“Yeah. Maybe. Let’s just hope he doesn’t alter the plan any.”
“Whatever happens,” Garret said standing to one side of the round room, “we must be prepared for any eventuality. We have our way in, providing Berricks doesn’t just kill everyone where they stand.”
“I don’t think he will,” Durante nodded towards Garret, his certainty of coming events never stronger. “He’ll want us alive. Now, remember, he might not be able to see you two, but he’s going to be very suspicious of the situation. If we all play it just as we’ve gone over the scenarios, we’ll be on the Invicta by eleven.”
Garret stretched his back, a pop echoing out. “Yes. All the more reason to be extra cautious. You’ve sold it so far, I think. But, like you said, he’s suspicious. We need to be ready to call the operation off on a moment’s notice.”
“That’s why we’ll be targeting the waverider’s weaponry forward and towards the logical landing zone,” Aidele said and looked to Durante. “You’re sure he’ll land in the most central location of the bluff?”
“Absolutely,” Durante replied. “There’s a wall of stone twenty feet tall surrounding the only entrance into the place via Aquila Mons. The other end opens out onto an airlock unto the Tharsis Bulge itself. You’ll all get a real good view of the Martian landscape from there. It all acts as an isolated area that he’ll have total ability to scan from the center. Sensors will be looking for anomalies. His eyes will be scanning for an ambush. It’s essentially a kill zone. For us. And we’re going to use that to our advantage.”
“Not worried about a sudden, certain death should the shields fail?” Aidele twitched a grin.
Durante stifled his own. “The waverider is nerve wracking. However, the shielding network surrounding Aquila Mons has stood for centuries having withstood extrasolar strikes from kilometer wide iron dense asteroids. I’m not worried about the PSN holding.”
“Fair enough,” Aidele gave him a wink.
“So, we’re all agreed,” Drevan leaned forward on the curved couch he was lounging on, “none of us are to take Berricks for granted?”
“Darlin’, there ain’ a gawddamn one o’us gonna take that miserable sumbitch fer granted,” Asta replied, her smile wide despite the nervous trepidation palpable in the room.
“Amen,” Garret nodded.
Aidele crossed her arms and looked from one to another. “Alright. We all ready ta git goin’ then?”
“Yung’un, ah’ve been ready since ah first me the bastard.” Asta grinned.
Each in turn nodded their assent. Aidele sighed, satisfied and eager. “Okay. Then let’s git out there’n see what kinda damage we ken do. Watch yer asses.”
The group all stood and one by one filed out of the holobar.
AN HOUR LATER, the group stood waiting for Berricks on Gülsen’s Point. As Durante had mentioned, the view of the Martian surface was astounding. A flat plain ran for as far as the eye could see, and was littered with stone of the deepest reds, highlights with patches of cerulean blue. On the very horizon itself, bulges of stone and dirt formed nearly mountainous zones. In the distance, a dust storm brewed up ruddy red sand and threatened to cover wide swaths of the desert plains. Already it was hindering their view of a far away Mons. Which it was, Aidele couldn’t be certain.
The land before them and off the plateau slowly inched down a decline until it dead ended into the Plasmic Shielding Network. In the center, at ground level, was the circular airlock wide enough for a shuttle to enter. It wouldn’t be closed much longer as they saw a ship descending from the skies and leveling off over the surface. Within minutes, a Union shuttle was beyond the outer airlock. It slowly entered through and hovered in the center of the enclosed tunnel as the outer doors closed and the interior pressurization readjusted to the Aquilan atmospherics.
Asta tensed as the shuttle entered, her hand resting on the butt of her revolver. Beside her, Drevan stood with a set jaw. Durante glanced over his shoulder and towards an alcove along the long curving stone wall. There, though he couldn’t see them, awaited Garret and Aidele on the waverider. A nervous anxiety filled him. He was sure the waverider would make orbit, but this would be the first official test of its capabilities in that regard. He didn’t like taking this sort of chance (even though it was all his idea), but he also knew they had no other real options.
Everyone held their breath as the shuttle approached. A minute after exiting the airlock, the vessel lowered to the area directly center of the plateau. Just as Durante had predicted. Dust blew everywhere and they were nearly blinded by said dust and deafened by the whirling engines as the shuttle powered down to a low whine. The shuttle settled on its landing struts and, a minute later, a ramp extended to the ground. Inside, they saw Berricks standing in the center of the cramp confines, his fists braced on his hips, his duster brushed back and revolvers easily accessible. To both sides and behind him were two troopers waiting for his word. They kept looking to him as he stood there for a long moment in that intimidating pose, eyes hidden under the shadow cast by his Grey Lance. But his white whiskers reflected the diffuse lighting dancing all around him.
Like a mustachioed wraith… Durante thought as a chill cascaded up his torso. …Harbinger of death.
After another half minute, Berricks took five long steps and was almost to the end of the ramp. Nobody had yet said anything. To Durante, it looked like it’d already become a standoff. To his sides and behind him, Asta and Drevan stood ready to fight, eyes locked on the tall man before them. Berricks took stock of the immediate environ, his eyes focusing methodically on every detail. Then, casually stared at Asta.
“Well, Lynch, ya got me here. I don’t see any ambush. Course, with you lot, that don’t mean a whole gawddamned lot.” He continued scanning the Point and all its nooks. His gaze fell upon the alcove and hovered there for too long a moment. Durante nearly panicked but managed to force himself not to follow Berricks’ gaze. There was a backup contingency, of course. Well, two. One for if they had to shoot their way out. He hoped desperately that one wouldn’t be implemented. And the other for if Berricks actually took Asta up on her offer. In which case, Aidele would still follow the shuttle up to the Invicta. They’d be down two backup gunslingers, but Durante was confident in Aidele’s competency in gun fighting.
The old general looked back to the group. If he noted anything (and Durante couldn’t see how he could have), he didn’t betray any revelation.
Asta clenched her jaw. “We done did what ya wanted. Now, swear to call off on all us, then Weiss’n the journal’s yers.”
“First, show me the journal.”
Asta pulled the book out of her inner coat pocket and held it forward. “Here it is.”
Berricks jutted his chin towards one of his troops indicating he should go and collect the book. The soldier did and returned it to Berricks, who took it cautiously and flipped through its pages. He didn’t glance up as he spoke.
“You’re awfully quiet, Weiss. Cat got your tongue?”
Durante swallowed, trying to drive down the growing fear in his belly and hoping beyond hope that his bluff would be well received. “I… I’m just sorry, general. I tried to get it back to you. I really did. But I kept getting swept up in… all this craziness!”
Not really a lie, he didn’t suppose.
“Uh huhn,” Berricks grunted prompting Asta to shake her head.
“Awright, yer part o’the deal!”
“An’ don’ try’n betray us. What ya did ta our children tol’ us more’n ‘nuff ‘bout you,” Drevan added pulling his gun and holding it to Durante’s head. Durante tried not to scream. “Or we’ll jus’ do him in now.”
Berricks licked his tongue inside his cheek, a little bulbous bulge visible behind the flesh. He gave the journal to a trooper. “Don’t make threats you have no intention on making good on, Mr. Polk.”
“Ah ain—”
“Get him to his feet and bring him onboard,” Berricks lifted a hand, cutting
Drevan off.
Durante looked up and back to see Drevan frowning.
“Nothin’ doin’!” Asta howled drawing Durante’s attention to her. She seemed legitimately angry. “Ah want what we were promised!”
Berricks just glared and spoke evenly. “I never made you no promises, Lynch. Here’s the thing, it’s rational enough to want to be left alone. Demand your children left out of our little dance. However, I still ain’t sold on it just being you three. Now, get Weiss on his feet and onto the shuttle. Once on my ship, I’ll consider giving you your reprieve. I’d suggest, though, giving me your cooperation. Or I’ll just have the boys here cut you all down, take the journal, and call it a day. I’ll give you to the count of—”
“Fine,” Asta relented, holding up her hands.
She and Drevan went to help Durante to his feet and heard Berricks once more. “Wait.”
“Ya said ta—” Asta began, but he ignored her.
“Toss yer pieces.” He glared down at them and they looked like they would argue the point.
One glance at the soldiers, though, and they complied. The soldiers tensed up, their own weapons trained on them. Asta looked to Drevan and together they pulled and tossed their revolvers to the dirt and escorted Durante onboard. Berricks stood aside.
“You can be smart when you want to, Lynch.”
She glared at him prompting a deep smile. Asta turned back towards the interior and Berricks gave one last look around outside, his gaze falling back to the alcove for a moment Durante noted. Then he turned back inside the shuttle as the ramp retracted, the door clicked closed, and the vessel raised up into the air.
“AH HATE THAT man…” Aidele muttered. Grandfather grunted behind her. “So, so much.”
She turned down the reception on the shields that she’d modulated to hear the conversation (another trick Durante had figured out how to accomplish, turning the shielding into an audio conveyor), every deep, guttural word spoken by Berricks still raw in her head.
“He has definitely gotten meaner since when I last knew him,” Grandfather replied. “Course, he was always mean. And a traitor.”
They saw the shuttle lift off and Aidele thumbed the controls to follow. “Hope the tunnel locks stay open long enough.”
“Stay within forty-feet and it shouldn’t be an issue. Should be enough room in the locking canal, though.”
Aidele nodded and pushed the waverider forward to within close proximity of the shuttle. “Here goes everything.”
THE SHUTTLE SLIPPED through and past the transit tunnel towards the Martian atmosphere and rose up towards orbit where waited the Invicta. Inside the small vessel sat Sam, his three prisoners, two soldiers, and two pilots. An energy scan had been run while Sam was having his little negotiation with Lynch, but nothing had been uncovered. No snipers, ambushes, or government troopers, either. This unnerved Sam more than anything else as he riffled through the journal. Even the book was legitimate.
The bitch meant it. She brought me Weiss and the journal… None of this feels right. Even reports of the lab’s destruction and Nielson’s death checked out. They’d lost an entire regiment of troops in the process as well. Just as Lynch had suggested. Yet, there was one nagging detail the woman hadn’t mentioned. When Nielson had been gunned down, the reports made mention of a second shooter. The report had been vague, as usual (the Council’s lack of concern about the showdown had caused him to shake his head), but the descriptions had been clear enough. A young Chuhukon woman had been there as well. In fact, she was the one to file the report to begin with. And her name was Aidele Wilson.
Sam looked up at Asta who stared at the wall across from her and ignored the soldiers strapped in there. She was quiet with a calm demeanor. She was so credible he almost wanted to believe her. Almost.
So, where’s the Wilson brat, Lynch? Oh no, it didn’t feel right at all. And it stunk of a trap. The only problem, he couldn’t see what it was. He looked back to the journal, flipping through the pages yet again. The professor had been a busy bee and had a lot of inventive designs within that could prove quite useful to the Union. But nothing in it that would point to a prototype that would be used against him. He’d found the rough schematics for young Ms. Wilson’s guns and was certain their scientists could figure out how to recreate the weapons. Those would prove very useful in Union arsenals.
There was a design for a hovering vehicle, which would put their all-terrain marauders to shame. An entry that was almost all a train-of-thought exercise in developing an interface drive that was holographic and could be worn on the wrist. A startingly simple design for an oven that required no heat to cook food. And, of course, the gravitic core that suggested utilization in a capital ship.
He must have had other journals then. Did they find a journal that held a secret weapon? But what? What are you missing, Sam? What are you missing? The whole journal was meant for Wilson’s wife, obviously. Outfitting a Red Star Sheriff. That fucking order. But how could all of this be used in conjunction? What did Weiss discover in this tome? You know they didn’t just come to surrender him and this book. No, they wanted you there, son. They wanted you to come get them. You couldn’t just leave well enough alone, leave them to their fates, do your job as commanded. No, you had to be curious and acquire this damnable journal. Still, the technology inside… We need to move fast. Get ahead of whatever they’re planning.
He rubbed his nose and sniffled. Then a thought came to him. That alcove… There was something off about it. Like the air was buzzing with insects. But Aquila Mons ain’t got no insects. And they were… purple? A trick of the eyes, maybe? Then why are you focusing on it so much, Sam? What are you missing?
He shut the journal and leaned back. “You done us a great service, Lynch. You’ll be well rewarded. I promise.”
Lynch glared at him in that devilish way of hers. Oh, she was fierce. Even when the odds were stacked against her, she was ready for a fight. He had to admit, he admired that about her. Of course, she sure wasn’t a smiler.
“Believe me, if’n ah had the choice, ah’d sooner put a bullet in Weiss’ head, then hand ‘m over ta ya.”
Oh, I’m sure. But then again, that’s not the plan, is it?
“Nothin’ stronger than a mother’s love,” Sam nodded. “You have my word, Lynch. Your children won’t have anything more to fear from me once our business is concluded. In fact, once all is said and done, I’m headin’ back to Earth and retirin’ to my plantation in Georgia.”
“Good fer you,” Asta quipped. “Hope nobody burns it down ‘fer ya git there.”
Sam raised a brow and chuckled. “I doubt it. I’m not hiding any secrets from the Union.” He sighed. “When we get to the ship, I have something to show you. Then, our business will be concluded. As for you, Weiss, we’ve prepared special quarters for you. Room and board as a way to say thanks for all your service.”
Durante leaned forward, “Mr. Berricks, as I’ve been trying to tell you, I was trying to get the journal to you! But, as I was escaping, these… savages… started shooting at me! How was I supposed to get back to you under those conditions?”
“You can plead your case at your court martial,” Sam clasped his hands between his knees, journal clutched tightly in his palms, and stared deep into Durante’s eyes. “Make no mistake, though. I don’t give two fucks about your excuses. You tol’ me two days. It’s going on two months. You’re AWOL for all I’m concerned.”
He leaned back as Durante bit his lip. There was dead silence in the ship with the exception of the thrumming of the engines and a slight shudder as the shuttle transitioned from the stratosphere into orbital space.
THE DREADNOUGHT APPEARED out of the darkness of space as it curved around the horizon of Hinon. Aidele’s heart pounded heavier and she tried to keep her focus on the shuttle just beyond them. They would need to land silently somewhere in the shuttle bay. But her eyes kept drifting to the red planet. Not to mention the depth of space below where her feet rest
ed on the pedals. Stars eons away twinkled in their long shining lives. It was dizzying and she had the sensation that any move she made would result in her falling off and spiraling into the cosmos forever. If not for the shielding, she might be having an actual panic attack.
She still had the shields modulated to pick up sound, which meant she could hear an eerie pulse humming all around them. The sounds of space.
Pulsars, and vibrations, and shuttle thrusters, oh my!
It filled her with even more panic, yet, it was also somehow soothing. Much more so than if she’d silenced it and sat in the containment of their own gravitational environment. The silence would’ve been unbearable. And, had that been the case, she wasn’t so sure she could’ve stopped herself from turning right back around from this madness. Being in orbit of her home world was immediately the most thrilling thing she’d ever done, and the most frightening.
Stop focusing on all that, girl. Ya got a job ta do…
Her focus returned to the shuttle. She forced herself to ignore the enormity of space. The shining moons of Phobos and Deimos. The billions (trillions even!) of stars twinkling in tiny little pinpricks of a thousand different colors of vivid light. Never in her life, though, had she seen such a view, or had such an awesome sense of insignificance.
The dreadnought grew closer, more immense. But, even in its size (one that would have intimidated her before), it was a tiny manmade vessel that was inconsequential compared to the cosmos. That was something she could work with.
The shuttle angled towards the port with plasma shielding covering its entrance and the vessel began to enter. She reached for the panel at her fingertips. She was going to have to time this precisely, lest she alert the crew to her presence. Sure, they were invisible to the naked eye, as well as to the Invicta’s sensors. But they were still a physical presence that, not modulated right, would leave a vacant spot in the shields hard to miss. Or, she supposed, they would be completely obliterated as the shields collapsed into one another. Probably taking out the whole bay in the process. One way to kill Berricks, she supposed. Though Asta, Drevan, and Durante would be having a really bad day as a result.
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