by Joshua James
Fredrich looked sick at the thought. “Of course, Detective.”
Sydal looked at poor dead Mrs. Wright. His HUD took pictures and a full 3D scan of the scene that he could revisit later, after they left. Before they left, though, they had some more snooping to do.
“But first, I need you to show me the entrance to these tunnels.”
“What?” Fredrich looked taken aback by this request. He glanced at Lau, who retained her casual pose.
“The tunnels,” Sydal said. “I want to check them out. How do I get in?”
“That’s not very safe, Detective. Like I said, they’re still under construction. Perhaps I can—”
“Again, Mr. Bausman, this is not a request,” Sydal said carefully. “Refuse to show me the entrance, and you’ll be interfering in an active police investigation and obstructing justice. Do you understand?”
“No,” said Lau.
“Excuse me?” Janis asked. She noted the bodyguards, who took a step in her direction, and countered it with a step of her own toward them. That stopped them in their tracks. It also brought her closer to Lau’s personal space, but the young woman wasn’t shaken or intimidated.
That hardly surprised Sydal. She was a top executive in the biggest company in the universe.
“We understand that you have authority as the police,” Lau said smoothly. “But I have an agreement with those above you, in the military. Lunar police are not to interfere in company affairs. In return, we provide funding to your department and are obligated to report any crimes committed by Waterman-Lau staff, and/or on company grounds. You have no right to explore our property, especially when a crime hasn’t been committed on said property. You can call your superiors if you wish. I’m sure they’ll agree with me.”
“That’s an…interesting interpretation,” Sydal said. “And one I’m not sure my bosses would share with you. If you want to call my superiors yourself, be my guest, but I’m going down into those tunnels.”
Lau raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
Sydal smiled. “Or all of you are coming back with us in cuffs. I’m sure we won’t be able to hold you, but I’m sure someone of your status would like to be spared such an embarrassment.”
“That would surely reflect badly on yourself,” Lau said. She shifted her arms imperceptibly. Sydal was once again struck by how everyone had buttons that were incredibly easy to push if you just found them.
“I’m used to it,” Sydal said with a wink. “The bar is pretty low for me.”
Lau frowned. “I see.”
“I’m—I’m sorry, Ms. Lau,” Bausman said. “I’m not going to jail for this.” He nodded to Sydal. “I’ll take you.”
Sydal had been so busy leaning on the threat of embarrassment for Lau that he hadn’t realized that the threat of jail time, however unlikely, had caused Bausman to practically break out in hives.
Then again, Bausman was a small, meek man, and he was the leader of the Aitken Basin community. If he was arrested, that would surely hurt his chances to get re-elected.
“What’s the problem, Ms. Lau?” Janis sneered. “Do you have something to hide down there?”
Lau turned her head away, probably to escape the smell of stale beer breath mixed with minty gum. “You’re making a mistake,” she warned.
Her two bodyguards stepped forward again, and again Janis stepped up to meet them. “Maybe,” Janis said. “But I’ve got a lifetime of them. What’s one more on the pile? Go on, Rowan. I’ll deal with Ms. Lau and her two goons.”
The goal was to have some alone time with Bausman, but Sydal was worried about Janis. More specifically, he was worried about what she’d do while he was gone. “Sounds good. Don’t shoot anyone.”
“I make no promises. Get out of here.”
“C’mon, Mr. Bausman,” Sydal said. “Time to show me that entrance.”
Eleven
Moonside
Kelso sat in engineering, strapped in with three other members of Orion’s crew. He was still trying to recover from the fold skip, whatever that was. It was probably concerning that the chief engineer didn’t know; but what he did know was how to fix things, and he knew that considering what the ship had been through up to then, he’d be needed.
He felt sick and light-headed. He closed his eyes tight and moaned from distress. No one knew for sure what was wrong with him, but he hadn’t always been like this. Though he didn’t remember it, Kelso had once been normal.
He’d worked at one of the dozens of shipyards on Vassar-1. Once upon a time he’d had a wife, a sister he took care of, and a dog named Rusty. Then the war came calling for him.
Kelso had been drafted into the fighting. He was sent to a mining planet on the outer edges of human-occupied space, called Garan. It was important to both the AIC and UEF due to its rich mineral deposits, including the same metal both sides used for ammunition in their guns and ship cannons. The rare, mildly radioactive material was becoming more and more scarce as the fighting neared two decades.
First in any fold jump came the uncomfortable queasy feeling. Then came extreme g-forces, enough to pin him back in his seat. He hated it. Despite not being able to remember it, Kelso had hated it back before he’d become disabled and a pirate.
While on Garan, Kelso had survived several battles, mainly because he wasn’t on the front lines. His job before being drafted had provided him skills in repair and shipbuilding that the Navy desperately needed. All night and day, ships would come in to their headquarters requiring all manner of maintenance and fixes. The worst cases involved him and his fellow Navy engineers cutting out dead or dying pilots, so that the fighters could be used again.
As was often the case in the most recent years of the galactic civil war, the AIC was losing. The same held true on Garan. Kelso was working on a day that didn’t seem out of the ordinary. He and the other Navy engineers had no clue that the UEF had broken through their lines and were heading straight towards their HQ. A single bomber made it through unscathed and dropped its payload on top of them.
A piece of the HQ garage ceiling had fallen on top of Kelso’s head, splitting it open and rendering him unconscious. At first he was listed as KIA. This news was relayed to his wife back on Vassar-1, who didn’t take it well. Two days after getting notice from the AIC military, she had taken her own life, not willing to go on alone.
There was another big jolt as the Orion came out of the fold skip. Immediately Kelso knew there was something wrong. Sparks were flying all over engineering. Wires shorted, and some instruments just straight up exploded. Smoke quickly filled the relatively small quarters. He, along with the other pirate engineers, quickly unstrapped themselves and went to work trying to repair the damage.
Kelso had woken up on a medical ship. His head was wrapped in bandages, doing nothing for his pounding headache. Worse, he didn’t know who he was or where he was. After freaking out, he was eventually sedated by an AIC medic.
On his way back home to Vassar-1, it was explained to Kelso that he’d been injured and was being sent to live with his sister, the same sister he used to take care of. He also was given the news that his wife was dead, but he wasn’t upset. He’d forgotten he had a wife, or even a sister. Hell, he didn’t even know his own name. What he did remember, though, was machines, ships, and how to repair them.
A missile hit the rear of the Orion. That was unfortunately where engineering was, right next to the engines. Kelso turned to hear a loud cracking sound. Then he watched as, in a split second, the back wall of engineering ripped off, sucking out his fellow engineers. He managed to grab onto a nearby pipe.
Kelso’s sister wasn’t equipped to take care of herself, let alone her older, now disabled brother. She was a drug addict and couldn’t hold down a job. He couldn’t find work because of his mental state. No one trusted him to work on their vessels. It was only a matter of time before they became homeless.
The pipe that Kelso grabbed was extremely hot. It was part of the engine exhaust
system. As his hand burned, he howled in pain. His grip started to slip. Then it did, and he found himself being sucked out of the pirate ship he’d called home for over a year now.
Once they were on the streets, Kelso’s sister further succumbed to her demons. Perhaps they were made worse by her situation and the responsibility of having to look after her big bro. Eventually she couldn’t take it anymore, and had abandoned him. She’d ended up dead a month later from an overdose in the Bowery.
Kelso was terrified at first, as he spun end over end in the air high above Europa. In his spin he caught glimpses of the lush green and black soil of the terraformed moon. It was hard to breathe—not only because of the altitude, but because his screams robbed him of his oxygen.
Kelso wandered the streets of Vassar-1 looking for any food he could scrounge or scrap he could sell. But given his mental state, he wasn’t doing well. It wasn’t until Wan came across him after a night of drinking that his fortunes changed. Wan had seen the AIC engineer tattoo on his arm as he’d held out a cup looking for credits. A veteran himself, the pirate captain knew how good Navy engineers were, and had offered to give him a tryout instead of a handout. Kelso had agreed. That was how he’d come to be a member of the crew.
Even in his lesser mental state, Kelso knew he was about to die. The ground below came rushing up at him as he stopped spinning and stabilized more. He looked and saw the Orion, a big trail of smoke behind it, trying to make a landing on Europa’s surface. Part of him, the part that was still whole, was relieved to see that the ship and his friends were crashing. Then he closed his eyes and saw his wife and sister.
Thankfully, he didn’t feel his end. He simply became a bloody smear on a moon full of corpses.
“Can you land it?” asked Wan in a panic.
Falcon didn’t answer. He had better things to focus on besides Wan’s blathering. They’d survived the missile strike, but the blaring sirens and flashing lights on the command bridge made it clear they wouldn’t be able to fly much further.
“Well?”
Falcon sighed. Not only did he have to stabilize the Orion long enough to be able to land instead of crash, or at least crash with style, but he also needed to find a proper spot to set down.
“We got this!” Clarissa answered before Falcon could. He smiled to himself. He was starting to like the brash woman. He hadn’t flown with anyone in the copilot’s seat in a long time, but she’d done as well as any had, and with any luck, they just might manage to deliver the rest of the crew to the ground in one piece.
“What she said,” Falcon said.
With a combination of good flying, good luck, and the very last fumes of fuel in the landing thrusters, Falcon and Clarissa managed to land the old corsair in the middle of a large field.
Knowing Europa, it was probably covered in mines and booby traps, Falcon thought, but at a glance all he could see was that it was covered in bluish vegetation that grew out of black soil. There wasn’t a building in sight. There also wasn’t a soldier or tank in sight. Falcon was starting to think it was a miracle—
“We made it!” Wan said triumphantly.
“You were a big part of it,” LeFay said sarcastically. She and Ada were still in the jump seats. She held the crumpled form of Tonga in her arms.
“Agreed,” Wan said, a big grin on his face.
Then he started coughing violently. It was so bad he fell out of his captain’s chair. He landed on all fours, coughing up blood that splattered on the floor of the deck. Then he fell on his side and curled up in in a fetal position, still hacking up blood.
“What’s wrong with him?” asked Clarissa urgently.
“Shit, not again,” Falcon said. “Somebody go get the doc!”
Wan woke up in his own ship’s med bay. He looked to his left, and in the bed next to him was Tonga with a bandaged head, chemically knocked out by Congo, who was nowhere to be seen.
This wasn’t the first time the captain of the Orion had had a major coughing fit like that. It came along with his condition. He’d been taking good care of it lately, but all the excitement had stoked it up again.
“Would you like me to tell you a story?” Congo said from the doorway of the recovery room.
“No,” Wan said.
“It’s about a captain with Eruvian Lung who never listened to his doctor.”
“I said no,” Wan reiterated. His throat was scratchy, and he had to concentrate hard to hold off a fresh coughing fit. “I’m fine.”
“You’d be surprised how many people end up in here telling me that,” Congo said.
Wan got up, fighting off the light-headedness that he felt. He grabbed his gaudy coat and jewelry off a hanger near his bed. His crew was in a dangerous place. Making sure that they survived was his only priority at the moment, his own health be damned.
“Don’t suppose me telling you that you need to lay down will dissuade you,” Congo said as she put his arm around her neck to help support his weight as he left the medical bay.
“I need to get us off this damn rock before they find us,” said Wan.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible at the moment.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wan finally couldn’t hold off, and coughed a couple of times. But it wasn’t too bad, and passed quickly. He looked up to find Congo studying his face closely.
“I guess you’ll live,” she said. “For now.”
“All that work on your bedside manner is really paying off,” Wan wheezed. “Where is everyone?”
Congo sighed. “They’re outside.”
“Take me to them.”
“Captain,” she said. “Walking around the ship is one thing, but that atmosphere—"
“Take me outside, Doc.”
Congo shook her head, but she reluctantly helped Wan towards the loading ramp. As they went, they passed by the completely obliterated engineering room. All that was left was a large hole ringed by jagged metal and frayed wires.
“What the hell is that about?” Wan asked.
“Don’t worry about it right now,” Congo said. “You don’t need to elevate your stress levels. We’re working on it.”
Wan snorted. “Don’t get stressed. You’re a real riot, Doc.”
“I try,” she said.
Wan reached the ramp and gingerly walked down it. The first thing he felt was the uncomfortable humidity of Europa. It was harder to breathe, due to less oxygen in the air.
“Are you okay?” Ada asked. She looked at Congo. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” Wan barked, louder than he should have, and had to fight off another coughing fit.
“He can’t come with us,” LeFay said bluntly. She, like the others, was checking weapons and changing into green and black camouflage ponchos that they’d found in Orion’s storage.
“Like hell I can’t!” Wan pushed himself away from Congo. His intention was to try and look strong, but he stumbled on the foot of the ramp and managed to fall to his hands and knees in the dirt.
“Sure you are,” LeFay said dismissively. “You coming, Doc?”
“I can’t,” Congo said, shaking her head. “I can’t just abandon my patients. Not even the stubborn ones.”
“No,” Wan said, still on all fours. He looked at a sprouting plant barely an inch out of the soil. “Go with them, Congo. They’re going to need all the help they can get. The others can look after me and Tonga, and fix my goddamn ship while they’re at it.”
“Captain…”
“Oh, ‘Captain’ nothing! Go! Help them stop whatever those things are. Otherwise we’re gonna have nowhere to go unless you wanna live on the Outer Rim, and screw that.”
Congo helped Wan back onto the loading ramp. Before he went back inside, he turned to LeFay. “You owe me, tin tits. Don’t you forget it.”
LeFay shrugged. “Fair enough.” She gave Wan a once-over. “Try not to die, short stack, so I can pay you back.”
“I’ll start thinking of ways you can repay m
e,” Wan said with a gold-toothed smile.
LeFay laughed. “You do that.”
Ada, LeFay, Tomas, and Clarissa waited for Congo to return with a couple other pirates, whose names none of them knew or would remember. With their party assembled, they ventured out across the surface of Europa.
Wan watched them go.
As beautiful as the terraformed moon of Jupiter was, with towering mountains in the distance, with massive lakes and rivers, with no forests but the starting of many, and the huge planet hanging above them in the sky, it also bore the scars of war. The small group navigated their way around craters from fallen bombs that littered the landscape. Pieces of ships, skeletons still in their armor, and spent shells were everywhere. For every picturesque sight was a horrific one, Wan figured, showing just how good human beings were at killing each other. They finally disappeared over the horizon, headed for the large UEF base that LeFay’s HUD maps had located even as they were crashing. Wan doubted they’d find a welcoming party when they got there, but Ada and Tomas seemed to think they could figure something out. Good luck, he thought. One disaster at a time.
Wan returned to Orion’s bridge. He plopped himself down on his captain’s chair after paying a visit to Tonga, who thankfully was awake and okay, relatively speaking. Soon as his rear hit the cushions of the seat, he sighed and relaxed. He looked out the bridge viewing window at the vast expanse of green and black that was Europa. “So what’s the good word, Falcon?”
“Afraid I don’t have any. Navigation, weapons system, and shields are out of order. There’s a massive hole where engineering used to be, and one of our main engines is shot.”
For Falcon to get out of his seat was a whole process. And with his jacked-in access to the ship’s diagnostic computer, rudimentary though it was, he was in a better position to oversee the repair process than Wan.