The captain wasn’t in his office when they arrived. Drew assumed he was personally greeting Muck dockside. He and Letty sat in the chairs facing the captain’s desk. Nikko stood blocking the hatchway, all friendly escort pretenses abandoned. Soon the captain arrived, accompanied by a uniformed Bahdaneian. Drew noted the starburst pips on his shoulders indicated a mid-ranking Muck security officer. As soon as the men entered, Nikko ducked out. The captain introduced the Bahdaneian by his Earth pseudonym, William William, and then left the office as well.
Sitting in the captain’s chair, William’s whiskers rippled as he assumed his best imitation of a human smile. “Good morning, Miss Taleen. Please accept my personal condolences and that of the MCTT on your recent loss.” He addressed Letty in unaccented English accompanied by a soft hum that reminded Drew of Bertie. With a renewed pang of loss, Drew regretted the way things had ended between them.
“Thank you,” Letty said.
He turned to Drew. “And thank you, Chief Cutter, for agreeing to meet with me.”
The warmth with which they were being greeted, particularly the hum of amity, was unexpected. Drew was more than willing to play along. Encouraged to be addressed as “Chief,” Drew nodded and smiled.
William William began with an uncharacteristic obsequiousness for a Muck officer. “I hardly know where to start. It appears someone claiming to be an ETOC representative contacted us regarding the security issue that precipitated your suspension. Because of the serious nature of the accusation and our affiliation with the Earth Technology Oversight Commission, we failed to verify the report and were far too hasty in our response. Within the last twenty-four hours, we have been contacted by Taleen Industries legal advocates and Secretary Rostenkowski of the ETOC, advising us of our error. They provided related information of which the two of you may or may not be aware, but I’m not at liberty to discuss. We’re working closely with the ETOC to discover the perpetrator.”
William William squirmed in the chair, clearly ill at ease. “On behalf of the MCTT, I apologize for any embarrassment and inconvenience you have suffered as a result of our actions. We have notified your employer of the mix-up and offered them our apologies as well. Of course, your suspension is immediately and unconditionally rescinded. Chief Cutter, I hope you will accept my personal apology as well as that of the Multi-world Coalition for Travel and Trade.”
“Yes, of course,” Drew said. “But if it’s suspected someone on my staff—perhaps a disgruntled employee—is the perpetrator, you’ll coordinate your investigation with me, won’t you?”
“I don’t have the authority to agree to that, but I believe it’s a reasonable request, and I’ll see that it’s brought before the board.” William William stood. “Again, thank you both for your understanding.”
“Before you go,” Drew said, “I want to express how sorry I am about the loss of the Golden Tracer and its crew, particularly Albert Wellington. I considered Bertie a friend.”
“You’re very kind. It seems we have all suffered recent losses. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to my duties.”
Letty and Drew sat silent for several seconds, staring at the empty desk chair.
“Well,” Letty said, “that’s that . . . I guess. But I don’t understand. He mentioned Dad, but he never said anything about Hernandez. You think they’re missing the connection?”
“They see it alright. But they’re just now clued-in and struggling to grasp the bigger picture along with the rest of us.”
“So, Hernandez’ murder is going to be swept to the side. Doesn’t anyone care about that?” Her voice cracked in anger.
“I care about that. Hernandez has to take some of the blame for his own death, but he was killed on my watch. Don’t forget, whoever killed Hernandez was after you. We need to redouble our efforts to make sense of everything. We’re short too many steps to build a staircase.”
“From what Secretary Rostenkowski said, our research teams made headway. I’ll request updated reports when we get back to our quarters. Maybe they’ll explain the nitroglycerin.”
“One thing’s for sure,” Drew said, “while we focus on what’s in front of us, now that things are coming out in the open, the Alliance and the K.U. are dealing with a lot bigger issues.”
As if on cue, their conversation was interrupted when the captain returned to reclaim his office. “Please stay seated. There’s disturbing news. Muck has advised us that a Fahdeen water tanker heading for one of their survey bases was attacked and destroyed a couple hours ago. Earlier in the week, an agro-colony on the outer rim was also attacked. A Taleen security ship two hops out heard the distress call, but before they could reach them, the settlement was completely wiped out and one hundred twenty-five colonists lost. I doubt they could have saved them at any rate, since your security ships are unarmed.” The captain paused, raising his eyebrows questioningly at Letty.
She hesitated a moment before responding to his unasked question. “That’s not entirely true, Captain. Many of our security ships do have minimal defensive weaponry—approved weaponry, of course.”
He nodded as if he suspected as much. “Regardless, all Alliance planets have suffered attacks on ships and remote settlements in this quadrant. Unfortunately, some attacks appear retaliatory, and it’s difficult to distinguish who was the initial aggressor. It’s a mess, and Muck is trying to act as intermediary before things take a nastier turn—though they’re in the middle of the fray themselves.”
“No one’s IDed the attackers?” Drew asked.
“Not definitively. Three of the attacks were reportedly made by ships of Earth, Bahdane, and Bin design. A ship with Muck markings made an unsuccessful pass at a Bin moon colony. Each member is pointing fingers and crying foul.”
The captain’s forehead creased and his shoulders slumped. “I’ve received orders from Cane Cargo to return directly to Dark Landing to deliver you and your prisoners and to pick up the rest of our passengers, and then head straight back to Earth. Muck is providing an armed escort as far as the station. I assume your issue with them has been resolved?”
“Yes,” Drew said. “It was a minor mix-up. I’m impatient to get back to Dark Landing. Thanks for the use of your office.”
As soon as they returned to their quarters, Letty headed to her room with the processor while Drew contacted HQ to speak with Mattie. He got Curtis instead. He told Curtis he’d been cleared by Muck and was on his way back to the station.
“Yeah, Doc already told me.”
“Okay. So, what’s happening there?” Drew asked, a little surprised that Curtis knew about his reinstatement before he did.
“Well, I’m in charge. Mattie’s disappeared along with Fitz and his senior engineer. Doc keeps mumbling about hookers. You know . . . nothin’ much. What’s happening there?”
“What do you mean Mattie and Fitz disappeared?”
“Mattie just never showed up this morning and her com was disabled. I checked her quarters, but they look abandoned. Fitz is supposed to be on his way to Minerva Station on the Essovius. But when one of the scrubbers broke down again, his staff couldn’t find Justin Ruble, the guy who fixes it. When I tried to contact Fitz to see if he knew anything, I was told he’d transferred off the Essovius at her first stop. But no one seems to know where he went from there. Turns out he wasn’t expected at Minerva Station after all. I filled Doc in, and she contacted CoachStop who told her you were on your way back. We haven’t found Mattie or Ruble either.”
Drew had a sinking feeling at even the remote possibility that Fitz or Mattie, or worse, Fitz and Mattie, might be responsible for Hernandez’ death—and what else? But, even in the face of the evidence, he refused to believe it. It was inconceivable he’d misjudge Fitz’s, and possibly Mattie’s, characters so completely. He had to be wrong. There must be another explanation. And if so, were they in danger, or lying somewhere with their throats cut like Hernandez?
“Jesus!” he said.
“He’s
missing, too.” Curtis seemed completely unruffled by his predicament.
“Look, I’m still three days out. How are you holding up? Is the staff cooperating?”
“Yeah . . . more or less. Jones is taking the nightshift. Everybody’s doing their job. As long as there’s no explosions or murders, we should be able to hang in for another three days.”
“Curtis, thanks. I appreciate you stepping up. Thank Jonesy for me too. Tell him I’ll check back with him tonight. I’ll touch base with you again in the morning.”
“Aye-aye.”
Drew ended the transmission. He still needed to talk with Curtis about his extra-curricular activities, but in light of all that occurred since then, his transgressions seemed inconsequential.
Letty had entered the room for the last part of his conversation. She was wearing her CEO persona. “I just messaged my assistant to request updated reports from our research teams, and I asked him to initiate a K.U.-wide search for the name ‘Diak.’ Then I checked the news feeds. The headlines are all screaming about tech breaches and alien attacks. The Alliance Stock Exchange crashed an hour after opening today.”
Drew’s chest tightened as he sensed what was coming next.
“When we get back to Dark Landing, I’m taking Dad and continuing home on the Temperance.”
Drew stepped close and rested his hands on Letty’s shoulders. His fingers lightly kneaded the muscles at the back of her neck. The warmth emanating from her drove him crazy, but he suppressed the urge to pull her body against his. “Listen, I’ve always understood that you’d eventually return to Earth, but before—”
“Drew, please don’t.” She held his gaze. “I think I know what you’re going to say. But now . . . right now . . . there’s just too much turmoil in my life.”
Up to this time, Drew had never met a woman that he needed—or wanted—to have this talk with. He was unsure how to convey the intensity of his feelings in words. And he wasn’t ready to say he loved her. She clearly wasn’t ready to hear it. “There’s a lot going on for both of us, Letty. You don’t feel the same. I get that. But, I need you to know, under all my joking around—”
Their cabin was located in the center of the ship, but the laser blast rocked them as if they’d been leaning against an outer bulkhead. Both Drew and Letty fell to the deck. A deafening klaxon filled the room, assaulting their ears with almost the same impact as the blast itself. The klaxon’s blare was followed by an announcement from an obviously shaken crewman:
All hands to their stations. Passengers, please return to your quarters. Seal all hatches behind you. The captain will make an address shortly.
The message repeated three times.
Back on his feet, Drew helped Letty from the deck onto the lounger, then went to his room to retrieve his sidearm. Though useless in this situation, he felt better with its weight against his hip. She was gone when he came back, but reappeared after a few seconds with a frightened but determined expression, outfitted in her dungarees, poncho, and boots. She pulled her hat on and, without a word, they headed to the bridge.
Chapter 24: Encounter
The ship took two more hits before they reached the bridge, both times throwing everyone in the corridor to the deck, including Drew and Letty. The klaxon had finally silenced to allow intermittent announcements over the com. But the sound of running boots, shouted orders, and screams, which increased after each laser strike, drowned out all else. When they arrived, an armed crewman stood guard outside the bridge hatch, his eyes so wide Drew was afraid his eyeballs would fall out. “Stop there . . . you can’t enter the bridge!”
Drew approached him with assumed authority. When their faces were only inches apart, he yelled over the din, “Drew Cutter, Chief of Security.” He conveniently left out where he was chief of security.
The guard, though he appeared confused by Drew’s pronouncement, made only the slightest hesitation before stepping to one side, motioning them to pass. “Yes, sir.”
Drew suppressed the urge to give the guard a dressing down, reminding himself that the Temperance crew consisted of cargo handlers and service personnel, most lacking military or even security training—and evidently, common sense.
The bridge was a compact, circular space. He and Letty crowded in with the captain and two instrument technicians, who called out a steady stream of coordinates and damage reports in shaky voices. Only the captain looked as if he knew what he was doing and was equal to the challenge. Though, since the Temperance was an unarmed freighter, the only actions he could take was to follow the attack and swear.
Their presence went unnoticed. Hands clasped behind his back, spine flagpole straight, the captain’s posture suggested a military background. His attention remained riveted to a large screen that seemed to display a wide view into space. However, the images that alternated across it at three-second intervals were multiple-angle views from all sides of the ship. At the captain’s command, an individual image would pause momentarily and then the series recommence. The speckled paths of pulse lasers etched across several views, syncing with the rocking of the ship and accompanied by appropriate expletives from the captain.
A waist-high rail encircled the room, with a gap at the hatch opening. Drew and Letty each clung to the rail to stay upright, Letty with one hand on the bar and the other holding tight to Drew’s arm.
Drew caught brief glimpses of their attacker. It was a gunship, surprisingly small and extremely maneuverable. It darted in and out of several frames, never providing a clear view. With each pass, it drew closer to the Temperance, limiting the freighter’s ability to take evasive action. Not as quick as the attacker, their two Muck escorts moved steadily to intercept it. The Muck ships returned laser fire but, lacking its maneuverability, they’d only managed to chip away at the edges of the smaller ship’s shields. Muted rainbow waves undulated across the gunship each time a Muck laser made contact. As Drew and Letty watched, the two Muck ships gained their desired attitude, placing themselves between the Temperance and the gunship. A laser pulse from the lead Muck ship finally broke through the shields to its target. Apparent damage to its thruster controls sent the enemy spinning out of range.
The gunship was not Earth-engineered. After ten years on a space station, Drew was familiar with most alien and Earth ship designs. There was nothing remotely like it in the Known Universe, at least in his known universe. While the weapons seemed contemporary, its appearance was everything but. It looked like something out of a novel—futuristic, with a surface that intermittently rippled and changed shape. Drew couldn’t be certain though, since the ship never stayed in view long enough to study, and the rippling was subtle.
While noticeable, the damage to its port side must not have been severe. Their attacker regained control. Losing its enthusiasm for the fight, it shot off at sub-light speed. The Muck ships didn’t pursue, but maintained their positions alongside the Temperance. She continued plodding along on course toward the Schwarzschild Cluster and the nearest hop to Dark Landing.
The captain ordered one of the technicians to open a channel for an announcement and turned, seeing Drew and Letty for the first time. Spewing expletives that took Drew aback, but didn’t seem to faze Letty, he ordered them off his bridge and back to their quarters.
“ . . . and don’t fucking come out again until you’re back at your own fucking station you fucking idiot. And take that brat with you.”
“Er . . . sir, the open channel . . . ” the technician said timidly.
Drew and Letty exited into the outer passage and headed to their cabin with the captain’s diatribe still echoing over the ship’s com system. Two crew members and a passenger stood in the corridor as they passed, staring into the air above them with open mouths.
Letty turned to Drew as they hurried on their way. “What brat?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he meant you.”
She countered, “Or, maybe he was talking to me, and he meant you.”
They spent
the next hour in the cabin, helplessly pacing the small lounge, anticipating the return of their attacker at any moment. At one point, Drew interrupted his pacing long enough to send a request to the captain for copies of the skirmish vids. Who knew if the captain would share them, but it didn’t hurt to ask. He wanted to compare multiple static frames of the gunship to see if his impressions had been correct.
Continued announcements instructed passengers to remain in their cabins or at their hammocks.
“Screw this,” Drew said. “I’m going down to check on our detainees. I doubt anyone bothered to tell them what happened. I’m sure they’re terrified.”
As he moved toward the hatch, a subdued gong sounded, announcing a visitor. The wall monitor displayed Nikko’s broad chest. When Drew opened the hatch, Nikko reached one muscled arm behind him and dragged out a squirming Toby Greenstein. The boy rained ineffectual punches against Nikko’s thigh, all the while kicking him in the shins with the same lack of result. Effortlessly picking Toby up by his shirt collar, Nikko thrust him at Drew.
“Capteen zey you dake hem.”
“Ouch!” Grabbing Toby, Drew held him at arm’s length in an effort to escape his flailing limbs. With a sense of deja vu when that didn’t work, he shoved him roughly into the cabin, sending him sprawling on the deck at Letty’s feet. “You two introduce yourselves.” He stepped into the corridor and closed the hatch behind him.
“What the hell?”
“Boy stole on board. Capteen dold parents ve’d turn hem ofer on vey back, but don go back. Transvission to Prosse no goot now. Muck dinks zey been het. Capteen zey hem you proobloom.”
That was by far the longest speech Drew had heard Nikko make, and for the first time, he wasn’t smiling. Speechless with surprise, Drew’s lack of a response allowed Nikko to make a clean getaway.
Transmuted (Dark Landing Series Book 1) Page 17