The entire crew fell silent. Cleo finally spoke in a subdued tone.
“What have we found?”
Buton answered in the only way he could. “A planet destroyer.”
* * *
The fire show was impressive, Weigner could not deny. The rockets’ red glare. The bombs bursting in…well, in the vacuum of space. It would have made Dr. Weigner feel almost patriotic if it weren’t for the fact that with every passing moment his super-laser was at more risk. The Eureka dodged and spun in an erratic pattern to avoid the barrage of firepower the Eclipse was sending her way. With every bob and weave, the doctor felt himself wince. With every explosion, he almost had to turn away.
Dr. Weigner had been more than patient. He had allowed Stavros to maintain his leadership, even when it was clear that the man had no idea what he was doing up here. He had only challenged Stavros when it was absolutely necessary. He had dealt with the constant military escorts and being treated like excess baggage.
Weigner had now had it with these military types. As another round of warning shots flashed past the fleeing ship, he called out to Stavros.
“Careful with the weapons! That last volley was too damned close!”
The captain bristled. “Doctor, do not tell me how to—”
Weigner infused his voice with all the disdain he could muster. This man was threatening their entire operation with his military ego. Pretentious peacock.
“If that shuttle goes down in the Atlantic, do you want to be the one to hunt for it through thousands of acres of ocean bottom?”
For once, the greasy treasure hunter said something useful. Gil stepped into the conversation as if he belonged.
“Trust me, Captain, you don’t…”
Unfortunately, the man’s comments did nothing to help the situation. If possible, the captain’s back got even more stiff and straight.
“My orders are—”
“To assist me in obtaining the crystal!” Weigner got up close and personal. When it came to science, he had no fear. Especially not of trite troglodytes like this one. He stood nose to nose with Stavros, close enough to see the hairs growing out of the man’s nostrils. Weigner almost whispered his next words.
“Now get them in line, Captain, and force them to land.”
The military man bridled at the direct order, but after a moment complied. Weigner refrained from letting a smile cross his face. At the end of the day, it was good to know where the power resided.
Science truly did reign supreme.
* * *
Buton was fascinated in a sick way by what poured over the feed. Newscasters and pundits contemplated and expounded upon scenario after scenario of what the new “super weapon” could be capable of. Buton was certain everyone involved was severely underestimating what the laser could do.
Cleo watched over Buton’s shoulder. “We can’t let them have it…”
Buton mulled over what had been on his mind since the broadcast began. “Perhaps I might have an idea, but I will need time to test it.”
“Yeah, right. Time.” Jarod laughed with no mirth. He turned to Simon and asked, “Any suggestions?”
“Full burn, straight down.” Simon pointed once more at the blue orb ahead of them.
Jarod waited, apparently thinking that there should be more. Simon continued after a moment.
“Oh. Aim for the water.”
While the pilot and copilot bickered amongst themselves, Buton unbuckled the transport crate that carried the collective hopes and dreams of the crew inside. As he lifted the lid, the crystal glowed, casting a beatific light over the entire hold. Once more, Buton found himself gripped with a sense of awe and reverence around the stone. He lifted a small, pointed hammer and spoke to the gem.
“Please forgive me.”
Buton struck the diamond, which emitted a loud and deafening ring. The sound echoes through the small spacecraft. Jarod whipped around in his chair.
“What the—?”
Buton leaned in toward the jewel’s surface, studying it intensely. There wasn’t even a slight scratch on the face of the stone. Buton called out to Cleo, “Get me the drill!” Cleo rushed off to find the tool as Jarod once more turned around. His face had gone beet red.
“Are you crazy?”
Buton understood Jarod’s perspective, but they did not have much time. Not wanting to distract Jarod from his very important job, Buton explained with a certain urgency.
“They only want it for its size. If we smash it into shards, it will be useless to them, but we can still make a—”
Another warning shot burst beside them, closer than any of the previous ones. Simon grabbed Jarod’s shoulder and then clutched at his head, closing his eyes for a moment. Simon took a deep breath, apparently to steady himself.
“We’ve got to risk full burn, or they’re gonna trap us. Like, soon.”
Buton, with half an ear trained to catch the conversations in the front of the ship, took the large drill Cleo offered and lowered the spinning device toward the diamond. The bit shattered loudly, pieces of metal pinging off of the hull. One of the shards grazed Buton’s shoulder, slicing through his spacesuit and leaving a red trail behind it. Buton muttered to himself, “Maybe in a laboratory with a fusion metal drill…But we don’t have anything—”
Mia pointed to the view screen ahead, her voice tinged with worry. “I don’t like the look of those satellites.”
Buton stared at what was now visible on-screen. A cluster of satellites, inert just moments before, were now peeling open. Sections shifted and rearranged themselves, the communication devices transforming into something far less communicative and far more threatening. Each was morphing into what looked like a large titanium-clawed starfish.
The Eureka lurched as it was struck from the side. Buton went flying backward and slammed his elbow into a protruding section of the hull. He arose, rubbing his arm where it had erupted into pins and needles.
Jarod called out, “Strap in!”
Buton did so, but watched as two more satellites sent out grappling hooks attached to tethers. As they struck the ship, the crew was rocked once more, explaining where the first disruption had come from. Jarod looked up from his instruments as the two blows fell on the ship.
“What the—?”
The “starfish” rapidly began pulling themselves toward the ship, using the tethers as leverage. They skittered closer and closer, their movements implacable and alien.
Buton breathed, “I never thought I’d see one in action.”
Jarod latched on to the statement. “One of what?”
“Taggers. Theoretically, they will attach and breach the hull.” Fascination fought with dread in Buton’s tone. “Once we have crashed, the satellites act as a homing beacon to trace the wreckage.”
Jarod turned to face Simon. “Can we burn them off in descent?”
Simon just shrugged. “How the hell would I know? Do I look like a weapons expert?”
Their leader turned to Buton once more, looking for answers. Or at least support. Buton gave it to him.
“Of all the illogical options, it is the most logical.”
Jarod punched the button for the booster rockets. Metal screamed as they began to enter the Earth’s upper atmosphere.
Buton sat back and tried to calm his breathing. For better or worse, they were committed now.
* * *
Rob’s eyes were glued to his instruments and the screens showing the ship’s outer hull. He watched a Tagger rip free and almost collide with the ship that still trailed them. That would’ve been an added bonus. He called up to Jarod.
“They’re hangin’ on. We lost one, but the others’ll have hull contact in forty seconds.”
Jarod yelled out to the crew. “Hold on! I’m gonna try some spin!”
“I don’t know. The ship’s hull tension?” Simon’s worry for his baby read clear in his voice.
“C’mon, have faith in your baby, Simon.” Jarod grinned a d
eath’s head smile at the little man, yanked the controls and twisted viciously.
The Eureka barrel-rolled down through the upper atmosphere, almost completely out of control. Rob watched as light after light went from green to yellow…to red. The heat and torque were incredible. But, between those two inescapable forces of nature, Rob watched as another Tagger ripped away from the hull.
Rob whooped. “Yes! I think they’re all off!”
He looked up toward the cockpit, where Jarod’s face and his bulging biceps clearly showed the signs of strain. Cleo tapped him on the shoulder.
“We can stop spinning now.”
Jarod choked back, “Working on it!”
The spinning-downward progress continued, as suddenly an ominous whoosh sounded throughout the cabin. Mia, a hawk watching her instrumental prey, called out.
“Engines one and three out…dammit! Two, now four.”
Rob watched Jarod’s arms shake as he tried to steady their course. Veins in his forehead stood out in stark relief. He called over his shoulder.
“Get ’em back, folks…I need power!”
Everyone sprang into action, all doing what they could to get the engines back online while the ship was still in free fall.
After adjusting several knobs, Cleo called out, “Try it now!”
Mia flipped several switches, but nothing happened. She flipped them all again with no result. Her movements began to get more and more frenetic with each pass.
Buton started to get up from his place at the computer. “This is useless. We’ve got to manually reset them—”
Rob sprang up, ready to do his part. “Got it!”
He ran back to the engine compartment and pulled off the cover. As he studied the panel in front of him, a sharp hiss sounded in the tight space. Rob looked closer and found another Tagger, its red-hot titanium claws ripping through the hull. Rob stared the mechanical monstrosity square in its glowing eye.
“Compared to a hammerhead, you ain’t nothing, buddy.” Rob hit the manual restart and then turned to face the next menace to their ship. This Tagger was going down.
Rob careened off the wall as the ship bucked. He stood up, shook himself off and then bent down to remove one of his artificial legs. He leaned in to taunt the mechanical terror.
“How’d you like a little liquid nitrogen?”
Like something out of one of his second-to-worst nightmares, a tentacle whipped out from the embedded Tagger and jerked the leg away from Rob. The tentacle squeezed tightly, crushing the prosthetic limb and then flinging the broken pieces across the room.
“Hey, I needed that!”
He glared at the monstrosity, then hopped backward, hitting a button on his knee that released a stream of liquid nitrogen from the portion of the prosthesis built into his actual leg.
“Didn’t know about my backup supply, didja?” The spray froze the Tagger in place, effectively sealing the hull.
Rob leaned back against the wall and surveyed his handiwork.
“One spray kills ’em dead.”
He should talk to his orthopedic surgeon once they got back. Rob was pretty sure he had just found his doc a new marketing catchphrase.
* * *
Buton could do nothing more. Rob had gone back to take care of the restart, but as of yet, they had been unable to get the engines back on line. Strange g-forces whipped them back and forth as the ship did what gravity and inertia told her to do.
Buton glanced around the hold. The entire ship was focused on the fight Jarod was waging with the controls as the Eureka continued to spiral out of control. The entire group held its breath. Without power, they were all helpless to do anything but continue to run through the startup routine over and over again.
Watching the instrument panel in front of Mia, Buton saw lights flickering. It was brief, but it was enough to inspire a bit of hope. He called out to her.
“Try it again, Mia!” Mia hit the button.
The ship rumbled as the engines restarted. A ragged cheer burst from the lips of everyone aboard, all at once. Giving one mighty heave to the controls, Jarod righted the ship, and the random forces exerted on the crew abated. Jarod turned partially around as he grinned at his team.
“That was fun, huh?”
Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief, followed by light smatterings of chuckles. Relief had turned even Jarod’s jokes into something somewhat humorous.
Buton began to run through the ship’s damage report, looking to see if there was anything that would keep them from being able to land. In spite of all the red, he was shocked but relieved to see that most of the damage was to the exterior of the hull. Now that they were past reentry, that was no longer their biggest priority. Buton was just thankful that they had managed to make it through the upper atmosphere.
A beeping from the control panel caught Buton’s attention. He pointed out the flashing lights to Jarod, who did a double take at the readout.
Buton turned around and watched as the rear view screen filled up with advancing fighter jets. From the missiles radiating out from the planes, Buton had to assume they were hostile.
Jarod spoke to the general air. “Welcome back to Earth, folks.”
Buton sighed and returned to his post, doing what he could to help keep the ship together during their evasive maneuvers. Welcome back to Earth, indeed.
* * *
Gil had to admit he was impressed despite himself. Impressed, but enraged. When Jarod had eluded the police cruisers back on the Moon, there had been moments of flying that deserved some acclaim. But really, Jarod had just been running from Rent-A-Cops.
That Jarod had dodged all the missiles launched from the Eclipse? Again, some fancy footwork, but… Meh. Because of the doctor’s interference, nobody was really trying to actually hit them.
But when Gil had watched the creepy satellites open up into those incredible metal predators while the Eureka floated right into the middle of them, he thought they had been gone for good. Gone with a nice tracer attached to their hull for good measure.
Gil had begun tallying up his share of what he knew in his gut was the haul of the century. Century? He was thinking small. This was the haul to beat all hauls. Nothing would ever compare to this.
But once more, in spite of all the odds against him, Jarod had somehow managed to pull it off. The crazed spin into the upper atmosphere, shedding Taggers like fleas. The cutting out of the engines—with the restart at the last second. The spectacular recovery from a near-flat spin.
Gil wanted to kill someone.
He called Talon over. “I want you to contact all our backers planetside. We may need some backup once the Eureka goes down.”
Dr. Weigner was watching the planes now swarming around the Eureka like flies at a picnic. Gil grinned as the missiles came closer and closer to hitting their mark. Weigner burst out at Captain Stavros.
“Where is our Air Force cover?”
Stavros, his lips tightly pursed, pointed to several of the jets attacking the Eureka, the American flag plainly emblazoned on their sides.
Weigner was clearly losing control. “What are they doing? We need that ship!”
Gil watched the battle in front of them, mesmerized. “Classic feeding frenzy.”
There was nothing in the world quite like it. Didn’t matter if it was sharks, jackals or good ol’ homo sapiens. The lizard brain had apparently taken over here, and Gil was having a blast watching.
Weigner, on the other hand, was having none of it. “I need access to the ship’s Super Nova array.”
Captain Stavros made a chopping motion with his hand. “We are not authorized—”
Weigner stepped forward and stabbed a trembling finger at the screen, his face contorted. “Why do you think they put the damn thing on this craft? For a moment like this!”
The two faced each other for a long moment. The tension in the air was palpable. Finally, Stavros turned to the crew to grant his approval, although the frown on his
face seemed to say that he was far from happy about it.
Gil had to restrain himself from rubbing his hands together. “I have a feeling I’m going to like this.”
CHAPTER 15
Aboard the Eureka, above the Pacific Ocean
April 1, 2049
0728 hours, GMT
Cleo was positive that she was about to die.
Yes, there had been many, many times over the last couple of weeks when she would have said the same thing, but none of those moments compared to what was happening right now.
After all the near misses, the close calls, and the impossible escapes, this was it. Close to twenty fighter jets surrounded their ship, each one unloading its missiles and ordinance. She could see at least three different flags on the planes around them. One of them was the Stars and Stripes. Half of the fighters were unmarked.
Looking at the damage report over Buton’s shoulder, she saw that they had been hit by more bullets than she could count and had come close to being hit by two missiles that exploded close enough to do real damage. The jets were closing in more and more by the second.
Cleo was just sorry that so many of her last memories with the crew were of her arguing with them. She may have started out as a “date” who had conveniently known marine biology like the back of her hand, but she had become so much more than that. This crew was her family. And it looked as though she was about to lose them all in a fiery explosion over the ocean.
As five more jets zoomed toward them, Cleo closed her eyes and resigned herself to the inevitable.
Then Buton called out, “Look!”
Her eyes popped open, and she saw the Eclipse barge its way into the center of the cloud of planes. The sudden presence of the obviously military ship created a strange reaction in the fighters swarming around their ship. The only way Cleo could describe it was that they were flying with caution. They clearly had no idea what the Eclipse was there to do. For that matter, neither did Cleo.
A ship that large had even less maneuverability than their falling-apart relic. There would be no evasive action as far as the Eclipse was concerned. What on Earth was she doing out there? Was this some kind of quarterback huddle to coordinate the attack against them?
Got Thrills? A Boxed Set (A McCray Collection) Page 46