Spectra Arise Trilogy

by Tammy Salyer

  “That would mean less of a split. No, we do fine. It’s usually the deliveree who gets to unload the cargo. We just transport the goods.”

  He pulls out a metal chair, spins it around backward, and sits at one of the small tables. As I follow suit, he pours us out two full glasses of the peculiar liquid. “I’m just going to come right out and say it—here’s to us. Old friends. Let’s not lose touch again.” He tips the glass in my direction, then belts the drink down.

  “To old friends,” I say and swallow mine. The liquid is both spicy and sweet, running down my throat smoothly. “Not bad.”

  “Agreed. This is probably the best hooch you can get. A friend of mine makes it on her cruiser. She won’t divulge the secret ingredients, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to charm it out of her.”

  I refill our glasses and we drink amiably for a few minutes. “You’re up late. I didn’t expect to find anyone around.”

  “Clients on Obal 10 sent me a wave that just came in—a job—so I was just doing the research on that. Still adjusting to Spectra 6 time, too.”

  “What kind of job?”

  He hesitates before replying. “Oh, just a quick pick-up and delivery from one of the Spectras. Nothing too exciting.” Then why the need for a lot of research? “How about you, are you always out and about this time of night?”

  It’s my turn to hesitate. “Just having trouble sleeping. It was a long day.”

  “Lots on your mind, right?” His eyebrows rise sympathetically. It makes me uncomfortable, but also makes me want to spill it—to just say what’s bothering me, to talk to someone. But that would be too awkward. Cross is the reason for Karl’s behavior and accusations. What would be the point?

  He seems to pick up on my reluctance. “Hey, no problem. You’ve never been one to spend a lot of time talking about yourself. If you change your mind, I’m happy to listen, okay?”

  There’s something reassuring in his familiarity, the way he talks about me as if he’s known me for years. He still remembers so much about the person I was back in the Corps, and it makes me realize that, despite the Rebellion, the years of smuggling, and all the shit that’s happened since the last time we spoke, I still am the same person, deep down.

  He refills my glass and I slug it down. Letting impulse take control, I stand up and walk around the table. Taking Rob by the sleeve of his shirt, I pull him toward me and he gives no resistance, as if he’d been waiting for this very thing. Our lips connect and it feels the same as it had eight years ago. His mouth is soft, warm, inviting—so different than Karl’s strong, urgent kiss. Not better, just different. Rob lets the kiss linger, and I force myself to stop comparing them and just let the moment sweep me away—from myself, from my fears. From my guilt.

  TEN

  Waking up in Rob’s bunk is like getting a glass of cold water in the face. I had not expected to stay—or to fall sleep—and when an abrupt buzzing sound jerks open my eyelids, I’m disoriented by the unfamiliar room.

  Rob leans over and presses a button on the com console next to his bed. “Yeah.” His voice is rough and throaty from being woken up.

  “Message in from Obal 10.”

  “Roger that. I’ll be down in a minute.” He lies back and the sheet crumples at his waist, leaving his chest bare.

  The darkness of the room is illuminated only by a faint red glow from the clock on the com console display, showing 0730. I stir, ready to leave and feeling foolish and out of place. I refuse to let my mind jump to the day ahead or what people seeing me leave Rob’s ship might think. The mine is a busy place and it’ll already be populated with early morning crews starting their daily work. As I lean forward, Rob reaches up and turns on a soft light.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  I look down at him, and he beams a smile at me that could melt the ice core of an asteroid. His body hasn’t changed much. The galaxy of small scars that he’d received from the shrapnel spray of a cluster bomb still trail down his right side in a scattershot pattern. Their intense pinkness has faded to a paler hue and they’ve flattened out some. He’s just as muscular as ever, and his olive skin has not lost any of its rich, sun-loving hue.

  “I have to get going,” I mutter. The bunk is wider than those aboard the Sphynx—another example of his flushness—but still built against the wall, forcing me to stretch over the top of him to get up. He doesn’t reach out to stop me. I put my feet on the cold floor and gather up my clothes, first replacing the Derg, followed by my pants. My back is to him, but I can feel him watching me. As I pull on my shirt, I feel his fingers trace lightly along my skin and linger on the ten-centimeter scar midway down my right side—Rajcik’s parting memento.

  “This is recent. Looks like it was bad. What happened?”

  “A goodbye gift from my former boss.” I slip the shirt over my head and follow it up with my jacket.

  “Jesus, Aly. What kind of people did you work with?”

  “The wrong kind. Smugglers. It was a mistake, but I didn’t have a better plan after I deserted.” My boots are the last thing I put on. Buckles tight, I stand up, preparing to go.

  “Hey,” Rob gets out of bed, pulling the sheet around his waist, and stands close. He’s taller than me by a head and a half, lean in the hips and broad in the shoulders. I fit in his shadow when he’s close. “I know you have to rush off, but can I get you breakfast first? Coffee, at least?”

  “I have to go,” I say again, reflexively, wanting to make my exit as quickly as possible. This time he does reach out, brushing the back of his hand against my cheek, then cupping it around the back of my head. He leans forward to kiss me, but I step back, gently releasing myself from his arm. “I’m sorry, I just have to go, okay. It’s nothing personal. I’ll see you later.” I don’t rush from the room, but I don’t linger either. Rob has been good to me. I don’t want to leave him with the impression that I don’t care, but right now I need space, time to think.

  As I pass through the galley, his three crewmembers are seated, eating breakfast. They all stare at me, their faces clamped in expressions of practiced neutrality. Except for Baker, whose scowl could peel paint. I don’t avoid their looks, but continue to the hold and down the ramp without stopping.

  At the bottom, the tightness in my chest begins to relax and I breathe deeply, hoping for a quiet day. My plan is to find La Mer or Bodie and see if there’s any work I can do on the transceiver. At least that’s one place I’m unlikely to see Karl and have to cope with the wreckage that meeting will bring.

  I’m not watching where I’m going and step sharply off the ramp, straight in front of a sandbike. “Aly!” I jump back and Bodie swerves and comes to a stop, fortunately going slow enough that he’s able to react before smashing into me. At first, surprise is etched on his face. “What are you—?” Then, realization of what I must be doing here strikes and he cuts himself off, having enough tact not to ask.

  “Shit, sorry about that, Bodie.”

  “You okay?” He glances up the Horizon’s ramp, a troubled look on his face.

  “Yeah, fine.” Bodie and Karl are close, nearly as tight as brothers. I can imagine what he’s thinking right now, the kinds of questions he must have, and decide it’s time to channel the conversation into the day ahead. “What’s the status on the transceiver? What can I do to help get it fixed?”

  His eyes snap back to my face and his lips are tight, but he seems relieved to have something else to focus on. “There’s not much left. Fortunately, it’s only the main capacitor that needs to be replaced and some rewiring. We could use your help on that, like before. Vitruzzi is taking the Sphynx to Hell’s Gate today to see if any locals or off-world traders are around that have the component we need. If they do, we’ll be up again tomorrow.”

  There’s a noise from inside the Horizon’s hold and I glance back over my shoulder nervously. It’s time to get out of here. “That’s fantastic news. When should I get up there?”

  “You could get sta
rted right away. I think La Mer’s already there.”

  “Sounds good. See you later.”

  When I arrive at Venus’s, she is on her way out. “There you are! Karl came by this morning looking for you. Told him you probably crashed on the Sphynx. Heard you two had a row. Hope you’re okay. Did Karl find you?” Her monologue crashes into me at a hundred miles an hour, almost too fast for my mind to grasp all at once.

  “Did you say Karl was here?”

  “Yeah, ’bout an hour ago. Didn’t he—?”

  “Did he say what he wanted?”

  “I don’t know. No, I mean. I think he was going to apologize. You know, for what he said. I heard about that! He’s just a hothead. You know that. Karl’s just Karl, always ready to boil over the rim. Want to come with me? He’s riding along to Hell’s Gate this morning, to get new parts for the transceiver. Isn’t it great? It works!”

  Shit, what did I do? The temptation to go with Venus and confront Karl is strong—who knows what conclusions he’s drawn? Then I realize that the worse conclusion he could draw is true. I’m not prepared to face the brute force of his accusations again, even though I’ll be forced to eventually. “No thanks, Venus. I’ll stay back today and help La Mer and Bodie out. Let us know if things pan out at Hell’s Gate.”

  “You got it. See ya!”

  ELEVEN

  It’s noon and the twin Algols blaze on us like God’s judgment. We’ve staked the transceiver’s netting out in a makeshift awning over the open side of the housing assembly for some relief, but the temps are at least in the 40-degree Celsius range.

  “Do you see that capacitor?”

  Inside the box, where the upper half of my body is jammed, flashlight in mouth and sweat pouring from my face and neck in streams, it’s even hotter. “Yeah, it looks like it’s cooked.”

  “Can you get it free?”

  Grunting, “One sec,” I have a moment to think that La Mer had better be grateful for the luxury of not being inside this oven. They’d done most of the original wiring before mounting the dish and hadn’t had to perform this kind of jack-in-the-box contortion act. I finally get my right hand on the crisped capacitor and yank, banging my elbow on a corner of metal in the process. “Goddammit!”

  “Get it?”

  I squirm my way backward and take a deep breath, showing them the damaged piece. It had smelled like overcooked plasterine in there. “I know how important this dish is, but if I have to go back in there to put in the new—”

  Sand starts kicking up in a frenzied wind from the side of the hill, and a second later a shuttle I’ve never seen suddenly rises silently over the rim as if it bounced off the valley floor. David, who’d come up with me, has his rifle at the ready almost before any of us realize what it is, pointing it toward the cockpit screen. Like an idiot, I’d left all my hardware except the Derg behind in the Sphynx.

  The shuttle comes to rest on the slope leading away from the dish toward the Flats, but the engine stays hot. The three of us stand still, not knowing what to expect but seeing no point in trying to run. It’s a Speeder model with a center-hung gyroscopic fuselage that links to long, planed jets optimized for minimal air resistance on both sides. The fuel cell engine is mounted on a crossbeam between the two jets at the rear of the fuselage, and the entire shuttle, minus the retractable landing gear, is no taller than a seated man. There’s no running from something that fast.

  As we watch, the cockpit screen slides backward, opening the fuselage to reveal the pilot’s controls and six passenger seats. Rob sits at the controls.

  “You all need to come with me quick!” The urgency in his voice is unmistakable and even more alarming than the unexpected shuttle’s appearance.

  “Rob, what the hell—?” David begins, but Rob cuts him off.

  “Don’t argue, just get in. You’ve got Corps landing in the Beach!”

  It’s like being touched with a live wire, and I’m instantly galvanized by a surge of adrenalin and fear. “Jesus, we gotta get back there.”

  “Forget it, there are too many. They’ve got a least one gun ship and a transport. If you go in there fighting, you’ll just be killed. Vitruzzi and the others are still at Hell’s Gate. We’ll regroup with them later, when there’s a chance. But right now, we have to get you out of here. Move!”

  La Mer is already hoisting his long body up the mounting rungs embedded along the fuselage. David breaks and is up next, pulling me in. Rob immediately accelerates and we speed south, staying low.

  “What do you know, Rob? What’s the Corps doing here and why didn’t the Beach warn us? How did you know they were here?” David bombards him with questions the second the screen closes.

  “Look, all I know is we took the ’Rize up into atmo to check the modifications we’ve been doing on our backflow valves, and we picked up two ships on radar coming in too low for the Beach’s systems to track.”

  Just like Rob did a few days ago. It’s a weakness in the Beach’s tracking, another issue that could be resolved with the transceiver functioning as it should.

  “I told my crew to keep the ’Rize in orbit so I could come pick you up. Maybe it’s routine, I don’t know. But none of you are legal and neither is that dish. I figured I’d get you out of there before they found you.”

  It takes less than an hour to rendezvous with the RedHorizon. I contact Vitruzzi en route to tell her what had happened, and she and the crew with her leave Hell’s Gate immediately. Vitruzzi is legally contracted with the Admin, and no other Beacher besides us deserters have any outstanding warrants. Why the Admin would send Corps—with a gunship—to the settlement is anyone’s guess, but if there’s a way to smooth things out, Vitruzzi is the one to do it. While we wait to hear back from her, we congregate on the Horizon’s flight deck where Sims is at the helm. Rob says his record is clean, and if the Corps detains him, he can hide us.

  I get antsy waiting and lift my VDU to contact Vitruzzi for an update. Just as I do, both my and David’s devices buzz to life and I take a quick, relieved breath, expecting it to be Vitruzzi. Instead, Bodie’s face, panic-stricken and fervent, fills our screens.

  “We’re in deep shit here. The Corps landed about fifteen minutes ago and they’re arresting everyone. Repeat, they’re arresting the entire settlement. I’ve locked myself in the mine’s control room, but it’s only a matter of time. V, Brady, if you’re reading this, get the hell off world. They’re—”

  A teeth-rattling thud rips through the room, and the image on my VDU shifts wildly as Bodie swings his arms, trying to cover his face from flying debris. Dust fills the screen for a moment, and David and I exchange alarmed glances, both of us holding our breath. I start to depress the transmission key when Baker violently yanks my hand back. “Don’t do that, they’ll trace the signal.”

  “Goddammit that’s my friend in there!” I holler, yanking my arm free.

  “No, Aly, she’s right. There’s nothing you can do,” Rob says.

  Before I can argue, another voice comes through the device.

  “This is Major Stanford of the Capital Military Corps. You are under arrest. Lay down any weapons you have and walk forward with your hands visible. If you do not comply in ten seconds, you will be forcibly taken.”

  My eyes are fixed to the screen.

  “You have no reason to arrest anyone. We’re an independent settlement.” We can hear Bodie’s voice, but the image on his screen has changed. He must have tossed the unit under a desk or chair with the transmit button locked on; all we see is a fragment of counter and ceiling.

  “Don’t try to resist. Step out.” The same commanding voice as before.

  “By whose orders? What authority do you have?”

  There’s a pause, and then: “By order of Director Kurosawa T’Kai of the Ministry of Science and Engineering. This unauthorized colony has been implicated and found guilty of high treason. All non-citizens found on site will be immediately moved to the prisoner settlement on Keum Libre for sentencin
g. This is your last opportunity to surrender.”

  All of us stare transfixed at my VDU, listening to Bodie’s deep breathing, sounding almost as if he’s sleeping. David suddenly grabs both of my hands, and I realize they’d been shaking from a mixture of fury and fear for Bodie.

  Bodie’s voice: “V, Karl, if you’re hearing this, you can’t let these bastards get away with this.”

  “What’s he—?” I start, but I’m cut off sharply by the blunt sound of guns firing, at least three automatics opening up. Gasping, I feel myself coming apart at the seams as I listen to the barrage, knowing that Bodie had fired first, knowing that he would rather die than be taken captive. “No, Bodie, no, no…” The words echo through my head, no no no, but it’s all over in seconds. More dust rains down on the VDU he’d left, then clears. At the screen’s rounded edge a few meters distant, Bodie lies still, his blond hair filled with dirt and blood. In a few seconds, we hear the gritty sound of boots stepping into the room.

  “Bag that body. See if you can find ID but don’t spend much time. We need to hit that other cesspool west of here today. Get a team in here to catalogue this equipment. These non-cits were doing more than growing vegetables.”

  “Should we bring any of the equipment with us, sir?”

  “Not at this time. We’ll leave a squad behind to secure it and come back once we transfer the prisoners to the fleet for disposal on Keum Libre.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The room grows still at the sound of the soldier retreating. I want to stop watching but can’t tear my eyes from the screen. As long as there’s something to see it feels like Bodie is still there, still communicating. A pair of military-issue boots moves into visibility and the man standing in them leans over the counter above the VDU, presumably looking over the equipment lying there.

  “Sir—”

  At the sound of his voice, the officer turns around and one foot stomps down on top of the device, killing the transmission.

  I look up into David’s face and see my own horror and sadness reflected in his wide eyes and downward-curling mouth. “Those murdering fucks,” he says and falls heavily into the wall behind him, shaking with shock and rage.