Galactic Blues - Box Set Episodes 4-6: A Newton's Gate Space Opera Adventure (Galactic Blues Box Set Book 2)

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Galactic Blues - Box Set Episodes 4-6: A Newton's Gate Space Opera Adventure (Galactic Blues Box Set Book 2) Page 6

by C. J. Clemens


  Correction, dworg and aflin. How many more species names would he have to learn? And would they look like orcs? Or fairies? He was just waiting for a unicorn to come prancing down the street.

  They continued trundling through the center of Naillik. It resembled one of those old Wild West towns built around mining, blended with the look of one of the cities on Mars, with their cold, high-tech style. The colors here were grim—browns and grays. No unicorns. The townspeople seemed dusty and grimy, like the miners and mechanics at the asteroid mines back home. A fair mix of humans, dworgs, and aflins, in addition to a smattering of robots, lumbered down the busy sidewalks.

  Back home. He still couldn’t get over the fact that he and his crew were not in… well, not in the Milky Way, apparently. Perhaps the portal had transported them to another galaxy, but his instincts told him this was a whole different universe. Maybe even dimension. Man, did those portals really screw up everything. Including his baby... his ship. He really needed to see her.

  Although their faces loomed constantly at the edges of his thoughts, he was deliberately not dwelling on Drey and Tosh. They were alive and somewhere out there. The sheriff hadn’t told him where they were being held, but he’d caught snippets of a conversation about escapees. His guess: Drey had escaped and busted the doc out.

  “So, your story is that you came through a portal and crashed on Vox?” Nate asked him.

  Remy regarded the tousled-haired man to his left, whose eyes had the same almond shape as his sister’s. But while the sheriff looked alert and wise, this guy seemed shifty and self-serving. He wasn’t on the sheriff’s side, which meant he was either being manipulated by someone else or simply out for personal gain.

  “That’s my story,” Remy said, “and I’m sticking to it.”

  “But what’s it like?” Nate pressed. “Where you come from?”

  All chatter died down in the vehicle. Heads went still.

  “It’s a lot like...” Remy gazed out onto the streets brimming with humans, aflins, and dworgs… most apparently miners.

  He caught the sheriff’s eye in her rear-view mirror before it darted away.

  “For the longest time, it was just humans, like us,” he continued. “But when Newton’s Gate exploded, portals began opening up all over the planet and as far out into space as we’d ever traveled.”

  Utter silence reigned in the vehicle.

  “What’s a Newton’s Gate?” Deputy Davis asked, twisting around from the front seat. He was one of the guards Remy could count on to be reasonable—a tall, strong soldier-type who had a soft spot for the new female recruit, Deputy Brand.

  “It was our attempt to build a gateway for space travel—kind of like a wormhole. The idea was it would allow us to travel throughout the galaxy. Maybe find some habitable planets or new resources.”

  “Why did it explode?” Nate asked.

  “Hell if I know, that was a long time ago,” Remy said. “When it happened, Earth became an immigration nightmare, with species from across the galaxy, other dimensions, other universes, even other times, arriving on the planet.”

  “What other species?” Milo, who sat directly in front of Remy, asked.

  Remy knew to be diplomatic. If not for Milo himself, then for the sake of the aflin sitting beside him, who had some kind of chip on his skinny shoulder.

  “Thousands, from across space and time,” Remy said. “Some like you and your counterpart, some like aliens in all those old…” He stopped. Of course, they had no references to earthly folk tales or books or films. “…well, stories. And some right out of our nightmares.”

  “How is it you speak in the common tongue?” Jacer, the aflin, asked, his glare burning with suspicion. “That seems very strange.”

  “I really have no idea,” Remy replied pleasantly. “We speak at least a thousand different languages on my planet. The strange thing, to me, is that you all happen to speak what we call English.”

  “We’ve all heard stories of portals opening up on some of the other planets in our galaxy,” Milo said.

  Several heads nodded in response to his admission.

  “Are any of them permanent?” Remy asked.

  “No, they’re probably as made up as your story.” Jacer’s reedy voice quivered with disdain.

  “Man, you got some real trust issues,” Remy said.

  “My people have been—”

  The vehicle swerved wildly to one side and then the other, cutting off the aflin.

  It was the sheriff, throwing everyone around a bit, likely to stop the brewing argument. Because there hadn’t been any obstacle as far as Remy could see.

  He had been thrust forward, the safety belt snagging uncomfortably under his chin. He wriggled to slide it back down to his chest, but it wasn’t happening with his hands cuffed behind his back. He sighed.

  Milo reached back and tugged the belt down with his meaty hands. Remy thought he caught a flash of kindness in the dworg’s dark eyes. He nodded his appreciation.

  “What I don’t get is… you all need this drug,” Remy said, righting himself again.

  “Nano-biotics,” Milo clarified.

  “Nano-biotics. You were expecting a shipment which obviously got jacked,” Remy continued. “Why don’t you just replace it?”

  “It’s not that simple,” Mayor Cansen responded curtly.

  “Can’t you have some delivered from wherever your home worlds are?” he asked.

  “It will take three months for a shipment to reach us,” Brand spouted.

  “Not to mention the time to replicate the nans,” Nate added.

  “Three months? How far away are your home worlds?” Remy asked Milo.

  “Nearly eighteen billion miles,” Davis said.

  Eighteen billion miles was a long way, but Remy had flown that trip in less than a week.

  Milo had apparently noticed his raised eyebrow. “Where you come from, how long would it take you to travel that distance?”

  “Six to seven days,” Remy replied.

  “Bullshit,” Jacer spat.

  The sheriff must’ve really gotten tired of the conversation because she pulled another unnecessary swerving maneuver that left everyone rattled.

  “You know,” Sheriff Greyson called out, speeding up the vehicle, “let’s table the chitchat until we reach Skully’s.”

  Chapter 5

  LILLY

  Lilly jerked the transport vehicle to a sudden halt inside Skully’s Scrapyard, provoking a fresh chorus of groans from her passengers.

  Yeah, well, do they think it’s a pleasure cruise?

  They’d passed a whole bunch of Rot-inflicted citizens on the way through town—people she recognized. Some of the regulars at the Red Lady. Miners. Nice folks. She might as well be signing their death warrants if this little expedition to Skully’s didn’t cast some light onto the location of the meds.

  While the inhabitants of Vox would always suffer from the disease, the nans were meant to repair the damage it caused—and stave off the Rot in those like her, who breathed the planet’s unhealthy air but didn’t inhale full doses of Vox dust, as the luckless miners did. Of course, the Vox Council only supplied the planet with enough meds to accommodate the official population. She knew, as well as the council members did, the number of residents was much higher. Many of them had illegally ventured to Vox to seek their fortune. So, even with the regular shipments of nano-biotics, not everyone was safe. Hence, the existence of a brisk, black-market business.

  The trouble for Lilly, though, was that, without their latest shipment, almost everyone on the planet would be in trouble.

  “Everybody out,” she ordered.

  This bare patch of sand at the back of Skully’s yard was the only place spacious enough to store both the med ship and what she now suspected to be Captain Bechet’s beloved craft.

  Skully zoomed up on his scooter, causing a mini-sandstorm as he skidded to a stop next to the vehicle. He cocked his head at the med ship. “We ju
st brought her in.”

  Lilly blinked sand from her eyes. “Very good, Skully.”

  “Sheriff…” Jacer hovered uncomfortably close to her shoulder, making her take an automatic step back. “I think the council will most likely send a forensics team to examine the ship, and then they’ll certainly want it returned.”

  “Don’t worry, Jacer. We had no intention of putting it up for auction, despite what some may think.” Lilly shot her brother a withering look.

  “I was talking about that one.” Nate pointed at Bechet’s ship.

  “Hate to tell you this, kid, but there’s no way you’re taking the Jay.”

  Lilly whirled around at the sound of Bechet’s voice. Even flanked by guards bigger than him, with his hands bound behind his back, he emanated a certain authority. Nobody would doubt for a second that he was the captain of that strange, damaged vessel and that he loved it with a fierce passion.

  “If you’re in jail, the title shifts to the city,” Nate said to him with a knowing smirk.

  Lilly pushed her brother aside and walked behind the captain. Brushing off Davis’s attempts to help, she grabbed one of Bechet’s forearms, pulled him forward, and led him like an animal toward his ship. He moved willingly, if off-kilter and wincing. She noticed his wrists were horribly grazed, and felt a sudden pang of remorse, but loosening the cuffs now would make her look weak.

  Besides, the pain might keep him docile.

  The whole group gathered outside the ship’s airlock. Skully, who must have realized Lilly had decided to delay checking out the med ship, stepped forward to examine the door.

  “I think I can release pressure in the door’s hydraulics…” Skully said, with his usual aplomb. “It should open then.”

  “You haven’t been inside yet?” Lilly asked.

  Bechet flinched at the question. His pulse raced, his sinewy forearm tensing under her grip. He was pent-up, like a mother watching someone violate her child.

  “Nope, but scans for energy came back negative,” Skully said. “Looking through the windows, we couldn’t see any lights or other indications of power.”

  The mechanic paused at the panel that was dangling open.

  “Something wrong?” Lilly asked. Her grip on Bechet tightened. She would blame the captain by association if anything were to befall the reliable scrapyard owner.

  Skully reached inside and did something she couldn’t quite see. A moment later, the door dropped open.

  “Ta da.” Skully waved his wrench in triumph.

  “Nice.” Lilly prodded Bechet, who didn’t budge.

  He seemed rooted, staring at the open spaceship.

  “Bechet,” she hissed. “Move it.”

  “Remy,” he murmured. “On my ship, the name’s Remy.” He twisted his head to flash her a smile. “Or Captain, if you prefer.”

  Just for that, she shoved him harder. She saw another grin flit across his face.

  The two of them proceeded up the ramp and through the open inner doorway, followed by Skully, Milo, Jacer, Davis, Brand, Pierce, Mayor Cansen, and Nate. She had to keep a mental head count at all times because, with a group this size, it was all too likely that someone would wander off and do something unscripted.

  Skully moved to the fore of the group, holding a scanner and a flashlight out in front. “Still no power source,” he concluded.

  They ascended a short staircase, headed down a dim corridor, and stepped onto the bridge. Skully and Nate were both practically salivating over the ship. While it was considerably larger than most vessels Lilly had seen, it wasn’t the biggest in the galaxy. There were slow cruisers that could hold several hundred people. But there was certainly a lot of promise in this craft.

  Bechet—or Remy—had relaxed since they’d entered the bridge. Clearly back in his natural habitat. She could guess his seat—the one nearest the front.

  “What’s that?” She pointed with her free hand.

  “That’s her steering wheel,” the captain said, following her finger. “It’s from a 1968 Corvette,” he added proudly.

  “O-K.” The ergonomics seemed weird, and she had no clue what a corvette was, but hey, whatever worked.

  Skully tried some of the controls and, true to form, figured out where the power source was. Or where it should be, if there was any. His head shake told her there wasn’t.

  “She’s dead in the water, Sheriff.” He looked at Remy accusingly. “I don’t know what you did to her, but this ship’s not very happy.”

  “We crashed,” Remy said stonily. His arm tensed up again. “And her captain is also not very happy.”

  He twisted his head and glared at Lilly. The pain she read in his eyes wasn’t of physical woe—it was the existential anguish of finding himself in a strange galaxy and suddenly having to accept it as reality.

  She struggled to break from his gaze. Part of her wanted to assure him it would all be OK.

  Stop it. Shake it off.

  She nodded at Davis, beckoning him over. “Here, Davis, take him.” Standing close to Remy Bechet was making her feel weak.

  As she strode away—the farther, the better—she thought she heard a muted laugh from Remy. She ignored him and headed to the front windows of the craft.

  “So that means we can’t access any navigation logs or anything?” Davis asked the mechanic and scrapyard owner.

  Skully shook his head. “Until I tinker around a bit and get some power into her, she ain’t tellin’ us nothin’.”

  “I’d like it very much if you didn’t tinker with my ship,” Remy said in a low growl.

  Lilly gazed out the front windows. “I don’t think we give a shit what the captain would or wouldn’t like.”

  “Lil—” Nate said.

  “If he goes to jail, you can bid on her with everyone else,” Lilly said, scoping out the captain’s console.

  “Lilly,” Nate insisted.

  She swung toward him.

  Her stomach plunged. The captain had a gun in his hands, which were still behind his back, and yet, by turning his body awkwardly, he had managed to point the weapon at Nate. Her brother was frozen, his eyes wide and glued to the barrel of the gun.

  Next to Remy was an open panel in the wall, from which he’d clearly drawn the pistol.

  Of course, a pirate would have hidden compartments filled with guns. What was she thinking even bringing him here?

  Davis had moved in front of Remy to check out something Skully was talking about. That had been all Remy was waiting for—a chance. And she’d given it to him by putting someone less experienced in charge. She unleashed a hiss of self-rage.

  “While you have my favorite gun impounded in your jail, this one will do,” Remy addressed her directly, his face creased in a roguish grin that she wanted to bash.

  “You son of a bitch,” she spat.

  She could only comply helplessly as he waved everyone over in one direction with his hands tied behind his back and then changed his mind and moved them back to the other side. If he wasn’t threatening her and her people, she’d have to laugh.

  “You got the wrong man, Sheriff,” Remy said. “I’m not your enemy.”

  “Pointing a gun at her brother is probably not the best way to argue your innocence,” Nate said. Sweat dribbled down his forehead.

  “Shut up, kid.” Remy flashed her another of those infuriating smiles. “I gave it a fifty-fifty chance she’d let me shoot you.”

  She blinked.

  Well, he wasn’t completely wrong.

  And Nate knew it, too.

  Chapter 6

  DREYLA

  “Are these things really necessary?” Dreyla asked when Tosh shoved a gas mask at her. Sneaking around in the Jay’s cluttered cargo hold had made her claustrophobic enough without putting a heavy, black mask on.

  The doc had already strapped his over his face. “Very necessary. When these two combine…” Tosh held up two glass beakers, one containing a clear liquid, one cloudy. “…they produce a gas t
hat’ll knock out anyone who’s not protected.”

  Dreyla fiddled with the clasps. “Why didn’t I just put on an enviro suit?” she grumbled, securing her mask in place.

  Tosh’s eyes drilled into her. “Dreyla, are you absolutely certain you heard voices?”

  She nodded. “Several… and one of them was the captain’s.”

  On this point, she was more than certain. It made her question Tosh’s hearing that he hadn’t immediately picked up on Remy’s voice. Especially since the captain had been rather vocal about nobody tinkering with the Jay. Good ol’ Remy—he’d die before he’d let people mess with the ship or any of her crew.

  At least his presence meant they hadn’t managed to subdue him by torture—and that the sheriff’s gang didn’t seem to consider him a dangerous murderer. Still, given all the crap that had happened, he could be held in that jail forever. Who knew what kind of justice system they ran on this planet? She sure as hell wasn’t going to leave her father at the mercy of these asshats.

  Tosh held up the two beakers, poised to mix the liquids.

  “What are you doing?” she shrieked.

  “I’m about to—”

  “It’ll turn to gas as soon as it hits the air!” Dreyla swiped one of the beakers and shot him a stern look. “What’s gotten into you anyway?”

  Dreyla found herself wishing the doc would slide into his more lucid, serious mode.

  “Look,” she said more calmly, “we need to find some controlled way to deliver your magical concoction. And we should have a plan for waking up the captain afterward, too.”

  Tosh nodded. “You’re so right. Of course.” He set the remaining beaker down on the nearest crate. “I’ve got an idea. Be right back.”

  He tromped off, making entirely too much noise for her liking. God help them if he was just heading off to shoot up again and ended up forgetting all about his wonderful plan.

 

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