Ghost of Jupiter (Jade Saito - Action Sci-Fi Series Book 1)

by Tom Jordan

  “No way. You can’t leave me hanging like that,” Jade said.

  Tommy slapped her hand, leaving a mess of grease on it. She grimaced at her blackened palm. “Oh, great.” She turned around and held out her hand near her hip. “Down low!”

  Tommy shrugged and slapped it as they shared a round of laughter.

  “It’s weird having that kind of talk, isn’t it? Are we gonna be cool?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” He sniffed. “But you have to understand, I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t so important to me. I really think you’re playing with fire here. Marco’s just…you have to be careful, Jade.”

  Jade felt like a defiant kid getting in trouble in school. “You don’t trust my judgment?”

  “I don’t trust his judgment with my friend’s heart. I think you’re both looking for different things.”

  They stared out the life-support field. Jade didn’t know what else to say.

  A pinging sound pulled Jade’s attention downward.

  “There,” Tommy said, poking his finger into the holomap. Audacity and Rebel Star appeared at the edge of the scanning range as a pair of icons. Jade and Tommy peered through the sparkling life-support field, waiting to see the other two ships. Jade wiped sweat from her brow—the extreme environment of Balenos A had warmed the temperature within the ship to uncomfortable levels. Jade had removed her flight suit, which normally helped a pilot keep comfortable in the often-cool interior of the cockpit. She now wore a tank top and shorts. Tommy was dressed in one of her spare large T-shirts and his boxer shorts. Sweat darkened the necks of both of their shirts, and beaded on their foreheads.

  Henning’s and Marco’s ships appeared as distant specks, wavering in the heat shimmer from the broiling surface of the planet. They approached from the horizon, growing slowly larger. As the ships neared, Henning slowed and swung his vessel around the back of Ghost, and Marco shot overhead and out of view on the other side.

  “Coming in behind you guys,” Henning said over the channel. “Setting down close so you can come aboard and check this thing out. How are your repairs coming?”

  “Good,” Jade answered. They’d completed the bulk of the work. Jade had helped Tommy realign the damaged holoimager, close the engine-access hatch, and increase power to the life-support field reinforcing the cockpit. Ghost of Jupiter would need a full diagnostic, but as far as she could tell, it would get off the ground. Tommy’d said he’d fly with her, since keeping the life-support field active would require someone to continuously balance power to the ship’s systems. Tommy seemed confident they’d be able to leave the planet and arrive safely at their destination, wherever that was, so long as it wasn’t too far away.

  Unfortunately, the easy camaraderie with him that Jade had been enjoying since their reunion had dissolved. She stole sidelong glances, gauging Tommy’s attitude. It was like the connection between them had been cut.

  Marco announced he wanted to fly another patrol. Meanwhile, Jade and Tommy suited up, slid across to Henning’s ship, and entered his airlock. Henning met them at the entrance and assisted with removal of their exo suits. Jade was surprised at how much cooler it felt aboard Henning’s larger ship than it did on her own.

  Tommy rubbed his hands together. “Crate’s in the hold?”

  “Sure is,” Henning said.

  Jade helped Tommy limp his way across the ship. A compact staircase of sturdy metal at the rear of Audacity led up to its cargo hold. Jade thought it was a strange configuration, since any cargo would have to be loaded onto the higher deck by grav pallets, cranes, or onboard loading equipment. She intended to ask Henning about it later, as she was becoming increasingly curious about the Sakharov’s design.

  Henning said, “Lights,” as the three ascended the staircase to the cargo bay, causing rows of overhead LEDs to flick on. The bay was roomy, taking up the full length of the ship. Jade guessed its size at fifteen or twenty meters. It was narrow in comparison and had a high ceiling with a gentle downward slope toward the bow. A short grid of metal lockers lined the rear wall. Benches, pull-up bars, free weights, a jump rope, and other pieces of fitness equipment were gathered in one corner near the basketball hoop, all of which Jade remembered from the ship tour on Gibson City. The bay was otherwise as empty as before, save for one addition: a metal container secured against the port wall, held fast by ratcheting straps. The crate was made of a metal that looked like burnished steel. It had rounded edges and appeared to be a perfect cube. Jade figured she and Tommy, if they stood on opposite sides, could lay their hands on top but wouldn’t be able to touch one another’s fingers across it. Vestiges of an orange glow were fading from its surface as it cooled.

  Henning gestured toward it. “This thing hit the ground pretty fast. It was embedded in the rock. Unbelievable.”

  The group walked over to the crate. Its flawless surface caught and reflected the overhead lights.

  Jade raised her eyebrows. “This was embedded in the rock?” she said.

  “Yeah,” Tommy added. “It looks pristine.”

  Henning kicked it. The crate whispered back a quiet, dull sound. “Magnesium-titanium alloy. Got to hand it to fuckin’ Marco, he was right. This thing’s totally intact. And part of it was dipped in goddamn magma. It should have melted.”

  “Lava,” Tommy said. “Magma is when it’s underground.”

  “Forgive me, professor,” Henning said, tipping an imaginary hat to Tommy.

  Tommy ran his hands over the crate, then pulled back and shook out his palms. “Yeowch! Still hot!”

  “What are you doing, exactly?” Jade asked Tommy. He bore a look of concentration and squinted, his face close to the crate as he could get it without touching.

  “Looking for a seam,” he answered without looking up. “Smugglers and people sending secure cargo don’t want their stuff tampered with, so they hide the openings and controls.”

  “How come you know that and I don’t?” she asked. Tommy didn’t answer.

  Jade watched Tommy search for the next few minutes. Henning stood to her side, his stance wide and his large, tattooed forearms folded in front of him. Eventually Tommy stepped back and stuck his fists on his hips. He stared at the crate and made a variety of hmm sounds.

  “Wish I had my stuff,” he muttered under his breath. He turned to Henning. “What do you have for a cargo scanner or something I can use to poke around?”

  “Don’t we want to leave it the way it is?” asked Jade. “I mean, they were clear about wanting the crate intact.”

  Tommy’s face had a look of mischief that she recognized. “Got to make sure whatever’s in there is in good shape, right? We also should verify it’s the right crate,” he said with a smile.

  Henning pointed a meaty finger at the huge, silvery container. “Pretty sure that’s the right fucking crate.”

  Jade felt she couldn’t take this bit of investigation away from him, in light of the recent tragedy of losing his ship, and maybe lifting his mood would help repair this rift between them.

  “Let’s just make sure it’s the one we need, and get it back to the client,” she said. “I’m ready to part with it and move on.”

  “Gonna need a little bit of time here,” Tommy said.

  “In that case, we should probably move along to a place we can fix up our ships,” Jade said. “And ourselves. My life-support field won’t hold up forever.” She turned to Henning. “Tommy needs to get checked out too.” Tommy grunted, but remained focused on the silvery container.

  “Yeah. Good call,” Henning said. He put two fingers up to his ear, apparently using a manually activated earpiece rather than one like Jade’s, which was programmed to activate based on conversational context and tone of voice.

  “Audacity here. You there, Marco?” He paused while Marco apparently responded. “Yeah. And we’re ready to move out. Where we headed?” Another pause. “Okay. I’ll check.” He let go of his earpiece, turned to Jade, and waved for her to follow. “Jade, want to g
ive me a hand finding a place for us to get patched up, mate?”

  “Sure thing,” she said.

  Jade followed Henning down the metal staircase and back to the cockpit, where they checked maps of surrounding star systems. They located the nearest port: a titanic asteroid called Keillor.

  The Keillor asteroid housed numerous refineries and extraction facilities that exploited its deposits of valuable metals, turning them into resources to support manufacturing districts and technical markets. Keillor’s robust economy made it a destination for corporate traders, and the statistics suggested the asteroid housed entire cities. Jade had never heard of an asteroid containing anything approaching the scope of Keillor’s settlements.

  The ship’s database displayed several travel warnings about Keillor’s lack of oversight from the main large governments in known space and classified its government as independent, something that in Jade’s experience usually meant a haven for criminal elements engaged in smuggling, drug trades, and other illicit activity.

  But it was also the closest port to this system. Jade’s life-support fields wouldn’t last until they reached another location, not even their prior port of Gibson City. Keillor was their best and only option.

  Jade and Henning passed the information to Marco, and Tommy cut in on the chat. “Uh…so, guys…this thing’s counting down.”

  Jade frowned and looked at Henning. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “The crate. It’s counting down. I probed it with a few wireless protocols to check its status. Somehow that opened its control pad. We have an embedded keypad and a display with big numbers. They’re counting down.”

  Jade and Henning rose as one and walked out of the cockpit, making their way toward the staircase leading to the cargo bay.

  “How long?” Marco said over the line.

  “Twenty hours and change,” replied Tommy.

  Jade followed Henning up the staircase. Each of his boot steps made a loud clang. Henning had to duck and twist to thread his muscular bulk through the hatch at the top.

  The cargo bay opened up before Jade as she crested the stairs. Tommy sat cross-legged before the silvery, square crate. His back was to them and he didn’t seem to notice their approach.

  Jade stood behind Tommy, and Henning called his name. Tommy didn’t answer. Henning laid his hand on the younger man’s shoulder, which caused him to jerk in surprise.

  “What’s going on with the crate?” Jade asked.

  Tommy ran a hand through his hair and put down a thin tablet which projected a holographic display. She peered around Tommy to see that the crate had a square section that had hinged open, revealing a keypad with steel buttons and a sleek display. It showed only large, red numbers.

  It read 20:04:16, and the seconds were decrementing as she watched.

  “Yeah,” Tommy said as he frowned down at the tablet. “It’s…” He paused and his frown deepened. “Counting.”

  Jade decided to sit down with Tommy and folded her legs under herself. “Why would it decide to count down?”

  Henning put two fingers to his earpiece. “You getting this, Marco?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “Well,” Tommy began, “it’s like I said. I probed it to see what kind of interface it had and whether I could get any details, any status, whatever kind of info it would send back. One of the communication requests I fed into it triggered this panel to pop open.”

  “Why didn’t we see that before?” Henning asked.

  Jade squinted and peered at the container. “Because it was machined to be invisible. Precision cuts.”

  “Bingo,” Tommy said. “Anyway, it’s counting down and I haven’t been able to get it to stop or change in any way whatsoever. It’s just…counting. I triggered something, and I don’t know what.”

  Marco sighed angrily in their ears. “This is the last thing I needed. What happens when it reaches zero? Can we still sell it? Nice work, man. Nice work.”

  “Give him a break, mate! He’s been through enough shit!” Henning responded in a shout that echoed off the walls of the cargo bay. Jade jumped in surprise.

  Marco continued unfazed, “We don’t know what’s in there, or if it can expire or perish, or release something really bad for us. It might activate a tracking device so that we’re no longer needed. Regardless, the terms we accepted for this mission make the simple point that once that thing opens, we can no longer collect that reward, and in fact are liable for—”

  “Oh, put a fucking sock in it, mate! You think Tommy needs you to shit all over him?” Henning yelled at the ceiling. He took out his earpiece and whipped it toward the far wall, where it clacked off the metal and what fell to the floor.

  Tommy looked down, dejected. Jade leaned forward and put a hand on his shoulder. What Marco had just done wasn’t okay, but for now, she decided to make an effort to set a different tone and be constructive. “Is there any way to know what might happen when it gets to zero?” she asked calmly.

  Tommy only looked down and shrugged.

  “Tommy?” Jade said softly, her hand still on his shoulder.

  Tommy lifted his gaze and returned her look. “Marco’s right. I don’t know what will happen.” He tossed the tablet atop the crate, where it slid to a stop. “I don’t know what’s in it.”

  “Okay,” Jade said.

  She resolved that she’d had enough problems. Things just kept going downhill, and she was sick of it. Same for Tommy. She was more upset about his ship than she wanted to let on. Her problems were bad, but were they as bad as his? The guy struggled to move and breathe, and he’d lost everything he had. He was in a world of pain, physical and emotional.

  It was time to make things go her way and be part of the solution. For her own sake, and Tommy’s.

  Jade stood and placed her hands on her hips. “So we have twenty hours to get to civilization, contact the company that lost this container, cash it in, and buy coffee. I’m ready to go. Tommy can fly with me. What are we waiting around this shitty planet for?”

  “Everyone get to their ships. We’re going. Skids up in ten,” Marco snapped.

  Thank you, she thought, glad that Marco was on board.

  Jade gave Tommy a hand up. He still limped due to his injured leg, and she drew his arm around her shoulder for support and led them toward the airlock.

  Jade helped Tommy wrestle his way out of his exo suit as Ghost of Jupiter’s ramp closed and the ship repressurized. Every opening of the ramp introduced more of the planet’s omnipresent soot, which swirled in on blackened winds. It now covered her main corridor in a fine layer and gathered in the corners like some kind of vile snow.

  “Thanks, Jade,” Tommy said. “I know what you’re doing.”

  She struggled to free his boot and replied with a grin. “We need to rely on each other.”

  She helped him up and to the cockpit. Her lights and holomenus engaged when she stepped past the doorway. To save time, she propped Tommy against the bulkhead, leaned over her chair’s arm, and keyed the startup sequence. The floating green images displayed progress bars and updates as the computer ran checks on the main systems it powered for flight. Notifications appeared as the power plant increased its output in preparation for the demands of the many systems that got the ship into the air and kept it there.

  She unbuckled Mosso from the secondary chair and hugged him close, thinking about where to put him. She offered him to Tommy.

  “Have you met Mosso?” she asked. Tommy gave a quick cough, wincing, and then smiled when he saw Mosso’s sleepy grin and warm, jovial eyes.

  “How do you do, sir?” he asked, attempting to straighten.

  “Looks like Mosso is going to ride in my cabin for a while,” Jade said. “I think it’s okay given the circumstances, but if you weren’t hurt I’d make you sit on the deck.”

  Tommy saluted. “I’m here to relieve you then, Commander Mosso. I’ll serve the captain well in your place.” Jade helped lower Tommy into t
he chair, and then took Mosso back and secured him in her cabin. She patted his head, thinking herself foolish for interacting with Mosso as she did. She shrugged and reached the same conclusion as always: space was cold and lonely. Mosso was an old friend. It worked for her. She headed back for the cockpit.

  Jade dropped into her flight seat. “You ready, copilot?” Tommy was finishing strapping himself in the chair and gave a double thumbs-up.

  “I’ll monitor your systems and life support as we go,” Tommy said. “Give me a minute and I’ll program a course for you, Captain.”

  “Captain,” Jade said, raising her eyebrows. “I like that. My own crew member to do my bidding!” They shared a laugh.

  “I can’t wait to get all up in your ship. I already have a ton of ideas to upgrade this bad boy for you. You let me tinker with the Ghost and I’ll be your cockpit slave all day long.”

  “You got it,” Jade said. “But he’s Ghost. Just Ghost.” She wondered how serious Tommy was being. Was he expressing his interest in her ship using his usual humorous approach, or did he truly want to fly with her? Did he have money for another ship? She decided to bring it up later—a glance at her holos showed the ship was almost ready for lift-off.

  Jade scrutinized some messages that popped up. “I have some warnings about reduced power output and a suggestion for engine maintenance, but nothing preventing flight. Do I have clearance?”

  Tommy made a finger-guns gesture. “Green light.”

  Jade fastened her straps and hailed the rest of the team. “We’re good here. You ready, Henning?”

  “Yeah, mate. Ready when you are.”

  “Marco?” Jade was eager to hear his voice, yet her increasing fondness for him was now tempered by his recent outburst toward Tommy. She understood his dissatisfaction about the crate, but even with the stress he was under, she didn’t find his behavior excusable. She toyed with the idea of bringing it up but was hesitant to be too firm—part of her was worried about chasing Marco away. It was strange to feel so conflicted about it. She wondered briefly if this validated Tommy’s concerns about Marco, but dismissed the idea. This had to do with Marco’s firmness, not his treatment of her.