Future in the Stars

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Future in the Stars Page 31

by D Patrick Wagner

“That’s what Mistress Analyn and Vidhee are here for.”

  “And you.”

  “And me. Now, do your captain stuff. Leave the rest to us girls.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  “Commander, Captain Scott just linked in.”

  “Thank you Igaklay. Scotty, how’s it hanging?”

  “Strange, real strange, Hawk.”

  “How so?”

  I don’t know what you did, but you sure put a bee in War’s bonnet. The Mortek have packed up. In another day or so, Yeni Persia is going to be empty.”

  “What? They’re pulling out? All of them?”

  “All of them and everything. Lock, stock, and barrel. And, they’re stripping Sasania of everything not tied down.”

  “Where are they heading?”

  “Looks like, back to their home world.”

  “Damn. Now, what are they planning?”

  “I think that they’re running, Hawk. What did you do?”

  “Our lab boys have been working on neutralizing their pheromone command structure. We just gave them a demonstration of our progress.”

  “Well, I think your demo scared the bejesus out of them. Those Mortek are hightailing it towards the tall grass.”

  “What’s going on at their home world?”

  “We took a sneak and peek yesterday. Nothing so far. My guess is that no messages have reached them yet.”

  “We need to track them, see what they’re up to.”

  “I may be able to help you with that, Captain.”

  “Really, Igaklay?”

  “Yes, well, um, when I fired all those pheromone rockets at the Mortek frigate just above Ravage Maker, I may have accidently fired a sixth rocket which missed and landed a quant-com on War’s flagship.”

  “Accidently?”

  “Well, accidents happen, Captain.”

  “Not with you they don’t, Igaklay.”

  “It was my idea, Captain.”

  “Yours, Buster?”

  “Yes, sir. I thought that it would be a good idea to listen in and see how they responded to your demonstration.”

  “Initiative is always good, I suppose. I would have liked to be apprised before you did it. It was a good idea, though. Well done. Nice teamwork. Now, let’s get squared away. We have a jump in four hours.”

  Four hours later, Griffin executed its first jump towards her rendezvous with Sol.

  To be Continued

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  Read farther for a snippet of Marston Chronicles,

  Book 8 Murder in the Stars

  Hightower Dome, Ground - District Nine

  Grounders lived in constant twilight. A hundred-foot-high metal sky with intermittent, sometimes working lighting cast the ground of the Hightower Dome in shadows and dim, reflected light. Within this artificial dusk, buildings of grey plasticine walls lined the walkways and small-vehicle roads.

  Light shining through clear panes of acrylic resin dotted the homes and businesses, driving away some of the darkness. Massive, three-dimensional holograms selling everything from sex to pet food drove away more of the perpetual gloom.

  The shop owners lured in their customers with gaudy displays of motion and light while street merchants hawked their wares, their services, their chemical escapes. The street people hung on corners or sat in doorways, trying to get through another day. Prostitutes worked the streets. Illicit dealers quietly pushed their illegal goods. Three-card Monty conmen tried to fleece the unwary.

  For the twenty-four hours, thirty-seven minutes and twenty-two seconds of each Martian day, nothing changed. No nights broke the perpetual, gloomy days of the groundlings. Living and dying continuously cycled. Dreams of a better life withered under the weight of living the life of a grounder.

  After leaving the gym, Gavin paused on the hard-packed dirt of Mars, living the only life he ever knew. Grounder life. Looking back, he saw the District Nine Gym, the place he called ‘home’ since his mother had been murdered.

  Gavin Pulled up his hood, stuck his hands in his pockets and shrank into something unimportant, someone not worth hassling. The young street punk knew how to avoid the light, knew how to disappear into the shadows, knew how to avoid trouble.

  Turning his back to his home and surrogate father, Gavin took the first stride of his trek across his home turf and over to District Five.

  Unknown to him, a drone smaller than the palm of his hand and black as pitch picked him up as soon as he exited the gym. The almost invisible aerial watcher hovered above and behind him, sensing and viewing everything about him as he headed to an evening of hanging with his mates and watching the best match of the quarter.

  Gavin hugged the buildings, peeking into openings and doorways before he passed. Whenever he found an unoccupied, deep shadow, he would stop and plan. The street kid would map his next steps, avoiding the light, the crowds, and open areas. After planning his next course of travel, he would quick-step his way over the hard-packed Mars soil and reach his next point of safety.

  Less than a mile into his trek, he heard noises mixed with fearful and threatening voices. With a quick duck-look-duck around the corner, Gavin saw four thugs threatening a twenty-something man and his companion. The woman held her hand to her throat, clutching her coat, trembling in fear.

  Pointing his knife at his victim’s nose, the lead thug declared, “You need to pay the toll if you’re gonna cross our turf, Meat.”

  To emphasize his statement, he twisted the knife as though coring and apple. Then he swung the tip to point at the terrified woman.

  “Maybe your girlfriend will pay the toll to me and my boys. What do you think, Meat?”

  Gavin didn’t stop to think. He just stepped out of the shadows and strode towards the scene.

  “This ain’t your turf, Meat,” Gavin emphasized the last word.

  “What have we got here? Hey, skinny, you talking to me? Maybe I’ll peal you like a plum then get my toll. What do you say, boys? Time to two-step this mother?”

  The other three thugs shifted their target.

  Gavin kept walking toward the lead thug. The larger, older man crouched in a fighting position, waving his knife back and forth while shuffling towards the approaching Gavin.

  Pulling his three-sided stiletto from his sleeve, Gavin held his knife softly, like a conductor’s baton, with a loose wrist and relaxed arm. Focusing on his immediate threat as a cat would focus on a bird, Gavin mentally listened and waited.

  Gavin felt the thug decide to lunge.

  Just before the thug lunged, Gavin floated to his left. As the thug’s knife stabbed air, Gavin raised his reidite, triangular-shaped blade, slicing through the tendons on the back of the tough’s hand. The mugger’s knife clattered on the hard-packed Mars soil.

  Using his free hand, Gavin pushed the thug’s crippled arm out of the way, stepped in and stabbed the thug in the liver. With a pain-ridden moan, the lead thug collapsed.

  Pulling out his blade, Gavin turned on the other three.

  Gavin squinted, focusing on his next victims. Not knowing that he did it, Gavin mentally shouted. All three stepped back.

  “Run or die!” Gavin shouted his demand.

  In terror, the three fled down the alley.

  Gavin turned to the downed thug.

  “You’ll live. Stay off my turf. Next time I ain’t gonna be so kind.”

  Holding his custom-made stiletto at the thug’s nose, Gavin watched the bleeding thug rise and, while clamping his side, limp after his fleeing gang. Once the thug left the danger zone, Gavin wiped his blade on his pantleg and slipped it back into its sheath.

  “You dumb plonkers. Get your stupid asses off the street and don’t never come this way again. I ain’t gonna be here next time to save your scrawny butts. Got it?”

  “Thank you, than
k you. Let me pay you.”

  The man pulled all his credits from his wallet and held them out. Gavin flashed a hand out, grabbed the chits and stuck them in his pocket before the would-be victim had time to flinch.

  “Ain’t gonna turn down no free credits. Get lost!”

  After the man and woman practically sprinted in the opposite direction as the thugs, Gavin readjusted his hoody, put his hands in his pockets and ghosted back into the shadows.

  Throughout the entire action, the drone hovered, sensed and viewed everything. Recording it all, the stealth piece of electronics passed all its data packets directly back to the servers in Sir Reginald Hightower’s offices in the Hightower Security Dome.

  As Gavin slipped away, the drone followed.

  For information on future releases and general news, please join the Marston Chronicles mailing list at D. Patrick Wagner’s Website

  For any comments and recommendations, please Email me at [email protected] .

  Books by D. Patrick Wagner

  (Click on a title to go to the book on Amazon)

  The Marston Chronicles

  Book 1: Sleeping in the Stars

  Book 2: Waking in the Stars

  Book 3: Meeting in the Stars

  Book 4 Battle in the Stars

  Book 5 Rescue in the Stars

  Book 6 Victory in the Stars

  Book 7 Future in the Stars

  The HEBA Narratives

  Cutter’s Saga

  Book 1 neophyte (Forthcoming)

  The Mage Wars

  Book 1: Finding Lightning

  Book 2: Using Lightning

 

 

 


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