Redemption: Book 2 of Warner's World

by Dave O'Connor

  As he approached the far side of the moon he was hailed. “Unknown craft this is Wallacia Control. Identify yourself.”

  “Wallacia Control this is Redneck 45 inbound with medical supplies for trade.”

  There was a long pause before he got a response. Finally it came. “Redneck 45 proceed to 231568, 572931 altitude 140km and await further instructions.”

  Art expected them to be cautious. He just hoped they weren’t lining him up for their ground batteries. He arrived at the designated location just above the moon’s atmosphere and maintained a geo stationary orbit.

  Half an hour passed before his scanners detected a launch. The sensors indicated a small craft. Sure enough it was a probe. It flew to within 20kms, all its sensors working overtime. Its long range cameras streamed a feed down to the displays in Wallacia Control.

  “Redneck 45 you are clear to land at Wallacia space port, Bay 13 only. You will be boarded and inspected on arrival. Comply fully or you will be destroyed.”

  ‘That’s a tad heavy handed’ thought Art. “Roger that Control.”

  The glide path down to the surface took the Streamliner from lightness to dark. As he taxied to Bay 13 he could see the reception committee from his cockpit. The floodlights splashed over some of them but others were still in the dark. He switched the cameras to thermal and counted no less than 22 figures out there. ‘Some reception committee’ he thought. ‘At least they aren’t in suits.’

  He killed the cameras and the engines, turned on the lights in the hold at the rear, walked past the refrigerated containers containing the medical supplies, left his suit on the rack and opened the rear hatch. He walked out slowly with his opened hands clearly in view. The lights were in his eyes making it hard to see.

  “That will do” said a deep voice emanating from the large figure moving towards him. Others on his left and right had their weapons drawn and aimed at him. “ID please?”

  Art handed them his ID. The deep voice took it and wiped it over his mobile console. It interrogated the data. “Retina scan if you please Mr Canard” and the deep voice held up his console facing Art. Art stood still and kept his eyes opened while the software and the lens did their work.

  “I’m Jas Holkins Mr Cannard. Can you please make way why we inspect your cargo?”

  “Sure” said Art and he let Holkins and his two best buddies’ follow him back inside. Holkins gave a thorough look around the hold. Every now and then he looked back to his console to see if any alerts had fired during the scan. He opened the refrigerated containers and picked out a pack at random. He looked at it closely then turned to Art. “Open it!”

  Art did so revealing the capsules contained within. Holkins broke open one of the capsules pouring its contents into a vial he had taken from his pocket. Lights flashed and he checked the information on his console. “OK Mr Cannard that checks out. So far so good.”

  He motioned for Art to close the container and then to move forward into the front section of the craft. He opened the crew compartment and inspected the cupboard containing Art’s clothes. They crossed over to the small kitchenette.

  “My scanners detect a compartment under here Mr Cannard” said Holkins as he pointed to the floor.

  “Yep” said Art. “Better stand back” and he hit the release control hidden in the cupboard under the sink. The floor slid back revealing a compartment about the size of a man lying down. There was a trunk in the compartment.

  “Can you open that please Mr Cannard?”

  “Yep” said Art and he bent down and opened it. The trunk was full of tools. Holkins gave it a cursory inspection and motioned for him to close it.

  “Do you have any weapons on board Mr Cannard?”

  “Yep, I do” said Art and he opened the wall compartment behind the cockpit, revealing two pulse rifles and two pistols.

  “You will need to hand those in for the duration of your stay Mr Cannard.”

  “I understand” and he passed the weapons to the guard on the left who then exited out the back and one of his mates replaced him in the craft.

  The inspection of the cockpit concluded with no further distractions. They exited the craft and under the floodlights Holkins asked “How long to do you intend staying Mr Cannard?”

  “Depends on how long it takes to sell my cargo. A few days, a week, whatever.”

  “You have one week Mr Cannard. During that time you will report daily to my office inside the terminal. My advice to you is to sell your product quickly and leave quickly.”

  “That’s a bit restrictive. I may have to travel to find customers.”

  “Believe me Mr Cannard there are no customers outside of Wallacia. Your craft will be impounded here until you leave. You can leave your product here until you sell it. You can hire a vehicle to get around within the settlement and to move you product as you sell it.”

  The light was changing. Dawn was coming. Art took a look around and could see several other craft at the nearby bays, though most were empty.

  “Not exactly ‘open for business’ are you?” asked Art.

  “We don’t get too many unannounced visitors Mr Cannard. I suggest you get started and don’t forget to report each day. Non-compliance is not an option.” Holkins waved his arm and his buddies began leaving except for two who would obviously do the first shift on guard duty.

  Chapter 9. Wallacia 0630, 14 January

  It was another 30 minutes before Art emerged from the terminal. His new best buddy Phil at the vehicle hire desk had given him a lead along with the key to his new mode of transport and the address of the best hotel in town, the Wymar. Art was now trying to determine which of the vehicles within the rental bay was his. He hit the locator button on the key and lights flashed on the third in line. It was a pretty ordinary ride but that suited him just fine.

  He got inside, inserted the key into the rest on the dash and leaned forward to allow his retinas to be scanned. The car started automatically confirming all was well. He punched in the destination and the nav system asked him to select from two options. He selected the first one and the route was displayed on the top surface of the dashboard and merged into the lower portions of the front window.

  He headed out from the rentals bay and followed the highlighted route into the so called downtown area of Wallacia. As he cruised along he noted first that there were no other vehicles on the road. He saw one car parked at what looked like a warehouse just on the edge of the space port precinct. But that was it for other vehicles.

  He reminded himself that it was very early but as he drove further into the centre where there should have been more activity he concluded that the place was virtually deserted. By the time he reached Hotel Wymar a few vehicles had joined him on the road.

  He grabbed his bag from the car now parked in the underground car park of the hotel. Looking around he counted around thirty vehicles but the vast majority of spaces were empty. He took the elevator to the ground floor and headed over to the reception desk where a very attractive woman was explaining the bill to an unhappy guest.

  “Just one minute Sir” she said to him. Art nodded and then looked over to the dining room. In its heyday it could have seated two hundred but now at 0730 there were barely twenty people seated.

  The discussion between the receptionists and the guest was getting a little heated, something to do with the bar tab. All the heat was coming from the guest. The receptionist was doing a remarkable job of keeping her cool.

  Art retired to a lounge chair about 10m away. It was the most comfortable thing he had sat in since Chester. He took the opportunity to study the breakfast menu that lay on the side table next to his chair.

  “Please Sir, how can I help you” said the receptionist. The unsatisfied guest was carrying his luggage out the front door shaking his head as he did so. The receptionist though was all poise with a pleasant smile to boot.

  “I would like a room for a week.”

  “You’re in luck Sir we have several op
tions” and she showed him the display with options from a standard room to the bridal suite.

  “It’s good to have options” said Art with a smile and a knowing expression.

  “Yes it is” she said politely. Still playing it straight she added “Is it just for you Sir?”

  “Yes, just me.”

  “Then can I recommend our deluxe room” and she zoomed the display to focus on the deluxe room, replete with the king size bed and spa bath.

  ‘What the heck’ thought Art ‘its Government money anyway.’ “Sure I’ll take it.”

  “Very good Sir.” She handled the rest of the registration with the same aplomb. But just as she was handing Art his pass key her expression changed dramatically. A large well-built man in a leather jacket leaned over the counter and handed her a note. He was looking intently at her and her previously unflustered demure expression changed to an anxious one. She opened the note and then put it under the counter. She nodded back at the man and he left without a word.

  ‘But she was good’ thought Art. She regained her composure very quickly and wished Art a pleasant stay.

  Chapter 10. Wallacia 0935, 14 January

  Art arrived at the premises of Westfall Med. He parked his car in the sparsely populated car park and walked quickly to the main entrance. He was now late for the appointment he had arranged from the hotel.

  It was a substantial two storey building that occupied the entire block. The desk at the front was unmanned. A sign instructed visitors to use the communicator provided. He did.

  “Mr Cannard?” said the male voice.

  “Yes.”

  “Please wait. I’ll be there in a moment.”

  A good five minutes passed before a man walked through the security door and introduced himself as Gerald Tiernan, the chief executive officer (CEO).

  “Sorry for the delay” he said with a harassed expression. “I’m flat out here at the moment. As you’ve possibly surmised every business in Wallacia is short staffed. Gone are the good old days.”

  He led Art to a meeting room where they sat in two chairs around a coffee table. Alas there was no offer of coffee to put on the table. “Now you mentioned you had some medical supplies to sell.”

  “That’s right. Here’s my stock list” and he handed Tiernan an ePaper. Tiernan scanned down the list. His eyes lit up when he got halfway down and they remained lit up after he reached the bottom.

  “I’m interested…if the price is right and we can inspect the product.”

  Art adjusted a setting on his console that displayed the pricing on the ePaper. Tiernan’s face now showed signs of disappointment. “You are asking a lot.”

  “I think we both appreciate that bringing these supplies here involves a fair degree of risk.”

  “Yes we’re used to paying a premium but just not this high. Is this your lowest price?”

  “’Fraid so” said Art without displaying any emotion.

  “Look I have a potential customer but I need to check with him first. Please wait here Mr Cannard. I will be back shortly.”

  Another five minutes passed. Tiernan opened the door and sat down. “It seems your timing is excellent Mr Cannard. My customer will take your entire shipment provided I verify the quality of the product and that you deliver it directly to his warehouse.”

  “Sure. Where is it?”

  “He will send one of his men to meet you at your hotel tomorrow morning at 0800. He will then direct you. Am I correct in assuming that you have your own spacecraft?”

  “Yes why?”

  “Well you will need it for the delivery. The destination is not on Turga.”

  “Where then?”

  “Xizu, the other moon. It’s a short trip.”

  “Hold on. I heard Xizu was closed down years ago – solar flares and all that.”

  “Don’t believe everything in the news Mr Cannard. Xizu is only prone to the odd solar flare on its nearward track around Pilla. It’s on its farward track now. It’s safe.”

  “There will be a surcharge for this.”

  “No there won’t. Just consider this the cost of doing business. I believe your prices can absorb the small extra cost.” He then leaned forward with a weak smile and added “Don’t you?”

  “Alright you win” said Art with a grin.

  Tiernan leaned back and laughed. “You are good Mr Cannard. Very good. Can I offer you some coffee?” and he gave Art a big hearty smile.

  Chapter 11. Wallacia 1700, 14 January

  Art arrived back at the hotel from the spaceport. Tiernan had given the medical supplies his tick of approval. ‘So far so good’ thought Art. He was tired. It had been a long day. He saw the bar and headed to it. There wasn’t anyone serving so he hit the bell on the counter.

  A minute later the receptionist appeared behind the bar. “Mr Cannard what can I get for you?” She gave Art her usual demure smile.

  Art pointed to the sign on the wall advertising a beer he had never heard of. “You get around.”

  “Yes these days you have to multitask.” She opened the bottle and began pouring it into an ice cold glass. “What’s your line of business Mr Cannard?”

  “Medical supplies.”

  “Risky business” she replied.

  “Will you join me” offered Art.

  “No I need to be getting back to the front desk.”

  Art glanced out through the archway to the front desk. It was deserted. “Doesn’t exactly look busy.”

  She laughed and her face relaxed. “That’s the understatement of the year. OK” she said “but I have expensive tastes” and she started mixing a cocktail.

  “My pleasure” said Art. “My name’s Art.”

  “I’m Tracy, Tracy Gordon.”

  “So Tracy what’s there to do around here at night?”

  “Depends what you’re after Art.”

  “I’m not too particular. I’d settle for a nice meal with some nice company. Some music would be a bonus.”

  “You don’t waste time do you” she said with a wry smile. Art just smiled back. She looked him over with an appraising eye. “OK, just dinner right?”

  Art nodded.

  “Give me half an hour and I’ll pick you up out front.”

  Half an hour later Art got into Tracy’s car. “Flash set of wheels” he said as he admired the car.

  “Yeah I like it.” She drove away and they were soon heading through more deserted streets.

  “Is it all like this?”

  “Mostly. It used to be so busy before the declaration. But once that was made, everyone got out.”

  “But not you?”

  “No my partner at the time had other plans and I was too dumb to heed the warnings. Now I’m stuck here.” The last words trailed off into silence as she turned the corner. Art could tell it wasn’t because of the need to focus on the driving.

  “What happened to your partner?”

  “She got careless” said Tracy and she shot Art a look to make sure he registered the feminine form of the pronoun.

  “I see” said Art and he smiled. Tracy smiled too and shrugged her shoulders while still holding the steering wheel. ‘She’s got a lovely smile’ observed Art to himself. “So what do you mean she got careless?”

  “It’s a long story… another time.”

  They drove in silence. Art could see that she was pre-occupied. He would take it slowly. A full twenty minutes later Tracy nosed her flash set of wheels into one of the many empty car spaces at what was once a town centre on the other side of Wallacia.

  “This is it” she said and jumped out.

  Art got out too and followed her into a small restaurant and bar. He was one of three men in amongst twenty or so females. The bar attendant was a woman too with close cropped hair and tattoos. She said “Hi” to Tracy and gave her a ‘well, what do we have here?’ look.

  “Mona this is Art. He’s OK. He’s a drug runner” said Tracy. Art and Mona exchanged nods.

  “Stepp
ing up in the world are we” said Mona to Tracy. “Table for two then” she said with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Yes please” came back Tracy using her formal demure expression.

  Mona led them to a table in the back, plonked down two menus and filled the water glasses. Then she turned to Art and said “They’re just for show. You look like you could use a real drink. What’s your poison?”

  “What do you recommend?”

  “Leave it with me. I’ll surprise you” and she gave Art a wicked smile. “The usual?” she asked Tracy and Tracy nodded. Mona turned and headed back to the bar.

  “Quite a character” said Art.

  “Oh Mona’s famous around here. Sweet as, but don’t cross her.”

  “I thought you said there will be music.”

  “I’ll ask Mona.”

  Mona was bringing back the drinks. Art eyed the blue concoction with a degree of suspicion. Sure enough she placed the blue one in front of Art and gave him a wink. He looked at it warily. “It won’t kill you. Safer than the stuff you’re peddling.”

  “Art’s into medical supplies Mona. I was only kidding about the drugs” said Tracy.

  “Sure, medical supplies” said Mona and she put her hand on Art’s shoulder, leaned closer and whispered “don’t worry Hun, your secret’s safe with me.”

  Art smiled and to Tracy said “thanks for the help.”

  Tracy shrugged her shoulders and turning to Mona asked “how about some music?”

  “Sure Tracy. Are we talking soft and romantic? I can turn down the lights too if you like.”

  “That’ll do Mona.”

  “OK I get the hint. Soft and romantic it is then” and Mona sashayed back to the bar.

  ‘For a big woman she moves gracefully’ thought Art. He laughed. They examined the menu and before too long Mona was back to take their order. “What’ll it be folks?”

  “What’s this Horan Stag?” asked Art.