Free Space Plague by Zac Harrison Page B

you find a nebula-diving pod. They’ll be in the storage bay. I’ll get us a ship.”
    “Can’t we just be quick and grab the first one we see?”
    Mordant rolled his eyes. “Use your brain,” he said. “We need a ship with a docking system we can attach the pod to, and that can carry us a long way into the nebula. A nebula-diving pod can only last about thirty minutes in a core before beginning to degrade, so the closer we get, the better. By my calculations, the ship will have to withstand temperatures of more than two thousand degrees. Plus, Hyperspace High is in quarantine. We’re surrounded by the Galactic Fleet. We need something super-fast or we won’t stand a chance of outrunning them.”
    John nodded. For the first time, it occurred to him that there might be some advantages to working alongside Mordant Talliver. Whatever else he might be, the half-Gargon was fiercely intelligent: a walking encyclopaedia of facts and figures.
    “Which ship?” John asked.
    “I don’t know yet.”
    “Oh.”
    Mordant gave him a sharp look. “You just worry about the nebula-diver. I’ll find us a ship.”
    “Deck three.” The TravelTube’s doors opened. John stuck his head round the corner. Deck three housed the third-year dormitories and additional canteens. At the end of the corridor an Examiner passed, herding a group of students to their rooms.
    “Get back,” John hissed, pushing Mordant in the chest to stop him running out into the passage. He peered around again. The Examiner had passed. “Coast’s clear!” he announced.
    “Now!” said Mordant, pushing G-Vez out of the TravelTube, in the direction of the Examiners. As G-Vez drifted down the corridor, Mordant breathed, “Let’s not hang about here,” and dashed off towards the hanger deck.
    John was surprised at how easy it was to get to the hangar deck unseen. Hyperspace High seemed almost completely deserted. He and Mordant had to stop once as some Meteor Medics passed, but they were obviously on their way to a new case of the flu and showed no interest in the two fugitives. After dashing down emergency stairs and rarely used corridors, the unlikely pair was soon standing outside a set of vast, heavily bolted double doors that led onto the main hangar.
    “Locked!” John fumed, bending over the electronic keypad. “I should have known. The ship’s in quarantine; no craft is allowed to leave.”
    “It’s not a problem,” Mordant said, pushing past. To John’s amazement, he tapped the keypad rapidly. Immediately, bolts slid back. And with a clank of metal, the doors opened.
    “How on Earth did you do that?”
    Mordant glanced back over his shoulder as he strode through the doors. “I have my ways.”
    “But that’s a high-security code.”
    “Just get the pod, John. I’ll meet you in ship bay gamma.” Mordant strode away in the direction of the ship bays, where Hyperspace High’s spacecraft were kept when not in use.
    Pausing to close the doors behind them, John raced away in the opposite direction. Fortunately, with all access to the hangar deck sealed off, no one had bothered to lock the storage area. John opened it, pulling out his ThinScreen to double-check what he was actually looking for. He had never seen a nebula-diving pod before. Inside the storage area were Hyperspace High’s smallest ships – star surfers, speed racers, and observation chambers, stacked neatly in rows. John started searching the first row. He found what he was looking for at the end of the third.
    The pod was a simple-looking machine. Resembling a large bullet made of shining silver, it was about three metres long with small engines at the rear, stubby wings, a domed cockpit, and small suction holes for particle collection near its nose. The Hyperspace High logo was emblazened across its shell in red letters. From his quick ThinScreen cram session, John knew it was a fully independent craft able to operate in regions that would fry any normal ship. It carried