Starfire and the Space Dragons: A Grennig Crew Adenture

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Starfire and the Space Dragons: A Grennig Crew Adenture Page 6

by Christine Westhead


  “You! Terry!” Hal looked up. Two young marines came out of a side door. Mungo Dentos, Private third class, crumpled a paper and threw it to the floor. “Pick that up.” Hal bent down, picked it up and went to walk past. They both blocked his way and Private Cloot crumpled some more paper and threw it to the ground.

  “You’re not doing your job properly, Terry. Here you are taking good Aurian money for cleaning up and leaving rubbish all over the floor. Now, what do you say?” he spoke as if he was talking to a little child.

  “Move?” suggested Hal. Starfire’s heart sank. ‘Don’t kill ‘em; please don’t kill ‘em’ she kept thinking to herself. Hal wasn’t armed. They had left all their weapons with Mike in case they were searched but she didn’t think that would stop him. He could use his shooting hand in manual combat if he had to, but he would usually find something nearby to use as a weapon. She had actually seen him viciously jab one opponent in the eye with the finger of another attacker and she didn’t want him doing it now. She pushed past Hal and picked up the paper.

  “We’re really sorry sir,” she gushed. “We’ll try to do better.”

  “See you do,” said Denton. Starfire breathed a sigh of relief and they went to walk past them when Private Cloot caught Hal’s arm. “I still haven’t had my apology, Terrellian.”

  “He’s really sorry,” said Starfire, pointing to a tight lipped and definitely not sorry-looking Hal. She glared at him in a ‘woman to errant husband by telepathy’ sort of way and he tried to look sorry. Unfortunately, he didn’t have that expression in his limited repertoire and ended up looking defiant.

  “I want to hear it from him. Now,” the young private put on a voice that a mother might use on her naughty toddler “say sorry to your betters.”

  “Sorry,” breathed Hal in his pre-kill whisper. Only Starfire knew how close to death the two soldiers were when the door opened again and a corporal came out.

  “I thought I told you guys to get down to the armoury,” he said. He suddenly noticed Hal and Starfire and waved them away as if they were flies on his salad. “Stop bothering my officers and get back to work.” They sidled past and walked away with their little carts, the soldier’s laughter ringing in their ears. Starfire checked her comlink. They had less than half an hour to find the concert and get changed.

  “They’ve started work on a new Information Retrieval building on Serrell,” said Hal softly as they waited for the aircar. There was nobody else waiting for one at this time of night and it turned up almost immediately.

  “Shit,” muttered Starfire. They sat in silence in the aircar. This wasn’t a Steel City aircar but a military one and all conversations were probably recorded as standard practice. They kept their heads down as if they were whispering together and waited for their destination to come round.

  The aircar stopped well short for security reasons, the aircar computer said. Security was probably tight because of the concert. They both gave a sigh, pulled their caps down, kept their faces low and started walking. Their ident cards were the real thing with their pictures put on afterwards, but refused to work in the secure area. Luckily, Starfire had a copy of Raan’s breaking and entering tools and used them to unlock all the doors and hatches that barred their way to the concert hall.

  Starfire had been there before and set off at a brisk pace. Time was getting on, but it wasn’t long before Micah Jones’ deep tenor tones echoed faintly down the halls. They snuck in through the stage door with a pass Meg had given them, and quietly walked towards Toola, who was waiting for them with a change of clothes. The overalls went into a trunk and they quickly dressed in plain, Terrellian style jeans and tabards to act as roadies.

  Micah Jones left the stage to tumultuous applause, caught sight of Starfire and gave her a broad smile. He left to do one encore and Toola and Hal started to pack away the equipment backstage.

  “Well?” asked Meg, when they were all safely back in their hotel suite, “Did you get what you wanted?”

  “Yep,” said Hal softly.

  “Good,” she said, “then our job here is done.”

  “Mike, I need you to do a concert on Serrell.” It wasn’t a question or a plea.

  “Serrell?” four voices spoke out in unison.

  “There’s nobody there,” said Starfire.

  “There is now,” countered Hal. “They’re even doing day trips to the fraggin’ place.

  “Go on a day trip then,” said Meg. “Micah’s booked up solid for the next six months. It would be a nightmare to re-arrange everything.”

  “That is what I hired you for, Megan.” Micah Jones’ voice took on a hard note. “I do not have tell you the debt I owe this man, so I won’t. Just know that if I did a hundred concerts all over the galaxy, it would not even begin to cover the debt I owe him. So do whatever it takes to arrange the concert. Do you understand?”

  “Sure, Mike.” Meg frowned and went into the back room to do her stuff.

  “Day trips?” gasped Starfire. “To Serrell?”

  “Yeah, I found a shuttle timetable and everything. No wonder our friends are pissed off. The Marines and their families are going there to get away from all the underground stuff on Terrell and walk about in the fresh air.”

  “That explains our message,” whispered Starfire. “One little mistake and they’ll be discovered. No wonder they’re terrified.”

  “It should just be for the one show, Micah,” stated Hal. It would get us to Serrell and everyone’s attention would be on you. We could slip away and meet our contact.”

  “I will do whatever you wish,” the huge man held a glass of something clear and gargled with it.

  “How long was I out?” asked Erion as they raced to the aircar hatch.

  “Thirteen minutes, Major,” answered Delta Ten. He placed an armful of assorted weaponry on the floor at his feet.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I deduced from your communication that you required help and I inferred from Professor Lear’s behaviour that he held a firearm on you and that Captain Raan was incapable.”

  “Incapable isn’t what I would call it,” said Erion, darkly. “Continue.”

  “When I arrived, I expected everyone to be unconscious but Adrianna awake and very upset. She tried to carry Captain Raan out of the cabin but I stopped her eventually. When she realised that she could not have him, she picked up her grandfather and left.”

  “What I can’t understand is, why you, Captain?” said Erion.

  “I don’t know, Major. Hell, I’ve always been irresistible to women but I’ve never had a result with a machine before.”

  “You have no shame, do you?” Erion shook her head in dismay. She realised that whatever hold Adrianna had over Captain Raan had now dissipated and he looked more relieved than upset. “I take it that you no longer want to elope?” The aircar slowed to a halt. Erion had programmed it for the stop before the engine room and they stepped out cautiously. The ship’s computer spoke again.

  “The coolant to Number One engine has been turned off. Number One engine will overheat in thirty minutes and fourteen seconds. I will repeat this warning every ten minutes.”

  Erion had to use the computer override to open the hatch to the engine room. Adrianna and her grandfather were there with their backs to them and she was busy at the computer interface for the engine systems. Professor Lear was pleading with her, almost in tears.

  “There is no reason to do this, Adrianna. We can try again. I can find you another husband.”

  “Husband?” Raan mouthed the word to Erion. He had the expression of someone who had just escaped a terrible fate.

  “I don’t want another husband, Grandfather. I want him. And if I can’t have him nobody will.”

  “Professor Lear,” Erion spoke quietly and they both spun around.

  “Don’t try and stop me, Delta Ten,” said Adrianna. She had managed to get herself a sonic carbine from somewhere and she aimed it at his head.

  “P
lease, Professor,” began Erion, “What is happening here?”

  “This is all my fault.” The old man gave out a plaintive sob. “I took Adrianna in when her parents were killed.”

  “I’m with you so far, Professor,” said Erion in an even tone. She had hopes that she could distract them long enough for Del to get behind them, but Adrianna kept the gun pointed straight at his head.

  “I am dying, Major. I needed to find someone to take care of her after I am gone. She is all I have, Major. I cannot let her down.”

  “But why do it this way?” asked Erion. “She was beautiful and very sweet. Surely you could just let nature take its course.”

  “Time, Major. There was no time. I needed her to find someone quickly, before…”

  “Before they found out she was a raving lunatic,” gritted Raan, not quite under his breath.

  “Please Captain,” the old man held out his hands to Raan. “We were all in a terrible hover car crash. The safety features failed and we hit a tree. The car burst into flames and her parents were killed but I managed to escape with Adrianna. He looked across at her with old, faded eyes. She was terribly burned, Captain, but I took her to my home in the hills and I rebuilt her. I made her beautiful.”

  “There are some things you can’t put back together, Professor,” said Erion quietly.

  “You are very astute, Major,” the old man nodded. “Something was broken inside. She never grew up. She stayed twelve years old, Major. A frightened little girl in a beautiful woman’s body. She needed someone special to care for her.” He pointed to Raan. “I did my research. Oh yes, I did my research. You are beautiful, Captain and Adrianna is an incurable romantic. I knew she would not be able to resist you, but you are also kind and honourable. All I had to do was to make you fall in love with her.”

  “What did you do to me?” asked Raan. “Whatever it was it was powerful.”

  “I altered her pheromones, Captain, to make you both compatible. You could no more resist her that a moth could resist a flame.”

  “But she’s a machine,” snapped Raan.

  “A hybrid, Captain, an enhanced human, not a machine. My little Adrianna is in there. You could be idyllic together. Would you not reconsider?”

  “I’m a wanted man, Professor Lear,” Raan lifted his hands in despair. “We never stop running and hiding. She would be unhappy with me. Look, we’re all on borrowed time here. I could be killed on my next mission. Hell, the way this is going, I could be killed in the next twenty minutes!”

  “Please come with us, Neall,” Adrianna still held the carbine aimed at Delta Ten’s head. “Grandfather has his own little planet. We could live happily ever after: just the three of us.” Raan caught Erion’s eye.

  “Captain, only you can do this,” whispered Erion. Raan nodded quickly and walked forward.

  “All right,” said Raan, “but only if you let my friends go.”

  “I cannot do that Raan, for they would follow us and take you back. If this ship destroyed, everyone will think we all died together. We can leave in the ship’s Planet Hopper. Our home is in this system.” Raan walked forward, his hands empty but Erion and Delta Ten could see the sonic hand pistol that he had shoved into the back of his waistband.

  “What if they promise not to say anything?”

  “I would not believe them, Raan.”

  “Twenty minutes to engine detonation,” the ship’s computer cut in sweetly. It might have been talking about the weather. Raan was within arm’s reach of her now. Her face had been torn, like Del’s, and one of her eyes was misaligned. She turned her head to show silver sinews and dark, brown, simulated flesh.

  “I can make her beautiful again, Captain,” said the professor, hopefully. “Once we are home I can make her look like anyone you wish.”

  “Adrianna,” Raan took the hand that wasn’t holding the gun and pulled her to him with his left hand. He looked down at her ravaged face and bent his lips to hers. The muzzle of the carbine wavered, just enough and Raan slipped his right hand round to the back, pulled out the gun and placed it under her chin. The shot and the professor’s scream of, “No!” echoed around the cavernous engine room at the same time. Raan let Adrianna’s body sink to the floor and stood aside for the old man. He was crying bitterly.

  “Del, check to make sure this thing is really dead,” he said out of the old man’s hearing. “Every horror vid I see like this, the robot comes back to life again at the last minute.

  “I do not think it will happen in this instance, Captain.” The front of Adrianna’s face had completely disappeared. One lone eyeball started to slide down until it stopped to hang from something stringy. There was a soggy, squelchy sort of noise and Delta Ten passed Raan a small, blood covered, box about two inches square with silver wires running from it. “I have removed her power pack. She is dead.”

  “Ten minutes to engine detonation,” the computer said again.

  “Del, fix it!” snapped Erion.

  “I cannot, Major” he answered.

  “Of course you can fix it,” Raan stared at the android, “you can fix anything.”

  “In this case, Captain, I will have extreme difficulty.”

  “Why Del?” asked Erion, getting to the point.

  “Because I am blind, Major.”

  Chapter 6

  Toola landed the Constellation on a makeshift pad on Planet Serrell the following day. It didn’t look any better than when they had visited it the year before, but at least they were in one piece this time, thought Starfire. Little gnarly plants with powder blue flowers covered most of the landscape but where the ground could be seen, it was mostly black ash mixed with pale, sandy soil. There were a few trees but they were stunted and twisted, with sparse leaves.

  Work was progressing well and a small, makeshift village seemed to have grown out of the soft, black sand. Toola cut the engines and peered out of the cockpit window to survey the busy scene below. They had landed the ship on a private pad inside the Marine compound as Micah was to be the guest of the Base Commander and his wife. They were waiting for Micah and greeted him excitedly as he made his stately way down the Constellation’s steps, closely followed by Toola and Meg. Starfire and Hal trailed behind them, the latter carrying the hard case that housed Micah’s Lyca, the Valasian stringed instrument that Micah favoured.

  Construction work was in full swing inside the actual compound, and workers, robotic machinery and heavy plant trundled about. Starfire had to stop herself from shouting out when she saw what looked like a group of natives hauling rocks out of the ground to put to one side. The last time they were on Serrell, the natives, decedents of Terrellian settlers, had captured and tortured Hal and Starfire. She caught up with Micah and pointed them out. They were hard to miss with their waist length, filthy hair, rags for clothes and Marine issue boots.

  “Oh, those,” said Aurian Commander. His name was Tabbert, ‘call me Tab’ and he and his wife were both in their early fifties. Mrs Tabbert was a plump, pleasant looking woman, and Commander Tabbert was lean, with faded copper hair, going grey at the temples. “We were a bit worried about them at first and kept the compound ray shielded. Then one day somebody accidently left a barrow outside with his overalls and his lunchbox in it. The next day, it had gone and someone had placed a bunch of those damn, blue flowers in its place. After that, we started to leave out food and trinkets and pretty soon, we had a strong, hardworking crew that worked for food scraps and boots. They’re pretty smart and you only have to show them something once. They’re no trouble, once you get used to the smell.” Starfire and Hal exchanged looks. One part of their problem had miraculously disappeared if the Natives were suddenly friendly. Perhaps this was not going to be as difficult as they thought.

  The little procession entered a portable building near the far corner of the compound, each little room made of a plastic modular block. It was much cooler there and a refreshing change from the hot, arid air of the work compound. Mrs Tabbert had tried
to make the place homely and fussed around Micah, settling him on the best couch and getting him a cold drink.

  “I guess you’d like to get set up,” said Commander Tabbert to Hal and Starfire. “The boys have made a start on a little stage for Mister Jones. If the concerts starts just before dusk, the back drop of Terrell rising will be great.” He gave them both Visitor badges to wear. “The site hut and office block is in between towers one and two. Go in there and ask for Captain Reddy. He’ll look after you.”

  “We’ll make a start, then,” muttered Hal, and he and Starfire left the little house.

  “Huh, boys!” muttered Starfire, looking at the workers. “He makes it sound like fun.” They made sure to walk along the designated footpaths that skirted the inside fence of the compound. Several towers ringed the perimeter, each with at least two Marines, armed with long range laser rifles. More Marines walked about, wearing shoulder slung carbines and kept a watchful eye on the workers. It occurred to Hal and Starfire at the same time that they weren’t workers. They were all wearing prison uniforms.

  Starfire and Hal found Captain Reddy, sitting in a deck chair outside the main office buildings. They too, were constructed of the interlocking cubes and consisted of quarters for the men, offices and a couple of cells. He was a plump, smiling Aurian in his late thirties and looked like an office worker rather than a Marine. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem to mind the fact that they were Terrellians, probably because of his constant dealings with the natives, who were basically Terrellian underneath all the filth. He waved them inside and handed them both a cold beer from his food replicator.

  “Anything you need, just let me know,” he said. “I’ve given the boys the evening off to watch the concert.” He caught Starfire’s surprised expression. “Look, we’re not the Galactic Police you know. We’re Marines. None of us want to be here, playing nursemaid to a bunch of prisoners, but they wouldn’t be treated so well by the Police.” He wandered to the only window and stared out across the compound. “We do what we can. The prisoners work in the early morning and the evening. It’s too hot any other time and it’s well below freezing at night.” He took a hefty swig of his beer. “Most of these guys shouldn’t be in prison. Anyone with construction experience is chosen and if they refuse, they’re arrested on trumped up charges and brought here to put up the fraggin’ building anyway. Most of the guys from the outer sectors have been press ganged, for frag’s sake!

 

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