Retribution (The Long Haul Book 2)

by Geoff North

  “Never stop trying, Sully.” Sulafat looked over and saw Sheratan squeezed up next to Hadar. “You are the captain of Ambition, and your crew needs you.”

  “No, you were never here… you were just an image someone else put inside my head.”

  “Captain?” Hadar asked. “Did you say something?”

  Sheratan wasn’t there. The red alarm lights continued to flash. The ship continued to shake, her hull started to groan. Sulafat leaned back into his seat and grabbed onto the armrests. “Prepare for crash-landing, gentlemen.”

  Wez was desperately pushing buttons and throwing switches all around him. One amber-colored toggle turned blue. A section of outer plating in front of them pulled away revealing a forward cabin window. Ahead was a gargantuan bank of clouds with columns of purple and green swirling beneath it. Lightning flashed throughout the massive cell, and thunder rumbled, rattling the transport ship harder as it plunged into the very heart of it.

  The ship started to roll. Sulafat heard metal begin to tear. Smoke filled the cabin.

  “There!” Tor gasped. “I see the surface!” He pointed to a small section at the lower edge of the window. A sharp greenish-blue ridge of what may have been rock or ice appeared.

  Sulafat watched it grow. Ice, he thought. Most definitely ice.

  The ship smashed into it.

  Chapter 27

  Children of all ages clutched at parents’ hands worriedly. They asked hundreds of questions, thousands. What was this all about? Why did they have to leave their homes? Where were they going? The mothers and fathers did their best to comfort the children and provide answers. We’re going to meet new people in a new place. We have to leave our homes for a little while, but we’ll come back. Most of the parents couldn’t answer the last question. All they had ever known was Ambition.

  Other adults—the majority without children—complained, swore out, demanding to know how long this would take, and when they could return to their homes and workplaces. The lines moved on orderly enough, however, as Ambition’s thousands crowded into fighter garage 2, and took their places in the shuttles.

  The baby cried out, her wails echoed throughout the cavernous bay, louder than all the rest. Hail squeezed Nova to his chest and kissed the top of her head. “It’s okay, baby girl,” he soothed. “Mommy and Daddy are with you. We’ll always be with you.”

  Kella didn’t look at their daughter. She was too busy watching the long line ahead of them slowly get shorter. “This is ridiculous… an insult.”

  “They’re moving everyone along as fast they can,” Hail said.

  “No, not that. We shouldn’t be here at all. We should be part of the command team leading this exodus. After all we went through and did for them on Oread. I still can’t believe they never promoted us to officers after that.”

  Hail bounced Nova gently in his arms, quieting the baby further. “We’ve been through this a dozen times before, Kella. They offered us the promotions, remember? We turned them down when we knew we were going to be a family.”

  Kella snorted, but finally looked at her husband. The hard expression suddenly softened when she saw her daughter’s red, wet face. She reached for Nova and whispered. “Here, give her to me.”

  “Are you going to be okay? Would you like to see the doctor again when this is all over?”

  She shook her head. “No more Gulum, no more pills. I never should’ve had to be treated for a mild case of postpartum. There are people with bigger problems.” She looked up the line again, and to the even longer queue of Ambition crew members next to them. “I should be helping them.”

  “Your problems are my problems,” he said. “And Nova’s. We need you more than ever.”

  “I’m here, Hail. I won’t leave either one of you. I’ll go see Gulum eventually, all right?” She smiled at him, and Hail smiled back. Her eyes wandered back down the line. She watched the shuttles fill a hundred meters ahead. She looked up, beyond the ships, to the observation deck window four levels above. Captain Drac was there, watching the evacuation unfold. Vin Vir was next to him, and Nash. Two of Retribution’s command officers were there as well.

  Kella longed to stand with them.

  ***

  Captain Drac watched three more shuttles slip through the atmospheric shield at the far end of the bay. “It’s going faster than I thought it would.”

  “Preparations for the final evacuation of Ambition’s crew had already been initialized during the Pegan encounter, Captain,” Nash said. “We were prepared for a hasty departure. The addition of Retribution’s shuttles has sped the process up even more.”

  “How much longer?” Commander Edmund asked.

  The robot gave him the information immediately. “Two thousand eight hundred twelve persons have already arrived aboard Retribution. Complete personnel transfer will occur in three hours thirty minutes. Food, medical, and environmental supplies will require an additional eight hours forty-five minutes to transport.”

  “Half a day,” he muttered. “Impressive.” He went to a communication tower behind him and opened a line to the ship’s propulsion section. “Lt. Kelly, how much longer until you’re done down there?”

  “We finished stripping Ambition of all the parts we need more than half an hour ago, Commander. I’m just rounding up the rest of our people and heading back to Retribution. It won’t take long to make repairs once we’re back there. Gacrux and his brother have offered their assistance.” There was a pause. “They’re not exactly enthusiastic about it, but with the added help, we should be running at full power in under ten hours.”

  “Ambition’s crew is honorable… better than we deserve.” He looked back at Drac and Vir, still standing at the window. Penelope Strong was standing beside Nash. SIC Barret had transferred back to Retribution to oversee the influx of new passengers. That only left one of Edmund’s people unaccounted for. He spoke back into the communication tower. “Have you seen Gertsen lately?”

  “Last I heard he was helping move Ambition’s criminal population,” Kelly replied. “Knowing Bennoit’s fascination with history, he’s probably got himself lost wandering around.”

  “I wasn’t aware Ambition had a criminal population. Are you referring to Shain Agle?”

  “Agle went back on the SIC’s shuttle. The rest of Ambition’s prisoners consists of seven stiffs frozen in cryonics section, and one religious nut in the brig. You want me to get a hold of Gertsen, sir?”

  “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure he’ll turn up when the time comes.”

  ***

  “The last seven hundred years have passed like mere seconds to Sol—two or three beats of her great heart. She hasn’t forgotten her children. Sol’s endless energy sent us out this far, Bennoit, and Sol’s boundless love will guide us back. I’ve never once doubted it, and neither should you.”

  Gertsen was sitting on the visitor’s bench opposite the only cell in Ambition’s brig currently occupied. Zosma Lion was standing on the other side of the translucent green security shield, his hands cupped together in front of him in a relaxed, almost meditative state. The lieutenant couldn’t understand how such a peaceful looking man had played such a malevolent role during the Pegan conflict. Everything about him was the direct opposite of war. His eyes were kind, his voice soft-spoken and soothing. A tranquil feeling filled Gertsen listening to him. It was the easiest thing to do—so easy, he’d been doing it for more than two hours.

  He recalled the warning the guard had given him, like some fading transmission, getting fainter with every passing minute. Don’t let him get in your head. He’s a pathological liar. He’ll say all the things you want to hear. Do not trust him.

  But it was hard not to listen to him. Zosma Lion knew more about Ambition’s ancient history than almost anyone else onboard. The robot, Nash, undoubtedly knew more, but this man was a direct link to her darkest secrets. He was the last representative of the biggest corporation that had ruled the entire Sol system’s economic indus
try, Ganymede Unlimited, back in the twenty-fourth century.

  Hearing him talk about some strange religion that had evolved during the last two or three hundred years wasn’t near as interesting as the industrial conspiracy that had sent two star systems into war. Gertsen wanted to know more about that.

  “Tell me more about Ambition’s original command officers.”

  Zosma stroked at his white beard and smiled. “You’ll have to be more specific than that, son.”

  “Is it true that you—that they were aware the Pegan system had only warned us to stay away? Did Earth’s governments at the time trick people into thinking they were an imminent threat?”

  “Any star system that close with resources greater than our own was a threat. We had to defend ourselves, strike preemptively before they could.” He was still smiling that calm, peaceful smile. “Wouldn’t you be more interested in hearing the details from Ambition’s first leader himself?”

  Gertsen finally stood. “Admiral Lennix? He’s somewhere on the science levels, hidden away in a cryonics facility. Even if I knew where, it wouldn’t much matter. A man frozen solid wouldn’t have much to say.”

  “I know exactly where he is. I could take you there. We could bring him back. You could ask your questions.”

  The lieutenant crossed his arms over his chest and approached the force field. “Lennix and the others are war criminals. They’ll remain frozen until they reach Earth.”

  Zosma leaned forward until the tip of his nose almost touched the screen. “Is there a cryogenics facility on your ship?”

  “There is, but it isn’t functioning. Some parts of Retribution weren’t completed before we… before our mission began.”

  “Then the Admiral will remain here, on Ambition. When the ship eventually dies, he will perish along with it. He’ll never receive punishment for his crimes… You’ll never hear what you want to learn, and believe me, Neil Lennix can teach you a lot.”

  Gertsen considered his words. Edmund and Barret wouldn’t be happy if he assisted one criminal to free another. Gertsen himself could very well end up in a prison cell if he attempted it. But Retribution and Ambition would never make it back to the Sol system, even if the mission to destroy the Alderamin home world was a success. So what if he spent his last few months behind a security shield? They would all be dead soon enough. There was so much he could learn from Lennix.

  “I know how the thawing procedure works,” Zosma said. It was as if he could read the lieutenant’s thoughts from the expression on his face. “It wouldn’t take long at all.”

  “How long?”

  “A matter of minutes to unfreeze the body. In less than an hour, Admiral Lennix would be conscious. You could be speaking with him.”

  Gertsen pulled a small handheld device from his pocket. He removed the back of it, and went to work on the inside circuitry. “This is location communicator,” he explained. “Retribution can track where I’ve been, and where I am.”

  “You’re disabling it?”

  “If I did that, they would receive an alarm and begin searching. I’m adjusting it… reprogramming where I’ve been.” He made a few final adjustments and snapped it back together. “There, all done. They’ll now see that I transported back to Retribution forty-five minutes ago. They’ll also believe I’ve taken you with me and secured you in our brig.”

  Zosma placed his hands over his chest. “You’ve made me a happy man, Bennoit. Sol bless you. Now what about the guard stationed in the next section—how are you going to explain my release to him?”

  “I told him when I first arrived that I’d been given orders to transfer you. I imagine he’s long gone by now.”

  The smile on Zosma’s face widened. “You were planning something like this all along.”

  Gertsen lowered the security screen, and the prisoner stepped out. “Don’t try anything stupid. I’m a lot younger than you. When I’m done with the Admiral, I’m taking you both over to Retribution. You’ll be back in lockup before the rest of Ambition’s crew is evacuated.”

  “Of course,” Zosma agreed. He started out in front of Gertsen. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, and I’m sure the admiral will agree.”

  Chapter 28

  A sharp whistling sound awoke Sulafat. He couldn’t breathe. His heart was broken, his lungs squished flat against crushed ribs. He clutched at his chest, searching for the brace that had kept him alive since the shooting. Not there. I didn’t need it anymore… I don’t need it now. He gasped at the cold air again and it rushed inside him. The belt restraint across his chest had done its job well. Sulafat leaned back, and the thick straps peeled away. His ribs weren’t crushed, but he suspected one had at least cracked. The whistling continued.

  Hadar Cen moaned. Sulafat unbuckled and crawled towards him. It felt as though someone was sticking hot blades into his chest. More than one cracked rib, maybe three. He moved slowly, carefully, trying to keep his back perfectly straight. He grabbed the man’s arm and shook. “Hadar, wake up! Are you all right?”

  Another short groan. “I’m alive… not sure if that’s all right or not.”

  Tor and Wez had begun to move in the seats ahead, making similar pained sounds. Each reported they were okay, banged and bruised, but for the most part, unbroken.

  The cabin had darkened considerably. The control panels were black and dead. A layer of thin smoke hung above their heads. Hadar removed his restraints. “Where’s that whistling coming from?”

  “Up here,” Tor said. The only source of light was coming from the window in front of him. There was a crack running down the middle of the thick glass. Cold air and crystalized pellets of methane ice were rushing through it. The snow had already started drifting into his lap and along the left-hand side of the cabin.

  Wez tore a piece of sleeve away from his shirt and handed it to him. “Try and plug it with this before we freeze to death.”

  The whistling noise lessened but didn’t die off altogether. “The ship’s emergency landing function must have kicked in,” Tor said. “We came in our belly, and not nose first.”

  “I wouldn’t classify that as much of a landing,” Wez commented.

  Sulafat moved to the back of the flight cabin. The pain in his chest had already started to subside. Perhaps the jolt against his restraints hadn’t been as damaging as he first thought. “We need to get outside and assess the damage. Help me with this security door.”

  Hadar made it to the captain first. The door had been jarred open a few inches in the crash. Both men worked their fingers into the crack and pulled. It slid open a little further. “Try that keypad next to you,” Sulafat said.

  Hadar pressed at one of the blackened buttons. A spark jumped out, and lights returned to the cabin. It was minimal at best, but they could all see a little better at least. A few of the control screens in front of Tor and Wez flickered back to life. Alien script began displaying on the screens. Wez snorted. “Wish I could read Pegan.”

  Sulafat and Hadar managed to pull the door open halfway. The captain slipped through into the next section of the ship, the main passenger transport area. A dull strip of red emergency light flickered above as he made his way down the aisle.

  “It’s getting cold in here,” Hadar said from behind him. “It’ll be a lot worse outside.”

  Sulafat started pulling the next door open. “The security guards spent most of their time back here during our trip from Pega. I’m hoping we’ll find something to give us a fighting chance on the planet’s surface.”

  A blast of cold air rushed against the men. The snow was a half a meter deep past the door. There was a massive tear in the ceiling where the ship had started to split into two pieces after the initial impact. Sulafat pushed through the drifts, working his way to the twisted mass of storage lockers on the far side. The wind howled above him, and green snow stung at his eyes as he began digging through the wreckage. “Environment suits!” he yelled. “At least half a dozen. And weapons too! Give me a
hand.”

  Hadar climbed through the trail Sulafat had left and started gathering helmets and rifles. They made two trips, collecting four complete suits. Sulafat went back a third time, searching for medical supplies and food. He returned to the passenger cabin empty-handed.

  Tor was already slipping into the biggest thermal suit. “Who needs to eat anyway? It’s not like we’re going to last long down here long without any chance of rescue.” He grunted as he worked the suit over his broad shoulders. It was still too small for him.

  Sulafat handed each man a weapon.

  Tor pointed his rifle at a bare section of cabin wall. “These won’t work for us, remember? They’re programmed to operate in Pegan hands only.” He pulled the trigger to demonstrate, and the weapon fired a metal bullet into the wall.

  Canis pushed the smoking end of Emin’s rifle towards the floor. “They appear to work just fine in human hands now.”

  Sulafat held up his gloved hands and wiggled his fingers. “Weapon security must be programmed into these.” He slung one of the rifles over his shoulder. “Five minutes outside, no longer. We see what condition the ship’s in, and how defensible the surrounding terrain is. Even with the suits and helmets, staying out any longer could be hazardous.”

  “What are we defending ourselves from, Captain?” Wez asked.

  “The Hunn will know this ship didn’t make it. They’ve probably already started a search.”

  “The Hunn have bigger problems than us. Half of their entire population is dropping dead from the spread of that gas your chest brace released. I don’t think they’ll bother wasting any of their resources trying to find us.”

  Sulafat pictured the Hunn Prime sitting at the conference table in his quarters back on Ambition. He remembered the warning. I’m in your head. I can see your thoughts. You will not allow the rest of your people to come to any harm. Resist me, and I will kill them all.