Solomon Family Warriors II

by Robert H. Cherny

  She screamed at him. He rested floating above the floor exhausted. A small trickle of blood flowed from his eyelid and drifted off as tiny red droplets floating in the air.

  He waited for her to calm down. “Just because I don’t love you doesn’t mean that nobody will. If you promise not to hurt me, I will let you down.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You fought well. That’s what happens.”

  “If we were at a bar and someone attacked you, would you want me fighting beside you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Am I as good as one of those Marines?”

  “Nobody other than a Marine is that good. I’m not that good, and I will be just as happy to not fight you again. Exercise is one thing, but this was something else.”

  “You can let me down now.”

  Greg rolled up and floated in her direction. He detached her from the wall.

  “Hold me,” she said.

  “No tricks?”

  “No tricks.”

  She put her head on his shoulder and started to cry. “I wanted you to love me. I’m sorry.”

  “Someone will. I know it. Someone will soon.”

  Later that day, Helen rode down on the cargo tug. Brownie and Sam returned to the ship. Helen must have informed them of what had transpired or maybe they figured it out on their own, but neither Brownie nor Sam made any comments about Greg’s clearly visible bruises or his obvious pain as he moved. For the next week, they performed badly needed maintenance on the ship’s systems. The life support systems, especially, had been taxed during the trip. Filters needed to be changed, pumps lubricated and accumulators needed to be emptied. When they were finished, the ship was ready for travel again. Greg was thrilled with the work the two tiny women had done. At the end of the week, they returned to the surface and left him alone. He recalled the tug to the ship and relaxed in the quiet of his old quarters. Both he and his talking mechanical companion needed some time to finish healing from the voyage.

  Even though Greg had yet to make peace with the fact that he could not return to Earth, he suspected that he would be making supply runs with the ship to places where a fugitive could go without being asked too many questions. He already knew where many of those places were. Pirates frequented these same places to sell their wares. He had hunted in these areas with great success. One of these places hosted an entertainment establishment that he and Lt. Andersen routinely used as their rendezvous point. Perhaps it would be a good idea to leave him a message there letting him know he was alive and healthy, or perhaps not.

  HOMESTEAD - CHAPTER EIGHT

  WHEN GREG RETURNED to the surface after three weeks on his ship, he was amazed at the speed of the progress they had made. Cyrus Johnson had packed an entire woodworking shop worth of tools. How he had crammed all that into his container amazed even Doug. Cyrus, Doug, Diane and Mary were industriously building a barn for the cattle. The evenings were growing cooler and they suspected the animals would be better off in a barn than out in the weather. If they were going to milk any of the cows, they would need to contain them in one place.

  Greg marveled at their ingenuity. The roof and sides of the barn were made out of the sides of the containers the animals had been delivered in. A row of freshly felled tree trunks held up the center ridge line. Pieces from the stalls inside the containers had been salvaged to use in the barn.

  Timmy Willis had trained several of the horses for riding. He claimed that training wild horses was easier than rodeo riding. He brought his prize rodeo saddle with him, but he was the only one who had one. Since the others did not have saddles, they rode bareback with rope halters Timmy made by sacrificing his good calf roping rope. Timmy, Orville and Fred developed a plow the horses could pull, and they expanded Dr. Harrison’s garden. As long as they kept the horses fed with copious quantities of thawed carrots and dried apples and gave them lots of attention, the horses appeared to be content to do whatever was asked of them.

  Mark and Gwen figured out how to catch fish in the lake. Dr. Turner determined that they were safe to eat.

  What amazed Greg the most was the team working on the shuttles. It had occurred to them that if they were to survive economically, assuming the Swordsmen did not get them first, they would have to have a product to export. It would not make much difference what that product was if they had no way to export it. The shuttles needed to fly again to be able to transport whatever they decided to export to market. It also occurred to them that farming the way they were would be acceptable for subsistence, but if the community grew as they hoped it would, they would need tractors and other farm equipment that they could not build on their own. David claimed to be good with metal, but even he could not build a farm tractor from scratch. Buying tractors required money which required an export product which required transportation.

  They had repaired the flotation gear from both shuttles and had floated Katherine’s ship. The salt water was beginning to etch some of the more sensitive metal pieces of the under carriage, and David was concerned he would not be able to repair it with the materials at hand.

  David, Darrell and Jonathan had removed the wiring and motors from the exercise equipment in the animals’ containers and attached them to the shuttle’s drop down loading door. They had equipped each motor with a paddle made out of parts from the exercise equipment and powered the whole mess from the shuttle’s electrical system. The motors and paddles were enough to propel the shuttle through the water and upstream at about a kilometer a day. To steer the assemblage they mounted motors on the trailing edge of the cargo ramp to push to one side or the other and change the direction of travel. In this manner they had floated the shuttle as close to the lake shore as they could. During the journey up river, the ship’s reactor separated the local water into hydrogen and oxygen and compressed the gases into liquids as it was designed to do. This was the normal method of refueling a shuttle on those moons where ice was available. For the last part of the trip, they laid out a “highway” of metal panels taken from the containers and fired the shuttle’s rocket engines to give it the last push up a ramp they had dug into the lake’s edge and lined with container sides. Katherine described this last step as one of the most frightening things she had ever done.

  Greg was astounded to see the shuttle in all its hugeness standing quietly near the settlement with horses calmly grazing around it.

  Once having secured Katherine’s shuttle, they moved on to Blondie’s. They had retrieved most of the pieces of Blondie’s sheered off landing gear from the water and in the process had discovered an abundance of sea life. The seas appeared to have been untouched by whatever killed the land animals. Most of the sea life was decidedly hostile and aggressive. Helen was part of the recovery crew. Her strength and agility had saved more than one of them from becoming lunch for whatever was in the water. Several team members credited her with saving their lives.

  They had emptied Blondie’s shuttle as much as they could to reduce the weight, but it was still too heavy to move. When Greg arrived, they had reached an impasse. Reluctant to give up, they could determine no way to pull the ship off the beach or elevate it enough to repair the gear. Even if they could pull Blondie’s ship out of the sand, they had still not resolved the issue of how to get Katherine’s into the air again without its wings or a runway.

  Given the creativity with which the settlers had used the empty containers, Greg began retrieving empty containers he had dropped around the planet on previous trips. He had gathered about a third of them when Myra landed.

  “How did your foray into civilization go?” Greg asked.

  “I reported to the Space Force that I was returning to patrol duty and got attacked by pirates.”

  “Just like the good old days,” Greg quipped.

  “Someone knew where I would report in and they were waiting for me. The only reason I escaped was I hyper jumped as soon as they appro
ached.”

  “They knew you were coming, and now they know where you went,” Greg said coldly.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You told the Space Force what sector you would be patrolling, and there are not a lot of habitable planets in this sector. It is only a matter of time before they find us. Oh, did you take a straight line or an elliptical path to get here?”

  “Straight line. Why?”

  Greg’s communicator buzzed for his attention. When he acknowledged the call, the ship’s computer said, “Intruders entering system.”

  “Identify,” Greg responded.

  “Three vessels. Transponders inactive, identification impossible.”

  “Pirates,” Greg said flatly. “Myra, move your ship to the valley on the other side of this rise.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s you they want. Stay in your ship and play dumb. Do not answer any hails including from me. I need supplies from my ship. When I get back, have Helen, Blondie and Katherine meet me on the top of that ridge. Everyone else into the forest.” Greg dashed for his tug and left.

  The settlers took cover in the woods, and Myra moved her ship. The pirates orbited the planet several times. Greg gathered what he needed for the upcoming confrontation. When the pirates’ orbit took them to the far side of the planet, he descended to the surface. Before he left, he instructed his cargo ship to hide among the asteroids. He parked the tug next to Katherine’s shuttle. He carried a large canvas bag over his shoulder as he sprinted for the ridge.

  The three women were waiting for him. “Now what do we do?” Katherine asked.

  “We wait,” Greg replied. He turned to Helen, “We go into this fight together, side by side. We understand each other’s moves. We need to think ahead of each other. If we pay attention, we should both come out alive. Got it?”

  She smiled a wide smile and said, “Hug for luck?”

  He smiled back and said, “Hug for luck!”

  A large ship descended to the flat area adjacent to Myra’s ship. It bristled with sensors and weapons pods.

  Greg whistled slowly and softly said, “Pay dirt! First time out! Saturn Industries Destroyer Type G! Nice!” He put his finger to his lips for silence and crawled through the tall grass toward the ship. He motioned the women to follow. On their bellies, combat style, they slithered through the grasses. Greg and Helen were adept at this and were barely visible as they approached the spot Greg had picked for his destination. Katherine and Blondie gamely tried to keep up but arrived at Greg’s rendezvous long after Greg and Helen. They crawled through the grass to within fifty meters of the ship and lay on the ground behind a low rise that kept them hidden from view. Myra’s ship was to their right, and the pirate ship was to their left. The pirate ship’s hatch opened. Two men descended to the ground carrying a white flag. Myra opened her hatch and descended to the ground.

  “Stupid, stupid,” Greg said softly.

  Helen’s eyebrows rose in a question Greg did not answer.

  Two more men descended from the pirate ship.

  “Well, hello there!” Greg murmured, grinning.

  Myra was talking to the first two men when the other two joined them. Greg could not hear the words, but he had a pretty good idea what was going on. Myra’s ship was a valuable prize, but Myra was a more valuable prize if she was captured alive. Greg pulled two vintage infantry rifles out of the bag. He affixed the bayonets and gave one to Blondie and one to Katherine. “Do you know how to use these?” he asked.

  “No,” they replied together.

  “If things get ugly, point this end at them and pull this part back. Make sure this part is resting against your shoulder. It will kick, so be careful. If we get to hand-to-hand, this part should be obvious.” He pointed to the bayonet.

  Blondie and Katherine nodded their understanding.

  Greg took Helen’s hand. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  He pulled a pistol out of the bag. “Do you know how to use this?” he whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Let’s go.” Greg and Helen stood up together as nonchalantly as if they were lovers out for an afternoon stroll in the park. Blondie and Katherine slithered to the edge of the rise and pointed the rifles at the pirates as if they knew what they were doing. Two more people descended from the pirate ship. “Six out and two to go,” Greg whispered as they strolled toward the gathering crowd.

  “See the one in the middle with the receding hairline?” Greg whispered. “He’s mine. Don’t mess with him. You can have any of the others you like.”

  “Aye, Aye Sir!” Helen whispered back, her voice trembling with excitement.

  They were about twenty meters away when the one with the receding hairline suddenly grabbed Myra, spun her around and put a pistol to her head. He turned to face Greg. “Not a step further Solomon or your cute little friend dies.”

  Greg shook his head slowly as if in disbelief as he continued to walk forward.

  “Ah Pierre!” Greg waved his right arm around in a parody of a Frenchman’s manner of speaking.

  “Ho, Ho! So melodramatic. How shall I say it, so French? Pierre, will you never learn when you are outnumbered? I have a small army ready to fire when I give the signal.”

  Greg’s left hand firmly gripped Helen’s hand holding the hidden pistol. They continued to stroll forward. Helen attentively scanned the group so she could spot who made the first move.

  “Solomon, I’m warning you.”

  “Oh ho, Pierre, did you not get enough of this leettle one when she was but a baby.”

  Greg continued his parody of the French accent. “I heard you liked leettle girls. This was a very leettle girl even when she grew up. Did that make you feel like a beeg man! I heard you like little boys! Does your crew know that? Do they know their leader is a pederast?”

  The pirates looked at their leader in confusion. Was their closely held secret public knowledge? In fact, that was one of the few pieces of information about Pierre the intelligence community was confident they had right. Pierre LaMarche was a convicted sex offender who had served jail time and been released. Even if the Swordsman murderous campaign against sex offenders had not been so thorough, so many communities had passed laws restricting where criminals released from prison could live that someone like Pierre had few options except to leave Earth and try to survive by engaging in piracy provided the Swordsmen did not kill him on the way to the spaceport. Earth’s morgues did a steady business in sex offenders released from prison who were brutally killed before they could get to the nearest port.

  “Stop or I shoot her,” Pierre warned.

  Greg dropped Helen’s hand leaving her with the pistol and spun in place chanting, “Pierre likes babies. Pierre likes babies.”

  Each spin took him closer to Pierre. On his third spin he dropped the 38 from his arm holster into his hand, raised it and fired directly between Pierre’s eyes. Blood and brains sprayed out the back of Pierre’s head.

  Greg continued his spin to the person standing next to Pierre, but the man ducked, and the shot missed. Helen got one shot off before her gun was knocked from her hand. That shot passed through the chest of the man closest to her mortally wounding him. Myra had never learned hand-to-hand combat in spite of her military training. She rolled away and retrieved one of the fallen pistols. When one of the pirates came after her, she neatly put a bullet in his face. Greg killed one of the pirates barehanded and Helen killed one with a kick to the throat.

  Katherine and Blondie arrived and wrestled the remaining pirate to the ground.

  Greg heard a whining noise behind him. “Helen! The ship!”

  Picking up their pistols on the way, they raced to the ship entering the hatch as it started to close. Rapidly climbing to the flight deck, they found two young women barely out of their teens at the controls initiating lift off procedures. Greg and Helen put a pistol to each of the girls’ heads.

  “Stand down!” Greg ordered.
/>   “Intruder on the flight deck! Initiating defense procedures.” The ship’s automated defense systems screamed.

  “Stand down and you live,” Greg threatened.

  One of the women keyed the proper code at her workstation.

  The sirens and flashing lights ceased. The ship fell eerily quiet.

  “Send a distress signal. You have been boarded and need help,” Greg said. “Do not offer details. You do this right and you live. Do it wrong and you die.”

  The woman slowly reached for the communicator. “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday! We have been boarded. We need help. Mayday, Mayday.”

  “Everyone out!” Greg commanded.

  By the time Greg and Helen returned outside the ship, the rest of the settlers had gathered at the battle scene. Blondie and Katherine were telling everyone what had happened. The lone male prisoner was tied like a calf in a rodeo thanks to Timmy who had no doubt tied many calves at many rodeos.

  They made no attempt to tie the two female prisoners who eyed the crowd with terror.

  “What do we do with them?” Dr. Miller asked.

  “We keep them,” Greg answered. “We can’t let them go. They make their lives here.”

  Greg looked at the two frightened women. “There is no reason to make them prisoners or slaves. After being defeated in battle, no pirate will trust them on his ship. It’s bad luck.” He looked at them again. “You can’t go back can you?”

  They looked down and shook their heads.

  “Dr. Miller, will you and Gloria see that these young ladies are taken to safety and given a proper meal. I will debrief them later.”

  Helen looked at the man tied on the ground. “Can I have him?”

  Greg looked around for reactions. “After Dr. Miller and Gloria get him fed and I debrief him, yes. But now, I expect visitors, and I need your help.”