The Galactic Sentinel: Ultimate Edition: 4 Books with 2000+ Pages of Highly Entertaining Sci-Fi Space Adventure
Page 123
“What’s to consider, son? If they discharge you, getting medical will be hell, and we both know how much you need it after your run in with the CSD. Sure, Academy Four will mean a bit of paperwork, but you’ll be teaching the best up and coming kids in the Fleet how to fight.”
“What about the Fury Project? I haven’t been able to find any information on it.”
The Admiral looked troubled all of a sudden. “I’d be careful who you talk to about that if I were you, son. They closed that project down soon after the war ended. The Confederation Science Division discovered that those running the program were conducting questionable…experiments. If you accept the new assignment, the medical team at Academy Four will be briefed on how to care for your implant. The choice is yours.”
Grimshaw didn’t want to push his luck, but the Admiral clearly wanted him. He waded a little further into the subject he clearly didn’t want to discuss. “What made the CSD’s experiments questionable?”
“I don’t have access to that kind of information, son, but I heard it had something to do with infants.” He almost spat in disgust.
“It isn’t a choice though, is it?”
“What do you mean, son?”
“You said the choice is mine. Either I let you hide me out on the Fringe in the middle of nowhere with decent medical, or I return to normal life here and get hounded by the CID. I bet I wouldn’t last more than a few years.”
“I’m just a messenger Grimshaw. Life gives us options. No one promised those options were going to be easy or good. That’s the one thing they don’t tell you about this crazy train. It’s easy enough to get on, but not so easy to get off. A lot has changed while you were asleep, son. The Confederation got a new president. He’s young and full of ambition. Humans have been granted a seat on the Galactic Council. The world stops for no one and the Galaxy even less so. Hell, I’d be surprised if you recognize Earth since you last left.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Grimshaw said.
“Anyway,” Admiral Axton said, fixing his cap to his head. “I best get going. Got preparations to make before the SS Orion can leave. Think about my offer. If you change your mind, you can contact me using the details on that compad.”
“I accept your offer, sir,” Grimshaw said.
Admiral Axton squinted at him, and Grimshaw wondered whether he was trying to suppress a smile.
“You’re as smart as they say, son. I’ll have someone collect you in the morning. Don’t worry about picking up anything. Whatever you need, we’ll get it for you. Teach those cadets what it’s all about and we’ll take good care of you. I’ll see you on the Orion.”
“See you on the Orion, sir,” Grimshaw said with a salute.
Admiral Axton stopped at the door and looked back to Grimshaw. “You won’t regret it, Lieutenant-commander, and that’s a promise.”
Grimshaw was left in silence to consider what he’d just agreed to. He would normally give such things a great deal of thought, but his gut told him to go with Admiral Axton, and if Sergeant Richards was still around, he’d tell him to go with his gut.
Grimshaw leaned back on his pillow, his eyes feeling heavy.
The sun was rising outside, but he actually felt like sleeping for the first time since waking from his coma. He closed his eyes and thought of Team Zeta. He would see to it that they were never forgotten and that their sacrifices weren’t made in vain. What that would look like, he wasn’t certain. But he offered silent thanks to Sergeant Richards in particular, for though he was gone, he still guided Grimshaw.
And Grimshaw suddenly realized why they called Sergeant Richards the North Star.
THE END
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The Lunar Express Preview
Max Miller - Book 1
1
Happy Birthday
I mistook it for a shooting star. It streaked across the night sky, vanishing in a flash above the tree line.
I considered myself fortunate to witness such beauty. I was drunk, and the moon was full.
“I hope you made a wish, Cat,” I said, scratching my German Shepherd behind the ear.
He panted contentedly.
Cat is a strange name for a dog. I would have preferred Rex, myself, but he wouldn’t respond to anything other than the name on his collar. As always, I played the shit cards life dealt me.
I blew a plume of tobacco smoke into the cool air and watched it expand into a hazy cloud, drifting off on the chill north breeze.
The porch decking creaked under my boots as I pulled my coat tight about my shoulders. “It’s getting cold, boy. Let’s go back inside.”
Cat agreed with a low bark.
I should have known it wasn’t a shooting star, but by that time of night the whiskey did half the seeing and almost all the thinking. Truth be told, my almost-empty glass prompted me to go back indoors.
I enjoyed watching the stars, but unlike so many, I had no desire to touch them. The view of the night sky was one of the reasons I spent most weekends at the cabin in the woods. I enjoyed whiskey more, especially a bottle of twenty-twenty, Midleton Very Rare. One of the finest things my forefathers bestowed upon the world—up there with trad music, Guinness, and Lucky Charms.
My tongue no longer tasted the sweet notes or the oaken undertones of course, but that didn’t stop me from drinking. I’d been saving the Midleton for a special occasion, after all, and what better than my fortieth birthday? I had no one left to share it with. The few acquaintances I did have, didn’t know it was my birthday. So it was just me, Cat, and a bottle of Irish, sharing a moment with the cosmos.
I chuckled at the thought and gently tapped my Savinelli briar against the railing and tucked it into my coat pocket.
I didn’t smoke often, but every now and then I enjoyed a bowl of Mac Baren Classic. The vanilla notes clung to my mustache and beard. It reminded me of the days when I’d sit on my grandfather’s lap. Back when I was seven or eight. Back before my father got out of prison. I didn’t have many memories worth keeping after that.
I raised a final toast to Luna in all her battered glory. “May the night forever bow before your radiance, and may the universe never stop her dance of infinite indifference.” From what drunken depths I drew those words I knew not, but I pondered them for a moment. “You and I are not too different, Luna. Spots floating on a vast ocean of shadow. Here’s to forty more.”
I broke out laughing. I laughed so hard I found myself clinging to the rail with my free hand.
I wiped away a tear. Cat nuzzled the back of my knee the way he did when he was worried about me.
“It’s okay, boy,” I said, perhaps more to myself than him. “It’s okay.”
I drained the last sip and went inside, Cat padding after me. Only embers remained of the wood fire.
I put my hat on the hat stand then stumbled to the teak drinks cabinet, kicking past the empty cans, to pour my fifth, or maybe my seventh; I’d lost count after the third. I was about to throw off my coat and fall into the recliner when Cat turned to the door, stuck his nose in the air, and started barking.
A distant hum of engines found my ears. I sighed and set my glass aside, patting Cat’s head, trying to calm him. The hum grew to a rumble, then a cacophony. The wooden planks trembled.
“Who the hell could that be?”
Besides my cleaner and the mailman, only two people knew where I lived. If it was Sergeant Walsh from the New York City Police Department, it meant trouble. If it was Gabriella Denaro, it meant bigger trouble.
I was expecting neither.
I checked my revolver was loaded and the safety was off and went to the window for a look.
It was a ship alright. Coming in low northwest. Part of me hoped it was a pack of unruly rich kids joyriding in their old man’s toy and that they’d carry along their merry way without stopping. Another part of me knew hope was a fool’s game.
And it is. The ship cut a sudden turn in the cabin’s direction, its fla
shing lights blotting out the night.
It was hard to tell much in the stark contrast of light and shadow, but it looked about the size of a small orbital transport. Possibly military.
“For fuck’s sake.” I gritted my teeth.
Cat barked sharply.
I stepped away from the windows and killed the lights.
“Hush.” I patted Cat.
He listened and quietened down, his tail wagging with excitement.
“Friend?” his translator whined.
“Something tells me they might not be so friendly, buddy.”
He looked up at me and cocked his head, one ear twitching. His tongue rolled out, and his eyes brimmed with joy.
Sometimes, I thought Cat was smarter than he looked. Other times, like right now, I wasn’t so sure.
Bright lights fanned through the slatted blinds, beating back the fire’s fading glow. A thud I felt more than heard—the ship touched down in the clearing outside. Shrieking engines dropped to an idling hiss.
It meant they didn’t plan on sticking around for long. That was something, at least. And I would make them leave sooner still.
I grabbed the Remington bolt action from the gun rack by the door. I had my old .44, but I figured it was best to bring the big guns, just in case. I pulled my hat back on, muttering curses, and exited the cabin.
By the time I got outside, three silhouettes were already halfway to the cabin, dark forms framed by bright beams. Their coats fluttered in the hot air thrown by the gunship’s idling atmospheric thrusters.
I still couldn’t tell the make or model and I couldn’t see any badges or markings, but it was either military or ex-military. Same went for the three men, if their formation was anything to go by. They fanned out tactically, making them harder targets if it came to shooting. They wore armor and had rifles strapped across their chests. However, their helmets were retracted, and they held their hands out by their sides, approaching in a non-threatening manner.
Cat sidled up to me, his tail wagging playfully again.
His lack of concern about the situation did little to ease the tension in my shoulders. He wasn’t the best judge of character; he’d chosen me as his companion, after all.
A blast of hot air almost plucked my hat from my head. I grabbed it with one hand and placed the butt of the rifle on the railing with the other. I wanted them to know I meant business.
“Get the hell off my property!” My voice boomed above the engine’s low whir.
All three slowed, their features growing clearer under the porch light.
The leader wore a short beard and a buzz cut. He had a heavy jaw and his face was a study in pockmarked scars. He had an eye implant, a black void surrounded by metal. Heavy-duty cyberware. He looked over the house as though checking the inside. The one to my left towered over the others. I’m a tall guy, a touch over six two, but this monster had at least a foot on me. His head was a slab of roughly hewn granite with sinkholes for eyes, over a nose carved with the dullest chisel. His shoulders were unnaturally big, packing serious c-ware. Probably skeletal-level strength enhancements if his size was anything to go by. The third guy was wiry and wove through the long grass like a weasel. High, sharp cheekbones and the end of his nose curved slightly like a beak. His long black hair was tied back in a ponytail. He had no visible c-ware, but I didn’t doubt something was installed somewhere.
All three wore dark-grey uniforms with no insignia I recognized. They were private security or secret service types.
They could have been Gabriella Denaro’s people or Walsh could have disclosed my address.
Either was bad news.
“Maybe you couldn’t hear me over that damn transport.” I shouted louder, though they’d stopped about ten yards away. “I just told you to leave.”
The leader threw up his arms. “Miller,” he said jovially, like we were long-lost friends. “Sorry for the surprise appearance. We tried calling your comex on the way over, but we couldn’t get a signal.”
“Who the hell are you, and what do you want?” I wasn’t about to tell this guy that I left my comex at my office on the weekends, and that I had an electromagnetic jammer to stop unwanted people—like him—from snooping on the property anyway. I loosened my grip on the rifle a little. They were too close to get more than a couple of decent shots before they drew on me. My right hand hung at my side, close to my revolver.
Cat put his paws on the rail and barked with excitement, his tail brushing the wooden floor, his tongue flopping sidewise.
The leader moved closer.
“I’m Captain Marco Russo. This is Lucas and Matteo,” he said pointing to the bigger man then the weasel-like one. “We work for the Denaro family.”
He said it like it was meant to make me feel better. It couldn’t have made me feel worse.
“Tell Gabriella if she wants something, she should come herself.”
“I wouldn’t dream of telling Missus Denaro anything lest she have my head removed from my shoulders,” Marco quipped. “She didn’t send us. We’re here on behalf of Mister Denaro.”
I tried not to show my surprise. I’d helped Gabriella conduct an investigation behind her husband’s back the year previous. Private family matters she wanted kept under wraps. Perhaps Frankie Denaro had found out about that. Had he sent these guys to deal with me for sticking my nose in? The guy was a mobster turned business magnate. He owned several mega-corporations, including Cybercorp and Stellar Engines, and had his fingers in numerous others. Word on the street was, he didn’t get where he was by asking nicely.
“Don’t worry,” Marco shouted. “It has nothing to do with the…indiscretion…you assisted Missus Denaro with last year. It is, however, a matter of grave importance. May we come in?”
He gestured at the door behind me.
I thought about it briefly. If they’d wanted to take me out, they could have blown the cabin to pieces from the air and I would have been none the wiser. Or they could have sneaked up on me as I slept. I had sensors around the perimeter, but nothing these guys couldn’t handle. I considered telling him to make the others stay outside, but I didn’t want them thinking I was scared even if it took everything I had not to shit a brick sidewise.
“Okay,” I all but snapped.
Cat barked and pranced, on the edge of elation. We made our way inside.
I held the door open. Lucas brought up the rear and had to duck under the doorframe. As he passed, I got a strong whiff of raw onion. I closed the door, drowning the sound of the ship outside.
“Take a seat,” I gestured to the chairs around the table, doing my best not to choke on onion fumes.
They clustered in front of the fire instead.
“We appreciate the offer, but we can’t stay long,” Marco said, taking in the room. “Got other pressing business.”
I returned the Remington to the rack and sauntered to the recliner. I considered sinking into it. That would send them the message that I wasn’t worried, but I’d also be making myself vulnerable. So, I crossed my arms on its high back in an effort to hold myself steady and to appear casual.
I couldn’t tell if it worked.
“Then maybe you should tell me why you’re here so you can get to that business.”
“No need to be pushy, Mister Miller. We just want to talk.”
I eyed the plasma gun on his hip. “Between the gunship, those weapons you’re carrying, and that heavy cyberware Onions is wearing, you guys are packing a lot for just talking.”
“These are dangerous times, Miller. Tensions between Earth and Mars are high and Luna always gets caught in the middle. One must be prepared.” He nodded at my gunrack. “You know how it is.”
“Yes. You never know what threats might visit you in the night.”
He chuckled and looked around the cabin, taking in the mess. “I thought Missus Denaro was exaggerating when she said you were a bit of an animal.”
“I gave up all pretense of humans being anything
but animals a long time ago. We’re a pack of apes who can talk. Nothing more.”
“I read your file. You were quite the cop back in the day. They used to call you the best detective in New York—even one of the best in the world. Seeing your credentials, I understood why Mister Denaro wants you. But now that I see the inside of your house…” He almost sounded disappointed.
My jaw started to hurt, and I forced myself to stop clenching it. “Kind of you to fly all the way out here to tell me I need to clean.”
Cat went to Marco, his tail swinging wildly. He nudged the thuggish man’s leg. Unlike me, Cat didn’t mind strangers, but he wasn’t usually so playful around them.
Marco stroked Cat’s head and smiled at me. “I’ll cut to the chase. Mister Denaro has summoned you to Luna.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re kidding, right?”
His stony expression said he was not. “When it comes to Mister Denaro’s orders, I don’t kid.”
I wondered what his game was, “There must be a mistake.”
Marco shook his head. “Mister Denaro asked for you specifically.”
“Why?”
“He needs someone to investigate a matter on Luna, and he values discretion. He only found out about the job you did for Missus Denaro because she told him. He was impressed.”
I had no intention of going to Luna, but I was curious to know what this was all about. “What matter does he want investigated?”
“Mister Denaro will share those details with you in person. Along with your terms of employment and your fee. You will be amply rewarded, of course.”
“There are thousands of other investigators who would jump at the opportunity.”
“He insisted on you, especially after Missus Denaro highly recommended you.”
“Listen, Marco. I appreciate the offer, I really do.” It was a lie and he knew it. “But there isn’t a hope in hell I’m leaving Earth.”
He spread his arms, gesturing to the cabin in general. “It must be nice living out here on the weekends, away from the big smoke. Even if the cabin is a bit of a trash heap. Very few can afford to live on wooded acreage these days.”