Retribution (The Long Haul Book 2)

by Geoff North

  Charm’s cat attempted to climb over onto Loke’s lap. He swatted the animal away lightly. “I found out all I need to know about them last night. Everyone on Earth will treat us like traitors if we go there. You think its bad here with the bullies at school? I’d rather keep on taking our chances with starvers than have to put up with any of that.”

  Charm gathered the new pet back into her lap. “So you believe all that stuff she said about aliens running everything? You really think Dad and Grampa stole that spaceship to go fight the Alder-mans?”

  “I like to think so. It means they might still be alive out there somewhere.” Loke surveyed the dirty sky above. “And if what Mom says is true, it also means they’re only about half done their trip.” He pointed up to a particularly dense cloud to the northeast. “They set out that way before we were even born. They won’t get to Alderamin until we’re all grown up.”

  Charm sighed. “I’ll probably be married and have kids of my own before they come home. Space travel must be the most boring thing ever.”

  “I don’t think they’re coming home… not if they succeed with their mission. And even if they did, Dad would be really old, and Grampa would be long dead.”

  Charm punched Loke’s shoulder hard enough to knock him off his concrete perch. “Don’t talk like that! They’re gonna save us from the Alder-mans, and we’re gonna meet them some day. Dad and Grampa.”

  Loke pulled himself back up. The hard object in his jacket pocket fell into the dust between their feet.

  “Is that a gun?” Charm asked incredulously. She pulled the mask away from her face for a better look. “Did you steal that from Mom?”

  He shoved it quickly back into his pocket. “I didn’t steal anything. It was in that room under our house. That makes it Edmund property, so I get to use it just like Mom. I’ll put it back when I’m done with it.”

  “Done with it? You don’t even know how to use a gun.”

  “Point, pull trigger. Yeah, that’s real difficult.”

  Charm hugged her cat tightly and shifted away from her brother, half-expecting the weapon to blow all three of them up at any moment. “What are you gonna do with it?”

  “Can’t tell you. Revolutionists keep things secret.”

  “So you’re a revolutionist now? Wow, that’s pretty good, and you’re not even in seventh grade yet.”

  Loke stood, shoved his hands defiantly into his pockets, and started down the rubble pile. “Don’t make fun of me,” he called back. “I’m not going to Earth. I’m going to help Mom and her friends take Mars back from the bad people.”

  “How?” Charm’s cat dug its back claws into her belly and pushed away as the girl started following. She let out a small yelp and released it. “Hey! Wait for me! Who’re you gonna shoot?”

  “August Hegstad,” Loke answered without hesitation.

  Charm stumbled in the apartment building wreckage as she tugged the breathing mask back over her face. “This is crazy. Hegstad’s like ten times bigger than you. I’m telling Mom.”

  “Tell her anything, and I’ll shoot your cat.”

  She didn’t say another word on the way down. Charm didn’t believe her brother would actually harm the animal, but even making the threat showed how serious he was.

  In the distance, a fourth chimney stack ceased belching smoke.

  Chapter 15

  “This is Captain Rastaban Drac of the Sol Ship Ambition… please respond.”

  Rastaban listened as the automated hail was sent between ships for the tenth time. He continued to gnaw lightly at one scarred knuckle, staring at the vessel hanging on the view screen before him, attempting to come to grips with what he was seeing. It could have been a Pegan vessel sitting seven and a half kilometers in front of Ambition. It could have belonged to the Alderamins, or any number of alien civilizations they had never encountered before.

  But it wasn’t alien.

  The word RETRIBUTION was emblazoned in deep red across its forward hull. This ship was from the Sol star system—the people onboard were from the planet Earth. And in a sense, that made it seem even more alien. Rastaban and his entire crew were people of the stars. For hundreds of years, Ambition’s children had been born in outer space. They lived their lives in the cosmos, and they died in the infinite emptiness. Most of them had never set foot on a planetary surface—none ever on Earth.

  “Why Retribution?” Someone asked beneath him.

  Captain Drac raised an eyebrow—he only had one—and looked down at his CS. “What?”

  Command Second Vin Vir asked the question again. “Why Retribution? Why would Earth name a starship Retribution? Was it constructed solely to avenge us, or are things so bad back home, all vessels bear ominous titles?”

  Drac didn’t have a good answer, so he asked a question of his own. “Why call us Ambition? We were sent to destroy an alien civilization. They should’ve named our ship Glory, or War-bound. Hell, the SS Fire-First-Ask-Questions-Later would’ve been more appropriate.”

  The robotic construct, Nash, clomped his way to the command dais and stood next to Vin. “Ambition was a mining ship long before it was refitted and sent to wage war. The title made a lot more sense back in the twenty-third century when Ganymede Unlimited, Kuiper Belt Power, and half a dozen other corporate entities were in control. Our main concern now shouldn’t be why the ship we rescued is named what it is, but why have they refused to reply to our hails?”

  Rastaban rose from the command chair, stepped down from the dais, and joined his officers. “We don’t know if they’re refusing to talk to us.” He clapped a hand against Nash’s big metallic arm. “Their ability to communicate may have been damaged during the battle with those Pegan ships. I’m surprised that mechanical mind of yours would jump to such a conclusion.”

  “I do not jump to conclusions, Captain. Our sensor scans of the ship detect minimal damage. One of the last systems to fail on any star-faring vessel is her ability to communicate internally and externally. It is my opinion that Retribution, for whatever reason, chooses not to speak with us.”

  “Maybe we should’ve tried talking to them earlier,” Vin offered. “We shouldn’t have kept our silence when we intercepted their first transmission.”

  The captain shook his head slowly. “I still believe that would’ve been a bad decision.” He made his way to the communication station and spoke to the woman seated there. “Let’s hear the Edmund message, Argus.”

  Argus Cor queued the audio file onto the screen above her control board and pressed play. The crackling voice of Retribution’s commander filled the bridge speakers through a soft background wash of interstellar static. “To Captain Shain Agle of the Sol Ship Ambition—Edmund, commander of the warship Retribution. Your distress call has been received. We are on the—”

  “Nash probably has it right,” the captain said after Argus cut the feed. “Retribution could very well have rescued Agle by now. And if he has them believing he was the captain of Ambition, Sol only knows what other lies he may have told them. I’d be suspicious of us too if I were them.” He looked to the robot hoping for some sign of approval. The mechanical behemoth had been more than an assistant to Captain Sulafat—he’d been Ly’s friend. It was foolish to believe that same kind of relationship could transfer over to Ambition’s new captain, but Rastaban always found himself trying. There wasn’t even a face to read, just a slightly rounded plate of featureless white metal, housing a cybertronic mass of mechanical circuits controlled by organic engrams behind it.

  Captain Drac’s automated hail sounded again throughout the bridge.

  “It’s been twenty-two minutes,” Vin said. “Twenty-two minutes of us just sitting here waiting for them to say ‘hello’, or ‘thanks for saving our asses’. Maybe we should try something else.”

  Rastaban climbed back up the command dais steps and sank into his chair. He rubbed at the purple scars covering the right side of his face. It had been almost a year since the fighter mishap. Ten mo
nths and a handful of days since Nail’s pilot canopy had blown out and disfigured his face in the resulting decompression. He heard Vin clear her throat—a signal telling him to stop what he was doing. Rastaban lowered the hand. “We could send a shuttle, see if they open their doors and let us in.”

  Nash finally spoke again. “I wouldn’t recommend it. That ship may be half the size of Ambition, but they outgun us three to one. A smaller craft sent towards them could be interpreted as a hostile action. None of our remaining shuttles would last long if they decided to open fire.”

  “Surely they realize by now we’re not the hostile force out here,” Vin said. “How long are we going to wait?”

  “This is Captain Rastaban Drac of the Sol Ship Ambition… please respond.”

  Rastaban settled back into the chair. The fingers of his right hand were scratching at the dead flesh of his cheek again. “Ambition has been out here for seven centuries. We can afford to wait a little while longer.”

  ***

  “I can’t wait any longer! Let’s steal a fighter and go meet them.” Kella Sa turned from the window where the massive warship sat suspended in space and faced her husband. “You and I were the first humans to set foot on a world outside the Sol system. We were the very first people to meet an alien face to face.”

  Hail kissed Nova’s tiny forehead and lowered the baby into her crib. “You tried to shoot that alien if I remember correctly.”

  Kella went to her husband and wrapped an arm around his waist. “No, I shot near him. He fell and knocked his head against a vehicle hitch.” She pulled him tightly into her side. “Come on, where’s the Hail Vela I fell in love with? Where’s the man I shared the greatest adventure of my life with?”

  He smiled down at their child. “All the adventure I can handle finally fell back to sleep.”

  Kella reached for a dial on the wall. She adjusted it until the light above the crib was little more than an ambient pink glow. “Singing to her always helps. You have a beautiful voice. Soft. Sweet. She won’t be up again for hours now.” Kella led him to the couch she’d just vacated. They sat down together and looked back out through the window at Retribution.

  “Our days of exploring alien worlds are over, Kel.”

  “That isn’t a world, it’s a ship. And the people onboard aren’t aliens, they’re like you and me. Don’t you want to see what they’re like?”

  Hail rested his arm on the back of the couch. His fingers pressed up against the cool glass of the window. The ship seemed almost close enough to touch. “A part of me does. Another part of me wishes they would just… go away.”

  “They’re from Earth. They came to show us the way home.”

  “Ambition is our home,” he whispered. “It’s Nova’s home.”

  Kella could relate to her husband’s feelings. Almost everyone on Ambition had become anxious since the Retribution signal had been intercepted months earlier. It wasn’t fear, not exactly. It was more like a steadily growing apprehension. Ambition’s crew was preparing for a seismic meeting—another first contact of sorts. But it wasn’t Pegans or Alderamins they’d be introduced to for the first time; it was themselves. She tried to imagine what it must have been like for their ancient ancestors, separated from one another by the vastness of Earth’s oceans for thousands of years. What had it felt like that very first time seeing the great ships out in the water, sailing towards their shores? Australia, North America, Africa. How had those first contacts gone? In most cases, not all that well.

  Humankind is better than that now, Kella thought. She patted the back of Hail’s arm. “I don’t imagine we’ll be going back to Earth anytime soon. There’ll be plenty of time to watch our girl grow here.”

  He smiled at her. “So no more talk of stealing fighters and flying off to meet our long-lost relatives?”

  “Saying something you’d like to do out loud to the one you love and actually doing it are two different things. No more talk, okay?” She crawled across the cushions and settled into Hail’s chest, hoping her words had soothed his worries.

  He kissed the top of her head. “I’m not that stupid. You just promised you wouldn’t talk about it anymore. How do I know you won’t actually try it?”

  Nova started to cry. Kella rolled her eyes at the thought of another sleepless night. At least she didn’t have to answer his last question.

  “So much for hours.” Hail pushed her away gently. “Your turn to sing.”

  Chapter 16

  “You’re going to have to speak to them sooner or later, sir.”

  “Who?” Commander Edmund asked his navigation officer. “Who am I supposed to thank? Captain Rastaban Drac? According to Shain Agle, the man is a mutinous traitor.”

  Dr. Strong had been sending the bridge crew updates whenever their patient had more to say, and Shain Agle had been saying plenty. He was their direct—and only—link to the ancient ship still facing them head-on off Retribution’s port side.

  “I wouldn’t put much credence into what Agle has reported,” Colonel Simmons replied. “Not yet, anyway. The man was almost dead when we pulled him aboard. He could be suffering from delusions, hallucinating events that never occurred.”

  Edmund stood up from the stool, clasped his hands behind his back, and began walking around the tactics table. “Or everything he has said so far is the truth.” He paused behind Simmons. “Ambition has been overrun with Pegans. The Alderamins are involved as well. Admiral Neil Lennix is insane, colluding with these enemy forces, and disloyal officers like Ly Sulafat and Rastaban Drac are following him. If that’s the case, I’m in no hurry to open communications.”

  Major Weldheim spoke from across the table. “I agree with the commander, we must retain our silence.” He offered Simmons an apologetic smile. “I agree with you, Lornay. Everything Captain Agle has shared with us so far seems utterly insane, the ramblings of a mad man. But the longer we wait, the more time we have to fix the ship.”

  Marie Mara made a snorting sound next to Weldheim. “The damage to Retribution is considerable. We’re severely under-manned. We’ll never repair this ship fully without help, and the closest space dock is fifty light years behind us.”

  “We don’t need to repair the ship fully,” the science major countered. “Most of our weapons systems are still available, and Lieutenant Kelly has informed me the shields will be back up in less than forty-eight hours. We only need to wait long enough until we’re able to defend ourselves again.”

  “It’s been less than thirty minutes since they came upon us,” Gertsen said. “I don’t know how we’re going to be able to maintain this silence for two more days.”

  Commander Edmund was still moving slowly around the table. He stopped behind Corwin Barret. “You’ve been unusually silent. Do I even want to know what your opinion on all of this is?”

  The SIC was hunched over the table, his fingertips quietly tapping its smooth surface. “I’m an soldier… I think you know already what my opinion is.”

  “Give it to me anyway.”

  “Ambition is the biggest ship humankind ever built, but she’s old. The shielding technology isn’t all that advanced. Judging from the look of her hull, I’d wager those shields have already taken a substantial pounding. It wouldn’t take much to eliminate them altogether. A few rippers could do it… after that, one nightfall could destroy the ship completely.”

  No one sitting at the table had a rebuttal for that. Edmund looked at each of them, waiting—hoping someone would offer a less aggressive course of action. Gertsen lifted a finger into the air, his mouth started to open. Good for you, Bennoit, Edmund thought. The young man was a history addict; if anyone could suggest an alternative to destroying the most legendary ship in Earth’s history, he was the one.

  Gertsen lowered his hand back to the table. His mouth closed, and a resigned look spread across his face.

  Edmund had made it back to his stool. He sat and sighed heavily. “We’ll continue to work on the shields. In the
meantime, I want a hundred rippers loaded and ready to go. Aim them at Ambition’s chemical propulsion systems and main fold drive column. We’ll cripple their mobility, bring them down to our level.”

  Barret was nodding his approval. “We should be able to put some distance between us after that. Then we can launch the nightfalls.”

  “If it comes to that.” A communication whistle sounded. Edmund looked down at the table. Sickbay was calling. He tapped down on the notification. “Dr. Strong. What new tales is our patient telling you?”

  “Agle is sleeping. I’ve… discovered something, Alexander.”

  “Tell us what it is.”

  There was a long pause. “I’d rather show you in person.”

  “It’s a bad time for me to leave the bridge, Pen.” Edmund was beyond frustration at this point. There were too many emergencies for the limited crew to deal with. He glanced over at his father-in-law. “I’ll send you SIC Barret.”

  The SIC scowled at his commander. Don’t do this to me, his expression read.

  Edmund almost smiled. “Go see what the good doctor has discovered, SIC.”

  Barret straightened his tunic for the eighth time as he stepped out of the lift. He cleared his throat and started down the corridor towards sickbay. “Of course the bastard would have to send me,” he muttered along the way. “He couldn’t choose Weldheim. Had to be me.”

  He adjusted the tunic a final time as the medical center doors whisked open before him.

  “Over here,” Strong called out.

  The SIC moved through the small patient receiving area into the first section of recovery beds. Shain Agle was in one of them, sleeping comfortably. “Doctor?”

  “In here.”

  Barret turned and spotted her seated at a computer terminal within an open office. He went inside and stood behind her. The doctor’s long hair was resting loose over her shoulders and back. Why doesn’t she pull it up into a bun? Do I have to remind her of regulations?