Exodus: Tales of The Empire: Book 2: Beasts of the Frontier. (15 page)

Katlyn took it
no better than he did.  “It was a stupid thing to do,” she said, tears in her
eyes.  “But to kill her like that.  And the baby.”

“If they let
anyone get away with it, they wouldn’t be able to stop unlicensed
reproduction.”

“You sound like
you’re defending the assholes,” yelled Katlyn, glaring.

“I’m not
defending them.  Hell, they just took my sister away from me.  I’m just saying
how things are, and how they will stay, as long as we remain here.”

“Your poor
father.  God, what he must be going through.”

And she
didn’t take the hint about remaining here.  Maybe we need to pack up and move
to the frontier.  Hell, the Fleet protects it, and there are troops on every
planet.  Maybe not as many as here, but enough to keep the pirates away, and
that’s really the only worry we would have out there. 
“Have you thought
about leaving New Detroit?” he asked her.

“Not really. 
Maybe for a developing world.  At least they have some civilization.”

And a couple
of hundred million people who have already gotten all the good stuff.
  “We
would do better on a frontier world.  Get some land, turn it into more land. 
Maybe even be rich someday, and have lots of kids.”

“And I heard
that frontier worlds are dangerous,” said Katlyn.  “Almost no medical
facilities, and everyone walks around with guns.  No, I want no part of them.”

After Katlyn
went to bed Cornelius tapped into the net and routed some vids to the trivee,
letting it immerse him in another world.  He started with a map of the Empire,
looking at how the worlds were situated.   Of course the center of it all was
the Supersystem, the eight stars in orbit around a black hole, each with two or
more habitable worlds.  And all with the same restrictions as New Detroit.  
And out from it in a globe to two hundred light years, the core worlds,
ninety-eight worlds in the same class as New Detroit, all populated to the
legal limit.  And out from them, the twelve sectors, all of them with some
contact with an alien polity.  Sectors I and IV with the least contact, meaning
they were also the least likely to be invaded.  And ten thousand developed,
developing and frontier worlds in those sectors, with more being opened all the
time, or terraformed to be compatible with human habitation.

Next he scanned
down a list of frontier planets in sector IV, looking for those with low enough
population that they would be considered true pioneers.  One on the list caught
his eye, a world with less than a hundred fifty thousand inhabitants, that had
been colonized for about thirty years. 
So they know enough about it that
there shouldn’t be any surprises.  And it’s on the short list of planets under
consideration for a Fleet base, which means more security than most frontier
worlds.   Sestius IV.  Doesn’t even have an Archduke yet, only an appointed
Governor.

He linked into
the trivee and let a vid of the planet fill his room.  The small city loomed
ahead, then the farmlands around it, with actual livestock. 
Real food
, he
thought. 
Not just tank grown protein and factory processed vegetables.
 
The vid moved out, and he was surrounded by a lush jungle, then a plane, with
massive creatures grazing on the grass like ground covering or the trees at the
edge of the open area.

He finally
delinked after what seemed like mere minutes, before he realized that hours had
gone by. 
I don’t have to work tomorrow
, he thought, remembering the
images he had been immersed in. 
And that place doesn’t look so bad,
especially if it becomes a Fleet base.  Now, I just need to talk Katlyn into
it.

*    
*     *

This day they
were hunting bigger game, the twelve ton Hexa-Buffalo, the beasts that were one
of the reasons the King Tigers grew so big.  A lot of people thought herbivores
were the gentler animals, spending their days as they did cropping grass or
watching for predators.  Cornelius knew better.  He had hunted these beasts
before, and if given his choice he would rather have gone after the tigers any
day.  Again he carried a military grade particle beam rifle, an emergency
weapon for the possibility that one of the noble born asses might botch his
shot.

“You be careful
out there,” his father had told him before the party split up, his father with
the other men who would approach from downwind, using their scent to move the
herd in the direction of the shooters.

“You too,” said
Cornelius, giving his dad a hug.  He was the last family that the young man
had, or at least the last genetic relation that actually knew who he was.

Humphrey was on this
hunt, still wanting that big trophy head to mount in a study, so he could lie
to his friends about how brave he was.  There were two other nobles, including
the Duke himself.  Cornelius knew that the Duke was a skilled hunter who could
be depended on to stand his ground and make a good shot.  Still, he wished the
Marine Captain was taking the place of either Humphrey or the other noble, a
young man whose frightened eyes tried to look everywhere at once.

“There they
are,” whispered the Duke, coming up beside Cornelius.  He nodded back, having
already spotted the herd, including a magnificent bull, as large as any that
the young man had ever seen.

“Who takes the
first shot, my Lord?” asked Cornelius, watching as the herd began to move their
way with a lowing sound.

“Let Baronet
Kroger have it,” said the Duke, motioning at Humphrey, who was looking wide
eyed at the large animals, sweat pouring down his face.

“Yes, my Lord.” 
Cornelius made his way over to the Baronet, then motioned for the man to squat
down while he went to a knee.  “That big bull is yours, my Lord.  Make sure
your weapon is set to maximum accel, and only fire when I tell you.”

“I know what I
am doing,” said the fat man.  “Don’t tell your betters what they must do.”

“Again, my
Lord.  Only fire when I tell you to.  Those are the Duke’s orders, not mine. 
If you have a problem with them, I will ask him to come over and tell you
himself.”

“Insolent
swine,” whispered the man, trying to look fierce as he turned his eyes on
Cornelius, and only managing to look scared.

“Here he comes,”
whispered Cornelius, looking over his own scope at the big male. 
He’s
fifteen tons if he’s a kilo
, he thought. 
Too good a trophy for this
bastard.  And I don’t want him too close, in case this son of a bitch doesn’t bring
him down.
  “Fire,” he said to the Baronet.  Nothing happened, and he saw
the big bull tearing at the grass with all six hooves, then start trotting
their way.  “Fire, damn you,” yelled Cornelius, taking his eye off his scope
and glaring over at the noble.

Humphrey pulled
the trigger, and Cornelius knew something was wrong by the way the rifle
recoiled.  It was a high end hunting rifle, and had grabber units built into it
to take up some of the recoil, but still should have pushed the man back more
than it did.  The man fired again, and the rifle again barely bucked.

“What the hell
did you do?” yelled Cornelius, pulling the rifle hard out of the man’s hands. 
He looked in disbelief at the velocity setting, which was the minimum the rifle
was able to send a shot down range.

Another round
cracked by at high velocity, and Cornelius looked up and out to see a cow by
the bull go down to her knees, while the bull and the rest of the herd turned
tail and took off at a run.  More shots, and some other beasts were hit, none
hard enough to bring down.  Cornelius brought up his weapon and tried to get a
shot at the bull who was leading the herd toward his father.  But there was too
much dust, too many other darting forms.  He took a shot and killed a smaller
bull, but only a kill of the dominant male could stop them from the charge.

“Goddammit,” he
yelled, jumping up and running after the herd, fearing the worst.  The herd
charged to the wood line and in, taking cover, all but the dominant bull, which
was stomping and ramming his horns into something on the ground.

“Good God, no,”
yelled Cornelius, seeing his father’s rifle on the ground near the bloody mess
that in no way resembled a human being.  He brought his rifle up and shot the
bull, a narrow beam that burned a hole through the hindquarters and out the
chest, dropping the beast.  He stumbled up to look down on the bloody meat,
splintered bones, and torn rags that had been his father, tears rolling down
his cheeks.  The other men in the beating party gathered around, looks of
disbelief on their faces.  The elder Walborski had been a fixture of the hunts
for decades, and to be taken in such a manner was beyond comprehension.

The Duke and the
other men came up a minute later.  The Duke looked like he was about to cry as
well.  But Baronet Kroger only had eyes for the big bull.  “My trophy,” said
the man, all smiles.  “He will look fine mounted on my study wall.”

Cornelius
turned, grief becoming rage in a second.  He walked over to the man and slammed
his fist into the fat face, knocking the Baronet to the ground.  “This was your
fault,” he screamed at the man.  “If you had checked your rifle and made sure
that it was set right, this bull would have been killed.  But you didn’t have
the brains for that, you stupid son of a bitch.  I’m going to…”

Cornelius
stepped forward, then brought his other leg back for a kick.  Two of the
beaters grabbed his arms and held him back, while the Baronet held his hands
over his face, trying to protect himself.

“Calm down son,”
said the Duke, putting a hand on Cornelius’ shoulder.  “This is a tragedy, but
it will do you no good to get violent.”

“I will have you
thrown in jail,” yelled the Baronet, pushing himself up to a sitting position. 
“You assaulted me, and I will see that you serve time in a labor camp.”

Cornelius pulled
at the men holding his arms, but they were strong and would not give him an
inch.

“Go home,
Cornelius,” said the Duke, patting him on the shoulder.  “I will make sure that
your father’s remains are brought in for cremation.”

“I want him
arrested, now,” yelled Kroger, getting to his feet.

“Don’t worry
about jail,” said the Duke.  “You’ve been through enough.”

Cornelius nodded
and walked away, still steaming inside with a murderous rage. 
Someday I’ll
see that son of a whore by himself, and he’ll die
.  Even as he thought that
he knew it would never happen.  Men like Kroger, the privileged, were always
protected.  The best he could hope for was to be stunned by security and taken
to jail.

*    
*     *

“You no longer
work here,” said the shift leader as Walborski tried to go to his station.

“What do you
mean?” asked Cornelius in shock.  He had taken a couple of shifts off to attend
his father’s funeral, then set his dad’s affairs in order.  But that was all
according to company policy, and had been approved ahead of time.

“I’m not really
sure what happened, Walborski,” said the shift leader.  “It came down from
management that you were no longer to be allowed on the line.  I guess that
means you were terminated.”

“Terminated?”
said Walborski, still in shocked disbelief.

“I am really
sorry, Walborski,” said the foreman, shaking his head.  “It’s not up to me,
and,  I guess I shouldn’t say anymore.”  The foreman turned away, still shaking
his head.

He’s worried
that he might lose his job
, thought Cornelius as he turned away. 
And I
really can’t blame him.  This isn’t a free society.  We’re only free to cut our
own throats with our actions.

Later he tried
to get in touch with the Duke, but was turned away.  Calls to the employment
services did no better, and he soon found that he was not employable on this
planet.  And then all the money in his and his father’s accounts disappeared,
and he knew that the enemy he had made on that hunt was getting him, and he had
no way to get back at the Noble bastard.

*    
*     *

“What’s wrong?”
asked Cornelius as he came in the door of the apartment and saw Katlyn sitting
on the couch, crying, the big cat in her lap.  He had been fruitlessly
searching for a job, taking public transport now that the aircar was gone.  And
the answer had been the same at every venue.  He had the skills that robotics
factories were looking for, but he had a black mark on his record.

“The apartment
manager informed me that we have to move out by the end of the week,” said his
wife, tears rolling down her face.  “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know. 
It looks like I’m sunk on this world.  All I have to look forward to is a life
on the dole.”

He thought for a
moment and looked at his wife.  “I’ll give you a divorce if you want.  So you
can find, you know, someone with some prospects.”

Katlyn stood up
and put her arms around him.  “I don’t want someone with prospects.  I want
you.”

“Then I don’t
think we can stay here,” he said, looking into her eyes.  “I wouldn’t be satisfied
just existing.”

“And where would
we go?”

“To the
frontier,” he said, a smile crossing his face.  “To the land of opportunity. 
What say we give it a try.  How would you like to become a Marquise?”

“I’ll go
anywhere you do,” she said, sitting back down and stroking the cat.  “As long
as we can find Big Tom here a good home before we go.”

*    
*     *

The freighter
didn’t look like much, even to someone who had never been in space before.  It
was a hyper V tramp, thought to be good enough to haul prospective colonists to
sector transshipment points, where they could be loaded up on other ships to
get to their final destinations.

Cornelius could
tell that Katlyn was terrified as she looked at the cryo chamber that was to be
her resting place for the next four and a half months.  It would be transferred
to another ship with her in it.