Armstrong Station

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Armstrong Station Page 14

by D. M. Pruden


  “Who did you lose?”

  “My little sister, Nee-Cee; much like you, she ran away, but she was only seventeen, and we never heard from her again.” He quickly wipes his eye.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  An awkward silence descends. Chloe points at the holo-frame on the desk. “Is that her picture?”

  Chambers retrieves it to hand to her.

  She studies the image, and as she does, her brow furrows. “What is your sister’s name?”

  “Nancy. We called her Nee-Cee, because that’s how she pronounced her name when she was two. It stuck.”

  Chloe continues to stare at the photo. “Nan...” she whispers.

  He frowns. “Yeah, that’s what she wanted us to call her when she was older...” His voice trails off as he realizes something is strange about how she stares at the photo.

  She shows him the picture, pointing at the smiling little pigtail-wearing girl. “This is a much younger version of my Nan.”

  He raises his eyebrow and accepts the frame from her, turning it to studying. “Really? That’s quite a coincidence.”

  She watches his face intently and speaks softly. “You’re her brother, Roy.”

  “Um, yeah. That’s what I said.”

  She continues to scrutinize him. “Your mother’s name is Isabelle, and Willem is your father.”

  “Wait a minute, how do you know that?”

  “She told me all about you—your family.”

  “This is bullshit,” says Chambers. “Nan has been missing for almost ten years. If this is a con or a sick joke...”

  “NO! Please believe me. I know why she ran away from home. She was angry that your father wouldn’t let her follow you into military service.”

  “How could you know any of this? I only learned about it a couple of years ago.”

  Tears stream down Chloe’s cheeks. “Nan adored you. When the military contacted your parents with the news you’d died in combat, it was too much for her. She blamed your parents for your death and left home.”

  “I don’t believe you. What is your game?”

  “She talked so much about you. When she was small, she called you Roo-bear.”

  It is Chambers’ turn to shed tears. “You...you’re lying. She ran away. The only way you could know any of this is if you were involved with her disappearance.”

  “We were best friends. She came to my home when she ran away. My father was abroad at the time, and Nan lived with me for several months. She was distraught when she believed you had died. Eventually, she decided to try to help other families who’d experienced a similar loss, and she became a grief counsellor. Over the years, we fell in love. When my father wanted me to marry Lincoln, it was Nan who helped me escape. We were going to Callisto to start a new life together.”

  He slumps into his chair and stares blankly ahead, trying to process everything.

  “All this time, she’s been alive and with you...”

  “Yes, Roy, and now she’s missing and I—we have to find her.”

  He glares at her, nostrils flaring as he considers her role in Nan’s disappearance. Then his face contorts as his eyes fill with tears. “She was alive and now she might be—”

  “NO; she’s not dead. I know she is still out there, because I am still alive. They wanted us both for the same thing.”

  “But we don’t know where they took her.”

  “No, but I have the resources to find out where, and you have this ship.”

  He frowns. “What are you saying?”

  “We have both lost the same person. We should work together to find her.”

  “It is the Jovian Collective who took you both. The men who had any idea of Nan’s location were killed by your father. The only other person who can tell us anything is Carson Willis, and he’s on the run.”

  “Then we’ll track him down. We’ll find the pirates and follow whatever clues exist.”

  He shakes his head. “It’s impossible...”

  “Roy, you might be willing to give up on her again, but I’m not. If you won’t help, I’ll hire someone else.”

  “No.” He stares grimly at her before continuing. “We’re in. I’ll have to persuade my crew because we’ll be giving up a lot to become detectives, but we’re in.”

  “I’ll pay them. I’ll pay you all. I can afford it.”

  “I won’t take your money...” He hesitates. “But my crew would appreciate a stipend.”

  She smiles. “I’ll reward them handsomely.”

  Chambers nods. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Chloe wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him close. “Thank you.”

  He breaks off the embrace and holds her shoulders. “I’m doing this for Nan, not you. I still hold you responsible for her situation.”

  Her cheeks are wet with tears. “I understand but thank you anyway.”

  Her scowls. “This isn’t a passenger ship. You’ll work, just like everyone else aboard.”

  “Not a problem, Roy; you’ll find I can be useful.”

  “And don’t ever call me Roy.”

  She steps back from him and stands stiffly. “Yes, Captain.”

  “Don’t call me that either. It’s Chambers. Just plain old Chambers.”

  Chloe holds out her hand. “Sure, Chambers. Anything you say.”

  He shakes her hand, feeling like an enormous weight is lifted from his shoulders after far too many years.

  Epilogue

  The crescent of Luna grows smaller as Requiem carries us away.

  Chambers sits next to our pilot, Mikey, sharing a joke. Cervantes is busy doing whatever a navigator is supposed to do, and Schmaltz snores softly, strapped into his chair, an unlit stogie hanging loosely from his teeth.

  Next to me, staring out the window, is Chloe, the newest and most unlikely member of our crew. I don’t know what she said to Chambers to allow her to join us, but I am not unhappy about it. She is still my patient and will be until I find a way to kill off the deadly nanites that poison her system. In the meantime, we have a six-week supply of the antidote drugs, giving me plenty of time to either cure her or synthesize more until I can.

  I have more than a measure of professional pride at stake in curing her. I’m surprised to say I like her, which was a rarity for me. I don’t normally get along well with members of my own sex, but Chloe and I share a common experience. I am looking forward to there being another woman aboard. It will help compensate for the abundance of testosterone I am forced to deal with during Requiem’s runs.

  Chambers is being unusually secretive about our change of plans. I’m not worried. I’ve grown to trust the galoot and know he’ll tell me what is happening in his own time.

  Chloe, too, seems to be sitting on a secret. At first, I wondered if they were boinking each other, but she is not inclined toward the attentions of men. It is probably another reason I like her so much; less competition.

  Whatever their secrets, shared or not, they won’t remain so for very long aboard such a small ship.

  Preview of Phobos Station

  I pause to check my surroundings and rein in my fear.

  Focus, Mel.

  I’m a doctor, not a spy. How did I allow myself to be conned into this? Something I’ll reflect on later...if I live through this...

  If not...

  Well, I must survive. Otherwise, nobody is going to remember anything worthwhile about me. My headstone will read, Here lies Melanie Destin, too stupid to mind her own business.

  If I were as smart as I pretend to be, I’d admit I’m in over my head and return to Requiem.

  Calm down, Mel, and try to keep your wits. Now is too late to start second-guessing.

  I resume walking. Trepidation growing with each step, I head farther into this dimly lit tunnel. The place hasn’t been used for some time. Half the ceiling lights are burned out, and the electrical cabling along above my head must be a hundred years old. The deeper I go, the farther I am from being able to cal
l for help. These walls are solid rock. My cortical implant won’t connect to anyone, and radio communications are impossible.

  There is no sign my quarry is aware I’m tracking them, but I keep my eyes on my HUD, just to make sure the signal remains a constant distance ahead, but I can’t guarantee they aren’t on to me.

  This is a dumb idea.

  I catch myself hyperventilating. My heart is trying to set a new speed record, and my throat aches because I’m breathing through my mouth.

  I was trained to deal with this better than I am. Inhale slowly through the nose and exhale past the lips is one of the first things they teach you in EVA training. Admittedly, it was some time ago, but all the same, I need to calm down and stay on task. All these random thoughts aren’t helpful.

  Perhaps now is the time to dig the pistol from my pack. I’m not sure why I accepted the damned thing. I could never use one on a person.

  It slips from my grip and tumbles slowly to my feet. I lunge for it, missing. My helmet bangs into the rock wall, and I fall clumsily to the ground.

  Shit! Really graceful, Destin.

  Keeping one hand on the wall of the cavern for balance, I pick myself up and lean forward to retrieve the dropped gun.

  And then I spot the boot, connected to someone pointing a weapon at me.

  * * *

  Mars is a nice place…when it’s not trying to kill you.

  Most spacefarers avoid Phobos Station. It is hard to get to, and the locals would rather shoot you than be helpful.

  Melanie Destin has agreed to a simple task: Identify the person who receives a container the Requiem delivers to Phobos Station.

  When she learns the identity of the intended recipient, things becomes far more deadly. As the body count rises, Mel must find a way to protect her shipmates from an old nemesis with vengeance on his mind.

  Melanie Destin has a knack for getting out of the trouble that finds her, but has her luck finally run out on Phobos Station?

  Phobos Station is available at this link.

  Free eBook Offer!

  As a way of saying thank you, I want to offer you a free ebook of the prequel novella, Requiem.

  To claim your free novella, please join my reader list by going to https://bookhip.com/HQBTAH

  Other books by D.M. Pruden

  The Shattered Empire Series:

  Kaine’s Sanction

  Kaine’s Retribution

  Kaine’s Reparation

  The Mars Ascendant Series:

  The Ares Weapon

  Mother of Mars

  Child of Mars

  Legacy of Mars

  Requiem’s Run Series:

  Requiem

  Armstrong Station

  Phobos Station

  Rhea’s Vault

  Ganymede Station

  Europa Colony

  Dark Run

  Callisto’s Song

  The Jovian Collective

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  About the Author

  D.M.(Doug) Pruden worked for 35 years in the petroleum industry as a geophysicist. For most of his life he has been plagued with stories banging around inside his head that demanded to be let out into the world. He currently spends his time as an empty nester in Calgary, Alberta, Canada with his long suffering wife of many years. When he isn’t writing science fiction stories, he likes to spend his time playing with his grandchildren and working on improving his golf handicap.

  You can find Doug at these social media links:

 

 

 


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