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

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The Cold Dead Earth (The Jolo Vargas Space Opera Series Book 3) Page 10

by J. D. Oppenheim


  “But that ain’t the way of it. This pirate was known. This pirate would kill and not think nothing of it. There were stories. Everyone knew.”

  “No pirate killed unless someone was fool enough to fight.”

  “Jolo Vargas would,” screamed the man. Five years of hate and anger all coming out at once. He spit at Jolo’s feet. “It was you waiting out there for us in that damn old Alacyte ship that could take a pounding from our turrets and keep coming. So the captain did what just about any merchant would have done and went straight through jump point one.”

  Jolo’s heart sank. Suddenly he felt tired. All the dirty kids were staring at him like he was a murderer. No better than Hazuki or the Butcher. “We never killed anyone. That stuff about Jolo Vargas killing people weren’t true. Just Fed lies. I can help you escape.”

  “Or she take you,” said the boy from before. “She take you like she took the ole Chopper man.”

  Riley’s breathing had steadied just a little but he still had that panicky, desperate look on his face. “You get me home to my wife and child and I won’t kill you.”

  Jolo took a deep breath. The man was desperate and scared but he had survived. He deserved the truth.

  “You don’t know, do you?”

  “What?”

  “The BG attacked the core. The Fed is broken.”

  “You lie!”

  “No. The BG took the core planets.”

  “Farrin?”

  “All the Fed core planets near Sol for sure. Not sure about Farrin. I’m sorry. I came here for guns.”

  “Ain’t no guns. Hazuki got them all. We got these from a museum exhibit over there in, uh—” He stopped talking and stared at the floor for a moment. Then looked up at Jolo pleading. “My wife and kid are still there. You can’t say they ain’t there. You can’t take that from me!” He started shaking all over again and fell down to his knees.

  Meanwhile the kids had started to move in toward Jolo and Greeley. Jolo jabbed the big man with his boot but he just moaned. But maybe it was best that Greeley was out. This negotiation would take finesse.

  The boy with the big rifle edged closer, the barrel jutting out, his wiry arms tense. The smaller ones had pointed sticks and a few had kitchen knives and forks filed down to sharp points.

  Jolo didn’t know what to do. Riley was still on the floor. What would Katy do? he thought. She’d say a few magic words and they’d all be grinning in no time.

  “You want out of here? I can help you. I ain’t staying,” said Jolo in a calm, firm voice.

  “Ain’t no where to go,” said the tall boy. “Rats come, like you, then they get et by da bitch. That’s all.”

  “Y’all wanna play a game? I’ll be the Fed captain and y’all can be the pirates. That’s fun,” Jolo said with a smile on his face. He smiled real big then remembered Katy said his big smile was kind of scary, so he toned it down but the kids’ cold expressions hadn’t changed a wit.

  “We play kill da ole-man-two,” said a boy holding a big metal spoon.

  Jolo decided his best bet would be to run, straight out, leading as many as he could, then come back for Greeley. His options were running out.

  “Riley! I can help you get off this rock. Call off the dogs!”

  By then even more kids had joined, Jolo figured maybe thirty or so in all. Finally, Riley stood.

  “Stand down!” he yelled. And all the kids took a step back. Then he turned to Jolo. “Nobody gets off this rock. Best you can do is stay alive and not get caught by Hazuki. He’ll feed your ass to the Queen, or give you duty topside if you’re lucky. He’s a fickle bastard, though, and he don’t seem to care a bit about human life. What makes you think you can escape?”

  “Well, I been through worse than this. As long as I’m breathin’ I figure we got a shot.” The man just stared at Jolo with watery eyes. The tall boy’s rifle was pointing down at the dirt but the rest of the kids weren’t convinced. Suddenly, the sound of laughter filled the room.

  “Yeah, he got a high opinion of himself.” It was Greeley, his voice even rougher than usual.

  Jolo ran to him. Greeley’s eyes were red and he tried to sit up but sank back down again with both hands on his head.

  “He’ll have a headache for a few more days,” said Riley.

  “You remember what happened?” said Jolo. “When that big—”

  And Greeley cut him off, his big hand reaching out to swat down Jolo’s next word. “Don’t speak on it,” he said. “Don’t speak on it.” He took a few breaths, opened his eyes and looked around. “Gotta lot of little uns. I seen ‘em in my dreams. Where’s the crew?”

  “We’re gonna get them soon. Then get out of here,” said Jolo. Then he turned to Riley. “Can you lead us back to our ship? I need to get topside without running into Hazuki or his men. Once I get to the ship and get the crew together we’ll come up with a plan.”

  Riley, still reeling from the news about the Fed core, just stared off at the kids.

  “Well?” said Jolo.

  “Your ship could be anywhere. Don’t know where you landed.” The tall boy was standing behind Riley shaking his head.

  “Might as well spill it now,” the skinny boy said.

  “Spill what?” said Jolo.

  “Dey ain’t comin’ back,” said the boy. “Your crew gone-gone.”

  Jolo looked at Riley. “What’s he talkin’ about?” But Riley just rubbed his temples and started another round of shaking.

  Jolo reached for the boy’s hand, but the boy pulled back and pointed the rifle at Jolo again. In one swift movement Jolo grabbed the rifle. The clip was gone but there was one bullet in the chamber.

  Jolo handed the rifle to Greeley, then turned back to the boy. “Now tell me.”

  “When the big ships crash, the man in the white coat always come and take the crew. He kill one or two right dere and the Queen come and eat ‘em. The rest he put in the cage. He don’t kill females. They go to the dark place.”

  “The dark place?”

  “The breeding program at the top of the hotel,” Riley said. “Any women they find they impregnate and keep there. I rescued all these kids from there. They let the boys run around like animals. Naked, with barely enough to eat. Fighting like dogs over a tiny piece of the black stuff. They keep the girls safe and secure, well fed. Can’t even rescue the boys anymore though, ‘cause Hazuki’s put more guards at the entrances after he got sick of losing meat.”

  “Meat?”

  “Yeah. Meat. That’s what we are. Welcome to Hell.”

  “Cap’n,” said Greeley, still sitting on the dirt floor. “I ain’t much of a strategizin’ type. But I believe comin’ here was a shite idea. I’m startin’ to git a powerful distaste for Earth.”

  Riley looked Jolo in the eye. The man had regained some composure. “You get me and as many of the kids off this rock as you can and we’ll help.”

  Jolo had only one thing on his mind: his crew. And Katy. “Take me to my ship.”

  “It may not be there, and you might not like what you find when you do get there.”

  Katy

  An old woman with wiry gray hair streaking out in all directions grabbed Katy’s hand. She couldn’t see where they were taking Barth and the rest.

  “Say your goodbyes,” said the old lady.

  There was a finality in her voice that Katy couldn’t bear. She locked eyes with Koba, his face white and defeated. She gave him a hard look and pounded her fist on her chest. Any sign of remorse or fear on her face and he might have cried. He clung to Barth like a dog. Hurley had barely made it but was alive. He limped along behind the rest with one of Hazuki’s men prodding him with the end of a rifle.

  Katy yanked on the old woman’s hand trying to get free but she was stronger than she looked. Her wrinkled, mottled hand was like a vice around Katy’s wrist.

  “We fight!” Katy yelled as the last of the Argossy’s crew faded into the blackness.

  “Still full of piss and
vinegar,” said the old crone. “I was too, a long time ago. Housted to Milford and back. Housted to Milford. Two days’ run with a load of titanium and other shite. That’s what we did. Long time ago. You’ll learn the new way or die.”

  The old lady took Katy through a dark tunnel, water dripping down from above and the light so low that she couldn’t see anything. The dirt path soon changed to some kind of rock or tile pattern and there were buildings on either side. A hundred years before this might have been a nice place but had been filled with dirt, then dug out again. The old lady tugged at Katy’s hand, pulling her into a hole in one of the buildings, then down a torch lit hallway and then they started up a flight of stairs.

  “472 steps we got so pace yerself,” she said. “You lucky. I came here jus’ like you, full of fire. You lucky Mr. Hazuki needs you.”

  Half way up Katy started to get tired. She put her hand to her belly. Still to early to show, but she knew it was there. She was there. She didn’t know how she knew, but it was a girl. At step 245—the old lady had kept a count—Katy couldn’t go on any further and she stopped and threw up.

  But nothing came out. Suddenly she felt leathery hands on her face, on her forehead. At first she wanted to swipe them away,but then she realized, the old woman was checking her temperature like they did hundreds of years before. No thermal readings from a handheld, just her palm to her forehead. It wasn’t possible to get an accurate reading.

  Then the old woman handed Katy a flask of water from some kind of animal skin and she drank a little sip and tried to slow her breathing. Once she settled down and had a little more water the woman handed her a black chunk of something and told her to eat it. She took a bite and nearly spit it out but the woman put her hand over her mouth to keep it in.

  It was the same stuff from the hole that Koba made. So that was what kept humans alive, Katy thought. That was one small piece of the puzzle. George would find that interesting.

  George.

  She started to cry. It all came out, finally. It was ok, here half-way up some stairway in a small landing between flights with no one around except some withered crone. The old woman waited for a moment then tugged on Katy’s arm again.

  Katy wiped her eyes on her sleeve and for a moment they were both silent. The orange light from the torch above them danced on the dirty walls.

  “Where’s the head around here?” said Katy. “I gotta go.”

  The old woman tilted her head, stared down a Katy with suddenly stern eyes.

  “Show us yer tits,” the woman said, cold and serious.

  Katy stood up and faced the woman. “Why don’t I just throw your skinny ass down the stairs?”

  “You could try. Show us your tits and I’ll show you the toilet.”

  “No.”

  The old woman moved faster than Katy expected. She ducked down and kicked at Katy’s legs and suddenly Katy was on the dirt on her back with the crazy woman on top. The old woman’s hand was right on her belly. Right there where her little girl was just starting to form.

  “You want I should push real hard right here? See what shakes loose?”

  “No!” screamed Katy.

  The woman lifted Katy’s shirt and Katy felt the leathery hand on her flesh. The woman took a look, moving so the torchlight illuminated the subject. She pulled down Katy’s shirt and grunted. It wasn’t what Katy thought. The woman looked at her body like she was a patient at a hospital, or a piece of meat.

  “There’s the toilet,” the old woman said, pointing to the corner under the torch. “Usually we recycle all waste, but I’ll make an exception in your particular case.”

  “Ain’t nothing particular about me,” Katy yelled, so angry she didn’t mind squatting next to the woman to do her business.

  “Oh, I think you got something going.”

  “Ain’t got nothing going!” And she started to get angry again.

  “Are you such a fool child you don’t know?”

  And then Katy realized. She knew.

  “How did you know?”

  “That’s what I do, Child. Breedun’s my use. Hazuki says ev’rybody gotta have a use. Even if it’s jus’ feedin’ the Bitch.”

  “But you’ve got no monitors. No data.”

  “I got my eyes, Girl. And I got data: nausea, fatigue, frequent urination, tender breasts with dark areolas…” And for a moment the old woman sounded almost clinical.

  “You were a doctor before!”

  “No!”

  “Yes, you were!”

  “Be quiet.”

  “You don’t know if I’m pregnant. Anxiety and stress can cause nausea!”

  “You got nuttin’ to be stressed about. You gone live! You got a womb and some tits. Rejoice.” And the skinny, gray-haired woman with rags for clothes held up her hands and did a little dance.

  “Then why the hell you still here?”

  “Cause Mr. Hazuki need me!” She jabbed a finger at her chest. “He need me to help with the breeeedun’! He keep me around cause I find you and I know. None of them other idiots gone know what I know. They gone try to plant their seed in you but I know better. He listen to me!”

  “No seed goin’ in me!” Katy screamed.

  “Ha ha ha,” cackled the old woman, then broke into a cough. “Not until after that one come out.” She grabbed Katy by the arm. “See. You got a use, too. Don’t frack it up with your mouth or you’ll be in a cage down below waiting on the Queen Bitch like those dumb males ain’t worth nothing. Get a little seed from them an’ then they jus’ meat.”

  And with that they started back up the stairs.

  George

  Temperature alert at core level, subroutine alpha38f73, cron exec. @ 0023:98:00…

  Initiating cold boot, diag. Lev2…

  Aux pump C5 reroute engaged, fluid loss at approximately 240.33cc, skin graft 87.35% complete at entry and exit points.

  George sat up on the ice and stared straight ahead into the darkness. His core computer had taken control but he was granted some access to his central processor. Motor function was limited. He couldn’t move except to sit still, that and the tiny adjustments which kept him from falling over.

  If I were human I would hate this, he thought. I hate this, he wanted to say out loud, but couldn’t. But this had to be done. He’d taken a calculated risk. A shot to the head and he’d have been done for, but the man in the white coat had aimed at Barth’s chest, so the odds favored a successful outcome. His mandate was to protect Jolo Vargas, but Mr. Marco had given him nearly full autonomy to make his own decisions, even sacrificing himself to save another.

  Internal battery at 84%, reheating core.

  George knew he could lay there on the ice for some time with little damage to his system. The only issue would be if his internal battery didn’t have enough charge to unfreeze his core components. He didn’t have permission yet to access the his internal clock but it was dark so he figured he’d been there at least 5 hours. The Argossy was not in his field of view so he figured he was facing out onto the ice. The dead man should be there, but there was nothing. Nothing except a dark spot. Possibly a hole.

  Core temperature at acceptable levels, internal battery at 72%. C5 pump rerouted. Manual only.

  George stood. “Speech function test, normal levels,” he said without thinking. It was the core again. He knew at this point he should feel somehow violated, like something had taken over. But hearing his own voice was reassuring. After that the core computer finally relinquished control.

  George felt the hole in his jacket, but his skin was patched. A scar, he thought. He wanted to show Jolo and the rest. He walked back to the Argossy in the dark. A light was still on in the lab where he’d left, 8 hours 42 minutes and 12 seconds before. He plugged himself into a power jack at his seat in the lab and charged himself.

  The energy rifles in the weapons locker were gone, as were the battle suits, so he went down to the hold. Jolo kept weapons stashed all over the ship, just in case. Th
e small energy blaster in the med lab on the top shelf was gone. So was the one in engineering under the engine. But the one hidden in the hold was still there. He pushed on a secret panel on the side of the wall behind a row of heat risers and there it was. Hazuki’s men must have had a scanner, but the hidey hole here was secure. He put the gun in his jacket and stood perfectly still.

  A sound. Or was it? He wasn’t sure. He tapped his foot lightly and listened.

  Auditory function confirmed @ 7.3 decibels. He clapped his hands. Again, okay. And so he stood in the hold not breathing, not moving. And sure enough he heard it again. It was a low vibration coming through the ground underneath him.

  Just then a temperature alert went off in his head. 4 degrees celcius and climbing. More rumbling below. 5 degrees. And then the whole ship moved. The starboard side dropped a few inches. George ran up the stairs to access the rear hatch. He had to wind it down manually. The whole time he continued to get readings. The ship was sinking and the temperature was increasing.

  At 8 degrees the ship made a sudden drop, one meter or so straight down. The rear hatch got caught in the ice, locking it at about 30% open. Chunks of ice fell into the hold as the whole ship groaned, the hull scraping against the ice as the Argossy slowly started sinking down.

  George ran to the console in the hold but it was no use. The engines would not spin up. After a few moments the ship stopped moving down and came to a rest, only to sink again, yet this time there was a grinding noise coming from below. The ship was being lowered down mechanically.

  There was no escape back up through the ice so George grabbed a large spanner, half a meter long, from Barth’s tool bench and hid himself in the large stash box under the floor that Jolo used when they were moving hot items that needed to be scan proof.

  An hour later the movement stopped and George heard voices.

  “Git two cables over the bow o’ this hunk of shite or she’ll fall right off the mover!”

  “What fer? Mr. Hazuki don’t need nuttin’ from this bucket.”

  “You ain’t paid to think, Bender. So shut yer hole awready.”

 

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