by CJ Williams
“Alyssa copy. Cleared direct to Point Gleam for approach to Armstrong Station. Grandfather Gus is standing right beside me; I’ll let him know.” Esther glanced at Gus with a smug smile. “Told you so. You’re famous now.”
The first spectators showed up almost immediately. Rich playboys with fancy yachts executed hull-straining intercepts on Alyssa so they could come in close for a look of the tall ship.
Gus grumbled about their shenanigans. “I thought they were told to give us a wide berth.”
“They were,” Esther said. “But as long as they don’t actually impede our way or make us take evasive action, the military won’t take any action. Most of these kids’ families have an attorney on retainer for just this sort of thing. They would rather subsidize an entire law firm than pay a fine. It’s part of the game.”
The fancy yachts, almost all much larger than Alyssa, pulled up on the beam, bay doors wide open with men and women inside, many of them scantily clad, shouting and waving. Of course, the sailors loved it and responded in kind. Gus thought they might lose one or two crewmen, as shouted invitations had gone both ways.
Fortunately, after a few hours the squares had been filled. The fun-seekers had notched their personal bucket lists and zoomed off into the cosmos. They would return to their gilded lives and brag they had actually seen Alyssa up close and personal.
Gus went up to the poop deck to enjoy a moment of solitude. For now, space around them was empty. Alyssa and her crew floated alone through the solar system toward their visible but still distant home sun. They passed the orbital plane of Neptune. The planet itself was not in sight; it was about a quarter of its orbit away from their position. The same would be true for Uranus and Jupiter, but Saturn would be visible as they cruised by.
A movement drew his gaze to starboard. Well, perhaps they were not entirely alone. Another tourist was coming into view. For a moment Gus considered charging admission. Let the kiddies come on board and see the fearsome Captain Gus and his band of dancing sailors.
The approaching vessel became two and then three. Alyssa had become quite an attraction. Four more yachts came into view. They approached almost in formation, like a squadron of spacecraft on a mission.
They were still too far away to identify. All he could tell was it looked like a lot of people with too much time on their hands.
“Grandpa?” Hannah called. “You want some coffee?”
“Be right there,” he said, descending to the quarterdeck. “Thanks.” He accepted the warm mug with gratitude. To Gus, the navy coffee was excellent, but it seemed he was the only one aboard who thought so. “Where’s Kyoko?”
“She’s in the hold doing laundry.”
Gus chuckled. The washer and dryer had been another navy addition to Alyssa’s amenities.
Ingrained habit drew his gaze upward to check the sails, making sure they were sheeted properly. A shout of laughter over some joke echoed up from the gun deck. The navy crew members were below having lunch. At sub-light speed, it was not necessary to keep the sails in constant trim. Gus continued down to the waist.
Something about the well-orchestrated motion of the approaching yachts drew his gaze again to the sightseers. They were already much closer, driving toward the galleon at too high a speed. The sight irritated him slightly. He wasn’t in the mood to play chicken with a bunch of juvenile boaters.
He counted nine craft in all and muttered a curse under his breath. A gaggle of drunken youngsters racing around the Alyssa in high-powered yachts was a recipe for disaster.
But then, as they drew closer, he felt his hackles rise. The vessels were Necker Craft business yachts. It was the same model yacht he had seen once before.
With a fatalistic certainty Gus realized the pirates had returned in force, and thanks to Alyssa’s hack of their first AI, he knew why. The idiots wanted the first aid containers.
*.*.*.*
Carol Cartwright glared at the Studio 37 camera as it moved in for a closer shot. She only agreed to be on the show because she wanted to share the update from Gus the night before.
Russell had a perplexed expression. “You’re saying that Stephan Bullock is a drug runner?”
Carol sighed. “No, Russ. That’s not what I said at all. Cassie, you explain it to him.”
“Okay. Russ, it’s simple. Bullock raided the archeological site because of…I mean…” Cassie gave Carol a puzzled look. “I don’t think I understand either. What did you say?”
“Let’s start over,” Carol said patiently. “Maybe it will help if we go back to Gus’s encounter with the pirates. Remember when the video feed died right at the start of the attack and everyone thought they were dead?”
“Except you,” Cassie said. “You swore he was still alive.”
“That’s correct, I did. I just always believed that he was still out there, trying to get back. What none of us knew was that Alyssa kept recording that entire attack. We didn’t see the rest of the encounter until Gus and the girls joined up with the navy. Once the military restored their communication system, Alyssa sent everything that happened in the intervening weeks to Gus’s blog.”
“That’s right,” Russell said. “All of a sudden a ton of new video showed up. Our people spent an entire week going through all that material. But I didn’t see anything about drugs.”
“I know that,” Carol said. “I’m the one who talked about drugs. Gus told me about it last night during our nightly call. We can do that now.”
Russell looked disappointed. “You mean there’s stuff we’re not getting?”
Carol smiled. “Of course. Even on the island, Gus had Nineteen send a couple of private messages to my email.”
“Like what?” Cassie asked.
“Like someday, maybe I’ll tell you. But that’s not the point of discussion at the moment.”
“Okay, okay,” Russell said. “Then explain what you mean.”
Carol took a deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is that Alyssa was able to hack that pirate ship’s AI. She downloaded everything out of its brain, which included a lot of communication directly between Bullock and those henchmen.”
“And what did they say?” Cassie asked.
“That the pirates raided the planet because they were trying to find the secret to Alyssa’s star drive. If you recall, Gus talked about it a couple of times. He said the sails were made of some kind of exotic material. Remember?”
“I do,” Russ said. “I was curious what that meant, but he never said. Is that what they found?”
“Not exactly,” Carol said. “Bullock’s men did find an exotic material, but it has nothing to do with the star drive. When the pirate ship was destroyed, do you remember the medical containers floating out of its cargo hold? Gus needed medicine and pulled them aboard Alyssa.”
“I do remember that scene,” Cassie said. “It was in the extra videos you just mentioned. Hannah opened them trying to find medicine because Kyoko was injured. But they were full of junk.”
“Not exactly junk,” Carol said. “They were full of Acevedos relics, and one of the containers did, in fact, contain what might be called an exotic material. They were small packages about the size of a stick of butter. At first, Gus thought it was drugs and that these guys were drug runners.”
Russell nodded. “So that’s why you’re saying that Bullock is a drug kingpin or something like that?”
“No,” Carol insisted. “You’re not letting me finish. It turns out that it wasn’t drugs at all. It’s totally different.”
“Then what is it?” Russell asked, getting exasperated.
“It’s spice…for cooking.”
“Spice? What, you mean like rosemary and thyme?”
“Yes! Alyssa knew exactly what it was. The Acevedos considered it a precious commodity. Gus tried it on some of their freeze-dried food and said it’s the greatest stuff in the world. He’s bringing it back.” She looked at Russell with a mischievous smile. “He told me to set up a company
owned jointly by him and the two girls. He thinks it will be worth a fortune.”
Cassie laughed and Russell shook his head, saying, “Please tell me you’re pulling my leg.”
“I’m not,” Carol said. “The irony would be funny if it wasn’t so tragic. In my opinion, Bullock should be arrested and tried for murder.”
“I agree,” Russell said. “So does this Bullock guy know he killed a bunch of scientists for an old family recipe?”
Carol shook her head. “No one knew until last night when Gus told me. He’s been a little preoccupied. While we were talking, I said I’d take him out for a spicy Thai dinner when he got back, and that prompted him to tell me the story.”
Cassie looked at Camera Two and said, “Carol won’t say so, but our reporting is that her law firm and Cartwright Industries have established a trust for the families of those scientists.”
Carol was perturbed by Cassie’s announcement but let it go. It was true that by the time Gus had finished burying the scientists and gathering up their personal possessions, he felt an obligation toward those family members left behind. The food and medicine at the research site had made a big difference in his life, and in fact, had saved Kyoko’s, so he wanted to return the favor. At Gus’s direction, she’d set up a trust to make sure no one lost their homes and that any kids got an education.
Carol said, “The main point is that my husband told me to keep going after those responsible. That’s why we’re giving everything we have to law enforcement.”
“Good for you guys,” Russell said definitively. “I hope Stephan Bullock gets what coming to him.”
*.*.*.*
Bullock stood in the open door of his yacht, more determined than ever to get what was coming to him. And against all the odds, the prize was once again within his grasp. He looked through his binoculars.
The familiar figure of Grandfather Gus was leaning against the galleon’s starboard gunwale. He didn’t look as ragged, but it was the same guy. Bullock heaved a sigh of relief. Over the past two years he, like everyone else, had watched videos of the old man. But he quit watching during the last two months because he’d been on the run.
When Carey’s last message first came in, Bullock could not believe the luck. Carey had actually discovered Grandfather and the famous Acevedos ship.
But instead of dying as the old man should have, Gus took Carey apart, along with a full crew of very expensive muscle. All of them murdered by a senior citizen and a couple of bimbos!
Had that one yacht been the only cost, Bullock would not have cared. The real damage was the video of Chicksdigit. He’d freaked out when he saw video clips on news channels showing the closeup of the ship’s name. The paper trail was convoluted, but someone would inevitably connect him to the registration.
Instead of waiting around and hoping for the best, Bullock wrote off the Wheelers Bright operation and left. It was a setback to be sure, but he had no choice. And besides, that’s what backups were for. There were no links between his name and the setup on Jupiter’s moon. He sent an encrypted message to his Titan operation to get ready for his arrival. It was time for Plan B.
One thing was certain, Gus was a survivor. Bullock had a feeling that sooner or later the old man would show up on the standard route between Eris Station and Armstrong. He’d be almost home, and his guard would be down. All Bullock had to do was wait.
He looked at Rudy, his new second-in-command. “See, I told you we would find him here. I’m going to enjoy this.”
“I don’t know,” Rudy replied, examining the approaching prize. “I keep asking myself how he took out Carey and his ship. It’s alien tech, man. Who knows what he’s got?”
“Everyone knows,” Bullock scoffed. “He has an old cannon and two girls. Even if those girls know a little kung fu, Carey was an idiot to lose to them. Are you kidding me? If he had done his job, that ship would be ours already!”
Of course, that would never happen now. Not in a solar system full of military. But there was still a way to make it all work out. He would smoke in, kill everyone, grab the container with the star drive material, and get out. Even if the galleon got off a mayday call, it would take half an hour before anyone could respond.
By then, the old ship would be nothing but dust. Bullock had no intention of leaving such a competitive advantage for others. Instead, he would be well on his way out of the solar system, back to Wheelers Bright with a new name and a new organization. Thank God for frontier societies where it was easy to get lost.
The old man stood on his deck like he didn’t have a care in the world. To be honest, it was a beautiful spacecraft, and it appeared Gus had put some effort into cleaning the thing up. It even had fresh paint. Bullock squinted at the antennas. Had he not noticed those before? Were they new?
His blood pressure started rising again. “Get ready to board,” he shouted at the men around him. “I’m going to kill that bastard.”
“I don’t know about this,” Rudy repeated. “Something about this doesn’t seem right.”
“What’s the matter with you?” Bullock growled. “We’ve got a damn armada here.” He waved at the eight boats around them, each with a full crew of armed men. “You want me to draw you a picture? It’s not that hard.” He hefted his machine gun as though demonstrating to a student. “Like this,” he said. He pointed the weapon at the man on the ship and pulled the trigger.
*.*.*.*
Gus felt his hackles rise and he dropped to the deck. There was no sound of gunfire; just the splattering of metallic impacts and the bullets creating sparks against the gunwale and mainmast. Each retort was like a ball-peen hammer on a sixteen-penny nail.
Hannah saw him fall and stepped out of the navigation room onto the quarterdeck, but he shouted at her frantically, “Get back! It’s the pirates!” She jumped back inside and peered out of the window.
The noise belowdecks had gone quiet. Gus didn’t want any of the crew to come up on the main deck and get blasted away. Flat on his belly, he crawled to the open main hatch and slithered over to drop onto the gun deck.
“Captain?” Hawkins looked at him with surprised eyes. They had all heard the strange noise above. “Did something break?”
“Where’s the Chief?” Gus demanded.
“Here, sir,” Rodgers called out, coming up from the lower hold.
“Chief, they’re back. And they’ve brought company.”
“The pirates?” Hawkins asked.
“That’s right. And there’s a lot of them.”
A murmur ran through the men. Everyone had seen the most recent videos of Gus’s encounter. But suddenly it was no longer someone else’s blog. It had just turned real.
Jackson came thumping down the back stairs. “Captain? Are those…?”
“Hannah and Kyoko are okay. I don’t know about Esther.”
“I just left her; she’s fine.”
“Alyssa,” Gus said loudly. “We need to go to lightspeed. Now!”
“Unable,” Alyssa replied. “The star sail is down.”
Gus cursed. “Siegler, go tell Hannah to hold course for the moment. Don’t get shot.”
“Aye, sir.” Sigler disappeared up the stairs.
Gus turned to Rogers. “I want four crews to load every gun we have and then stand by.”
“Four gun crews. Aye, sir.” Rogers barked out his orders. “Martinez, take Kovis and Coleman on the port guns. Wilson, Gillespie, and Goddard on the starboard. Peavey, get those powder bags up here, man. Move it!”
Gus looked at Hawkins. “You’re the gun deck lieutenant; standby for fire calls. And have someone break out the muskets. I want everyone to have a firearm.”
“Aye, sir,” Hawkins responded. “Hernandez! Fisher! Report!” He sent the men below to retrieve the rifles.
Gus added, “Chief, better tell the doc to prepare her surgery. And have Mercer start radioing for help. I don’t know how fast anyone can get here, but let’s not waste any time.”
&nbs
p; Rogers bellowed for Doc Luciana, and Gus peeked out one of the gun ports at the approaching yachts. They were still several thousand feet away. Another ninety seconds and they’d be alongside.
Muzzle flashes appeared from the center boat, and slugs slammed into the hull with loud chunks. Jackson came hurrying down the steps, and Gus motioned him over.
“We’re way over-gunned and over-manned. I counted nine boats out there, and each one must have four or five guys, maybe more. They can literally run circles around us. I just hope to God they don’t have any really heavy weaponry or we’re dead.”
“Tell us what to do, boss,” Jackson said.
“If we’re lucky, they think it’s just me and the girls. That gives us one chance to surprise them so let’s make it count. Chief, keep your best men on the cannons; everyone else start loading the muskets. Hold fire until I give the order. Got it?”
“Sir!” Rogers and Jackson chorused.
Gus moved out of the way as Martinez and his crew pushed by to load the next cannon. Kovis and Coleman grabbed the breeches and yanked the gun back while Martinez rammed a charge down. Martinez looked up at Gus. “Double shot, sir?”
“Tempting,” Gus replied. “But let’s not experiment. However, you might put some chain in the forward culverins. Might take out one or two bandits.”
Martinez grinned at the suggestion. “Aye, sir.”
Peavey and Hernandez showed up loaded down with full powder cartridges. They ran down the center, placing extra bags in the gunner’s chests behind each cannon.
Hawkins’s crew raced up from below, each man carrying a half-dozen muskets. They handed them off to others and hurried back to the hold. Hawkins established an assembly line for loading and stacking the rifles along the center beam.
Another fusillade of automatic weapons fire ricocheted in through a gun port. Mercer swore from the forward deck.
“Sir,” Mercer shouted. “We lost our radios. That one took out the antennas.”
They needed a few more minutes to finish loading the weapons. Gus grabbed two muskets and ran up the steps to the main deck.
