The Money Star

by Jon Lymon

  “You have told Miss Aurora about your daughter then?”

  Aurora looked inquisitively at Remnant who clamped his eyes shut. “You have told her about the wedding? The wedding you sacrificed to come on this trip?”

  “Yeah, she knows all about that,” Remnant lied.

  “What man deserts his daughter when she needs him most, to go on a treasure hunt, Miss Aurora?”

  “I…er…yeah, Sye told me about that. It was a pretty tough decision for anyone to have to make, I guess.”

  “Do you think so?” DT sounded disappointed.

  “Look, I think you should come out now, DT,” said Remnant. “We’re getting bored of talking to a door.”

  “Yeah, why don’t you come on out and hit Remnant and give me a slap too. I sure as hell deserve it.”

  “Why do you deserve it, Miss Aurora?”

  She looked at Remnant. “I kind of lied to you all on Mars. About paying with a card.” She looked guiltily at Remnant. “It’s just a trick I pulled on every tank I filled up. You were the first guys to fall for it.”

  There was the sound of something on the receiving end of a kick inside the pod.

  “I definitely can not come out now,” moaned DT. “It is too embarrassing.”

  Remnant realised the softly softly approach to negotiation was exhausted. “If you don’t come out now, I’m coming in,” he shouted, gripping the edges of the hatch. It was an aggressive move that DT reacted to by firing up the pod’s engines.

  “No, DT,” Remnant shouted. “You’re taking our only escape route with you.” He tried to pull the hatch off its hinges. The metallic door bent at the corner. Remnant peered into the gap but could only see a darkened entrance to a tunnel.

  “It’s been nice knowing you all,” DT called out.

  A hiss announced the sealing of the pod door.

  “Bettis, get here,” Remnant yelled as he and Aurora managed to bend the top corner of the hatch still further.

  The pilot rushed over and added his fingers to the mix, but the door would only bend. They could not free it from its hinges.

  The sound of the pod’s engines grew louder.

  “He’s not seriously…” Bettis leaned his mouth over the hole they had created. “You’ll never make it, DT,” he shouted. “We’re too far from Earth.”

  The pod’s engines reached a crescendo. Then the three remaining crew were rocked back onto their heels by a ferocious blast of heat gushing through the gap they’d bent in the hatch. The pod had detached. They ran into the cockpit in time to see it zoom off into space ahead of them.

  DT was rocketing his way back to Earth, cradling a shiny lump of rock he hoped he was wrong about and dreams of fame he hoped would be realised.

  49

  A hand pushed Haygue who was slumped in the co-pilot’s seat. The old man groaned, the dribble that had been forming on his lower lip like an icicle dropping into his lap. The second push was firmer, causing Haygue to slump forward onto the dash.

  “Wake up, Haygue.”

  Haalange looked down on the SEC boss. Haygue’s eyes opened, the lids as red as the sclera. He struggled to focus and looked over to M Krugler for help, but the pilot was sitting, staring at him, a guard’s laser gun to his head.

  “What is this, hell?”

  “Not yet,” Haalange told him, yanking him upright in his chair.

  “How did you get on this ship?” Haygue spat through dry lips.

  “Sleeping men offer very little resistance.”

  “Well, we’re awake now. So get off my ship.”

  “I think you will find this is my ship. You stole it.”

  “This ship is the property of the government of the United States of America, of which I am a servant.”

  Haalange snorted in derision. “I wonder how united those states are at this moment in time.”

  “What are you talking about? Who are you?”

  “Call me, I don’t know, your nation’s chief benefactor? I’m Zeut Haalange, Mr Haygue. Bankroller of this little mission of NASA, SEC or whatever else you’re calling yourselves today.”

  Haygue looked at him with confusion.

  “Your so-called united states are bankrupt,” Haalange continued. “And but for me, there would have been civil unrest long ago.”

  Haygue pointed weakly at Haalange, his eyes staring, watering. “What did you do to Jack?”

  “Ah yes, Jack and his young colleagues. I am not sure what happened to them.” He looked over his shoulder at the two guards who were standing impossibly upright behind him, guns pointed at Haygue and M Krugler respectively. Both men smirked. “Anyway, enough of the pleasantries. I am sure you know why I am here.”

  “That diamond is the property of…”

  “…the United States of America. I know the drill, Haygue. Unfortunately, this diamond has been labelled a biohazard by what little is left of your government. I therefore have the authority to destroy it.”

  “Show me the papers.”

  “There are no papers.”

  “There’s always papers. That’s why things take so long to get done. Papers that need signing, countersigning, witnessing. If there’s no papers, there’s no taking the diamonds.”

  “I have no interest in taking your diamonds, Mr Haygue. We are here to destroy them.”

  Haygue looked at Haalange with incredulity. “So it was you who bombed the facility and flattened Gasoline Alley?”

  “A necessary evil, I am afraid. All those who have come into contact with the asteroid pose a risk to the human race.”

  “What are you talking about? What do you care about the human race? You’re just a diamond hustler who doesn’t want any gems getting back to Earth.”

  “So, you do know who I am.”

  “Of course I fucking do. No one expected the mighty Haalange Corps to take the news of the asteroid sitting down.” Haygue’s mocking tone infuriated Haalange.

  “I would have rather taken more time over planning my response to the discovery of the asteroid. You really should keep a closer eye on your former employees, Mr Haygue.”

  Haygue started chuckling to himself. “Ah, you mean the elusive Onamoto.”

  “Not much has been heard of him recently. He was the most wanted man in America for some time, I believe. I expect someone has dealt with him.”

  Haygue shook his head and slowly turned to stare at Haalange. “Let me tell you something about Onamoto, Haalange. You. Are. Looking. At. Him.”

  The South African started to laugh, then stopped abruptly when he saw how serious Haygue was.

  “I am Onamoto,” said Haygue, slowly, deliberately, enjoying the shock of the revelation.

  Haalange stared down at the old man.

  “Think about it. He was the only person who could get things done, quickly. I couldn’t. Jack and my other bosses couldn’t. The President couldn’t. But a snake in the grass? A former employee with a grudge who starts singing like a canary? Man, there was no better way of getting the people in the corridors of power panicking and pulling their fingers out. Onamoto worked like a dream.”

  Haalange’s expression remained stern. “Onamoto has cost many people their lives, Mr Haygue. You will take the weight of that responsibility to your grave.”

  “Onamoto didn’t kill anyone. He just told the truth.”

  “Sometimes the truth is the most dangerous weapon.”

  “Yeah, but telling the truth gets things done. The only problem is it took me my whole life to realise that.”

  A loud noise from the ship’s hold distracted both men.

  “What’s going on back there?” Haygue asked, trying to get to his feet. Haalange pushed him back into his seat.

  “We are removing the diamond.”

  “What are you going to do, blow it up like you did on Mars?”

  “We are going to set it free then shoot it down like a sitting duck. While you watch.”

  “Man, are you going to be public enemy number one back home.�
�

  “You have been away a long time. Do not think your home is as you left it. The greed of your own people, chasing the so-called American dream, like some twenty-first Century Gold Rush has finished your nation. The West is no longer the best, Mr Haygue. There will be a new world order once the war is over. A more balanced planet where all countries, no matter what their size or stature, have an equal say.”

  “You’re deranged, Haalange. The United States will remain the world’s strongest nation for a thousand years.”

  Haalange smiled and shook his head. “Your own citizens have stolen your nuclear deterrent from under your noses. It will take a generation to replenish that weaponry. And long before then, maybe we will have discovered another diamond asteroid. Or created one.

  Haalange pointed to one of the lumps of diamond Haygue had been transporting home floating past the cockpit window. They watched it drift by in silence, its beauty unmistakable, but the dangers inherent in that beauty all too real for the men who had fought to secure it, and those who were preparing to destroy it.

  Haalange spoke briefly and coldly into his intercom then turned to Haygue. “Say goodnight to the American dream, Mr Haygue.”

  Seconds later the rock was struck by a laserbolt that shattered the diamond, its charred remains falling onto the ship like pills spilling onto a roof. Haalange nodded to the two guards standing behind him and they moved towards Haygue who stood and faced Haalange. “My dream might be over, Haalange. But you will never kill the American dream.”

  Haalange pursed his lips in brief thought and then strode out the room.

  The first guard then coldly delivered a sharp laserbolt to M Krugler’s forehead, and the bulky pilot slumped forward in his seat.

  As the second guard took aim at Haygue’s temple, the veteran grabbed the American flag and gripped the stars and sang The Star Spangled Banner.

  50

  The Baton Uric was a trickier ship to steer minus its escape pod. It had been designed to fly with it, of course, and Edgar had assumed that if the pod were ever to be deployed, there’d be no one left on board the main ship to worry about how difficult it was to pilot.

  Bettis quietly monitored the direction in which the ship’s computer was taking them, making a few adjustments here and there to compensate for the fact that the vessel was listing towards its heavier port side now the pod was missing from starboard.

  It was a nervous time for the three remaining crew. Bettis had lost his closest ally, and all aboard felt more self-conscious with diamond in their hold, and more vulnerable with their pod missing. In the weeks that followed, every dot in the sky was no longer an anonymous star but a heavily-armed ship, its menacing crew of pirates hellbent on relieving them of their hard-won haul. Every flash and twinkle of a star was no longer a mysterious world millions of miles away but a laser beam heading their way.

  Under such circumstances, paranoia became king. They knew that they were a defenceless target with a priceless cargo on board. They knew it was just a matter of time before Bettis made the announcement they’d all been fearing, yet expecting. And sure enough, eventually it came.

  “We’ve got company,” he said, flatly, pointing to a dot on the radar.

  Remnant glanced at it. “Do you know what, I’m sick of dots on that bloody screen. All of them have been nothing but trouble.”

  “I suspect this will be no different.”

  A light on the dashboard announced an incoming radio message. Bettis looked to Remnant who nodded.

  The voice was stern, clipped, almost robotic. ‘This is the Haalange Corps. We are tracking your ship. We will shoot you down, repeat, shoot you down, unless you follow orders.’

  “How far away are they?” Remnant asked.

  “I estimate they are a few thousand miles behind.”

  “Reckon we can make a run for it?”

  “It’s hard to say, not knowing what kind of ship they’re in.”

  “It’s got to be worth a try.”

  Bettis nodded. “Crew, seats for, I dunno…”

  “The race home?” Remnant suggested. He was about to head to the back of the cockpit and stand alongside Aurora who was already strapping herself into the rear seat when he realised there was a vacant seat next to Bettis.

  Slowly and uncertainly he lowered himself onto the comfortable Bentley leather, feeling both at home and awkward, a little undeserving even. He waited for Bettis to comment, but the pilot had his eyes fixed on the radar. “We’re ready, captain.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  Bettis eased the thruster forward and the Baton Uric responded forcefully, throwing the three crew back into their seats, G-forces spreading their already red and bloated cheeks and rattling their lips and teeth.

  Remnant enjoyed the sensation of speed, and took comfort in the knowledge that with every second they were getting closer and closer to successfully completing their mission.

  “Come on, Bettis. Give it some more.”

  Bettis glanced down at the radar, then back up to the windscreen then back down again. “We’re going as fast as we possibly can.”

  The Baton Uric was rattling under the pressure of the intense speed. Bettis looked down at the radar again. Was that a fault with the equipment? He tapped the circular face. There was a continuous thin line on the radar that spread across the diameter of the screen. And it was up ahead.

  Remnant noticed his pilot’s consternation. “What’s up?”

  Bettis checked some other controls on the dash. “There’s something up ahead.”

  “Earth, I hope?”

  “Before that. It looks like some kind of wall.”

  “A wall? In space?”

  “I’ve given up being surprised by what other people will do,” said Bettis. “If we don’t slow down, we’re going to crash right into it.”

  “But whoever’s chasing us will catch up.”

  “I think that’s an inevitability,” Bettis said, pointing to the dot pursuing them on the radar. It was closer than it had been ten minutes ago.

  Remnant’s instinct was to keep running, never look back. But there were no shadows to fall back into with his loot up here. He looked back to Aurora, who looked hopefully towards him. “Slow down,” he ordered Bettis, reluctantly.

  The pilot eased off the thrust.

  “What’s going on?” Aurora asked.

  “They’re catching us up,” Remnant told her, resignation tainting his voice. “And there’s some kind of wall up ahead.”

  The precise nature of what lay in front soon revealed itself. Remnant and Bettis gazed in awe at the most spellbinding man-made entity they’d ever seen – a line of hovering ships faced them, extending further than the eye could see to both the left and the right, each no more than fifty metres apart.

  As the Baton Uric slowed and the roar of the engine died, the confusion of radio messages being transmitted by the wall of ships came through. In between the muddle and the noise and the interference, a theme became clear. The Baton Uric would be shot down if they proceeded any further.

  “What are they all doing?” Remnant asked.

  “It looks like a wall to protect the Earth,” Bettis replied.

  “From what?”

  Bettis turned to face Remnant. “Us.”

  “Stop right in front of one of them ships,” Remnant told Bettis, “Whoever’s chasing us ain’t gonna try and shoot us down if we’re that close to another ship.”

  Bettis drew the Baton Uric to a halt a few metres in front of one of the vessels in the wall, its crew obscured by a tinted cockpit window. Remnant’s crew waited nervously, and heard the roar of their chasing ship draw near. They braced themselves for an impact, but no laserbolt came. Instead, the huge, magnificent ship drew alongside, close enough for the crew to read the legend ‘The Garfield’ on its starboard side. Bettis admired the quirkiness of its design, specifically the turret that adorned its top.

  A message from the South African aboard The Garfield sile
nced all the others. ‘That was a foolish move. You are fortunate we have not shot you down. But I wanted the personal pleasure of killing the people who killed my brother.’

  Remnant frowned.

  ‘We have been tracking your ship. You have been to Mars. Can you confirm?’

  “Yeah, we popped into Mars. Had a look around.” Remnant’s casual tone was not going down well aboard The Garfield.

  ‘Unless you take our threat seriously, you will be shot down,’ came the cold reply. It wasn’t the result Remnant was expecting. Bettis and Aurora looked to him. He leant forward with urgency.

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute. OK, we have some diamond.”

  A few seconds of silence followed, with each of the crew looking at the others in turn, wondering what the response would be. When it came it was cold and unequivocal. ‘You will be shot down.’

  Remnant shot to his feet, bending down to address the dashboard mic. “Hold on, if it’s diamond you want, you can have some. We’re willing to share it.”

  ‘The diamond will be destroyed.’

  Remnant pulled away from the radio. “What’s up with these people? What do they want?”

  “They want to shoot us down,” Bettis replied coldly. Remnant looked at him. “It’s nothing to do with me this time, Remnant. I haven’t said anything to them. They want to shoot me down just as much as you.”

  Remnant leaned forward toward the radio mic again. “Listen, hold fire. We’re holding your brother hostage onboard here. Repeat, we have a hostage. You need to listen to our demands, or we will kill him. Do you want me to repeat that?”

  Another painful silence followed. Bettis and Aurora looked at Remnant wondering what he was thinking.

  ‘Confirm the identity of the hostage,’ said the voice from The Garfield.

  Remnant’s eyes flitted from side to side as he rapidly flicked through his mind’s hypothetical book of tricks to find a way out of this situation. “He’s from one of the ships you sent to shoot us down earlier,” he said.

  ‘Confirm the name of the hostage.’ The message was more forceful and less patient second time around.

  “Sorry, he’s a bit tied up at the moment. But trust us, he’s here and he’s alive.”