Star Road (12 page)

Read Star Road Online

Authors: Matthew Costello,Rick Hautala

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Space Opera

BOOK: Star Road
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Made for some fun driving.

 

She watched as dense vegetation flashed by in a green blur that eventually—as the SRV slowed down—resolved into individual trees draped with vines, creepers, and a riot of bizarre flowers of every conceivable color, size, and variation. Birds and large insects of species she had never seen or noticed before scattered into the forest and sky.

 

Some of the flowers, rumor had it, were carnivorous. One SRV had supposedly lost a curious passenger or two a few years back.

 

The atmosphere here was dense with moisture. On the horizon, massive gray thunderheads were slowly building up for a late afternoon shower and lightning show.

 

Fresh air and rain would be a relief—a luxury after the close, dry air of the SRV.

 

The daily storms, though, could be terrifying.

 

Jordan let out a gasp, and then muttered, “Son of a
bitch!”
Annie turned to him.

 

It didn’t take long to see what had gotten his attention.

 

In the distance, parked beside the terminal, was a World Council Troop Transport.

 

Even through the gray haze at such a great distance, the vessel looked huge ... undeniably impressive. Imposing. Its flanks bristled with gun turrets, observation ports, and loading bay doors.

 

Its giant wheels were taller even than SRV-66.

 

Smaller winged and ground craft moved around the troop ship like wasps swarming a hive.

 

Annie had only a second or two to stare at and admire the ship. Her commlink beeped and came to life. The voice from control center filled the cockpit.

 

“SRV-66. You are cleared to approach the terminal.” The voice sounded metallic ... hollow.

 

Annie’s HUD flashed a map of the landing-ramp network. A glowing green line marked her approach path. The laser guidance system was locked on.

 

This is the easy part,
she thought.
Sit back and enjoy the ride.

 

Let the automatics navigate the winding roads and cloverleafs that lead to the terminal. Annie took another moment to look out at the huge warship.

 

“That’s some ship, huh?” she asked.

 

Jordan grunted. Barely looked at it.

 

He didn’t look happy.

 

Not a big fan of the World Council,
she knew.

 

Not that Jordan talked about that kind of stuff.

 

“Makes me wonder what a World Council troop ship’s doing out here.”

 

Jordan sniffed and said, “If it’s any of our business, I reckon we’ll find out soon enough.”

 

Even before he completed the sentence, control center came on again: “SRV-66. Please transmit you passenger’s manifest to the tower immediately.”

 

That got Jordan’s attention.

 

He looked at Annie with surprise.
This isn’t standard.

 

Something’s...up.

 

Annie almost replied that her passenger and cargo manifest, for that matter, were the company’s private business.

 

But not with a World Council Troop Transport out there ... within easy firing range.

 

Best to comply.

 

“Uh ... roger that,” she said. She didn’t bother to ask if they wanted her cargo manifest, too. She’d only give that when—and if—they asked for it.

 

She called up the passenger list and stats on the computer. And stared at the list for a moment to see if anything ... popped out at her.

 

She didn’t see anything. Still...

 

Might be that twitchy guy

Nahara. Or maybe this had something to do with the guy back at the boarding gate back on Pluto.

 

Or were they interested in her new passenger?

 

Any questions, though, could have been dealt with in a message pod.

 

“Captain—we’re still waiting for that passenger manifest,” the voice of control center said. Sounded like a frigging robot. Probably was.

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

 

Annie hit
send.
Then looked at Jordan, who shrugged.

 

It’s out of our hands.

 

“Please make your way to gate four, and do not disembark your crew or passengers until you receive our say so.”

 

“Gotcha,” Annie said. Then she killed the commlink and whispered: “This is total bull—”

 

“Captain Scott.”

 

Another voice—this one sounding chipper and bright—filled the cockpit. Whereas control center didn’t use a holovid, this one did. The face of a young man—
a child,
Annie thought—appeared in 3-D on her main screen.

 

“And you are
...?”
Annie was unable to disguise how pissed off she was.

 

“Commander Arno Lahti. World Council Security.”

 

A security officer. Ice water ran in their veins.

 

Annie knew this Arno Lahti could see her and Jordan as clearly as she could see him. Still, she glanced at Jordan and made a sour face.

 

I don’t have to like this...

 

“Prepare to be boarded,” Lahti said.

 

The words were barely out of his mouth when Jordan’s hand dropped below the console, checking his side holster.

 

“Jordan ... chill.”

 

I hope he has the sense not to go up against a World Council commander.

 

~ * ~

 

Ivan Delgato woke with a start.

 

Off the Star Road. Landed. Now, he felt momentarily disoriented. Confused.

 

He looked out the window and saw that the SRV had come to a stop on the tarmac by the terminal.

 

Ground crew swarmed the SRV, checking the wheels and preparing to refuel.

 

What planet did the captain say this is?

 

Does it matter? It’s not Omega Nine.

 

That’s all that matters.

 

He cupped his chin with his hand and stroked his face, feeling the bristles of beard stubble. His first and strongest sensation was:
hanger.

 

Maybe this god-forsaken backwater planet has a decent restaurant... and bar... and if the layover’s long enough ...

 

Women.

 

Been ... awhile.

 

The intercom beeped, and then: “This is your captain speaking. Please pay attention—”

 

The captain’s voice tight, suddenly ... formal.

 

“We’re stopped at the terminal, but the World Council is sending a boarding party to the SRV before we’re allowed out.”

 

Gasps and muttered questions filled the passengers’ cabin.

 

Ivan’s first thought:
I’m unarmed.

 

A lot of people back on Earth hadn’t approved of his mission. Some people wanted him to fail. And spend the rest of his sure-to-be miserable and short life on Cyrus.

 

He glanced out the window.

 

Six World Council troopers—all of them dressed in crisp, blue uniforms and armed with pulse rifles and pistols, except for the man leading them—were marching toward the SRV.

 

This might get ugly.

 

“Do you know what this is all about, Mr. Mitchell?”

 

He heard the question, but it took him a second or two to realize the Seeker across the aisle was talking to him again.

 

He turned to her and said: “Please. Call me Gage.”

 

“Fine. Gage. I’m Ruth.”

 

He nodded but ignored her extended hand.

 

“So, Gage, do you know why we’re being boarded? Is this routine?” Ivan narrowed his gaze and shook his head.

 

“Not usually, but it... You have nothing to worry about.”

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“Trust me.”

 

He looked outside. The ground crew was hanging back. Watching. Interested. It wasn’t every day an SRV or any other transport was greeted by the Council boarding party.

 

Ivan watched the captain as she exited the cockpit with the gunner a few steps behind her.

 

She didn’t look intimidated at all.

 

She even smiled at the passengers.

 

“What’s going on?” the old guy in front said.

 

The captain’s smile tightened.

 

“I’m about to find out.”

 

The gunner looked right at Ivan.

 

Does this have something to do with me?

 

Mission orders rescinded?

 

Ivan nodded.

 

Whatever was happening here wasn’t routine, and Jordan apparently didn’t like it either.

 

What could he do?

 

If they were here for him, it was over.

 

He watched Captain Scott punch the control, and the hatch opened. There was the clang of feet—many feet—on the metal steps. Then three troopers entered the passengers’ cabin.

 

Everyone reacted. Sitting up straight as if in school.

 

The old-timer at the front asked again, “What the hell’s going on?”

 

But the troopers ignored him. Each had his hand locked on their rifles, as if ready to take the passengers out.

 

Then their commander entered. He was smiling.

 

Not always a good sign,
Ivan thought.

 

His stomach tightened. If the troopers were here for him, he was helpless.

 

Unless...

 

He looked at the troopers, their guns, weighing possibilities.

 

If they come for me, do I fight?

 

Other people might get hurt.

 

The SRV’s gunner now looked at the troopers as if they were hostile invaders.

 

“Take it easy, old-timer. McGowan, right? The miner?” the commander said, still all smiles. “No need to worry, folks. We’re here to help.”

 

~ * ~

 

11

 

 

COUNCIL’S ORDERS

 

 

 

 

Here to help?

 

Yeah, right...

 

Nahara placed his right hand on his upper leg and squeezed the data crystal in his pants pocket.

 

Checking.

 

Paranoid now.

 

Thinking:
Maybe they
know!

 

How could they have found out?

 

I didn’t log out of Humphries’s computer....Anyone with half an ounce of brains or suspicion could search the history and see what I did...the data I downloaded.

 

Dead easy.

 

A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead. His paranoia, so obvious, like the slick of oil on his skin when he wiped it with the flat of his hand. He tried to see if any of the troopers were focusing on him.

 

He glanced at the miner and saw his obvious reaction: he was pissed at the interruption. Maybe he was anxious to get out of the SRV and stretch his legs. Grab a beer.

 

Nahara thought:
I need to look... unconcerned.

 

The tension inside him was so bad, he wanted to leap up out of his seat and run out the door, screaming: “You got me!”

 

How far would he get across the tarmac before they gunned him down?

 

And even if he avoided them, where the hell would he go?

 

He’d be trapped on this jungle planet.

 

Carnivorous plants!

 

He felt sick.

 

He took a breath.

 

Then:
No one’s on to me. Humphries is too stupid to suspect a thing. All I have to do is

 

“We have orders to escort you to your final destination—Omega Nine,” the World Council commander said.

 

Using his jacket sleeve, Nahara wiped the sweat from his forehead.

 

It’s all good...for now.

 

~ * ~

 

Annie shook her head.

 

“Since when has a commercial passenger coach been important enough to warrant military protection?”

 

“We don’t need your protection,” Jordan added.

 

“Just following orders, Captain.”

 

“Can we talk in the cockpit?” Annie asked, leaning close.

 

“No. Your passengers should know what’s going on,” Lahti said, turning around to face the cabin, his smile now faded.

 

“You all knew the risks when you signed on to come out here. That goes with the Road. But there have been reports of Runner activity that”—he turned to look at Annie again—”that
warrants
our protection. I’m sure you can all appreciate the added security of having a World Council troop ship along for the trip.”

 

Already Annie felt like this wasn’t her SRV anymore.

 

A damned troop ship.

 

But what choice do I have?

 

“We’ll all be leaving—together—as soon as we refuel and re-ionize the ship’s induction vents,” Lahti said. “So don’t wander too far.” With that, he turned and exited the ship.

 

~ * ~

 

“Gage?” Ruth said.

 

Ivan turned. The Seeker raced to catch up with him, both with just an hour off the cramped SRV.

 

Ivan glanced at the troopers, marching back to their ship in stiff military order. All around him on the tarmac, ground crews and other way station personnel bustled about.

 

Half a dozen men tended to the SRV-66.

 

Ivan was headed straight for the way station bar. He considered pretending he hadn’t heard Ruth, but then he stopped and turned to face her.

 

As he waited for her to catch up with him, he took a deep breath of the planet’s moist, fresh air.

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