by T. R. Harris
“Who knows what?”
“Who knows what will happen.”
“But we can keep the credits already given?”
“They’re non-refundable, so yeah.” Adam yawned. “I’m going back to bed now. Keep me informed. I don’t want Maris-Kliss or any of the others to get the bright idea to hold the Colony Ship hostage for the collector.”
“No, that would not be welcome.”
Adam cut the link. He sat staring at the screen in a groggy haze. This assignment had become way too complicated for his liking, even for the money. Why couldn’t it have been a simple recover job? Instead….
He noticed a small flashing light on the console, indicating a recorded message. It hadn’t come from the outside; that would have shown up in the CW cue. He pushed the play button.
Angar’s serious face appeared; Adam thought he was in the common room. Why leave a message? The recording began.
“This message is for Riyad Tarazi, the self-proclaimed general of the Fringe Pirates from the past. Please retrieve him before proceeding with this message.”
Adam left the bridge to search for the Nimorian to ask him about the recording. He wasn’t in the common room or anywhere else he searched, and his pod was gone from the landing bay. This didn’t feel right. Adam returned to the bridge to play the rest of the message, in spite of Angar’s request that Riyad be present.
“I have spent many a standard year tolerating the obstinate and condescending nature of your relationship with me and the pirates. Even now, you reappear and assume control of my fleet as if no time has passed. Yes, you are a savage Human and as such many of my crew and others have acquiesced to your demands. But no more. I am severing my ties with you, Riyad, and in a most-dramatic fashion. I have evacuated my pirates from your ship and placed a bomb aboard. The explosion will destroy not only you, but Adam Cain as well. Do not attempt to run. Through use of a double trigger system, the timer has already begun. The first was when you entered Cain’s ship; the second trigger is now, at this point in the recording. You have twenty seconds to live. And one other thing, I have taken the dark matter collector and will sell it to Maris-Kliss. Riyad Tarazi, your defeat is now complete.”
The screen went blank.
Adam panicked, rushing to the pilot’s seat to begin powering up the ship. They were in dark status, so it would take at least three minutes to get the chemical engines on line and ready to carry them away.
But then it dawned on him. The twenty seconds had already past…and no explosion.
The triggers! Both hadn’t been tripped.
The first trigger would be Riyad coming to Adam’s ship; the second the recording. Riyad was still aboard his ship, so the triggering sequences had been reversed. The twenty seconds wouldn’t start until Riyad entered his ship.
Adam hoped Riyad was a sound sleeper and not wandering the corridors, looking to pay his old friend Adam a visit.
He let the power-up sequence continue. There may be a way out of this.
Adam nearly jumped out of his skin when Copernicus appeared at the door to the bridge, dressed only in boxer shorts and running a hand through his bed-head hair.
“I heard the generators revving up. What’s going on?”
“Don’t panic, but Angar placed a bomb on Riyad’s ship. He’s also taken the dark matter collector.”
Coop was instantly awake. “Don’t panic? What the hell are you talking about? This is the perfect time to panic. That fucking alien bastard! I’ll rip him apart—”
“First things first. Wake up Sherri. We need to get Riyad off his ship before it blows.”
“How long do we have?”
“There’s a trigger set to trip when Riyad crosses over. After that we’ll have twenty seconds to get away.”
Copernicus was silent for a moment as he worked the scenario through in his head. “And you’re going to let Riyad trip it? Why not just say sorry about your luck and call it a day? We could be gone in about a minute from now without ever triggering the bomb.”
Adam frowned. He knew Copernicus was cold-blooded, but damn. Would he have made the same suggestion if it were Adam on the other ship? He already knew the answer: Of course he would.
“You’re not serious, right?” Adam asked.
Coop shook his head. “Not really, just looking for options. I’ll go wake up Sherri.”
Sherri—like both Coop and Adam—showed up on the bridge dressed only in her underwear. Her eyes were wide with fright.
“Can we do this? Why hasn’t the bomb gone off?”
“I played the video before Riyad set off the first trigger. Lucky I did. But now we have to be in position to recover Riyad, dog the hatch and then sprint out of here, all in twenty seconds.”
Sherri looked at the power meter. The ship was almost fully charged and ready to go. Adam had the chemical pressure building so when the jets lit off they would get a major boost. All they needed now was Riyad.
“You two get to the airlock. As soon Riyad is in, close the hatch and let me know. I’m going to wake him up now.”
Using his ADT, Adam contacted Riyad’s brain-interface device. He thought as powerfully as he could, essentially yelling into Riyad’s mind.
What the hell? Riyad thought. That’s rude, even for you, asshole.
Listen up, Riyad, we have a situation. Adam could sense Riyad’s attention being focused completely on the mental conversation. Angar has placed a bomb aboard your ship. A twenty-second timer will activate as soon as you cross the umbilical. I have my ship powered up and ready to go, but you’re going to have to get across as fast as you can.
Understood. I’ll cut the gravity here. Then I’ll push off and fly across. That might be fastest.
I’ll cut the internals here, too. That way you can fly all the way. Activate the inner and outer doors with your ATD in case the trigger is in the airlock.
The doors won’t trigger the timer?
I doubt it. Angar wanted you to see a video before the bomb goes off. He would want to make sure you crossed over and not simply opened the doors.
A video?
If we survive, I’ll show it to you. It’s classic betrayal, you’ll love it. But right now, get in position. Sherri and Coop are on the other side waiting for you. It’s going to be a mad dash after you’ve made it over.
Roger that. I’ll stay in touch.
“I’m cutting the internals,” Adam announced to those in the airlock. “Riyad is getting ready. He’s going to fly over in the zero G.”
“The hatch is open and we’re ready. We can see the outer airlock door opening on his side.”
I’m ready. Riyad said within Adam’s mind. Going in three.
“He’s coming. Get ready.”
Riyad was floating halfway up a wall, holding onto a rail with his legs coiled.
Three, two, one…go!
He pushed off, flying like Superman through the airlock and into the umbilical tunnel connecting the two ships. It was forty feet long, and he passed through half of it without a problem. But his aim was slightly off, and without any way of controlling his flight, he scrapped against the plastic side of the tube, spinning around and slowing down.
There were small handholds along the inner surface and Riyad struggled to grab hold of them and propel his body forward again. Coop saw he was having trouble and jumped into the tunnel, using the grips like a jungle-gym until he reached his stranded friend. He took hold of Riyad with one hand and pulled a ring with the other. Both men began to move toward Sherri and the open airlock door.
She helped pull both of them in the rest of the way. A split second later the hatch was closed and long locking lever dogged down.
“They’re in!” she yelled. “Go.”
Adam pressed the button igniting the chemical drive and the Gracilian ship took off, putting distance between them and the pirate vessel.
The only problem…they weren’t.
Adam nearly fainted when he looked at an external monitor
and saw that the umbilical tube was still intact and pulling Riyad’s bomb-laden ship along with them. He twisted the course of the ship, angling it so that the rear exhaust was aimed at the pirate Marauder. Finally the connection broke. A moment later Riyad’s ship exploded.
They were only twenty miles away at the time, but it was far enough. The bomb wasn’t very powerful, just enough to destroy two ships linked only feet apart. Adam cut the chemical drive and let the spacecraft coast along at eighteen thousand miles per hour.
Riyad appeared on the bridge, feeling right at home dressed only in a pair of European-style briefs. The four Humans displayed no embarrassment with their attire—or lack of. They were just lucky to be alive.
“You say Angar did this?” Riyad asked breathlessly, his anger boiling over.
“That’s right,” Adam said. “He doesn’t like you very much; hasn’t for a long time.”
“I know that,” Riyad barked back. “That’s how you maintain discipline in a pirate outfit. You lead by intimidation.”
“Until the time your second-in-command places a bomb under your bed,” Coop commented. “And now your ex-friend has also taken the dark matter collector. He intends to sell it and take our money.” Copernicus looked at Adam. “Whether it’s a danger or not, that little hairy rodent is going to turn it over to some big ass company. After that, it will be gone forever.”
Adam had to think. Everything had happened in such a panic that he hadn’t time to work out his next move. Then it dawned on him.
“Angar probably stuck around to see if his bomb went off. Seeing that it did, he has to think were dead. Riyad, what will he do now?”
“He’ll contact someone—”
“He mentioned Maris-Kliss in his video.”
“Okay, he’ll contact MK and make a deal. He’ll want the money in cash, since bank accounts can be seized, hacked or money called back—we have first-hand knowledge of that—and especially when you’re dealing with something as big as Maris.”
“Yeah, they tried to screw us over,” Sherri confirmed. “They’re real rat-bastards.”
Riyad nodded. “Then he’ll agree to a transfer. He won’t do it in space; too great a chance MK will just swoop in and take the collector. He’ll need safe ground, someplace where he can control the setting and where he has friends.”
“Where is that?” Sherri asked. “Do the two of you have a base somewhere in the Frontier?”
“Not a base so much as a place where we sell most of our contraband. You’re familiar with it…Woken.”
The planet Woken was the unofficial capital of the Kidis Frontier, the first major world visitors came to when entering the spur of the galaxy. It was a Wild West type of place with its own set of rules. Pirates felt right at home on Woken.
“Cool,” Adam said. “This ship is a lot faster than a Marauder, so we can get there before him. Then we lay-in-wait until he shows up. I’ll contact Kaylor and have him meet us just outside the system.”
Adam stood up. “But first, I say we all change into something a little more appropriate for heroes setting out on a mission of galactic importance.”
Riyad—Sherri’s former husband…briefly—was eying her panties and bra with lurid approval. “I kinda like the uniform-of-the-day just as it is.”
“You would, pervert,” Sherri said, brushing by him a little too close on her way off the bridge.
Coop leaned over and tapped Riyad on his bare, hairy chest. “You had your chance, buddy.”
Riyad flashed a brilliant smile at the starship repairman, before winking at Adam. “We all have…pal.”
14
It took four days to make the trip to the Woken star system. Kaylor had shot past the planet on his way to meet Adam, but not by much. He turned around and was waiting in the Klin saucer a quarter-light outside the outer-most boundary of the system. He transferred over to the Gracilian ship, which Adam had subsequently named the Orion, not after the Orion-Cygnus Union, but after the constellation Orion: The Hunter. With his current occupation, he felt it appropriate.
During the transit, the Humans had time to plan more details for their mission—and they would need Kaylor to make it work. Humans were well-known throughout the galaxy; however their reputation was that of badass warriors, a danger to all who came in contact with them. There were undoubtedly more Humans on the planet, but to have four of them wandering around the area where most contraband was processed would draw attention, with word possibly filtering back to Angar and his pirates.
But Kaylor was a blue-skinned Belsonian. His race had been part of the Expansion for over two thousand years. They were common on other worlds, and more importantly, no one feared them. They could come and go as they pleased.
Adam would need Kaylor to scope out the building Riyad said would be the most-likely location for Angar to consummate the transaction. It was adjacent to a small landing field were ships with questionable cargo would land and offload their treasures. The building was where the fences and middlemen worked, buying illicitly-gained items for pennies on the dollar, and then moving them to other parts of the Frontier for resale—and profit. For the past six months Riyad and Angar had frequented the spaceport and the neighboring buildings often. They knew people there and were trusted among the natives and others who called Woken home.
Maybe Adam was being overly cautious, seeing that Angar probably thought they were dead and therefore wouldn’t be on the lookout. But there were other enemies to consider. The losing buyers would be out to steal the collector. And if word got out about how much cash was about to change hands, all bets were off. Half the planet of outlaws and scoundrels would be all over the place in a hot minute. And then there was Maris-Kliss themselves. They were the largest private organization in the galaxy. You grew that big and powerful when over ninety-percent of all hand-held weapons are made in your factories. The Expansion alone boasted eight-thousand member worlds. It had once been estimated that there was an average of three MK weapons for every civilized being in the galaxy. That was a huge number, with almost too many zeros to count.
And Maris-Kliss hadn’t grown as big as they were by playing nice…with anyone. They usually took what they wanted when they wanted it. And already the negotiations for the dark matter collector had frustrated and confounded the company officials involved. Before Angar contacted MK to finalize the sale, they—along with others—had sent ships to wait at Adam’s Klin space station. They were through playing games. If they couldn’t buy the collector, then someone would simply take it.
So Angar would be cautious. He was dealing with a whole other level of business-being, one that would squash him like a bug if they felt like it.
The plan called for the team to take the Orion to Woken and land at a small commercial spaceport on the other side of the city of Limpan-jen. It was about ten miles from the private field where Angar would land. Coop would stay with the ship and be ready to pick up the rest of the team once they had the collector. Adam, Riyad and Sherri would make their way to the roof of the building and wait for the Nimorian’s arrival. Kaylor would be in the building and track Angar to the meeting area. At this point, Kaylor would have to be careful; Angar knew him, having run across him and Jym several times within the Fringe worlds.
The Humans heading into the community would wear hooded clothing to remain unnoticed, with an ample supply of flash weapons concealed under their cloaks. It was a good plan, yet one that would undoubtedly involved a lot of shooting. Angar had a crew of thirty pirates—his crew, plus the few that had been on Riyad’s ship. Riyad had the bare minimum aboard, since most of them didn’t want to serve under him directly.
Riyad knew the maximum speed of a pirate ship, so he calculated the approximate time it would take Angar to reach Woken. The team left for the building, taking a hired transport from the commercial port to the seedy part of town where the pirates hung out. And these weren’t just Angar’s pirates. There were at least fifteen major groups operating in this part
of the Frontier, along with dozens of one-ship freelancers who picked up a little contraband here and there. It was a fragile existence for the pirates, both in this part of Limpan-jen, as well as for the lifespan of a space raider. The truth was, most pirates weren’t killed by law enforcement, but rather by other pirates or mercenaries hired by the major haulers to protect their cargos.
The team reached the building without incident, although the transport driver demanded twice the fare when he learned the destination. After dropping off the four mysterious passengers near the walls of the spaceport, he made a hasty retreat back to the safer neighborhoods of Limpan-jen.
Their target building was one of four in a cluster, with a large courtyard in the center, bordering the main thoroughfare that skirted the edge of the spaceport. At one time, the complex was probably stylish and sophisticated, attracting an upscale tenant clientele. Not any longer. Ugly black streaks of mold covered the exterior of the buildings, and most of the windows had been boarded over rather than the glass replaced when they broke. And the courtyard, that was just a small park of dirt and weeds. Occasionally someone would cut back the overgrowth, not for aesthetics, but so they could move between buildings without having to go outside the complex. Beyond this quad cluster were row upon row of barely standing warehouses. There were guards posted throughout the district to keep the goods inside from being stolen. It was cheaper to hire guards than it was to fix the broken locks on the doors.
Several groups of homeless aliens eyed the obviously healthy and well-fed newcomers as they came down the street. That meant they had money. Adam didn’t detect any energy weapons within the groups; any they may have had in the past had been sold long ago for food and drugs. No matter where one went in the galaxy, some things never changed.
The team stared down a few potential conflicts with the aliens. Just being aware of your surrounding was often a deterrent to violence. They made it around the corner of one of the buildings and found a series of drainpipes still fastened to the side. The Humans climbed to the roof, leaving Kaylor on the ground, in contact with them through his ATD.
