Rise the Renegade (Rork Sollix Book 1) (25 page)

Rork kept his head low and pushed forward, his calves aching from the exertion in the full gee of gravity — unnecessary, sentimental frippery to remind the customers of Earth.

“Where is the church?” Mary Ellen asked.

Rork stopped short. “We’re not getting married in a church. Forget it.”

“We don’t have a lot of time. My mother always wanted that for me. And it has to be something LDS-approved or even remotely Mormon, so—”

“It’s going to be a civil contract. And that’s the end of it.”

“But—”

Rork summoned his harshest glare and swiped a finger millimeters from her nose. “There’s a Vericom across the street. Go in there and make your call. There’s a notary register one block down, then turn left and it’s on your right. I will meet you there in five minutes.”

“But—”

“But, first, stop at the drug store and get me their strongest pain pills. Everything hurts!” Rork limp-jogged away from her. The crowds cleared. Two sheriff’s deputies in their tan one-piece uniforms and black boots approached him. Each carried a paralyzer baton on his hip. They scanned the crowd. He took a right down an alley and hid behind a trash bin.

The deputies passed him, then stopped and looked back, hands on hips. Their mouths moved but their legs didn’t. One glanced down the alley and Rork pulled back, his legs pushed up into his chest. The smell of rotting vegetables brought bile to this throat. He squeezed his nostrils shut between two fingers.

Footsteps scraped near him and the bin opened with a metallic shriek. Rork got into a squat and prepared himself for a fight, his hands at the ready in front of him. He left Mankin’s multi-tool in his pocket. These were good people. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. Escape scenarios swirled in his mind and his heart pounded in his chest.

His earcom activated. “Your attention, please. We have word that the renegade Rork Sollix, sought for his alleged brutal attack on Luna City, is here at Port Vantage. We have no reason to believe that he has violent intentions. But we do have a responsibility through our membership in SysPol to take him into custody pending possible extradition and trial. If you see Rork Sollix, please notify one of our deputies. He may be wearing a pilot’s helmet or other disguise. Thank you for shopping at Port Vantage.”

The bin lid slammed shut and the footsteps moved away. The crowd erupted in chatter.

So much for my disguise.
Rork ripped the helmet off, dropped it behind him and stretched his facial muscles.
Oh, that feels good.

He checked his watch. He’d never make it to the notary. The moment he showed his face, the deputies would be on to him.

He peeked out from behind the bin. The deputies were gone. He crept to the corner and looked out. The crowds were thinning. People were scared. He sprinted back towards the Vericom.

Mary Ellen stepped out and he grabbed her arm.

“You got it?” he asked.

She nodded, confused. “Where is everyone?”

“You heard the announcement. I need those pain pills.”

“I was on the phone. What—?”

He pulled her back towards the ship. “That clerk reported us. We have to go. The pain pills.”

She stopped and ripped her arm away from him. “We’re not going anywhere until we get married. And they were out of painkillers.”

Rork shook his head and sighed. “Really, I mean—” He put his nose to hers. “You want to stay behind?”

She relented and they ran.

“You’re going too fast!” she yelled.

They reached the corner and turned. A dozen landing platforms hovered around the edges of the market complex. Fast-moving lines formed and deputies examined travelers’ faces as they passed.

Rork caught Mankin’s eyes. He held his hand up in the shape of a gun and pumped his arm. Mankin’s eyebrows rose.

“Get behind me,” Rork said to Mary Ellen.

Rork ran up between the lines and body-slammed a preoccupied female deputy. She hit the ground and he jumped over her. Mankin tossed a laser rifle. Rork caught it in mid-air, pivoted and aimed at the remaining crowd.

“Everybody down!” Rork fired a shot over their heads. It impacted the welcome sign and it crashed to the ground in a shower of sparks.

The crowd screamed and threw themselves to the ground. Rork focused on one deputy, then another, then another. The first disarmed, his hands in the air. The second followed suit but the third stared at him, his eyes hidden behind oversized reflective goggles.

“Kneel!” Rork stepped in and took the man’s weapon.

“I kneel for no man.” The deputy shook his head. He wore an old-style sheriff’s hat. It was dirt brown, with a wide circular brim upturned at the sides, a yellow star up front and dents on the sides and top of the crown.

Rork’s eyes darted from one moving person to another. “I can respect that. Just don’t try anything. I don’t want to kill you.”

“Put the gun down and let us take you in.” He took his goggles off and pushed his hat back.

The man’s forehead was a grid of scars, his icy blue eyes knew no fear. His mouth was a steel cable. This was the legendary Elfego Zapata, the most feared sheriff and most successful bounty hunter in the system.

“Quiet!” Rork yelled. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just need to get out of here.” His knees shook.

“You monster! You killed half a million on Luna!” a voice said from the crowd.

Something crushed inside Rork’s chest.
It wasn’t my fault.
He wanted to scream it at them. They didn’t have the facts and they probably didn’t want them anyway.

But he did bear some responsibility. Not that they would understand. They weren’t ready to hear it. Would Luna City follow him for the rest of his life? He didn’t have time to think about it.

“I need a ship—” Rork started.

The crowd groaned and some of them booed him.

“—to save a girl.”

“Liar! Murderer! Thief” the crowd screamed.

Rork hardened his jaw. He aimed the weapon at an older man dressed in purple. “Give me the keys to your ship.”

“No,” the man said.

“Please.”

“You don’t want to do that, son,” Sheriff Zapata said. “I know your reputation. This is not your style.”

The man crossed his arms. Rork put the gun to his forehead and reached a hand into his robes.

“I really don’t want to be doing this,” Rork said.

“Neither do I.”

“Rork, we gotta go!” Mankin yelled.

Where are the damned keys?
Rork grabbed the man by the shoulder and pulled him forward. “You’ll have to come with us. Hands up. No tricks. I will kill you.”

“The ship won’t work if I’m dead,” the man said.

Rork pushed him ahead toward the ships, one hand on the back of the man’s neck, the other holding the rifle barrel against the back of his head. “Take me to your ship.”
 

R
ORK
, Z
ERO
, Sarita and Mary Ellen rested on a padded, C-shaped bench that curved three-quarters of the way around a circular table just outside the bridge of the
SS Prime Mover
.

Mary Ellen fidgeted. Zero shot Rork a disapproving glance. Rork massaged his chin.

The owner of the sleek craft sat on the floor next to the closed, oval bridge door. Along both walls perpendicular to the door, wide oval windows revealed only blackness.

“I need those coordinates now.” Rork fixed Mary Ellen with a nonchalant glance.

“Forget it.” She crossed her arms and turned away.

“This ship has weapons, I presume, Mr. Haddad,” Rork yelled across the spacious setting.

Mr. Haddad met Rork’s glance with his eyes narrowed and his jaw firmed.

Rork stood up and sauntered over to the ship’s owner. He kneeled down in front of him. “I’m actually a great admirer of yours. I want to be a great trader like you someday. I was hoping you might actually mentor me after all this…”

Mr. Haddad sneered and looked away.

“I know that’s impossible now. I also know you’re a proud man. I’ve read your biography.”

“Which one?” Mr. Haddad asked.

“The Johansson book. Do you have any painkillers, by the way?”

“Pure, made-up nonsense. It was unauthorized. And no.”

Rork frowned. On top of all his injuries, a raging headache had just fired up its engines. He rubbed his temple. “My point is, I get it. But—”

“This is wrong — even by your own standards,” Zero said from behind him.

“Then what are you doing here?” Rork turned and asked with a smirk. “You could have stayed behind at Port Vantage.”

Zero’s face hardened. “I care. Not just about your fate in this life but also in the next. You are on the wrong path. But my place is with you. And you owe me, remember?”

“You people are a bunch of kooks. There is no next life, only this one. And none of you have long to live,” Mr. Haddad said.

They sunk deeper into the couch and looked away from each other. Rork opened his mouth to reply.

The door to the bridge slid open with a quiet whoosh. Mankin poked his head through. “We’re clear of Port Vantage. Do we, uh, have coordinates yet by chance?”

Rork cleared his throat and stood up. He sauntered towards Mankin, then turned and faced the group. “Now here is a man who’s thinking ahead. I found him in a Barbary mining colony. There were a lot of men there. Only a few found the courage to try and escape. And of those few, only Mankin and I made it out.

“We’re all on one ship now, sharing one air supply, one hull separating us from the EDF, Barbary and anyone else who might be chasing us.” He glanced at Mr. Haddad. “It’s time to set aside our differences and start pulling in the same direction because if we don’t then we’re dead. All of us.”

“I’ve got nowhere to aim for, people. We could be moving away from where we need to be,” Mankin said. A sharp beeping sounded in the bridge. Mankin returned inside and the door whispered silkily shut behind him.
 

“You? Talking about sharing?” Zero shook his head.

“We’re going to stay together after this. We’ll have to. I want us to!” Rork said.

Mary Ellen sighed. “And if Barbary gets us? I’ll have no protection. I’ve been on the run for three years. I’m not going back now.” She shook her head and looked away, her face ugly with fear.

“And what of little Sarita and I?” Zero asked. “Can she expect to maintain her dignity intact? As for me, it will be the end. I will not become a goon. So much for the preaching tour we agreed upon.”

“I haven’t forgotten that,” Rork said.

“You want things from us but what will you give us in return?” Mary Ellen asked.

“I will protect you. I promise you that.”

“He is indeed good at protecting people. He kept me alive, he saved Mankin and look at how he fights for this girl of his,” Zero said.

Mary Ellen shook her head. “I vote we set course for the Jovian moons because—”

Rork walked up to the table and kneeled next to it. “What can I say? What do you want?”

“I want to go to the Jovian moons!”

“Why!”

“Because that’s where the Cylinder is. That’s where your precious Lala awaits you!”

Rork let his head crash down to the table. His chest loosened and he smiled. “Thank you. I swear—”

“Yeah, yeah. You better!” She turned and bowed her head slightly to Zero.

Rork turned to the bridge. “Mankin, we—”

The bridge door slid open again, like pure velvet. Rork could listen to that sound for the rest of his life. He’d do it on his own cruiser though. Not Mr. Haddad’s.

“EDF cruiser inbound!” Mankin yelled.

“Hold that thought.” Rork scrambled for the bridge. “Increase acceleration.”

“At the max.”

“Look at this thing. It has to go faster,” Rork said.

Mankin indicated Mr. Haddad with a jerk of his head.

“Weapons?”

Mankin shrugged.

“Brax! I didn’t come this far just to fail now!” Rork yelled.

“
SS Prime Mover
this is EDF attack group
Odin
. Cut engines and continue on present course and heading. We will fire on you if you deviate.”

“Help me, Jupiter!” Rork screamed, his face hot and his teeth grinding against each other. “Do what you can.”

“You gotta get me something!” Mankin yelled back.

Mary Ellen and Zero sat at the table looking blankly at nothing. Sarita napped in the mystic’s lap.

“Guys! EDF attack group is on us. Search the ship for something. Come on!” Rork yelled. He zoomed in on Mr. Haddad.
Smug, self-righteous. An upright trader with a will stronger than titanium.
All the qualities Rork admired in the man were now his greatest obstacles to saving Lala.

“I have nothing for you,” Mr. Haddad said.

“Mr. Haddad, I need to save—”

“Your needs mean nothing to me. Only my needs mean anything to me.”

“They’ll kill us all. You realize who I am.”

“You are the Liquidator of Luna. I am resigned to my fate. I will not make it worse by enabling you to hurt still more.”

“Are you sure— They’re calling me that?”

Mr. Haddad nodded.

“You don’t have to die. None of us do. We just need to unlock the zolt drive.”

His face was hard, his olive skin pockmarked and strained with age.

“Gamil Barbary took my girlfriend. He destroyed my family and our business. He wants to destroy me.”

“Barbary is a cunning empire-builder. You would be unwise to tangle with him, especially with just one little luxury craft.”

Rork smiled. “You’re one of those.”

He met Rork’s eyes.

“Yeah, one of those people who takes care of himself and everyone else can go to hell. That wasn’t in the Johansson biography.”

The ship rocked. Mr. Haddad knocked his head on the wall and Rork fell backwards. He righted himself.

“Just take care of yourself. That’s all I want. I’m no liquidator. I’m a trader, not as wise as you but I am making my way. Now I am a victim of Barbary’s aggression and deceit—”

“And so you commit aggression against me.” The trader looked away.

“I’m not perfect, but at least I’m trying. Are you ready to die? Have you done everything in your life that you wanted to do? Do you have family? Loved ones? Prized possessions? Are you ready to give all that up?”