The Forgotten by Mark Wright

Author:Mark Wright
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Big Finish Productions, Ltd.
Published: 2012-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Blake’s breathing echoed around his helmet as, with a blast of compressed gas, the wide cargo bay doors opened onto the vacuum of space.

He gingerly stepped towards the edge of the cargo bay, making sure to step over the coiled anchor line that snaked from the heavy belt circling his waist to a large winch. Encased in his own suit, Boyd stood ready to pay the line out as he ventured into space. Blake gave the man a thumbs up, but it wasn’t returned.

Turning, Blake paused on the threshold, trying to keep his breathing under control as he peered out into the void. For a man who, like most citizens of the Federation, had lived most of his life beneath the steel sky of a domed city, being exposed to the elements was something to relish. He knew the dangers of space travel, even in this technologically advanced era, but what he saw was truly breathtaking. No stars, just the swirling mass of nebula.

He turned his helmet slowly to the left, and saw the reassuring sight of the Liberator, waiting patiently as she hung in space. And there, directly ahead, the escape pod. He had no choice but to do this, Lant was more than capable of killing any of them, and if this gained his trust… Plus, there was a definite opportunity here.

Karter had explained how he’d developed rudimentary thruster systems for the station’s few spacesuits to help perform maintenance on the exterior hull over the years. Blake activated a control, and a short blast of air hissed from a studded nodule bolted onto the back pack. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, his booted feet began to rise off the ground as the gas burst propelled him forward and out into the nebula.

*

‘Ever the hero, Blake,’ mused Avon to himself. He watched on the flickering screen as Blake gently rose into the air and floated out of the airlock doors.

Alexa sat monitoring Blake’s progress at the console. Halla stood a little way off, watching Avon with suspicion, the rest of Lant’s men lounging on chairs or across dead control consoles. Lant himself leant forward, his arms wide against the rim of a viewport.

‘This ship of yours,’ he said, not looking back. ‘I’ve never seen a Federation design like it.’

‘That’s because the Liberator isn’t of Federation design,’ replied Avon, walking across to where Lant stood.

‘Come now, Avon, you must think me a fool. Only the Federation would have the resources to develop a ship of such power. In the wrong hands, it could be a powerful weapon.’

‘It’s probably already in the wrong hands,’ said Avon with a mirthless laugh. ‘I’ve heard the stories about you, Lant. A bloody revolutionary, hell-bent on destroying the Federation. Blake’s not much different, a fighter. Just a little less…bloody.’

Lant laughed. ‘I’m beginning to see that I’ve misjudged Blake. For 20 years I’ve been expecting the Federation to come and finish the job,’ he said, slamming his fist onto the viewport in sudden anger. From the corner of his eye, Avon saw Alexa look over and frown worriedly.

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