“Evasive maneuvers. Lose them in the clouds!” I said. The mech dutifully and competently flew straight into a thunderhead. Lightning flickered like ghostly fingers around us. In a more advanced weather system or a natural planetary system, this would have been a deadly decision but it was worth the risk with the far simpler one on this asteroid. I saw nothing but dark cloud and ice through the view screen now. Momentarily it seemed we’d lost our attackers.
Another blast from them came and this time a missile flew past, just missing us. We dove to the right, coming up above and behind the enemy ship but they hit us with a powerful volley of laser fire from a small gun deck at the rear of their ship as E-TOC flew the ship sharply off to the left.
It didn’t hit us directly, but it did enough damage to make my heart sink. Smoke billowed up from the back of the ship. Alarms went off throughout the ship as it tumbled out of the sky. The laser fire had blown a hole in the back of the ship and the smoke nearly choked me as it filled the cockpit. E-TOC managed to steady the ship and stop it tumbling end over end.
“All mechanical assistant systems failing,” blurted the mech. Alarmingly, as it struggled to land it was suffering a hard drive failure and would soon fail.
“Catastrophic failure imminent! Catastrophic failure imminent!” came the voice, now registering lower and lower and speaking slower in mid-sentence. We landed, badly, but I was still alive and uninjured.
We ended up landing near the side of a huge meteor. After the smoke subsided I looked over and saw that the mech seemed out of commission. It beeped several times and then went silent. I reached over, my body hurting from the rough landing, and grabbed the mech’s mechanical arm. It came off in my hand. I was amazed at my strength. E-TOC, however, seemed broken. A tiny column of steam was rising up from some exposed coils in its chest. E-TOC was now non-functioning. Whatever little juice was left in it was used to saved my life, even if it merely followed my commands and no more. I really wished Will was with me right now. Now, what would I do?
I looked for emergency flares or an emergency beacon that I could program. There was one flare but no probes nor beacon mechs at all. Cursing and kicking the ship back door, I coughed at the acrid scent of burning metal and plasticene. I was lucky. That smell could have been burning flesh.
I decided to go and investigate the other crash the mech had detected upon our arrival. But I happened upon another awful surprise as I searched the ship for supplies. The box with the metal I’d made the exchange for was gone!
Outside, the place was desolate. With the exception of what looked like a tiny village in the distance east from me, it was mostly flat, gray land under a flat, grayish-blue artificial sky which was quickly fading into night. Scanning the area with a pair of binocs, I searched for the first crash. The binocs picked up a faint life sign signal about three miles east of my location so I began walking toward it. The wind picked up and the clouds moved like large, flying fists over the landscape, their shadows raging across the ground like a dark, sea but they seemed weak as if all bark and no bite or true power. A strange phenomenon.
I saw the distant glow of lights up ahead growing brighter as I drew closer. After some time I could make out the remains of the crash. Tired and aching but still wired from the crash, I scuttled over to investigate. It was a small civilian cruiser, about twice as large as a shuttle. I saw the outline of a body. Picking carefully through the wreckage I saw that it was charred mostly, still wearing a flight suit. Smoke, now dwindling down, ran off in long, wispy currents, dissipating in the air. I saw a hand of partially burned flesh and the smell of charred flesh stung my nose, along with the smells of burning metal, plastic, and rock. The poor man had died a horrible death. And then I wondered if this was meant to be Livilla and her crew? She was hiding from someone, that was for sure. And decided to use a go-between. Or was this the result of some other conflict? Who were those men and who was this guy? As I picked through the burning wreckage to my horror I found more than two more bodies. What in the blazes happened here? Who were these people and why were the killed? Who were the men who attacked me?
It dawned on me that perhaps these dead people were the ones that I was supposed to actually meet, the men of the Dunlap group, which meant that the other guys I did the deal with absconded with the gold! This whole thing was mixed up and confusing. And naturally, like a fool, I was right in the middle of it. To make matters worse, now I didn’t even have what I came for. The metal box was gone. I wondered if they managed to fake the ferroelectric metal bars they gave me too. My scanner said otherwise but hand scanners had their limitations, especially when it came to dealing with a profession counterfeit.
Sighing heavily, I looked up fearfully at the sky. The clouds raced continually and between the breaks, Venus loomed like a monstrous, beastie eye in the dark. I didn’t see or hear any indication that those thieving buzzards were coming back. That was the only comfort I had.
Frustrated and afraid, I decided to make a search for the box, leaving the burning wreck behind.
8
After about what seemed like an hour of walking eastward I discerned that someone was approaching me. It was a man, about my height, which meant average height, dressed in an old flight suit and holding a strange, archaic looking helmet at his side. He turned quickly to look about behind him, a curious display considering that I was a stranger to him, and then he faced me again and continued toward me. He then put his helmet on.
When he got within a few yards of me I raised my hand slowly to hail him. He didn’t respond at first but then I stepped forward and he moved back and made to go around me as if he were on some other business.
“Wait, please! I need help. I’ve crashed here and I need to get off this place!” The man stopped and took his helmet off.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Bob Astor. I’m lost.”
“Yeah, I can see that. How in the black suns did you get here in the first place?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world, and now, so do you,” he said. I wasn’t sure I liked that statement. But his tone seemed good-natured enough.
“I arrived here trying to help a friend acquire something and got stuck here.”
“Who are you working for?”
“I work for Vartan Inc.”
“Is that right? Been hearing more and more about that company.”
“Nothing too bad, I hope?” I said hopefully. He shrugged.
“One mega corporation is the same as another, really. So you were trying to get something out here?”
“Yeah. I was in the middle of a business deal.”
“By having your ship shot down? What in the black suns kind of business are you into, my friend?” I was getting a little irritated by the man’s insouciance at my plight. I also noticed that he wore a holster with a small lasgun planted inside. I thought it wouldn’t be so wise to get testy, even though that was exactly how I was feeling.
“Look, I swear, I’m not a smuggler or a thief. I was here to finish a deal and I got crossed and they tried to kill me.”
“For Vartan Inc.? Why would they need a small time guy like you out here doing deals for them?” I decided to answer very guardedly. This guy was getting too nosy.
“Some of the work I do for the company is highly irregular.”
“What sort of highly irregular?” he asked pointedly. He’d seemed friendly enough but I wasn’t going to answer any more questions without some kind of help, no matter what he thought.
“That’s private. I can’t talk about it.” He stared at me for some time before speaking again. I didn’t speak but decided to wait him out until he spoke first. He put his helmet back on in one deft movement with one hand and turned something on inside it.
“Are you a government agent?” he asked. I frowned.
“No.”
“Are you a pirate?”
“What is this abo-”
“Are y
ou a pirate?” This time the question was hard and he had his hand firmly on his gun now.
“No, I’m not!” Lord, I was angry now! And hungry. A bad combination. I was wondering what this was leading to.
“Do you own this rock or something?” The man finally took his hand down from his gun and took off his helmet again. He smiled congenially.
“As a matter of fact, I do own this rock. I’m sorry if I seem rude, Bob, but it’s necessary for me to question strangers who find themselves on our land.”
“Oh. This is your home, then?”
“It is. But for about two years we’ve been under assault from pirates and smugglers, by one gang in particular. They would like for us to disappear even though the land we live and build on is legitimately and legally ours.”
“So what were all the questions for?”
“My helmet has a built-in visual polygraph and aura detector in it. An invention of mine that I’m quite proud of. Couldn’t make any money from it but I find it extremely useful at times. Like right now. I can tell from certain physiological indices in your body that this helmet can measure that you are an honest man, Bob.”
“Well, thanks. I think. You can detect that without touching me?” The man nodded. “How?”
“That’s proprietary information. I can’t tell you.”
“I see.” I started to grin.
“By the way, your name sounds familiar to me but I don’t remember where I’ve heard it before,” he said. This surprised me.
“Perhaps another Bob Astor?”
“Not unless there is more than one Bob Astor working for Vartan Inc.” Well, one never knew. Vartan Inc. was huge. The company employed thousands of people.
He glanced over at the wreckage in the distance.
“That yours?”
“No. Mine is farther west.”
“You don’t look too dangerous. A lot of the strangers and outsiders that come here are smugglers, traffickers, thieves – all killers. They’ve recently become a deadly menace. They used to leave us alone but not so much now. In fact, it’s dangerous to be out in the open these days. You’d better come with me.”
“But I need to contact someone to get out of here.”
“You can do that back at the ranch. That’s our town back there. I don’t know how far out your friends are. Typically, when our satellite is giving problems we can only contact people on or near Venus. But the first order of business is to scavenge the downed ships and then get out of the open before the hooligans come back.”
“Come back?”
“Oh, they’ll be back. No doubt about that.”
“That lie-detector helmet, I could use one of those.” I was feeling relieved. I didn’t get any bad vibes from this guy.
“Well, unfortunately for you I only have a couple and for reasons that concern my life and the lives of my family and community, they ain’t for sale. Sorry. Just be thankful you weren’t lying to me. “Cause if you were, I would have had to shoot you,” he said matter-of-factually. “By the way, I didn’t give you my name. Forgive me. My name’s Gerard Crawford.”
. . .
Gerard led me to a small community of tent-like structures and domed buildings. The sky was clearing above from slate, angry gray to a clear black night. I felt slight tremors under my feet.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s a little project we have going. We’ve been at this for about a decade. We’re building a security system but lately we can’t get the materials we need on a consistent basis. Mining raw materials for just about anything out here if you don’t have access to a lot of money or influence with certain mining organizations is very difficult and cost prohibitive. Quite frequently we’ve had to stop production. We are building a weaponized satellite underground. Eventually, the plan is to launch it into orbit as a defense so that we can really defend ourselves. Maybe then the miscreants who want us out will leave us alone.”
“Who exactly is giving you trouble?”
“They never give their names but the one they seem to be working with I found out is called The Collector.” My heart jumped painfully. A very deadly character, indeed. I feared for these people. He turned toward me.
“You ever heard of him?” he asked. I nodded slowly. He grunted after watching my expression.
“I have a friend who angered him. Chased my friend right out of the business.”
“I thought you said you weren’t a smuggler?”
“I’m not. I had a friend who used to be one, though. He had some unpleasant run-ins with the guy. The Collector made it clear to him that he didn’t want him in the business, so he got out.”
“A good thing he got out.”
“How many people live here?”
“One thousand five hundred and ninety-three people. Soon to be one thousand five hundred and ninety-four with Fran’s baby, about due in a few days. We’re a Quaker community.”
“Really? I didn’t know Quakers were still around.”
“There’s a few of us still about.” He opened a door to one of the round domiciles but instead of walking through the domicile we headed into a bunker. There was a long, rock hand-hewn staircase that led deep underground and I followed him down.
There I saw people dressed in coveralls, overalls, and hazard suits, working on machinery, examining wood, or blasting and clearing out rock and materials, putting the rocks onto a large conveyor belt and this slid deep down in the middle of a tunnel. I saw a doorway to my left that said: “Mines This Way. Danger. Wear Hazard Suits Beyond This Point.”
The present room I was in stretched down so far that I couldn’t see anything but shadows at the perimeter but there were little lights, like floating fireflies bobbing up and down; they were the flashlights and headlights of people working in the area. A few stared at me but most paid us no mind.
We climbed into a small lift that traveled sideways. On the other side was a dingy little place that turned out to be Gerard’s office.
“Admirable set up you guys have out there. I wonder if I might be of some help to your community.” Gerard’s face lit up.
“You can? I thought you were lost and wanted to escape?”
“Well, yeah. I have to be able to leave here first or get someone to retrieve me. I need some help too.”
“Ah, yes, your deal gone wrong. I’ll try my best to see what I can do to get you in contact with your people.”
“Your name sounds familiar to me also but I can’t remember where.” Gerard smiled. “Crawford.” Crawford, Crawford. Where have I heard that name before?
“I know I’ve heard your name before,” Gerard said, scratching his chin. He had a full, steel gray beard with no mustache.
“Peter!” I cried. The man looked up at me. Come to think of it, now I knew why he seemed familiar. His eyes were bright and sharp but lined with the worries and cares of a thousand things. He was straight and muscular for a man his age, though his hair was all gray and his arms and hands were veiny. But he seemed to have the strength of a small bull.
“You know Peter?”
“A little bit. Yeah, Peter Crawford. Last time I saw him was a couple of years ago and he had an internship at the Banks Astronomy Observatory.” The man’s face registered recognition and delight.
“Ah yes! He told us about you! Peter is my grandson!”
“I had no idea! It’s good news to meet his folks.”
“We’re right proud of him too. He and a few youngsters managed to get off this little rock and make something of themselves.”
“To think of that. How is he doing?”
“He’s working now as an astronomer at Pauline Hopkins University. Works in the physics and astronomy department at their observatory. A rather small school. He could have been at Harvard or even the Orson Welles College Observatory I believe but for his outspokenness and penchant for being plainspoken. I’m afraid he’s a lot like his father was. And me.”
“That’s a good thing in my b
ook. His father’s here too?”
“My son, Wes? No. He was killed in a confrontation with one of the gangs trying to push us out.” His eyes darkened and there was a slight tremor in his voice.
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Yes.” He paused for a moment. “Times are tough and they’re getting tougher. I don’t know how things will end up when it’s all said and done. I hope to God we don’t lose any more people. I hear all kinds of strange things are happening out there. Peter has kept us informed of some interesting happenings. Aliens, for instance.” Good on Peter!
“It’s true.”
“What’s true?”
“Aliens. They are real and they are here. I’ve been waging my own battle against them. They are trying to get a foothold in this solar system.” The man’s face dropped and turned ashen but he kept his composure.
“You have weapons don’t you?”
“A couple of us have guns. I don’t see any wrong in it but as a community together we are committed to non-violence. Most of the members here won’t retaliate with violence or fight our enemies outright. I once felt the same way, when I was younger. I’m not entirely in agreement with the sentiment any longer but many feel that mounting a violent defense in the situation we’re in will only cause more violence from our enemies. It might make things far worse. I can’t say I wholly disagree with them.”
“But how will you fight against people who want this community gone? Against those who are willing to kill everyone here?”
“There has to be a way without us resorting to offensive violence. It’s why we find ways to focus on defense rather than offense. It’s our way, Bob. Or most of us, anyway. Surely you have principles you hold to no matter how difficult?” I did have such principles, and he had a good point there. But I still felt that people ought to defend themselves against violence. But if they wouldn’t or couldn’t, and who was I to gainsay them, then there had to be a way that I could help them out in accord with their principles.
“I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t. My grandson had hinted of such things happening. He’s observed weird happenings on the moon and even back on Earth in Pennsylvania visiting some of the Friends there.”
Mission: A Venus Affair Page 8