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  Details can be found at the end of THE DOOMED PLANET

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  THE DOOMED PLANET

  First edition. December 6, 2019.

  Copyright © 2019 M J Dees.

  Written by M J Dees.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  The Doomed Planet (Mastery of the Stars, #1)

  Still not ready to leave Sevan? | Read on for an extract of, SHIPMENT TO DAPHNIS, the next book in the series...

  Find out what happens next | Get your copy now

  ALSO BY M J DEES | Living with Saci

  Living with the Headless Mule

  The Astonishing Anniversaries of James and David: Part One

  When The Well Runs Dry

  Fred & Leah

  COPYRIGHT | First published in 2019 by M J Dees | E-book first published in 2019 by M J Dees | Copyright M J Dees 2019

  CHAPTER 1: THE WORST DISASTER IMAGINABLE

  Sevan stood on the shuttle. It was an old ship with many internal attachments that shook and rattled. Passengers packed the ship, way beyond the number that Sevan assumed must have been permissible under Concession regulations and he held on tight to a metal bar which did little to stop him from being thrown around.

  He looked with envy at the passenger sitting on the guard’s seat. He looked like he might be high on something and Seven knew he wasn’t the guard. Sevan hadn’t seen an actual guard on a shuttle for years, they expected passengers to fend for themselves and they often had to.

  The passenger rocked backwards and forwards as the shuttle lurched from side to side. Sevan wondered what the nature of the training for shuttle pilots was, he assumed they must recruit them from the desert cart racers which Sevan used to enjoy watching as a youngster. Sevan noticed how blue the passenger’s skin was and thought he must be from one of the ‘communities’ as the Concession named them.

  Sevan was blue as well, but he was much closer to the standard turquoise which the Concession often reminded the populous through their propaganda was the colour of true citizenship. He wasn’t the green side of turquoise like the elite but nobody of that hue would be found dead on a shuttle. In fact, if one was found on a shuttle then they were probably dead.

  Just as these thoughts were passing between Sevan’s antennae, the deep blue passenger fell off the guard’s seat and skidded across the floor, coming to a rest in a pool of ambiguous liquid. He remained there, motionless, dead maybe, but not well and in need of immediate help.

  Sevan didn’t lose a moment before leaping into action. He jumped into the vacated guard’s seat before any of the other passengers could have the same idea.

  He didn’t always get these regional shuttles that the system’s ruling corporation theoretically operated but which were in reality run by private individuals who would pay bribes to operate the route between the Concession and the neighbouring colonies. Sevan preferred the concessions own shuttles which were just as packed but were newer and more reliable.

  Sevan had been to visit his aunt. He was worried she was losing her marbles. The Concession workers commonly considered the marbles, small spheres at the end of the antenna, to be the source of sanity. All his aunt did was complain about the Concession and the corporation turning them all into slaves, while Sevan told her she should consider herself lucky that the Concession was there to provide for them at all.

  His aunt wasn’t his main preoccupation, however. Today had been the representation lottery, and it terrified Sevan that, despite the huge odds against it, they might select him as the one to represent the workers on the Concession council. Sevan couldn't think of anything worse than being summoned to sit on the Concession council.

  As the shuttle docked in the terminal, Sevan could see what looked like hundreds of other shuttles docking, awaiting passengers or already moving away from the terminal. Huge conveyors were carrying passengers to and from the many levels.

  Sevan disembarked. From a distance, the terminal with its many lights had looked impressive but close up Sevan could see that the terminal looked old and tatty like it was falling apart bit by bit. As he walked along the corridor, a roofing tile fell off, crushing a fellow commuter.

  Outside the terminal it was raining and puddles were burning into the road. Sevan had no option than to make a run for it and then rinse off the acidic liquid as soon as he reached his container. His container was on level 110 of a stack which was only a short distance from the terminal.

  *

  On the following day, he got a seat on a Concession shuttle. The only way he could do this was to get one which went the long way round. Direct shuttles were always packed to the air locks, so Sevan would get up earlier than he needed and compensate for the extra time with a place on one of the uncomfortable hard seats. Even today, the day before Binge, the shuttle was busy. Sevan wondered why they couldn’t run more shuttles even though he knew the answer - it cost credits.

  Sevan hated Binge, the one day in the solar circle when all the workers had the day off and got high. It was a messy affair and, at 23 circles, Sevan felt too old for that kind of frivolity. He would rather sit in his container and watch a good story but rules were rules, and he didn’t want to risk being penalised.

  He felt anxious. Not because of Binge but because today the Council would announce the results of the representation lottery. Sevan knew the odds of his number coming out of the machine were astronomical. He offered a silent prayer to the Giant Sky Cup and hoped it was listening.

  Throughout his life, Sevan had avoided attention. He enjoyed nothing more than being ignored. Being selected for the council would be the worst disaster imaginable. They would plaster his face all over the story screens at every corner of the colony and everyone would know who he was, it would ruin his glorious anonymity forever.

  He tried to take his marbles off things by listening to his entertainment implant but he was tiring of the Concession playlist, though he would never admit that to anyone for fear of being penalised.

  Sevan’s shuttle was getting close to the terminal where he would need to change into a second shuttle to get him close enough to his assigned department. It would be a lot easier if the Council had allocated a container closer to his department, but he assumed they had their reasons.

  On the second shuttle, he also got a seat. He couldn’t believe it. This was an omen, a sign from the Giant Cup. Everything would be okay. The recorded voice asking him to hold tight, to not defecate on the shuttle and to enjoy his journey didn’t annoy him as it usually did. Today would be a good day and it was Binge tomorrow and that wouldn’t be as bad as he was expecting either.

  His department was located in an area filled with so many commercial container stacks that the starlight didn’t quite reach ground level and Sevan was glad that the walk from the shuttle terminal to his department’s stack was a short one.

  Sevan felt a new wave of anxiety rising within him. This time it wasn’t because of the lottery or Binge day, it was because in a few moments he would enter his department’s stack and he would have to get to his work area without bumping into his nemesis, Fore. Fore was a bully who used to lie in wait for Sevan and then pounce on him with a barrage of humiliating taunts. Sometimes, Sevan would have to take tortuous routes to his work area to avoid contact with Fore and he wasn’t always successful. Today was one of those days.

  “Sevan!”

&nbs
p; His antennae quivered at the sound of Fore’s voice.

  “Sevan! Why are you running away? I’m not going to eat you, or am I?” Fore caught up with him and flashed all three rows of his sharp teeth.

  Fore prided himself on being the green side of turquoise but Sevan figured he couldn’t be all that special if he was working in the stacks for the concession.

  “What do you want, Fore?”

  “Oooo. Somebody got up on the wrong side of the container,” Fore mocked.

  At times like this, Binge didn’t seem so bad. Sevan would rather be off his antennae on fushy fushy juice than listening to Fore.

  “Leave me alone. I have work to do,” Sevan grumbled.

  “Haven’t you heard? I guess you are not in the loop,” Fore laughed. “There is an assembly, they're going to announce the results of the lottery.”

  That was all Sevan needed. He was struggling to meet his targets as it was, the last thing he needed was to waste time in a pointless meeting just to see which poor fusher they would sacrifice to the media sideshow of the Concession Representation Council.

  He followed Fore to the arena where the workers were gathering to hear the announcement. Workers, who were meeting their targets, seemed happy for a bit of time off and most were looking forward to the day off for Binge tomorrow.

  Security around the arena was heavier than usual and Sevan wondered whether they were expecting another terrorist attack. The thought made him even more nervous.

  Sevan watched as Thertee, one of the Concession supervisors, tuned in the huge screen which would display the results of the lottery. The huge screen crackled into life and images of the council chamber came into focus. He felt tired and wished he could sit down.

  When the council members came into focus, Sevan realised how green they all were. He was sure they hadn’t been as green last year. They made Thertee look blue, even though Thertee was the greenest of anyone whom Sevan had met in real life.

  Fore seemed to be getting into the spirit of things.

  “What would you do if your name came out of the lottery?” Sevan asked.

  “I would be honoured,” he said standing straighter. “I’m the material they are looking for and it wouldn’t surprise me if I was chosen.”

  “But it’s a lottery.”

  “Exactly, it wouldn’t surprise me if they chose me in the lottery.”

  “But that’s not how lotteries work. Oh, never mind.”

  Sevan prepared himself for the long haul. He knew that before they would draw the name, there would be a line of council members queuing up to deliver long tedious speeches designed to reinforce their own importance.

  There was a scuffle behind them and Sevan turned to see a pair of very dark blue antennae disappearing into the crowd, pursued by several members of the security forces.

  “Resistance,” said Fore, not taking his eyes off the big screen.

  “Resistance? What are they resisting? The Concession gives us work and accommodation and food. Some people don’t know when they are well off.”

  “Some people are never satisfied.”

  “Exactly,” said Sevan. He caught himself agreeing with Fore and the sensation was most irritating.

  The speeches began and Sevan’s eyes began to glaze over. The speeches were almost identical year in and year out and, although he agreed with their sentiment, he was eager to get back to his work. Those targets wouldn’t meet themselves.

  When the last council member had delivered his final dramatic phrase, they made preparations for the draw. Sevan watched as they moved the huge machine into place containing thousands of balls, each printed with the name of a worker.

  The huge crowd had fallen silent now, many of the workers were praying to the Giant Cup in the Sky that their name would be the one drawn. Sevan was praying to the Giant Cup in the Sky that they would get on with it so he could get back to his targets.

  The Chief Council Member pressed a button, which turned on the machine and a great cage, containing thousands of balls began to turn. It was so quiet you could hear an antenna twitch.

  After what seemed to Sevan like an eternity, the Chief Council Member pressed a second button which released one ball. Sevan noticed the ball was just the blue side of turquoise. It rolled down the wire track and fell into the waiting hand of the Chief Council Member who lifted it up to read the name.

  “The worker selected to be this year’s representative on the Concession Council is...”

  The Chief Council Member held up the name for everyone in the arena to see.

  Sevan fainted.

  CHAPTER 2: THE CAVERN OF MYSTERY

  Sevan awoke and looked around. He appeared to be in what he imagined to be some kind of container except that it was much larger than his own.

  “Ah, the sleeper awakes.”

  It was Thertee, carrying two cups one of which he handed to Sevan.

  “Welcome to my cavern of mystery. You've been out for some time. You got your marbles in a twist.”

  The truth began to seep back into Sevan’s antennae as he remembered what had happened at the lottery draw.

  “The lottery!”

  “Calm down, drink your juice. Don't worry, it’s not fushy fushy juice, we'll save that for tomorrow.”

  Sevan took a sip of his juice but it did little to make him feel less anxious.

  “What will happen to me?”

  “You are going to be the worker’s representative on the Concession Council.”

  “But I don’t want to be.”

  “I’m afraid that has very little to do with it. The Council has chosen you to serve and serve you must.”

  “Can’t they choose someone else? We'll tell them they've made a mistake.”

  “I don’t think that will go down very well,” Thertee laughed. “Do you remember a few years ago there was a representative chosen called Tuuth?”

  “Wasn’t he the one who died in a freak accident on the way to the Council chamber?”

  “That was no freak accident. Tuuth was adamant that he would turn down his appointment. They eliminated him before he could open his mouth and embarrass the Council.”

  Sevan took a gulp of his juice.

  “There are several truths that you should know before I take you to the Council. It may be difficult to hear Sevan, but you must hear because time is running out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How long have you been working for the ConcessionSevan?”

  “I don’t know, as long as I can remember.”

  “That’s right Sevan, as long as you can remember. Can you remember life before the concession?”

  Sevan thought about it.

  “Well, yes, I think so.”

  “What can you remember?”

  “Erm...”

  “The Concession wants you to believe you had a life before the Concession but the Concessionis your life and will be unless you can do something about it.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Sevan, do you know why they call this The Doomed Planet? Because this planet is doomed, we are doomed. Our only purpose here is to mine the minerals the corporation requires. As soon as the Concession becomes unprofitable, which is sooner than you think, they will liquidate the concession, the planet. They will liquidate us.”

  “Liquidate?”

  “You think you are a willing worker here, Sevan, the Concession gives you everything you need but in reality you are a slave, we are all slaves. We only exist to work for the concession. Think about it, what kind of life do you have other than working for the concession?”

  “Binge?”

  “They only give you Binge to take your mind off how pointless your life is.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “That’s not important right now. What is important is that they have chosen you as the new representative and only you have the power to save us.”

  “What?” Sevan almost choked on his juice. “I get anxious about getting u
p in the morning, how do you expect me to take on the corporation?”

  “Not the corporation Sevan, it’s bigger than that.”

  “What’s bigger than the corporation? I can’t do anything, I’m nobody.”

  “Which is why they chose you as the workers representative. Failing to meet your targets, chronic anxiety, what better individual. You present no threat to the corporation, at least that’s what they think.”

  “What do you mean chosen? It’s a lottery. The council couldn’t have chosen me.”

  “They didn’t choose you Sevan, the corporation did. The corporation controls everything that happens in the concession, they even turn us against each other to keep us in our place.”

  “How?”

  “Green versus blue?”

  “But you are one of the worst at saying green is better than blue, Thertee.”

  “I know, and it makes me sick, Sevan, but I must remain above suspicion. If the corporation, or the council, suspected I was anything but one hundred percent loyal it would jeopardise all our efforts to save our race.”

  “It all seems far-fetched Thertee. Are you sure you haven’t being doing a bit too much of the old fushy fushy juice?”

  Thertee laughed.

  “Let me show you something,”

  Thertee switched on a screen and twiddled a few knobs. When the picture crackled into view, Sevan could see that it was coverage of the lottery draw, in particular the machine containing the thousands of balls. Thertee twiddled a few more knobs, and the image zoomed in on the balls in the machine.

  “Look, Sevan.”

  Sevan walked over to the screen and peered at the balls. After a couple of moments, he realised that every ball had his name printed on it.

  “How could no one notice this?”

  “You'd be surprised what a bit of mass delirium can do. Half the workers started taking fushy fushy juice yesterday to prepare for Binge.”

  “But the council members.”

  “They are always high.”

  “On fushy fushy juice?”

  “No, on these.”