The Jolo Vargas Space Opera Series Box Set

by J. D. Oppenheim

  Jolo was torn. If Greeley died because he was a fool then the crew could still live. But he couldn’t bear the thought of dying to save a fool and leaving Katy and the rest to fend for themselves. This was his stupid idea. He kicked at the ice.

  Then he looked up and right over Greeley’s shoulder he saw something. A spark. Blue, maybe greenish. It flashed on, and was gone again.

  “I seen it again, Cap’n!” Greeley yelled.

  Jolo took a few steps towards the spot where he’d seen the flash.

  “More of a spark, now!” yelled Greeley.

  “Yeah. I saw it!” yelled Jolo. Then it flashed again, and Jolo started running with all of his speed. Soon he caught up to Greeley and the blue flashes had become more solid, more real, the closer they got. Jolo was nearly running full out but noticed Greeley falling behind. There was something out there and he was going to find it. Was it humanity? All those trapped by the force that pulled them in from the atmosphere. There must be others here.

  But suddenly the flashes stopped and Jolo slowed down. He looked back and at first couldn’t see Greeley at all. Then slowly but surely the shape of the big man came into view. He was walking, one heavy foot in front of the other. Determined.

  “It stopped,” he said, a few minutes later when he’d made it up to Jolo. He was breathing heavy and parts of his beard were frozen.

  Jolo checked his internal computer for the first time since they started running. The map was there but the marker for the Argossy was gone. They were out of range. Jolo knew they’d been out too long but if they turned for home now they could get back inside the comm’s range and find their way back to the ship before dark. He turned towards the north and held his wrist comm in the air, but nothing. Still no readout.

  “Let’s go back,” he said to Greeley. But Greeley was gone. Still heading south. Greeley was walking so slow and labored it scared Jolo. He didn’t think he could carry the big man home but he’d try if it came down to it.

  “Come on, Greeley!” Jolo yelled. But Greeley didn’t stop. “I’m ‘onna leave you!” Jolo just watched him go. “You gone die out here for what? Bein’ dumb and stubborn gone get you killed. I’m really gonna leave you.” Jolo turned and walked back north a few steps then stopped. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t leave him.

  “Captain!” came a yell. Greeley was about fifty meters off by then. “Captain! I found… I found something.”

  Jolo ran up, and there, face down and half buried in the ice, a blaster a meter or so away from his outstretched arm, was a man.

  Jolo knelt down and tried to turn him over but he was frozen in place. “Don’t fret none, Captain. That man is officially gone gone,” said Greeley.

  Jolo got one of his cold fingers out of his glove and tried to find a pulse but the man’s skin was cold. Together, he and Greeley turned him on his back, his whole body stiff, one hand still reaching out for the blaster that lay off to the side. Jolo picked up the gun. It was old. “Never seen one like that,” said Greeley. “Dang thing ain’t even got a safety or a bio-sensor.”

  “Been modified, too.” There were wires coming out of the handle that connected to a small black box glued to the side. “External power source.”

  Jolo tossed it back on the ground and a second later it flashed blue.

  “It’s a beacon,” said Jolo. Jolo pulled the power source off the handle. “Don’t want to attract any attention. We don’t know if he was lost or was looking for something.”

  “Or being hunted,” said Greeley. They both stood looking at the frozen man, his face full of fear, his eyes wide open.

  The dead man’s jacket was ragged and torn, but on the inside Greeley found an old insignia sewn in to an inner pocket. “Looks like Fed, but different.” It had the same triangular shape as the current Fed markings but this one had a blue circle behind it.

  Jolo pulled up all the Federation graphics on his computer. “We’ve never seen it because it’s before our time. The blue circle was an homage to humanity’s dead planet: Earth.”

  Greeley stood up and stretched his back. “Well. What we gone do with Frosty, here?”

  Jolo pulled out the scanner again and found nothing except a rock formation a few meters off, that, and more of the dark spots Katy had found earlier.

  Greeley sighed. “That was awful anti-climatic.”

  Jolo inspected the man’s clothing and found a small cloth pouch with some dark brown, almost black, rectangular-shaped blocks inside. Other than the jacket, the old blaster and the pouch, the man had nothing on him except old, torn clothes. His boots had been patched with a smooth leather.

  Jolo held up one of the black chunks. “I bet you can eat this or burn it. What you think?” He tossed one to Greeley.

  Greeley sniffed it. “Smells like three-legged arthrocant dung.”

  “You wish. One arthrocant could feed us all for a good long time.”

  “Well, only one way to find out.” Greeley bit off a big chunk and started chewing. His face squinched up a little at first, but then he settled in and swallowed. “Dang, Cap’n. I ain’t never had a bite of shite before, but that’s gotta be close.” He took another bite. “An’ I’m gettin’ a little warmer inside.” He finished the whole thing and took a swig from his water bottle.

  “So you think it’s food.”

  “I wouldn’t’ve eaten the whole thing had I thought otherwise. It’s bio, so I imagine you could burn it in a pinch. But I figure it’s some kind of food. Makes Fed brown dog taste like steak, but it goes down.”

  Jolo took a bite. It was almost like eating dirt, but there was something else. And just like Greeley, he felt warmer, too, after eating it.

  “Why didn’t we pick him up on the scanner?” said Greeley.

  “Too far off, can’t see. Then dead and cold, still can’t see.”

  “You wanna head home?”

  “Naw. We’d freeze in the dark before we got there. Somebody thought it’d be a good idea to run us right out of range.” Jolo looked up at the sky. It had turned a dirty orange, the ice around them brown now instead of gray like before.

  “Well. We dang sure as hell found a… found a…” he kicked the dead man with his boot. “A dead guy. Shite!”

  “That’s somethin’, Greeley. There’s people here. He ain’t the only one I imagine. We gotta camp. There’s a rock formation close by. Barth packed us some gear in case we had to overnight it.”

  “If we freeze in the night I imagine I’ll wake up in hell where it’s nice and warm,” said Greeley.

  Jolo pulled out the thin sheet and two alacyte rods that turned into a makeshift tent. The tent skin felt like the cold suit Merthon made for him when he rescued Barth on the ice harvester.

  Pretty soon they were both inside. Jolo had positioned them under a rock formation thinking there may be some residual heat. But laying there freezing in the tent next to a foul-breathed, grumbling mercenary, the rocks didn’t seem to help. Jolo tossed and turned, his body just cold enough so that sleep would not come.

  Finally he crawled out of the tent and was surprised to see that darkness had come on them quickly. He made his way over to the dead man, feeling with his hands because he couldn’t see a thing in the pitch black, and pulled off his frozen jacket. He shook it off and crept back into the tent.

  “I got us a present,” he said.

  “A dead man’s jacket. You are a pirate with no sense of honor or shame. And right now I love you.”

  “He don’t need it.”

  Jolo spread the jacket out underneath them and after a few moments he could hear Greeley’s breathing go into the steady rhythm of sleep.

  Jolo woke to the sound of a Fed hauler ship landing right on top of them. He jumped up and his head hit the tent and he and Greeley got tangled together and rolled aways. And Jolo, still half asleep and thinking they were going to get crushed by a landing pad of a big ship, finally made it out onto the ice. The big boat roared, it’s engines slowing down it’s decent.
Jolo couldn’t hear himself think. Greeley was next to him yelling, but it was as if no sound was coming out of his mouth. Just the roar. The roar of a ship. Jolo looked into the sky, raised his arms to protect himself.

  But there was no Fed ship coming down on top of them, only brown sky. And the sound began to fade, but instead of rising off into the sky the roar became a deep rumble sinking into the earth. He looked where the dead man had lain the night before and he was gone. Nothing was left but a perfectly round hole where the frozen man had been. The earth rocked again one last time and Jolo nearly fell, but then the roar and the shaking stopped and all was silent again.

  Holes

  Jolo and Greeley stood on the edge of the hole, glistening on the sides, gently curving down into the ice as far as they could see.

  “Where’d Frosty go?” said Jolo.

  “I reckon he’s at the bottom of the hole,” said Greeley. He took a step and fell down onto the ice. “Right leg givin’ me fits this morning, but I’ll be okay. Got some metal in there that don’t agree with the cold. Not to mention the marathon yesterday.”

  “Black alacyte from a BG you blew up?”

  “Naw, Fed alacyte from a scrape with a dirty collections officer on Sarwal a long time ago.”

  Jolo changed the subject. “You didn’t see the ship that made the hole?”

  “The ship?”

  “Thought it was a hauler. An old one before they started going with the new single engine boats.” Jolo grabbed one of the brown blocks from the dead man’s pouch and tossed it down the hole. It slid along the side then followed the curve out of sight. Jolo tilted his head, got his ear close to the hole and listened, but never heard it hit bottom.

  “Weren’t no hauler if it put a hole in the ice,” said Greeley.

  “Yeah, they got diggers on the ice harvesters that can go down into the ice.” Jolo stood staring down into the perfectly smooth hole.

  “Maybe they got ice harvesters here,” said Greeley. “You think whatever it was got the dead dude?”

  “I suppose.” Jolo picked up the tent and started packing it into his bag. They’d made it through the night out in the cold and he didn’t want to push their luck any further. Katy was gonna be pissed. He needed to get back to the Argossy and figure out what to do next.

  “Let’s git out of here,” he said.

  But Greeley had the binocs and was looking off towards the south. “Cap’n. We got company coming and they don’t look very gentlemanly.”

  Three men approached from the south, two with ragged clothes like the dead guy, and each carrying a weapon. One had a blaster, one a long-range energy weapon and one had a steel-tubed rifle with a wooden stock like Betsy.

  “What’s the plan?” said Greeley.

  “They’re heading this way. Probably looking for Frosty. I don’t think they see us yet, so let’s stay low and get out of here.” They both were instinctively squatting low right next to the hole. Greeley started to move but then a shot rang out. The sound reminded Jolo of the Colt, just bigger, deeper. A bullet whizzed past both their heads and they hit the deck. Jolo rolled and had the Colt out and fired off two shots.

  “Too far off, Cap’n. And us with no cover at all against long-range weapons.” Greeley still had the binocs trained on the three men who had picked up the pace.

  “Yeah, just wanted to let them know we’re here.”

  “You just pissed them off ‘cause they picked up the pace. Hope they don’t get too close.” He swung around Betsy then hobbled on his one good leg to kneel next to Jolo, the shotgun pointed in the general direction of the armed men. “’Cause Betsy been itching to party.”

  “How fast can you move?” said Jolo. “They’re gonna pick us off if they get much closer.”

  “You go on. I’ll stay back and take at least two. Save you one.”

  “While I appreciate your consideration—” Another shot rang out and even though Jolo knew the distance was probably too great, his whole body braced. The lead projectile tore a hole in Jolo’s pack--black, frayed cloth sticking up, the impact pulling him back towards the hole a bit. Greeley reached out a big hand and pulled him down.

  “Greeley, I think we better run for it, even with your bum leg.”

  Jolo jumped up, fired two more shots and the man with the blaster fell into the snow. Then he grabbed Greeley by the arm and pulled him away and they started hobbling off.

  “I get the other two!” yelled Greeley. “It ain’t right you gettin’ all the—” but his words were cut off. A bullet caught him in the leg and he spun around and fell down, his head hanging over the hole.

  “Cap’n, you go now!” growled Greeley. “I’ll get the bastards.”

  Jolo took a deep breath. “No.” He fired another shot at the two remaining men and they slowed their approach. “Bastard’s will just pick you off. Stay here and shoot anything in range that ain’t me. Okay?” Greeley nodded. His face was red and sweaty, and he was clutching Betsy like his life depended on it.

  The man with the long-range weapon took another shot and missed. Instantly Jolo jumped up and started running straight for the two men. Why would they shoot first without even a word? Anger fueled Jolo and he covered the ground quickly and was within a hundred meters before the man with the old kinetic weapon had a chance to slide another bullet into the chamber. Jolo took another shot running full out and the man with the big gun fell. At that the other man turned and ran, but Jolo closed the ground and shot him, too.

  Jolo stood over the dead man. He wore the same mishmash of ragged clothes as the man in the ice. Except this one’s jacket had an Intrepid X61 patch on the shoulder. Jolo queried his computer. Intrepid X61 was a core world transport company, primarily hauling biomass between Arkus and Formalut in the early days of the expansion. The company was merged into the new Federation in 2382.

  Jolo picked up the big gun. It had a worn, wooden stock just like Betsy and a long barrel with an old-style glass lens scope and a homemade silencer. He put his right hand down near the trigger and his palm fit perfectly. He liked the feel of it: the smooth wood and the rough cross-hatched sections that improved his grip. He searched the man’s clothes and found another pouch of the brown food and also a box of bullets for the gun. He put both into his pack, held up the rifle and aimed at an imaginary Jaylen, then slung it over his shoulder and headed back to Greeley.

  He found the big man sitting upright near the hole staring straight ahead like he was meditating, but his eyes were open. Jolo got close and Greeley gave him a strange look. Jolo immediately went for the Colt, but it was too late.

  “Put the gun away or the big man dies,” said a voice from within the hole.

  Jolo slowly lowered his gun as a man jumped out of the hole onto the hardpack, a blaster aimed at Greeley’s head the whole time. “Put it on the ground,” said the man. Jolo thought of taking a shot but the man was behind Greeley and Jolo didn’t want to shoot his own man. The man inched over a hair and that was all Jolo needed. He dove to the right and had clear line of sight, pulled the trigger and caught the man in the arm.

  The shot tore through the man’s white jacket, spinning him around. He dropped the gun, and for a moment, Jolo thought it was over. Jolo picked up his blaster and threw it. The man fell off to one side clutching at his bleeding arm and groaning in pain. Jolo ran to Greeley who was clearly not himself. His eyes were unfocused and his head lolled to one side.

  “What did you do to him?” yelled Jolo.

  “Helped him,” said the man, blood dripping down off his wound, onto the ice.

  “Is that what you did to the man? Did you help him, too?”

  “The man in the ice did his part for God and country.”

  “A man disappears down an ice hole and you laugh?”

  “That was no disappearance. The was simple biology. It was the correct thing at the correct time.” He paused and took a few ragged breaths. “Just as you two will serve your purpose here as well.” The man moaned, still clutch
ing at his arm. Jolo glanced back down at Greeley and then suddenly the man jumped up, and with his good arm, pointed a small handgun at Greeley. “He will serve first.” Jolo had no time to unholster the gun so he shoved Greeley right off the edge and into the hole. He slid down out of sight and now the gun was pointed at Jolo.

  Jolo cursed himself for being careless. This man had bested him twice now. Jolo wondered if he could get the Colt in his hand before the man could fire. “Don’t even try. You’d be dead in short order.” The man stood as if he hadn’t just taken a shot to the arm, his breathing suddenly slow and steady and his eyes cold.

  “You don’t care if I am dead so why wait?” said Jolo.

  “Very perceptive. Your usefulness to me does not depend on whether you yet draw another breath of air into your lungs or not. Dead is best for an offworld male. You cannot propagate. And I have seed.” He grabbed his crotch and laughed.

  He was dressed differently than the others. His jacket was white and fit properly. It was made of a supple leather and wasn’t torn, except for the small bullet hole from the Colt. The man was short but well built and had cold, black eyes.

  The man paused for a moment in thought. Then he raised his head and Jolo knew it was game over. The man’s good arm started up, the small handgun just visible under the sleeve of the white jacket. Jolo rolled left and the empty hole swallowed him up and he fell down. He pulled the Colt and fired a shot upwards as the lip of the hole receded.

  Jolo saw the man’s head pop up over the edge, but by then he was too far down and the curve of the hole took him away from the man in the white jacket, away from the ice and the orange sky above. And he fell for some time, sliding on his back, fighting just to hold onto the Colt, hoping he could land on his feet at the end. Suddenly he wasn’t thinking of saving the Federation. Or guns. He just wanted to live. And kill the man in the white jacket.

  And see Katy again.

  Little Richard