Wanderer's Odyssey - Books 1 to 3: The Epic Space Opera Series Begins

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Wanderer's Odyssey - Books 1 to 3: The Epic Space Opera Series Begins Page 38

by Simon Goodson


  “It’s a slave world,” Sal said quietly.

  “What?” Jess asked.

  “It’s a slave world. I just looked up the data. The planet has very little atmosphere so they grow food in immense domes. There’s a huge slave population that tends the crops.”

  There was silence as they all absorbed that information. Finally, Ali spoke.

  “Jess, Sal. You know we can’t do anything, don’t you? Look, there are far too many Imperial ships around the planet and throughout the system. There are far too many prisoners for us to save, and we’d have nowhere to take them if we did. I know this is difficult.”

  “You have no idea,” Sal replied, tears in her eyes.

  “At least we know what the cargo is, now,” Elizabeth said. “Its only output is food. Someone, somewhere, has run low on food for some reason and needs an urgent delivery. We need to focus on the job.”

  Jess let out a huge sigh.

  “Yeah, you’re right. We couldn’t even make a dent here.”

  “Isn’t that how everyone justifies not interfering?” Sal asked angrily.

  “Maybe, but I’m not everyone,” Jess replied fiercely. “We can’t save everyone down there, but maybe we’ll get the chance to save one or two if they’re involved in delivering the cargo. And I won’t forget this place. Just because we can’t fix it now doesn’t mean we’ll never be able to. Trust me Sal, this is not the end of the matter.”

  “But we can’t just do nothing,” she snapped back.

  “Fine. What do we do, then? Don’t you think I’m wracking my brain to find something that would work?”

  Sal opened her mouth to speak but instead turned away, tears in her eyes. Jess’s anger fled and his stomach sank. He walked over to Sal, each step a battle against the desire to avoid any further confrontation.

  “Sal, I’m sorry,” Jess said, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “I understand… I didn’t mean to shout… I can’t bear not being able to do anything…”

  Sal turned towards him. For a moment he expected anger, then he saw the sadness in her face, the tears flowing down her cheeks. He fought back a sob himself, tears starting to run. Sal threw her arms around him and he returned the embrace, both seeking solace in the other’s arms.

  “Are we going to face this wherever we go?” Sal asked through her tears. “Are we going to be constantly faced by slaves we can’t help?”

  “I don’t know,” Jess replied. “I’m not sure I can cope with seeing this continuously.”

  “Yes, you can,” Elizabeth said softly. Jess hadn’t heard her approach, and now her voice was quieter than he’d ever heard it. “You’re tough. Both of you. You won’t give in, but you won’t stop being hurt by what you see, either. You have to narrow your focus. Concentrate on finding those you can help rather than thinking of those you can’t. The Empire is far too big for one ship to fix, even a ship like this. Remember all those you saved from Iona. You made an incredible difference to the lives of every one of them. Hold onto that.”

  Jess nodded, but he still felt hollow inside. He swore to himself that if he ever had the power needed he would smash the Empire apart. The surge of anger at least left him feeling less empty.

  He stepped away from Sal and found Ali hovering nearby, concern on her face. He smiled tightly at her.

  “One day,” he said. “I’m going to come back here and free every last slave, or die trying.”

  Ali just nodded, then pulled him into a hug. He returned the embrace, but couldn’t help feeling guilty. He’d escaped, he’d found love, but so many others on the planet they were heading for would never have those chances.

  “We need to start planning,” he said, finally stepping back from Ali though keeping hold of her hand. “We can’t just take anyone, the Empire would simply chase after us.”

  “We could fake an accident,” Ali said. “Something that would be sure to kill. Use the Wanderer’s internal shields to keep whoever it is safe but report them killed.”

  “Yes! That could work. We could only do it once, though, or maybe twice, before the authorities got suspicious.”

  “They’ll fine us,” Elizabeth said. “Even if it doesn’t seem to be our fault they’ll look to reduce our profits.”

  “That’s fine,” Jess said. “We can always go asteroid mining again if we get too low on money.”

  “Then we need to start thinking up some believable accidents,” Elizabeth said. “They’ll be using large containers to transport the food. I’m sure a good few slaves could be crushed by one of those if it slipped…”

  Soon all of them were busy thinking up bloody accidents and refining them to be both more believable and to provide cover for rescuing a large group of slaves.

  Elizabeth warned against getting too extravagant. They couldn’t afford to lose the contract, as that would mean upsetting those in the Shadow Beam they so wanted to build a relationship with. They also had to be careful not to ‘kill’ so many prisoners that the authorities decided to investigate more closely.

  Even with those limitations the exercise helped improve the mood greatly. They were doing exactly what Elizabeth had suggested… focusing on saving the few, because they could do nothing for the immense majority.

  * * *

  As they pulled into orbit around the planet a message was beamed at the Wanderer. Jess answered it, feeding the sound through so the others could hear. Only he would be heard at the other end, though.

  “Wanderer here,” he acknowledged the call.

  “Wanderer, this is Solcant Administration. Thank you for responding to our urgent request for transportation. You will be delivering to the Daspal system. Please provide details of the cargo load you are able to carry.”

  “Sending them now,” Jess replied.

  “Thank you, Wanderer. Wait one while we calculate the load you can take…”

  “They’ll work out how best to pack us full of containers,” Elizabeth explained.

  “Wanderer, we are sending over the contract now with details of your cargo and payment for the job. This is a critically urgent delivery. Please confirm we can start loading the prisoners immediately.”

  Jess stared at the others in shock, unable to speak. Prisoners? They’d been hired to carry prisoners? No! That wasn’t possible. He couldn’t do that. He shook his head slowly, still unable to speak. Ali’s face mirrored his own shock. Sal’s was a study in agony. Even Elizabeth had turned pale and seemed unable to speak.

  Jess’s mind felt like a whirlwind was sweeping through. Wild thoughts of blasting the incoming ships, of taking on the entire Imperial fleet, of turning and running immediately all flew through his mind. What should he do? What could he do? Jess had absolutely no idea.

  Chapter 24

  Without his realising it Jess’s implants had triggered, accelerating his thoughts. As always happened, the change reinforced his more logical thoughts while weakening the emotional. That allowed him to look at the situation from a different perspective.

  After giving it careful thought he had a reply. He was aware of time slowly ticking by, but for the others it was only seconds since the shocking announcement had echoed around the room.

  “Negative,” Jess replied calmly. His implants kept his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “There has been a mistake. We are not configured for carrying passengers. We expected to carry containers of goods.”

  “First time carrying slaves, then?” The voice was dripping with amusement. “Don’t worry about facilities. They come packed in containers that have everything they need to survive and be comfortable. To you it’s no different than carrying food. Please confirm you are ready to start loading the containers.”

  Jess felt a chill in his heart. Prisoner containers! He should have known. He saw the same shock and fear in Sal’s face.

  “Jess,” Elizabeth hissed, before grabbing him. “Can they hear us?”

  Jess shook his head.

  “Good. Tell them yes. Do it now, befor
e they get suspicious. Then we choose what to do. If we decide to run then we can take the slaves with us. Now tell them we’re ready!” She shouted the last sentence, shaking Jess slightly.

  Jess thought about what she said carefully, again using the acceleration of his thoughts to buy time.

  Do it, Jess.

  Jess jumped at the message from Sal, then realised that she too was using her implants to think faster.

  Yes, it makes sense.

  Jess wasn’t really surprised at Ali joining in, after the initial shock of Sal’s message. He thought a moment more, then replied to them both.

  OK. You’re right. So is Elizabeth. This will buy us some time, and give us the chance to save at least a few of the slaves.

  “This is the Wanderer,” he sent. “We are ready to take delivery.”

  “Good. Shuttles are on route. We will transfer the transports into your ship and secure them. As you can see from your contract the payment you receive will depend on how quickly you reach Daspal. The slaves are urgently needed, so we suggest leaving as soon as possible. Please review the approach to Daspal carefully. Jump space outside of the approved lane is extremely dangerous.”

  “We understand. Wanderer out.”

  Jess closed the connection and held his head in his hands. The prisoners would soon be loaded. The question was, what to do with them.

  * * *

  They waited in silence as the delivery ships started to load prisoner transports aboard the Wanderer. No slaves appeared to be being used, in fact almost the whole operation was carried out by robots.

  Sal stared at the images of the transports as dark memories stirred within. Despite being differing sizes, and shapes, to take advantage of as much space as possible in a transporting ship, the transports all looked similar. Crudely constructed of dark metal they looked as if they would struggle to hold any atmosphere in. It wasn’t unusual for them to fail to do so.

  “They look pretty grim,” Ali said. “But at least the prisoners have everything they need on board.”

  Jess snorted at that, and Sal turned a fierce stare on Ali.

  “Let me tell you about those transports…” she said, voice low but insistent. “They are nothing more than metal boxes packed with the bare minimum required to keep prisoners alive. Not comfortable. Alive.

  “You get marched onto them knowing you might not make it to the other end. They are almost always overcrowded, two or three times as many people packed in as there should be. Often not enough room even for everyone to lay out on the floor at the same time.

  “As you march on you look for any marks, any dents, any ruptures that might mean you won’t survive the journey. You hope the heater is working, poor though it is, as otherwise you’ll freeze to death even if the container is overcrowded.

  “You hope there’s enough water loaded for the journey, otherwise thirst is what will get you. There’s no food. Anyone who survives gets fed at the other end… if they look strong enough to recover from their ordeal. The rest are killed.

  “Entering one of those transports is almost impossible to describe. There’s the smells. There’s the sense of past fear and pain radiating off the walls. There’s the cold, damp feeling to the air that the heater never manages to drive out.

  “As the transport starts to move you hold each breath, wondering if it will be the last you ever have, if a hole in the transport will leak all the air and heat out. Some people cry, some just sit and stare at nothing, some try to put on a brave face.

  “The uncertainty is one of the worst parts. Is the trip going to be a few hours, a few days or even longer? Where will you end up? Will it be even worse than what you left, impossible though that often feels? If you had friends, or a lover, separated into another group will you ever see them again?

  “The lighting is dim, if it works at all. Travelling in the pitch black isn’t unusual, or huddled round a single emergency light if the guards were feeling charitable.

  “Then, when you realise you aren’t dying immediately, other worries come in. The transport is cold, icily cold, even with a working heater. It’s a cold that worms its way into your body and your thoughts. Soon you’re wondering whether the heater is failing. Wondering if you are slowly freezing to death.

  “Most people pick a spot and stay there, except when they need to drink or piss. As the flight goes on people start to group together, huddling close to try and keep warm.”

  Now her voice dropped even lower.

  “I still have nightmares about finding myself back on one of those transports, with no idea where I am or where I will be going.”

  Jess just nodded as Sal paused. Ali had tears rolling down her face and even Elizabeth looked stricken.

  “Despite all that,” Sal continued. “On the longer flights you reached a point where you didn’t want the flight to end. The cold, the hunger and the lack of anything happening combine and leave you feeling at peace. That’s a state prisoners very rarely get to enjoy.

  “You know when the journey ends you’ll be shoved back into a life of pain and hardship. Tales of the worst places you could end up run through your mind, and believe me there are many of them. You end up hoping the flight never ends, or even that you die, slipping away peacefully rather than returning to the world of pain.”

  She looked at each of the others in turn, measuring the impact of her words, then continued in a much fiercer tone.

  “Right now there are prisoners on those transports going through exactly that. People, and probably children, who are terrified they’ll be dead in a few minutes and almost as worried they won’t be, that their death will be lingering rather than quick. You need to understand what is going on here, and what it is like for those on the transports. You need to understand what your decisions mean.”

  “I hadn’t forgotten,” Jess said.

  His voice was firm and steady, and his eyes were hard. Sal could tell he was remembering his own experiences of the prisoner transports.

  “I didn’t know,” Elizabeth said. “I thought prisoners were always worth too much money to treat so badly. Not enough to treat well, of course, but enough to be worth keeping alive.”

  “For most organisations, maybe,” Sal replied. “I don’t know. Not the Empire. They’ve got massive numbers available, and they never sell slaves, so to them all slaves are disposable and without worth.”

  “We have to free them,” Ali insisted. “We can’t leave them to…”

  “No!” Jess snapped out. “No. We don’t make a decision yet. This is new to you, shocking. Spend a few hours thinking about it, and about what failing the contract would mean. We’d be hunted by the Empire, and probably by those who employed us for this job too. We would certainly blow any chance of them helping us. Both they and the Empire have pictures of us now, will be able to recognise us even if we change the Wanderer’s appearance again.”

  Sal stared at Jess in disbelief. How could he be saying this? He’d been through the same experience himself, had known what those in the transports were going through. Ali clearly felt the same as Sal, her face reflected her shock. Elizabeth looked thoughtful, though, as if Jess’s suggestion made some sense.

  “I need to check on the ship,” Jess said, turning sharply and heading towards the flight deck.

  Sal stared after him, trying to work out just what was going through his head.

  * * *

  “All prisoner transports loaded aboard the Wanderer,” Hackett announced. “She’s moving already, heading for safe jump distance. We’re continuing to escort her.”

  Dash nodded. With what he knew of Sal’s history he’d wondered whether carrying prisoners would prove to be a problem. Apparently it wasn’t, which made him question how much influence she had. The thought crossed his mind that her story wasn’t true, but he dismissed it. He was certain her distress at seeing Sovon, and the history which led to it, had been real.

  “Tell me what you’ve found out about our destination,” Dash said.


  He’d already reviewed the details, but sometimes hearing someone else summarise information shook out things he’d missed.

  “Platform 184CT is based in the Daspal system. Disruptions in jump space surrounding Daspal, and several neighbouring systems, mean there’s only a single safe route and that route ends with two days travel in real space.

  “Our records show two other routes into the system which are occasionally used by smugglers. Both are extremely narrow and are risky to use, and both involve a final leg in real space of over two days. With the strong military presence in the system very few smugglers are willing to risk those routes.”

  Dash nodded, he’d known all that information. Risky though they were, they provided potential escape routes that could prove critical.

  “Platform 184CT has no official listing,” Hackett continued. “Though that is standard for almost all installations in the system. We can be nearly certain it produces weapons, or components for weapons, as that’s the system’s chief export.

  “The sudden requirement for prisoners is interesting. Normally such a system would have a reserve of labour waiting to be deployed. Rushing in replacements suggests that reserve has already been used, and that in turn suggests something is chewing through them at a rapid rate. Without more information I can’t be certain what, but some form of radiation leak seems likely. Most other possibilities would be over too fast for us to ferry in replacements. They must be using all their regular transports, too, otherwise why ask for outside help?”

  “Well done. I hadn’t thought of that. Whatever they’re going to, it won’t be pleasant, will it?”

  Hackett grimaced. “No, Captain. Sorry, I know you try to look out for slaves where you can but… this time we can’t do anything.”

  “We could order the Wanderer to break off and take them somewhere safe,” Dash said.

  Hackett’s face reflected his shock. Dash chuckled and spoke again before Hackett could form his words.

 

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