“Of course.” Realizing there was nothing else she could do for Sharmali, she allowed him to draw her to her feet. He led her through the sleeping passengers into the hall and to the kitchen at the rear of the building. Earlier, he’d found a few emergency lamps left in a cupboard, so he flipped one on, setting it on the counter as she activated the robo to brew coffee. “We’re marooned now, so there is no crew versus passenger,” she said. “All consumables are share and share alike at my discretion.”
“All right then, as long as no one is docking my pay.” He took the mug with a laugh. “I’ve missed the real stuff since I left the Teams. Special Forces gets their own allotment. Too pricey to drink much in my new civilian life.”
She acknowledged the shared joke from yesterday with a raised eyebrow, and sipped her coffee, but refused to be distracted. “Talk to me. Why are you urging me to move these people somewhere else? And where would we go?”
He leaned against the counter. “We can assume whatever reason the TDJ captain had for leaving was compelling.”
She nodded.
“And no sign of Drewson returning.” He sipped the hot drink. “The two facts together suggest to me our ship is gone.”
“Gone? You mean jumped into hyperspace?”
“Could be.” He paused. Meg thought he seemed to be struggling with some inner decision whether to share more of his concerns, so she waited. After a moment, Red said, “The Far Horizon could have been destroyed by hostiles.”
“An enemy incursion in this Sector?” Meg blinked, trying to assimilate the concept. “Last time I heard any news, the Mawreg were at least two Sectors away, and being pushed back all along the front.”
“I don’t have any current intel, been out of the Teams too long, but the government never tells civilians the full story about anything.” He shook his head. “The fact that the rangers were pulled out of here says a lot to me. And the Mawreg don’t usually come in first. The overlords prefer to send one of their client races; the cannon fodder do the heavy lifting of first invasion.”
Mind reeling with grim possibilities she’d never considered, Meg pounced on a hole in his logic. “But why attack this planet? It’s got no value other than the scenic beauties. No indigenous population. No particularly valuable minerals, despite the pretty colors they add to the water and the tree leaves. Nothing special here to covet.”
He drained the last drop of the precious coffee and set the mug on the counter. “I found some kind of research station on one of the maps in the ranger office. Maybe this world has more to it than we know.”
This was certainly news to Meg. “Was the research station active? Maybe the staff there can help—”
“Mothballed several years ago according to the note, but it would make a good place for us to wait out our forced shore leave. It’s deep in the forest, probably several days walk from here.”
“I don’t understand why you want us to hike through the undergrowth to reach another abandoned place like this station,” Meg said. “Why not stay here in relative comfort?”
“If hostiles are planning to take over this planet, the landing pad and ranger station are visible and vulnerable, too exposed. I’d have preferred to start for the research complex this afternoon, but the idea wasn’t workable with the bunch of pampered civilians we’ve got. When we move out, I’ll take or destroy all the maps or references here showing our potential destination. We’ll be able to hide there. Once I get you and the others safely established at the site, I’ll come back to this area and keep a covert watch for a rescue or the resumption of normal civilian traffic. My best hope is there might be active coms gear at the station so we can call for extraction.”
Meg took a shaky breath. “What you’re saying makes me want to wake the passengers now and move out in the dark.”
Red laid his hand over hers on the counter. “Hey, I’m probably overreacting. Even if hostiles took out the two ships, or were sighted in the vicinity of the system, the enemy might not have any interest in searching for a few stray humans on the surface.”
Drawing comfort from his touch, she allowed the contact between them for a moment before withdrawing her hand. Needing to do something with all the nervous energy after this unsettling discussion, she set about packing the robo. “Tell me something, are you normally given to overreacting?” She shot him a glance over her shoulder.
“No.”
His answer was what she’d expected. “All right then, let’s plan to get organized and hike out of here by noon. I anticipate some serious complaints and foot dragging from the guests, don’t you?”
“We’ll tell them the truth. And again, the food goes with us, so if the passengers don’t relish hunting for their own—”
“Which this crowd is highly unlikely to do.” She laughed, guessing he was trying to lighten the atmosphere. As he turned to exit the galley, she said, “Hey, Red?”
“Yeah?” Turning to her, he cocked his head as if he expected some criticism.
“I’m glad you’re here with me.”
Smiling, he flashed her a sketchy salute.
The guests were a quiet, cowed bunch when Meg woke them at dawn. Serving a bare minimum of food for breakfast, she announced the need for a burial detail to inter poor Sharmali, whose body Red had carried into one of the side offices after their late night chat. The Primary sat in a corner of the conference room, away from the others, Callina fetching food for him. Chewing on a feelgood stick, he scowled, but said nothing.
“Mr. Thomsill and I believe we need to relocate further inland, to another facility we’ve identified, for our safety,” Meg launched into her agenda for their day after all the passengers had plates and were devouring the food she’d measured out. “We’ll start hiking there today. After breakfast and the service for Sharmali, I’ll need help dividing the supplies into makeshift packs.”
The expected uproar took place, with people throwing questions and accusations alike at her.
Oddly enough, Mr. Finchon quelled the discussion before Red had to intervene. The Primary stood and his entourage went quiet as if he’d yelled at them. “I’m taking detailed notes on all of this, for my eventual lawsuit, which I guarantee is going to drive your employer into bankruptcy and ruin the two of you financially for the rest of your lives. You’ll never work again, I assure you both.” He raised one hand as Red opened his mouth. “Let me finish, Mr. Thomsill. I only want to say this once. I agree with your logic about moving to a less visible location, in case our difficulties of the moment are due to hostile action. Speaking on behalf of my guests and my employees, we’ll co-operate with you to the full extent until help arrives.” He sat and there was silence for a moment.
“All right then,” Meg said, “As soon as breakfast is over, the burial detail goes with Mr. Thomsill and the rest help me pack.”
“You guys go ahead and I’ll be right out.” Red lingered for a moment, stepping close to Meg. Lowering his voice so only she could hear, he said, “Don’t lose any sleep over that blowhard’s threats. Clearly the situation here falls outside normal cruise conditions and anything he tries to file a lawsuit over will get blown out of court. Force majeure and all the old Terran legalese.”
Appreciating his concern, she relaxed her tense shoulders and gave him a smile. “Thanks for the reminder. I did know he was blowing smoke, but if thinking about ways to sue us keeps him co-operative, I’m content.”
“I should’ve known you’d be on top of it.” Red squeezed her elbow and was gone.
But when she stepped outside with the others later, braced to say a few words over the grave since she was in command, Meg paused on the threshold and scanned the sky.
“Problem?” Red was at her side.
She realized she was getting used to him being there when she needed him. The idea was more comforting than she would have believed possible a few days ago. Pointing with her chin, she said, “See those gray clouds, low on the horizon?”
He followed her li
ne of sight and whistled. “Big storm coming. We were tracking some nasty cells when we landed, but the prevailing winds were blowing out to sea.”
“Must have been a shift in the weather then because we’re definitely in for it. My landing party was caught here in a freak storm three years ago. It was so bad we couldn’t launch. We had to sit it out in the ranger station. Blew for twelve of the longest hours of my life.” She didn’t add that storms freaked her out, ever since she was a kid.
“On the positive side, we know the ranger station can withstand the winds,” he said.
“But we’ll never survive in the open. We can’t leave today.” Meg was surprised to find how much she wanted to get away from the vulnerable facility.
“Well, if the weather’s going to be as bad as you’re telling me, no one’s going to attack us today, either.”
The passengers were assembled, so she walked to the flower bed in front of the first small house, which Red had determined was the best spot. Taking a deep breath to calm the fluttering in her gut as she stood by the freshly dug grave, Meg said, “None of us present knew Sharmali Dalgien as anything but a fellow traveler. I’ve been told she was a good companion, a pleasant person to be with and she didn’t deserve to perish here, in such a sad manner. May the Lords of Space speed her on her way and grant her peace.”
“Peace,” her audience echoed. One or two bowed their heads, praying to their own deities. Lindy, the girl whose face Sharmali had scratched during their spat in the shuttle the day before, wept noisily, although her sobs sounded forced to Meg.
Callina placed hastily plucked wildflowers at the head of the grave.
Harrelly recited a short speech from one of his recent trideo roles, where he’d played a priest in some mythological religion. He took a bow at the end, seeming disappointed no one asked for more. Meg remembered his character had been long-winded in the entertainment feature and supposed they were lucky he gave them one of the briefer, more or less relevant passages.
Much to Meg’s surprise, Callina sang, doing a surprisingly professional a capella rendition of a popular ballad. The haunting lyrics about a journey and lost love resonated well for the somber occasion. There was applause when she finished the last verse, and then the mourners’ attention turned to Meg and Red for direction.
“We can’t leave today after all,” she said, explaining about the oncoming storm. Just in the time of the brief ceremony, the ominous cloud bank had advanced noticeably closer and a breeze was picking up and eddying the leaves in the yard. “Mr. Thomsill is going to button up the storm shutters pretty soon. For safety reasons, it’s essential no one remains outside. We will be setting out promptly at dawn tomorrow, so rest today as much as you can.”
Meg tried to prepare them for what the storm would be like, but the ferocity of the winds far exceeded her ability to describe. Lindy became practically catatonic, curled in a chair in the middle of the room, her head covered with a towel, crooning to herself and cringing at the bursts of thunder. The others napped, played desultory card games with the decks Meg had brought on the ill-fated picnic the day before, or else amused themselves with their personal AI’s. Callina and her husband sat curled up together on a couch against the far wall, probably happy that while the storm raged, her stepfather couldn’t make demands of either one. The sturdily built ranger station rocked under the most ferocious gusts, but despite creaking and groaning, the walls and roof stayed intact.
There was no conversation because it was impossible to be heard over the howling winds.
Meg served lunch when her wrist chrono indicated it was time to eat, and brought dinner later. At least there was no worry over food and drink yet, between her stores and what TDJ had left behind. She fed the crowd a bit extra, hoping the treat would give their spirits a boost.
The Primary played cards with Trever and Harelly for the most part, but occasionally she’d glance up from the book she was merely staring at on her AI, not really reading, and discover Finchon was fixated on her. Eyes glittering, he watched her every move. Finally, she relocated to the kitchen and sat alone. Red checked on her at regular intervals, as he prowled the entire building, on the alert for anything.
He’d been unable to restore full power to the station, telling her the day before several vital parts were missing, apparently removed when the place was abandoned. An independent auxiliary system kept the locks, storm shutters and limited ventilation operational.
Eventually the storm blew itself out, as she’d known it would, but not before there was a crash at the rear of the building that literally shook the ground. Heart pounding, she remembered there’d been an old growth tree shading the station, which evidently had failed to weather one more storm. Lucky it didn’t land on the roof or we’d all be dead.
As the winds faded in intensity toward evening, she walked into the conference room to check on her passengers. While distributing snacks, she said, “We should be fine now, since the storm is blowing further inland, away from us. Get some sleep and be ready to leave first thing in the morning.”
She spent a few moments conversing with Lindy, the woman who’d had such a terrified reaction to the storm, bringing her a cup of tea. After making sure no one else required any special attention, Meg gave Red permission to open the storm shutters on the windows because the ventilation system wasn’t working too well and the air had grown stuffy inside the building. He ventured outside and reported there was a great deal of debris on the ground from the winds. The large tree had indeed fallen against the rear of the station, but overall the situation was good.
The night passed without incident. Meg woke at dawn and set out a buffet breakfast, Callina and Red assisting her. As the passengers ate, she said, “I’m going to get a head start on shutting down my robos. We’ll be leaving as soon as everyone’s done eating breakfast.”
“Do you need help?” Red was always attentive.
Callina crammed the remainder of her stale sandwich into her mouth, mumbling something about wanting to pitch in with the chores.
“Don’t rush, no need to choke on your food,” Meg said with a smile. “We’ve had enough emergencies for one trip. This is routine, done it a million times, but thanks for the offer of help, both of you. It’ll take me five minutes or less, promise.”
CHAPTER THREE
The enemy attacked just as Meg disappeared into the hallway to the kitchen. Red hit the deck, dragging Callina with him as the windows burst inwards, showering reinforced glass on the occupants of the room. As if in slow motion, projectiles hit the floor, each bursting into flame upon landing. Vivid yellow and red fire spread from the impact points, creating a firestorm in the room. A projectile landed right next to Lindy, who was immediately enveloped in flame, the blanket she’d been wrapped in going up in an instant. She was dead before she could extricate herself from the folds. Sam and several of the others were trapped on the far side of the room, flames surrounding them on all sides. Yelling and shouting, they attempted to beat the fire out with cushions. Finding new fuel in the furniture, the blaze engulfed them in an explosion.
Heart pounding, Red spared a second to glance at the last spot he’d seen Meg. Through the smoke and flames, he caught a glimpse of her standing in the hallway, screaming his name. He had no way to get there, although he took a step toward her. The center of the room was an inferno. Part of the roof collapsed, sending a solid sheet of sparks flying through the room, forcing him to retreat.
Callina was hanging onto his shirt, coughing. “We have to get out.”
With one final despairing glance at the raging blaze where Meg had been standing, he drew his blaster, scooped the younger woman into his arms, and sprinted for the front door. Most likely, he was going to run right into the waiting enemy, but the only other choice was burning to death. Carrying Callina, he hurdled the low flames at the threshold and rolled onto the porch to extinguish any stray sparks on their clothing. The blaster was knocked from his hand by the impact, flying into th
e darkness.
Releasing Callina, he yelled at her. “Run to the trees.”
Eyes wide, she nodded, gathering herself to obey. Before she could move, a sticky white net enveloped them, head to toe. A moment later, both net and prisoners were dragged ruthlessly off the porch, bumping across the ground.
He was well aware that the more he struggled, the tighter the net would become, so he forced himself to stay still, and told the screaming woman to do the same. This was a favorite weapon of the Shemdylann pirates. He’d been imprisoned in one before, during training, and knew there was no escape short of burning free with a blaster. His arms were pinned to his sides at awkward angles and struggling would only constrict the cords until he became unconscious or died.
So intent was he on not triggering the web to strangle them, he was startled when a voice spoke right above them. “An amusing diversion, like stepping on a nalirva hive and watching the bugs scurry in a futile attempt to survive. Truly unexpected entertainment.”
The words were in passable Basic. The Shemdylann pirate standing next to them was a high ranking officer, judging by the insignia tattooed onto his upper mandible.
“There are more people inside, you bastard,” Red said. His head pounded with the anger and grief surging through his body. Lying there as a helpless prisoner while innocent people died a few feet away tore at him.
The Shemdylann waved one clawed hand. “Then let them come outside, or die. I care not. Either way will be equally pleasing to my crew and me.”
The screams from whoever was trapped in the burning building continued for a few more moments, before the entire structure collapsed in an explosion of flame and sparks, bringing abrupt silence rather than the crackling of the fire. Heartsick and consumed with grief for Meg, Red tried to reassure and comfort Callina as much as he could in the impossible situation. She managed to hook three fingers around his left hand and he squeezed tight. “Don’t look at the cabin, best to close your eyes.”
Star Cruise: Marooned: (A Sectors SF Romance) Page 4
