Fleetfoot Interstellar: Fleetfoot Interstellar Series, Book 1

by P. Joseph Cherubino

  “Good Afternoon, Representative Singh. How are you?”

  “I am well, Senator,” Singh said, and before Abhay could parry with another pleasantry, Singh vaulted into his agenda. “My office tells me you’re about to announce an expanded budget for Interstellar Development and Exploration—”

  “What of it?” Abhay interrupted brusquely in an attempt to break the little man’s rhythm. It didn’t work.

  “And I wanted to ask you to amend a few items before you bring it to the floor.”

  “Not possible. Lower house comment period is closed.” Abhay said firmly.

  “Surely nothing is impossible for a man of your stature.”

  Abhay cast eyes toward the man for the first time, with eyebrows arched dramatically. The flattery was blatantly offensive. It gave Abhay pause. “Out of my hands. I follow the will of my committee.”

  “But surely the committee can amend the budget to include these items, especially ones that don’t involve arming of our civilian fleets.”

  Abhay froze in his tracks. His bodyguards formed a tight arrow around him. Singh’s own bodyguards caught up to him and stood beside their charge nervously. They were nowhere near the fighting caliber of Abhay’s men. Singh's House Army saw little action and was more vestigial than functional.

  “The Representative is misinformed,” Abhay said. The cool professional tone in his voice belied the menacing, rapier stare. To his credit, Mangalam stood his ground with no apparent distress.

  “I think not,” Singh said, his voice hard. Abhay maintained his countenance, but behind his dark eyes, he gave pause. This little Representative had damaging knowledge and was not above playing it like a wild card. Abhay was not accustomed to being challenged this way. For Singh to make this thrust, there must be more behind it. The little man was very shrewd.

  “There may be something we can discuss after the budget is passed,” Abhay said. “Contact my office,” and he broke away from the little man and his guards at a brisk pace.

  Eye contact with Malik told the head guard everything he needed to know. “Open channel: Dario,” Malik subvocalized to his comm implant. It would take some time for the fixer to answer, so Malik took the opportunity to gather more information.

  “Senator,” Malik began formally, “What should we expect regarding scheduling for your meeting with Representative Singh.”

  Abhay let the cloaked question bounce off his mind. He had no time for yet another layer of political intrigue. He was just trying to get through this next hour before he addressed both houses of Congress.

  “We will decide later,” Abhay replied. “We have much more pressing concerns.”

  Of that, Malik appeared uncertain. Abhay could read the subtle looks on his friend's face better than any book. They both knew how jackals like Singh operated. The Representative would not have made such an aggressive move had he not something potentially damaging. Abhay was bleeding somehow, and he didn’t realize it. If Singh could smell weakness, other predators were sure to pounce.

  “We have a leak,” Malik risked subvocalizing over an encrypted personal channel.

  “Possibly,” Abhay replied. The clipped tone was enough to silence Malik. The last thing they needed was for one of the hundreds of lobbyist spies to capture and decrypt a personal message between Senator and staff.

  The tight group made its way through the entry hall to the rotunda, almost half a kilometer toward the center of the dome. They reached the edge of this embarkation district where Government House opened up to reveal the engineered world that it was. This area held ceremonial gardens on a terrace that cantilevered over the vast rotunda floor. They had entered the District near the top, so Abhay’s progression to the Congressional Hall allowed him a view of the classical architecture of the buildings below. No matter how many times he saw the reconstructed city, it never failed to make him feel like he was staring back through time.

  But he had no time for sightseeing. Abhay gestured to Jabir, who immediately flagged down an open transport platform. The platform driver tipped his red cap and guided the rectangular vehicle to a landing. The crowd parted automatically at the transport’s approach without barely a glance. They piled on to the jump seats, and the pilot took off as Jabir ordered him to the Assembly Hall.

  As soon as the transport stopped, Abhay hopped off, leaving Jabir to tip the transport driver. The Senator Prince hurried toward the secondary entrance, and not the main arch, to the Congressional Dome. His entourage was surprised. It was obvious Abhay wanted to stop by his office first. The address was less than an hour away now.

  They hurried through the narrow, labyrinthine passages that stood in stark contrast to the smaller portion of Congress House. This was the working part of the government. This is the place where politicians and their staff labored, maneuvered, fought and generally played out the divine drama of representative democracy.

  Being a senior Senator, Abhay’s office was on the inner of the seven consecutive rings around the Assembly Dome. Staffers sprang to their feet as soon as Abhay crossed the threshold. He dismissed them with a wave and breezed to the rear of the offices to his private area.

  Abhay slammed the ancient antique teak door behind them. He moved behind the ornately carved sandalwood desk and deployed a palm-sized, disc-shaped device from a secret drawer. He slammed the device on the desk, and its surface glowed red, then amber, then green. The group waited for the green light to begin pulsing softly before they spoke. That was the only way they could be sure nobody was eavesdropping.

  “Bad enough, you need the jammer?” Malik asked boldly.

  “Yes,” Abhay said with vitriol. “Bad enough. I know what he has. I hesitated to tell you all because I didn’t want to give it a voice. I’ve heard rumors.”

  As if on cue, Dario returned Malik’s hail. The head guard held up his finger with questioning brow.

  “Yes, yes,” Abhay said impatiently, “Put him on the open channel.”

  “What can I do for you, Malik” Dario’s silken, disembodied voice spoke. The fact Dario used Malik’s name, and not his title, would tell anyone who was eavesdropping that Dario was not a man to be taken lightly.

  “Good afternoon, Dario. I have Senator Nautiyal here, and we are in conference. The Senator requires your service.”

  “Of course,” Dario replied, his Hindi accent flavored oddly by hints of Italian. Abhay could only imagine the monetary figures that danced before the operative’s eyes. This would drain his slush fund significantly. Abhay deplored private operatives, but they were needed in his world. Being a military spy master was difficult, but managing mercenaries were enough to make Abhay’s head spin. By ancient tradition, Military intelligence officers would rather kill themselves than participate in politics. So private spies it was. Abhay’s mentor once told him that this was one of the reasons for the longevity of their democracy, but Abhay never understood how this could be.

  “I need to know everything about one Congressman Mangalam Singh,” Abhay said.

  “This will not be difficult. Information about Representative Singh is not in short supply.”

  “Then let me be more specific. I need to know everything about his contacts and the sources those contacts use.”

  Dario said nothing. Abhay waited. When he replied, the cocky tone was missing from his voice.

  “Senator, were I to do that, I would not be an information dealer for very long, nor would I be likely to survive.”

  Abhay did not care. He had no time for the codified skullduggery and chivalrous subterfuge that greased the wheels of the very messy democracy that was the BJP empire.

  “It’s up to you, but I fail to see how you would pass up the opportunity to retire in splendor.”

  The word “retire” had an obvious double meaning that was not lost on Dario. “Where would I go in this resplendent golden age this job might buy me?”

  “Dario, I do not have time for this. Need I remind you of your previous occupation and my favo
r to you which saved you from a premature severance? Now is the time to repay that favor.”

  Abhay could almost hear Dario’s teeth grinding. He knew that Roman face all too well and knew that it was turning red with all the blood his spy’s heart could spare.

  “I will do this and send you the bill. I will also need certain equipment from Malik.”

  Abhay nodded to Malik, who passed the order immediately to Jabir and Madhuk. To do what Abhay asked, Dario would need to break many rules, both written and unspoken. Once the political operative did this job, he would be useless to Abhay or anyone else. The Senator figured it was worth the cost. His intuition told him that Singh had an exceedingly dangerous form political ammunition.

  15

  “What do we do now!” Gajrup shouted inside his helmet. The EV suit canceled sound waves to the outside world and converted them into EM signals that, in turn, transmitted his panic to the group.

  “I can see them,” Samuel answered, his voice a life preserver in a choppy sea. “Just hold on.”

  Through the false color lines of the scope, Samuel took note of the soldiers crossing the field. Reggie hacked the rifle’s electronics and converted its menu systems into standard tradespeak. Samuel had full access to the entire range of the weapon’s capabilities. Without disturbing his field of view, Samuel flicked a physical switch on the rifle chamber housing that changed the rounds from armor piercing to explosive. There was no record in the rifle of the explosive yield, so he could only hope the rounds wouldn’t cause collateral damage.

  “Stay still, for now, Gajrup,” Drexler said. He struggled to keep his voice even as his heart beat so fast the suit flashed a bio-warning. Drex muted the alert. “Not much we can do now. Just hang on to that energy until it’s time to run.”

  Gajrup shook his head inside the suit helmet, but Drexler couldn’t tell. The suit helmets had immobile necks. Drex only suspected Gajrup was shaking his head by the odd wobble of his shoulders.

  “Gajrup,” Drexler continued, deepening his apparent calm. “We got this. I’ve been in far stickier situations in space. Look up that hill. Have you picked your path yet?”

  “My path?” Gajrup asked.

  “Yes. Plan for the future. I, for one, plan to scramble up the rock face along that line.” and Drexler pointed out his escape route with his right index finger.

  Gajrup considered this for a second, then found his path up the rock face.

  “There,” He said. Looks less steep.

  “Nice,” Drexler said. “I’ll meet you when you get to the top, then.”

  “Almost ready,” Samuel said. “As soon as I start firing, I need you guys to move. Do not hesitate.

  “When we move, they’ll see us,” Gajrup said.

  “Not if I win this bet,” Samuel said. He planned to lay down covering fire with the explosive rounds. The dust those rounds produced, being made of the same magnetic material, would hopefully interfere with the attacker’s detection equipment. The downside was that Samuel carried the same rifle. He wouldn’t be able to see the attackers either. Even now, he lost track of some of them as they entered the shadow of rock outcroppings. From his angle high on the ridge, Samuel could see enough of the clearing to make his cover fire count. He just had to be smart about it.

  “Bet…” Gajrup said. His voice was trembling now.

  “Hang tight,” Samuel said, his voice now nearly a whisper. The soldiers advanced in waves in a classic “move and cover” formation. They formed neat, regular lines as they advanced. In fact, the lines were too neat and regular. Samuel was able to deduce the position of the soldiers he couldn’t see by the ones he could.

  “Now,” Samuel said, and paused.

  For a split second, a moment of numbing calm washed over Drexler. The world took on a pristine clarity on the high-fidelity EV suit viewscreen. For a moment, it seemed like just another spacewalk. Then the shock wave of explosive rounds made the boulder he leaned against push him forward.

  “Run!” He screamed, but Gajrup was already on it. The engineer jumped like a startled housecat at the first impact and was already clawing at the rock face. He progressed upward at a comical pace. Drexler was beside him on his own path and not too far behind.

  The first blast was followed by a rapid series as Samuel laid down automatic fire with the explosive rail rifle rounds. Just as planned, a wall of thick dust plumed up over the clearing and drifted over it. The soldiers kept advancing.

  “I can see them,” Tara said, buried beneath the sand between boulders.

  “How?” Samuel asked with genuine, but discordant curiosity. Even in combat, he was curious about the Insectoids.

  “Vibration,” Tara said simply. Then, to her children, she said in high-frequency tones that the comm did not pick up, “Dewey, cover the Captain and Gajrup. Huey and I will delay these harmful ones.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Dewey said bravely. Tara could tell he was fearful.

  Soon, the first of the security forces reached the boulders by the foot of the rock face. Their heads were covered in baggy hoods, faces covered by featureless, rounded masks. Tara let three of them walk past. Two Reptilians followed those three. When the Reptilians were close enough to touch, Tara sprang up from the ground in a spray of sand. Huey followed.

  Tara used her wings to launch herself bodily at the lead Reptile. Huey did the same. In an instant, both Lizards were down and bled from fatal neck wounds. The slender humanoids were just turning to face the ambush as Tara and Huey turned captured rifles on them. The humanoids fell in a spray of pink blood and pale, red flesh.

  At least one of the dying attackers must have signaled the others because rounds began to scream through the clouds of dust. Samuel was firing randomly now, more to keep the dust clouds going than to hit anyone. But now that the fools were shooting, the rifle scope pointed out to him exactly where they were.

  Of course, the problem with that was that the attackers also knew where Samuel was. He’d been shooting way too long from the same position. Had he been with a group, he would have moved long ago. But if he moved now, nobody else was around to lay down fire.

  Several rounds made urgent knocking sounds against the massive tree trunks that surrounded him. He ignored the wood chips raining down on his helmet. He fired more explosive rounds in the direction of return fire. This time, he knew those rounds paid off.

  At the same time, Tara and Huey took full advantage of the chaos. They flew into the field just below the dust clouds. The dust provided a perfect medium for them to perceive the enemy by the vibrations they made. The fine particles yielded a high resolution to the shapes that Tara and Huey cut down with their stolen rifles.

  The attackers panicked and scattered. As soon as Tara saw this, she turned to fly back toward Drexler and Gajrup, who were half way up the rock face and exposed above the dust clouds.

  “Press the attack!” Samuel bellowed. “Finish them!”

  “Not necessary,” Tara responded. She swooped down to grab another rifle from the dead soldiers they ambushed moments ago. Dewey would need his own weapon as well. “We will cover the retreat from the rock face.”

  Samuel muttered profanity. At least Tara’s move would let him get out of the hot zone. He didn’t want to be in the same spot when those soldiers eventually regrouped, as they would be sure to do with nobody trying to murder them good and proper.

  Gajrup was at the end of his endurance. Drexler lay at the top of the rock face and looked down at the engineer as Gajrup struggled to climb the last dozen meters. He debated on whether to go back down to help him when Dewey burst up out of the dust and attached himself to Gajrup once again like a winged backpack. The tops of Gajrup’s booted feet whacked against a boulder as Dewey snatched him up. By the way the engineer hung mostly limp in the air, Drex could tell he was almost completely exhausted. Drex figured he wasn’t far behind as he stood up and followed the direction of Dewey’s flight.

  Up in the trees further up the ridge, Samuel jum
ped from branch to branch until he found another good sniping spot. When he settled, the first thing he noticed was Drexler, at full height, running into the forest.

  “Stay low, you idiot! Hunker down!” he shouted to his Captain. As if to illustrate Samuel’s point, rifle rounds screamed overhead and shredded the foliage above Drexler’s head. The waste liquid bag in Drexler’s suit was filling quickly.

  “Thanks, Samuel!” Drexler called back after he hit the ground with a whoof. He crawled forward on the ground as Tara and Huey joined Samuel in the trees.

  Tara took a position high to Samuel’s right, and Huey gripped onto a tree trunk much lower. Two of his arms hung on to the tree, and another two braced a rifle against the trunk and took careful aim at the edge of the upper rock face.

  “Huey, looks like you’ve done this before,” Samuel remarked.

  “This is how we hunt took bear back home,” Huey replied.

  “But now we hunt sentient beings,” Tara said. “Much more dangerous and far less noble.”

  “It’s them or us,” Samuel growled.

  “Unfortunate,” Tara replied as she took aim with her own rifle.

  Dewey landed with Gajrup in a thick stand of trees and propped him up against a trunk.

  “I cannot see your face, friend Gajrup. Are you alright?” Dewey passed his hands over Gajrup’s body, feeling for injury. He grew more urgent when Gajrup did not answer. “Gajrup! Are you hurt!” The hands moved frantically. The simulated humanoid voice took on the tones of urgency produced by Dewey’s fear. He’d finally learned to make his translator convey emotion.

  Gajrup snapped-to finally and grabbed one of Dewey’s wrists. “I... I’m OK. Thank you, Dewey. You saved me three times today.”

  Dewey gave a quick, happy shell rattle, then flew off, “Wait here, friend Gajrup.” he said on the wing and flew back to where he last saw his Captain.

  Drexler crawled along the jungle floor as if trying to become part of it. He wished he could burrow down into the topsoil and escape like a worm. He did not like being shot at. People were trying to kill him. Space had been trying to kill him since he was born. That he could handle. This was much different and far more terrifying.