where are you?' he roared.

There was no reply. `Damn it!'

Krushkov ran up to a plant pot containing a two metre high palm, and kicked it over. The pot's seal cracked, letting stones and sand pour out onto the floor.

He pulled out his blaster and started running. Zak quickly realised he was heading for the Tech Room, but in no time Krushkov was breathing heavily and had to stop to mop his brow.

`Damn gravity,' he muttered. `Still too high.'

After a deep breath he continued, striding with menacing purpose, blaster in hand.

Zak realised he needed to disappear. He opened his eyes and checked the Tech Room again. He couldn't go out the main door into the blue corridor, as Krushkov was coming in that direction. The only other door led to the Business Centre, so he quickly made his way through it. He went all the way to the far end, crouched down behind a desk and closed his eyes again. Using the Mind Patch, he watched as Krushkov struggled on and entered the Tech Room. `Zahedi!' shouted Krushkov. `Saltzmann!'

Krushkov held the blaster out ready to fire, and slowly made his way through the room towards the storage cupboard at the back. Zak was tempted to shut him in, but he knew that with a blaster, Krushkov would escape easily.

Krushkov went in, checked the room, and came out again. Zak could see that Krushkov was furious, but containing his anger. Zak smiled at the thought of the torment he was causing.

Krushkov spied the door to the Business Centre and approached it. Zak had not expected him to search this room, and now realised he had put himself in a precarious position. He used the CCTV cameras in the room to check that he couldn't be seen from the door.

Krushkov stepped into the room, and walked down the central aisle. Halfway along, he stopped. Zak could hear his heavy breathing by ear. He hoped Krushkov could not hear his own. If he continued searching, it could give him away. `I'm not playing a stupid game,' mumbled Krushkov, who then turned abruptly, and made for the door directly onto the blue corridor.

Once outside, he turned left and headed back.

Zak didn't know what he meant, but breathed a cautious sigh of relief, and continued to follow him on the CCTV. Zak sensed that Krushkov had not calmed down, but was simply waiting to explode.

He had to see what Krushkov was going to do next.

Zak found the Mind Patch useful, but there was always a time when watching on a big screen was more comfortable. He returned to the Tech Room, sat back in Geremi's chair and swivelled to face the screen that Saltzmann had activated. He replaced the graphs with his earlier configuration of CCTV windows and PSI map.

He was thrilled with himself. As he saw Krushkov stop to rest against a wall and draw breath, he felt that he was succeeding in his mission to lock them up and wear them down. His only irritation was that the hijackers were unlikely to relinquish any of their guns, a move which Zak thought would lead to him ending this ordeal swiftly. But, despite his inability to fight them, he was happy to prove he could outwit them.

Krushkov did not return to the restaurant. Instead, he continued on to reception, struggled up the stairs, and made his way to the jail.

To Zak's alarm, he marched straight past Brigard and up to the metal door. He pointed at Geremi.

Chapter 12: Reality Strikes

12 noon SST Monday 14 January 2085

`You. Come to the door,' shouted Krushkov.

Geremi questioned by pointing to himself. `Yes you. Come on.'

Geremi anxiously got up from his seat and did as he was told.

Brigard opened the door. Krushkov pulled Geremi out and shoved him towards the opposite wall, then activated a screen above the table.

He grabbed one of the chairs and placed it out in front, motioning Geremi to sit down. `Two of my men have gone missing. Find them!' he shouted.

Geremi logged in and displayed the PSI map. Zak could tell from the colours on the map that Geremi was only using Maximum Security Clearance, and wouldn't see the men. Geremi zoomed in, displayed the names associated with each dot, and cycled through different parts of the ship. `There's nobody outside of here and the restaurant,' he protested. `What happened to them? When did they go missing?' said Krushkov angrily. `What are their names?' asked Geremi, calmly.

Krushkov gave him the names, which Geremi used to search the system for a record of their position. A map of the Tech Room appeared, timed at approximately ten minutes in the past. It showed the dots representing Zahedi and Saltzmann move ever so slightly, then disappear. `They just vanished. No-one else was there,' said Geremi, acting puzzled.

Krushkov was pacing around, growing impatient. `You must be able find out what happened. You've got other systems. What about the CCTV?' he said.

Zak suddenly realised that his actions had left a trail all over the CCTV record. Before he could think of what to do, Geremi responded.

`There doesn't seem to be any recordings for that time,' he said nervously. `It appears that the whole security system has malfunctioned in that part of the ship. They must be around somewhere.' `Well done Geremi,' said Zak, with relief at his lie. `No!' screamed Krushkov, slamming his fist on the table.

Krushkov shouted. Not to anyone in particular, but to anyone who might be listening. `Whoever is out there. I know that two of my men have gone missing, and I'll not stand for that. Do you hear?'

His eyes were mad with desperation. `Whoever is out there, meddling with the system, show yourself,' he roared. `Show yourself right now!'

Zak's heart sank as he realised Krushkov had not been fooled.

Geremi appeared to cower in his seat, and Zak feared that Krushkov's next punch or kick might be aimed at him.

Zak wanted to intervene, but Geremi had warned him not to reveal himself. Even now, Zak concluded, it would be better to remain hidden. `Come on. I know you're out there,' Krushkov demanded.

He pulled out the blaster, and pointed it at Geremi's head. Geremi stood up and backed away in terror, but soon found himself against a wall. `Where are my men?' roared Krushkov wildly.

Zak froze. Surely he was bluffing? Krushkov pulled the trigger. In time with the blast, Geremi's head slammed back against the wall. From his forehead came a puff of dark smoke, and he slid to the ground.

The entire crew in the jail stood up and gasped with horror.

Brigard's jaw dropped in astonishment. Krushkov bowed his head, gun still held out, and took a deep breath, as if his frustration had found a release. Zak's attention was drawn to the PSI map. Geremi's dot flashed twice then disappeared.

Zak could not believe what he had just seen. He had totally misjudged the effect of his actions, and Geremi had been executed to pay for his mistake. He was so stunned, it was like he had been hit by an electric bolt himself.

As he stared at the screen, the muscles around his eyes tensed painfully. His vision became dark and all colours faded. He started breathing rapidly as a cramp grew in his stomach, leading him to lean forward on Geremi's chair and fall onto the floor. He was still conscious, but he turned and lay face down, digging his nails into the carpet.

The amplified voice of Krushkov sounded over the ship's loudspeaker system. `Attention,' he said calmly. `I've had to kill another member of the crew. Due… to lack of co-operation. Let me warn you again, I will not stand for disruption. I will not hesitate to kill if there is any more trouble.'

Krushkov's easy manner acted like another blow to Zak, and he allowed the shock to take over his mind. He lay still, nose and cheeks pressed down on the carpet and eyes closed. But before long, a thought forced its way into his consciousness, that he should check what was happening. Without moving, he used the Mind Patch to check the PSI map. Krushkov had entered the Security Office.

He had a strong urge not to look upon Krushkov's face again, but he reluctantly accessed CCTV of the office. To his alarm, Krushkov was also navigating the Security system, evidently making his own attempt to find out what had happened.

Zak snapped out of his stupor, realising he couldn't allow himself to be discovered. He had to set the system as Geremi had described.

Using his privileges under Emergency Security Clearance, he denied access to any CCTV footage from the blue quadrant at the front of the ship.

Krushkov tried to select the footage, and as the computer gave him an error message, he banged the nearest desk in frustration. He sank back into his chair and sighed.

Zak stared at Krushkov with revulsion. The man appeared to have no emotional reaction from carrying out such a terrible deed. He had probably already forgotten about it. Zak doubted whether he had the stomach to stand up to such a man.

Zak checked the jail, to find Brigard straightening Geremi's body, then to his surprise, placing a sheet over him. He decided to make contact with Herbet. `Mr. Herbet,' he said flatly. `Zak,' whispered Herbet. `What a relief. I wondered what had happened to you.' `I'm not doing this any more,' said Zak, on the verge of tears. `It's my fault Geremi's dead, I'm a total idiot. I'm going back to the restaurant.' `Now Zak, you mustn't blame yourself,' said Herbet. `We're all upset about Geremi, but if we don't stop these people, we'll all be dead.' `I don't know what I can do,' said Zak. `If anything else happens to them, Krushkov will go crazy.' `What did you do? He said two men were lost?' asked Herbet. `I locked them up. So they are down to five,' said Zak. `That's great work,' said Herbet. `Zak, I believe you can help us get this ship back. How long have we got? Still some fifteen hours. If you keep chipping away at them, they'll fall apart. When the time is right, we'll strike.'

Herbet's voice was full of confidence, which Zak found inappropriate. `But what will Krushkov do next time?' he asked. `Don't be influenced by that,' said Herbet. `Don't allow yourself to be blackmailed. If Krushkov drags me out next time, you must do the same thing.'

Zak sighed in despair, assuming Herbet couldn't possibly mean that. `I'll think about it,' he said. `Zak!' said Herbet urgently, raising his voice dangerously loud. `Remember, only you can save our lives.'

Zak checked the PSI map, and saw that it would be safe to return the way he came. It took him just two minutes to reach the maintenance zone. He made his way down to the outer shell and crawled back to the air circulator.

He crept back under the duvet, and poked his head out. He found Mum, Dad and Skye looking at him with relief. `We thought something terrible had happened,' said Mum. `Their leader went berserk.' `Something terrible did happen,' said Zak.

He didn't want to say any more, so he withdrew his head back under the cover and curled up, gripping the duvet tight.

*

3pm SST Monday 14 January 2085 Zak remained there, paralysed in his cocoon. Some three hours had passed since he returned to the restaurant, and he hadn't used the Mind Patch to check what was happening. As time ticked by, rather than come to terms with what had happened, he felt progressively worse. The one person on board who had trusted him was now dead because of his misjudgement. All his other worries retreated to the back of his mind.

Herbet had told him he must continue, and he was aware that time was running out. But every time he reached the conclusion that he ought to act, his thoughts returned to the moment of Krushkov's arrival in the jail, and he replayed the events over again. It was sufficient to recall it from memory, he didn't need the video.

He could well have repeated this process for ever, had Krushkov not burst into the restaurant by kicking the front door open, snapping everyone out of whatever they were doing. `Well,' Krushkov announced with glee. `We have received a message from our associates that we have a very important person on board. The media are so helpful in times of crisis aren't they.'

Zak emerged from his duvet and sat up.

Krushkov whispered to Fang, who then walked over to where Caviana was situated, and beckoned to her father. He accepted his fate without question, and stood up. `No!' shouted Caviana, grabbing his jacket. `Caviana you must stay here. I will deal with this,' said her father, calmly.

Fang brought him before Krushkov. `So, Earth's new Ambassador to Mars,' said Krushkov smugly. `You could come in very useful.' `If you are simply here to commit a robbery, why is that?' asked Caviana's father. `Insurance,' snarled Krushkov. He whispered to Fang again, who nodded.

Fang waved his ES gun, motioning to Caviana's father to leave through the front door. Then, pointing the gun at his back, followed him out.

Krushkov raised his voice so everyone could hear. `He'll be unharmed provided we get away safely,' he said, then turned and walked out himself.

Zak glanced over at Caviana, now alone. Her horrified face triggered in him a return of the stomach cramp. He'd never even met the man, but somehow he felt that if anything did happen to her father, he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

The incident caused a ripple of conversation to flow around the restaurant. Could this grow loud enough to give the crowd a sense of rebellion? There were so few hijackers, with so few guns, yet nobody could bring themselves to try and overpower them.

His family had saved him some lunch. A chunk of cheese and an apple. His distress had obscured his hunger. He ate them, then stood up to find somewhere to dump the apple core.

As he turned around, he caught sight of a familiar face. It was Ragboy, coming towards him, backed by his two brothers. They strode up and confronted Zak. `So it's your fault we're in this mess,' said Ragboy. His voice was quiet, but aggressive.

`Why's that then?' said Zak. He gave his voice some aggression of his own, but inside he was churning up. `You caused Security to get everyone's PSI. That made it easy for the hijackers to take over.'

Zak was amazed to hear Ragboy believing his own lie. `Actually, if it hadn't been for me,' he said, `they would have taken over much more easily, and not lost any men.' `Yeah. How's that?' said Ragboy. `Because I alerted Security before the hijackers were ready.' `Strange that,' said Ragboy. `You told me Herbet wouldn't listen to you.'

Zak wondered where this was leading. He didn't want to inadvertently reveal anything, so didn't reply. `What's under the bench Zakko?' said Ragboy. `A fan?'

Zak gulped. The last thing he wanted was Ragboy interfering with his escape route. `No. I already checked, it's just a bench,' he said. But he feared that the nerves in his voice betrayed he was lying. `Can I have a look then?' said Ragboy, staring Zak intensely in the eyes. `No. Get lost,' said Zak.

The boys moved forward aggressively. Zak was struck by a fear greater than at any point so far on the journey. Not a fear of being attacked, but that in whatever melee ensued, his escape route would be discovered.

It was Dad who came to the rescue. `Now you boys leave my son alone,' he said firmly, getting to his feet. `There's nothing under there. If you come round here again I'll call one of the guards. They won't look kindly on any troublemakers.'

This intervention seemed to deter the boys. Zak noticed Romero staring at them, and that Ragboy had spotted this as well. The boys started to withdraw. `We'll be watching you, to see if you disappear,' muttered Ragboy. `Anyway, looks like your girlfriend's back.'

Zak turned round to face his family and to his alarm saw Caviana joining them. She had brought her bedding and was settling down beside Skye next to the bench. Caviana looked at him, but instead of the usual smile he had received from her, she had an expression of anguish, and tears running down her face. Zak looked away, embarrassed, then felt even worse for doing so.

He would have to find out what was happening to her father, and protect him. He had a terrible thought, that Ragboy might somehow sneak out and mess things up. Or worse, be the one to save the day.

Zak was uncomfortable. It was hot in the restaurant, and even the remaining guards had dispensed with their jackets. The lights were stiflingly bright. He was sure they had been turned up deliberately by the guards to ensure no shadows obscured their view. The ebb and flow of conversation noise and the proximity of so many people was getting to him. He couldn't bear it any longer, so he decided to make an exit.

He hid himself back under the duvet to prepare. Slowly and carefully, he sneaked out in the usual manner. Once the fan had closed above him, he stopped to take a deep stress-relieving breath.

There, alone in the ambient light, it was cool and calm. His composure began to recover.

With his mind beginning to clear, he made his way to his hiding place at 32-I-B. He activated his configuration of windows, and checked the PSI map. Fang was heading back towards the restaurant.

Caviana's father had been taken to the cargo hold, not far below where he now sat.

Zak viewed the kennels. Caviana's father had been locked in with Rocky. He hadn't been restrained in any other way, and was trying to release himself. But the holes of the cage were too small for his fingers to reach through and unlock it. He had no chance of escape.

Zak speculated that the hijackers' ship would dock in the cargo hold.

It meant they had a hostage to hand.

Zak switched to a view of the restaurant. Once again, he zoomed in on Caviana. This time she was sobbing in the arms of Skye. He presumed that this was due to her father being taken away, and nothing to do with him. But he found it uncomfortable looking at her that way.

Still puzzled by the Ragboy incident in the Red Planet Bar, he accessed his personal video record of that time and played it back.

None the wiser, he replayed it a few times. At the time, he was facing Ragboy while Caviana was behind him, so he could not see her on the video. So instead, he accessed the CCTV recording from the Red Planet Bar. Now, he could get a good view from the cameras embedded in the walls.

He found an angle that showed all three of them - Ragboy in the foreground, Caviana at the back. Ragboy shouted that she was his girlfriend, and he protested that was not the case. It was then that her head dropped and she got up from the table. He couldn't understand that reaction at all, as they were effectively having their first proper conversation. What did she expect him to say? He panned the view round to the opposite side of the room, so he could see her face as she rushed out. He watched the clip over and over again. As she got up from the table she looked simply puzzled, but by the time she reached the door, tears had erupted.

It made no sense to Zak whatsoever.

For future reference, he copied the CCTV session. Then, on screen, he replaced it with his other video of her, in which she looked merely sad, setting it to repeat. As he watched it, the ship seemed to wobble, but he knew that it was simply the response of his brain to the image of Caviana's face. Every time he saw her, it put his head into a spin.

A feeling grew within him that he must confront the situation. He didn't want to die. Herbet had said that the fate of everyone rested in his hands, so he couldn't let everyone else die either. On this spaceship, halfway between Earth and Mars, they could not be more isolated. There was only one person within millions of miles who could help and that was him.

Would Caviana be impressed if he got hold of a gun and killed all the hijackers? In V-Commando, he was used to violence and death, and revelled in victory against the odds. How different it was in real life.

His friend was dead. He had to keep that thought at bay - it made him so angry, but also scared, that another terrible thing might happen if he mishandled things. He doubted himself, but was that just fear? After all, both Geremi and Herbet had affirmed their belief in him.

Perhaps more importantly, he couldn't bear the thought of Ragboy becoming the hero. So the decision was made - he would continue the fight.

He did not know whether he could succeed without a triggering a bloodbath, but he would certainly try.

Chapter 13: Flushed Out

4pm SST Monday 14 January 2085

Before delivering the news to Herbet, Zak checked the jail.

Brigard was the only hijacker on duty, sitting at the table. Zak had been concerned that since Brigard was not engaged in conversation, he would be more alert to what was happening behind the bars. But Brigard was smiling, laughing, and letting out the occasional snort, totally engrossed in some video he was watching on his wristband.

Zak called Herbet. `I've decided to carry on,' he said.

Herbet let out a big sigh. `It took you long enough to decide, but it's great to have you back.' `They've discovered the Ambassador, and taken him to the cargo hold.' `Hmm. They might take him with them, and demand a ransom,' said Herbet. `Have you thought about what to try next?' `I'd thought I'd watch them for a bit. See what their current routine is. I'll try and get some information out of the guys I locked up.' `We've only got about eleven hours left now. But one advantage for us is that these guys have been up all of last night, so they're going to be very tired.' `Okay. I'll get back to you with what I find,' said Zak.

He opened a CCTV view on cabin B-1. It was time to check on Zahedi and Saltzmann.

The lights were off, but first he would listen in. `There's not a great choice for school trips,' said Zahedi. `They won't take seven year olds outside the city.' `I don't blame them,' said Saltzmann. `The last thing you want is a kid falling into a crater.'

Zak turned the lights on. The two men were lying on the bare double bed, a respectable distance apart. They stopped talking immediately.

`Hello,' said Zak seriously.

The men didn't say anything. `You should know that you're going to be stuck here,' said Zak. `Krushkov isn't even looking for you. So if you don't want to die, you'd better help me.' `Yeah,' said Zahedi without enthusiasm. `We'll help you.' `What's the plan?' demanded Zak.

The two men looked at each other. Saltzmann spoke. `At 3am tomorrow morning a small ship will dock with the Colossus. It will bring a powerful bomb, which will be transferred on board. Our team will leave on the ship. Shortly afterwards, the bomb will detonate, destroying the Colossus.'

Zak believed them. `How can we stop it?' he asked. `The best option is to prevent the ship from docking,' said Zahedi. `No ship, no bomb. But to achieve that you'll have to deal with Krushkov.' `Okay,' said Zak. `What did he do when he found out we were missing?' asked Zahedi.

Zak wondered whether to tell them. His anger at Geremi's death resurfaced. He wanted to know what they would say. `He killed a friend of mine,' he growled. `Krushkov is ruthless,' warned Zahedi, `and the rest of us are no angels. You're playing a dangerous game by challenging us. Still, better to fight than submit to your own death.' `If the ship docks, what then?' asked Zak. `We weren't given the exact details,' said Saltzmann, `but I do know one thing that may help. Krushkov was concerned that if we simply placed the bomb in the cargo hold, then as soon as we left, the crew would jettison it. So we shipped a small container with us. The bomb is in an identical container, and the two will be swapped. He figured that when the crew reach the cargo hold, they would find nothing out of order, and accept it was simply a robbery.' `That is useful to know,' said Zak.

Saltzmann continued.

`We don't know which container it is. It may have been shipped independently. But if you can find out, you'll be able to jettison it once our ship leaves. You'll only have a few minutes to do it. It's tight, but I can't think of any other solution.' `Okay. Thanks,' said Zak sombrely. Knowing the details made the threat seem more terrifyingly real.

He shut off communication with the men and switched off the cabin lights. A quick search of the ship's computer brought up the cargo records, which gave details of the container shipments.

Conveniently, names and cabin numbers were provided where appropriate. He spotted his family name, but could find no entries for any of the hijackers. If the ship docked, he would have to observe the swap.

He sat back against the wall and restored his configuration of CCTV windows and PSI map, with the intention of observing the hijackers' new routine. With Brigard at the jail; Krushkov in the Security office; Romero, Fang and Ubogu guarding the restaurant; they had little room for manoeuvre. And so once again, their routine consisted of staying put. Zak spent the time trying to think of ways to distract them, but he found himself distracted by what had happened to Geremi and the prospect of everyone dying if he failed.

After an hour of waiting, it was Fang who broke the stalemate once again. He gave Ubogu his gun, but this time went into the kitchen.

Zak's view of Fang switched to the kitchen. The chef had not yet been asked to prepare dinner, so Fang had the place to himself. He casually strolled around, opening fridges and cupboards, picking at blocks of cheese, taking the odd biscuit or handful of nuts. A thick bandage covered the knuckles of his right hand, but it didn't stop him clumsily grabbing at food. He came to a large fridge at the far end, and his reaction on opening it indicated he had found what he was looking for. He pulled out a tub and brought it over to a worktop.

Fang dipped a hand into the tub, and picked up a cooked chicken wing. He took the choice bite out of it, then threw the remainder over his shoulder. As he munched, he nodded his head in approval. Zak watched in amazement, as Fang worked his way through the entire tub in the same manner. `Greedy pig!' he exclaimed.

Fang let out a burp and patted his tummy. He looked at his fingers, covered in grease, and walked over to the sink. He put his hands under the hot tap. The water came on automatically. `Aaaaaahhhhhhh,' he screamed, as the water gushed out of the tap. As steam began to billow from the sink, Zak realised that the water was boiling hot.

Fang staggered back and fell on the floor. He continued to scream as he looked at his hands. `Brilliant!' exclaimed Zak. `Why didn't I think of that.'

A chill pierced him. Who did think of it? Romero burst through the door of the kitchen. `What is it?' he asked.

Fang held his shaking hands out in front of him. They were bright red, and the bandage was steaming. `Boss! We've had another incident,' said Romero. `Fang's been scalded. And if you ask me, he's out of action.' `Damn!' shouted Krushkov, through gritted teeth. He lowered his head, as if to contemplate.

Fang struggled to his feet, trying not to let his hands touch the floor.

After a few moments, Krushkov lifted his head up. `We'll search the ship,' he declared. `We've got ten hours to go.

We can't risk any more disruption, and if there is someone out there, we've got to stop them before Sato arrives. If we're lucky, we may turn up Zahedi and Saltzmann.' `Are you sure?' said Romero. `We're down to the bare bones here.' `You and Ubogu can go. I'll take restaurant duty,' said Krushkov. `If I have a problem I'll recall you straight away.'

This decision concerned Zak. He contacted Herbet again.

`Hey!' he said. `Fang just got scalded by boiling water in the kitchen. But I didn't do it.'

Herbet took a second to react, then let out a quiet chuckle. `No,' he said. `That's probably just a plumbing malfunction.' `A malfunction?' said Zak astonished. `Things go wrong quite frequently, and if there's no-one to fix them, the problems get progressively worse,' he said. `Well maybe you don't need me. We could just rely on the ship falling apart,' retorted Zak. `Now don't get cheeky Zak.'

Zak realised there was no point in barracking Herbet over the matter. `Krushkov has just decided to do a full search of the ship, which means they could find the two men, and me.' `You'd better be on your guard then,' said Herbet. `You can still use the computer system to foil them, but remember to keep it subtle.

They still don't know you're there, so don't give it away.'

Zak returned to his surveillance. Krushkov had already arrived downstairs. He was heading towards the restaurant, talking as he went. `This is a risky operation. Remember, the other two just disappeared,' he said. `But we're going to take precautions to avoid that happening again. I will follow you on the CCTV and PSI map, and we'll keep in constant communication. You can follow the PSI map on your wristband. If contact should be lost, or the PSI signal disappears, return immediately, regardless of what you have found.

Romero, even though you've got your blaster, don't get shut in anywhere. Safety first, okay. If we lose you two, it's all over for us.'

Zak sensed they were taking a gamble, and that this could be his opportunity to finish them off.

Krushkov continued his instructions. `I'll scan an area first, then send you in. That should flush anyone out. We'll start by sealing the maintenance zone.'

Krushkov entered the restaurant and said no more. He simply nodded at Romero and Ubogu to get going, then pulled up a chair to the menu-stand screen and sat down.

As soon as the restaurant door closed behind the two men, they broke into a run. Zak knew they would be heading for the maintenance zone, and that he had to be ready to move.

He closed his eyes in order to set up the Mind Patch. To keep tabs on the search, he divided the view into three parts, one showing Krushkov at his screen, the other two following Romero and Ubogu as they moved around the ship.

Krushkov had already activated the CCTV for the upper maintenance zone, and was stepping through the cameras covering each and every passageway. At first, this resulted in slow progress. So to speed up the search, he made the camera switch automatically after only a split second. Now, as the images flashed in front of his eyes, he swept along the ship like a wave.

Krushkov's view progressed so rapidly that Zak suddenly feared for what he was going to do next. There was only one way out that did not involve climbing onto the roof of the cargo hold - a ladder down to the lower maintenance zone. But that was two quadrants away.

There was no choice. He sprinted for it.

On Krushkov's screen, the slice number ticked up, 23, 24, 25…

As Zak hurtled along the direction of the curve, the hole in the floor seemed to swing down towards him. He skidded to stop himself, and dropped down, grabbing onto the ladder. He had to get out of sight, so jumped away from the ladder as soon as he was low enough, keeping in mind the high gravity.

With his closed eye, Zak saw the hole flash into view on Krushkov's screen with no trace of him. He had made it. `We're here,' said Romero, as he and Ubogu emerged from the hatch at 21-I-G. `Good,' said Krushkov. `Be quick but thorough.'

Once again, the geometry of the ship amazed Zak. The passageway between the lower floor of the cargo hold and the bare metal wall was a one metre wide hamster wheel. The ladder from the hole in the ceiling also went down through the floor to the outer shell.

That was now his only way out.

He closed his eyes to check the hijackers' progress. Romero and Ubogu tackled opposite quadrants, running across the roofs and double-checking the passageways. Halfway along, Ubogu jumped up a ladder to check the core. Krushkov was now opening several CCTV views at once on his screen, one of which Zak could tell was the lower maintenance zone.

Zak had survived the initial sweep, but recognised that there was only one way he could avoid being found.

He called Herbet. `I'm going back to the restaurant,' he said quietly, `their search is too intense.' `Okay Zak. Better lay low till they've finished,' said Herbet.

Zak dropped down the ladder again to the outer shell, in order to make the long crawl back to the restaurant. Just as he pulled his legs away from the hole, he noticed Romero approach the ladder with interest from the upper floor.

Zak needed to quicken the pace. He turned to head towards the front of the ship. But to his horror, the way was blocked. Just a few metres in front of him was a wall. If it went all the way round he was trapped. He scrambled left to follow the wall.

Romero peered down from the top of the ladder. `There's a hole right at the back here boss,' he said. `It leads down to a narrow passageway.' `I didn't notice that,' said Krushkov. `Go down and take a look.'

Heavy clunking indicated that Romero was already on his way.

Zak gave possibly his biggest sigh of relief yet, as the end of the wall came into view. He turned the corner, to be greeted by the welcome sight of ceiling and floor converging in the distance some three hundred metres away. His return was clear, whereas the wall appeared to enclose a rectangular area - the docking bay!

Overcoming that scare gave him a burst of energy, and he started his crawl home with determination. He headed diagonally to the right at first, to get the other side of the docking bay. If Romero came down to this part of the ship, he would be out of sight.

He kept his eyes closed as he crawled, using the Mind Patch to follow the search.

`Ubogu, go down to the lower maintenance zone,' said Krushkov. `There's two sections. Start with the one at the front.'

Zak could sense them closing in. His greatest fear was being caught by Krushkov on CCTV. He could shut down the entire system before being identified. But that would surely lead to more reprisals.

Romero had run right around the mini hamster wheel and arrived back at the ladder. `What's down there boss?' he said, pointing at the hole in the floor. `I don't know. Outer space?' ventured Krushkov. `Take a quick look. I'll see if I can get a CCTV view down there.'

Zak opened his eyes and saw that he still hadn't reached halfway.

He was trying to crawl almost three hundred metres, a long way on hands and knees, while also keeping low to avoid bashing his head on protruding pipes. He closed his eyes again and worked out a technique to move even faster.

Ubogu had descended a ladder. After a quick look round he spotted another hole in the floor.

Zak's heart was racing. What a time for them to discover the outer shell. `I'll take a look as well,' said Ubogu.

Via the CCTV, Zak saw Ubogu ease himself down into the hole.

He opened his eyes and saw the dim ray of light coming from the restaurant air circulator some distance ahead. `Wow,' said Ubogu. `This is a weird place.'

Zak ploughed on. Ubogu had descended into a different quadrant and wouldn't see him just yet. `I've just been all the way round,' said Romero. `I didn't see anyone, but there was a wall in front of some of it. I'll head along the ship, and get out further down.' `I can see along the whole length of the ship,' said Ubogu, `but not very far around it. I guess I'd better work my way round.'

Due to the featureless background, and his own panic, Zak lost track of which direction the men were crawling. His mind became a blur as time passed. He could only imagine Ubogu had gone the long way round.

Zak was almost there now, exhausted and out of breath, but he had to keep going. Any of the three could catch sight of him. `I've finally got a visual on it,' said Krushkov. `Damn system is so unintuitive.'

Zak reached the air circulator. He stood up underneath it and pushed the fan up, then pulled himself up through the gap. `I just saw a flicker of light from somewhere,' said Ubogu.

Zak dragged himself forward and pulled his legs through. He lowered the fan slowly and closed his eyes. Ubogu had reached a point where he could see the floor underneath the fan. `There it was again,' he said. `There's a faint light coming through.'

Zak feared attracting attention if he emerged too quickly.

Krushkov was not directly facing the bench, and was intently scanning the PSI map. So Zak very carefully guided himself under the blanket and duvet. Krushkov remained glued to the screen.

Ubogu was now right under the air circulator. `Strange,' he said, `It's a fan. Oh wait a minute there's a handle on it.'

Ubogu pushed it open, then stuck his head through the gap. There was no camera under the bench for Zak to see the expression on his face, but Ubogu quickly lowered himself back down. `Boss, where am I?' he whispered urgently. `Right in the middle of the restaurant,' said Krushkov expectantly. `Well I've found a passage through to it,' said Ubogu.

Krushkov looked round at the bench. His eyes widened. `I can see it,' he said quietly.

He turned back to the screen. `Let me do this carefully,' he said. `There is a family sitting there.

They've covered the gap under the bench with a blanket.'

Zak lay there, eyes closed. He knew that Krushkov could see him.

Ubogu was directly below him. `What are we going to do?' said Ubogu. `If we weren't so short of men,' said Krushkov, `I'd put someone on permanent guard.'

`You could move the family away,' said Ubogu. `That will only draw attention to it,' said Krushkov. `They appear harmless enough. Two adults, two girls, and I can see another head.'

Krushkov paused, staring at the top of Zak's head poking out of the duvet. `Hmm. Let me try something,' he said.

Zak saw Krushkov navigate the maintenance pages, but he wasn't zoomed in close enough to read the text. `There,' said Krushkov. `Should anybody try to get out, we'll know about it.' `Other than that, I think we're all clear down here boss,' said Ubogu. `Good work,' said Krushkov. `Thanks. I'm getting out of here, or I'll get nightmares about this place.'

As Ubogu crawled away from the air circulator and made his way round to another hole, Zak was able to relax. `All clear on the lower floor,' said Romero, `If that's the maintenance zone done, shall we set alarms on the doors and leave it?' `Yes,' said Krushkov. `Make your way to the cargo hold. We're going to sweep the passenger zone from back to front.'

Zak used the Mind Patch to access the maintenance pages on the ship's computer, to find out what Krushkov had done. It did not take him long. Krushkov had simply set an alarm on the air circulator so that if it was opened he would be notified.

Zak deactivated the alarm. He would do the same to any alarms they set around the maintenance zone.

His mood of triumph returned, having successfully negotiated the crisis. But he reminded himself that this time, he must not get carried away.

Now that he was no longer on the back foot, he would try to entrap Romero and Ubogu. He curled up under the duvet into a comfortable position, and turned his full attention to the continuing search.

Unfortunately for Zak, it appeared that the hijackers had learnt their lesson. He followed them on the CCTV as they worked their way through the cargo hold, Phobos nightclub, Heaven's Spa, and the Red Planet Bar. Then downstairs as they swept through the Hideaway, Business Centre, Tech Room and Galaxy Mall. Not once did they provide an opportunity for Zak to act. Romero and Ubogu kept in constant communication with Krushkov as instructed. Where Zak had simulated the security malfunction, they very carefully remained in view of each other. An hour and a half later they had made their way to the top of the stairs in the reception hall, with the intention of searching the cabin area.

Now Zak's concern was the potential discovery of Zahedi and Saltzmann. Before the men entered, he locked all the cabin doors and turned off all the lights.

Krushkov tried to reverse this but his commands had no effect.

He appeared to seethe, but did not lose his temper.

Romero and Ubogu entered the darkness of the cabin area.

Romero activated a pen-sized torch.

They started at cabin G-46. Ubogu tested the door, but despite indicating otherwise, it was locked. `Stand back,' said Romero.

He fired his blaster at the door handle. The locking mechanism disintegrated and the door flew open. `There's no way this door will lock behind us,' said Ubogu.

The cabins at this end were identical to Zak's own. Ubogu cautiously entered the room and used his own torch. The thin but powerful beam enabled him to check under the beds, in the wardrobe and around the bathroom. `Clear,' he said.

They repeated the procedure on cabin G-45. `Boss, this is going to take ages,' said Romero. `We've got time,' said Krushkov.

Zak feared that it was only a matter of time before they would reach cabin B-1. He had to thwart them somehow. As they continued, he set up a command enabling him to apply the full disappearing act on the two men disable communications, remove their PSIs, and deactivate the CCTV.

As soon as they stepped into slice 13, he triggered his command. `Romero,' said Krushkov, `your PSI's gone.'

Zak could hear a note of panic in Krushkov's voice. Romero and Ubogu withdrew. They had noticed the PSIs disappear on their wristbands, and complied with the orders to return. As they stepped back into slice 14, Zak reversed his command, bringing them back. `Romero!' said Krushkov again. `I'm here,' said Romero. `There's a problem with the security system around here.' `Try again,' ordered Krushkov.

The two men stepped into slice 13, and Zak re-triggered his command. Immediately aware that they had become invisible again, the men returned. As they did so, Zak reversed his command again. `What are you getting on the CCTV?' asked Romero. `As soon as you cross that line, the image blanks out,' said Krushkov. `It's definitely the area then,' said Romero. `Seems to be some sort of blind spot. If we carry on, we're going to be undetectable.' `It's a big risk sending you in,' said Krushkov. `On the other hand, if there is someone out there meddling, it means we've got them cornered.' `What's it to be then?' asked Romero.

Zak felt a hand on his shoulder shaking him gently. He opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder. It was Caviana. `Hello Zak,' she said. `Oh, hello,' said Zak, totally puzzled.

She managed an uncomfortable smile at him. `I would like to talk to you,' she said. `Oh,' said Zak, `That's great. But I'm a bit busy at the moment,' he said apologetically. `Busy? What are you doing?'

Zak realised that with him curled up in his duvet and supposedly stripped of computer equipment, she had cause to wonder what he was doing. `Do you know I'm able to leave the restaurant,' he said. `I have a Mind Patch and I'm watching the hijackers.'

Caviana stared at him with a bewildered look. `I'll talk to you later,' said Zak.

He closed his eyes again and hoped that she didn't take that as a complete snub.

To his surprise, he found Romero and Ubogu on their way back to the restaurant.

Curious, he accessed the CCTV history for the last thirty seconds to see what had happened. `What's it to be then?' asked Romero.

Krushkov sat back in his seat and let out a deep sigh. `We'll have to leave it,' he said. `My stress levels are high enough as it is without having you two off the radar for an hour. And you're at greater risk of an ambush in the cabin area.'

Romero and Ubogu nodded and immediately turned back. Zak ended playback, and returned to current events.

Krushkov spoke again, this time apparently addressing his remaining team. `Wake up and listen up. In a few hours, our ship will dock. I don't care if you're tired - when we leave you can sleep for a week.

Until then, you must concentrate. There could be someone on the loose acting against us, so be aware of that when you move around the ship.'

Zak heard Romero and Ubogu enter the restaurant. Both stopped and stared at the bench. Krushkov approached the head chef and ordered him to make dinner for everyone. Zak hoped the chef would take care when washing his hands.

With four hijackers now in the restaurant, and their attention drawn to where he was lying, Zak felt a lot more wary about sneaking outside. He decided to stay put for a while.

*

10pm SST Monday 14 January 2085 Zak poked his head out from under the duvet to assess the mood in the restaurant. Despite the hum of machinery, it seemed quiet, as everybody was in their place and no conversation could be heard.

Mum and Dad were lying down with their eyes closed, although Zak suspected they were not asleep. Skye and Caviana lay on their backs.

Zak had no intention of going to sleep. At 2am, before the hijackers' ship docked, he would leave the restaurant for the last time.

The original plan had been to take back control of the Colossus before their ship arrived. But given their caution, Zak couldn't see how to achieve this.

He had quietly discussed this with Herbet. They had decided that they would try and prevent the ship docking. If that failed, they would have to throw out the bomb. Exactly how this would pan out would depend on the hijackers' course of action.

Zak had a concern that once he had gone, Ragboy might try to sneak up and follow him out. While that was a potential disaster, what would definitely blow the whole gig was if his portly brothers tried to join him. He couldn't imagine either of them squeezing through without a struggle.

He wanted to talk to Caviana before making his final exit, and hoped that she was still willing to talk to him. He pulled back his duvet, and crawled past Skye so he could talk to her. Skye looked at him suspiciously. Caviana sat up. `Hello Zak,' she whispered, but without a smile. `Sorry about earlier, but I really was busy,' he said. `Can we talk now?' `Yes. I am ready,' she said, managing a smile. `I wanted to let you know that I would still like us to be friends.' `I don't understand why you walked out,' said Zak, neglecting to mention that he had watched the incident several times in an effort to.

Caviana briefly looked away, and the smile disappeared again. `I was uncomfortable in the situation,' she said. `But I thought you'd been trained to handle situations like that,' he said, hoping that didn't sound too critical.

`Oh, I have partaken in many hours of training, Zak. But there was something about that situation which I had never previously encountered. It became complex, and I was not sure what to do or say.' `You don't have to run away,' he said. `I'm uncomfortable in nearly every social situation.' `You are right,' she acknowledged. `How will I learn if I run away?' `Have you had that kind of abuse before?' he asked. `Yes. In fact that was not the first time those boys have harassed me. They did so the very first time I spoke to them.' `So why was it a problem this time?' he asked.

Caviana looked anywhere but at Zak under his questioning. `I was disappointed with your response to the abuse,' she said. `But do not take that personally, that is just my opinion.'

Zak sat back and tried to get his head around what she was telling him. He would prefer her to spell out the problem exactly. In the end, he thought of something to say that might help. `Caviana, I'm sorry. I am proud to be your friend,' he said.

Caviana's face broke into a genuine smile, straight at Zak. `Thank you,' she said.

Zak sensed that had repaired the damage. He also wanted to offer reassurance about her father. `I have something else to tell you,' he said. `Yes,' said Caviana, expectantly. `Your father has not been harmed,' he said. `And I'm going to rescue him.'

Caviana's face dropped. The fear returned on mentioning her father. `Please do not do anything foolish,' she said.

Skye sat up. She had obviously heard the entire conversation. `Zak,' she said. `You don't need to prove anything. Please don't risk it.'

Zak looked at them seriously. He couldn't tell them what was really going to happen if he did nothing.

`I'll be careful,' he said. `But I need you to do one favour for me.' `What's that?' said Skye, nervously. `When I go out, just make sure Ragboy and his dumb brothers don't follow me under the bench.'

Chapter 14: Backup

2am SST Tuesday 15 January 2085

Zak was ready to slip out and prepare for the arrival of the hijackers' ship. In the restaurant under the full glare of lights, every movement was visible, so he had to be careful to make as little as possible. Krushkov remained alert, staring at his screen. But Fang, Ubogu and even Romero swayed and nodded their heads as they struggled to stay awake and stand guard.

Zak eased himself under the blanket and approached the air circulator. Having turned off the alarm, it would be safe to go through, but he double-checked to be certain. He pulled open the fan, then closed his eyes to check if Krushkov had received a warning, but his face did not flicker.

Zak dropped through the hole. His destination was 32-I-B, so he took his usual quick route. On reaching it, he activated the screen. `Herbet, I'm now in position,' he said.

Herbet had drifted off, but roused himself quickly. `Well done,' he said. `Now Krushkov will probably ask me to stop the Colossus from spinning, so their ship can dock. Don't be afraid to meddle with the settings to push him to the limit. We're on a knife edge though. Any blow to them could scupper their plans completely, but Krushkov will be even more volatile.' `Okay,' said Zak.

If Saltzmann's statement had been correct, the ship would arrive at 3am. Zak sat back against the cold wall and waited.

On the dot, Krushkov spoke a brief acknowledgement, got up from his chair, and made his way upstairs. He arrived in the jail to find Brigard dozing off at the desk. He marched over and kicked Brigard's chair, shouting at the same time. `Wake up you useless idiot!' `Boss! Sorry boss,' pleaded Brigard. `I've just received word from Sato,' said Krushkov sweeping across the room. `The ship's here. We need to prepare for docking.' `Okay. Do you want me to set up the docking procedure?' asked Brigard.

`You! Don't be stupid,' said Krushkov incredulously, as Brigard recoiled. `Get me Herbet, I want someone who knows the Colossus.'

Brigard picked up the key and trudged over to the cell door. He pointed it at the door, which unlocked and slid back. `Mr. Herbet. Come to the door immediately,' he said weakly.

Herbet had already got to his feet, and was rubbing his numb backside. `Yeah I know, I heard him,' he said. He walked up and stepped past the door, which closed shut behind him.

Krushkov slapped him across the back of the head, nearly knocking him over. `Don't talk to Brigard like that,' he shouted.

He took out his blaster, and pointed it at Herbet's head. `Time to make yourself useful. We need to stop the ship spinning,' he said. `Okay,' said Herbet, shaken by Krushkov's rebuke.

Herbet hesitated. `You realise that will stop the artificial gravity,' he said. `I know that!' said Krushkov with disdain.

Zak brought up Ship Rotation in preparation for thwarting the docking attempt. He was wary of Krushkov's explosive temperament and apprehensive about putting it to the test again.

Herbet was given an identical setup to Geremi, a chair facing the screen positioned above the table. He also accessed Ship Rotation.

The current rotation rate was reported as ten metres per second. `Ten!' exclaimed Krushkov. `That's not right you know.'

Like Geremi, Herbet had logged in under Maximum Security Clearance. Zak could see the real value of the rotation rate on his own screen. It was as he had set it sixteen.

Herbet entered a command, then nodded at Krushkov.

Krushkov spoke again. This time his voice boomed over the ship's loudspeaker system. `Attention everyone! We're going to turn off the artificial gravity for a short while. I suggest you tuck yourselves under the nearest table, as anyone seen floating around will be used as target practice.'

On Zak's screen, the current rotation rate started falling steadily, 15, 14, 13,… But as yet, there was no change on Herbet's screen.

Krushkov folded his arms and glared at Herbet.

Once the rate fell below ten, Herbet's screen finally showed it falling. Krushkov's frown eased.

Until the Colossus stopped spinning, the hijackers' ship would not be able to dock. Zak aimed to fiddle with the rotation rate to ensure that it wouldn't stop. Using his powers under Emergency Security Clearance, he added a secret adjustment.

As the rate fell towards zero, Zak could feel a wave of weightlessness ripple through him. It was a pleasant sensation, but it was followed by another wave, this time of nausea. The counter on Herbet's screen stopped at zero.

Everyone in the jail grabbed hold of the nearest piece of screweddown furniture, to stop themselves drifting away. `Sato!' said Krushkov, `The ship's ready. Begin docking procedure.' `Are you sure boss?' came a female voice in reply. `Looks like the ship's still spinning to me.' `What!' said Krushkov. `External view!' he shouted.

The top half of the screen changed to show the view from an external camera situated on the engine, pointing forward along the length of the ship. It was not unlike Zak's view from the nose, but upside down. In the background, the stars drifted gently clockwise.

The hijackers' ship appeared from the right, close to the camera but drifting with the stars. The ship was short and fat with a bulky rocket of its own. It had a flat top, which was evidently the side that would dock.

Krushkov turned on Herbet. `What's going on?' he demanded.

Herbet cowered. `I don't know,' he said uncertainly. `I.. I've never known this reading to be wrong. I'll try again.'

He fiddled with the options again. Zak could see that he was making no changes whatsoever. `I can't see anything wrong, but here's another go,' said Herbet.

Everyone stared at the external camera view, but there was no effect.

Krushkov glared menacingly at Herbet and again lifted the blaster to aim at his head.

Zak realised that Herbet would be in big trouble the longer this continued, and he desperately wanted to avoid another Geremi situation. But it was Herbet who had advised him to put Krushkov under stress. `There must be something wrong with the reading,' protested Herbet. `It needs to slow down about one metre per second. I'll try that.'

This time Herbet genuinely altered the values. On screen, jets positioned around the outside of the ship fired up, each emitting a short blue flame. The reading displayed a target rate of minus one metre per second. The rotation visibly slowed. `Better,' said Krushkov, lowering the gun. `Sato are you ready?' `Easing in,' said Sato.

The hijackers' ship fired rockets of its own, to guide it towards the docking bay. The giant ship's spin came to a perfect halt, and its jets shut off at precisely the same moment. The hijackers' ship came gliding in, perfectly lined up with the outer doors of the docking bay. `Not so fast,' said Zak, as he made another tiny adjustment. The jets fired another brief burst, and the ship's bulk was on the move again.

The hijackers' ship was now crucially out of line. For a moment, time appeared to stand still as everyone froze, knowing what was going to happen.

All watching winced as one side of the hijackers' ship clattered against the edge of the docking bay, accompanied by an almighty bang that reverberated throughout the Colossus. On screen the hijackers' ship rattled in the docking bay like a snooker ball caught in the jaws of a pocket.

Zak covered his ears to smother the insanely loud drumbeat of metal impacting metal that pounded and echoed around him.

As the hijackers' ship bounced away, the noise died. `What's going on! Sort it out up there,' shouted Sato.

`I will sort it out,' Krushkov assured her. `Get yourself righted, and next time there won't be a problem.'

Krushkov pushed the blaster into Herbet's temple. He spoke calmly. `I don't have endless patience. You know that.'

Then, he burst with rage. `Now stop this ship right now or it will be your brains spinning out of control!'

Zak knew that Krushkov had reached his limit. Herbet would know Zak was responsible. He couldn't expect Herbet to give up his life to keep that a secret. So he decided that this particular game was up, and entered a genuine instruction to stop the ship.

Herbet however, was still trying to buy time. He bowed his head towards Krushkov. `I don't understand, it must be a malfunction,' he said, with a tremor in his voice. `We normally have engineers constantly at work maintaining systems. If anomalies aren't dealt with as they occur, they build up and disrupt other systems.'

Krushkov maintained his executioner's pose, but waited, obviously in thought. Killing Herbet wouldn't help his cause.

Everyone stared at him in fear. Sato's voice interrupted the tension. `You stopped the beast eventually. I'm coming in.'

On screen, the stars were fixed in position, and the hijackers' ship closed in once again on the docking bay. This time it was aligned perfectly, and plugged itself in. The echo of a healthier sounding click was heard. `Well,' said Krushkov, pulling his gun away. `It seems the gremlins have decided to spare your life.'

There was now zero gravity on board the Colossus. The nervous shuffling of Brigard during the whole scene had sent him drifting upwards. He seemed petrified of making a move to stop himself, and his head smacked into the ceiling.

Krushkov turned and frowned at him, but seeing that he had rebounded back towards the floor, said nothing.

Despite his relief, Herbet was as white as a sheet. He turned his head back to look at the screen, causing beads of sweat to detach from his forehead and rain towards the wall. On impact, the beads exploded into a spray that came back and showered his face.

At that very moment, Zak had the sensation that he too had been splashed. He ignored it.

Krushkov pulled a tissue from his pocket. `Here,' he smiled, handing it to Herbet.

Then the smile turned to a sneer. `You sweaty pig,' he added.

Zak jolted with anger. `I'll make you sweat!' he vowed quietly to himself. `All done,' said Sato.

Krushkov regained his composure. `Okay Herbet! Get the gravity back on quickly, and make sure it's definitely ten this time!'

Herbet set the rotation value, and the jets immediately fired up, this time in the opposite direction. The ship began to spin, taking the docked ship with it. Everyone waited for the pull of solid ground to take hold.

Once he became steady on his feet, Krushkov addressed Brigard. `Lock him up again,' he said, indicating Herbet. `I'm going to welcome our friend.'

Krushkov left the jail and headed out to the green corridor. Zak followed him on the CCTV.

To Zak's astonishment, he saw puddles on the floor. The carpet was drenched, and water streamed off the walls and ceiling. Even Krushkov stopped for a moment to puzzle at this phenomenon.

Keeping one eye on Krushkov's progress, Zak opened another window to look around the ship. It was almost the same story throughout, except the water hadn't reached the front of the ship. The restaurant was still dry.

He wondered whether a water tank had burst, but that thought led to another thought, and he switched to a view of the swimming pool.

The pool was empty, but the doors were closed.

He found the culprit. Water poured out of the air circulators in the ceiling. Under zero gravity, the air circulators were the only force, pulling the water through them, and all around the ship. He checked back to the restaurant. Worryingly, the blanket covering the bench was soaked. He could only hope no-one would notice.

Krushkov reached the cargo hold and descended the steps to the lower floor. Zak turned his attention back to him, and watched carefully.

Krushkov approached the docking bay. It was sealed by two large square panels. They were curved slightly, to match the shape of the floor. On another raised platform several metres away was a large screen, providing access to the ship's computer, along with a good view of the cargo hold.

He climbed the steps up to the platform and entered a command.

The floor panels slowly parted to reveal a rectangular opening into the ship below. Zak noticed that it was large enough to fit a small container.

A head popped up from the opening. It was an oriental woman.

Zak found a camera angle to get a good look. The woman leaned forwards and gripped the edge. There was no smile. She looked like she was here to do a job. `Welcome Sato. How bad was it?' said Krushkov. `Just minor external damage,' said Sato. `Are you in control of this ship?' `We're in charge, but only just in control,' said Krushkov.

Sato tried to clamber out, but she struggled to heave herself up.

Krushkov rushed down the steps towards her. `Ah, gravity,' said Sato. `I always need five minutes to recover from a few days in zero-grav.'

Krushkov grabbed her hand and helped her up. She got to her feet, but swayed a little. `I've brought some presents,' she said, handing Krushkov the end of a rope with her other hand. `Good. I can tell you we need them. And you,' he said, pulling the rope. A sack emerged from the ship below, containing some very pointy objects.

`Is everything still on course?' asked Sato. `Just about,' replied Krushkov. `We had to initiate takeover over a day early. We lost a few men in the battle, and we're all knackered.

And, this ship is so riddled with faults it would probably fall apart if we didn't bomb it.'

Krushkov opened the sack and took out one of the objects. Zak could see that it was a machine gun. `But these little babies should see us through,' said Krushkov.

Zak's heart sank as he saw the balance of power shifting. A sack full of machine guns gave the hijackers a very distinct advantage. But a thought occurred to him, that if he could pinch just one of them, he might wrest the advantage back.

Krushkov spoke to the ship's computer. `Broadcast video,' he said.

In front of Zak, the entire passageway wall lit up with a repeating image of Krushkov in the cargo hold, enlarged to the height of the wall. Zak's windows remained on top, so he was still able to check the restaurant and jail - their walls were overlaid with the same video image. Even the walls of the cargo hold displayed it, so Krushkov could watch himself. `Attention everyone! And I mean everyone who may be watching,' said Krushkov. `Our ship has arrived, and we will soon be leaving. You must all behave as we make our way. Why? Because we are now armed with these.'

From the video he judged the direction of the camera. He looked up at it and waved the gun around. Then he pointed the machine gun at one of the containers stacked high in the cargo hold, and squeezed the trigger. Bullets peppered the container, amid the deafening sound of gunfire. Eventually, it buckled.

As Krushkov let go of the trigger, and the echoes died away, the manic barking of dogs could be heard. `Those toy blasters were cumbersome,' he continued. `If there is anyone out there who still wants to play silly games, we'll have you.

End broadcast.'

On the wall in front of Zak, the repeating image disappeared. But his own set-up remained, and he continued to watch. Sato was somewhat taken aback by the firing. `What's the matter?' said Krushkov. `The ship's hull is solid steel a metre thick. There's no danger of puncturing it.'

He handed the gun to Sato. `Don't point one near the docking bay though,' he said.

He took another out of the sack for himself. `Let's get the swap done. I'm logged in up there.' `Okay,' said Sato, hanging the gun over her shoulder. She walked over to the raised platform with more strength in her stride. `Watch those steps,' said Krushkov. `They're wet.'

Sato climbed the steps steadily, and accessed the computer. `Good,' she said, scanning the screen in front of her, `this all looks familiar.'

Zak could see her navigating Cargo Hold. She entered some information and stood back. Two large robot arms that hung from the ceiling started moving in unison.

One of them swivelled and glided along to a stack of two small containers about a quarter of the way round from the docking bay.

The arm had two main joints, an elbow and a wrist. It lowered its hand over the top container, and the fingers adjusted to obtain a firm grip. As they clenched, the skin of the arm changed shape, as the muscles and tendons within took the strain. Zak thought that if it wasn't bright yellow it would look just like a human arm.

The other robot arm positioned itself over the docking bay, then plunged its hand down into the hijackers' ship.

Then simultaneously, the arms lifted vertically. From inside the hijackers' ship a container emerged identical to the one in the cargo hold. The containers rose to a height of several metres, just above all the stacks of containers between them, then stopped abruptly. The new container slipped slightly, and the robot arm tensed itself again to grip it. `Hey, make sure it's slow and steady,' said Krushkov. `That's delicate cargo we've got there.'

`Sure,' acknowledged Sato. She made an adjustment, and the robot arms started to move slowly. They began by travelling on a direct path towards each other. Each arm only had to travel twenty metres, but at the minimal speed they were moving, it was clear it would take a few minutes to complete the action. The paths began to diverge, to allow the containers to pass alongside.

Zak marvelled at this sight. He had seen warehouse robots before, but in this peculiar environment, it was like seeing the thick spokes of a wheel swapping places. `Okay,' said Krushkov, seemingly happy with progress. `I'm going to hand these out to the others.'

He lifted the base of the sack and emptied the contents, creating a pile of machine guns on the floor. Then he picked up just four and put them back in. `We don't need them all,' he said. `Put the rest back in the ship.

We'll make an organised retreat in ten minutes time.' `The swap will be complete in a couple of minutes,' said Sato. `I'll be ready to go.' `If you see anyone you don't recognise, shoot on sight,' said Krushkov. `One exception. We have a VIP hostage locked in the kennels. He's worth more alive.'

Krushkov climbed the steps to leave the cargo hold. A sense of dread descended over Zak. He knew that time was fast running out. In ten minutes, Krushkov would return with his colleagues, and they would simply jump in their ship and be off.

Now that he knew which container held the bomb, the question was how to get rid of it. He decided to ask Herbet, who was back in his seat behind bars. `Hey Herbet,' said Zak. `The hijackers are now bringing the bomb on board using the robot arms, and are going to be leaving pretty sharpish.'

Herbet responded with a groan. `How can we jettison it when they're gone?' asked Zak.

`Well, we can use the robot arm to place it into the docking bay.

Then we shut the inside doors and open the outside doors, and it will get flung away. It won't travel very fast away from the ship though, so it will take time to reach a safe distance.' `Time we might not have,' said Zak desperately. `No. It might be better to prevent the hijackers from leaving somehow. Then they'll have to defuse the bomb,' said Herbet. `Of course, if they can't defuse it, that's not a good idea.' `Okay,' said Zak. `Let me think about this for a minute.'

Zak took a deep breath, and tried to quell the rising sense of panic. He had to come up with a definitive plan, not just act on impulse. He thought through the hijackers' plan, and considered what opportunities he had to disrupt it. He recalled all the useful bits of information he had picked up in the last few days, and even took Herbet's suggestions into account. Ideas began to flit around his mind, and one quickly evolved into a plan. As he reviewed the plan, a sense of excitement grew. He believed it was a winner. `Hey,' he said. `I've got a plan. But instead of stopping them, it means getting them to leave as soon as possible.' `How would that work?' asked Herbet cautiously.

Zak explained the plan in more detail. `Clever. Very clever,' said Herbet. `The dangerous bit is causing the disruption in the first place. Let me give you one piece of advice - don't get in the firing line of a machine gun. You say you play games a lot, but forget what you've seen in games. This is real life. These guys won't miss - one burst of gunfire and you're dead.' `Er.. okay,' said Zak. The advice took him by surprise, but he didn't dismiss it. `Good luck Zak,' said Herbet. `You can do it.' `Thanks,' said Zak. He paused for a moment, on realising that he had a growing respect for Mr. Herbet.

He stood up in readiness to initiate his plan. The first step was to access Cargo Hold, and give the computer a single command. That took him just a few seconds.

The next step was to create a diversion. For this, he needed to visit the cargo hold. He observed the route being taken by Krushkov to collect his colleagues, and identified an alternative route that would not cross it.

He climbed up from his hiding place, and started making his way there. He had to be quick, as there was only a small window of time to carry out his plan. This would be his final clash with the hijackers. At the end of it, either he or they would be dead.

Chapter 15: The Colour of Blood

3:20am SST Tuesday 15 January 2085

It took Zak less than a minute to get from his hiding place to the cargo hold entrance. But by the time he had splashed his way there, the bottoms of his trouser legs were soaking.

This part of the plan was a repeat of the strategy he had used with success before - to attract attention and trigger a chase. But on this occasion, he ran the real risk of being shot.

He blocked the communication link between Sato and Krushkov, then burst in through the entrance, making sure to be heard. `Oh!' he shouted, with a well-acted look of surprise.

Sato was crouched over the opening in the docking bay, lowering the spare machine guns into the ship. She turned her head and looked up at Zak in astonishment. She immediately took a grip of the gun on her shoulder and swung it round to aim at him.

Zak turned to scarper, but his right foot slipped on the wet floor.

Instead of sprinting away, his legs tangled up and he tumbled through the doorway. Sato let fly with a round of fire.

Zak was sure he had scrambled clear in time, but as he got to his feet a sharp pain ripped up his right leg. The wall outside the cargo hold was torn up by the bullets, and a large triangle of video sheet stuck out of his thigh. `Boss!' shouted Sato frantically. `A kid just burst in here, shall I go after him? Boss?'

There was no time. Zak plucked the shard out. The point was in deep, and the pain made him convulse. But he was not thinking about the pain, but about what he had allowed to happen. Getting hurt was not part of the plan. He set off down the corridor in a desperate sprint.

By the time he passed the tinted window over Phobos nightclub, the pain had intensified to an unbearable level, as each stride pounded the wound. He thought he was used to pain, but this was an altogether different experience. First, the pain represented real damage to his body, and second, he was fleeing for his real life.

He briefly closed his eyes to catch a glimpse of the cargo hold.

Sato had started bounding up the steps towards the entrance.

As he neared the end of the corridor, he could sense his trousers clinging to his leg. It was more than wet, it was blood-soaked. Over his shoulder he could see a trail of blood splatter, spreading out quickly on the wet carpet. Sato would be able to follow him.

His plan was to run round the balcony of the hamster wheel to the Red Quadrant and into Heaven's Spa. He turned left onto the balcony just in time. Seconds later, the sound of machine gun fire pierced the air behind him, accompanied by the ricochet of bullets on walls and railings. `What the hell!' shouted Krushkov, hearing the noise despite having reached the reception hall. `What's going on Sato? Sato!'

As Zak pelted round the balcony, he closed his eyes again. As fast as he could, he found the settings for décor, selected Carpet and set the colour to red. He opened his eyes to find he was now running on a red carpet. `Wow!' exclaimed Sato. `That was quick thinking!'

Zak ignored the warning signs coming from his body, and sprinted as if he wasn't injured at all. This is going to do some damage, he thought. But it would be worse if Sato caught up.

The effort had been necessary. He just made it inside the Spa before Sato reached the hamster wheel.

He checked the CCTV. Sato stood at one end of the walkway, apparently stumped as to which direction to go.

Zak had bought some time. The Spa was made up of an intricate arrangement of rooms, mostly furnished with chairs and numerous tall plants, spread in a way that made it awkward to see the way through.

It was a good place to escape, but not when bleeding heavily. He crept carefully through the rooms so as not to touch anything other than the floor. `Sato!' shouted Krushkov.

Zak stopped to check the CCTV again. Krushkov was running back towards the cargo hold along the green corridor. `What's going on?' he shouted. `This ship's on the blink again.' `A kid came into the cargo hold,' shouted Sato. `I hit him, but he got away. I was going to follow the trail of blood but the floor turned red.'

Krushkov stopped running, dropped the sack, and put his hands on his hips panting. `Well dammit,' said Krushkov. `If he was able to do that, then he must have security clearance.'

Zak cringed as he realised Krushkov had rumbled him. He should have stuck to his original plan of outrunning Sato, and not used the computer to make such a deliberate change. `Which means he was able to cut off our communication right now, which means he's been the one tormenting us all this time,' said Krushkov, confirming Zak's fears.

Krushkov picked up the sack and ran to join Sato.

It was another breakdown in Zak's plan, and another mistake on his part. This one put the crew and passengers in danger. But the plan was not yet lost. When Sato left the cargo hold, the robots had almost finished the swap. As long as she didn't return for a while, his plan should still succeed.

He set off again, listening only to the Mind Patch audio. `What shall we do?' asked Sato. `I don't know which way he went.'

There was a strange pause. `Wait! I've got his PSI,' exclaimed Krushkov.

Zak almost collapsed in shock. That couldn't be possible. `He's just through there,' shouted Krushkov. `Let's go.'

Zak tried to comprehend what this meant. If they could track him, there was nowhere he could hide. All he could think to do was run.

He pushed his way through a door. `He must be heading for the maintenance zone,' said Krushkov.

Zak tried to quicken his pace. He dodged a plant pot, then a chair, but clattered into another plant pot, whacking his shin and knocking it over. His reaction was to put it upright, but earth had escaped all over the carpet. He left it and carried on. `He's coming towards us,' shouted Krushkov.

Zak stopped, perplexed as to where they were. Wasn't he headed towards the front of the ship? Had he become disorientated in this maze of vegetation? In panic, he turned and ran back the way he came.

`He's right behind this door. We've got him!' screamed Krushkov.

Zak screeched to a halt again, now at a complete loss. It was if they were coming at him from all directions. He heard gunfire and a door being blasted open. But the sound was through the Mind Patch, not first hand. `Got you, you little runt!' screamed Krushkov with rage. `Get off me!' yelled a young voice. Zak recognised it as Ragboy's.

Zak shook his head. If only he had checked the visuals he would have seen they weren't chasing him.

He frantically activated a screen on the nearest wall to see what was going on. They were in the gymnasium, having gone in the opposite direction to the Spa. He was infuriated that Ragboy had escaped. It was what he had feared. `How can a little rat like you cause us so much trouble?' raged Krushkov.

He had Ragboy gripped effortlessly in an armlock. Sato looked puzzled, but did not interfere. `You'll pay for it,' he said, and threw Ragboy across the room.

He then grabbed the machine gun at his shoulder.

Zak could see what was going to happen. A guilty thought popped into his head, that he could allow Ragboy to take the blame.

He suppressed it. He would try and save him.

But he had to act fast. Fortunately, he had become so adept at using the ship's computer that he only need think of a command, and it would be carried out.

Ragboy tried to pick himself up off the floor, but Krushkov was lining up the machine gun in his hands. As he aimed, the room plunged into darkness.

Zak had switched off the lights. His view of the gymnasium turned pitch black. `What on Mars?' said an astonished Krushkov.

Ragboy also seemed stunned. He just stood there. `Run Ragboy Run! Get out of there!' shouted Zak.

Krushkov activated the torch on his weapon, but Ragboy was no longer in front of him. He squeezed the trigger anyway, and waved the barrel around to spray the wall behind and its vicinity. An exercise machine was ripped to shreds. `The PSI?' said Sato. `Yes,' said Krushkov, checking his wristband. `I've got him.'

Krushkov turned to the right and let rip once more into the corner of the room. A bench and plant pot were caught up in the hail of bullets. `He's not moving, but he's still alive,' said Krushkov. `His signal is still there.' `I can't see anyone,' said Sato, not shooting but pointing her torch into the corner.

They moved forward to check. `He's not hiding behind anything is he?' said Krushkov, nervously. `There's nothing here at all,' said Sato.

They pointed the guns up and down to see if the signal was coming from the ceiling or floor. `Damn!' shouted Krushkov. `He's fooled us again.'

He kicked the already heavily damaged bench.

Rather than deactivate the signal, Zak had disguised it from Krushkov by setting its position to one corner of the room. This had given Ragboy a chance to get away while they looked in the wrong place. Ragboy's real PSI signal was in the opposite corner, but to Zak's great concern, that was not moving either.

Zak activated the night-vision option, which gave a crystal clear, but black and white image. Ragboy lay face down behind a bench, but Zak couldn't tell if he was hiding or injured. `I don't think that was the kid I saw,' said Sato. `No. It would seem he's not the one hounding us either,' said Krushkov wistfully. `I wonder how many of these little urchins are running around.' `We only have to worry about the one pulling the strings,' said Sato.

`Whoever it is must have been given some kind of special security clearance by Herbet,' said Krushkov. `He lied to me. And I thought he was a cowardly lump.' `Brigard?' he shouted, putting his hand to his ear.

There was no reply. `Romero, Fang, Ubogu anyone?' he tried again.

The channel was dead. Zak had cut off all their communication.

Krushkov and Sato both let out a deep sigh.

They stood there in the near darkness, the torchlights focusing white spots on the ground. The glow reflected back, catching their faces, creating a ghostly effect in Zak's night-vision.

Krushkov addressed Zak. `So, whoever you are, I suppose you've been watching our every move,' he said loudly.

Zak did not reply. `You're just a boy. Your family must be in the restaurant,' said Krushkov, his voice becoming more of a taunt. `Perhaps they are sitting next to that bench.'

Zak was already working to thwart Krushkov further, but the taunt stung him. `You should leave now,' said Zak. `Go back to your ship and leave.' `And why should we do that?' asked Krushkov confidently. `I've just told the rest of your mob that I'm in control and that you are heading back to the ship. They're abandoning their posts right now to catch up with you,' said Zak.

Krushkov didn't answer that. He wiped his forehead and let out a loud sigh.

Zak checked the restaurant to confirm his own story. Romero, Fang and Ubogu quietly left and shut the main door. A murmur started to grow among the passengers and remaining crew.

In the cargo hold, the ship's computer was carrying out his instruction. Very soon, his plan would be complete, and Krushkov would be left with no choice but to leave. Zak's confidence was soaring. `Leave now,' he ordered.

Krushkov still didn't move. Zak suspected he needed reminding of his predicament. `Get a move on. The clock is ticking,' he said.

Krushkov reacted with a start. `What clock is that?' he asked. `You know, the one that's counting down,' said Zak. `I'm not aware that any clock is ticking,' he said. `Are you Sato?' `No boss, there's no clock ticking that I'm aware of,' she said with a smile.

Zak stepped backwards, and a chill danced down his spine. He had made a terrible mistake - the bomb was not yet primed! It must have been something Herbet had said that made him assume it was.

Suddenly, the strain on his body took hold of his mind. His head dropped. Sweat streamed down his face, and as he wiped it away with his arm, a wave of nausea overcame him. He felt very ill. `We're not in a hurry to leave, if that's what you were thinking,' said Krushkov. `You've caused us problems, you certainly have. But we've got all day to take back control of this ship. And I assure you, we'll take revenge on those who've disrupted our plans, like your friend Mr. Herbet. He's escaped death once today, but not again.'

As Krushkov laid down his threat, Zak tried to think positive. It was time to unleash the power at his disposal. Using the ship's computer he implemented every ploy he could think of that would beat the hijackers down. He made adjustments to the ship's rotation and internal temperature, and gave the interior a very special makeover.

His pain eased, as adrenaline regained the upper hand. `You should leave right now,' he replied with defiance. `Because things are going to get very difficult for you.' `Yeah yeah,' said Krushkov with contempt.

Krushkov beckoned Sato to follow him, picked up his sack, and strode purposefully out of the darkened room. He stopped sharply on finding that it was also pitch black in the corridor. `Maybe we should just get out of here,' whispered Sato. `I don't fancy a fight when we can barely see where we're going, and our enemy is in control of the ship.'

`He knows about the bomb,' said Krushkov, not bothering to whisper. `And he's bound to tell the crew. As soon as we're gone they'll heave the bomb out of the docking bay, and our mission will have failed.'

Krushkov waved the torch around, illuminating featureless walls, ceiling and floor. Every surface in the corridor had its colour and pattern removed, leaving behind the default grey. Even the signs were blank, so there was nothing to indicate direction, slice or quadrant. `Which direction did we come in?' asked Krushkov. `We turned left into the room,' said Sato, `so we turn right for the cargo hold and left for the front of the ship.' `If, as planned, they didn't know about the bomb,' explained Krushkov, `we would have offered our apologies and left quietly. But now we have to ensure they can't interfere with it. Step one is to get back proper control of the ship and put this pipsqueak out of action.' `I understand,' said Sato. `I'm wondering why he came into the cargo hold. He must have known I was in there.'

Krushkov screamed, making Sato jump. `The bomb! We've left it unsupervised! If there's more of these rascals running around they might be interfering with it right now.'

He sighed again. `Bah! I bet that was his plan, to get us out of the cargo hold,' he said. `You crafty devil!' he shouted.

Zak was only half listening. He was already working on the battle ahead. `You'd better get back there and make sure nothing has been sabotaged,' said Krushkov. `I'm going to deal with Herbet and extract the correct security key.' `Yes,' said Sato. She turned right and started running.

Krushkov turned to the left and pointed his torch along the corridor. Just as he started to run, a figure appeared in the doorway at the end. `Don't shoot!' it screamed. `Brigard!' shouted Krushkov angrily. `What are you doing?' `Going to the cargo hold. I was told you were leaving.'

`Since when did I tell you to follow someone else's orders? Now get back to the jail. We are not leaving!' `Yes. Sorry boss,' whimpered Brigard. He turned and started running back the way he came. `Wait you idiot!' shouted Krushkov. `I'm coming with you.'

Krushkov caught up Brigard and they headed towards the front of the ship. They soon arrived at a crossroads. `Which way?' demanded Krushkov. `Er… I'm not sure,' said Brigard weakly. `I got a bit lost.'

Krushkov waved his torch around, but there was no clue as to their location. `I'll check the PSI map,' said Krushkov.

He looked at his wristband, then slapped it. `Nothing! I can't get anything at all,' he sighed. `I think we're in yellow, so we go right to get to the jail. Here, take this,' he said to Brigard, handing him his machine gun.

He took another gun out of the sack, then thrust the sack at Brigard. `And take this sack. I feel like Father bloody Christmas.'

Zak had removed Krushkov's security clearance, and took great amusement from watching him struggle.

Sato did not have such a problem. She had reached the hamster wheel on her way back to the cargo hold. The wide green corridor walkway was easy to recognise, and she quickly worked out which way to go. As she reached the corridor, she illuminated the floor ahead. The trail of blood was thoroughly soaked into the now grey carpet, but still visible. She used the torch to reveal the trail around the balcony. It led in the opposite direction that she and Krushkov had gone. She shook her head, then continued on to the cargo hold.

Zak was also on the move, but stayed tuned in to events elsewhere. He wanted to check on Ragboy in the gymnasium, so he left the Spa, but rather than cross the green corridor, took a detour via the swimming pool downstairs.

Navigation was easy in the darkness. He just shut his eyes and used the map of the ship.

On entering the gymnasium he turned the lights on. Immediately, he spotted a body, lying next to a small pool of blood.

`Ragboy!' he cried, rushing over. `Uh,' groaned Ragboy. `I've been shot. I'm in agony. I'm gonna die…'

Zak knelt and examined him for wounds. He found just one, in his right arm, and not a direct hit either. He let out a laugh. `I'm not saying it's not serious, but you won't die,' said Zak. `I've been hit as well. Look!'

He pointed at his blood soaked trousers.

Ragboy stared at him in disbelief. `How can you even stand up?' he croaked. `Yeah I probably shouldn't be running on it,' said Zak. `Please help me,' begged Ragboy. `Wait a sec,' said Zak.

He closed his eyes to quickly check the latest situation. Sato had reached the cargo hold.

Zak had deliberately spared the cargo hold from the imposed blackout. He wanted the hijackers to leave, so he retained lights, power, and access to Cargo Hold.

Sato carefully ran down the steps and up onto the platform. The screen read "Container Swap - Robot 1 / Robot 2. Command completed." `It's okay boss - all done,' she said.

There was no response. `Ah! Damn communications.'

She glanced around the expanse of the cargo hold, then accessed the computer again. She brought up a CCTV view of the area and studied the screen. Apparently satisfied, she panned the view along. `Okay you don't need that any more,' muttered Zak.

The screen abruptly switched off.

Sato stepped back angrily, and looked up towards the main camera just as Krushkov had. `Yeah, but don't forget kid, we've got these,' she shouted. She pointed the machine gun in the air and let off a few rounds, as if to make the point.

Sato remained on the platform but showed no sign of poking her nose into anything else, so Zak decided it was safe to leave her to it.

He checked the positions of the others. Romero, Fang and Ubogu were making their way along the green corridor. `What's going on?' said Ragboy. `What are you doing?'

Zak opened his eyes. `Just dealing with the hijackers,' he said.

Zak realised he had to keep an eye on Krushkov, and could do without Ragboy interrupting him. `I'll get you a doctor,' he said. `You hang in there, okay.'

Zak left the exercise room and shut himself into the gymnasium office. He grabbed a chair and commandeered the wall. As he rested back, and let himself relax, his mind reeled with dizziness. It was tempting to allow himself to pass out. But as a window on the action appeared, he snapped back into concentration.

Time was running out. The hijackers knew he was free. They knew that he knew about the bomb.

He had to make sure that they left now without killing anyone else. It would be the final act.

*

Krushkov and Brigard arrived at the reception hall hamster wheel. `Oh. We've gone too far,' said Brigard. `Did they not think about power failure when they designed this blasted ship,' said Krushkov in despair. `There's not a single sign anywhere. It looks the same in every direction! Where are the stairs here?'

They both guided their torches around the huge hall. `There's the stairs,' said Brigard, waving the beam of light on it, then pointing towards a door. `Which means that's the way to the jail.' `I know my way from the stairs!' snapped Krushkov. `Let's go,' he said, bustling forward. `Mr. Herbet, I'm coming to wring your neck.'

Chapter 16: Zak v Krushkov

3:45am SST Tuesday 15 January 2085

Krushkov and Brigard swiftly found their way to the jail.

Krushkov led the way, marching in, and pointing his torch towards the cell door.

He roared. The door was open, and the cell was empty. `I knew this would happen,' he lamented. `He's one step ahead of us every time.'

He glared at Brigard. `And you're an idiot!' he shouted.

Brigard made no attempt to answer back.

Krushkov let out a hysterical laugh. `Well they can't hide forever. We'll just put a gun to the heads of some women and children, and they'll come crawling out of the woodwork.' `What if the women and children escape?' ventured Brigard cautiously. `If the restaurant is empty when we get there, I will laugh even harder. But where are three hundred people going to hide.'

Krushkov turned and made to leave. `Boss?' said Brigard nervously. `What!' said Krushkov. `Have you noticed how cold it's getting?' said Brigard. As he spoke, a frosty cloud billowed from his mouth. `I've had other things on my mind,' said Krushkov with irritation.

But he felt it, and rubbed his hands together. Both men were wearing just thin jackets over their t-shirts. `I bet he's turned the heating off,' said Brigard, starting to panic. `We're gonna freeze to death.' `You dimwit,' sneered Krushkov. `The ship's in direct sunlight.

We'd boil to death if it didn't cool the air inside. The air conditioning will be working hard to get the temperature down, so I doubt it can get low enough to freeze us.'

Krushkov folded his arms and shivered. `It is getting cold alright,' he conceded.

Zak punched the air on hearing this. `Come on. Give up,' he shouted.

Brigard bent over and took a deep breath. `I'm so tired,' he muttered. `Oh stop moaning,' Krushkov shouted. `We're going downstairs, so you'd better summon up some strength.'

Krushkov and Brigard returned to the reception hall, crossed the walkway and went along the balcony to the top of the stairs.

Zak watched them all the way. `Let's see how your weak legs cope with super-gravity,' he mocked.

The two men hurried down the stairs. As they neared the bottom, they both stumbled and lost their footing. Brigard nose-dived with his arms out, while Krushkov stuck out his left leg in front of him.

Krushkov produced the loudest scream as they both crashed onto the floor, rolling through a big icy puddle and sliding to a stop. `It's freezing,' cried Brigard, as he pushed himself up from the floor, drenched.

Krushkov turned to sit up, then gripped his left ankle and groaned.

Brigard jumped to his feet, but slipped and fell over again right in front of Krushkov, sending a big splash into his face. `Whoa sorry,' Brigard pleaded.

Zak waited for Krushkov to explode. But instead, he slumped disconsolately, and wiped the slush from his face. Slowly, he got to his feet, but needed to crouch to steady himself. `I can hardly stand up, the gravity's too much,' he said. He took some deep breaths. `My ankle's gone and now I've got the shivers.

That is one smart kid.' `Thanks,' said Zak. `We have to keep going,' said Krushkov, through gritted teeth. `Once we get to the restaurant, we'll be able to take back control.'

Zak wanted them to give up, but had thought carefully about how to prompt them this time. He spoke firmly to the two men.

`I will continue to increase the gravity and lower the temperature until you guys can't move. I can have you lying flat out and frozen to the floor. But I'll do a deal with you. I'll ease off if you head straight back to the cargo hold, jump in your ship, and get out of here.'

Krushkov staggered over to the stairs and dropped himself down onto a step. It appeared he was considering Zak's offer. He laughed and shook his head. `I don't believe this,' he said. `I think we should take it,' said Brigard. `Shut up Brigard,' said Krushkov. `Okay kid,' he said, almost breathlessly. `Have it your way.' `The rest of your gang are there now, waiting for you,' said Zak. `At least let us get back up the stairs or we'll never make it,' said Krushkov. `Go ahead,' said Zak.

The deal was done. So to aid their progress, Zak resurrected the lights and power, but only along the route back.

Brigard picked up the sack and helped Krushkov to climb the stairs. Then, as instructed, they headed towards the cargo hold.

Zak smiled, as he noticed they had made a big mistake.

He set off again, going straight downstairs from the gymnasium.

While on the move, he checked the situation in the cargo hold.

Romero, Fang and Ubogu were sat by the entrance at the top of the stairs, no doubt because of the excessive gravity on the lower floor. Sato had joined them. `That kid was right under our noses,' said Romero. `I can't believe it. He must have deactivated the alarms we set up.' `Krushkov and Brigard are still out there,' said Ubogu. `They're vulnerable. Maybe we should help.' `It's risky,' said Romero. `We can't communicate with each other. If we go back out, we could lose even more people.' `Maybe we should leave them,' suggested Fang. `Krushkov said that if any of us were late, he'd leave us behind.' `You must help them,' said Sato. `What's the Red King going to do when he reviews the mission and finds out we left Krushkov behind.'

`Okay, perhaps we can take the risk,' said Romero, getting to his feet. `The passengers may be free, but they're unarmed. And we've got a bit of time to play with.'

The others acknowledged him, and wearily stood up.

Zak could not let them go searching. That would delay matters. `Attention,' he said, broadcasting to the cargo hold. `I am happy to announce that Krushkov and Brigard are on their way to meet you.

I'm letting you all escape. Aren't I nice?'

They all jeered, but evidently welcomed the chance to sit back down again.

Zak watched Krushkov and Brigard struggle along the green corridor. Krushkov had his left arm around Brigard, and his left foot raised. Brigard strode forward quickly, sack over his shoulder, pulling Krushkov along, who desperately hopped with his right foot to keep up. `Wait a second,' said Krushkov, forcing Brigard to stop. `I need a rest.'

Brigard let go and stopped in front of him.

Krushkov looked at him with horror. `Where's your gun!'

Brigard checked his shoulders for the strap. `Oh, I… I don't know,' he said, mortified. `I must have dropped it when we fell over.' `And what if one of them finds it?' roared Krushkov. `Get after it quick!'

Brigard handed Krushkov the sack, then started running back to the reception hall. Krushkov called after him. `And hurry up. We won't be waiting.'

Krushkov turned and staggered along forcefully by himself, as if motivated to be rid of Brigard.

Brigard reached the reception hall, and carefully descended the stairs. The lights were only on along the route he had taken, and it was dark elsewhere. He searched around the bottom of the stairs for the gun, but couldn't find it. He kicked the puddle in frustration. `Looking for something,' said a voice from the shadows. `Uh-oh,' said Brigard.

Zak stepped into the light. He held the machine gun, and had it aimed at Brigard. `I know how to use one of these,' he said. `So don't try anything.'

A stunned Brigard raised his hands. `Now go into that office behind the reception desk,' said Zak.

Brigard didn't move. There was clear distress in his face. `Do… do you know there is a bomb on board?' he asked in panic. `I do know that. I intend to get rid of it,' said Zak, resolutely. `Right. You'd better, all we'll all die,' said Brigard.

Zak simply continued to stare and point the gun at him.

Brigard hurried into the office. `Well in that case, good luck,' he said, before closing the door.

Zak remotely locked it behind him.

Herbet had led the rest of the senior crew into the maintenance zone. Zak decided to update him, but not to tell him that he was now armed. `It's nearly done Herbet,' said Zak. `The hijackers are in the cargo hold, apart from Krushkov who's on his way there.' `Well done,' said Herbet. `That was great thinking. Who knows what Krushkov would have done had he reached the restaurant. And we're safe, they won't be coming this way.' `Thanks,' said Zak. `They should be leaving very soon. But they're still armed, so I think you should stay put for now. When the hijackers are in their ship, I'll let you know.' `Zak, I have Emergency Security Clearance as well. I'm watching all this,' said Herbet smugly. `Oh yeah,' said Zak with a laugh. `Nice one.' `But I also have Super Emergency Security Clearance,' said Herbet. `Now that I am free, it is my duty to take over and lock you out.' `What!' screamed Zak. `That's not fair!' `What are you planning to do with the machine gun Zak?' asked Herbet.

Zak was completely thrown. He hadn't actually thought about what he was going to do with it, only that he should beat Brigard to it.

He also knew that there was no reason he should remain in charge, other than that he had successfully led the fight so far. `Be very careful Zak,' said Herbet. `It doesn't matter how good you think you are. If you put these guys in a life or death situation, they'll fight with all they've got. I can see you're already injured.' `I've got to rescue the Ambassador,' said Zak. `There's no need to do anything unless they threaten to take or kill him,' said Herbet. `And don't risk getting us all blown up for one person.' `Okay,' said Zak, with resignation.

His head dropped. Every knockback caused fatigue to kick in.

The high gravity was taking its toll on his injured leg. `Your plan is working Zak,' said Herbet. `It's a brilliant plan, and you've done an amazing job so far. So I've decided I'm going to ignore the rules and let you stay in charge. We'll come down to help as soon as it's safe.'

A surge of energy made Zak leap into the air. `Yes!' he shouted. He took a deep breath to revive his confidence. `Hey, Darren Thorne's badly injured in the gym. You'd better send a doctor.' `Will do. And I'll send one down to treat you. Although given the way you're running around, you mustn't be as hurt as you look.'

Zak smiled. He closed his eyes and saw Krushkov opening the door to the cargo hold.

Krushkov piled through, dropped the sack of guns and fell forward onto the floor.

Zak realised that he should get close to the cargo hold, in case a threat emerged to Caviana's father. He ran up the stairs to head there, keeping one eye on events. `I need a minute to rest,' said Krushkov, from his position on the floor. `Then we'll be off.' `Where's Brigard?' asked Romero. `The idiot left his gun behind,' said Krushkov. `I sent him back for it. If he's not here when we're leaving, tough.'

`We've got to wait for him,' protested Romero.

Krushkov coughed angrily. `Romero. Why did you bring everyone back here, just because a kid told you to?'

Romero bowed his head. `Sorry. We lost communication. I feared we'd be left behind.' `You were the one person I thought I could rely on,' said Krushkov. `Are we ready?' asked Sato, impatiently. `We need to do a couple of things first,' said Krushkov, `so I need one last effort from you all. That kid is in command of the ship.

There's not much he can do now, but we must act quickly. Can anyone think of a way to stop them ejecting the bomb?'

There was a slight pause, while the others thought about it. `We could destroy the robots. They'll never lift that container by themselves,' said Ubogu. `They'd be able to lift out the bomb,' said Romero, `but the container is locked, and it won't be easy to break open.' `That'll do for me,' said Krushkov. `What about priming the bomb are you ready Sato?'

Sato pulled a device out of her pocket. `Ready.' `Do it then,' said Krushkov. `I'll observe from here and come down when you're all in.'

Romero, Fang and Ubogu grabbed the remaining guns from the sack and positioned themselves at the top of the steps. Fang held his gun awkwardly due to his heavily bandaged hands. He had just enough finger sticking out to pull the trigger.

The robot arms hung from the ceiling, their elbows forming a right-angle as if ready for action. Their skin was whitened by a layer of frost, as was most of the contents of the cargo hold.

The three men fired at one robot, targeting the joints. The bullets punctured the skin, and it soon became peppered with tiny black holes. Flaps of skin began to peel away and smoke seeped out from a resulting hole. As the hole grew, wires and tubes sprang out. There was a bang, and the wrist and hand went limp. Another bang signalled the collapse of the elbow. The lower limb drifted down until the entire arm hung vertically. Smoking and lifeless.

The men turned their attention to the second robot, and crippled that one in the same manner. `Good work,' said Krushkov. `Now get in the ship.'

The three men started to descend the steps. `Watch those steps they're slippery!' shouted Sato.

Romero and Ubogu stopped suddenly on the icy steps and grabbed the rail on the left. Fang lurched for the one on the right, but his hand was unable to grip it. He lost his balance and his feet slipped from under him. He put his hands out to break his fall. As he landed on them, there was a crunch. He screamed, and rolled the rest of the way down the steps.

The others cringed as Fang finally reached the bottom. Romero and Ubogu made their way down steadily, holding the rail. They helped the distraught Fang to his feet and guided him towards the docking bay.

Zak imagined how painful Fang's hands must be at that moment.

But he was scared to think what his legs would feel like when the adrenaline dried up, and his psychological anaesthetic wore off.

He was monitoring events from just outside the door of the cargo hold. Krushkov sat the other side, oblivious to his presence.

Sato made her way across the floor to their container, which was stacked on top of another container. She held up her device.

Zak presumed that she was now going to set the timer on the bomb. This step was missing from his plan, and he could barely watch. But by now, he was used to watching everything. Almost without thinking, he selected a view from behind Sato, so that he could see the readings on the device.

She looked at it, then pointed it up at the container. She waited a few moments, then checked the readings. Nothing appeared.

`Come on!' she said, impatiently.

She waved the device around, until finally it beeped and a message appeared "Connection to nuclear device"

Zak gasped. This was some bomb. `You're sure those containers are swapped over,' said Krushkov sternly. `Totally sure boss,' Sato assured him. `The computer reported successful completion.' `And the container is locked?' he asked.

Sato stepped up to the stack of containers and managed to pull herself up so she could reach the frost covered lid. She wiped part of it to reveal a small screen. Zak zoomed in, and could see that it displayed a locked padlock symbol. Sato rattled the lid but it didn't budge. `Yes, it's locked,' she said. `Set the timer for five minutes,' said Krushkov. `Five minutes! We don't need that long,' she said. `We only need three minutes to reach the safe distance.' `Set it for five minutes, and get in the ship,' ordered Krushkov.

Sato jumped back down and checked the device. She entered five minutes and started the countdown. On seeing this, Zak quickly created a timer on the ship's computer to count down from five minutes. Then he had an idea. He displayed the countdown in giant numbers on the walls of the cargo hold.

Krushkov and Sato noticed this immediately, and turned to each other. `The kid's still watching us then,' said Sato. `It's a countdown to his own death,' said Krushkov. `I hope it makes it more exciting for him.'

Sato put the device back in her pocket and jogged carefully over to the docking bay. Krushkov made his way steadily down the steps, his face twisting in agony each time he put his left foot down. But instead of following Sato to the docking bay, he turned in the opposite direction.

As Sato lowered herself into the ship she noticed Krushkov. `Where are you going?' she said with astonishment.

`To get the Ambassador. He'll earn us a substantial ransom,' said Krushkov.

As Sato digested that, Zak knew that he now had to rescue Caviana's father. But first, he had to wait and see what Sato would do. `Are you mad?' said Sato. `Don't jeopardise the mission for it.' `I need some kind of bonus,' said Krushkov. `I've lost five men.' `The Red King will be more angry at you for taking the risk,' said Sato. `Watch the door,' said Krushkov sharply. `I can't,' said Sato. `I've got to get the ship started.'

She looked down into their ship. `Everyone's strapped in. You're on your own - boss,' she said firmly.

She let out a yell of frustration as Krushkov ignored her and continued towards the kennels, then she dropped down into the ship.

Krushkov hobbled along in visible pain, but appeared determined to collect his extra reward. As soon as he had disappeared into the kennels, Zak entered through the cargo hold door, and crept down the steps.

To reach the kennels, he took a route around the edge of the cargo hold. He had to stay out of view of both the docking bay and the kennels' entrance, so used the Mind Patch to keep an eye on both locations.

He hid behind a container near the kennels and waited, with the machine gun in his hands. Krushkov would soon be in his sights. He would have the chance to take revenge for the murder of Geremi.

It would be so easy. But was that really what he wanted? He watched as the door opened and Caviana's father emerged, nudged forward by the barrel of a machine gun. Krushkov followed him out. `The docking bay,' said Krushkov. `Move!'

Krushkov steered Caviana's father onto the widest path along the centre of the hamster wheel. They progressed along the curve towards the docking bay.

Zak crept out behind them and followed them onto the path. He aimed his gun at Krushkov. `Krushkov!' he shouted. `Drop the gun.'

Krushkov and Caviana's father both stopped and turned their heads to face Zak. Krushkov didn't drop his gun, but lowered it.

Caviana's father saw that Zak had him covered, and made a run for it.

He headed towards Zak, and hid behind a column of containers out of Krushkov's line of sight. He nodded at Zak.

Krushkov laughed. `Well, if it isn't the little urchin,' he said. `You've been a right little god in this ship. Locking doors here, turning off lights there, sending us round in circles…' `Drop the gun,' insisted Zak again. `Why don't you shoot me?' asked Krushkov, mischievously. `I want you to take your ship and go,' said Zak. `The clock really is ticking now isn't it.' `You won't have time to get rid of the bomb,' said Krushkov. `We'll see,' said Zak. `You're afraid to shoot me aren't you,' said Krushkov, taunting Zak. `Come on, you must play games. Or are you too young? It's no different to firing gunge. Try it!'

Zak wondered what Krushkov was playing at. Why did he want Zak to shoot at him? Perhaps he thought it would be weak of him to fire the first shot. He would have no idea that Zak could kill him before he even moved.

The countdown reached the three minute mark. Krushkov surely had to leave now. Zak was getting worried, but to his relief spied movement over at the docking bay.

Zak lowered his gun, and flung it across the floor to Krushkov. It slid on the ice and caught Krushkov on his damaged ankle.

Krushkov winced, but appeared more stunned by Zak's unexpected move. Zak raised his hands.

Romero and Ubogu climbed out of the ship to find Zak with his hands up. They grabbed their guns, but did not raise them. `Boss!' shouted Romero. `We've got to go. Come on!'

Krushkov ignored him. He turned to face Zak, and aimed his gun.

`You gave up your advantage too easily kid,' he sneered. `I haven't given up my advantage. I've won already,' said Zak.

Krushkov looked at him with amusement. `How's that?' he said. `I could shoot you down in a second.' `If only you could watch my personal video record, and see what I've done,' said Zak.

Concern appeared on Krushkov's face. `What do you mean? What have you done?' he demanded. `I've sabotaged your mission. It's going to fail,' said Zak confidently.

Krushkov's face tightened, and his moustache twitched, causing frost that had formed on it to glisten under the lights. `Impossible!' he bellowed. `What have you done?'

Zak could see Romero and Ubogu running wearily towards them. `Tell me, or I'll kill you,' said Krushkov. `You're going to kill me anyway,' said Zak.

The moustache twitched again. `Okay. Tell me, and I won't kill you.'

Zak stared Krushkov in the eyes. He was sure that time had run out on him. He desperately hoped that Romero and Ubogu were thinking the same.

The two men approached Krushkov from behind. `Sorry boss,' said Romero. `We have got to go.'

Romero grabbed Krushkov's gun, while Ubogu picked him up and hauled him over his shoulder. `What do you think you're doing?' roared Krushkov.

They ran back towards the docking area, Krushkov yelling protests and trying to break Ubogu's grip.

Zak waved at them. `Safe journey!' he called.

Krushkov's protests became inaudible to Zak as the men dropped down into their ship, and the docking bay floor panels slid shut.

The cargo hold door burst open, and in rushed Herbet followed by several crew. `We'd better check the container, just to be sure,' shouted Zak, pointing to it.

`Yes, we've come prepared,' said Herbet.

Two crew members with crowbars climbed up to the container. `Let's get a camera on the hijackers,' said Zak.

The giant image on the wall switched to show an external view, and the countdown retreated into the top right. The walls were riddled with bullet holes, and stacks of containers blocked some of the view, but the image was clear enough.

The hijackers' ship detached itself from the Colossus, fired its rockets and pulled away. The external camera followed it, but it quickly shrank to a tiny dot, then became too small to be seen.

The countdown reached two minutes.

More people arrived in the cargo hold, eager to help. Zak lowered himself to the floor, and sat awkwardly.

Herbet and Caviana's father rushed over to him. `Are you really alright Zak?' said Herbet. `He has been exceedingly brave,' said Caviana's father. `The doctor is on his way here,' said Herbet. `The environmental settings are returning to normal.'

Zak took deep breaths as he became more aware of the pain in his leg, and concentrated on staying calm and conscious. He could hear the two crewmen hacking away at the container, but it was proving tough to open. Before he knew it, the countdown had reached one minute.

At that very moment, the giant image changed to show another scene. It contained a group of men wearing masks and holding machine guns, standing in front of the official flag of the MMM. The anthem that Zak had heard before played for a short while then faded out. The man at the front spoke slowly. `We, the Militant Mars Movement, take responsibility for destroying the passenger ship Colossus.'

The whacking of the container continued, but the speech was loud enough to be heard clearly. `The ship was one of many, bringing theiving corporations and their workers to Mars. Bringing them to plunder its natural wealth, and destroy its natural beauty.'

`It's a pre-recorded video, and they aren't the MMM,' mumbled Zak.

The man continued his speech, and the countdown reached single digits. The container lid was cracking, but stubbornly refused to break. All but the two men trying to break it were fixated on the video. `We vow to preserve the sanctity of the Mars environment, and defend it from…'

The video froze as the countdown hit zero.

There was a loud crack, and the container lid flew off. The men peered inside. `No bomb in here!' one of them declared with a big smile.

There was a collective gasp and sigh of relief.

Then he laughed. `There is something though. All our valuables!'

There was a huge bang and the ship shook. Everyone staggered and the crewmen were forced to jump from the container.

The giant image switched back to the external view. Out into space was a lengthening streak of debris, the remains of the hijackers' ship. The Colossus had been hit by a shockwave.

Zak realised it was all over. But instead of elation, he felt miserable. His strength was depleted, and his mind could no longer hold back what his body was screaming at him. `Tell everyone what you did Zak,' said Herbet.

Zak looked up from the floor at the crowd gathering around him.

He managed to pull a smile, and found the reserves to mumble an explanation. `The hijackers' had a container here, where they dumped everything they stole from us. Sato instructed the robots to swap it with an identical one in their ship that contained the bomb. The robots completed that. But I gave the robots another command, to repeat the last thing they did. So the robots swapped them back, and the hijackers didn't notice the change.'

Zak laughed weakly. `Even better,' he said, `they destroyed the robots, then primed the bomb on their ship.'

All around him had their jaws somewhere near the floor.

`He had to draw the hijackers away from the cargo hold,' said Herbet. `Which he achieved, but at great cost to himself.'

A doctor arrived and started to examine his legs. `He has lost a great deal of blood,' said the doctor. `We must get him to the Medical Centre immediately.'

Zak found himself lying on his back. `How were you able to keep going?' asked the doctor, leaning close. `Did you pump yourself full of painkillers?' `No,' whispered Zak. `I'm used to getting hurt.'

He had another chuckle to himself, then passed out.

*

10am SST Friday 18 January 2085 Three days later, the Colossus arrived at Mars and docked with the Mars One Space Station. Zak had spent the intervening time including the deceleration period confined to the Medical Centre at 23-I-R. When the time came for the passengers to leave the ship, he was finally let out.

Realising that he only had minutes to pack his things, he tried to rush back to his cabin. But the physical trauma had left him weak, and though the injury on his leg was healing fast, he could only hobble his way there. He arrived to find Skye waiting for him. `It's all done for you,' she said with a smile, pointing to his packed suitcase. `Thanks,' he said with surprise. `I know our lives are important and everything,' she said, `but I'm really glad you managed to save this.'

She held out her hand. Gran's ring was back in place. `Yeah,' said Zak. `You can count yourself lucky. If it had just been a robbery, they would have got away.'

Skye's smile became wily. `You killed them,' she said. `How does it feel?'

After all the praise he had received, this was the first suggestion that he may have done something wrong.

`I don't look at it that way. I haven't even thought about them.

They killed themselves really. They primed the bomb while it was on board their ship. They just didn't know that's where it was.' `I'm not worried,' she said. `You saved hundreds.'

So Skye was not put out. But would everyone be so accepting? `I want to give Tom a quick call,' he said. `I only had the chance to send him a short message.'

Skye tutted. `A quick call? Go on then.'

Zak sat down and checked the communication time to Earth. It read 9 minutes and 10 seconds. `Ah!' he said. `Oh hang on, he's left me a message.'

Zak played it back, with more than a little trepidation. He had made a request of Tom - would Tom have fulfilled it? A muscle-bound commando stood awkwardly in a jungle clearing, with a face that betrayed disappointment. The avatar system accentuated emotions, making it difficult to hide feelings. But the face managed to struggle into a smile. `Hi Zak. Sounds like you're still in hospital. I heard everything on the news, it's been the big story for the last few days. When I heard the ship was hijacked I was sure you'd be on the case. Then, when it was all over, the report came through that you'd foiled them.

Amazing.'

Zak wondered if that meant he had achieved fame already.

Bonus! `And what a great way to mark your arrival on Mars,' continued Tom, `by upsetting the planet's leading criminal fraternity. Life is going to get interesting to say the least.'

Zak gulped. The commando's dark expression returned. `So, you've decided not to come back,' said Tom, his voice croaking. `That's the end of the team then. I've let them know we're disbanding.' `Oh,' said Zak. The end of the team! He had thought Tom would just replace him. He suddenly felt guilty for ending an era. `But, it's not necessarily the end of your career,' continued Tom. `I've done what you asked, and got you the cheat for the Mars network. Yeah, I asked around, and someone acquired it for me.'

As Tom spoke, the code appeared in large type, running across the wall. `Yes!' shouted Zak. He knew Tom could get it, but worried he might withold it from him. `You know, it's going to be difficult for you in the Mars League.

It's a different style of play, as you'll find out. But here's a challenge for you can you make it to No.1 in the rankings? Be the best on Mars? If you can do that by the time you're old enough to come back, then maybe you'll have a chance. And just because we can only video message doesn't mean I won't be following you and hassling you.'

The talk of rankings seemed to jolt Tom's avatar back into its usual lively self. It pointed determinedly at Zak, and Tom's voice came with passion. `I'll never be as good as you, so my dream is to see you become a champion. Don't let me down!'

With that, the message ended. `What a snivelling, insecure little idiot,' said Skye. `You're better off a million miles away from him.'

Zak couldn't be bothered to argue with Skye. Tom's challenge exactly matched his own aspiration for this planet to conquer it.

The cabin door opened, and Dad poked his head around it. `Time to go,' he said. `You can leave the cases, they'll be taken separately.'

Zak and Skye got up to leave. `Hey Zak,' said Dad cheerily, `everyone is talking about your heroics. You're going to be a very popular lad. I bet you're glad I dragged you along now eh?'

Zak smiled. `We'll see.' `Well, I can't say this with your Mum around,' said Dad, `but I'm very proud of you.' `Yeah?' said Zak. `Yes. I should have been more supportive of you. So if you want to play V-Commando, that's fine with me. Play it all you like! I'll do whatever I can to help you succeed.' `Wow, thanks Dad,' said Zak, amazed at this breakthrough.

`Hey, I hope we're not going to have any favourites around here,' said Skye. `But you don't need any help Skye, you haven't got an ambition,' said Dad dismissively. `Oh right,' said Skye, raising her hands in disbelief.

They left the cabin for the reception hall, to take the pod. They arrived to find a queue stretching almost entirely around the hamster wheel. Mum and Dad had to join it at the back, but Zak was offered a seat on the bench. All the passengers knew that Zak had saved the day, and were aware of his injuries. Skye sat with him.

A man in a crisp blue blazer approached. `Hello Zak,' he said. `Hello Mr. Herbet,' said Zak. `We have a lot to thank you for,' said Herbet sincerely. `Yeah. Maybe we could have stopped it happening in the first place,' said Zak. `Perhaps,' said Herbet. `But we're not allowed to spy on people.

Geremi would have been in big trouble for granting you that access.'

Zak looked at him in disgust. `I'm very sorry Zak. I wish it had been me,' said Herbet. `I didn't do my job properly.'

Zak's gaze dropped. It was Herbet's first expression of regret over Geremi. `We've found a new home for Rocky,' said Herbet hesitantly. `Oh,' said Zak, perking up. `Where?' `The Ambassador has volunteered to adopt him. Or should I say the Ambassador was adopted by him.' `That's a great idea!' shouted Zak in delight. `In fact, it looks like the man himself wants to talk to you. I had better go. I hope we'll meet again one day.' `Thanks Monsieur Herbet,' said Zak.

Herbet laughed, and saluted him. `Skye! Zak!' It was Caviana, accompanied by her father, who strode up enthusiastically. `Zak,' he said, shaking Zak's hand. `I have not had the chance to thank you. Your bravery saved us all.'

Zak shrugged, to play it down.

The Ambassador waffled on about how he would be honoured, but Zak had his ear on the girls' conversation. `They finally sorted out the valuables,' said Skye. `I got the ring back.' `That is wonderful,' said Caviana. `We had sentimental items of our own that had been taken from our cabin. We have many reasons to thank Zak.'

They both turned and smiled at him. He smiled back with unease. `It's such a shame you're going to live in a different city,' said Skye. `Yes,' said Caviana with sadness, `three thousand kilometres away.'

That sounded far. Zak wondered what transport was like on Mars. `But we shall play together,' said Caviana. `What is that game you were recommending?' `Park Party,' said Skye. `We'll team up and meet loads of people.'

Zak wouldn't be seen dead playing Park Party. He suspected Skye knew this.

The Ambassador finally finished. Zak muttered `yes' even though he hadn't heard any of it. `There is some good news,' said Caviana. `Father will be visiting your city frequently as part of his duties, so perhaps I could stay with your family.' `Of course you can,' said Skye. `I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind.' She turned to Zak. `What about you Zak? Do you mind if Caviana stays?'

Zak could hardly speak. `Er… no,' he said. `That's great.'

Caviana glanced back and forth at both of them in bewilderment. `But Zak I thought you were going straight back to Earth?' `No. I've decided to stay on Mars.' `Oh!' said Caviana, nervously. `What made you change your mind?'

`Well, I suppose I was being selfish,' said Zak uncertainly, reluctant to go into a full explanation; which was that the death and danger of the hijack had revealed to him something he'd never realised - that he loved his family. And so he had accepted Caviana's challenge also. He would still pursue his dream, but would do it differently.

Caviana lurched forward and threw her arms around him, pinning him back against the seat. It was a tight hug, and not a short one. `I would love to meet you again,' she said, and laughed. `You will have to tell me how you are progressing at that horrible game of yours.' `Do you realise how uncomfortable I feel right now?' he said, referring to his unease, rather than her suffocating embrace.

Finally she released him, and gave him a quick kiss right on the lips. `I hope that makes you feel more comfortable,' she said.

Zak wondered if the artificial gravity had suddenly switched off.

His head was floating around the hamster wheel. He hardly noticed her say goodbye.

He gazed as Caviana and her father were escorted to the front of the queue, and onto the next available pod. `He seems like a useful guy to know.'

Zak dropped out of dreamland with a bump. It was Ragboy, with his two bruising brothers. Skye stood up to face them off, but Zak remained seated. `Ragboy,' he said. `How did you get out of the restaurant?' `I sneaked through the kitchen. The guards were in a right state by the end, you were driving them nuts.' `You nearly ruined my plan. I had to break my cover,' said Zak. `Yeah? Well you left me to die,' said Ragboy. `So what are you, a ghost?' said Zak. `The doctors fixed me up. Apparently we were next to each other in the Medical Centre. But we were both conked out on drugs.' `Good,' said Zak, `or you would have tried to lead me on an escape.'

Ragboy laughed.

`You know Zak, you're alright,' he said. `You saved me from those hijackers.'

Zak was taken aback. It was a genuine attempt at gratitude. He remembered that at some point, he had thought of something good to say about Darren Thorne. `Hey Ragboy, I realised something.' `What's that?' `Without you, I would never have stopped them.'

Now Ragboy was taken aback, as if that was the first complimentary thing anyone had ever said to him. `Yeah,' he said enthusiastically. `We're a team! Next time, we'll stick together.' `Next time!' choked Zak. `We won't be doing this again, but give me your number, I have a game you might like to play. `Cool,' said Ragboy. `And I promise I'll never make fun of your girlfriend again.' `We'd better get going,' said Skye urgently. `Mum and Dad are nearly at the pod.'

Before she finished her words, the contact details were exchanged. Frustrated, she pulled Zak to his feet, and dragged him towards the pod. `Before you ask,' she whispered. ` They can't stay.'

Zak pushed through the pain barrier to keep up with Skye. `Hurry up,' said Mum. `It's about to leave any second.'

Skye shoved Zak into the pod and squeezed in herself, just as the pod door was shutting. Zak cried out as he fell sideways onto the seat.

They strapped themselves in, and the outer door closed, leaving the pod in darkness.

Zak let out a loud exhausted sigh. `You see what guns do Zak,' said Mum. `I hope you're going to give up that violent game, now you've experienced the reality.' `You must be joking!' said Zak. `I wanna play it more than ever.

It's so much simpler than real life. You have a gun, you shoot the enemy. No complications!'

In the dimness, Zak could see Mum shaking her head. The pod accelerated and decelerated, and Zak felt his body turning over.

`Zak,' continued Mum, `however you feel about moving to Mars, and remember it's not something I would have chosen, we are starting a new life there. You must grasp that, and not spend your time looking back.' `Yes Mum,' said Zak. He didn't want to argue about it now. He wasn't sure if she could ever come round to his point of view, but at some point he would make the effort to explain it, to try and make her understand.

The pod emerged from the tunnel, and into a windowed chute, not unlike the one they arrived in. At the end of the chute was the space station, similar but smaller to Earth One. The big difference was the view. Ahead of them loomed a giant orange globe Mars.

Over the past few weeks he had seen many sights the likes of which he had not seen before. But this one topped them all. The difference with Earth could not be more striking. There were no clouds, no blue water and no green land. The ashen orange surface could be seen unbroken. It looked every bit the barren wasteland he had once condemned. `It's amazing,' he said involuntarily. His words were met with a chorus of agreement.

He scanned for the cities, but couldn't spot any sign of development, because by the scale of the planet it was still so small.

The environment looked pristine from up here. Yet down on that surface, dramas were being played out that had culminated in the attack on the Colossus.

Despite all he had experienced in recent months, Zak was bursting with fear and excitement. `This is one hell of a planet!' he declared.

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