The Last Load

by Bartholomew Thockmorton

  “Did I just feel a missile being launched?”

  “That’s right.” Louiston glanced at the control board’s chronometer. “Ninety seconds before the first explosion—it’ll be small. Five seconds later, the big one goes off. Allowing for the speed of the sled, we’ll be within seven hundred meters of the fireworks!” He gave Claire a toothy grin.

  “Okay smart guy, obviously we’ll die if we stay here! But if we move, they’ll monitor our engines…that take longer to bring on line than we have anyway. Am I to expect a miracle?” She didn’t want him to know it, but she was getting nervous.

  “As close as they come!” Louiston’s hands again returned to the controls. “All we have to do is shift the angularity of the tractor beam that connects us to that mountain back there. Then taking the ship’s port gyroscopes off line, we can swing around to the other side of our load. Just like magic!’

  With a nod of his head, Louiston directed her attention to the ship’s main view screen. To her surprise, the stars were streaming rapidly from left to right. After fifteen seconds, Louiston made some further adjustments and the stars slowed, then were again motionless.

  He turned his chair, again clasping his hands behind his head and stretched his legs. “I think I’m falling in love with McNally’s little toys! Can you believe that, Miss Murphy?”

  “Yes, I can,” said Claire, as she hesitantly broke eye contact with Louiston. “And please call me Claire.”

  “All right—Claire.”

  “You haven’t told me your first name, Mister Louiston.”

  “Close friends call me Doc; just about everybody else calls me Doctor.”

  “Why is that?” asked Claire, her eyes returning to meet his.

  “I guess it’s because people like the way I operate!” He winked.

  Claire blushed and wondered how many times young ladies had been blinded by his smile—a smile she believed would light the dark side of an asteroid. She suddenly realized that she had been involuntarily holding her breath. As her eyes locked with his, Claire was certain she perceived a mischievous gleam not there moments before.

  CHAPTER SIX: SECTOR PATROL HAS A BAD DAY

  McNally had been awake for a while, but had not bothered opening his eyes. Until moments ago, the room contained a guard watching for signs of consciousness. For the most part, McNally had been assessing the damage to his body. Nothing felt broken, and with the exception of his back, everything appeared whole. The wail of pain from the charred area between his shoulder blades filled his head with a gray haze. He at last looked about the room. Nothing unusual, just four bare walls, a door and the table to which he was securely bound.

  He didn’t spend much time examining the bindings that held his arm, legs and torso; McNally was not presently concerned with escape. What he needed was answers—he knew sooner or later Stevens would bring that information, even if he did not plan to. All McNally had to do was wait and rest while his back began to heal.

  ***

  Commander Stevens looked as the door to his office opened and Hinderken entered, snapped to attention and saluted.

  “Speak, Lieutenant!”

  “Security reports McNally is awake,” said the man as he continued to stare above Stevens’ head. “Of course, he is feigning unconsciousness. A remarkable feat, considering the pain in his back must be excruciating!”

  “He is indeed remarkable, this mystery man! Did you notice the scans taken when he was brought aboard? There were some areas the x-rays didn’t penetrate. His body is riddled and interconnected by apparent null zones that our computers cannot analyze.” Stevens fixed the junior officer with a cold stare.

  Hinderken now met his commander’s stare, hoping he wasn’t misreading what he saw there. But it was better to play along, see where this led. “We’re maintaining level-four security at the moment. Do you think that’s enough sir?”

  “Go to level-seven! There will be the devil to pay if McNally escapes! Cranston will castrate me if that happens…” Stevens looked up and met the young man’s gaze. “Be assured, before that happens to me, you’re fate shall be something far worse!”

  ***

  McNally lifted his head when the door opened; no need continuing the pretense of sleep. His captors would be cautious, but confident since they undoubtedly assumed the bindings were beyond the test of a wounded man’s strength. He was not surprised to see Hinderken—he had hoped to. A glance to the other’s collar insignia told him this was the commanding officer.

  “Hello, Stevens,” said McNally, insuring his voice communicated pain as well as weakness. “I trust I haven’t caused too much trouble.”

  Stevens had to laugh. He looked down at the wounded man and could not help but admire McNally’s composure. Here was an individual who single-handedly managed to mobilize Cranston’s entire security force for the sole purpose of stopping one man. Now he was secured in the interrogation room of a Sector Patrol’s battle cruiser; hardly a situation most would find something in which to joke about.

  “You have proven to be the proverbial fly in the ointment! What did you plan to accomplish? The Company is an archaic relic much too distant to render assistance to any agent it presumes to send this far into the Oort cloud. And you go after Cranston, of all people! You must be insane!”

  “I came because I need one last bit of intelligence,” said McNally, glaring at the older man. “The conversion center, Leviathan, Cranston’s secret operation—where is it?”

  Stevens remained calm as he turned to face the young officer. “Lieutenant, maybe our guest would rather hear about his ship?”

  “Sir! Sensors detected a class-three thermo-nuclear detonation twenty light-minutes to our rear. The known location of the Starduster. McNally has no ship, and we have McNally!”

  “Enough of this nonsense!” growled Stevens, drawing his sidearm. McNally saw it was a heat-laser capable of penetrating plate steel. “As I’ve mentioned to Hinderken here, your med-scans prove puzzling, so we did some research. Of course you know what we found!” Stevens aimed his weapon and fired.

  ***

  Claire sipped from a warm cup of herbal tea while telling herself for the tenth time that she wasn’t going to cry. Even though the tears she held back were ones of relief, she didn’t want to disappoint Doc. She knew he was counting on her to be able to control herself and assist when things got rough—as they just had been. She watched him working over the controls. Every so often he would grunt or murmur in surprise at how easily instructions could be programmed. Occasionally he would glance up and smile at her.

  “That was quite a close call! How often does a civilized, colony girl get to witness an atomic blast first hand?”

  “Eighteen thousand meters isn’t exactly close,” he replied. “Most of the distance was taken up by that mountain behind us. You saw the rear scanners; there wasn’t even as much as a glow around the edges—we were completely shielded. At worst, we may have lost a couple million tons through surface evaporation from the radiated heat. But the load’s still intact.”

  She stood and approached the side of Louiston’s chair. She hesitantly placed one hand on his shoulder. “Why is that important?”

  “Don’t know,” he said, looking up into her eyes. “But in nine hours we, and that load, must be some place far from here. We’re off to a good start, and the engines are just now approaching their designed normal power range. Inertials are holding at eighty-seven percent—we’ll be a top speed before the hour’s up.”

  “And McNally’s going to be there? It doesn’t seem possible!”

  Louiston rose to face her. “McNally is an unusual man, just as you’re an unusual woman. I wish we could have met long ago—“ Louiston started to say more, but hesitated while turning his eyes to the wall and across the ceiling before again looking at Claire. “I know it’s none of my business, but I’ve got to ask. Why would a beautiful, resourceful, not mention rich, lady like you work in that club as a…as a…”

 
Smiling, she lowered her head to hide her blush at his discomfort. It was only natural for him to wonder. “My job was my cover. I’ve been trying to convince various authorities regarding my stepfather’s illegal operations for years. I haven’t discovered what he’s up to, but it’s something big! There’s an entire underground operation out here whose sole purpose is to fuel the ambitions of Edward Cranston!” She paused to return her gaze to Louiston’s face. “No, I wasn’t an ‘entertainment specialist’.” I was the assistant manager…the owner is my uncle. He knew what I was doing—they all looked out for me. And no, I’m not rich—just modestly wealthy.”

  Louiston brushed her long hair from the side of her face, then caressed her cheek softly. “What I mean was why that club? There had to be others where the pay was better!”

  Claire’s mouth dropped in surprise, until he smiled in his special, mischievous manner. “Just kidding,” said Louiston, laughing as he ducked when Claire aimed a punch at his head. Their giggles soon dissolved into a gentle embrace and kiss. She could not understand why she was so quickly drawn to this man…but she was.

  ***

  Lieutenant Hinderken jerked as the beam stung his left shoulder. He stared at the shallow burn and heard Stevens’ laser whine a second time. A similar wound appeared on his right shoulder. He turned towards his superior officer, reaching for his own weapon.

  “Stop!” commanded Stevens. The laser hummed again and Hinderken’s left ear burned with white pain as his cheek tingled from the beam’s heat. “Move you hand away from the weapon or I’ll drop you where you stand!”

  “Better do it,” said McNally. His smile was tight and humorless.

  Stevens visibly relaxed as he centered his aim on Hinderken’s torso. “Cranston’s report disclosed that you had started working as a hauler in this sector little more than twelve months ago. After your capture, we scanned for hidden weapons. The results reminded me of the medical file of a young Lieutenant transferred aboard this ship at about the same time you showed up in this sector! The records had identified some metal implants in his head as audio aids. A procedure necessary since he was born with a hearing disorder. What rubbish! I looked at the records again and made the connection immediately! You two probably thought no one would be clever enough to catch on! Now what did you have planned for my ship?”

  McNally sadly shook his head as Hinderken burst out laughing. “The man’s a blooming genius, Randal! Too bad it won’t do him any good! We’re at level seven security—every guard moved off this deck and drawn back to critical locations to meet any attempt at escape! I believe this idiot wanted to be a hero—capture me himself and hog the glory!”

  “Only one problem, Stevens,” said McNally suddenly sitting up. The table’s bindings snapping casually, as it made of rotted material. “There’s nobody close enough to hear you scream!”

  When McNally began to rise from the table, Stevens sighted and fired. This one was meant to kill, the beam aimed for a spot centered between the Lieutenant’s eyes. One meters from target, the energy stopped, absorbed by McNally’s projected force barrier.

  “N-No!” cried Stevens. He stepped backwards, numbly realizing he had been tricked. He was McNally’s target all along. After a moment’s hesitation, he leapt towards the door. He hoped to get far enough to sound an alarm.

  He never made it. McNally moved so fast, the older man could not react soon enough to even fire in defense. Now his back was to the wall, McNally’s hand clutching his throat. The floor was six inches beneath his dangling feet.

  “Roy! How much time!”

  Hinderken, moving across the room, glanced at his fingernail timepiece before opening the door and checking the corridor. “I’ll give it thirty seconds.” He took from his shirt pocket a small communicator and keyed a five-digit code. “That’s it! Communications will be affected immediately! Tactical, Life Support and Engineering won’t last long. These folks will be too busy to give us much trouble!”

  “Hear that, Stevens? We’re shutting down your ship!” McNally shook the man, bouncing his head repeatedly against the wall. “Cranston’s going to lose one of his boot jacks! It’ll take days for your crew to locate and repair all the damage!”

  Stevens looked at Hinderken in disbelief. “But how did you plant explosives without being detected? Our security—“

  “Isn’t designed to catch someone working on the inside,” replied the young Lieutenant. “One of my duties was inspecting and maintaining all computer systems and their associated hardware. I’ve installed miniature, attack viruses in most of the computers throughout the ship. Took me months! They’re acting in unison to reprogram every electronic device on this vessel. Systems can be restored, but not before certain devices are found and removed! Even so, everything will have to be reprogrammed starting with the basic utility functions! I left a few other little surprises too!”

  “Not that it should matter to you,” said McNally, returning Stevens to floor level. “I can make this quick and painless, or very slow and very painful! First and last chance—what are the Leviathan’s coordinates?” He emphasized his request by grabbing a nerve cluster in Steven’s neck, applying relentless pressure. Going pale with pain and fear, Stevens suddenly voided his bladder.

  To avoid watching McNally work, Hinderken stepped into the hallway. He knew from experience that McNally disliked certain aspects of his job. But that did not stop him from being good at it. Muffled conversation and grunts drifted through the doorway. One final, distinct sound reached Saunders’ ears, then McNally was in the corridor.

  A few moment later, the lights went out. The darkness was as complete as the void without stars. The Hinderken donned a pair of infrared spectacles he drew from within his shirt. He knew McNally wouldn’t need optical aids. They stood in the darkness, listening for sounds of approach.

  “I know you didn’t enjoy that,” the young man’s voice was just above a whisper.

  “It was necessary. Of those onboard, Stevens alone knew the location. That also means he was the only one who could tell Cranston what we’re after. I doubt he had time to reveal your secret to anyone else. My escape, as well as what we’ve learned, will remain a complete mystery to Cranston!”

  “How…how did…you do it?”

  McNally understood the reluctance behind his question. “Macabre curiosity?” They quietly moved down the corridor. “His neck—like I promised—quick and painless!”

  They traveled through the darkness avoiding contact with crewmembers when possible. The crew’s expectation that the loss of lighting was temporary quickly passed. But crewman that attempted to open lockers or compartments where emergency gear was stowed found all lids and latches jammed. Aimless confusion would rein until someone organized a party with hand tools to break or pry open locking devices.

  At one corridor intersection, a security team all but blocked their passage. As Hinderken cautiously weaved between the confused and complaining men, one turned and blundered into McNally, who dispatched him with a silent blow. Minutes later, they entered one of numerous fighter hangars. Hinderken felt along the wall, energized the bay’s lights. A six-man attack craft occupied one side of the hanger.

  “This compartment is the last with power. One minute after we launch, it will be as dead as the rest of the ship!”

  McNally smiled. “Sorry about letting him nip at you! I wanted him smug and confident…much easier to question!”

  “So you say! I figure it was pay back for that plasma burn I gave you! But remember you’re the one who insists on such realism. Let’s find an aid kit—my ear’s killing me!”

  McNally chuckled while opening the craft’s hatch. “Let’s go get Claire and the Doctor before they begin to worry. Can you believe it? After fourteen months, all the manual labor is finally done. All that’s left is the paperwork—then we get to take out the garbage!”

  CHAPTER SEVEN: OLD MCNALLY’S FARM

  Launching had been quick and uneventful. McNally started the
engines while Hinderken evacuated the atmosphere and opened the launch doors. They knew it would be many hours before the Patrol realized the craft was missing.

  Once clear of the ship, they accelerated, setting a course ninety-degrees from the Valiant’s. “Just to start a false trail,” McNally explained. “Besides, when we open the warp-hole, it doesn’t matter which way we’re heading. The destination is still just as near!”

  The young officer asked repeated questions, wanting to know more about the new top-secret propulsion device—the series of additions and modifications he has made to this very same craft months earlier. His briefing had gone no further. Perhaps the new equipment was so classified there had not been time to decide who should be allowed to know of its existence? The young man chuckled.

  “Want to share the joke?”

  “Typical military mentality! I get yanked out of the best duty station I’ve pulled in three years, transferred from the Inner-system Navy to a local Sector Patrol, then I’m given something so top-secret, that even though I got to install it, even I don’t know what it is! Now you’re in the picture!”

  McNally adopted an exaggerated expression of pained shock. They had met on Hinderken’s first assignment after the academy. While investigating military sabotage at a Martian outpost, McNally requested the assistance of a handsome, young Naval officer. By the time the mission was complete, Hinderken barely avoided matrimony and as it was, had to visit a hospital with a bad case of birdshot in his posterior. McNally figured the man still blamed him.

  “You knew you were going deep-cover for a Company agent!”

  “Imagine my surprise when I learned it was going to be none other than Randal McNally! What’s the story? All you came for was the coordinates? Why a Patrol commander?”

  “Simple! Stevens was the only one this far out who knew them! Plenty of others, but I hate doing things around civilians—gives The Company a bad name and all that! We also had to deal with the possibility Cranston’s boys would figure out what we’re really after. Cranston believes I’m investigating the disappearance of contract haulers and their loads. He’s worried I’ll discover his ‘little’ secret, given time. But Cranston doesn’t know that’s what we were after all along! Now it’s too late! Ready to warp?”