Wrath of the Void Strider (3 page)

“Going country on me, huh?”

She beamed.  “I was born country, Captain.”

Hugging her again, Zerki said, “I’m really going to miss you.  Are you still in touch with anyone at the agency?”

“No.  I’ve been flying steady with you the past two years.”

“Can you recommend anybody here on Afskya?”

Kendra thought for a moment.  At last she shook her head and answered, “I know a couple ladies who call this planet their home world, but they’re just as good as I am, so I’d be surprised if they weren’t on a job.”  She pulled her phone from her pants pocket.  Tapping the surface, a cloud of holographic images sprang to life above it, and she sorted through several file folders.  Finding two in particular, she dragged them down toward the screen and pressed them into place near the crown of the device.  “I’ll beam them to you, anyway.  It might be worth a call.”

“It might be.”  With a wink, she added, “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.  Whenever you’re ready, go and see Collins for your severance.  I know it’s only September, but I’ll make sure you get your full year’s bonus.”  She sent her Officer of the Watch a message instructing him to that effect.

“Thank you, Captain.”  Kendra put her phone to sleep, pocketed it and rose from the table.  With a sad salute, she turned and walked for the main entrance.  Pausing at the threshold, she cast a woeful look back at Zerki.  Mustering her determination, Kendra vanished into the corridor beyond.  

Zerki sat alone in the mess hall, listening to the echoes of her cook’s whistled tunes. 

In time, she got to her feet and made her way along brightly lit corridors to the dimmer confines of the cargo junction.  It was a long passage that ran under several operators’ compartments, alongside six enormous cargo modules.  A handful of widely spaced portholes gazed out upon an ocean of stars, kissed by the crescent of Afskya’s blue corona.  She paused at one in particular, near the bulkhead leading into the command module, and for a moment gazed upon the scintillating firmament.

Behind her, the bulkhead hissed open, and one of her crewmen said, “Captain.”

She nodded in response, her back to him as she tended her thoughts.  “Cajun,” she answered at last, but he was too far along the passage to hear over the constant thrum of the star freighter’s engines.  With pursed lips, she drew a deep breath and tore herself free of the view.  The bulkhead slid open at her approach, and she returned to brightly lit corridors.

Several strides later, she boarded the command lift.  Its doors met with a whisper, enclosing the cozy cylindrical compartment.  Brilliant point lights shone down from overhead, and bands of soft blue traced the midpoint of the stark white elevator car.  Zerki tapped the button second from the top, and it lit up green.  A moment passed, and she stepped onto the command deck.

“Captain is on the bridge,” Jackson Collins announced, and he nodded toward Zerki.  “Ma’am.”  He was ruggedly handsome, with dark hair and dark eyes.  He wore stylish boots, beige pants and a brick red shirt under a long, leather jacket.

“Thanks, Collins.”  Looking to her first mate, she said, “Val, we have a bit of a situation.”

“Kendra quit.”  She puffed her cheeks.  “Yeah, I heard.”  Valerie Sawyer was shapely and tall, with ice blue eyes and steeply bobbed, carnation pink hair.  Her boots, pants and blouse were black, and she wore a small silver cross on a silver chain.  “I’ve already reached out to a few agencies.”  She smiled slightly.  “Just waiting to hear back.”

“Thanks.  It’s appreciated.”  Exhaling heavily, she plopped down in her captain’s chair.  “This could be our biggest job yet, but the timing is critical.”  She shook her head and leaned over on her hands.  “Val, put an extra 4,000 on the table.  Maybe that’ll turn some wheels a little faster.”

“Done.”  Valerie raised her brows.  “Captain, what’s the job?”

“I can’t say.  Not yet.  I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up until it’s confirmed.”

With a frustrated laugh, Valerie tapped the side of her head.  “One day, you’ll have to tell me how you’re able to block me like that.”

Zerki was distant.  “Maybe one day.”  A quiet moment passed as she took in her starship’s bridge.  It was compact, with sturdy chairs and broad rails.  Grated stairs led down to the helm and ship’s operations.  The first mate’s, communications, tactical and jump rig stations surrounded the captain’s rise from behind.  A wide view screen spanned the forward extent of the deck, framed by a plate sapphire canopy.

“Mind if I ask where we’re going?” asked Collins.

“Ixion System, but we need to be there in ten hours.”

His eyes widened.  “That’s highly unlikely to happen, Captain.  Even if someone got back to us right now, unless they’re willing to expedite, we’d—”

“Five Star Navigators just responded to the ad,” Valerie announced.  “They’re willing to expedite.”

Zerki glanced sidelong at Collins.  “You were saying?”

He laughed jovially.  “You lead a blessed life, Captain.”

Valerie looked relieved.  “Wonderful!  They’re also willing to…  Willing to… uh, hold on.”  Suddenly doubling over, she gripped the sides of her head.  She fought a flood of images as they crashed through her mind.  “Captain,” she managed.  “It’s happening again.”

Getting quickly to her feet, Zerki hurried to Valerie’s side and steadied her.  “Another vision?”

“I think so.”  Valerie inhaled sharply.  She squeaked, “Yes.”  As quickly as it had come, the avalanche of images subsided, and she exhaled.  With quickened breaths, Valerie sagged against the back of her chair.

“What did you see?”

Swallowing to moisten her throat, she paused to collect herself.  “I saw our next Navigator.”

Collins snickered.  “You needed a vision for that?”  He peered at her console.  “According to the message, her name’s Johanna Oroni.”

Valerie regarded him sternly.  “No, it’s not her.  I saw a man in our jump rig.”  She closed her eyes and shook her head as she winced.  “There was a lot of information, and it was… jumbled.”  She pounded the base of her palm against her temple.  “There was a flying truck, a giant rock person, and a young human man.  He seemed very familiar, for some reason, and I definitely saw him lying down in our jump rig.”

“What was around him?” Zerki asked.

“A building…  And another man.”  Her expression brightened.  “A dance club!”  Grinning, she gripped Zerki’s sleeves.  “I recognize it!  It’s one of my old hangs—Supernova Express!”

Lifting away Valerie’s hands, she asked, “How sure are you?”

“Completely sure.  It’s this old place at the west end of Van Alder.”

Zerki frowned.  “I meant, how sure are you about this vision?”

Valerie nodded.  “Also completely sure.  And it’s happening very soon.”

“What about Johanna?”

“We should set up a meeting,” advised Collins, “just in case.”

“You won’t need to,” said Valerie.  “This is our Navigator.  I know it is.”

Zerki puffed her cheeks.  “Collins, set something up for an hour after we land.  Valerie, you’re coming with me.”  Leaning over her console, she held down the comm button and said, “D’Arro, get a couple of your guys together and meet me in the aft shuttle hangar, stat.  You too, Kendra.”

After a moment, D’Arro’s voice came through the comm.  “Aye, Captain.”

Looking to her helmsman, Zerki said, “You’re flying the shuttle.”

“Aye, Captain,” answered Krane Eichmann, and he rose from his station.  He was a lanky man, dressed in sneakers, jeans and a printed T-shirt.  He wore a baseball cap on his shaved head.  With an excited smile, he stretched and cracked his knuckles.  Looking to Collins, he said, “She’s already on auto-orbit.  It should be a smooth flight.”

Collins nodded.  “Much obliged.  See you when you get back.”

Before long, Zerki joined her companions in the rear module’s hangar bay.  Before them loomed a massive cargo shuttle, bathed in deck lights.  She was broad, with a domed upper hull and drab green paint that gave her a decidedly tortoise-like appearance.  Krane tapped a button on her remote console, prompting the loading ramp to descend.  Her crew quickly boarded.

After Krane had completed his pre-flight check, the ramp locked in place, and klaxons sounded as warning lights turned and flashed.  The air within was drawn back into the starship’s vents, causing the klaxons to fall silent.  A moment later, the hangar doors unsealed and pulled slowly away, locking into their recesses.  Afskya’s blue crescent appeared before them, cradled in a sea of stars.

Seated within the shuttle’s bridge, Krane eased the starship out into the void, headed for the dark half of the planet.  He set course for Van Alder’s municipal starport.  “Everyone buckle up,” he advised.

The shuttlecraft raced toward its destination.

Chapter 03

Within his commuter car, Gavin rummaged through his bag as the vehicle drove itself.  He retrieved a wrinkled digital notebook and leafed through it purposefully, comparing his notes against the Galactic History textbook on his phone.  Absently, he noticed the bright lights of the city as they drifted past, blurred by the downpour.  High overhead, sky cars zipped by in the flight lanes.

Before long, the vehicle emitted a gentle chime, and a garbled voice began announcing something indecipherable.  Annoyed, he struck the dash, and the voice stopped.  It restarted, saying, “Your destination is up ahead.  Thank you for choosing OmniVoy’s Collegiate Commuter Fleet.  Have a great day!”

“You too,” Gavin muttered, and he tapped his stylus against a page of notes before packing his bag.  He glanced up as his bubble car slowed.  In front of him was a soaring tower of two-story, rain-soaked dormitory pods, connected by a complex network of pedestrian tubes and multi-directional elevator shafts.

The vehicle descended a broad ramp and idled in front of a pair of heavy steel doors framed by thick black and yellow diagonals, emblazoned with dozens of warning labels.  A bright blue number “12” appeared under a weathered placard that read, “Your Place in Queue.”  It slowly counted to “1” before going dark, and the massive doors ground open.  His vehicle eased into a softly lit industrial elevator compartment, and the crash of rain fell abruptly silent, replaced by the trickle of dripping water.  Gavin hoisted his pack as an overhead blower roared to life, drying his car in seconds, and he felt the sensation of movement.   At last, he reached his dormitory pod and glided into the awaiting bay.

Elevator doors sealed behind him, and his car powered down beside a much larger, covered vehicle.  The dome popped open, and he climbed out into his personal garage space.  It was white, smooth and well lit.  Tool drawers vanished almost seamlessly into cornerless walls, and a view screen presently cycled through scenes of halcyon landscapes.

Gavin took a moment to run his hand over the covered vehicle.  Sadly, he said, “I don’t think I can keep you.”  With a weighty sigh, he approached the entrance to his home.  An embedded green strip light brightened as he approached, and the doorway opened quietly.  He took a moment downstairs to activate the windows, set them to “Starry Lakefront” and went to the kitchen to prepare a bowl of hot and sweet steak dumplings.

After giving a few hours to his homework and catching up on his shows, he turned out the lights and tapped the feed button on his saltwater tank.  Tiny flakes drifted here and there, catching the attention of a dozen colorful fish.  A maroon clownfish flickered however, momentarily frozen in place.  Static lines ran its length from head to tail, and Gavin shook his head.  “Oh, come on,” he muttered to himself and watched with folded arms. 

The clownfish didn’t move.  “Damn it,” he huffed, and he switched off the tank’s overhead light.  He made his way upstairs, set down his pack and tossed his work shirt over the back of a desk chair.  Without thinking, he checked his alarm, propped his phone in its case and displayed a holographic clock.  He stripped to his boxers and socks, and he slid under the sheets.

·· • ··

It was still dark outside when Gavin’s phone beeped a message alert.  Sleepily, he lifted it from its cradle and played back his video mail.  The holographic image of an old friend appeared onscreen asking for his help.  When it was done playing, he saved the message and found himself smiling somewhat.  He curled up from his bed and pulled on a heavy shirt, shoved his arms through one at a time, and hopped clumsily into a pair of blue jeans.

His phone rang, and he answered it.  “That’s funny,” he puffed, and he nodded at the still frame staring back at him.  “I was just about to call you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Taryn’s stranded at Supernova Express, over in Van Alder.”  He jammed his feet into his boots.  “She wants a rescue, and I’m in a driving mood.  Want to come with me?”

A thin yawn followed, and his friend answered, “Huh, she left me a message to the same effect, but she knows I don’t drive.  Why bother?”

“Because she knew you’d call me.”  He grabbed his keys and wallet.  “Are you coming?”

His friend chuckled sleepily.  “I want to, but I shouldn’t.”

“You absolutely should,” goaded Gavin.  “Come on, what’s going on tomorrow that you need to sleep for?”

He chuckled.  “I need to pack for a job on Monday.”

“Do your packing on Sunday.”

A lengthy pause followed.

“You still there?”

His friend sighed audibly, though not as heavily as he had intended.  “I’ll come.  For old times’ sake.”

“Meet me out front.”   He tapped his phone off.  Quickly, Gavin donned an orange jacket, slid his phone into a sleeve pocket and hurried down the stairs.

The garage entrance slid open, and he moved for the covered vehicle.  Suddenly grinning, he said, “One last ride,” and tapped a small square button on the side of the cover.  Instantly, the cloth collapsed into the button, forming a compact beige cube that dropped into Gavin’s awaiting hand.  He pocketed the cube and paused to regard his Hulkr Rhino pickup truck.

Aggressively large and matte black, it had tall, square wheel wells and a sleek cabin accessible from two massive doors.  A glossy sheet of curved glass formed the windshield, connecting seamlessly with the side windows.  Extending from the back of the cabin’s roof, a thick, sharply angled steel loop hovered over a reinforced cargo bed and its nested toolbox.  From the truck’s door handles, hood latches and wheel wells, pinpoint lamps cast gentle cones of light.  Mounted to the grill, a hazy blue glow seeped continuously from the Hulkr logo.