The Blarmling Dilemma (Hearts in Orbit Book 1)

by S. C. Mitchell

  As he neared the top of the pole, he leveled his blaster at Rigel.

  “Game’s over, Antares!”

  Phoebe barely heard the marshal over the roar of the crowd, but she clearly saw his finger pull the trigger on his blaster.

  Chapter 15

  Rigel caught the juggling club, and held it just long enough to block the incoming plasma bolt. The force jolted his arm. As he struggled to stabilize his balance, he launched the club toward O’Callaghan.

  One by one he caught and threw the remaining three clubs toward the marshal, hoping to knock the blaster from his hands, but O’Callaghan ducked each club.

  Defenseless, Rigel had nowhere to hide when the man leveled his blaster a second time. He dove forward, grabbing the tight rope and swinging himself down and around the wire. The blast missed him, and struck one of the clowns below. The crowd roared in laughter once again, as the clown was blasted backward before crumpling to the ground unconscious. Markus and the other clowns were doing their best to keep the crowd thinking it all part of the show.

  Rigel swung back up onto the cable, but he was still too far away to close on O’Callaghan. The lawman had a bead on him, and Rigel feared the man was too good a shot to miss at this range. O’Callaghan wasn’t completely incompetent.

  Flipping back quickly, the beam shot over Rigel just inches above his chest. Catching the tight rope with his hands he pushed up, flipping back to his feet, but now he was even farther away. Rapidly tiring, his concentration slipping, Rigel gasped for breath. He knew he couldn’t continue to dodge blasts and keep his balance on the tight rope, but there was no way to escape, short of falling.

  The clicking and whistling registered as Blarmish in Rigel’s brain, as a silver streak swept toward him.

  Reach out. I’ve got you.

  He stretched his hands above his head and found Lart’s furry paws waiting. Yanked suddenly up and away, the next blast streaked just below, as he tucked his legs up underneath.

  Lart hung by his knees from a trapeze set to swing across the Tight Rope. It was a part of his act Rigel didn’t use until the second half of the show. One of the other aerialists would swing over and act as his catcher, to pull Rigel off the wire and swing him into a trapeze act, then return him to the wire to finish.

  Lart is your catcher now.

  Rigel didn’t doubt Lart could handle the task. Blarmlings were stronger than they looked, and incredible in the air. They grew up swinging from vines on their home world of Blarm with a natural grace and balance. During his time shipwrecked on their planet, Rigel had often joined the agile creatures in the trees to frolic and hunt food.

  Rotund stood on the stage in the back, announcing the show like nothing was wrong—like there wasn’t a maniacal marshal trying to kill one of his performers. The ringmaster lived by the showman’s rule: The Show Must Go On.

  Well, Rotund was getting an even better show than he’d planned. Certainly O’Callaghan’s unexpected appearance had given the performance a uniqueness that would be heralded across the nearby systems. Perhaps Rigel could even garner it into the additional funds he needed . . . if he survived.

  Lart dropped him on the platform of a pole far from the one O’Callaghan was on, then swung back across the tent top. Rigel took a quick bow to the crowd, which was on its feet, applauding and cheering loudly.

  Rigel snuck a peek at O’Callaghan, who seemed momentarily dumbfounded by the crowd’s response. The officer even grinned a bit and took a bow.

  The crowd’s cheering was cut short, when a warning claxon sounded, drowning them out. Electronic overrides took control of every sound system on the platform, including the circus’s public address speakers. A mechanical voice echoed through the tent.

  Warning! Platform gyros have reached critical imbalance. Orbit decaying. Mandatory evacuation is ordered. Thirty minutes to planetary impact.

  The message reverberated and repeated across the platform. The big top went deathly silent for three heartbeats, then chaos erupted as the crowds surged out of the bleachers and toward the big top exits.

  Everyone living on the platform knew they’d been living on borrowed time. Rigel suspected each had their own escape plan, just in case. But none could have expected anything like this now. The platform had been on track to remain in a stable orbit for years yet. What could have happened? A malfunction? An attack?

  Whatever it was, the timing couldn’t have been worse. A huge portion of the station’s population was right here, in the big top. Their ships and escape pods were in the starport, on the other side of the platform.

  O’Callaghan shook his head, then turned and aimed his blaster at Rigel once again. Rigel ducked behind the tent pole to avoid the blast.

  “Damn it, O’Callaghan,” he shouted back at the lawman. “This platform’s going down. You should be helping people.”

  O’Callaghan fired again. “You’re not getting away from me that easily, spacer.”

  The last word came out as a curse. The man had to be insane.

  Rigel gave up trying to talk any sense into him. Jumping on the ring lift, he pushed the button to send it down to the ground, keeping the pole between himself and O’Callaghan. He could only vaguely hear the man ranting over the frantic cries of the crowd below.

  As he descended the tent pole, Rigel scanned the chaos, looking for Phoebe. He had to find her and Lart, and get them back to the ship. He hoped he could lose O’Callaghan in the confusion.

  The spectators had been jamming the exits, or rushing wildly inside the tent looking for any way out. Relays clicked and the big top walls began to roll up. The circus went into evacuation mode. The confusion in the center of the tent eased, as people could now easily exit the tent from just about anywhere.

  This way!

  Lart’s urgent clicks and whistles drew Rigel’s attention toward one of the raising walls. The silver Blarmling stood out from the exiting crowd, even at his small size. Waving with one paw, he held Phoebe’s hand with his other.

  “Over here,” Phoebe called, waving him toward them. Her eyes locked onto his, concern creasing her brow.

  “We’ve got to get back to the ship,” Rigel said, rushing toward Phoebe and Lart, “but first we’ve got to lose O’Callaghan.”

  He’d lost sight of the galactic marshal in the confusion, but he didn’t doubt they were still being hunted. O’Callaghan seemed determined to bring someone in, probably to justify his actions, which had been anything but honorable. Rigel had known the man was vicious, but he hadn’t realized until now, how unhinged O’Callaghan had become.

  Too much time alone in space, Lart filled in. The mind-reading Blarmling touched a sore spot.

  “Like me?” Rigel had to wonder.

  Rigel not alone. Have Phoebe, and Oolo . . . and Lart!

  Rigel chuckled. “Yeah, and you guys have made my life sooo much better.”

  But they had. As chaotic as the past days had been, Rigel felt he was really living, doing something important, for the first time in his life. He had no idea where things were going, but he knew his heart beat harder whenever he was near Phoebe. That was not entirely a bad thing.

  He took Phoebe’s hand and pulled her toward the outside. The station’s population streamed across the field toward the city center and whatever escape plans they had in place. Circus folk were scampering about, packing up what they could.

  Phoebe pointed toward a copse of trees at the edge of the clearing. “My ship is over there with the marshal’s, but I don’t think it will fly.”

  He could probably ask the circus folk to take them along, but he hated the thought of leaving The Blarmlings’ Hope behind.

  And Oolo is still there, Lart reminded him.

  Some of the wagons had already launched, shooting straight up toward the circus mother ship
that hovered overhead. There were numerous reasons a circus may have to exit a planet fast, and Rotund was always prepared for a speedy pullout.

  Twenty minutes to planetary impact.

  It wouldn’t be an impact really. The platform would just be swallowed up by the sea of molten rock below. The temperature had already begun to rise as the life support systems on the platform failed.

  Rigel pulled Phoebe and Lart through the commotion toward the foliage on the edge of the field. He needed to think and in case O’Callaghan was still looking for them, he wanted to duck behind some cover.

  “Climb on. I’ll get you there faster.” Rigel looked to find Markus behind him, driving the clown car, and dragging the teleporter behind. The midget had a determined look on his face.

  “How do you know where I’m going?” The damn clown always could seem to read his mind.

  “You’re heading for the trees, because you have something to hide . . . just like me.”

  Rigel boosted Lart on top of the car, then jumped onto the depowered teleporter, holding his hand out toward Phoebe.

  “Here, get on.”

  She grabbed his hand and he pulled her into his arms. Her soft curves and heady floral fragrance distracted him momentarily. Sweet, kissable lips beckoned, and desire rose unbidden. No woman had ever caused such a deep, instant reaction from his usually logical mind. With her body pressed against him, and despite the danger they were in, Rigel’s cock jumped straight to attention.

  Down boy. No time for that.

  Markus hit the throttle and the clown car sped forward toward the cover of the trees, pushing her even closer into his hardening body. He knew he shouldn’t take the time, but couldn’t resist a quick kiss.

  Okay, at least there’s time for that.

  Soft lips caressed his. Urgently she clung to him. Rigel forced his lips from hers and turned his head to scan behind, looking for any sign of O’Callaghan. The lawman was nowhere in sight.

  “I don’t see him,” Phoebe confirmed.

  Had they actually escaped the madman? The car burst into the dense foliage at the edge of the clearing. Ferns and brush swatted at Rigel’s legs as it rumbled on. The air around felt heavier and more humid, as the temperature continued to climb rapidly and the moisture of the damp earth beneath evaporated.

  “Shouldn’t you be evacuating with this contraption?” Rigel shouted toward Markus. He had a feeling he knew what the clown was up to.

  “Oh, I’m evacuating alright, but not with this abomination.” Venom dripped from Markus’s tone. “I’ve been looking for an opportunity to dump this infernal contraption for months. There’ll never be a better opportunity. It’s going down with this platform, and there’s nothing Rotund can do about it. It’ll be months before he’ll be able to buy another one, and by then . . . maybe they’ll be safer.”

  Markus parked the rig behind the trees and hopped out.

  “Are you going to be okay,” Rigel asked. “You could come with us.” Rotund was not going to be happy with the clown.

  Markus forced a smile. “I’ll be fine. The circus is where I belong.”

  Then Markus bounced away, heading back toward where the circus was tearing down.

  Rigel’s eyes followed him for a bit, then locked onto Rotund’s wagon. Now that they were hidden in the trees, he could think again.

  “Lart, can you–”

  Phoebe laid a hand on Lart’s shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

  But Lart answered right away. I can drive the vehicle. I read little man’s thoughts. Watched him drive. I am a quick learner.

  Rigel unhooked the teleporter from the car, then turned to Phoebe.

  “Lart is going to drive you back to the ship. Get it ready for takeoff.”

  Concern darkened Phoebe’s green eyes. “Where are you going?”

  They still needed that warp core. They’d never have time to buy it here on the platform. They’d have to limp to another world in this system. And when they got there, they’d still need credits.

  “I’m going to get my pay.”

  He slid his hands to Phoebe’s slim waist, lifting her up. His body hardened as her pert breasts brushed across his chest and ended up just inches from his watering mouth as he placed her on the roof of the clown car. Her sweet floral fragrance invaded his senses, causing him to linger longer than he knew he should have.

  Lart was already seated behind the steering wheel, ready to drive away. This would speed them across the platform to the spaceport in just a few minutes.

  Fifteen minutes to planetary impact.

  She clutched his arm. “Rigel, there’s no time. Come with us.” Phoebe was probably right, but Rigel knew he had to take the chance. They needed those credits.

  “If I’m not there in ten minutes, you leave without me. Promise me! If I can’t get back in time, I’ll hitch a ride on the circus mothership and catch up with you later. You need to get back to Oolo and get the Blarmlings safely off this space platform.”

  Yes, remind her of her mission so she couldn’t refuse, and he’d make sure she kept herself safe in the process. He forced himself to release her and step back, fighting the urge to haul her back into his arms and never let go.

  Rigel took one last look at Phoebe, peering deep into her sultry eyes, trying to look more confident than he felt. She smiled and nodded. He wanted to lock this vision of her in his mind, just in case . . .

  Shaking his head, he thumped the back of the clown car, indicating Lart should drive on. “Fly like the wind, my friend. Keep her and Oolo safe.”

  You hurry. We not leave without you.

  Lart and his bravado. But Rigel knew they would leave if he didn’t show. Phoebe would save the Blarmlings.

  He turned as the car sped away. Forcing thoughts of Phoebe, Oolo and Lart from his mind, he sprinted toward Rotund’s wagon.

  Chapter 16

  Rotund’s chair was turned. The large man’s wide back faced the door of his wagon, as his pudgy hands manipulated the controls, readying the craft for its return to the circus mothership.

  “You shouldn’t have returned.” Rotund didn’t even look back at him, as Rigel slipped inside the large wagon.

  “I need my pay.” Rigel held up his right forearm. Extending it across the desk for the scan that would transfer credits from the circus fund to his personal account.

  Subdural chipping had replaced the clumsy and inaccurate retinal scans of the past decades. There were still some issues, but most related to someone losing their arm, something people tended to avoid if possible.

  Ten minutes to planetary impact.

  The audio warning reverberated across the platform.

  “You still have time. Scan and I’m out of here.” Rigel pressed his forearm closer.

  “I wish I could help you,” Rotund said, turning in his chair to face Rigel. “Really I do.” His eyes were cold.

  Rigel felt the barrel of the blaster press against his back. How the tubby officer had managed to sneak up on him, he didn’t have a clue, but Rigel hadn’t been expecting anyone else to be in Rotund’s wagon, so he hadn’t really looked.

  “Where’s the girl?” O’Callaghan’s voice sounded ragged, his breathing labored.

  Rigel raised his hands. “What girl?”

  O’Callaghan slammed the barrel of his blaster into Rigel’s kidney. Crippling pain shot up his spine, but Rigel refused to go down.

  “You know what girl. Where is Phoebe Callista? Let me have her and the Blarmlings, and I’ll let you go . . . for now.”

  Rigel turned, looking him straight in the eyes. “Go to hell, O’Callaghan.”

  Sweat was streaming down the man’s face. Madness colored his darkened eyes. He reeked of perspiration and poor hygiene. Still, he held the gun . . . and
all the cards.

  “Fine,” he growled, “I’ll take you in instead. Move it.” O’Callaghan motioned Rigel out of Rotund’s wagon.

  As he stepped onto the ground, Rigel heard the engines on Rotund’s wagon flare. The ringmaster was just going to leave him. It was no more than he expected. Rigel would be on his own.

  “Keep moving, straight ahead.” O’Callaghan kept his blaster in the small of Rigel’s back, prodding him along.

  “Last chance, Antares. Give me the girl, or I take you in.” They were back in the foliage surrounding the circus field. Most of the circus wagons had already jetted away.

  “You’ve got nothing on me.” Rigel realized he hadn’t. Despite the fact Rigel was protecting Phoebe, the marshal had no proof of it at all.

  “You’re right, I don’t.” O’Callaghan chuckled. “But if your ship lifts off this station, and you’re not on it, I’ll have all the proof I need, won’t I.”

  A cold knot coiled in Rigel’s stomach. The bug. O’Callaghan could track right to Phoebe and the Blarmlings. He needed to get away . . . warn her. She could find the bug. She knew all that technical stuff. But she didn’t know it was there, so she wouldn’t look for it.

  They broke out of the underbrush onto another section of green space. There in the field sat the O’Callaghan’s JX-95 alongside The Sheltered Princess.