Yet another fine line she narrowly avoided on most days. Hence her current predicament.
“You guys better not have left,” she swore under her breath as she tore through a series of doors leading to the roof. Each one creaked on its hinges as she booted them open, clutching the device close to her chest, protecting it like the lifeline it was.
Outside, and under the blaring sun, she had a straight path to follow that led to the airfield. Southward was her escape route, but the lay of the buildings would take her forty-degrees to the west. Still, avoiding the high-traffic streets would buy her precious time if she didn’t dawdle. She sucked on her top lip for a moment, guesstimating how far she would have to jump to make it across the tight alleys. I really wish I hadn’t lost my pack, she thought. She looked at the item in her hands, seemingly wanting to escape her grip as much as she wanted to flee this godforsaken world.
“You’ve got it, girl,” she whispered, then sprinted toward the edge of the roof, kicking up dust under her boots as the crunch of gravel beneath her feet kept time with her steps. It was a greater jump than she thought, but it was too late to stop. Leaning into the run, she hurled herself upward and out, her legs flailing beneath her, seeking purchase where there was none. When gravity ran its course, she slammed onto the rooftop, feet-first and skidding on the jagged rocks as she slowed to a stop. Wasting no time, Tawny dug her feet in and repeated the process, trying not to think of what would happen if she didn’t make it.
She swallowed back her fear, focusing forward with each footfall. The outside world disappeared into a tunnel-vision perspective as a mantra flowed from her lips. “Get to the ship. Get to the ship. Get to the ship.” She used this form of meditation often, but never as she exhausted herself running. Still, it had the calming effect she was hoping for.
With a final leap, she landed, crouching behind the flittering fabric of clothes drying on a line. The wind wisped the loose ends towards her as if they reached out to embrace her. She stepped through them, taking slow, calculated breaths to try lowering her heartrate. Eyes forward, the mantra continued silently in her mind until it was interrupted.
“That’s far enough,” a male voice said behind her.
She had half a mind to spin around to face the person speaking, but she knew a swift move could spell the end for her. “I’m just passing through,” she replied as calmly as her pounding heart would let her. The quiver in her voice betrayed her resolve.
“I didn’t ask,” he replied, his tone low and even. “If you reach for a weapon, I’ll throw you off this roof. Do you understand?”
Tawny nodded, confused why he wouldn’t shoot her instead before realizing he may not be armed himself. “I’m not packing, sir.”
The sound of heavy boots scuffing against loose rock drew closer to her and she stiffened, her concern for her wellbeing building. He was close enough she could hear his heavy breathing, almost wheezing from his lungs. “What are you carrying, if not a weapon?”
“It’s none of your concern.”
He reached out and grabbed her arm, spinning her on her heels and closing the distance between them. His threatening stare fell on her as she was shoved backwards on her feet, losing her escape route as the brick wall pushed back against her. “On my roof, everything is my concern,” he replied, stone-faced until an outbreak of coughing knocked his stoic expression down a notch or two.
“You have tuberculosis?” Tawny asked, recognizing the deep, watery cough of the illness emanating from his drowning lungs. Inoculation saved her from suffering the same fate, but now she was a carrier after he’d touched her. Anywhere she went, she would share the virus as well. At least until she washed herself and cleaned her clothes.
“I couldn’t afford the shots,” he replied, covering his mouth with a closed fist.
“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing for you in what I’m carrying,” she replied.
Weary eyes glanced up at her, teary from the pain of suffocation as his body deteriorated. “You can’t blame me for hoping you had something to help,” he said.
“I’m not sure how a weapon could help, if that’s what you thought I had,” she replied, easing off the wall and reluctantly stepping forward, trying to not pose a threat.
“An easy way out,” he replied sadly.
His words were like a slap in the face to her youth and health. But they also served to remind her why she was trying to flee from this pathetic world. “I’m sorry,” she croaked, a sudden lump in her throat unsettling her.
“Get out of here, kid,” the man said, turning away from her and hacking up a lung. She watched him stumble towards the edge of the roof and look out into the distance, his shoulders slumped in defeat. She could only assume it was the enemy of disease that took everything from him, but poverty would be a close second. How can you find happiness in decay?
Tawny took a step away from him, feeling the breeze kick up once more, the fabric wafting around her as if to say good-bye. She was running out of time. “I’m sorry,” she muttered once again, barely loud enough for her to hear it before she pushed through the door leading downstairs.
The door leading to the street opened to reveal the border wall separating the township from the port. Left unguarded, it served as a noise dampener more than anything else, though the engines of the larger ships still damaged the hearing of the locals. Nothing could compare to the feeling of your world on the brink of destruction as a cascade of high-decibel buffeting wafted around you. Luckily, the larger ships were gone, but the memory remained, and the damage.
Ducking under a hole in the wall, Tawny crawled out of the township on her hands and knees, keeping one arm wrapped around the device as if protecting a child. Breaking through the other side was like a backhanded compliment for success. The smell of decay and heat turned her stomach. She hated this part of the escape, wading through the waste of the city. The row of pallets floating atop the muck did little to keep her from feeling like she was one step away from swimming in crap.
“Come on, girl. Don’t look down,” she whispered, cradling the device tighter in her arms and trying desperately to not breathe too deep. The funk uppercut was repulsive, but she knew blowing chunks now would slow her down and if she didn’t rendezvous with the ship, she would be left behind. “Faster. Faster.” A new mantra to distract her from the negativity surrounding her.
Several minutes later, free from the swamp of trash, she was on the tarmac of the port. The ships were huge, reaching skyward for their own version of escape from this terrible place. The mighty hulls glistening in the sunlight were a reminder that she was just a speck in the universe. A reminder she didn’t need, not now, or ever.
“It’s about time, kid. We were about to leave you,” a man said as he exited a transport nestled between two ships. Hiding in plain sight was the trick to getting in close without being caught. To Tawny, it was reckless, but what did she know.
“The alarm sounded twenty seconds before we planned. It was all downhill from there, Thenden,” she replied, glancing back at the wall expecting to see the armed men barreling through at any moment.
He took the device from her and inspected it. “It’s bigger than I was expecting.”
“I thought the same thing,” Tawny said, looking back at him. “So, do I get passage to Medua?”
Thenden exhaled with a smirk. “Yeah, you did good, kid. We can take you to Medua, but we have to stop at Ukrainias first. It’s on the way.”
“Whatever. I’m just glad to get off this rock.” She kicked up dust and crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the fatigue in her muscles catching up to her. I could sleep a week, she thought. After a hot shower.
“Let’s go. Drake will want us to secure this before we take off,” Thenden said, turning back to the transport.
Tawny followed him inside, not needing to duck her head the way Thenden did as they made their way to the cockpit. The Saharan Dream was in orbit, circling the planet once every seventy-nine minute
s. They had to get off deck in the next three minutes. It was a tight launch plan, but if these guys made a living doing this, she knew they would make it. Worst case, they hung out in the dark for a while.
Thenden strapped the device into a hold under the deck, behind the pilot’s chair, before slumping into his seat and pulling a headset over his ears. “You better strap in, I already did the preflight. I’m igniting and flying.”
Tawny did as she was told, thankful to finally be on her way off Jhont. It had been too long planning for this moment, and the feeling of relief didn’t really wash over her the way she expected. If anything, she was more anxious than ever, gratitude for the situation doing little to put her at ease. “Will we make it?”
Thenden scoffed. “I always make it,” he replied with a grin. “I’m the best pilot in the Chancerian Sector, bar none.”
She’d heard that before.
Thenden ignited the engine of the transport and Tawny watched the indicators illuminate. Within a few seconds, the display revealed fuel flow, engine RPM, and exhaust gas temperature. She had no idea what the limitations were, or if Thenden paid them any attention before he lifted the craft from the deck.
On its ascent, the ship shook and popping sounds like rivets breaking loose filled the small cockpit. She gripped the armrest of her seat and watched as her knuckles whitened, not wanting to look at anything that might reveal their imminent demise. It did little to calm her nerves as visions of a fiery plume rocketing back towards the ground filled her mind.
She grit her teeth, focusing on the tingle of discomfort instead.
“How long until we’re out of atmosphere?” Tawny asked, unable to control the tremble in her voice.
“Less than two minutes if we continue at this rate,” Thenden answered, one hand on the throttles and the other on the stick. Manual takeoff kept the computer of the transport from networking with ground control, thereby keeping them anonymous. It also alerted the authorities of an unauthorized launch, which meant they were seconds away from being targeted by swarm drones and shot out of the sky.
“You have forty-five seconds before they launch. Do you really think we can make it?”
“Tawny, I’ve got this,” Thenden snapped back, not angrily, but focused. When she glanced in his direction, she could see a bead of sweat on his forehead as he fought the transport’s controls. The redundancy systems kept trying to kick on to comply with flight laws, but once ground control had their information, there was nothing keeping the authorities from tracking them later.
It was the veritable rock meeting the hard place.
Piracy didn’t always pay.
“Please go faster,” she pleaded, not directed at Thenden, but at whatever invisible god could grant mercy at such a time. Old Earth had plenty of them to spread around; she wasn’t picky.
“I need to dump fuel,” Thenden said under his breath.
Tawny dared a peek at the indicator and realized their rate of climb was slowing, the air too thick as they passed through the thermosphere layer of this dirty planet’s atmosphere. Her fingers found their way to the console in front of her. She could see the swarm drones already locked onto them.
“Wait, if we dump now, then we won’t climb fast enough to evade the drones.”
Thenden looked down at her like she was stupid. “Seriously, we can’t outrun them now. I’m dumping.”
“No, we can use the fuel as a weapon. Drench the drones and burn them when you go into afterburner. The air is thick enough to have enough oxygen to keep the fire blazing.”
Thenden shook his head and she could tell he hated her idea, but without countermeasures, they were sitting ducks. He sighed. “If we die, it’s on you.”
She smirked despite the rampaging fear in her gut. She was a problem solver. That was why the crew agreed to bring her on to pay for her passage. And this was just another problem requiring her skills.
“I’ll calculate the timing of the dump and you get ready to burn hard. If any of the drones get close enough to scorch, then they’ll also be in weapons range.”
Thenden rolled his eyes next to her. “I should have read the fine print, eh, Tawny?”
“I suppose I should have mentioned that before giving them enough time to close in. Either way, in the next twenty seconds, this will be a firefight,” she said, glaring up at the screen and running the math in her head. Twice.
Tawny cracked her neck and placed her hands on the console, taking slow and steady breaths as she watched the incoming swarm drones close in.
“Just tell me when—”
She shushed him, her eyes narrowing into slits as she watched the screen intently. Counting down in her head from five, her finger hovered over the fuel dump switch until they were in range. She slammed the switch forward, releasing hundreds of pounds of fuel like a geyser as it shot from the tail end of the transport. “Now!” she ordered.
Thenden jammed the throttles forward. The explosion of fuel erupting behind them propelled the transport forward. Climbing faster, Tawny watched the screen as the swarm drones faded from view. All but one.
“No.”
Thenden cut his eyes to her as the thrust pushed him deep into his seat. “What, no?”
She lifted a trembling finger to the screen, the exertion of lifting her arm under so many G-forces comparable to lifting her own bodyweight with one hand. “We didn’t get them all,” she replied.
“We’re out of range, so maybe we can evade. Once we’re out of Jhont’s atmosphere, we should be fine. Those things can’t fly in space, right?”
“No, they can. They just typically don’t make it that far because they successfully take the target down before it comes to that.”
“Well, crap,” Thenden muttered, initiating a tight beam message to the ship. “Saharan Dream, Thenden, come in.”
“Thenden, what’s going on?” Drake answered a few moments later.
“We have the device, but the swarm drones were launched, and we ditched all but one of them. We might need some assistance,” he said back into the radio.
“We can’t dock with you if you’re under fire. I don’t know what to tell you,” Drake replied.
Tawny exhaled, anger flushing her face. “Tell him that if we fly past them, they can blast the drone and neutralize the threat. We can rendezvous an hour later, once it’s safe.”
Thenden cut his eyes to her, revealing that his fingers had already depressed the comm-switch and his captain had heard her.
“What, I’m supposed to take orders from a kid now?” Drake barked, irritation dripping from his voice. She could just imagine his weaselly, pink face going flush from anger and it made her smirk, if only for a second.
“It sounds like a solid plan, boss. I’m not trying to stay in this can longer than I have to, and we don’t have a way to destroy the drone.” Thenden’s voice was high, nervous.
“Standby,” Drake ordered, leaving his comm keyed so they could hear him discussing the plan with another member of the crew. When he returned, his tone shifted slightly. “It looks like it’s your lucky day. Smythe thinks he can nail the drone with the railgun once it gets close enough. Without needing to get a lock on it, we won’t give away who we are. Just buzz by under us and slow down to let the drone close in.”
“It’s risky,” Tawny said.
A scoff on the other end of the radio sounded. “Tell the kid I’m the captain, will you, Thenden?”
“Yes, sir. He’s the captain,” Thenden replied, glancing at Tawny with a smirk. His face reddened under the strain of pulling G’s, but he still had his childish sense of humor. It was hard for Tawny to imagine he was almost twice her age.
“We’ll go with her plan, but I don’t want her thinking she runs this ship. Get me, Tawny?” Drake said with a shifty tone. Why he was so concerned with making every decision on the ship was beyond her, but she knew better than to start an argument about leadership when she didn’t have a place in the crew.
“Yes, sir
,” she replied, curbing her sarcasm to keep from bruising the man’s ego.
“We’re heading your way now, Captain,” Thenden said into the comm before placing it back on it’s mount and gripping the control stick. Behind them, the swarm drone closed the gap, accelerating with a vengeance. “This is going to be close, isn’t it?”
Tawny nodded with a grunt as Thenden increased thrust. She meant to say yes, but all that came out was a gasp of air as the pressure felt like an elephant standing on her chest.
She maintained visual with the drone behind them, using the sensory arrays to track its movements as the transport scorched towards the mothership. Even in the vacuum of space, she could see the reflection of light from their exhaust plume on camera. The cobalt blue of the exhaust cone was mesmerizingly beautiful to her. It reminded Tawny of her father’s eyes.
“We see you, Thenden. Maintain course. We’re preparing the railgun now.” Drake’s voice sounded like it was coming from a can, but Tawny knew it was just the pressure in her ears as her heart pounded. Up ahead, a flickering light shone in their direction as the Saharan Dream loomed before them. She could see the bilge open where the railgun was mounted, and fear coursed through her veins ruthlessly. If the projectile hit the transport, there would be nothing left of them. She imagined it would be a quick way to go unless she survived long enough to experience space without protection.
It was her worst fear. Not necessarily dying but dying like that.
“It’s getting closer,” she whispered under the strain.
“He wants it to,” Thenden replied.
“We better hope they pull the trigger before it does,” she said, the worry coloring her voice into a whine. She hated that sound. She was taught to be stronger than that.
Thenden grabbed the comm with one hand as he fought the stick with the other. “Are we close enough yet? That drone can fire at any second.”
“Standby,” Drake squawked on the radio.
Tawny sucked in a breath, resisting the urge to slam the throttles forward to lengthen the distance between them and the drone, but she knew she would catch all sorts of hell from Thenden. She couldn’t afford it.
The Expanding Universe 4: Space Adventure, Alien Contact, & Military Science Fiction (Science Fiction Anthology) Page 27