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The Broken Cage (Solstice 31 Saga Book 2)

Page 18

by Martin Wilsey


  “Really?” She was curious. “Tell me.” She slowly stalked closer to Coff. He, apparently, felt intimidated by Hume, and by Rand.

  “They say they appeared in impossible places. Usually all in black.” He gestured at her black flight suit and body armor. “They were hooded and had horrible magic. Death magic. Quiet magic. Loud magic. Dark magic.”

  Hume still slowly moved toward him. He backed away, down the side of the Hammerhead to the tail end, as he continued. “People saw them sometimes, and lived. They say if a black tracker asked you a question, the only chance to survive was to answer, quickly.”

  “Can we trust this Keeper Ronan?” Hume asked. The shadows consumed her as she rounded the tail of the Hammerhead.

  Coff clung to the small amount of light that was given off by the systems in the cockpit of the small shuttle. “Ronan is a powerful Keeper. Maybe the most powerful Keeper, next to the Lord High Keeper.” Hume didn't reemerge from the shadows. “I trust him.”

  “Why?” Hume said, directly behind Coff.

  He tried not to flinch. Tried. “I measure a man by how he treats his slaves.”

  “And how is that?” she asked.

  “He has no slaves. People serve him, but out of loyalty. And women...” He stuttered, “He is not a typical Keeper.”

  Hume stepped into the light, stretching again, the articulation of her armor made no sound as it glided over her torso. Hume caught him staring, again. “What do you mean? Not typical?”

  “Women. He takes wives. Not just bed wenches. And, only one at a time. If they want to leave him, he lets them. At least, that's what they say. He has been with the same woman for as long as I can remember.” Hume noticed he seemed uncomfortable telling her this.

  “What's not typical about that?” She stopped advancing. It was evident Coff didn't want to back out of the light.

  “He...He is the Keeper. He sits on the council. He lets women... Encourages...” Coff stammered.

  “Hello, Coff.” Rand just stood there, at the edge of the light. He didn't see her until she took off her helmet.

  He managed not to jump, this time.

  “Hume, we have eleven minutes before the moon sets,” Rand said.

  She nodded, ignoring Coff. Rand and Hume climbed into the Hammerhead. It lifted off silently and drifted to the hangar bay’s opening.

  Coff was left in full darkness. Less afraid, now that he was alone.

  ***

  They landed the Hammerhead on the top of the rocky hill. The sky was clear and the stars bright as the laser antenna tuned in. Their hail was acknowledged, immediately, by Cook.

  Worthington spoke first. “It's not good. We've gone over the data six times and the Memphis will not fit. We’re now looking at modifying one of the lifeboats to get us down to the planet. We'd lose the Memphis, but if we can, at least, find a way to do some fine navigation through that hole, we’ll have a chance to survive.”

  “Jim, you look like shit,” Rand said, bluntly. “You’re not doing us any good, if you’re fried.”

  “I know. I just needed to tell you a few things before I headed in for rack time.” Jimbo scrubbed his face. “There’s definitely another Emergency Module active down there north and east of you. We are transmitting coordinates.” Someone spoke to Worthington, from out of their line of sight.

  “Yes,” he said to someone, and then he spoke to Hume, again. “Do not contact them directly. Do not break radio silence. The scans also discovered that half of the launch tubes on these nuclear weapons platforms are facing the planet. There’s evidence, on the surface, that they have been used on the planet, in the past. But not for decades, or even a century.”

  “Oh shit,” Hume said.

  “It just keeps getting better and better,” Rand added.

  “We were hoping to use the reactors on the Memphis to power up this place like we did on the moon base. Could you pull one of them and bring it?”

  “I'll ask Elkin, but I don't think so. The lifeboat is not that big,” Jim said.

  “I’m going to take Coff back to East Isles, tonight. The details are in the report. I am cautiously optimistic,” Hume said.

  “You just like flying that Hammerhead around like a teenager,” Jimbo kidded.

  “It is fun. I just wish the Hammerhead was armed and armored,” Hume said. “I will leave the sensor package here, for now.”

  “We’re going to install the sensor package in Poole's trunk and see if we can do some recon locally,” Rand added.

  “One minute, sir,” Cook interrupted.

  Worthington had the last word. “Stay safe. Do not take any unwarranted chances. We have about four weeks before we get desperate. Check in, at moonrise, for status. Worthington out.”

  “Get some sleep, dumb-ass,” Rand tossed in, before the link closed.

  They heard Cook laughing, and then the link was lost.

  ***

  The Hammerhead was loaded with Coff's gear and Hume was prepped. She traveled light. She wore her tactical flight suit, her body armor, her helmet, and a winter cloak that Rand provided. She only carried her combat carbine.

  “I will check in with the Memphis, first thing, and then go see this Ronan,” Hume said.

  Rand, Vi, and Tannhauser assembled after that and ate a quick meal, to see them off.

  “Try not to kill them all, like last time,” Rand said to Hume, joking.

  The humor was entirely missed by the others, based on the looks on their faces.

  “I'll try, but no promises,” Hume said, as Rand lightly pounded her fist on Hume's shoulder.

  “Climb in, Coff.”

  He did, as the color faded from his face. Rand reached in and buckled his five-point harness and then handed him his pack.

  Coff hugged it to his chest.

  Hume climbed in, with practiced ease, and strapped in.

  “I’ll be back by this time, in three days. Or sooner,” Hume said, as she put on her helmet. Her personal HUD came on with the Hammerhead dashboard as the canopy closed.

  The silence felt oppressive to Coff when the canopy sealed. He felt the hum of the turbines starting to spin; but then, he felt a shift. The shuttle started to rise. Coff suddenly felt like he was upside down.

  “We’re going to fly out of the cavern and then up, on grav-foils, Coff. What this means is, if you puke in here, I’m going to kick your weak-ass.”

  “It's fine,” he said, shakily, as they flew toward the hangar bay’s opening, and then rose. He swore it felt like he was falling upward.

  The world rapidly fell away around him as they ascended. The turbines spun and drove them forward, and the falling feeling subsided.

  Coff decided it was better to close his eyes. Hume watched him on a back-facing camera on her headrest.

  “Coff, what do you think of all of this?” Hume asked.

  “It is magic and beyond my understanding,” he replied. His eyes shut, as Hume reached near supersonic speed.

  Hume backed off the throttle and leveled off at 2,000 meters.

  “That's not what I mean. Why are you doing any of this?” she reworded.

  “To serve my Keeper. You may be a powerful ally.” He paused. “If you don't kill us all.”

  Hume saw he was smiling, even though his eyes were still tightly shut.

  “Let's talk about food. Does this Keeper ever serve bacon or steaks?”

  ***

  They were out, over open water, in less than an hour, and approaching a large series of islands, in just over two hours. It was still mostly dark, but the lights to the east brightened.

  With her night vision, Hume saw the largest island had a city. Lights and chimneys gave off thermal signatures and defined the size of the city.

  “That is a big city, Coff.” Hume banked, so they could see it. “Where do they get enough firewood for the whole place?”

  “The Keeper's magic has freed them from heating with fire. Fires are mostly for ascetics and the very poor, now,” Coff said
, as a matter-of-fact.

  “How?” Hume asked, as she continued along the coast.

  “The Keeper makes air that burns. I have seen it. It can heat a massive amount of water. That water is fed to the city. It's very wonderful, especially in the winter.” Coff pointed. “We should land there on that smaller island. I know the man there. He can help us.”

  The island that he pointed toward was dark. When Hume circled it, she saw that it had a single, large home. Extensive docks held a few boats of various sizes, and above the docks, near the house, was a large patio that would make a perfect landing space for the small shuttle.

  The turbines spun down, as Hume said, “Hang onto your stomach, Coff. We are now on grav-foils only.”

  Coff, once again, had the funny feeling like he was hanging from his harness even though his eyes told him he was still upright and gently descending. The Hammerhead set down, lightly and quietly, as the feeling of normal gravity returned.

  As Hume shut down the remaining systems, Coff said, “I'm so sorry, Hume. Please don't kill them.”

  She looked up in time to see dozens of men, dressed in black uniforms and cloaks, flooding out of the house and from areas around the patio. They had weapons. Most held crossbows, but she also saw that every sixth man had a plasma rifle.

  In seconds, the Hammerhead faced about fifty men. All arranged so that none were at risk from the other’s crossfire.

  “Coff, what is this?” Hume said, coolly.

  “I'm sorry, Hume. You have to understand. I don't know you.” His voice trembled.

  “You really don't know me,” Hume said, as she pressed the button to raise the cowl. “Get out.” He knew, by her tone, she wasn't to be argued with.

  He struggled with it, finally unbuckling as the cowl rose. As soon as it was up, he climbed out, with his hands up. He walked a few steps from the Hammerhead and, without being asked, went to his knees and clasped his hands on top of his head.

  One of the black-clad men stepped forward, and said, “Good morning, Coff. Please remain still.”

  Hume slowly rose from the cockpit, and lightly stepped out and past Coff where he knelt.

  “And, what have we here?” the same man asked Hume's helmeted face.

  Hume said nothing.

  “Hume. Please,” Coff begged.

  Suddenly, a pair of darts struck Hume in the center of her chest. Electricity arced between the needles as she stood there, not reacting. She pulled the darts out with her gloved hand. And, let them drop.

  Hume spoke. She didn't amplify or use any other enhanced capabilities in her gear.

  “Aren't you going to introduce us, Coff?” Hume asked, casually, as two more sets of darts struck her, and she, absently, pulled them out.

  “Captain Burke.” His voice shook. “This is Hume. Please. Don't.”

  It was then that Burke realized Coff was begging Hume, not him.

  “I am here to see Keeper Ronan. I told Coff I would not harm anyone. Please don't make me break my word.” Her voice was calm yet menacing.

  “Get on your knees,” ordered Burke.

  She didn't move. Her Colt AR-79 rifle hung at her back beneath her cloak. Her hands flexed over the grips of her sidearms, like a gunfighter in the old West. They could not see her crazed smile because of her helmet. That would have made them more afraid.

  When the crossbow bolt struck her, she didn't even flinch.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The Hole Mapped

  “That was the first time Ben, our AI, acted in a way that was unusual. Ben was not to blame, and neither was Barcus.”

  --Solstice 31 Incident Investigation Testimony Transcript: Captain James Worthington, senior surviving member of the Ventura's command crew.

  <<<>>>

  Captain Worthington walked down the cargo ramp of the Memphis, toward the airlock, the gravity reducing as he approached the edge of the apron.

  He sipped his tea as he activated the intercom on the airlock control panel. “Good morning, Angie. Did you have a nice night? I did. It was my first, decent night’s sleep since this whole thing started. Tell me why I should not execute you before breakfast.”

  Jim watched her through the door’s window. She stopped her pacing, taken aback.

  “You wouldn't dare,” she growled.

  “It turns out the hole in the security net is too small for the Memphis,” Jim said, casually.

  He let the implication settle in, for a moment.

  “So, I’m running out of reasons not to decompress the airlock and freeze your body for the stew pots, later.”

  The subtle menace in his voice was not lost on her. This statement seemed to frighten her more than anything else.

  “No. You can't. You need me, if you want to survive,” Bowen said, as Worthington worked on the panel.

  “What are you doing?” Bowen had panic in her voice as the decompression warning strobe began to flash. “No. I have information.” She watched him sip his tea. His face was hard. “You fool. You were supposed to be stationed farther out. This is not my fault. The Memphis wasn't supposed to be destroyed.”

  Worthington raised an eyebrow. “You knew this would happen. That's why you were on the Memphis?”

  “Yes!” She was thoroughly panicked now. “They ordered me to stay onboard during the last crew change. They said you were a Boy Scout and that the Memphis would come back intact via FTL. Bloody hell. They said they needed the data. They left me to bring it back.”

  “What data?” he asked.

  “Promise you won't kill me, or I won't tell you.” Bowen choked down her panic.

  “No deals,” he growled, and hit a button.

  She heard the air hissing as it evacuated.

  Jim turned and began to walk away.

  Bowen ran up to the window, screaming, “Nooooo...Alright, I will tell you! Please.”

  Jimbo didn't stop walking, until she said the word please. Slowly, he turned and walked back. He knew that by now, her eardrums felt like they were about to burst.

  He waited a few more seconds, sipped his tea, then hit the cancel button. Another button reversed the process, returning the pressure and air to the compartment. When it normalized, Bowen dropped to her knees. Her hands were still secured behind her back.

  “Last chance,” was all he said.

  It all spilled out of her in a flood, along with the tears on her face.

  ***

  “Morning, Captain,” Cook said, as Jim entered the bridge. Muir nodded and Tyrrell looked up.

  “We will have line of sight with the East Isles in eight minutes, sir,” Tyrrell said.

  “Did you space the bitch?” Beary asked, adding as an afterthought, “Sir.”

  “Why are all the women on this ship so ruthless and/or bloodthirsty, Karen?” Worthington asked.

  “Because you like us that way, Captain,” Karen Beary answered.

  “Why is everyone so damn chipper this morning? Is it because I look good in this beard? Didn't you get the memo? We're all dead in a month.”

  Gallows humor was the right tone this morning. They laughed.

  Beary added, “Cook thinks he’s a hot enough pilot to fly through that hole. We've been running simulations all night.”

  Cook chimed in. “It started as a simulation to fire the lifeboat through on a slow vector launched from the cargo apron. Taking a page from Hume's flight path, if I barrel roll the Memphis at the right moment, I could get it through. I'm already up to a sixty percent success rate, on simulations. And, I have weeks to practice. Here’s the best part.” Cook brought up a simulation of the last try they managed to get through.

  The simulation started with first the Hammerhead, then the lifeboat, going through. “Everyone else can go through on the lifeboat. That way, I am only risking my life.” The Memphis slowly entered the security net and then executed a sharp roll that looked like a cartwheel. And, it got through. “At that point, I will follow the lifeboat down on grav-foils, pick everyone up and
head to the rendezvous with Rand and Hume. If I don't make it through, just have them name a high school after me, when you get back home.”

  Kuss entered the bridge while Cook was walking through the simulation. “Very nice, Cook,” Kuss said, with her accent thicker than usual. “Remind me to give sex down on planet you, if live.”

  Everyone laughed, again.

  “Jimbo, can we talk?”

  Worthington looked at Tyrrell. “Line of sight in one minute.”

  “Can it wait a few minutes, Kuss?” Worthington asked.

  “Yes, sir,” she said, but stayed right next to the arm of the command chair.

  They passed into line of sight and did not receive the expected hail. They waited two minutes, and then ten. Finally, after twenty minutes, Worthington stood. The good mood kept draining from the bridge, the longer they waited.

  Speaking to Tyrrell, he said, “Matt, I will be in the conference room.”

  He motioned for Kuss to follow him. They said nothing on the way to the conference room. She didn't speak until the door closed.

  “Kill her, now. Bitch. She knew. Helped murder everyone. Hamilton find out. So murdered her, too. Let me. I kill her slow.”

  Kuss was beside herself. Jim had never seen her like this before.

  “Slow down, Kuss. Sit. Slow down. Breathe.” Jim motioned her to a chair.

  She took a deep breath. She rocked her neck and it made a cracking sound that seemed to calm her. She took another deep breath.

  “I searched her things. Never did before. The equipment included a private, secure comms unit. Out Band. Stupid bitch used same password everywhere. Opened comms. She recorded, for later blackmail, me thinks. Ben, please play back message.”

  It was Captain Neimann, the captain that rotated out four months ago. “You'll be fine, Bowen. The worse part will be spending another four months with that asshole James ‘Boy Scout’ Worthington. We'll need to handle him later, anyway. If you want a bonus, come back without him. That whole command crew is on the list, anyway.”

  Kuss asked AI~Ben to play the next one. He did. “All of them need to be taken out and shot with their own guns.” Bowen spewed out in the audio. “Who do they think they are? Spreading their filth across the galaxy.”

 

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