The Tarantula Nebula

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The Tarantula Nebula Page 35

by David Kantrowitz


  “Good. Listen, I have an assignment for you. Come with me.”

  John turned and crossed to the stairs. Aldebaran shrugged and followed him.

  “It’s not busy work is it? If you’re just trying to engage me with something, I’d prefer not to.”

  “Don’t worry, Bartelby, it’s important. We’re arriving at Macer in twelve hours and this needs to get done before then.”

  John and Aldebaran descended the stairs, passing through a layer of smoke and into the galley. The rest of the crew save for Talvan and Richter was gathered around the table, engaged in a game of poker. Christie and Ray were facing that direction and waved hello.

  “Sit down,” said John. “We’re dealing you in.”

  Aldebaran raised an eyebrow. “You want me to play a game?”

  “That’s right. If Seth can’t entertain us with sims anymore, the least you could do is join us for poker. We haven’t had a game since we got here and all persons aboard are required to play.”

  “Come on,” said Nathalier. “Rylie and I need another novice at the table.”

  “We’ll switch back to five card draw so you can learn the rules,” said John.

  Aldebaran sat down. “I already know how to play. I am still Seth. What about credits?”

  John joined the others at the table and withdrew his own assortment of currency.

  “We divided Ari’s stuff between Fernwyn and Nathalier,” he said, “but I’m doing quite well. You can have half of mine.”

  “But I didn’t earn it.”

  “Consider it compensation for your actions on Umber yesterday. Fernwyn, it’s your deal.”

  Fernwyn accepted the deck from Ray and tried to shuffle it, obviously for the first time. By the third attempt she had mastered it. She dealt out two cards to each player and placed one face up in the middle of the table.

  “Texas Hold’Em?” asked John.

  “Are you sure you want to try that one again?” Ray asked, puffing on his pipe.

  “Positive. Unless you’re worried that I’ll take the pot.”

  “No, go for it.”

  The game progressed in silence for a few minutes. Fernwyn and Nathalier seemed to be following well.

  “Tell us more about this colony on Macer Alpha,” said John.

  “It’s like I mentioned earlier,” replied Aldebaran, moving his cards around. “It’s a self-contained, unregulated colony populated mostly with pirates, current and former. It’s centered around a large colonization ship called the Scripture, a vessel that was meant to land on Alpha and never again leave. The original inhabitants ended up getting into a dispute about exactly the way they should govern the colony, and they wiped themselves out. Pirates soon discovered the vessel and began using it as a hideout, and over the years it became a refuge for pirates and those wishing to wine, dine, and trade under the radar. The colony has grown around the Scripture, but it’s still the main center.”

  “So the SPF must know about this place,” said Christie.

  “Of course,” said Fernwyn, “but we can’t do anything about it. We don’t have the resources for an effective embargo, and a ground assault is out of the question. We could nuke the entire place, but we’d put the other colonies at risk. They’re peaceful and hardly deserve it.”

  “So you just tolerate it?”

  “Macer is pretty far away from Residere, at least from a solar law enforcement perspective. We’re more concerned about the pirates who use Residere Delta as a haven.”

  “You’re certain we’ll be welcome there?” John asked Aldebaran.

  “Stick with me, and you’ll be fine, but I don’t recommend her coming with us without some sort of disguise,” said Aldebaran, pointing at Fernwyn.

  Fernwyn cocked her head to one side. “Oh? Well, I guess so. I suppose somebody might recognize me from my careers.”

  “What about this crazy scientist?” asked John. “What else can you tell us about him?”

  “I already told you everything I know,” Aldebaran said.

  “Okay. Here’s the plan, then. Talvan, Ray, Richter and I will pose as Aldebaran’s crew and run down this lead. Fernwyn, we‘ll put you in some sort of costume and you‘ll come with us. Dana, Christie, and Nathalier, you guard the Faith while we’re gone.

  “You don’t want me along?” asked Christie.

  “I want a strong defensive presence on the ship. I also want to keep a low profile on the colony. You and Dana might draw more attention than we want. The same goes for you, Nathalier, but not for the same reason.”

  “Hey, I think I’m plenty attractive,” Nathalier replied. “There might be some lonely feline women down there, too.”

  “They’d have to be lonely and blind,” said Fernwyn, smirking.

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “Do you know where the Z'Sorth scientist hangs out?” asked John.

  Aldebaran nodded. “There’s a club at the center of the ship. It’s the cultural center of the colony, lots of drinking, dancing, and fighting. Above the dance floor is where this guy keeps his lab. I have no idea how he ended up there, but he is, after all, crazy.”

  “Are we going to have any trouble getting in there?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Good,” said John, checking his watch. “We’ve got twelve hours until we arrive. Let’s play for another hour and then call it a night. I want everyone rested up for the mission.

  Aldebaran made a bet, pushing several hard candies and tea bags toward the center of the table.

  “There’s only one problem,” he said.

  “What?”

  “We’re going to need plenty of money. Real money, I mean.”

  26.

  “What do you mean, nothing?”

  On the bridge of the Faith, the stunning panorama of the planet Macer filled the windows. The gas giant seemed to glow with milky azure light, all but obscuring the moon that the ship was rapidly approaching. John was piloting the ship while Dana, Christie, and Aldebaran manned the stations. Talvan sat by the rear door.

  John looked over at Dana’s station. Dana shrugged and returned the glance.

  “I mean nothing. There are no transmissions coming out of the colony.”

  Aldebaran stood up and crossed over to Dana. “That can’t be right.”

  Dana gestured at her console. “See for yourself.”

  “There are transmissions being sent to the colony, but nothing’s coming out.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Could it be that they’re encrypted?” asked Christie.

  “We’d still be receiving them,” replied Aldebaran. “They could be masked somehow, but that would require the cooperation of the entire colony. That’s highly unlikely, and I can’t think of a reason why they’d do it.”

  “I’m establishing a geosynchronous orbit,” said John, “let’s see if we can get a good look at the place.”

  Christie nodded. “Okay.”

  “When’s the last time you were here, Aldebaran?”

  “Eighteen months ago,” Aldebaran said, returning to his station.

  “And there was no sign of trouble?” asked Talvan.

  “It’s an anarchistic pirate hideout. Define trouble.”

  “What about spacecraft activity?” John asked, locking down the autopilot.

  “I’m only reading one ship,” said Dana.

  “It’s a Kau’Rii transport,” said Aldebaran. “It left the colony a few minutes ago.”

  John swiveled his chair around. “Can you open a frequency?”

  “Roger,” said Dana, doing so. “No reply yet.”

  “You know,” Christie began, “with the invisibility shield up the Kau’Rii ship won’t be able to identify the source of our transmission.”

  John raised an eyebrow. “Well, I don’t want to drop the shield.”

  “Then don’t be surprised if they ignore us.”

  “They’ve activated their FTL drive,” said Dana, “they’re gone.”

 
“I guess we’re on our own,” muttered John.

  “I’ve got the colony on the screen,” said Christie. “This is the best resolution I can get.”

  John and Aldebaran stood up and looked at Christie’s monitor. The colony’s main structure could be identified, but smaller buildings and connecting tunnels were difficult to make out. There was a visible distortion wave every few seconds.

  “The atmosphere shielding is still up,” said Aldebaran. “The structure looks intact. We can dock without permission at any free airlock.”

  John crossed his arms. “If there’s an atmosphere shield, what do they need airlocks for?”

  “The air is still dangerously cold. Beside, how else do you enter a space vessel?”

  “Right. Identify a dock that looks good to you and we’ll begin our descent. Richter, do you copy?”

  “Yo,” said Richter’s voice.

  “How’s it going down there?”

  “So far so good. Fernwyn’s going to wear my sunglasses and we’ve wrapped a scarf around her head. Long arms are ready for loadout, except for anything Talvan wants to bring.”

  John turned to Talvan. “Do you know how to operate a firearm?”

  “I haven’t held a weapon since the invasion,” replied Talvan, “but before that I was in the military.”

  “As a scientist,” interjected Aldebaran.

  “I was an officer first. Some things never leave you.”

  “Hopefully none of us will be relying on those skills this mission,” said John.

  “Don’t you ever get tired of being wrong?” asked Christie, smirking.

  “Dana, you’ve got the stick. Christie, keep your eyes on the commo. Let us know if you see anything the slightest bit troubling. Talvan, Aldebaran, let’s get loaded up.”

  John led the other men out of the bridge and down the hall to the zero-g room. Ray, Fernwyn, and Richter were assembled and ready to go. Nathalier leaned against the wall. John picked up his gear and accepted the M1A that Richter was offering him.

  “Talvan, this is a Glock 17,” said John, showing the older man such a thing. “It fires a nine-millimeter round from a seventeen round magazine. To bring it into action, you rack the slide like this. The magazine release is right here. Slap in a new magazine, make sure it’s seated, and tug on the rear of the slide to close it. You’ll have two spare mags for a total of fifty-one rounds.”

  John handed Talvan the weapon along with a duty belt, holster, and magazine pouch.

  “I’d feel a lot better if Talvan could stay behind,” said Ray, checking his shotgun.

  “He’s the only one who can identify the lab gear he needs,” replied John.

  Talvan put on the duty belt. “Trust me, I don’t want to go down there. This is for Umber, not me.”

  John looked over the team. “You sure you’re up for this, Richter?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Richter said.

  “You’re comfortable with that Phalanx?”

  “You bet your ass I am.”

  “How about you, Nathalier? Can you handle the weapons we’re leaving you with?”

  “Please,” said Nathalier, rolling his eyes.

  “Good, because I’m counting on you to protect Christie and Dana.”

  Dana’s voice came in over the speakers. “Thirty seconds to docking.”

  “Okay, folks,” began John. “From here on out, Aldebaran runs the show. Don’t say anything to anyone if you don’t have to; Aldebaran speaks for us. Don’t buy anything and don’t wander off.”

  “What if we can’t convince the Z'Sorth to let us use his equipment?” asked Fernwyn.

  “Failure is not an option.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” asked Ray.

  “I mean we’re going to gain access to that equipment no matter what. If the Z'Sorth resists, we’ll hold him at bay until we can load it aboard.”

  “You mean to steal it,” said Dana’s voice.

  John folded his arms. “If necessary. We’ve come too far to go away empty-handed. Anybody got a problem with that?”

  “I’m just concerned about blurring the line between heroes and pirates,” said Ray.

  “Consider it Stanislavski-style training.”

  There was a slight bump, and the airlock door light changed from red to green.

  “Good to go,” said Dana. “Good luck out there.”

  John motioned to Aldebaran, who hit the button to open the door. The door opened smoothly, and cold air flowed into the room. Mist quickly formed as the warmer air reacted with it. Aldebaran entered the airlock, followed by the rest of the team. Nathalier approached the door, and waved goodbye.

  “See you soon,” he said, and pressed the controls.

  The door closed. The airlock was dimly lit and barely large enough for the six of them. A sign had been hung on the hatch to the colony ship.

  “What’s the sign say?” asked John.

  “Welcome to Scripture Colony,” replied Aldebaran, opening a small plastic box that was mounted to the bulkhead.

  Aldebaran pressed a key inside the box. A tone sounded for a few seconds, and then terminated. He tried again, with the same result.

  “Nobody’s answering.”

  “Can you override it?” asked John.

  “I think so.”

  Carefully pulling off the sleek black cover, Aldebaran found several wires. He drew a folding knife and severed all of them. He touched one to another until the hatch began to move. Warmer air blew into the airlock from a long corridor.

  “That seemed too easy,” said Fernwyn.

  “This dock hadn’t been locked out,” replied Aldebaran. “If so, we’d be stuck.”

  “Why wouldn’t the dock be locked out?”

  “Whoever was in control of this section didn’t do it. Maybe they were expecting company.”

  The team moved into the corridor. It was well lit, and revealed what looked like a subway tunnel minus the tracks. Inoffensive trash lined the walls, but a clear path through the center had been maintained. Graffiti was everywhere. There was a soft humming, but no other noise. Aldebaran studied a directory, which hadn’t been defaced at all.

  “We’re on level five,” he said. “The club is on level one.”

  “Is this place usually so quiet?” asked John.

  “No. Somebody should be asking us for money.”

  Aldebaran moved down the corridor. The team followed him in single file. At the end of the passage they reached another, which traveled perpendicularly to it. Aldebaran peeked around the corners before continuing.

  “This is the main concourse for level five,” he began. “It encircles the entire ship. If memory serves, this level is mostly crew quarters, inboard from the concourse. The pirates use them for the same purpose. There should be lots of people hanging out in this area.”

  “Maybe they’re all in bed,” said Ray.

  “It’s unlikely that they’re all taking a rest at the same time. Come on, we should find an elevator bank before too long.”

  The group resumed moving down the concourse.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” said Fernwyn.

  “I wouldn’t worry too much. If the SPF is taking more of an interest in this place, they could have changed their habits. That would explain the lack of transmissions and our yet-unimpeded access.”

  “That’s pure speculation. We have no reason to think that the SPF decided to crack down on pirate enclaves. I certainly didn’t hear anything about it during my daily briefings.”

  “What do you want me to tell you, Rylie? Maybe they abandoned the place because it’s no longer fashionable. I don’t...”

  Aldebaran stopped. They had reached an elevator bank. The floor, walls, and ceilings were thoroughly splashed with blood.

  “Holy shit!” exclaimed John.

  Richter, Fernwyn, Ray, and John unlimbered their long arms rapidly. Aldebaran reached down and unsnapped the strap on his holster. Talvan gaped at the sight
in shock, the color draining out of his face.

  “Is this normal?” said Fernwyn, aiming down the concourse.

  Aldebaran’s expression did not change. “No.”

  The team spread out in a defensive pattern. Aldebaran examined one of the bulkheads.

  “Looks like somebody had a dispute over the elevator,” said Richter softly.

  “There are several types of blood here,” said Aldebaran calmly. “Rakhar, Kau’Rii, Residerian... I don’t see any Z'Sorth blood.”

  “How... how long?” gasped Talvan.

  “Looks like less than twenty-four hours, but I’m not a forensics expert. There are no projectile impacts that I can see.”

  “Is this how pirates solve their differences?” asked Ray.

  “Not generally, but there’s no book on how to be a pirate.”

  John keyed his radio. “Dana, this is John. We may have a complication. Be alert.”

  “Roger that,” Dana replied.

  “Ask her to scan for life signs,” said Fernwyn.

  John frowned. “The Faith doesn’t have that ability anymore.”

  “Let’s keep moving,” said Richter.

  Aldebaran hit the call button for the elevator. A few seconds later a car arrived and the doors opened. The interior of the car was large, obviously meant for cargo use. A single streak of blood marked the floor.

  “Somebody was dragged out,” said Richter, looking over his shoulder.

  The team boarded the elevator. Aldebaran selected level one, and the doors closed. The elevator did not move.

  “Is this the kind of elevator that works?” said Ray.

  Aldebaran hit the button again, and the car shuddered into motion.

  “I hope this isn’t history repeating itself,” he said. “The colonists wiped each other out over religious differences. Pirates don’t need that compelling of a reason. This place was different, though. We actually worked together and maintained a fairly stable society.”

  A ceiling panel collapsed and a body fell into the car. Each team member swore and leapt back.

  “Shit son of a bitch!” yelled Ray, who had been hit by the corpse.

  “It’s a Kau’Rii,” said Talvan.

  Fernwyn kneeled down and looked at the body. The Kau’Rii was fawn-colored before it was doused in it’s own blood.

 

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