Living in Freefall (Living on the Run Book 1)

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Living in Freefall (Living on the Run Book 1) Page 11

by Ben Patterson


  Ericca glanced his way, then started to chuckle.

  “Found that funny, did you?”

  It seemed as if it was all Ericca could do to keep from laughing outright. Then, his own reflection in a polished wall plate told him what had tickled her so. He had synched the hood so quick and tight that the only thing that could be seen of his face were his eyes and nose. The hood’s purse string was tied in a cute little bow just under his beak.

  Embarrassed, Riley loosened the knot and shrugged. “Not one word, sis. Not one itty-bitty word!”

  They climbed from behind the conduits and continued on their way deeper into the ship.

  There was no clue given in Riley’s tone to Captain Kori that they had nearly been discovered a second time when Riley made use of the ship’s head.

  To go through difficulties like these only served to build strong bonds between Ericca and Riley. They grew to trust each other and rely on each other’s strengths, as well as recognize their own shortcomings. But the stories of these days would only be told when both were well into adulthood. No need to worry the Koris, nor encourage recklessness among their younger crew members. Riley knew being reckless was strictly his and her job.

  With all the skulking about now well behind them, he and his sister settled down for a long bout of boredom in Viper’s cramped cockpit. No more strolls along the starlit deck of the Prince Rutherford. No more dangerous journeys into its inner sanctum. Just one long stretch of time; filled with moment upon moment of nothing to do—that is nothing to do for him. Ericca had the foresight to bring star-charts to study.

  Look, this was supposed to have been a short, quick run. How was he to know that they would spend a lot of time visiting a Prince? What kind of a name was Rutherford anyway? Sounded snooty enough to glaze over the eyes of any school kid. Was that the plan in naming this ship? To bore the living daylights out of children who would otherwise occupy themselves with pranks and practical jokes of every sort? He could just picture a Confederate public school classroom—haggard, old matronly teacher and all. The image that popped into his head was of some shriveled up old prune trying to hold the attention of nine-year-olds. ‘This, children, is the Prince Rutherford’ . . . snore. Oh, yeah, that would work.

  What a snooze this trip turned out to be. Sheesh. A practical joke, a prank, something—anything—to break the monotony.

  Riley stared at Ericca’s head and wondered what would happen if he gave her hair a tug.

  “Bored, are you?”

  By her stern tone, Riley knew Ericca wasn’t asking a question. Her focus was on her book. How did she know what he was thinking? Was he that predictable?

  “Are we there, yet?” He reached up and tugged.

  “Don’t make me come back there.”

  He tugged again.

  “Archer – stop it!”

  What can she do, insist on the back seat? Big whoop. In reality, he had no idea as to how reckless he was actually being. He tugged again.

  Ericca raised her zip gun. “Oh, look. An ‘obliterate eyebrow,’ setting.” She turned and aimed the gun at his face. Her expression was sinister. “Shall we see if it works?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Mara, eyes still closed, sleepily reached for her husband. The sheets beside her were cold. She stretched to the bed’s edge and—as if the man could have shrunk somehow and was now merely hiding in the folds of the bedding—drew her hand up to the pillow and then back down as far as she was able. Even half-asleep she should have known better. Nevertheless at this early hour she thought that taking a chance, though slim, was rational.

  Fighting against what she wanted most, she peered out from beneath one heavy eyelid. As far as she could see she was alone. Then she remembered. She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, an empty ache in her chest. Her husband, Jordon Sr., was gone. Though it had been years, the hole his passing left was still there, still unfilled, still raw. She wasn’t the only one aboard Freefall with such a hurt though. Space was hell on families. It left too many children orphans. It left too many women widows. It left too many beds cold. But the Great Architect of everything wasn’t without compassion. People needing people somehow found each other despite the vastness of space. She didn’t want to think about it, or give such things much credence, but maybe there were real reasons Jordon Jr. found Ericca as he had. For nine years he had searched for the girl who occupied his every thought. For nine years Jordon pretended she was meant for him. What the girl once was, and what she had become, though, were polar opposites. And this version of Ericca Mara hated.

  Coffee, the aroma of an old and dear friend, floated into the room and called her by name, coaxing her to her feet. She drew a deep breath as if the fragrance alone might be enough to rouse her.

  She mumbled something—probably in response to her liquid friend, and in the fleeting moment that followed was sure that whatever she had said made perfect sense. But now, just a second later, she couldn’t even remember if what she had said was the least bit coherent in any language.

  But that delicious aroma of her buddy teasingly tugged at her to get up.

  Yet the bed, all warm and snug, had arguments of its own, which were to the contrary of those posed by Mr. Coffee. She listened and found its reasons to stay put were no less rational than those that would draw her to her feet. She hated to be caught in the middle as her good friends squabbled like this—both simultaneously insisting she decide in their favor. But which old friend meant more to her at present? It wasn’t going to be easy to make up her mind. Certainly she could enjoy the company of both, if only whoever was in the kitchen could just hear the bickering and come to her rescue. Coffee cups were mobile weren’t they?

  “Oh, well. Bye-bye, my friend. See you tonight.” She sat up, inhaled once more, and then plopped once again on the pillow. “Why hello, my love. My, my, is it nighttime already? Where has the day gone?”

  Ugh! This was just plain unfair—she hated sleeping alone. Though meager, it was the only argument she could offer herself under the circumstances. Hesitant, she inched nearer the bed’s edge, and then halfheartedly dropped a foot to the carpeted yet cold floor. The kids will be up soon—she had better get breakfast going. She sat up. Or did she? It was a lousy dream if she hadn’t.

  In another moment, she staggered down the hall more on autopilot than by desire. As she rounded the corner, Jordon met her with a cup and a kiss on her cheek. She found a seat at the breakfast bar, or hoped she had. It was cushioned and seemed to have a backrest. Ah, shoot, close enough. Whatever it was, it would have to do until her eyes actually opened anyway. She raised the cup to her chin, and once again inhaled long and steady.

  Jordon slid a saucer toward her, sounded like a saucer anyway—just a crack, she forced open a reluctant eye. Lovely—a pastry on a small plate. Was that anyone’s idea of breakfast? She and he needed to talk.

  Jordon spoke. At least his tone was tender. “I believe the preferred method is to actually drink the coffee. That is, if you want its effects to last.”

  The slight nip in the air kissed her bare arms with goose bumps—she clutched the cup all the more. “Couldn’t you just set up an I.V. and let me mainline it. That way I can sleep while you wake me.”

  “The bed calling you back, is it, Mom?”

  “Uh huh. We have become quite close these last few hours actually. I just assumed we’d have a lengthier relationship. I guess I was wrong.”

  Jordon chuckled. “I know, I know. I’d let you lie in bed and sip your coffee through a straw, but it’s way too hot for that, isn’t it? To actually drink coffee you have to sit up, don’t you?”

  “Get me a straw and we’ll see.” She straightened, flexed her neck and rolled her head, then looked around. “Where’s your father, Jordy?”

  Jordon froze where he stood and slowly set the coffee pot back in its cradle. “Dad’s gone, Mom.” He turned to look squarely at her. “Dad’s been gone for years.”

  Mara’s jaw sl
acked. Of course Jordon Sr. was gone. He had died six years ago. She knew that. What was she thinking? She lifted her cup and took a healthy draught. “I had the most wonderful dream. Now . . . I’m awake.” She shook her head and shuddered.

  Jordon came around the breakfast bar, and from behind, wrapped warm arms around her. “Sorry, Mom,” he said. “I miss him too.”

  Mara felt tears suddenly well behind her eyes. “Pastry is no breakfast, son. I’ll fix us something real.” Slipping free of his arms, she stood and walked around to the breakfast bar’s other side.

  Jordon spoke to the ship. “Freefall, play Mom’s morning music, please.”

  Mara took another sip of her coffee, and the tune began, soft at first. Then as it quickly came to life the melody brought her with it. She gave her cup a good long sip then got to her feet and started to move around the kitchen. The griddle was heated, the batter was mixed, and the bacon was set on a cookie sheet and placed in the oven, all on a schedule only she knew or could manage. It always came together at the right time. But for some dumb reason, tears began to trail down her face. She was being stupid. Jordon had been gone for years, but she still missed him tremendously. She wiped her face dry with the back of her hand and focused on the meal.

  One by one the crew crawled out of bed and made their way to the kitchen to join the others. They helped by setting the table and pouring the juice.

  Buck and Katherine came in—they’d spent the night—and, although sleepy-eyed, poured themselves coffee, and quietly took it to the living room couch.

  It was only when Buck got up to refresh his coffee did Mara notice them and greet each with a wink and a smile.

  Buck lifted his cup in salute. “The coffee’s good, sis. Thank you for having us over.”

  Mara smiled softly. Buck and Kathy made such a lovely couple. “Always glad to have you,” she said detecting something different in Kathy’s eyes and her carriage.

  Jordon said nothing when they’d come in. And, yes, they’d seen the well-oiled machine called Mara in action.

  “Breakfast will be ready soon,” Mara said, puzzling a moment longer about that something different she saw in Kathy.

  “Watching you flit around the kitchen,” Kathy said, “is quite the show. You’ve made it kind of a dance, haven’t you?”

  “Have I?” Mara said with a wink. The music and the dancing were just the distraction she needed to get her mind off her husband. She missed Jordon Sr. more that anyone knew.

  With breakfast served, everyone took a seat. They passed pancakes and eggs from person to person.

  Josh and Nate asked their ‘Uncle Buck’ about his travels.

  Between bites he told them tales of high adventure and of near misses, of borrowed ships and of bribed pirates. He was good at telling tales, but whenever Ericca was around, he got so much better. Both of them did, playing off one another’s stories as if they’d shared the same life. It was Buck, in fact, that first found Ericca and Riley two years back. Viper had gotten them off planet and away from Coredei, then died. Had Buck not happened along when he did . . . well . . .

  Presently Buck focused on the two young crewmen. “To keep the Confederation off balance, I try to keep our numbers hidden. Sometimes I have to collude with a pirate or two. I hire them to strike one area while my real target is halfway across the Confederation.”

  “Sounds exciting, Uncle Buck,” said Rachel. “You ever get scared?”

  “Nah,” said Nate. “He’s Captain French. Duh.”

  “I’d be nervous,” said Josh. “You can’t count on pirates for nothin’.”

  “Josh is right. There are times when I am apprehensive. I have good reason to be; pirates being what they are and all. But there is one among them who has my trust. We call him the pirate prince. Quite the opposite of his father, his word is gold.”

  “It’s a dangerous game you play, Buck,” Jordon said, turning to his crew.

  Buck shrugged, dropped his eyes, and spoke into his breakfast. “I give families safe passage to Providence. No big.”

  Jordon snorted. “No big, he says. Yeah, right.”

  No one had to say it. The kids could read a map, even with its ever-changing border. They knew that, because of Buck’s fearless band of followers, planet after planet had turned from the Confederation to join the Providence Union. No one could say he hated the oppressive regime more than he.

  Except . . .

  Perhaps . . .

  Ericca.

  As Buck told his tales with hands and arms flying this way and that to demonstrate maneuvers and such, not everyone’s attention was on him. Mara studied Kathy.

  Kathy glanced her way. The longer Mara stared at her, the more Kathy fidgeted. Finally when she could stand it no longer, Kathy looked straight at her sister-in-law and, in exasperation, silently mouthed one little word.

  “What?”

  Mara’s smile broadened. Leaving her chair, she came around to Kathy and, from behind, gave her sister-in-law a hug, then whispered in her ear, “Congratulations.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Mara whispered again. “How long have you known and when were you going to tell us?”

  “Tell you what?” Kathy whispered.

  Mara could barely contain her excitement. “That you’re going to have a baby, silly.” She reached down and rubbed Kathy’s belly.

  Kathy jumped to her feet, grabbed Mara’s shoulders, and studied her eyes. “Mara, are you serious?”

  Mara’s rapid nod showed she was elated, and the two women squealed with delight as they embraced. After a moment, Mara pulled back and held her sister-in-law at arm’s length to consider the woman’s face. “You mean you didn’t know?”

  Still smiling Kathy held Mara’s gaze.

  “How do you know I’m pregnant?”

  Unintentionally, the two women were now the center of everyone’s attention.

  “She knows,” Jordon said from across the table. “Few doctors out here. Mom has had plenty of mid-wife experience. Trust me. When it comes to telling if someone is with child this woman knows.”

  He stretched across the table and took Buck’s hand. “Congrats, old man. You’re going to be a new member in the daddies’ club, and they’ll probably expect you at their next meeting.”

  Stunned, Buck sat unmoving. “We’ve been trying to have a baby, but . . .”

  “All in God’s good time, brother,” Mara said.

  Finally, through the fog, Buck rose from his seat to take his wife in his arms.

  Mara hugged them both. “You’re going to be wonderful parents. I’m sure of it.”

  Buck tenderly held his wife. “For five years we dreamed we’d have kids of our own.” He looked toward Rachel and Jordon. “Either of you up for a cousin or two?”

  Rachel masked her smile with a forced scowl. “Just don’t ask me to change any diapers.”

  Jordon raised his brows high. “Ditto that.”

  Mara clapped their shoulders and then embraced them once more. “You don’t know it just yet, but the next nine months will fly past you at lightning speed and, at the same time, crawl along at a snail’s pace. Trust me in that.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Breakfast soon ended and, as the crew cleared the table, they chatted about the news of the coming baby. Mara and Kathy headed off to make plans of their own for this next new arrival as well.

  Jordon and Buck had plans to nail down and didn’t want to waste precious time traveling from Freefall to the Adventurer or vice versa. Thus the invitation to spend the night suited both men perfectly. The other ships’ captains were to join them here after the morning meal. And here they would strategize. Things were happening fast. With the pending confrontation with the Confederation fleet no one could afford distractions. And now Buck’s ability to focus was in question.

  Jordon recruited Nate to escort the soon-to-arrive guests to the conference room. For the most part, the captains showed up at the appointed hour. They filed in to take se
ats around the table. Hidden projectors created a semi-transparent holograph above the table’s center of the to-be-talked-about portion of the asteroid field. Each ship was indicated by a labelled marker, as was the proposed flight path of each. The key, here, was to work as a team. Nate stayed to fetch coffee and help out where he could. Mostly he sat quietly in a corner to wait and watch. Few even realized he was there.

  Then word came directly to buck’s com-badge. Kathy’s voice was a model of restrained excitement. “Honey, the test says ‘yes!’ It’s confirmed.”

  Buck’s jaw slacked.

  Jordon saw his uncle’s face drain of blood, and helped him lower into a nearby chair. Jordon remembered how he himself felt when he first learned that his mom was pregnant with Rachel. Jordon was only five at the time, but just as it was with him, for Buck, hearing was one thing, realizing what it meant was another. The impact of it, reflected in Buck’s face, could not have come at a worse time. Perhaps it was for the best.

  Jordon sighed and straightened to speak to the new arrivals. “Sorry, gentlemen. Seems I’ve called you here for nothing. It appears my stay will be cut short.”

  Buck got a firm grip of Jordon’s arm. “Not so fast, brother. Nothing’s changed.”

  “Actually,” Jordon said meeting his uncle’s stern eyes with an understanding smile, “everything has.”

  “No, Jordy. The universe doesn’t revolve around me and my issues. Just because my life has been altered, doesn’t mean everyone else’s has to be. I was in an hour ago; I’m in now.”

  “Are you able to focus?”

  “We have a job to do. This is where my mind will be.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Though Joshua’s help as a tactician would certainly help the adults; at present, something else was of greater concern to him. After the new arrivals had been settled he excused himself.

  He found Rachel, dressed in one of Jordon’s lightweight, energy spacesuit, sitting on the platform extending out from Freefall’s stern. All around her lay parts of every size and shape from a now completely dismantled Talon. The second interceptor floated in tow just overhead.

 

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