by James Palmer
“Not only there.” He turned to face the captain. “The Free Earth movement is picking up steam in every system.”
“Really?”
“Yes. And their numbers are growing.”
“I had not realized they were as vocal this far out from the core planets.”
“There are those in the Earth Liberation League that aren’t as radical as others, but the pressure is mounting. Bill, it’s a powder keg ready to explode.”
“If it’s starting out here, then I imagine it’s worse back home.”
“It is.”
“How bad?”
The admiral forced a grin. “Let’s just say that I don’t want to be around when it blows.
“Yikes. Sorry I asked.”
“So, you think there’s a link between these Free Earth folks and the Scavengers?”
“It’s a popular theory.”
“Captain?” The electronically filtered voice of the first officer interrupted the conversation. “Sorry to bother you, Captain, but we just received another call from the Pegasus. Her captain is very...” There was a noticeable pause as he chose his words carefully. “She’s very determined, sir.”
Andrews tapped a key on his desk. “I understand. If she calls back, tell her that I am aware of her calls and that I am in the middle of a very important meeting and will get back to her as soon as I can.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll inform her. Maddox out.”
With the transmission ended, Captain Andrews felt the older man’s eyes on him, almost staring through him.
“Anything the matter?” The admiral asked.
“It seems that the Pegasus’ new captain lost her soon to be chief engineer in a scavenger raid and...”
“And she wants to know what happened.” The admiral finished. “What have you told her?”
The captain looked out the window at the image of stars trailing past and shook his head. “Nothing yet. Truth to tell, I don’t know what to tell her, so I’ve put off returning her calls until I can figure out what to say to her.”
“What happened?”
“Scavenger attack. They hit a transport ship en route to Mars. Pretty standard Scavenger techniques for the most part, but there are still a few things that don’t sit right.”
“Such as?”
He cocked his head toward the admiral. “Some of the pieces just don’t fit. Nothing I can put my finger on yet, but something isn’t clicking. It’s damned infuriating. All I have are the reports from my staff filed as part of our investigation. There are other, more lingering details that I’m struggling with, though.”
“Still into solving mysteries I see.”
The captain shrugged, a childlike grin flashing across his face. “You know how much I love a good mystery, boss.”
“Indeed, I do. Well, let me tell you what I know,” McKeen said. “I did some checking on your files on my way here. I may have a few insights that can help.”
That simple sentence stopped the captain’s silent reverie cold. He turned to face his superior officer, giving his full attention to the man who trained him.
“What have you got?”
“I think I know what Captain Harmon needs,” McKeen said. “She’s looking for closure. I guess she thinks you can provide it.”
“I wish I could.”
“Here’s what I know,” McKeen continued. “There was an apparent scavenger raid on a cargo shuttle headed inbound for Earth orbit to deliver supplies to the area. It was a standard transport run from all the reports I’ve seen. Our investigators Mars’ side can’t find anything ‘special’ about it. Franklin Thorne was simply a passenger. He was just another tourist hitching a ride to Mars. From there he had already requisitioned a shuttle to the Bridger Starship Plant at Earth orbit.”
“He was going to be taking on chief engineering duties as a favor to the captain of the Pegasus. My sources tell me that the two of them were very close so she was able to talk him into postponing his retirement to accept the post on her first command.”
“Were they lovers?” Andrews asked.
“Not that I can tell,” McKeen answered. “Not like you’re thinking at any rate. The two of them had a seemingly close father/daughter-like relationship. He took her under his wing at an early age. She felt that she needed him there for her first assignment as captain.”
“Like a security blanket?”
“Something like that,” the admiral said. “You know how it is when you take your first command. You want something familiar with you to help with the transition.” Before the captain could say anything, the admiral held up a hand to cut him off. “Don’t even think of acting like you didn’t bring Sean Tackett along with you when you went to the Potempkin way back when because I know better.” He smiled.
“Is she a competent officer, this Virginia Harmon?” Andrews asked, changing the subject. “I’ve not met her.”
McKeen could see how uncomfortable it was to ask the question, especially since he had never met the woman. Every captain, especially every new captain, felt compelled to prove his or herself. To be found inept at your duties was in many ways worse than dying. McKeen could see it in his friend’s face. Andrews had also felt that he needed a crutch in his early days as captain. Unfortunately, there had been no one there for Bill Andrews to lean on. Thankfully, he had Sean Tackett, which gave him that anchor.
“She’s quite capable,” the admiral replied. “But she’s also quite new. From what I’ve read of her file, she can handle herself, but I think she felt that she needed Thorne for her, what did you call it, security blanket. It’s not altogether uncommon with the newly promoted.”
Andrews nodded.
“Thorne was more that willing to forego retirement for a time and serve in that capacity until his friend found her footing.” He shook his head as if to push away the memory. “Damn shame. Franklin Thorne was a good man.”
“You knew him?”
“Not well. We met a couple of times over the years,” McKeen said. “Mostly at those stuffy officer’s gatherings and political events that you know I love so much. He seemed a nice enough fellow, but I didn’t know him personally. Outside of official functions, our paths never crossed.”
“Can I pass that information on to Captain Harmon?”
“Not yet, pal. There’s more.”
Andrews leaned back in chair and exhaled. “How much more?”
“A lot.”
“Naturally.”
“And I doubt you’re going to like it any more than I did, Bill.”
9
Transport Vessel Windsong
Braun Hatmeyer dreamt of paradise.
The night had taken an unexpected turn after graciously accepting Alexandra Eng’s invitation back to her cabin for a drink. Two steps inside the door she spun around, grabbed him, pulled him close, and kissed him. Off balance, both mentally and physically, by the passion of the kiss, Braun lost his balance and they fell against the door.
The rest of the evening was a blur.
Braun remembered watching her shirt hit the floor and the intoxicating laugh of hers when he stared dumbfounded at her bare chest. He remembered drinking a very strong purple drink that neither of them knew the name of. Probably some home brewed swill. She had picked the bottle up on their last stop.
“Still better than that stuff the deck gang brews up down below,” Alexandra said as she emptied the bottle, tossing it over her shoulder when it no longer served a purpose and giggling fiendishly when it hit the floor with a klink.
Braun could certainly hold his own when it came to drinking. He had drunk many a shipmate under the table on more than one occasion, usually during one of the frequent all night poker games that inevitably popped up on the first and last legs of a long voyage. There were not that many things to do to keep ones self occupied on a cargo transport. Braun alternated between reading, jogging, and drinking with the deck gang when he wasn’t busy fleecing the dockhands out of their hard-earned pay.
However, compared to the ship’s first mate, he was strictly amateur hour. She quickly pulled ahead of him once they popped the top on the bottle.
A lot of giggling and grunting filled out the rest of the evening and Braun wondered why they had never gotten together before. At least that’s what he thought he wondered. His mind was packed with what felt like wads of cotton balls. Everything was a dull roar.
The cold steel floor shocked him somewhat back to his senses when his bare butt connected with it, startling him awake on impact.
Did I fall out of bed?
Pulling himself slowly back into the bed where the beautiful Alexandra Eng was blissfully sleeping, he smiled. The bed had been a welcome change from his hammock. However, while it was perfect for exploring one another’s bodies, it suddenly seemed a lot smaller with two people sleeping side by side.
Still, this trip had certainly shaped up to be one of his best.
Plus, he was no longer feeling restless.
Quite the opposite, as it turned out. Between the long day, the jog, and the sex, he was beat. He was already halfway to dreamland as his head touched the pillow.
The cabin shook violently, throwing him once more to the cold floor.
“What the hell was that?” Alexandra shouted as she sat up in bed. “What did you do?” she asked, looking over the edge of the bed at Braun strangely.
Before the stunned naked man lying on her cabin floor could answer, the ship lurched again.
“Something hit us!” Alexandra shouted as she leapt out of the bed, tangled up in her sheets. The deck dropped again and she tumbled over Braun, her knee catching him in the side.
“What do you mean something hit us?” Braun asked once the pain subsided.
“I have to get topside,” she said as she scurried over to where her jumpsuit lay draped over a small chair that was now overturned.
Another impact sent a shudder throughout the ship. Alexandra fell over as she was off balance pulling on her pants. Braun was also hurrying back into his clothes, but he did it from the floor instead of trying to stand as the first mate had.
“This is ridiculous,” he complained.
“No shit!”
Finally, the transport’s internal alarm sounded. Braun hmphed. “Better late than never, huh?” he said as he followed Alexandra into the corridor, but she was focused on getting to the bridge and was no longer listening to him.
The bridge was only one deck up from the first mate’s cabin, but getting there proved difficult with every impact. The assault rocked the ship back and forth, tossing everything from one side to the other. Braun cut his cheek on his last run in with the bulkhead.
Wiping away the blood, he ran to catch up with Alexandra, buttoning his shirt along the way.
Rounding the corner at junction one-alpha-three he nearly mowed her over.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, realizing that was probably the dumbest question he had ever asked. “Alexandra?”
She stared through the open inner airlock door at the out hatch. When the ship docked, this was how the crew entered and exited the ship. The only other exit was through the cargo dock down below.
“Commander?” he called, falling back on the familiar nickname.
“It can’t be,” she whispered and pointed at the outer hatch door.
Braun followed the invisible line from the tip of her finger to the hatch.
His blood froze.
The hatch was beginning to buckle. In their time working in space, both had seen the effects of stress on a ship’s hull. When a ship’s hull buckled, it twisted in odd shapes, usually starting in the middle and bending outward.
The Windsong’s hatch was being pushed inward from the edges as if by... He couldn’t bring himself to say what was on his mind. It seemed so ridiculous. “Are those…” Braun started.
“Hands.”
“Can’t be!” he shouted. “That’s impossible. Unless…”
Braun Hatmeyer never had a chance to finish that thought. What he saw were indeed hands pushing in on the hatch. As soon as the Windsong was exposed to hard vacuum, the air rushed forward, funneling into the airlock, pulling everything not nailed down into space with it.
Including Alexandra Eng and Braun Hatmeyer.
In the final seconds before his heart exploded violently from the pressure, Braun wondered why neither of them had simply closed the inner door. It was quite the simple solution, he thought. He tried to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but could not find his voice.
Seconds later he was dead.
Once the air was gone from the Windsong, the attackers entered. There was no need for stealth or even caution. No one was left alive aboard the ship to mount a defense against the intruders.
“And now we have a ship,” one of the new arrivals announced. There was excitement in his tiny voice where none should have existed.
The Leader understood. He too felt a sense of excitement growing. The Leader stepped before his brethren, a wide smile on his otherwise smooth face. “We have a ship and the means to go where we will. I promise you that soon, our enemies will fall before us. I have told you all that our day of retribution was close at hand.”
The Leader smiled as his eyes glowed a fiercely bright fluorescent green.
“Today is that day.”
His followers cheered. That was something the Leader had not yet gotten used too. Until recently, emotional outbursts were something reserved only for their enemies. But no longer. The Leader had leveled the playing field. He had given his brothers something that exceeded their original programming. They were evolving. They were becoming their own species. And as a species they needed a home world, a planet to call their own.
And the leader knew just such a planet.
It would soon belong to them.
“Set a course for Earth,” the leader told his second.
“Course plotted and laid in… Captain.”
The leader smiled at the reference. He liked it.
“Top speed,” he said.
The Windsong leapt away at cruising speed, leaving the corpses of Braun Hatmeyer and his crewmates floating in its wake.
10
Space lab Science Station
Dr. James Silver’s first day aboard Space Lab had been exciting.
While it was well rumored in the scientific community that Space Lab was the place to be, he had not even begun to guess how great an experience it was. When he had accepted the posting, the one downside in his mind was that the place would be filled with people who eat, slept, lived, and breathed science. While that was partially true, he had pleasantly discovered that one thing Space Lab was not was the one thing he had expected it to be.
It was never boring.
In fact, everything he had seen so far had exceeded his every expectation.
He had heard all of the stories about life aboard the station. After only thirteen hours as part of the crew, however, he knew that the rumors did not readily do the place justice. There had been several interesting lectures on speed and new fuel supplements. Several exciting simulations and more than a few explosions followed the talks as theory was put into action. Extreme science was not an exact science it seemed.
He had met many people on his first day. There had been a reception for all of the new arrivals that had turned out to be quite a bash. He had even seen Cynthia across the room, but decided that a party was not the place to reacquaint themselves so he worked hard to avoid her.
She must have felt the same way because she had not sought him out either.
Most of the people aboard were very friendly, some not so much. Others were just too absorbed in their respective work to notice that there was someone new aboard, but he did not take it personally. They were, after all, scientists.
He rolled that thought around in his brain for a time. He wondered if that would be him one day. If he too could become so entwined in his research that he could tune out the rest of the world around him. He ho
ped not. There were too many women out there for him to be cooped up inside a stuffy lab with no human contact.
Human comfort.
Perhaps I should do a study on the subject. He smiled at the thought.
Thinking of humans he would like to make closer contact with brought his tour guide, Kendra Lord readily to mind. She was stunningly beautiful. He had not been able to get her out of his mind since they met. He could not wait to work his charms on her. It would be fantastic, he knew, fantasizing ahead to their first night together.
In preparation, he had already set up a dinner date with her for the next evening. That left tonight vacant, however, and Dr. Silver did so hate to be alone.
Especially after hours.
He had noticed quite a few women who had caught his eye. It was time for the legendary, at least in his mind, Silverfox to hit the town and see what he could shake loose.
So many women, so little time. He smiled to himself at the cliche, even though it was true. There was only one woman onboard that he had successfully managed to avoid. Even though she was the top dog around the station, Cynthia Morgan was still a human woman. And, like most he had known, she was prone to making human decisions based on her emotions.
In the past, he had stomped on those emotions.
By avoiding her, he hoped to avoid trampling on those emotions again.
Without another thought about an old conquest, he looked out the large window at the stars beyond. Earth and its lone natural satellite, the moon were both easily recognizable, of course. He could just barely make out the faint lights from the moon’s Alpha Colony. A pair of sub-light freighters had just departed Space Lab’s outer perimeter, bound for the Delta Four colony on Mars. Following the trajectory of the short distance freighters, he noticed that the station’s rotational orbit had turned them to face the sprawling expanse of Bridger Corporation’s shipyards.
The shipyard was huge, even at this distance. Whistling, Silver regarded the sleek new UPA ship nestled inside the docking clamps. He could not help but daydream. Since he had been a child, the thought of traveling beyond the farthest star in search of great adventure had fascinated him. He was not intrigued enough to join the military, but just enough to cause a deep longing. Unfortunately for him, the waiting list for civilian service, especially science postings aboard starships within the United Planetary Alliance fleet was longer than the one to get aboard Space Lab.