by Joseph Rhea
NOVUM: GENESIS
By Joseph Rhea
NOVUM: GENESIS Copyright © 2013 by Joseph Rhea. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this eBook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the author, who can be contacted by email at: [email protected]
Book cover by David Rhea
(DaveRhea.net)
Also available in print worldwide.
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Contents
Chapter 01
Chapter 02
Chapter 03
Chapter 04
Chapter 05
Chapter 06
Chapter 07
Chapter 08
Chapter 09
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
About the Author
Books by Joseph Rhea
Chapter 01
Jake looked at the angry, hairy faces of the men surrounding him and tried to remember why they were trying to kill him. Before he could form the next thought, another fist slammed into his right cheek, and it felt as though his head twisted right off of his body. Then the lights went out.
In the utter darkness that followed, he saw his girlfriend’s face, her pale blue eyes pleading with him, her mouth forming silent words as she fell away from him and disappeared into the icy-cold depths. He saw the same image every night when he closed his eyes, every time he passed out after too much alcohol, and every time he took a well-deserved blow to the head. He’d had hundreds of nightmares like this in the past six months, and he still had no idea what she was trying to tell him. Maybe he would never know.
When he reluctantly opened his eyes, he saw a different woman’s face staring down at him. She had long black hair, which she wore in a ponytail, and fierce black eyes. She also had small tattoos on her temples, and she was wearing a dark-blue jumpsuit that showed off her fit body. She reached down and helped him stand.
“Please tell me you’re not Jake Stone,” she said.
“Please tell me you’re not an enforcer,” he replied as he tried to regain his balance. Then he rubbed his jaw and felt for broken teeth. None this time.
The woman looked annoyed. “Are you, or are you not, Jacob Stone, the current legal owner of the cargo vessel Rogue Wave?”
“Look, if you’re here to collect credits like the rest, you’ll have to get in line.” He looked around the darkened alley. “Speaking of the line, what happened to the guys I was just talking to?”
“You mean the four men who were beating the sludge out of you? I persuaded them to come back later.”
“How the hell did you do that?”
“I told them I’m an officer in the Shippers Guild and that you owed me more than you owed them.”
He tried to massage the back of his neck and felt a monstrous headache building in his temples. “They actually believed you?”
“One of them didn’t,” she said and then glanced over his shoulder.
He turned and saw a man’s crumpled body on the ground behind the recycling bin. Jake couldn’t tell if he was dead or just unconscious.
“As for the rest,” she continued, “I offered to buy them a few rounds down at the bar, and they wisely accepted. Listen, I don’t have a lot of time. My name is Juno, and I need to rent your ship for a week or so. It’s a simple transport job, nothing complicated.”
“You want to rent—what?” His head was pounding now. Maybe he needed another drink, too. “Listen, Ms. Juno, I appreciate what you did for me here, but the Wave isn’t available for transport work. She hasn’t touched water in six months, and she doesn’t even have a crew.” He paused to spit blood off to the side. “Now, if you want to rent it out for a party or maybe store something inside for a while, I can make you a good deal.”
She leaned toward him and opened a small bag stuffed full of credits, both gold and silver from what he could see in the dim light. Whatever the amount, it was more money than he had seen in a long while. She whispered, “I have my own crew, and I think, under the circumstances, you would be wise to accept this offer.”
“Was that a threat?” He tried to laugh, but the sound of raised voices in the bar down the alley made him stop. He didn’t know if it had anything to do with him, but it wouldn’t be smart to wait around to find out. “So, how soon do you want to leave?”
“Right away. My crew is waiting for us at the docks.” She paused and then added, “First, I have to ask you a question. Why were you just standing there, letting those men beat you up? I watched for a couple of seconds before intervening, and you didn’t lift a finger to protect yourself.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied. If he told her the truth, if he told her how the girl in his nightmares had died, she might agree that he deserved the beating. Hell, she might even join in. She would also withdraw her offer, and he really needed the credits. “Look, if want to go, let’s get moving.”
They left the alley and headed toward the Metalworks district. It was at least another couple of hours until sunrise, but the stars on that side of the city were glowing brightly, so he kept to the shadows. Luckily, very few people were up at that time of the morning, which made getting to the elevators unnoticed that much easier. Still, he began to jog when he reached the plaza.
“I told you that we wanted to leave right away,” she said when she caught up with him, “but I don’t think we need to run all the way there.”
“Too many people I need to avoid,” he whispered back. “I’d need a dozen bags that size to pay back everyone I owe.”
They reached the elevators and picked one heading down to the city’s lower docks. The main docks were where most of the big tugs and cargo haulers brought food and supplies from the agro-domes and hauled workers to and from the mining stations.
There was another series of docks on the far side of the city. They were used for ferrying Council members and high-ranking government officials to and from the other major cities of the colony. He, of course, had never even seen pictures of those docks, and probably never would.
The Rogue Wave was berthed far below all of them, down in one of the smaller “service” docks.
When they reached the right level and the door slid open, Jake paused a moment before stepping out. He had been robbed more than once when coming back to his ship late at night, and now, with a bag full of credits, they would be obvious targets.
Fortunately, the service docks were mostly empty. That is, with the notable exception of a small group of people moving equipment into the front loading door of the Rogue Wave.
“What the hell are you doing?” he bellowed too loudly as he approached his ship. His head was really beginning to pound. “How did you know I was going to accept your offer? What if I just tell you all to get the hell off my boat?”
“Then we would ask the captains of one of these other fine vessels to help us,” a woman said as she put down a box and turned toward him. She was about the same height as Juno, but a bit older and a few pounds heavier, not that any of the half-dozen people facing him were fat. You had to be rich to be fat, and even considering the casual way Juno had offered the bag of credits to him, he co
uld tell that these people were working class. Also, rich people didn’t come down to the service docks in the middle of the night to rent cargo ships.
“These fine vessels?” Jake smirked as he looked at the other two boats in the dock: Caprice, owned by a heavy drinker named Eddy, and Hope’s Desire, owned and captained by a half-crazy woman named Lily. Both vessels were in far worse shape than the Wave. “I don’t think you know your ships, lady.”
“In fact, I do know my ships,” she said, walking toward him. “At least I know yours.”
He took a step toward her as well. “Do you now?”
“It’s a seventy-meter, Proteus-Class cargo hauler. Five thousand metric ton displacement, solid-cast hull, twin induction thrusters. Converted to a deep salvage vessel by its former owner, Marcus Coal, now deceased. Used to be called The Messenger when he and his daughter—”
“That’s enough,” Jake nearly yelled. When he calmed down, he added, “Rattling off specs doesn’t mean you know a ship.” He looked up at the Wave. “You have to live inside her for a while to really get to know a vessel like this.” His thoughts drifted back to his life before meeting the Coal family. His view of the world used to be so simple, so easy to—
Juno cleared her throat. “Jake Stone, this is Nia Moon.”
“You can call me Nia if you’d like, Captain.” She held out her hand. “I assume we have a deal.”
He kept his hand down. “I’m not a captain, Ms. Moon. I’m sure your girl here can vouch for the fact that I’m just a ship owner with a bilge full of bills to pay.” He glanced up at the Wave. “Speaking of which, I assume you will be paying all fuel costs for this trip, as well?”
Juno interrupted him. “Her girl?” She moved toward him as if she were going to punch him.
“AJ!” Nia said firmly, and Juno stopped just short of throwing a swing. “Mr. Stone is our employer for the next week or so. Don’t you think that we should treat him accordingly?”
“Yeah, AJ, don’t be so touchy,” Jake said, knowing his comment would probably make her strike him.
Instead, she patted his swollen cheek then leaned in close and whispered, “My friends call me AJ. You’re not my friend.” She then turned, grabbed a container that was too big for one person to carry, and disappeared through the Wave’s loading door.
He rubbed his cheek and mumbled, “I think I’m beginning to like her.”
“Very well, then,” Moon said. As everyone else went back to work loading supplies, she gave him a quick overview of the additional six people who would be serving as temporary crew. There was Vee, an attractive, bronze-skinned woman about Jake’s age, who was a newly certified helmsman. A tall, well-muscled fellow named Ash who was an experienced navigator. A much younger girl named Jessie—Ash’s younger sister—was the acoustics officer.
There was also an older, gray-haired fellow named Norman Raines—Vee’s grandfather—who was supposedly a Class-5 Engineer. What he was doing on a small hauler like the Wave was anyone’s guess. Two other men, the Range brothers, were busy hooking up power lines to recharge the ship’s batteries. Nia referred to them as her “specialists,” but based on the work tunics they wore and their familiarity with ship operations, their jobs were obvious; they were grunts.
“A lot of family members on your crew,” he said. “Most people think it leads to divided loyalties.”
“On the contrary,” Nia replied. “I find having family on board helps bond a crew together. Family ties are always stronger than crew allegiances.”
He observed the crew moving equipment into the Wave. “Juno is your only loner. I assume she’s your first mate.” Young, smart, confident, and a bit of a risk taker, she fit the bill perfectly.
“They’re all good people,” Nia said. “Certified, reliable, trustworthy.”
“So how’d you manage to talk all of these ‘good people’ into serving aboard the Rogue Wave?” he asked, keeping his voice down. “Since you seem to know so much about my ship, I’m sure you know its history.”
“I assume you are referring to the curse?” she asked openly. “I told them the truth. Accidents happen on ships, especially salvage vessels. Sometimes, they even happen to a member of the captain’s family. Surely you don’t believe the Rogue Wave is cursed because—”
“All I know,” he interrupted, “is that I inherited a ship that no one will crew on, let alone purchase from me for a fair price. If that’s not a curse, I don’t know what is. Anyway, I guess it doesn’t matter to me, if it doesn’t matter to you. If you can give me your flight plan, I’ll get the process started so we can get out of here.” He glanced at the elevators and was surprised the men from the alley hadn’t shown up yet. Maybe they thought Juno had taken him somewhere else. Still, they would probably come looking before long.
Nia handed him a disposable slate, and he read it as he walked over to dock control. The flight plan would take them up near the northern border of the colony to some small outpost he’d never heard of, which wasn’t that was unusual; in his short time serving under Captain Coal, he had visited more border towns than he could count. Why anyone would choose to live so far from one of the larger cities was beyond his understanding. Coal had said that since the outposts needed supplies on a regular basis, they were his “bread and butter” cargo runs, but since Jake had no idea what bread and butter were, the meaning was lost on him.
He spent several minutes arguing with the night-shift dockmaster over the percentage of his overdue dock fees he needed to pay. He ended up giving him just half of his rental credits in exchange for a promise to let the man’s youngest son have a wedding party aboard the Wave at the end of the month. Bartering for docking fees was a time-honored tradition in the lower levels, and he had been forced to learn the ins and outs of it just to stay out of debtor’s jail.
When they were finally cleared for departure, he took one last glance toward the elevators and saw several of the men from the alley exiting. They started toward his ship, but the ship-departing alarms went off, and they had to turn back. He smiled at them and pressed the button to close the loading door. “See you when I get back,” he yelled.
Chapter 02
As the Rogue Wave’s big ramp door sealed itself into place, Jake took a moment to prepare for the reality of shipboard life. As the only child of fairly wealthy parents, he had grown up with the luxury of getting to play in the open-air dome of Capitol City for a full hour every other day. That’s why he had difficulty adjusting to the small rooms and low ceilings of ships like his. Even though he had been sleeping aboard the Wave for six months, he seldom spent any daytime hours there. A full week on board, especially with a crew of strangers, just might kill him.
Doors on both sides of the cargo bay led up a few steps to observation corridors heading aft. When he felt he was ready, he took the starboard route, and after passing through a double-door lockout, he came to a wide junction in the middle of C-deck. From there, he could enter the medical bay on one side, the dive lockers on the other, continue aft to the four deck-crew quarters, shuttle lockout, and recreation room, or turn around and go up a flight of stairs to the B-deck, which was where he headed.
The B-deck contained the six living quarters for the bridge crew as well as the galley, the mess hall, and two large storage rooms. Right in front of him, a second stairwell took him up to the bridge.
He slowly climbed those last steps and nervously lifted his head above the top tread. He had not dared to venture even this far into the bridge in six months, but he didn’t want these new people to know. Captain Coal always said, “You have to stow your fears around the crew.”
The bridge of the Rogue Wave was unique among cargo haulers in that it was located at the top of the ship, inside a large, elongated dome with huge curved viewports on all sides. Most experienced shellbacks looked down on the design, saying it was useless at best and hazardous at worst. Captain Coal loved it, though, preferring to look out the viewports whenever possible, rather than use the c
onsole displays like the rest of the crew. He called it “facing the blue,” even though what he saw through the viewports was mostly black when the low-light filters were turned off.
As if on cue, dark seawater rose over the bridge viewports as the Rogue Wave was lowered into its lockout chamber. When the hangar door above them sealed itself, the bridge was plunged into darkness. Automatic lighting kicked in, and the room came alive with numerous glowing buttons and display panels. He then felt a slight vibration in the stairs as the ship moved backward out of the lockout. He knew a large outer door behind him would be opening, and soon, they would enter the open sea.
In the glow of the internal lights, he saw Nia standing in the command station, just in front of the helm and nav consoles, staring out the large circular forward viewport. That was just where Captain Coal had stood during those last, desperate minutes of his command, and it was where Jake had later found himself forced to make a decision that would forever alter his life, the Coal family’s, and everyone else’s on board.
He shook the memory away and, taking a deep breath, forced himself to walk all the way up the stairs. He stopped at the base of the rectangular chart table in the middle of the bridge, fighting to prevent a panic attack. He focused on the three-dimensional model of the Rogue Wave displayed in the center as it backed out of the service dock. When the docking arms released it, the ship made a hard turn to port and headed away from Capitol City at full thrust.
He turned and stared out of the aft viewport at the receding dome, and he wondered why he never missed it when he left, despite having lived there his entire life. Capitol City was beautiful, at least from the outside. Its most prominent feature was, obviously, the kilometer-wide upper dome that housed the city itself. Below the dome were a series of disk-shaped structures attached to a central shaft. These were the “working” levels of the city and included the docks, engineering, reclamation, recycling centers, and at the very bottom, the city’s power plant. The entire thing was lit up with navigational lights that could be seen for several kilometers. “A miracle of human engineering,” his father used to say, but nobody young thought of it that way. For many of Jake’s generation, Capitol City was a prison, if not for the body, then for the spirit.
