“A subterranean garage is located beneath the café.”
Jarod and Mia’s eyes met Buton’s. They both spoke at once.
“There’s a garage!?”
Buton sighed. Apparently Jarod and this Mia were a match made in fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants-with-little-to-no-information heaven. “If you had read the unabridged Moon regulations—as I did—you might have known such a fact.”
The eye roll Jarod gave Buton was typical, and…so Buton supposed…obligatory. Ah, well. The life of a certified genius was far from a piece of cake. To use the vernacular.
* * *
Okay, so the situation was serious and everything—what with the gunshots and all—but Rob was having a blast. He couldn’t remember the last time someone…okay, Cleo…had told him he was too young to be there. And that diamond? Dude. And now he was full on in the middle of a high-speed chase on the Moon. This could not get any cooler.
Jarod took a hard left, turning away from the café, sending the MoonRover behind a large, long crest. Just as Rob was about to ask what was going on, Jarod slammed on the brakes, sending everyone forward into their seat straps. Jarod spun the Rover around. Moon rocks spewed out in an arc as the vehicle came to a complete stop.
“What are you doing?! They are right on top of us!” Mia punched Jarod squarely in the shoulder, causing him to wince and rub at the sore spot.
“Hey, hey, hey! Will you knock that off? Ow!” He threw up his hands in defense as Mia socked him a second time. “Trust me for a sec, will ya? I have an idea.”
Jarod kept the MoonRover at a standstill for what felt like an eternity, waiting for…what? Rob had no idea. The ships following them were behind the ridge, but Rob could feel them there, getting closer by the second. To be honest, Rob wanted to pound on Jarod, too. They had to get out. But there they sat.
And then Jarod punched the accelerator, slapping the crew back into their seats. Rob had no idea what had just happened. Jarod had gone in the wrong direction, stopped, and then waited. And then he started in the opposite direction again, with no kind of cue that Rob could see. There was no reason for anything that Jarod was doing right now. Was there such a thing as Moon fever?
The MoonRover flew out from behind the crest, and Rob fully expected to see their pursuers right on top of them. But scanning the horizon, they were nowhere to be found. Then Rob spotted some movement off in the distance, along the top of the ridge. Gil and his cronies must have tried to cut them off, thinking that the Rogues were heading back out to the diamond fields. Rob watched as the ships spun in disarray, trying to get back on the Rogues’ trail while not colliding with one another.
And now they had some breathing room. Not much, but some. Jarod made a beeline around to the back of the Dark Side of the Moon Café, and, sure enough, a garage opening appeared right in front of them. Buton never failed. Their tail was still coming, but Jarod managed to zip back and forth between the travelers entering and exiting the underground without crashing into anyone. Another zig and one more zag, and they were in the garage. Their pursuers were somewhere outside and, hopefully, baffled.
Jarod darted a glance behind them. “I think I’m getting the hang of this.”
Right as he spoke, the buggy beneath them shuddered, slowing down. Rob looked over Jarod’s shoulder at the readout. They were almost out of juice.
They drifted to a halt just yards away from a charging station. Trucks and Jeeps were plugged in on all sides. Okay. It was time for Rob to earn his keep as Mr. Obvious.
“We don’t have time to recharge.”
Cleo went to step out of the MoonRover. “We’ve got to go to the authorities.”
Once more, Mia and Jarod spoke as one. “No!” The both looked at each other, clearly surprised that they were in agreement once again.
Jarod spoke first. “Trust me, there is no law enforcement in there.”
“He’s right,” Mia seconded.
“Then, what are we supposed to do?” Rob threw up his hands. They had a lead, but that wasn’t going to last much longer. Especially if they all sat around jawing like “grownups” seemed determined to do.
But Jarod was already searching amongst the other vehicles. “We’re going to…um…”borrow” a ride.”
Jarod could apparently feel the group disapproval aimed at his backside as he straightened up and gave them all a look.
“What? Once we’re Earthside, we’ll pay them back. Honest.”
Rob looked around at the other crew members. They were all obviously uncomfortable with the idea. Then, an amplified voice boomed out through the underground garage.
“This area has been placed under martial law. Please stop your vehicles…”
Jarod had already bent down over a Moon Jeep, looking like he was attempting to hot-wire it. Judging from the tanks, it was a hydrogen engine, so there was no need to worry about a charge. Rob shook his head and nudged him aside.
“Let me.” Rob popped open his legs, revealing an enormous assortment of tools. He reached in for what he needed and got to work.
Rob felt Mia give his “legs” the once-over. All right. Here we go again. He started to feel awkward until she asked the question.
“What else you got in there?” There was no shock or pity in her tone. Rob felt a smile creep over his face.
Jarod spoke from somewhere behind Rob’s back.
“You don’t want to know.” Rob felt Jarod dig an elbow into his ribs.
At that point, Rob had the engine running. He gave an extra shot of power to the motor, revving it up. He turned and bowed with a flourish.
“Everybody on board.”
After some grunting and sweating and a couple of expletives thrown in for good measure, the crew got the Star Diamond aboard, still covered in its tarp. Mia and Cleo hopped in after it, but there wasn’t enough room for Jarod and Buton. Rob stood up, ready to climb out of the vehicle.
“No. You go.” Jarod stopped him with a hand.
Rob made a face. “Hey, I don’t want to go with the girls!”
A sound of gravity boots clomping toward them distracted Rob long enough for Jarod to hit the accelerator on the Jeep. As the vehicle lurched forward, Rob fell back into his seat. He turned around to watch Jarod and Buton disappear around a corner of the garage.
This sucked. Those guys were gonna have all the fun now. Rob just knew it.
The Jeep joined in with the caravan heading back out to the diamond fields. With the new car and a different number in their crew, they might escape notice. If fate were on their side.
Or was that karma? Rob could never remember the difference.
* * *
Dr. Weigner was less than pleased with the current situation. The doctor had identified the likelihood of some sort of subterfuge when the Rogues had disappeared behind the long dune. No one had listened to his protests.
After realizing their mistake and backtracking to the Dark Side of the Moon Café, with a conspicuous lack of apology from Stavros, Weigner and his team had now trapped the Rogues within the underground parking structure. That was about to change, at least in part.
The doctor observed as a Jeep tried to blend in with the group of vehicles headed back out for more prospecting. Did these cretins think he lacked eyes? He identified the Asian woman, the African American, and the teenage boy. Manifestly absent were the leader of the crew…and Dr. Desei.
Captain Stavros’ face appeared in the air above the dashboard, his brow furrowed.
“I said no departures.” His voice cut off for a moment, his face expectant, apparently waiting for some sort of acknowledgment. When none was forthcoming, Stavros spoke again, his tone much sharper.
“What are you waiting for? Intercept them.”
Weigner laid a hand across the driver’s chest, keeping him from pursuit. The frown on Stavros’ face deepened by a factor of three, but it could not be helped. These soldiers were like one big ganglion. Nothing but pure reflex—with nary an original thought in t
he bunch. Weigner urged the soldier in a different direction.
“No. Head toward the garage.”
“Seaman Jacobs! Belay that order!” the captain snapped.
The hapless seaman begged Weigner for understanding with his eyes.
“Doctor, I have my orders.” Ah, military types. They were nothing if not consistent.
The doctor made a motion for the man to hold still for a moment, placing his hand on the wheel to assure the soldier’s obedience gene did not get the better of him. Time for another assertion of dominance. Weigner wondered for a moment if this conflict would ultimately degenerate to the point of his comparing genitalia with the prickly captain. That would prove awkward.
“Captain, I believe we can accomplish more by detaining the two who still remain here. One of them is Dr. Desei, who is clearly the brains behind the organization.”
“Negative. We have eyes on the others. They are the priority.”
“Yes, Captain, but I know where Desei will go.”
“Just because you know Dr. Desei does not mean that you know where he is heading.” The disbelief painting Stavros’ face was palpable.
“You chase the others. I’ll get Desei. We don’t want a repeat of what happened earlier, do we?”
There was a significant pause before Stavros responded, during which the captain’s skin tone went from pink to red to purple. When he finally spoke, his tone seemed strangled.
“Affirmative. But, Doctor, you had better know what you’re doing.” The threat in that statement was crystal clear. The glare he directed at Weigner was simply overkill.
Dr. Weigner allowed a wry smile to spread over his face. Sometimes decorum had to take a backseat to a demonstration of superiority. “Have I been wrong yet?”
* * *
Buton had done more running today than he had in the rest of his life combined. He found the experience enlightening as well as thoroughly unpleasant. His breath rasped painfully in his throat, while his heartbeat throbbed a burning syncopation to his boots pounding on the concrete.
The regulations manual mentioned the underground parking garage, but had not specified just how extensive it was. Buton was confident that he and Jarod had now traversed the vast majority of it. Twice.
They had spent time blending in with rowdy miners. Some had been drinking to celebrate their finds, while others drank to drown their sorrows. The one thing they had in common? All were drunk. The only salve to this was that they were wearing their helmets in the unpressurized structure, so Buton had not had to smell their breath.
Throughout the entire ordeal, Jarod had been looking for another ride to hijack. The ones easily accessed were busy getting charged. The ready-to-go models had stumped Jarod at every turn. Buton had now listened to Jarod’s “I wish I had an artificial leg” monologue 5.3 times. The only thing stopping the sixth was a voluptuous woman passing by in a revealing dress.
And now they were heading down yet another row of vehicles. Jarod tried to find one that would take them out of there. When Buton spotted a sporty Mercedes that he was certain they had passed before, he could take it no longer. He had to say something.
“The statistical probability of—”
Buton’s voice, as well as his irritation, died off—only to be replaced by caution. Two men, obviously soldiers, headed down the row just opposite Buton and Jarod, accompanied by a man Buton knew all too well. Buton stifled a gasp and grabbed Jarod’s suit to pull him below the men’s eyeline.
“Get down!”
Jarod gaped over at the escorted scientist. “Who’s he?”
“He thinks himself the most intelligent man in the world.”
Jarod mumbled into the floor, making sure that Buton could hear every word, however.
“Great. Now I’ve got two of them.”
The soldiers were starting a systematic grid search of the area. It was only a matter of time before the two were caught. Buton set to analyzing the problem.
“Come on,” Jarod whispered as he waddled like some sort of duck away from their hiding place.
“Where?”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”
For some reason, Buton found that statement far less than reassuring. He crawled after the retreating figure of the leader of the Rogues, once more pondering the implacable justice of karma that had brought him to this juncture in his life.
The two began sprinting up the stairs the moment they turned the corner, putting as much distance between themselves and the soldiers as possible. Buton found himself wondering if it was possible, as he was beginning to feel, for legs to fall off.
As Jarod and Buton made their way up to the main lobby, the hat-check girl looked up from her magazine and held out her hand for their helmets. “May I?”
“I think we’ll keep ’em,” Jarod answered, panting a bit. He winked at the young lady.
“And which floor is the—”
The girl looked back down at her magazine and pointed up. “Third floor.”
As Jarod sprinted up the stairs, taking two at a time, Buton queried, “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Once again, Buton found this statement far from satisfactory.
CHAPTER 13
Somewhere between the Dark Side of the Moon Café and the Star Diamond fields
March 31, 2049
1721 hours, LST
Rob could feel the pressure building up in Cleo as she sat in the back and watched their pursuers get closer and closer. Cleo was a worrier. Rob knew it. She had to know it. Dude, even Mia probably knew it by now. And most of the time, Rob could tell that Cleo was doing what she could to try to counterbalance that. Not that he would ever admit that to her.
But he could feel her reaching her breaking point.
Jarod and Buton had been left behind, doing who knew what. Rob took a second to push down his anger at his uncle. That move back there had been so uncool. They hadn’t heard anything from them at all. They could be hiding out, riding to join them in a stolen ship, already captured, or…knowing his Uncle Jare…halfway blown to bits at this point. Seriously, come to think of it, halfway was totally an understatement.
And their own sitch wasn’t much better. Coming out of the garage, Rob had known they would be followed, but they had all counted on the other ships around them to keep the bad guys from shooting at them. It had worked like a charm up at first, but at this point they were cruising through the diamond fields and were looking more and more like sitting ducks. You know, without the whole sitting part.
Now they were being hounded by a totally awesome-looking government hovercraft that had been gaining on them for the last twenty minutes. And Rob was pretty sure he had seen the shine of that d-bag Gil’s head behind them. At least this Jeep was mega fast.
And right then, just to mock him, the engine started to sputter and lose speed. Dude. He totally needed to stop saying…or even thinking…the words “at least.” It never ended well.
“Oh, no,” Cleo muttered, looking up and over the backseat at the display.
“What? What’s happening?” Mia demanded.
Rob leaned over and tapped the dashboard. “We’ve got a fuel leak.”
Mia took her attention off the road for a moment to check the gauge. The gauge was way down below the “E.”
“It’s not that far. Maybe we can make it.”
But the Jeep kept slowing down. They all turned to look back. The hovercraft was almost like right on top of them. The way things were going they had maybe a couple of minutes. And the Jeep was like some kind of wind-up doll on the downside of a spin cycle. The fact that they were going up a huge hill wasn’t helping anything.
“We might as well get out and run,” Cleo growled. It was pretty clear that her frustration level was rising to epic proportions. And Rob totally got it. Would it be too much to ask to have one thing go right for them?
“I don’t think my quads are up for that,” Mia said, raising her eyebrows a
t Rob.
And just like that, Rob knew what he had to do. He grinned at Mia.
“No, they’re not. Mine are, though.” Rob made an adjustment to his prosthetic legs and then hopped out of the Jeep.
“Rob!” Cleo protested.
“I can do this!” Rob shouted back. And, shocker of all shockers, Cleo backed down. She waved him out, shaking her head while she was doing it, but still. Talk about your minor miracles.
Rob ran to the back of the car and pushed the button just below the knee on both legs. Jet streams burst out from the heels of his “feet,” adding strength and leverage way beyond what they all could have done together. Rob set his chest against the bumper and began to push, pumping his legs up and down. The vehicle began to move, slowly at first, and then with more and more speed.
Rob totally felt like a superhero. He was pushing a car. All of a sudden, he was not so bummed about having to go with the girls. He yelled up to the women.
“Just make sure we’re pointed in the right direction!”
* * *
Jarod found the brothel area of the Dark Side of the Moon Café surprisingly well kept. Almost homey. It was clear where the money was really being made. Those ladies must be making a mint, considering the jacked-up prices that Jarod paid for supplies the last time that he was here.
He and Buton darted through the main hallway, dodging the girls and their startled clients. The women tittered while their johns did all they could to cover their faces.
“Sorry, ladies. Just passing through.” Jarod flashed them a quick grin.
“Or, if things don’t go well, he may be working here,” Buton quipped from behind.
“Funny.” Look at that. Not enough to just be a brilliant scientist, Buton now was looking for a side career as a stand-up comedian.
As the two skirted by several more working women, Buton flushed a dark red as he almost ran face-first into a particularly well-endowed bosom. They rushed to the window at the end of the hallway. Jarod looked down and crowed, pointing at the sleek hovercraft parked right underneath their location. Buton wasn’t the only smart guy in the outfit.
“There’s our ride.” He reared back with his helmet, getting ready to smash the control console beside the windowsill.
Got Thrills? A Boxed Set (A McCray Collection) Page 42