One Star Away

By Karl Thorn

This story is a sequel to ‘Bond Beyond Measure’ and a prequel to ‘Freighter’s Prize’.
Patric is now a teenager living in an orphanage. He and his alien friend, Quinton, set out on a journey to find his father. All they find is trouble.
Only then do their special abilities show.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Karl Thorn
• Release date: Nov 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311549662

Karl Thorn

Technical Support Engineer Two degrees in electronics

Book preview

One Star Away

By Karl Thorn

Published by Karl Thorn at Smashwords

Copywrite 2014 Karl Thorn

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes.

ONE STAR AWAY

CHAPTER ONE

Maybe the next one, Patric whispered to Quinton in the middle of the night. He ducked his head back behind the lush purple bush that grew along the paved taxiway. Like most plants on Cimeron, the bush used retinal instead of chlorophyll to process the sun’s energy. It was within two feet of the road and provided more cover than anywhere else along the route of the automated cargo carrier. Shouldn’t be long now.

They had a good vantage point for the entire spaceport complex. To the left, Patric could see the warehouse, hanger and small control tower across the purple meadow. He expected the next cargo transport to exit the warehouse.

Looking to the right, Patric could see the six landing pads and the single runway that ran between the pads. Currently an old beat up freighter sat on one of the pads on the east side of the runway while the planet’s transport shuttle occupied a second pad on the west side. Patric knew the shuttle was currently ferrying passengers and cargo to a luxury liner that was in orbit.

The passenger liner was Patric’s target.

He had been watching the spaceport for weeks now; through sun shine, rain and starlight, learning the routes and routines of the facility’s traffic. The vegetation was still moist from the daily rain. Fortunately, today, it had cleared up by evening.

Tonight was the final night that cargo would be lifted to the passenger liner. It was going to Yeltson. It would be several months before another ship would be heading that way. Patric didn’t want to wait any longer. He was just one star away from finding his father. He wasn’t going to miss this chance.

Patric peered around the purple bush again. The robot cargo carrier had left the building and turned toward them. The canister it carried was marked with the symbol that Patric was looking for. It indicated the container would be placed in a pressurized cargo hold. Whatever was in it, was sensitive to vacuum. This crate would remain pressurized the whole trip into space. It would be safe for a couple of stowaways.

Here it comes. Patric whispered. Get ready.

The pink five legged quintapod crawled up Patric's tall slender body and onto his shoulder. Quinton wrapped one octopus leg under Patric's long black hair and around his neck. He hooked another leg under Patric's arm pit while the other three clamped onto Patric's shoulder and backpack that he carried. He gave Patric a soft whistle, stating he was ready for the leap. Quinton’s smooth, bulbous body was about the same size as the backpack and weighed as much. He had a faint purple diamond pattern to his pink skin. When he stood on all five he was about three and a half feet tall.

Quinton clung to Patric’s shoulder while he waited behind the bush. The automated hauler, carrying the canister, passed their location. Patric ran at full speed and leaped for the container. He tried to meet the cargo canister at optimum height, but with the weight of Quinton and the backpack, his jump fell short. He stretched with both arms and managed to clutch onto a locking pin with one hand. He hung precariously over the side while the robot moved quickly toward its destination. His free hand swung wildly.

Quinton squealed in his ear, hanging on for dear life.

Patric grimaced and swung his loose arm at another locking pin. His fingers hit the pin, but slipped off. On his second try he stretched his arm a little further and managed to wrap his fingers around it. He hung there a moment taking a deep breath. His shoulders screamed with pain.

Quinton reached up with a tentacle, found a ledge and crevice to grab hold of. Using Patric’s head as a step, he pulled himself on top of the canister. He whistled and lowered an arm to Patric while planting his other four legs. He wrapped his tentacle around Patric’s wrist and helped him to the top of the cargo container. Quinton was deceptively stronger than his soft pliable body would suggest.

Both took a moment to rest on top of the canister in the dim lighting of the spaceport.

Cimeron was a poor remote planet that recently joined the Free Worlds Organization. The marooned crew and passengers of the doomed passenger liner were the first permanent human inhabitants. Years later, they were discovered by an FWO survey ship. Most of the people had decided to stay on the planet since they had established a pleasant way of life. The orphaned children were forced to stay as well.

Troubles with the Czarian pirates continued to plague the FWO. Cimeron didn't have the money nor the resources to build their own spaceport. The FWO had built this complex to be used by the military fleet as an emergency landing site. They did allow the Cimeron residents to use the port as long as they agreed to maintain it to military standards. They gladly accepted the offer. The facility provided the infrastructure for commercial and private commerce they badly needed. Business was growing at a much slower rate then they had hoped. If only the piracy issue could be resolved then business would pick up substantially.

The Czarian pirates were the only beings in the universe Patric truly hated. He and his mother could be on Yeltson now with his dad if they hadn’t attacked the ship. It grieved Patric every time he thought about it. They had changed his life and presumably killed his mother.

Patric thought, now that he was fifteen, he was able to search for his father. His mother had not been found as one of the survivors on the planet and listed as missing, presumed dead. The orphanage that he lived at was no help in finding his father either. He decided it was time to do it on his own. The last known location for his father had been Yeltson.

His feelings toward his father had fluctuated between grief, thinking his dad could be dead, or anger because he had never come looking for them. He realized the only way to deal with it was to put his feelings on hold until he could learn the truth. For the most part he had been successful.

The link with Quinton had helped in that regard. Patric could truly share his feelings with Quinton while touching each other. Quinton gave Patric the support, encouragement and understanding he needed.

Now they were going to learn the truth one way or the other.

Quinton chirped softly in Patric’s ear. The pink quintapod was the intelligent native to Cimeron. Only now were the local Humans beginning to recognize them to be more than just another inedible herd animal. Their tissue was too tough for human consumption, made mostly of cartilage, ligaments and organs with a thin layer of efficiently designed muscle, covered in a tough pliable skin. Patric knew from his first day on the planet that quintapods were sentient. Though quite intelligent they normally showed little interest in human activity and stayed away. Quinton was different. With his bond to Patric, he has grown quite curious of Human Beings.

I can do it. Patric answered Quinton’s whistle. He turned over and started to work on the cargo container’s top access hatch. I certainly can do it faster than you. He added while bypassing the locks on the canister's sealed hatch. This was one of the techniques he learned, knowing he would need it for this adventure.

The automated carrier never noticed the activity. It was happily doing its programmed task. The robot turned onto the main taxiway, heading for its assigned destination. They were now out in the open with no obstructions to block the view.

The hatch slid open with a whoosh. Patric's elation turned sour when he saw the canister was packed full. Only a few gaps existed between the items. He quickly tried to pull something out, but nothing would budge. Everything was securely fastened to the canister’s sides.

Quinton chirped something then slid down into a crevice.

I can't, I'm too big.

Patric looked up, realizing he was out in the open. The darkness helped to conceal him, but out here someone would soon notice. He frowned, took off the backpack and wedged it into a spot between the boxes at the top of the canister. He then slipped his legs into the same crack Quinton slid into. He began forcing his mid-section into the tight space. He made it all the way in, but only after exhaling all the air out of his lungs. He could only take shallow breaths. He moved his leg into a more comfortable position and accidentally kicked Quinton.

Quinton squealed.

Sorry. Patric barely whisper. He hated the confinement, recalling a ten year old memory of the cramped lifepod. He still had nightmares on how the restraining bar kept him in his seat and prevented him from making a big escape to find his mother. The emotions of that time returned with it. He willed himself to remain calm. Patric looked up and stared up at the stars through the open hatch. He had originally planned to close it, but now knew it would be impossible. He just hoped it wouldn't be noticed.

Patric desperately wanted to get aboard that ship and make it to Yeltson. Would his father still be there? And why had he not come looking for them? He refused to be angry with his dad until he knew the truth. He knew other orphans were bitter even if they knew their parents had died. Patric didn’t even have that knowledge for either of his parents though he now suspected his mom was dead. He had learned the passenger liner had rammed the pirate ship. That act had saved the lifepods from being captured, but it also told him that his mom was likely dead too.

The hauler slowed. Patric looked up in time to see the hull of a ship surround them. It was bigger than he would have expected for the shuttle. Patric heard mechanisms latch onto the locking pins. The hauler released the canister and backed out. The compartment became dark as the cargo bay’s hatch closed. Only a dim maintenance light lit the bay.

This was the last canister to be loaded? Patric puzzled. The closing of the hatch would suggest it. He thought there should have been several more.

Quinton chirped something.

I will as soon as we are aboard that ship. Patric answered. He wanted out of this spot too, but knew they had to stay here until the shuttle lifted and loaded them onto the passenger liner.

Quinton chirped again.

Only a few humans were trying to decipher the quintapod’s language. The bond with Quinton, had allowed Patric to pick up the language within the first few days and Quinton learned Standard just a quick. They could understand each other though neither had the ability to speak the other’s language.

No one believed Patric when he told them he already knew it. How could he know? They thought he was just pretending. However, they did allow Quinton to stay with him. If they hadn’t, he never would have agreed to go to the orphanage in the first place.

Patric did not know why Quinton befriended him that first day or why he chose to bond with him. Quintapods rarely bonded with each other and fewer still with other quintapods outside their herd. Patric was the first person outside the species to be bonded. Since then, he and Quinton had survived in the wilderness until the FWO found him with the pack of quintapods. He was placed in an orphanage like all the children they found running wild. Quinton willingly went with him.

Patric would admit that things had improved since the FWO arrived on Cimeron, but Patric still didn't trust them. They had promised many things, but delivered on very few. They always bragged to him about great opportunities that existed on the founding worlds of the FWO.