“Yeah … well I’ve been called worse, sweetheart.”
* * *
The T5’s cockpit, with its myriad of glowing dials and indicators, was just as impressive inside as it was outside—a very expensive spacecraft. And Larz certainly didn’t forego adding the more luxurious options. Gallic sat down in the pilot’s seat and felt it automatically adjust to his girth.
He had never sat in anything so comfortable. A far cry from the rock-hard cushions found back on the Hound. Spinning the seat around, he studied the craft’s warm and inviting cabin. Padded leather was everywhere—cushy wrap-around leather chairs and sectional couches. Inset strips of decorative wood—perhaps walnut—accented the padded interior sides and overhead bulkheads.
He swiveled his chair back to face the business at hand. Firing up the 5T’s propulsion system, Gallic took the controls in his hands and lifted off. Thirty feet above the landing lot, he cranked the controls hard left, and accelerated fast, leaving Renegade’s Haven, the sprawling pastureland, and the sporadic clusters of cattle behind.
At a quarter-mile out, Gallic reached into his inside coat pocket and found the small garage door-like opener. He pressed the button and the rear hatch on the Hound began to open up. Light then peeked out through the quickly expanding gap around the hatch. He slowed the 5T and waited for the hatch, which did double-duty as both hatch and gangway, to descend all the way until it was angled downward. He goosed the 5T, piloting her directly into the Hound’s massive hold, large enough to transport five old 747 jetliners stacked atop one another.
It took another five minutes to carefully strap and secure the 5T down onto the deck. Any damage incurred now would come right off the top of his repo fees. Once satisfied, he initiated closing up the hold’s rear hatch. A handful of other vehicles were there, all strapped into place. Everything looked to be in order.
By the time he crossed the hold to the entranceway to the rear airlock, he heard the familiar pressurized phunk sound, as the massive hatch was seated into its surrounding cowling. Once through the airlock, Gallic headed up the ship’s internal stairway, which led up to the second level.
* * *
The top level of the Hound looked more like an open, New York City loft build-out than it did the top deck of a working spacecraft. Fifty-five feet wide by fifty-nine feet long, it pretty much was a big square. Even while the huge compartment certainly looked industrial, there was something strangely inviting about the space. Perhaps due to the wide-planked timber decking, or the soft indirect lighting, generated from large can lights, fifteen feet overhead; or perhaps the intermixing of home furnishings—Navaho throw rugs draped over stuffed, worn, leather couches, and a set of multi-colored glass Tiffany lamps. Or maybe it was the long observation windows, installed on opposing bulkheads, which provided high-up views to the now dark landscape below.
Gallic moved all the way through the sectionalized space to a bank of forward-facing windows, where two rotating seats, and a waist-level semicircle-shaped console were placed. The paint was both dinged and scratched. Not really a bridge—nothing that elaborate—but not really a cockpit either. More serious than that, it was simply the command center. As he approached, a projected holographic display came alive on his right. Nearly as high in height as him, the display was in the process of updating his weekly job log. He noticed the latest repo job: Vehicle: Hausenbach L35T, Owner: Mr. Larz Cugan, Current Standing: impounded/transferring, Destination: Dealer/Bantum Exotic Starcrafts. Gallic traced with his index finger the other open work repo orders. There were three more that would require his attention over the next day or two.
A reminder window popped into view: You have two vid-messages! Both messages are tagged high priority.
Gallic, after taking a seat, addressed the Hound’s AI, saying out loud, “Go ahead and play the first one.”
A blue-tinted, life-sized holographic image came to life. A short, bald-headed man, in a wrinkled Hawaiian shirt, looked back at Gallic. One of Gallic’s past associates—Polly Gant—a less than scrupulous bail bondsman that he tended to avoid unless there was absolutely no other work at hand. Polly smiled. “Hey, Galaxy Man … Call me. I’ve a special project for you. It’s perfect for someone with your … capabilities. Time-sensitive, so don’t—”
Gallic said, “Skip message … go to next.”
Up on the projected display was an older black man, dressed in a smart-fitting, navy blue uniform. His face was heavily lined; filled with more age spots than Gallic remembered him having. His hair, still mostly black, was peppered with more white, as was his immaculately trimmed goatee. It was Chief Superintendent Bernard Danbury, who—three and a half years ago—was his boss, friend and mentor. Gallic resisted the oncoming flood of memories—like snakes—trying to twist and wiggle their way into his consciousness.
Danbury said, “Hello, John. I hope this message finds you in good health.”
Gallic said, “Pause message.” He stared at the frozen-in-time holographic image. He’d worked for the Superintendent for close to a decade; had risen quickly within the Territorial Police Department, Spatial District 22. As Chief Inspector, he reported directly to this man. He left the position soon after the murders. Murders never solved that he hadn’t been allowed to have any involvement with. John closed his eyes and fought to keep the snakes at bay. Nothing was more important than finding the ones responsible for the murders of the young, beautiful twenty-eight-year-old woman, and her equally beautiful three-year-old daughter. John Gallic’s wife and daughter. His life, as he knew it, ended the day the two were taken from him. Now, he merely survived, continuing to do on his own what he wasn’t permitted to do as a Chief Inspector for the Territorial Police Department, Spatial District 22. Since he was both husband and father of the homicide victims, he wasn’t allowed direct involvement in the case. A conflict of interest. The grisly crime was front-page news for weeks as the investigation proceeded in earnest. All had good intentions, overtime approved for three full-time investigators. But, as things sometimes happened, potential leads hit dead ends. Promising prospects dried up. Official personnel and resources, eventually, assigned to other cases. Too many new crimes capturing the media headlines. But that hadn’t stopped Gallic. For months, his friend Chief Superintendent Bernard Danbury turned a blind eye to Gallic’s growing number of sick days—days spent on a private crusade to find the killer, or killers, of Claire and Mandy.
Ultimately, he was forced to resign, and it was for the best. Now, some three-plus years later, Gallic—in his off time—continued the pursuit. Seeking to find the one who’d ruined everything, stolen his life.
The life insurance policy hadn’t been much, but he had some savings. Financing a high-interest loan, he purchased a wrecked Hewley-Jawbone carrier for pennies on the dollar—the Hound. It took him over a year to make the ship space-worthy.
With the snakes now somewhat at bay, Gallic said, “Continue message.”
“John … I wanted to be the first one to tell you. There’s been a … development in your wife and daughter’s case. We have a strong lead.”
There’s more to come with Galaxy Man … coming soon.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am ever grateful for the ongoing fan support I receive for all my books. This latest book, my fifteenth—Space Chase—Star Watch, Book 5—came about through the combined contributions of numerous others. First, I’d like to thank my wife, Kim, for her never-ending love and support. She helps make this journey rich and so very worthwhile. I’d also like to thank my mother, Lura Genz, for her tireless work as my creative editor and a staunch cheerleader of my writing. I’d like to thank Mia Manns, for her phenomenal line and developmental editing … she is an incredible resource and friend. A special ‘thank you’ go
es out to L.J. Ganser, who produces the audiobook versions of my books. Anyone looking for a truly immersive—not to forget ‘fun’—reading experience, with all his wonderful character voices, will have to try the audiobook version. I’d also like to thank those in my writer’s MeetUp groups, who, bringing fresh ideas and perspective to my creative output, elevate my writing as a whole. Others who provided fantastic support include: Lura and James Fischer, Sue Parr, Stuart Church, Brad Leppla, Eric Sundius, and Chris DeRrick.
Other books by MWM
In order of publication:
Scrapyard Ship (Scrapyard Ship series, Book 1)
HAB 12 (Scrapyard Ship series, Book 2)
Space Vengeance (Scrapyard Ship series, Book 3)
Realms of Time (Scrapyard Ship series, Book 4)
Craing Dominion (Scrapyard Ship series, Book 5)
The Great Space (Scrapyard Ship series, Book 6)
Call To Battle (Scrapyard Ship series, Book 7)
Mad Powers (Tapped In series, Book 1)
Lone Star Renegades (Lone Star Renegades series, Book 1)
Star Watch (Star Watch series, Book 1)
Ricket (Star Watch series, Book 2)
Deadly Powers (Tapped In series, Book 2)
Boomer (Star Watch series, Book 3)
Glory for Sea and Space (Star Watch series, Book 4)
Space Chase (Star Watch series, Book 5)
Space Chase (Star Watch Book 5) Page 25
