He laughed. It was a strange sound in the endless silence of the shuttle. He cocked his head. Why would his laugh sound strange? He rubbed his face, feeling oddly disconnected.
He was free. He owned a spaceship. He—
A klaxon began to wail. It startled Marten. For a wild moment, he thought that Lycon had survived and somehow tried to gain admittance back into the shuttle.
Marten studied the controls and froze in shock. He turned off the klaxon, knowing now why his laugh had sounded strange. The carbon-scrubbers were turned off. So his CO2 levels had been too high.
He adjusted the life-support controls as he berated himself for making such an elementary mistake. He couldn’t afford any mistakes out here and hope to keep his freedom. He had a spaceship, but if the Highborn found him, if Social Unity found him, they would take away his ship and his freedom.
How was he going to remain free? The space between Mercury, Venus, Earth and Mars—the Inner Planets—swarmed with the warships of both sides. His shuttle was effectively defenseless against any of them. He had to tiptoe. He had to remain hidden. He had to make clever choices if he was going to remain free.
For the next half hour, Marten’s fingers moved across the controls as he accessed information. He was in the void between Mercury and Venus, with a heading that would bring him to Earth if he initiated one-G acceleration and let the engines burn for… eleven more hours. The journey would take several weeks. During his computer search, he also discovered the whereabouts of three Doom Stars. He didn’t use the shuttle’s radar or teleoptic scopes, but had referenced computer data on known locations. After fifteen more minutes of computer exploration, he discovered the location and vectors of several SU spacecraft, the majority of them war vessels. Neither the Doom Stars nor the SU craft were in position to affect him presently.
That eased some of his tension. Yet he wondered how long it would be before Highborn command sent him a message. Somewhere in their computers, they must be tracking him. Probably, the ship was sending a friend-or-foe signal. He had to find it and then decide whether to shut if off or to leave it on.
Before Marten did that, however, he had to decide what to do with his freedom. He couldn’t just drift out here. He needed a plan, a master plan, and make his moves accordingly.
He had no desire to go to Earth. Nothing good awaited him there. As all Free Earth Corps volunteers had learned, Social Unity received updates on the FEC battle-rosters. In other words, if Political Harmony Corps captured him, he would be treated as a traitor to Social Unity. Likely, the Thought Police would shoot him in the back of the head and dump his corpse in a mass grave.
Factoring in his present heading and velocity, it would take massive amounts of fuel to brake and redirect his spaceship to Venus. The majority of Venus was still in Social Unity’s hands, but the Highborn had bombarded and laid siege to the planet with a Doom Star, space platforms and orbital fighters. Even if he had the fuel to redirect his flight to Venus, there was little incentive to do so. What held true for Venus in terms of fuel was even truer for Mercury. Besides, the Highborn controlled Mercury. The planet and the Sun-Works Factory that circled it comprised the bastion of Highborn power.
Marten stretched his lower back. He had to sit on the edge of the pilot’s chair to use the control panel, because like everything else in the shuttle, it was sized for a Highborn. It made him feel childlike, and he found that annoying.
He continued to study the data. It was possible he might dock at one of the many open habitats orbiting Earth. The situation there was tenuous, however. At the various Lagrange-points were massive farm habitats. They helped feed Earth’s billions. The Highborn could storm each habitat and cut off some of the planet’s food supply. Or they could beam the laser-launch sites on Earth that propelled the food ships into orbit. Maybe they hadn’t tried yet because it would prove too costly in Highborn casualties storming the habitats. Maybe the Highborn wanted the Earth intact, to use it later as a base for the further conquest of the Solar System. Mass starvation might cause catastrophic destruction of a future industrial basin.
Because of the open policy concerning the farm habitats, it might be possible for him to slip into obscurity there.
Marten checked on the air-mixture as he considered the possibility.
Slipping onto one of the farm habitats could benefit Omi. Omi might need greater medical attention. Their present heading would take them to Earth orbit and that rather quickly. Marten knew Earth customs and could probably blend in more easily there than anywhere else in the solar system.
Marten studied the fuel situation as he plotted possible course headings to Mars and then to Jupiter. It wasn’t simply a matter of distance. It was where in their orbit around the Sun each planet would be when his shuttle reached the needed distance. It soon became clear that Jupiter was too far. He couldn’t actually land on Jupiter, but could head for one of the many moon colonies or cloud cities that orbited the gas giant.
Dejected, Marten slouched in his seat. It had always been his long-term plan to escape to the Jupiter Confederation. He wondered if Nadia Pravda had made it to the emergency pod. If so, her destination would be Jupiter.
Marten grinned at the prospect of holding Nadia again, of kissing her. He wanted to go to Jupiter. He wanted Nadia. Maybe he even needed her. But Jupiter was out presently as a reasonable possibility. That left Mars. He remembered rumors about a rebellion there.
There was a red light blinking on the control panel. Marten’s heart sped up as he tapped keys. Something was wrong in the medical unit.
Marten unbuckled and leaped for the hatch. He sailed too fast and bumped his head. Muttering, practicing greater control, he floated through the hatch and pushed toward the medical chamber. A light was blinking on the life-support monitor.
Marten felt queasy. He wasn’t a doctor. In the clear cylinder, Omi twitched and his features had become blue.
“Don’t die,” Marten whispered. He checked the monitor. It was the air-mixture. There was far too much carbon dioxide in the cylinder. He realized that he’d adjusted for the ship, but the controls on Omi’s system were still recycling the badly-mixed air.
Marten used the emergency release handle. The hatch hissed. Marten swung the hatch open.
His friend stopped twitching and the blueness faded from his skin. After a minute, Marten slid Omi back into the cylinder. He stood and watched for a half-hour.
Then he returned to the oversized pilot’s chair. He had to decide where to go. Before he could, he needed to know more about Mars. He studied the computer files until he found and read HB intelligence reports on the Red Planet. The information surprised him.
Mars had rebelled against its Social Unity garrisons. A single Doom Star had orbited Mars as the Highborn exterminated SU military personnel on the habitats and on the two moons. According to what Marten read, many SU personnel had escaped onto the surface. In other words, part of Mars belonged to Social Unity and the rest was in Rebel hands. The Doom Star had then departed the Mars System. As their last act, they’d installed the Rebels in the surviving orbital military installations.
Marten tapped at the console. The Highborn had left the Rebels, the Mars Planetary Union as they called themselves, in control of near orbital space. The Martians were separate from the Highborn and separate from Social Unity. Might the Mars Planetary Union welcome an ex-military man? Might they greet with open arms an independent captain owning a shuttle?
Marten rechecked the computer. An hour later, he hooked a line to the latch outside the airlock. Marten wore a vacc-suit, with a toolkit on his belt. He floated as stars shined all around him. Behind him, the Sun blazed. Marten magnetized his boots and clanked along the shuttle’s hull. Soon, he reached the friend-or-foe device. He knelt and extracted a wrench from his kit. For the next twenty minutes, he loosened bolts. It brought back fond memories of working with Nadia on the repair pod.
Finally, he detached the unit. He pulled so it floated upward.
Then he crouched under it and heaved with all his strength. The friend-or-foe device sailed away into the void.
Let the Highborn monitor that on their computers.
Grinning within his vacc-suit, Marten began clanking back to the airlock. He coiled the safety line as he did so. Once at the airlock, he pressed the switch. But nothing happened. The outer hatch remained shut.
Marten frowned, and tried again. Again, nothing happened. He blinked in growing concerning. Then it hit him. He’d never operated many Highborn-built spaceships. Was this a different design from the ships he’d used while growing up around the Mercury Factory? Maybe it was a Highborn security device, an airlock that couldn’t be opened from the outside.
Marten banged on the hatch. After several blows, he realized that would do nothing at all. Omi was in the medical unit. He was stuck out here in space, with a limited air supply. He’d better think of something else fast.
Table of Contents
Bio-Weapon
(Book #2 of the Doom Star Series)
Neutraloids
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
Bionics
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
Shock troopers
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
Doom Star: Book 02 - Bio-Weapon Page 30