Abandoning its complex flight pattern, the Sherlock Holmes immediately cut its engines, and with its thrusters, rotated its attitude. With the Holmes’ nose turned directly towards its antagonist, it relit the main reaction engines and began to slow its momentum, fast closing the relative distance between the two ships.
Firing the lasers and the rail-gun alternately, Hec tried to anticipate the foe’s evasive movements. The distance between the ships continued to narrow rapidly. The enemy ship fired desperately at the now stable target, scoring at will, but causing less drain on the shields with each shot.
“We, or their own missile, must have damaged some of their capability to recharge their weapons,” Owens mused out loud just as Hec scored another devastating hit on the enemy ship. More violently than before, the enemy’s shields again flared in reaction to Hec’s salvo. Owens grinned, “Good shot!”
The enemy abruptly stopped firing. In turn, Hec ceased firing, scanned the vessel and determined the enemy’s shields were down. Other sensor readings indicated extensive hull damage to the enigmatic craft. It had ceased its evasive movements and its engines now appeared off-line. It was moving only because of its inertia.
“Hec, I want you to change course and get us in closer to the bastards. I know we’re well within their weapon's range, but we need to find out whether they’re really out of it or just playing possum. Keep our weapons hot and begin a deep-scan of the ship.”
After a few moments, Hec reported, “I confirm their engines, shields and weapons are down. I can detect no active power generation. They appear to be on back-up, static power sufficient for minimal life support but not much else. Scans indicate eight souls onboard.”
“Well, I’m just glad they’re still alive. They’re going to have a lot to answer for. Right now, I want to see just who in the hell they are,” Owens said. “Are we close enough for a visual?”
“We’re still pretty far away. This is the best that I can do.” The tracking screen changed to a grainy picture of the other ship. It was hard to identify the model of the craft owing to the extensive damage it had received.
“They took a real beating,” Hec observed.
“Yeah, and they deserved every bit of it.” Owens shook his head, “Let’s prep for a docking but take it nice and easy, Hec.”
Hec immediately complied. The Holmes changed course, continuing to reduce its speed. Hec began a cautious approach towards their seemingly powerless attacker with shields up and all weapons locked on the inert target. “I’m not receiving any messages from the ship. They could be preparing for a boarding party.” There was an edge of concern in Hec’s gravelly voice.
“Not to worry Hec, I have no intention of aligning the hatches. Instead, I want a salvage configuration using the grapples. If they’re able to repair the engines, I don’t want them to get away. They can’t escape into subspace with the Holmes on piggyback. I want you to signal them what we intend to…” Owens never finished the sentence.
An alarm immediately blared and the ship’s shields thrummed in response to the explosion. Status indicators once again cycled from red, amber and then gradually back to green. Where the attacker had been moments before was now a rapidly expanding ball of vaporized metal and bits of shrapnel resulting from an apparent self-destruct.
“Just what the hell happened?” He saw that his shields were still registering myriad hits from the tiny bits of debris; all that remained of the attacking ship.
Hec was silent for a moment, and then said, “It looks like the charge was more than enough to do the job. With our shields up, they knew they couldn’t take us out with them. I guess they simply didn’t want to be captured. I took a few readings and some additional visuals before they blew. Give me a little time and I should be able to give you more of an idea as to who they were or at least the origin of that ship.”
Owens shook his head in frustration. Damn them, he thought. The bastards had managed to take their secret with them. He still knew nothing about them. Who were they? Who had bankrolled the ambush and why? Who had he pissed off so badly to deserve such an effort? He took a deep calming breath. “Okay,” he finally said. “I know I’ve made a few enemies during my stint in law enforcement… maybe even a few more as a private investigator. But I swear, I can’t think of a one that would have the will or resources to outfit a ship, an interstellar ship no less, to take me out.”
He mused out loud, “A laser through the heart on a crowded transport platform, a bashed-in skull in a dark alley or even a blade in the back… that I could understand. But this, this is overkill, and it had to have been damned expensive at that.” He angrily slammed his fist down on one the armrests. Having been previously weakened from his Loder-powered grip during the attack, it broke with a loud snap and fell to the deck. “Shit!”
“I wouldn’t know about such things Boss, not having any training in your line of work,” Hec said, ignoring Owens’ outburst. “In any case, you need to know I’m receiving a priority message from someone called Ambort Neven, head of the Confederated Planets Security Corps.”
Owens looked nonplussed, “Head of Confederated Planets Security Corps? Now why would Security Corps, much less the Head of Security Corps, get involved with a small skirmish at the edge of civilized space?” He mused out loud, “Hmmm, that would normally be in Space Flight Authority Enforcement’s jurisdiction.” He shook his head, “My, my, how the red tape does get tangled.”
Hec answered, “Actually, I don’t think that’s what this Neven’s message is about. The introduction requests your services for a special assignment and lists coordinates for a meeting site. The body of the message is encrypted.” Hec paused for a moment, “Oh, and don’t look now, but those vaunted lads from SFA Enforcement have just arrived to save the day. They must have had a ship in our vicinity. They’re a little late, but what the hell, at least they showed up. I just traded confirmation codes with them; they’re the real deal. And guess what? They’re signaling for a board and confer.”
Owens asked for an outside video image and saw a large ship with the SFA logo emblazoned across its flank. Sighing, he told Hec to acknowledge their request and prepare for a docking. “I’ll look at Neven’s message in my quarters and while I’m doing that, extend the docking collar and deploy the conference room set up for the guest suite. Go ahead and direct our visitors there if I’m not back in time to greet them at the lock. I shouldn’t be too long.” With that he left the bridge and headed for his quarters.
Back in his room, Owens rubbed the back of his neck trying to ease his tension. He sagged against a bulkhead, thoughts still racing in the aftermath of the attack. He remained at a loss for the mysterious assault. It wasn’t about piracy; the attackers had aimed for his ship’s total destruction, not its incapacitation. And why did they self-destruct in the end?
If he discounted the attackers’ mass suicide, it seemed like an elaborate, prohibitively expensive attempt at murder; his murder. However, if it was an attempt at murder, try as he might, he couldn't think of anyone who could come up with the money needed for such a costly ploy. He couldn’t figure out the angle. Murder didn’t sync up with the suicide. Eight people dead, because they failed to kill one relatively minor private investigator? No, none of it added up. His head began to ache as he tried to make sense of it.
He finally sat down, kneading his temples. He had to admit to himself the attack had seriously shaken him. He had been much closer to death a number of times while he was still on the force, but he had accepted the risks, understood the situations and the motives driving them. This was new, unknown territory for him... no motive, no suspect and no weapon – the unidentified ship having been effectively destroyed. His thoughts were interrupted by Hec on the ship’s com.
“They’re in the conference room, Boss, and really anxious to talk to you,” Hec reported.
“Okay, I’ll be right there,” he answered.
As he turned to leave, he belatedly remembered the message from
Neven. Well, he thought, it would just have to wait until he was finished with the SFA. Before leaving his quarters, he opened the med cabinet, grabbed some painkillers and swallowed them dry. Then, trying to organize his thoughts, he headed to the converted conference room for what he knew would be a long, drawn-out interview.
Three long hours later, Owens escorted the two SFA representatives to the airlock. Back in the bridge, he watched with bleary eyes as the SFA ship disengaged from the docking collar and headed back out to its patrol route. “Well that was a lot of fun,” Owens said to Hec. “I don’t know why they had to grill me for so long. The copy they took of our ship’s logs will support our description of the attack as being unprovoked, though I doubt their investigation will provide any real information on the identity of our attackers.”
“Must have made their day, something that far out of the routine,” Hec replied. “As they put it, ‘space piracy will not be tolerated.’ I guess they couldn’t accept that someone would try to eliminate you and try it on such a grand scale. It’s sort of like using a ten-ton hydraulic press to fold a napkin. But hey, you’re worth it Boss. If you gotta go, do it with a bang, a really, really big bang.”
“Something must have gone wrong with your personality overlay,” Owens responded dryly. “It looks like the ‘sense of humor’ parameters were corrupted.” Before Hec could respond, Owens went on. “You know. I never did find out what this Neven wants. I’d better go back to my quarters and decrypt his message. While I’m doing that, reconfigure this room back to guest quarters and finish up the damage assessment. Then let me know when we can resume our course.” He turned and headed back down the corridor.
He abruptly stopped and said, “I just remembered, have you had any luck at all yet in determining who the attackers were?”
“Sorry Boss, no luck yet,” Hec’s voice filled the corridor. “I’m still working on it. So far, none of the databases I’ve accessed have any information on the ship’s design. I did find some ships with similar hull configurations, but they’re listed in the history libraries. Some of the closest matches were from hull designs nearly two hundred years old. Do you think that they got it from a salvage yard? It’s all very strange… Oh, and there’s nothing in public police archives that shows any ship of that type was stolen either.”
“Okay, let me know if you find anything else.” He resumed walking.
Back in his stateroom at his desk, Owens managed to decrypt the main message and read it several times. He then sat motionless with brow furrowed for a number of minutes deep in thought. Finally, he coded his response and sent it. He then called out, “What’s our status, Hec? If we’re okay, I’m going to make a change in our flight plan. Instead of home, we’re now going to the planet Denbus and meet with this Mr. Neven. His message was a little terse, but he did convey he has an important job lined up and is authorized to pay triple my fee.”
“That sounds pretty promising, Boss.”
“Yeah, I agree. I think it’s worth a few extra days of flight time to hear him out.” In light of Neven’s message, Owens thought the Institute of Health could wait a few days before he made a final decision on which assignment to take.
“Going back to your questions,” Hec began. “I finished the damage assessment, and it was negligible. As I said before, they didn’t even smudge the wax. In addition to the earlier damage, we did fry a shield coupling relay. I rerouted the circuit to the first on-line spare. We still have two hot back-ups ready and two cold ones in storage. All the breakers have been reset, and the couplers have been swapped, tested and are holding within specs. The shields are back to one hundred percent.”
Owens asked, “And the Holmes’ flight status?”
“The ship’s guest quarters are reset to normal configuration and the furnishings re-secured,” the AI promptly answered. “All ship systems are in the green and the subspace condensers are fully charged. I just finished plotting the new course for Denbus; it’s ready for your concurrence. As soon as the docking collar completes its retraction cycle, we should be prepared to go in approximately three minutes.”
“Great,” he rubbed his eyes and said in a fatigue-roughened voice, “I’m really dead on my feet. I think it might be best for you to remain in control. You have my okay for the new course. Lock-in the ship’s primary heading and initiate our subspace drive at your discretion,” Owens stretched, then turned and looked longingly at the oversized bed. He yawned and continued, “Why don’t you wake me up in four, no, make that five hours… that is, if no one else decides to ‘fold any more napkins.’ Oh, and one more thing, that was fine work, Hec. I’ll admit I had my doubts, but so far you’ve more than earned your keep.”
“Thanks,” Hec said. If the AI had a mouth, it would have grinned.
CHAPTER 10
The Sherlock Holmes arrived at Denbus at the end of three ship days. Denbus was a small planet that had been developed exclusively as the center for a number of important government agencies. Security was tight. Private and commercial ships were not allowed to use the planet’s spaceport facilities. Instead, ships were assigned parking orbits and ferried to the planet’s surface in security-screened shuttles.
Having achieved orbit at the designated set of coordinates Neven had included in his message, Owens waited for the mandatory in-ship inspection by Customs. It wasn’t long before Customs arrived. Owens was surprised by the short interval between making orbit and the visit by the inspectors. Normally, it wouldn’t be unusual to wait up to a full ship’s day for an official to arrive. Neven must have some serious pull, Owens thought.
The inspection took only a half-hour and after Customs left, Owens gave Hec some last-minute instructions before the transport shuttle arrived. “Remember our deal, be careful when you access the public grid, and don’t take any chances that could reveal your existence.”
“Hey, I can be discrete. Besides, how can I forget,” Hec sniffed. “I’m a cyber-personality. Thanks to my genius, I’m a highly advanced computer-based entity. I won’t forget anything, unless I undertake a memory wipe, so I can’t help but honor our deal; I mean this version of my life depends on remaining undetected.”
“Yeah, you’re right of course,” Owens said somewhat sheepishly. “Look, I’m sorry for pointing out the obvious. I’m still edgy about the attack, and these government planets trigger my natural paranoia. I take back what I said, okay?”
“That’s okay, Boss. I have a small streak of paranoia myself.”
“Anyway, you need to know the Customs inspection was the only ship entry required by law. No one else is to enter the ship without a warrant or my express permission. There’s always some administrator who wants to show the boss that he’s a ‘take charge’ kind of guy and in his zeal to exercise his authority will try to bully his way into a ship. And on this, I speak from experience.”
“A couple of years ago on another planet, I had a run-in with the Bureau of Ship Standards.” He grimaced. “I foolishly allowed an official to come onboard to update a license waiver. He took the opportunity to make an impromptu inspection and proceeded to levy seven citations for unauthorized modifications. Later, in administrative court, I managed to prove I had all the variance filings and permits, but not before spending a couple of months trying to untangle a mound of red tape and spending a small fortune on attorney fees.”
“They’ll have to go over my dead body to get in, well, if I had one, that is,” Hec quipped. The AI then added, “The shuttle just hailed. It has its own docking rig and will join with the Holmes secondary hatch in about two minutes.”
Owens was again surprised by the speedy arrival of the shuttle, “That was quick. Neven must be pretty damned important and in a real rush to meet with me.” His curiosity was now fully aroused. “Okay, you have the ship. I don’t know how long this will take, but I’ll let you know if I have to stay on-planet overnight.” He turned and headed to the hatch that opened into the ship’s secondary docking port.
The sh
uttle was a well-maintained, older Series C model. Owens found a vacant seat and waited for the small red panel on his left armrest to change. It faded to green, signaling the restraint system was active. A positive signal was successfully sent to the shuttle’s AI, indicating it was now safe to proceed. The AI then gently disengaged from the Holmes and guided the shuttle on to two more orbiting ships for passenger pickups. With the last passenger secure in her seat, the shuttle made for planet-fall.
Thankfully, the trip down to the planet’s surface was short. On exiting the shuttle, Owens went through a body screen and security interview. Having cleared the security check, he headed next for the exit to the public transport boarding platform. He took two steps into the center and was immediately intercepted by a squat, uniformed official, “Mr. Owens. My name is Hamden Gant. I’m here to drive you to Commissioner Neven’s office at CPSC headquarters. He thought it more expedient to provide for your transportation. It’s about a half-hour drive from here.”
Owens wasn’t surprised Gant had identified him. Loders were few in number and usually stood out from any crowd. With that brief introduction, Gant turned and gestured for Owens to enter the opened door of a late model ground transport. Its smooth gray side was marred only by the prominent badge of a government logo embossed in black and silver. Before he entered, he took a moment to breathe in the fresh air. The crisp air and a clear blue sky was a refreshing change from Genhome’s musty atmosphere and the ship’s recycled air.
With a small sigh, he entered the vehicle. The transport silently rose on its impeller field and accelerated away from the shuttle port. Owens noted Gant had not engaged the vehicle’s AI. Gant drove through a complex maze of busy streets unerringly, seldom needing to slow for traffic. Looking out of the vehicle’s window as buildings slid past, Owens found himself imagining what Hec’s caustic commentary would be if the AI were driving instead of the stoic Gant.
Shadows of Golstar Page 9
