by M.A. Harris
Hot Shot
“Micah why the hell did the fighters shoot the choppers down? They were heading away.” Paul floated weightless, held down by the straps, as they arched up and away from the ‘Stan. They were heading almost due south; far off the track they would take either back to the Hollow or Luna.
“It was the cover flight leader’s decision that they were getting ready to break off the pursuit and return to the ravine. It was better to down them as far away as possible to pull attention away from our position.” Micah’s voice was a little artificial sounding, he was wearing his helmet since, after takeoff, they had discovered that the ‘Beam’s cabin was open to vacuum. There was an undiscovered splinter hole somewhere in the command cabin.
Paul squeezed his eyes with his fingers, what was done, was done, and he knew the Star Fighters had been as ‘gentle’ as possible taking the three choppers down, none of the aircraft had gone down in totally uncontrolled crashes, hopefully no one had been badly hurt. Emotions swirled but he tramped down hard, fighting to retain control, “What’s done is done, where are we going? And why?”
Micah’s voice was flat, “I don’t want to risk a flight to Luna in this condition, we have to wait for night at the Hollow and I don’t want to risk that either. We have another base set up, you and my people can work on getting the ‘Beam patched while I get orders about where to go from there.”
Paul sighed, “You could have said that before Micah, why don’t you give me the coordinates?”
“I’ve given you the vector you need; I’ll give you the next one.” The comm channel clicked closed. Paul sighed and closed his eyes, he wished he could lean his head back but found that without gravity his head didn’t want to rest at that angle.
“Paul.” Patsy’s voice was diffident.
“Yeah Patsy?” He didn’t open his eyes.
“We’re going to Palalo Sadong.”
Paul found himself bouncing off his straps as he tried to sit bolt upright, “What?”
She grimaced, “That’s where Conti was spending all his time before we got started building Luna Haven. Sally let it slip a couple of times, though she wasn’t supposed to know either. But a lot of the Church elders knew anyway, dad did, and they aren’t happy about it even if Mr. Aristide says it’s OK.”
“Why Palalo Sadong? The place is a cesspit and that madman in charge is one of the up and coming threats to world peace if the BBC and WNN are to be believed.” Paul sputtered.
“AI runs the oil rigs off the coast and the oil tanker port. They’ve built a lot other stuff as well. The Admiral General let AI build a port, sea, air and space, in a valley that’s cut off from the rest of the island. I…I guess it’s supposed to be a backup Earth Port for us if the US gets really nasty about our settling on the moon.”
Paul pressed his head back against the rest and squeezed his eyes closed, fighting back waves of nausea and recrimination. If Aristide worked with animals like the Admiral General there was no telling what he was capable of. Suddenly all his darkest fears about what was going on rose up and laughed at his naivety.
“Paul…Paul, what’s the matter?” Patsy’s voice was plaintive.
He laughed harshly, “You knew about this all along? , and you knew about the Garrison, the MoonBeam, hell even the fighters. And you know I’ve been all but imprisoned at Luna Haven. So what about John VanDoone and his wife? Pats, What about Old Chuck?”
“What!”
“They died to keep this secret Pats. Don’t you realize the kind of power the stack represents? Damn it, we all know Arkan’s thugs have been potting moon probes for the last year and a half, what would it take to start potting satellites in Earth orbit? Hell, you can think of a sovereign state as a kind of protection racket writ large, what’s to stop Aristide ‘taxing’ all satellites, and forcing people to launch all future space cargos using our services. And once he starts down that road who knows where it’ll lead?”
Raoul and Patsy were gaping at him, shocked.
“VanDoone was driving too fast and Old Chuck, he was too old to be clambering around?” Patsy protested.
“Possibly, I don’t know, but their deaths were very convenient for Aristide industries.” Paul snapped back.
Now Conti’s fits of depression over the past few months made sense; he must have known all of this was coming. He couldn’t be angry with his friend, he - Paul Richards – hadn’t really wanted to hear more. It was only recently that the dreamlike edge to his life had begun to fade.
Silence stretched for some time, Paul looked over at Patsy, she was biting her lip, tears trembling on her eyelashes. “You didn’t have your doubts about all this Patsy?”
She shook her head fiercely, “It’s mankind’s destiny to colonize space, go to the stars. Aristide’s been struggling to make that destiny come true with our help. The old guard governments, the old powers won’t want to open space up because it’ll spoil their hold on power. Access to space makes the politics of scarcity obsolete; they’ll be left with empty positions, they’ll have nothing! Everyone can be rich and free…Don’t you see that? I thought you had the dream?”
Paul frowned, “I don’t think it’ll be that easy - but most governments are lumbering brainless monsters shambling along on inertia, they won’t fight because of ideology, just because they don’t know how else to respond.”
She shook her head, “They will fight to hold onto their power, don’t you see that they will try and crush us one way or another. They’ll try and carve space into cantons controlled by the old guard governments, taking all their greed, corruption and violence with them. They will poison space, pollute the clean start mankind can make.”
“Hey Pats, calm down, it’s the Commander you’re yelling at, not your neo lib uncle.” Raoul said placatingly from behind. Patsy jerked and gasped, clasping her lower lip between her teeth, her face a mixture of vexation and worry.
Paul glanced around, “Thanks Raoul,” he looked back at Patsy, who was looking a little mortified, “Patsy, I don’t disagree with the basics of what you say, I just don’t see things quite as bleakly. I know it’s easy to see a world full of conspiracies sometimes but I don’t think it’s conscious most of the time, it’s the zeitgeist, the sum total of all the forces and threads at play in the world at a given time. And if you throw in a big delta, like the Paaly Stack, the zeitgeist is going to shift. No one knows how it will shift. I figure that we have to hope things continue on the arc they have for centuries, towards more tolerance, a better standard of living, more democracy, more freedom, and more ability to live the life you want to live. The world’s screwed up right now, always has been, but when you look back, you realize that things are on the whole getting better not worse, it just seems like things are going to hell because that’s the way we tend to experience our lives.”
There was a long silence; Patsy was looking very nonplussed, Raoul grinned weakly, “Boss, I guess I always knew you were a philosopher at heart.”
Patsy grimaced, and then glanced a bit shamefaced at Paul, “Sorry for going off like that Paul.” She shrugged, “That was me channeling my dad, I get dogmatic when I’m troubled and what you say is very troubling.”
Paul reached over and squeezed her arm, “It’s OK, no bones broken and I like the fact that you have the dream, we share that in full.”
He turned to look at his displays; he wondered for a moment what would happen if he simply turned the Alexis around and headed for the Hollow, or even someplace crazy like Washington, DC. He knew that the space fighters were somewhere near and the ‘Beam was armed, probably well enough to destroy the Alexis and kill them all. Micah might not intend to kill but Paul figured that there would be no way to rescue anyone before the wreckage hit atmosphere and disintegrated. He did some calculations about reentry velocity, given the right equipment one might be able to parachute from this altitude and live, but you’d need some kind of drogue chute as well as a regular one for the final
landing and they had neither, he made a mental note to check that out as another backup.
There was also the issue of Patsy and Raoul, he had no right to risk, to sacrifice, their lives without asking, and given Patsy’s reaction she was unlikely to go along with any crazy attempt to land the Alexis anywhere other than where they were ordered.
“Your vector change is uploaded Alexis,” the voice wasn’t Micah’s. Patsy tapped her comm, “Received Moonbeam.” She tapped the comm off, looked at Paul, “About thirty seconds till the vector change.”
Paul sighed and shrugged, “Go when we hit the basket then Patsy.” She nodded sharply and turned away.
Forty minutes later the image of a great island spread out below them in the display. It was early morning here, on the map overlay of the image a blue icon flashed, in a mountain ringed valley with a broad bay, “PS landing control, the landing silos are ready for you Heavy one, Heavy three, follow normal daytime approach profile.” The voice that came over the comm channel from the ground was well bred American.
Paul tapped his comm, “PS landing control, this is Heavy One, do you have precise coordinates?”
“Heavy One, check your nav library.” The voice was ironically chiding, Paul took an instant dislike to its owner.
Paul almost snapped a reply but Patsy pointed at the screen, it showed the approach and landing coordinates. Paul took a deep breath and let it out, “Have the landing profile PS landing, Heavy One out.”
Twenty minutes later Paul watched the monitor as a canopy rolled over the top of the steep sided concrete crater the Alexis was resting in. The bright light dimmed to a yellow dusk making the empty concrete pit a little less grimly alien.
A few minutes later, once more wearing jeans and a loose shirt along with his old sneakers Paul stood on the edge of the cargo deck looking around. The brightly lit concrete was smooth and new, he could see the marks of a few tires, a patch of what might have been oil or the like and the square spaced scrapes that indicated that one of the Moonships had landed here at least a few times before, other than that it was all but featureless.
“You see the other revetments as we were coming down Boss?” Patsy asked from his left. Raoul was still up on the bridge, Charlie and Steve were also down on the cargo deck, and they also had changed into normal clothes, ready to get to work on the ‘Beam.
“Yeah every few hundred feet for a mile or so that way, no people or aircraft though,” he pointed towards the tall opening.
“Don’t think there’s much in the way of a base force, we might have to hoof it.”
“There is some kind of vehicle here.” Paul pointed at the marks on the concrete.
Patsy shrugged, “Yeah but who knows when it’ll get here. I want to get home as soon as possible.” She headed towards the ladder folded up out of the way.
Paul sighed and shook himself, trying to get out from under the funk, normally that would have been his line - should have been his line. He waved Stevie and Charlie after him as he strode after his suddenly domineering copilot; he wondered if Raoul saw much of this side of her personality.
As they reached the ground there was a rising muttering whine and a low-slung military four-wheel drive charged through the tall entrance and curved on squealing tires towards them. The lone occupant was slouched back with one arm slung over the passenger side seatback, golden blond hair flying in the slipstream of his steed’s reckless passage.
The car made another screeching turn and braked to a stop with a jerk. A pair of insolent blue eyes surveyed them all, quickly settling on Patsy who he scanned with visible approval, “Captain Rick Halberg PS Defense Service, at your command,” he said in her direction.
Patsy went red, while pulling herself up haughtily, and trying to stop from grinning in response.
Paul tried for the rescue, stepping forward and subtly sideways into the military lounge lizard’s line of sight, “Lieutenant, I’m Paul Richards, my people and I need to get over to the ‘Beam as soon as possible, have you come to provide a lift?”
The blue eyes that looked into his were icy, “Captain, Mr. Richards, and if your crew need a lift hop in.”
Paul waved the rest forward, Halberg pulled away with a smooth burst of power, both hands on the wheel. He glanced over, “we’re a little light on staff right now. Just me and a couple of others as ground crew, no mechanics yet.” It was an obvious put down Paul smiled off.
“If you need hot food the canteen’s not much but it’s free, and plenty of it.”
Paul shrugged, “Thanks, I’ll send someone for some grub when we know the schedule. I couldn’t raise Micah on the comm link, did he lose his radios?”
Halberg shook his head with a smirk, “These bunkers were built to sop up just about any radiated signal, it’s all but impossible to send or receive comms once you’re down except through the landing field repeaters which are off while I’m away.”
He glanced over his shoulder at Patsy with a winning smile, “If you folks would like to spend the night more comfortably we have some rooms over in the command center, I can make you pretty comfortable.” The smile, aimed at Patsy, was actually very pleasant.
Halberg left Paul angry but not confused, “The cabins aboard are pretty comfortable and we’d better keep ready just in case, thank you anyway Captain. And thank you for the lift,” this as they pulled into the second bunker and up to the Moonbeam. The other ship’s hatch was open and Rik was on the concrete with a morose expression.
His right arm draped once more over the passenger seat Halberg shrugged his wide athlete’s shoulders and smirked, “You’re welcome Richards. Later.” Almost before Paul’s crew had stepped clear the little vehicle had jerked into motion with a squeal of tires, accelerating away, leaving in a repeat of its entry.
“Wow, where the hell did central casting find him?” Patsy found her voice at last. The tone was a mixture of amusement, frustration and admiration.
Paul shook his head, “Lounging around somewhere in a World War Two movie set I think.”
“Ditto on that,” was Raoul’s disgusted contribution as he slapped his fiancée’s butt.
-o-
The sudden equatorial evening was upon them and the dark just made Paul feel more tired. It had been a long day, and Earth’s gravity dragged unfamiliarly at him, he worked hard to stay in shape on Luna but it wasn’t the same and he had been awake for getting on for twenty four hours on top of that. Then of course there was Micah Tassinara’s straight backed sneering presence, the Major stood arms folded, looking spiffy and well rested after most of the day asleep.
“Rik says the ship is buttoned up and ready to fly, and that with the replacement stacks and other parts ready at the Hollow Moonbeam will be back to full capability in a couple of days, good work.”
Paul bit back a sarcastic reply, “They’re designed to be dependable, easy to maintain, freighters Micah. You just need to avoid getting shot up.”
The mercenary shrugged, “She does what we need. You will be returning to Luna Haven...”
Paul jumped in, “After we’ve gotten some rest, take off early tomorrow morning.”
Micah got red faced and started to speak but Paul shook his head, “We’re all bushed.”
Halberg who’d been an interested spectator up to now spoke up, “Hungry as well, I can have the cook whip up a light early dinner for your crew.”
Paul was surprised at Halberg’s support, “Thank you captain that would be great.”
Micah hesitated, cast a look between Halberg and Paul then shrugged, “Fine, stay with your ship and be off before first light. I’ll tell the Colonel and G...Mr. Howard.” He spun on his heel and walked away.
Halberg had walked over this time, as the two men walked out of the revetment the moonship’s diesels muttered to a stop and the soft growl of the stacks followed them. The creak and rustle of the canopy retracting was the next sound. Paul turned and watched as the still rather startling bl
ack shape lifted away and faded into the blue black sky. Then turned to look out across the hills towards the hidden bay, the breeze off the beach was soft and filled with a pleasant medley of odors, sea side and flowering plants.
“A nice place, all in all.” Halberg said from the dusk.
Paul resisted commenting that it would be nicer without all the concrete, instead, “Thank you for the support, and the offer.” He turned to continue the walk back.
Halberg shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his natty flight suit, “No problem, cook is already cooking for some other, uhh, guests.”
Paul had noticed a big brown chopper, a Sikorsky executive transport he thought, sitting near the operations center when he’d taken a break earlier, “Aristide execs in town?”
“Guests.” There was a nasty edge to Halberg’s voice and the glint of teeth did not really look like a smile.
“I thought I heard thunder a while ago, just before sunset, any weather predicted for tonight?”
This got a chuckle, “Oh we get the odd rumble out of the clear blue sky here; no, clear sky till tomorrow.” Halberg did not explain the chuckle.
Then there was a crack out of the night, followed by a sputter of more, seeming to echo back and forth then fade away, Paul thought he heard a scream.
“Shit, shit,” Halberg snarled as he broke into a run.
“What’s...?” Paul yelped.
Halberg cut him off, “Get back to your ship and button up Richards”
There was another stutter of gunfire and something spanged off the concrete not that far from Paul and he found himself running half crouched. He found that getting shot at, or near, tended to loosen the bowels and make the legs pump hard even when dead tired.
He forced himself to a stop as he skidded into the Alexis’ revetment. Dim blue LEDs showed the ship as a black blot in the center of the pad. He turned and looked back in the direction of the operations building, just in time to see Steve and Charlie run up, both moving fast for older men but without panic, they were both combat veterans.
“Mr. Richards, do you know where Patsy is?” Steve called out when he caught sight of the pilot.
“No,” then he glanced up, “Shit, she was going to check out the cook.”
“Damn it, that’s what I thought!”
Before Paul could think of something to say, to do, there was another shot, another, a sputter of automatic fire, then the heavier thwack of something bigger than a rifle.
“Ma Deuce there,” Charlie called out from where he rested with one knee on the ground nearby.
Then thumps and cracks, suddenly Paul could see the muzzle flashes in the darkness, then came a ground shaking BOOM along with a fiery blossom of fire.
“SHIT, that chopper’s warranty just ran out!”
Paul knew there was nothing he could do for Patsy, but he had a duty to the rest of his crew and the Alexis, “Back to the ship.” He turned, just in time to see Raoul running towards him with a desperate urgency, Paul didn’t even hesitate, he tackled the shorter man and found himself suddenly being pummeled for the first time in his life, fortunately Charlie and Steve were there in the next instant and had the panicking lover restrained.
Paul rolled to his feet, looked back outside, didn’t like the sudden silence out there at all, “Don’t have time for this, we need to go.”
“No! You bastard!” Raoul screamed.
Paul ignored the agony in his friend’s voice, in his own soul, and led the run back to the Moonship with the Mexican raving alternately in English and Spanish at them.
The diesels were muttering and the personnel hatch was open and the steps down. They scrambled up, when Raoul refused to go he found himself lugged up, then bound and gagged and on the scraped up plating in a minute flat.
Paul hesitated then ran to the cargo master position, the flat panels lit up as he ran his hand over the security pad then he hit a highly unusual set of commands. The three panels reconfigured themselves and suddenly he was looking at a simplified flight control setup. The stacks were cycling; enough of them already warm to get the ship off the ground in her light condition. In a few moments the warm stacks were generating power and lift and the rest were on emergency warm up.
“Shee’it, ah didn’t know you c’d do that from down he’ah,” Charlie muttered in his best hick.
“Didn’t want you getting ideas when you’d downed too much moonshine bubba,” Paul cracked back.
“Vehicle incoming!” Steve yelled from the hatch as Paul checked to see if he had a command link to open the bunker’s cover.
Paul swore, got ready to lift through the cloth.
“Oh hell! They have Patsy!”
And Paul froze up, unable to decide what to do.
“Boss, Patsy’s waving! They don’t look like they have guns on her, in fact I there’s a couple of westerners by the looks of them, one a woman, a blond looker,” Steve called out.
A video from high up showed the scene, and while Patsy might not have been in trouble before, or not as much as they had feared, she was now. There were a lot of gaping, angry faces. Now someone had a gun pointing at Patsy as he....she a small dangerous looking girl in dirty fatigues yelled at a slightly older man, who might be a local but was dressed in western clothes.
“Shit, shit, shit, if I had my gun!” Charlie yelped from over Paul’s shoulder.
But they didn’t have any guns and Paul hoped they wouldn’t need them, he ran for the hatch.
He almost got shot for stupidity, about a dozen guns of various sorts and calibers snapped around as he burst out of the hatch without warning, avoiding a desperate last minute grab by a panicky Steve.
He found himself looking down the barrel of a rifle in the hands of one of the local people. There were three dirty and shot up medium army trucks parked in a ragged line halfway between the entrance and the Alexis. Around them their erstwhile passengers crowded, some literally on the ground, obviously wounded. Most were armed, and they looked like they were near to panic as they stared at the Alexis with incomprehension and Paul and Patsy with hostility.
“What kind of filthy lying trick is this you shit,” snarled a loud voice, a massive black man who appeared to be wearing blood spattered western clothes, he spoke with rage, but in a perfect educated American accent.
The tallish slim blond Steve had called a looker, with reason, stepped forward now, put her hand on the big black man’s arm and with the other pushed down the muzzle of the gun a tall Bollywood handsome man had pointing at Paul. She looked at Patsy then at Paul,
“I can explain...” Paul started again.
The blond shook her head, “I don’t think you have anything to explain. Patsy said she had a ship, she didn’t say aircraft at all Sunil. He and his crew were getting ready to get us out of here when you started shooting at him.”
The handsome man looked at her, “What the hell do you mean Julia?” He flicked an angry hand at the Alexis, “That’s what? Some kind of bunker in a bunker, it’s no aircraft, even less a ship!”
The woman, Julia, smiled faintly and shook her head, “No, it’s not an aircraft, it is a kind of ship, if I don’t miss my guess, it’s a spaceship.”
That rocked the man called Sunil, it also shocked Paul almost as much, the woman’s smile got a little wider. “Patsy said it was called the Alexis Aurora, and Aristide Industries built her. She’s named after Richard Aristide’s oldest daughter, Alexis Aurora Aristide. Richard Aristide has one obsession in his life, the conquest of space. When she was very young Alexis asked him if he would name a ship after her.” Julia paused and shrugged, “He said that the only ship worthy of such a name would be the first true spaceship.”
She stopped, Paul was startled to see the tears trickling down from the corner of her eyes, “It would appear that my grandfather remembered what he promised my mother, all those years ago.”
Paul was almost speechless, Aristide’s granddaughter here, with guerillas.
Then he remembered the big chopper and Halberg’s enigmatic comment. Had she been here on some kind of business trip and been kidnapped? It would be typical.
He shook off the shock, letting relief burn through his fear, “She’s right about what the Alexis is, I’d always wondered why Richard insisted on calling her that, he never explained himself, he rarely does. She is a spacecraft, a Moonship; we’ve been ferrying freight to a Luna colony with her and her sisters for the better part of a year.”
“What?” The big black man yelled.
Julia slapped him on the arm, “Dr. Fleck we don’t have time for this, we need to get gone, the Night Stalkers will regroup and bring up some heavy weapons,” She turned to look at Paul, “How long till you can take off?”
Paul shrugged, “As soon as everyone’s aboard, I was just about to get her up when you brought Patsy in.” He hesitated, “We need to get everyone into the crew and passenger section which is several stories up. We need to move.”
Sunil, the obvious leader, waved, “Go get ready,” he turned and started snapping orders to other people. Paul saw people scattering as he turned and sprinted for the ladder snapping orders to his crew as they followed.
Paul turned and ran; Patsy beat him up the stairs falling into Raoul’s arm as Paul sprinted past. He checked the temporary setup on the cargo master panel then locked it and ran for the crew ladder, routines kicking in. As he got to the top the hatch to the service module opened at his touch and he stepped inside, by which time Raoul was on his heels. Paul headed for the cockpit and slid into the command position. He tapped in his key code. A null symbol lit up. ‘Access denied.’ Paul froze…sick horror coming over him. He tapped the code in again. ‘Access denied.’
Patsy was beside him looking at the symbol she turned and yelled, “Raoul, someone locked the command station.”
Paul struggled to get up, “The emergency setup’s working.”
Patsy shook her head fiercely, “Wait.”
Raoul stuck his head around the door, “Try MQZ111 bracket caret close bracket.”
Paul tapped the code in. A window on the small screen opened, ‘system override, input new code’ Paul tapped in the next pass code in the sequence he and the others had memorized, then his personal identifier. ‘Code input, full access, welcome aboard Commander Richards.’
Patsy was already in her seat, she sighed, “Ready to lift on half, others two minutes from ready, five minutes and we’ll be go for orbit.”
Paul was running down the checklist, “Things look good; Patsy, pull up the threat receiver stack, we may need it.” He tapped the display controls, the main displays broke into a series of images showing the interior of the revetment.
Two of the big trucks had been moved so they blocked access into the revetment. They didn’t completely close it off but they would make it impossible for anything to get around them without pushing them out of the way. He saw soldiers on the ground their rifles pointing out.
Paul checked all the telltales, then tapped the ‘launch pad announce,’ button on the mic pad. “Takeoff alert, five minutes to take off, five minutes to take off.”
He checked other cameras and saw people swarming up the ladders and Charlie carefully bundling wounded into the freight lift, Stevie was on the upper catwalk helping get the wounded out. There were a series of grim bundles carefully laid out on the decking near the entrance. Six bodies, there had been fatalities in the trucks coming in.
Through the insulation of the ship’s hull he still heard a crump, he glanced up, one of the trucks was a twisted wreck half blown out of position and burning like mad. Paul was horrified as he saw a flame wrapped figure stagger away from the wreckage. Several other figures leapt on the figure and wrestled the casualty to the ground so they could put out the flames. Other soldiers were firing at whatever was coming.
There was no one on the ground between them and the entrance area, without really thinking Paul rolled in thrust. The Alexis lifted smoothly; as she came off he rolled the controller over, a massive landing pad passed inches above the third abandoned truck. Paul only peripherally noticed the soldiers on the ground as they stopped to watch the Alexis’ approach in gape mouthed shock. Touchdown was a scraping shiver since he hadn’t quite killed lateral motion, but none of the soldiers cared about finesse. They saw rescue and raced for the open cargo hatch carrying their wounded. It was literally only a few steps for most of them and they were all aboard in seconds.
“All clear all around,” Patsy yelled out, “everyone’s out, lift out!”
Paul hit the mic button as he rolled in thrust, “Lift out!” Thrust built up again, he left the controller alone this time, he wanted altitude. The Alexis accelerated up at nearly three gravities, sending the soldiers on the cargo deck sprawling. Paul saw the cloth canopy approaching and hoped it wasn’t particularly heavy or strong. It was neither, they ripped up and out without a shiver. Sunlight blasted in through the opening.
-o-
Julia was on the cargo deck helping the ship crewman load one of the wounded into the rather crude cargo lift when she heard yells from outside, followed a second later by an explosion. She grabbed the weapon she had left behind and headed for the hatch.
Without warning the floor tilted and dragged her down, she collapsed to her knees like everyone else on the deck. The world outside was moving! Soundlessly the huge structure she had called a spacecraft without fully understanding what that had to mean was flying. With no roar or flames of rockets it was flying, she could hear a far away rushing growl but that was all. Then they were dropping towards the burning wreckage of one of the all terrains and the stunned fighters around it. There was a grinding screeching thump and the floor hit her again. As she levered herself up she saw the ex militia troop running full out for their savior.
Julia saw Sunil, helping the female corporal who was dragging a bloody leg. They were almost the last in, a dozen hands pulling them up to safety; people went down with rifles pointed out ready to repel any other boarders.
Then the amplified baritone of the ships commander yelled, “Lift out!” and the floor attacked her again. Pinioned by acceleration that had to be two or three times normal Julia struggled to turn so she could see out the hatch. Concrete walls fell around them and there was a huge tearing as they punched up through the fabric roof. A slug of fresh air rushed through the hatch, and then it slammed shut.
“Everyone to the ladders or get in the blasted baskets, this deck ain’t airtight, we’ll be breathin’ vacuum in a few minutes,” yelled the burly gray haired old man who had been leaping around getting people moving on the cargo deck....cargo deck, on a spaceship….she could hardly pull her mind off that thought.
-o-
Paul rolled the thrust down and pressed the controller sideways taking them towards the sea. “Everyone get off the cargo deck and into the cabin, the cargo area isn’t pressurized and I cannot get altitude with you down there.”
Patsy had brought up a map, “From what I remember of the discussions in the back of the truck the resistance holds some areas on the far side of these mountains, we can go over the mountains but we’ll have to break ten thousand feet to do that.”
“We’ll play helicopter for a while, keep at this altitude and follow the coast until everyone’s up then we’ll do a powered ballistic over the top, we’ll make a hell of a racket going over but I’m beyond caring. There are going to be a hell of a lot of UFO sightings in the old town tonight but screw it, I don’t give a rat’s ass any more. And when we’re done dropping these people off we’re taking the Alexis back to the US. I think LAX still lets private aircraft land.”
Patsy sighed, “I’m with you boss; Julia, Dr. Fleck and Sunil are all Human Freedom Foundation people, they flew in for what they thought was a meeting with a local leader to discuss medical and food aid and got ambushed. The local guerillas came to bust them out but they got the shit shot out of them getting in. The
Staff’s and the Admiral General have been systematically murdering people to take their land, including New Port bay! This has gone far beyond anything the Elders could have known about!”
Paul wasn’t going to argue, though he had his doubts about the last.
Raoul came in from his check, “Hey, get out of my seat girl, you belong up front,” Patsy unstrapped and moved forward, he slipped into the seat in front of the engineering panel, he flicked a look down the threat receiver rack.
Paul glanced over his shoulder, “How are the passengers?”
Raoul grimaced, “Most are fine, a bit overawed, but there are a couple of pretty badly hurt people. I told the doctor that he can use the bed over here but for now he wants them with him. One of the soldiers is rather badly burnt, probably not fatal, but I think takeoff was rough on him and the others. Charlie and Stevie are helping to get them settled.”
The comm panel cheeped, then, “Richards, that was a stupid move!”
Paul shook his head, “Halberg, you had kidnapped Aristides granddaughter and some other NGO people, what the hell were you thinking.”
“Screw that...”
“Ricky, you scum sucking, thieving murderous psychopath, if it is the last thing I do on this earth I will see you kicking air as the rope throttles you!” The pretty blond was standing in the cockpit, fists balled, body shaking, every line and motion seething fury.
“Oh, hey Julia, nice to know you survived this disaster as well,” Halberg’s mockery was thick, then his tone turned cold and commanding, “Richards, turn that flying shit hauler around and bring my guests and their jungle rat friends back here. If you do I won’t press to hard to have you and your crew disciplined, especially if the pretty red head’s accommodating.”
Patsy went red then white.
They were at nine thousand feet and moving laterally, following the curve of the coast towards the resistance’s bastion at about sixty miles an hour. The Alexis was shivering faintly and unfamiliarly as she bulled her unaerodynamic way through the air. The deck was canted at a slight angle and shifted uncomfortably under them as the ship wobbled.
“Halberg, I don’t know what the hell it is you think you are doing, who you think you are, or even what you’ve done, though I can imagine a lot. But I do know you don’t have any way of making me turn back. So, go screw yourself.” Paul shut the comm channel down and looked over at Patsy, then Raoul, looking around the rather distracting figure of their unannounced guest, “Raoul, what do the threat receivers say?”
Patsy was scanning the various exterior cameras, “Don’t see anything outside, and don’t think anyone’s shooting at us.”
Julia was calming down, she laughed shortly, “You probably wouldn’t see them if they were. Modern ammo’s hard to see.”
“Been shot at much?” Raoul asked almost snidely.
“In theater a couple of times flying evac, but more flying for the Huff,” she used the common nickname for the Human Freedom Foundation.
Before he could get over his red face Raoul swore softly, “We have a radar tracking us from seaward, long range, high altitude; I think it’s a US airborne command and control system. I’m getting a dwell so he’s tracking us, I think he’s painting us against the background, he may be picking up glints off the mobile camera mounts as well.”
“Range?”
“Over the visual horizon, probably, more than a hundred miles, there may be fast movers closer in.” Raoul replied tightly.
Stevie spoke from the doorway, “Everyone but Miss Chisholm’s strapped down in the cabin boss, and the airlock’s closed up. We have a bit of an issue though, only suits for the crew. We weren’t expecting passengers this run.”
Paul sighed and shook his head, “Ok, we’ll have to violate safety protocols. Nothing seems to be damaged.”
Stevie snorted, “Guess so. Ah boss, people want some words with you.”
“Mr. Richards?” The deep voice was quiet, almost contrite. Paul glanced over his shoulder to see Doctor Fleck standing braced in the cockpit doorway. Sunil behind him. The doctor’s face was deeply drawn with fatigue and grief, “First, I want to most abjectly apologize for how I reacted on the ground, to you and Patsy. I was just letting fear rule me, I feel terrible.”
Patsy turned, “I’m sorry Dr. Fleck, I should have tried to explain that you weren’t going to see anything conventional, I just couldn’t figure out how to explain the Alexis without you all thinking I was nuts.”
A snorting laugh, “I can well imagine…I still don’t believe it and I’m inside her. You appear to have violated just about everything I thought I knew about classic, or not so classic, physics.”
Paul laughed as well, “We try not to violate too many basic laws, just bend a few.” He drew a breath against the semi-hysterical desire to go on laughing, “We can discuss this at length at some future time, you can buy me a few beers sometime and I’ll try and explain it all. How are your people, the wounded?”
“Not good, one of the wounded soldiers is pretty badly burnt and one of my nurses took a bullet through the torso, she needs a hospital or I may lose her. Is there any way you can take us to some major city? Someplace in Australia?”
Paul tapped a map display up, “Sydney’s almost as close as anywhere, but I can get you to LA almost as quickly, less than two hours?”
He heard the hissing of indrawn breaths behind him, an infantile part of him wanted to grin, it felt good to be back in control of all this power and speed again.
“LA would be very good; Orange County Methodist has one of the best burn and trauma centers in the world. I can keep them stable that long, if you don’t have to accelerate any harder than you did when taking off?”
Paul shook his head, “That was unusual, we’re no speed demon in atmosphere and steady as she goes is just as good when you’re in space. I’ll keep it to a gravity or so unless someone starts shooting at us.”
“Good, LA then?”
“LA it is Doctor, Patsy?”
She nodded, “Already got it plotted boss, no problem, we’ll need to call in though, you planning on landing at the hospital?”
“Why have the ability to land just about anywhere and not use it, hey?” Paul let a little bit of the bubbling hysteria surface and then clamped down on it.
Raoul sounded tense, “We need to scram boss, I’m getting other radar glints, fast movers coming in.”
“Patsy, if you would be so kind, and don’t worry too much about the sound footprint, Just don’t peel off the skin panels, OK?”
“Executing boss.” The floor righted itself and steadied but started to press up harder.