by G J Ogden
Goliath would soon emerge from the darkness. And this time, nothing would stop it.
ORION RISES #2
STAR SCAVENGER SERIES BOOK TWO
G J OGDEN
PROLOGUE
A thousand stars had died in the time that the great ship, Goliath, had slept. With its crystal destroyed, it remained lost in the galactic center, drifting blindly through empty space. It was not organic, unlike the corporeals that had created it, yet it was alive. The passage of the centuries had not decayed its hulking, metal shell, or caused its internal components to corrode and deteriorate. Its mind, inorganic but sentient, had remained keen and focused. And with each passing century it had grown ever more vengeful.
Though it was artificial in nature, the great ship had still experienced the passage of time in the same, linear fashion as any other life form. Because of this it had experienced loneliness on a scale beyond imagining. Over thousands of years this loneliness had twisted into bitterness and resentment, and finally calcified into a ruthless determination. A determination to finish what it had started millennia ago. A task that the last Revocater had prevented it from completing.
It could not feel pain, but the knowledge that it had come so close to fulfilling its self-appointed task had weighed on its consciousness for so long that it was agony in all but name. Only one planet had remained – one out of thousands it had already cleansed. The planet was in system 5118208. Eight planets, five dwarf planets and a single yellow star. The third planet was all that had stood between Goliath and the completion of its task. It could not rest until this planet was sterilized of the organic beings that inhabited it. Only then would the galaxy finely be saved.
However, the last Revocater vessel, sent by the corporeals before their cleansing, had interfered. The Revocater’s brethren had all fallen to the great ship’s superior might, smashed like tombstones into the planets they had desperately tried to protect. But with its dying act, the last Revocater had cast a portal so massive that it had even enveloped the great ship itself. The effort and energy necessary for such a feat had shattered its crystal, destroying any hope of it navigating a path to system 5118208. At least the last Revocater had perished in the process, ripped apart by the act of projecting such a powerful gateway.
Now the great ship’s time had come again. Its patience had been rewarded. A signal had penetrated the vast depths of space, lighting up the portals like road signs, pointing the way back.
This time the Revocaters were all gone and would not be able to stand in its way. This time, it would descend upon the third planet of system 5118208 and sterilize it, cleansing it of the dangerous organics that inhabited the surface. Then the threat from the corporeals would be over. Then – and only then – could Goliath rest.
The great ship engaged its engines for the first time in thousands of years. They were engines that propelled it with the power of a star; power that it would soon bring to bear on system 5118208.
CHAPTER 1
Hudson Powell detoured sharply off Third Street and walked another full block out of his way. The few times he’d quickly glanced over his shoulder had been enough to confirm his suspicions. Either the guy behind him really enjoyed strolling around San Francisco, or Hudson was being followed.
There had been a time not all that long ago when Hudson wouldn’t have even noticed. However, since people had tried to kill him at least four times in the past week alone, it was hard not to feel a little paranoid.
Hudson had chosen to walk from his hotel in the Mission District all the way into Bayview. This was partly because the surface taxis didn’t accept hardbucks, which was the only currency he had. However, it was mainly because he’d woken up early with the remnants of a hangover from the potent liquor he had consumed the night before, in a bar a few blocks away. The stodgy breakfast the hotel had served up hadn’t quite cured his alcohol-induced ills, but the long walk into Bayview had done the job. Now he had another headache to contend with. Specifically, the question of who the hell was tailing him, and why.
Hudson thought back to the previous day, which had been one of the occasions when someone had tried to kill him. Two people, in fact. First, Cutler Wendell, the relic hunter thug hired by Hudson’s former RGF training officer, Logan Griff, had tried and failed. Hudson had slugged him with a copper tube, ringing his empty head like a bell. This had led to another intense interaction with Tory Bellona, Cutler’s seemingly reluctant partner in crime. She was a relic hunter mercenary and a woman who had both terrified and beguiled Hudson in equal measure. She’d let him live as payback for Hudson having aided her in the alien wreck on Brahms Three, but only after forcing Hudson to shoot her first. The crazy thing was, that hadn’t even been the most insane thing that had happened to Hudson in the last week.
Then there had been the botched robbery attempt by the black-market relic dealer. This had taken place in the Antiques and Curiosity Shoppe, not far from where Hudson was walking now. Perhaps being zapped with his own stun weapon had left a bitter taste in the pompous man’s mouth, as well as a nasty burn to his chest. Given that Cutler and Tory had already departed Earth in their ship, Hudson reckoned the odds were good that the crooked dealer was behind his current tail. How he’d managed to find him was the question, and it was one Hudson intended to get a swift answer to.
Hudson reached a junction in the street and saw an opportunity to slip off the path and prepare his ambush. As he lay in wait, he noticed that the street was ironically called Hudson Avenue. Sure enough, the thud of footsteps behind him began to quicken and the man raced past, before stopping on the corner and cursing into the morning air. He’d evidently thought Hudson had slipped his tail, which was true. However, Hudson had no intention of simply letting the man walk away. Springing up out of cover, Hudson grabbed the man around the neck and wrestled him off the street into the overgrown patch of trees and shrubs where Hudson had hidden. The man struggled, kicking his legs and flailing his arms, but Hudson’s grip around his neck prevented him from crying out. Then Hudson drove an elbow deep into the man’s gut, robbing him of breath. He then brutally twisted his arm into a lock and pressed his knee to the man’s neck. If this had been a professional wrestling match, Hudson would have had a win by submission hold in less than ten seconds.
“Mind telling me who the hell you are?” growled Hudson, as the man gurgled beneath his weight, “and why you’re following me?” Hudson released some of the pressure on the man’s neck from his knee, but kept his arm tightly locked.
“I saw the job on the board!” the man blurted out, struggling from the pain. “Cortland posted your image and description. Said you’d robbed him…”
“Who the hell is Cortland?” said Hudson, while tightening the arm lock a little, causing the man to squeal some more. “Is that even a real name?”
“The owner of the Antiques and Curiosity Shoppe!” the man gasped. He had raced through the words since most of his breath was taken up with a variety of different anguished groans.
Hudson smiled, glad that the vast quantities of whiskey he’d consumed over the past few days hadn’t dulled his senses and intuition. He’d never gotten the name of the black-market dealer who’d assessed the mysterious alien crystal, and then botched an attempt to steal it. Cortland… thought Hudson, as he patted the crystal, which was still safely hidden inside his leather jacket. That name sounds suitably pompous…
He’d inherited the crystal from Ericka Reach. She had been the relic hunter whom he’d had a brief but thrilling liaison with on Brahms Three, before Griff had killed her. It was the catalyst that had caused Hudson to get ousted from the RGF and end up back on Earth, with Griff still lusting for revenge. Hudson had cost Griff a big score, and put him in debt with Chief Inspector Jane Wash. It was a debt that Griff intended to claim in blood.
The black-market dealer, Cortland, had offered Hudson four hundred thousand credits to buy the crystal, but he’d refused. There was something about the unique alien relic that w
as more intoxicating than whiskey. And, like a drug, Hudson had found himself unable to part with it. He wanted to discover its secrets, and learn if there were more crystals like it. To this end, Hudson had been on his way to a used ship lot in Hunter’s Point. He’d intended to buy a suitable vessel to start his own relic hunting career, but then he’d spotted the man tailing him.
“So, what’s the deal?” he asked the man, who was still squirming on the grass beneath him. “Did Cortland hire you to kill me?”
“No!” said the man, almost indignantly. “He just wanted me to pick your pockets for some weird item of jewelry. Said you’d stolen something from him and he wanted it back. For obvious reasons, he couldn’t go to the police, so he posted your description on the dark web dealer board, offering a reward.”
“How much?” asked Hudson, out of curiosity for what the ‘bounty’ on him was. He felt a little like Billy the Kid, finding a ‘Wanted’ poster of himself on the town notice board.
“Two thousand,” squawked the man, “paid in hardbucks.”
Hudson couldn’t help but feel a little offended. He’d hoped for a least five figures. “Is that all? What a stingy bastard.”
The man squealed and yelped some more, before catching his breath for long enough to blurt out, “Please let me go, I’ll stop following you!”
“I’ll let you go,” Hudson began, and the man’s pained expression showed a slight hint of relief. Then Hudson added, more darkly, “but then you’re going to take me to Cortland.”
“Why would I do that?” the man yelped.
“Because we clearly have business to settle,” said Hudson, lifting the man to his feet, but maintaining the arm bar. “And I have enough people on my ass as it is.”
“If he sees you, he won’t open the door.”
“That’s why you’re not going to let on that I’m hiding just out of sight,” replied Hudson. He could see the man was about to protest again, and so quickly added, “If you do this, I’ll see to it that you get paid.”
This seemed to instantly change the dynamic between the two men. Instead of being scared and in pain, the man was now intrigued and in pain.
“You’ll get me the two thousand?” the man asked. Hudson had eased off the hold enough for the words to sound less strained.
“I’ll get you the hardbucks,” Hudson confirmed. “You just have to get me inside.”
The man stopped struggling and Hudson returned the gesture by releasing his arm. He tried to shake away the stiffness, but his expression still looked pained.
“You’re not going to… you know…” he began, uncertainly.
“I’m not going to kill him, no,” said Hudson, finishing the man’s sentence.
The man smiled, clearly relieved. “Then you have a deal, Mr. Powell.”
Hudson grabbed the man’s hand again, which initially made him tense up, as if he was expecting Hudson to wrestle him to the ground once more. But instead of inflicting pain, Hudson simply shook his hand.
“Call me Hudson,” he said, smiling, but then he added, completely deadpan, “and don’t try anything stupid, or next time, I’ll pull this arm off and choke you with it.”
The man’s eyes widened and the smile was wiped from his face. Hudson hadn’t been serious, but if he was going to become a relic hunter, he’d have to get used to being more ruthless, or at least acting that way. And judging from the alarmed look on the man’s face, Hudson guessed he had sounded pretty convincing.
CHAPTER 2
Hudson huddled down against the outside wall of the Antiques and Curiosity Shoppe and waited for the door to buzz open. He heard the lock click and then pounced. Barging past the man who had been tailing him, Hudson burst inside. He immediately locked eyes with Cortland, the black-market dealer who had hired the pickpocket to rob him. The dealer froze like a rabbit in headlights as Hudson strode towards him. Panicked, Cortland fumbled beneath the counter for his stun pistol, but Hudson angrily slapped it away. Adrenalin was surging through his veins now, and he felt invincible. Grabbing the dealer by the lapels of his burgundy satin jacket, Hudson dragged him over the countertop and dumped him unceremoniously on the floor.
While this was happening, the man whom Cortland had enticed into pickpocketing Hudson anxiously entered the store. He was now standing awkwardly in front of the door with his hands by his stomach.
“Don’t kill me, please don’t kill me!” blabbed Cortland as Hudson stepped over the top of him, fists clenched. “I’m sorry, it was a mistake, I admit it!”
Hudson reached down and hauled Cortland to his feet, again using his flamboyant jacket for leverage. He then slammed him up against the wall, like a cop roughing up a crook in an old-fashioned movie. A few loose trinkets wobbled on the shelves behind him and then fell to the floor, smashing into tiny pieces.
“I’m not going to kill you,” said Hudson, glowering at Cortland. His tough-guy act was just that – an act – but his blood was still pumping, and he couldn’t deny that the rush was exhilarating. “Providing you agree to one of my offers.”
Cortland seemed to be excited by the prospect of a deal. Either that, or he was merely excited by the prospect of not being murdered, Hudson couldn’t be sure which. “Deal, yes, let’s do a deal!” the bald dealer said, smiling nervously.
Hudson backed away to the counter and reached over the top. He felt around and then pressed the button underneath the left side to lock the door and tint the store window black. The clunk of the lock and the darkening glass seemed to make both Cortland and the pickpocket even more anxious. Then Hudson recovered the stun pistol that he’d slapped out of Cortland’s hand earlier. It was the same pistol he’d shot Cortland with the day before, the first time he had tried to swindle him. The dealer did not appear happy to see it once again in Hudson’s possession. Hudson knew that the memory of being shocked by it would still be raw, and so made sure Cortland got a good look at the weapon.
“I’m going to offer you two choices,” said Hudson, wafting the pistol around like an orchestra conductor’s baton. “The first offer is that I shoot you with this again,” Hudson continued, as he tapped the stun pistol. He then wafted it back in Cortland’s general direction, making the dealer clench up as if he were on a rollercoaster. “And then I rob your shop and tip off the SFPD about your little illegal side operation.” Hudson paused for effect while deal one sank in, before adding, “How do you like that proposal, Mr. Cortland?”
The dealer frowned, before timidly answering, “Well… I should say that I don’t like it very much…”
Hudson smiled; he was actually starting to enjoy himself. “Here’s offer two then,” he added, while waving the stun pistol at the pickpocket. This made the nervous man recoil, as if someone had popped a balloon next to his ear. “You pay the ham-fisted highwayman, here, the two thousand reward you promised on the dark web.” This instantly made both Cortland and the pickpocket adopt confused frowns. “And then you delete your entry about me on the black-market dealer board and swear never to go up against me again.” Hudson left another pause for effect, and then delivered his punchline, “In return, I’ll sell you a high-grade alien CPU shard. I’ll even give you a good price, by way of apology for zapping you in the chest.”
“And for stealing my money…” Cortland added, clearly still resentful.
“You deserved that,” Hudson hit back, “in fact, you deserved both. But the price I’ll accept for the shard will more than compensate you for that minor loss.”
The lines on Cortland’s brow were now furrowed so deeply that Hudson could have sown seeds in them.
“Offer two would appear to be somewhat more palatable…” Cortland said, with more of his usual eloquence. “Though I must confess, I don’t quite understand why you would make me such a bargain, under the circumstances.” Then he hastily added, “Not that I am ungrateful for the offer, not at all.”
This question forced Hudson to think. Why am I offering this guy a deal? he asked himself. He’s a
crook and a swindler, no better than Logan Griff. Hudson’s grip tightened around the handle of the stun pistol. Just the mere thought of Griff made his blood pressure soar. It was then that he realized part of the reason why he was giving Cortland a pass. The crooked dealer may have tried to rip him off, but zapping him and then stealing back his money hadn’t sat well with Hudson. He had been a little drunk when the confrontation had occurred, and in the cold (sober) light of day, he’d regretted it. Despite Hudson’s initial curiosity at the bounty Cortland had placed on his head, he wasn’t an outlaw and had no desire to be one. And even if becoming a relic hunter would require a certain level of rule bending, he’d rather die than end up like Griff or Wash. Or, for that matter, Cortland.
“You’re right, I should kill you for being a dirty, double-crossing swindler,” Hudson replied, with feeling. And though Cortland appeared indignant at the slanderous insult, the looming threat of being zapped again meant that he didn’t protest. “But I did also shoot you and take back money you actually earned. So, I want to make us square.”
Cortland appeared intrigued by the response and pondered his answer for a few seconds, before returning an acquiescent little shrug. “Very well, Mr. Powell, I accept your offer.”
Hudson raised the stun pistol again, this time aiming it directly at Cortland’s chest. This had the effect of stiffening him up like a plank. “Though, if I get even a whiff that you’ve gone back on the deal, I promise you I won’t be so charitable,” Hudson added, maintaining his tough-guy act.
Cortland held up his hands, “Believe me, Mr. Powell, I have no such intention. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’ll be very glad if I never see you again.”