by Jake Elwood
Jerry glanced at Lark, gritting his teeth to remind himself not to speak out loud. The freighter would have no trouble picking up the suit radios at this range. Lark handed him a shoulder bag with a wire trailing from it and nodded. She looked frightened, and he reached out and squeezed her shoulder. She gripped his wrist for a long moment, then nodded again and let go.
He stared across at the freighter. There was simply no way to know how good their cameras and scanners were, or how much attention they were paying. If it was a proper warship, this trick wouldn't have a chance. These were sailors and gunmen, though, not navy personnel. They had a modified civilian ship. They couldn't be prepared for everything.
Well, he'd known when he got into bounty hunting that it came with no guarantees. Hoping fervently that Cassie was keeping everyone's attention focused on her, he lifted himself out of his seat, floated back to the open hatch, braced his feet on the hull, and kicked off.
They greeted Cassie with a stun shot. She collapsed, holding in a moan, and a couple of mercenaries grabbed her by the arms. She wasn't unconscious, but she faked it. The suit seemed to have absorbed some of the energy from the shot.
It was a short walk to the bridge of the ship. The mercenaries dropped Cassie face-down on the deck, and someone pulled the backpack from her shoulders. She heard a zipper and some rustling sounds. Then a rough foot turned her over.
A gray-haired woman stood over her, flanked by a pair of mercenaries. The woman was about sixty, with lines in her face shaped more by scowling than by smiling. Greta Armstrong, Cassie assumed. She held the black sphere in her hand. "What the hell is this?"
Cassie moaned. She wasn't sure if she could have spoken clearly or not, but she wanted time to recover. So she moved her lips feebly and let out a long, inarticulate groan. She flopped her hands against the deck plates for emphasis.
"Oh, for – somebody give her a stim shot."
One of the mercenaries took a small red cube from a pouch on his belt. He knelt and pressed the cube against Cassie's cheek. She felt a sharp pain, and then waves of fire swept through her body. Every muscle burned, and she cried out as her back arched and her head twisted back.
A moment later, it was over. The mercenary put the cube away, and Armstrong prodded Cassie with her toe. "The ball," she said, holding up the black sphere. "What does it do?"
"It's part of the key," Cassie said, trying to sound dull and defeated. "The key doesn't work without it."
Armstrong's eyes sharpened. "How does it work?"
"Hard to explain. I can show you?"
"Nice try." Armstrong turned to a man in a blue uniform standing at the front of the bridge. "Captain! Bring the other two over." She looked down at Cassie. "You seem to care about them. I think we better hang onto them until I'm sure you've told me everything."
There was a data port next to the airlock. There were openings for water and air and power, too. If he'd had a bomb, Jerry could have destroyed the ship from within. He didn't have a bomb, though. All he had was Roger. He took the trailing wire from the shoulder bag, plugged it into the data port, and took the bag off his shoulder.
Nothing happened. Well, it would take time. There was nothing he could achieve here except to call attention to what he'd done, so he kicked off and drifted back to the Argo.
There was no way to tell if Cassie's mad plan would work, or if any of them would survive if it did. Not many AIs would be able to achieve anything ported into a ship like that, but Cassie had optimized Roger for burglary and safe-cracking. Taking over a ship was far from easy, but Roger at least had a chance. How big a chance, Jerry didn't know. But a chance.
"Take us back to the planet as soon as you've got the prisoners on board," Armstrong said. "Have you got them?"
The captain glanced up, looking harried. "Not yet. Some kind of computer glitch." He glanced at the windows, which were nearly black. "I think it's the heat. The ship's not made for hanging out this close to a star." A buzzer sounded, and he turned his attention to the bridge controls.
"Leave them if you need to," Armstrong said. "We have what we really need."
The captain tapped buttons, then made an exasperated sound. "Hal," he said, "what's wrong with my station?" He tapped a few more buttons. "Hal? Hal, respond."
Armstrong put the sphere back into the backpack, then grunted as she tried to lift the bag. She set it back down and turned to the nearest mercenary. "Get this under lock and key." To the other mercenary she said, "Chuck this woman in the brig."
The mercenary was reaching for Cassie when the gravity went out.
She brought her legs up and kicked out, and sent the man spinning toward the ceiling of the bridge. A quick shove with her hands sent her drifting toward the second mercenary. He was flailing with both hands, reaching for the nearest bulkhead, the backpack drifting forgotten beside him. Cassie's hands closed on the backpack. An instant later, Armstrong's hands locked onto Cassie's wrist.
The ship's engines hummed, the lights dimmed, and the captain, his voice panicky, said, "Hal! Why are we moving toward the star?"
"That’s mine," said Armstrong.
Cassie drew back her free arm and punched the woman in the face. Her knuckles made contact with satisfying force, the impact jolting her clear up to her shoulder. Armstrong let go and flew backward. Cassie floated the other way, her shoulders bumping the bulkhead behind her. It was actually the deck, she noted absently. Not that it mattered in zero gee.
There was one chance for survival. It was a tiny chance, but with the ship about to plunge into the sun, she'd take it. She dragged the cube and the egg out of the backpack. Ignoring the sphere, she fumbled the egg against the cube, trying to make it connect.
She didn't know how big the field was that the Ancients had created. The cube and sphere had done nothing back on Elander Nine. Did the field extend beyond the planet? Would it extend this far? It hardly seemed likely, but it was the only chance she had.
"Drop it." The mercenary was floating free, rotating gently, the pistol in his hands pointed at her head. "I'll kill you," he said. "Drop it now."
A moment later he had to move the gun aside as Armstrong swarmed into his line of fire. She was thrashing the air with her hands, her fingers curled into claws, her mouth a snarl of rage. "Give that to me," she howled. "Give it to me, it's mine!"
Her fingers were a centimeter from the cube when the egg finally clicked into place.
The visor on Cassie's helmet snapped down as she dropped out of phase. The ball of light was a big one, encompassing the entire bridge. The translucent ship rushed past, and she floated in empty space.
The captain was with her, and both mercenaries, and Armstrong. All of them were dying. She watched without pity as Armstrong kicked and thrashed and went still. Every loose object on the bridge was there as well, PADs and guns and a coffee cup and somebody's jacket. Another body floated past, a young woman Cassie had never seen before. She must have been just beyond one of the bulkheads. She would be spared a few minutes of terror as the ship plunged toward a fiery doom.
Cassie decided she'd seen enough. She pulled the egg loose from the cube, then let go of both artifacts. They would reach the sun far behind the freighter, but reach it they would. The doomsday weapon was finally, permanently out of reach.
"Cassie? Can you hear me?" Jerry's voice came from the radio speaker in her helmet.
"I'm here," she said. "Are you guys all right?"
"We're fine. Hang on. We're coming to get you."
"Don't take any unnecessary chances."
"Oh, shut up," he said cheerfully. "We're already here."
She didn't turn around right away. She could make out the freighter as a dark spot against the flaming disk of the star. "Roger," she said. "Can you hear me, buddy?"
"Yes, Cassie."
"I'm sorry you had to sacrifice yourself. I'll miss you."
"Thank you, Cassie. That's kind." The last word broke up into static, and Roger went silent.
&
nbsp; Jerry's strong hands closed on her shoulders from behind, and he pulled her back into the cabin of the Argo.
CHAPTER 28
The villa stood on its own near the edge of a cliff. When the sun was setting the view across the western desert was magnificent. Just now the sun was down. Cassie sat on the deck, enjoying the cool evening air and drinking in the sight of the stars. Zemoth had almost no pollution, and a ridge of rock blocked most of the light from the nearby town, so the Milky Way was glorious.
The house was dark behind her, except for a lit window on the second floor. There was nothing to interfere with her view of the sky. She was beginning to learn the local constellations, something she hadn't done since she was a kid on Bruma. Cristobal was permanently clouded over, and there wasn't any other place she'd stayed long enough to start getting used to the sky.
So she let her eyes drift from star to star and told herself she was content in her new life. Enough fragments remained from her one-time fortune to make her modestly wealthy on Zemoth. It was a cheap place to live. She didn't have to work again if she didn't want to. She'd been here four months, and the place was getting comfortable.
Dull, if she was perfectly honest with herself. But comfortable.
"You have a call, Cassie. It's Constable Holcroft."
She sighed. "Take a message, Mike." Mycroft was the house AI. He was a far cry from Roger, but he was good enough at running the villa.
"Would you like to hear the message?"
"All right."
A man's voice came over the speakers, a warm, strong voice that she normally found quite pleasant. Just now it had a hint of a whine that set her teeth on edge. "Cassie? It's Morren. I was really hoping to talk to you. I had a lot of fun the other night. I was hoping we could get together again." There was a long pause, during which she could hear him breathing nasally. "Anyway, give me a call back. Any time you like."
Cassie shook her head. Morren was nice enough, but he bored her. And the idea of dating a law-enforcement officer was ludicrous, even if she was going straight these days. Part of her wanted to brush him off, but the truth was, he was the most dynamic, interesting man in town. That might not be saying much, but if she was going to be staying here for a long time, she could certainly do worse.
The truth, if she dared to admit it to herself, was that she kept comparing him to Jerry. He was a few centimeters taller, but in every other way he fell short.
She hadn't seen the bounty hunter since before she'd come to Zemoth. He was out there somewhere, living his life. "Probably dead by now," she muttered. "The big oaf."
"I beg your pardon?" said Mycroft.
"Nothing, Mike."
For the hundredth time she thought about doing what Jerry was doing. Leaving Zemoth, leaving Lark, throwing off the stifling shackles of this sleepy life and returning to the stars. For the hundredth time she realized that leaving Lark behind was a price she was no longer willing to pay.
The life of an interstellar bandit was exciting, but the thrills, the money, the adrenaline, it was all fleeting. Meaningless, once the job was over. Watching Lark grow, watching her learn, seeing her lose the shadow of fear that she'd been living under, watching her become more confident, seeing the nightmares become less and less frequent – that was magical. It was every bit as addictive as danger and excitement had ever been. She couldn’t give it up.
"Mike?"
"Yes, Cassie?"
"Is Lark still in her room?"
"Yes."
"And is she actually doing her homework?"
"It seems unlikely," the AI said. "Miss Lark is connected to three separate entertainment feeds at the moment."
"Thank you, Mike." Cassie rose and turned toward the sliding glass doors to the villa. Lark was almost as bored as Cassie, she knew. Still, skipping her studies in favor of holo feeds was no solution. Cassie stepped into the dark house.
A floorboard creaked in the kitchen.
Cassie froze. Actual wooden joists and flooring had been a major selling point according to her realtor. It was supposed to make the villa seem more natural, more alive. It brought other, unexpected advantages, though.
Like creaking boards that told her when someone was in the next room.
Lark was upstairs. There was no one else living in the villa.
Cassie stepped silently out of her shoes. Her pistol was locked in a drawer in her bedroom upstairs. The only other weapons she could think of were the knives in the kitchen. Well, she had hands and feet, didn't she? She thought of asking Mycroft to call the police, but the last thing she needed was Morren barging in. No, she'd handle this herself.
A good fistfight might be just what she needed to break her out of her funk.
There were two entrances to the kitchen, one to her left, one to her right. She crept to the left, fumbling in her pocket for a coin. She found a half-cred piece and tossed it toward the right-side kitchen doorway. As the coin clattered against the wall she sprang through the left-side doorway and into the kitchen.
An arm swept her sideways, a foot caught her ankle and tripped her, and she found herself pinned to the wall, clutching a thick forearm to keep from falling.
"Mycroft," said a familiar voice, "lights."
The kitchen lights came on, and Cassie stared into Jerry's smirking face. "Hello, Cassie. Are you glad to see me?"
"Jerry!" She glared at him. "I'm going to kick your ass through the wall!" The threat would have been more credible if she wasn't still hanging from his arm.
He chuckled. "I'm disappointed by your reaction, but I can't say I'm surprised. It's good to see you, Cassie." He stepped back, and she got her feet under her. "You look good. Domestic life agrees with you."
He looked good too. His hair was shorter, and he had a deep tan. He seemed to be wearing the same scruffy clothes he'd worn back on Liman Three. It was, she realized, incredibly good to see him, but she wasn't going to let him know that.
"Jerry!" Lark was a blur of motion, hurling herself through the kitchen to crash against Jerry's stomach. She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed for all she was worth.
Jerry turned a bit pink as he put an arm around her shoulders and patted her. "Heya, kid. I missed you."
Lark didn't answer, just burst into tears and squeezed harder. Jerry was looking a little misty-eyed himself. "See, now that's the way to greet a man," he said to Cassie with a self-conscious grin.
"Hmph."
Lark let go, stepped back, wiped her cheeks, and smiled up at Jerry. Then she looked at Cassie, and her expression turned thoughtful. She looked at Jerry again, then said, "I'll be upstairs." Without another word she turned and left the kitchen.
Cassie watched her go, mystified.
"Smart kid," Jerry said. There was a tone in his voice Cassie hadn't heard before.
She stared up at him, hardly able to believe he was there in her kitchen. There was something incredibly right about having him there. A dam seemed to crumble and break inside of her, letting loose a wave of emotion that she'd been suppressing and denying for far too long. She stepped forward, put her arms around him, and squeezed.
His hands went to her back, and he held her gently. His voice was hoarse as he said, "See, now you're getting the hang of it."
"Shut up," she mumbled. For some reason she wanted to cry. She let go of him, leaned back to look up at him, and smiled. He smiled back, and she kissed him. The villa, the planet, the galaxy disappeared for a time.
When she had to take a breath she broke away and leaned back again. His arms were around her waist now. It felt good. It felt right. There was a worried crease between his eyes, though.
"What is it?" she asked.
He looked around at the villa, then back at her. "I'm not sure I'm really cut out for this. Peaceful life. Domesticity."
"That's all right. I'm not sure it's right for me, either."
"So if we were to, say, take on a small job or two, in a nearby system…"
"That'd be okay with me,"
Cassie said.
"Me too," said Lark from somewhere close by.
"You brat. You're supposed to be upstairs." She looked up at Jerry. "Oh, never mind."
And she kissed him again.
FROM THE AUTHOR
Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear your comments.
Go to http://jakeelwoodwriter.com to leave me a note or to learn about other stories, or sign up for my newsletter to hear about new releases. I can be reached by email at [email protected].
Star Raider Season 2 is available now.
If you enjoyed Star Raider you'll love the voyages of the Stark Raven, beginning with Escape from Enceladus.
James Chan, stuck shovelling sludge on a space station, has bet every penny on a desperate gamble. With three other misfits he's taken an abandoned lifeboat and gone flying over the rings of Saturn looking for a derelict ship he can claim for salvage.
Instead, he finds the Stark Raven. It's a pirate ship, and it seems abandoned. Chan and his crew move in and make repairs, but the pirates aren't quite done with the Raven.
Add in a mysterious base on a frozen moon and a shadowy corporation that will kill to keep their secrets, and Chan quickly realizes he's in over his head. Now a man who's quite good at running from his problems will have to face mercenaries, monsters, and betrayal from within his crew.
If he's lucky, Chan will just be stranded in deep space. If he's not, he and his crew will die a cold and lonely death on Enceladus.
Table of Contents
Heist on Hesperus
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
A Dangerous Bounty
