“Leave him alone,” Naero said.”
“It’s embarrassing,” Ellis said. “And you keep protecting him like a child, Naero. Let him stand on his own.”
“That’s enough,” Naero said. “We’re in this thing together, like it or not. Anyone who doesn’t pull together or pull their weight can go for a walk out in that storm, right now. Copy?”
Silence. Naero strapped back in and focused on her final approach.
The ship hit the ocean a little faster than she intended, but she wanted to submerge quickly.
The waves tossed them about, even with their gravitic compensators.
Once they sank far enough down, the dark world beneath the surface went relatively calm.
A warning signal went off.
“Naero,” Gallan noted. “We just took a hit on our transponder. Waiting for verification code response. Authenticate.”
“We’ll punch it fast and blow back out of here if we don’t get the correct response,” Naero said. “We’re ready either way.”
“Response confirmed and verified,” Gallan said. “They’re our contact all right, six kilometers north by northeast–locked on. Arrival in several minutes.”
Naero ran for the mist shower, calling it first.
Deep scans revealed an old Spacer battleship, probably long since hidden here during the last Spacer War. Rumors held that numerous ships had been secreted on certain Corps worlds, despite all the treaties.
In case of another war, the mothballed ships could be crewed and emerge for quick strike missions behind enemy lines. Spacers called them Shadow Fleets.
Naero’s small striker fit easily into one of the old battleship’s cargo bays.
Naero waited for the water to be ejected from the sealed hold, listening to the groaning sounds of the big ship and the hum of its old pumps.
When the green All Clear signal lit up, she and her friends emerged into the damp loading bay.
A panel slid open. Aunt Sleak ran out, along with Jan, much to Naero’s surprise and relief.
Naero and Gallan met them half-way. Several Spacer Intel agents, geared up in strike armor, took up positions around them. Pulse rifles ready.
“Naero,” Jan said, tears in his eyes, “So glad to see you, N.”
“We couldn’t believe it,” Aunt Sleak said, “not after the explosion on that freighter. We thought you and Gallan had been blasted to atoms until Shadowforce contacted us. We even held your wakes along with the other casualties from the battle.”
Jan grinned. “How does it feel to be a ghost, sib?”
Aunt Sleak didn’t say anything about her and Gallan disobeying orders. Yet.
They still would have been abducted.
Jan gave her another big hug. “Been lonely without you, sib. Who else can I plot the future with?”
“I hear you have some new friends.” Aunt Sleak said. She glared briefly at Ellis. “A Matayan prince no less, Naero? How did you get linked up with him, and this lander kid?”
Naero rolled her eyes. “It’s a long story. Meet Tarim, from the mining freighter. And this is Ellis, Prince of House Tarret.”
Naero wondered when she would need to broach the clone issue. Did Ellis know? Perhaps not.
But it came straight from the Matayan Emperor himself. He ought to know.
Aunt Sleak’s eye’s went to black slits when she shot a full hard look at Ellis. She offered him no greeting.
At least she didn’t stab him, shoot him, or attack him outright.
Even Ellis turned pale under her withering gaze and swallowed hard.
“Easy, Aunt Sleak,” Naero told her. “I know this is extremely weird, but Ellis is a friend...sort of. We rescued him from some Triax goon, who tortured him as a political hostage. He’s been running with us ever since. He’s been on our side, and hasn’t done anything wrong.”
“House Tarret’s corsairs helped take out your parents’ fleet,” Aunt Sleak pointed out.
“Along with Triax and several other Gigacorps,” Naero said. “I don’t think Ellis had anything to do with that directly. Like I said, he’s been a Triaxian political hostage. The Corps are forcing his people to be their shock troops, against their will.”
“Yeah, they would never do anything like that on their own,” Aunt Sleak said.
There went that sudden throat full of dust again, always around Aunt Sleak.
“I assured him that he would not be harmed,” Naero said, “and that we wouldn’t ransom him.”
Aunt Sleak’s eyes bulged. She cocked her head and put her hands on her hips in disbelief.
“I gave him my word,” Naero said.
Aunt Sleak folded her arms about herself, rocked back on her heels and nodded her head. “Well, then damn me all to hell. How generous of you, Naero. Perhaps we should throw in a few megs for his trouble. Invite him to a banquet in his honor. May you always be so confident in your decisions.”
“Captain, excuse me for interrupting,” Gallan said. “But we have vital information for Spacer Intel. All of us are emotionally strained; we’re exhausted and hungry. Can we get debriefed and sort the rest out later?”
“Works for me,” Aunt Sleak said, still fuming. “You two, with me. These other two...will be seen to.”
Naero raised an eyebrow.
“And treated well,” the captain added. “Even his highness there.”
Naero turned to Tarim and Ellis and whispered, “go on; it’ll be all right.”
“I get the distinct impression,” Ellis whispered back, “that your aunt would like nothing better than to tear out my liver with her teeth and feast on it.”
Naero half-grinned. “Keep that in mind. I wouldn’t put it past her...or be able to stop her.”
“She really doesn’t like me.”
“Ellis, I’m not sure I like you. Don’t tell me that the older generations of your people who went through the wars are any different? But we and our people don’t have to remain enemies forever. Maybe we can find a way to help each other.”
Ellis forced a smile. “I suppose so, especially since I find myself so frequently surrounded by Spacers. Perhaps I need a few friends among them to help me hang onto my liver and other internals.”
“A wise choice,” she said. “Do as they say and you guys’ll be all right.”
Irith, the Spacer Intel leftenant assigned to them, grilled Naero and Gallan for what seemed like several eternal hours.
They went over everything in as much detail as they could, many times over.
Toward the end, both Naero and Gallan drooped and yawned. They hadn’t been given anything to eat or drink, or even allowed to go to the bathroom.
Naero’s kidneys felt about to pop. At least she’d put clean togs on beforehand.
“Leftenant,” Aunt Sleak finally said. “I think that’s about all you’re going to get right now, until the lab tests get underway tomorrow. The new equipment is still being set up. Give my people here a breather. They need to take care of their own business and get some chow and rest.”
“Very well,” Irith said.
“Begin briefing them on their escape personas. You’ll need to move quickly after the testing period ends. Get out of Corps Space. Our forces will assist you along the way.”
“Any news on mounting tensions between Corps and Spacers?”
“Not yet, Sleak. They fluctuate everywhere. Serious incidents continue to increase. The Corps slant everything in their media to make it look like Spacers are trying to incite another war.”
“Has anyone declared yet?”
“If they do, every Spacer in Corps space becomes a target. It’ll be bad, just like the last Spacer Wars. We’ll lose a lot of vulnerable people and merchant fleets and ships initially.”
“This is insane,” Naero said. She worried about her friends, her family.
“War always is,” the leftenant said. “I was a cadet pilot in the last Spacer War, barely old enough. Things got very crazy. But if the Corps think we’ve ga
ined a potential tek advantage greater than what we have, they might just think it prudent to attack first and wipe us out before we can apply it.”
“That’s really insane,” Naero said.
“Don’t expect that reality to change any time soon,” Aunt Sleak told her. “Maybe never. People, let’s go. We’ve been dismissed. Spacer Intel will keep poring over what you’ve given them and pick the bones clean.”
After quick stops at their quarters, they went to the nearest mess hall.
Naero and Gallan ate and ate until they might burst.
Even though she couldn’t eat another bite, the smell of food all around still tantalized her.
“So, where’s the fleet?” Naero asked.
Aunt Sleak’s face darkened. “Still making their rounds, far as I know. Wasn’t safe for Jan and me to stay with them. Sold the fleet to Zalvano for a cred. It’s all legal. He’ll carry on until we can all make it out of here and link up again.”
“Aunt Sleak,” Naero said. “I don’t want my friends treated like prisoners.”
“I’ll do what I can. Tutors will work with your friends–even the Matayan.”
Another glaring look. Aunt Sleak handed chips to Naero and Gallan. “These data files have the uploaded dossiers on your guises that you’ll use to escape. Study and learn them carefully over the next few days.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Naero asked.
“We’ll try to slip out of Corps Space as independents,” Aunt Sleak said. “To do that, we’ll take a long slow loop through the Corps, doing our business along the way. They’ll expect us to make a hell-bent run for Free Space. They’re stopping every runner who doesn’t pause to do business. That would just bring suspicion down on us.”
“Great,” Jan said. “Maybe we can at least make some profits along the way. I know of several hot spots that we could deal with. That full-blown miner revolt continues to explode across multiple sectors. The revolt leader has a powerful psyon working for him–”
“We might have to go through a few of those hot spots, but we won’t take any chances,” Aunt Sleak said. “No risky deals, Jan. This all might be a big game to you, but these players are in earnest. The Corps play for keeps. I don’t want a hothead like you blowing our cover. I’ll shoot you myself before I let that happen. Copy?”
Jan’s eyes went wide. “Got it,” he said.
“And Naero, I want you to stay close to me and follow my lead, got that? No more running off on your own either. That headstrong crap didn’t work for your mother, and it will get you killed too. You follow orders. Whatever I say.”
“I will.”
Naero stroke the Nytex on her hips.
“This Kexxian Data Matrix is too important to our people,” Aunt Sleak said. “If the Corps get it, in a few decades they’ll be able to take us out. I can’t emphasize this enough. We have to keep it from them, at all costs–even our own lives.”
“We’re not stupid,” Gallan said. “I think we understand that, Captain.”
“You’d better. We’ll remain here just long enough for Intel to conduct whatever tests and bio-scans on Jan and Naero that they need to. After that, we’ll head out. You’ll all undergo intense training in weapons and espionage with Intel each day.
“Sleep when you can. You’ll need it.”
31
Spacer Intel began an intense battery of tests and full bioscans on Naero and Jan, starting that night when they slept, in the lab, and for eight to ten hours each day thereafter.
When they left the lab each morning, Spacer Intel ran them ragged with training, until they staggered back to the lab to get hooked up again for the next night.
The testing only occasionally got painful. Headaches were common.
But usually the tests lapsed into in long, drawn-out periods where they needed to lie completely still. For hours. At times the medteks strapped them down to keep them from moving.
An entire platoon of over forty Intel specialists, including five Cumi of various ages, pored and prodded and picked over them.
It bothered Naero the most that the Intel people were incredibly tight-lipped and wouldn’t tell her or Jan very much. They barely whispered to each other around them, and went off into adjoining rooms for heated arguments and debates.
On more than one occasion, they evacuated the lab in organized panic, terrified at some potential defensive reaction from the Kexxian Matrix itself.
Even when she checked with Om, neither she nor he could figure out what was going on.
Naero recalled the vids of the so called “Kexxian Plague” on Tora-3.
What other defenses did the Kexxian Matrix have? The Intel teks spoke about the data in hushed tones only a few times, like it was some living, breathing thing that might possess multiple intellects and a will of its own.
Om was just one case in point to Naero’s mind. She wasn’t sure that she should still keep him secret.
Intel fled the lab in such a hurry once that she and Jan were left behind, still secured and strapped down in their modified medbeds.
Naero constantly spotted the Spacer Intel Chief–the one her aunt called Klyne. Tall, late forties, short, sandy brown hair, piercing black eyes. Klyne moved like a fighter. She had yet to speak with him directly, but he kept watch over everything on board The Alamo it seemed.
What info Jan and she did get often came to them secondhand from Aunt Sleak, and Naero wasn’t even sure that their aunt told them everything.
They endured this madness for over a week, and still it dragged on.
During that same period, Naero’s delusions gave her four extra delusional arms that waved around, trying to break through and grasp and handle things. It became very distracting.
By the end of the week, thankfully, the extra limbs with a mind of their own went away.
Then the following morning, Naero woke up with about a dozen illusionary tentacles or tendrils of some kind, this time protruding from her back.
Like having a squid emerging from her torso.
How wonderful.
Naero did her best to ignore them, thankful time and time again that no one else could sense her private madness.
She shuddered to think sometimes what would happen if Om did break free, and actually used some of the Kexxian Data Matrix’s defensive capabilities.
From what Om told her, they were–in fact–nearly without limits. Naero spent a lot of time arguing with him about not hurting or destroying her and her friends in his zeal to protect their secrets.
For the others, all of them except Ellis sharpened their weapons training in the Intel War Rooms. The heavily shielded battle training facilities allowed them to practice live fire with most of the small arms available throughout the Corps and the known systems.
The array of weapons–dizzying.
To everyone’s surprise, Tarim quickly took to the instruction and rapidly became an amazing marksman, although at first he was better with pistols than rifles.
Naero watched him as he advanced, nailing target after target, dead on–some at extreme, simulated ranges of three and four kilometers with advanced targeting optics.
“Impressive,” she told him. “Tarim, you’re a natural sharpshooter.”
“Thanks. But I still have trouble with combat shooting. If I can take my time in a low stress situation, I almost never miss. Yet in combat simulation, I still get too excited, and my hit ratio drops way down.”
Naero hugged him. “You’re a hard worker. You’ll get better.”
He blushed and beamed at her approval.
He came off the firing line the next day with a near perfect combat score.
He ran in to tell Naero and Gallan where they cleaned and serviced their weapons for that day.
“Finally, I found something I can do right,” he said. “I’m improving every day, according to the Intel instructors.”
Naero patted him on the back. “Congrats, Tarim. They say with continued training, they could make a sniper ou
t of you. Could you handle that?”
“I think so. There’s so many things I’d like to do, guys.”
“Have you found a particular field you’d like to pursue?” Gallan asked. They knew the lander studied hard to find his way.
“I like geology and archeology a lot. I think I might study them once this is all over. I have to thank you and your people for all these blessings, guys. It would have never been possible for me to learn any of this stuff, trapped where I was.”
“You’ll do well,” Naero said.
Slowly but surely, Tarim was making the transition from slave to real person–even a budding warrior and intellectual.
Naero put her weapons back onto the return cart and checked them in. Tarim finished with his. She helped him put them away.
“C’mon,” Gallan said. “We’re late for practice with the powered armor simulators and unit shield devices. Walk over with us, Tarim. We’ll catch up with Jan and the others.”
Tarim seemed very pleased to be with them. Too eager to be around Naero. His gaze followed her everywhere with an intense look of longing.
They were friends and comrades now, but not anything else, at least in Naero’s mind.
Gallan was right. Tarim had it pretty bad for her. And that made it tough. She didn’t want to hurt him.
She needed to find the right time and the right way to settle the romance issue with him once and for all.
She just wasn’t sure how to do it yet.
While Ellis remained a completely different problem on the other end of the spectrum.
She needed to get past that, too. And deal with Om’s growing intellect and curiosity, and the Kexxian Data Matrix, and their escape, and the Corps.
Sometimes she felt certain her head was going to explode.
But part of her still rebelled and didn’t want to do anything but go somewhere and goof off.
She knew that wasn’t right.
Their armor and shielding session ended. Naero started back toward her quarters, soaked with sweat and exhausted, for a relaxing mist shower and some badly needed alone time.
Is your battle training over? Most interesting. Can we talk now?
Spacer Clans Adventure 1: Naero's Run Page 23