by Scott Moon
Darklanding, and the spaceport it served, was on top of an enormous mesa, a perfect place to land ships and blast cargo back into space. Looking out from this point of view gave him a queasy stomach. He could imagine the entire settlement, prefabricated buildings slipping over the side and disappearing down a thousand-meter drop.
The mag-rail arched up the side of this impressive geological formation, having ascended from a low-lying system of canyons and valleys. On the other side of Transport Canyon were mountains, dense with all manner of minerals and exotic materials. The exotics alone were worth the cost of the entire settlement, but there were other less interesting metals and minerals in abundance, too.
From this vantage point, the canyon almost looked like a bowl. There was a high road that went from Darklanding to the mines that skirted the edge of the depressed area. Driving it was not for the faint of heart and he had been glad not to pay attention during the mad rush to assist the miners during the collapse. Descending into the valleys and coming back out would’ve played havoc on human or Unglok passengers. Unmanned transport containers, the titanium-walled boxcars that moved all the wealth of this place, had fewer limitations.
He’d watched them dive into the canyon relying on gravity and mag-rail accelerators to reach incredible speeds before racing across the area with their fore and aft engine cars pushing and pulling madly. The scariest part of the process, in his opinion, was the final climb back up to the mines, or conversely, back up to Darklanding. The kinetic force of such a long missile could not be estimated. Or at least not by him. Maybe Ungloks with their intuitive math skills had a better handle on the potential danger the mag-rail train represented.
At night, there were normally stars, but dust clouded the air. He looked down at Maximus. “If I wasn’t convinced before, I am now. All this junk in the air is from the train wreck.”
Maximus snorted, almost as if he understood.
Thaddeus soared on the thermal night winds of Ungwilook. Holding the stick with one hand, he let his other arm rest lazily on the armrest of the captain’s seat. There were three computer monitors with powerful camera views, but he preferred to stare out the pockmarked pseudo-glass of the cockpit. For a moment, he felt motionless as the airship glided above the world. He stared at the twin moons disappearing frequently behind the veil of dust and debris.
Turning the ship into the canyon, he scanned the area with cameras, sensors, and his own eyes. What he saw looked like a battlefield, something that he’d thought he left far behind. He felt a sudden surge of adrenaline, before he forced himself to calm down.
There were pieces of the mag-rail train stretched for several kilometers. Craters decorated the place where some of them had broken free and tumbled end over end, smashing everything in their path. The more powerful sensors of his airship picked up crates and other package containers that probably still contained the ores and other materials intended for transshipment off the planet.
He couldn’t see with his eyes and wasn’t looking for it, but what he wanted to know was if there were casualties.
The report sent to Shaunte indicated there weren’t. Where SagCon was concerned, he doubted such reports. They didn’t value human or Unglok life unless there was a cost/benefit analysis attached to the usefulness.
He knew there were three towns in the area, one allegedly in use. The pictures he had seen made all three of them look like ghost towns made from materials not designed to last. Without really knowing why, he made several slow circles looking for the towns, until he found something interesting.
Settlement SC314, known to the locals as Raven’s Haven, sat about a kilometer beyond the blast area of the wrecked train. The main street bragged nearly a dozen prefabricated buildings, more on one side than the other. What Thad found interesting were the adobe style buildings and other creatively built structures that tripled the size of the town.
Maximus shifted under his chair several times as he circled looking for a new place to lie down.
“Getting comfortable down there?” Thad asked.
The dog-thing rolled its eyes and squished lower to the floor. Then it made a sound that Thad suspected was going to befoul the air of the ship’s cabin.
Thad held his breath and made for the town below. He needed to stretch his legs anyway.
* * *
Dust settled after he turned off the engines. He completed his systems checks, going through the detail with military precision. The routine soothed his nerves. He wondered why he hadn’t taken a ship up before this. Maybe when he got back, he would find a ground car to requisition and tear around Darklanding to blow off steam. That would be easier than flipping tires with his still-healing left arm.
Maximus struggled to his feet and lumbered around the small interior of the airship, grumbling and making weird shakes of his head.
Thad looked out the cockpit window. Nothing had changed. It was still night and the air was still full of dust. The twin moons hovering above the mountain range in the distance looked like a creep-show effect. Something tumbled down the middle of the street. He almost laughed at the video-show image. There was no way it could be a tumbleweed. He looked closer and saw it was a recycling bin riddled with holes from years of abuse. He imagined it blowing back and forth across the valley since the beginning of the Darklanding settlement.
“What do you think, Maximus? Are you ready for a walkabout?”
Maximus lay down as though ready for sleep.
Thad narrowed his gaze and thought about the implications of the animal’s body language. “You’re right. We should sleep. Thing is, I’m not feeling the urge. I’m going to step out. Are you coming?”
The large pig-dog struggled to its feet and snorted in displeasure. He continued to make the sound as they opened the cargo door and walked down the ramp.
“Are you going to complain the entire trip?” Thaddeus asked.
Maximus didn’t answer.
Without looking, Thaddeus checked his blaster under the knee-length fireman’s coat that he had taken to wearing since arriving on Darklanding. It fit like a good duster, something his ancestors had worn when working the range. At the same time, it was more durable. The weight of it felt reassuring. He brushed back the coat to grip the blaster, checking that his indexing was on point and he was ready to draw, then let the coat fall.
He looked around the town and realized a wind was coming up. Between the natural dust of the area and the debris from the recent catastrophe, it was an unpleasant time to be strolling down the street. Other containers and bits of trash blew down the street like tumbleweeds of the Old Western holographic shows. Lights blinked on the top of the prefabricated buildings and one radio tower at the edge of town.
Maximus lumbered down the ramp and sniffed the air.
Thad went to the security panel beside the ramp and punched in a code. He waited as the hydraulic arms raised the ramp. His tablet received a confirmation code that it was locked and secured against unauthorized access. He slipped the tablet back into the inner pocket of the coat and moved away from the ship.
“Looks like they battened down the hatches,” Thad said.
Maximus huffed and continued forward, unusually focused on the way ahead.
“I’m glad to see your attitude has changed, dog,” Thad said.
Maximus stopped and looked up at the sky as though expressing human consternation. He sighed, snorted—possibly farted—and began forward again. He swung his head left to right, then right to left, searching the area for God only knew what.
A short time later, two figures emerged from what looked like a science building at the end of the street. They had scarfs pulled over their faces to protect them from the dust. They moved quickly.
Thad adjusted the collar of his coat to protect his own mouth and nose. He squinted because he had not brought eye protection. Pulling his hat lower made him feel better even if it didn’t offer much protection. There was no glaring sun or precipitation. This was nightt
ime in the lowest canyon of Ungwilook with the debris of a train wreck still polluting the area.
“Looks like a man and a woman,” Thad said.
Maximus didn’t respond, and Thad wondered why he was talking to the difficult creature.
The man moved slightly ahead of his companion and offered a handshake. “My name is Ryan G. Gulliver. You didn’t arrive at a good time, but we can offer you some shelter if you need it.”
“Do you have a constable in this town?” Thad asked.
Ryan Gulliver shook his head. The woman stepped farther to Thad’s left, which immediately struck him as a solid tactical move. Neither one of them looked like law enforcement or military, but there was something different about them.
He shifted his stance so he could draw and fire on either of them with equal ease and waited for them to adjust their positions. It was a test, and an ungenerous test at that. Neither of them moved, but they glanced at each other before speaking.
“My name is Amanda Preston,” she said. “I’m the science officer here. Ryan is my surveyor. Raven’s Haven is not operating at full staffing levels.”
“SagCon?”
Amanda looked at Ryan, then faced Thad and shook her head. “SagCon shut us down two years ago.”
“Then what are you doing out here? This isn’t exactly a safe zone,” Thad said.
Ryan stiffened. He moved forward slightly, protective in a way that Amanda didn’t seem to appreciate. “We like the work. None of us are slaves to SagCon. And we can take care of ourselves.”
Thad let the conversation drop. Technically, all of Ungwilook was SagCon property. He could demand their subcontracting paperwork but decided not to. Maybe there would be time for that later, and maybe he would even care.
His train wreck investigation was an anomaly, and he did not expect to be out here much. Most of his work would be in Darklanding itself or the mines.
“Bring them inside, Ryan,” Amanda said. “The air is filthy with A19.”
“I didn’t think A19 was dangerous to humans,” Thaddeus said.
“It’s not lethal to humans. That doesn’t mean it’s good for us,” Ryan said. “That’s where everyone is. They’re all hunkered down until this mess dissipates.”
“Interesting,” Thaddeus said. “I was going to ask where everyone was.”
Thad studied his two companions as closely as he could without appearing to be checking them out.
Ryan and Amanda looked uncomfortable, shifting nervously and avoiding eye contact.
They led Thaddeus and Maximus to their science building. He recognized the antennas and other measuring devices on the exterior of the prefabricated structure. It was slightly larger, but in his experience, there would be few comforts inside. Scientists were even less concerned about aesthetics than soldiers were.
He noticed a line of patched holes on the door. “Who’s been shooting at your building?”
“Outlaws,” Amanda said.
CHAPTER SEVEN: The Running Girl
Sledge bolted up the stairs and kicked the girl’s door off the hinges. Inside, he found the window open with the curtain blowing in the wind.
Pierre, moving much faster than Sledge thought he could, arrived a second later. “What the hell are you doing? You’re gonna pay for that door. No one comes up here without my permission or Dixie’s approval.”
Sledge glanced over his shoulder to confirm his suspicion that the owner of the Mother Lode was carrying the stun gun. He spun quickly and lunged for the man, slapping the weapon to the ground.
“I’ll pay for the door. Let me give you a piece of friendly advice. Don’t ever point a weapon at me,” Sledge said in a low and dangerous voice. He returned to the girl’s room and looked around, briefly checking under the bed and in the bathroom. He knew she wasn’t there, but he liked to be thorough.
“Hurry up. If Dixie sees you up here, we’re both in trouble,” Pierre said.
“So now it’s okay with you if I come up here?” Sledge asked, not really caring about the answer.
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
Sledge didn’t even turn around. He went to the window and looked down. “Looks like I’m in luck, for once.”
The alley below the window only ran one way. The girl had a considerable head start, but there was only one direction she could go. He climbed out onto the steep rooftop, slipped and grabbed hold of the windowsill. With two careful steps, he reached the edge and jumped.
The drop was higher than he was comfortable with. Even with the moderate gravity of Ungwilook, his size punished him when he hit the ground. He absorbed the shock with his knees and hips, coming almost into a kneeling position before standing.
He glanced up and saw Pierre staring in wide-eyed surprise from the girl’s window. Some kind of local animal made noises near the end of the alleyway. Sledge started to jog.
“Come out, come out wherever you are, Ruby Miranda or whoever you’re calling yourself these days,” Sledge said.
He passed into the street, looked both ways, and then ran into the next alley. He doubted there were a lot of concerned citizens in Darklanding, but suspected the sight of a young prostitute fleeing the Mother Lode would at least draw attention to the girl as she escaped.
He thought she would use the alley until she got further away from the saloon.
Before long, he crossed the vacant lot where the sheriff often trained like a special forces commando. If the girl had thought to hide there, she had moved on already. He barely gave the place a second thought. The sheriff and his dog were nowhere to be seen. Deputy Mast Jotham was also absent.
A persistent haze, probably caused by the recent train derailment everyone was talking about, occluded the already insufficient night lighting of Darklanding. He continued to another one of the best hiding places in the prefabricated town. No building was taller than three stories, and few were two stories. There was an intersection, however, between granaries where locals stored some of their foodstuffs.
Anyone fleeing this direction would have to pass through the offset intersection.
“You’ll never catch me,” a voice said from above him.
He looked up and saw the girl. A confusion of emotions shot through him. He wasn’t sure if he should be excited, sad, or afraid. There had been other times he was this close and had failed to capture her. It was too soon to get his hopes up.
“Okay, Ruby. You know I’m not that good of a climber so why don’t you just surrender and I will try to make this easier for you,” he said.
She drew back into a shadow of the granary tower she had climbed halfway. “I’m not sure I see what’s in it for me.”
“It was worth a try,” Sledge said. He jumped, maximizing all of the explosive strength in his legs, and grabbed a railing only inches from the girl. She scrambled up and around the building as he knew she would and he immediately took a horizontal path to try and head her off.
Going up was useless. He knew she wanted down the other side so she could continue running. His goal was to force her into action and then be there to cut her off.
Dropping to the ground, he turned and looked up.
She jumped at the exact same moment, stepping on his forehead with her left foot as she sprang over him.
He roared a curse and spun, but it was too late. He was fast, but could not maintain a sprint for as long as she could. They had run this race before. Nevertheless, he charged forward and tried to grab her.
He slowed to a walk as she pulled away. “Darklanding isn’t a big place! You painted yourself into a corner this time!” he yelled after her fleeing figure. “Dammit.”
* * *
Ruby ripped the tarp from the three-wheeled buggy she had stolen and hidden shortly after arriving in Darklanding. Reaching into the side pocket of her safari pants, she pulled out the ignition ring needed to start it. They weren’t supposed to be removed and were nearly impossible to replace. As an experienced vehicle thief, she knew the best wa
ys to keep a vehicle from being stolen.
With a quick push and two quick turns, she reassembled the ignition mechanism, then hotwired it. The engine, louder than she had hoped, started right up. She jumped behind the wheel and raced out of the trash pile and onto the street, tires squealing as she mashed her foot down on the gas pedal.
The SagCon goon was right. She had painted herself into a bit of a tight spot. Darklanding was too small to hide her for long. She only wished it had taken Sledge longer to track her this far.
Violent memories slammed through her consciousness as she sped across the Darklanding mesa. Her original plan had been to follow the trolley route toward the mine if and when she needed a fast escape. One look at the clouds of dust covering the canyons below the mesa changed her mind. She veered toward the dangerous switchback roads leading downward into a seemingly magical dust cloud.
Snap decisions had helped her escape many times. This was different. Going into the canyon was a mistake. She felt it in her gut. It went against everything her father, grandfather, and great grandfather had taught her.
The go-bag behind her seat only held food for a week and water for two days. She was small and thought she might stretch it a bit longer. Wishful thinking was another dubious survival tactic the icons of her family frowned upon.
The exhilaration of escape faded as she steered aggressively around each turn leading into the canyon. She tried to look up and see the enormous mesa that Darklanding was built upon, but the angle was bad and all she felt was an oppressive shadow weighing on her. Visibility was decent here, but she could tell that the farther she went into Transport Canyon, the denser the lingering cloud of dust would be.
She only wished she wasn’t right about the train derailment. Thaddeus Fry and Mast Jotham were respectable and honorable, for lawmen. She hadn’t seen the Unglok deputy for a while and wondered where he was. Fry was gone now as well; she had looked for him during her escape from the SI goon.
She hit the brakes and cranked the wheel, sending the buggy into a slide that almost went over the edge of the narrow road. This was like climbing a ladder in a vehicle and was a lot more difficult than it looked. Especially at high speeds. She slowed down and wondered why she was thinking so much about the type of people she normally avoided on other planets. Sheriffs, cops, and special investigators were never friends to runaways.
