The Dead Priest

by K A Bledsoe

  Lenore pulled at her lower lip as she mused aloud. “Should we refuse this job? Not a good sign when official documents are fake.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time we did something that wasn’t exactly legal,” said Diarmin. Allison’s mouth dropped open at her father’s comment, and her mother gave him a sour look. Quinn had also turned with a surprised expression, but when his eyes caught his father’s, they matched grins.

  They’ve been talking. I’ll get it out of Quinn later.

  “I think we should ask him,” said Allison, the words slipping out. As all heads swiveled to her, she stammered somewhat. “Bondle, that is. I mean we don’t know why he lied about the permits. Everything else he has said seems to be the truth.”

  “Like what?” asked Quinn.

  “Well, he kept talking about samples and with the information I pulled, he works at the biolab on the planet. Now, the system he wants to go to, Reese, let me show you...” Allison pulled up the information on her screen. “It’s a closed system with a warning to outsiders not to land on any of the planets without express permission due to code four-five-eight. Now that code means—”

  “That there is a plague,” said her mother.

  “Yeah. How did you know that? I had to hack several sites to find out what that code meant.”

  Lenore just shrugged and gestured at Allison to continue.

  “See, a biolab... samples... plague...” she ticked off each with her fingers. “Put them all together and he has medicine of some sort. Maybe even a cure. We gotta help him, even if it isn’t ‘exactly legal’. The planetary government could be the bad guys here.”

  Now her father grinned at her, winking at her paraphrasing his own words.

  “Diarmin, what have you been teaching our children?” asked Lenore, her exasperated tone belying the smile tugging at the left corner of her mouth.

  “That sometimes you have to go with your instincts. I think we should talk to Bondle,” said Diarmin.

  “After all,” Quinn piped in, “we have come all this way. Be a shame to give up a paying job. Especially when our accounts are so low.”

  Lenore threw up her hands. “If my family is ganging up on me, might as well go along with it.” She sent a message asking to speak with Ven Bondle. The speed with which he answered meant he was waiting for the call.

  “Yes. You are an hour away, Captain Fleming? My cargo is prepared for immediate loading when you arrive.”

  “First things first, Mr. Bondle. It appears there might be a problem with these permits.”

  “Oh, um, okay. I can, um, will show you the originals after you land. Remember here and not, um, not at the spaceport and then you can verify—” his stammering was interrupted by Lenore.

  “The landing seems to be another issue, Mr. Bondle. I assure you that we do not ship illegal cargo.”

  Diarmin coughed into his hand and Lenore threw him an irritated look.

  A large sigh from the intercom made Lenore’s eyes narrow. “Please, Captain. I will explain everything when you arrive. My cargo is not illegal. It is medicine sorely needed back on my planet, but I am avoiding the spaceport because they will slap such a high export tax on it that I won’t even be able to afford to keep the lab. Please. Once the crates are delivered to the planet, my government will pay double our agreed-upon fee.”

  Now her mother’s eyes widened, and Allison’s eyebrows shot up, probably just like her father’s.

  “Very well. We shall speak further upon our arrival in one standard hour. Fleming out.”

  “Double,” said Quinn. “That would be one hell of a payout.”

  “Yes,” she mused. “And that is what worries me.”

  ***

  “Approaching Drenon,” said Diarmin from the navigation console. Quinn was sitting next to him to learn how to avoid detection.

  “Two satellites are transmitting back to the spaceport,” said Allison from her console. “Sending their coordinates and scanning vectors to your display, Dad.”

  “Thank you, Allison.” His fingers tapped on his board, some simultaneously. “Wow. This is a pretty tight system, ah wait. There it is. See that, Quinn?”

  “That overlap of the satellite scanners?”

  “Yep. That usually means there will be some free space on the other side.” More tapping. “And there it is,” he said and nodded as Quinn pointed. “Yes. Now we slide in undetected between scans, and then fly low enough to be under the satellite sensors. The landing site is very close, so hold on everyone.”

  Lenore gripped the arms of the command chair, oddly enjoying this side of Diarmin. Usually she was on a planet or away from the bridge when he did his fancy flying, and she tended to forget his proficiency. Quinn appeared eager to learn and, already talented at flying the shuttle, he would most likely become as capable a yacht pilot as Diarmin.

  “Good job, Keltons.” She tapped a few buttons on her own console then stood. “From here until I say, we are on Level Three Alert.”

  “Really? Level Three?” asked Allison.

  “Absolutely. Monitor all communications and I will carry hidden weapons when I meet Ven Bondle. The ship will be prepped for launch in case I give the emergency signal, and everyone will be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Yes, yes, and don’t let anyone in we don’t recognize and never give in to any kind of threat. I know what Level Three Alert means, Mom.” Allison gave a toss of her curls. “I was just thinking do we need that high of an alert?”

  “We are landing illegally to pick up an unknown cargo that may or may not be dangerous. We already know this person has lied to us and furthermore…”

  “Okay, okay. Just making sure we aren’t being paranoid,” said Allison, then she winced in anticipation.

  “Better paranoid than hurt or dead,” said Lenore.

  “Landing struts extended,” said Quinn. Another tap of the command console activated the external cameras. Lenore brought up the belly cam which showed nearly all greenery except one clear area that grew in size as the ship descended. She switched to the rear camera that was in line with the buildings on the other side of the clearing. Zooming in detailed one large building with smaller ones attached and one separate building that appeared to be housing. Four containers were stacked relatively close to the building with two men on either side.

  “Scanners show no weapons,” said Allison. “On either the people or anywhere in the compound.”

  Lenore merely nodded; the scan was expected with a Level Three Alert. The two men standing there, despite the fact that if the ship fired up the engines they would be instantly killed, showed either ignorance or trust.

  No matter. “I’m heading to my room to prep,” she said. All three nodded. They knew she would be arming herself to the hilt. Once again, she felt a stab of pride for her talented and quite competent family.

  Lenore descended the ladder in her usual reckless fashion, confident in Diarmin’s smooth landing. Within minutes, she was geared up and left her room as she heard the antigrav engines shut off. At the same time, she felt the pull of a slightly heavier gravity kick in as the ship’s grid went offline. Diarmin clattered down the ladder to meet her.

  “Open the cargo bay? Or through the hatch?” he asked.

  “Go ahead with the cargo bay. No weapons detected and speed seems to be important. I will meet them. You stay in the bay, observing.” She handed him an earpiece after they descended the ladder to the cargo bay. “If you hear anything suspicious, you know what to do.”

  “The kids?”

  Lenore grimaced. She knew what he was asking and felt now wasn’t the time, but he had a point. “They can listen as well, but from the bridge. There they will be secure enough, and it will give them experience with confrontations without being in danger themselves.” She put a hand on his arm. “I truly don’t think there is anything underhanded but better to be prepared.”

  “Be safe.” Diarmin hit the button to open the large bay doo
rs, and she watched him put the piece in his ear as the doors creaked open. With a nod to her husband, she squeezed between the doors as soon as there was space enough. Not waiting for the ramp to extend, she lightly jumped to the ground and headed for the buildings, pressing her vocal implant to activate it.

  The two men were already maneuvering two of the four six-all crates, each on antigrav platforms, toward the ship. Lenore hurried her pace to intercept them.

  “Hold it,” she said, planting herself squarely in front of the crates. The man on the right peered around the crate and yelled at the other to stop. Both hit a button on the handles and the platforms slowly ground to a halt only two feet away from Lenore.

  The man who gave the order dropped the handle and came to speak with her. He was rather short, his dark brown hair slicked back and looked young, perhaps in his late twenties. He wore an unbuttoned white lab coat over a blue shirt with black pants and peered at Lenore as if he needed glasses. The other man seemed to be similarly attired but with a closed coat.

  “Captain Fleming, I am Ven Bondle.” He held out a hand and she took it in a brief, strong grip. “What’s the delay? As I told you, time is of the essence.”

  She released his hand and then held hers out, palm up. “I believe you said you would show me the original permits?”

  Bondle sighed. “I am sorry for the deception, Captain Fleming. I must admit that the permits I sent you were not official.” He cleared his throat and tugged on his lab coat in a nervous gesture. “I simply do not have enough cash to get the proper permits through quickly enough before the active cultures go inert.”

  Lenore felt her lips twist. It happened often enough, needing an extra 'rush' fee that everyone knew was actually a bribe. But another word caught her ear. “Cultures? Do they pose a danger to my crew?”

  “No, no. Not at all. Please, I am desperate.” Bondle’s hand came up as if to grab her arm but obviously thought better of the idea. “My planet, Reesling, third planet of the Reese system, has been subjected to a variety of plagues for over three generations. We have labs on many planets trying to find a cure. I believe what I came up with will not only cure the most recent strain, but there is an organism in these jungles that is adaptable and can be altered to cure any future diseases. Please. Millions are dying and the plague is beginning to spread to the other planets. The Reese system has few ships, and none are close or fast enough to get the cargo home before the half-life of the altered DNA becomes inert. If this cure is successful, the entire system will commit significant resources on this planet, but that won’t happen unless I get these samples there as soon as possible.”

  Lenore took in the rushed speech with her arms crossed. That certainly matched with Allison’s findings. She peered closely at Bondle, looking for any of the telltale signs that would indicate deception.

  “Reese is a closed system,” she said. “I don’t know if I should risk my crew landing on a plague-ridden planet.”

  “I can get us permission to enter the system and we have safety measures to insure protection to outsiders. If we didn’t, we couldn’t import or export anything. Please, Captain.” His face took on a look close to pleading. “Oh, and here...” He fished around in one of his lab coat pockets and pulled out a credit flimsy. “This is everything I could scrape together for the advance payment.” He pressed it into her hand, his eyes intent on her face. “Please.”

  He seemed very sincere and Lenore could find no tells that anything he said was less than the absolute truth. Her teeth clenched briefly, and she made a decision, hoping she wouldn’t regret it. She shoved the flimsy into her own pocket and nodded.

  “Very well. Let’s get these loaded.”

  Bondle’s face broke into a huge smile and he grabbed her hand and shook it vigorously. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He dashed back to the control handle and activated the platform. The other man had already started as soon as Lenore assented, so he was already moving. Lenore paced alongside the man in front.

  “I’m Fleming. You are?”

  “Assistant Researcher Mill,” he answered, not taking his eyes off the terrain in front of his load.

  “Did you help develop this cure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you agree that they pose no danger to me and my crew?” Mill gave her an odd sidelong glance but didn’t stop moving forward as he answered.

  “The crates are very secure and the cultures within are triple sealed.” He reached the ramp, stopped, and for the first time, looked directly at Lenore. “Even if all those layers were somehow breached, the cultures have not been purposed yet and so would not affect a living organism. You are safe from these samples.” He turned away to guide the crate up the ramp, Diarmin at the top ready to help guide the six-all to the correct place in the cargo bay.

  Lenore wondered at Mill’s specific word choice but filed it away in the back of her mind to think about later and went to help Bondle.

  Chapter Eleven

  After the cargo was stored to Bondle’s satisfaction, Lenore had Quinn show him to the first guest room. As soon as they disappeared up the ladder, Diarmin scanned the six-alls for anything that might pose a danger.

  “No electronics except those that control the climate in the crates,” he said to Lenore. He tucked away the scanner in one of the drawers along the back wall that held a variety of tools and instruments needed to maintain a ship. “I could only do a passive scan. Bondle said any penetrating scans will damage the cargo, but it looks like exactly what he says it is.”

  Lenore’s arms remained crossed. “Huh. Then why do I feel nervous about all this?”

  “Because it’s a tad illegal? Avoiding the shipping taxes and fees?” said Diarmin with a small smile.

  Lenore stared at the crates. “That’s not it. Like you said we’ve done that before.” She looked back at her husband, noticed the grin, and realized he was teasing her. “Stop that. There is absolutely no reason to suspect Bondle, but it’s one of my gut instincts that I hope will prove to be wrong.”

  “Then let’s get this ship and cargo on the way to the Reese system as soon as possible,” he said, gesturing for her to precede him up the ladder.

  As they climbed the second ladder to the bridge, Quinn joined them. Allison vacated the command chair and Diarmin took it.

  “Thank you for starting the launch prep, Alli,” he said as he continued the process.

  Quinn took the navigator’s seat while announcing that Bondle was settled in his cabin.

  “I told him we would announce lift-off in time for him to strap in safely,” said Quinn as he logged into the nav console. “Here’s the course I came up with, Dad.”

  Diarmin pulled the course up on his screen. Lenore sat at the science console at the back of the bridge and accessed the file as well.

  “Why are we stopping at Sultra?” Diarmin asked his son.

  “It’s the best place for refueling,” replied Quinn. He tapped on his console and a map of star systems came up with a red circle around the Sultra system. “We will still have about a fourth of our fuel, but there is a large station on the edges of the system that is a huge hub for traders and transports.” He grinned at his parents. “Maybe we can even pick up another passenger or two.”

  Lenore nodded to Quinn, pleased at his suggestion.

  “Good idea, Quinn,” said Diarmin. “Everything else seems in order. Plug it in and let’s go.”

  Quinn’s grin widened, obviously pleased at the first time a course he had plotted was accepted without any changes.

  Lenore pressed the command to activate the speaker in the cabins. “Please strap in, Mr. Bondle. Anti-grav engines online.”

  “Ready, Captain,” said Bondle.

  Lenore closed communications and nodded to her husband. Diarmin expertly lifted the ship, and Allison put the satellite courses back on the viewscreen like when they landed.

  “Thanks, Alli, but we don’t need to be as careful this time.”

  “
Huh?” Both kids said simultaneously.

  Diarmin grinned, and Lenore shook her head. What’s he up to now? At least he’s in a better mood.

  He did avoid most of the low-orbit detection satellites, but just as he exited the atmosphere and fired the main engines, one of the tracking lines on the screen turned red. A loud alert warning was quickly cut off by a transmission.

  “Attention unidentified spacecraft. You are in orbit around Drenon. Please identify yourself and proceed to the primary colony landing pad.”

  Diarmin pressed a button on the console and gave his kids a wink. “Drenon? I thought this was Cirspin.”

  “Negative. Identification please.”

  “Sorry, wrong planet. My bad.” Diarmin turned the yacht’s nose toward space and accelerated. Lenore felt the pressure pushing her into the chair and shook her head again. Showoff.

  A red light began to flash on every console. Quinn was the first to identify it.

  “They are sending a ship.” He put up blips on the viewscreen to show both their yacht and the pursuer.

  “Ha. Too little, too late,” said Diarmin.

  “Ten minutes to intercept,” said Allison.

  “Five minutes to the transspace point,” said Diarmin. He pushed the engines to maximum. “Make that three minutes.”

  Before the three minutes had passed, the red blip that was the planet’s ship slowed and began to turn back toward the planet. Diarmin continued at maximum to the transspace point and with a few taps, they were on the first leg of the trip.

  “See?” he said as he secured the command console. “That’s why we didn’t need to be so careful.” Lenore cleared her throat and gave Diarmin a look.

  “But don’t try that yourself,” he said then lowered his voice to a whisper though Lenore could still hear him just fine.

  “At least until you have a lot of experience.”