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Daedalus (Interstellar Cargo Book 2)

Page 25

by Matt Verish


  The relief of pressure upon his legs and body was unexpected, but the sudden lack of gravity meant that the Terracom station was close to destruction. That, coupled with the uncertainty of whether or not the collider could explode at any second, put him directly into his Corner.

  He reengaged all of his EVA suit’s thrusters, deciding now was the time to flaunt his navigational skills in zero G. He started by crashing into the nearest wall. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs. After a few quick, minor adjustments, he was piloting through the interior of the crumbling Terracom Interdimensional Gateway Station.

  “Lin! I’m coming!”

  There was a massive explosion from somewhere behind him, and he didn’t need to look to know that the bombardment had finally penetrated the station. The venting of atmosphere would be next to go, and he hoped to reach the Icarus before the vacuum reached him.

  “...dock’s stability is compromised,” came the second half of Lin’s sentence. “We have to depart.”

  Not good. “Nearly there,” he responded. He was close to the landing bay, but if Lin and Rig were forced to take off before he got there, boarding the ship would prove difficult. Fuel indicators on his suit’s thrusters read much lower than he liked as he zipped through the last leg of hallways leading to the dock.

  Upon entering the bay, he saw the Icarus hovering above the dock. He was curious if it was Lin who had engaged the ship’s controls, but an intense metallurgical groaning penetrated his suit’s helmet, distracting him. It was followed by silence. He saw an entire wall of the station’s exterior tear away like paper. Everything within the area was sucked out in a blink. Him included.

  His world spun as he was jettisoned into his worst nightmare. He was one of the many small chunks of the station speeding away from the collapsing center. He glimpsed the Icarus, though it was impossible to tell if it was still intact. It was close enough that he might be able to thrust his way to it.

  A projectile rocketed past his head as his used precious fuel to right his spinning body. Only after he saw the nuke did he finally notice the armada of Military ships encircling the station. He would not only have to navigate the spread of shrapnel but also the incoming fire and hope his intended target survived as well. Can’t worry about that now.

  “Lin!” he called, hoping—even praying—she was still alive. “I’m coming straight for you. Leave the light on for me.”

  No response.

  Firing all thrusters on maximum, Cole rolled the dice on his biggest gamble yet. There was no time to calculate his trajectory or factor his dwindling fuel to make the distance. It was literally a leap of faith.

  The thrusters burned out quicker than he had anticipated, though his momentum was substantial. Like a human missile, he sought out the Icarus for impact. Pieces of debris passed all around him, and a crate actually clipped the back of his helmet. None of it impaired his progress, though he realized his aim had been ever-so-slightly off He would sail right over top of the ship.

  Without his thrusters to manipulate his position, he had to angle his body. About a hundred yards or so before all hope was a lost, he directed his feet toward the ship’s hull and increased the magnetic field of his boots to maximum. The effect was immediate, and he felt his legs racing toward the chrome surface. The force of the draw was significant, and his speed increased at an alarming rate. I hope the impact doesn’t break my—

  Pain lanced through Cole’s legs and spine as he stuck his landing like an knife lodging into a table. Even his teeth rattled. The suit had protected him from the brunt of the impact, though his bad knee was a different story. The excruciating affliction vanished into the background when the Icarus began to pilot away without him at the controls.

  His magboots held, though he had to stoop down to avoid the debris that could knock him off or cut him in two. Flying outside the ship was as exciting as it was terrifying. He hadn’t the slightest clue if whoever was at the controls knew he was clinging to the hull for dear life. Regardless, he was to be heading as far away from the Terracom station as fast as possible. There was no telling when—

  BOOM!

  A blinding blue flash illuminated the entire solar system and then disappeared. There was no actual sound, but the force of the explosion followed the Icarus as it bolted from the fray. Even with his magboots set to maximum, Cole wondered if the cataclysmic vibrations would loosen his connection. For now, they held, though he looked back in awe and horror as the warships they had passed succumbed to the blast. How soon the destructive shockwave would reach them was anyone’s guess.

  As each tense second passed without incident, Cole felt the threat diminish. Through it all, he had not been able to wrench his gaze from the obliterated station. All that remained was the mysterious glowing field of energy at its center. He would never learn what it was Terracom had been trying to accomplish—would never understand how it was Emmerich had miraculously resurrected herself. He did know that she had died after saving his life; all his efforts to rescue her had been in vain.

  Now they were a crew of three, riding the wings of the Icarus toward an uncertain future. His friend was dead. His mother was dead. His brother was dead. Emmerich was dead. CAIN was dead. There was even a good chance that Admiral Arturo Preston had died in the explosion. And as Cole watched one of the cargo vessel’s engines fizzle from structural damage, he was fairly certain they would soon follow suit.

  Most of the Starforce fleet had been demolished by the collider explosion, though those who survived would soon regroup and chart a course straight for the stranded Icarus. Cole didn’t really care; He was tired of running. Perhaps it was time to face judgment, though he knew one thing for certain.

  All of this would be pinned on him.

  ICARUS LOG 004:

  Yep, it’s me again. I felt the need to document my last moments of freedom before we’re all subjected to the whims of our lovely government. First off, I have to admit that I’m pretty damn proud of Rig for jumping into my flight chair and literally winging the Icarus to safety—even if it was for a grand total of fifteen minutes. I didn’t know the big guy had it in him. He must be hiding a secret—a past life he has yet to reveal. I’ll probably never find out what it is, so there’s no need to waste time wondering.

  Second, I think it necessary to acknowledge the elephant in the room: Lin. I haven’t spoke to her about what she did. Ever since I discovered she sabotaged her Colossus collider, I’ve been more than a little disturbed. While I can understand her need to stick it to Terracom one last time, I can’t condone her complete and utter disregard for human life. As far as I can tell, no one aboard that gateway station made it out alive. That’s not the woman I know. The Doc I’ve come to care about turned her back on a father with such brutal intentions. Shit, even Chrys came to her senses after I showed her the light. But this... This. I don’t know what to think. Maybe it’s best I don’t think about it. Besides, I’m more of a do-er.

  And as far as what we can do about our futures, I’m fresh out of ideas. A part of me is intrigued by the prospect of becoming the System’s most reviled citizen. Should make for some entertaining television. I’ll make damn sure that happens. But I’m mostly concerned about what will become of Lin and Rig. Their involvement can’t be overlooked, but I don’t feel they deserve to face punishment. I consider them unwilling participants, and they should be treated as such. I doubt there’s anything I can do to help their cause, but I’ll try and cross that bridge when I get to it. If there ever is a bridge presented me.

  Speaking of bridges, I can’t help but think Terracom was building one of their own into that giant ball of light. I have no evidence to prove they were doing anything of the sort, but I like to trust my gut. Mitchum and company weren’t exacting coercive persuasion as Mom and Chrys came to believe, but they were doing something. If this boat still had two functioning engines, I would have already flown us into the eye of the storm to find out. Who knows? I may yet get that chance.
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br />   Because it’s still there.

  Click here to find out what happens next in the Interstellar Cargo series.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As with any novel, the person who writes it is only one of an orchestra of talented individuals to bring the finished product to fruition. I would like to properly thank them for all their diligence and hard work. Without them, my series would be a mere shadow of itself. I am forever grateful for everyone’s contribution.

  First and foremost, I must once again thank my beautiful wife, Stefanie. My muse. My everything. Her very presence is an inspiration, and she continues to champion my little writing endeavor. Her insight and sometimes brutal honesty keeps me on my toes. I can’t thank you enough, Babe. I love you.

  Mom and Dad. Your undying love and support continues to carry me through this thing called life. Your willingness to pimp my brand to any and all who cross your path honors me. That you actually like my writing also helps. I love you both.

  To my ARC/proofreading crew: Richard, Brian, Ray, and Cari. Thank you for always taking time to look over my unpolished manuscripts. You all play a pivotal role in the publishing process.

  My social media family: Patrick, Megg, Dan, Colin and Colin, Nick, Jeff, Annie, Amy, Michelle, Susan, Mike, and Zach. You all possess a wealth of knowledge regarding the ever-changing world of independent publishing, and I thank you for all being so willing to share it with me.

  And to Tom, Shawn, and Kevin. Tom created another spectacular cover, Shawn designed another professional interior for the paperback, and Kevin produced the wonderful audiobook. The three of you represent the final polish needed before entering the showroom.

  Finally, to all of my wonderful readers. Thanks again for taking the journey into the stars. I hope you’re ready for some more Musgrave shenanigans.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Matt Verish is a speculative fiction author who has been writing stories since the fourth grade. He realized his desire to become an author when he met his wife, Stefanie, in the autumn of 1997. They kept in constant contact while Stefanie was away at college, and it was through email that they planted the seeds of their epic fantasy world, Secramore. Eventually they became M.S. Verish, and they have been writing books as married co-authors ever since. Matt is a John Carpenter film buff, lover of all things nature, hopelessly behind on his reading, collector of his wife’s artwork, and a thrash metal music connoisseur. Icarus is his first full-length solo project.

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