The Falken Chronicles

by Piers Platt

  Jiyake queried the Extremis’ database for the ship’s identification and it appeared a moment later: Starfarer. Her computer provided tonnage and registration info – Jiyake paged through to more recent information.

  >>>Flight Plan / Destination: New Caledonia.

  >>>Cargo: custom shipping containers.

  Jiyake put her chin on her hands and played the video forward. The Starfarer had leapt to FTL less than a minute after the CGS Extremis was disabled, just ahead of the Liberty Belle, who had stuck around briefly to ensure Jiyake and her crew were safe.

  And New Caledonia is roughly along the vector the Starfarer left on. But the timing sure is … coincidental. I remember those shipping containers. Big crates, and they looked reinforced, too … definitely not a typical design.

  Jiyake opened the inspection forms she had filled out and spent a moment skimming them, but there was nothing useful in them. She pulled up a crew list and passenger manifest and then fed them to the computer as well, running the names against police databases.

  >>>No results.

  Jiyake frowned. None? No one on this ship’s crew has ever had even the slightest run-in with the law? Not even a parking ticket? … that’s odd.

  She double-checked the passenger manifest next, but found only one name on the list: Hoyt Cadellium. An internet search led her to the website of an investment firm, at which Cadellium appeared to be the chief executive.

  He’s a banker or an investor or something, Jiyake thought. Those guys usually fly in style, they don’t hitch rides on cargo ships.

  Her wristpad buzzed; Jiyake glanced at it, then answered the call. “Detective Adnan, how are you?” she asked.

  “Good, Commander. I’ve got a couple developments I’d like to share with you, if you have a minute.”

  “Of course,” Jiyake said. “At the station?”

  “Actually, I was in the area, so I just dropped by. I’m at the docking tube outside the Extremis right now.”

  “Oh, okay. Hang on one sec.” Jiyake pressed an intercom at her station. “Officer of the Watch.”

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “There’s a detective hanging out by our docking tube. Do me a favor and escort him up to the bridge?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Adnan arrived a few minutes later, and Jiyake pulled a spare chair over from the navigation station. He sat down gratefully. “Thanks. Been running around a bit.”

  “I guess so,” Jiyake said. “I didn’t expect you to get back to me so soon.”

  Adnan shrugged. “Some cases drag out, but a lot tend to break in a matter of hours. There’s not much we can’t figure out in this day and age.”

  “Apparently,” Jiyake said. “Coffee? I think we have soda down in the wardroom, too.”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” Adnan said. He pulled out a datapad and activated it, sifting through to a notes application. “Okay, here’s what I’ve been up to. I started with Jens’ wife – paid her a quick visit at home. She basically repeated what she told me over the phone: Jens has been acting a little distant, but she doesn’t know why. He called her this morning after the accident and apologized in tears, then hung up.”

  “Same story he gave,” Jiyake said.

  “Yup,” Adnan agreed. “I pulled phone logs just to confirm their story, and they did talk. But … the timestamp on the call was off.”

  “What do mean, ‘off’?”

  “I mean that Jens called his wife to apologize before he hit your ship with his crane. She just assumed it was afterward, and hell, I did, too. But there’s no doubt: he got the crane all set up, then called her, then went ahead and hit you.”

  Jiyake snapped her fingers. “That explains the pause.”

  “The pause?”

  Jiyake nodded. “I was watching the video back, too – he lined the crane up, then waited for a minute, then hit us.”

  “Right,” Adnan said. “He was calling her.”

  “He was apologizing to her for hitting us, before he’d even done it. So he knew what he was about to do – he meant to do it.”

  “Looks like it,” Adnan said. “And I think I know why. I don’t think he was apologizing to his wife for the crane thing. Well, not just for that.”

  “What else, then?” Jiyake asked.

  “Well,” Adnan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Here’s where it gets a little awkward. I did a location trace on Jens over the past two weeks, and found he mostly stuck to the usual spots – home, his normal crane assignments for work, a couple shops and restaurants, and a bar he hangs out at most evenings before going home.”

  “Okay,” Jiyake said. “Why’s that awkward?”

  “Because he also spent two hours in a motel one evening after leaving the bar. And according to video surveillance at the bar and the motel, he wasn’t alone.”

  “Ah,” Jiyake said. “And I’m guessing the lady in question was not his wife.”

  “No,” Adnan said. “She was not.”

  Jiyake put her hands behind her head, frowning. “So you think he was apologizing to his wife for that, not what he was about to do with the crane?”

  “Maybe,” Adnan said. “Or maybe a little bit of both.”

  “Okay, I buy that. But … why sabotage the Extremis at all?” Jiyake asked. “The whole crane thing still doesn’t fit. Nobody throws away their job and trashes someone else’s ship just because they’re having an affair.”

  “No,” Adnan said. “They don’t. But Jens wasn’t having an affair.”

  “Well, don’t tell me he took some strange lady to a motel room to play checkers with her.”

  Adnan chuckled. “No, ma’am. The woman was an escort – she’s fully licensed to work here on Harrison’s. She’s also … uh … very highly regarded in her field. ‘High class,’ I think the term is.”

  Jiyake arched an eyebrow. “So Jens has expensive tastes.”

  “Too expensive,” Adnan said. “Way beyond his means – we’re talking a couple weeks’ pay for those two hours. And in fact, Jens didn’t pay her at all.”

  “Now you’re starting to lose me,” Jiyake said.

  “Yeah, remember how I said Jens might be over his head in something? That’s looking more and more likely. I spoke with the escort next. She told me she was recruited by an anonymous third party several weeks ago. They offered her double her normal rate – half in advance – to approach and seduce Jens.”

  Jiyake’s frown deepened, and then she looked up suddenly. “Blackmail,” she said.

  “That’s what it looks like to me,” Adnan said. “It all fits. Jens was set up – it would have been too easy to tail him and the girl leaving the bar, and catch them coming out of the motel a few hours later. Photos, video … it doesn’t matter. All they would need to do is threaten to send a copy to his wife.”

  “If that’s true, then it’s likely that the Extremis was the target all along,” Jiyake said, straightening up in her chair. “Somebody wanted us out of the picture.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Adnan said. “That’s my conclusion, as well. But the question is: who?”

  Jiyake rubbed at her forehead with her hand, and studied Adnan for a moment. “I have a hunch, Detective,” she said.

  “Hunches are good,” Adnan said. “‘A wild theory’s better than no theory at all,’ as my old captain used to say.”

  Jiyake played the footage of the Liberty Belle and the Starfarer leaving the dock for Adnan, and explained what she had turned up in the ship’s records.

  Adnan pursed his lips. “They had an unusual passenger, and unusual cargo ….”

  “… and a crew with a perfectly clean criminal record,” Jiyake added.

  “… okay, and that,” Adnan allowed. “And they left at the same time all of this was going down. That’s all circumstantial, honestly. It’s worth looking into, but … what’s their motive?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know,” Jiyake said, slumping in her chair and shaking her head. “I’ve got a feeling this is
all interrelated somehow, I just don’t know how.”

  Adnan nodded. “I know the feeling. Gotta give it time,” he said, standing up to leave.

  “What if we don’t have time?” Jiyake asked. “What if it’s all going down right now?”

  Adnan frowned. “Well … I dunno. Where were you guys headed before the accident?”

  “Olympus,” Jiyake told him. “To support the Liberty Belle on their rescue mission.”

  “Can you think of any reason why someone wouldn’t want you to go to Olympus?” Adnan asked.

  “No ….” Jiyake’s voice trailed off. “We can’t even land on Olympus. But come to think of it, there’s been some suspicious stuff happening at Olympus in the last twenty-four hours, too.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like one of the tourist ships crashing out of the blue, and the other tourist ship’s emergency beacon malfunctioning.” Jiyake’s eyes went wide. “Oh, shit. What if that emergency beacon wasn’t malfunctioning?” She swiveled in her seat, and keyed her long range radio. “Come in Adrenaline Junkies.”

  At the rear of the bridge, the hatch slid open, and Chief Risley strode in. “Hull’s all patched up, ma’am,” he reported, before noting the detective.

  Jiyake held up a finger for silence. “Adrenaline Junkies, Adrenaline Junkies, this is CGS Extremis, come in, over.”

  “Extremis, this is Liberty Belle, what’s up?” Captain Muir’s voice replied.

  Jiyake frowned. “I’m still getting an emergency beacon signal from the Adrenaline Junkies, Captain,” Jiyake said. “Can you give me a status?”

  There was a long pause, during which time Jiyake’s brows knitted even closer together.

  Finally, Muir spoke. “Uh, no, sorry – I don’t have an update on the Adrenaline Junkies. Maybe they’re having comm problems, too?”

  “That’s an awful lot of electrical issues,” Jiyake said.

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Extremis,” Muir replied.

  “Well, what’s your status?” Jiyake asked, changing tacks.

  “Good news on that front: all passengers and crew survived the Ecolympus crash, and managed to relocate to the research center. We’re preparing to descend to retrieve them.”

  Jiyake digested this news in silence, then punched the Transmit button again. “Acknowledged. Keep us posted on your status.”

  “Roger, Extremis,” Muir replied. “Be advised: we’re expecting heavy cloud cover later this evening. Looks like a storm’s coming. Could interfere with communications. Liberty Belle, out.”

  Risley rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. “What the hell’s she talking about? Since when have a few clouds interfered with long-range comms?”

  “They don’t,” Jiyake said, chewing the inside of her cheek. “But her pilot likes to say that storms are a bad sign – they bring the dragons.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Risley asked.

  “It means Muir’s trying to tell us something,” Jiyake decided. “She’s in trouble.”

  Chapter 26

  Falken gasped, and pushed the sensory displacement helmet off his head. The pod swung upright, draining of fluid, and he stepped out of it to find Luthena, Brondi, and Kuda waiting for him.

  “Did you get it?” Luthena asked.

  “Yeah,” Falken said. “It’s not tied down to anything, but I got a tranquilizer in it.”

  “Did you lose the proxy?” Brondi asked.

  “No,” Falken said. “But it’s pinned under the dragon right now.”

  “Head for the conference room,” Kuda said.

  “We can’t change?” Brondi asked, indicating his dripping wet bodysuit.

  “No,” Kuda said.

  They found Raynard awake and sitting at the conference room table. Kuda took his pistol back from Shep when they entered, while Falken and the two researchers took their seats.

  “Call the ship,” Kuda said. “We got two dragons.”

  “How are you feeling, Raynard?” Falken asked quietly, as Shep placed the call.

  “Kinda wish I was still passed out,” Raynard told him. “This trip is starting to really suck.”

  “Yeah,” Falken agreed.

  Vina made eye contact with Falken and shook her head slightly from side to side.

  Damn it, Falken thought. She couldn’t get a message out.

  *

  “Take us in,” Auresh ordered, standing in the Liberty Belle’s cockpit with Cadellium at his side.

  In the pilot’s seat, Talus set the craft on a descent vector, heading into Olympus’ upper atmosphere.

  “What do you have to do to disable the drone patrol?” Auresh asked.

  Muir shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “They recognize our transponder’s access authority, and just move aside.”

  Auresh grunted, and then keyed his wristpad.

  “Release the tow cable as soon as we’re past the sentry line,” he said, speaking into the device’s microphone.

  “This is the Starfarer, roger,” came the reply.

  Through the viewport, the drone ships split apart, and the Liberty Belle drove through the gap, disappearing into the cloud layer, pulling the Starfarer behind it. A moment later, Muir heard a metallic clunk come from the ship’s stern, and Talus jiggled the joystick experimentally, weaving the ship through a loose set of turns.

  “They’re unhitched,” he reported. “We’re clear.”

  The clouds ahead of them parted. A fine spray of water droplets ran off the viewport, and they saw Mount Olympus appear below them.

  “Head for the landing pad,” Auresh said. He spoke into his wristpad again. “Starfarer, make your approach and land as close as possible to the research center’s vehicle bay. Ground team reports the captive dragons are located there.”

  The two ships set down nearly simultaneously, and Talus began powering the Liberty Belle’s engines down. Muir stood up.

  “Stay right there,” Auresh told her.

  “I was just going to help connect us to the docking tube,” she said.

  “In due time,” Auresh said, his hand resting on a holstered pistol at his hip. “And certainly not without me watching you.”

  Auresh leaned past her, reaching down into her station, and pulled a keycard on a well-worn lanyard out of the console. The computer beeped at him immediately, and the screen displayed a warning message:

  >>>Ship’s master key removed; orbital launch capabilities disabled.

  Auresh waved the key at Muir. “In case you were thinking about trying to take off while I’m not paying attention,” he said, smiling cruelly. He slipped the lanyard over his neck, and then nodded toward the ladder to the bridge. “Let’s go.”

  *

  Shep led the two newcomers into the research center’s conference room.

  Falken studied them briefly, and then looked past them down the corridor. “What did you do with Muir and Talus?” he asked.

  “They’re locked in the docking tube,” the younger man said, handing a set of handcuff keys to Kuda. The man wore a blue captain’s uniform. “Is that okay with you?”

  Falken glared at him.

  “He’s a troublemaker,” Kuda said, watching Falken.

  “I see,” the man in the uniform said, meeting Falken’s gaze. “What’s your name?”

  “Falken. What’s yours?”

  The man laughed. “Auresh. Captain of the Starfarer.”

  Falken frowned in surprise. Either that’s an alias or he doesn’t care if I know his real name. Which would mean he’s not worried about me telling anyone who he is. That doesn’t bode well.

  “And who’s your friend?” Raynard asked, nodding toward the older man.

  “This is Mr. Cadellium,” Auresh said. The older man glared back at him, clearly annoyed.

  Shit, Falken thought. That’s his real name.

  Auresh turned back to Falken, and touched a finger to the side of his temple. “I’ve got my eye on you, Falken.” The captain held his
wristpad up to his mouth. “Starfarer: begin loading operations.”

  On the conference room’s screens, the ship’s ramp lowered slowly to the ground. While everyone watched the screens, Raynard slid a pen and a piece of paper into his lap and scribbled on it, then held it against Falken’s leg under the table. Falken glanced down and read it surreptitiously.

  Gonna kill us? the journalist had written.

  Falken took the pen. Probably.

  What do? Raynard wrote.

  Working on it, Falken scribbled.

  “You’ve got about two minutes, at most, before that ship is covered with dragons,” Luthena warned Auresh, watching the Starfarer on the external monitors.

  “Is that so?” the captain asked.

  Falken nodded. “She’s right. The dragons are all jacked up right now, with all the activity that’s been going on. Anyone you send out of the cargo hold is going to get eaten.”

  “We’ll see,” Auresh said, unimpressed.

  “They should go for the dragon inside the vehicle bay first,” Kuda told him. “The other one’s tied down.”

  “Starfarer, did you monitor?” the captain asked, as a dozen men jogged down the ramp and onto the ground outside the bay.

  “Roger,” came the reply. “Getting the far one first.”

  The men wore matching black uniforms with pistols mounted in holsters on their thighs, and each man had a full-face oxygen mask on, with a small tank in a harness on his back. The majority of the men broke off and gathered around the dragon in the bay, and after several false starts, they managed to lift it between them, half-carrying, half-dragging the creature up and onto a wheeled cart that several other men had pushed down and out of the ramp. Then they pushed the cart, laboring to move the heavy dragon across the rocky ground.

  “Incoming!” the radio warned. “Multiple creatures.”

  At once, the men on the ground let go of the cart and pulled strange-looking pistols with conical barrels out of their holsters. Two dragons landed on either side of the men, who had formed into a loose circular perimeter around the captured dragons. The men lifted their pistols and appeared to fire at the dragons. Falken saw the air in front of the pistols shimmer, as if it were vibrating. At once, the dragons shook their heads, ears flattened against their skulls. One dragon took off, beating a hasty retreat, while the other managed to fly only a few yards, before crashing back down to the ground. In pain, it pulled itself behind a rock formation and lay there, shaking.