The Cold Dead Earth (The Jolo Vargas Space Opera Series Book 3)

by J. D. Oppenheim

  “Where are you going?”

  “Make your delivery, wherever Hazuki wants him,” he said, jerking his thumb towards Greeley, who’d just started to stir and moan. “I see his pain tolerance is low.” He shook his head and took a step for the door. “Off-worlders.”

  Jolo stepped in front of the door. “What’s with the cat?” If he went and talked to Hazuki there’d be trouble. And he couldn’t bring himself to shoot the old man, even though he nearly cleavered Greeley.

  He man chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe me, off-worlder, but the cat has one amazing quality that not many know of.” He paused for effect. “She hates Little Richard.”

  “She?

  “Yes. She. The thing that bores through the ice.” He petted the cat on the head and the it started purring again. “I haven’t quite figured out why, but he’s kept me alive when my predecessors were not so fortunate. Hazuki has an agreement, you know, but protections do not extend to the lower ranks. Now move. I mustn’t be late for dinner.”

  “Stay,” said Jolo. “At least until he wakes up. I can’t, uh, make the delivery if he can’t walk.”

  “Why do you care?”

  “We were on the same ship.”

  “Oh. And now I begin to doubt your story. Though there is truth in what you just told me.” Jolo held his ground in front of the door and the old man tried to push him out of the way to no avail.

  “Alright then, what if I refuse to stay?” said the man.

  “Then I’ll kill you with that damn cleaver and eat that squealin’ rat you holdin’” said a groggy, drunk voice. Greeley tried to sit up on the gurney, then fell back again.

  “Exactly what are your intentions?” His eyes got big and Jolo knew the game was over. “Blue razor, code 439er!” the old man yelled. And suddenly, through a hole in the roof, a bot flew in, heading straight for Greeley, who was still out on the gurney. Jolo fired twice and the bot landed on the floor, a single, round cutting blade spinning furiously, tearing through the leg of a wooden table near the wall. The whole thing crashed down in a pile of dust, the dead bot with the spinning cutter underneath it all.

  “Got any more stupid tricks?” said Jolo, now pointing the Colt at the man.

  “No. That was my best one.”

  “What’s all the racket?” said Greeley. “Cap’n. My leg’s on fire.”

  “Give him something for the pain,” said Jolo. “I’ll take the cat.”

  “No one may hold Little Richard except me!” squealed the man.

  Jolo grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck and held him in the crook of his arm. The cat didn’t seem to mind at all.

  The man took a vial from a drawer and grabbed a syringe off the dusty counter.

  “If you hurt that man I’ll tear you apart,” said Jolo.

  “Yes, I can’t imagine a more terrible fate,” said the man. He tapped the side of the syringe with his finger and a little of the liquid inside shot out the top.

  He started to stick it into Greeley and Jolo blurted out, “If you hurt that man I’ll kill the cat!”

  And the man stopped, the needle a few inches over Greeley’s good leg. “You would do no such thing.”

  “I’ll roast him and big man over there will eat him.” It was the scariest thing Jolo could think of at the moment.

  The man paused. Then he tossed the syringe into a sink, grabbed something from another shelf, broke it in half, slapped Greeley on the face and held the small white thing to his nose. Greeley jumped up, then screamed out in pain.

  “My leg’s on fire!”

  “Now give me the cat!” demanded the old man. “You cannot go against Hazuki. You’ll all be prepped and fed and that will be that. And if he finds that I’ve helped you, even under coercion, he’ll kill Little Richard!” The old man was nearly in tears.

  “No one will hurt Little Richard,” said Jolo. “I’ll protect him. I am Jolo Vargas.”

  The man just stared at him, blankly.

  “Jolo Vargas,” said Jolo, “You know, the pirate. Former Federation hero and all that.”

  Dead silence from the old man who’s face had scrunched up like he’d smelled something worse than the musty, rotten smell of the room.

  “He don’t know you, Cap,” said Greeley.

  “You’ll protect Little Richard like you protected him?” said the man, pointing at Greeley. “Like you allowed your ship to be sucked into this bit of hell.”

  Thirty minutes and several of the black food squares later and Greeley was good enough to move with the help of an old hover bot. He put his arm around the bot and hopped on his good leg and was able to walk in a fashion. The old man, named Wexler, had waited patiently, with the understanding that Jolo, who still had the cat, would not harm it. The old man seemed most inclined to obey with the threat of harm to Little Richard, and was far more afraid of Hazuki than either the not-so-famous pirate Jolo Vargas, or Greeley the wounded mercenary.

  Jolo and Greeley stepped back out into the dark underground, the air almost sweet compared to the prep room.

  “Where are you going?” said Wexler.

  “You’re going to lead us out of here,” said Jolo.

  “Where?”

  “To our ship.”

  “The ship drop point is back that way, where you came from. You know the way. You don’t need me. I will not tell him of your, uh, behavior, and you will remain in his good graces.” The man got up to go but Greeley put out an arm to stop him.

  “I think you are lying,” said Greeley. “Besides, we shot two of his boys deader’n shite, and Jolo here shot the man himself.”

  Wexler’s eyes got big. “They will kill us all for sure. You are dead fools, and now I shall die with you. Should’ve called in the bot the moment I saw you.”

  “The way to my ship?”

  Wexler pointed a skinny, pale finger back down the path the way they’d come earlier.

  “Liar!” growled Greeley. “Gimme the cat!” Jolo shrugged and started to hand the cat to the big man.

  “No!” said Wexler. “I will show you to the drop point and if your ship is still there you will find it. Though we are late for dinner, and that does not increase our chances. We’ll have to take the main road.”

  “I thought that way got you killed,” said Jolo.

  “That is the fastest way to your ship,” said Wexler.

  Jolo massaged his temples with his left hand, his right had found its way to the smooth handle of the Colt. Then he nodded to Greeley.

  “Alright then,” said Greeley, jabbing a thick finger into Wexler’s chest. “You in front. An nuttin’ funny, or I’m eatin’ that big rat.”

  Here She Comes

  And so the unlikely trio made their way along the big path much like Jolo had done earlier, but this was different. The little orange blocks, which Wexler called bricks, extended all the way down the path. On either side were the remains of buildings, storefronts, and other structures Jolo couldn’t make out. All of it covered in black earth. They came upon an intersection that smelled pretty good to Jolo’s nose.

  “That way smells good,” said Jolo.

  “That’s not the way back to your dead ship.”

  “Ship ain’t dead, just ain’t working,” growled Greeley, annoyed that he hadn’t yet found a way to hold onto Betsy and the bot at the same time. “I don’t trust the butcher,” he said, loud enough for Wexler to hear.

  “I am a doctor!”

  “Hey, Cap’n, he’s a doctor butcher,” said Greeley. “What’s that?”

  “Ain’t sure,” said Jolo. “But he’s all we’ve got.”

  Jolo walked along carrying the cat nestled in the crook of his left arm, the Colt in the right, pointed straight out into the darkness. He made sure to keep Wexler close. Greeley hobbled along next to him, getting angrier as they went, the pain killers fading with every step.

  Even in the dim light, Jolo could just make our their surroundings. This was a main street from long ago, long since covered by
earth, then dug out again by God knows what.

  They walked along for a good half hour wordlessly. And then Jolo thought he saw a light ahead. Greeley saw it, too. “Three o’clock, Cap’n.”

  It blinked again. “Can you hold Betsy and the cat?” Jolo said.

  “Sure.” Greeley eased down into a sitting position, wincing and grumbling. Once he’d made it to the ground, his wounded leg outstretched and his face sweaty and hot, he got ahold of Betsy and pointed it right at Wexler. A smile broke out on his face. Then Jolo handed him the cat.

  “Never seen a mercenary with a cat before,” said Jolo. “Kill him if he runs.” And then Jolo sprinted toward an intersection and went down a side road for thirty or forty meters. He marked the spot where he’d last seen the light, but when he got there it was gone.

  It was another storefront, but in the darkness he couldn’t make anything out. He felt around in the dirt and his hand brushed against something cold, a metal door handle. The door slid open and he stepped inside, inching forward, reaching out with his hands in the pitch black. He took small steps, the Colt out and ready, but his nose told him there was nothing to fear. This place smelled old and musty, but not like the butcher shop. His hand came on a smooth surface, wood. Much like the handle of the Colt. Then he felt something else. It was a row of books. And another on top of that. He was standing in a corridor with stacks of books on either side. There were several rows and he wanted to stay and investigate more but had to make sure Greeley was okay.

  “Anyone here?” he said. “I’m not going to harm you. I’m Jolo Vargas, from Federation space.”

  No reply.

  Jolo’s hand rested on the edge of a book. It was real. He remembered the book he’d given to Jaylen long ago, but that was just a dream, implanted by Merthon. He pulled the book down and some dust came with it. He shook the book off, opened it and felt the pages, so light and delicate. He wished there was light to see the words. He closed it carefully and slid it into his jacket. “I’m taking a book. Hope you don’t mind.” Then he trotted back to Greeley and Wexler.

  “We’re going to be late for dinner,” said Wexler.

  “He’s been pacing back and forth ever since you left. Kinda like he’s gotta take a pee or something,” said Greeley.

  “What was the light?” said Jolo.

  “Walk and I will tell you,” said Wexler. So they started off, Jolo once again with the cat, and the butcher hustling along. “Riff raff is all. Hiding from us. They are the little rats, escaped from the breeding program. They aren’t really going anywhere so the Queen allows them to hide and play their little games.”

  “You don’t talk to them?” said Jolo.

  “Hazuki has tried to bring them into the fold, but they object. They are under Hazuki’s protection, but they are a thorn in his side. They do not obey. They do not do the things necessary to survive. Hard things.”

  “What things?”

  “In due time, Captain. Hazuki will inform you when the time is right. It is not my place to reveal his doings to the likes of a few rogue off-worlders who by the looks of it haven’t been here but for a few days. You’ve gone against him so your days will be short.”

  “I’m gone kill ‘im now, Cap’n,” said Greeley.

  But Jolo held out his hand. He knew Wexler was evil and couldn’t be trusted but the old man knew all about this place and would tell them everything, if they lived long enough for that to happen. For now the old man was no threat to Jolo or even Greeley, hobbled as he was.

  The butcher continued along at a fast clip, Greeley barely able to keep up, until they made it to another intersection. He stopped well before and Jolo went on ahead. The air coming through the other passage was cold and clean, which was good, but there was something else. Something about this place he didn’t like. Greeley hobbled over to him. “I don’t like this. And I don’t like the butcher. I say we prep him, Betsy style, right now.”

  “That ain’t our way. You know it.”

  Wexler stared into the darkness towards the other side of the intersection. This was the main crossing, there were more structures on the other side, mere hints of gray in the distance, and Jolo squinted to see them. But suddenly a light from a torch emerged from a high place above, inside one of the buildings across the brick street. And then another to their left, even higher. Jolo instinctively edged away from Greeley, two smaller targets was better than a single large one. But then Wexler started edging away as well and Jolo knew something was up. He motioned for Greeley to push further back. He thought to turn and run but then a voice called out from the darkness.

  “You are late for dinner though I see you’ve brought the package! But why are they not prepped?”

  Jolo remembered the voice: Hazuki. He started to reply but Wexler beat him to it.

  “They lied to me!” There was a desperation in his voice. Panic and fear. Nothing like the insolence and arrogance he’d shown Jolo and Greeley. Wexler edged away from Jolo, bent over, his palms up in supplication. “They told me they were going to eat Little Richard. What was I to do?”

  “I grow weary of your relentless incompetence. And now you stand on the wrong side of dinner.”

  “Yes, but I could come across. I could resume my work.”

  “Your work,” laughed Hazuki, “requires no skill. I kept you as a man keeps a pet and now I am done with you. Your indulgences are your undoing. Now she comes and she does not like to work for her meal. Do you think this will brighten her mood? She has much to do and you are a thorn in her side. They are coming in a fortnight, or have you forgotten? They will shut us down and kill all of us. They’ve done it before.”

  “Step in to the light, Hazuki!” yelled Jolo.

  “Be quiet, dead man! And do your part for the cause.”

  Jolo had the Colt out and was crouched as low as he could. There was no cover and he and Greeley had been inching backwards ever since Wexler started pleading his case.

  The torch on the right moved just a hair and Jolo instinctively fired right at it. The torch fell down onto the bricks and illuminated the corner of a large building. There was a man standing on the ground nearby. Jolo fired again at the man and by then all hell had broken loose. Greeley was firing at the torch on the left but Jolo knew there were more than two guns against them and one was an automatic.

  Jolo and Greeley hobbled backwards firing blindly across the street. Soon, both torches went out so they couldn’t find a target. Twice, Jolo nearly got hit by a bullet. One whizzed past his head and another hit the ground at his feet, kicking up dirt and bits of brick. A large caliber round hit Greeley and Jolo yelled, but then realized it was the bot who’d taken the shot. It fell to the ground in a shower of sparks and Greeley hopped back on one foot.

  “Do not let them get away. Hobble them but try not to kill them!” yelled Hazuki.

  Jolo wanted to turn and run towards Hazuki and kill the man with his bare hands, but that would be foolish. That would be like old Jolo, he thought. He wondered what George would say their odds of escape were. He ran to Greeley’s voice in the darkness. His body was full of adrenaline and he came up to Greeley fast, grabbed the big man and started off to the safety of the street they’d just come from. He’d find a building to hide in and they could come for him and then he’d have the advantage.

  But he never got the chance.

  A big roar echoed through the chikagai and the ground shook and knocked Jolo off his feet. Greeley fell with him and screamed in pain when they hit the ground. Light came into the intersection from somewhere and suddenly Jolo could see men on the other side, guns in hand. He yelled to Greeley to stay low but his voice was lost in a low roaring wail that hit them like a physical blow.

  Jolo rolled, then steadied himself and knelt and fired at the closest man across the path. The man fell onto the bricks into the light. Jolo fired again and again but one by one the men on the other side had disappeared. And there was nothing left but the horrible noise growing louder and loud
er. It weighed Jolo down, brought him to his knees and his mind filled with dark thoughts: they were all going to die. Katy is gone. Jolo crawled toward Greeley, who was laying on the ground with his hands over his ears. Jolo pulled him as hard as he could back down the path. Greeley was crying. The cat sat on Greeley’s back licking his paws.

  Jolo pulled the big man back, back, deep into the darkness. He made it to the next intersection but it wasn’t deep enough. It would never be deep enough. The thing approaching spoke to Jolo: You are all mine. Why do you run? Feed the children.

  The thing reached deep into the very bottom of his heart. Or were these merely his own twisted thoughts? He couldn’t tell. A large part of Jolo had shut down and lost all hope, but another, smaller part kept going. It was the logic chip, Merthon’s implant, in his brain that still held on--that would not quit, that was wholly unaffected by the sickness that had infected his heart. Why must they all die? Wasn’t there something they had to do?

  Pull. Pull him into the store on the other side!

  I will never see Katy again, Jolo thought. The thing screamed inside his head: You will never see her again. Submit to me and do your part. Sacrifice for the greater good. For the superior race will prevail. Your death will not be in vain.

  The earth shook again and over the deafening roar Jolo could just make out the sound of glass breaking and wood splintering. Greeley fell and Jolo tripped over him and they both ended up on the ground.

  The thing bearing down on them was larger than the Argossy and not of this world.

  Light came into the tunnel and suddenly Jolo could see the building on the corner, it rose high and extended up into the earth, hundreds of windows, the walls made of brick like the cobbled street beneath it. Then the head of the luminous creature came into view, large and rounded like the nose of a freighter. It filled the tunnel completely so that nothing could pass on either side. One huge, yellow eye on the side of its head, wet and oozing, rolled around in its socket, the other a thick mass of gray scar tissue. The roar had subsided for a moment but then the gaping, circular maw of the creature opened to reveal rows of teeth angled inward and it bellowed again and again. The windows shattered on the far side of the street and suddenly Jolo was cut off from the other side of the street. From Hazuki.