by TS Hottle
Suicide Run
TS Hottle
CHBB Publishing
Copyright © 2021 by Thomas Hottle
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by Nicola Ormerod
Edited by Jenn Nixon and SJ Davis
Published by CHBB Publishing
To Candy Jo,
First face I see every morning
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Acknowledgments
Also by TS Hottle
1
Every morning and every evening, Cui Yun left her hut along the abandoned reservoir and meditated for an hour. In the morning, she faced west to watch the sunrise. She spent the hour in complete silence, no matter the weather, listening to the water of the reservoir lap on the shoreline. She could smell the vegetation coming back after the year-long occupation. Occasionally, she could hear the distant sounds of heavy vehicles and blasting, usually during mornings and less frequently as time passed. In cold weather, she would pull her Navy jacket around her, the one that had seen her through a former life. In extreme heat, she would sit nude on the shore, spread a blanket beneath her, not caring if someone saw her. This was her space; everyone else was an interloper. Most mornings, she simply wore her night clothes and, in the evenings, a pair of canvass slacks and a light tunic.
Always, she sat on the shore barefoot. Very important, Akrad once told her. The ritual made her ache for him some mornings.
One morning, some eighteen months after the occupation of Amargosa ended, Cui Yun found her nickname very much on her mind as she watched the sunrise. Wearing polarized shades, she stared into the sun and could see a black spot on its disk just as it cleared the horizon. So, Atlas, the "hot Jupiter" at the center of the system, would wreak havoc with the tides today. For some reason, that made her think of her nickname. Certainly, she had wreaked enough havoc in her day. Most people who had heard of her had only heard her nickname. Occasionally, they would know she had been born Cui Yun, the name her wrist chip still provided as legal identification.
But today, it occurred to her how inappropriate her nickname seemed. She had certainly taken risks as a pilot and a soldier that most would not. Even her reckless protégé, now living in a cabin not far from where she now sat, would not take the risks she had. They had given her the name during her time on the Hancock, and it stuck. She accepted it the way her euro friend accepted the moniker Earth Man, referring to a world he would likely never return to if he had his way.
They called her "Suicide," but she never had the urge to take her own life, not even after someone gave her Akrad's ashes in a bullet locket early in the Polygamy Wars. Not when a café bombing took her wife from her on Aphrodite. That part was important, too, for Cui Yun was never alone. The only man and the only woman she ever loved hung around her neck now, bits of ash sealed in shells from a KR-27 rifle, whether she bundled up for dawn and dusk or stripped down. She had lost them both, and yet, she never had the urge to take her own life.
She had to love the irony.
She pulled on a pair of lightweight slacks, the humidity in the air telling her even the dry air of the nearby mountains would not cool her today. Across rough sand and into hard, sharp grass, the reddish kind native to Amargosa, not the green stuff imported from other worlds, dug into her feet. She felt it even through the callouses. Having seen Atlas in its poor attempt to eclipse the sun, Yun would now let the world in, which meant her name became Suicide once more. And Suicide fully expected a summons out to pull a fishing boat in.
Most likely, it would be a Gelt crew. Amargosa's former occupiers were masters of air and space travel, efficient soldiers, and brilliant technologists. They couldn't, as her protégé might have said, "swim for shit."
Perhaps he would get the summons, assuming he wasn't down at his late wife's farm chasing bots around the field and forcing them to do the current owner's bidding. Lately, Suicide had craved more time away from people, as if she did not have enough already. The hut had been fully stocked for the month, with some surplus, and her friend always made sure the farm sent food her way. In theory, she could go a season without seeing another human, a Gelt, or even the werewolf-like lycanths, though most of those beasts in her region were not sapient. Not people, you mean, she told herself. They can't speak. They can't do math. They just eat, breed, and howl every damn night when the moon is full.
As she stepped into what passed for her yard around the corrugated metal hut she called home, she saw a bundle. Her left palm tingled, the nano-tatt signaling her she had a message coming in, but the bundle drew her attention first. Whatever it was, it came wrapped in a plain white quilt, the kind used in hospitals in the cities on Amargosa.
Yun picked it up, opened the quilt, and gasped. A human infant lay within, its eyes closed. The infant snored. She took it into the hut and gently laid it on her bed. She'd find out if it were a boy or girl soon enough. One leg popped out of the bundle, revealing a bar code on the baby's calf. She would have to scan it later. Her palm tingled again.
The message on her palm tattoo read, "Call Plains Command immediately."
She would do so soon, but needed to make a different call. Bringing up the keypad on her palm, she tapped out the familiar set of digits. The image on her palm shifted to the face of a man who looked older than his nineteen years.
"Can you come?" she said. "I need you."
"Bots can wait a day," he said. "I'll be there by noon."
Yun flicked her wrist at one wall of the hut. Part of it transformed into a video screen with Amargosa's primary newsfeed going.
"Again, our top story," said the anchor, a pretty Tianese woman whose accent screamed off-worlder, "an attempt was made last night on Governor Best. The governor is in critical condition in a New Lansdorp hospital. His wife, Administrator Jayne Best, has gone missing. Authorities suspect she has been abducted."
Suicide uttered a phrase she had not said since her art school days on Tian. "Well, shit."
The squat two-story shuttle surprised Suicide as it approached. Short, with a wide lower fuselage, it normally invoked fear in enemy troops. It meant another such craft had already disgorged a squad of Marines from orbit, and Navy or Border Guard Spec Force troopers waited inside to come swarming out. She knew. She had flown one of these during the liberation. The Gelt remaining on Amargosa had told her they did not like that many had been converted to civilian use.
She expected her visitor, however, to arrive by barrow, a ground vehicle favored by most of Amargosa's rural inhabitants with two wheels in the front, a pair of treads in the back, and a long open bed behind the cab. Her friend had commandeered a military one for himself when the occupation ended, calling it, as so many of the liberators, resistance fighters, and stranded Gelt did, compensation for the war.
He normally came by barrow, the farm vehicle bouncing along the still-unpaved roads north of the Townships. That, or he would come by foot if he were in the Townships themselves. The shuttle, a type dubbed a "Falcon" by the Navy, told her he had been in one of the cities. Which meant he had been called to duty.
The Falcon bore the markings of the Amargosan Colonial Guard. Only lettering on the craft's belly, "Property of Compact Navy," gave any hint that it actually belonged to the Compact proper, not Amargosa. After two years, Suicide still did not know if she lived in the Compact or not. That civilian Gelt remained on the planet after their kind had trampled it for a year still surprised her, never mind Amargosa's status in political limbo.
The craft settled in a wide section of thin, dry grass, its antigravs and maneuvering jets kicking up dust. Given the fuel a planetary hop would take, Suicide guessed her friend had been in the capital or had been shuttling to and from the surface. So much for bot wrangling.
The assault hatch fell open in the back, becoming a ramp as it lowered to the ground. Instead of a dozen hyped-up soldiers with KR-27 rifles lit up and racked, a single euro male strolled out wearing a civilian flight suit.
So, he's Amargosa this time¸ she thought, not Navy. And not Hanar. This last, a polity started almost as an apology for a Gelt invasion elsewhere, had been making overtures to Amargosa to join with them. She had seen her friend in their uniform and in that of the Compact Navy since they both "retired" to this place.
He had been busy, a couple of days' stubble on his chin, his already messy hair ruffled by wind, and matted with sweat. He had bags under his eyes, but he also walked with a bounce Suicide envied. Even rejuve could not restore that spring people had in their step before their twenty-fifth birthdays. Aging may have been stalled, even reversed in some cases, but it still took its toll in certain ways, just to remind humans that amortal still meant mortal.
Her friend needed rejuve. Never mind that he would not turn twenty for a few more months. The war and its aftereffects had changed him. The illusion of greater age that had served him as a ruse in his younger days now displayed the weight the occupation still had on him. He walked like a man whose burdens refused to leave.
"I came as soon as I heard," he said. "Mom." He winked.
The word "mom" brought a smile to her face, despite herself. Yes, it was a joke between them, but the word struck a nerve with her every time. This man was her son, if only by choice, and with no legal declaration. "JT, if I were your mother, you would have been spanked as a child."
He took a pair of shades out of his breast pocket and put them on. The name "Lt. J.T. Austin" stood out on the pocket. "I'm glad I was never spanked until I was an adult." He frowned. "Not that I've had much opportunity these days. You heard?"
"Governor Best? Yes." She gestured toward the Falcon, the name Goldeneye stenciled on the side. "Yours?"
"The Colony's," said Austin. "Been flying over the pole the last couple of days, trying to rally some lycanth packs in case very bad things go down, and we're on our own again."
"What about our gray friends?" she said, referring to the Gelt. "Nervous? Hopeful?"
"They're a bunch of scared settlers brought here against their will," said Austin. "They're just happy we're not shooting them, and the lycanths aren't trying to eat them. Well, the intelligent ones. We all need a shotgun and several boxes of shells to hold off the wild ones." He glanced toward the hut. "You said you needed me. I flew straight here from my last run instead of to the farm. What's happened?"
As if on cue, a baby's cry sounded from the hut.
"Oh," said Austin. "Well, that's…"
"You know what the best part about considering you my son is?" said Suicide.
He gave her a half-smile. "It's not real, and I was practically an adult when we met?" He gestured toward the house. "Lead the way."
"It's a baby all right," said Austin.
Suicide glared at him. "Thanks. The world's coming apart again. Someone leaves a baby literally on my doorstep, and you provide me with the wise, insightful counsel I've come to count on."
He gave her a sheepish grin. "Sorry. It's just surprising when you see it. What do you need from me? Fly it into New Lansdorp?"
Suicide scooped up the baby and instinctively held the fussing bundle against her shoulder. "She could have been left in any of the settlements for that. Someone obviously wanted her out of the system."
He held out his arms. "Can I see her?"
She gently handed the baby to him, impressed with how gently he took her into his arms. The baby immediately stopped fussing. "You may have a hidden talent, Austin."
"Bite your tongue. The last thing the galaxy needs is a new race of juvenile delinquents raised by me." He undid the wrappings. "Hello, little girl. Let's see if anyone left us a clue." He exposed a leg. "Oh." He pulled up the leg. There was some sort of bar code on her calf. "She's from the Colony."
"I saw that earlier, but Central has been pelting me with messages." Suicide reached over and took her p-com off the table. Snapping a photo of the bar code, she waited. "Oh, no."
JT looked up at her. "What?"
"Do you know who you're holding?"
"No idea. The last infant I held was Lattus Athena, and she's a cub now."
Suicide turned the p-com's display toward him. It read "Naomi Best. Someone from the Colony dropped her off here." She looked down at the baby and held her finger out. The baby grasped it. "If this is the governor's daughter, where is her mother?"
"Where's her sister?" He lowered her gently back onto the quilt and bunched it up so she wouldn't roll off the table. "The Bests have another daughter, one named for the governor's late wife."
"Carolyn," said Suicide. "The news has been quiet about the children. Carolyn can't be more than eighteen months if that." She looked down at the infant. "This one must have been born less than a month ago." She began pacing. "She can't stay here. I've had three messages to call Plains Command, which means I'm going to be summoned to New Lansdorp any minute now."
JT frowned. "Walden might be a safe place. And my friend is there, pretending she's not who she really is."
"What is she doing there?" She then remembered the antics that stranded JT on Amargosa three years earlier. "You two aren't…"
He put up his hand. "Please. She has better taste in men than me. As to what she's doing…" He looked up at the ceiling, reviewing some mental list. "She showed up two nights ago driving a rented barrow and proceeded to clean my cabin within an inch of its life. During my run to the far side the other day, she did my laundry, weeded my garden, and ordered her representatives here on Amargosa to drop ship a month's relief rations to the property." He grinned. "Last night, she made the most delicious gosalope stew I've had since Lizzy and her mother were alive."
The mention of his late wife made her gaze fall to the bullet locket hanging around his neck. "High praise, considering how much you raved about your late mother-in-law's cooking."
He spread his hands. "She still cooks for a few people close to her. Takes that 'servant leader' image to heart."
"Wait, if she's here, who's in charge on Hanar."
He scoffed. "No one knows she's gone. Well, her chancellor and the Sheriff, but no one else. 'Alone time with her daughter' they call it. Oh, by the way, she brought Athena." He frowned. "Three years old, and she's already beating me at chess."
"Gelt children do develop faster than human ones."
He rolled his eyes. "Three is the equivalent of five, and at five, I was still playing in mud and generally annoying my parents."
"Women develop faster than…"
He looked at his left palm. "Well, look at the time. Gotta check on the bots down on the farm."
Suicide put up her hands. "All right, all right."
"So, we take her to Walden?"
Suicide pressed her lips thin. "Will it be an imposition?"
He sighed. "She sometimes plays the servant with me as a gesture of friendship. Won't let me return the favor. So, as my friend, she'll do me the favor. As a mother, she'll see it as protecting Jayne Best's child until Jayne is found." He shrugged. "As First Citizen of Hanar, it'll be a goodwill gesture to lure Amargosa into her fold." He smiled. "You know my feelings on that subject."
"Yo
u still have a crush on her."
"That, too, but I think she offers us the best way forward."
"If only because you have a head of state cooking and cleaning for you."
"That, and she loves watching cheesy holos and drinking local ale with me. So, want me to call her?"
"On one condition."
"Name it."
"I fly."
JT seemed to deflate. "You still have no faith in me as a pilot."
"Not until you go to Academy like I keep telling you."
Naomi fed greedily as the young Gelt woman suckled her. Dressed in a serving girl's shift, she took naturally to holding the human infant to her.
"I did some checking while you two were in the air," said the woman. "My doctors said human infants can drink Gelt milk, at least early on." She adjusted Naomi against her as the baby made a muffled, fussing sound. "We can lactate at will, so I massaged…"
Suicide put up her hands. "Tishla, stop. Austin here might like talking anatomical differences with you, but there are some things I'm squeamish about."
Tishla smiled at both of them. "Humans. Sometimes, you're so silly about bodies, yours and ours." Before JT could say something raunchy, she added, "Sometimes too silly."
JT visibly bit down on some obvious smart-ass remark he was about to make.
"I put on my First Citizen's hat while I waited for you two," Tishla continued. "My people have nothing on it, and our representatives here on Amargosa are just as in the dark about it as you are. Have you contacted your command yet, Commander Cui?"
Suicide would never understand why Tishla would not call her by her moniker like everyone else. "I'm to report to New Lansdorp with Austin here. We've been called to duty by Amargosa."
