“Take them to the brig and get the doc to check them over,” said Norris. “And double the usual guard.”
“Aye-aye, sir,” said the marine lieutenant as four of his men entered the airlock. They handcuffed both Jacks and Fletcher and escorted them off the ship.
“Sub-Captain Poulson,” said Jacks as he passed by. “You just won’t die, will you?”
Before Chuck could think of a reply Jacks was jerked away by his guard. “Never mind,” said Jacks over his shoulder. “Till we meet again. And tell Dolly I said hello.”
“Till we meet again..?”
“Don’t worry,” said Burns. “Now the military have got their hands on him I doubt very much if he’ll be allowed to escape a second time.”
“Can I have that in writing?”
“You could try putting in a request,” said Burns.
“In triplicate,” said Penny. “No good if it isn’t in triplicate.”
“And there you have it,” said Burns.
A shower, a hot meal and two hours of frantic report writing later, Chuck, Penny and Larson found themselves sitting across the table from Burns, Norris and Tostig in the Temujin’s conference room.
“This meeting is now in session,” said Norris. “For your information, a full inquiry into the loss of the Artemis will be held on Phoenix Station on a date to be decided. For the time being we will concern ourselves with the events following Jacks’ commandeering of the vessel. Lieutenant Poulson, we’ve read your preliminary report. Is there anything else that you wish to add to your statement?”
“No sir. I don’t believe so.”
“Ensign Parker?”
“There’s not much to tell, sir. Once the Artemis had been taken over by Commodore Jacks–”
“Mister Jacks,” interrupted Tostig. “The man had been relieved of his rank several months previously.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Once the Artemis had been taken over by Mr. Jacks, events were largely out of our control. I can only reiterate that if Bruno Tully hadn’t come to our aid, things might have turned out very differently.”
“And have you any idea what prompted Tully to change his allegiance?”
“I can’t say for sure, sir. Only that he believed it was the correct thing to do.”
“And when the escape pod had been repaired he volunteered to stay behind?”
“Yes, sir. He was most insistent even though he must have known that there would be no possibility of him surviving. He stayed at his post until the comet had been deflected onto a safe trajectory. By that time we had been picked up by Mr. Larson in the Reaper. We attempted a rescue mission but by the time we arrived in the vicinity the Artemis had already descended into Lyra’s troposphere and disintegrated.”
“Perhaps he saw the opportunity to take the easy way out,” said Tostig. “He would have been facing some serious charges had he returned. Very serious indeed.”
“Indeed,” said Norris. “But I see no need to trample on a dead man’s grave. I suggest we allow the record show that he sacrificed himself for the greater good. The colony on Lyra was saved. Are we in agreement?”
“Agreed,” said Tostig.
“And, by the way,” said Norris. “We have received word from the colony’s administrator.”
“By way of thanks?”
“Not exactly,” said Norris twisting irritably in his chair. “He attributes the colony’s salvation to the power of prayer. Apparently the Artemis and Mr. Tully were but instruments of the almighty and mere agents in his plan. That’s ‘almighty’ with a capital ‘A’ and ‘his’ with a capital ‘H’. He went on to say that the Artemis and Tully were testaments to his – this time with a small ‘H’ – infinite power and their loss an exaltation to his glory. I’m not sure if that last sentence makes any sense, but what they were very clear about was a request for us to depart the system at the earliest opportunity and leave them to their contemplations.”
“There’s appreciation for you,” said Penny. “Don’t they have a parable about gratitude in their holy book?”
“It would seem not,” said Norris.
“In any event,” said Larson. “If there are no objections I’d like to get underway without delay. It’s clear that Jacks over-boosted the Reaper’s warp core to get her here as fast as he did. I’m not sure what other damage he might have done but I’d like to get my ship into space dock and have her checked over at the earliest opportunity.”
“I don’t see any reason to deny your request, Mr. Larson, but I’m afraid we can’t let you depart with the military hardware presently stored in your cargo bay. I’ve no idea where Jacks got it all from but wherever it was it will need to be returned.”
“I expected as much,” said Larson. “I’ll dock at the Temujin’s cargo hatch before departure.”
“Agreed,” said Norris. “Do you have anything to add, Chief Inspector?”
“Only that we’ll probably need you to take the stand at some point, Mr. Larson.”
“So long as it’s by video feed. I don’t plan on going back to Atlas anytime soon.”
“I’m sure that could be arranged,” said Burns.
“Fine,” said Larson. “When the time comes, TacNet will know how to find me. Oh, and there is one other thing.” He passed a small leather bound book over to DCI Burns. “I found this in my cabin. Jacks kept a journal. I think you’ll find it interesting reading, especially the parts where he describes the murders of Admiral Giles and Judge Basham. I’m no lawyer but I’d say it’ll come in handy in court.”
“What elegant handwriting,” said Burns, flicking through the pages. “Excellent prose, too. Probably the most eloquent confession I have ever seen. Thank you, Mr. Larson. This will indeed prove useful.”
“Any other questions?” asked Norris. Burns and Tostig shook their heads. “In that case these proceedings are at a close. Mr. Larson, you are free to leave at your convenience. Commander Tostig?”
‘Yes, sir.”
“Prepare the Temujin for departure and plot a course for Atlas. We’ll set sail just as soon as the Reaper’s cargo has been transferred.”
“That’s the lot,” said the Temujin’s quartermaster as one of his crewmen wheeled the last crate of plasma rifles from the Reaper’s cargo bay. “Do you need a receipt?”
“Oh, yes,” said Larson. “I think we’d best do everything by the book.”
“Don’t you trust us, then?”
“The military? Not one jot.”
“Don’t blame you,” said the quartermaster, ripping the top sheet from his pad and passing it across. “Sixteen crates of Enfield Mk7 plasma rifles, twelve cases of XL50 hand guns, four Boxer rotary laser cannons, twenty four Napier missiles and a pair of Vixen point defense systems. All topped off with three dozen boxes of grenades and seventy two crates of assorted ammunition.”
“I thought there were more plasma rifles than that.”
“Count ‘em up for yourself if you don’t believe me,” said the quartermaster.
“Nah, I think I can trust you,” said Larson, pocketing the docket. “Well, I guess it’s time I was out of here. I need to find a new cargo and start earning some money. Have a safe journey home, now.”
“You too,” said the quartermaster.
Not quite sure where home is anymore, thought Larson. Apart from here on the Reaper, of course. He sealed the cargo bay, made his way up to the flight deck and settled down in the pilot’s chair. Safe once more in familiar surroundings he let his hands drift over the various controls. Yes, he was indeed home.
“Reaper to Temujin. The ship is closed up and I’m ready to depart. Request clearance to disengage docking clamps and egress to starboard.”
“Affirmative, Reaper. Clearance granted.”
As soon as the clamps disengaged, Larson gave the lateral thrusters a couple of short bursts, the reaction pushing him gently away from the frigate’s side. Once at a safe distance, he engaged the main engines, powered ahead of the Temujin and then b
anked away to starboard. A minute later, all that could be seen was the glow of his exhausts as he disappeared into the darkness.
Larson let the Reaper continue on its course for a while, all the time checking and rechecking the engine readouts. The foray into Lyra’s upper atmosphere didn’t seem to have done any lasting damage but he’d book the Reaper into a repair yard nevertheless. The only decision he had to make was where. Certainly not Atlas, not Earth, not Rubicon; he’d stay well away from the first worlds for the time being. Calling up the nav console he ran his eyes down the list of second world colonies. There, Picus. That would do nicely.
He fed the co-ordinates into the nav-computer and hit the button. The Reaper lurched slightly as she made the transition, the stars ahead winking out to be replaced by the pasty, blue-grey fog of super-space.
It would take twelve hours to reach Picus; time enough to put his cabin in order and start planning his next move. But there was one more job that he had to attend to.
Descending the stairs to the lower deck he made his through the cargo bay, past the water tanks and into the engineering compartments located in the aft section of the ship. Adjacent to the reactor room was a small compartment with a bright yellow radiation warning sign on the door. There was another, even larger sign on the inside, just in case anyone failed to get the message. Most took the hint and didn’t hang around, for it was written into most people’s psyche – ‘Do not, in any circumstances, get your DNA annihilated by high energy sub atomic particles’. In any case, there was little of note inside the compartment; just a bunch of pipe-work relating to the cooling system and a bank of gauges on the far wall – nothing that would cause anyone to loiter.
However, what the compartment did contain was a secret entrance to an even more secret space sandwiched between the main reactor and the hull. Larson thumbed a switch on his data pad and a panel in the wall cracked open to reveal a narrow, two by three meter compartment beyond. Several cases of Enfield Mk7 plasma rifles and XL50 handguns were stacked up at one end, the rest of the space being taken up by a fold down bunk upon which sat Bruno Tully.
“Have a pleasant stay?” said Larson
“I guess it could have been worse,” said Bruno.
“Of course it could. I mean, look – all mod cons. A comfortable bunk and even an ablutions unit set in the wall. Think yourself lucky – the last occupant was stuck in here for a week.”
“Who was that?”
“I’m not entirely sure,” said Larson. “Someone on the run from the law, I imagine. The Delph wanted him smuggled out of the system and I charge very reasonable rates. Of course, I don’t normally use this space for live cargo – it’s more for specialty items.”
“Like Mk7 plasma rifles?”
“Oh, these,” said Larson absently. “I wondered where I’d put them.”
“Are you sure it’s safe in here?” asked Bruno, nodding at the radiation sign.
“It’s just for show. Nothing can get past the reactor shielding. Well, probably not. If it did, the whole ship would be contaminated. However, I do have a little gizmo that can release a little low level radiation into the compartment – just in case anyone comes snooping around. That’s how that guy ended up in here for a week. I got boarded and then impounded while the authorities went over the ship with a fine toothcomb. Luckily, the sign and a few thorium nuclei did their job. They never did find him, though to be truthful he was ever so slightly crazed by the time I let him out. He didn’t smell too good, either.”
“No, I can imagine,” said Bruno, looking around at the cramped, windowless surroundings. “So what now?”
“First things first. I’m headed to Picus to get the Reaper checked out. Apart from that trip into Lyra’s atmosphere I don’t know what Jacks did to her on the run from Grenedal to Arcadia.”
“I can give you the answer to that one – we ran the warp core at 110% for a while. Jacks said the Reaper had an upgraded version of the Rapier hyper-drive and could take the strain without any trouble.”
“He knew about that, did he?”
“Yes,” said Bruno. “He’s no fool.”
“Maybe, but right now he’s sitting in the brig on the Temujin while you have the universe at your fingertips. So who’s the bigger fool?”
“Good point,” allowed Bruno.
“So, do you have any idea where you want to go? I’ll be heading out towards the fringe worlds after we’re finished on Picus. I could take you back to Charnak 3 if you like.”
“Not quite what I had in mind,” said Bruno.
“Had enough of mining?”
“Something like that. I think it’s time I tried to make a go of things. Get my life back on track. There’s more to it than booze and bulldozer racing. Jacks taught me that much at least.”
“In that case I have a proposition for you,” said Larson seriously, “I could use an extra hand aboard the Reaper. She’s too big a ship for one person to handle and from what I saw at Lyra you know her systems well enough. Pay won’t be great until we get some new work lined up but the offer’s there if you want it. It’s up to you.”
“I accept,” said Bruno without preamble. After five years in a military prison, another three in a drunken stupor and several weeks in the company of a megalomaniac, the decision was one of the easiest of his life. He stood and offered his hand.
“Good,” said Larson, shaking the proffered hand. “That’s settled then.”
“Providing, of course, that I don’t have to stay in here the whole time.”
“You got it,” said Larson. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up. I’m afraid most of your belongings were taken off by the authorities. I think they were going to try and pass them on to your next of kin.”
“They won’t find any,” said Bruno bluntly.
“Well… you can get whatever you need on Picus. You can pay me back when we start earning some money.”
“Thanks. And by the way,” said Bruno as he followed Larson forward. “Before Jacks got sidetracked by the Artemis we had a contract lined up in the Texiera system.”
“You did? What kind of work?”
“Riding shotgun for rhodium convoys. Steady work and by all accounts pretty good pay.”
“Texiera, you say? That’s pretty far off the beaten track.” said Larson. “Far enough that no-one will have heard of either of us. Sounds good to me.”
* * *
Six weeks later…
Phoenix Station, Atlas System
“This court of enquiry is now in session,” said Admiral Bradbury once he and his fellow officers were seated. Along with Bradbury were Captain Norris, a commodore from the Fleet Science Directorate and an executive from the Titan Corporation.
“We have considered the testimonies presented to us during the course of this enquiry and after due deliberation have arrived at the following conclusions.
“It is the opinion of this court that the science vessel Artemis was lost as a direct result of an act of piracy committed by Ex-Commodore Jacks and his crew.
“Although the Artemis was able to complete its primary mission, its functionality was compromised after being deprived of power and it’s resident artificial intelligence. The inevitable result was that the Artemis succumbed to the pull of Lyra’s gravity and subsequently burned up in the planet’s atmosphere, regrettably with the loss of one life.
“This court exonerates Lieutenant Commander Savage from any blame regarding the incident. Faced with the impossible task of completing his primary mission whilst at the same time attempting to counter enemy forces that he was in no position to either engage or outrun, he carried out his duties with pragmatism and dedication. Under great stress, his command decisions ultimately led to the salvation of the colony on Lyra.
“The colony owes a deep debt of gratitude the crew of the Artemis and in particular Lieutenant Poulson and Ensign Parker, who displayed extreme valour in the face of grave danger. This court commends them both for their exemplary fortitude,
skill and tenacity.
“The court also recognises the role played by Sigmund Larson for his co-operation in the recapture of Jacks, and also that of Bruno Tully, whose self sacrifice was paramount in bringing the mission to a successful conclusion.
“In the light of events in the Arcadia system, this court acknowledges the necessity for a dedicated asteroid deflection platform and recommends that a replacement unit be ordered at the earliest opportunity. The court further recommends that future vessels of this type should be adequately defended, both by an onboard military complement and an escort vessel in attendance.
“We thank those involved in this investigation for their clear and concise testimony. Personnel directly involved in the incident will have their service records amended accordingly and are now released to normal duty.
“These proceedings are closed.”
Everyone stood in silence as Admiral Bradbury and the panel of officers rose and filed out of the room one by one; a silence that lasted only as long as it took for the door to close behind them.
“Well, that’s that, then,” said James, rubbing his hands together. “A good and fair result, I’d say.”
“I don’t think there was any other way it could have gone,” said Penny.
“I’m not so sure,” said Chuck. “Was I the only one expecting them to hang us all out to dry?”
“Not entirely,” said Savage. “I rather imagined they’d drum me out of the service – or at the very least, demand my resignation. As it is, I’m informed I will simply not be in command of Artemis II.”
“Oh, bad luck,” said Penny.
“Not at all,” said Savage. “It makes perfect sense to have an experienced line officer in charge of the day to day running of such a valuable asset. Actually, now that the enquiry has been concluded I have a small secret that I can share with you. I’m returning to the Criterion shipyards to oversee the construction of Artemis II. Most of the hull is of modular construction so we’re looking at a launch date of about six months from now. And after that it’s just a matter of installing a new rail gun and laser array. After commissioning I’ll be taking up the post of Chief Science Officer.”
The Blunt End of Oblivion (The Blunt End Series, Book 2) Page 34