Shadowrise (Shadows of the Void Space Opera Serial Book 4)

by J. J. Green

  When he’d first known her, she’d been a crush of his, but the woman had been so wrapped up in doing her job, she’d barely seemed to register that he existed. Dealing with the Shadow officers aboard the Galathea had brought them closer together, and he’d felt like he was getting to know the inner Harrington a bit better.

  But then she’d grown close to a lieutenant stationed on Dawn. He’d backed off, assuming that he’d imagined her increasing feelings toward him. After she’d killed the Shadow of the lieutenant, however, it had been him she’d turned to in her confusion and grief.

  The truth was, he had no idea where he stood with her.

  The autocab was turning off the street, and a wide garage door lifted up, revealing the entrance to an underground carpark. Carl leaned back as the vehicle’s nose dipped and it went down into the dark space. The cab halted abruptly next to an elevator and the doors popped open.

  “This is it,” Harrington said. “Don’t forget your stuff.”

  “You do live close to the spaceport.”

  The woman shrugged as they went into the elevator. “It’s convenient. I usually signup again pretty quick after finishing a mission.”

  The conversation lapsed and the awkwardness continued as they went up thirty floors.

  After getting off the elevator, Harrington pressed her wrist to the door scanner, and the door opened. “It’s small, but I don’t need much,” she said as they went in.

  She wasn’t joking that it was small, Carl thought. He put down his bag. He’d heard that space was at a premium in London, but Harrington’s apartment was so small it would have fitted into his parents’ living room. The place reminded him of a starship cabin. The bed, kitchen, and living area were combined, and a single door led to the shower room. The place was clean and tidy, and it didn’t look poor, but it had an institutional feel to it. Someone had told him once that Harrington had grown up in a government orphanage, and the gossip rang true now that he saw how she lived.

  “Are you hungry?” asked Harrington. “We can order something.”

  “No, I’m not. How about you?”

  “No.” She sat on the bed.

  “So...I’m pretty bushed,” Carl said. “I’ll take the couch.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  Did she sound disappointed?

  “I’m going to freshen up,” Harrington said. She went into the shower room.

  Carl got Flux out of his bag. The creature remained sound asleep. He put him on the end of the couch and covered him with a throw. While waiting for Harringon to finish, he looked out of her window and across the cityscape. Rivers of light marked the roads and freeways. No stars were visible due to their glow.

  At the nearby spaceport, a shuttle was arriving from a starship, and Carl squinted in its glare as it landed. When the engines had been shut off, he recognized it was the latest model. He’d never flown one, but that no longer mattered. His eyes were on higher stakes. He was looking forward to his first starship commission.

  Behind him, the door to the shower room opened, and Harrington appeared. She’d changed into loose pajamas and her hair was damp and messy from towel drying. Her sleepwear was typical Harrington—more functional than feminine—yet his long-time attraction to her remained the same.

  “Your turn,” she said.

  He went into the shower room and mulled over what he should do as he got ready for bed. He was confused. Should he make a move? Was that why she’d brought him home? Or was she only doing a shipmate a favor? Harrington wasn’t the flirtatious type. He found her hard to read.

  If he tried something and the timing wasn’t right, he might kill any chance he had of getting closer to her. He recalled again how shaken up she’d been by killing the Shadow of the soldier she’d got close to on Dawn. That decided it. He would wait for a crystal-clear signal before he would try to take things any further. She had to still be pretty upset by that incident.

  Carl returned to the living room. Harrington was already in bed. They said goodnight, and after she’d turned out the light and dimmed the window to near darkness, he lay awake for a while, watching the faint trails of light from incoming and outgoing space shuttles shining through the glass. Memories of their encounters with Shadows played in his mind, as well as thoughts about the possible repercussions of the upcoming investigation. Concerns about Haggardy’s possible methods for getting revenge also nagged at him.

  From the sound of her breathing, he could tell Harrington was still awake.

  “Have you thought about what you’re going to tell them at the investigation tomorrow?” he asked.

  “No. What’s to think about? I’ll tell them what happened of course.”

  “Yeah, but...I’ve been thinking about what Haggardy said. Do you think he can really do something serious if we don’t go along with his story?”

  “I don’t know. Does it matter?” Harrington asked.

  “It matters to me. Flying’s my life. I dunno what I’d do if he got my license revoked.”

  Harrington’s soft sigh breathed out into the night. “We don’t have a choice. We have to tell the truth, no matter what. Haggardy’s a real misborn. We can’t let him get away with it. It wouldn’t be right. If he’d done something when I warned him about Loba, maybe none of those officers would have died.”

  “I’m not disagreeing, but what’s done’s done. And that was his last mission. He’s retiring now. He’s not a danger to anyone anymore.”

  “Krat, Lingiari,” Harrington replied, her voice rising, “I can’t believe you’re even saying that. You were with me there on the Galathea, right? You did know all those officers too?”

  “All right, calm down. I was just thinking out loud. Geez.”

  Harrington mumbled something inaudible, and her sheets rustled. She didn’t speak again. After a while, her breathing became deep and regular as she fell asleep.

  Chapter Three

  “Thank you for your time, Pilot Lingiari,” said the chief investigator, extending his hand.

  Carl sat up from his slouched position and reached to take the man’s hand. He was in front of a team of five investigators, and he’d been there so long he’d lost track of time. “That’s it? I can go?” His throat ached from answering the men and women’s questions, and his head buzzed from going over the events on K. 67092d again and again.

  The questioning had felt more like an interrogation than an investigation. He was glad he’d told them nothing but the truth according to his memory of the events. He would never have been able to keep track of Haggardy’s lies if he’d decided to go along with the man’s story.

  “Yes, we have no more questions for you at the moment,” said the investigator. He glanced at his colleagues on his right and left as he spoke. All of them shook their heads.

  “Great.” Carl stood and stretched.

  “But, until the investigation is concluded, you are not to leave Earth,” added the man.

  “What?” Carl stopped mid-stretch and deflated a little. “How long’s it gonna take? I mean, I’m a deep space pilot. I’ve gotta leave Earth to work.”

  “We understand. The investigation shouldn’t take too long. I’m afraid I can’t promise you anything more than that, however. We’ll notify you when we reach our final conclusions.”

  “Great,” Carl repeated with less enthusiasm. He took his jacket from the back of his chair and made his way out of the Global Security Headquarters. It was nighttime. He’d been answering questions the whole day. He checked the time and realized that he might make the last shuttle to Sydney if he hurried.

  He requested an autocab on his interface and waited for it to arrive. It would be a close thing to make the shuttle flight, but after a day of talking about Shadows, fighting, and death, he had a strong urge to set eyes on his aging parents and his childhood home again.

  The shuttle would be worth the extra expense to feel the hot Australian sun on his back again the next day. Outback New South Wales was worlds better than mugg
y, humid, polluted London.

  He opened his bag. “We’re going home, mate,” he said to Flux, who was inside, eating a cracker.

  “About bloody time,” replied the creature. “I’ve been in this kratting bag nearly two days. I need to stretch my wings.”

  Flux wasn’t the friendliest of aliens at the best of times, but he’d only had an hour or so of flying outside Harrington’s window that morning, and the creature’s grumpiness was only to be expected.

  Carl jumped into the autocab that arrived, and he jumped out of it again at the spaceport. He ran through the terminal to make the shuttle, and soon he was strapped in and waiting to take off.

  Night changed to dawn as he flew to Australia. The sun was coming up over Bondi when the shuttle touched down. Carl had managed a short nap on the flight, but his eyes were heavy and gritty by the time he hired a car at Sydney spaceport. He told the car the address of his parents’ farm beyond the Blue Mountains and settled down to catch up on his sleep while it took him there.

  As his eyes closed, he imagined his parents’ surprise when he turned up months earlier than expected. His mum wouldn’t have cooked his favorite meal, as had become a homecoming tradition since he’d first left home to go to flight school, but it didn’t matter. He was smiling as he fell asleep imagining the happiness on his mum’s face when she set eyes on him.

  The pinging of the rental car door opening awakened him. On the adjoining seat, Flux had unzipped Carl’s bag from the inside. His brown button nose poked out first, followed by black, beady eyes and large, tufted ears.

  “Wake up, idiot, we’re home,” he said as he climbed out of the bag and spread his wings. “Ah, that’s better,” he said before jumping over Carl and through the open door. “I’m off to catch some breakfast. Say hi to your folks. I’ll see you guys later.” The alien flew off, gaining height to fly over the eucalypts that edged Carl’s parents’ farm.

  Carl grabbed his bag and closed the car door. He would leave it in the road. The farm was in an area that saw little more than local traffic. He went toward the farmhouse, which stood at the end of a driveway. Though it was still early morning, he was a little surprised his folks hadn’t come out to greet him. His mum and dad were usually up with the sun. Maybe they were already out in the yard or working in the fields.

  He went up the driveway and around the back of the house. Only delivery drones used the front door. No one was in the yard. He tried the back door, but it was locked. Carl’s hand dropped in surprise. The back door was never locked. He stepped backward and peered at the upper floors of the house. His parents’ bedroom window glass was clear, which meant they were up.

  Returning to the house, he looked in the downstairs windows, cupping his hands around his eyes. All the downstairs rooms at the back were empty, and in the kitchen there were no signs that breakfast had taken place. He knocked on the back door. No one answered. After three or four more tries, he went out into the yard again and shouted up, “Mum, Dad.”

  He ran around the house to the front, but that door was locked too.

  Carl decided to investigate the barn. If his parents were out working in the fields, equipment would be missing. But when he checked, everything seemed to be in its place. He wondered if they could have gone for a walk around the farm. It was possible, but why would they lock the door?

  A terrible fear rose in Carl. He tried to quell it with reasoning. He tried to tell himself that his parents might have gone away to visit a relative, or they might have had another reason for leaving their cherished farm, but he couldn’t convince himself that something wasn’t very wrong.

  He needed some help. Carl tilted back his head, put his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Cooee.” The sound echoed back from the farmhouse and surrounding trees. A few minutes later, Flux appeared over a wattle tree and glided down to land on Carl’s head before hopping onto his shoulder.

  “Something’s up, right?” Flux asked.

  “You noticed?” said Carl. “I was gonna ask if you’d seen Mum or Dad about the place.”

  “Nope. Haven’t seen them anywhere, and what’s more, look around you, mate.”

  Carl went up a low rise, and gazed at the fields, the yard, and the house. His alien friend was right. The farm looked as though no one had been there in weeks. In his concern over his missing parents, he hadn’t noticed that the house windows were grimy with red dust—something his dad would never have tolerated—and that the yard was thick with dead leaves and other plant debris that had blown in from the fields.

  And the fields themselves—where was that year’s crop? The ground should have been filled with green shoots at that time of year, but it looked as though it hadn’t even been sown. A hard crust covered the land. The soil hadn’t been tilled since the previous season’s harvest. How long had his parents been away?

  Carl’s legs felt weak. He sat down right there in the cobbled yard, fear gripping him. He took his interface from his bag, and with trembling fingers he called the nearest neighbor. Mrs. Jesson had been friends with his parents all his life. If anyone would know where they were it would be her.

  The neighbor answered, and her voice became full of sorrow and concern the second she recognized Carl’s voice.

  “Oh, love, I’m sorry. I thought you might know where they are.”

  “What? Have they gone missing? How long has it been?”

  “Come over, Carl, and I’ll tell you everything I know. It isn’t right to talk about it over the phone.”

  “All right. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Carl jogged the kilometer over the fields to the neighbor’s house, dreading to hear what she had to say. She was standing at her open door, waiting for him.

  “What’s going on, Mrs. Jesson?” asked Carl as he wiped his feet on her doormat. Flux was perched on his shoulder. As Carl went inside, the creature took off and circled the room twice before settling on the top of a display cabinet holding the woman’s prized blue heeler ornaments collection. Flux was never normally allowed inside Mrs. Jesson’s home as he’d never quite embraced house training, but she must have felt the occasion warranted an exception.

  “Carl, dear, please sit down. You really don’t have any idea where Bernard and Joyce have gone? We searched high and low for them. We told the police, and we locked the place up so nothing got stolen. It was lucky they gave up raising horses. It looked like they’d been gone two or three days before anyone realized.” Reading Carl’s expression, the older woman began to weep. “I’m so sorry. You were our last hope.”

  “Mrs. Jesson, what’s happened to my parents?”

  “Dearie, I don’t know how to tell you this. Your mum and dad have been missing for three months. The police sent a message to your company to pass on. Didn’t it get through?”

  Chapter Four

  When Sayen Lee woke up, she knew something was wrong. She tried to make sense of the feeling. Then, as always, the realization hit as her memory returned. She’d been injured in the crash-landing on K. 67092d, and now all that remained of her mind was trapped within a brain that no longer controlled her body. Machines were keeping her heart beating and her lungs breathing. She was in stasis, and though she could think, hear, and speak, she was otherwise entirely cut off from the world.

  Except...except...Sayen could feel. She was lying on sheets, and air moved gently on her skin. Her heart began to race. A beeping sounded.

  “She’s coming around,” said an unfamiliar voice.

  “Sayen, oh, Sayen,” said another voice. Her mama. It was her mother speaking. The events of the last few days came flooding back to her. Could she...move? Was it possible...? Sayen had grown so used to not being able to open her eyes that she had to make a conscious effort to do it. She willed her eyelids to lift. A blur of indistinguishable shapes and light came into her view.

  Footsteps sounded beside her, moving away. A door opened. “Craven,” her mother called. “Get in here. She’s woken up. Our baby’s awake.”
<
br />   The footsteps returned.

  Sayen forced her lips and voice box to work. “M...mama?” Her voice was no more than a whisper.

  “Oh, sweetheart.” Her mother’s voice broke. The door opened again. More footsteps sounded, heavier and firmer than her mother’s.

  “Sayen, darlin’,” said her father, “now don’t you try to move or say a thing. The nurse has called the doctor, and she’ll be here any minute. It’s a miracle, Carleen, a miracle.”

  The shapes Sayen saw were becoming more defined by the second. They were multi-colored tiles, lined with thin light strips. But the lights weren’t on. Her vision was filled with sunlight. The sound of her mother’s sniffles was coming from her right-hand side, and the window was to her left.

  Sayen felt like crying herself. The operation had been a success. The genetics team had grown her a new body, and they’d taken all the knowledge, memories, and personality contained in her old brain and transferred it to the new one. She’d survived. She would move, eat, speak, live again.

  After Dr. Sparks had told her about her accident, and that it would be a long time before the Galathea could return to Earth, if ever, she’d thought she was living a kind of half-death, and that her real demise was only delayed a little. It had been good, of course, to talk to Carl and Jas and others aboard the ship, and to help out with their problems, but she’d given up on any chance that she might be saved.

  Yet here she was, in a brand new body. And not only was it brand new, but it was also enhanced. She’d been fitted with the latest in organic-synthetic technology. She didn’t only have a new body, she had a better one.

  The door opened again. “Hi, Sayen. I’m Doctor Evans, and I’m in charge of your treatment. Do you remember me? We had a long talk before we attempted the transfer. Now, I don’t want you to say a thing. Just close your eyes once for yes, twice for no, okay?

  “So, how’re you feeling, sugar? You feeling okay?”