Page 6 of When Eden Falls

“They must have had their reasons.” Which worried me.

Rooke pointed north-eastwards. “The signal is coming from that direction.”

I realigned the ship, lowering our altitude and initiating the thrusters to slow down. We flew over the edge of the land, skimming the coastline. Less than twenty miles along, a large silver shape emerged from behind a dense rockface. We flew past, assessing the scene from above.

Partially submerged under a mound of fallen boulders was the Solarfleet scouting ship, Challenger. The front of the ship had disintegrated into the rockface where jagged metal panels bent backwards at haphazard angles. The rest of the silver body showed signs of breach damage along the lower areas of the hull.

I steadily circled the area, confidently taking us lower witheach pass. “I’d be surprised if anyone survived a crash like that.”

“That’s an atmospheric ship,” Rooke mentioned. “I don’t understand why they crashed. The ground next to the sea edge is flat and wide enough to land on.”

“That ship is old. I doubt it’s been in atmosphere for years. And they could’ve misjudged. The air is humid. It could’ve caused issues with their descent. Humidity isn’t something we’re used to.”

“You don’t seem to be having trouble.”

“Don’t jinx it, Rooke.”

He grinned. “Always the sceptic.”

As I took another pass over the wreckage, Rooke sat forward and pointed to an open area of land further north. “Can you take us down over there?”

“You’re planning on landing already?” I glanced at him, shocked at his premature decision. Standard procedure for any research mission was to scan the area from the air for at least an hour before landing, to give us a better perspective of what to expect on the surface.

“We’ve found the wreckage. Let’s go investigate.”

“Are you sure?”

“This isn’t a standard mission.”

Reluctantly, I nodded, lining the ship up for landing. The honey-gold strip of land, set in between the sea and a steep line of vertical rockfaces was more than twenty miles long and at least half a mile wide. Theoretically, landing should be easy.

With the humidity, the descent was unexpectedly rapid. I felt the ship attempt to slip from my control. Holding my breath, I waited for the landing gear to extend fully. It clicked into place just in time for the wheels to strike the ground. Thankfully, the landing was smooth and resilient. As I pulled the ship to a halt, my heart was thumping against my chest. I slumped back into my chair, finding it hard to release my hold on the driving levers.

Nux, that was close.

Rooke’s chuckle echoed in my ear. I glared over at him,unappreciative of his response. He was grinning at me devilishly. No sign of relief or worry whatsoever. “I knew you could do it.” Taking his helmet off, he stood up and tapped my shoulder. “You’re the best pilot I know.”

As he walked out of the cockpit, I called after him, “And you can be a condescending bastard, Rooke Maddox.”

He looked back and winked before flashing me a teasing smile. It was a good thing I liked him.

After contacting Troy on The Orka to confirm we had landed, I found the crew in the rear-section of the ship, fidgeting into their atmospheric suits. The blue reflective material was light but inflexible. Although streamlined and easy to manoeuvre in, they weren’t the easiest garment to pull on.

Rooke approached offering me a suit. “Kobe’s confirmed the air is nontoxic. Signs of life are primarily in the water with some on land, but not in the direct vicinity.” I eyed him warily. He was trying to convince me his swift tactics were plausible.

Zamya caught my eye. She was still brooding over the situation. It was apparent I wasn’t the only crew member he needed to convince.

Once we were all suited up, our slimline helmets attached, and our oxygen supply compressed, the only way we could communicate was through the radio integrated into our helmets. I watched our two military crew members, Oz and Sym, open the airlock to the rear loading door. They walked down the landing ramp, their large guns raised to attention, scouring the area for any form of hostility. The scientific crew members always referred to these two as The Muscle. I’d known them both for two years.

From behind, the two soldiers looked indistinguishable. Both men were at least six-foot-two with strong shoulders and thick, powerful bodies. Oz was the eldest of the crew. Being thirty-three and from the nation of Qubbos, he had seen his fair share of military action. On Allura, Qubbos’ relations with its neighbour, Eonia, had been tense for centuries. Purely over the ownership of a spit of land dividing them. This had resulted in a fleeting war seven years ago. A truce was put into place, but tensions remained.Armies still patrolled either side of the border, and the occasional fight broke out. Oz had been one of those soldiers. The scar that ran down the left side of his jaw, across his ear and neck, was evidence enough of his past commitment. He looked menacing with his multitude of tattoos and shaven hair. His bright, narrow eyes were always surveying, calculating. His presence intimidated me on a good day.

Sym, on the other hand, was a friendly giant. He was the same age as me, twenty-five, and had only ever served as a soldier in Solarfleet, employed purely for crew protection. He was constantly humming or smiling, showing off his perfect white teeth. There was nothing malicious about him. Rooke continuously teased him about his choice of hairstyle, which currently was an afro mohawk with shaven zigzags around the sides, but it suited him. Not that you could see it now. I could only work out who was who because Oz insisted on going first.

I followed Rooke down the ramp, the sunlight bright and warm. As I touched my booted feet to the honey-gold, grained surface at the bottom, I noticed it twinkled, resembling billions of stars. Some particles danced across the surface when caught by the breeze, swirling up into mini tornadoes. Cora bent down next to me and brushed the texture between her gloved fingers. Looking up, she was full to the brim with excitement. “It’s like fairy dust.”

“I highly doubt we’ll find fairies.”

She scooped a sample into a glass pot and stood up. “You never know. This could be where dreams are made.”