by Piers Platt
“Ready, ma’am.”
“Starfarer, Starfarer, this is CGS Extremis. Power down all non-essential ship functions and prepare to be boarded, over.” She covered the microphone and turned to Chief Risley. “Boarding team?”
“Standing by, port-side hatch, ma’am. They’re looking forward to a bit of a fight, if I’m not mistaken.”
Jiyake cocked an eyebrow. “We’ll see.” Through the viewport, the Starfarer had begun to spin slowly in place, driven by the hull leak. Then Jiyake saw some kind of foam expand out of the inside of the Starfarer’s breach – the atmosphere stopped leaking out a moment later. The commander keyed the radio microphone again. “Starfarer, this is CGS Extremis. You have one minute to respond or we will assume that you remain hostile, and we will open fire again, over.”
The radio stayed silent.
“Will you really shoot them again?” Detective Adnan asked.
“No,” Jiyake said. “But this will tell us what to expect when the boarding team goes in. If they respond, we can simply dock and walk on board to arrest them. If they don’t respond … well, the team has some rather unpleasant tactics they can use to subdue the crew in that scenario.”
“Don’t respond, don’t respond …,” Chief Risley muttered, crossing his fingers.
“Ten more seconds,” Jiyake said, watching the clock at her station.
“This is the Starfarer,” a harried voice said. “All systems powered down. Board when ready. We surrender.”
“Aw, man,” Chief Risley said.
Jiyake allowed herself a smile – the first in a long while.
Chapter 36
Falken checked that Vina’s safety line was securely tethered to the Liberty Belle’s deck, and then gave her a thumbs up, holding his gloved hand up in front of her space suit helmet.
“You’re good,” he told her.
“Okay,” she said.
Falken pressed a button on his space suit’s wristpad. “Drop the ramp, Captain,” he radioed.
The ramp slid open on cue, the upper atmosphere of Olympus below. The planet’s curved surface was neatly bisected by the sun’s light – half of it stood shining, gray and green with white clouds, while the other side stood dark and foreboding in the shadow of night. Beyond the open ramp, two circular life rafts floated, spinning slowly – Falken could see Adrenaline Junkies stenciled in black paint along the side of each of them.
He turned and took hold of the double joysticks mounted into the wall, and watched as the cargo arm unfolded from the ceiling, swinging smoothly out into space. Then he extended the arm, opening its grasping claws.
“We’re slipping away a bit,” he told Muir, over the radio.
“Sorry,” she said. “Tough maintaining relative position with only one engine running.”
“Reverse a hair,” Falken told her. “There.”
The nearest raft drifted into range, and Falken managed to trap it with the arm on his first attempt. He reeled it in, carefully holding it close over the floor of the bay.
“Stand back,” he told Vina. “It’s gonna drop when I release it, since the artificial gravity’s on in here.”
He checked to make sure she was clear, and then let the raft drop to the deck.
“Okay, strap them down,” Falken said.
He turned and pushed the cargo arm back out of the ramp, and after a moment, caught the second raft. A minute later, it sat on the deck next to the first raft, and Vina bent down beside it, hooking it to tie-down points in the floor.
“Got ‘em both, Muir,” Falken said. “We’re ready to repressurize back here.”
“Nice,” she said. “Be down in a second.”
Falken watched the ramp close again, then unhooked his safety tether and crossed over to the nearest raft. Inside, he saw Quiss and a handful of tourists, waving and smiling. He waved back. There was a loud hiss of air, and the lights in the bay switched from red to green. Falken popped the collar on his space suit and lifted the helmet off.
“It’s safe,” he told Vina, and bent to help her begin climbing out of her own suit.
Quiss stepped out of his life raft’s hatch.
“Hey, Quiss,” Falken said, pulling Vina’s helmet off. “Good to see you again.”
“Same.” Quiss gripped Falken’s free hand and then leaned in, slapping him on the back. “You look like you’ve been through hell, mate.”
“It’s been a long day,” Falken admitted.
“No shit,” Quiss said. “Sorry again about Greban.”
“Thanks,” Falken said.
Hylie appeared a moment later, as their guests began to spill out into the bay. She smiled at Falken. “Thanks for hauling us in,” she said, walking over and patting him on the shoulder. “How are you?”
“Alive,” Falken said.
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s an accomplishment, today.”
Muir hurried down the steps into the bay, and jogged over to the group.
“Is anyone hurt?” she asked. “Anyone need medical attention?”
Hylie turned. “Uh, no,” she said. “We’re all fine, thanks.”
“Okay,” Muir said. “Well, you can all head back to the same cabins you flew in on for now. And there’s food in the cafeteria. We’re gonna be here over Olympus for a couple more hours, I think, but we’ll be heading back to Harrison’s Waypoint soon.”
Hylie gave Falken a quick hug, and then she and Quiss followed their guests up the stairs. Falken, alone with Vina once more, took a deep breath, then let it out.
“Come on,” he said, lifting their helmets in his arms. “Let’s go put these suits away.”
* * *
Commander Jiyake and Detective Adnan watched as the boarding team hauled the surviving crew of the Starfarer to their feet. Amidst several other crew, Jiyake saw Captain Auresh, one arm in a sling, glaring at her – he stood beside an older man with a pony tail, who she recognized from her web searches as Cadellium, the investor. Cadellium avoided her gaze, staring at the wall in silence. Then her crew marched the prisoners out of the ship’s cargo bay and through the docking tube into the Extremis.
Jiyake shook her head. “Not sure our brig is big enough to hold all of ‘em,” she observed.
The commander turned and surveyed the large metal shipping container in the middle of the bay. Its door lay on the floor several yards away, and at several points around the bay, large pools of blood were slowly drying.
“What a mess.”
“This place looks like a war zone,” Adnan said.
A Colonial Guard crewman stepped past them, excusing himself. He held a camera to his face, shooting continuously.
“You’ll pull their security camera footage, too?” Adnan asked. He pointed at cameras mounted around in the corners of the bay.
“Yes, sir,” the crewman agreed.
“That ought to be interesting to watch,” Jiyake said. “Actually, on second thought, not sure I’m up for a snuff film right now.”
Jiyake’s wristpad buzzed at her. “Go, Chief,” she said, tapping on the screen.
“Liberty Belle’s requesting permission to dock with us again,” Chief Risley reported. “They’d like to check on their friends they dropped off in the sick bay.”
“Granted,” Jiyake said. “I’d like to meet this Falken character.” She turned to Adnan. “Coming?”
“Yeah,” he said.
He followed her along the docking tube, then through the cutter’s maze-like below-decks areas, until they arrived at the starboard-side docking tube, on the far side of the ship. Captain Muir stood waiting there with a younger woman and a tall man whose shoulder was wrapped in a bandage; he had the toned look of a professional athlete.
“Vina and Falken,” Muir said, introducing them. “This is Commander Jiyake and …?”
“Detective Adnan,” the detective said, offering his hand to the trio.
“Nice to meet you guys,” Falken said. “Thanks for everything.”
“You bet
,” Jiyake said. “We’re going to need a full statement from you – all three of you, actually – but that can wait until we get back to Harrison’s.”
“Sure,” Falken said.
“Come on,” Jiyake told them. “This way to the sick bay.”
They followed the commander up several levels, and through a hatch into a long room with curtained bays. The ship’s surgeon was washing his hands at a sink – he nodded when he saw them.
“Good timing, Commander,” he said. “Just finished surgery.”
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Smoothly. The bullet managed to miss Mr. Talus’ major organs, though it did nick a kidney. I took the bullet out and sealed the wound; I don’t anticipate any post-surgical issues.”
“Can I see him?” Muir asked.
“You can peek into his bay, but he’s sedated right now,” the surgeon explained.
“I’ll go take a look,” Muir said, stepping past him into the bay.
Falken caught sight of Raynard, sitting up in his own bed. The journalist gave him a thumbs up, smiling. Falken and Vina walked over, with the others in tow.
“Ice cream, huh?” Falken asked, smiling. “Did you get a sticker and a super-hero band aid, too?”
“Hey, they offered,” Raynard shrugged, eating another spoonful. “And I was hungry as hell.”
The surgeon stepped over to Raynard’s bedside and adjusted an intravenous drip.
“Mr. Barrington here is still a little dehydrated, but otherwise there was nothing for me to do in terms of his wound,” the surgeon said, pointing at Raynard’s leg bandage. “You can tell the research center scientists they did a nice job working on him. I’m officially impressed.”
“I’ll tell them,” Falken promised.
Raynard put his ice cream down and held out a hand – Falken took it. “Listen,” Raynard said, turning serious. “Thanks. Thanks for taking care of us down there.”
Falken shook his head. “Look, I was just doing my job,” he said.
“Maybe,” Raynard said. “But the more I think about it, the more I think that none of us would have made it if you hadn’t been there.” He smiled. “And it’s going to make a hell of a story for my article on Olympus.”
“You’re going to write about it?” Falken asked.
“Are you kidding?” Raynard snorted. “I have to write about it – my editors would kill me if I didn’t.”
“We’ll likely ask you to hold off on publishing anything until after the trial,” Detective Adnan said, showing Raynard his badge.
“Ah,” Raynard said, looking disappointed. “Right. Forgot about that.”
“I’m sure it’ll be a great story, whenever it comes out,” Vina told him.
The surgeon pulled the curtain aside for a moment, revealing Shep in the next bay over. He was awake, his head wrapped in a thick gauze bandage – his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of them. Falken noticed that his left hand was handcuffed to the bed’s metal frame.
“One of the ones who kidnapped you?” Detective Adnan asked Falken.
“Yeah,” Falken said, stiffly. “He and his brother were passengers on the Ecolympus. I think they smuggled a bomb into our cargo hold when we docked with the Liberty Belle. Then they took us hostage once we made it to the research center. Shep’s the one who shot Talus.”
Shep glared at them, his mouth set in a thin line.
“Which one is his brother?” Jiyake asked, pulling a note pad out of her pocket, with a list of names of the crew they had arrested on the Starfarer.
“Kuda,” Falken said. “He’s not on your list. He was killed by dragons while trying to break back in to the research center.”
Shep’s gaze bored into Falken. “I’m going to kill you for that,” he said, softly.
“You’re going to jail,” Falken told him. “Tell Archos I said ‘hi.’ ”
“What?” Shep asked.
“I think we should let you rest a bit longer,” the surgeon said hastily, pulling the curtain closed again.
They bid farewell to Raynard, and then Jiyake showed Muir, Vina, and Falken back to the Liberty Belle.
“Trying to create an immortality drug,” Adnan mused, as the five of them stood at the docking tube. “That’s really going to be a thing?”
“It might be, soon,” Falken told him.
“No wonder they went to so much trouble – this whole operation,” Adnan said, gesturing at the ships.
“That reminds me: did you guys find a data storage plug on the Starfarer?” Falken asked.
“Yes,” Jiyake said. “Cadellium had one on him. It’s in our evidence locker now.”
“That’s the one,” Falken said. “Keep a close eye on it, the research team is going to want that back when you’re done with it. That has all their data and findings on it, and it’s the only copy left – Cadellium deleted their server down at the research center.”
“Got it,” Adnan said. “I’ll make sure it’s returned to them, intact.”
“Okay, I need to oversee getting these ships loaded back inside the Nakimo,” Jiyake said. “Remember: full statements when we get back to Harrison’s. I know you’re probably tired, so rest up a bit, and then we’ll chat once we get in. I’ll send someone from my crew to come pick you up.”
“Okay,” Falken said.
Inside the Liberty Belle, Muir turned to climb to the bridge.
“Do you need an extra set of hands on the bridge?” Falken asked.
Muir shook her head. “I flew this thing for years before hiring Talus,” she said. “I got it.”
“Okay,” Falken said. He felt his stomach rumble, and turned to Vina. “Are you hungry? I’ve been trying to remember when the last time we ate was.”
“Breakfast?” she guessed. “Anyway, I’m starving.”
They found several Adrenaline Junkies guests in the ship’s cafeteria, eating and talking animatedly about the day’s events. Falken and Vina picked out food and sat down away from the others, seeking a little privacy by mutual, unspoken agreement. They ate in silence for a time, and then Vina took a sip of water.
“Thanks for coming after me,” she said. “Up on the aerie.”
“You thought I was gonna just leave you up there?” Falken asked.
“I thought … I dunno. I was just scared.”
“Well, you did great,” Falken said.
She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. Her hand was warm, soft – it looked tiny and delicate in Falken’s large fingers.
“I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” Falken said, somewhat embarrassed.
“Do you always keep your word?” Vina asked.
“I try to. I didn’t use to. But I try.”
Captain Muir walked into the cafeteria then, carrying a datapad.
“Hey guys,” she said. “Extremis is asking for a roster of all survivors, just for records. Falken, I got you. Vina, what’s your last name?”
“Weaver,” she said. “Vina Weaver.”
“Got it,” Muir said. “Thanks.” She turned and headed over to the other guests.
Falken, startled, was studying Vina’s face.
“What?” she asked.
“I knew a Sef Weaver, once,” he said.
Vina’s jaw dropped open. “My father’s name is Sef.”
Falken nodded. “I met him about eleven years ago.”
“No,” Vina said, her frown deepening. “You must be thinking of someone else. My father was already in prison then.”
“Sef Weaver from Lawson County, Texas,” Falken said. “He was a rare book dealer. He had a wife named Elize, and two kids – a son … and a teen-aged daughter.”
Vina covered her hand with her mouth. “Oh my god.”
Falken lowered his voice. “I did time with your father. Before all this.”
“You were in prison?” Vina asked.
“Yeah,” Falken said. “Your father and I spent a lot of time together. But … I wasn’t sure if
he was real or not.”
“What do you mean?”
Falken sighed. “It’s complicated. I’m not sure I can say much more.”
“Okay …?” Vina said, confused.
“We were good friends. And he’s the main reason I’m no longer there … I owe him a lot. Where is he living now?” Falken asked. “I’d love to see him again.”
“You can’t,” Vina said, shaking her head sadly.
“What? What happened?” Falken asked, frowning in fear.
“Nothing happened,” Vina said. “He’s just still in jail.”
Keep reading for an exclusive excerpt from Return to Oz, Book Three in The Falken Chronicles:
Falken followed Captain Peshai out of the changing room and down the ship’s corridor. He shivered involuntarily, but whether it was from the thin inmate’s uniform or nervous anticipation, he could not tell. The warden led him to a wide hatch flanked by a pair of guards. Above the hatch, Falken saw a phrase stenciled into the frame: All truths are easy to understand once they are discovered; the point is to discover them. – Galileo Galilei.
A wry smile flickered across his lips. The sneaky bastards were planting clues all along, and I didn’t even notice.
“Last-minute addition here for you, gentlemen,” Peshai told the two guards, jerking his thumb at Falken. “Take him inside, please.”
The guards looked Falken over, and he felt a flash of fear, feeling certain that they would refuse and raise the alarm. Instead, the two men simply nodded.
“Yes, sir,” one said, his expression neutral. The guards took Falken by the elbows, guiding him smoothly into the dimly lit room. Inside, tiers of surly-looking inmates sat waiting, medical technicians hovering beside them, making final arrangements to their equipment. Falken’s guards buckled him into an empty seat, and a medical technician began hooking him up to a monitoring device. At the front of the room, Falken saw Peshai take his place facing the gathered inmates.
How many of these rooms are there on board …? Falken wondered. Weaver’s here, somewhere on this ship … maybe just a room or two away.