Horizon Down (Galaxy Mavericks Book 9)

by Michael La Ronn

  Claire held out her hand.

  Keltie took it. And then she saw her friend’s eyes.

  Instead of the usual green, they were wispy black coals. Flame-like. Demon-like.

  Keltie shrank back.

  “Let me guess: the eyes are freaking you out?” Claire asked.

  Keltie said nothing.

  Grayson came to her defense and stood in front of her.

  “Please don’t be concerned,” Claire said. “I…I…can’t speak to why we look this way. We’ve been here so long. If you stay, the same thing will happen to all of you, too.”

  She gestured to the rest of the team, who were looking at her cautiously.

  “I know we look strange,” Claire said, “but it really is us. We should be the skeptical ones.”

  “She kind of has a point,” Michiko said.

  “If you need assurance that it’s me,” Claire asked.

  “No,” Keltie said. “I know it’s you.”

  “How?”

  “I just—I just know.”

  Claire took her hand. And then they hugged.

  “Keltie,” Grayson whispered.

  She tuned him out.

  Claire patted Keltie’s hand. “You’ve lost weight.”

  Keltie never wanted to let go; she wanted to save everyone, get them out of this godforsaken place and put it all behind her. Claire was alive.

  Claire was alive!

  “I guess I have, huh?” Keltie asked. “Being a galactic hero will do that to you.”

  “Who are your friends?” Claire asked.

  Keltie introduced the team.

  “More importantly, why don’t you tell us why you’re here,” Devika said. “Given all that’s happened since the attack, we’re the ones that have a right to question you.”

  “All that’s happened,” Claire said, repeating Devika’s words. “What has happened?”

  “The galaxy has gone to shit, that’s what,” Smoke said.

  Keltie told Claire the highlights of everything that happened so far.

  “Hmm, that is weird,” Claire said. “Well, I can tell you that absolutely nothing has happened here. We’ve been waiting for someone, anyone…”

  “So you’re saying nothing at all has happened here?” Grayson asked.

  Claire shook her head.

  “Bullshit,” Grayson said. He pulled Keltie away.

  Keltie pushed him away.

  “Quiet,” she said.

  “I highly doubt that nothing has happened here,” Grayson said.

  Claire grabbed her. “Keltie, do you trust me?” she asked.

  Keltie looked back and forth between Grayson and Claire.

  “Claire, I—”

  “Hello,” Grayson said, waving to Keltie. “If nothing has happened here, how do you explain that?”

  He pointed to Refugio.

  Claire went silent.

  “Keltie, whatever spell you’re under, it’s about time you snapped out of it,” Grayson said.

  Keltie stammered.

  Michiko grabbed her hand.

  “Honey, you know we love you, but something’s weird here.”

  “Keltie!” Claire said forcefully. “Just give me one moment. It’s all I need. I promise.”

  Claire gestured for her to follow, and she started walking to the greenhouse.

  Keltie pushed Grayson and Michiko away.

  “Keltie,” Grayson said, reaching for her.

  But Keltie ignored him, took Claire’s hand, and walked to the greenhouse.

  CRACK!

  BANG!

  POW! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!

  WHISH…

  In the engine room of the warship, Huxley smashed into the ship’s hyper core with a sledge hammer. The core hummed a crescendo that slid down several octaves before shutting off.

  Tatiana ripped out several wires from the ship’s navigational panel, cutting them with shears. Sparks flew.

  Florian stood and watched them, grinning. In the reflection of the metal walls, his black eyes blazed wildly.

  He spotted three shadows behind him.

  “What the devil do you want?” he asked.

  The shadows slid away from him.

  “All right, all right,” he said. “You want her, go get her. But leave the rest for me.”

  The shadows slunk out of the ship. Florian watched as three figures ran toward the settlement.

  42

  “Funny how some things never change, you know?” Claire asked, opening the greenhouse door.

  Keltie entered.

  They walked through another inner door into a row of vibrant flowers and trees. They were brighter than Keltie remembered, and she wasn't sure if it was the light in the netherscape playing tricks on her.

  When the door slammed, Claire hugged Keltie again.

  “It's so unreal, you know?” Claire asked.

  Keltie hugged back. Then she took Claire by the shoulders. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

  “I hope so,” Claire said.

  “No hoping,” Keltie said. “You've got a fiancée waiting on you.”

  Claire laughed. “I do miss Dexter.”

  “What did you want to show me?” Keltie asked.

  Then they rounded a potted tree and saw it.

  A giant swirl of white on the ground. It looked like a vortex, and its light was loud and ripping.

  “What the—”

  “It just appeared randomly one day,” Claire said. “We've been too scared to approach it.”

  Keltie stared at the vortex. “Where do you think it goes?” she asked.

  Claire shrugged. “I don't know. But maybe it's time we found out.”

  Claire took Keltie’s hand.

  “You trust me, right?”

  Keltie said nothing.

  “What if this was our only way out?” Claire asked. “What if it disappeared?”

  “Claire, we should tell everyone about this,” Keltie said.

  “They wouldn't understand,” Claire said. “All of us might not fit.”

  Claire rubbed Keltie’s hand.

  “Being here so long has made me realize what's important in life,” she said. She gestured to the settlement. “None of them matter. Only you do, lady.”

  Keltie felt warm inside.

  “Please trust me,” Claire said, “I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that, right?”

  They held hands and looked at the vortex.

  “What do you think is going on in there?” Michiko asked.

  “I'm going in,” Grayson said, storming toward the greenhouse.

  Devika stopped him.

  “Let her work out her own problems,” she said.

  “Step aside,” Grayson said.

  “She has to make her own choices,” Michiko said. “Just like you do.”

  “Screw choices,” Grayson said.

  Alistair walked up to Grayson, palms out.

  “Hey, big guy, it's just fine,” he said. “Claire probably just wants to catch up. That's all.”

  “Who are you?” he asked.

  “Alistair. I'm Keltie’s loan officer. Who are you?”

  Grayson pursed his lips.

  “You two are going to end up in a fist fight,” Michiko said. “That's not a good idea.”

  She pushed herself between Grayson and Alistair, creating distance between the two men.

  “Now, we should talk about our differences,” Michiko said. “No good ever came out of—”

  “Michiko,” a female voice said.

  That voice.

  She knew that voice.

  She turned around.

  Three young people stood at the edge of the settlement. An African woman with dark skin. A Caucasian man with tired eyes. A Middle Eastern looking man with a hooked nose and a crescent smile.

  Michiko put her hands to her mouth.

  “Look at you, trying to save the world,” the African woman said.

  “Ashley,” Michiko said. “Rudy, Hassan
!”

  She ran to them.

  43

  “We’re picking up a signal in the vicinity,” Beauregard said.

  The lights on the bridge of the GGC Horizon were turned down low. Will perched at his station, cross-referencing the holographic star map with their visual location. Then he fixed his eyes on space, scanning every piece of the darkness.

  “Gotta be around here somewhere,” Will said.

  His eyes were getting tired. They'd been out here for hours already.

  Griffin Sims stood at his station, sweeping a searchlight across the wide expanse. He squinted and dragged the searchlight in a methodical line, leaving no star or shadow unlit.

  “Gotta tell ya,” Will said, “it's pretty nice to be in a part of space where things aren't blowing up.”

  “Momentary silence,” Beauregard said.

  “What do you think’s gonna happen?” Will asked. “Everything's gone to hell.”

  “I'm not worried about the Arguses,” Beauregard said. “It's the Zachary Empire that worries me.”

  “Those guys creep me out,” Will said.

  “Over there,” Sims said, blinking the searchlight.

  Beauregard took the ship’s joystick and steered toward an almost imperceptible red dot.

  “Lock in the location, Will,” he said.

  “Got it,” Will said. “Ready, Sims?”

  “Born ready,” Sims said.

  Will snapped his fingers. “Okay, do me a favor and never ever say that again, will you?”

  “I'll be back,” Sims said, dashing for the airlock.

  “Be careful out there,” Beauregard said.

  “Likewise,” Will said.

  Will shrugged and followed.

  “Who do you think it is?” Sims asked as they suited up.

  “Maybe a survivor from a nearby conflict,” Will said. “There was a battle about ten light years from here.”

  “An escape pod couldn't drift that far,” Sims said, latching his helmet.

  “Guess you're right,” Will said, doing the same. They grabbed their tool belts off the wall and stood in front of the airlock, activating their radios.

  “You know what would be funny, awesome, and pretty freaking scary?” Will asked.

  “What's that?”

  “If Jesus Christ was in that escape pod.”

  Sims laughed.

  “Oh, you laugh,” Will said, “but that would solve all of our problems, man.”

  “Wishful thinking,” Sims said.

  “With all the war going on, somebody’s gotta wish. You were the one going on and on about having faith, remember?”

  They grabbed a magnetic rope and tested it. Strong as it should have been.

  “When we found Michiko Lins?” Sims asked. “Yeah, it was a gut feeling, I guess.”

  “I stopped trusting my gut years ago,” Will said. “It's the reason I don't get ulcers. Open her up, Beau.”

  Beauregard spoke on the ship’s intercom.

  “I've got a good visual, gentlemen,” he said. “Standard Class M escape pod.”

  Will whistled. “So we might be looking at prisoners of war, then.”

  “Those military pods are a pain,” Sims said as the airlock doors opened and they floated into space. “Gonna have to do everything manual. It's like cracking a nut. Won't even be able to tell what's in there, dead or alive, until we connect to it.”

  “Rotten military tech,” Will said. “Guess they don't want their prisoners being taken so easily.”

  Sims grunted.

  They floated into space, their suits attached to the ropes with D-rings. The escape pod loomed nearer, a golden bubble, and a tracking beacon at the top blinked red.

  Sims and Will activated jet propulsion devices on their suits—a feature they didn't often need, but came in handy for surgical operations like this one. A quick pulse of air, and the jet propulsion units gave them just enough momentum to steer themselves toward the pod.

  They twisted over and under each other as they oriented themselves toward the pod.

  Will blocked everything from his thoughts. He focused on the only thing that mattered between a good rescue and spending the rest of his life wandering through space—a textbook landing.

  He flipped himself so that he traveled feet first. Sims did the same.

  Closer.

  Closer.

  Closer…

  Whumpf!

  Will felt the vibration surge through his body as the magnets in his boots attached to the top of the pod.

  Sims was there, too, coiling the rope. Will did the same, wrapping some rope around his wrist.

  The winch inside the GGC Horizon gave, giving him some slack.

  Will crouched and brushed off frosted ice from the top of the pod.

  “Gotta be around here somewhere…”

  Using a hammer, he broke the ice, chipping away at it until he saw a control panel under a thin sheet.

  He and Sims worked methodically, breaking the ice around it.

  Will then keyed a command into the access panel and then pulled a hatch.

  The pod rumbled and vibrated.

  Static washed across the radio in Will’s suit.

  “Hello?” he asked. “Can anybody hear me?”

  Slowly, the static cleared, and he heard voices.

  He tilted his head.

  “Mashibabababa….”

  “Dios, salvanos!”

  And then a deep, male voice.

  “Therefore take no thought, saying, “What shall we eat? Or, What shall we drink? Or, wherewithal shall we be clothed? For your heavenly Father knoweth that he have need of all these things.”

  Will and Sims looked at each other.

  Will said “You don't think…”

  The voices stopped and the line went silent. Then the male spoke.

  “Hello? Hello?”

  Will answered. “Yeah, uh, this is Petty Officer Will Stroud with the Galactic Guard. We’re here to assist.”

  The line erupted with cheers.

  An elderly woman shouted “Gracias a dios!”

  “Looks like I was right,” Will said.

  “About Jesus?” Sims asked. “That's not Jesus in there.”

  “Next best thing,” Will said. “You owe me a beer.”

  “And a change of underpants by the flush look on your face when you heard that guy reciting scripture.”

  “Ha. Ha. Let's reel ‘em in, shall we?”

  Will and Sims attached the magnetic ropes to the top and side of the escape pod. Then they gave the signal to Beauregard, who pulled them back into the airlock.

  44

  “I knew you'd come back for us,” Ashley said.

  Michiko hugged her tight.

  “You're the best,” Hassan said.

  “Guys, you have no idea how much I thought you were dead,” Michiko said.

  “We thought we were dead, too,” Rudy said. “But we were lucky. And we found these guys.”

  Rudy pointed to Alistair and the real estate crew. Alistair waved.

  “Tell me everything,” Michiko said.

  Eddie elbowed Grayson.

  “Starting to get weird, huh?” he asked.

  Michiko shushed him.

  “No ruining my reunion!” she said, wagging a finger.

  Then she punched Hassan on the shoulder.

  “No offense, but you got us into this,” she said.

  Hassan rubbed his shoulder.

  “Had a lot of time to think about that,” he said. “Sorry I got us into this mess. I really thought we might be able to save that lost guy.”

  “I forgive you,” Michiko said. “And if I weren't for you guys, I wouldn't have met my other friends.”

  “You abandon us just like that, huh?” Hassan asked.

  “I lost another friend, too,” Michiko said sadly, thinking of Clark.

  “Sorry,” Ashley said.

  “It's okay,” Michiko said. “I'm glad I have you guys back.”
/>   “Really weird,” Eddie said.

  Michiko spun around and yelled.

  “Eddie, I don't ruin your moments, so why don't you be quiet and let me have mine?”

  Then she gasped.

  An elderly man in a wheelchair was wheeling his way into the settlement. He was exerting all his energy, but he was determined, not letting any pile of dirt or rock stop him.

  Eddie said something in Spanish, then crossed himself.

  “Papa Ito?”

  The old man strained, then smiled.

  “Eddie. Eddie!”

  Eddie bolted to his grandfather, nearly knocking him out of his wheelchair.

  “Ha ha ha, I knew you'd give that Macalestern kid hell!” Papa Ito said.

  Eddie touched a long scar on the side of Papa Ito’s face.

  “Ah, don't mind that,” Papa Ito said. “It healed up. Estoy bien.”

  Papa Ito looked at Eddie with sadness in his eyes.

  “Y la familia?”

  Eddie turned away.

  “I haven't been able to find them yet.”

  Papa Ito paused.

  “I understand. They understand, too.”

  “I never forgave myself for leaving you,” Eddie said. “Papa Ito, you don't know how I wrestled—”

  “I understand,” Papa Ito said. “Say, Eddie, I want to tell you something.”

  “What is it, Papa Ito?”

  “It's…well…”

  Papa Ito’s head twitched.

  “Papa!” Eddie cried. “You haven't taken your medicine. Oh my God. What are we going to—”

  Papa Ito’s wispy black eyes bloomed larger. His head twitched. He struggled to lift a hand. Slowly, he curled a finger.

  Eddie knelt and looked at him.

  “Tell me what you need,” he said. “I can I'll do my best for you. I promise.”

  Papa Ito half-curled his finger. Even it was overtaken with spasms.

  “Grandpa’s not doing so well,” Grayson said skeptically.

  Eddie swatted him away.

  “Eddie,” Papa Ito said, “Eddie…I…”

  “What Papa? What?”

  Eddie leaned in and tilted his ear to better hear his grandfather. The old man sounded as if he hadn't had a drink of water in days.

  “Eddie…”

  Papa Ito licked his lips. His cheek spasmed. He swallowed hard. And then he opened his cracked lips—lips that were bleeding and raw—and he said, in an almost imperceptible whisper…