Starbounders (12 page)

“You don't know anything about me,” Kaylee said. She walked ahead, clearly bothered.

Skold turned to Ryic.

“You're from Klenarog, right? That planet has some of the finest combatants and pilots in the known galaxies. Just never heard of them sending anyone to the IPDL. Don't they have their own fleet? Couldn't make the grade at home? So you got dumped at Indigo 8?”

At first Zachary thought Skold's provoking was off the mark, but he could tell by the way Ryic was avoiding eye contact that his taunts had touched a nerve.

Finally Skold's attention fell on Zachary.

“I'm not sure about you, kid. But something tells me you've got a long way to go before that warp glove fits you.”

The words cut deep for Zachary. What he wanted more than anything was to live up to his family's legacy, but Skold was right.

“You gonna charge me for that brilliant insight?” Zachary challenged. He had no intention of letting Skold—or Kaylee or Ryic—see any weakness in him.

“No, the first hour is free,” Skold replied. “Come on, let's pick up the pace.”

If the fugitive's goal had been to get them to quit asking questions, he'd succeeded. For a while the only thing that broke the silence was the sound of Sputnik cooing inside Kaylee's pocket. Then Ryic spoke.

“Look,” he said, pointing into the distance.

Through the salt clouds they could spy a silver dot on the horizon reflecting the planet's two suns brightly.

“That's it, all right,” Skold said. “That's where we're headed. But we've still got plenty of time to uncork all your skeletons. Now which of you is going to start sharing?”

What had only been a small, gleaming dot hours earlier had now come into clear focus. It was a bunker resembling a flat-topped pyramid. A holographic flag on the top bore the IPDL symbol. The flag looked like it was flapping in the wind, but unlike an ordinary flag, it would never be destroyed by salt storms or other climatic disasters.

Skold led them to the bunker's solid front wall, where a single fist-sized indentation was the only shape on the otherwise completely smooth surface.

“Who'd like to do the honors?” Skold asked. Zachary stepped up but didn't know what he was supposed to do. “Press your warp glove against it.”

Zachary activated his glove and inserted it into the spot on the wall. A magnetic force held the glove tightly in place. Then it released and one side of the building slid open. LED lights blinked on, revealing a large chamber within. Once everyone rushed inside, the open wall of the bunker automatically sealed shut behind them.

Zachary had expected to find only the hopper ship within the IPDL safe haven but was pleasantly surprised to see tanks of water lining the walls, along with emergency food rations and first aid supplies. A small spacecraft stood at the center of the bunker. It was an egg-shaped pod with oval portholes on opposite sides. No bigger than an RV, it had four giant metallic legs elevating the pod five feet off the ground. Ladderlike steps led to the door.

“Grab some water,” Skold told them. “Then we can get off this nightmare of a planet.”

Zachary, Kaylee, and Ryic eagerly ran up to one of the walls, snatching empty thermoses and filling them to the brim with water from the spigots near the bottoms of the tanks. They threw back the drinks, letting the liquid flow down their dry throats. Zachary swallowed gulp after gulp. Never had water tasted so good. He began to choke even as he continued to swallow.

Kaylee pulled her mouth away from her thermos slightly but made a point of keeping it in front of her lips.

“How are we going to ditch him?” she asked quietly under her breath. “It's only a matter of time before we're on the wrong end of that photon cannon.”

“He saved my life,” Zachary replied, in equally hushed tones.

“We can't trust him. He'll sacrifice us the first chance he gets.”

Zachary nodded. He knew she was right.

“Are you sure this isn't personal?” Ryic asked. “For what Skold did to your father?”

“I just want us to get home,” Kaylee said.

They all glanced over at the fugitive, who was raiding the first aid supplies. His photon cannon was slung across his back.

“Now's our chance,” Kaylee said. “Zachary, on the count of three, use your warp glove to unlatch his shoulder harness. I'll grab the weapon once it's loose.”

“What about me?” Ryic asked.

“You might want to duck behind something,” Kaylee said. “In case things don't go as planned.” She turned to Zachary. “One . . . two . . . three.”

In unison they held out their warp gloves. Two holes opened right behind Skold. Zachary reached through the first, snapping the shoulder latch. Kaylee's hand emerged from the second and grabbed the photon cannon. By the time Skold turned around, Kaylee was pointing the weapon straight at him.

“Nice teamwork,” Skold said. “Gold stars for both of you.”

“Don't take another step,” Kaylee warned.

Skold put his hands up slowly. “Let's talk about this.” Then he took a stride toward them.

“I said don't move,” Kaylee repeated.

“What are you going to do, shoot me?”

“If I have to.”

Skold smiled. “All right. You win. What now?”

He stepped closer.

Kaylee pulled the trigger on the photon cannon. But the weapon didn't fire. She tried again, but no beam of superheated light shot forth. Zachary fought off a sickly feeling. The plan had backfired.

“I took the cartridge out before we left this morning,” Skold said. “I stopped trusting you after you kicked Kur'tuo into that acid lake.”

He reached out and took back the photon cannon, then replaced the cartridge with a loaded clip.

“Now get on the ship,” he said, waving his cannon toward the steps.

Zachary, Ryic, and Kaylee did as they were told, and found another fist-sized indentation at the door. This time Kaylee stuck her warp glove inside. The pod opened, allowing all four of them to enter.

The inside of the ship was sparse, with a half dozen seats that made a circle around a control panel. There was little else. This was the planet's life raft, built for survival, not comfort. They all buckled in, and Sputnik climbed out to look around.

“Launch us out of here,” Skold said. “Any of your gloves will do the trick.”

Zachary reached out and inserted his glove into the lone indentation on the control panel. The door closed with a surprisingly loud bang, startling Sputnik, who ducked back into Kaylee's pocket.

Zachary looked out the porthole but could only see one of the haven's walls. He heard the bunker's roof retract and felt the hopper ship's four mechanical legs begin to move. They seemed to bend at the knees before vaulting upward, taking to the air. The force of the jump pushed Zachary down into his seat, like a spatula pressing down on a pancake. It felt as if he would flatten at any moment. The pod sprang through the open roof of the bunker, and once it was several hundred feet above Sirocco's salty surface, the engines kicked in. The hopper ship soared higher and higher, fighting the planet's gravity before freeing itself from Sirocco's atmosphere and rocketing into space.

A small holographic image projected over the console, displaying a path from Sirocco to the Desultar Prospecting Station. Estimated time until arrival was 00:22:41—less than twenty-three minutes.

Skold looked as if he was typing on an invisible keyboard in midair. Clearly he had executed some kind of remote command, because after a moment, a message appeared on the holographic display reading,
Request for Clandestine Approach Accepted
. The lighting in the ship immediately changed color to a cool blue.

“What does that mean?” Zachary asked, wondering what the fugitive was up to.

“It means the ship will be cloaked and our arrival at the prospecting station won't be announced. Probably best if I don't have a welcoming party.”

As the estimated arrival time dwindled to just a few minutes, Zachary alternated between staring out at the cosmos and nervously eyeing the barrel of Skold's photon cannon. He feared that once they landed and Skold got ahold of his own ship, they'd be of no use to him. Then what would prevent the ruthless space convict from killing them as easily as he'd killed Jahir?

“That must be it.” Ryic's voice shook Zachary from his thoughts. He saw that his friend was pointing out the porthole to a space station.

Curved like a boomerang, it had two halves connected by a single walkway. It looked big enough to fit half of Kingston inside. A river of space rocks was hurtling toward the center of the station. Large asteroids and comets tumbled into an opening beneath the walkway in a steady flow.

Fixing the crosshairs of his lensicon on the station, Zachary blinked twice.

LOCATED IN THE PATH OF A GRAVITY SINKHOLE, THE STATION COLLECTS PARTICLE DEBRIS FROM TEN GALAXIES AND SEPARATES PRECIOUS HEAVY METALS FROM ROCK THROUGH A SERIES OF CENTRIFUGES. THE EXTRACTED ORE IS ONE OF THE MOST VALUABLE SOURCES OF MINERAL WEALTH IN THE KNOWN OUTERVERSE.

THIS IPDL-SANCTIONED FACILITY IS CONSIDERED A SAFE PLACE TO DOCK.

What about those accompanied by an armed felon, Zachary wondered? Was it safe for them?

The hopper ship was nearing the station, and the ship's mechanical legs were now stretching out beyond the pod like tentacles preparing to latch on to something.

Through the porthole, Zachary could see spacecraft large and small, docked along the outside of the station. Swarms of flying motorcycles manned by aux-bots zipped among them. One stopped and began to repair holes in the station's hull.

The holographic display read
Approaching Auxiliary Terminal
as they neared the end of the prospecting station. Zachary watched as their ship slipped between a decrepit fuel tanker and a rusty dreadnought. Its legs reached out and gripped the footholds of a station docking portal.

“Don't try anything funny,” Skold warned them as he concealed the photon cannon beneath his jacket. “Once I secure a ship that can bound me past the Asteroid Curtain, I'll set you free.”

The top of the pod opened, and the group floated into what Zachary's lensicon identified as an atmospheric atrium, a small isolated room where gravity could be gradually adjusted to acclimate new visitors to the station. Zachary felt his feet sink slowly to the floor as the sensation of zero gravity disappeared. By the time the process had finished, it felt as if the gravity was even stronger here than on Earth. His legs were straining slightly under the weight of his own body mass.

“It feels like I'm carrying a pillowcase loaded with bricks.” Zachary flexed his leg muscles, trying to adjust to the unusual feeling.

“This is what Klenarog feels like all the time.” Ryic was smiling and stretching his arms and legs. “You'll get used to it.”

Zachary took a couple of strained steps. Walking was an effort, and he was glad they didn't have to go any faster.

Skold approached a locked doorway leading into the corridors of the prospecting station. He pointed to an indentation in the wall, but Zachary already knew what he was supposed to do. He stuck his gloved hand inside, and the door retracted into the floor.

They emerged into the station's docking terminal, which was so busy with bustling workers and residents that no one seemed to notice their arrival. The vast majority of them were a short, broad-shouldered species of alien. Their facial features were similar to a human's, but their eyes were bigger and their ears smaller. The rest of the crowd was made up of other odd humanoid creatures. It didn't seem like Zachary, Kaylee, Ryic, and Skold would have any difficulty blending in as they passed from the terminal into the station's dining hub. This portion of the space station reminded Zachary of the mall food court by his house, only the vendors weren't selling tacos and pretzels. Their stands lined the halls, peddling foul-smelling soups and exotic fruits. There was even one food stand offering plates of meat that were still on fire.

Skold began leading them through the crowded market, pushing Zachary with the back of his hand. As they passed an algae stand, Ryic couldn't contain himself. He stopped for a moment to sniff in the pungent odor. The smell reminded Zachary of a wet swimsuit that had been sitting in a closet for a week, but Ryic was clearly enjoying it.

“There's nothing quite like the smell of fresh fungus drizzled with plutonium flakes,” he said, still sniffing.

“As appetizing as that sounds, we need to keep moving,” Skold said. He led the group through the inside of the space station to a directional kiosk tucked between a pay-by-the-minute shower stall and a friction-boot repair shop.

Skold waved his hand in front of the kiosk, and the motion-sensitive screen displayed a map showing an overview of the entire Desultar Prospecting Station. There were the two curved halves of the station connected by the single walkway Zachary had seen from space. A small marker indicated their current location on the far eastern end. Skold pointed across to the other side.