Infinity Is For Losers (Space Scout Book 2)

by Will Macmillan Jones

  And indeed the message did terminate. Rather like my chances of completing the mission successfully.

  “Now what?” I asked Annabelle, who looked as shocked as I felt.

  “We seem to be deep in it. Maybe we should just get out of here and fly back to Star Fleet Base.”

  “Colonel Rosto won’t be very happy if we go back without the Vipers.”

  “We won’t be very happy if we don’t get back – full stop.”

  “Look!” Annabelle pointed dramatically at the vast, dark bulk of the Emporium. I followed her pointed finger. There, in one observation window, was a blinking light. It was flashing in a regular pattern, which was easily read as the age old distress signal. A call for help.

  “So what?” I prepared to pull the Speedbird away from the hulk.

  “Maybe whoever that is can tell us what’s happened.”

  “Annabelle, we know what’s happened. A deal has been done, and we look like being the collateral damage.” I started computing the fastest way out of the star system.

  “I think we should check this out. Wait! The code is changing. Write this down!”

  In my pocket was a pen. But nowhere on the computerised flight deck was any scrap paper. Annabelle swore at me and dragged the manual out of its holder just below the flight console. “Use that!” she snarled.

  Defacing the flight manual and ship’s papers was a disciplinary offence, but I deemed it prudent not to mention that. Instead I pulled out a sheet of paper the mechanics had used to report malfunctions, and found an unused corner.

  “Copy this!” ordered Annabelle. “Dot, dot, dot, dash. Space. Dot, dot. Space – dot, dash, dash, dot. Next: dot. Space dot dash dot. What have we got?”

  “Dashed if I know. It looks like a join the dots puzzle!”

  “Do you know, I think it is.” Annabelle grabbed the sheet of paper and studied it. “It’s code. Morse code. And it spells ‘Viper’.” She looked at me. “That’s the magic word.”

  I examined the hull of the Emporium. “There’s an entry port, there, close to where the light was.”

  “Let’s go.” Annabelle left the flight deck. I lined up the Speedbird and tried to start the auto-docking system. But the Emporium stayed dark and silent. Carefully I lined up the airlocks and, using just the attitude jets, moved close to the hulk. The clang as the hulls kissed together rang through the ship.

  “Come on!” called Annabelle.

  She sounded impatient, so I closed down the engines and headed for the airlock. I donned my spacesuit as Annabelle had taken the spare, and joined her at the hatch. I cycled the airlock, and together we left the Speedbird and moved out into the infinity of open space, heading for the silent and dark – but not deserted - Emporium.

  Chapter five

  Trouble with a capital T

  I have entered deserted spaceships before, and it has rarely been a pleasant experience. Yes, I have survived all the episodes, but that didn’t mean that I was especially keen to have another go. Annabelle however suddenly seemed to be in her element. Escaping from an occupied planet under hot pursuit wasn’t her thing, but the opportunity to wave her weapon around and fire at random things clearly was.

  The airlock door to the Emporium closed behind us with an awfully loud click.

  “That’s noisy,” whispered Annabelle, unnecessarily.

  “Sssssshhhh.”

  I had a small hand blaster, and pointed it down one dark corridor. Annabelle pointed her gun the other way.

  “This way!” she said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because this way is the direction of that flashing light.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” I conceded.

  Annabelle set off in the approved, but incredibly silly looking, gait of a female heroine with an enormous gun looking for trouble. Personally I try to avoid looking for trouble, on the basis that it is already looking for me and I have no intention of making its task easier.

  Annabelle blasted an innocent piece of computer equipment, making me jump.

  “What did you do that for?” I wanted to know.

  “Sorry.” She didn’t sound in the least bit sorry. “I thought that I saw a shadow move.”

  We carried on down the corridor, me walking sideways like one of those pictures of ancient Egyptians so that I could watch where I was going and watch where I had been at the same time, making me go cross-eyed.

  The Emporium was entirely silent, and all the lights except the infrequent red emergency lights were turned off. Annabelle stopped at another computer device, and tried to open the screen. It remained resolutely blank, despite her best efforts. I stopped and looked over her shoulder.

  “What are you trying to do?” I asked.

  “Access the mainframe to recover the sitrep data and ascertain the current ship status.”

  “Good luck with that. This is an ATM, not a terminal.”

  “What? What? How do you know?”

  “There’s a sign up here.”

  Annabelle made a very rude noise, and stalked off. After a moment, she spun around and fired. I screamed and jumped to one side, falling painfully against the side of the passage. Annabelle fired again, and the ATM dissolved into a stream of molten plastic and torn metal.

  “That’s better,” she said cheerfully, and carried on down the passage.

  I thought about going back to the Speedbird, but clearly she was too accurate with that gun. Reluctantly, I followed her down the passage. Finally she stopped walking and held up one hand to stop me from walking past her, as if I was willingly going to get in front of her gun.

  “There’s the light,” she said quietly.

  She was right. There was a door on the hullside of the passage that led to a small observation chamber, and through the partly open door same an intermittent flash of light.

  “It’s still flashing that signal,” she observed.

  “Right,” I said.

  “You cover me, I’ll go in first.”

  That worked for me. “Fine,” I told her. “Let’s do it.”

  I stood beside the door, and aimed my handgun through the gap in the door. I could see nothing or no one. Annabelle raised one foot and kicked the door, hard. It swung open and as she jumped forward it swung back into her and knocked her over, ruining her big entrance. I stepped over her and looked into the room. There was a military signalling lamp on a stand, with a cable running to a small box which obviously controlled the signals sent out.

  “Don’t touch it! It might be dangerous!” snarled Annabelle from behind me.

  I turned to look at her. She was on one knee, pointing her gun at the control box.

  “There’s a sign on the back of the box.” I told her. I reached out and pulled a large piece of paper from the box. It was only held on with packing tape, but the ripping noise of the tearing tape was loud in that quiet spaceship.

  “What’s it say?”

  “Sorry.”

  “I asked, what’s it say?”

  “Sorry. That’s what it says.” I held up the sheet of paper to show her.

  Annabelle made a very disgusted sound. Obviously she didn’t approve of levity with her violence. “Wait!” she exclaimed. “There’s something smaller written on the back of the sheet. I saw it before you turned it over.”

  Annoyingly, she was right. I lifted the paper up to my face to see the tiny, copperplate script, and read it aloud. “Welcome to our Imperium guests. For your comfort and convenience, the Emporium will self destruct in five minutes from removal of this paper from the projector. We look forward to receiving your custom in your next incarnation.”

  “What does it mean?” I asked her. Or would have asked her: Annabelle was already out of the room and running madly down the passage towards the airlock. Fortunately I am well known for my skills in running away, I mean I have medals for it and everything, so despite her head start I had almost caught up by the time we reached the airlock.

  “Is it five minutes
yet?” she panted, fastening the faceplate of her spacesuit. She couldn’t hear the answer, but I gave it anyway.

  “Has the Emporium exploded yet? Then probably not.” I cycled the airlock and we hit the thrusters on our suits before the lock was fully open. Against regulations, but we really didn’t care about the damage we did to the interior of the Emporium’s airlock. The Speedbird was not far away and we seized at the grab handles beside the airlock with relief. I punched the entry code into the lock, and the entry port opened, to my considerable relief.

  “Hurry, Frank,” panted Annabelle once we were inside the ship properly. She pulled at my spacesuit with real urgency. I tugged off the helmet, and put it on the floor carefully before falling over as she dragged the suit down around my ankles.

  “Are you like this with all the men you meet?” I demanded, struggling to get my feet out of the clinging folds of the spacesuit.

  “Just get us away from here. Look!”

  I pulled my right foot free and jumped for the staircase. Outside, through the window in the airlock, I could see a bright flower of flame erupt from the upper deck of the Emporium. I waited no longer, but fled up the staircase with Annabelle close behind me. Explosion after explosion ripped through the Emporium and the Speedbird was rocked by the blasts. I fell and slid across the floor towards the door to the flight deck while Anabelle ended up under the table.

  The Speedbird started rolling, the artificial gravity failing to hold us in place with the systems all in standby mode. I grabbed at the frame of the door and howled in pain as it slammed on my fingers.

  “Frank!” Annabelle screamed from somewhere on the ceiling of the living area. “When the Emporium goes up it will take us with it!”

  Cursing I dragged myself into the Flight deck and looked up at the flight console. I could just reach the controls and shoved the power lever forward. The automated systems re-engaged and I gave a small smile at the heavy thump and subsequent yell of pain from the living area, before I dropped onto the flight console and swung myself into the pilot’s chair. The Speedbird accelerated and I punched a destination into the navcomm and linked in the hyperdrive unit.

  The speed rose to the transition point and as the rear vidscreen went white from the nuclear burst as the Emporium’s engines exploded I hit the transition switch and we escaped, again, just in time.

  Annabelle lurched into the Flight deck. “Do you always cut things this fine?” she gasped.

  I slumped back into my chair. “Believe me, I’d rather have some nice, safe, boredom for a change.”

  “So where are we headed? Besides just away?”

  “I didn’t have time to get the co-ordinates for any set destination, so I used one of the pre-programmed settings.”

  Annabelle looked at me.

  “I selected ‘Return to Base’, so we are heading back to Star Fleet Base. I don’t know about you, but I need some fresh instructions now.”

  Annabelle frowned. “I’m supposed to be out in the field, hunting for these missing Vipers.”

  “When the whole sector you were operating in has seceded to the Imperium Annabelle, either the Imperium has got our Vipers or they have been moved out to somewhere else. Let’s just go home.”

  Annabelle sighed. “Frank, the reason I was on Calliope was that that’s my home. I might work for The Free Union, but my home is now under the Imperium. And Colonel Starker. My family and friends are likely to be tortured and killed, their homes wrecked and their livelihoods ruined. That yard you had landed in was my Uncle’s. He and my father were some of those killed by that tank.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’ll get my revenge later. Now we’re enroute I’m going to spend some time on my own. I’d appreciate it if you could give me some time by staying here.”

  I nodded.

  “I’ll bring you coffee in a bit.”

  Annabelle left the flight deck without properly closing the door. I could hear her crying, and gently closed the door. Not because I’m sensitive or anything, you understand. I just can’t stand the sound of crying. The comms channel was silent as the Speedbird powered on through hyperspace towards Star Fleet Base.

  *

  “Star Fleet Base: this is Speedbird Six Sixty-Six, inbound, at reporting perimeter.”

  “Speedbird Six Sixty-Six, report mission code.”

  “Speedbird mission codes are, er… sorry. I seem to have spilt coffee on them.”

  “Speedbird, hold position.”

  I cursed and cut the power. The Speedbird drifted gently at the furthest perimeter from the huge space station, well aware that all the defence systems would be locked onto the scout ship.

  “Speedbird Six Sixty-Six, without mission codes your access is being sent for approval. Hold position.”

  “Star Fleet Base, Speedbird: instructions acknowledged.”

  “Speedbird Six Sixty-Six, Star Fleet Base. Report personnel onboard.”

  “Speedbird carries myself and one other. One of Colonel Rosto’s staff recovered within a combat zone.”

  “Speedbird Six Sixty-Six, access codes retrieved and approved. Docking station Two One Six has been allocated to you. Report on final approach.”

  “Report on final approach, Speedbird out,” I intoned.

  “Did you have to throw coffee all over the mission codes?” asked Annabelle.

  “It wasn’t intentional. Anyway, shut up now, I’m busy.”

  I threaded a course through the assorted starships orbiting Star Fleet Base. Some were civilian traders or supply ships but most were military, which worried me. Normally these ships would have been out patrolling the frontiers, but they seemed to have been collected together which implied that a large scale action was being planned. Finally we cleared the throng, I called final approach and received clearance to dock and was able to engage the automatic docking system and relax.

  “Time to report, then,” I told Annabelle.

  She looked tired. “I wonder if Colonel Rosto will be here to report to?” she speculated.

  “With all the hardware out there hanging about? Rosto is always drawn to a concentration of Power, Annabelle. He’ll be there. Somewhere. Like a bad smell.”

  “You don’t like him, Frank, do you?”

  “I have this inbuilt suspicion of people who have tried to get me killed.”

  “Fair enough.”

  The docking control lights changed from red to green and I shut down the engines and placed the flight console on standby mode.

  “Let’s go.” I led the way down to the airlock, and into the huge space station. As always, I felt a little depressed at setting foot onto the Star Fleet Base. After all, this may be my home – such as it is – but to carry on the analogy, my immediate superiors behaved as if they were excessively strict parents and I was a teenage delinquent.

  My preconceptions were confirmed when I stepped through the airlock and found we had a welcome home celebration in the form of a diminutive and excessively stroppy lieutenant from the admiral’s staff waiting for us.

  “Walk this way, please,” he said and led off down the corridor.

  I obeyed and Annabelle had to lean on the wall to stifle her giggles. The Lieutenant ignored us, but I could see from the rigid set of his shoulders that he wasn’t very happy.

  We had docked at the discreet level of the space station reserved for the visitors the Fleet either wanted to disown or deny, not a location that filled me with confidence. We were shown into a conference room, told that there were refreshments available (which, like most Star Fleet utterances was entirely accurate and entirely misleading – there was just one small bottle of water on the conference table. The refreshments were indeed available, just not present.) and left to wait. I checked the door: it was locked. After an hour or so, the door was unlocked, and the admiral, Colonel Rosto, and two other men I didn’t recognise came into the conference room.

  “Ah, Captain Russell and Miss Stephens. Miss Stephens, welcome to Star Fleet Bas
e.” The admiral waved at his colleagues. “Colonel Rosto you both know. This is Mister Dumas, from The Free Union’s Department of Trade and vice-admiral Forrester from The Department of Defence.”

  None of them offered to shake hands, but sat down along one side of the conference table. Rosto pointed to the other side, and Annabelle and I sat down too. I noticed that Annabelle carefully chose a chair that was not next to mine.

  The admiral raised his hand and clicked his fingers; almost immediately a tray with refreshments for the various officials appeared through the door. We were pointedly excluded. “Captain Russell,” he said. I looked alert. “We are currently retrieving and reviewing the onboard log from your Speedbird, to assimilate the information held there. However, for the moment we would like an informal briefing on the results of your mission. You were sent to find the location of the Viper class scout ships that were purchased from the Emporium Sector of The Merchant Princes’ quadrant. You are familiar with the transaction as you were involved with its conclusion, were you not?”

  He seemed to want an answer, so I played safe. “Sir.” Possibly the only word that can never get you into trouble with your superiors, in my extensive experience.

  “Did you find the ships?”

  The vice admiral leant forward, his arms folded on the table. “Captain, those ships are a vital resource we need desperately.”

  The functionary copied him exactly. “Captain, Russell, we are also concerned about the considerable amount of money that we paid under your auspices, which seems to have gone missing with the ships.”

  Now we were getting to the nitty-gritty. Money had vanished and someone had to be held responsible. Well, it wasn’t going to be me.

  “Sir, I proceeded to the last known position of The Emporium: the co-ordinates applicable when I transported Colonel Rosto to meet the CEO.”