Ming sat and belted himself into his flight seat next to the bridge’s cargo handling stations. Zeke continued to stand and monitor the upper carriage bay. After a moment, he said, “The CLF beat boat has departed Candy Lady,” then took his seat next to Ming.
“Confirm they’ve disengaged F.S.-L.S. override?” Duffy asked.
“Confirmed,” Eli answered. “We have full control.”
“What course and speed, ma’am?” Cassy asked.
Duffy paused to watch Havlock’s beat boat glide toward Protector. A part of her remained concerned about the Trans-Holo malfunction Ariel reported earlier. She did not want to smear the Colonel’s personal F-9350 all over the universal hologram arrays, but she also knew time was short.
“Set DynaFusion propulsion for full-speed ahead,” Duffy ordered.
Cassy entered the engine settings and Ariel confirmed them from the drive deck.
“Course?” Cassy asked.
“There’s a hauler not too far from here who needs our help,” Duffy replied. “Set course for the L4 Trojans, the asteroids that crown Jupiter’s Edge.”
***
In the bow of Trident, Alice watched the beater cruise from toward Protector. Detectant Perez walked forward and stopped next to her. Candy Lady darted away at a full A.U. per hour, disappearing into the darkness ahead.
“Telemetry from the transport is affirmative, ma’am,” the communications officer reported.
“Thank you,” Perez said. She turned to Alice and added, “They will take us to their leader. And our colleagues aboard Protector are ready to take Havlock into custody.”
“I just hope Maxo is okay,” Alice replied.
At that moment, he was slumped in a detention cell aboard Havlock’s beater. The air temperature was fine, but he was sweating. A million thoughts raced through his head. They raised his pulse rate and tied his stomach in knots. He closed his eyes, inhaled a deep breath, and took a full fifteen seconds to exhale. Then, just as he began to feel the calm, he heard the muffled sound of a young man’s voice.
“Hello.”
Maxo opened an eye and peered out of the laser-proof pane lining the front of his cell.
“Push that button to your right, the green one,” Maxo said. “We’ll be able to hear each other.”
“How does that sound now?”
“Perfect.” Maxo nodded and opened his other eye. “Just perfect, Leo.”
“Great,” Leo replied. Kneeling in front of Maxo’s cell, he glanced around the detention compartment, then said, “I bet you’re wondering how I got here.”
“That I can figure out. I am a cop after all.” Maxo peered toward the stern. “What I’d like to know is why you got here and how you’re planning on getting out without Havlock finding you first.”
“I’ll hide and then wait for the other cops to arrest him, you know, according to your plan.” Leo folded his arms.
“My plan didn’t include—”
“Me.” Frowning, Leo said, “But that’s okay. I’m only a bartender, I know. I just wanted to get a closer look at the beater. I didn’t mean to end up a stowaway.”
“Okay, I get it.” Maxo stood and felt the sim-grav shift. “We’re getting ready to dock. You have about thirty seconds to hide. Best place is the exer-pod, back up that way.” Maxo pointed to the next bay aft. “Hop in, close the hatch, and wait there until I come back for you.”
“Roger that, detectant!” Leo saluted and scurried away.
A moment after the beater settled into the docking bay, a whistling Englishman approached the detention compartment. In one hand, he held Maxo’s pistol and compu-pad. In the other, his own sidearm, which he pointed at his captive.
“Welcome aboard Protector, Magnaveer,” Havlock said. “We will disembark this meager beat boat and I will have my jailers throw you in the brig.”
The cell’s front panel slid open. Havlock waved his pistol at Maxo and ordered him to move out.
“Midship’s port exit ramp?” Maxo asked.
“Yes, I assume you know the way.”
They headed up to the next level of the service deck, toward the galley. Just after passing a bulkhead separating the upper and lower service decks, they exited through an open hatch and walked down a ramp to a metal gantry in Protector’s docking bay.
At the base of the ramp, they were greeted by two CLF officers and a tech corps jailer. Havlock handed the jailer Maxo’s pistol and compu-pad. “Take these,” Havlock snorted, “and this.” He shoved Maxo toward the jailer, a young Japanese woman named Dinah.
While Havlock holstered his weapon and straightened his cape and tunic, the two officers stepped forward and the jailer released Maxo’s handcuffs.
“Oh no, no, no,” Havlock said, staring at Dinah. “He is to be restrained at all times. Do you understand?”
One of the officers, a scowling, muscular Polynesian named Kekoa, said, “Captain Havlock, your cooperation is kindly appreciated.” His deep voice meant business and echoed off the docking bay’s bulkheads.
“And why, exactly, is that?” Havlock asked. “You need to be telling that to your prisoner!”
Kekoa nodded. “Yes, I am.”
Dinah handed Maxo his pistol, which he then pointed at the squad captain.
“Has everyone gone mad?” Havlock yelled. “This man is pointing a gun at me!”
“Listen, Shin,” Maxo said, “I can explain.” He waved Dinah toward Havlock and asked her to hand him the compu-pad. She did, then backed away.
“If you pry open that pad with your fine fingernails,” Maxo explained, “you’ll find something interesting.”
For a moment, Havlock was puzzled by the compu-pad. He used one every day but never opened it to expose the innards. He slid a tab on the side, then pressed. The pad popped apart. He held its two halves, one in each hand, and displayed them for all to see.
“The pad is empty,” Havlock said. He took a step back and turned so his side faced toward the officers. “So?”
“I’m pleased to say,” Maxo replied, “the pad’s electronics have been expertly installed within Candy Lady’s communication system and are tracking and transmitting the ship’s location as it heads toward Porto Blago.”
“How interesting,” Havlock said, taking another step backwards up the ramp leading to the beat boat. He tossed the compu-pad pieces over his shoulder.
“Yes, I agree.” Maxo smiled. “Your girlfriend is leading us right to the Colonel.”
“You need to back down, detectant!” Havlock pulled his cape around his body from the side facing the officers and jailer. “You’ll lose that tracking the moment she enters hyper-weave.”
“Of course,” Maxo said, “but I have a feeling her Trans-Holo drive will malfunction, so she won’t be able to enter hyper-weave.”
Havlock’s eyes darted from the officers to Maxo, then to the jailer and back.
“You might say,” Maxo added, “she has fallen into a spider’s web and can’t break free, just like you, Shin.”
“You have no idea what you’ve done,” Havlock murmured, then leaned into a quick draw of his sidearm. He fired off a laser blast at Maxo but missed. Scrambling backwards up the ramp, he hid more of his body and face behind his cape.
“Give it up, Havlock!” Maxo yelled.
The two officers aimed their pistols and knelt on the gantry. Dinah, who was unarmed, dashed behind a control station near a hatch that led to Protector’s interior.
“Halt, or we will shoot!” Officer Kekoa bellowed.
“Piss off!”
The officers shot several rounds, all of which hit the ramp. One ricocheted and pelted Kekoa’s chest armor.
Havlock ducked and returned fire. Hiding behind his cape threw off his aim. All his shots were high, striking the bulkhead above and behind Dinah.
Maxo aimed and fired four rounds from his pistol. They hit the cape right around where Havlock’s hidden torso was, except he didn’t keel over. Instead, each round bounced off the c
ape.
One of the bolts hit Kekoa’s right arm. “I shoot with my left, you tart!” he yelled.
Two rounds struck the gantry alongside Maxo’s right boot, and the fourth darted toward the docking bay’s upper deck.
“Spread out!” Maxo yelled. “I’m going after him.” He dashed up the ramp right into two blasts from Havlock, who then scampered into the beat boat and closed the midship’s port hatch. Once again, the blasts missed their target.
Feeling vulnerable out in the open, Maxo dashed toward Dinah and signaled the officers to join them behind the control station.
“What the devil kind of cape is that?” Dinah asked.
“Not CLF issue, that’s for sure,” Kekoa replied.
As Maxo looked at his colleagues, he tried to assess the situation. “This did not go as I’d hoped,” he said. “Are you okay, Kekoa?”
“I’ll be fine, but I think Jackson here shit his ‘loons.” He pointed at the other officer and laughed.
“Attention on deck, you fools,” Havlock announced through the beater’s external speakers. “I am taking my leave of you and will blast this Caprice to Hell from the inside out if you don’t activate the airlock and allow me to depart.”
“Sir,” Jackson said, “we’re a bit outgunned, wouldn’t you say?”
“Do you think he’s serious about his threat?” Dinah asked.
“You know,” Kekoa said, “I’m starting to feel woozy. Maybe that laser hit is more serious…” He then passed out and collapsed into Jackson’s arms.
“You have ten seconds to decide, Maxo,” Havlock said.
“I don’t need ten seconds, you ass,” Maxo murmured. “We’re leaving, now!” he ordered. “Lead the way, Dinah. Jackson, I’ll grab half of Kekoa, and you grab the other half.”
Dinah ran out the hatch and Jackson stood, holding Kekoa under the hefty Polynesian’s arms. Maxo hit a sequence of buttons on the control station’s countertop panel.
“Warning,” a booming, digitized voice said, “airlock activated, decompression imminent, exit immediately.”
“Don’t need to tell us twice,” Maxo said. He knelt, grabbed Kekoa’s boots, and stood. “Let’s move Jackson!”
They hobbled out the hatch and closed it behind them. Medics wheeled Officer Kekoa to Protector’s sick bay while Maxo peered through a porthole on the docking bay’s hatch.
As he watched Havlock’s beater drop from the Caprice’s belly and flee into hyper-weave, Maxo whispered, “We’ll come get you, Leo. You have my word.”
Chapter 9
Where Are You Taking That Food Barge?
Anchored near Porto Blago, La Corona launched a flight of twelve Comet interceptors. They circled the dreadnought and tipped their delta-shaped wings in a salute as they zipped past the bow on their way to rendezvous with the food barge. With a spectacular view of the flyby from the bridge, D’Rump and Schilling waved at the passing craft to the sound of recorded applause, shouts, and triumphal music.
“How long before the barge plummets into Jupiter?” D’Rump asked.
“In just a few hours, Dear Leader.” Schilling said. “We attached additional remote-controlled DynaFusion thrusters to it, to give it some excellent acceleration once it is clear of these L4 Trojans.”
“I see,” D’Rump murmured.
“Several of our Comets,” Schilling added, “are equipped with transponders that mimic CLF beat boats. It will implicate them in the disappearance of the barge.”
“As part of a pathetic attempt to frame me.”
“Yes, sir.” Schilling fondled his holstered laser pistol. “They will be accused of hijacking the barge during your efforts to deliver it to Mars. In the scuffle, they lose control of the barge, and it is presumed lost.”
“Yesss,” D’Rump hissed.
“By early tomorrow morning, the CLF and Solis et Novem will be all but destroyed. The whole solar system will be up in arms against them.”
“Ahh, yes. I like it, Millie.” D’Rump struggled against corpulence to clasp his hands behind his back, so he surrendered and let them dangle alongside his fluttering cravat. “And you are sure there’s no CLF in the area?”
“Yes, sir,” Schilling replied. “Their Patrol Zone David ships are, as always, tied up amongst the Jovian moons, and everyone in Charlie space is picking up bodies and debris from Themis.”
“Or on their way back to the Moon,” D’Rump said. “That’s according to Spider.”
“Excellent. He’s a good man, that Spider.”
Together, D’Rump and Schilling laughed, then smiled their way to dinner in the Colonel’s private dining parlor.
***
For at least two hours, Bergeron scouted the Trojan L5 asteroids, those following in Jupiter’s orbit. Other than encountering a legitimate mining team and plenty of space rocks, extra-small to extra-large, she found nothing else to indicate the presence of a pirate’s secret base. She exited the asteroid field, pointed her beat boat toward the L4s, and set destination coordinates in the Trans-Holo drive.
“One-one-Charlie to one-two-David,” Bergeron called out on the radio to the Caprice at Jupiter commanded by Elana Turev. “Enroute to L4 Trojans via hyper-weave. Have a good evening.”
“Roger, one-one-Charlie,” Striker’s communication officer replied. “You do the same.”
The Trans-Holo converters rattled the beater as they injected it into hyper-weave. Through the flight deck’s bow-facing windows, Bergeron watch the endless darkness of space turn into a cobalt-blue stream winding through spiraling ribbons of color, alternating between orange, turquoise, lime, and lavender—the palette used aboard Candy Lady’s concourse deck.
The research and discoveries that unveiled the secret life of the universe as a two-dimensional plane generating a three-dimensional holographic reality, stunned many Earthlings. In the end, distraction, acceptance, and complacency prevailed, followed by eagerness and excitement as technology unlocked new ways to travel. Any existential concerns proved frail next to the capability to go really, really fast.
A chime from Bergeron’s control panel indicated an imminent drop out of hyper-weave. She watched her colorful view dissolve into what passed for normal space—billions of distant stars surrounded by darkness.
She slowed the beater to one-half patrol speed and noticed her sensory scopes showed a growing cluster of yellow blips ahead, which her computer labeled as L4 Trojans. She dimmed the cabin lights and put on a set of goggles, then set a serpentine course toward the asteroids.
Bergeron was farther from home than ever but felt relaxed and focused. Every few minutes, she switched scans to her rear flank just to double check for anything that might have slipped past.
In the flight seat next to her was a sippy mug of tea and a half sandwich of similo turkey on rye, which she planned to enjoy once she waded into the actual L4 field.
“Not long now, eh,” she said, then noticed some of the finer returns on the scopes jostled out of place. More of them bobbed and jumped, then began to swirl around one of the larger asteroids on the display. Within several minutes, the large asteroid looked as if it had attracted a swarm of yellow gnats, which buzzed along with it while it drifted outward and away from the other Trojans.
Although these sensory images represented objects that were two-hundred-thousand kilometers away, Bergeron pushed her googles onto her forehead to look out the flight deck’s windows with her own eyes. She slowed the beater to one-quarter patrol speed and gazed toward the infinite horizon ahead.
“Okay, darling, what does your gut tell you?” Bergeron asked herself. “Huh, that’s what I’m thinking too.”
She put her goggles back on and noticed the big asteroid protruded half its length out from the L4 field. It had attracted more gnats and two of the smaller returns had jumped out ahead of it. They then turned from yellow to red.
Bergeron raised the beater’s shields, accelerated to full-patrol speed, and activated the bow’s red and blue flashing lights.
When the computer labeled the small red returns on the scopes as ComXX, for unidentified Comets, she cheered and hollered, “The Mountie always gets her man!”
***
Maxo stood on the bridge of Protector next to what had been Havlock’s flight seat. He spoke ship-to-ship with Acting Captain Freida Perez, who remained aboard Trident, which was tracking Candy Lady.
“Now,” Perez said, “without Bergeron, you are in command of Protector, mi amigo.”
“I understand, Captain,” Maxo said. “I’ll do my best.”
“We’ll continue to follow Duffy at half-ahead. I don’t want to get too close and tip her off.” Perez explained. “Once we know her destination, we’ll hyper-weave to it. And I’ve sent Sentry II and Valiant to Mars to help our comrades at Themis. They can rejoin us, if needed. Until then, it’s just Trident and Protector.”
“Guardian of truth and justice in the vast ocean of space and,” Maxo replied, “the sword and shield of law and order!”
“Has a ring to it!” Perez exclaimed. “And as far as Havlock is concerned, we can’t locate him until he drops out of hyper-weave for at least a few minutes. Unless he tries to communicate.”
“Roger that,” Maxo said. “Hard to know for sure, but if I had to guess, he’ll stay silent and hopscotch his way toward the Colonel. To be honest, I just want to make sure we rescue Leo. I feel responsible for him.”
“Let’s hope he knows to stay in hiding. That’ll keep him out of trouble.”
“Please give my best to Alice,” Maxo said, watching a tech corps steward sanitize Havlock’s flight seat and console. “I look forward to seeing her soon.”
“Will do,” Perez replied. “Trident over and out.”
“All yours, sir,” the steward said, pointing to the seat. “And this is yours too. It’s a replacement badge, seeing as your other one is with Captain Hemlock, heh heh.” He handed over the badge.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
Maxo dismissed the steward and gazed around the bridge at the CLF officers and tech corps staff on duty at their respective stations. The scene was very different from what he’d experienced for years aboard a beater with Alice. He missed her, as well as the Digis on Candy Lady.
Showdown at Jupiter's Edge: A Maxo Magnaveer Adventure Page 10
