The Chronicles of Clyde- Ghost Ship

by F. E. Arliss

  Floating up into the habitation dome, Daer startled two workers who were in hibernation pods. When their huge eyes popped open, Daer gave the universal sign for quiet, putting one finger over her mouth and shaking her head. Both scientists nodded, flipped out of their pods in graceful arcs, and followed her.

  Miming movements for a gun or laser, Daer raised one eyebrow in question. Both raised slenderly rubbery shoulders in doubt. Nodding, Daer proceeded down the connecting habitation tube. Peering through the small window in the hatch that separated the lab from the habitation pod, Daer could see that both guards were looking quite bored. Still, opening the door suddenly wasn’t going to work.

  As it turned out, she didn’t need to work out a plan. Alarms went off in an hysterical burst of clanging and shrieks. Both guards rushed for the dock, where to their minds, was the only entrance. Hurriedly, slamming the hatch behind them, they retreated to see what was attacking. This was their chance!

  Daer spun the hatch and swam up to the airlock above. Gasping for air, she checked the time remaining on her breather and slid it into the small strap on her wrist. Motioning for the scientists to join their companions from the habitation pod and instructing them to go back to the habitation and leave the facility via the tube she’d knocked open, Daer set about finding out how to destroy the algae.

  Not seeing anything that could help, Daer grew frustrated. Finally, stopping to think about what she’d learned in her training and during the months on Gem 8, Daer formed a vague plan. She’d seen some of the piston-shaped cartridges emblazoned with ‘hydrogen - combustible’. They were most likely used to make an ammonia-based compound to help grow the algae.

  Stacked in one corner was a large pallet of dry-cell batteries. Probably for use in one of the machines.

  Ok, ok, so she had hydrogen and zinc. That should make a pretty huge boom if she could expose the contents of the batteries and the cartridges to each other. How the hell was she supposed to do that? The result would make water. So much the better. Those bastards would be stranded in a slowly sinking pod and if the structure didn’t buckle, it would soon be so full of water that it would sink anyway.

  A soft hand-like appendage turned her to face one of the female Gatekans she’d startled in the habitat. Gently swaying motions gestured towards a door in one of the cabinets. When Daer opened it, she practically shouted with joy. Grinning at the other woman, both soon were carrying as many batteries and cartridges as they could and dumping them down the compacting chute. Daer wasn’t surprised when she spotted an Evelson Corporation stamp on the bottom of the batteries.

  Gunfire sounded outside. Much of it had a deep whump, whump, whumping sound. Underwater, Daer assumed. Some of the higher pitched sounds were probably the guards returning fire.

  Heaving one last load of cartridges into the chute, Daer slapped the ‘on’ button to green, double-checked that it was commencing the ‘crush cycle’, then ran like hell for the hatch to the habitat. Both she and her companion turned the wheel to seal the hatch, hoping to buy them a few seconds more to gain distance. Then Daer slammed the breather into her mouth and they both dove for freedom.

  It took about two minutes for the crusher to reach critical and for the cartridges and batteries to be crushed open. A gigantic sound that mimicked the ones she used to hear on Gem 8 when the blasting caps deep underground were blown, hit her seconds before the wave of displaced sea. The percussive blow knocked her unconscious and dislodged the breather from her mouth. Darkness closed in.

  When Daer came to, she wasn’t dead. “Oooooh, not dead,” she muttered as pain washed over her entire frame. “Ah shit. Soooo, not dead.”

  “Nope, my girl’s not dead. She’s way too tough for that. And way too good of a swimmer, floater, water-worlder to die,” Digger murmured in her ear. “You did great babe. Absolutely brilliantly! Blowing those zinc and hydrogen tubes together...total genius.”

  Daer unglued her gummy lids long enough to peek up at him. “Glad you liked it. I had help,” she grunted out. As his strong hand rubbed her bruised shoulder, she added, “Don’t touch, strongman. Girl is sore!” Then whispered, “Mole? The Gatekans?”

  Digger nodded. “Yeah, the Gatekans gave us some information we’re following up on. There’s to be a shipment next week of the stolen mineral. The shipment is to rendezvous with the Idolum algae from the mole. So we’re close, very close, to finding out who our sources are. We’re back on board the Centurion now and we’ll be heading back to Uzi to set up for the meet. Hopefully, by this time next week, we’ll have these rat bastards in the hold,” Digger said vehemently.

  “Your Gatekans are all safe. They’re having a merry ol’ time with their kin in the aqua-vats we set up. We’ll return them to Gateca once we’ve finished this mess. We can’t afford to let information leak out,” he finished resolutely.

  Sighing with relief, Daer held her eyes open long enough to whisper, “Evelson Corp trademarks on the batteries.” Then she slipped happily into sleep once more.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Keep Your Friends Close

  It was a long week and nerves were stretching thin as the crew waited for the mole’s rendezvous with the representative from Evelson Corp. Hopefully, they’d have enough evidence to bury both the mole and the last of the Evelsons.

  Daer, Digger, and Alfie had all been dispersed around the spaceport on Uzi where the Evelsons did most of their business. Voc had been dropped off at the valley fortress and was keeping an eye on the comings and goings of the evil fortress’ inhabitants. So far, Harold Evelson, Princess Arc Exousia’s birth brother and last remaining Evelson heir, had kept a low profile. Presumably hunkered down after the loss of the lab on Gateca.

  A lot was riding on this upcoming meeting. They wanted to catch all of them in the act and close down the illegal lab and slave ring on Mirage. It was a lot to hope for.

  When Voc’s rumbly voice sounded over the comms that Harold Evelson was leaving the fortified compound dressed as a miner, the whole team knew the game was on. As Princess Arc Exousia said, “Nothing could induce Harold Evelson out of his three-thousand credit suits except fear.” Harold was afraid. And that meant he might make a mistake.

  When the Clyde took to the air to return to the Centurion, Digger had already planted a microscopic bio-engineered tracking device on the Evelson cruiser he’d boarded. The cruiser, too, had been repainted and disguised as an older model now being used as a worker transport. General Apollo also homed in on the cruiser’s ion signature and as Clyde landed in the Centurion’s bay, the sleek Idolum nest ship was already silently tracking Harold Evelson across the galaxy.

  All of them were surprised when the cruiser, after a few detours and loops meant to throw off any would-be pursuit, headed straight for Renegar. Tensions were high now. This meant the mole was on Renegar. That also meant that it was someone they knew well and loved as family. It was silently tearing them all apart.

  General Apollo had communicated somehow with his mother and Sasha Kelty. Queen Altum Juls was on her way to Renegar now. That no one had been able to trace the communications winging from Renegar to the cruiser was a source of great confusion for them all. As they neared Renegar, the silence on board the Centurion was so tense that Daer’s neck hair constantly writhed with tension. She finally pulled a high-necked armor shirt on over her head to control the wayward hairs.

  The Evelson cruiser had landed on a low desert valley several hundred miles from the habitation they all used. The rest of Renegar was burned with desert winds and fried from the two suns that hovered high on that side of the mountain range that divided the planet. It was a location close enough to the habitat to be picked up by their beacons, but far enough away that any meeting could be accomplished in a few minutes and the cruiser would escape. It was the ‘sweet spot’ in the weaknesses of Renegar’s defenses. Digger bet it wouldn’t be after this.

  As General Apollo strained to pick up any familiar life-form signature that he was familia
r with, his mother’s ship, the Talio, dropped out of fold-space practically on top of the Evelson cruiser. It was brilliant timing.

  As the crew of the Centurion watched from the observation decks, small hover jets blasted out over the plateau from the direction of the habitat. Daer could see that the cruiser was desperately trying to take off as great swirls of red dust eddied around its rear thrusters. It stayed firmly in place. Later, she would find out that it was all Queen Altum Juls doing. The Queen simply didn’t allow the ethers around the ship to budge.

  In the meantime, Captain Kelty and her crew, including the large Vanguardian Caja, dismounted and stood ready to board the cruiser. Just as the ramp to the cruiser lowered, General Apollo’s voice came over the comms, “I’ve found one life signature I’m familiar with. It is the lifesign for the Tadswam botanist, Jeffrey. The small frog-like creature,” he stated calmly.

  Daer practically wailed with disbelief. She’d really liked the little guy, Jeffrey. He’d been so sweet, so funny. He was, she had to acknowledge, the perfect guy to grow algae. Little bastard, she thought, her mood turning in a second to rage.

  As the boarding crew entered the cruiser, its engines shut down and the Talio, Queen set down nearby. It was a smaller vessel than the Centurion and could fit in the restricted space. A hoard of tall, lanky, white-haired Idolum warriors swarmed over the smaller cruiser. Soon, a line of human, Dreasing, and Idolum perpetrators were frog-marched onto the Talio. And, no doubt, Daer thought, straight into holding cells.

  Sasha Kelty emerged, her red-hair was snapping and whipping in the dust-laden air. Clearly, she was enraged. Following her was her First Mate, Caja. Dangling from his prosthetic arm was the tiny Tadswam.

  Jeffrey had been dumped into a small diatitanium bell-shaped aquarium. His small form was crumpled into the bottom of the water-filled vessel and he appeared to have his small arms lopped over his eyes.

  Daer felt her eyes prickle with tears. She almost felt sorry for him. Sasha had to be devastated. As they were all to convene at the habitat on the great plateau, she’d soon see for herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Signed, Sealed, Delivered

  The next two hours were a symphony of questions and explanations as the entire group began to fit together the long and convoluted story of the tiny Tadswam and his conspiracy with the Evelson Corporation.

  Jeffrey had originally learned his craft on his homeworld, Tadsgate. His own family was dead, killed in a Dreasing attack. When the Intergalactic Guard had come to rescue the survivors of that attack, they had ‘rehomed’ him to Gateca. “Like I was some sort of abandoned pet!” Jeffrey had squeaked out belligerently. “Even Sasha says I am a Tadswam from Gateca! I am NOT! I am a Tadswam of Tadsgate! My planet may be ravaged, but I am still who I am!”

  Daer could understand that. She could see from Sasha’s teary bright eyes that she did too. Soon Earth might be gone, but she and Sasha would still be Earthers. It was sad.

  Posted on the isolated science pod where they’d found the Evelson algae lab, Jeffrey only got to see other Tadswam when he was allowed to accompany a shipment to one of the larger cities. That happened about once a year. Daer could see how the isolation and loss of contact with his own kind could be very hard. As an ‘off-worlder’ he was usually assigned the worst of the jobs on the lab station. It had hurt his feelings and caused him to resent the Gatekans, though Daer knew they’d meant no harm. They’d just been thoughtless.

  When the Evelsons had approached him with the offer of a freshwater lake colony for Tadswam on Mirage, in exchange for his help growing the algae, he hadn’t hesitated. The only downside had been when he got the job on Renegar in order to try and track the Idolum algae they needed to replicate. He had ended up caring deeply for Sasha, her mother, Dolores, and the others. The little toad cried piteously while he was explaining this. No one had a dry eye except Voc and rock god, both of whom harrumphed in doubt.

  Still, it didn’t change the fact that Jeffrey had sold out his old workmates at the Gatekan aqualab and allowed them to be enslaved and tortured. Nor did it change the fact that the Alliance had trusted him and he’d stolen from them.

  Jeffrey begged forgiveness of Sasha and Caja, and pled ignorance to the conditions on Mirage and the slave colonies there that were building his water paradise for him and his Tadswam compatriots.

  Sasha Kelty had a contact in the Intergalactic Guard. When the Uzi-based coordinates from the Evelson cruiser’s databases had been transmitted to them, the Guard immediately raided the Evelson fortress and all its corporate offices. Jump ships full of squads of Guardsmen descended on the back side of Uzi in a flash.

  Daer noticed that Sasha had made no mention of the planet of Mirage. They had yet to root out the evil there. She suspected they were off to do that next.

  She and Digger had received pardons from all charges when the huge web of intrigue had finally been unraveled. It turned out that Shawn Lawrence had been in the employ of the Evelson Corporation from the beginning. She and Digger had simply rolled their eyes. That made so much sense. He’d hated them and gone for the frame-up out of spite and ease of access. He’d be rotting away on the Delta 5 prison colony for a long, long time.

  Digger and Daer were both intrigued to see how Sasha Kelty would be able to keep any contact or aid from her Alliance and Idolum counterparts completely out of the equation. She was good, they both had to admit that! The woman was a master of diplomacy under fire. Though at night around her own crew, she was one uninhibited, wild child. Her grandmother simply looked on with an indulgent smile on her face and sometimes joined in the wild dancing and laughter.

  “Half the bad guys are signed, sealed, and delivered. It’s time you and I were, too.” With that, he kissed her passionately.

  Daer broke away grinning.“Let’s find a supply closet,” she gasped, yanking on his arm. “I think I saw one back here.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Mirage Morphed

  Queen Altum Juls didn’t mess around. Her ship, Talio, landed on Renegar, the crew loaded all they’d need for an assault on Mirage’s Eveleson-held bases, and she was airborne in under an hour. She had asked Commander Kelty and Blue to accompany her.

  Using her tremendous power to channel energy, just as her son General Apollo had done with the Lance, the Talio was hovering over Mirage within days. What should have taken them months, had taken only a handful of days. Daer was once again impressed by the unfathomable power of the Osmirians.

  Blue had set immediately to work contacting the Tatula people. Queen Altum Juls and Sasha Kelty asked for a meeting with the planet’s leader. Blue would translate. Daer would be included as the meeting was to be held on the water and one of the Elders of the Tatula refused to come to the surface to converse. She, with a translation device, would relay the conversation to him. Daer was elated.

  As the small hovercraft carrying them to the meeting descended through the atmosphere of Mirage, Daer was impressed by the wildness of the planet’s surface. Massive oceans rolled and landmasses dominated by huge mountain ranges ringed small open plains. It was beautiful. Like Earth, but more savage.

  The hovercraft settled onto the surface of the water at the coordinates they’d agreed upon. Sasha had the rear ramp of the small ship lowered and it became a pontoon-like platform that floated easily on the waves. After a few minutes of waiting and enjoying the sun and ocean sounds, a disc-shaped saucer slid to the surface of the water alongside them. Daer almost laughed. It looked like those flying saucers they used to see in old vids about the place where aliens had supposedly crashed in Roswell, New Mexico back on Earth. Only this one was much smaller and shallower and held a series of figures on its surface. As the saucer floated gently up to the side of their own craft, Blue began translating from the approaching Tatulan delegation.

  “Welcome to our planet. We are glad you have come,” Blue translated to Sasha and Queen Altum Juls...who Daer suspected didn’t actually need a translator a
t all. Daer mouthed her small breather, adjusted her flippers and with a nod of approval from the central Tatulan Elder, slipped into the water. The Tatulan who refused to surface appeared quite a bit older to Daer than the delegates on the surface.

  She halted in front of the figure, seated elegantly cross-legged on the silty bottom of the sea, and slowly let her own form settle to the ground in front of him. Daer hoped she would raise as little silt as possible and was pleased when only a small puff of residue spread out around her. She made no effort to sit in the same posture, as her flippers would have made such an attempt ridiculous. Bowing slightly to the Elder in front of her, Daer held the screen with the translations in front of her chest and concentrated on exhaling very slowly. Praying her breather would last sufficiently for the task, Daer began to try to read the expression of her host.

  It took about an hour to get the preliminary greetings and background on the evil doings of the Eveleson Corporation on the Tatulan landmass explained properly. The Tatulans on the surface, between dips for rehydration, were clearly floored and bewildered by what they were being told. It was decided that an exploratory swim by, and fly by, would be helpful. Clearly, the Tatulan people were a peaceful species that expected the best in others.