Her Brother's Keeper

by Mike Kupari

  Anna Kay, who had been quiet, tapped the side of her head with her finger. “I may be able to help you with that, Cecil,” she said.

  “Oh?”

  “The University Byzantium has a very well-funded xenoarchaeology department. Ancient Antecessor artifacts have been found on my homeworld as well, and researching them is one of the colonial government’s top priorities. We may be able to work out a trade agreement.”

  “Anna, love, I appreciate that, but how do you propose to do all this?”

  The archaeologist smiled. “As Zak would say, I’m kind of a big deal on my homeworld. The New Constantinople government has a policy of buying any and all artifacts from Antecedent Species, no questions asked, even if the prices are inflated. It’s one way of cracking down on the black market: they simply buy it out.”

  Cecil looked confused. “Yes, but how do you propose to arrange this?”

  “I’ll explain later,” Zak said.

  “Yes, well, let’s focus on the matter at hand,” Catherine said. “Cecil, you’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll have you work out the details with the ship’s purser at your leisure. There is also one other thing you may be interested in. Again, it’s worth nothing to me if I can’t sell it to someone who can exploit it, and . . . to be honest, I’d like to show Father that I’m still willing to put my homeworld first, even if I don’t live there anymore.”

  “Right. What is it?”

  Catherine tapped her handheld a couple of times. A detailed, 3D image of a massive ship appeared in the holotank. “She’s called the Agamemnon, and she dates back to the Second Federation. She’s mostly intact, though we were unable to ascertain what happened to her crew. We found her adrift by chance. It’s possible someone else will find her before you can get there, and it’s doubtful anyone will respect the salvage claim beacon we left. But she’s out there, waiting for someone to uncover her secrets. I’ll sell the info to the company for a fraction of what I could get for it on the open market.”

  Cecil, Zak, and Anna all stared at the holotank, fascinated. Zak shook his head. “What a find!”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal,” Cecil said, not taking his eyes off of the hologram.

  Catherine touched her ear for a moment, as if listening to her headset. “I see. Stand by.” She tapped the controls, and the hologram of the Agamemnon was replaced with the face of Aristotle Lang.

  “. . . citizens of Freeport, for too long you have lived in squalor, forgotten about by your self-appointed masters who sit comfortably behind walls and fences. Now is your moment! Rise up! Throw off the yoke of oppression and join me! I have in my possession a wealth of ancient alien artifacts, and I will use them to rebuild Zanzibar! Our home will know the glory it once did, but only if you fight by my side! Join me! Rise up! Kill the Enforcers, take their weapons! All of you who are forced to scratch a living from this desolate world, while Frank DeWitt and his board sit fat and happy, not wanting for anything, rise up! Ninety-nine percent of this world’s inhabitants live in squalor, while the elite one percent have everything! I say no more! I say it’s time for the revolution! Join me, and take back what is rightfully yours!”

  Cecil felt sick. “My God.”

  Lang wasn’t done yet. An image of Catherine, Cecil, and the Andromeda herself appeared on the screen. The warlord’s expression darkened. “These two people are brother and sister by the name of Blackwood. The woman is the captain of this ship, which is now berthed in Freeport. Bring me their heads, and I will make you wealthy beyond your wildest dreams. Deliver me the ship intact, and I’ll reward you just as generously. To the spaceport controllers, I say, I will pay you ten times your yearly salary if you don’t release that ship from the landing tower. You will be rewarded. Aristotle Lang always keeps his word. These people are off-worlders who’ve come to loot this world to steal our precious resources and sell them elsewhere.”

  He looked right at the screen, as if speaking directly to Catherine and Cecil. “You thought you could betray me, Captain? You think I am some uneducated fool? You think you can back out of a deal, kill my men, and steal my property without consequence? I will take your ship, Captain, and it will be my ship. Surrender now and I’ll let your crew live. Resist and I’ll kill every last one of them. The choice is yours.” The message ended.

  “Wolfram says that the message has been looping over and over,” Catherine said. “Our watch-standers are reporting gunfire at the spaceport.” Cecil turned green and looked as if he was going to throw up. Ignoring her brother, the she spoke into her headset. “Can we launch? How long? Damn it. Any response? Understood. Get every spare crewman on it.” She looked at the others in Astrogation. “The situation is quickly deteriorating in Freeport. When Lang’s message went out, riots began in the slums almost immediately. We have reports of actual street fighting going on downtown. He may have been planning something like this for a while, and it would appear that he’s successfully infiltrated Freeport.”

  “How is this possible?” Zak asked.

  “There’s no way this is spontaneous,” Marcus Winchester answered. “Outside the walls of Freeport are the ruins of Nova Prospect, the former capital city of Zanzibar.”

  “The locals call it the Dead City,” Cecil said.

  “It’d be a good place to prestage materiel and weapons for just such a day, too,” Marcus said. “No, this is a contingency plan. The bastard’s probably had it for a long time. He just wasn’t ready to make his move.”

  “What . . . what shall we do?” Cecil asked.

  His sister looked thoughtful and fell silent, mind racing, eyes darting back and forth. “Mr. Mesa. I want you to contact our friends in Sanctuary. They undoubtedly know about it already, but just in case, give them a call. Ask for help, see if they can spare anyone to defend the spaceport until we can leave. Any help at all would be appreciated.”

  “Uh, yes, ma’am,” Zak said.

  “We’re still locked into the landing tower. The spaceport controllers aren’t responding, and it seems they’ve fled as well. We called for help from the Freeport Enforcers, but got no response from them, either. I was assured that they could protect the city, damn it all. I even paid some extra bribes for them to keep watch over our ship, for all the good it did. It’s possible that Lang’s men are overrunning spaceport control even as we speak. Marcus, I’m afraid I have to ask for your help one last time.”

  “Understood, Captain,” the mercenary said. “Damned shame we lost the heavy. We could really use it right now. I’ll get my team together, pull up the spaceport plans, and come up with a strategy.”

  Cecil’s sister nodded. “Quickly, please, we don’t have much time.” She tapped her headset, activating the ship’s internal PA system. “This is the captain speaking,” she said, her voice echoing throughout the ship. “Go to general quarters. We are presently locked into the landing tower and are unable to lift off. As I’m sure you’ve all heard by now, the natives are restless and should be presumed to be hostile. All available crew, draw weapons and stand by to repel boarders. This is not a drill. That is all.”

  Cecil was unable to take anymore; he turned and threw up.

  His sister sighed. “And can we get that cleaned up, please?”

  “Sorry,” Cecil said, meekly.

  * * *

  Annabelle Winchester was hurriedly making sure all shipping containers on the cargo deck were lashed down and secured properly. The word had come down that as soon as the ship was free of the landing tower, they’d be lifting off, and they needed to be ready to go at any time. When the work was finished, she was to report to the arms locker to draw weapons. This is not a drill. Annie was scared, and kept hoping she’d wake up from this nightmare, but it never seemed to end.

  She perked up when her father slid down the ladder to the cargo deck. “Dad!” she said, running over to him. “What’s going on?”

  Her father directed his team to get their weapons and gear out from where they were stored. “You heard the ca
ptain’s announcement, Annie.”

  “Oh my God,” she said, unable to hide the fear in her voice. “What’s going to happen?”

  Her father put a hand on Annie’s shoulder. “Nothing bad’s going to happen, baby. The guys and me are gonna go over to the spaceport control office, release the landing tower, then come back. As soon as that’s done we’ll be on our way home.”

  “But she said to prepare to repel boarders!”

  “The locals are having some problems right now, that’s all. Listen to me. Honey? Look at me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, or to the ship. Okay? Stay calm. You have to stay calm. If you panic, you’ve already lost. Do you understand?”

  Annie nodded. “Okay. Yeah, I’m okay. I can do this.”

  “I know you can, baby. Look, I haven’t said this enough, but I’m so goddamn proud of you I could bust. Look at you! I know you’ll be fine, no matter what.”

  “You’ll be fine too, Dad,” Annie insisted. “Promise me!”

  “I swear, Annie. I’ll come back to you. We’ll be back in a few minutes. I have to go now, okay? The sooner we get this done the sooner we can go.”

  “Okay, Daddy.” Annie hugged her father tightly. “I love you. Please be careful.”

  “I love you too, Annie.”

  “Crewman Winchester!” Kimball said, jogging up to her. “Are all containers secured?”

  “They are, Mr. Kimball,” Annie said. “We’re ready to lift off at any time.”

  “Excellent,” Kimball said. “Now come with me, quickly, to the arms locker. Can you shoot?”

  Annie’s father interjected. “She’s a better shot than anyone else on your crew,” he said proudly. “But you keep her down here, okay? Kimball, please, she’s my daughter. She’s sixteen.”

  “Dad, I can fight!” Annie protested.

  “No worries, Mercenary Winchester,” Kimball said. “It was my intention to have her stay here with me. I won’t let her out of my sight. I promise you, as long as I’m still breathing, no harm will come to your daughter. She’s my shipmate.”

  Marcus nodded, leaned down, and stuck out his hand. Kimball took it, and the two men exchanged an Earth-style handshake. Annie’s father turned and went to put on his gear with the rest of his team. Kimball turned to Annie, “We’ll be fine. I’ll be here with you. Come with me, now. We need to draw weapons.”

  Annie nodded and followed Kimball up the ladder.

  * * *

  In the bowels of the ship, Marcus Winchester led his team down toward the personnel hatch. Like most ships of her class, the Andromeda was designed to be serviced from a landing tower at a spaceport. She did, however, have access ladders so that crew could come and go in the event a landing tower was unavailable. A narrow passageway, squeezed between the main propellant tank and the outer hull, led to a vertical shaft with a lift large enough to move only two people at a time. Rather than use the lift, Marcus asked the ship’s crew to disable it so that he and his team could access the ladder. It was a long climb down, but it would be a lot faster that way.

  The Freeport Spaceport was in chaos. Lang’s call to arms had caused an uprising in the slums and shantytowns; thousands of dissatisfied locals, living in squalor, were rioting, burning, looting, and stealing whatever they could. Rival gangs were shooting it out in the streets, and Freeport’s Enforcers were under siege everywhere. The spaceport itself was being mobbed, as thousands tried to flee the carnage for the perceived safety of the ships. There were only four ships at the Spaceport, and none of the locals tried to get on board the Andromeda. The other ships, also unable to take off, were fending off the locals by force of arms.

  Lang’s army had infiltrated the city well in advance, and reinforcements were on the way. The Enforcers were losing the fight, and had seemingly abandoned the spaceport. Marcus estimated that within a day or so, Lang would be in control of Freeport, and his army would sack the city, raping, looting, and killing as they pleased. From a professional standpoint, Marcus couldn’t help but admire Lang’s tactics. The decision to attack was undoubtedly made in a fit of rage, but it was working, because he’d planned ahead. The defenders had grossly underestimated how powerful Lang’s forces had become, hadn’t been aware of how successful their infiltration efforts were, and had been caught off-guard. If the mercenaries couldn’t free the ship, he very much doubted any of them would make it out of this alive, including his daughter.

  “Alright, listen up,” Marcus said, addressing his team in the cramped passageway. “I’m going down first. The ladder comes out by the landing jacks. It’s going to be wide open out there, so we’re going to have to move quickly. Wade, I want you right behind me, and have your breaching charges ready. I’m going to try to pop the hatch to the service tunnels that run under the spaceport. If I can’t get them open, you’ll have to blow them.”

  “I’ll get the sumbitch open,” Wade said.

  Marcus keyed his radio. “Overwatch, this is Cowboy-6. You in position?”

  “Roger that, Boss,” Devree replied. She was on the bridge that connected the landing tower to the ship’s cargo bay. It was exposed on all sides but the bottom, but it gave her a good vantage point. “I’ve got you covered.”

  “You okay up there?”

  “Affirmative. I’ve got security from the ship’s crew watching my back.” Crewmembers had drawn lasers and rocket guns from the ship’s armory, and Devree had a three-man team, led by Mazer Broadbent, protecting her.

  “Understood. If the hostiles start coming up the tower, you fall back into the ship. Don’t be a hero.” As Devree acknowledged, Marcus turned his attention back to his team. “The rest of you, hold here until we give you the signal. No sense in all of us milling around down there while we’re dickering with the hatch. I only want one man on the ladder at a time. Move fast, but for hell’s sake don’t fall. The ship will cover us with its lasers as much as it can, but they weren’t designed to fire at stuff on the ground, beneath its own fins. There are big blind spots, and the captain is hesitant to use ship weapons when there are so many civilians running around. On that note, check your shots! There are a lot of bad guys down there, and none of them are wearing uniforms, but there are a lot of innocent people out there too. Let’s not make this shithole any worse than it is, yeah?”

  The team acknowledged. Marcus turned to Wade. “You ready, partner?”

  The explosives expert grinned. “Are you?”

  “Hell no,” Marcus said. He reached around to the back of Wade’s head and pulled their heads together so their helmets collided with a hollow THOCK! “Let’s do it.” He slung his weapon and descended down the ladder.

  After a few meters, the vertical shaft opened up to daylight. Scrambling down the ladder as fast as he could safely go, Marcus took in the insanity all around him. Hundreds of people were running around the launch pads, stealing whatever wasn’t bolted down. Gunfire echoed across the spaceport, and columns of acrid smoke rose from the city beyond. Lang’s plan had been executed brilliantly, and Marcus was impressed with how quickly the city had gone to hell. As an irregular warfare veteran, he could appreciate beautifully executed chaos on a professional level. After a few moments, he was on the ground. He radioed Wade to come on down, took a knee, and readied his weapon.

  “Contact,” Devree said calmly. “Armed men coming in from the south side.” Her rifle roared as it launched a huge APHE slug downrange. The suppressed barrel had been damaged in the rocket barrage that had killed Markgraf, and she’d had to use her spare. “One down,” she said coldly. The rifle roared again. “Two down. The rest are retreating.”

  Marcus acknowledged her as Wade landed on the launch pad. “Come on,” he said to his partner. “Hatch is this way.” The two mercenaries moved quickly, breathing heavily through their respirators, trying to maintain a low profile as they made their way to the hatch. The launch pad was huge, and the access hatch was over the edge. At the edge of the pad, there was a short two-meter ladder that led down t
o ground level. In between the launch pads was nothing but rocky, barren, exhaust-blasted ground.

  “Cowboy-6, this is the Andromeda,” Captain Blackwood said, over the radio. “Be advised, vehicles are inbound, presumed hostile. We can see armed individuals in them. They just crashed the gate on the north end of the spaceport and have entered the underground vehicle tunnels. The tunnels open up to the surface about a hundred meters from the launch pad. There is presently a battle going on at the city gates. Lang’s reinforcements are here. Please hurry.”

  “Understood,” Marcus said. “I see the tunnel entrance.” He turned to Wade. “Get down!” The partners dropped into the prone, weapons leveled, just as a trio of 4×4 trucks came roaring out of the underground tunnels. They each had heavy weapons, machine guns or rocket launchers, mounted in their beds, and began firing wildly at the Andromeda.

  “Rocket launcher!” Wade shouted. He ripped off shot after shot at the lead truck, which was fitted with piecemeal, bolted-on armor plating, and had an improvised rocket launcher in its bed. Horizontal metal slats covered the windows, protecting the driver somewhat. Marcus opened fire on it a second later. Bullets snapped overhead as the other trucks shot back, circling the ship like sharks in the water, looking for a weak point to attack. The machine guns were no threat to the ship’s armored hull, but the rocket launcher was.

  “Take that thing out!” Marcus said, broadcasting the order to everyone that could hear.

  “I’m coming down!” Halifax said. He had a man-portable plasma carbine that would certainly do the job.

  “Negative!” Marcus shouted, flinching as bullets impacted the edge of the launch pad, spraying him with debris. “It’s too hot! Stand by!”