“We’ll always have a place for you on our clock,” Barry said. He looked at Trader and frowned. “If the others keep insisting that we use the damned system.”
“You’re not fans?” Jake said. “I’ve only been—”
“This can wait,” Trader said. “Can we come inside for a chat after looking around the ship?”
“Sounds urgent,” Beth said. “What are you hoping to find? All loose objects were taken years ago.”
“It is urgent. Very urgent. Jake needs to access the comms console. What I’m going to tell you has a direct consequence. We don’t have much time.”
“Very well, Trader,” Barry said. He unclipped a handheld radio from the side of his coverall, depressed a button on the side, and held it to his mouth. “Epsilon guard, this is Barry. Trader and Captain Phillips will be accessing the ship. No need to raise an alarm.”
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Captain,” Beth said. “We’re looking forward to talking when you return.”
Jake found it slightly strange that they acted like they knew him and spoke as if he was a returning son. He did feel grateful that they’d brought his ship inside a stronghold and kept him alive. “I have a few questions for you, like the fate of the rest of my crew.”
“Can’t help you with that,” Barry said. “You were the only one left. I’m sorry.”
“Until later.” Beth smiled and closed the door.
Trader glared at Jake. “Don’t lose focus and start your own private investigations. Our priority is to identify the rogue officer and act accordingly.”
“I won’t. Do you know how I can get into the cockpit? I found the port door jammed when I first came out of stasis.”
“There’s a staircase on the opposite side that leads to the front of the ship.”
“Keep your fingers crossed that it works, because the one in the stasis chamber didn’t.”
“The screens are readable. Loads have tried to access the system. Epsilon had to rope the area off to stop people from playing with the controls.”
Jake didn’t want to waste any time and headed straight for the woodland. A well-beaten path led through the middle, straight to the rickety wooden staircase.
Trader moved ahead after reaching the clearing and turned left on a gravel path that circled the ship.
He stopped, lit a cigarette, and blew smoke in the air. “I remember when this used to be popular.”
“I remember when it used to fly.”
Jake wondered how many humans had visited Endeavor Three, inspecting it like a zoo or ancient pyramid, with him as the main exhibit. The Orbital Bombers used to be the pride of the Fleet. The crafts that would ensure their long-term safety, and it was considered an honor to be part of the crew. They were never designed with voyeuristic pleasure in mind.
Walking past the smooth nose cone at the front of the ship, Jake could see both staircases. The original one he descended and another that climbed to the starboard side emergency exit. Viewing the symmetry of both from the front made it look like a ramshackle roller coaster had been built through the vessel.
Trader screwed his cigarette end into the ground with his heel. He ascended the fifty creaking wooden stairs, and Jake followed closely behind.
Climbing this side of the ship gave Jake a view of the southern end of the wall. He remembered that Epsilon had just under three thousand inhabitants and knew they wouldn’t have a chance of holding such a large circumference against an attack from a larger group. An assault could try to establish a breach in several locations, or take a spot on the wall using ladders, allowing the enemy to stream over. Nothing changed his mind about pooling resources. The second part of his Epsilon mission would be to convince the stronghold to move, survive and win.
Trader leaned against the entrance and took a few deep breaths. “Through there … Door’s open.”
It only seemed like two days ago that Jake sat in one of the two black leather seats in the cockpit, viewing Earth from orbit. Everything looked the same, although the leather, gray laminated controls and blue interior were all slightly faded and an odor like polish hung in the air. He scanned the flight controls first. All were in the manual landing position, so they were purposely brought down by a pilot.
A small dark green square winked on the comms console. The only unit to have power in the cockpit. This wasn’t unexpected on skeleton settings, although the beacon signal on landing would’ve been futile in terms of expecting a response. Once bunkers went on lockdown, they didn’t respond to distress signals.
Jake sat at the stool and hit the keyboard. The password prompt flashed across the screen in light green letters.
He input his password, and the main screen fired up. It confirmed the date as May 20th, 2205. From here, he accessed the file manager, opened up the ship's monitoring folder, opened up the stasis log, and read through the last ten events.
A crew member activated all pods for waking procedure in 2165, apart from Jake’s. Nothing then until yesterday morning, when the same crew member activated his waking procedure. C1437. He now had two officers to look up. More importantly, his suspicions about the coincidental nature of waking were justified.
“What you looking at?” Trader said.
“Looks like we’ve got another officer on the loose. He woke me up yesterday morning.”
“You’re kidding me.”
Jake ran his finger across a line on the screen. “See for yourself.”
Trader leaned forward, and Jake received a waft of stale smoke while he whispered the text to himself. “Did you see anyone in Epsilon you recognized?”
“I didn’t hang around to check out faces.”
Jake didn’t know what to make of the latest revelation. If a member of the crew woke him up, he couldn’t understand why they disappeared straight after. He drilled down to the Fleet resource file, input his captain’s pass-code, the date of the moon landing, and a box popped on the screen asking for a surname or number.
He input C1437 first. The chance of an old friend or ally in the new world proved too much to resist. The pointer spun for a second and the information flashed across the screen. Jake took a deep breath.
C1437 – Flight Lieutenant Gary Mills – Pilot
D.O.B: 11.11.2045
Location: Endeavor Three
He stared at the picture of his fresh-faced partner for the Sixth Cycle.
“I don’t believe it,” Jake said. “Where the hell is he, and why did he wake me up?”
Trader shook his head. “Forget about that for now. Find out who Sky Man is. That’s what we came for.”
“You can’t blame me for being a little surprised.”
“How does it improve our situation?”
Jake shrugged. “No idea, but I’d like to know where he is and what he knows.”
He closed down Mill’s info and input C3431 into the prompt box.
The information flashed across the screen.
Jake leaned forward and shook his head.
Trader gasped.
C3431 – Captain Alexander Finch – Facility Manager
D.O.B: 04.10.2043
Location: Oregon
Chapter Nineteen
Late evening sunshine poured between the rusty bars of Skye’s cell. She stretched her neck and enjoyed the last moments of warmth before spending an uncomfortable night on the cold stone floor. She craved sleep, but snorting and clucking from the pens and shed outside would probably keep her awake, when her mind didn’t race over the events of the last twenty-four hours.
She peered at a distant section of the wall and hoped to catch a guard’s attention. Somebody needed to listen to reason; otherwise they would be attacked without warning. Nobody came close to her cell, no doubt wanting to avoid being held guilty by association. All around the stronghold, people went about their usual early evening business, closing up the stores, returning from the fields, and changing the guard around the rampart.
Her neck felt naked w
ithout the tag chain. For ten years, Skye wore her tags as a confirmation of Omega citizenship. She never dreamed of them being taken away, especially by Finch.
Confronting him without support backfired, but she had little choice considering the impending attack. Her hopes rested with Trader and Jake. They knew what was coming. They would do something.
She hated feeling useless locked up in a cell.
Her stomach growled, but people in cells weren’t served food. She thought about dining with Finch yesterday and shook her head. It made her feel stupid to know that all the time she sat there eating his pea and ham soup, he played her like a fiddle, making her do his corrupt bidding.
Skye stared at the ceiling. A small black spider busily spun a web in the corner around a captured fly. She felt just as trapped. Bashing her way through the decaying corrugated cover would bring a guard before she had a chance to escape.
Footsteps squashed through the mud toward her. She pressed her face against the bars and looked to the right.
Sam Bennett, looking unwashed with dark rings around his tired eyes, glanced around while approaching the cell.
“What are you doing here?” Skye said. “If Finch finds you, he’ll take your tags.”
Sam pointed his rifle at her. “This is just for show in case I’m being watched. Ross ordered us to leave the steps in place. Said you were lying about the wastelanders. I was sent up to the mansion for a meeting with Finch.”
“Did he punish you for listening to me?”
“After he finished ranting about the lack of loyalty, he sent me back to the captain’s tower. Ross told me that he took your tags.”
Skye felt her neck again and remembered Finch ripping them away. She shuddered at the thought of him licking her face after doing it.
Sam gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Skye. What I don’t understand is why he’s keeping you locked up. Why weren’t you thrown out?”
There was only one thing that made sense.
“He wants to keep me quiet. Doesn’t want me getting in contact with Trader or the other strongholds. I’m not crazy. The wastelander army is real. Can you get a message to Trader for me?”
Sam turned away. Two guards gazed over from outside a pillbox on the rampart. “He’s promoted Ross to General of the Guard. He’s in charge of all our defenses.”
On the face of it, the promotion seemed ridiculous, but it wasn’t if Finch wanted an ineffective commander. Ross didn’t know his ass from his elbow and couldn’t organize a fart at a curry-eating contest.
“That rat sold me out. You can’t trust him an inch. He only acts out of self-interest and will betray you if it means another fat cigar in Finch’s study.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Sam said. He paused and sheepishly looked at the ground. “There’s more … I’ve been made captain.”
Skye stared at his guilt-ridden face and tried to gauge if she’d misjudged him too. His reward for playing along would only be short term if he didn’t listen to reason.
“Doesn’t mean a thing if we get overrun and slaughtered this evening.”
“Finch told me it was payment for my loyalty and silence. He said things were going to change and that he has big plans for our immediate future.”
“He’s right about the last part, but not in the way you think.”
“I’m not buying his crap, Skye. If you and Trader both say this thing is happening, that’s good enough for me.”
Skye smiled and hoped he wouldn’t turn when she requested a second time, “I could kiss you, Sam Bennett. Tell the Trader I’ve been locked up and Finch is hiding something. He’ll know what to do.”
“Okay. I’ll take a vehicle out and contact him on his channel. Is there anything else you need me to do?”
Skye thought for a moment. “No. We’ve still got until tomorrow for him to get here and sort things out. Don’t put yourself at risk. We need every good fighter available. If the Trader doesn’t show by mid-afternoon, we’ll have to launch our own coup and destroy the steps.”
Sam nodded and slung his rifle. “I’ll get right to it.”
Skye breathed a sigh of relief and leaned against the wall of her cell. At least she had part of a plan in place. She disliked having things out of her own control, but her options were limited. Sam gave her a timely reminder that they had something good worth saving. Finch and Ross were the ones who needed to be banished.
Raised voices came from behind the chicken shed, followed by two dull thuds. A man cried out in pain. People were heading toward her. She smelled cigar smoke on the gentle breeze.
Ross and Finch, the latter dressed in old-fashioned combat clothing, dragged Sam by his arms to the front of her cell. He groggily tried to raise his head.
Finch kicked him in the jaw. “If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a traitor.”
Sam slumped in the dirt and moaned through blood-soaked lips. Ross leaned down and handcuffed him.
Skye glared at Finch. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m repeating history. This animal has fallen into my trap.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“In colonial Africa, Major Godfrey Finch used an excellent hunting method to capture his prey. He would tie a young boy to a tree and wait for a tiger to appear before shooting it. I am my forefather, you are the boy, and Bennett is my tiger.”
Skye shook her head. “You need help. Sam came here to interrogate me for information as your new captain.”
Ross sneered and ran his golden general’s baton along the bars. “Once bitten, twice shy. Drop the act. We’re not swallowing your lies.”
“You’re not a citizen of this or any stronghold,” Finch said. “You have no rights under the terms of our treaty, and anyone found assisting you will also be made an outlaw.”
“Why are you doing this?” Skye said. “Have you made a deal with Sky Man and his wastelanders?”
“My motivations are none of your concern. General Ross, please restrain Bennett.”
Ross dragged Sam to his feet, gripping him by the shoulders.
Finch groaned. “Don’t let him stand.”
He kicked the back of Sam’s legs, and he dropped to his knees. He looked up at Skye with fear in his eyes and opened his mouth, but no words came out of his trembling lips. Finch scowled at him, took a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket, and wiped blood from his right knuckle.
“General Ross, may I have your radio, please? I believe our good friend, the Trader, is probably well in range of Omega by now.”
“He won’t let you get away with whatever you’ve planned.” Skye said. “It was one thing to take over like you did, I heard all about it from James Ryder, but you’ve gone too far. All of our lives are at risk.”
Finch ignored her and snatched the radio from Ross. He switched it to Trader’s channel and passed it through the bars.
Skye frowned. “What do you expect me to do with this?”
“Call the toad, tell him all is well in Omega and the wastelander army is heading straight past us.”
She held it back toward him. “What kind of a fool do you think I am?”
“I thought you said their army didn’t—” Ross said.
“Shut up, General. I can demote you as fast as I promoted you.” Finch ripped his pistol from his holster and placed it against Sam’s temple. “You’ll do it, Skye, and be convincing, or I’ll kill him.”
Ross’ eyes widened and he backed away.
“You’re many things,” Skye said to Ross. “But you can’t let this happen. He’s admitted about the army. That’s one of your men he’s pointing a gun at.”
“I’m sure we can sort this out,” Ross stuttered. “I mean, you aren’t really going to shoot him, are you, Governor?”
Finch glared at Ross. “How dare you question me? This man is an outlaw. I have the right to kill him if I want. You need to read the treaty if you want to keep your position.”
Ross looked down
at his baton and avoided eye contact. “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
Finch nodded and focused back on Skye. “Call him now.” He put a round in the chamber. “Five. Four. Three. Two.”
Skye couldn’t decide if he was bluffing, but she couldn’t risk Sam’s life on gambling the wrong way. She lifted the radio to her mouth and pushed the button. “Trader, this is Skye. Do you copy?”
The radio crackled. “Trader here, but you’re coming through pretty weak. What the hell were you thinking running off like that?”
She looked up at Finch. He jabbed his muzzle against Sam’s head.
“I’m in Omega with Finch. I was wrong about him. He’s scouted the wastelanders, and they’re bypassing our strongholds and heading north.”
“Did he tell you this?”
Finch gave her a single nod.
“Yes. There’s no need for you to worry.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure, but we’ll keep on the lookout.”
“Thanks for letting me know. Tell him we won’t be visiting tomorrow.”
Her heart sank. The best she could hope for now was for Finch to release both of them to spend the rest of their lives as outlaws. Avoiding an army of wastelanders without weapons provided a bleak outlook for anyone outside the walls. The situation wasn’t much better for the citizens behind them. They would be attacked without warning.
“Are you still there, Skye?” Trader said.
“I’m here. Where are you?”
“Epsilon with Jake and my crew. I’ll contact you on Friday. Don’t go running off like that again, okay?”
“I’ll speak to you then. Skye out.”
Finch held out his hand. “You’ve got quite a talent for lying. Give me the radio.”
“Can we leave now?”
He flashed his uneven yellow teeth. “I’m gonna show you how we deal with traitors in my new system.”
“Wait!” Skye said.
She sprang forward, thrust her hand through the bars, and tried to reach for his pistol. Finch leaned away and shook his head. He holstered his weapon. “I wouldn’t waste a round of ammunition on a snake.”
Sixth Cycle Page 17
