DarkStar Running (Living on the Run Book 2)

by Ben Patterson

  “Safety? We’ll be careful. Your folks should meet their grandchildren.”

  “I want to see my folks. You know I do, but there are heavy emotional issues that will take time to work through.”

  “We’ve had five years.”

  “But they haven’t. My folks don’t even know I’m alive.”

  “But Honey, you are alive, and they must be told. There’s no way to ease them into any of this information, but they should know we’re married, and that they are grandparents.”

  “I know, and as important as those things are, Stan, that’s not the main issue. We are not the same people that we were back then.”

  “Sure. Because of time . . . and the ultimate Architect.”

  Lilia dropped her gaze. “And DarkStar, and what she did to us.”

  Stan lifted her chin to meet him eye to eye. “Lilia, that’s not what’s holding you back. Your fear goes beyond explaining DarkStar to them. What’s wrong?”

  “I know you, Stan. You won’t let your past stay in the past. Before we meet my folks, you need to settle this Emperor’s Princess thing in your own heart. You are not to blame.”

  “How could I not be to blame? I led the mission. I flew the lead Dart. I released the torpedo that sent the Princess careening into the atmosphere. Even so . . .” Stan tightened his grip on her hands. “. . . your family deserves to be told you didn’t die.”

  She watched his lips thin in displeasure at the situation that kept them at odds, but he kept his voice even. “When things settle down, somewhere along the line, we have to see your folks.”

  “I’ve made up my mind that a meeting with my parents isn’t going to happen, at least not anytime soon. Back to business. We have a mission to think of.”

  Stan kissed her cheek and pushed away.

  Lilia knew where he was coming from. He hadn’t always been an honorable man, but he was trying, and he had made progress. He didn’t swagger anymore, mentally or physically. But he was a man not yet at peace with himself, his history; less so when facing anyone who might know his past. Problem was, he hadn’t yet tapped into a strength greater than his own. For five years she had tried to get him to understand the concept of the Immortal Architect’s forgiveness, but it hadn’t sunk in. He still needed . . .

  “You know what?” he said, “You’re right. We’re on a rescue mission, and we don’t need to be distracted right now. The Enforcers are out on a tear. The underground church is at risk.”

  She sighed and turned away to get ready.

  Stan caught her arm and turned her back around. “Don’t you ever step from this ship thinking you’re not my world. I love you.” He drew her close to hold her tight.

  Yes! she thought. We need this.

  “Hmm,” she cooed with a broad smile. “I could stay in your arms forever.”

  “If only people weren’t waiting to be rescued.” Clearly reluctant to let her go, he held her in his strong arms and tenderly kissed her.

  Just then, DarkStar touched down and relaxed into place . . . on Atheron. It was time to go.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Lilia Archer entered the alley. Two families, she told herself, just two families three little blocks away then it’s back to the ship. Glad their homes are close.

  Her condition wasn’t going to make her assignment easy. She ran a gentle hand over her enlarged belly, quieting the baby, and looked back to see her spaceship hidden amid the trees of the schoolyard. That meager covering and dusk, weren’t much, but it was all they had until DarkStar’s energy stores were recharged.

  If not for the fact that there were too many people to fetch and too few people to do the fetching, Lilia wouldn’t have participated in this rescue at all. She really didn’t like putting the baby in danger, but there simply was no other way. What if she went into labor when she was away from the ship? The thought of that possibility grumbled in the back of her mind.

  This run shouldn’t take long, but her maternity dress, though comfortable, wasn’t her preferred outfit for a rescue. She shook herself, and took a deep breath. Focus, girl, focus, she thought, straightening herself to concentrate on her assigned task. Alert to danger, she scanned the alley ahead, her fanny pack bouncing lightly on her hip as she walked.

  If things went as planned, she could make it to the first house well before Spirita arose. If not, the giant gas planet would remove the cover of night, leaving her and the others exposed to hostile eyes.

  As she neared the Barretts’ house, the unmistakable sounds of glass breaking and objects being slammed against walls said Confederate Enforcers had arrived ahead of her. She peeked through a bedroom window.

  A green clad soldier had tossed drawers and their contents everywhere and was now yanking clothes from the closet to search it also.

  Blasted Enforcers, she thought. Just once couldn’t things go smoothly?

  She crept to the open dining room window and hunkered down below it. Hidden from the street by a large bush, she slipped her TCP (Tactical Communications Pod) from the fanny pack. Careful to hide its screen’s glow with a cupped hand, she read the yellow-lettered text . . . Edward, Margery, and Jacob Barrett.

  From the TCP, Lilia launched a micro-fly and guided the tiny airborne camera into the room to rest where it could give her a clear view of everyone and everything.

  Crouched behind the bush, she assessed the situation. Ed Barrett sat at the table with his son, Jacob. Lilia saw abject fear in his eyes. Surely, as a follower, Ed knew this day was a possibility, but even a calm, difficult to provoke man would have been unnerved at the sight of a Mouser M-1-AH Hand-cannon aimed squarely at his teenage boy. Dinner, interrupted by the soldiers, was on the table, but no one had eaten.

  Although Margery, Ed’s wife, was behind and to one side of the officer, out of his line of sight, she was openly breaking the law. Her hands were raised heavenward, and her lips moving. There was no worse time to openly pray. If the Enforcer or either of his men saw her doing that, she was dead—she and her family.

  Lilia touched her TCP’s screen, switching it to her husband’s image, which swaying and jostling as he walked, his voice clear in her earpiece. “Yeah, hon. What’s up?”

  “Stan,” she whispered. “Enforcers have the Barretts. I can’t get past their house to the Oberlys without being seen.

  “How many Enforcers?”

  “Three.”

  “I shouldn’t have put you and the baby at risk, Lilia. Three Enforcers against you alone? I can’t have that. Abort the mission.”

  “Hon, I . . . I . . .”

  In the frame of her TCP, she could see Stan had stopped walking to talk. “Honey, they found Henderson’s Bible, and shot him and his wife.”

  Lilia gasped and glanced away. When she looked back, she could barely see the screen through her tears but pushed aside her anger to speak. “I’m not leaving. I’ll not let these idiots have the Barretts without a fight.” She pulled a gun from her fanny pack.

  “Lilia, there’s no one to back you up. Get back to the ship.”

  She raised her pistol to check the setting. “I’ll be careful, Stan. As always, baby comes first, but I’ll wait out the Enforcers and hope they don’t find anything incriminating.”

  “No, hon. I want you to—”

  She cut him off and switched to the micro-fly’s view of the Barretts and zoomed in. Her intention was to protect Jacob first, then Margery if it should come to that. Gripping her gun, she considered a shootout with the soldiers. Only as a last resort, she told herself.

  “Lord,” Lilia whispered, “please answer Margery. Give her a reason to drop her hands.”

  Of the Barretts, Jacob had the greatest need. The Enforcer’s standard issue rifle, a weapon without a stun setting, was leveled squarely at the teen’s forehead. But that didn’t make sense. Why target the boy and not his father who sat near him? What kind of a threat did the kid pose? Was the gangly fifteen-year-old the greater risk to the officer and his men? Nevertheless th
e gun didn’t waiver.

  Blood-gang! Lilia gasped. Revenge-minded teens—vicious sewer rats banding together—now posed the principal danger to Enforcers in cities everywhere; even to these heavily armed troopers despite their traveling in three-man strike teams like these men. Could this young kid really be a blood-gang member?

  “You’re right, Dad,” Jacob said. “Enforcers are cool. Is that a real Mouser M-1-AH Hand-cannon, mister?”

  What? Lilia’s focus narrowed on the confusing teenager. He sounds as if he wants to be an Enforcer. Was that the reason Mom was praying? Her son wants to be an Enforcer?

  Ed’s voice quivered. “I’m tellin’ ya, boy, that’s the job to have when you grow up. Being an Enforcer has every advantage.”

  Without turning his head, the squad leader glanced sideways at Ed Barrett and then shifted his eyes back toward Jacob who carried an innocent, admiring smile.

  In light of what the soldiers were doing to his home, Jacob’s attitude seemed bizarre. But it was better that the officer kept his eyes on the boy and his dad than to turn and see Margery praying.

  Maybe Lilia could end this sooner than not. Her gun could rapid-fire, and her aim was impeccable. If the soldiers didn’t leave soon, she’d have to take matters into her own hands anyway. Spirita’s appearance was growing ever closer; the distant horizon was already showing signs of her arrival.

  Two Enforcers were accounted for, and she hoped the other was doing his part to trash the third room. Better that than he sneak up behind her. An icy chill ran up her spine. She turned with a start. Nothing. Relieved, she refocused on the crisp, forest green uniformed leader.

  He turned fully toward Ed Barrett, then, almost robotically, his head pivoted once again toward Jacob, and his eyes narrowed. Did he see some flaw in the boy’s expression; a chink or crack revealing Jacob’s true feelings? Or was the boy serious about his wanting to become an Enforcer?

  Ready to strike, Lilia raised her gun. Patience, she thought. Let this play out. I still have a little time yet.

  The Enforcer’s voice was ice, his eyes full of hate. “You want to be an Enforcer, boy?”

  Despite his obvious fear, Jacob answered the Enforcer as if he had just been recruited.

  “Yes, Sir! In a couple years I’ll enlist for sure.” Ignoring the ruckus in the other rooms, Jacob smiled even more.

  Well, that’s not what I expected. Lilia thought tersely. Everything about the cold-blooded snake in human flesh made her blood boil, including his choice of weapon.

  She checked her gun again. Yeah, yeah, it’s fully charged. Keep a cool head, girl.

  If she was slow on the draw, one electro-charged bullet from his hand cannon would rip a grapefruit-sized hole clean through her chest.

  That would go over swell for the baby, wouldn’t it? She pushed the thought out of her head, but the sounds of smashed glass and breaking wood were starting to get to her, that, and Margery’s reaction to it all. Mrs. Barrett winced at every sound, but neither opened her eyes nor lowered her hands.

  They would have little left when the soldiers were finished, that is, if the Barretts were to survive this ordeal at all. Come on, Margery, drop your arms and open your eyes already. Being quiet isn’t going to keep his attention off you forever.

  The captain took a step toward Edward, leaning to get right in his face. “You okay with that, Barrett, your boy being an Enforcer?”

  Lilia thought she could smell the soldier’s garlicky breath from where she crouched. Hang tough, Eddy. Protect your family.

  With a trembling voice, Ed forced a smile. “Good gravy, sir, who wouldn’t be? I tried to enlist, myself, but I washed out. You guys are tough, and only the best of the best make it. I’d be proud to see my son do what I couldn’t.”

  Lilia frowned. How could he not get in? With his broad beefy shoulders and burly arms, Ed was no small man. He must be playing with the Enforcer’s oversized ego to keep his attention off Margery. There was no other explanation.

  The Enforcer cocked his head. “Well, you’re a big enough man, that’s for sure. Perhaps you lack the brains.”

  Don’t bite, Ed. Let it go. Middle of the twenty-third century, and civility still eludes these idiot Enforcers. Just let it go.

  Ed took a nervous breath. “Actually, I got high marks in school. I’m smart but . . .”

  The officer’s nostrils flared. He pressed his rifle barrel into Ed’s cheek. “But what?” His voice, though soft, was cold with threat.

  Lilia perked up. But what? But you had no desire to be a jerk with a gun, like him? But the Confederation stinks to high heaven? Lot’s of catch phrases to hang on that nail, Eddy. Pick a good one.

  Mr. Barrett took another labored breath and diverted his eyes. “But I lacked the nerve. You guys are tough, and I’m . . . well . . .”

  The officer lowered his gun, apparently satisfied no insult was forthcoming.

  Ed looked at his son, grabbed his hand, and gave it a firm squeeze before turning back to the officer. Although quaking, his voice was filled with pride.

  “I hope Jacob can get into the academy. He studies hard and gets better grades than I did. He has a steady heart, too. Being an Enforcer one day is all he talks about. You can value those qualities in my boy, can’t you?”

  Not believing the officer would buy the load of swill he was being served, Lilia held her breath as she clutched her gun. Her muscles tightened as she prepared to jump to her feet, spin, and fire.

  On the TCP she saw something else in Barrett’s gaze though, the way he looked at his son, and Jacob was in on it, as well. You’re tag teaming the Enforcer, aren’t you? With his attention on either one of you, he won’t notice Margery praying.

  But Lilia noticed, and with a sweaty palm, squeezed her pistol grip tighter. Would Margery ever end her prayer? If she didn’t quit soon, they would be discovered, and that would be the end of them. Margery was putting everyone at risk by praying openly. What was the point?

  The officer glanced around the table. “Oh, did we interrupt your supper? Pretty fancy fixin’s for the middle of the week, isn’t it?”

  Lilia’s jaw tightened. Roast beef with all the trimmings, a luxury, loudly said that the Barretts planned to leave Atheron this midweek night. Last supper here, is it? Couldn’t just let a good hunk of meat go to waste, huh, Marge? The Enforcer had them cold.

  But before the officer turned her way, Mrs. Barrett opened her eyes and lowered her arms to rest a friendly hand on the man’s shoulder. “Jacob has just decided to join the academy, sir. We have much to celebrate and would be honored if you fine gentlemen joined us.”

  What? Lilia thought. We don’t have time for this!

  The officer glanced back at the table. Although the roast was still steaming hot, with its delicately seasoned fragrance filling the room and stealing into the alley, his reply, “Huh!” said he’d rather take a hammer to his own foot. But the inherent strength in Mrs. Barrett’s smile didn’t lessen.

  As young Jacob timidly raised his hand, Lilia held her breath. Oh, no. Now what? She checked the horizon, the outlying hills; Spirita hadn’t crested yet, but time was really getting short.

  Satisfied the mom was harmless, the officer turned back toward Jacob and scowled. “What do you want, boy?”

  Jacob’s admiration beamed even more. “Can I get your autograph on something, sir?”

  The officer measured Jacob’s expression. His reply was matter-of-fact, like Jacob’s request was common. “Sure.”

  Give me a break. As if . . ., thought Lilia.

  The boy got up and rushed over to the shards of broken door trim strewn across his living room floor—evidence of an Enforcer’s typical method of entry—and picked up a good-sized piece. Blue paint covered its face and one edge, but on the backside the bare wood was smooth enough to write on.

  “Wow. My friends will not believe this.”

  The Enforcer shouldered his Mouser and took a pen from his pocket.

  “Could you sign
it ‘To my friend, Jacob?’ You know, to make my buds jealous.”

  The officer handed the shard back to Jacob and called to his men, “There’s nothing here. Let’s go!” Then he looked back at the boy. “You bring that piece of wood with you when you’re ready to enlist, and I’ll get you in.”

  “Thanks, man. Thanks a lot.” Jake followed him and his two men to the door and stared after them as they walked up the street.

  Hmm, well played, Lilia thought.

  From behind the bush, she peered out to make a mental note of the Enforcer’s face. Should she and he ever meet again, it would be his turn to be on the business end of the gun.

  The Enforcer looked back to see young Jacob standing on the doorsill, waving the autographed shard high over his head.

  The officer raised his rifle and shook it as if to say, “Power to the Confederation.” Then, wearing a malicious smile, he kicked in their neighbor’s door. The Barrett’s door had not been locked, and Lilia doubted old man Oberly’s was either.

  Point taken.

  “You did well, son.” Ed’s voice was now noticeably calm.

  As the boy stepped back into his house, Lilia quietly came around to the front of the building and saw him toss the piece of wood into the trashcan. Apparently the kid wanted little to do with being an Enforcer. Sweet play-acting, youngster.

  Ed patted Jacob’s back. “Like a pro, son. You hid your dislike, and kept your head.”

  She realized that Ed, indeed, had been faking his nervousness. Lilia felt she couldn’t have done better herself.

  But once the Enforcers were gone, Jacob looked as though he wanted to vomit, not so much as meeting his father’s gaze.

  Lilia peeked deeper in to catch Ed’s concerned expression for his son, and decided to give them a moment together while she hurried next door to the Oberly’s house.