Rise the Renegade (Rork Sollix Book 1)
Page 22
“I didn’t know,” Jord whispered.
“Don’t let ‘em touch anything. I’ll pilot us in from the third chair.” The navigator’s chair squeaked as Band’s heft found a comfortable spot. The engines kicked in once more and the Cylinder passed under them.
“Dad, what the hell!” Jord screamed. “We agreed. We talked about this!”
“No one will say anything if you’re ready to smarten up,” the old man said to Jord.
“Forget it, Dad! I thought—”
“You thought wrong.”
“Try anything — anyone — and you’re dead,” Mankin said. “That includes you, Mary Ellen, and of course, your mystic.” He chuckled.
“We are on the right path now,” Zero said. “You are doing well, my friend.”
Rork turned to meet Zero’s eyes. “Flark you. Do something for once!”
“Shut up!” Mankin said.
Rork turned to Jord, his face questioning. “Still happy about your choice of names?”
Jord swallowed, his eyes red and puffy. He looked out the viewscreen. “When Barbary took us, he made us do things. To mom. And others. In order to survive.” He squinted, his forehead wrinkled.
“Like what?”
Jord shook his head. He swallowed hard, his throat jumping. “I think it broke Dad. He can’t live in the universe the way it was before that day, before Barbary took us. Everything is flipped for him now. It’s the only way—”
“Silence!” the old man boomed.
Jord lowered his voice. “It’s the only way he could make sense of it.”
Weak old man. Rork wanted to get up and beat him until he un-broke. But the truth dawned on him in a pulse. I have to kill my father. That or I forget Lala. He tried to steel himself for the possibility but wasn’t sure if he’d found the resolve to do it or not. They’d just started to reconcile. He wanted more time with the Dad he remembered, the one who raised him, played ball with him and taught him to trade.
“I thought he was back, or on his way back,” Jord whispered.
“But Mary Ellen knew, didn’t you?” Rork glanced back in her direction and felt the pistol pressed against his scalp again.
She sobbed. “He said he’d kill me.”
Rork rolled his eyes. “I thought you preferred that.”
“SS Matata calling EDF fighter. Is that you, my handsome Rork?” Rork struggled to place the voice and he angled his head back at Mankin for permission.
“Ignore it,” the old man said.
Rork’s communications screen flashed white. The glowing image of Sophia Patel appeared on screen. She was thinner, her hair tied back in a bun now. Rork struggled to catch a glimpse of anything beneath her higher neckline.
Mankin reached over Rork’s shoulder to shut it off. Rork blocked him. Mankin dug the pistol into Rork’s neck next to his jugular.
“What’s the goddamned harm in it? You have me.”
Mankin relented.
“Citizens of Earth, I am Sophia Patel, your newly elected Speaker. As chief executive of Earth Government and Commander-in-Chief of Earth Defense Forces, I am in Jupiter orbit today, leading the largest battle group ever seen.”
Rork and Jord exchanged surprised glances. They grinned at each other.
“We are here to end the bloody private war between The Cartel—”
The deep-throated yells of thousands interrupted the Speaker. The camera flashed to an assembled mass of protestors, blue skies behind them.
“—and your beloved renegade, Rork Sollix, protector of children, fair trader to all and good, handsome man.”
An equally powerful cheer drowned out the Speaker as the camera flitted across the globe: brown people, white people, Africans and more.
A chill zipped up Rork’s spine. He sat taller in the pilot’s chair. Energy rose through his gut and peaked behind his eyes. His aches and pains eased.
“How did you do that?” Jord asked, admiration in his voice.
Rork shrugged. “I actually took her hostage. Zero and I.”
“They like you down there.”
“I guess so.”
“Fools.” Jord chuckled.
The Cylinder fell away beneath them. The fighter turned and Barbary’s home came into focus again. A tall, wide panel popped out from the Cylinder wall and retracted upwards. Glowing light erupted from inside it. Ships sat in straight rows in the gargantuan interior.
Jord whistled. “How many ships does he have?”
The Matata — an oblong cruiser flattened in the front — zoomed between the fighter and the Cylinder’s landing bay. “Calling the EDF fighter approaching the Cylinder. This is Speaker Patel. Is that you, Rork? Are you alright? Earth supports you and we are here to help you.”
“Stupid lady’s going to get herself killed!” The old man laughed.
Rork’s thoughts echoed the sentiment but he held his tongue. “Is Barbary ready for a war? Best be careful.”
“Shut up. We’re already at war.”
The Matata maneuvered closer to the fighter. “We will continue to block your path, Earth fighter, until all of us on Earth are convinced that Rork Sollix is safe and free. As your Commander-in-Chief, I order you to stop.”
“Readying weapons,” the old man said. “Accelerating.”
“Better check with your boss first!” Rork yelled. The added g-force pushed him deeper into his seat and he sensed Mankin losing his balance.
“Shut him up, Mankin!”
Mankin struck Rork across the back of the head. The pain pushed any other thoughts out of his mind. Dials clicked, buttons snapped and the fighter pitched. A pulse of plasma shot out towards the Matata.
Rork reached back, grabbed Mankin’s pulse pistol in both hands and twisted his body out of the path of its brutal beam. Mankin fired and a hole opened in the fighter’s hull.
Air screamed past Rork. He grabbed tight onto the edge of the pilot’s chair and his legs flew up towards the expanding hole.
Jord grabbed at Rork’s ankles, then disappeared with a liquid slush as everything turned red.
Mankin went next.
Rork breathed but little came. He looked back. The Matata filled the viewport now. The fighter crashed into it and both ships fell into the landing bay of the Barbary Cylinder.
41
“WE HAVE to get out of here!” Zero yelled.
Laser shots sparked on the deck around them. The E56 fighter was salvage now. Only a thin sliver of millimeter-thick, carbon-scored hull protected them from the laser barrage.
“How many men does he have?” Rork asked.
“Zero,” Zero said. “They’re all machines — automated.”
Rork pushed himself out of cover and eyed the landing bay roof. A row of tiny, unmanned sentry guns ran down the center of the landing bay. They paused, adjusted and Rork pushed himself back under cover.
An explosion of concentrated fire hit the deck next to him. Reality slowed and muted but a dim urgency remained.
Zero crouched over him again and sound returned to Rork’s universe. “There’s a door about a hundred meters behind me, if you think we can make it.”
Rork eyed the door. Between it and his location, the Matata sat, smoking. He looked back at the sentries. They’d shoot over the fighter wreckage. He’d be dead before he got ten meters.
“Who’s left?” Rork asked.
“You, me, Mary Ellen.”
“My dad?”
Zero shrugged.
“Can you run?” Rork flexed his legs. His right knee screamed, and he cringed.
Zero nodded.
“Weapons?” Rork arched his head up and looked around. It was dark and dusty. Bits of metal, glass and plastic covered the deck and dug into the walls.
“Nothing.”
“I—” Rork started.
“Be proud. Even if we make it no further, you have already—”
“Flark that! Now, I’m going to run out ahead and distract the sentries. You two run out that door you be
hind me. Use the Matata for cover if you have to. Got it? Is she ready? Mary Ellen!”
“What!”
“Are you ready to run back to the door?” Rork pointed past her.
“I’m ready to be done with you!”
“Help me, Jupiter!”
“Yes, okay? Yes,” she said.
“On three.” Rork squatted at the edge of the cover, wondering if his knee would respond. “One, two, three!”
Rork darted out toward the sentries. His knee was slow, but it was enough, even though there was no cover. There were at least a dozen ships left, far away at the other end of the bay. He spied flashes outside. The other side of the bay was open now. He ran straight, then turned and pivoted on his bad knee. It gave way and he fell, his brother’s blood smearing off of his clothes and onto the floor.
Laser pulses exploded around him. His bad leg burned. Rork got up again and limp-ran back, slipping in the blood. More pulses crashed to the deck near him. Sparks flying, he swerved. He passed the remains of the fighter. It was a miracle they’d survived such a scrap heap.
A pulse nicked Rork’s forearm and the pain shot through him. The Matata sat, smoking, ten meters ahead, apparently intact. Rork threw himself under its flat, pointed prow.
Pulses rained down around the edge of the meager cover. Warm air swam over Rork and his skin goosebumped. He grabbed a piece of debris the size of his forearm and forced his breath to slow.
The door was not more than five meters ahead. Zero poked his head out.
“Come on!”
Rork took one last breath, tossed the debris left and limp-sprinted towards the door. He threw himself the last three meters, landing on his stomach against the cold deck. He looked up at Zero and smiled.
“Help me, Rork!” The voice came from the landing bay.
“What’s that?” Rork asked Zero. He picked himself up and walked towards the door. A laser pulse landed millimeters from his toes and he stepped back.
The Speaker faced him from behind the long side of her wrecked ship, mere meters from where he’d rested. She reached a hand towards him. A laser pulse landed just ahead of her fingers and she pulled them back like a bolt.
Rork shook his head at her. Stupid woman. Since when did the EG get so careless with its leaders? He didn’t like her. She was a fake.
But she was also a beautiful woman. And she might come in handy.
“Please!”
“Rork! We must go!” Zero said from behind him.
Rork motioned for the Speaker to follow them. She shifted her weight to get up then shifted back. She started to sob.
Rork sighed. He looked back at Zero. “Hold on.”
“No!” Mary Ellen yelled.
Rork sprinted out of the doorway, laser pulses sparking around him. He grabbed the Speaker’s hand, her face a study in gratitude, and pulled her back with him to safety.
“Oh my Rork, you saved me!” The Speaker ran her hands over his chest and laid her cheek against him. “Thank you.”
Rork pulled her off of him. She smelled of vanilla, cinnamon and something else that made certain parts of him move under their own steam. But he set that aside. He grabbed one of her thin shoulders in each of his meaty hands and shook her. “Keep up! I’m not doing that again.”
“Are we ready yet?” Mary Ellen asked. “Or is there another helpless princess out there you need to save?” She limped deeper into the Cylinder, Zero at her side.
The Speaker swooned and fell into line behind Rork.
Rork caught up to Mary Ellen. “Which way are we going?” He looked down the wide exit corridor. It stopped five meters up and made a sharp left turn. “How close is she to here?”
Mary Ellen stopped and looked back at him. “You really have no clue. Just follow me.”
Rork grabbed her arm. “No. Everything you know, I need to know. You know the layout. I know the tactics. We’re going to be communicating a lot. Give me a sense of the general layout.”
The Speaker came up next to Rork, her arm around his back, her side and breast pushed up against his arm. “This is Rork Sollix, the renegade! You need to—”
Rork pushed her away, shaking his head. “Don’t do that. Just be quiet and maybe you’ll make it out alive.”
The Speaker shifted her hips and looked Rork up and down, her eyes dancing between hurt pride and smoldering desire.
Rork turned back to Mary Ellen. “I apologize. Now, please?”
Mary Ellen limped over to within millimeters of Rork. She grabbed his eyes with hers. “I am helping you because you have something to offer me.”
“Protection.”
She nodded. “Are we clear on that?”
Rork nodded. “I’ve got your back. I won’t forget this.”
She poked a small finger into his chest. “You had better not! Now, come on.”
They reached the left turn. Rork leaned against the wall and poked his head out just enough to glance around the corner. There was a tall, oval bulkhead door at the end of the narrowing corridor. Nothing else.
The wall behind Rork’s shoulder flickered, then illuminated. Rork jumped back. Barbary’s face appeared.
“I’m impressed,” Barbary said, “but your induction was to take place elsewhere.”
Rork looked up and down the corridors. There was no sign of an attack force.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Barbary threw his head back and his gold teeth jumped up and down. His eyes and mouth narrowed and he leaned in. “You had your chance. Lala is dead. And so are you and your companions.”
“What about me?” the Speaker asked.
“You and I will negotiate, my dear.” A leering smirk erupted on his face. “Oh and I’m looking forward to visiting with you, too, Mary Ellen.” The screen went dark.
Rork stared at the screen, his eyes glazing over. What if this really was the wrong cylinder? What if he had another one? What if she really is dead?
Mary Ellen stood in front of him pounding his chest. “Answer me! You have to protect me!”
Rork grabbed her thin wrists and steadied them. “The faster—”
“No! I won’t! Just— I have to get out!” She moved back towards the landing bay.
Rork jerked her towards him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and hugged her to him. She tensed, then collapsed against him and sobbed.
“I’m going to protect you.” Rork wanted to protect them all, and more to boot. His chest sparked with determination but in the back of his mind a voice reminded him that he would likely die here today. He imagined them turning and leaving, squealing like pigs running from slaughter.
That was someone else. It wasn’t Rork. Not this Rork, maybe an alternate-universe version of himself. Because the universe would not be the universe unless Rork did everything he could to save Lala and get his revenge on Barbary.
Zero opened the tall oval door. Warm, moist air floated down the hall towards them. A sweet, organic scent reached Rork’s nose.
“What is that?” he asked Mary Ellen.
She smiled through the tears. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
The three of them limped and ran to the door the best they could. Rork opened it slightly to look straight ahead. What he saw confused him. He stepped a foot through and looked to the right, his eyes wide. Wow!
Straight ahead, for kilometers, an inviting green forest ran ahead of them. Just above the forest and on both sides of the Cylinder, transparent panels extended for its considerable length. Europa's cracked surface peeked through on one side and on the other Jupiter’s swirling eye came into view.
Rork looked up. Above a cloudy haze, simple two-story brick homes hung upside down. Flowing multi-colored gardens and burbling streams ran among the randomly placed homes. A narrow, black street curved a path through it all.
Farther on, a steel and glass office tower connected the homes with the forest. The top of the tower was circular, as if someone had placed the brim of an old sheriff’s hat on it.
It twisted Rork’s gut and he wanted out of there.
“Incredible,” Zero muttered.
The Speaker wrapped her hands around Rork’s bicep and purred. “It’s so quaint!”
Rork shook her off and looked at Mary Ellen. “What I want to know is how we’re going to find Lala in all of this!”
42
“I’M PRETTY sure it’s this one.”
“Based on what?” Rork asked.
“On the sound of her voice and what she said. And... my own experience,” Mary Ellen said.
He looked up. There was the forest above him now, the canopy an engaging light green from here. It was a new color for him and his eyes lingered on it. It made him feel lighter. His mind felt fresher. And there was the door to the landing bay next to it. He recalled the small fleet of ships and hoped at least one of them was operational.
She smacked him in the chest. “Hey, come on. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to.”
He walked up the rocky path to the front door of the two-story, red-brick home. Neglected bushes grew along the path, their branches and leaves sprouting without human guidance. He pushed on the red door and it swung open.
She pushed past him. “They must have evacuated. Maybe he built another Cylinder. My mother lived here.”
“This is your house? I thought you were in a rush? We don’t have time for your trip down memory lane.”
“They trusted my mother to care for new girls.” She ran in and turned right, out of Rork’s view. “Come on, up here!”
Rork turned the corner, stopped and looked back. “You two keep watch here.”
Zero and the Speaker nodded.
He flew up a flight of stairs. Mary Ellen screamed. He turned right at the top. She blocked his path.
“Don’t come in here!”
Rork pushed past her. There on the rough, bare floor lay Lala’s body, clad in a see-through blue mesh dress, her legs spread open and her wrists cut cross-wise. Blood still trickled out of them.