The captain said more, but Riker didn’t hear the rest as he slipped into blessed unconsciousness.
-17-
Maddox opened the flitter’s emergency kit. It had a small diagnostic compu-doctor, a round device a little heavier than his fist. The captain pressed it against the sergeant’s chest.
The medikit flashed red—not a good sign. Then, it injected Riker with various antibiotics and painkillers. Afterward, it gave a medical readout on a tiny screen.
Maddox examined the report, slowly climbing to his feet afterward.
“How bad is it?” Keith asked.
“We have to get him up to Geronimo or he’ll die.”
“So…?”
Maddox took several steps away from the prone sergeant, thinking hard. Riker had a fever and debilitating funguses or spores mutating in his body. Geronimo had a larger and more advanced medikit than the one here. It might save the sergeant—if they left immediately. The longer he waited, the less chance Riker had for survival.
Maddox seethed inwardly, although nothing showed on his face. Sergeant Riker was a good man, if too tepid on too many occasions. Still, the sergeant was good with a gun, resourceful when it counted and levelheaded. Yet Maddox couldn’t fly him up this instant. He had to find Doctor Rich first. The space beacon was ticking, and soon it wouldn’t matter what happened. They had to leave the Loki System, sooner being better than later.
Maddox didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was going to have to risk Riker’s life. He owed the sergeant his, but— Is this how I repay him?
It had been a poor idea to send Riker to Loki Prime. O’Hara must have believed she was protecting the sergeant from Octavian Nerva. If the sergeant had remained on Earth, Nerva’s hitmen would have slain Riker in retaliation for Caius Nerva’s death.
“Sir,” Keith said, sounding worried. “He’s moaning.”
Maddox stroke back to Riker. He bent on one knee, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. It radiated heat.
Riker opened a bleary eye. Slowly, he moistened his dry lips. “Doctor Rich…she’s higher on the mountain, sir. She’s tough. Stronger tribes live higher.”
“Ah,” Maddox said. “I think I understand. Lower on Loki Prime is swampier, meaning worse spores.”
“Right,” Riker whispered. “And, sir—”
“I’m listening, Sergeant.”
“They’re…excellent woodsmen. If not, they die.” Riker tried to say more. His eye closed before he could speak. Shivering, he collapsed back into unconsciousness.
“What’s that mean?” Keith asked. “What he said.”
Maddox stood, and he tapped his chin with a forefinger. He raised his head, examining the trees and the gloomy light. He listened to the nearby river churn. Closer to them, insects hummed. He kept slapping his skin, killing them. The bugs were bigger here, more insistent than the mosquitoes on Earth. Fortunately, both Ensign Maker and he had taken shots before leaving the scout. Riker likely had, too, before ejection, but nothing helped against worse spores in the lowlands.
“What are we going to do, sir?” Keith asked.
Maddox turned around. He couldn’t abandon Sergeant Riker to his fate and he couldn’t let Doctor Rich slip through his fingers. In times like this, Maddox had found a bold front achieved the best results. He was dealing with the worst scoundrels of the Oikumene. The higher tribes of criminals were the tougher ones. That would also mean smarter. They had nothing to lose. No, that was wrong. One could always die. His flitter and weapons represented incredible wealth to these people.
Yes, yes, he would have to use their avarice against them. Greed blinded people. Scam-artists used greed against normal individuals. They offered the victim riches and ended up fleecing them instead.
The conditions down here were dreadful. The citizens of Loki Prime led awful lives. Yet he had to keep in mind that each of these inmates was a criminal of the lowest sort. Everything demanded speed. Therefore, he must take chances and he must practice ruthlessness.
“We should leave,” Keith said. “These insects are eating me alive.”
Maddox regarded the pilot. Keith wiped a gunk-stained palm on his pants.
A killer idea blossomed then. Maddox knew exactly how he would use the inmates’ cupidity against them. It wasn’t his first choice, but it might be his only one at this point. Failing on Loki Prime meant the New Men would win by default.
No. I’m not going to let that happen.
“Hurry, Ensign,” Maddox said. “Help me stow the sergeant in the flitter, in the back.”
“We’re leaving the planet?” Keith asked.
“Not yet,” Maddox said. “We’re departing this spot. We’re going higher up the mountain.”
***
Soon enough, Maddox felt relief as the flitter’s canopy slid shut. The flyer’s air-conditioner hummed, taking away the humid, rotten-smelling atmosphere.
“We should have brought breathers,” Maddox said.
“Our injections will see us through, right?” Keith asked.
Sergeant Riker groaned pitifully from the back.
Keith’s eyes widened, and he massaged his chest. “Bloody spores are in our lungs, eh, mate? They’re mutating. I can feel them.”
“He’s been here for days,” Maddox said. “We’ll go through a complete scrub once we’re back on Geronimo. We’ll be fine.”
“Do you really believe that, Captain?”
Before Maddox could answer, red blips appeared on the flitter’s screen in the dash. The captain’s brow furrowed as he examined them more closely.
Keith snapped off the answer, “Missiles,” he said. “They’re coming down fast.”
“We’ve been spotted?” Maddox asked.
Keith’s finger roved over the controls. “I don’t think so. There’s no radar lock-on. Are they heat-seeking missiles or radar directed?”
“Compared to the land around us, how much heat are we giving off?”
Ensign Maker had been lifting, bringing them above the trees. Now he lowered back among the giant branches in a hurry.
“It should be harder for the missiles to hit us if we’re almost on the ground.” Keith brayed a sharp laugh. “That’ll be the day, mate, they can knock me down so easily.”
Perplexed, realizing the odds for success had plunged even more drastically, Maddox wondered what had given them away.
“What’s your pleasure, Captain?”
Maddox glanced at the pilot, unsure what Keith meant.
“Where should we go, sir?”
“Head up the mountain,” Maddox said.
“Jolly good, sir.”
Maddox kept one eye on the screen and the other on the terrain. The flitter was small enough to weave among the branches of the giant trees. They glided through a gloomy world. Each insect cloud maintained its own flock of bat-things darting through them.
Soon, the trees became smaller, the branches closer together.
“I’m going to have to lift above the treetops, sir,” Keith said. “This is too dense.”
Maddox nodded, trying to keep a sense of futility at bay. What had he done wrong? Had the destroyer changed the security codes? That didn’t seem right. A Commonwealth penal service ship would have done that, not a Star Watch vessel.
Keith hovered over a tree, and he glanced at Maddox. “What’s it going to be, sir?”
“How far out are those missiles?”
“Two minutes from impact, Captain.”
“Let’s wait here a moment. We’ll use the trees for cover at the last minute.”
“Will the orbitals keep sending more if the first ones fail?”
That seemed likely. Maddox wondered if there was a way to simulate the flitter’s destruction. There was no time for that. Was there any possibility now of leaving Loki Prime?
The seconds ticked too slowly. Waiting for death was always hard.
“I’ll be prodded and poked, Bloke,” Keith said. “Look! The missiles aren’t heading for u
s.”
“What?” Maddox asked. “Are you certain?”
“I know how to read a fighter screen, sir.”
Maddox studied the small panel and didn’t know what the ace saw that he didn’t.
“Higher up the mountain, sir. That’s where the missiles are headed?”
“Why?” asked Maddox.
“I have no idea, Captain. Why do the orbitals launch missiles in the first place?”
Maddox wrestled with the concept. Riker kept coughing and moaning in back. The man sounded terrible.
The flitter lifted. Maddox stared at the pilot.
“Want to see what’s happening, sir,” Keith said. “That’s how you beat your enemy. Can’t just sit in the dark and hope for luck. You have to see his tactic in order to conjure up a counter.”
Enemy, Maddox said silently. We have to defeat our enemy. He snapped his fingers.
As he did, he saw a black object streak down. It headed for a place higher on the mountain. Keith had been right. Then the missile disappeared into the trees. A second later, light expanded, and a cloud billowed into view. A second missile streaked down. It too created light and debris, seemingly hitting the same spot.
“Those orbitals mean business,” Keith said with a low whistle.
“None of the missiles were directed at us,” Maddox said.
“If they were, it was piss poor targeting.”
“In answer to your question,” Maddox said. “The orbitals search for high tech, demolishing it. If we didn’t have our clearance, we’d already be dead.”
Keith engaged the flitter’s controls, sliding toward the missile strike.
“The conditions here are not favorable for creating high technology in the first place,” Maddox said. “Secondly, the strike came during our time on the planet. Is that a coincidence?”
“Wouldn’t bet the farm on it, Captain,” Keith said.
“Neither would I. In my line of work, there are few coincidences.”
“So let’s say the natives didn’t build a high-tech toy the orbital programs objected to,” Keith said. “What else would they launch at?”
A grim feeling spread across Maddox’s chest. The Saint Petersburg had come to Loki Prime. Back in Earth orbit, the destroyer had failed to beam down a Nerva drone fired at the scout. Immediately upon Keith’s destruction of the offending drone, the destroyer’s comm officer had demanded the Geronimo stay where it was. Maddox had refused, and the destroyer fired a laser at them. Now the same destroyer was at Loki Prime. Orbitals watching for high technology had just barraged the area he—Maddox—was heading to. Why did the missiles hit there? What was there they would attack?
“Doctor Dana Rich,” Maddox said.
“What’s that, sir?”
“The Saint Petersburg must have sent down a landing party to grab Dana Rich. Remember, in Glasgow a sniper fired at us?”
“I hadn’t run so fast for a long time,” Keith said. “I remember the crawly piece of slime, all right.”
“How did the sniper know ahead of time to be there in Glasgow?” Maddox asked. “Someone else must have the Lord High Admiral’s list. You were on the list. And Dana Rich is on it, and she’s partway up the mountain. That’s why the missiles slammed down there.”
“Do you think she’s dead?” Keith asked. “Do you think they’re trying to murder her, whoever they are?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Maddox said. “You see the smoke? That’s where we’re going—now.”
***
In retrospect, Maddox realized he should have reasoned things out a little more carefully. Maybe his need for speed blunted his judgment. Maybe the lowland spores attacking his immune system dulled his thinking. In any regard, he flew straight into an ambush.
Keith Maker glided low over the treetops, nearing the black smoke. Flames appeared ahead, licking skyward. Maddox checked his gun before holstering it. Leaning back, he saw that Sergeant Riker slept fitfully. Small spumes of red trickled from the sergeant’s nose. That wasn’t blood. It would have been better if it had been. What had Riker said, red rot? That was an apt name.
“For the love of Pete!” Keith shouted. “Will you look at that, matey. I mean Captain, sir.”
Maddox saw it, and worry erupted in spades. A Star Watch shuttle—correction, a smoking wreck of a shuttle—had been blown onto its side. The vehicle had gaping holes and crumpled areas. It would never lift off again. The dead were strewn around it, many of them missing limbs, some in Star Watch uniforms, some not.
Huts crackled with flames, and people crawled or dragged themselves in the outer area of the tree-blasted ground. Some looked up at them. A few of those shook their fists. One woman raised a flintlock. A puff of smoke a second later indicated she shot at them.
What the—
Maddox froze, unwilling to believe what he saw. One of the dead on the ground was unlike the others. In life, he would have been taller than the average human. That wasn’t what made Maddox’s gut twist. It was the color of the skin—golden. A New Man lay dead on the ground down there.
Questions flooded Maddox’s brain. How had the invader gotten here? The likeliest explanation was aboard a Saint Petersburg shuttle. If there was one invader, couldn’t that mean there were more? Did the New Men command the Star Watch destroyer? If so, how had they maneuvered that? Maddox wondered if they should land beside the New Man. He could take a sample, a slice of skin or clot up some blood on a rag. Later, he could test the DNA. Then, finally, he could learn if he was part New Man.
“Blimey!” Keith shouted. He banked away hard, turning from the burning village.
That threw Maddox against the flitter’s canopy. He heard heavy gunfire from below. The flitter shuttered. Something starred the bubble on the pilot’s side.
“What’s happening?” Maddox shouted, who couldn’t see because of his lousy angle.
“A woman’s firing at us,” Keith said. “I think she hit our underbelly.”
“Firing a musket?”
“A heavy repeater, mate! Now for the love of Saint Francis, shut your yapper, Captain, sir. I’m taking us down for a controlled crash, and I’m going to need all my concentration to do it.”
-18-
The flitter bucked like a wild horse. Maddox clung to his harness and managed to look back at Riker. The sergeant flew in disorder, banging his head, smashing his shins.
“This is it!” Keith shouted.
Maddox looked ahead again. A huge tree filled his view. They were going to crash head on. At the last second, Keith turned them sideways, dodging death as metal screeched. They must have shaved the underbelly of the flitter against tree bark. Clunking sounds emitted from the engine. Smoke poured from the panel.
“Come on, you filthy pimp,” Keith said. “Keep it going just a little longer. You won’t regret it, I promise.”
The pilot dodged another tree and slowed the flyer. Then branches blurred around them, striking the bubble canopy. The tough dome held, and finally, the Tau Ceti strikefighter-ace brought them down against a giant crackly bush.
Keith brayed with triumphant laughter, and he stabbed a button. The canopy slid open, letting in the planet’s jungle smells.
“I did it, sir. We’re down in one piece.”
Feelings of disaster pulsed through Maddox’s heart. Oh, they were down all right, on Loki Prime, the prison planet no one had ever escaped.
You’re still alive, Maddox told himself. The scout is up there. Let’s not quit until you’re coughing up your final bit of blood.
“Excellent work, Ensign,” Maddox said. “I’m doubling your salary.”
“You mean doubling my share of the prize money, sir.”
“That’s right. Now give me a hand. We have to move the sergeant.”
The smile drained from Keith’s round face. Realization of their predicament spread across his features.
“We just crash-landed on Loki Prime,” the ensign said. “There’s a woman with an automatic ri
fle down there. Do you think the people from the shuttle came to this place to arrest you?”
“No such luck, I’m afraid,” Maddox said. “Now help me with him.”
“Why?” Keith asked. “He’s probably better off where he is. We can’t dart around if he’s weighing us down.”
A harsh rebuke died on Maddox’s lips. The ace had a point. He could hear people coming.
“It’s time for a strategic retreat,” Maddox said. “Grab a pack and follow me.”
The two rummaged in back. Maddox avoided looking at the unconscious sergeant. It wasn’t fair leaving him like this, but Maker was right, the sergeant would be safer in the flitter.
“I’ll return,” Maddox whispered. Then he jumped out of the flitter and faded into the undergrowth. Keith followed hard on his heels.
Maddox halted and studied the terrain around him. The trees lacked the immense height of those in the lowlands. The ground felt firmer, drier. There were fewer insects and less strange funguses sprouting from the soil and tree trunks. He needed the flitter. Its radio could reach the Geronimo. That was his only way off Loki Prime now. He wanted to double-back, hide and see who came to his flyer. Instead, he started racing downhill again. He needed to sneak up on his hunters when they weren’t tracking him. He needed an edge.
“Wait a minute, will you?” Keith panted. “I can’t keep up with you.”
Maddox debated leaving the ace behind. Ruthlessness, remember? He couldn’t do it. Leaving the sergeant had been hard enough. That had been the logical move. Abandoning his crew—no, he wouldn’t do that. Without honor, winning didn’t matter.
Indicating a place behind a tree, he showed the pilot where to crouch. Since the man’s heavy breathing made listening difficult, Maddox moved several feet away. The intervening growth muted the noise.
Maddox bent his head, straining to hear what he could. Indistinct voices spoke in the distance. He needed to see who it was. Without intelligence, he couldn’t formulate a sound plan.
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