Fugitive: A Space Opera: Book Five of The Shadow Order

by Michael Robertson

  “I’ll let you borrow those,” Seb said, and the creature jumped backwards at his words. It kept its blaster raised and pointed at him. What had Moses said about him? Armed and dangerous? Fighting skills to be an arena champion?

  “Where did you get this sword from?”

  “You recognise it?”

  “Just answer the question.” As assertive as it tried to be, the beast failed to hide its nerves, its voice shaking. Moses must have really laid it on thick about Seb.

  “I found it on an unconscious cargo bay guard.” Seb made a point of looking at the other two before returning his attention to their leader. “It could have remained conscious had it not provoked me.”

  Seb couldn’t help but smile to watch the rhino creature’s throat bob when it swallowed.

  The other of the three guards—the hornless one—said, “We should take him to the captain.”

  Thankfully they’d said that rather than taking him to Moses. He’d be able to help the captain see reason.

  CHAPTER 25

  The same reaction he got wherever he went in Aloo, Seb watched the captain of The Slip twist in his presence as if his simply being there turned the air rancid. Then he scowled pure contempt at him. A mandulu! They were everywhere. It would be hard to keep his mouth shut with this one. You can do it, the voice said.

  So close Seb could feel his body heat, the mandulu looked him up and down. “You’re the one Moses is looking for, aren’t you?”

  “Before you hand me in and claim your reward,” Seb said, staring at the beast’s fat and weak chin, “can you check my back pocket? I don’t want to reach for it in case you think I’m trying to grab a weapon.”

  The captain looked at the rhino guard and nodded in Seb’s direction. “Go on, then.”

  The rhino paused, clearly not on board with the idea of getting close to Seb again. But when the mandulu glared at it, it clearly realised it had no other option.

  Seb lifted his robe to make it easier for the brute and winked at it. “Now don’t get frisky, okay?”

  The creature snorted at him and rammed its hand into his back pocket so hard it nearly dragged his trousers down with the force.

  It retrieved the card and handed it to the mandulu. The captain of the ship stared at it for a few seconds. The silence held as it pulled a small light from its pocket and ran it over the plastic rectangle. The circular emblem with the submarine in the middle of it lit up. After a heavy sigh, the mandulu said, “Why didn’t you tell them you had this?”

  A look at the rhino, Seb shrugged. “Didn’t trust them enough to reveal it. I wanted to get to you first.”

  The rhino scowled but didn’t reply.

  “Besides, it wouldn’t have been anywhere near as fun. Might as well wind the monkeys up before I get to see the organ grinder, eh?”

  The captain stared at Seb.

  “So this card trumps the reward Moses will pay for me?”

  “It doesn’t trump it,” the captain said, “it’s just a piece of plastic.”

  Had Owsk sold him out? A slight quickening of his pulse, Seb looked at the captain, the rhino, and back to the captain. Despite his urge to ball his metal fists in defence, he resisted, opting for “Huh?” instead.

  Silence. The rhino stepped closer to Seb, clearly desperate for a chance to attack him.

  Another weary sigh, the captain said, “However, my obligation to the card and, by extension of this card, to you, trumps it.”

  “That’ll do.” Seb relaxed, smiled, and held an open palm in the direction of the rhino creature. “I’ve let you hold my weapons and phone for long enough now. Give them back before you get any ideas of keeping them.”

  After watching his head guard hand Seb his weapons back, the captain said, “Where do you want to go?”

  “The same place you’re going to.”

  “You know where we’re going?”

  “Yep. I heard that simpleton advertise it in the square.”

  The rhino bristled, but Seb only had a peripheral awareness of it because he remained fixed on the captain.

  Another pause, the captain appeared to be searching for some reason within himself to say no. But he also looked like he knew he couldn’t, regardless of how rich Moses’ credits would make him. “Fine,” he finally said before calling out through the ship at unseen crew members, “Let’s get ready to depart for Danu.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Maybe Seb’s memory of the house came from when he used to be happy. A time when nothing mattered but water fights with Davey and making sure they were home for dinner. Maybe it looked this bad when he’d seen it last and he’d been too close to it to notice. Maybe the time he’d been away had been enough to take its bite from the rickety structure. Completely empty since his dad had died, even basic maintenance would have stood it in better stead. Whatever the reason, now that he stood in front of his dad’s old wooden house, it looked ready to collapse with exhaustion.

  The winds on Aloo—especially on the docks—had been hard to cope with. The strength of the breeze on Danu went to a whole other level. The elements crashed so hard into Seb, he struggled to remain in the same spot. Despite the bright, early morning sunshine, the gales brought a bitter chill with them. As much as he hugged himself against the onslaught, the cold ran straight to his bones.

  When he got to the doorstep of his dad’s old house, Seb reached up and knocked. The rickety old door shook with the impact and the sound ran into what would undoubtedly be an empty house beyond. Why wouldn’t it be? His dad had died years ago. But it didn’t matter that Seb now had his name on the deeds. The house would always belong to his father.

  No response, of course, yet Seb still remained there, waiting. The time when Officer Logan brought him back for fighting ran through his mind. He’d stood in exactly the same spot while his dad’s old work colleague gave his dad what turned out to be the last true disappointment in a long line of disappointments. It had been the day his dad had revealed his prognosis.

  The tall Officer Logan, although kind, remained loyal to Seb’s dad from the days when they were on the force together. Because Seb got into so much trouble from fighting, that relationship often worked in his favour. Sure, he sugarcoated nothing when speaking to his dad, but Officer Logan had moved mountains to keep Seb from spending any time in jail. Bad enough they had Davey locked up.

  At least fifteen minutes had passed since the taxi had dropped Seb off. He’d been outside for so long, staring at the house, that the sand in the wind burned the right side of his face. He either needed to turn around while he waited for someone to answer the door, or accept his reluctance as procrastination to help him avoid the pain buried deep inside him. At some point he’d have to cross the threshold.

  Orphaned over two years ago at the age of twenty-four, no matter how long Seb waited outside, that wouldn’t change. Yet he still didn’t enter the place. The storm shutters on the outside of the house were closed. The generator was off. The only things living inside the house would be snakes, lizards, and spiders. The spiders and lizards he could cope with. A shudder snapped through him to think of some of the snakes they encountered this far out of town.

  Seb finally leaned down and lifted the rock by the front door. Heavier than he remembered it, the rough surface scratched his fingertips and he almost dropped it.

  Several hard-shelled insects scattered as Seb tossed the rock to one side, leaving the copper key bug-free for him to retrieve. Not even the insects would give him an excuse to avoid going in.

  A shake ran through Seb as he stabbed the key at the lock, missing the hole several times like a drunkard returning from a night out. When he finally got it in, he twisted it, the mechanism gritty like most things on Danu. The door fell open, the old hinges groaning with its movement. The sound called along the dusty and deserted hallway. “Hopefully it’ll scare the snakes off,” he said, loud enough so he did the job if the hinges hadn’t. Another cringe twisted through him.

  Once
inside, Seb closed the door, cutting off the howling wind and blocking out most of the light. The wind shutters had been fastened tight, so the only illumination came through the many cracks in the building’s shell. The place smelled of dust and sand. Maybe he’d stay long enough to do something about it. Maybe he could tidy up a little. Not likely though.

  Because he still wore his cloak, albeit with the hood down, Seb reached into its pocket and felt for the phone Buster had given him. By Buster’s reckoning, he still had a few days before it rang.

  A deep breath as if he were about to jump into an ice bath, Seb’s heart sped away from him as he delved deeper into his dad’s old house. The sand on the wooden floorboards crunched beneath his every step, letting the ghosts know he’d returned. As much as his memories of his dad made him feel like crap, he had to remember he was a good man. They rarely saw eye to eye, but he wanted what he believed to be the best for his boys. He ended up with what he believed to be the absolute worst. Seb sighed. Who could blame him for being disappointed?

  Seb walked around the house, opening the windows and then shutters in turn. Each time he got a sandblasting as he threw the shutters wide, the bright glare from outside momentarily dazzling him. Only a few seconds before he closed the windows, but enough to fill the house with a rush of sandy air. At least it helped clear out what smelled like years’ worth of stagnation.

  When he opened each window, Seb also scanned the horizon for the creature who’d tailed him on Aloo. If Moses had hired a bounty hunter, they would be among the best at what they did. Even if they hadn’t ridden on The Slip with him, it wouldn’t take them long to track him down. The second he lowered his guard would be the second he regretted it.

  A chill deep in his bones from spending too much time outside, Seb went to the front room next. The basket next to the fireplace overflowed with wood. His dad never liked to run out of anything. The cupboards always had two of each item because he liked to have a spare. The amount of times he’d shouted at Seb for not telling him when he’d used up the last jar or can of whatever product they’d run out of. The slightest hint of a smile lifted the sides of Seb’s mouth to think about it now.

  Even if some of the other supplies in the house ran out, firewood had always been a constant. In fact, Seb had never seen the bucket go any lower than three-quarters full. If any of the family passed comment, they’d be reminded of the great sandstorm years previously that meant no one could get out of their houses for days. Several old people had died because of the cold.

  “Yeah, Dad,” Seb said, continuing the argument in the empty house, “but they were old, and it was twenty-five years ago. So, no, I don’t remember it.” The sound of his own voice echoed through the place. It highlighted his forced tone of trying to find humour where he had none. He swallowed a gritty gulp, grief adding to the burn in his throat.

  It took about fifteen minutes before the fire kicked out enough heat for Seb to remove his cloak. For a moment, he considered burning it. Horrible thing, and he’d paid through the nose for it. Instead, he threw it on the sofa and fell backwards into his dad’s chair. Dust kicked up from not being used for years, but after a minute it settled and Seb revelled in the warmth of the open fire and his position directly in front of it.

  Exhaustion ran through Seb’s veins, his muscles turning to lead as he listened to the hiss, pop, and crackle of the fire. The flames danced for him, hypnotising him and taking some of his many worries away. Buster would call at some point. Until then, he just had to wait.

  Seb looked around the room at the photographs on display. Always fair, there were two pictures of him and two pictures of his brother, Davey, the only remaining family member not dead. Every other photo of the twenty-three was of his mum. As he looked at them, the details of each image faded away, blurring behind his spread of tears. He’d barely had a chance to get to know her. He barely knew himself at nine years old.

  Time passed, Seb’s cheeks turning sodden with his tears. He had to remember why he’d come back to the house. Owsk had told Seb about the prophecy. One of the many beings to tell him what they saw. He had something in his blood. Something that meant he was destined for great things. The gift had been passed down from his mother. That was why he’d come back to his dad’s home. Surely he’d find something there.

  Seb’s gaze returned to the only family photo in the room. Above the fireplace, it had his mum and dad in the middle. Davey sat on one side, him on the other. It showed a time when they were happy. A time he didn’t remember.

  Maybe Seb should visit Davey. His only remaining relative, and someone who shared his blood. Maybe Seb’s only part in the prophecy would be to help his brother realise his full potential. Maybe Davey carried the special talents buried deep within their mother’s genes.

  Whenever Seb had wanted to visit Davey in the past, he’d always been told no. But he hadn’t tried for years. Now he’d returned to Danu, he had to give it another go.

  Yes, you should.

  The voice caught Seb off guard and he looked around the room. “Mum?”

  Nothing.

  “Should I go and see Davey?”

  Yes.

  As much as he tried to hold them back, Seb’s tears returned in a heavy wave.

  CHAPTER 27

  It took several hours and a river of tears before Seb felt like he could move again. Once he’d started crying, it took a huge effort to stop. The fire now glowed, the roaring flames of a few hours ago just a distant memory buried in the embers. Although his body still ached, it had done him good to rest up.

  For the entire time Seb had sat in his dad’s seat by the fire, he’d waited. He’d waited for the energy and resolve to get up, but more importantly, he’d waited for the voice to return to him. He’d even muttered, “Mum?” once or twice in the hope she’d say something. She didn’t.

  Seb put his hand on his stomach when it rumbled. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate. Would there still be food in the kitchen? Probably. Two of everything. But would it still be edible?

  At only twenty-seven, Seb shocked himself when he groaned as he stood up out of his seat. His dad had always said one of the first signs he was getting old came when he started making noises to help him stand up. The thought of it made him smile, but a maudlin pang rode on the back of it.

  Like the rest of the house, the kitchen hadn’t been touched since Seb had been there last. Now he had daylight streaming through the un-shuttered windows, he saw the dust motes dancing in the air. They ran up his nose, his eyes watering again before he sneezed several times in quick succession. The sound of it went off in the quiet house like a bomb.

  Dried-up mowgrove fruit sat in the fruit bowl. Utterly inedible by now. When his dad had told him his prognosis, he’d been eating one. The nauseous lump returned to his stomach and threatened to drag him under again. But he drew a deep breath, straightened his posture, and pulled his shoulders back. He needed to keep going. Eat, go and see Davey, and then make a choice from there. Maybe Davey had an idea on how he could find out who their mum had been. What they’d inherited from her genetics.

  True to form, the cupboards had two of everything in them. Two tins of beans. Two tins of peaches. Two packets of dried noodles with squoch. Seb reached up and pulled both tins of peaches down, looking over his shoulders from where he could feel his dad’s eyes on him. “We’ve got no peaches left, Dad, you’ll need to order some more,” he said, his voice dying in the house’s stillness.

  The use by date on the side of the tin showed they had a few years before they went bad, so Seb removed the lid, bent it so he could use it as a spoon, and scooped the fruit from the can.

  The peaches were in syrup. The thick sugary hit lit up Seb’s taste buds and made his mouth water.

  Each bite of the plump slices exploded in Seb’s mouth. Then he looked at his dad’s safe and the enjoyment of his experience dulled. It had always been there, in plain sight. It had been embedded in the wall for as long as they’d lived i
n the house. But his dad had never revealed its contents, and Seb had never dared ask. Not the most communicative of relationships.

  And now, even if Seb had wanted to get inside the safe, he wouldn’t know where to start looking for the key.

  Two tins of peaches down, and although Seb enjoyed the sweet aftertaste, his stomach hadn’t got the message that he’d eaten anything yet. A look back in the cupboard. The noodles would be edible, but no more tasty than they’d always been. Whenever he’d eaten them in the past, they left him with a foul aftertaste and the need to drink about seven gallons of water to combat the salty hit. They were a last resort kind of food. The sort of food that tasted great when he was a teenager.

  Before Seb could take the beans from the cupboard, the groan of the front door’s hinges enquired through the house. Is anybody home?

  The sound spiked Seb’s pulse and he froze for a moment, looking in the direction of the front door, but unable to see it from where he stood.

  Because Seb had left his cloak and weapons in the front room, he balled his metal fists instead and shook his head to himself. Not another damn fight. A deep breath to slow his world down, he then ran across the wooden floor on tiptoes. He pressed his back against the wall next to the kitchen door and held his breath to listen.

  Footsteps walked up the hallway towards him, the crunch of sand beneath them. The floorboards creaked, almost as if the old house let out a weary sigh at being trodden on.

  The steps of the intruder were heavy against the floor. Whoever came at him at that moment sounded like they were large enough to cause him trouble. They also sounded like they didn’t expect anyone else to be there.

  As the intruder drew closer, Seb’s pulse kicked through him, adrenaline building up, ready to be spent. Fight or flight. He rarely ran.

  One last deep breath to slip into slow motion, Seb then jumped from his hiding place, screamed as he kicked the kitchen door wide open, and rushed forward with his fists raised.