Ricket (Star Watch Book 2)

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  When he released him they were standing beneath the blue tarp, eighteen miles to the west. Burak lost his balance and fell on his backside, landing on one of Ricket’s big equipment lockers. Now fear replaced the smug expression on his face.

  “What … what do want from me?”

  “We’re going to have a little talk, just you and me. If I detect even the slightest measure of dishonesty, I’ll start breaking bones. Fingers, arms, legs … one by one, they’re going to break.” Jason opened his visor so Burak could more clearly see his eyes … his resolve. Burak’s body odor nearly bowled him over.

  “Start from the beginning, Burak … leave nothing out.”

  Chapter 8

  Mansan Core System

  Planet Eriok; Port City

  __________________________

  Burak had ten broken fingers, a broken arm, and a split lip. Jason watched him twitching—curled into a fetal position on the ground. Jason was disgusted with himself—with the level of violence he’d inflicted on the Eriokian engineer. But he’d gained enough information from him to know who was responsible for the abduction of Ricket, Leon, and Hanna. Jason, having retracted his battle suit several minutes earlier, now felt a cold chill, which had nothing to do with the gusty breeze flapping the overhead tarp. Could their kidnappings be the start of his worst fears coming true? Were the Caldurians, the universe’s most advanced beings, back and on the attack?

  Jason answered an incoming hail and heard Billy’s voice. “What’s up—”

  “Need your help back here!”

  Jason quickly grabbed his multi-gun and phase-shifted back to the compound. Apparently, these Cyclops were far tougher than he’d thought. Four of the big beasts lay dead on the ground. The other four were embroiled in hand-to-hand battle with Traveler, Billy and Jackson.

  Anger, and the same stone-cold resolve, flared in Jason. The eight creatures were gifts from the Caldurians—protection—for doing their part in the abduction. Burak had used the term “brought out of storage”—like these monsters had sat on a shelf somewhere, just waiting to be put into action by the Caldurians.

  Jackson seemed to be faring the worst. Granted, up against two of the creatures, he certainly was holding his own. Jason quickly flipped through his multi-gun munitions options on his HUD. Ricket constantly made adjustments—updates to both battle suits and weaponry. Where’d he ever find the time? And, sure enough, a new option appeared … something called Spreader.

  Jason selected the option and fired into the back of the big beast. With each pull of the trigger a low velocity pellet sputtered out. What kind of bullshit is this? He was about to switch back to a more conventional option, when he noticed something happening on the Cyclops’ broad upper back. The three pellets were drilling deep into its thick outer hide; three dark purple spidery webs were growing darker and spreading outward. Something was happening to the beast’s circulatory system; veins and arteries began bursting, at an increasing rate. Suddenly, the Cyclops ceased fighting Jackson. Flinging its two long arms backwards, it was trying to stop what must be debilitating, agonizing pain.

  Jackson gained the opening he needed. He used the stock of his multi-gun, like a battering ram, to repeatedly pummel the Cyclops in the throat.

  Jason fired more pellets into the other three Cyclops. Within two minutes, they each became self-absorbed, frantically trying to extricate the horrific little pellets from their bodies.

  * * *

  Twenty-six engineers were rounded up and placed under guard in one of the barracks buildings. Apparently, Burak had been the primary contact with the Caldurians. Billy and Jackson continued to grill the other engineers, but nothing new was learned. Jason instructed Dira to phase-shift down from the Assailant and attend to Burak. He knew she was not in favor of some of his tactics: to say torture of any kind was against her principles would be a gross understatement.

  Burak was still on the ground when Dira assessed his injuries. Jason perched on the corner of one of Ricket’s equipment lockers and watched her work.

  “Did you get what you needed from him?” she asked, not looking back at Jason.

  “It’s hard to know … to know what you don’t know. But I think he spilled what he knew.”

  “So where is he? Where’s Ricket and the others?”

  “His story goes like this: a Caldurian vessel landed here three weeks ago. They were friendly and enthusiastic about making the engineers’ lives here better. The engineers were also shown where rare mineral deposits lay underground, and given the equipment to mine them. They were also given special gifts—land-based vehicles, weapons, and the promise of a spacecraft, in due time. And all that was required in exchange was for the engineers to bring Ricket, as well as the Minian, into Eriok space. The engineers were fearful of a reprisal by the Alliance, so the eight Cyclops creatures were delivered to them for added protection.”

  “Are the Caldurians close by? What exactly do they want?” Dira asked, injecting a needle into Burak’s upper arm.

  “He said he didn’t know, and didn’t care to know,” Jason said.

  Dira suddenly slapped Burak’s face, startling Jason almost as much as Burak. She leaned in close to the injured engineer, bringing her face within inches of his own. Her voice was quiet, almost soothing, but emotionless. “You have three minutes to live … perhaps less. You’ve been injected with Sacrilum 99. Undoubtedly, you are beginning to feel the effects of the drug, as it’s starting to reach all your major organs. It takes a full three minutes for your organs to turn to mush. Do you feel the burn yet?”

  Jason watched as Burak, lying on his back and staring up at Dira, definitely felt something. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and he began to whimper.

  “I want you to know, Mr. Burak, that Ricket is a very special friend of mine. I don’t ordinarily condone using such tactics. You now have two minutes and … sorry, I forgot to ask, do you have anything you’d like to say?”

  The engineer nodded frantically. “Anything. I will tell you anything … all I know … hurry!”

  “Where are Ricket, Leon, and Hanna?” she held up a new injection device for Burak to see. “It’s the antidote. One minute and thirty seconds left before you are beyond help.”

  His eyes frantically darted from Dira to Jason, finding no sympathy from either. “They mentioned Arkwane. Might be a planet … or maybe a system? Maybe it’s …” Suddenly Burak’s words trailed off, his eyes bulged wider. “Oh my god, I feel the burning! Give me the antidote! Please … I’m dying.”

  Jason watched Dira’s seemingly calm demeanor. He didn’t think she had it in her to continue on like this.

  “Is it a planet or a system? One minute …”

  “A planet!” he yelled. “I remember the leader, one called Hobel, required something from below the surface … said they’d be back. So it had to be a planet … right? It has to be!”

  Dira stood and looked down at Burak for a moment before joining Jason on the equipment locker.

  Burak stared up at her, dumbfounded. Jason was curious too—wasn’t she going to give him the antidote?

  She smiled at Jason, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Vitamin B12 … it has a tendency to burn when given in high doses.”

  “Good work! That’s two things I hadn’t gotten from him; a planet name and the Caldurian leader’s name … Hobel.”

  “And I didn’t have to break any bones to get it. Maybe you should bring me along more often, huh?”

  * * *

  Both Billy and Jackson needed to spend several hours in the Assailant’s only MediPod. Traveler, probably, too, but there wasn’t one large enough on board to accommodate his girth. Jason entered the bridge and took a seat in the command chair.

  Orion said, “Got nothing from the AI on anyone named Hobel in the database … also, in general we have very little on the Caldurians. I got ahold of Granger, back at Jefferson Station, and he said he knows Hobel and wanted me to give you a message: Be very cautious
around that one … if we come into contact with him, watch our backs.”

  “Good to know. And the planet?”

  “That, most definitely, was in our database. Arkwane is one of five planets, located in a nearby system; it is totally aquatic … no land masses at all.”

  “What would they want there?”

  Orion smiled. “Here’s the thing: the inhabitants—to me they look like mermaids or mermen—are fantastic farmers. Incredible sea-bottom crops grow there year-round. The planet supplies food staples to dozens of other worlds.”

  “Okay … interesting, I guess. But why would the Caldurians be interested in that?” Jason asked.

  “Something else Granger said. We know the Caldurians are fascinated by alien cultures … alien worlds. I mean, to the point it’s a cultural obsession … like football or soccer in some countries on your planet. Caldurians collect alien world species, to a degree we never realized before.”

  That does make sense, Jason thought. Both The Lilly and the Minian had Habitat Zoos. “So you’re saying Hobel is looking to add to his collection? He’s on Arkwane to pick up a few mermaid specimens?” Jason asked.

  “Granger thinks it’s more likely he’s doing some preliminary research, for either an existing, or a future, habitat. Habitats are extremely difficult to create. For one thing, as you know, the habitat is a virtual duplication, or clone, of some real-world environment. But to survive within the multiverse, it must be completely self-contained. Some HABs, like HAB 12 on The Lilly, required external influences … like those feeding drones … and some manipulation of the wildlife and ecosystems.”

  Jason knew all that. He’d spent enough time with Ricket, who was also fascinated by habitats. “So this Hobel is taking time out from his kidnapping ventures to play with his latest toy ecosystem?”

  Orion shrugged. “It’s just a guess, but I think it’s a good one.”

  Jason turned forward. “Seaman Gordon, let’s request an interchange wormhole that will put us no closer than one light-year’s distance from Arkwane.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “Gunny, kick in the Assailant’s cloaking system.”

  “We’re already running cloaked, Cap.”

  “Sir … the wormhole is forming off our starboard bow, and it should be fully formed within twenty seconds.”

  “Helm, take us in, soon as it’s stable enough.”

  “Aye, Captain,” McNeil said.

  Bristol entered the bridge and took his seat off to the left. He looked at his station’s display and snorted.

  “Something of interest, Bristol?” Jason asked.

  “I’ve heard about this planet and their …” Suddenly Bristol looked embarrassed and stopped talking.

  Jason was going to finish Bristol’s sentence for him and say mermaids, then remembered the young junior science officer was gay. Maybe he’d heard stories about the mermen?

  “Entering the wormhole now, Captain,” McNeil reported.

  It took less than four seconds to emerge out its distant side.

  “Status, Gunny?”

  He already knew this was a busy space corridor. Thirty or more ships were visible on the forward display.

  “Shipping vessels, mostly, Captain. Two are luxury space-liners. Definitely, it’s a major thoroughfare, of some kind.”

  “Captain, we’re being scanned!” Orion said, all her attention refocused on her board.

  “I thought we were cloaked?”

  Bristol moved to her side and said, “It must have turned off while we were within the wormhole … the damn thing’s flaky as shit.”

  “We already knew that it was flaky, Bristol. Damn it! That’s why I specifically asked you to fix the thing,” Jason said, exasperated.

  “We’ve got company,” Orion said. “Looks like four Caldurian vessels are approaching from deep space … warship class … each one as large as the Minian. Their weapons are charging, sir.”

  Chapter 9

  Open Space, Nearing Arkwane

  Parcical, Ricket’s Quarters

  __________________________

  Ricket rarely slept—long ago, he had manipulated his internal nanites to adjust the levels of melatonin in his bloodstream, as well as another hormone called norepinephrine. But on this particular evening he’d slept deeply. He was given small, but adequate, quarters on the second deck. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes … his internal clock told him he’d been asleep for close to four hours: a seeming eternity in Ricket’s world. He got to his feet and relieved himself in the adjoining head. By the time he made his way up to the Parcical’s fourth deck, he knew something was very wrong. Hanna’s and Leon’s confinement cells were both empty. Ricket spotted a young Caldurian crewmember he knew as Barkley and approached him.

  “Barkley … can you tell me where the two human prisoners were taken?”

  The Caldurian, holding an equivalent rank of Seaman, nervously looked in the direction of the two empty cells, then back at Ricket. “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

  Ricket continued staring up at him.

  He said, “Deck 2 … the MicroVault compartment,” before hurrying off.

  Ricket pondered that information for a moment, quickly remembering there was a locked compartment on Deck 2 … one he hadn’t been given access to. He rushed into the nearest DeckPort and emerged on Deck 2. Without breaking his stride, he continued heading toward the bow, via the primary corridor, then made two left turns down two smaller corridors. Seeing movement up ahead, Ricket ran forward.

  “Stop! Please stop!”

  The group of five, two humans and three Caldurians, paused, and looked back toward Ricket. He recognized Hobel. The two Caldurians with him were armed, their weapons pointed at Leon and Hanna. By the time Ricket caught up to them, Hobel had instructed the guards to keep the prisoners moving.

  Out of breath and sounding frantic, Ricket said, “I will not help you if my friends are harmed.”

  Hobel glanced down at Ricket but didn’t slow up his pace.

  “I’ve never known Caldurians to be barbaric … you’re an advanced people—”

  Hobel cut him off mid-sentence: “Ricket … they will not be harmed. It is for their own wellbeing, as well as the crew’s, that they are placed into long-term storage. I’m sure someone of your intellectual level understands the need for efficiency.”

  “Let them go … why keep them on board this vessel at all?”

  “They may be of importance to us … perhaps for negotiation purposes later on.”

  The guard in front of the group opened an energy hatch, then, stepping aside, waited for Hanna and Leon to proceed forward. Ricket noticed their hands were tied behind their backs, bound securely in glowing red virtual handcuffs.

  “You better think of something, Ricket,” Leon said.

  Hanna remained quiet. Her resigned sad expression cut right into Ricket’s heart.

  “I’ll get … both of you … out of this, I promise,” Ricket said.

  The six entered the circular compartment. As much as Ricket was terrified for what was about to happen to Leon and Hanna, he was equally exhilarated seeing the surrounding area’s technology. Hobel must have observed Ricket’s rapt expression.

  “This is the MicroVault access terminal.”

  The compartment was surrounded by a circular, three-hundred-and-sixty-degree virtual window. Looking up, he saw the same virtual window was extended up overhead above them as well.

  “What you’re looking at, Ricket, is the virtual contents of just one of the MicroVaults on board this vessel. In reality, everything you see is scaled down to molecular-level size. This representation is for our visual reference only. We can both observe and search everything stored within the vault this way … although it is much more efficient to simply have the ship’s AI locate needed items by their designated catalogued identifications.”

  Ricket quickly digested Hobel’s words. What he was currently looking at, out the curved virtual window in front
of him, was miraculous. Like looking into a ginormous, ultra clean, ultra white storeroom. Items hovered weightless in the air, and were all contained within three different sized containers: small, about the size of a large shoebox, medium-sized, which Ricket guessed to be about ten foot by ten foot, and much larger, which were off in the distance and Ricket, from this perspective, could not guesstimate the size. He saw row upon row of items of every sort, spanning out to some distant horizon that seemed miles away. Close to where they were standing was the first of many ten-foot-square containers holding some kind of animal or creature that was bright purple and reptilian looking. It was lying on a padded platform and monitoring devices, such as those found on the Minian’s Medical compartment, indicated its heart was beating, along with some other life-affirming functions. Next to the creature, in an identical container, was some kind of transportation vehicle, though not the same scale size as the creature. Everything here was scaled down, no matter what the actual size was, to fit within each ten-by-ten-foot container. Four containers over, Ricket viewed something that nearly took his breath away. It was the SpaceRunner! Leon’s ship wasn’t destroyed after all.

  “My ship! You stole my fucking ship and stuck it in this vault,” Leon yelled. But the anger in his voice was belied by his expression, which couldn’t hide the relief, the flaring renewed hope he felt, upon seeing the SpaceRunner again.

  “As you can see, they will not be harmed. Stasis is a … what you would call … a humane treatment.” The Caldurian captain moved closer to the curved window and swiped his hand sideways. The virtual storage vault, everything visible on the other side of the window, spun around fast, making it impossible to see anything. He used his fingertips to slow down the spinning to a crawl. The perspective within the virtual storage space had now completely changed. Then, using his hands in a wide, expanding gesture, he zoomed the virtual image to an undefined point in the distant horizon.