The Money Star

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The Money Star Page 24

by Jon Lymon


  “Yeah, I know, I know. I’ve had a think about that too and there is something we could use to our advantage.” He nodded in the direction of the robotic arm, folded flush against the starboard flank of the ship. “I don’t think anyone wants that coming through their cockpit windscreen at high speed, do you?”

  “There’s something coming through on the radio, if anyone’s interested,” Bettis announced. All three rushed over to him. They heard three short beeps followed by three long beeps then three more short beeps.

  “Morse code,” said DT.

  Bettis nodded. “Someone’s in trouble.”

  “It’s hardly surprising,” said DT. “There are a lot of badly built ships up here looking for the asteroid. I’m surprised we haven’t heard more distress calls.”

  “What should we do?” Aurora asked.

  “No more diversions,” said DT. “We’re heading straight home.”

  Everyone looked to Remnant for a reaction. “What? I’m with you on this,” he said.

  Bettis pointed to a dot on the radar screen.

  “Is that them?” DT asked.

  Bettis held up a finger to silence the crew. “There’s more to the message.” A less easy to decipher combination of short and long beeps followed which Bettis’ expert ear translated with ease. ‘Desperately need food. Have run out of food. Please help. SOS.’

  “So it’s not their ship that’s letting them down, it’s their chef,” said Aurora.

  “We could spare some food, couldn’t we?” said Remnant.

  “No way,” said Bettis. “We’ve no idea what could happen on the way home. I’m certainly not giving away any of mine.”

  Remnant looked to DT. “I’d like to, my friend, but I’ve been feeling weak for the last few days. I’m not sure I can spare it.”

  “They can have some of mine if they want it,” Remnant said. “I can go without for a bit. Done it enough times before. And it’s not like I’m giving up a seat at The Ritz, is it?”

  “They can have some of mine too,” said Aurora.

  “What if it’s a trap? They could be pirates,” said DT.

  “We’ve got nothing that would interest pirates,” said Remnant.

  Whoever was up ahead, they weren’t travelling at any great speed. As they closed in, Bettis confirmed the dot on the radar was indeed the ship in distress. “We could pretend we didn’t see them,” he said. “Change our direction slightly and leave them to it. It could be a trap. It could be anyone.”

  “It ain’t gonna cost us much to help them out,” said Remnant. “Just pull alongside and I’ll pop over with a couple of boxes.”

  “Sye, you are making it sound as though it is as easy as taking a cup of sugar to the next door neighbour,” said DT.

  “That’s cos I’m a bit nervous. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

  The crew could now see the other ship through the cockpit windscreen. It was a small but well made vessel whose livery bore the stars and stripes.

  “Ah, come on, we’ve definitely got to help the Yanks out,” said Remnant. “You’d never forgive us, would you Aurora?”

  She smiled at him.

  “Well, let’s make it quick,” said DT. “We are not a charity.”

  Remnant grabbed a couple of boxes of food from the galley and his oxygen mask from the cabin. He looked at himself in the cabin mirror and saw Aurora move into the reflection behind him.

  “Bettis has sent the ship a message that you wish to board. They’ve OK’d it.”

  Remnant breathed deeply and nodded.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

  “It’s just a little favour innit? Not much. Just a friendly gesture between allies.”

  As Bettis manoeuvred the ship under the American vessel, Remnant kissed Aurora on the cheek before pulling on his oxygen mask and grabbing the food. She opened the door to the hold and smiled at him as he walked in.

  The perspex tube slowly elevated Remnant out through the top of the Baton Uric. He breathed deeply, not really understanding why he’d been so keen to help out the stricken ship. At least it gave him the chance to feel good on what had been a mission full of disappointment. He entered the American vessel through its underside. He’d expected starving hands to snatch the food from him, but there was no one to greet him when the rising platform came to a halt in a square hallway.

  His heart rate doubled. What if Bettis was right and this was a trap? What if they thought they had diamond aboard the Baton Uric and were going to take him hostage?

  Cautiously, he removed his mask and sniffed the air, relieved to find it contained oxygen.

  “Hello?” he called out. No answer.

  He had four closed doors to choose between. The nearest, to his right, was locked. But the next opened onto a cockpit that was only slightly bigger than the Baton Uric’s. Up ahead, a man’s head tilted back over the pilot’s seat. His long hair and beard reminded Remnant of the clichéd image of pirates.

  “Hello?” Remnant repeated.

  The man didn’t move. Remnant edged towards him, gently placing the food boxes on the floor along the way. He reached the back of the man’s seat and slowly peered round at his face. His eyes were shut, and what skin wasn’t covered by thick whiskers was wretchedly pale. Remnant leaned in close and detected weak breathing. He shook the man’s shoulders. His eyes flicked open, their redness startling Remnant. The man recoiled, shocked to see a stranger on board, but Remnant’s pacifying palms calmed him. He pointed to the food boxes on the cockpit floor. The man turned, saw them and pushed past Remnant. He ripped into the nearest box, tearing off the paper lid to a box of chilli con carne and devouring the dehydrated contents. The first crunches tasted good to the man, but sounded like breaking teeth to Remnant.

  The man grabbed a second box.

  “Don’t you think you should add water to that and heat it up?” Remnant asked.

  The man paused, then nodded and rushed out of the cockpit with his box of food, much like an ape taking his meal back to his den.

  While he was gone, Remnant checked out the jacket that was hanging over the back of the man’s seat. His pockets were empty. The name ‘M Krugler’ on the pockmarked badge meant nothing to him.

  M Krugler returned, hands shovelling warm chilli out of the plastic tray and into his starving mouth.

  “What’s the M stand for?” Remnant asked, pointing to the jacket.

  “Mo,” he croaked in between mouthfuls. The difficulty the pilot had speaking suggested it had been a while since he’d conversed with anyone.

  “My name’s Sye.”

  M Krugler shook Remnant’s hand weakly but enthusiastically. “I got to thank you for answering the call, mate. Didn’t think anyone would. I thought we were over.”

  “We?” Remnant asked.

  “Mmmm, there’s another guy in the cabin.”

  “Won’t he be hungry too?”

  M Krugler finished his dish and then disappeared with boxes of food. While he was gone, Remnant took another look around the cockpit. The controls looked far more complicated than those aboard the Baton Uric. A maze of complex lights and dials and screens and needles. But the ship’s engines were far quieter than the ones Remnant had grown used to. There was little else of interest, and Remnant was conscious of DT’s eagerness to get going. He didn’t want to hang around but thought he’d better see if the other guy was OK before leaving.

  He heard the ping of the microwave, and a celebratory yell. Then M Krugler returned to the cockpit, followed by a pale-looking Errol Haygue.

  Remnant stood and Haygue rushed to embrace him.

  “Wow, what can I say. The Brits to the rescue, huh?”

  Remnant nodded.

  “Well, that’s a favour returned, wouldn’t you say?”

  Remnant looked confused.

  “We bailed you out in the Second, right? So I guess we’re quits.”

  Remnant smiled weakly.

  “I’m Errol by the wa
y,” said Haygue, shaking Remnant’s hand firmly before stuffing more food into his mouth. “What brings you all the way out here?” he asked.

  “Same reason as everyone else.”

  Haygue glanced at M Krugler and back to Remnant. “The old diamond asteroid huh? You get lucky?”

  Remnant shook his head. “It got blown up before we could get to it.”

  “What? Somebody blew it up? Who the fuck would do that? That’s why we couldn’t find it, Krugler.” Krugler was too busy eating to acknowledge the lie. Haygue edged back towards the cockpit door. “Well, I’m sure you’re itching to get home as much as we are.” Haygue beckoned Remnant to follow him out of the cockpit door. “Myself and my pilot are eternally grateful for the good deed you’ve done.”

  Remnant walked into the hallway and stood on the floor plinth that would lower him back to his ship. He shook Haygue’s hand and then M Krugler’s.

  “You need to press that button, Haygue,” M Krugler told the veteran.

  “Ah, sorry, of course.”

  Remnant smiled. But in an instant his expression changed.

  He looked at the old man standing in front of him, pressing the button, smiling and waving goodbye, chilli con carne dribbling from a corner of his mouth. Remnant no longer heard what he was saying, just saw his lips moving, his hand slowly waving. He wanted to shout out ‘no’ but couldn’t. As the plinth started to lower him off the ship, Remnant jumped up and fell forward into Haygue’s arms.

  “Whoah, whoah, what’s going on here?” Haygue looked to M Krugler for help. Together, the two men dragged Remnant back into the cockpit and sat him in the co-pilot’s seat.

  Remnant shook his head, trying to act as dazed as he could. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me.”

  “Space does strange things to a man,” said Haygue. “You think I’m always this colour?”

  Remnant was having trouble looking at Haygue’s pale face at all. His mind was frantically trying to work out what to do. He knew he couldn’t overpower these two on his own, even though they’d been weakened by near-starvation. They’d fight hard to protect whatever they had on board. “I forgot to bring... er… we’ve got another box of food for you.”

  “No, no, you’ve been generous enough,” said Haygue. “I’m sure we’ll be fine with what you’ve given us.”

  “Hold on,” said the ravenous M Krugler. “Another wouldn’t hurt.”

  “It’s no problem,” said Remnant. “I could get my colleague to bring it on board. I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”

  “She?” said Haygue, raising his eyebrows at M Krugler. “Oh, I’m sure we can make time to meet a she. It’s been a while since either of us met a she hasn’t it?”

  M Krugler smiled weakly, concerned that his stomach was performing repeated somersaults following the first introduction of food to it for many days.

  “You mind if I use your radio?” Remnant asked.

  “Go ahead,” said M Krugler, pointing to the dashboard. “I’ve got to use the bathroom.”

  “You dirty bastard,” Haygue joked. “Getting all excited, huh?”

  M Krugler frowned then left. Haygue turned to see Remnant looking baffled by all the buttons in front of him, and Haygue flicked on the radio for him.

  “Hello everyone, it’s me. Sye. Er, this is a message for Aurora. Really need you on board here.”

  “What the Devil are you up to, Remnant?” Bettis’ voice was angry with impatience.

  “Let me speak to Aurora.”

  “That’s it man, you tell them who’s boss,” said Haygue tucking into another chilli.

  “Hello, Sye?” Aurora’s voice was calming and sounded sweet to Haygue’s ears.

  “Aurora, can you bring some of that killer chilli on board this ship?” Remnant asked.

  “What killer chilli?”

  “This American astronaut is really loving it. I think you’ll really want to meet him.”

  “And I sure want to meet you,” Haygue called out.

  “Killer,” Remnant repeated. “Killer chilli. Bring some, Aurora.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line.

  “I’m on my way,” said Aurora coolly.

  “Adda girl,” shouted Haygue.

  Remnant killed the radio connection and turned slowly to face Haygue. “So, you’ve been up in space a lot?” he asked him, grimacing at the banal nature of his question.

  Haygue nearly spat low-grade beef into Remnant’s face. “Once or twice,” he said. “It’s kind of what I do really, or used to be, until I got a little too grey in the hair, something you’d know a little about.”

  Remnant smiled, not knowing where next to take the conversation. He was glad to see M Krugler returning from the WC. “Ah, that was messy,” the burly South African said.

  “We got more on the way,” said Haygue.

  There were a few minutes of awkward silence before Aurora arrived on board. She pulled off her oxygen mask and looked at each of the men in turn.

  “This is Mo,” Remnant said, pointing to M Krugler. “And this is…”

  “Errol Haygue, ma’am. And what a pleasure it is to meet you.”

  M Krugler tried to take the box from Aurora, but she insisted that Haygue take it.

  “Guess she can see who’s in charge around here, right?” Haygue smiled.

  “I just want you to check there’s enough chilli in there for you,” she replied.

  “I’m sure there is,” he said, smiling at her. “Whereabouts in the States you from?”

  “Wyoming.”

  “I’m a New England man myself. Never been to Wyoming.”

  “Oh, you should, you should.”

  Haygue slowly began to open the box of food. “We’re the luckiest men alive, Krugler, and no mistake,” he said.

  He pulled up one flap of the box lid and paused. “You got any salmon in here, or steak maybe. Steak would be…”

  He lifted the other flap and looked up at Aurora, then over to Remnant, all trace of pleasure gone from his face.

  “What is this, some kind of sick joke?” Haygue asked. He pulled a photograph out of the box.

  “Do you know who that is?” Aurora asked.

  Haygue looked down at the photo. “Of course.”

  “Do you know who I am?” she asked.

  Haygue shook his head.

  “Take a wild one,” said Aurora.

  “I’m not in the habit of taking a wild anything,” he said. “But at a guess, I’d say you’re DeMarriott’s girlfriend or significant other?”

  “Wife.”

  “Ah, he never mentioned he was married.”

  “We had three kids together.” Haygue looked at her blankly. “He never mentioned them either, I guess?”

  “I can’t divulge any information about a former employee, I’m afraid. It’s all classified.”

  “What’s going on here?” M Krugler asked.

  Aurora’s gaze hadn’t left Haygue. “You killed my husband.”

  “Whoah,” said M Krugler, takenaback by the accusation aimed at his captain.

  “Your husband failed in his mission, pure and simple. I paid him well for…” Haygue stopped himself mid-sentence.

  “I received no money,” said Aurora.

  “The terms of your husband’s contract stated that payment would only be made upon the successful completion of the mission.”

  “Shall we take a look in your hold? Aurora suggested. If we find diamond in there, I’d say the mission’s pretty much complete, wouldn’t you?”

  Aurora saw Haygue glance at M Krugler and took that as a signal to act. She pulled her laser gun from her jacket.

  M Krugler jumped to his feet, but Remnant pushed him back down. “Now, lads, we can make this easy, or we can make it fucking difficult,” said Remnant. “We know you’ve got gems on board and we ain’t leaving without some.”

  “There’s no diamond on this ship,” said Haygue. “You said yourself it got blown up.”


  “Yeah, but not before you got your hands on some. I was on Mars when it happened. I was in the SEC facility.”

  “How the hell did you get in the SEC facility?”

  “That doesn’t matter. What matters is I saw a ship launch before the place went up. It was this ship, weren’t it? You got away then blew the place up.”

  “What?” Haygue was confused.

  “And you killed my kids,” Aurora yelled, pushing the barrel of her gun hard into Haygue’s right temple.

  “What kids, where?” Haygue was genuinely shocked.

  “Gasoline Alley.”

  “Hold on a minute. Those explosions on Mars were nothing to do with SEC or the US. Nothing,” he yelled. “Do you think we’d do something like that? Do you think we wanted media attention focused on Mars with what we were up to? Those bombs were the work of terrorists. Nothing to do with us.”

  “What were you up to on Mars?”

  “I’m afraid that’s classified information.”

  “How about we have a look in the hold and see what we can see?” said Remnant.

  “Be my guest,” said Haygue. “I’d take you there myself, but for this gun in my head.”

  Aurora withdrew the barrel far enough to give Haygue room to slowly get to his feet and straighten his shirt. “Well, this turned into a great party, didn’t it?” he said to the other three.

  “Just lead the way,” said Aurora. She waited for Haygue and M Krugler to leave the cockpit before walking alongside Remnant behind them.

  “Where do you want to look first?” Haygue called out.

  “One door at a time will do,” said Remnant. They looked in the galley and the cabin and the toilet which still bore the stench scars from M Krugler’s recent visit, until finally they reached the door at the back of the ship.

  “This is the engine room,” said Haygue. “We keep it locked.”

  “Unlock it,” said Remnant.

  “There’s a nuclear engine in there. Unlocking it will contaminate all of us.”

  “I don’t give a shit. Unlock it.”

  Haygue patted down his jacket. “I don’t have the keys.” He looked to M Krugler, who did likewise. With a flash of cutting silver, M Krugler pulled out a knife and hurled it at Remnant’s head. Remnant’s surprisingly quick reactions, combined with the slight inaccuracy of the throw, enabled him to dodge the spinning weapon which lodged itself in the far wall. Haygue aimed a kick at the laser gun in Aurora’s hand, but age prevented his kick reaching the required height. In a flash, she grabbed his ankle and threw the old man to the floor, digging the barrel of her gun even more deeply into his temple.

 

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