by D. M. Pruden
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
free ebook
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
The Adventure Continues
Review Request
If you liked this book...
Acknowledgements
About the Author
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 D.M. Pruden
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-9953013-1-3 ebook
For Mom. This would not have happened without your encouragement of many decades past. I wish I could have accomplished this during your lifetime.
As a way of saying thank you, I’d like to offer you another free ebook.
Claim your free ebook of short science fiction stories by going to
http://prudenauthor.com
Chapter 1
He regarded the dead body of the ship’s captain. He’d not executed anyone for some time and realized how much he missed it.
Agent 324 didn’t plan to execute him on the bridge of his own vessel. He intended to space him along with the rest of the crew. Every aspect of this mission seemed to need his personal touch which he resented up to now. After pulling the trigger, he found he again enjoyed the rush of endorphins through his system.
The ship rocked and an explosion reverberated through the hull. He unsuccessfully tried to use his cortical implant to call his lieutenant. Recalling the CI inhibitor they activated when they boarded, he turned on his vocal link.
“What’s going on down there?”
“We’ve met with some armed resistance, Sir,” came the response in his earpiece.
“What’s exploding? I don’t want any damage to the ship.”
“They are using heavy ordinance against us. Some of the ship’s Rangers are holed up in engineering.”
Agent 324 frowned. He knew from the outset capturing the armed Terran military vessel would be a challenge. His plan went well until a few minutes ago. If the alarm hadn't sounded, he could have disposed of the entire crew without firing a single shot. Fortunately, he anticipated a more vigorous resistance from the veteran Terran Rangers. While formidable warriors, their tactics proved predictable. They would make a final stand in the most critical section and prepare to destroy it rather than let it fall. It was a tactic from another time. While that war ended almost a decade before, the old ways were somehow always favoured.
“Pull your team back past the nearest emergency bulkhead.” He pushed the body off of the console. Using his own sleeve, he wiped off enough blood so that he could use the interface.
“We’ve pulled back to junction C8. We have wounded men to get out of there,” said his lieutenant over the static filled comm link.
“I’m taking care of them now.” His hands played over the controls. He sealed off the engineering section, isolating the Rangers and his own wounded men. After a moment to double check the readouts, he pressed the button to evacuate the atmosphere. As the pumps churned, he regarded the body again.
He’d almost fooled the Captain. They boarded in a stolen Terran transport with falsified clearance codes. After much discussion, he'd almost duped the Captain that their orders were legitimate. Then the man recalled the admiral whose name was all over the orders was lying in hospital in a coma. At that point, the only recourse became to shoot him and go to plan ‘B’.
His flawed intelligence annoyed him. His own spies in the admiralty should have caught the error. He intended to clean house when this ended. He couldn’t afford any more screw ups. He’d lost the vessel that was his real target already and came along on this mission to ensure its success.
A red light lit up the console indicating a complete vacuum in engineering. He pressed the sequence to pressurize it once more. The ship now under his control, he went to the communications interface. Within a few moments, the worried face of a young woman appeared on the screen.
“How is everything going?” she asked.
“We experienced a minor glitch, but everything is back on schedule, Kiri.”
She exhaled with visible relief. He thought her concern for him touching and wondered if it might not become annoying after too long.
“Altius wants an update,” she said.
“Tell the freak all is proceeding according to plan. He needn’t worry himself,” he said, not trying to hide his annoyance.
“I tried. He isn’t buying anything I tell him since the Helios incident.”
He scowled at the screen, weighing his response. Though he hated Felix Altius, the man held the ear of Regis Mundi, which made him dangerous.
“Tell Altius I’ll report to Mundi on my return to Luna.”
“He won’t like it, but I’ll try. When will you be back?”
“These assholes damaged the ship, so we’ll need some time to limp back. A week, perhaps? See how long you can put it off. Any update on the personnel replacements we need?”
“Our agent believes he found an engineer, but not a medical specialist.”
“Find a way to inspire him. I need those people sooner than later.”
She sighed. “I’ll remind him. Hurry back.”
She signed off, leaving him unsettled. He wondered if he finally took on a job beyond his capabilities. Before he could become too engrossed in self-doubt, his lieutenant signalled him.
“Engineering is secure. They managed some damage, but I think we can make it back to Luna for repairs with no problem. What do you want me to do with the survivors?”
“We don’t take prisoners. Space them along with any bodies. I don’t care if you kill them first or not.”
Chapter 2
Requiem touched down with far more grace than I expected. Lunar gravity made the pilot’s job somewhat easier. That he was completely sober for the first time since forever made it seem easy. Though still surprised he had managed it, I remained quiet in my seat, keeping the thought to myself. At a time, not long ago I might have teased him about the landing, but not today. We weren’t exactly on friendly terms at the moment.
Fair or not, the majority of people aboard were pissed at me. We had all been on each others’ nerves more than usual for most of our two hundred and sixty-four days together. I thought we were lucky to arrive back at Armstrong without a murder committed. This crew, like those on most of the merchant freighters
didn’t exactly attract people without sketchy pasts.
Even though my degrees from the Terran Academy of Medical Sciences all proclaimed that Melanie Corrine Destin had met all of the requirements to graduate, Cum Laude, my presence aboard a ship with a bunch of miscreants was the true testament of my character. From my point of view, given my history, this was where I deserved to be.
As ship’s medical officer, my job entailed seeing to the wellbeing of everyone on the round trip from Luna to Mars. That amounted to fixing the boo-boos one expects to find on a ship this old where half of the real trick is to keep it from exploding. Over the previous five years, I’d made myself popular by being generous with the dispensation of alcohol, along with a selection of other pharmaceutical distractions requested to endure the boredom.
That was before Sato Corporation introduced prohibition. Now I’m just another grumpy crew member who knows how to stitch a wound. Isn’t it amazing what a first rate education can do for your career prospects?
Of course, I couldn’t blame our new owners for being fun-busters. Even I had to admit the steady decline in maintenance and safe operation of the ship was a cause for concern. It was a miracle we could complete a single planetary orbit without falling apart. This last run had been the first where I felt reasonably confident I would return home. Despite everything else, Requiem’s crew knew how to do their jobs well when required. Our asshole of a captain forced them to rise to the challenge. He was an effective commander, though as a person he proved himself a dick.
The dismissal of Chambers, our old commanding officer, had been a personal tragedy for me. The new captain, Aaron Tanza, was not only a company man but a martinet. He all but directly accused me of stealing supplies and would have replaced me if there had been another qualified physician available before the last departure. He practically stalked me and took weekly inventory against the medical logs to ensure none of the medications went missing. My income for this trip took a drastic hit by his interference with my little side business.
“Enjoy shore leave, Doctor Destin,” beamed Tanza as I passed him at the airlock.
“Thanks, I intend to.” Up yours, Asshole. I was sure he ogled my ass as I walked past him.
The only positive note, if one could call it such, was that Tanza’s attitude towards me was far more friendly by the end of the run. He seemed somehow duped by my performance, which gave everyone double the reason to hate me as a turncoat and company stooge.
Schmaltz pinged my cortical implant to tell me he awaited me off the ship. I joined him at the exit door to the massive underground hangar. The ship’s engineering officer happened to be the only person onboard who still spoke to me.
“Can you believe that putz?” He fell into step with me and we strode down the corridor to the tram station.
“He’s a company man, Schmaltzy. What were you expecting?”
“I hoped he’d lighten up at some point.” He chewed on the ever-present unlit stogie between his teeth.
“Two hundred and sixty-four bunk inspections. Two hundred and sixty-four mess inspections, engineering inspections, sanitation inspections. I’m surprised he didn’t count our bowel movements.”
I smiled mischievously. “Whose to say he didn’t ask me to keep track?”
Schmaltz jerked the cigar stub from his mouth. “He did? No way!”
I laughed uncontrollably.
“You’re an asshole, Destin!”
“I know, but I couldn’t resist it. The look on your face is the most fun I’ve enjoyed in months.” I wiped tears from my eyes.
“You’re a regular comedienne.” He tried to frown but ended up grinning at the joke. “How about you buy me one of the two hundred and sixty-four drinks you still owe me, Doc?”
“Oh, that sounds like a hell of a good idea. Lead on.”
♢♢♢
I surveyed the hangar facility service terminal. The irregular schedule of the trams ensured a crowd of returning crews always waited for one. If possible, the place appeared more run down than the last time I’d been here. I wondered what the city council did with all the tax money they extorted from us.
“Quite the shit hole, eh?”
“You expected them to update things while we were gone? This is Armstrong we’re talking about,” I said.
“It would be a pleasant surprise to come home and be able to, oh, I don’t know, take a shower more than twice a week. Am I asking too much?”
“Move to the poles where all the water is. C’mon, if we don’t hurry we’ll be waiting another hour.”
We ran to the crowded car and pushed our way past the herd hanging around the openings in the hope of exiting first when the tram arrived at the customs module. We elbowed a space for ourselves to stand in the centre of the car as the doors closed and the train jerked into motion. Dust caked wheels squealed in protest before settling into a quieter rhythmic thumping. The smell of unwashed bodies hung in the poor airflow of the hundred-year-old tram car. Most of the haulers didn’t carry enough water for showers. I tried not to think about how much my own body added to the ambience.
As we jostled along the track, we all fought to maintain our balance in the lunar gravity. It always took me a day or so to regain my moon-legs after such a long trip. Why the majority of the freighters insisted on running their ships at 0.9 Terran gravity remained a mystery to me. Almost all the crews were born and lived here and everyone thought it a damned nuisance to readjust at the start and finish of every run.
A fine dust coated the outside of the windows, obscuring the view of the historic memorial commemorating humanity’s first steps here more than three hundred years before. The original lunar lander and flag long ago decayed under the relentless barrage of micro-meteorites. The present monument, the third one on the landing site, neared the end of its days.
“When do you suppose the council is going to replace that old thing?”
“They’ve been debating it since I got to Luna. Five years now? Who knows how long before then.” I replied.
“They can keep talking if you ask me. Better they spend the money on a new water pipeline from Irwin or Artemis.”
“Like that will ever happen.”
Having killed the conversation, I returned my attention to the interior of the car. The tram contained a motley bunch, as always. Some of the faces may have been familiar, though nobody acknowledged anyone else.
Schmaltz moved close to whisper in my ear.
“Who do you suppose is working Customs today?”
I smiled at him.
“Why? Is there something you don’t want them to ask you about? You’d better hope Toby is on. He’s the only one left who’ll consider your baksheesh anymore.”
“Hmph. He’s the only one who isn’t hoping to get promoted out of this hole. The rest of those toadies would rather bust a nun for smuggling rosaries than let anyone believe they got their palms greased.”
I frowned at him and lowered my voice another level.
“Don’t let the Morality Police hear you saying shit like that. We don’t need any attention.”
Schmaltz bit down on his unlit cigar and nodded, reverting back to silence for the remainder of the ride.
As things turned out, most of the customs agents were of the amicable variety and nobody got busted this time. I didn’t declare anything, so after a brief, routine interview, I linked my CI into the system and downloaded my declaration to the database. I didn’t worry it would flag anything. My installed implant hack always told them a nice story.
After they cleared me, I moved into the arrival terminal and waited for Schmaltz, who joined me after a couple of minutes.
“That was relatively painless.” He talked around the unlit stogie in his teeth.
“No cavity searches today?”
“It was one time. Can’t you leave it alone, Destin?” He marched ahead of me. I hurried to catch up and we boarded the monorail for the twenty-minute ride to the main city complex.
; ♢♢♢
“Line, ‘em up, Louie!” I announced as we strode into O’Brien’s Pub. I scanned the dimly lit room in search of familiar faces. Spotting three of Requiem’s crew trying to ignore me like a group of offended school girls, I added, “And refill whatever they’re drinking.”
“Feeling rich today Mel?” asked Schmaltz.
“Hell no! This run cost me money, thanks to that asshole Tanza. I just don’t like everybody hating me.” I nodded to Louie as he placed three shots of tequila in front of each of us. I looked back at my other crew mates and they waved their thanks for my generosity. Short memories are a necessity on a small vessel. I made a silent note to track down the remaining crew before shore leave ended.
While I ordered a refill, Schmaltz stared in silence at his empty shot glass collection.
“What’s up, Schmaltzy? You’re uncharacteristically morose. Don’t try to tell me it’s because of my restricted in-flight bar service. I know you keep a private stash in the engine room Tanza never found.”
A sheepish smile spread across his ugly face. “You knew about that?”
“Everybody knew about it.”
He shook his head as Louie put more tequila in front of us.
“They’re a good crew, Doc. They all watch out for each other. I’m gonna miss them.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’ve been offered a position as chief engineer on the Polaris. They contacted me during the return. I went to school with the captain and...”
“Hey, you don’t owe me any explanation. I’m happy for you.” I lied. Schmaltz was the only real friend I had made since my arrival on Luna.
“Really? Thanks, Mel. I didn’t know how you would take it. If the offer had come while Chambers was still skippering I wouldn’t have taken it, but...”
“Yeah, I know. It’s not as much fun anymore without him.”
We sat in silence for a minute, each digesting the situation.
“Listen, I could put in a good word for you. You’re the best sawbones I know and a damned good friend.”
