No Safe Harbor: The Silver Liner

by Daniel Sullivan

  Kang sat upright, with some effort and began doing the exercises that Fiona had prescribed. Weighing ninety-two-kilograms before Venus, Kang now weighed no more than seventy-kilograms. They’re gonna tear me up when I finally start sparring again, he thought. He wondered now how the captain had fared; Royce had already been shot and had suffered serious shoulder and leg injuries earlier last year. Now, he had suffered a data-port-damaging head injury, along with cracked ribs and a concussion, after being ambushed by two Zduhać.

  Seeing Hayashi when he awoke was a nice surprise, though he did not have an opportunity to catch up with her about the rest of the Fujin crew. Mun only hoped that they were doing better than he was. He tried standing unassisted, but quickly sat back down. He was not quite ready for that, though if Lena and Heather were to walk with him, he thought he could do it. Now that would be nice, he thought with a smile.

  The gunner put aside the thought of cute girls helping him get around, focusing instead on actually getting around. He had gotten good at getting into the wheelchair and transporting himself to the bathroom and he could feel his arm strength improving.

  Once he had completed Fiona’s exercises, Kang began practicing the hand portions of the taekwondo forms he had learned in years past. He found that just doing that, tired him quickly, but he was impatient; Kang had never led a sedentary lifestyle and hated sitting around. That was one of the reasons he had found Kendrick’s bridge assignments so frustrating back when Tanaka was aboard. The memory of the shock on Tanaka’s face when he realized that Kendrick had figured it out made him smile. Bastard, he thought.

  His door chimed, prompting him to call, “Enter.”

  He figured it might be Lena, who was now serving as the doctor, but instead, it was the captain.

  “Mister Mun,” Kendrick said as he entered. “Glad to see you up and about; or as near as you can get, at least.” The captain now sported a half-circle shaped scar around his right eye, and walked stiffly.

  “Yeah, me too, Captain! I heard you were jumped by two Zduhać; what happened?”

  “Pretty much that,” Kendrick replied. “I got jumped from behind and they stomp kicked my back and my head. Cracked ribs in my back, a skull fracture, damaged orbital and my dataport don’t work no more. Still a bit wobbly on my feet.”

  Mun winced, knowing the kind of power a Zduhać could pack. “Say, how’s Lena?”

  “She’s well,” Kendrick said. “She installed herself into one of those Escort-7 units, then she and Fiona saved our bacon.”

  “Ouch! Carried out by a couple of girls, hope they don’t take our man-cards!”

  Kendrick shook his head, laughing. “I haven’t heard anyone talk about man-cards in … well, ever. Heck, Keyes can kick both of our asses right now. She’d give me a run even if I was at my best.”

  “Seriously?” Mun looked shocked at Kendrick’s admission.

  “Seriously. Haven’t seen her actually fight unarmed, but I saw her get the better of a general and two soldiers, and then five or six more soldiers, and then get into a firefight like it was no more effort than flipping burgers.”

  “What about this Cyrus guy?”

  “Hell, he and the priest could kick all of our asses if they got serious,” Kendrick said with a laugh. “Cyrus is like a wall of muscle and Ronan’s just Ronan. Professional agents, mercs and hitmen, Kang. You an’ me? We’re just a singer an’ a mall cop turned space jockeys.”

  “Yeah, but you fight like … man, like I’ve never seen.”

  “I do hold my own,” Kendrick boasted. “But I ain’t no agent or merc. Now, when it comes to flying? There ain’t no one like me; and that’s official! Heard it straight from an Alliance general!”

  “Even Fujita couldn’t keep up with you,” Kang praised. “But now that we’re in the air, where are we going?”

  “Don’t know,” the captain lamented. “I had a gig lined up that woulda paid a quarter mil, but it never happened. Can’t float in space forever. With my dataport broke, I need to see a specialist and they’re all on Earth, so that’s where we’re fixin’ to go.”

  “Earth?” Mun was not sure he had heard correctly.

  “Yup. God knows what’ll happen, or what we’re gonna do after that; assuming the authorities don’t decide for us, that is. Fixin’ to have a meeting in a bit; I’m a fugitive, so I gotta give everyone a chance to take their share and opt out.”

  Mun was quiet for a moment, but finally had to ask the question. “Fiona … is she gonna make it?”

  Kendrick nodded. “She’s awake now. She’s weak, but she’s still in the fight.”

  “Glad to hear that!” the gunner exhaled, relieved by the news. “If you need anything …”

  “Recover, Mister Mun,” Kendrick said with a smile. “Just recover and get back on the bridge. It ain’t the same without you.”

  “You got it, Captain!”

  “I’ll hold you to it, Kang.” Kendrick stood up, steadying himself for a moment. “Anyway, I gotta get back to it. You just get yourself back up and runnin’; got a feeling we’re gonna need you.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Fiona had been moved from the stasis pod to a in the bed in the Med Bay. Though far more comfortable than the pod, the bed was a far cry from the bed in her cabin. Lena had been an absolute marvel and Fiona was amazed at how attentive and caring the gynoid had become in the wake of the doctor’s near death. Kang rested in his cabin, so she had no company, unless Lena or one of the crew visited and with the ship in flight — at least she assumed it was in flight — from Alliance and United States forces, she might not get a visit for a while. Ironically, the Med Bay doors opened and Kendrick walked in, Lena right behind him. Fiona tried to sit up, but Kendrick hurried to her side.

  “Don’t strain yourself, Fi! You’re still weak.” Without saying more, he leaned in and kissed her lips. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “You … did,” she whispered. “Was dead … soul … left my body. Saw it all … saw them wheel you … into the docking tube … me … carried to Med Bay. I was about to … cross over … and I wanted to. The peace … it was unimaginable. I … met Him. Told me my time … not done … guided me back.”

  “Whoever ‘he’ is, remind me to thank him,” Kendrick said with a chuckle.

  “Our Lord,” she insisted. “Jesus Christ.”

  Kendrick was silent and Fiona could not tell if he were skeptical or merely surprised. He squeezed her hand gently, then smiled.

  “If it really was Him, then I’ll thank Him tonight in prayer.”

  She gripped his hand as hard as she could, pulling herself up. “It was Him!” Her exclamation was barely louder than a whisper, but it got his attention.

  “I believe you, Fi,” he assured her with alacrity. “I just … I don’t know. I’ve never had that kind of encounter and I’m never really sure what to say.”

  “Learned so much,” she said, her voice still weak. “Born again. Joyce Keane … truly dead.” She could not help smiling, even though speaking was more difficult than she had initially thought it would be and could feel the glow of her own energy as she spoke. She could see in his eyes that he saw it too, though his expression showed that he lacked understanding. “Only Fiona now … reborn to new life. I love you, Ken, like never before. Sent me back … back for you.”

  All he did was smile and enfold her in his arms. Fiona knew that he was overwhelmed by what she said, but it did not matter. The former terrorist knew her purpose now. She was a new creation and her new life had only just begun. She kissed his cheek, only for him to kiss her lips passionately. She mustered her strength to return his kisses. Finally, their lips parted, her fiancé smiling at her, holding her gaze. Fiona felt as though she might lose herself in his eyes.

  “God, I love you,” he said, his voice filled with emotion, his eyes misting over with tears of joy. “You are a miracle, Fi. A living miracle.”

  Fiona nodded, smiling and crying in spite of herself.

&nbs
p; “I’m going to have a meeting tonight,” he said abruptly. “We’re still in orbit around Mars, though the U.P.A. thinks we’re long gone. I’m going to give everyone a chance to get off this train while they still can.”

  “I … want to be …” She paused for a long moment, struggling to speak, wondering if the words would ever come. “… there … at your side.”

  “Fi …” he caressed her face as he spoke, but she cut him off.

  “Take me … wheelchair …” The effort to continue the conversation was physically taxing her. Reduced to broken English … I must need further humbling. Finally, she managed to add, “I have the strength.”

  Lena shook her head. Kendrick looked back at Fiona and shrugged. “Sorry, Fi; doctor’s orders. You’re gonna have to get used to being the patient.”

  Fiona nodded. “Where are we going?” Mercifully, the question came out in a single coherent sentence.

  “Earth.”

  The Ramos floated in space, her engines dead, broadcasting a distress signal. The Liberty was within sensor range, but not visual range. All hails had been met with radio silence. According to the sensor data, the Ramos still had life support and power, and her reactor was still in working order; only her engines were nonfunctional.

  “All right, take us in,” Captain Gifford’s ordered hesitantly, feeling like something was not right.

  Ms. Carlisle opened her mouth to reply, but it was Jax who shouted, “Captain, wait!”

  “Belay that, Ms. Carlisle,” Gifford’s said, countermanding her prior order. “Commander, what’s on your mind?”

  “I think it’s a trap, that’s what,” Jax declared.

  “Gut feeling?” Gifford’s turned to face her XO.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

  “Good; ‘cause I’ve got the same feeling,” she said. “So, what’s your take, Commander?”

  “Those codes that Tracht gave us earlier; can we get the same thing to work on a civilian craft?”

  “I like your thinking, Commander,” Gifford’s complimented. “Ms. Henderson, there’s a backdoor on that ship; find it!”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Henderson replied. In moments, Henderson cracked the Ramos’ cyber-security and gained access. “I’m in, ma’am. Orders?”

  “Download the ship’s log. I want to read it.”

  “Downloaded,” Henderson replied. “I can send it to you in text format, or I can play audio.”

  Gifford’s opted for audio. “Play it.”

  Captain Beaumont’s words of warning soon filled the bridge.

  “S.O.S., I repeat, S.O.S.! This is Captain Fritz Beaumont of the Ness Frigate Ramos! We’re under attack! It’s Captain Lorgen! He’s insane! We thought we were rescuing him, but he came aboard prepared to take the ship! He’s got a squad of soldiers with him and they’re killing everyone! I think he destroyed the Venus facility! Send help! He’s …” A gunshot sounded, followed by a beep, then the Ramos’ computer confirmation that the message had been sent. Apparently, Beaumont had managed to hit send before dying.

  The S.O.S. was followed by a chilling recording of a different voice, claiming to be Captain Beaumont, responding to the U.S.S. Phantasm, requesting a rescue. The Phantasm’s captain responded, saying he was on his way. The logs revealed that Lorgen had used the same backdoor trick on the Phantasm that they had just used on the Ramos and had made all of the Phantasm’s airlocks and air tight doors open, killing the crew. They were all silent for a long moment, struck by the loss of life.

  Gifford’s clenched her fists in anger. “Lorgen has the Phantasm.”

  Jax nodded. “We also know what was on Venus; a NessCorp research installation of some kind; but, why would Royce go there?”

  “I don’t know, Mister Jax,” Carol confessed. “Whatever it was, Lorgen destroyed it.”

  “And Royce is bound for Mars, with Lorgen in pursuit.”

  Gifford’s nodded. “Mr. Munroe, plot a course for Mars. Ms. Carlisle, get us out of here, fast as she’ll go; the Phantasm is here, somewhere, but she can’t match our speed.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said the helmsman and the astrogator in unison.

  “Commander Jax, please bring Colonel Tracht to the conference room. I need to speak with him urgently.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jax replied, saluting the captain, then executing her orders.

  General Martins recovered from Keyes’ dart, unable to decide if he should be furious or impressed; she had defeated them so thoroughly, he felt like a raw recruit failing a training exercise. The toxin took him out for almost two days and with no destination, they could not simply take off and give chase. Until they could locate the Selene, they were either parked on Mars or returning to Earth. Either way Royce had eluded them.

  The interior of the small hospital was intact, but the outside was a disaster. The firefight had killed most of the Zduhać and those who survived, were now being treated in the hospital and under heavy guard. Royce’s crew was high end, something neither he nor Borislav had anticipated, and with the addition of Keyes, Royce had gained a huge asset.

  “Sit-rep, now,” the general barked.

  A lieutenant entered, saluting. “Sir! The Selene took off and the Chiropteran bounty-hunter’s ship took off a short time later, presumably in pursuit. Unfortunately, it has the same kind of stealth capability as the Enigma, so we can’t track him either. We’re still trying to piece together what happened at the spaceport, but it appears that our own men were lured into an ambush by Borislav, and killed by the Zduhać. The mayor of Phoenix wants us gone within forty Earth hours, or face retaliation.”

  “Great,” Martins spat. “Goddamn independent assholes! Placate him while we try to extrapolate Royce’s course.”

  “Yes, sir,” the lieutenant replied, saluting him.

  Martins tried to find an upside to this, but there was none. He was fortunate to be a general, but the politicians would see him severely reprimanded for this unless results were produced. He could not believe his rotten luck: Royce was notoriously independent and particularly disliked the Alliance. Somehow, the one person who could do the job was Royce. Without the leverage of the doctor or the gynoid, the rock and roll captain was unlikely to ever agree to the terms. Martins kicked himself for accepting Ness’s terms; the C.E.O.’s demand to burn Keyes proved to be their undoing.

  With the operation a bust, Martins activated his communicator and called the ship he had arrived on; the Alliance interceptor Icarus. It was a new ship and it was fast. Not as fast as the Selene, but capable of Mach 25, making it one of the few ships that even had a chance of keeping up with the silver liner.

  “Briggs, prep the engines for takeoff! Royce got away! I need you to find me a target, or we’re heading home.”

  “We’ll be ready,” Captain Briggs replied. “Soon as you’re aboard, we’ll take off.”

  “I need a target, or this mission is bust,” Martins warned. “Locate that ship! See you in an hour. Martins out.” As he hung up, he shook his head. “What a disaster!”

  “How? How the fuck did they figure it out?” Lorgen was practically pounding the arms of his chair and stamping his feet. “The trap was perfect!”

  “They must be wise to the trick,” Mr. Levin offered. “They stayed well out of range where we could use the backdoor against them.”

  Lorgen shook his head, then pulled himself together. “Pursue them, full speed. Keep them on our sensors; we can’t catch them, but we can track them.”

  “Once we’re in range, did you want to try to use the backdoor on them?” Levin asked.

  “No; I want to destroy them.”

  “I like that idea, sir,” Mr. Stiles said approvingly.

  “Thought you might,” Lorgen replied. “We’ll lay the trap and then we’ll have them!”

  Levin shook his head. “I don’t need to remind you, Captain, that Gifford’s is highly decorated for a reason. She may not be so easily trapped.”

  Lorgen flashed an angry glare at his
new first officer. “So, what is it, Mister Levin? You think that bimbo can outsmart me?”

  “That’s just it, sir,” Levin countered. “She’s not a bimbo.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “If I may,” Levin said, taking some of Lorgen’s edge off. “You want to win and believe me, I want you to win.”

  “Agreed,” Lorgen said, wary of where it was going. “Speak your piece.”

  “You know, a lot of the reason Royce outmaneuvered you is precisely because you didn’t respect him as an enemy. If you had, with your background, you could have easily zipped this up last year. Instead, you assumed that because he was a civilian, that he would be a pushover.”

  Lorgen glared back at Levin, anger seething inside of him.

  “It was a reasonable assumption and you had no way of knowing he had a combat android either,” Levin continued, mollifying Lorgen. “But you’re making the same mistake with Gifford’s now, except that she’s military; and unlike the troopers in the crew quarters, she really is a marine and so is her first officer. I know Commander Jax, Captain. The two of them fought in the Colonial Conflict on the ground. They may be Navy now, but they’re not rich kids from the academy; they’re seasoned vets; and since becoming a captain, Gifford’s has presided over some of the most impressive naval victories in our spacefaring history. She’s no bimbo.”

  For all that he hated what Levin was saying, he could not rebut his new first officer. Levin’s assessment was accurate to a tee and in spite the fact that Lorgen hated the idea of a woman captain, he knew it. If they were going to take Gifford’s and the Liberty, Lorgen and his crew would have to take their game to the next level and be on top of it one hundred percent. Any less and Gifford’s would annihilate them.

  “Duly noted, Mister Levin,” Lorgen finally growled. “Full ahead. I want that ship.”