by Rod Walker
“Lysokos might have locked the quadcopter,” said Mr. Royale. “Sometimes the EcoMin quads require encrypted keys to unlock the controls.”
“True,” said Tanner. “Fortunately, Lysokos is dead, so I don’t think he’ll complain too loudly if we take his stuff.”
“Then I suggest,” said Mr. Royale, “that we continue this conversation in flight.”
We paused long enough to loot the corpses of Lysokos and his men for weapons and ammunition, and to look for the encryption keys. When Mr. Royale mentioned them, I thought it had been a file stored on an external drive or something. It turned out it was a big metal key with a black flat head. Evidently, the encryption key was stored within the key’s head. I admit that looting the corpses felt ghoulish, but since Lysokos was the same kind of murderous freak looking for kicks as Toulon, I didn’t feel too guilty about it.
Once we finished, we boarded the quadcopter, making sure to close and lock the doors behind us, which made us marginally safer. The tromosaurs were clever enough to find a way inside if given enough time, thought hopefully, we would be in the air before that happened… or before a passing tankstrider happened to flatten us on its way to sample some promising foliage.
Mulger took the pilot’s seat, and I settled into the co-pilot’s chair, blinking at the controls. Tanner, Mr. Royale, Charles, Argent, and Thompkins took the passenger cabin behind us.
“Right,” said Mulger. “What do you think?”
“Hmm,” I said, looking over the controls. “I wish Hobson was still alive to do this.”
“What?” said Mulger.
“Never mind,” I said. I had flown some of the Safari Company’s aerial drones, so I knew the basics. Of course, the difference between a flight drone and a quadcopter was like the difference between a popgun and a rocket launcher. Hopefully, Mulger knew what he was doing. “All right. Let’s see. There, the console’s unlocked now, and I’ll start the preflight check on the engines.”
Mulger nodded and started flipping switches. More lights blinked to life on the control board, and I heard a whine as the engines started up. I checked the pressure levels, the fuel flow, the temperatures, and the rotor status, and everything came up green. Maybe it wasn’t that much different from repairing Uncle Morgan’s autonomous tractors after all.
“So,” said Tanner from the passenger cabin. I listened with half an ear as I went through the rest of the preflight checklist. “Since we’re waiting to take off, you might as well tell us the rest of the story.”
“Very well,” said Argent. “As I said, the Security Ministry has been after Valier for a long time. Recently, however, the political situation on New Princeton has made his position precarious.”
“Political situation?” said Charles.
“The Acadarchy is broke,” said Mr. Royale. “They’ve been running a deficit for decades, and no one will lend them money.”
“Correct,” said Argent. “The money has just about run out. Simply put, there are drastic changes coming to New Princeton, and a lot of things are going to have to be cut. The Ecology Ministry is powerful, but it doesn’t bring in any revenues. They have simply run out of businesses to fine. So to save his career and his power, Valier needs another source of revenue, and fast.”
“Hence the Safari Company,” said Tanner.
“The technical legal term in interstellar law for what Valier is attempting to set up on Arborea is ‘interstellar human trafficking for purposes of sport-based homicide’,” said Argent.
“Something of a mouthful,” said Mr. Royale.
“Indeed,” said Argent. “Unfortunately, that mouthful is depressingly common. Societies tend to develop a taste for blood sports in their declining stages, and there are an abundance of people with more money than scruples. This kind of thing tends to happen often in interstellar space, in places where no government or NGO holds sway. Refurbished asteroid mines, abandoned space stations, derelict ice tankers, and so forth. A client can visit a place like that and buy people to do whatever he wants to them. Hunting them for sport is one of the more popular options. What Valier is trying to do here is simply that on a larger and more extravagant scale.”
“How are the fuel pumps?” said Mulger.
“Looking good,” I said, looking at the control panel. I wanted to listen to Tanner’s conversation with Argent, but I decided it was probably a higher priority to help Mulger make sure we didn’t crash. “Green.”
“Good,” said Mulger. He raised his voice. “Strap in, people. We are taking off.”
He began flipping switches, and the whine of the engines grew louder.
“So, let’s hear it,” said Tanner, “Do you have a plan or not?”
“I have a plan,” said Argent. “And I’ll need your help.”
Mulger gripped the throttles, and the quadcopter shivered, lifting from the ground and into the air, turning slowly as it gained altitude.
“Watch out for the trees,” I said. “If we hit one of those big branches it’ll shear the blades right off the propellers.”
“Right,” said Mulger. “I think we’ll head up through gaps in the layers until we get through the top canopy.”
“I’ll watch the radar and the cams,” I said, flipping switches to bring up the displays.
“Once we clear the canopy, we’ll head back to Outpost Town,” said Mulger.
And then what?
I kept my eye on the radar and camera screen, listening as Argent explained his plan to Tanner.
“Our orders were to investigate Valier’s plans on Arborea,” said Argent, “and to take action if necessary.”
“If you wanted to take action,” said Tanner, “you should have brought more than five men.”
“I did,” said Argent. “I landed planetside on Royale’s ship. What we didn’t mention to anyone is that a Security Ministry gunship followed us into the system.”
“How many men are on that ship?” said Mr. Royale.
“Not counting the crew, seventy-five combat officers,” said Argent. “All of them equipped with battle armor. The gunship’s armaments include a full complement of space-to-ground missiles as well as orbital artillery. If need be, we can take over Outpost Town with minimal casualties.”
“Minimal casualties,” said Tanner. “To yourselves? Or to the Safari Company personnel?”
“Both, I hope. But given that Valier plans to hunt Safari personnel for sport, I’d say that minimal casualties is at this point the best case scenario for the company.”
“Fine,” said Tanner. “So we call up your friends and deal with Valier.”
“There is our difficulty,” said Argent. “Because of the political sensitivity of coming after the Ecology Minister, it was vitally important that no one knew the gunship was here. The gunship entered via the outer system and is currently parked in a high orbit behind Arborea’s moon.”
“Which is well out of the range of any handheld communication devices,” said Charles.
“Right,” said Argent. “The plan was that I would land, take a look around, and communicate to the gunship if any action was needed. Unfortunately, we didn’t realize that Valier’s plans were so far advanced.”
“So you need a transmitter strong enough to reach to your men on the ship,” said Tanner. “Which means breaking into the communications room in the administrative building at Outpost Town, and that is now almost certainly in the hands of Valier and his men.”
“You summarize the problem admirably well,” said Argent.
“Spraycan!” said Tanner. “Is there any way we can rig up a transmitter? Something powerful enough to reach the ship?”
“What?” I said, trying to concentrate on the displays as Mulger eased the quadcopter up. We were five hundred feet off the ground by now, but the branches were no less thick. “No. Probably not. We don’t have the right equipment. Arborea’s magnetic field is too powerful, and you need a pretty powerful transmitter to punch through it and get past the atmosphere.”
>
“So you need better equipment,” said Mr. Royale.
“Yes,” said Argent. “Specifically, we need to use the equipment in Outpost Town’s communications room to control the communications satellite Safari Company put in orbit to hail incoming ships. With that, we can contact the gunship and call for reinforcement. However many EMSO agents Valier has with him, they won’t be able to deal with seventy-five Security Ministry officers in battle armor.”
“Let’s hope not,” said Tanner.
“Where exactly is the communications room?” said Mr. Royale.
“In the administrative center, not far from Hoskins’ office,” said Tanner. “Valier and his men have probably taken over the building.”
“He did not bring that many men with him,” said Charles.
Tanner snorted. “He didn’t need to bother. That’s why he sent us all out on tours for the VIPs. Every single guide can handle weapons, and every single guide went up in the quads. We were the first round of victims for the biggest hunt of the century. Clever. He satisfies his first round of customers, wipes out the most dangerous opposition, and kills off any witnesses. Three birds in one.”
I wondered if Valier had slaughtered the Safari Company employees back at Outpost Town. Maybe he had kept them alive as captives. Or maybe he would drive them into the jungle for the second round of hunts.
“That is the most likely case,” said Argent. “This is our best chance to act, to save as many lives as possible, and to catch Valier with so much evidence against him that even he will not be able to wriggle out of the consequences this time. I suggest we return to Outpost Town, land the quad, and try to get into the comms room undetected.”
“That’s all, huh?” said Tanner. “You make it sound simple.”
“It’s very simple,” said Argent. I glanced back at Argent long enough to see the smile on his scarred face. “But simple isn’t the same as easy.”
“No,” said Tanner. “Spraycan! How we doing?”
I examined the radar display. “We’re just about through the last layer of the forest…”
Brilliant sunlight poured through the quadcopter’s canopy, and I blinked a few times to clear my eyes. We were hovering over the top of the highest branches of the jungle, the leaves sway beneath us in the wind from our rotors.
“So I see,” said Argent. “Mulger, take us back to Outpost Town.”
“Yes, sir,” said Mulger, and he turned the quadcopter around, flying over the jungle below.
Chapter 6: Complications
Once, a few weeks after I started working at Outpost Town, I asked Charles why he always over-prepared for hunting expeditions. I meant it as a joke, but back then I hadn’t realized that Hiram Charles did not actually have a sense of humor, and I got an earnest twenty-minute lecture for my trouble.
“Preparation is essential in all matters, Indentured Worker Hammond,” said Charles. “This is especially true in the jungle, where all forms of life have no fear of humans and most of the predators are eager to attack us. There we must prepare ourselves for all contingencies. Of course, we cannot anticipate every single thing that might go wrong, but the more thoroughly we prepare, the greater resources we have at our disposal for adapting to unexpected difficulties.”
I didn’t know if Charles was religious or not, but I strongly suspected his gods were Preparedness, Vigilance, and Diligence, and he served them as devotedly as any man ever served a deity. Given how often they had saved his life, it was hard to blame him.
Right about then, however, EcoMin’s lack of preparedness bit us, and bit us hard.
I don’t think Paul Valier had someone like Hiram Charles to advise him. If he had, he could have easily avoided a lot of problems. In all my interactions with Ecology Ministry people, I had noticed that they were not very good at actually getting things done. Sure, they were highly educated. Sure, they had a lot of degrees. Theresa’s mom had three herself. Her house had two bathrooms, and when I had first started seeing Theresa, she and her mother had constantly been fighting because the toilet was broken in one of them, and both Theresa and her mother needed a lot of time getting ready in the morning. The toilet had been broken for months, and neither Theresa nor her mother knew how to fix it or had even gotten around to arranging for someone to fix it. I repaired it in about an hour, and the sudden reduction in mother-daughter strife was probably the reason Theresa’s mother hadn’t tried to make her break up with me even sooner.
I suppose fixing that stupid toilet caused me a lot of trouble in the end.
So, the ecocrats weren’t that great on practical matters, or at thinking things through, which I realized when the radar display suddenly lit up with multiple contacts.
“Hey,” said Mulger, tearing his eyes from the canopy for a moment. He was doing a good job of flying the quadcopter, but I could tell it was a strain. “Those aren’t missiles, are they?”
“No, too slow,” I said, staring at the display. About thirty different radar contacts had risen from the forest about a kilometer to the west and were heading right for us. I have a lot of useful skills, but I didn’t know how to read a radar display beyond the basics. Nevertheless, I was pretty sure what they were. “Hey, Tanner, Charles? I think you’d better look at this.”
Tanner grunted and heaved himself out of the seat, standing behind the co-pilot’s chair, and Charles joined him a second later.
“This is a problem,” said Charles.
“Why? What is it?” said Argent. “Those don’t look like missiles or combat drones.”
“They’re aerials, aren’t they?” I said.
“Aerials?” said Mulger. “Like flying antennas?”
“No,” I said. “Much worse.”
“Flying predators,” said Charles. “Roughly equivalent to reptiles. They are quite strong and aggressive, and furthermore breathe a corrosive liquid that can even eat through reinforced metal, such as the armored hull of the quadcopter.”
Mulger said several bad words as the formation of aerials drew closer.
“They are easy to evade,” said Charles. “A simple chemical concoction repels they. We need only deploy that.”
“Yeah,” I said, looking at the lights and displays on the panel. “I don’t think this thing is equipped with a sprayer system. Do you see one?”
“What?” said Charles, quickly looking around the instruments. “This vehicle is not equipped with a chemical spraying system. Outrageous! What sort of idiot planned this expedition?” He sounded more offended by the oversight than the fact that the aerials would try to rip apart the quadcopter to eat us.
“Will they attack us?” said Argent.
“Most likely,” said Tanner. “That acidic cocktail they spit out can chew through the hull and start fires. Once we crash, they’ll peel open the hull, and eat us after we’re good and cooked.”
“Cooked?” said Argent.
“The acid breath,” said Charles. “They do not prefer to eat their meat raw.”
Argent shook his head. “This planet. Can we get away from them?”
“We should be able to,” said Charles. “What is the altitude ceiling on this vehicle?”
“Uh,” said Mulger. “I… don’t actually know.” He tapped a control, and a system readout came to life on one of the displays. “Looks like… two and a half kilometers.”
“Excellent,” announced Charles. “The aerials never ascend to higher than two or three hundred meters above the top of the jungle canopy. We merely need to climb above their range, and they won’t be able to follow. Eventually they will lose interest in us.”
“Sounds like a plan,” said Argent. “Do it, Mulger.”
“Sir,” said Mulger. He pulled a lever, and the roar of the rotors grew louder as the engines kicked to maximum, various gauges on my control panel inching towards the red. I felt the acceleration pressing me into the copilot’s seat, and I heard Tanner grunt as he shifted position to brace against the acceleration. The position of the contac
ts on the radar displayed started to change, and while I wasn’t sure what I was looking at, I nevertheless thought that the position of the aerials was changing relative to our position. That meant they were staying at the same height while we were flying higher.
At least, I hoped that was what it meant.
“I think it’s working!” said Mulger, flipping some more switches. Even with our earpieces, he had to shout to make himself heard over the howl of the engines. “Some of them are following us, but they aren’t coming any higher and it looks like they’re beginning to lose interest.”
“Head towards Outpost!” said Tanner.
“Won’t they just follow us?” said Argent.
“They may,” said Charles, “but the HVAC systems of the buildings of Outpost Town regularly emit a burst of the repelling chemical. The aerials will not follow us inside the perimeter.”
“Head in a high arc towards Outpost Town,” said Argent. “We can descend and put down in the cleared area around the town.”
Thompkins scowled. “We will be vulnerable to the town’s anti-aircraft defenses. If Valier’s men are manning them, they’ll bring us down.”
“Outpost Town doesn’t have any anti-aircraft defenses,” said Tanner. “EcoMin wouldn’t allow it when they authorized this place. I suppose Valier didn’t want any of his victims fighting back.”
“Anti-aircraft defenses aren’t cheap,” observed Mr. Royale. “I expect they blew most of their budget on the anti-monster defenses.”
“I don’t see that we have any choice, gentlemen,” said Argent. “If we descend towards the canopy and land in the jungle, those aerial things will swarm us. Our best course is to descend in an arc from our current altitude and into the airspace over Outpost Town.”
“I would rather put down in the jungle a kilometer or so from Outpost Town,” said Tanner. “We could make our way on foot to Outpost Town undetected, and it would be easier to traverse a kilometer of the tromosaur-infested jungle than fifteen.”
Argent shrugged. “If the aerials stop following us, perhaps we can try it.”