She slowed the Stellar as a familiar landscape came into view, and smiled on seeing the sprawling scrapyard—and the adjacent modern ranch-style home her mother had built. It replaced the old rickety original home that her Great Grandpa Gus once owned, which was obliterated when a gargantuan Bin Lift craft dropped down from the sky, falling on top of it. She pondered if the scrapyard was her real home. Or was Loma City—back on Harpaign—her real home? Maybe her first real home was on The Lilly? Feeling somewhat nostalgic, Boomer realized how much she missed that long-gone ship. “I just need to find a place to set down,” she muttered to no one in particular.
Chapter 13
After circling the property several times, Boomer ended up setting the Stellar down on the front driveway. The ship’s aft end extended out somewhat into the street beyond, but she felt confident there was room enough for cars to get by.
She grabbed for her satchel with the loosely attached enhancement shield and slung it over one shoulder. Then, after giving the ship’s bridge a last check, she headed out. Not wanting to hassle with the vessel’s ramp, she used the starboard-side exit hatch to leave the craft. After re-securing the hatch into place, she scurried across the wing.
A loud car horn blared somewhere behind her. Startled, she peered over the top of the ship and saw an old Subaru idling there. An elderly lady took a drag on a cigarette and then flicked the butt into the middle of the street.
“Go around … there’s plenty of room,” Boomer said, making an exasperated face at her.
The lady flipped her the bird, but found a way to maneuver around the Stellar’s ample backside.
Boomer hurried back down the downward-sloping wing—then jumped over the adjacent fifteen-foot-high chain link fence that encompassed the entire scrapyard property. She landed on the ground with the weight of a feather. Utilizing her Kahill Callan abilities had long ago become a totally unconscious act. Off to her left, the house looked all buttoned up. Shades were drawn over floor-to-ceiling glass windows that spanned the entire back of the house. The pool cover, she noticed, was still in place.
Quickly moving along the cement pathway, Boomer bypassed rusted automobiles—some older than her, though most were even older than her grandfather.
About to pick up her pace, she suddenly slowed, spotting a nearby stack of hubcaps, which had long since lost their luster. It was right over there. Where she’d once died when shot in the heart. She smiled to herself. “Poor Ricket … I know you didn’t mean it.” She continued moving ahead, toward the faded-yellow school bus—its roof peeking above all the wreckage near it. Again, she slowed. “Someone’s been busy around here,” she said aloud. A ginormous forklift, the same color as the bus, held a rusted, mid-century Buick in its clutches. Perched precariously high in the air, two long metal forks were speared through both front and rear passenger windows. The car looked to be suspended in some kind of final, agonizing death throe. The area had been cleared—cars spread far away from one another. To others, it would simply seem a little housekeeping had gone on at the scrapyard, but Boomer knew that was where the lift was hidden. Her breath caught in her chest. Had something happened down below? Had the cavern collapsed?
Boomer ran to the old bus, found the button hidden in the wheel well and slapped at it probably harder than necessary. Once the double doors opened, she leapt up the steps to the top platform. Like it was yesterday, she manipulated the controls and got the lift moving. The platform beneath her shook and shuddered; though, to her relief, she found it slowly descending.
It had always been rather dark and creepy, but Boomer remembered the roughly excavated shaft being better lit than it was now. The dirt walls around her were, primarily, covered in old hubcaps, license plates, and car doors off varying models. All in all, a metal tapestry of fading primary colors. Even before the lift entirely slowed and jolted to a stop, she was off and running down the long, winding tunnel. Boomer didn’t like not knowing if her family was okay. Why did I wait so long to come home? The final curve lay just ahead and she wondered what she would do if she found the dried-up aquifer empty of life. But then she saw it—matte black and smooth as glass—the Parcical! She slowed, then thanked her lucky stars she’d found them. Seeing the sophisticated, albeit oddly shaped, craft—she wondered if she’d ever actually seen it here before. Approximately the same length as The Lilly, and the Jumelle, the Parcical was also several decks taller. As Boomer approached, she gazed above it to the cavern ceiling. There was still some space—but not much. A big ship.
Startled, she came to an abrupt stop. “Who are you?” she asked—not happy that she hadn’t detected his presence immediately. She was better than that. Had trained for years to sense the proximity of others around her. She eyed the man standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, and a bemused expression on his smug face. She supposed he was somewhat handsome—in a lanky, geeky, sort of way.
“I’m Ryan.”
“Yeah … well what are you doing down here?”
“Waiting for you.”
“What does that mean … waiting for me? You’ve nothing better to do than wait around for someone to wander into this cavern?”
“Uh … no. That would be stupid. Your father sent me down here to greet you. The Stellar was picked up on our sensors as soon as you reached upper orbit.”
“So where is he?”
“He’s busy. He sent me.”
“He’s too busy to come greet his daughter? One he hasn’t seen in … like months … maybe a year?”
Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t want to get into the family’s personal business. He wanted me to tell you he’s looking for your brother.”
“My brother’s here? You could have started with that. Michael is here?”
“Well … he’s lost. He and my robot.”
Boomer just stared at him. “You know, I’ve only known you for a few seconds, but I have to tell you, you’re about as annoying a person as I’ve ever met.”
He smiled. “I have that effect on people … mostly females. I think you and I have met before … like maybe we’re related … I can’t really remember how, though.”
“Ugh … wait … you’re Ryan?”
“I already told you that.”
“No. You’re Ryan … um … Ryan Chase.”
His smile faded some.
“I talked to your girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Wendy something … somebody … she’s a CF driver.”
“Oh yeah … Wendy … she and I broke up.”
“I don’t care about that. I’m just telling you, I know who you are.” Boomer quickly continued forward, toward the extended rear gangway, without giving him another look. Ryan, following behind her, hurried to catch up.
“You said my brother is lost. Is it serious? Or more like he’s hiding under a bed somewhere, just playing games?”
“Serious enough that the AI has no clue where they went. Both Michael and Two-ton … my robot.”
“Your robot?”
“That’s right.”
“You don’t think that’s a little … I don’t know … weird?”
“What?”
“That a grown man like you has a personal robot. Makes it sound like you have a traveling nanny.”
He laughed out loud at that. “It’s not like I have a choice in the matter. We, it and I, share a peculiar relationship. At one time, I was best friends with the AI’s human creator. My friend was killed, but not before he’d left me his amazing AI that’s now walking around in a Tromian robot body.”
“Just order it to back off. It’s only a damn robot.”
Ryan shrugged, not replying.
Again annoyed with him, she asked, “Just tell me, where’s my father now? I’m worried about my brother. Even if you’re not.”
“I didn’t say I wasn’t … Look, I can show you where …” he started to say.
“That’s okay. I can assure you, I know this ship better than you
. I don’t need a chaperone.”
“He’s in the Zoo. That’s where Michael and Two-ton were last detected.”
“Thanks.” Boomer stepped up her pace, hurrying past Ryan.
“Oh … and you can’t use the DeckPorts,” Ryan called after her.
* * *
Earlier, Jason asked Ricket and Bristol to hold up doing further work on their information cyclone model to help out in the Zoo. Now, standing together by a habitat, Bristol asked, “Are you sure they’re in this one? Why not where the drog lives … HAB 439?”
“I checked in there. Then I sent the fetch-it drone in to survey the entire habitat. They’re not in there,” Jason said. He pointed to the portal window of HAB 311. “Right here. This is where the AI says they were last seen standing, so just get the portal open so I can take a look inside.”
Ricket, standing at the control panel, inhaled slowly, then exhaled with an audible sigh.
“What is it?”
“Captain, this may sound strange, but I do not believe anyone has entered this particular habitat before, at least, not before today. The AI confirms it was opened four hours and six minutes ago … for approximately three minutes. I too believe Michael and the robot are within this habitat. The problem is, I do not, nor does the AI, have the entry code for this portal.”
“How is that possible?”
“This particular habitat is quite different from the others.”
Jason felt his blood pressure rising, so he mentally forced himself to relax. “The robot is smart … very smart. Correct?”
“That is correct, Captain,” Ricket said.
“So maybe it … figured out the code. I’m not saying the thing is smarter than you, but maybe it got lucky.”
Ricket nodded—seeming to not take the suggestion personally. After considering Jason’s remarks, he said, “There are ten thousand possible combinations. It would take days to try each and every one of them.” Ricket suddenly looked up, like he’d just thought of something. “If it was Michael … who had come up with the code, what do you think it would be?”
“Michael?” Jason asked.
Ricket nodded his head, just as Bristol wandered over, wearing a frown.
A distant voice said, “Why not try the first four symbol keys … consecutively?”
Jason spun around to see Boomer, now heading down the corridor toward them. She was a sight for sore eyes. Older, nineteen now, and—like her sister—beautiful, but in a different way than Mollie. Boomer’s young life, already full of trying experiences, had the scars and weariness in her eyes to show for it. She was wearing her Earth clothes—oversized tan pants and a blue hoodie—instead of her usual long Kahill Callan robes. She carried a dark-tan leather satchel, draped over one shoulder, with her enhancement shield dangling from a hide strap.
“Hi Dad … what’s happening?”
Jason hurried to her—pulling her into a tight bear hug.
Dramatically, she made a choking sound. “Dad … I can’t breathe!”
He released her, keeping ahold of her shoulders at arm’s length. “It’s really great to see you, kiddo … really great!”
“It’s great to see you too, Dad. I missed you. I missed all of you,” she said, catching Ricket’s eye and smiling. “Michael’s here … he’s on board? I heard you’ve already lost him.”
“Lost maybe over-stating it … remember, this is Michael we’re talking about. We’re just making sure he hasn’t ventured off ship … You going to stick around for a while?” Jason asked.
“Yeah … I need to be around my own people for a time.”
Bristol said, “Well … good to see you, Boomer. I’m going back up to the lab … someone’s got to work on the Ingress Virus … right? Work on neutralizing it.” He glanced at Ricket with a shaming glance—one that didn’t seem to have any effect on the small Craing.
Beep beep beep.
Jason and Boomer turned to see Ricket smiling. “That sequence worked!”
Chapter 14
Held firmly in the grasp of three knights, Dira struggled to free herself there within the dreary entrance to Bastille Spire. In the flickering torch light, she saw the still form of the Omni lying the ground. She screamed, “Stop! Please … Stop!” A small flame continued to burn on the Omni’s uniform, on his upper shoulder, where he’d been shot by some kind of energized sword.
Prince Lhore Gallderaunt, eyes crazed and murderous, continued to kick the Omni in the stomach with his heavy boots.
“Stop! You’re killing him!” Dira screamed.
The prince continued his brutal onslaught, his mouth pulled back in a cruel grimace. Saliva dripped down his lips and off his chin.
“Please Lhore … I’ll make it worth your while!” The words spilled out before she knew what she was offering, but it got his attention. The fierce kicking slowed, losing some of their fury.
Then the prince stopped his assault altogether. Gazing at the dead body of his father, true sadness took hold of him and he openly wept. With a glance back at the unconscious Omni, he finally stepped over to Dira. “If he’s still alive … he will be brought before the king’s tribunal. They will find him guilty, but at least you will have time to say goodbye.” He looked to the men holding Dira. “Take her below with the others.”
“Yes, King Gallderaunt,” one of the three knights answered.
The now king turned to leave but then stopped. Wiping at his wet chin with a forearm, he said, “I will hold you to your promise. You will be called for … at my discretion.”
Two knights dragged the unconscious Omni away by his arms, as Dira was repeatedly shoved from behind to follow them. Unsure if the Omni was still alive, she knew that if his heart still beat in his chest, then his internal nanites were already at work—healing him from within. She attempted a NanoCom hail to the Jumelle—she couldn’t make a connection.
Deeper and deeper they treaded forward into Bastille Spire. Flaming torches, mounted into the rock walls, provided Dira with just enough light to see several yards ahead. The air soon became stifling—foul smells filling the passageway of body odors and excrement. Gagging, Dira placed a palm over her mouth and nose. Up ahead, she watched the Omni’s legs disappear as he was dragged down a winding rock staircase. She hesitated but again was pushed from behind. Almost losing her balance, Dira staggered down the first few steps, then reached out with her outstretched palms to touch the cold stone side wall to one side for support.
Around and around and down they went, descending for what seemed at least a half mile. Eventually, she heard voices—more like murmurs—coming from up ahead. Reaching the bottom of the stairs finally, Dira stepped down onto the wet stone flooring with trepidation. Squinting into the near-darkness, she tried to make out some details in the huge subterranean chamber. It was a vast open space. She quickly determined that many of the sounds she was hearing were actually coming from some distance away.
As Dira’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw the rest of the fleet officers up ahead—they were being manhandled to walk faster. She wondered where they were all being led off to. How far into this hellhole would they be taken?
She then noticed one of her thin shoulder straps had broken free—partially exposing her right breast. Terrific … how long has it been like that? she wondered. She casually pulled the fabric back into place, then held it there.
As more distinct voices steadily increased in volume, she could discern the individual silhouettes of the crewmembers imprisoned within the chamber, mostly those around the periphery. She heard the clanking of metal chains as prisoners moved and repositioned themselves to see the new arrivals. And there were other sounds too—soft moaning, sobbing, cursing, and what sounded like praying.
Dira wondered how many souls were imprisoned here. Hundreds? A thousand? There was no way to determine the number. The space recognizable near her was getting more and more dense with prisoners, who were bound and chained to metal rings on the floor. The smell was horrific. A
s their procession approached three nearby prisoners, Dira gasped. It took her a moment to comprehend what she was seeing in the near total darkness—Star Watch uniforms.
She heard the knights ahead slow to a stop and then drop their hold on the Omni’s arms. Someone grasped her from behind, and she was guided to a slightly more open area within the chamber. She heard chains rattle and one of her wrists was encircled in cold hard metal. After a knight secured the chain to one of the metal rings on the stone floor, the knights were suddenly gone.
She sat quietly on the cold stone for several minutes, thinking, this is bad. This is really, really bad.
Off in the distance, she heard someone—his voice purposely hushed—say, “I need the bucket … who has the bucket?”
She heard the tinny sound of a metal bucket being dragged across stone. “Oh God … just shoot me. Shoot me now,” she whispered.
“Dira?”
The voice was coming from behind her. She looked over her shoulder and then repositioned her body around. Squinting into the darkness, she whispered, “Who’s there? Who are you?”
“T … T … Tobi. Tobi Tops Limon.”
Dira recognized the voice and his pronounced stutter. A Shark. One of Billy’s guys. “Tobi? What are you doing here? How did you get here?”
“I was on the Aquarius … with everyone else in here. I was transferred to the Aquarius last year … to s … s … serve under Captain Granger.”
“Granger’s here?” she asked, looking into the darkness.
“N … N … No, he might have gotten away. Stayed behind on the ship with a few others. I don’t know … not for sh … sh … sure.”
Dira thought about that. But how? How could an entire Star Watch crew be taken prisoner? The mere thought seemed impossible. Sharks had SuitPac devices. Sure, the king’s knights were big … formidable. But certainly, nowhere in the league of a Shark, wearing an initiated combat suit. No way.
Scrapyard LEGACY (Star Watch Book 6) Page 8
