Beyond the Starport Adventure (Bullet Book 1)

by Richard Fairbairn

  “What the Hell is all this?”

  Styles turned to look at the astronaut. He opened his mouth to speak, but then he closed it again. He glanced across to the tall blonde. Her face was a mixture of awe, surprise and confusion. Aldridge watched as Styles winked at her, slowly and clearly.

  “This is just freaking insane!” she said, laughing.

  Styles kept staring at her. She stared back. Their eyes were locked together for an eternity. He might have nodded his head, but Aldridge wasn’t sure if she was seeing things.

  “You really know how to show a girl a good time,” she said.

  The right corner of Styles' mouth moved upwards just slightly.

  “Yep,” he breathed.

  ONE

  2125AD – The Enrilean Throne World.

  “I was surprised that you didn’t make a run for it,” Jaxx said, “Last night, at the Keeley, it was all I could think about when I saw you. In fact, I was waiting for you to make a move. A part of me still is.”

  Dawn had been encroaching on the scene for the past twenty minutes. The stars were now barely visible in cold, morning sky. There were no clouds to cover them, just the faint haze of mist that perpetually hung over the village at the late time of the year. The bright, Apex star was still clearly visible, along with most of the stars that formed the constellation known, for 30,000 years, as the arrow. Apex would shine faintly for most of the day at this time of year, if not all. It was quite cold in the Kirk yard, but the Keeper had turned the oil burners on in the Kirk itself at the usual time.

  “I’d miss my shot at transcendence,” Vaminn spoke uncertainly, after a long and thoughtful pause he added, “I don’t mind being judged.”

  “You’ve already been judged, Keer. But it’s not too late. You can still run. I’ll help you. I have access to the Justice Four’s tactical station. I can let you know when it’s safe to leave the system. I can get you out. You could stow away on a freighter and hide out on Ellasam, or the Jallyme colonies.”

  “Haz,” Keer Vaminn touched his friend’s shoulder, “I know what you think about all this. I’m old enough to make my own choices and I know what I want to do. Please, let me enjoy my deluded fantasy of there being an honourable afterlife waiting for me.”

  Hazer Jaxx nodded sombrely. He didn’t say any more. He wanted to, but with an effort he managed to stay quiet. He reached his left arm around Vaminn’s shoulder and pulled the shorter man towards him. Vaminn continued to smile, but he shivered nervously as Jaxx held him.

  “You’ve always been my best friend,” Jaxx said, “You always will be. No matter what you’ve done and no matter where we both end up. Nothing would ever change that.”

  Jaxx offered his right hand. Vaminn clasped it tightly. Then the two young men held each other again. Vaminn closed his eyes, fighting back tears. But one or two squeezed through. Behind them both, the gallows creaked in the soft morning wind. Jaxx looked at the thick, black, rope. Then he looked back into his childhood hero’s watering eyes.

  “I’ll see you at the end of the arrow,” Jaxx said.

  “I’ll have a table prepared for you,” Vaminn replied, “But take your time getting to it, please. You have a lot of good life ahead of you Hazer. Don’t squander it the way I have done.”

  An hour passed. A small crowd assembled in the Kirk yard. The Keeper said a few words about the Crystal warrior, Crystarr, and the great purge of the weak. Words Jaxx had heard a thousand times before. The dead girl’s mother moaned, shouted and spat until her murderer swung at the end of the rope. Vaminn’s right hand reflexively floundered in the direction of the knot that had broken his neck, which now was bent at an impossible angle. After thirty seconds the arm relaxed and slid quietly down to his side. His feet twitched a little in the weighted boots Jaxx had loaned him. Vaminn's personalised Quartermaster revolver remained attached to its holster by his right hip. He'd made no attempt to reach the loaded weapon throughout his execution.

  Vaminn’s body would stay in the Kirk yard until the next service in a week's time. It was unlikely that there would be a repeat of today’s hanging. Keer was the first person in the village to have been executed this way in five years. Jaxx realized that he was standing alone in the Kirk yard, staring at his dead friend’s face. He wasn’t really sure what he felt about it all, but he hoped that Vaminn was right about transcendence.

  “Your friend must be very proud of you,” a strange voice sounded, “It must have been very difficult to be present during his passing and not raise a hand to interfere.”

  He was preparing his answer as he turned to face the source of the voice, but what he saw made the words catch in his throat. The woman was obviously not from the local area, or from any region he was aware of. Her hair, to begin with, shone in the midday sun like strands of gold and orange. Almost like it was aflame. It seemed to have a life of its own and drifted around her face, carried by the gentle breezes that played around the ancient tombstones and the weather-beaten gallows. He’d never seen it’s like before and this alone made him stare in wonder for a moment. Most Enrilean women did not hold themselves with the same confidence and flair that this tall, elegant female did. Everything about her was out of place.

  “It… was very difficult. You’re correct,” he smiled the dark, humourless smile of someone who did not appreciate the joke being told, “What are you supposed to be? Is the circus in town?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The colour of your hair. Your attire. The paleness of your skin. What are you supposed to be? You do realize that this is Sumday?”

  “Of course I do,” she said, “This is my natural hair colour, thank you.”

  “Then you are not from this world,” Jaxx concluded, “You are an emissary from Relathon?”

  Her emerald eyes stared blankly at him. She smiled a sad half smile and seemed distracted by the swinging corpse behind the handsome young space pilot. Jaxx didn’t realise how deeply she was examining him. He was continuing to study everything about her, trying to match the strange apparition with anything he could comprehend. This creature certainly did not hail from Enrilean soil.

  “Not really,” she said, “I’m just passing through. Enjoying the sights. The Apex is shining brightly today,” she said, “Do you think your friend made it there?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Do you think he transcended?” she said. He felt her watching his face carefully, “He seemed to think that he would.”

  He was angry. Regardless of his own beliefs, he did not want to hear the faith that his father had adhered to criticised here and now. In the strange woman's quiet insolence he could see that she was a strong disbeliever of the old ways. It didn't matter to Jaxx that he distrusted the religious dogma that he'd been subjected to his whole life. Right now, all that mattered was the infuriating smugness of this smirking creature's face.

  “It’s blasphemy to suggest anything even remotely otherwise,” he grunted quickly, “Of course he thought he would transcend. Otherwise he would have…”

  “Tried to escape? Made a run for it?” she said quickly, “Like you wanted him to?”

  He smiled with his mouth, but his eyes were dark and furious. He took a deep breath and shook his head slowly. He started to turn away from the strange young woman. He decided that she was obviously some kind of travelling lunatic. He didn't have the time or the patience to listen to any more.

  Her next question stopped him in his tracks.

  “Do you think your space ships can take you to the end of the arrow?”

  “That’s a very strange question. You must know the answer to that already.”

  “I know there are no wormholes within 300 light years of the star.”

  His anger overwhelmed him. He wheeled round on his heel.

  “It’s much more than just a star,” Jaxx said roughly, “Transcending to the Apex is every Enrilean’s hope. It's the promise of the Gods, that someday we will join them in...”

  “Then
aren’t you happy for your friend?” Carol interrupted, “He awaits you there? Along with your father? Your mother? Everyone you care about? They’ll be waiting for you there, when you die too?”

  Jaxx's mask of politeness was now completely lifted. He was tired of playing this game. There was something wrong with this woman, and he was going to find out what it was. He moved closer to her, sensing her nervousness as his anger began to turn his stone features into a menacing snarl.

  “What are you doing here? Where did you come from?”

  “Don’t I have a right to be here, in a Kirk? Isn’t your world a free world?”

  “But you don’t belong here,” he said, twisting sideways on the bench to face her, “Your accent is very unusual. Tell me who you are and what you’re doing here.”

  “I’m a traveller, I suppose.”

  “A traveller?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where have you travelled from?”

  “I can’t tell you that,” she said, “That’s my secret.”

  “Your secret?”

  “One of my secrets,” her smile disappeared and her head had tilted downwards, “One of many, I suppose.”

  He reached out to touch her hair. The thin, curly locks fell through his fingers before she could pull her head away, which she did with a tutting sound.

  “That’s very impolite. You don’t have my permission to touch me. Don’t you have any manners?”

  “I’ve never seen an Enrilean with such hair. And your skin is so fair. Are you a… Relathon? One of the special envoys?”

  “I’m not a Relathon, envoy or otherwise. I’m a traveller and a businesswoman,” she thought for a moment, “I’m a very successful businesswoman.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a moment,” he smiled thinly, “But where do you come from?”

  “Somewhere far away. I’m sure you wouldn’t know it. Not yet, at least.”

  “I think I’d like to see your papers,” Hazer said. His eyes burned into Carol’s. She stared back at him coldly.

  “That’s disappointing,” she said, “But I have them here if you need to see them. Do you even have the authority to ask me for my papers?”

  “I have more than the authority I need, believe me,” his tone menaced icily, “But would you rather I put my hands around that elegant neck and squeezed your insolent breath out of you? Now, for the last time let me see your papers!”

  She reached into the bag by her hip. The bag was made of soft brown leather and looked very old. Her long fingers produced a familiar, laminated identity card.

  “Here,” she handed it to Jaxx. “I had no idea that my trip was going to be so… dramatic.”

  He took the card gently. He was a little surprised to see it. Her relaxed, emotionally void countenance surprised him too. He glanced dismissively at the card, not caring to read it. He had already decided that it was not genuine. He had already decided to arrest this stranger. The local enforcement centre would have a few things to say to her about her behaviour in the Kirk yard. And, if there was anything suspicious about her to be discovered, the enforcers would find it.

  “Where are you from?” he smiled, “I would like you to tell me.”

  Her smile was a false smile that died in her eyes, matching that of Hazer Jaxx. There was a curious sadness there too.

  “Somewhere far, far away.”

  “I don’t like answers like that,” he said coldly, “They mean nothing. According to your card you were born in Junnston. That’s under a hundred miles from the Imperial Capital. I know it well, as you can imagine. I can tell that you have never lived or even visited Junnston. I would guess that you can’t name the city’s chief enforcer?”

  Her eyes darkened slightly and she looked coldly back into Jaxx’s.

  “I can answer that,” said Carol Hayes, “I can answer that quite convincingly, but I am tired too. It was a long and dangerous journey coming here. I’ve come here just to see you and to better understand you. But our meeting will be ending soon and I don’t think I will have learned anything. But there are interesting things for me to tell you. Wouldn’t you like to know what the great and magnificent Arrow really points towards? Would you like to know what your Gods look like, or what their names are? Would you like to know why they really travelled so far, far away from their ancient home?”

  Her words hung in the Kirk yard. Jaxx felt like he would explode with rage. He’d never heard such blasphemy.

  “Are you some kind of mad person?” he asked, “You say such things here? While my closest friend dangles fit for nothing but the birds to peck his damt eyes away? I could break your neck right now and I’d be within my rights. How dare you…”

  “Do you want to know the answers?” she interrupted his rant, “I want you to know. The Gods did not leave their world of their own accord. Nor did they make any great judgements on Enrilea, Relathon or anyone else.”

  “I really do believe that you are insane,” Jaxx growled, “If you say another word I will put a very untidy hole in the middle of your head.”

  She reached her hand casually back into the bag by her right hip. There was something wrong with the set of her eyes, Jaxx thought. Instinctively, his left hand pinned her wrist to the heavily painted cross. He held her there, with a painfully tight grip, as his free hand pulled the handbag away from her. She gasped in surprise and he could see genuine fear in her eyes.

  “This isn’t a chance encounter. I’m also beginning to think that you are from Relathon. And I’m beginning to think that I’ll find a weapon inside this unusual bag of yours. I was happy to allow the enforcers to...”

  She moved in a swift blur of motion. He was caught off guard by the speed of her movement and wasn't sure if she slipped free or managed to somehow wrench free of his grip. As he wondered, she reached for the bag. He tossed it away in a reflex action. Something that resembled a handgun peeked out damningly from the ancient leather bag. Jaxx produced his own weapon from beneath his tunic – a four shot revolver he’d owned for a decade. He held the small gun in his right hand, pointed out towards the strange and dangerous woman. His left hand was held up, palm towards her.

  “If you move again, I promise it will be your final act on this world.”

  Carol Hayes didn’t move. She was looking at his dead friend. She stared blankly, ignoring Jaxx and his weapon. The dead man stared at her with a bored expression. A tear of blood trickled from his right eye halfway down his cheek. The flame haired woman sighed loudly, shaking her head.

  “I've had a few final acts in my time,” she stared at him, her expression almost as blank as poor Vammin's, “The crystal warriors,” she whispered, “They destroyed their own world to purify it and purge weakness from it,” she said matter of factly, “A race of sentient, omnipotent beings that suddenly decided to destroy themselves and their neighbours in the solar system. All on a whim.”

  He had the same thoughts. For as long as he could remember, he'd thought the religious teachings to be ridiculous. But in the wake of his best friend's execution, it was unbearable to hear his thoughts verbalised so accurately.

  “I’ll warn you not to say any more,” Hazer Jaxx said, “I’ve got a rather itchy feeling in my index finger and I’m pretty sure that…”

  “Don’t you want to know how wrong you’ve been about everything?” she almost shrieked, “Could you even bear to know?”

  Jaxx brought the heavy grip of his pistol down towards the stranger's face. The young woman dodged to the left away from the pistol and Jaxx knew he'd made a mistake. He was off balance and had suddenly lost the advantage. No more games. He moved his weight away from the strange woman and brought the gun up to shoot her. Before he realised what was happening, two slender arms pushed away the pistol and shoved hard against his chest. The force sent him flying towards the cross. He still had the gun in his hand. His back slammed into the dark wood, the back of his head thudding hard against the as he rolled into a combat stance – most of his weight on his
front knee and the handgun thrust outwards, his left hand steadying the hand that held the gun. He fired the gun.

  Carol Hayes was running for her handbag and the fallen 2008 Walther PPS 9 millimetre automatic pistol. As she reached it, Hazer Jaxx’s first bullet tore into her back just below her left shoulder. She felt the impact, like someone had punched her hard just below her shoulderblade. She kept running, grabbing the handbag with her right hand and scrambling for the pistol as Jaxx’s second bullet hammered against the recently restored Kirk wall, losing itself in the still hardening stonework.

  Everything was going wrong. She now had the gun in her right hand as the handbag was falling to the ground. Jaxx had fired his third bullet. She hadn’t felt this one, but it had hit her just above her pelvis, tearing through her left kidney and her stomach before exiting to bury itself in the blood spattered white double doors.

  The pain was phenomenal – unlike anything she’d experienced before. She couldn’t ignore it or switch it off. She felt panicked inside. Not only was Jaxx going to get away – he was going to kill her too. She ran headlong along the gravel through the cemetery towards the gate. She’d run ten metres when she heard Jaxx fire his fourth shot. It missed, she realised, but she knew that he was reloading the revolver.

  The pain radiating from her back made her want to scream out, but she held it inside. Or most of it. She levelled the loaded automatic pistol and aimed directly at Hazer Jaxx’s body. The intensity of the pain spoiled her aim, but the bullets stopped Jaxx in his tracks as they whizzed past, sending him ducking for cover behind one of the older, crumbling sandstone headpieces.

  She did not want to panic, but it was difficult not to. The gunshots had been loud enough to alert anyone nearby. She feared that others would come – perhaps friends of Jaxx’s staying in the village also. Armed and dangerous, like he was. She ran through the gate as Jaxx fired after her, his heavy calibre revolver cracking like thunder with each shot. She kept running, almost pushing over an old man who appeared to her left.