by Matt Verish
Table of Contents
Title Page
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ALSO AVAILABLE
IN MEMORIUM
ONE LAST THING....
DAEDALUS
PART ONE | SMUGGLER’S RUN
1 | SENTINEL
2 | DISCONNECT
3 | RETALIATION
4 | RECONNECTED
5 | COMPROMISED
6 | TRANSFER
7 | BROADCAST
8 | COMPLETE
PART TWO | THE LABYRINTH
9 | SAGITTARIUS
10 | PARTICLES
11 | ABANDONED
12 | GUARDIAN
13 | BETRAYED
14 | SIGNALS
15 | FORESIGHT
16 | REVELATION
PART THREE | METAMORPHOSIS
17 | EVOLUTION
18 | CANNIBAL
19 | WHISPERS
20 | FOG
21 | SUFFOCATION
22 | RECKLESS
23 | REVENGE
24 | WICKED
25 | CONSEQUENCES
ICARUS LOG 004:
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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ICARUS
Interstellar Cargo: Book One
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
No part of this work may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the authors.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2016 by Matt Verish (Night Apple, LLC)
Written by Matt Verish
Edited by Stefanie Verish
Cover design by Tom Edwards Designs
eBook layout by Matt Verish
Author photo by Stefanie Verish
First published: 12/01/2016
ALSO AVAILABLE
Interstellar Cargo Series
Icarus
Daedalus
Lazarus
Short Story
Asterius
IN MEMORIUM
This book is dedicated to my brother-in-law, Jeff. He left this mortal plane much too soon, but his memory is deeply imprinted on the hearts and in the minds of those who know and love him. Though he lost his fight to an enemy more sinister than anything my mind could conjure, his battle continues on in earnest through friends and family. Some may not look back on the last years of his life with much fondness, but those few—myself included—who took the time to understand his illness, will see through to the loving soul who was lost to the deadly labyrinth. I hope he is at peace now, and I promise to acknowledge on his memory through my actions and lead by example.
Jeff is the inspiration for a character in this novel, and I’m only too happy to see his spirit live on indefinitely through the power of storytelling. I hope his presence is felt throughout, as it was when I was writing Daedalus. I miss him dearly.
Rest in peace, JP
August 1st, 2016
ONE LAST THING....
“Whether we make it or not, we can’t let that Thing freeze again. Maybe we’ll just warm things up a little around here. We’re not getting’ outta here alive. But neither is that Thing.”
-MacReady, helicopter pilot, US outpost #31.
DAEDALUS
PART ONE
SMUGGLER’S RUN
ICARUS LOG 003:
“Well, it looks like I need to make another farewell speech. It really sucks to say that, considering how well things seemed to be going the last time I made one of these. But I’m captain of the Icarus, and I was destined to get lost in the Labyrinth. I’m not entirely sure of the who, what, where, when, or the why, but I am pretty certain this whole debacle is all my fault.”
1
SENTINEL
CAIN!
The ground beneath Cole’s feet shook as another dense security door slammed closed somewhere behind him. He could not manage a coherent thought with the klaxons blaring throughout the facility. The sizzling of plastol bursts eating into the steel walls was entirely too close. Shots meant for him. Goddamn Sentinel.
Cole pressed into his comm piece to better hear the AI’s familiar monotone. As he rounded a corner, he slammed shoulder-first into a wall, gasping for breath. “Lecture later. Solutions now!”
“Solutions!” Cole shouted, no longer communicating via Ocunet.
“What aren’t you understanding, Cain?” Cole demanded. He glimpsed a flash out of the corner of his eye and knew his mechanical pursuers were nearly upon him. My little ruse won’t last much longer. “I know I’m screwed. I need you to un-screw me.”
“Yeah, well now’s not the time for long-winded explanations,” Cole said in a huff. He checked the nearest door despite the AI’s insistence. It was, of course, locked. He sprinted down the long, empty hall, cringing as his knee threatened to seize up on him. “Care to tell me...why you’re forcing me...into an early grave? Short answer, please.”
“Good! That’s all you...had to say.”
“That’s not good... What’s blocking it? No, wait... Lemme guess: The Sentinel?”
“Tell me again...how’s this supposed...to help me?”
“What?” Cole stumbled around another corner and crashed to the floor. He crawled up against the wall and grabbed his throbbing knee. Sweat dripped into his eyes, and he blinked away the stinging. “Who says I’m wanted alive? Last I checked, your angry security cousin was shooting at me, and I’m sure it’s not happy about my little bomb fiasco.”
Cole readjusted the small satchel slung over his shoulder and glanced down at the plastol neatly tucked into his holster. He swore. “You said carrying it wouldn’t matter.”
Smart-ass. He heard that. Cole stood with a grimace and turned toward the intended direction. “Once my holosphere bites it, my sidearm’s all I got.”
A small explosion carried above the din of klaxons in response to Cole’s comment, and he knew the holographic diversion of himself had met its end. The Sentinel would now seek the real Cole Musgrave. He shoved off the wall, and his gimped run began anew.
“So if I ditch my sidearm,” Cole began, his hand fiddling with the belt securing his holster, “Mr. Sentinel will let me walk out a free man?”
“It wouldn’t be a typical mission for the crew of the Icarus without complications, now would it?” He yanked off the holster and stuffed the weapon into his satchel. “Should I offer up my sidearm as a peace offering?”
“Stole, you mean?” Cole asked, listening for plasma blasts. “Collected sounds too politically correct. It’s not like I picked up a prescription from the pharmacy.”
&
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Cole sucked in a deep breath through his teeth and nodded. “Give it to me straight.”
Cole frowned at the AI’s stress on the word “all.” “What exactly am I walking into?”
“And my escape?”
And what about you and the rest of the gang? Cole asked, switching back to Ocunet conversation. His thoughts sounded much more confident than he actually felt. Is Jude’s cargo clear and loaded? Is the Sentinel aware of my ship?
Waiting. That’s not intimidating or anything. He sighed and started marching the final length of the rat maze. The klaxons blared in time with the vicious pounding in his head, threatening to double him over. He would gladly abide by any demands if they would silence the deafening alarm. Just give myself over to the Sentinel. No pressure.
Cole began up to jog as his mental defense against the alarm began to fail. His eyes were pained slits by the time he crossed into a circular room with blinding lights piercing from the rafters. The satchel hanging limply in his hands dropped to the floor when the door behind him pounded closed. He dropped to his knees and covered his ears, no longer caring what he had to do. All that mattered was silence.
And then he had it.
Even as he continued to writhe on the cold floor, he had the faint sense that someone, or something, was standing over him. He rolled onto his back and looked up at a slender silhouette. Though the klaxons were silent, he dared not pull his hands away from his ears for fear of seeing blood staining the leather. He squinted, struggling to focus on the figure gazing down at him. As the lights dimmed, he could not help but forget everything CAIN had told him only moments before.
Well, hello there.
An androgynous, young, ebony woman of indeterminate age stared down at Cole, her piercing amber eyes locked onto his gaze. She was bald, save for the thin snow-white frost peaking through her scalp. A nondescript gray uniform complimented her tall, lean form. Strong cheekbones framed unpainted lips, and those lips were imparting words—words muted by Cole’s gloved hands. Risking more pain, he cupped one hand ever so slightly to hear what she was saying.
“...have ten seconds to comply.”
Her tone was flat and strangely unthreatening, though the implication was there. He wondered with what he had to comply. Pushing himself into a sitting position, he tempted fate with a question.
“Um, can you please repeat that?”
The Sentinel’s sharp regard fell to his satchel, and Cole needed no more urging. He slid it her way with his foot. No sooner had he retracted his leg, she extended her arm and gathered the front of his flight jacket in her fist, lifting him to his feet.
“Whoa—wow...” Cole said, eyes bulging. “I enjoyed that entirely too much.” He gawked at her, fully aware that her gaze was level with his. Even if she wasn’t the Sentinel, he would obey her every command.
“Preparing incarceration scan,” the Sentinel said, eyes boring into his.
“I suggest you frisk me.”
“Be silent. That is your final warning.”
Cole nodded. He had no desire to be punished by an android, no matter how tempting the prospect. Instead, he allowed himself to be visually violated by those stunning eyes—eyes uncovering his identity and plotting his end.
Oh, you’re still here. Spying on my date, are you?
They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, Cain, Cole said, smiling at the Sentinel.
Yeah, yeah, yeah... You’re ruining it.
“Scan complete,” the Sentinel announced. “Cole Musgrave, male, age 40. Former Military executive officer for the United System Starforce. Dishonorably discharged. Wanted for genocide, treason, espionage, kidnapping, gross theft, and significant destruction of federal property.”
“That’s enough about me,” Cole said, winking. “More about you.”
“You were warned.” Her hand reached out with incredible speed and clasped Cole’s tricep. She squeezed hard and elicited his agonized cry as he dropped to his knees. She collected his satchel and dragged him.
That better have been enough time, Cain! Cole said through Ocunet, struggling through his pain to formulate a proper thought. Because she’s literally dragging me to my doom.
Partial? Aren’t computers supposed to be exact and efficient? He tried to stand to alleviate his suffering, but the Sentinel’s awkward vice grip made it impossible to do little more than flail and stumble. Each step she took felt one second closer to her tearing off his arm.
Layman’s terms!
Turn the bitch off!
At least release her grip. I promise to follow her.
Oh, shit... Desperate, Cole reached up to pry her fingers off his arm. It was a mistake. Sensing his refusal to comply, her grip tightened, and he screamed.
Hopefully? Cole asked, panicked. She’ll tear my arm off before that happens. He shrieked as he was unceremoniously hauled through a doorway toward a lift.
“Suck it up, Nugget,” said another voice through his comm. “You only have yourself to blame for this mess. Take it like a man.”
Cole vowed to beat the mechanic to death with his detached arm once he got aboard the ship. You’re not helping, Rig! he replied, well aware that CAIN would transmit the words through an emotive text. Don’t you have...ow!...some straps that need tightening in the cargo hold? He received laughter as a response.
As he and the Sentinel entered the lift, Cole seized the opportunity to rest. He stood up as straight as her grip would allow, and leaned in close to her to alleviate the pain. Nope, not helping, he thought with increasing despair. Not helping at all... Hurry, Cain.
“Oh, quit your babying, Musgrave,” came Emmerich’s stern voice. “I’m seriously starting to doubt your role as captain.”
Piling on, eh, Chrysanthemum? Don’t push me...ah! Or I’ll snap that delicate wrist of yours.
“Followed by your neck.”
Cole grinned through his brimming tears. Anyone else wanna...ow! Poke fun at my situation? I don’t mind. Son of a bitch, this hurts! Assault by an android is a million laughs. Laughter was exactly what he heard through his comm, though he was relieved not to hear Lin join the chorus.
Cole’s world swam, and tiny stars filled his vision. It was only after hearing the AI’s voice that he realized he was drenched in sweat. Consciousness would soon leave him. His arm was completely numb, and he was beginning to wonder if it would ever function properly again.
Then they stopped.
Cole looked up, recognizing the doors leading to the loading bay where the Icarus was docked. The Sentinel was staring ahead as if conflicted. Um, Cain?
Hey, take your time. I’ll just wait here...twenty yards...from freedom....
“Cole? Stay focused on my voice.”
He managed a drunken smile at hearing Lin’s dulcet tones. Hey, Doc. Sorry I screwed up... Cain says...I lack coordination....
“Try and stay with me,” Lin continued through his apologies. “You’re almost here.”
Maybe you guys...should leave...without me....
“We can arrange that, Musgrave,” Emmerich threatened.
“Don’t listen to her,” Lin said, frustration in her voice.
Rig made some smooching noises over the comm, followed by a fierce berating from Emmerich. Lin shushed them both. Cole dropped to the floor.
Cole frowned, wondering why he couldn’t feel his arm. He rubbed the numb appendage while staring up at the ceiling, struggling to make sense of anything. “Wh-what?”
“He’s loopy,” Rig said, the first signs of tension in his voice. “We gotta get him outta there!”
“And do what?” Emmerich's demanded. “That android will tear us apart.”
