by Jason Hutt
“I thought we’d have more time,” Max said with a shake of his head.
“On the bright-side, at least Sinclair won’t be launching any more attacks,” Nick said.
Max shot him an annoyed look.
“So, do we shutdown the drive or what?”
Max recoiled at the suggestion.
“Hell, no. We do what we came here to do,” Max said, “Once we pick my ex and her daughter, we’ll figure out where to go next. It’s a big system; I’m sure we can find some place to lay low for awhile. We can get by on the ship’s stores for a couple weeks if we need to.”
“Come on, Max,” Nick said, “What’s the point in that?”
“Hard for me to explain, Nick, but you’ll see in a few hours,” Max said.
“Just tell me what’s going on. Is this why you got drunk last night?”
“This is good,” Max said, “You’re prepping me for facing my wife again.”
“I’m serious, Max.”
“So am I.”
Nick shook his head in frustration and looked out the window. Dust was getting pretty big in the window; they would be there soon. As Nick settled into his seat, a message arrived on his wrist computer.
Thanks for the tip. Look forward to catching you. - Dad
***
An hour later, the Hannah completed its orbital insertion burn. The curvature of Dust dominated their view. In the foreground, Nick and Max could see periodic thruster firings from other vehicles ahead of them. Max was monitoring their trajectory on his console and had taken control of the thrusters away from the ship’s computer.
Periodically, Max fired the thrusters in short bursts in order to alter their approach. He would slow the ship down slightly and then check the alterations to the trajectory on his console. Reggie, standing just behind Max, would independently verify the course correction and provide Max with thruster fire counts. They could have preprogrammed the computer to handle all of this, but with all the other ships in the immediate vicinity, Max was worried that he would have to make some last second modifications to his plan. Besides, he liked it better this way.
He looked over at Nick, monitoring his console for any potential collisions. With each burn, the ship’s computer evaluated the trajectory of any object that might cross their path. That data was then projected on Nick’s display through a collection of differently colored icons with associated velocity vectors surrounded by cones of uncertainty.
“How’s it look, Nick?”
“Like spaghetti.”
“That’s helpful.”
“There are so many other ships it’s almost impossible to sort out,” Nick said.
“Well, if any of those cones turn red, call it out.”
A beep came from the console. A link had been established with the Orbital platform they were approaching. The platform had grown from a tiny silver dot on the horizon to a large flat, spindly structure in orbit just ahead of them.
Reggie said, “They’re trying to initiate communication protocols with the drone.”
“Are you able to reply in kind?” Max asked.
“Yes, sir,” Reggie said.
“Good,” Max said, “What do they want?”
“They’re feeding us orbital parameters,” Reggie said, “We’re also getting instructions to ensure our jump drive is off-line. And a request…”
“For what?” Max asked.
“Jump drive and power core specifications and schematics.”
“Any idea what they’re doing?”
“No, sir. It’s not clear. We’re in for quite a wait though; there are 57 ships in the queue ahead of us.”
“Must be rush hour,” Nick said dryly.
“Reggie, when I fire the port thrusters, feed them the thruster failure signature,” Max said, “We’ll burn for thirty seconds. That’ll put us in a lower orbit and we should slip on by.”
Max knew that Reggie didn’t need to be told all this again; he just couldn’t help it.
“Yes, Captain,” Reggie responded, “On you order, sir.”
Max nodded and monitored a countdown timer that was rapidly approaching zero. Suddenly, a yellow indicator light appeared on Nick’s display.
“We’ve got a failure of a power transfer circuit,” Nick said, “Thruster control for the port thrusters is offline. It’s rerouting.”
“Crap,” Max said, “Might not have to lie after all, Reggie. Nick, watch that collision display.”
The timer on Max’s console hit zero and then started counting up.
“Reggie, are you still in contact?”
“Yes, sir,” the robot responded, “They are aware of our current situation.”
A collision threat turned red on Nick’s display. The data was hardly necessary as an old patrol frigate was growing increasingly larger in the window. Nick’s console finally beeped.
“Power’s rerouted,” Nick said, “You have control.”
Max didn’t waste any time responding; he activated the thruster and the ship canted downward just below the orbital plane of the frigate. Seconds later, the two ships passed, clearing each other by mere meters.
Nick exhaled and said, “That was close.”
“I’ve had closer,” Max said, “Reggie, are you still in contact with the platform?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve sent them the thruster failure signature. They’ve sent us updated orbital parameters if we regain control of the ship.
“We’re in the clear then,” Max said as he opened an intercom channel with the lounge, “Eleanor, get ready for re-entry, this could get a little bumpy.”
“I copy,” she responded with a hint of excitement.
Max smiled and said, “At least someone on this ship knows how to acknowledge an order.”
“You’re hilarious,” Nick responded.
A new timer appeared on Max’s console and when it struck zero, he executed a re-entry burn that put them on course to enter the airspace above Dust’s main continent under the cover of darkness. Everything was going according to plan.
Within thirty minutes, the ship was a fireball in Dust’s atmosphere. The sky around them was a brilliant orange-yellow fading to black as they entered the atmosphere in dusk and quickly passed into night. By the time the fire from atmospheric re-entry dissipated, the sky was fully dark. Max then adjusted their course to the north. They would be down in minutes.
“Go prep the sled, Reggie,” Max ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Reggie responded and then tromped out of the cockpit.
“Hope we’re ready for this,” Nick said.
“No turning back now,” Max responded, “Just be ready to move as soon as we set down. We won’t have much time.”
“Think Sinclair knows we’re here?”
Max shrugged. “With any luck, we won’t be here long enough to find out.”
Nick nodded and Max could see the concern on his face.
“Just relax, Nick,” Max said, “Sinclair’s not looking for us. Besides, with the Republic here, I’d say he’s got bigger problems to worry about. I doubt he’ll have the time to worry about one decrepit old freighter that strayed off course.”
***
The Hannah set down on a small landing pad just fifty meters from the coast. It wasn’t much of a facility, just a couple of solar-powered lights and a flat landing pad roughly a hundred meters square. The pad itself was nestled in a little alcove cut into the base of the sheer cliffs that dominated the landscape. Nick couldn’t imagine trying to land here in a storm; it was easy to see how a ship could’ve crashed out here long ago.
Nick stood on the pad and listened to the roar of the ocean surf as Max opened the hold door and retrieved the cargo sled. A constant wind blew in from the ocean and with it came the smell of salt on the air. Nick breathed deep. If this had been his first taste of Dust, he would’ve never wanted to leave.
The alcove they were in acted as a bit of a funnel, causing the air to constantly swirl about him. The air that hit hi
m was moist, but cool. The sounds and smells of the beach were incredibly refreshing after being cooped up in the artificial environments of the ship and the station for so long.
Standing there, staring out at the ocean, hearing the rhythmic pounding of the waves, Nick felt more relaxed and at ease than he had in weeks. There was something to be said for having your feet firmly planted on solid earth and hearing, seeing, and feeling nature all around you. Perhaps Max was right after all; maybe he wasn’t cut out for living life aboard a ship.
That thought would have to wait as the cargo sled smoothly slid out of the back of the hold with Max at the controls. He waved Nick over.
“Let’s get going,” Max said, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the wind and surf, “I don’t know if anyone will be looking for us, but I’d like to be out of here as quick as we can anyway.”
“Time’s a wasting, then,” Nick said as he climbed on the flatbed that comprised the back half of the sled. He watched Max at the controls; Max seemed to hesitate a moment, a look of uncertainty crossing his face. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Max responded. He briefly looked out at the dark, frothy surf.
“Are you sure?”
“No,” Max said with a shake of his head, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been out here, going on about eight years now.”
“Let’s try to make it a short trip down memory lane,” Nick said.
Max looked down at the paper-thin screen of his wrist computer.
“Nick, it’s entirely possible that my wife will not give me the time of day, but we’ve got to get them out of here. I’ve got to do this. This place…well, nothing’s going to be the same here again.”
“Let’s just get going,” Nick urged.
Max carefully guided the sled along a small trail at the base of the cliffs. They slipped from side to side as the path wound ahead staying just beyond the reach of the surf which Nick hoped was at the peak of high tide. Nick felt the urge to grab onto a handrail on the side of the flatbed as the sled went around another sharp curve.
Nick looked at Max whose expression looked untroubled by their weaving route. Actually, that wasn’t right; Max didn’t look like he was there at all. Nick used his wrist computer to activate the sled’s noise-dampening field and the sound of the pounding surf became distant.
“Are you okay, Max?”
Max blinked and nodded absent-mindedly. Nick wasn’t going to let the subject go that easily.
“What’s on your mind?”
Max inhaled slowly.
“Nick, have you ever wondered why the population control laws are still in affect? Why they weren’t enacted with some kind of timeframe? At what point does the law get repealed?”
Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. I assume somebody has that plan; I just don’t know it.”
“Don’t you think that after 50 years of these laws being in place that we’d start to see some real results from this? Shouldn’t the population be going down? Shouldn’t the Republic be contracting?”
“I guess so. I mean, they’ve told us plenty of times that the population has started decreasing,” Nick said as he stared at the waves, “Is this really what’s bothering you?”
“I just think you can’t outlaw something that is in our very nature. Someday, Nick, you’ll have your own child. When you hold that life in your arms and see how fragile it is, you’ll know what it means to feel responsible.
“That life you hold will be so fragile and innocent. When you hold them, when they’re that little, you realize how special they are, how much they need to be protected. As they grow, they give you purpose; you want to build a better life for them.
“To have that ripped away. I can’t explain the feeling. Some people can’t live with only one opportunity. They’ll do anything for another chance. Anything.”
Nick was silent for a moment. A wave crashed close to the sled and Nick ducked his head to avoid getting sprayed in the face.
“Is that why your wife had another baby?”
Max nodded and they rode in silence for several moments. Nick didn’t know what to say. He looked at Max and saw the pain in his expression, the tiredness around his eyes, tiredness and pain that were always there.
“When this place was first settled,” Max said, breaking the silence, “They named it Point Hope. It was supposed to be the crown jewel of Dust, a picturesque settlement that would be a hub of humanity. A pilot on a routine shipping run misread the winds around the cliffs. He plowed his ship dead center into the middle of the city. The reactor core on the ship ruptured and contaminated the entire area. Killed dozens.”
“So why am I not wearing hazard gear, then?” Nick asked.
“Well, the Conglomerate didn’t think it was worth the money to clean it up. They settled in Windy City since it was closer to the equator and easier to reach orbit, more cost effective. Some of the colonists, though, didn’t like getting off on such a bad foot here.
“Sinclair created some microorganisms that came in here and cleaned up all the radioactive material and any contaminated soil. It only took weeks. Nobody ever bothered to report to the Republic that the area had been cleaned up, so it still shows up on the charts as quarantined.”
They had traveled about two kilometers from the pad when Max banked left a little suddenly, more abruptly than Nick expected. Nick had to brace himself by jamming his arm against the flatbed. They had turned onto the bank of a wide river that fed into the ocean. They were now at the base of a wide, jagged canyon, cut into the surrounding plateau through many years of running water.
It took a few moments for Nick to orient himself and figure out what he was looking at. A full moon had risen over the mountains in the distance, casting the canyon valley in a pale blue glow. With the light of the moon, Nick was able to see what looked like giant steps, eight in all, carved into the canyon walls on both sides. Strung between them at odd intervals were small, antiquated foot bridges. When viewed at a distance, the walkways, some straight across, some sloped to allow passage from one step to another, looked like the web of a giant spider.
The steps and walkways were lined with small lights for as far into the distance as Nick could see. As they got closer, Nick began to make out doors and entryways carved into the canyon wall. There was a light for every door. They traveled a kilometer inland, Nick counting lights as they moved along, hundreds upon hundreds of lights.
“Are…are all these homes?” Nick asked.
“Some are,” Max responded, “Some are businesses, some are schools, some are local government offices, just like any other city.”
“Any other city that’s not classified as a hazardous area. If they’re trying to hide, these people are doing a lousy job of it.”
“Nobody’s looking,” Max said, “This isn’t Valhalla, Nick. The skies are not filled with surveillance satellites.”
The sled started slowing down and Nick could now make out numbers carved into the doors. Max then brought them to an abrupt stop. Max sat for a moment, staring at the door. The engraved number on the door read 1927.
“Come on. Let’s get this done,” Max said.
***
Max inhaled deeply and got off the sled. He walked up to the door and then checked the time on his wrist computer. It was still a reasonable hour; she should be up. Max pressed a spot on the computer screen. An icon appeared on the screen, indicating the door chime had rung. When Sharon checked her computer, assuming she had it on, it would let her know who was at the door.
Max waited. He could hear his heart beating somewhat faster than normal; his hands felt clammy. Nick stood two paces behind him and to his left, watching cautiously. The door slid open and Sharon was standing there, arms folded across her chest, glaring at him.
She was a short, trim woman with her dark hair pulled severely back into a knot behind her head. Her hair had streaks of gray in it. She was wearing a simple cream robe and nightgown, something that had been made locally.
/> “What do you want?” She asked very sharply. Her disdain for Max was readily evident.
“We need to talk, Sharon,” Max said, “This is important.”
She frowned and then took a step out of the doorway and looked to see who else was around. She noticed Nick for the first time.
“Who the hell is this?” She asked.
“A friend,” Max said, “He’s working for me.”
She shook her head in aggravation and gestured to them to come in.
“You’ve got five minutes, Max.”
Max closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped into the house. Nick quickly scurried in behind him. Sharon looked at them icily; Max knew she would explode at either of them if given the opportunity. They entered a well lit living room, illuminated by the same vines that covered the ceiling of the residential district in Windy City. The light highlighted the elaborate ceramics that covered the walls, tables, and countertops. Everything was pleasantly cool to the touch.
Sharon closed the door behind them and marched into the small living room with her arms folded across her chest. She glared at Max.
“This had better be good,” she said.
“Sharon, I need you to listen to me on this. I know we’ve got a lot of crap to sort through, but we don’t have much time,” Max said, “I need to get you two out of here.”
“What are you talking about?” Sharon asked.
“Sinclair has lost it,” Max responded, “He’s created some…some kind of creature, an army of them. He launched an attack on Nexus. It’s not safe here anymore. The Republic’s already in the system. No doubt they’ll be here soon. I’ve got to get you two out of here before that happens.”
“Have you gone insane, Maxime?! After all this time, after years without a word, you show up late at night, riding in on your white horse expecting to be the hero? Christ, you’re an asshole, Max,” Sharon yelled.
Out of the corner of his eye, Max watched Nick shrink against the wall. Max stood his ground; he had been in too many of these arguments to get intimidated by Sharon’s anger. This was not how he wanted the conversation to go, but it is what he expected.
