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Planet Patrol: The Interplanetary Age (Star Service Book 1)

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by Charles Lee Jackson II




  Star Service #1

  PLANET PATROL

  The Interplanetary Age

  By Charles Lee Jackson, II

  Futures-Past Editions

  ISBN 9781615089897

  All rights reserved

  Copyright 2017 by CLJII

  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission.

  For information:

  http://FuturesPastEditions.com

  FuturesPast Editions/Super Hero

  A Renaissance E Books publication

  To

  Judd Holdren, Ed Kemmer, and Richard Crane

  And to

  Ronald Davidson, Mike Moser, and Roland Reed

  Dramatis Personae

  HER GRACE ALLESANDRA URSULA PENDRAGON — Space Princess assigned to circuit adjudication duty on HMSS Thetis.

  SKY MARSHAL WILLIAM “WILD BILL” WEBBE — Police authority aboard Thetis.

  CAPTAIN JAMES “JACK” FLYNN — Captain of the Star Service corvette Thetis.

  PATRICK KARROL — Thetis Executive Officer, navigator, and co-pilot.

  DAVE ARMSTRONG — Thetis pilot.

  LIEUTENANT PETER WHITE — Thetis radioman.

  THOMAS GARRISON MORFETT — Listed as Thetis’ Pharmacist’s Mate, but also chief cook and resident brainiac.

  JOHN HALE — Thetis Engineer’s Mate.

  ERNEST SCAMMERA — Thetis Maintenance officer and man of all work.

  The KHADINE — Regent of The Empire in the twenty-second century and supreme authority of Star Service operations.

  COMMANDER ELI WALLACE — Commander-in-chief of Star Service solar-system operations.

  CAPTAIN ALGERNON MORGAS — Most ruthless of the system’s notorious space pirates.

  MIS’ESS ESTHER CABANNE — Multi-millionairess and sharp trader who believes herself above the law – until she meets Sandy Pendragon.

  WALKS WEST — Lakota warrior who foments war with the Federal Government over the disposition of the Dakota Territory.

  JIM EYES-THAT-SHINE — Lakota tribesman and Congressman of the Council of the Hundred Nations, who appeals to Star Service to stop Walks West.

  GEORGE GORDON ZUCCO — Viceroy of Mars.

  and

  HER GRACE, TEMPORAL PRINCESS CHANIN SPANGLE — A woman from the far future on a mission to…

  THE EMPEROR – Charles Lee Jackson, II, central figure of The Emperorverse, smart, swift, capable of amazing feats, all but indestructible, well dressed, and able to charm beautiful women with a single smile, who not only leads the fight for law and justice against all odds but collects the records of his cases and those of his partners to dramatize them for you.

  CONTENTS

  Dramatis Personae

  Preface

  Book One

  SPACE VIRGIN

  Chapter One

  School for Spacemen

  Chapter Two

  A Princess on Board

  Chapter Three

  The Princess and the Pirate

  Chapter Four

  Surface Tension

  Book Two

  SUNSET OR DEATH

  Chapter One

  City in the Dark

  Chapter Two

  City in Trouble

  Chapter Three

  City in Real Trouble

  Book Three

  GHOST DANCE

  Chapter One

  Engineering Feat

  Chapter Two

  Tales of Suspense

  Chapter Three

  Hand of Divinity

  Book Four

  THE MARS 5000

  Chapter One

  The Willing Victim

  Chapter Two

  Ya Takes Yer Chances

  Chapter Three

  Not to the Swiftest

  About the Author

  Publication Credits

  Book One

  SPACE VIRGIN

  Chapter One

  School for Spacemen

  THE OBSIDIAN ENVELOPE fluttered to the stoop, landing unnoticed against the ankle of the woman who had dropped it. All of her attention was focused on the sheet of silver letterhead she'd taken from that envelope.

  She read the letter a second time. It was still addressed to her, Allesandra Pendragon, and still said the same thing:

  The Emperor sends you greetings.

  You have been nominated for and accepted for duty as a Space Princess in the Star Service.

  Please report to the Induction and Training Center at the EnCLave at your earliest convenience.

  It was signed by the chairman of the Interregnum Council, which was nearly as good as being signed by The Emperor himself.

  The Pendragon woman snapped out of her trance and turned to run back inside. She lived in a little bungalow with her mother, and couldn't wait to spread this news.

  IF YOU HAD fallen asleep in Hollywood one night in nineteen forty-eight or so, and not awakened until twenty-one thirteen, you might not have noticed any difference.

  Thanks to a massive, costly, and time-consuming restoration project, the area known since the turn of the millennium as "The EnCLave" had been pushed backward in time to its hey-day as Entertainment Capital of the World. The Walk of Fame, Hollywood and Vine, the Chinese and Egyptian theatres, all were spruced up, and lost structures had been rebuilt using the most modern of technologies to simulate the quaint past. The Hollywood Hotel, Schwab’s Drugstore, the little old house on the boulevard that everyone said was haunted, Wallach’s Music City; these and other echoes of the past had been born again, a living museum of the town’s “golden age”. Hollywood's nickname "Tinseltown" had been long replaced by the name "Glitter City", home of The Empire which had carried the torch lighted by a Los Angeles City Councilman named Woo.

  Like a section of New York City which was now considered the capital of the Earth – the headquarters of the United Nations Organization – the portion of Los Angeles known as Hollywood was the capital of The Empire, an entity that had begun as an entertainment group but which had developed into first a private Justice-enforcement agency and, eventually, because of the world-saving efforts of its director, a virtual government.

  When Earth joined with another world into an interplanetary consortium, it was because of the efforts of The Empire, and, by consent of both worlds, responsibility for governing and policing their combine was entrusted to The Empire, which name was applied to the government, even though no Imperial representatives involved themselves in affairs of state on either planet.

  With the turn into the twenty-second century, Earth colonies were up and running on Mars, around deadly Venus, even on Mercury, and on the asteroid Chiron, where deep-space vessels docked.

  To maintain order and Justice on these worlds, and in the dark void, The Empire had established the Star Service, an interplanetary Justice force.

  And into this organization, Allesandra Pendragon had been invited.

  ON THE EDGE of Griffith Park, north of Franklin Avenue, where Western turns into Los Feliz, is a collection of buildings that has served many purposes. Once a school, for many years home to the American Film Institute, it was now the EnCLave headquarters of Star Service.

  The Pendragon woman had walked up the drive from the street, coming upon the place a little at a time, as it peeked out from behind trees. Straight ahead was the Administration building; to the left and back a ways was the barracks, school, and mess, all housed together. On the right was Blinker Hall, which housed the Star Service signal corps as well as the library.

  From the reception desk, Sandy Pendragon was shown into a
small office.

  A very, very ancient woman greeted her. Though grey and aged, the woman still had a little color in her hair – red – and stood straight and very proud. The woman did not introduce herself, but Sandy, living in the Hollywood area all her life, had heard the rumor that this woman had, in her youth, actually accompanied The Emperor himself when he had personally led the fight for law and order. Though Sandy found the rumor hard to swallow – it would make the woman well over one hundred years old – it fit in with the biggest rumor of the era; namely, that The Emperor – that would be yours truly – was still alive!

  Whoever she was, Sandy found herself liking the woman immediately.

  "Tell me about yourself, Miss Pendragon." Sandy particularly liked that. The woman had pronounced her name correctly: Pen-drag'n, not Pendra-gon, as many people did.

  "You don't already know?" Sandy asked.

  The woman shook her head. "Appointments are made by a complicated process known only to the man who makes the selections. All we get is a name.

  "But, I can assure you," the woman said with a curious smile, "we trust the selector's judgment without reservation. We just want to get to know you ourselves.

  "Please speak freely. Our conversation is being recorded by our intelligence officer, Richmond, but the record is kept confidential, will not be duplicated, and will remain in our files in Blinker Hall next door."

  Sandy could hardly help but believe her. The Empire enjoyed a spotless reputation for trust and integrity which was rapidly approaching its sesquicentenary.

  "Well," she began, "my name is Allesandra Ursula Pendragon. I was born on the twenty-fifth of June, twenty ninety-eight. My family claims descent from Arthur, king of the Britons, the round-table king, but I found out that most of what my grandmother knew about King Arthur was from an old Bing Crosby picture."

  The elderly woman chuckled. Obviously she knew about the film. Now she spoke. "Miss Pendragon is about five feet eleven inches in height, has blue eyes and pale brown hair—"

  "I always call it ‘sandy’ blonde," Sandy said, smiling at the standard pun.

  "—Sandy blonde hair, shoulder length. Fair complexion, good carriage, slim, muscular build. Please go on."

  "What else would you like to know?"

  "What do you like? What's your education?"

  "I'm very big on travel. I spent a year in Europe at University. I hate math, but I'm very good at it. In fact, for some time I've been worried that I'd have to take a computing job. I live with my mother, Gwendolyn Pendragon Winters, on the south side of the EnCLave.

  "I took a first in Liberal Arts, and hold an Associate of Science in Computers. And I'm a bit confused about why I was sent for."

  "Have you ever been off Earth?"

  "Not beyond sub-orbital."

  "Would you like to go?"

  "Until I received the letter, I'd never given it a thought. But the more I think about it, the more intrigued I am."

  The elder woman leaned back and smiled a knowing smile. "He's never wrong, you know.

  "Miss Pendragon, you have been selected," she chose the word carefully, "to join an elite corps of young women. If you accept, you will be created a Noble of The Empire, a Space Princess."

  Sandy goggled. There was no other word for it. She'd heard about Space Princesses, but, like most people, had never met one. The group of a dozen or so women were the eyes, ears, hands, and brains of The Empire in the heavens.

  "But I don't know anything about being a princess," Sandy gasped.

  "Everything you need to know we'll teach you here. You'd receive full training for life in space, and be taught the fine points of administering Imperial Justice."

  "How could I enforce any laws?"

  "Not laws. Justice. And you don't have to. Enforcement is the duty of Sky Marshals; your job is administration. The job is roughly the same as that of United States Attorneys in the Old West, or a military Judge Advocate General.

  "You would be assigned to a Service patrol vessel, riding circuit with a Sky Marshal, adjudicating on our behalf."

  The magnitude of this overwhelmed the girl. After a moment she mustered the wherewithal to point out, "But I have absolutely no background in anything like that."

  "Are you an ethical person?"

  Sandy was puzzled by the question.

  "Are you fair-minded? Do you listen to both sides before making up your mind?"

  "Oh. Well, I like to think so." Her gaze dropped toward her lap, and she added, meekly, "I don't always succeed."

  The other woman was expansive in her pleasant response. "None of us does, sweetie." It was the first bit of familiarity between the two women. It must mean something. "I think you'll work out well."

  "How long would this service last?"

  "Investment of Nobility is for life. But you'd be your own boss. Except when on an active case, you could go anywhere you wanted. You wouldn't be required to sit for The Empire."

  "Then why would I?"

  "It is expected that you will enjoy and want to do the work. So far, everyone has."

  "Huh," Sandy muttered. "It sounds interesting. But my mother is kind of counting on me to help her out."

  "You'd be on salary, and receive a separation bonus – that is, in this case, a bonus in compensation for your separation from your family. Your mother could receive that money, ten thousand silver Sovereigns, to pay for household help. And you could visit her a couple of times a year, I'm sure. It wouldn't be much different than if you lived in a faraway city."

  Sandy nodded thoughtfully. "If I say ‘yes’, to what am I committed?"

  "Six weeks of school. We trust in your discretion if you leave the program after that.

  "Of course, your bonus wouldn't be paid until lift-off into space," the elder woman finished. "What do you say?"

  Sandy shrugged a "what else". "I say, ‘Yes’."

  THOSE NEXT SIX weeks were comparatively grueling for the Pendragon girl. Days and nights of instruction in Justice and its administration, a language course (which proved easy: Lingua Astra turned out to be English, as spoken during the second quarter of the twentieth century which was fairly common parlance around The EnCLave; she needed only to learn a few of the more obscure terms), and astrography and history.

  These last two items turned out to be chock-full of new information for the young woman.

  Earth had encountered people from other worlds during the twentieth century, when some of the last few inhabitants of Mars arrived to subjugate our world. Journeying from a planet incapable of supporting life, the Martians hoped to migrate to earth before their home lost its meager life-sustaining capability. They failed.

  A generation later, beings from a planet known as "Randnar", a world far removed across the Milky Way, turned up. On their heels came the non-humanoid inhabitants of Sangar. The people of these two worlds were at war, the Thuleans of Randnar for conquest, the Sangans to stop their adversaries’ unholy war on the universe.

  It was these Sangans, amorphic creatures evolved beyond articulated physical structures on a light-gravity world, who became the far end of the axis that fostered The Empire as a galactic force.

  In all the universe, only three other native sentient life-forms had been found. Sentience had proved to be a far more rare commodity in the cosmos than Science Fiction would have had it, and yet less rare than theology wished it.

  Governments and private corporations had made the jump off Earth, and terra-formed areas (all regulated to no more than five percent of the surface) blossomed on Mars, and, just recently, a marvelous city had been inaugurated on Mercury. Early concerns about upsetting or preventing local ecology had been dampened by the discovery that those worlds had no hope of growing life as we knew it.

  On the asteroid Chiron had been built a veritable city in space, a world in miniature that doubled as Star Service headquarters and a harbor for traffic from deep space. It fact, the place had been dubbed, "Earth Harbor".

  Traffic bey
ond Neptune was infrequent, mostly shipping between Earth and Sangar; but exploratory vessels headed out from time to time. One major group had left recently on a long-range trip to explore the planetary system discovered around Aldebaran, where, a hundred years ago, the great red giant had undergone a bizarre and presumably impossible reversal of fortune and was now settling down as a Sol-type star. Scientists hoped to find out what was going on, though Sandy's instructor hinted at Imperial involvement in the phenomenon.

  SANDY GOT A crash – or perhaps that's not the best word to use – course in space travel. Most Service ships used Conestoga drives with Dillingham Superchargers to provide propulsion, and Thanhouser Turbines, energized by a substance called "perpetroleum", to spin a rotor that created an electromagnetic field helping to protect space travelers from the radio-active ravages of space. Trans-orbittal shuttles and landing craft were also equipped with CL-arium gravity pads to avoid ecological pollution.

  Deep Space (that is, trans-Neptunian) vessels utilized a Sangan improvement on a Thulean "Star Drive", which, it was said, which tapped the power trapped by black holes.

  Sandy’s last week was devoted to learning about her personal equipment and assignment. Though she had shared class time with a dozen others, this last week found her alone with an unfamiliar teacher.

  "My name is Alison Brenner," the new instructor introduced herself. "My family has been with the Empire since the very beginning. So don't think I'm impressed by your impending nobility."

  Sandy was a little stunned at her blunt attitude. So she was extra quiet and attentive.

  The Brenner woman pointed to a trim uniform, laid out on a cold white slab. The outfit was a short-skirted dress, silver-grey in color, with one long sleeve and a cutaway section at the right shoulder. A black mesh blouse was lying under the dress, obviously to cover the right shoulder and arm. The high-collared neck featured a small emblem communicator in the figure of a silver rose.

 

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