by Scott Rhine
Void Contract
Characters
Timeline
Star Chart
Prologue – 391 AF
Chapter 1 – Phantom Cosmonauts
Chapter 2 – The Gig
Chapter 3 – Going Legit
Chapter 4 – Family Secrets
Chapter 5 – The Inner Eye
Chapter 6 – Survival Lessons
Chapter 7 – Under Einstein’s Rubber Sheet
Chapter 8 – Discipline
Chapter 9 – Bargaining with Saurians
Chapter 10 – The Butler Did It
Chapter 11 – Bored to the Extreme
Chapter 12 – Third Date
Chapter 13 – Spoon Fu
Chapter 14 – Irons in the Fire
Chapter 15 – Pleasure Cruise
Chapter 16 – Loose Lips
Chapter 17 – The Elephant in the Loading Dock
Chapter 18 – Faux Pas
Chapter 19 – Customs
Chapter 20 – Turtle Embassy
Chapter 21 – Conception Spaceport
Chapter 22 – Can’t Go Home Again
Chapter 23 – Protect your own Asset
Chapter 24 – Proof
Chapter 25 – Riverboat
Chapter 26 – Assassins
Chapter 27 – Camp Kalanga
Chapter 28 – Bounty
Chapter 29 – The Official Story
Chapter 30 – Handshakes and Promises
Chapter 31 – Luau
Chapter 32 – Concussion Discussion
Chapter 33 – Failsafe
Chapter 34 – Thinking Caps and Blasting Caps
Chapter 35 – Plans
Chapter 36 – Becoming a Team
Void Contract
Book One of Gigaparsec
by Scott Rhine
Amazon Edition
Copyright 2015 Scott Rhine
To my wife, Tammy, who supports my labor of love.
Thanks to my editors Melissa Duclos and Weston Kincade, and my beta readers Denise Gabbard, Steven Terry, and Mike Binder.
Cover art by http://www.thecovercounts.com
Characters
Bortral – Blue Claw Saurian miner with a short temper.
Echo – Astrogator of the reclusive Magi race. She has been accused of murdering her two missing partners. Instead of her own form, she echoes the face of whoever the visitor has wronged most.
Grachov – Yellow Slash Saurian muscle. Named for one of the original Russian “phantom” cosmonauts erased from the official records.
Gunther – A Neanderthal guard who works for the governor.
Helena Claremont – Wife of disgraced and corrupt Human politician Xavier Claremont III, member of the Lunar Oligarch Council who retired to become governor of Eden.
Isolchar – A fat and ancient former mayor of a major Phib city. Claims to be dedicated to peace and the restoration of the union with other species.
Ivy – A short, curvaceous hairdresser. Roz’s best friend.
Jeeves – An odd alien mimic that hides under the bed … and makes it.
Jubalasch – Saurian copilot of The Inner Eye
Kachur – Saurian sniper assigned to protect Max. Named for one of the original Russian “phantom” cosmonauts erased from the official records.
Lisa Troutwine – An attractive Human assistant to Governor Claremont.
Max Culp – A Human !Kung doctor and Turtle Special Forces operative from Eden. His new name was selected from the Catholic rite of penitence—mea máxima culpa—meaning, through my most grievous fault.
Reuben – A black-sheep Goat communications tech. His mission name was chosen because of his penchant for Reubenesque women and his pure artistry as a forger.
Roz – Chief Engineer Shiraz Mendez. Human starship repair tech from a high gravity world.
Sanderjee – Turtle ambassador on Eden preserve.
Vrilkesh – Saurian money launderer for the mob and clutch brother of Zrulkesh. Disappeared with a fortune rightfully stolen by others.
Zrulkesh – A dodgy Saurian captain of The Inner Eye hired to identify his clutch brother Vrilkesh.
Timeline
The Anodyne calendar begins the year of the colony’s founding (1 AF).
015 Stewart Llewellyn rules Anodyne colony
080 Anodyne teaches Earth oligarchy to build starships
091 Jotunheim mining colony founded by oligarchs
105 At Union convocation, Anodyne named mentor for the Panda race
106 Venice founded as an oligarch farming and biofuel colony
125 Shangri-La founded, first Anodyne colony
130 Vegas founded by oligarchs to establish trade lines
138 Anodyne’s great terraforming project begins to save Earth
140 Eden oligarch colony attempted, the great mistake.
141 Anodyne cosigns a long-term Goat loan from Bankers
149 Laurelin founded, Llewellyn’s private retirement planet
150 Jotunheim orbital shipyards established
151 Earth slips into the time of chaos, and the oligarchy inhabits the Moon
210 Commercial interests dominate space and second Earth exodus begins
230 Stewart Llewellyn dies
256 Anodyne pays installment of Goat loan in exchange for New Hawaii
270 Mayflower colony ship misjumps
271 Black Ram Xerxes dies
278 Pirate activity forces construction of first Human warship
312 Border skirmishes lead to thawing of embryo Churchill Llewellyn
320 Evidence of Phib theft and genocide uncovered
321 Last Llewellyn raised by Stewart destroyed with his diplomatic vessel
333 Max Culp joins Union Navy as a medic
338 New Hawaii falls
345 Mnamnabo falls, but tide turns in favor of alliance
351 Max joins Turtle Special Forces
385 Gigaparsec War officially ends
Star Chart
Prologue – 391 AF
“Patience,” Max whispered to himself. “Wait for the hole.” The assault on the compound would proceed whether or not he succeeded, but if he screwed up, a lot of his friends would die in this swamp.
The Turtle Special Forces raid of the remote plantation on the backwater world of Napoleon had been months in the planning. Dozens of Saurian troops from every surviving task force had been called in for this assault. The target, a Phib war criminal and drug lord, had spent the decades since the end of the war fortifying his swamp base. This was the last remaining stronghold of the amphibian resistance. The hundred Phib “agricultural specialists” were all ex-military, guilty of some of the worst war crimes in history. As usual, Max had to go in first; he didn’t expect to reach his thirty-third birthday.
The aliens known as Phibs could work themselves up into a frenzy, shredding everything nearby, so surprise was critical in planning any attack. Burning them down at range was best. God help any soldier who had to face them in the water. Phibs weren’t cute tree frogs, chirping merrily in swamps like the one surrounding Max. Instead, early contact literature associated them with the Creature from the Black Lagoon, H. P. Lovecraft’s Deep Ones, and Arabian Sea Devils. Unlike the movies, Phibs had no interest in Human women. Pillaging someone else’s natural resources was their specialty. Diplomats had spent years overcoming instinctive racial aversions, only to learn to hate the Phibs for other reasons.
Humans were among the most versatile and adaptable species in the Union, but they had the highest casualty rates in battle. Therefore, Max served as a medic. If he could patch a wounded Saurian and haul it to a regeneration tank, it could survive almost anything. However, for a few
minutes every mission, the multi-species task force needed Max for his other talents.
Any decent technician could bypass heat and motion sensors, but this compound was patrolled by psi talents who could detect intelligent life half a kilometer away. According to the Union charter, these unarmed mercenaries couldn’t be killed outright. These men wore biomonitors, which made them Human canaries in the coal mine. If a psi’s heart stopped or their brains went into theta state, the whole site went on alert. The task force’s non-lethal sonic weapons weren’t effective beyond thirty meters, either. That meant someone had to sneak up on the psis and shoot them with paralytic darts. Because he was a medic who petrified people, Max’s call sign was Medusa.
Max’s distant ancestors had crept up on animals in the Kalahari Desert for food. As a !Kung tribesman, he had a genetic anomaly—psis couldn’t sense him. When hunting, he manifested as a psychic null. Even in the same room, people seldom noticed him until he spoke. Then, his stark, blue eyes attracted more attention than his light-brown skin.
The lieutenant had ordered him to wait for the cool, evening rain shower because cold-blooded Phibs grew more sluggish after a sudden lowering of temperature. The reason didn’t make the weather any less miserable for Max, though, as he slogged through the mud, creeping behind broad-leafed bushes for cover. He used a long pole to hop over the narrow moat to the one spot without razor wire.
He activated the sound suppressor at the base of his grapnel hook, and the patter of rain vanished. In the eerie silence, Max tossed the anchor over the crest of the stone wall and climbed up the thin rope. He sliced a pant leg open on the glass fragments studding the top. Crouched on the catwalk, he paused a moment to stare at the hole, but no blood flowed. Relieved, he snapped the noise canceller onto his wrist to become a ghost.
A green light flashed inside his goggles. His assigned sniper, Kachur, had just confirmed the coast was clear. The Saurian always watched out for him. Anyone who got the drop on Max would lose his kneecaps like magic. Once when Max had slipped through a skylight, an entire room full of criminals had fallen over in seconds. The egg-born Saurians had a saying, “The clutch is one.” Always cover your teammates.
The closest psi huddled under the eaves of the corner turret. His only warning of Max’s approach was the sudden lack of sound from the rain. He tried to ask a question, but the sonic buffers swallowed his words also. Max fired two darts and lowered the man into a chair. The green light flashed again. Saurians were already sprinting up the damp hillside toward this corner.
Max borrowed the mercenary’s uniform jacket. Disguised, he walked casually toward the next turret. Inside the compound, he could see a drying barn for leaves and sacks of some sort of pesticide, possibly a deterrent for the huge swamp rats.
The second early-warning psi had even less time to react as Max shot from the hip.
A blinking red light told him to hightail it back to the entry point. When he returned, a wedge of Saurians already held the wall. They had neutralized a gatehouse and opened the drawbridge. Max jogged down the inner ramp because Phibs didn’t build staircases. He had to turn off the sound baffles to hear the frantic communication.
The squad leader pointed out the gate. “The rope broke on Grachov.” Max could imagine the thin line fraying against the glass-studded parapet as the others ascended, snapping on the last commando and dropping him up to ten meters. The advance team had minutes to blow the anti-aircraft battery, not enough time to tend to their comrade.
Since Max’s mission was complete, he could triage Grachov, and if necessary, evacuate him to the transports. Max nodded and grabbed a broom to use as a splint or crutch.
When he crept back out to the moat, he was unprepared to see the gray Saurian thoroughly tangled in razor wire. The skin only looked as tough as dragon hide. Blood smeared Grachov’s face, left arm, and tail. His right arm also bent in the wrong place, probably fractured. Worse, when the swimmers came by next, he would be an easy kill. Gazing into the frightened, wrinkled eyes, Max had to do something to help. He couldn’t leave a brother to die.
Cutting him loose, I’ll be Phib bait myself, but the clutch is one.
Since Max didn’t have any wire cutters in his belt pouches, he called over the comms, “Kachur, cover Grachov while I grab a can opener.”
“Negative, Medusa. I have to clear the shuttle pad.”
“Thirty heartbeats,” Max begged.
Kachur appealed to his superior.
The lieutenant came over the comm. “Permission to pause at the wall for thirty on your way to the perch.”
Max flipped on his power vest and crouched beside the injured Saurian. He also switched clips from paralytics to explosive tips. A few drugs wouldn’t slow down a Phib with his rage on. He also put on his heaviest hand-to-hand weapon, the vibro gloves. Then Max vibrated a piece of razor wire to saw the broomstick in half. He improvised an arm splint with the wood and his borrowed coat sleeves.
Something exploded. Max leaned over his patient to shield the wounds from further infection. Burnt plastic, dirt, and gear pieces rained down on them, splashing in the water. Good-bye anti-aircraft guns.
His vest repelled the hot ash and made it spiral prettily, but the big chunks only slowed. Then something heavy slammed his shoulder into Grachov. A Phib guard on the wall had taken a shot at him with a sonic rifle, but the dampeners had done their job. Each successive shot would hurt a little more until his organs cooked.
Kachur shouted, “Setting up suppression fire. Send some frilling air support.” Since the interspecies team communicated in Banker, profanity lost a bit in the translation.
The advance stalled as more soldiers on the wall engaged the attackers pouring from the woods. Heavy energy-weapons set fire to the underbrush where Kachur hid. If one of those beams hit him, he was toast.
Max addressed his patient with brutal honesty. “Our rescuers are now in need of rescue.”
“We make our own exit,” Grachov decided.
“Without a cutting tool my gloves would only embed the metal barbs deeper into your skin,” Max warned.
The Saurian handed over a serrated survival knife.
Taking great pains, Max blurred the knife into a jigsaw. He freed Grachov’s legs and tail first. By the time he reached the neck area, his glove batteries were running low. He could only sever one side of the last few strands.
Grachov growled with impatience. “Guards will be here soon. Move back.” Before Max could object, the brute wrapped his padded, splinted arm in the tangle of wire and pulled.
Max winced as more blood oozed from Grachov’s face and shoulder. A wooden stake popped from the ground and dangled from the end of the wire. “Now.”
Ten centimeters taller than Max, the limping soldier leaned on him as Saurian aircraft screamed into the compound. Troops leapt from open cargo doors. This was it—all or nothing.
“You’re going to have some pretty ugly scars,” Max said as they crossed the bridge centimeters over the muddy water. He breathed still faster at the thought of what might be swimming hidden beneath the surface.
“What does not kill me makes me more desirable for mating.”
The two didn’t waste more air on small talk as they loped toward the command van. As Max lowered his patient to the tailgate, the last two officers from the command center emerged with a shoulder-mounted launcher. “Kachur is down.”
“I’ll find him.”
“No,” said the commander. “You hold down the comm center. Keep Orbital One in the loop. We can’t let the target reach his escape shuttle.”
Max glanced at the empty van. “Sure.”
Moving Grachov beside the radio, Max sterilized the wounds and found pliers to pull the rest of the wire free. As he was sewing and rechecking, an invisible giant rocked the van, causing its suspension to creak and sway.
Max peeked out the rear of the vehicle. The fortress on the hillside was burning. He didn’t know which side had triggered the explosion, but
the drug processing plant must have had a lot of flammable chemicals. Then the ammunition, batteries, and fuel tanks detonated in secondary explosions, knocking him to the floor.
He found the radio. “Orbital One, what just happened?”
After a sobering conversation, Max whispered, “Well Grachov, you just became the sexiest Saurian on this planet. We’re the only survivors.”
Chapter 1 – Phantom Cosmonauts
When the stasis cut off, Max’s ears popped from the drop in air pressure. The nausea meant that he had been a statue a long time, probably over a year. Yet to him, the pickup from Orbital One had been only yesterday. “I hate my job.”
His sole companion, a gray Saurian in matching blue coveralls, flexed his neck frills in agitation. “You hate amateurs botching the hunt even more.” As Grachov stretched his bulging muscles, numerous pink scars testified to his recent session in a regeneration tank.
Max called up their location on the computer. The screen in front of him showed pools of green at the planet’s poles and around major cities. The rest swirled with orange, tan, and cinnamon deserts. He read aloud, “The sixth Human colony, called Vegas because it was such a gamble. It’s hot and dry—your ideal.”
“When can we leave? I’m tired of living in a squeezing can and eating out of one, too.”
“Keep telling yourself that this is the last job. The GPS informs me our shipping container is still in the customs quarantine bay,” Max warned. He tapped the wall of non-perishable hospital supplies. “Our cover is medical supplies in a diplomatic pod.”
“Who’s picking us up? It better be frilling soon.”
Checking his message buffer, Max said, “One of the black-sheep kids is doing recon and electronic surveillance for us.” Goats made lousy field operators due to a total lack of operational awareness but were great for criminal support.
“Michelangelo?” asked the Saurian with a toothy grin. “He knows how to have a thrashing good time.”
