Deep Space Dragnet (Rich Weed Book 2)

by Berg,Alex P.

  I collected Carl and pushed off toward the pirate’s cargo bay, following Tarja’s lead. Luckily, no more pirates descended on us out of the woodwork—or plastic and metalwork. The interior of the pirate’s hold had been fashioned of a different set of materials than our own, with lots of polished aluminum and a molded plastic that gleamed with an iridescent shimmer. It reminded me of the skin of a fancy sport cruiser, but in the hold, it composed entire trusses and beams. Surely something else strengthened it from within?

  Swarms of loader bots ignored us as we passed them by, pausing in their tasks only long enough for us to snake through. I’m sure our delay would be catalogued and analyzed at a future date as a means to improve efficiency beyond the bots’ already impressive levels.

  Despite the differences in construction, the bay appeared to be laid out similar to our own with a pair of airlocks on opposite ends of the far wall from the bay doors. We floated over to the one on the right, but the exterior door didn’t acknowledge our presence.

  Figures, I thought. Paige, any chance you can finagle this thing open?

  I wish I could, she replied, but I can’t even get a negative response out of the ship’s servenet. To be honest, I’m not sure they have one. It’s like I’m shouting into a void.

  Wonderful. I eyed Tarja. She seemed to be experiencing similar problems on her end. Thankfully, despite the pirates being, well…pirates, whoever they’d purchased or stolen their ship from hadn’t completely ignored standard occupational safety guidelines. Tarja crossed to a panel on the airlock’s side, slid it open, and grabbed the controls within. She primed the emergency door release system by turning the knob counter-clockwise ninety degrees and pumping the lever three times.

  The exterior door released, allowing us to push it open the remainder of the way with our hands and enter the airlock. From there, all we had to do was repeat the process using the manual interior controls, force cycle the atmosphere, and pry open the interior door.

  The pseudogravity cut in right before the door opened on the ship’s interior. I dragged Carl inside and retracted my face panel. Tarja did the same.

  “Think it’s safe to talk?” I said.

  Tarja shrugged. “Who knows. If this ship is anything like our own, there are holorecorders all over the place. Even if there aren’t, a security system surely logged us manually opening the airlock. We need to move.”

  “Not so fast,” I said. “I need to get Carl back online. As strong as I am, I can’t carry him around under pseudogravity. He’ll turn me into a liability.”

  “Leave him, then. We don’t have time for this.”

  “Tarja. I need him back. He’s my friend.”

  Tarja glanced up and down the hallway, her carbine still gripped in her hands. “Fine, but you need to be quick about it. Given your long, codependent bromance with this android, I’m assuming you know more about what to do in this situation than I do. So what’s the plan?”

  “Remove the barb,” I said. “If he doesn’t perk up automatically, I’ll perform a hard reset on him. Won’t take more than fifteen to thirty seconds.”

  “And if that fails?”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t.”

  Tarja leaned over and looked closely at the barb. “Doesn’t seem to be sparking, so you should be okay. You’re wearing non-conductive gloves, right?”

  I shrugged. “Beats me. When it comes to spacesuits, you’re the expert.”

  “Well I know for a fact mine are.” Tarja reached out, plucked the barb from Carl’s forehead, and flicked it to the ground. Nothing happened, to her or to Carl. “You’re up, slugger.”

  I snaked the tip of my pinky finger into Carl’s right ear canal, feeling for the reset button. When I found it, I held it down. After ten seconds, I felt a faint click. Then I pushed it again.

  Nothing happened. Tarja and I passed a few tense seconds in silence before Carl’s eyes snapped open.

  “Rich?” His eyes darted back and forth, taking in the surroundings. “What happened?”

  Air burst out of my lungs in a relieved sigh. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath. “Good to see you, too, pal. You had me worried for a minute. Or three or five.”

  “About seven,” said Tarja, “but who’s counting? Now can we get moving?”

  Carl eyed the bounty hunter. “I can only speculate at this point, but I’m guessing I own you some thanks, both on my behalf and Rich’s.”

  “Why do you assume I didn’t already thank her?” I asked.

  He lifted a brow. “Did you?”

  “Don’t make me regret resetting you.”

  “Are you two done?” said Tarja. “We need to move. It’s not safe here.”

  Carl glanced at our surroundings once more. “I take it we’re aboard the pirate vessel. Why?”

  “Good question,” I said. “Rebooting your limp carcass took precedent, but the thought had crossed my mind. Tarja?”

  “Leverage,” she said.

  “Leverage?”

  “Yes, leverage. What are you, a mynah bird?”

  “Let’s keep level heads,” said Carl. “Tarja, can you bring us up to speed? Rich’s and my connections to the Agapetes’ servenet have been spotty to say the least.”

  “That’s because the pirates torpedoed it,” said Tarja. “I’m not sure how, but they’ve mostly blocked Brain communication to the ship’s computer. Locked us out. Restricted access to a number of the Agapetes’ basic systems. I had to force a couple doors just to get into the hold.”

  “What does this have to do with leverage?” I asked.

  “I don’t know how much of the fight you were able to follow,” said Tarja, “but when I left, things weren’t looking too good. I don’t know what happened to Kass and Wilkins’ team, but Rhees and Urrupain got overwhelmed. Captain Horatio and his men captured them, and let me tell you, they were not happy about our counterattack. I haven’t spoken to them, but I have a feeling they’re not going to be as merciful as they have in the past.”

  “Which still doesn’t tell me a thing about leverage,” I said.

  “Are you dense?” said Tarja. “They’ve hacked the Agapetes. They’ve captured some if not all of her crew. They may not be feeling generous enough to let us go. We need leverage.”

  “Their ship,” said Carl, nodding. “I’d guess all, or almost all, of their crew is on the Agapetes right now. If we could somehow gain a measure of control…”

  “Exactly.” Tarja removed the stolen pirate carbine from around her neck and tossed it to me, simultaneously drawing her pulse pistol from its holster. “So maybe now you understand my urgency. We need to find the ship’s control room. I’m hoping it’s deserted, but if it’s not, you won’t be much use without your pulse pistol. I also have no idea where it might be, but unless this ship has a different design than anything I’ve set foot on before, I’m guessing we should delve toward the center. Now follow me.”

  I did, as did Carl. Thanks to the lack of active shooting and my partner’s return, my nerves had settled, but as our feet pounded against the floors of the empty corridors, primarily constructed out of more of the shimmery, brightly colored plastic from the cargo bay, I found myself having a hard time concentrating on the task at hand.

  “Um…guys? Can we talk about this ship for a moment?”

  “You mean the garish color scheme?” asked Tarja.

  “I was thinking more about that fact that it’s here at all,” I said. “Docked to the Agapetes. While we’re still in warp, as far as I can tell.”

  “Right,” said Tarja. “That.”

  Carl gave me a sympathetic glance. “Apparently, InterSTELLA’s intelligence was right all along. Go figure.”

  “But…how?” I said. “I thought we’d agreed warp bubble merging and space time compression matching technology didn’t exist.”

  “Clearly, we were wrong,” said Carl. “But look on the bright side. Ducic is going to be giddy as a
school girl once he recovers from his panic attack.”

  “Can it,” said Tarja. “Just because we’re staying off Brain channels doesn’t mean any pirates left aboard won’t be able to track us by your yapping.”

  I took her advice. Tarja, fueled by some internal ship-oriented spidey-sense, led us down corridors, past the open doors of crew quarters and galleys. Part of me wondered how big the ship was and if Tarja’s method wasn’t simply trial and error, but within a minute or two of searching we entered a hallway that widened at the far end into a cylindrical room. Bright lights filled it, and I spotted the backs of a couple captain’s chairs.

  We rushed forward. A door slid shut in front of our faces, bare meters from the edge of the room. We turned, only to see another door clamp shut twenty paces behind us.

  “Son of a…” Tarja slammed the butt of her gun against the wall.

  I glanced at the walls by the door in front of us. I didn’t see an emergency release. Same with the door behind us. “Think somebody trapped us manually? Or did we trigger an automatic failsafe?”

  “Does it matter?” asked Tarja. “Come on, we need to figure out how to get out.”

  “It matters because if this was deliberate, there might be more bad stuff headed our way,” I said. “Anything from knockout gas to a horde of armed pirates.”

  “Shut up and help me with the door, will you?” Tarja removed a multitool from a suit pocket and jabbed the end into the door’s seal.

  “Wait,” said Carl. “Hear that?”

  “Hear what?” I asked.

  “A thump.” He pointed past the door, in the direction of what we assumed was the command room.

  Tarja and I followed his finger, and lacking x-ray vision, we subsequently stretched our ears. I didn’t hear anything at first, but then…something. Footsteps?

  The door shuddered, and I heard a grinding rasp, that of metal on metal.

  Tarja stepped back and readied her pistol. “Weapons!”

  I aimed my carbine at the seal. The door shook again and produced another grating screech. How many pirates lurked on the other side? Five? A dozen? What kind of weaponry would they carry? Would it even be worth it to fight? Maybe Tarja and I should lay down our arms and beg for mercy. Maybe—

  Another screeching grind, and the door opened a few centimeters. A voice carried through the crack. A familiar one.

  “Don’t shoot, guys.”

  29

  “Uche?” I said. “Is that you?”

  On cue, the man’s fingers slid through the gap and grasped the door. “Sure is. Now give me a hand with this. Pull on three, okay?”

  Carl and I grasped opposite sides. Uche counted up, and we pulled. With the door’s screeching protest filling our ears, we forced the panels apart.

  Uche stood on the other side, outfitted in one of the same silver and grey InterSTELLA spacesuits I wore, a pulse pistol holstered at his side. As glad as I was to see him, I found myself confused. Had he really abandoned the Agapetes’ crew? Could he be the inside man I’d worried about? I’d previously come to the conclusion the pirates’ source wasn’t aboard the ship but rather inside InterSTELLA headquarters, but I could’ve been mistaken. Of course, if he wasn’t on our side, why was he helping us?

  Tarja put things more concisely than I could’ve. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question,” said Jones.

  “But you didn’t,” said Tarja.

  The chocolate-skinned man frowned. “I got caught in engineering when the pirates initiated their attack. When I tried to get out, I found my ship’s access was blocked. Doors wouldn’t even open for me, so I had to force them manually. I couldn’t get ahold of Captain Rhees either. When I finally made contact, it was right as she was going down. She told me to loop around and reinforce Kass’s team, so that’s what I attempted, but I got cut off from them thanks to the lockdown caused by your broken cargo bay window incident.

  “That’s when I took matters into my own hands. Figuring Kass, Wilkins, and the rest were on their own, I suited up, followed you over here, cycled the airlock once you’d moved on, and skirted around to the ship’s far side.”

  “Okay,” said Tarja. “But why?”

  Uche lifted a brow. “One word—”

  “Leverage?” I said. “I bet it’s leverage.”

  “Yes, actually.” He seemed disappointed I’d stolen his thunder. He waved us through the doors into the command room.

  “We could’ve used your help in the cargo bay,” said Tarja.

  “And I would’ve given it,” said Uche, “if I’d been able to arrive in time. I didn’t make it through the airlock until you were halfway into this ship.”

  That would explain why I hadn’t seen him. “Why didn’t you show your face before we took off in search of this place? Some backup would’ve been appreciated.”

  “No offense, but I used you as bait. Seeing how this turned out, you should be glad I did.” Uche gestured to the floor, where we found a pirate paralyzed and sprawled across the floor. “He was following you closely through the security channels. Didn’t catch me, though. Guess the airlock alarm didn’t reset after you snuck through it.”

  Tarja gave the man a reluctant nod. “Good work, but we need to keep our guard up. There’s no guarantee this chump was the only one left on board, not to mention we have no idea when the rest of the pirates will be back. We’ll need to work fast. Find something we can use against the attackers.”

  “I’m with you,” said Uche. “But the question is how. I’ve tried to interface with the ship’s computer via Brain and gotten nothing but silence in return.”

  “We could hardwire our way into the systems,” said Tarja. “We’re in the control room. There should be a manual access station somewhere.”

  I looked around the room. For as much as it resembled the Agapetes’ command station, with floor to ceiling displays and numerous outward-facing built in chairs, I didn’t see any backup controls. Perhaps the pirates’ ship was fully Brain controlled? I thought that was against code.

  “You’re proficient in manual overrides?” asked Uche.

  “Not especially,” said Tarja. “But barring a more radical, last ditch effort, I don’t have a better idea.”

  “I do,” said Uche. “We’ve got a prisoner now. Let’s secure him and make him do our dirty work.”

  Uche hooked his arms under the unconscious pirate’s armpits, lifted him, and dumped him into one of the chairs.

  Carl lifted a finger. “You’re…not planning on torturing this fellow, are you?”

  “You’re implying I have a plan,” said Uche. “Someone find me some zips or PolyPly cord.”

  I checked my suit’s pockets but didn’t find much of anything. As I performed the check, the room faded around me. The back half darkened, and the other half merged into the Agapetes’ own central command.

  Uh…Paige.

  Don’t look at me, she said. I’m not doing anything. Hidden holoprojectors, maybe?

  The scene before me was familiar yet new. Captain Rhees and Urrupain sat in the center of the room, tied back to back with disheveled hair and scrapes on their faces. Wilkins and Kass were there too, bloodied and battered, as was Ducic, cowering and shaking and squeezing his eyes shut as tight as they’d go. Behind them stood a number of pirates, grim scowls stretching their faces, and in the front, floating half-between the Agapetes’ command room and our own, was Captain Horatio, again wearing a crisp shirt and short-sleeved suit jacket along with his colorful headgear.

  He blinked. “Ah. Well, this ’splains why Marcus wasn’t respondin’.”

  Tarja stepped forward into the projection. “The gig is up, Horatio. It’s time to deal.”

  “The gig’s up? S’time to deal? What the skrag ye’s talkin’ ’bout?” he said. “Who’re ye’s?”

  Uche stepped forward. “Uche Jones. First mate of the Agapetes.”

&nb
sp; “Ya, I remember ye’s,” said Horatio. “I’s referrin’ to the blonde space twig. Ye’s weren’t on the ship’s roster. Same’s fer the droid or the squat dumpy skragger in back.”

  Squat and dumpy? That wasn’t very kind. But I noted what he said about the roster. Apparently, our ruse had worked.

  “The name’s Tarja Olli, and I’m your worst nightmare.”

  “Oh, I doubts it,” said Horatio. “In fact, ye’s seem a little, mmm…rawr.” He scratched at her with pretend claws.

  “Cut the crap,” said Uche. “You have something we want—my captain and crew—and we have something you want—this fellow. Marcus. So let’s make a trade. No one needs to get hurt.”

  “Marcus?” Horatio laughed. “He’s a skraggin’ twit. Take ’im.”

  “We have your ship, too,” said Tarja.

  “Ye’s do?” Horatio leaned in and tilted his head. “Tha’s news to me. Rüdiger, why don’a you take a team back to the Wumpus ’an see jes how taken she is.”

  One of the men in back nodded and motioned for a few of the others to follow him. As he did so, Tarja holstered her pistol and unzipped the front of her space suit.

  “Gramercy! Hold on, Rüdiger,” said Horatio. “Might wanna wait fer this. Decided to offer somethin’ a little more visually appealin’ in trade?”

  “Something like that.” Tarja pulled open the front flaps of her suit and reached down to her belt. When she drew her hand out, she held a metal sphere about the size of an apple. She pressed a latch and the front of it pulsed with a red light.

  “Good lord, woman, what are you doing?” said Uche.

  “Know what this is?” asked Tarja. “M60 twenty megajoule combination tactical concussion and EMP grenade. It won’t destroy your ship, but it should leave a nice hole in its belly. The cleanup wouldn’t be any fun, I imagine.”

  Horatio’s face darkened, and he took another step forward. “Listen ’ere ye’s skraggin’ two-faced daughter of an asteroid-miner. I don’a know how ye’s lot found me, but right now I don’t skraggin’ care. I’s tried to be nice. Seven attacks now and I’s yet to murder one of ye’s skraggers, much as I’s wanted to after ye’s spaced a handful of my men. Seven! An’ this is the thanks I get? What, ye’s think I won’t tempt fate? Skrag causality an’ consequences! Ye’s wanna skrag with me? Get ready to taste the muzzle’s fire.”