Truehearts & The Escape From Pirate Moon

by Jake Macklem

  That’s it. Everything is fuzzy after that. Except…Mick!

  Snapping her eyes open, she instantly realized she was not in a medbay. She saw she was strapped down to a makeshift stretcher suspended in her beaver dam hut. Dozens of small cuts lined the inside of her arms. She was covered with a piece of parachute cloth. That used to be part of my bed. Three meters from the stretcher, a crude table had been assembled. On top was a machine that seemed to be dripping clean water into the Tree-knocker skull. Each droplet hit the waiting liquid with a deep, musical plink. Her dry throat squeezed shut and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. I’m so thirsty.

  “Hey.” The dry cracked whisper of her voice was inaudible. Licking the inside of her mouth she tried again. “Water.” Her voice cracked. Still, no one responded.

  With renewed vigor, Ace shouted, and though her voice was ragged, it worked. “Water, please!” She sighed, feeling as if she had just run for miles. That shouldn’t be that hard. A moment later a man wearing a cowboy hat walked into the hut. His rifle in the nook of his arm, he approached cautiously but smiled as he neared. Earth military, probably a marine. “Am I a prisoner?”

  “Not in the strictest sense of the word.” His voice was soft and deliberate, with a subtle southern twang. He picked up a curved ladle and scooped water from the skull, the sound of splashing sang from the bowl.

  Where’d he get a ladle? “The straps?” Ace tugged at the restraints.

  “Well…” carrying the ladle, he closed the distance between them with great reservation, “the last time we talked, you almost killed me. I’d prefer not to repeat the experience.”

  “Really? I don’t often kill on the first meeting. How long ago was that?” Watching the cowboy lift the full ladle toward her, she opened her mouth.

  Careful not to go too fast, staying as far away as he could, the cowboy poured water into her mouth. “Six days.”

  The water tasted pure and clean, not like the mineral taste of the local water. It splashed over her face a little as she swallowed. She drank until nothing more came, then shook the excess from her face. “You’ve watched over me for six days?”

  “I would not phrase it as such.” He blinked.

  “Why?” She focused her gaze on the cowboy.

  He rested the ladle at his side, and briefly, his eyes went distant, looking beyond the interior of the hut. “My wife would not take kindly to me watching another woman sleep…”

  “Why are you helping me?” Ace interrupted.

  “Oh.” He looked her in the eye. “Cause it was the right thing to do?” He gave her a puzzled smile and stepped back, setting the ladle down on the table.

  “Aren’t you a rare breed. Can I have some more water?” This is when I find out how he expects me to earn my keep around here. ‘The right thing to do.’ What a crock of shit.

  The cowboy studied her. “How about I let you off the table and you get your own water?”

  “You’d do that?”

  “As long as you don’t go using that STAR training on me.” He grimaced and rubbed his throat.

  Dread rose in Ace. “STAR training? What’s that.” Who the shank is this guy? This is a setup. She started counting her breathing to regulate her body's natural physical response.

  “I found your ship and then I found you, STAR Ace Hart. You thought I was a pirate and punched me in the throat and took off running, like a dog with its tail on fire. Took me three shots to tranq you.” He smiled. “Can’t remember the last time I missed, let alone twice. Where’d you learn to move like that? Never seen anything like it.”

  Ace stared blankly.

  “It don’t surprise me none you don’t remember any of this. You had some hallucinogenic poison and so much iron in your system your skin was turning red. Haven’t figured out where you got poisoned.”

  “The lily pad roots are covered in thick slime. I think it was probably that.”

  Ace looked away from the cowboy and at the ceiling of the hut. She kept her face calm while her mind raced. STARs were supposed to keep their identity secret from everyone—their immediate commanding officer the only person that should know their name or face. The only other person who even knew they were Sol military was the commander that recruited and trained them. This was a dismissible offense, forgoing all the rights and privileges of citizenship. Everything she had worked for washed away in a single moment. I have to kill him.

  11: Cam

  “Could be. I haven’t sampled the lily pads.” He stepped toward her. Cam studied her face, but she betrayed no emotion. Damn good poker player. “You really a STAR? You gonna kill me if I let you go?”

  “Why would I do that?” She stared him in the eye.

  “Red, you know why I ask.” He stopped at the end of her stretcher, giving her a pointed look.

  Ace never blinked.

  Cam sighed. I really hope this ain’t a mistake. “The way I see it, anybody lost and poisoned on an iron moon for who knows how long would most likely be ranting and raving about some damn thing or another. Whether it was being a clandestine member of one of the most elite fighting forces in the Verse, or…” he paused, took a deep breath and shrugged, “or that she was kidnapped by pirates but escaped and crashed on the moon and managed to survive.”

  He undid the straps on her legs and moved down the stretcher to her left arm. Her eyes followed. “What they ranted about wouldn’t matter, because I wouldn’t be able to believe any of it. They were poisoned out of their mind, and couldn’t tell reality from the story in their head.” He gripped the strap. Looking her in the eye, he said, “I would do the right thing and forget about all that. And when that person had their senses about them, that’s when I’d ask them who they were and how they got on this ball of iron.”

  He undid the strap and stepped back from the stretcher. A good four meters away, he patted his rifle. “Of course, I would ask with a loaded weapon.” She reached over and undid the last strap and started to sit up, the stretcher swaying. “Careful now… don’t let that sheet fall off.”

  Confused she said, “You’ve seen me naked.” She swung her legs over the edge, holding the rope for balance.

  “Nope. Did not happen. And I’ll stand by that ‘til the day I die.” Gwen can never know. “I would like to give you some privacy but I also sure would like to keep on breathing. So…” Cam stepped back, “I will let you be while you get dressed.

  “Oh, there’s some… well I guess you could call them clothes on the table there. I had to guess at the measurements, but if they need adjusting, and if I’m alive, we can work that out.” Cam bumped into the entrance wall.

  “You made me clothes?” She asked, surprised, looking at the pile of cloth and color.

  “From the dried hide I found and the parachute up there. We have a lot of miles to cover and you need something that is gonna hold up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’ll explain everything soon, but short version, I got a pickup coming.”

  “You mean you’re getting off this moon?” Excitement and hope filled her voice as she turned back to the cowboy.

  The first real emotion she’s shown. “Yeah, hopefully for both of us.” I hope she doesn’t kill me. Maybe I should just shoot her now.

  “I’m gonna stand up now and I don’t think this sheet is gonna cover my backside too.”

  “It barely covers your…” Cam flushed red and cleared his throat. “I’ll be out front.” He started through the doorway.

  “What’s your name, cowboy?”

  He stopped, turned, and tipped his hat with a smile. “Shaw. Camron Shaw.”

  “Thanks.”

  Cam nodded and started to turn.

  “I want to do the right thing too, Shaw.”

  He took a moment before exiting the hut. I have no idea what that means. Is she going to kill me or not? He walked a few meters away from the entrance to where he had kept his gear, ready to be packed and loaded in a hurry.

  H
e began loading his kit and the collection of tagged containers, distributing some to his utility harness and carefully stowing the rest in his pack. He took special care tucking away a small pouch he had crafted from the hide; a bag of gold nuggets from a small vein he had surveyed. After he had brought Red back to her shelter and secured her for safety, he had spent a few days tending her health and nursing her through the effects of her diet. When he was able, he had scouted the immediate area, gathering samples and noting features of interest.

  When Cam had finished, he watched the darkening sky—the night was fast approaching. The white heat portion of the day is getting longer, by almost an hour and a half since I got here. He looked at the spinning device. Atmospheric pressure is dropping. Looking through the branches and leaves of the tree, he watched the fast-floating clouds, yellow on top, red on the bottom. Storm’s coming. This moon just keeps heating up with the longer days. Changes the weather and causes the rains. Rain brings the floods.

  Cam heard movement behind him and sighed in relief. She’s not gonna kill me. I wouldn’t have heard that coming. Turning, he smiled and took in his handy work. The purple and blue scales of the hide covering her arms and shoulders and chest looked good. Her midriff was exposed, and the skirt sat comfortably on her hips, coming down to just above her knees with a vent halfway up on both sides for movement.

  “How do they fit?” he asked.

  Ace tugged at the edges of the top. “I had to squeeze the girls in … but yeah, fits good.”

  He ignored her comment and pointed. “There’s some MREs in that pack.” Cam watched her eyes light up. She quickly opened and reached in, tearing through the contents of the bag. “Take whatever one you want, Red.”

  “I can have the one with the brownie dessert!” Ace pulled her head out of the pack. “Are you serious?”

  Cam smiled. “Go for it.” Watching her dive back into the bag reminded him of Verseday mornings and the boys opening their presents. She emerged with the MRE and pulled the white loop handle. The chemical reaction cooked the food inside. It’ll be the first meal she’s had on the moon that’s not poisoning her.

  As she lifted the lid, the steam and smells billowed out from underneath. “I’m so hungry.” Wasting no time, she shoveled the food into her mouth. She barely paused to chew.

  “It’s not gonna run away, you can slow down enough to taste it,” Cam teased.

  Ace chewed her mouthful and looked at him. “So, Shaw, you know I’m a kidnapped girl that escaped from pirates. What’s your excuse for being on this marble?”

  “Working for Sol Mining and Surveying. Last of my contract is this little paradise.”

  “How long you been on this moon?” She asked in between mouthfuls.

  “Twelve days. Came across your ship on day six.”

  “What was your drop date?” she asked casually.

  She’s about to figure out how long she’s been on this rock, and she’s acting like she’s asking about yesterday’s weather. “Earth date, July 7, 3224.” He watched her face for any reaction, any change at all. Like a rock. “How long you been here?”

  She picked up the brownie, a smile spreading across her face. “One hundred and ten days.”

  Cam’s eyes widened, his stomach tightened. “I’m sorry.”

  Surprised she looked at him and asked, “For what?”

  “For you… uh… being kidnapped and crashing here. It had to be a waking nightmare.” Not many would have endured.

  “Cowboy, you just gave me a shanking brownie, you got nothing to be sorry for. I’d say I owe you one.” She opened her mouth and closed her eyes.

  “Think you could do me a favor then, Red?” Cam leaned forward. There are some things I cannot abide.

  Ace’s face went slack. “If you ask me to shank...”

  Cam’s face flushed as he jumped up. “No!” He stepped back “For all that is good in the Verse! No.”

  Ace’s surprise turned to embarrassment. “I’m sorry. That was wrong.”

  Cam shook his head. “It’s okay. Really.”

  “No. You’ve been real kind. It was a stupid shanking thing to say,” Ace rambled. “It was just… girl talk. We can be pretty rank.”

  “It’s understandable. Lots of unsavory types in the world.” If only Gwen could see me now. She’d never let me hear the end of it.

  “Well shank yeah,” she agreed, “but you haven’t acted weird at all.”

  “And I won’t,” Cam stated matter of fact.

  “Yeah?” Ace asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled.

  “So, you said something about getting off this shanking marble?” Ace took a bite of the brownie.

  “I did. Three hundred kilometers or so that way, which I have been referring to as—”

  “East, because the sun rises that way?” Ace snarked.

  “Sorry, been doing video lessons for the boys and… well…” Cam fumbled as he watched Ace chew her brownie looking rather bored. Thank the Verse I ain’t got a daughter. “Yes. East.”

  “It’s a hike, but not undoable.” Ace took another bite. “But can’t you just reschedule… move the pickup closer?”

  Cam shook his head. “No coms. G-link doesn’t work on this pile of slag.” She was looking at him skeptically, so he added, “Between the magnetosphere of the moon and the interference from Ophelia, signals can’t reach the gate.”

  “No G-link at all?” Ace looked back toward her crash site.

  “None. If I can’t be there on schedule, I got no way to tell them.”

  “That’s shanked,” she said. Then she smiled. “But at least I don’t feel so dumb for not getting the dataport on that Warthog to work.”

  Cam chuckled as he stacked some twigs and a couple of bigger chunks of ‘wood’ on the charcoal from their fire the night before, leaving a bit of tinder exposed. “I already completed a majority of the plant and insect collecting.” And there wasn’t much of it. Definitely something strange going on here evolution-wise. No way a functioning ecosystem can have this little diversity. Cam wandered off in his own thoughts then realized Ace was still staring at him, waiting for him to finish.

  “I can mark any ore sources as we go, so as long as we cover sixteen kilometers a day, we’ll have plenty of time.” I think I sound confident.

  “You don’t sound too confident. What do you mean plenty of time?” Ace ate the last of her brownie, chewing slowly to savor the disappearing treat.

  “The Po’olu’u is going to drop a pod at the retrieval point, go pick up the one I came in, and swing back around and pick us up in orbit. That happens in eighteen days.” Cam flicked a flashstick and the fire burned bright. He tossed it on the twigs in the firepit.

  “Then we’ll leave tomorrow.”

  “No. Two more days of rest, that’s what you get. Then we leave. You need strength to go the distance.” Cam looked away. “How was your brownie?”

  “I think it might have been the best shanking thing I ever ate. It was so chocolaty.” Ace smiled. “So, what’s that favor?”

  “Oh.” Cam blushed. The fire started to dance over the logs. “Do you think you could watch your language some? You curse like a preacher in a whorehouse.”

  “I grew up in a whorehouse,” Ace’s eyes twinkled, “but… I’ll see what I can do.”

  Cam studied her face. Nope. Can’t tell if she’s joking or not. “I would appreciate it. I do use colorful vernacular myself once in a while. Though I believe overuse diminishes its impact.”

  “You like words, huh?” Ace smiled.

  “I did marry a literature teacher,” Cam retorted.

  “Kids?”

  “Two boys, Tomas is twelve, and Calvin just turned ten.” Cam smiled. “I get to see them after this.”

  “How long has it been?”

  Cam felt an ache in his chest, blinked his eyes a few times, and said, “Two years.”

  “And you came looking for whoever flew that Warthog?” Ace shook her head. “It cou
ld have been a pirate trap, or they could have been dead, it could…”

  “It was you,” he cut her off. “And by all accounts, you seem to be a genuine human being. In addition, while I have been wrong before, I do believe what we have here is the blossoming of a friendship. So, let us not contemplate unpleasantries that will never come to pass, and instead enjoy some music.” Cam pulled a harmonica from his pocket and bounced his eyebrows.

  The two shared a moment, the weight of the choices each had made hung between them. A family man billions of light-years from home, risking everything to save a stranger. A stranded soldier left for dead, outliving the ghosts of her past. Understanding settled over them both.

  “Knock yourself out, Cowboy.” Ace moved closer to the fire and wrapped her arms around her knees, her eyes lost in the dancing flames.

  Cam set his rifle down and sat next to it. He lifted the harmonica and played a simple song. It drifted on the wind. She can’t be but in her early twenties. She’s still just a kid. The firelight reflected in her eyes and she had a half-smile. What she ain’t… is scared.

  12: Ace

  The fighting style taught to STARs was a combination of alien and Earth fighting called Ka-te-Zi or Soul of Pain. Designed to incapacitate the target with pain and the inability to move appendages, its goal was to eliminate enemies from combat and, by leaving them alive, make them a continuing liability to their allies. In STAR tactics, only after the battle was over would they make decisions about termination. This way, high-priority targets were not killed in the heat of battle. Ace went through all the motions and stances—the first time in a long time. Her muscles were stiff and she felt weaker than ever before.

  Pieces of time on the moon were so scattered, the memories swirled around her head in a foggy blur and she had no idea what was real and what was not. She was unable to establish a timeline. Some of the pieces seemed to contradict other bits. At least now her senses felt reinvigorated. She could smell the tang of the air, individual shades of the colors stood out more vividly—she felt awake for the first time since the crash. The Meals Ready to Eat, or MREs, that Cam had brought sated her hunger and the clean water rehydrated her. She was heavy metal poisoning-free and had not had any hallucinations since she awoke three days ago. Including Mick.