Star Bound by Robert Appleton

Author:Robert Appleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, young adult, action adventure, metaphysics, space travel, outer space, series, sci fi, alien contact, teen adventure
Publisher: Robert Appleton

Lohengrin and du Plessis compare notes after our sessions. An interesting difference of opinion has already set in, one that our instructors are keen to gloss over by encouraging us all to mingle during an impromptu feast this evening. Sure, they want competition, but they also want it to be friendly competition.

It’s not exactly a barbecue—no one’s brought charcoal, and we wouldn’t want to pollute the Binder with smoke anyway—but the Marauders rustle up a decent cook-out to celebrate their arrival. The electric stove and extractor fan keep things clean outside. A pity they didn’t let me and Sergei grill the burgers; we’ve worked at several fast-food joints and know how to cook the patties just right. Unfortunately, Thorpe-Campbell prefers them well done—aka cremated—and that charred meat taste overwhelms the otherwise delicious grilled cheese and secret sauce.

“Hi Jim.” Brigitte offers me a fizzy drink, which I accept for diplomacy’s sake. “It’s something I made. See what you think. But careful with your breather.”

I can tell from their tentative nibbles or over-compensating mouthfuls that some of the others are very self-conscious about the constant masking and unmasking required to eat or drink in an unbreathable atmosphere. Not that I blame them. But I’ve long since gotten used to the ritual rhythm of holding in a breath, lifting my mask to take a bite, then reaffixing. The flush of oxygen when it repressurizes is like a mental marker in the eating/drinking cycle. It reassures, and Sergei and I learned to trust that kiss of life when we were young.

“It’s good,” I don’t lie. “Tastes a bit like Dr Pepper.”

“Really? I didn’t put any ground pepper in it.”

“No, no. I mean the make of drink—Dr Pepper. You know, like Tangy T or Coca-Cola. It’s got a bunch of different flavours in it. Some people say it’s between cherry and caramel, or it tastes like almonds. I’ve always thought it tastes like marzipan. So does yours.”

“Marzipan, huh? That’s not quite what was I was going for, but I’m glad you like it.”

“Cheers.” As I take another swig, I notice Brigitte has been experimenting with her eye makeup as well as her beverage. It’s dark, overdone, but alluring. “So what did you make of the nursery?”

“It’s like something out of Dr Seuss, especially with the rhyming from the text. Dixie calls it Whoville.”

I laugh at that. “How far did you get?” Lohengrin already told us where they reached, and we surpassed it later, but a little conversation is no bad thing when all any of us have out here is each other. Even if we’re rivals.

“A dead end on the ridge. It’d be easier without all that mist. Trial and error, I guess, until we can see the whole maze.”

“Yeah. But what’s this about a direct flight? Whose idea was that, to fly a thermal glider up onto the peak?”

“That was Dupe’s—I mean du Plessis’s. He noticed the convection winds, reckons we can ride them all the way into the portal over the peak.”

“Whoever volunteers for that is braver than me.

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