“Never mind the ancient history,” Wu said. “We’re more interested in the up-to-date stuff.”
“Yeah, yeah, right. Anyway, he gave me this stuff, and wanted me to identify where they’d come from. We’ve found traces of their work all across the sector, and trying to narrow down where each individual piece originated was a nightmare, I can tell you. A real nightmare. I spent weeks in the lab.”
“Lab? They’ve got a facility?”
“No, no, they hired a place.”
“On Thalassa?”
Nodding, Kruger said, “Bought me some lab time at the local Technical Institute. Anyway, long story short, I managed to narrow it down to five sites. Two of them well-established worlds, and they didn’t seem interested in those. It was the other three they were obsessed with. This was the first one. The others were…” He paused, looked at Garcia, and said, “I just had a thought.”
“We’re all wanted criminals,” Wu volunteered. “Murderers, rogues and renegades. You’re quite safe here. Believe me, art theft doesn’t even register on the scale of our crimes.”
“Good to hear,” Kruger replied. “But before I say anything else, I want it clearly understood that you’re taking me with you when you leave, and that you’re not going to try anything stupid. I want off this planet, and I want to live long enough to come up with some other way to make a living. Got that?”
“Got it, got it,” Carter said. “When we leave, which will be in the near future, you’re with us, and the first neutral port we come to, we let you off. That might not be for a few weeks.”
Shrugging, Kruger replied, “I can wait. As long as I’m waiting in a nice warm spaceship. Where was I?”
“The locations. The other sites.”
“A couple of worlds like this one. Abandoned. Abydos and Tantalus.” He grimaced, and said, “Great names, right? You can tell that there were archaeologists on those expeditions.” Taking another bit of his food, he continued, “Smith offered me more money to go along for the ride. I mean, a lot more money. A hundred thousand credits, a third of it in advance. Which pretty much cleared my legal debts and left me about even at the end of it.”
“And you went along for the ride?”
“After screwing him for publication rights. Book sales are where it’s at, you know. “
“Did you know that they were pirates?” Garcia asked.
“Not until I got on board. I figured they were trade pioneers, and I figured they were probably doing something shady, but half the independent traders in this sector spend most of their time working the grey market. Or worse.” He shuddered, then said, “Once we’d lifted, it became quite clear what I’d managed to get myself into, but by then I’d left it too late to do anything about. I figured I’d just hold my nose, do my job, get paid, and get out of there.”
“You must have figured that they’d never let you live,” Wu said.
He shrugged again, and replied, “What could I do about it at that point, though? I was committed.”
“And they took you here,” Carter said.
“First stop. Fortuna stayed in orbit, and a party came down with a shuttle. I was on it, naturally. They pretty much let me do what I wanted, conduct a survey. Every day Smith would ask me what I found, but they spent most of their time poking around the remains of the colony, surveying the local area. As far as I could figure, they were looking for signs of recent habitation. They didn’t find any.”
Cracking a smile, Garcia asked, “Just out of interest, how did you arrange to stay behind?”
“You think I wanted to be stranded down here?”
“Given the alternative, yes.”
He looked at Garcia, and said, “Too damned smart. I identified some fragments as First Echelon. Right from the beginning of the Gravidic period, pre-space, possibly. That’d make them worth a not-so-small fortune, but it also meant that they’d be heavy. The load was so heavy that it would mean that the shuttle couldn’t get into orbit with everyone on board. Even with the two casualties we’d already suffered. None of the crew were going to volunteer to stay behind, even for a few hours, and by that time, I’d obviously outlived my usefulness.”
Cracking a smile, Wu said, “Let me get this straight. You conned them into taking a big box of rocks up into orbit. Worthless rocks.”
“Eighth Echelon. You can buy them on any street corner on half a dozen worlds.”
“And as soon as the shuttle took off, you hid,” Garcia said.
“For a day and a night, but it was a waste of time. They never came back. I didn’t expect them too. I rather figured, rather hoped, that once they launched, they’d be onto their next target. Hell, why bother to land. This way they saved the rest of my pay.” He smiled, and added, “Though I made sure to hold back a few pieces. Enough for a little grub stake.” He looked nervously at the others, and said, “Which I think I’ve earned.”
Frowning, Carter said, “How many credits are we talking about?”
“Ten, fifteen thousand, maybe, at the right auction.”
“You can keep them.” She leaned forward, and asked, “While you were here, did you find anything else? Anything more recent?”
“There’s a storage module maybe three miles north, but I didn’t go that far out.” He shivered, and said, “You wouldn’t catch me going that far from the perimeter. Going the half-mile to the ruins was hard enough. Everything on this planet is out to kill you. Everything.”
“Then the pirates didn’t find it?” Garcia asked.
Cracking a thin smile, Kruger said, “That’s what you came here for? Interesting. No, I didn’t even report it. Didn’t dare to. They’d have probably made me go and take a look. I guess they might have spotted it during the aerial survey, but the undergrowth’s so damned thick, they could easily have missed it.” Looking at Garcia, he said, “What’s in there?”
“Weapons,” he replied. “Left over from the Seven Suns War. We’re here to salvage them.”
“Arms runners?” Kruger asked. “Hell, none of my business, and I wish you the very best of luck in whatever it is you’ve set out to do. I certainly won’t stop you. I just want to get off this rock and into nice, cold space. A beautiful little colony dome looks perfect right about now.”
Glancing at Garcia, Carter replied, “It’s a little more complicated than that. We’re not arms runners. We’re pirate hunters. And we’re looking for Fortuna. Which means that I am very, very interested in the locations of those other sites you described.”
The archaeologist’s face fell, and he replied, “No, come on. This isn’t fair.”
“Life usually isn’t,” Garcia said. “Though think on the bright side. You’re getting off-world, and you’ve got some very well-armed bodyguards.”
“Yeah,” Kruger said. “Pity they’re all insane.”
Chapter 14
Garcia led the way, machete in hand, with a reluctant Kruger and Carter following behind. Periodically, he hacked at a piece of undergrowth, slashing through the air, clearing the way, while the others kept him covered with their laser rifles, warily scanning the terrain for signs of trouble. Insects buzzed through the air all around them. Kruger cringed as a winged creature soared close to his face, his hands swinging through the air to drive it away.
“Relax,” Garcia said. “Doc Schmitt gave you the same injections as the rest of us. None of the local poisons and toxins can affect you.”
“It’s the acid that worries me,” Kruger said. “The biology of this planet is a miracle. They use it as a defense. There’s this plant that has a sac filled with it, protected with some sort of natural plastic material. I’ve never seen anything like it. Two dead in as many minutes, and that’s probably the worst way I can think of to die.” Glancing back the way they had come, he added, “I really think this is a bad idea. Maybe we could go to this depot of yours in the ship. Use the thrusters to burn away the undergrowth.”
“Tricky as hell with these winds,” Carter said. “Just walking
is a lot easier.”
“In this?” Kruger asked, shaking his head. “You’re out of your mind. It’ll take hours.”
“I doubt it,” Garcia replied. “The depot is placed close to a river. We can walk in the water. That’ll be a lot easier.” Tapping his boots with the end of his machete, he added, “Dad thought of everything.”
“He didn’t think of finding a better place to hide his equipment, evidently,” Kruger said. He paused, looking at the ground, and said, “Wait a second.”
“What is it now?” Carter asked, impatiently.
Pulling out a trowel, Kruger quickly attacked the dirt, pulling out a broken piece of pottery covered with intricate carvings, and replied, “About a hundred credits. If it was intact, more like a hundred thousand, but I’ll take what I can get.” Sliding it into his pocket, he added, “That was the deal, remember. I get the profits from whatever we find on the surface, and I help you get to the depot.”
“So far,” Garcia replied, “all you’ve done is tell us that we’re about to die.”
“And that’s the best help you’re going to get on this pathetic excuse for a planet.”
“Quiet,” Carter said. “Listen.” She could just hear the sound of rushing water in the distance, and gestured for them to move forward, Garcia forcing a path through the undergrowth. Overhead, a rumble of thunder echoed, and Kruger looked up, grimaced, and pulled a battered hat out of his pocket, sliding the crumpled headgear into place.
“Rains all the damned time,” he said. “Enough to make you go crazy.”
“So I noticed,” Carter muttered.
“What?” Kruger asked.
“There it is, up ahead,” she said, stepping forward as the three of them emerged at a roaring river, the ochre water a splash of color in the strange, black and white jungle. Garcia peered upstream, then looked down at his datapad, nodding to himself.
“Two and a half miles, right up stream. We should be there in less than an hour.”
“Nasty stuff in the river,” Kruger said, “but nothing that can get through these tough boots. It’s fast flowing, and the water’s good to drink once it’s been treated. It’s about the one thing I could rely on.” Gesturing downstream, he added, “The old settlement is about a quarter-mile that way, around a bend.”
“We’ll take a look at it later,” Carter replied. “As soon as we’ve got what we came for.”
“Don’t feel you have to,” Kruger said. “Not just for me, I mean. I can quite happily live without ever going back there again.”
“Even to retrieve your stash?” Garcia asked.
Grimacing, Kruger said, “Maybe one quick stroll, now I think about it.” He paused, then asked, “Why are you out hunting the pirates, anyway?”
“They murdered my family, my crew, and left me for dead,” Carter said. “The Patrol won’t do anything about it, so I will. It’s as simple as that. The others have their own reasons. Cassie just wants to play with her new guns, and Rusty got thrown out of the service for suggesting that his commanding officer get off his butt and do something.”
“And the Doctor?”
“He got stuck on the ship when it took off.”
Kruger chuckled, then replied, “Figures.” He looked at the stream, and said, “That’s going to be freezing. You do realize that.”
“The boots are insulated.” Jumping into the river, Garcia added, “Come on in, the water’s lovely.” He started to trudge through the water, and Carter followed, Kruger joining them after a brief hesitation. The three of them slowly made their way along the river bank, mud sticking to their boots as they struggled through the ooze, working their way towards the distant target.
Another crack of thunder echoed overhead, and torrents of rain began to stream down from the sky, the ochre rain splattering over their clothes. Kruger tugged his hat tighter on his head, and Carter grimaced as water ran down the back of her neck. The heat was oppressive, sticky, the water only making the climate worse, and after only ten minutes, she raised her hand, reaching for the canteen at her belt.
“We can’t do this,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m exhausted. This mud is getting thicker, and I need to get into some sort of cover.”
“Yeah,” Garcia replied. “Me too.”
“Great,” Kruger said. “Back to the ship, then.”
Frowning, Carter looked around, then smiled, gesturing into the forest, and said, “A trail. Not much of a one, but it’s there.” She climbed out of the stream, her boots only reluctantly withdrawing from the mud, and said, “And it even heads in the right direction. Sort of.”
“Two miles,” Garcia said. “I think it follows the stream.” Turning to Kruger, he asked, “I suppose there’s no chance that any of the colonists are still here?”
“Not a chance,” he said. “I counted thirty-eight bodies, from forty colonists.”
“That still leaves two.”
“Which only means that there was nobody left to bury them, and according to the records, the last two to survive were both women. And that was forty years ago, and they were in their thirties. Trust me. This is not a planet for the old. It’s not a planet for anyone.” In the distance, a loud, ethereal howl filled the air, and he added, “See what I mean? They put up a nice chorus, all night long.”
“They come near me, we get roast weird beast for dinner,” Garcia said, patting his laser pistol.
Shaking his head, Kruger followed the others, the trio picking their way across the trail as the rain fell in sheets all around them, dripping from every branch, every leaf, the ground soaking into the same mud as the river, a dreadful grey ooze that slimed over their boots. The heat grew worse under the thick clouds, and sweat poured from their brows as they struggled to progress.
Two miles. Twenty minutes in good, flat conditions. Far less in low gravity. On this planet, it was more than an hour before they finally reached their goal, before the indicator on Garcia’s datapad sounded to alert them that they were close to the depot, close to the last legacy of his father.
“Right there,” Kruger said, pointing into the undergrowth. A faint gleam of metal fought through the undergrowth, and Garcia pushed forward, hacking frantically with his machete, revealing the battered plastisteel crate beneath, surprisingly small to have been the cause of a multi-light-year trip. He glanced across at Carter, who smiled in response.
“Go on,” she said. “This is your party.”
“Just hurry up about it,” Kruger added. “We’ve only got a couple of hours until it gets dark, and I really don’t want to even think about spending the night out here.” He shivered despite the heat, and hunched closer to the crate, saying, “There are weapons in there, right?”
“The best that money could buy, half a century ago.”
Garcia worked the controls, placing his palm carefully on the reader, waiting for the machine to come to life. After a second, he shook his head, then pulled out a narrow tool and began working on the power connector, digging out the accumulated mass of decades in a bid to clear the port. Kruger looked over his shoulder, craning to see, and after a moment, Garcia turned to face him.
“Let me get on with this. I know what I’m doing, and I know that I will do it a lot better without an audience. I’ve got to clear the port if I’m going to fire up the systems.”
“After all these years, you think it’ll work? Why not just cut through?”
“That’ll take longer, and run the risk of damaging the contents. Let me do this my way.”
A loud howl came from the undergrowth, and Kruger took an involuntary step back, raising his rifle, as Carter scanned the horizon. The creatures were getting closer, and the rain still heavier, soaking all three of them to the skin, their clothes dripping water onto the muddy ground. Garcia poked at the box, then pulled out a battery pack, plugged it into the system, and was finally rewarded with a glowing red light. He placed his palm on the reader, wincing as the needle pricked his ha
nd, reading his DNA.
“Everything looks good,” he said. “I just hope I’ve got enough of my father in me to pass the check. Dad said it should work, but…” There was a loud crack, and the top popped open, a smile spreading across his face as he looked at the contents within. “Just as advertised. Two plasma cannons.”
“They look pretty small,” Kruger said, frowning.
“That’s just the guts of the system. We’ll have to fabricate the housing ourselves, but that’s easy enough. We’ve got everything we need in stock, and if I know Wu, she’s already working on it.” Tapping the long cylinder, he said, “That’s all the destructive force we’re going to need to rip the guts out of Fortuna’s hull.”
“I hope so,” Kruger said, peering into the back. “Hand weapons?”
“Mark Nine Plasma Pistols. Nasty. They stopped making them years ago.”
“Why?”
“Too powerful. A laser pistol with a decent power pack will get off a couple of hundred shots before needing a recharge. Those babies are lucky if they can manage three bolts, and the clips have a habit of burning out in use. Not to mention that they are positively brilliant at burning through hull armor. You don’t want to fire one of these off in an enclosed space.” He reached for one, hefting it in his hand, and said, “I’ll get Cassie to check them over before we use them. I can’t wait to see her face when she plays with this toy.”
“Anything else in there?” Carter asked.
“Package of data discs. Probably Rebel propaganda. I’ll take a look at them later.” Reaching into the back, he grimaced, and said, “Someone’s long-dead lunch, as well, I think. Someone decided to play a practical joke on whoever came and got this.” He withdrew his hand, covered in a slimy green paste, and said, “I’d threaten to kill the guy, but I guess time already did that for me.”
“You think we can take it all back ourselves?” Kruger asked. “I’d rather not…”
“Come back again, I get it,” Carter replied, shaking her head. “I guess so. If you take the handguns and Rusty and I…”
Fortunes of War (Stellar Main Book 1) Page 11