It was disheartening to see the lobby full of armed men, ready for war they pushed through the crowds of gamblers yelling and menacing folks.
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Kyro cursed.
He just needed to get Selena out of there but how? There were way too many to take on and they were moving to the stairs where they were hiding. A crackling noise came from Selena’s braid followed by Ariel’s voice.
“Come to the roof of the gambling house now!” she cried.
“You have a communicator in your hair?” Kyro asked with a smile.
“Yup, I learned that trick from a very famous bounty hunter.” She replied.
They quickly climbed back up the stairs and made their way to the roof. There waiting was Kaleb, Helen and Ariel hovering above the roof in an ancient beat up looking craft. Kyro and Selena were in disbelief they had no idea how their family pulled this off but it was a most welcomed sight. They climbed inside and flew over the town towards the launch pads. Kaleb was going to be certain that they got off planet immediately, and so they did. With the few items they collected and packed into Norma jean the group boarded the first ship leaving Sentos. They went with Kyro to his new home and started fresh. Selena trained to do more of her kind of work and even trained with her father for a future in bounty hunting. Kyro showed them a world away from dusty Sentos, and for them life couldn't get any better. Ariel even found a new wool rug.
Thank you for reading The Hunted
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The Children of Selene
By
Michelle Garza
Copyright © 2016 Michelle Garza
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
Colonial ship Columbus
Year 2180
The rescue vessel remained stationary, hovering just inside the atmosphere, they were preparing to attempt an extraction. The beacon the crew detected fifty hours before was faint but they managed to follow it to the surface of the abandoned planet beside of a great crater. The crew were fitted with protective suits and masks to keep the virus from entering their bodies like the plague doctors of ancient times. The captain brought his ship down and attempted communication with any left alive inside of the derelict excavation craft known as the infinity.
“This is the captain of Colonial Ship Columbus, please respond.” His voice was fed into the intercom of the infinity through the emergency intercom system that linked up with the Columbus as it drew near.
“This is Captain Webber of rescue vessel Columbus, hailing the Infinity…any living souls please respond.”
A crackle like static answered.
“Infinity, we have limited time. If you are unable to speak then send us a signal of life.”
A response came from a whispered voice, so quiet and garbled that it was indecipherable.
The quartermaster looked to his captain who nodded, “We’re going in.”
“We are now following anticontamination procedures and will board you. Stay where you are.”
The captain searched the faces his men, it was the first some of them had ever seen the cradle of their existence, their eyes fearful.
“It’s true that there are a handful of people resistant to the infection but we will take no chances, don’t believe anything the Infinity crew says. Put any survivors in the chamber, they will live there until we reach Cielo.”
***
They boarded the Infinity through the starboard side entrance door, it stood wide open. The ashen soil had blown inside of the ship, leaving everything covered with grey dust. All systems were in shut down, only emergency lighting made their path visible before them. The leader signaled for the crew to turn on their helmet lights, it helped slightly. The Infinity was a dark shell though once it was clear she must have been a prize, she was fitted with the most up to date equipment for digging and retrieving that the colonies could provide. A government vessel, sent to obtain artifacts of human history, it was reported missing in action when it did not return on the predetermined date with no contact sent to the scientific board awaiting updates until a distress call was sent. The Columbus took up the search since they were the only rig within range with the capabilities of retrieving possible red lung contaminants.
The rescue crew made their way slowly along through the disaster that was once named the infinity. It was trashed inside, someone was panicked or delusional, perhaps a struggle had occurred. The bay to the escape pod was open, it was empty. The pod had been deployed but no beacon could be located from it, it was lost somewhere in the black…space had claimed it like so many others. The quartermaster gripped the shoulder of a crew hand. He could feel a trembling through the protective suit, the young man was terrified. He pointed down to the floor of the hallway they were about to enter, a pool of crimson so dark it was nearly black soiled the once shining floor. In the glow of his helmet lamp he could see the walls were also covered in it, hand prints of coagulated blood painted the narrow hall at the end was a closed door, a light shined through a small glass window in its center.
“We have blood, Captain. Massive amounts.” He reported.
“Proceed with caution.” Captain Webber answered.
The second in command took the lead and the rest followed as he approached the door. They came within a foot of it when a grimy hand beat the thin piece of glass between them. They leapt back, startled as a hoarse voice began to scream. A pale face looked out at them, an older man with disheveled white hair. He pulled the door open and stood shaking, he was clothed only in his underpants, his stomach shrunken in.
“Starving.” He said.
“Tell us your name, sir.”
“Starving. She’s starving.” He answered.
“Who is?”
The old man fell to the bloody floor and began to convulse, the back of his head bore a massive wound. They approached him slowly, then deployed a containment tent around him, securing him inside. He fought feebly, insisting someone was starving.
***
“His name is Samuel Tufty. The last surviving member of his crew.” The quartermaster reported.
“We retrieved the recorded data of their expedition, the last three days were erased. No other survivors could be found.”
“Red lung gives men delusions, drives them mad. Is he infected?” The Captain asked.
“Preliminary blood tests came up negative.”
“The others must have gone mad with sickness, and attempted to return to the colonies in the pod. He must have tried to contain them on the ship.” Webber said shaking his head.
“What are your orders, sir?”
“He will remain in the chamber for good measure.” The captain said.
The men left him there in the steel room, his body was on the verge of wasting away yet his mind could only think of her…
Colonial cargo vessel Maiden
YEAR 2181
The lowest deck was nearly black but for the red emergency lighting sparsely placed about the walls of the cargo hold. Tufty walked with his hand out in front of him like a blind man feeling his way along. He shuffled quietly, holding his breath as if it might come heaving out and echo loudly off the steel walls and crates. He couldn’t let the captain catch him down there in the dark; it would be hard to explain why he would be there alone amongst all of the sealed excavation equipment. It might give away that he had broken one of the golden rules of flight between the colonies…no ticks allowed. Stowaways were often imprisoned, people feared their reasons for such covert forms of travel. Tufty knew the regulations yet ignored them. Ticks were usually seedy characters, criminals and those fleeing the interstellar armed forces. Law abiding men would have paid for a bunk on a passenger ship and not snuck aboard a cargo hauler. It was bound for the dying planet… they must have been in real desperate shape to agree to touchdown in such a place even if it was only a twenty-four-hour layover.
“PSSST!”
Tufty jumped as the shadow trying to hail him emerged from behind a crate, blotting out the red light.
“Bring us any food?” the stowaway asked.
“Only what I could manage from the pantry.” Tufty answered holding out a few cartons of dehydrated rations to Peter, the tick.
“Art, get over here!” Peter whispered.
A silhouette towered over Tufty as Arthur came to join his partner. “Thanks, Mister.” He said.
“Keep out of sight. Captain Bronson will throw you into the black if he catches you down here.”
“Don’t worry about getting caught.” Peter answered.
“We are used to disappearing.” Arthur said.
“I hope that you are.” Tufty answered then turned back and walked into the smothering darkness.
***
The surround sound played the best of earth’s heavy metal, dating from nineteen eighty up until the catastrophe of twenty-one fifty-one, that was the year that music nearly died. It was just beginning to bud once more amongst the colonies yet it would never capture the grit of the old earth days. Luckily for the human race it wasn’t the end complete, space travel became popular for civilians in the year twenty-one forty and government colonies were already established decades before, providing places for the handful left after the planet began to shut down an escape. The exodus from the poisoned earth for many was like jumping blindly into cold, black water…some even chose to stay on earth and perish along with it.
“You like that old shit, Cap?” Ayana teased.
Ayana Gonzalez walked into the control room to bring Bronson his mug of coffee then began tying her black hair into a braid down her back as she admired his rugged face. She could never admit to him that she thought his shaggy dark hair and unshaven chin were attractive, she kept it to herself. Her skin was tan, her body toned yet petite. She was a two-year veteran of hauling cargo aboard the Interstellar ship the Maiden. She enjoyed every minute of the rogue life; especially since it kept her parents in a lodging house without the need of her father seeking employment in his old age.
“You’re damn right, Gonzalez!” Bronson answered. “The new stuff is crap!”
He winked a dark eye before going to the control panel to turn down the volume. Bronson sipped the coffee gratefully before sitting down across from Ayana in his seat.
“Where’s Dozer and Lewis?” She asked, taking a drink from her own cup.
“Making rounds.” He answered.
“You mean their down below screwing somewhere.” Gonzalez giggled.
“If by screwing you mean securing the ship then I’m ok with that.” He grinned.
Captain Bronson wasn’t really concerned what his crew did after hours as long as they performed when he needed them and they always did. Their run was known as Operation Conservator, making their wages by hauling artifacts from the dying planet back to the colonies.
A conglomerate government formed after world leaders realized that wars against one another had only lead to a mass extinction of man, there were no longer concerns over which religion anyone followed when eighty percent of the world’s population had died. It became clear that the race worthy of life was the remainder of the human race. The colonies provided homes to the ship loads of refugees, all seeking new hope beyond the stars. They set up Operation Conservator to return to earth, to collect artifacts to preserve the heritage of those born there, to pay tribute to the millions that had died before the true lessons of comradery and brotherhood were finally achieved. Bronson accepted the dangerous job of returning to earth, it paid him well and kept him out amongst the cold black cradle of space, his favorite place to be.
Bronson could always be found at the controls of the Maiden, his lady, the only woman he ever needed. Listening to classical heavy metal and drinking coffee as black as the view beyond him. It was rare that he slept more than a few hours, his second in command, Sheila Lewis often claimed that he was super human but he was actually an insomniac. Being on the job only increased his trouble sleeping, he was concerned for his ship, his lady, she was all that he had to his name.
“Ming is on his way in. Prepare for his entrance before you turn in.” Bronson instructed Ayana.
“Yes, Sir.” She answered as she sat before the secondary controls.
“If Sheila didn’t have her hands full at the moment, she could be doing this.” She teased causing the captain to laugh into his cup.
***
Ming felt the mini pod bump against the port door, it made him flinch. Bronson would have his ass for not paying attention.
“Watch my woman or I’ll toss you in the shit fridge.” Bronson’s voice reprimanded over the intercom system.
“Yes, Captain.”
Bronson often threatened to throw the new ship hand into the waste hold, it was actually starting to sound repetitive yet Ming didn’t want to bring it to his captain’s attention or he might find himself cleaning them.
The port door slid open and he glided the mini pod into the hold and waited until Gonzalez gave him the go ahead to exit it and make his way up to the main deck. Captain Bronson watched him on the monitor, mocking him over the ships intercom system.
“Hi, my name is Ming and my granny can maneuver a pod with more accuracy then me.” Bronson broadcasted.
Ming shook his head then giggled as the passenger doors came open, two older men, the archaeologists returning to dying earth, watched him pass by with looks of disapproval written all over their faces. As Ming rounded a corner he looked up to the thumb-sized security camera and presented it his middle finger, knowing that Bronson was watching.
“Is that the finger you had lodged in your ass when you ran into my lady?” Bronson asked.
Ming could be seen in the observation screen bursting into laughter.
“Don’t be too hard on him, Cap. We need his brains on this ship.” Gonzalez scolded.
“Just putting him through the initiation. He seems to have a cool head on his shoulders.” Bronson answered.
She knew it was true, the ribbing Bronson gave her the first year of working aboard The Maiden was infuriating at the time but quite hilarious when she reminisced back to those days. She too had been threatened with being tossed in the shit fridge many times.
It wasn’t long before the control room door slid open and Ming stepped in.
“Report.” Bronson said.
“She’s in top shape, Captain Bronson. All preforming remarkably for her age, even her old single shot plasma canon checked out.” Ming answered formally.
“Just what I like to hear. Take a seat.”
The control room wasn’t large but had enough seating for the small crew to join the captain for briefings. The ship itself would hardly be considered midsized as compared to that of the government fleets that were sent on security patrols and dwarfed by the passenger ships that made their rounds leisurely between the three colony planets. The Maiden was an older model, but she was built strong and moved fast, that’s what Bronson loved about her so much. Their course took them through some remote places, into the black as it was often called, that wild stretch of space between the colonies and earth. The speeds she reached cut travel time down to a few weeks between the farthest lying colony, Cielo, to the dying planet. Those speeds required stops for routine maintenance and that is why young David Ming was recruited, he was fresh out of training and displayed a mind keen for ship mechanics yet he couldn’t pass the physical requirements to join up with the military patrol. Captain Bronson took him under his wing, knowing the young man could pilot his very own ship one day. Bronson had retired from the military with honors and set up his own operation soon after, he was well into his forties and had many years of space travel left in him, in fact his will stated he wished to have his body cast into the black upon his death.
“Where’s Sheila and Dozer?” Ming asked.
“Down below making the final rounds.” Ayana answered.
“Oh, you mean
boinking in the laundry room.” Ming said.
“Basically.” Bronson said.
“Isn’t it funny that they think it’s a big secret.” Ayana said shaking her head and smiling.
“Let them believe it.” Bronson said staring out into the darkness.
In the distanced loomed a grey sphere, the dying planet was within view.
“Get some rest.” He said to them. “The fun begins soon.”
***
Sheila slid out of Dozer’s embrace and began to get dressed. He kicked back on the pile of laundry that they used as a makeshift bed.
“Where are you goin’, beautiful?” He asked, his voice deep and lazy.
“We gotta get back up top. You think I’m sleeping on a cold pile of towels?” Sheila answered.
“That’s right, you gotta get back on top.” Dozer teased and pointed to his groin, then stood up to start getting dressed after the look he received.
Galactic - Ten Book Space Opera Sci-Fi Boxset Page 148
