Excerpt form the The Skid Chronicles part 2
Bruce wondered why he had never thought
of hijacking one of the patrol ships before as piloting one was just like
playing on a virtual flight trainer game on the internet. He blissfully ignored
the fact that he would never have got even close to one of them previously. He
also ignored the probability that even if he had got aboard he would just as likely have blown the space port and
himself to bits rather than getting off
the ground, let alone managing to get back
to earth.
Myfair had shown him what most of the
controls did, showed him how to set a course to anywhere on Skid and back to
earth, but nowhere else. Myfair had also suggested that he not fiddle with
various knobs and buttons on one side of the console in a most un-Skidlike
manner. This was like a red rag to a bull to Bruce who suspected they must
control the ships weapons systems and he itched for a suitable target and an
opportunity to test them.
Bruce enjoyed piloting the space craft,
though he was looking forward to seeing what had become of his farm even more. The
farm that he had hewn from the landscape just like his ancestors had hacked
their’s out of the bush. He conveniently forgot about the huge trees that his
pioneering ancestors had had to deal with, with nothing more than an axe and a
pit saw and the years of superhuman struggle they’d had to break in the farm.
Bruce felt as if he was coming home after a long trip away, which after he thought
about it for a moment was quite odd.
Odd because not so long ago he hated the place, hated the
planet and the people that inhabited it and yearned for the real home that he
thought he would never see again. Now he felt some sort of proprietary interest
in what was happening there as if it was his and not the property of those that
lived there. He wondered if he would feel the same way if he ever got back to
his real home again. He thought about that possibility for a moment and found
to his surprise that going home or not going home didn't seem to mean as much
to him as he believed it once had. All he had always wanted was embodied in the
baby that Sue held, and well maybe in Sue herself although he wasn’t all that
sure about that yet.
Bruce shook his head in disbelief. It
was as if whatever emotional bonds he had developed for the place he had grown
up and bound him there had been shattered. If he did ever go back home to earth
his homecoming would certainly be different. While his absence had not been
missed before, this time his departure had been far more public and would be
hard to hide. He was also determined that if he did return to earth it would be
in full control over his memories.
It wasn't hard to conjure up a vision of
Trev being grilled by the thought police, or of Mrs Pratt who must be having a
hard time explaining the disappearance of little Bruce to the cops and the gun
she toted.
As the space ship sped over the vast
empty Skidian plain Bruce caught sight of the meandering line of trees that
marked the river beside which he had built his home on Skid, more correctly the
house that had been built for him. He thought he recognized the line of low
hills close to the farm and looked around nervously for Myfair because despite
his new found confidence in piloting the craft he wasn’t actually sure of the
procedure for landing the spaceship.
How
did you land these things? He wondered. He needn't have worried. As the
patrol craft skimmed over the trees the farm came into view and after making a
circuit of the farm it descended, slowed and landed gently beside the barn
without any input from Bruce who was left wondering whether he had actually
been in control at all.
During the circuit Bruce had seen people
running towards the house from various points about the farm and wondered why
they would do that. None of them had turned up where the craft had landed,
though as he walked down the ramp behind Myfair he could see some Skidians
looking down the hill at them. That struck him as a little strange. But he was
more interested in the farm which from the air looked much as he'd left it.
Looking around Bruce wasn't so sure as
he looked closer. The garden they had so carefully planted and tended now looked
like a wilderness and the fence around it sagged as if something had tried to
jump over it and landed on top of it instead.
Bruce wrinkled his nose distastefully,
the place had an air of sad neglect, like a rental house, where nobody really
cared about the place because it wasn't their's and it showed in the rank grass,
the sagging gates and the tools and chairs left discarded about the yard.
The dogs ran out of the space ship behind
them and reacquainted themselves with their old stamping ground as Sue carry
the baby and Bruce followed Myfair up the hill towards the house.
Mitch stood indecisively at the door of
the space ship and looked out. Nobody had told him to do anything so he wasn’t
sure what he should be doing and he was not used to alighting from an aircraft
without a military salute to acknowledge and a red carpet to stride
purposefully down. Should he follow the others or stay put? He asked himself.
He could see some people peering down the hill at them and wasn't sure whether
they were friendly or not. They didn't look too happy. Some looked as if they
were brandishing objects that looked very much like weapons. His old fear of
open spaces made him feel giddy and he teetered on the threshold wondering if
he was going to faint. He reached out a hand to support himself in the doorway
and told himself to pull together.
The real fear of being left behind
overrode the other conflicting emotions in Mitch’s mind and he made a move to
follow the other three. The door closing behind him as he stepped out of the
spaceship made the decision final. He trotted off after the others as fast as
his out of condition body would allow him and came abreast of them puffing and
coughing wondering if he had the energy to make the climb the rest of the way
up the hill.
Myfair recognized most of the people
standing on the hill and saw them relax as soon as they realized who it was
alighting from the patrol ship. Perhaps
they’ve had other less welcome visitors he decided, wandering bands of
desperate Skidians looking for food and shelter or maybe more formidable, more
demanding visitors from the better appointed industrial complexes. Maybe the
likes of Mischief had learnt of his absence and decided to test the limits of
their power.
