Search for the Phoenix: Phoenix Series Book 2 (30 page)

Twenty-four years later…

Megan stepped out of the house and walked to the workshop. She found Nolan sitting at the workbench as he tinkered with a sensor pod.

“Do you remember that story we saw a few weeks ago on the Galactic News about Ternose having that secret penal colony on a planet called Bellansi?” she asked.

“Yes. What about it?”

“It started me thinking… we’ve checked everywhere else. What if Carl somehow ended up there?”

Nolan put down his tool and faced her. “On a penal planet?”

“Anything is possible. I asked Niles to run a search for me,” she said.

“You asked the first admiral of SACOM to run a search for you?” Nolan asked.

“He offered to help us all those years ago when the whole conspiracy was revealed. Then First Admiral Saunders promoted him to vice admiral and made him her administrative adjutant. She said the matter was closed and forbid any further expenditure of SACOM resources looking for Carl. Well, she retired last year, and Niles was promoted. I was pretty sure he would be willing to help,” she said.

“Yes, but doesn’t he have more important things to do?” Nolan asked.

“He didn’t run the search personally,” she said defensively. “He assigned an AI to do it. It found a man named Leon Yeardley who appeared out of nowhere on the grid on a starliner that left Caldon shortly after Carl disappeared. He was never on the Caldon grid. That’s why they never noticed him before. The interesting thing is, he got off the ship at Delnose-three, but got back on an hour later and went on to Ternose.”

“And you think the man was Carl,” Nolan said.

“It’s possible. Anyway, he was on Ternose for three years before being executed for murder,” she said.

Nolan stared at her, shocked. “Then why are we having this discussion?”

“The news story! Remember? Many of the people who were listed as executed actually got shipped out to Bellansi. He could be there now,” she said.

“He’s been gone for twenty-five years, Megan.”

“Yes, but that would make Carl about seventy years old, right?”

“Seventy-three,” Nolan said.

“So he could still be there.”

“Can’t Niles tell us if this Yeardley guy was shipped to Bellansi?” Nolan asked.

“No. There are no official records of the people shipped out. The AI found out he had been convicted and executed by scanning news stories from their archives,” she said.

“So, the only way I’m going to find out is to go there and ask if anyone knows Leon Yeardley,” Nolan said.

“Yes! Don’t you think it’s worth trying?” she asked. “You can be there in a week in the Griffin. Less, if you cheat and take a jump inside the system,” she added with a smile.

“Then I guess I’m going to Bellansi,” Nolan said. “Will you go with me?” he asked.

“Someone has to stay and run the business. We have salvagers and buyers coming in every week for the next two months. Go. I’ll be fine here. If I need help, I’ll message Boo and she’ll be here in a couple of hours.”

* * * *

The bitter cold air blew, whipping snow up into a nearly blinding wall of white. Nolan shivered, bundled up in as many layers as he could manage. It wasn’t enough. Finding his way to the processing facility, he stepped inside and felt the warmth from overhead heat lamps. The snow on his jacket melted. Stepping through another door, he found himself in something like an auditorium. A man came through a door at the far end and walked toward him.

“Are you Nolan Peters?” the man asked as he approached.

“Yes. You must be Director Perkins,” Nolan said.

“I am. I received your message. I was able to find an address for your friend, Leon Yeardley. He is living in Grove City with his wife,” Perkins said.

“He has a wife?” Nolan asked.

Perkins consulted a document he was holding. “Yes. His wife’s name is Denice. They have two adult children.”

“How do I get to Grove City?” Nolan asked.

“It’s down the coast a ways. I can give you a map. There’s no spaceport there. You’ll have to find a suitable open space on the edge of town to land your ship,” Perkins said.

Nolan set the Griffin down on a frozen field just north of Grove City and stepped out. The snow was only half a meter deep here, which was an improvement. The wind, however, was still bitter cold. As quickly as he could manage, he trudged through the snow toward the nearest building.

By the time he reached the door, his feet were stinging and his face was numb. The warmth inside was welcome. It appeared to be an apartment building, or perhaps a hotel. He sat in a chair, pulled off his shoes, and let the warmth soak into his feet.

A woman stepped in from outside and headed for the elevator. Noticing Nolan, and realizing he was not dressed for the weather, she paused and asked, “Can I help you?”

“I’m trying to find a friend. He lives here in town.” With half-frozen fingers, he struggled to pull a scrap of paper from his pocket. The woman walked over to him and read the address.

“Oh, yes, that isn’t far. Come with me. There’s an underground walkway that will take you to a building across the street from that address. I’ll show you.”

Nolan pulled his shoes on and stood up. His feet suddenly felt like they were full of needles. He struggled along, doing his best to keep up. The woman took him down the elevator to the basement. Stepping into the corridor, she pointed. “Keep going straight for about half a kilometer. There are signs. When you get to the Klugman Apartments, take the elevator up to the lobby. The building you want will be across the street and half a block south.”

“Thank you. My name is Nolan. What’s yours?” he asked.

She smiled. “Robin. I have to go now. I hope you find your friend.” She stepped back into the elevator, and the door closed. He began walking, reading the signs as he went.

When he reached the Klugman Apartments lobby, he looked out at the blowing snow. “Wonderful weather,” he mumbled as he stepped outside and dashed across the street. Turning south, he watched the building numbers as he went.

Number 215 Davis Street was a tall apartment building. Without stopping to study the architectural details, he rushed into the warmth of its lobby. Apartment 429, the note read. He got into the elevator and rode to the fourth floor.

A few moments later, Nolan stood outside the apartment. His excitement grew as he realized he might be standing outside Carl’s door. He knocked.

A woman opened the door. “Hello,” she said.

“Hello. My name is Nolan Peters. I’m looking for Carl… no, I mean Leon Yeardley,” he said.

“Please, come in,” she said. She stood aside, making room for Nolan to enter the foyer. “Wait here. I’ll get Leon for you.”

Nolan’s excitement grew as he waited while the woman walked into the living room and then turned down a hallway. His heart was racing. This was it. He would see Carl again. A moment later, a man stepped into view and walked toward him. Nolan’s heart sank. This man was shorter than he remembered Carl being. Even given that he had not seen Carl in twenty-five years, he knew this man was not him.

“Hello, sir. I’m Leon Yeardley. My wife tells me you wanted to see me.”

“I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else. Forgive me for imposing on you,” Nolan said as he turned around and opened the door.

“Wait just a moment, if you will. My wife said your name is Nolan Peters. Is that correct?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. Nolan Peters.”

The man smiled. “Nolan Peters, helmsman and chief engineer of the Salvage Vessel Independence,” the man said, and then laughed at Nolan’s shocked expression. “In that case, I expect you are looking for Carl Jenkins. No, wait a minute… Carl Wilkins.”

“Yes!” Nolan said. “Do you know him?”

“He’s my best friend, though if you knew our relationship twenty-five years ago, you might not believe it,” the man said.

“Is he okay? Do you know where I can find him” Nolan asked.

“Carl is doing well, in good health. I’ll take you to him, if you’d like.”

“Please, I don’t want to be any trouble. If you can tell me where I can find him, I won’t take up any more of your time,” Nolan said.

Leon shook his head. “Nonsense. I was going to visit my friend today, anyway. Give me a few minutes to get dressed, and we’ll be on our way.” The man looked Nolan up and down. “You’re going to need something to keep you warm.” He looked at Nolan’s shoes. “And boots. I think I have an old pair of my son’s boots that might fit you. Come into the living room, and I’ll see what I can find.”

Several minutes later, the man emerged from the hallway wearing a jumpsuit with a face mask and a pair of boots. He handed Nolan a pair of boots and a heavy coat. “Try these on. They’re worn, but they’re a lot better than what you are wearing. I don’t have a heated jumpsuit in your size, but you can wear my spring jacket. You should have brought warmer clothes.”

“I didn’t realize I would be arriving in the middle of winter,” Nolan said.

The man laughed. “Mister Peters, this is late fall. You wouldn’t have survived five minutes outside in mid-winter.”

The pair stepped out of the lobby, and Leon turned and set off down the sidewalk at a brisk pace. Nolan struggled to maintain his footing as he tried to keep up. He had a lot of questions, but the man had given him a scarf to wrap around his face. With that, and the howling wind, a conversation was not going to happen. They walked downhill for some time. Eventually, Leon turned left and Nolan could see a harbor two blocks ahead. They trudged on, with Nolan thankful for the warm boots and scarf. The extra jacket was helpful, too.

When they reached the harbor, to Nolan’s surprise, Leon proceeded down a dock lined with boats. Near the end, he walked up a gangplank onto a fishing boat. Snow and ice clung to the stern, so he couldn’t make out the name.

Leon opened the door to the wheelhouse and stepped inside. Nolan followed. Leon flipped up his face shield and pulled back his hood. A moment later, Carl came up the steps and smiled at Leon.

“Well, now, it’s good to see you, my friend. How is Denise?” he asked.

“She’s fine, as always. It’s good to see you, too. I’ve brought you a visitor.”

Nolan was too shocked to say anything. It was Carl. He was older, with some gray hair, but it really was him. Nolan began unwrapping the scarf from around his face.

“Carl, do you remember your old friend, Nolan Peters?” Leon asked.

Carl stared at Nolan for a moment, and then he stepped forward and grabbed him in a crushing hug. “Nolan, I can’t believe it’s you! How did you ever find me?”

Nolan just patted Carl’s back and cried, still unable to speak.

“He found me, first. Luckily, my mind is still sharp as a knife, and I recognized his name,” Leon said.

Carl pushed away from Nolan, but he held him by the shoulders. “I can’t believe it’s you. It’s really you.”

“Carl, I think we would all be more comfortable down in the galley, sipping whiskey,” Leon said.

Carl laughed. “You see, that’s why Leon is my friend. Denise won’t let him have whiskey in the house. He comes down here and puts up with me so he can drink mine.”

Leon smiled. “Not true, my friend. I’d come to see you if you were serving warm seawater. But I wouldn’t turn down your whiskey.”

“Come,” Carl said. He turned and led the way to the galley.

Nolan stripped off his extra layers while Carl set glasses and a bottle on the table. He slid into the bench next to Leon so he could sit across from Carl. They picked up their glasses and toasted Nolan’s arrival.

“So, Nolan, did you come here in your own ship, or did you kill someone?” Leon asked.

Carl laughed. “I hope you came here in a ship. If I recall, you’re no fan of cold weather.”

“I came in the Independence, though I renamed her Griffin,” he said.

Carl’s glass stopped halfway to his mouth. “The Independence? I thought… didn’t SACOM destroy her?”

Nolan’s smile grew wide and he beamed with pride. “I stole her from SACOM.”

Carl roared with laughter. “Okay, I need to hear this story.”

It was hours later when Leon excused himself to go home. “Denise will be wondering where I’ve been all this time.”

“When she gets a whiff of your breath, she’ll know,” Carl said with a smile.

“True. Don’t worry. She won’t hold it against you,” Leon said as he climbed the steps.

“I can’t believe you found me. How did you manage it?” Carl asked.

“It’s a long story. Megan and I had a lot of help from a friend.”

“Who is Megan?” Carl asked.

Nolan realized twenty-five years was a lot of time to make up for. “Megan is my wife. She was married to John Carson.”

Carl’s smiled faded. “I remember her. She’s a wonderful lady.”

“Yes, she is. Carl, we’ve been looking for you for twenty-five years. I’ve come to take you home.”