All heads swiveled toward Maxo, who was making another check of his compu-pad for any messages from the CLF.
“Hey,” Duffy barked, “Captain Magnaveer, what course and speed?”
“One moment, please,” Maxo said. He then transmitted a brief update to CLF headquarters. It read, “Aboard commandeered transport Candy Lady. In exigent pursuit of D’Rump. Will send word upon his capture. One-eleven-Adam enroute to Moon.”
Before Maxo set aside his compu-pad, he opened the transcript of Never Better and scrolled to the section on teamwork. “Hmmm, yes, that’s it,” he mumbled. “‘Lead from behind,’” he quoted from his dictation, “and you’ll be never better.”
“Course and speed, sir?” Cassy asked again.
Maxo looked up at the maps projected above Peter and Cassy. Based on the last known position of the barge, he assumed D’Rump chose to head into Charlie space and beyond. Many surmised Porto Blago was within the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, but no one had yet found it there or, for that matter, anywhere.
“Eli,” Maxo said, looking down and to his left toward the communications consoles, “if you were the Colonel, where would you hide a one-million-ton barge?”
“Ah,” Eli responded, “I’ve been giving that some thought, actually.” He paused to sip a simulated cup of coffee, one that was emitting a very real and rich aroma. “Somewhere near a spot he could easily dispose of it without a trace.”
Glancing again at the overhead maps, Maxo said, “That’s an interesting theory.”
“Thank you, but I have to credit Leo and Ariel for helping me come up with it.” Eli tapped one of his screens, activating an intercom, and said, “Leo, Ariel, can you hear us?”
From down on the drive deck, both Leo and Ariel replied in the affirmative.
“We were just discussing the Colonel’s possible plans,” Maxo said. “Do you believe he may dispose of the food?”
“That’s right,” Ariel said. “Eli thinks that’s his plan because we all agreed his gambit won’t work.”
“You believe that too, Leo?” Maxo asked.
“At first, I was thinking Solis would give in to him,” Leo said, “but I’ve changed my mind. Then I could see he would never give up his only leverage—the food barge.”
“He’s pure evil,” Ariel added. “When he doesn’t get what he wants, he’ll destroy the food but find a way to blame it on Solis, the CLF, or both. For that to work, though, the barge has to be disposed of without a trace.”
“What if he’s keeping it close to Mars?” Peter asked. “You know, in case he does get his way? Then he can swoop in and feed all those hungry Martians before anyone can stop him.”
“And he will!” Duffy bellowed. “He loves them and just wants to make life better for everyone.”
“He better hurry,” Zeke shouted from one of the cargo control stations, “I could go at any time!”
As brief laughter subsided, Maxo said, “So, he could be near Mars or somewhere else to dispose of the food without a trace.”
“The Sun could work,” Peter said.
“Yeah, but the inner solar system is just like Nadine’s Pond, the small town in Mexas I grew up in,” Cassy said. “Everyone knows everybody else and knows all your business too. Be hard to keep that barge a secret around here.”
“Planet Nine?” Leo suggested.
“Too rocky,” Peter said. “Nowhere to hide it there. Plus, it’s really far. They’d detect anything enroute before it arrived.”
Cassy changed her overhead map to show the outer solar system. Gazing up at the colorful array of gas giants, she gasped.
“Cassy,” Maxo said, “are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
She nodded and watched digitized smoke from Peter’s simulated cigarette encircle Jupiter.
“Sir,” Eli said, pushing on a pair of thick eyeglasses, “the Quantum operating system’s sensory fields collapse in hyper-weave, so if you wish to have search and detect capabilities during transit, we will have to stick with DynaFusion propulsion only.”
“Thank you, Eli,” Maxo replied. “Yes, I want to see and hear the whole way.” Leaning on the platform’s railing, Maxo faced Peter, Duffy, and Cassy then said, “Set course for Daedalus in the asteroid belt.”
“Aye, sir,” Cassy said.
“If either of our theories is correct, that should be a good jumping off point to acquire the Colonel,” Maxo said. “Peter, how fast can Candy Lady move?”
“She’s good for a full A.U. per—”
“Hold up,” Duffy said. “A full A.U. per hour only after we’ve clocked 350 A.U.s. We’re only at 190. Please keep us to no more than three-quarter speed.”
“Aye,” Peter said.
“Make three-quarter speed, then,” Maxo said. “Let’s go catch us a pirate.”
Chapter 5
Getting Ahead In Life
Comets made for inexpensive and effective fast-attack interceptors. Easy to fly, twenty meters long and delta-shaped, they were much smaller and more maneuverable than CLF beaters. However, they lacked armor and fielded just two plasma cannons while a beat boat wielded six plasma cannons, two pellet launchers, and four missile bays.
This is not to say they could not carry nuclear weapons disguised as scientific instruments within their payload compartments. In fact, they could, and Schilling watched two Comets equipped with these bombs depart from La Corona’s flight deck. He waved for a moment, wishing them well, knowing the Comets and their pilots, who were unaware the probes packed two-megaton punches, would not return.
“Hey there, Helga,” Toddy, the pilot of the lead Comet, said, “pull on up to my three o’clock and get in position for a full sixty-second burn.”
“Ja ja,” Helga said.
“Now remember,” Toddy added, “we carry a wicked big responsibility on our shoulders.”
“Indeed!” Helga bellowed into her helmet’s microphone. “I am relieved our talents have finally been recognized.”
“Yup, I was beginning to think we’d be trapped in that lab forever. Great to do some actual field work.”
“Ja ja,” Helga said, waving to Toddy from the cramped cockpit of her Comet. “I am now in position for the burn.”
Toddy waved back. “Now, just to review, this sixty-second burn will put us on track to coast past Ceres where we activate our payloads.”
“Then we let science do its work.”
“Right,” Toddy said. “The data and samples we collect today will advance our knowledge of gravitational shifts and whether they are caused by humans and our extreme excavation of the asteroid belt.”
“So good of the Colonel to agree to this,” Helga said. “I was beginning to think the science division was just for show.”
Toddy chuckled. “Not even he can change the laws of science. Am I right or what?”
“You are so right, my friend,” Helga responded. “And they said I’d regret working for the D’Rump organization!”
“I heard that too, yet here we are about to make history!”
***
Aboard Protector, Detectant Nadonna Bergeron waited on the bridge for Captain Shineer Havlock. He had spent most of their shift alone in his quarters while Protector and Sentry II retraced Gravy Boat’s course from Earth toward Charlie space. Each moment of this inane investigation wasted valuable time and raised Bergeron’s blood pressure a notch or two. As a former CLF hockey team champion, Bergeron was built like a fortress yet moved with the grace of a ballerina, and she had little patience for inaction.
“Ma’am, we are getting a signal from outpost two-niner-David,” the communications Digi said. Named Yuri, he was bald, around 30 years old, and wore thick, gray sweater and black pantaloons, the uniform of the CLF’s technical corps.
“The asteroid belt, eh?” Bergeron asked. “Why are they calling us?”
“Correction, detectant,” Yuri said, “it is not a ship-to-ship signal. It is a non-emergency all-call.”
Bergeron st
epped toward Yuri’s console, then said, “What are they saying?”
“They have detected two Comets approaching Ceres,” Yuri explained. “Weapons are cold, and transponders are sending out science mission signatures.”
Another technical corps crew member, in this case the human co-pilot named Verona, anticipated Bergeron’s next question and scrolled through Ceres data on her heads-up display. “Ceres is nothing but a hollowed-out rock these days, detectant,” Verona said. “The mines were abandoned in 2235.”
“Thanks, Vee,” Bergeron said. “Let’s stay on task, eh. We’ll let David patrols handle this. Yuri, please send an acknowledgement, then confirm that patrol one-two-David received the—”
“Oh no, no, no,” Havlock proclaimed, swooping onto the bridge with a new royal-blue cape fluttering behind him. “I’ve already spoken to the captain of one-two-David and assured her we can send Charger to investigate. This is our bloody case, is it not? Who else but the Colonel deploys Comets?”
A scented cloud of Havlock’s cologne, a woodsy blend of musk and oak, enveloped the bridge. Verona coughed while Yuri offered up a simulated sneeze.
“Bless you, Yuri,” Bergeron said. She cleared her throat, turned toward Havlock, and added, “Aye, sir.”
“And tell Charger,” Havlock said, “they are to take possession of those Comets and arrest the pilots forthwith. We’ll rendezvous with them at our Martian substation then commence interrogations. Sentry II and Valiant will join us.”
“Aye, sir,” Bergeron responded.
Havlock walked over to his flight seat and sat down. “And just one more thing, detectant,” Havlock said, flicking the underside of his moustache with his thumb. “Be a good girl and take one of our beaters and hyper-weave on over to the Moon. You’re needed aboard Gallant to help them with evidence processing.”
Bergeron held her breath and looked out through the Caprice’s main forward windows toward the darkness of Charlie space. An involuntary vision of smacking Havlock with a hockey stick popped into her head, followed by another one showing his caped, lifeless body floating among chunks of rocky asteroids.
Breathing again and smirking, Bergeron turned her frustration into defiance. “Aye, sir,” she said, then exited the bridge and dropped down to the hanger bay in the belly of Protector to board a beat boat. She had no plans to hyper-weave to the Moon to join Gallant. Instead, insubordination set her journey deep into Charlie space and beyond. If necessary, all the way to Jupiter’s Edge.
***
Standing on the bridge’s elevated console platform, Maxo took a moment to check his compu-pad and saw there were still no messages from headquarters about the Colonel. He transmitted a brief update to the CLF about progress toward Daedalus and requested any information on Spider, someone who appeared to have no record on file.
“Permission to come aboard, Captain Magnaveer?” Zeke said, gesturing at the elevated platform.
Looking down at Zeke, Maxo laughed. “Yes, please,” he said, “and I’m hardly a captain, though I do so want to be. I hope to be promoted soon.” He put away his compu-pad.
“Well,” Zeke said, “we should all have aspirations. I aspire to retire.” Smiling, Zeke added, “That rhymes nicely. ‘I aspire to retire.’ Should turn that into a song before it’s too late.”
Maxo removed his sunglasses and put them into a pocket on his tunic. He gazed at the Digi’s wrinkled face, then noticed one of Zeke’s eyes appeared cloudy, like he had a cataract. “Oh, I’m sure you have a long life ahead of you,” Maxo said, “certainly long enough to write a song!”
While Zeke’s smile faded, he looked at the various console panels on the platform. “As a Digi, I could have told you without looking that your Release button was in the red.” He pointed to the display Maxo scrolled to earlier. “If I wanted to, I could disappear here and reappear over there,” Zeke explained, pointing to the communications post, “and float over Eli’s head.”
“I know,” Maxo said, “and while that would be something to see, I know that you can’t do that. Digi programming is—”
“Designed to limit our capabilities, so that we fit in. So that we don’t ‘rock the boat,’ as they used to say.” Zeke leaned on the railing behind him, leading Maxo to increase his slouch and to take a step toward Zeke. “We also have death algorithms,” Zeke continued. “Wouldn’t want to live forever, after all. So, I really could go at any time. That’s why they have Ming working with me.” Zeke looked at Ming and waved. Ming reciprocated but seemed puzzled.
“So, where I’m confused,” Maxo said, “is why you appear…elderly? The first mainstreamed Digis were activated less than sixty years ago.”
“Ah,” Zeke replied, nodding, “and I came along a short time after that.”
“So, at this point you should only be at most a mid-lifer, or thereabouts.”
“Normally, yes. But I was developed to accelerate Digi assimilation among older humans who needed our innate competence and reliability. They don’t do that anymore. Ethics and what not. Taking away half of a Digi’s life is now forbidden. But for me, it just means I’m trying to squeeze the most out of what I got. While I aspire to retire, I really just want to expire doing what I love.”
“And what is that?” Maxo asked.
“Flying in outer space!”
“In that case, I’m honored to have you aboard.”
Zeke nodded, then his face took on a serious expression. “I appreciate that,” he said, lowering his voice, “but forcing us to crew this ship on such a dangerous mission, taking us, basically, against our will, is reckless.”
Maxo stepped back and searched for something to say.
“It’s highly dangerous,” Zeke added, “for us and for you.”
“I understand that,” Maxo said.
“Do you?” Zeke asked. “I don’t think you do because none of this makes any sense. Impounding us, arresting us, those things make sense, but seizing this ship and her crew? That’s the action of someone who is desperate and…hate to say it, deranged!”
After taking a deep breath and exhaling through his pursed lips, Maxo spoke his next words as if their slow enunciation bled off dangerous pressure building in his head and heart. “Need I remind you, there are millions of Martians who are in serious danger of starving to death.” Maxo paused to take another deep breath. “I haven’t worked so hard and sacrificed so much during my career just to stand by while this unprecedented crime unfolds. If I do, I will never—”
“What? Never get promoted to captain?” Zeke asked.
Maxo staggered another step away from Zeke and said, “Are you questioning my motives?”
“Yes!” Zeke stated, almost shouting. “And I wish you would too because right now, you’re acting no better than that pirate, D’Rump!”
***
Alice’s flight from Mercury to the Moon neared its end as she entered a flight path around Mare Cognitum for a final approach to the docks of CLF’s First Precinct.
“Patrol one-eleven-Adam,” she said into the boat’s laser-based comm system, “requesting permission to dock at platform one-seven-seven.”
“Good afternoon, one-eleven-Adam,” the CLF controller responded. “You have clearance. Proceed with docking. Deck is clear, except for an inbound Caprice at mark one-seven-two. Forty seconds out.”
“Roger,” Alice said. She glanced out the windows and watched the dock disappear under the bow of the beater. As she tapped the thrusters to bring her into vertical alignment with the dock’s landing pad, Alice’s fingers grew cold, and her heart thumped a bit faster. During the easy descent to the pad below, she began to wonder what she might do next if her time with the CLF did come to an end. She had already gathered her personal belongings from the beat boat—packets of jerky and hot sauce, toiletries, uniforms, and the statue of Ganesh she kept with her on the flight deck—and stuffed them into a CLF Academy shoulder bag.
“Contact lights are solid,” Alice said.
“Roger, o
ne-eleven.” the controller replied. “By the way…”
Shutting down the boat’s DynaFusion cores and various flight systems, Alice waited for something to follow. With each second of the controller’s silence, Alice’s eyes grew wider. She unbuckled herself from the flight seat and folded her arms.
Forcing out a response, Alice said, “Yes? One-eleven standing by.” She winced and waited for the controller to finish his statement.
“Sorry, one-eleven, thought I was going to sneeze,” the controller said. “By the way, nice landing. Best I’ve seen all day.”
Alice bowed her head. “Thank you. Glad you liked it. One-eleven out.” She stood and slung her bag over her shoulder, then dropped down from the flight deck and exited the beat boat through its lower airlock. Once inside the terminal, a domed structure with eight corridors stretching outward to dock platforms, Alice paused and awaited the escort she expected would take her to the precinct’s offices. Above, through transparent ceiling panels, she saw Earth in the distance and caught a whiff of cafeteria food, which made her stomach grumble. She watched the inbound Caprice pass overhead and land nearby. She thought its nameplate read Trident, but it also could have been Titan.
With no sign of an escort headed her way, Alice pulled out her compu-pad to check for any new messages or instructions, but there were none. She sat down on a royal-blue sofa and began to scroll through CLF regulations related to internal investigations, but her concentration was interrupted by brief, raucous laughter. It came from a few patrol officers and a couple of tech corps staff entering the terminal from the dock where the Caprice landed. Behind them was a detectant who jogged toward Alice.
“Officer Mirza,” the detectant shouted and waved her hands, then accelerated her stride.
Alice set her compu-pad aside and rose to stand at attention. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, then began to remove her badge.
“Oh, I’m glad I caught you,” the detectant said.
Caught? Alice thought. If you say so, but it wasn’t much of a pursuit.
Showdown at Jupiter's Edge: A Maxo Magnaveer Adventure Page 5
