Star Road Read online

  ~ * ~

  Moving quickly, Annie walked down the aisle and stopped in front of Gage.

  She placed both hands on the seats and leaned down toward him.

  “Hi. Annie Scott,” she said, extending a hand. The man shook it. A strong handshake.

  This guy’s no office worker.

  “Your flight plan checks out with what I have in my computer. But I’ll still want to send a pod back for confirmation once we reach the way station.”

  “No problem,” Gage said.

  “I’m curious what you’re doing out along this route in a solo. Kinda unusual. And dangerous.”

  “Heading to Omega Nine ... like you, I guess, if you’re going to the end of the line.”

  “Yeah, but... a solo?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And what’s your business on Omega Nine?”

  He smiled. The answer total bullshit.

  “Family stuff.”

  “You have family on Omega Nine?”

  Gage nodded and said, “Last time I checked—yeah. But, rescue or not, I don't see where it’s any of your business. I do appreciate you stopping and saving my skin—for following the code.”

  “We don’t get an option with that,” she said.

  She thought: This guy needs to be watched. Something’s…off.

  “And no worries—I’ll make sure to transfer the transportation fee to your account when we get to the way station. What way station is it, anyway?”

  “Way Station One—Epsilon Two Sector. So, why a solo?” the captain asked again.

  “Only ship I could find at the time.”

  “So why not this SRV? I had a few empty seats.”

  The man shrugged.

  “I left before you did.”

  “In a hurry?”

  “You could say that. Still... I don’t see where that’s any of your business.”

  “Right. Okay. Good chatting. Just make sure you’re no trouble to any of my paying passengers. Or me ... or my SRV. Understand?”

  “Perfectly.”

  Then she turned and walked back to the cockpit.

  ~ * ~

  Ruth watched the captain leave and then looked back at Gage, slouched in his seat, hands folded across his stomach.

  He looked at her and smiled.

  He likes playing with people.

  As if this is all a game.

  Just like too many people she had met in her life. People like him were the reason she had joined the Seekers in the first place.

  To get away from people who would say or do anything as long as they got what they wanted.

  “If you don’t mind ... he said, smile fading. His voice was low, edged with fatigue. “I’d just as soon not have any more sermons for the time being. That all right with you?”

  Ruth stared at him for a moment, then adjusted her cowl as she turned to the window.

  ~ * ~

  Ivan looked around at the other passengers.

  Some of them—especially the Chippie—were watching him as well. The old-timer up front was dead to the world. The guy across from him looked like he was gone—lost in whatever chip he was using.

  Behind him, a twitchy guy eyes flickering around the passengers’ quarter and then stopping on Ivan a few too many times.

  But Ivan was glad there were so few of them.

  It would make his masquerade a little easier to pull off.

  Except for that gunner, Jordan.

  Good gunner, no doubt. Rock solid. Someone who kept his guns and his suspicions close.

  And what would he do if, for some reason, after all the planning, all the steps taken to make sure this worked ... what if someone found out?

  He needed to rest now, but even after a sonic shower in the lavatory, he felt wired. Maybe a few som-tabs would calm him down.

  Too bad he had left his belongings in his vehicle—other than his pistol, which Jordan now had.

  Just the clothes on my back, he thought.

  Still—despite uncountable times on the Road performing maneuvers in places where there were no ramps—and Star Road portals could be anywhere, between mountaintops, hovering over vast chemical seas—Ivan kept a tight grip on the arms of his seat.

  A primitive reflex.

  As if that would help if shit got real.

  Or was he feeling wound up because of his recent brush with death?

  All those Road Bugs. So close...

  No. He’d seen and fought plenty of those in his time with the Runners.

  More than likely, he was worried Jordan had already seen through his “Gage Mitchell” routine. He’d had some micro-sculpting done on his face back on Earth, but when he looked in the mirror, he still saw his own face—Ivan Delgato.

  Maybe Jordan did, too?

  Like the other passengers, he was as firmly strapped into the seat as he could be.

  He didn’t like it. He should be piloting.

  I don’t make a good passenger.

  It didn’t help that he was unarmed and at the mercy of this Captain Annie Scott.

  He looked out the porthole to his right. The light show and visuals of warped space were all hypnotizing. The display of interweaving colors and lights outside the SRV soon had him shutting his eyes. Sleep... would be good.

  And then, just as he was dipping deeply into unconsciousness, the feeling so soothing, the cabin PA chimed, and Captain Annie Scott’s voice yanked him violently awake.

  “Attention passengers—”

  ~ * ~

  10

  BOARDING PARTY

  “Just thought you’d want to know we’re coming up on Way Station One in the Epsilon Two Sector.”

  As she spoke, Annie fixed her focus on the forward screen, adjusting it for random fluctuations in the forces surrounding the SRV.

  “Our layover will be three hours. Once we’ve docked and cleared security, it’ll be a good chance for you to get out and stretch your legs. Get some fresh air. Indigenous life on Epsilon Two has some dangerous predators, so I highly recommend that you stay within the confines of the terminal.”

  What am I? A tour guide? A babysitter? If anybody wants to venture outside and get eaten ... so be it.

  Then she focused all of her attention on the screens and readouts flashing in front of her.

  “All good?” she asked.

  “Looking fine,” Jordan answered.

  “Portal entry in—”

  She checked some more readouts. Toggled some switches.

  “Five ... four ... three ... two ... one ... contact.”

  Once again, the physical dimensions of the cabin—and the entire ship— altered.

  Only this time, everything shortened as if the world—or the ship, anyway—was now at the wrong end of an old-fashioned telescope.

  Annie enjoyed the rush of reentry. She hoped her passengers were ready for it. Even after doing this scores, if not hundreds, of times, she braced herself for the wave of strangeness that was a portal exit.

  Fortunately, the physical and mental effects didn’t last long.

  She blinked, needing to focus quickly now.

  The approach ramp appeared directly below her SRV.

  Easy... easy...

  Touchdown.

  The SRV shuddered when it impacted physical reality, and then it started rolling along the long entry ramp. Its wheels squealed inside the cockpit as Annie braked the vehicle.

  “Easy now ... easy …”

  This landing was trickier than most. Epsilon was a jungle planet—with some rugged terrain. Giant cliffs could pop up anywhere.

  The approach ramps hadn’t been laid straight. Like many planets with Star Road portals, the ramp curved and angled in a variety of directions to accommodate the topography.

  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 indiv
idual 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.”