Zero Magnitude (Galaxy Mavericks Book 3)

by Michael La Ronn

  ***

  The first person they found on the hotel grounds was a concierge in a three-piece suit who happened to be on his smoking break. Upon seeing Devika and Michiko, drenched and battle-worn, the cigarette fell out of his mouth. He listened in horror as Michiko told him what had happened, waving with her hands as she spoke.

  The police arrived within ten minutes. Devika and Michiko sat in the sumptuous hotel lobby, on a chaise next to a grand piano, swaddled in blankets as the police asked questions.

  Devika gave them her false name and kept her answers to yes and no.

  “We were rafting when someone shot at us,” she told the police. “I don’t know who it could have been.”

  That was true.

  It wouldn’t have been Miloschenko. He would have been too cowardly to hold a gun.

  It was probably a grunt.

  Conveniently, the police were so focused on the murders that they didn’t ask Devika who she was or why she was visiting the planet. And, they had to console Michiko, who was mortified by the whole event. As they interviewed the distraught tour guide, Devika slipped away.

  Outside, a hotel shuttle bus rolled into the porte-cochère and a line of hotel guests climbed onto it, carrying their luggage.

  By the time the police went to ask Devika a second round of questions, she was gone, and the Hotel Green was long behind her.

  Chapter 22

  When the carrier spaceship landed at the Southwest Seventh District Spaceport, the stars were aglitter in the navy blue sky. The pilot parked on the wide-open tarmac.

  Devika didn’t have to wait long.

  The spaceport was a small, regional port. Inside the large metal pod, there was a section for luggage registration, another for security, and two waiting areas.

  At security, which consisted of a metal detector and two security guards with a German Shepherd, she flashed her GALPOL badge and they let her through without any further questions.

  She sat in the corner of the cool, air-conditioned waiting area, away from most of the passengers. Through the tall, curved panes of glass, she watched the last remnants of sunlight fade into the tree line in the distance.

  What a hell of a time she’d had on this planet.

  She thought of all the people who died on the river.

  Should she have felt sorrow, like Michiko?

  If Devika didn’t bring Miloschenko to justice, those people would have died for no reason. Senselessly.

  But she felt nothing when she thought of their deaths and the bodies floating on the river.

  She felt nothing when she thought of Michiko, who was probably still in the hotel lobby swaddled in blankets, telling the police what happened.

  Michiko had been too friendly to her.

  Devika didn’t have friends.

  “Friendships are just temporary,” she always used to say.

  She could count on one hand the number of people that had stayed in her life longer than a few months. It was too much work to get to know people. Too much hassle.

  She tried to remember Michiko’s face. Her bright smile. Even now it was a blur.

  The incident on the river seemed so far away. Her ship crashing into the forest after being shot out of the sky—even further.

  As an intercom directed the passengers to proceed outside and board the spaceship, Devika pushed it all out of her mind and focused on Tavin Miloschenko.

  ***

  Smoke lay on his stomach on top of the service hangar. The sniper rifle rested on his shoulder and he swept the crosshairs over the spaceport field.

  A group of travelers walked outside and lined up under a covered metal walkway that led to the blue carrier ship resting on the tarmac.

  Smoke traced the length of the covered metal walkway.

  It extended from the door of the spaceport all the way to the spaceship. There was only a span of ten feet where the passengers walked into the open to climb into the ship’s airlock.

  A small window.

  He swept the crosshairs back toward the spaceport.

  Devika.

  She walked out of the spaceport, sunglasses on and looking around nervously.

  Smoke locked the crosshairs on her and grinned.

  Something in his ear beeped, distracting him from his concentration.

  “You only get one shot,” Kyla said. “If you miss, I’m leaving your ass on the roof.”

  “How many times have I told you to shut up?” Smoke asked.

  Devika passed out of the metal walkway, into his crosshairs.

  He pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 23

  Devika heard the loud rifle crack and fell to the ground.

  She hit her head on the tarmac.

  Screams erupted around her.

  She breathed heavily.

  Had she been shot?

  She felt her legs, her chest.

  She'd heard the gunshot.

  If she'd heard it, she must be alive.

  No blood.

  She stumbled up.

  Next to her, in the metal post of the covered walkway, was a bullet hole.

  Her eyes widened, and she looked out over the tarmac toward the service hangar as a crowd of people ran around her.

  A man was on top of the hangar. She could see his shadow.

  The killer.

  She dove into the safety of the covered bridge as another shot rang out.

  She drew her handcoil and aimed at the man.

  He was far.

  Almost too far.

  But she fired.

  Zzzt! Zzzt!

  CRACK! CRACK!

  More screams. More yelling.

  The spaceship turned on its engines and the turbines drowned out the sounds of the screaming and stampeding.

  The ship began to roll toward the service hangar.

  Devika kept her aim steady. She unloaded the handcoil, her forearms jumping with each shot.

  Zzzt! Zzzt! Zzzt!

  On the roof, the man flinched.

  Had she hit him?

  The spaceship continued drifting toward the hangar, and only then did Devika realize something was wrong.

  The ship was rolling uncontrollably.

  With a crash, the ship collided with the metal frame of the hangar.

  It sounded like an explosion, and it made Devika jump.

  The roof of the hangar crumpled, and a fan of sparks ignited into smoke and fire.

  Devika ran across the tarmac. In the distance, she spotted an empty hangar filled with corsairs.

  A private hangar.

  She dashed toward it as sirens blared and helicopters whirred over the tarmac.

  She made it into the hangar and found a black corsair near the door. Its airlock was open.

  “Excuse me!” someone shouted.

  A police officer ran toward her.

  “You need to come with me, ma’am,” the officer said. “It's not safe here.”

  Devika flashed her badge.

  “I'm special agent Devika Sharma with GALPOL, and I need to commandeer this corsair. Now!”

  The officer waved his hands and told her to go on.

  She ran into the ship’s airlock. It looked just like every other corsair airlock, except that there were wooden crates stacked here and there with the words FRAGILE marked on them.

  She wondered what was in the crates as she hit a button on the wall and closed the bay doors.

  She did a quick check of the ship and confirmed no one was onboard.

  Then she climbed into the cockpit, where the key was in the ignition.

  She powered up the ship and lifted off into the atmosphere.

  An instrument panel blinked and the star map powered up, a holographic display of the galaxy hovering just over the panel.

  In the ship’s rearview cameras, Devika watched the service hangar smoldering in the night. Police cars circled the tarmac.

  God, she had been lucky.

  It was almost over now.

  She focus
ed ahead, on the darkening navy sky so full of stars and light. She pulled on the joystick and the ship rumbled furiously as it barreled upward.

  Soon, she went weightless as the navy sky gave way to space, and the shaking turned into a dull vibration.

  Coppice lay behind her, a vibrant bluish-green ball of light.

  She sighed.

  She was free.

  “Computer, who does this ship belong to?” Devika asked.

  “This ship is registered to Mr. Masashi Sakamoto, resident of the planet Macalestern, 177985 Marble Lake Drive…”

  “Send a message to the registered email on file,” Devika said. “Tell him I’m sorry I had to take the ship, but that I will relay its location in a few days, and that he'll be able to pick it up. I'll pay for any damages.”

  “Message ready to send,” the computer said. “Shall I send it?”

  Devika was about to say yes when a tremendous shadow swept over the corsair.

  A silver ship eased through space, flying toward her. It had long wings and a purple beacon glowing on the underside of one wing.

  Her heart sank.

  It was Miloschenko.

  A blue blast exploded from the bottom of the ship.

  Immediately, Devika lost power in the corsair. The lights flickered and then went out.

  She grabbed the weapon joystick, but it didn’t work. She reached for her handcoil, but she was out of bullets.

  “Damn,” she said.

  The airlock on the silver ship opened like the mouth of a giant whale, and it swallowed her.

  Chapter 24

  A group of soldiers dressed in gray armor met Devika in the airlock, where they disarmed her and slapped handcuffs on her wrists.

  They pushed her through the ship.

  The airlock walls were covered in computers that monitored Coppice. Everything you could think to measure—wind speeds, humidity, temperature, etc.—all had its own separate screen. Soldiers and scientists studied the screens, talking among each other. She had never seen so many screens in her life.

  This was, from what she could tell, some sort of scientific monitoring ship. This kind of spaceship wasn't meant for war—it was meant for observation.

  The guards ushered her through a long skywalk with windows on both sides.

  The windows were covered in digital, holographic touchscreens. She saw Coppice revolving below them, with a golden display of information laid over it. Numbers and coordinates and other terms that she did not understand, all updating in real time as the planet rotated.

  What was Miloschenko doing?

  Why would he need all of the details of a planet? Everything you needed to know about a planet was already stored in public domain databases. Scientists had spent decades observing planets for just this very thing.

  The soldiers pushed her through the skywalk and into a room titled Specimen Room, a two-level room with dozens of desks, microscopes and computers on one side, and a long row of human-sized test tubes on another side. The test tubes were empty. She noticed tall, metal walls within the tubes. Attached to them were straps. From what she could tell, they were meant for people.

  A shiver went through her. The soldiers pushed her through another door and onto the bridge, a dark room with a few men and women at the control panels. The curved windshield overlooked Coppice.

  At the front of the bridge, on a raised pedestal, Tavin Miloschenko waited for her.

  He smiled.

  And he clapped.

  Chapter 25

  “You're making my life impossible,” Miloschenko said. “Do you understand that?”

  Devika didn't take her eyes off Miloschenko.

  “Are you going to kill me?” she asked.

  “No, I can't kill you now,” Miloschenko said, waving his hands dismissively. “Not after your little escapades down there.”

  He approached her, his hands clasped behind his back. His long, graying hair was wet, as if he had just taken a shower.

  Outside, the ship jumped into hyperspace. The floor rumbled slightly as the ship increased its speed.

  “You did a great job down there,” Miloschenko said, “Subjectively, of course. If I were GALPOL, I would be impressed: you survived what should have been a fatal crash, you evaded my soldiers, and you even, somehow, for the love of God, managed to escape my super soldier. You, Miss Sharma, deserve a raise.”

  Miloschenko turned and walked back toward the window.

  “I guess since you're here, you want to talk about all those allegations you planned to accuse me of, right?”

  “No,” Devika said. “The fact that you're a human trafficker is pretty obvious, and the fact that you're going to jail is even more clear. We don't need to talk anymore, if that's okay with you.”

  “It's unfortunate what happened to you,” Miloschenko said. “It really is. You know, when the Arguses abducted you on Coppice that rainy day twenty years ago, I had actually given them orders not to abduct anyone that day.”

  Devika’s heart skipped a beat.

  He was playing with her.

  He had to be playing with her.

  “You don't think I did my research on you? I suppose I’m to blame for creating the monster you’ve become. But oh, what a darling of the media you were back then. So cute!”

  Miloschenko pointed to the window, where a sepia photo of a young Devika floated on the glass. She was unsmiling and looked at the camera with frightened eyes.

  “What happened to that little girl?” he asked. “Shall we open you up and see firsthand?”

  Miloschenko turned to her and held up a scalpel.

  “You can trust me. I'm a doctor,” he said, grinning.

  Chapter 26

  “Honey, have you thought about college?” Mary asked.

  Devi sifted through a pile of brochures at the dining room table. She pushed a plate of Mary’s famous ravioli aside.

  Mary stuffed the brochures inside a leather binder. The evening sunlight shone on the side of her head, illuminating the growing strands of gray in her hair.

  “Ooh, Simpson College on Gargantua is nice,” she said. “They are the oldest continuously operating college, with roots back to Earth, in Iowa, in 1860. That's old!”

  Devi pushed the red and gold brochure aside.

  “You're in your senior year of high school,” Mary said. “You've got to decide what to do.”

  “I guess I haven't decided,” Devi said.

  She hadn't.

  Her grades hadn't been stellar. She'd barely passed English, economics, or xenosociology.

  She didn't have a use for books. Or markets. Or alien history.

  She didn't know what she had a use for. She was a loner.

  A few friends here and there, none that lasted.

  A boyfriend. But the relationship ended up going nowhere.

  And the years had flown by.

  Soon, she would have to leave home. Away from Mary. She'd have to be by herself.

  Mary sat on the couch next to her, brushing away a gray strand of hair from her cheek.

  “What's wrong?” Mary asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Mary punched her lightly on the shoulder.

  “I see what's going on. You don't want to leave me, do you?”

  Devi shook her head. A tear jumped into her eye and she hated it.

  “It’s okay, sweetie,” Mary said, rubbing Devi’s shoulders, “I’ll still be here for you. But you have to start your own life, too. I promised that I would look out for you. I could never live it down if I didn't ensure that you went to college.”

  “What if I don't want to go?”

  “Well, I guess we need to find something else for you to do. What about starting a business?” Mary asked.

  “Why would I want to do that?” Devi asked, offended.

  “You could be an entrepreneur,” Mary said. “They say interplanetary real estate is full of potential, especially after all the residential terraforming on Refugio. You could set yo
ur own hours, and most of the time would be spent by yourself. Perfect for an introvert like you.”

  “Yeah, but I would still have to smile and put on airs when I'm with people.”

  “Just think about it,” Mary said. “You don't have to decide today.”

  Devi smiled and pulled a brochure out of her jacket.

  “What about this?” she asked, handing Mary the brochure.

  It was a white brochure with an image of a golden police badge and a spiral galaxy behind it. Across the top it read:

  Galaxy Police

  Serve Beyond Yourself

  Mary opened the brochure, speechless.

  “But police work is so dangerous, honey.”

  “A recruiter came to class today,” Devi said. “They don't just do police work. I mean, they do, but they have a human rights division, too. I was thinking maybe I could go to the academy. Once it's done, I could come back and live with you. There are office positions here on Provenance—”

  “Are you sure you want to consider this?” Mary asked. She tucked the brochure away. “Police work isn't glamorous. When I was a social worker, I can't tell you how many horrible things they had to deal with.”

  “I keep thinking about what I want to do with my life,” Devi said. “And all I can think about is stopping other kids like me from, from—”

  Mary took her into a hug.

  “I don't want them to end up like me,” Devi said.

  “I don't either,” Mary said. “But I'd say you turned out pretty good.”

  “You don't like the idea?” Devi asked.

  “Honey, it’s so amazing. And noble. And selfless. It really is. I just want you to be sure.”

  “I want to make traffickers pay,” Devi said. She balled her fist. “I don't feel anything sometimes. It's like I try to channel my emotions but I can't. I keep thinking that I can use that. I can use it to go after criminals. Because maybe, deep down, they don't feel anything, either. And the difference between me and them is my past. That someone offered to love me.”