Helium 3.0

Helium 3.0 - Chapter 2

He found a scooped-out depression in the deck plate and gripped it as tightly as Loren had gripped his hand, then he lay in a heap, stars spinning before his eyes.  The dizziness cleared and he found himself face down, staring over the edge of the dart's airlock at a cluster of stars.

Hastily, he scrambled further back.  He hauled himself upright to find Loren crumpled in a heap at the back of the airlock, both hands fastened round a grab-handle.  He helped her climb shakily to her feet.

'That wasn't so bad,' she said.  But through the curve of her visor, Mervyn caught the green shade of her chima, and knew she was lying.

Before the dart's outer doors even snapped shut, the Trader had already uncoupled the gravity net.  Belatedly, after a slow compression, the dart’s inner door opened to reveal a sumptuously decorated hallway; wooden panelled walls, paintings of Ethrigian heroes chasing each other across the ceiling; lavishly upholstered sofas, interspersed with delicate tables, their spindly-legs buried in deep-pile carpets.

Two figures stood waiting for them.  Mervyn removed his helmet.

'Welcome,' intoned a distinguished Ethrigian Mervyn recognised. 'I am Lord Tivolli.  Welcome to my yacht.'  He gestured to a dark-skinned youth standing uncomfortably a step behind him, 'May I introduce my eldest son, and heir, Tarun.'  The youth looked about Mervyn's own age with tawny brown hair and brown eyes.

The youth bowed low, "At your service," he said formally.

"Tarun is joining your intake at the Academy.  I am sure you will have much to share."  Tarun's chima blushed pink, but his face broke into an engaging smile, and Mervyn felt an instant warmth towards the young aristocrat.

"Hi, I'm Mervyn and this is my friend Loren."  They shook hands, Loren successfully managing to affect an air of self-confidence as though she jumped ship every day, though Mervyn noticed she hid her spare hand behind her back where it continued to tremble.

Lord Tivolli led the way to the dart's observation room where refreshments awaited the guests.  Mervyn gazed longingly at the squishy sofas as they strode past - such luxury on a spaceship.

Tarun broke the silence, 'I am really looking forward to the Academy - do you think we could be friends?'

Loren glanced sidelong at Tarun, 'You want to be friends with Outworlders?'

'You've seen the news reports then?  It's just stupidity."

'The demonstrators in Ethrigia city don't think so," Mervyn said.

'It's probably just another stunt by Lord De Monsero.  He likes to stir up the people for his own ends - it gives him leverage with the ruling Patriarch.'

They past a giant painting of the Ethrigian solar system.  Now it was Mervyn's turn to frown, 'What's De Monsero got against me?'

'Lots.  For a start you're an Outworlders, and a human one at that.  De Monsero hates Outworlders.  You also won one of our scholarships and De Monsero has an intense dislike for anything my family does.'

Mervyn grinned, 'I know, I beat his son, Rufus, in the scholarship race.  He wasn’t best pleased.'

'There's also the small matter of De Monsero hating your father.  De Monsero lost a stack of money when your father...,' Tarun's voice trailed off as though afraid he was embarrassing his guest.  He shrugged his shoulders, 'well you know.'

Mervyn knew exactly what Tarun meant.  He remembered the arguments, the divisions, and the votes when the Mining Federation claimed its independence from Ethrigia.  He was too young to vote, of course; no one had asked for his decision, he hardly even had an opinion about it, but he was labelled just the same.  And now he would have to fight that stigma, as well, at the Academy.  It was so unfair.  Sometimes he hated his father, not for what he was, but for what he had done.