Read Galactic Battle Online

Authors: Zac Harrison

Tags: #978-1-4342-6569-2, #978-1-4342-7934-7, #Hyperspace High, #Zac Harrison, #Dani Geremia, #Stone Arch Books, #space, #aliens, #boarding school, #science fiction

Galactic Battle (10 page)

BOOK: Galactic Battle
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“Open fire!” John ordered.

Suddenly, the room lit up as if a box of fireworks had been accidentally set ablaze. The Hot Shots fired streaming, comet-like fireballs that exploded in showers of sparks when they struck a target. Waves of heat rippled in the air.

John gripped his weapon firmly, aimed for one of the high-scoring red stars, and fired. It erupted with crimson light, flashed 100 PTS, and reset itself.

I hit it!
came the stunned realization.
Bull's-eye!

Encouraged by his success, he aimed and fired at a few more. Two hits and one near-miss! It was a lot like playing laser tag back home on Earth, running around with his friends in a dark arena, taking shots at one another.

Dyfi was racking up hundreds of points, too. Now that she finally had a weapon she could hold properly, she was making up for lost time with a vengeance. John watched her slam heat pellets into target after target, without missing once.

“Aargh!” yelled Monix. “Can't we go back to using the LaserPros? I can't hit a thing with this stupid gun!” And as if to prove it, she let off a volley of shots that flew wide, missing the target and heading toward Dyfi.

Just as it seemed Dyfi would be obliterated, the target swiveled around and sucked the stray shots up into itself, using some sort of gravity field.

“Phew,” John said with relief. “Ton-3 was right. They did think of that.”

Tarope was doing badly, too. He'd only scored a few points and was getting frustrated, like he had with the LaserPros. “These targets are too small! How are we supposed to hit them?”

“Okay, you two,” John said to Tarope and Monix. “Let's go over the basics again. The important thing is to take your time. Breathe steadily, sight down the barrel, and . . .” He stopped.

Something smelled like it was burning. It was like when his dad left the bacon on the stove and forgot about it while he was doing the crossword in the paper.

“Can you smell that?” he asked Monix.

“Yes! Something's on fire . . . Oh no! TAROPE!”

“What?” Tarope said. “What's wrong?”

John stared, horrified, as little orange drops like runny candle wax fell from Tarope's arm. “Your skin's melting!”

“Aaaargh! Help!” Tarope squealed, dropping his Hot Shot and running around in a circle. “I need cooling before my whole skin peels off!”

“Zepp, send Meteor Medics to the Sonic Sports Hall. It's urgent!” called John.

In no time, two Meteor Medics charged into the room. Tarope was quickly scanned, lifted onto a force-field stretcher, and rushed to the door.

One of the medics paused for a moment. “Should I reserve hospital beds for the rest of you?” it asked darkly. “Two casualties in two days. I sense a dangerous pattern emerging.”

“Will Tarope be okay?” asked Dyfi anxiously.

“Tarope is a Mucosian,” the medic explained. “Extreme heat can trigger their skin-shedding cycle too early. They don't feel it, so it's more the shock than anything else. He'll be fine once we've dunked him in some chill-gel. But explain: how did he get exposed to extreme heat in the first place?”

“I know why,” Monix said, holding up Tarope's Hot Shot. “The safety on his weapon wasn't on.”

“Ton-3 should have told us —” started Dyfi.

“No,” John said hollowly. “I should have checked them. I'm the leader. It's my fault.”

Dark thoughts swirled in John's mind, as he watched Tarope being taken away.
I let my team down again.

CHAPTER 9

“Thank you, everyone!” said Ms. Vartexia, her huge blue head gleaming in the spotlight. “That was Loviata Quarmeen from year three, giving us her unforgettable rendition of last year's smash hit, ‘Warpgate to My Heart.' Show your appreciation!”

The students gathered in the Center all applauded. Loviata, who seemed to be made entirely from shifting shadows, took a bow and left the stage. Kaal had once told John in fearful tones that she only became visible in her sleep, and nobody who had seen her true shape would ever forget it again.

John had barely noticed the singing; he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts. If he was honest, he wasn't really in the mood for this, but he hadn't wanted to walk out on the team — the team he somehow had to pull together by tomorrow. The team that could not afford to get any more detentions.

He thought of the parents arriving by the hundreds, and the palms of his hands began to feel sweaty.

“That was awesome!” Dyfi said. “I can't believe I've never been to one of these before!”

“I love Cyber-Karaoke nights,” said Kritta, obviously enjoying herself, despite her bandaged foot. “They really bring the school together, don't you think?”

“I wish,” John said ruefully.

Although the Galactic Battle team was all together again, gathered at the Center along with everyone else for an evening of robot-assisted karaoke, he still hadn't seen Emmie anywhere.

Kritta looked concerned. “Still worried about Emmie?”

“Yeah.” John hated knowing that something was wrong, but not knowing how to fix it. “She's convinced Kaal and I did something to upset her, something dangerous. She won't talk to either of us. And now she doesn't turn up to a Cyber-Karaoke event? It's just not like her.”

Kaal agreed. “It doesn't seem like a real Cyber-Karaoke night until Emmie gets up and sings. I haven't heard her sing ‘Phosphene Girl' in forever. I raced over here from detention so I wouldn't miss it.”

“Okay! Next up is Lishtig ar Steero!” announced Ms. Vartexia.

Lishtig came bounding up to the stage, his huge mass of purple hair trailing behind him. He grabbed the microphone as if it were a LaserPro. “Cue up ‘Decimator' by Neutron Decay,” he instructed. “Playtime's over. It's time to get heavy!”

Kaal quickly passed around a bag of chewy proton pieces.

“No, thanks,” Dyfi said. “I don't like the taste.”

“Oh, they're not for eating,” Kaal said. “They're to stick in your ears.”

Dyfi looked confused. “Why would anyone want to —”

At that moment, a howl of feedback ripped through the room that made SonicArrows seem like whimpering puppies by comparison.

“Oh no,” Tarope said, and put his head between his knees as if he were bracing himself for a crash. “Here we go. Don't say we didn't warn you.”

Lishtig flung back his hair and made frenzied air guitar motions. “Yeeeeeeaaaaahhhhhhh!” he yelled. “One, two, three, FOUR . . .”

“Quick, give me some proton pieces before he starts singing,” Dyfi said. She got them in her ears just in time.

“I'M A SPACE-FUELED DECIMATOR AND GALACTIC TERMINATOR. SO DON'T ROCK THIS PLANET DEVASTATOR OR I'LL BE AN ETERNAL DOMINATOR!” roared Lishtig. The sounds blasting out of the Cyber-Karaoke speakers were like hurricane winds blowing through a sawdust factory. All around the Center, students covered their ears and made agonized expressions.

“I think I've gone deaf!” Kritta shouted over the noise.

Lishtig whipped his hair around, belting out the lyrics: “AS MIND ERASER AND LASER BLAZER, THIS COSMIC MASTER WILL BE YOUR PLASMA BLASTER . . .”

There was nothing they could do but wait for the horrible noise to end. It was uncannily like being trapped in the Defendroid containment cell. Eventually — in a thunderous, hair-thrashing crescendo — the song finished, leaving Lishtig standing alone on stage in the spotlight with his fist raised.

The students looked on in total silence, too stunned to clap. John and his team extracted the squished-up sweets from their ears.

“Thank you very much,” Lishtig's words echoed through the silent Center. “Check out my band, Max Destructo and the Sonic Death Armada, live in concert in the engineering bay next week. Peace out!”

Looking slightly dazed, Ms. Vartexia returned to the stage. “Well, I think we can all agree that was . . . different. Next up is Dol!”

As the dolphin-like P'Sidion girl took the microphone, Kritta gave John a nudge. “You should give it a try, too.”

“I don't think they have any Earth music,” he said. “I suppose I could ask, though.”

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Maybe some Earth music would make him feel better — and maybe embarrassing himself on stage was a small price to pay for a taste of home.

Dol blew some bubbles in her fishbowl-like helmet, which John suspected was her way of clearing her throat. “This song is called ‘Tik Tiki-kikkik, Ta Tikik Skeee Tik,'” she said. “And if you know the chorus, join in, everybody! Don't be shy!”

Strange sloshing, booming sounds gushed from the speakers, as if the microphone had been lowered into a washing machine.

Dol began to squeak and click, her eyes closed with emotion. John saw that Kritta had joined in, swaying gently from side to side and making clicking noises of her own.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying it, except John. He didn't even have a clue what the song was about.

That settled it.
I need to hear something I like,
he decided.
I've had more than enough of all this weird alien music! There has to be a song I can sing. Something that reminds me of home, that really puts its finger on how I'm feeling right now . . .

He thought back to his dad's CD collection and the songs they'd sung along to in the car. And he realized he knew the perfect song. It was staring him in the face.

The next few moments passed in a blur. He seemed to go from sitting with his team to talking to Ms. Vartexia to being up on stage in no time at all. The next thing he knew, he was standing in a dazzling spotlight with the microphone in his hand.

The piano chords began, almost unbearably sweet and familiar, and suddenly he was singing the opening lyrics to “Rocket Man” by Elton John.

It sounded so strange and simple after all that electronic, unearthly music, but to John it was like waking from a dream and finding himself back home. He closed his eyes — he knew the words by heart, anyway — and saw the familiar sights of home so clearly: his street, his house, his own room.

He could hear the excited voices of students around him: “This is new” . . . “never heard him sing before” . . . “what kind of an instrument makes a noise like that” . . . “so this is what Earth music is like!”

The chorus was coming up. He threw himself into it, heart and soul.

The lyrics, about an astronaut in space missing his family back on Earth, were bittersweet. He could never have known, back on his home planet, how fitting the words would turn out to be one day.

His parents thought he was at boarding school. They couldn't have guessed that he was light-years away, feeling homesick at his school in space.

Were the other students enjoying the song? John couldn't tell. He kept his eyes shut until he'd finished. It made it so much easier.

When the final notes faded away, he opened his eyes, not sure what to expect.

Applause broke out all across the Center. A few of the students gave him an odd look as he made his way back to his seat, but it was obvious that most of the students loved it, even if it was very different to what they were used to.

Kaal clapped him on the back. “That was sweet! I love Earth music. It's all so different.”

Kritta was gazing at John adoringly. “I think that was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard. You're amazing.”

John had felt like he was floating on a cloud, but with that comment, he abruptly fell off it. “Maybe it should be your turn next, Kaal,” John suggested, hoping Kaal understood what he was really saying.

“I can't,” Kaal mumbled. “Not with everybody watching.”

“Just imagine your family's out there cheering you on!” John said. “They'll be here tomorrow.”

Kaal grinned at that. “I can't wait.”

“My folks are coming, too,” Tarope added. “Uncle Scront is flying them here in his worn-out old star-skiff. All fourteen of them! If it doesn't break down on the way, that is.”

“My parents are on a galactic cruise,” Monix said miserably.

“So they're not coming?” Dyfi asked. “That's a shame.”

“No, they are coming! That's the problem! They've paid a fortune for the captain to divert the cruise ship to Hyperspace High for the day, just so they can be here! How embarrassing is that?”

With all this talk of visiting families, John's good mood was beginning to fade away again. Then he saw a sight that instantly cheered him up: Emmie, walking in through the Center doors! Okay, so Mordant Talliver was right behind her, but John was willing to put up with that.

There were so many questions that needed to be answered — and now it looked like there were some new ones. Why were there streaks of black in her silvery hair? And why did she look even angrier than the last time he'd seen her?

He stood up and waved. “Hey, Emmie! Over here!”

BOOK: Galactic Battle
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