Trouble on Agla 5 (Troubleshooters 11)

By Dr E J Yeaman

Hi. I’m Tony. Bea (my girl cousin) and I are agents – Troubleshooters – of the Galactic Federation. This mission started when Bea was snatched from our granny’s house during the family party for my thirteenth birthday. Searching for her, I followed a trail to the pirate base on Hallixia 10, and to the chemist’s shop of a secret agent on the planet Agla 5. On the way, I found out why Bea had been kidnapped – and that wasn’t good news for me.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dr E J Yeaman
• Release date: Apr 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311704191

Dr E J Yeaman

I retired (early) and started a new career as a writer. I wrote short stories and articles. Some were published; some won prizes; some sank without trace.Having heard my stories, two friends suggested I should write for children. I’d never thought of that, although I’d spent my first career communicating with young people – as a Chemistry teacher, and running clubs for badminton, chess, table tennis and hillwalking.I tried writing for young people – and I loved it. It became my main occupation. I sent samples to publishers. One asked to see a complete story. In excitement, I sent it off. Then nothing. After four months, I rang, and was told the manuscript was being considered: I would be notified. Then more nothing. Now, after eight years, I no longer rush to the door when the letter box rattles.But I kept writing the stories because I enjoyed it so much. Until, in late 2013, I learned I could publish my stories and games as e-books. Since then, I’ve been polishing and issuing some of them. I hope everyone enjoys reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.Check out the series:C: Charades – party game – a new twist to the traditional game.D: Diagags – party game – gags written as plays for two people.M: My Story – novels – classical stories, told by the heroes.O: One-Offs – party game – guess the titles, not quite the classical ones.P: Pop Tales – short stories – inspired by 60s and 70s hit songs.Q: Quote-Outs – word games – can you deduce the missing words?S: Inside Story – novels – a boy’s adventures inside classical stories.T: Troubleshooters – novels – space adventures for young people.

Book preview

TROUBLE ON AGLA 5

0

IS THAT THE GIRL?

The Bean and I put on breathing masks and faced the door of the spaceship. Open. It slid aside, and we went out to the spaceport of the planet Yband 4. The sun never shines there, but the planet Yband 5 hung high in the sky like a huge moon, flooding everything with pale light. A few ships – like big black boxes – threw sharp shadows. We started towards Federation headquarters, a flat-topped, one-storey grey building.

A scream rang out – loud although it was muffled by a breathing mask. A man in a dark grey uniform was dragging a struggling little girl into a ship while another man backed towards them, covering the airlock door of the headquarters with a nerve-gun.

Spaceships travel through the fourth dimension. They ‘take off’ by disappearing, and ‘land’ by appearing – silently. We’d landed behind the men, so they didn’t know we were there. I sprinted towards them, pulling my stun-gun from its clip at my waist.

The backing one was nearer. Maybe he heard my feet on the gravel: he started to turn. By that time, I was in stun-gun range. He fell.

I ran for his ship as the door slid shut with the other man and the girl inside. About five steps from the door, I called, Open. It didn’t. He’d had time to lock it.

Tony! called the Bean. Wait there. She ran to the airlock doors while I watched the ship. If it was going to take off, we couldn’t stop it.

After a few seconds, it shimmered and disappeared. I walked to the unconscious body and picked up his nerve-gun.

The airlock door hummed open, bringing the Bean and two Federation agents. Their uniforms, like grey tracksuits, had the pale green bands of Investigators round the chest and cuffs. Their names were on the chest bands. Fordyce and Jason.

Fordyce asked, Is this an emergency?

Not now, I answered. The ship’s gone.

Then let’s go inside, where we can talk properly, without these masks.

He and Jason carried the body through an airlock to the waiting room, where they dumped it on the nearest seat. The guy must be important: his uniform – dark grey with a white Y on the chest – had two white stars on each sleeve, and his face had a sneer, even with his eyes shut.

Fordyce asked, Tony, what’s your job? I’ve never seen uniforms with dark green bands.

The Bean and I had just finished our training as agents of the Galactic Federation. I told him, We’re a new team – Troubleshooters.

He waved at the body. Is this part of a job?

No. We’re on our way home on holiday. Fordyce, would you report this? Then we can go.

He shook his head. You can’t do that. Wellington will want to question you about it.

That’s why I want to get away. Wellington will ask us endless questions.

He’s the Commander of the Investigators. It’s his job to ask endless questions.

He doesn’t like me – and I don’t like him. He’ll blame me for not stopping them snatching the girl.

Fordyce frowned, and the Bean began, Tony, we can’t sneak away. We…. Oh, oh. Wellington’s tall figure appeared in the entrance of the waiting room. As he pushed through the crowds towards us, she muttered in my ear, Tony, please keep calm.

Wellington glared down at me. You! Were you involved in this incident?

Yes.

I understand that a girl was taken away in a ship. What was the number of the ship?

411777.

I suspected it might be. He sighed and seemed to shrink as if the sigh had let a lot of air out of him. He turned to Fordyce and Jason. Fix the prisoner in a chair, revive him and bring him to my office immediately. He turned to us. You two, come to my office.

I opened my mouth to tell him we were going on holiday. Looking at his face, I decided that wasn’t a good idea. I followed him.

Like all Federation offices, Wellington’s has a U of seats facing the terminal of Victor, the computer. Wellington took his command chair, at the bottom of the U. Sit. The Bean and I sat on the edge of the settee that made the arm of the U to his left.

Wellington’s voice was quieter than usual as he said, Tell me what happened.

When I finished, he asked, Do you know who owns ship 411777?

No. Won’t Victor tell you?

I don’t need Victor to tell me. I know whose ship it is. It is mine. Victor, wake. Display the picture of Elizabeth.

On Victor’s screen appeared a picture of a little girl who looked about 10. She had a friendly smile and bright eyes. Wellington asked, Is that the girl?

It could be, I said. The mask hid most of her face, but she has the same dark hair.

He turned to the Bean. Did you see her?

Not any better than Tony. He was nearer.

Wellington asked in a dull voice, Do you know who that is?

No. But I could guess.

She is my daughter, my only child. He looked down.

I forgot my holiday. I forgot I didn’t like Wellington. I only saw a man who was desperately worried about his daughter. I asked, Can we help to find her?

He took a breath and looked up, more like the usual bossy Wellington. That is why I ordered you here. You will help me to question the one you captured.

Young people from Earth can sense the feelings of people from other planets. I happen to be good at that, so Wellington sometimes calls me to help question prisoners.

Fordyce and Jason brought the guy in with his ankles and right wrist clamped to a wheelchair. His left arm was free so he could use his wrist unit – like a watch with a screen.

Wellington ordered, Set him to face this agent. He waved a hand towards me.

I started to speak, but Wellington was louder, shouting at the prisoner, You will answer my questions. But the prisoner wasn’t listening to the translation: the wrist unit was down.

Wellington shouted at the prisoner, Use the wrist unit.

The wrist unit stayed down.

I’m trying to tell you, I said. It’s not ‘him’. It’s ‘her’.

A woman? asked Wellington. Are you sure? The prisoner looked like a man, in the grey uniform and a short haircut.

I think so, Women’s feelings are softer than men’s. It’s hard to explain, and it was hard to tell about this prisoner because her mind was tough like a man’s.

Wellington growled at the Bean, What is your opinion?

I’m not as good as Tony at sensing minds, but I think he’s right.

Humph! Well, he or she is going to answer my questions.

She wouldn’t use a wrist unit, so Fordyce and Jason clamped her left wrist to the chair and, with a struggle, strapped the wrist unit to her head beside her left ear.

Wellington began, You were one of the group who kidnapped a girl at the spaceport here. Her wrist unit spoke the translation in her language.

No answer.

I said, Yes. I didn’t add she was pleased she’d done it.

Do you know who I am?

No answer.

I said, Yes.

Wellington stared in silence at the woman, who stared back at him with a smug smile on her lips and a smug feeling in her mind.

I asked, Did you know the girl you kidnapped was Wellington’s daughter?

No answer, but the smug feeling grew. I told Wellington, Yes, then asked the woman, "Did you kidnap her because she’s Wellington’s daughter?"

No answer, but I told Wellington, Yes.

Were you planning to hold her for ransom?

She thought that was funny. I was puzzled until the reason hit me. I realised why Wellington hadn’t asked these questions. But we had to find out. I glanced at Wellington’s glowering face, then asked the woman, Did you kidnap Wellington’s daughter to… to try to force him to do something?

No answer, but that removed the amusement.

Yes, I told Wellington.

He snapped, Thank you, at me, then went on with the questioning. Where has the girl been taken? Hallixia 10?

No answer.

No, I said.

No! exclaimed Wellington. Where else would they take her?

Don’t ask me that. But I don’t think it’s Hallixia 10.

Nonsense! Ask her again.

I faced the woman. Do you think the girl’s been taken to Hallixia 10?

No answer.

I told Wellington, I’m pretty sure it’s not Hallixia 10, but she thinks Hallixia 10 is important. Could it be another planet near Hallixia 10?

No. Have you never heard of Hallixian pirates?

No.

Did you not learn anything during your training? Victor, wake. Tell this child about the pirates of Hallixia 10.

The answer came from the terminal in a man’s voice. Hallixia 10 is a peaceful member of the Federation. But a gang of criminals have a base at the south pole of the planet, and the true Hallixians are not strong enough to drive them out. They call themselves pirates, and can be hired for any crime in this part of the Galaxy – kidnapping, hi-jacking, murder. If no one hires them, they do it for themselves.

Wellington said, For your information, agent, that is the uniform of a Hallixian pirate. No doubt she was thinking of the two parts of the planet, and you made a stupid mistake.

I was sure I was right but, if I said so, he would just shout at me, so I let him go on with his questioning. He insisted on learning her name, and I had to do that a sound at a time. Bo-Gwarric.

After more than two hours, I leaned back, wiping my forehead. I’m sorry. I can’t take any more.

Wellington yelled, We shall continue the questioning.

It won’t do any good. I’m knackered. Mind-sensing needs a lot of concentration.

We shall continue. We must learn everything she can tell us.

"We have learned everything she can tell us."

Humph! He’d been pacing back and forth as he asked the questions, but he sank onto the command chair. We shall resume tomorrow.

Tomorrow? I said. We’re supposed to be on holiday.

We shall continue tomorrow.

I wouldn’t mind giving up my holiday to continue tomorrow if I thought it would do any good. But it won’t. We won’t learn any more.

The glare he gave me was like the old Wellington, but it faded as he leaned back and waved towards the door. Go.

The Bean and I went. At the door, she turned to say, Wellington, I do hope you find your daughter safe.

The only answer was a dismal, Humph.

1

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU.

I ran up the drive and opened the front door of Granny Harrison’s house. It moved a little and bumped against something soft. I put my shoulder to it, and it moved a bit more. I stuck my head through the gap to find out what was jamming it – and saw the body of my nine-year-old cousin, Sara.

I dropped the box of ice cream and squeezed through. She was breathing, and her pulse was strong, but I couldn’t waken her.

Our family had gathered at Granny Harrison’s. My birthday was in five days, but nobody mentioned that. Granny sent me out for ice cream. That was an excuse. When I came back, I’d find them all in the lounge, laughing and singing, Happy Birthday to You.

Instead of that, I found Sara, unconscious, behind the front door, and the house silent.

I ran across to the lounge door, dreading what I’d find.

On the coffee table stood my cake, decorated in red on white: Tony 13. The whole family were sprawled round it, some on chairs, some on the floor. Granny Harrison, my uncle Simon, Dad, Mum, my little sister Susan, the Bean’s mum and dad and her three-year-old brother Roy.

No.