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Icarus (Interstellar Cargo Book 1)

Page 10

by Matt Verish


  The mechanic accepted the item and whistled, impressed. “These don’t come cheap.” He turned it over in his hands. “Some serious modifications made to it. Looks damaged. What happened to it?”

  Cole grinned. “I threw it at that ambassador’s face when he slipped the sidearm from my holster to murder me.” He slapped the weapon against his thigh.

  Rig sat in the co-pilot chair, and Cole scowled. “You people are crazy,” he said, tossing the Rook into the air like a tennis ball. “Kicked Terracom square in the nuts.” He caught the cube and shook it towards Cole. “You know, I’m glad I forced you to take me along.”

  Cole let go of the yoke and sat back. “She’s gonna need that.” He nodded toward the Rook.

  “Pretty sure her dad’s dead. Didn’t look so good when I helped her strap him in before takeoff.” He lightly tapped the cube on the console. “Doubt she’s in a rush to talk with a corpse.”

  “Do you know that for a fact?”

  Rig shrugged, uncaring.

  Should have left him on the planet. “Regardless, she’s going to need to repair that.”

  “You weren’t kiddin’ about this ship,” Rig said, ignoring Cole’s comment. “Never seen anything like her before. She’s a freighter but handles like a fighter.” He sniffed. “I guess when you got unicred like SolEx has, you can go a little overboard.” He tossed the Rook again. “You said she’s fully automa—”

  Cole snatched the cube just before it landed in Rig’s hand. He stood, staring at the viewport. The Terraport was still a short distance off, a dark, ugly silhouette blotting out a section of stars. “Cain. How long until we reach our jump point?”

  the AI answered.

  “You still good with flying solo?”

 

  “Good,” Cole said, turning to leave the bridge. “Keep Mr. Solomon occupied during my absence. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

 

  “Where you goin’?” Rig asked, clearly nervous about an untested AI program flying unattended.

  “To give this back to Lin,” he said, holding out the Rook, “and hopefully find Forester.” He left the mechanic behind and went in search of the engineer. He made it as far as the entrance to the recreation area before remembering that he had no idea where she was. He’d never taken the ten cent tour of the ICV-71 before it was hijacked.

  A 3D line diagram map of the ship’s interior appeared in the corner of his vision, and Cole knew CAIN had been paying close attention to his conversation with Rig. A flashing blue dot indicated his intended path to the medical ward at the aft of the ship. He was beginning to really like his AI friend.

  Thanks, Cain.

 

  Cole paused in mid-stride through the rec room. “He’s not?” The image of the director shaking his first angrily at the departing ICV-71 flashed in his mind. Leaving him behind to die would only compound his guilt.

  CAIN said.

  “What happened to him?” He continued walking, leaving the rec room and entering the living quarters where he and Forester had temporarily tied and locked up Emmerich. He kept walking, dreading the thought of dealing with her when the time came. Whenever that would be.

 
  “Which means our good director must’ve failed to stop the pilot,” Cole surmised.

 

  Cole sighed and continued to the medical ward, traveling down the connecting hallway for the first time. He had yet to fully explore the interior and discover what other secrets she might be harboring. A sinking feeling in his stomach made him believe this rescue mission would end long before he ever got the chance.

  The medical ward was separated into two rooms across from one another. They dead-ended against the other lift for easy access to an exit. Or escape, Cole thought, considering his situation. He stepped into the room to find Lin in the midst of a complicated process about which he knew nothing. She looked away from her work to see who had entered, then glanced at the Rook with a sigh of relief.

  “I hope you can fix this, Doc,” Cole said, approaching the table upon which Kingston was secured. The man lay still, the back of his head resting upon an unusual contraption which clamped to his temples. A myriad of wires snaked from the device and spilled onto the floor where they terminated into a metal briefcase with a small docking unit inside. Connected to the dock was an item not all that dissimilar to Lin’s Rook. Only this cube was transparent, with a dim orange glow at its center.

  Lin nodded, though she had already turned back to her science experiment. She was deep in the throes of her Ocunet orchestration. Her haptic gloved hands worked furiously at the air, flinging, swiping, and typing information into some unknown program. Cole watched her, entranced. He studied the Rook in his hands, then back at the one in the dock which was attached to Kingston’s head.

  Is she...?

  CAIN said, interrupting Cole’s thoughts.

  Cole set Lin’s Rook by her feet and rushed out of the medical ward. She would have to add her peculiar project to her long list of things to explain. He slowed to a halt at the bridge’s entrance, staring at the person sitting in his flight chair.

  Rig tilted his head and cracked his neck before facing Cole. “Hey, you seein’ this?”

  “Yes, I see that you’re in my chair, stowaway,” Cole said, aggravated. He approached the mechanic and gestured for him to retake the co-pilot chair. Surprisingly, he did so without complaint. “And yes, I was informed of our situation.” He sat down, his attention directed toward the viewport screen.

  CAIN said, his monotone voice coming through the console speakers.

  “Good. Talk that scout into flying up the Terraport’s ass.”

 

  “Just ignore that last comment, Cain,” Cole said, waving his hand dismissively. “Carry on.”

  “I’d ask what she said to tick you off so bad,” Rig said, a sly grin distorting his beard, “but seein’ as she ain’t able to....”

  “Do you not care that you’re probably the only one to survive your debt colony?” Cole asked, his ire piqued. “Those people you worked alongside for six years are dead.” He pointed his arm toward the back of the bridge. “All because of that bastard I helped rescue.”

  Rig followed Cole’s arm and stared. “You rescued me too.”

  Yeah, but who’s going to rescue me? He let his arm fall.

  CAIN said, adding to Cole’s mounting concern.

  No... That’s not possible. “I seem to recall a certain Dr. Dartmouth mentioning something about it taking them hours to reset.”

 

  Cole’s eyes narrowed. Was that sarcasm? It wasn’t so much the AI’s comment as it was the use of the word “variable” that caught his attention. “Just so. Book smarts will only get you so far, and Lin is a walking textbook.”

  “You should’ve nuked that place as well,” Rig said, his attention upon the closing gap between the ICV-71 and the Terraport. “My eyes are still connected to them.”

  “Which is why I regret having you aboard,” Cole said, grabbing the yoke despite CAIN’s control.

 

  “Oh, this is getting better all the time!” Cole pounded his fist on the armrest. “No way they escort us a second time. How long until we
jump?”

 

  “Maybe they’re just lookin’ to chat,” Rig said.

  CAIN said, causing Rig to shrink back in his chair.

  “Defensive maneuvers, Cain!” Cole barked, buckling himself in for a wild ride. “Alert the good doctor and her father to find a secure location.”

  CAIN said, announcing the battle to come over the loud speakers.

  the AI said, rejoining the bridge.

  “Yes,” Cole said, having forgotten the ship’s capability to alter its hull appearance. “Can the mimicry replicate solid black?”

 

  Cole rolled his eyes. “Are you trained in combat as well, Cain?” he asked in-jest.

 

  “Did you beat the high score after you completed it?”

 

  Cole sighed. “Training’s great and all, Cain, but nothing compares to the real thing. You can conquer the most complex flight simulators, but human unpredictability can get ugly here in the shit.” He tightened his grip on the yoke, and tapped his fingers on the throttle as though he was playing a piano. “Best you watch and learn, rookie.”

  CAIN explained, attempting to prove Cole wrong.

  “I hope Lin left some room for growth in that brain of yours,” Cole said to CAIN, finally locating the approaching fighters on the viewport screen. “Because you’re about to receive some much-needed experience points.”

  “This boat got any weapon of its own?” Rig asked, his attention focused on the console.

  “So I was told,” Cole said, recalling Forester explanation of the ship’s offensive capabilities. “I’m curious as to what sort of weapons. Care to elaborate, Cain?”

  CAIN explained.

  “No auto cannons?” Rig asked Cole. “What, did you forget to lock and load before you decided to take on Terrorcom?”

  Cole shook his head. “This isn’t my mission,” he reminded. “Anyway, the ICV-71 is a prototype vessel. It was on its maiden voyage to deliver cargo and wow a potential SolEx customer. Either the cannons are for show, or SolEx had yet to verify all legal aspects of mounting a full-frontal assault weapon. They are a delivery company, after all.”

  CAIN said.

  A lot of good me being right is going to do us against two war machines. He watched one of the Kobold-2s break from its current course and fly low. The maneuver was not suggestive of an escort. “I hope this ship’s EMP deflector can help us evade a short-range missile attack, Cain.”

  CAIN said just as an alert appeared on the viewport,
  “No time like the present to see if we can evade a nuke!” Cole shouted, preparing to bank a hard right and unleash the deflector. But the missiles collided with each other well before they reached the ICV-71. Cole pulled back hard on the yoke to avoid the debris from the blast. The shockwave rattled the whole of the ship. What just happened?

  CAIN said easily.

  “They’ll be forced to manually take us out,” Cole inferred as both Kobold-2s zipped past beneath the ship. “We’ll make it difficult for them with a rear assault.”

  CAIN explained.

  Cole had wondered as much. He swore. “I guess we’ll have to make our pesky toys count to buy us time to pull away.” He faced a nervous Rig. “Are you regretting hitching a ride with us ‘crazy’ people?”

  The mechanic shrugged. “Either way, I’ll be dead.”

  “That’s the spirit!”

  CAIN said, then added,

  “The scout?”

 

  “Ganging up on us, eh? Putting the terror in Terracom.” Cole had to laugh at the insanity of the situation. How had it all come to this? “We’re little more than target practice for these guys out here with nowhere to hide. Release as you see fit, Cain, but I want no casualties.”

 

  Cole considered making a mad dash for the Terraport to give the fighters pause, but he knew the ICV-71 would never make it in time. There was also no telling if more Kobold-2s would be deployed. Avoiding two fighters would be difficult enough.

  “Terracom wants to grind us into space dust, Nugget,” Rig said, interrupting Cole’s train of thought. “If you’re lookin’ for a consolation prize....”

  Cole’s glare silenced the mechanic. “This isn’t my fight. I didn’t ask to be a part of this.” He indicated all around him. “I’m just trying to set things right. We don’t need to add to the debt colony debacle.” A quick, bright flash appeared on the viewport screen.

 

  “What?” Cole grabbed the console. He zoomed in on the origin of the fizzled explosion and enhanced the image. There was no sign of the fighter or debris. “I told you—”

  CAIN explained, interrupting Cole. “I have yet to disperse any artillery. It would appear friendly fire is the likely cause of its destruction.>

  Cole zoomed in further and focused on the scout ship, which had already lining up behind the unsuspecting Kobold-2. In a last second desperate maneuver, the fighter made a hard barrel role to pull away from the fray. The scout’s auto cannon appeared to have grazed the Kobold-2’s hull, but it remained intact. The fighter continued away from its initial course, heading back toward the Terraport.

  Cole’s gloved hands clenched, the leather creaking. “Cain. Who’s aboard that scout ship?”

  CAIN said.

  “Who is this?” Cole demanded, annoyed at the timidity in his voice.

  “Open the payload bay door, Musgrave. I need to dock with the ICV-71.”

  Cole’s jaw fell. “Arthur! You mysterious sonofabitch! What are you doing out there?”

  “Contemplating destroying one of your engines, at the moment,” the director said dryly. “The door, Musgrave?”

  “Of course!” He was about to give CAIN the order when a thought occurred to him. “Um, are you going to fit?”

  “We’re about to find out,” he said with uncertainty. “I’m in position beneath you.”

  Cole looked up toward the viewport. As usual, the AI anticipated his thoughts.

  “You hear that, Arthur?” Cole asked.

  “I have no choice.”

  “He’ll kill us all,” Rig said, revealing his opinion on the matter. “Can’t risk it.”

  “Who else is there with you?” Forester asked.
r />   “Mr. Richter Solomon the mechanic. He’s a former debtor and fellow Terracom hater.” He smiled. “You’ll like him.”

  CAIN said.

  “You have my blessing.” Cole leaned close to the console. “Arthur. I assume you heard that as well?”

  There was a pause. “I did. Is such a decision wise considering prior circumstances?”

  “Bah! A lot’s changed since you went AWOL.”

  “That was less than an hour ago, and I specifically explained my—”

  CAIN announced.

  “It seems I have no choice in the matter,” Forester muttered.

  Several moments of tense silence passed as complete faith was placed in the untested AI. What began as a dull hum, grew to a buzzing crescendo as the scout’s thrusters neared the insides of the ICV-71. A terrifying thud indicated the docking arm connecting with its intended target, and the entire ship shuddered. The force of the tremor was so great, that Cole closed his eyes and braced himself for the end.

  And the end did come, but it was not what he expected.

 

  The shuddering eased until all that remained was the gentle whirring of the twin engines. Cole dragged both gloved hands across his face and exhaled an exceptionally loud sigh of relief. He expected to find a new streak of gray when he next looked in the mirror. He turned to the mechanic, who was equally relieved.

  “Good thing that bay was empty, eh?”

  Cole couldn’t agree more. “It’s a good thing we have Cain on our side. Otherwise we’d be dead.” A brief image of the ICV-71 shredding like cheap tinfoil and his frozen body forever floating through space flashed in his mind. He gripped his arm rests to conceal his slight trembling.

 

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