The Army Of Light (Kestrel Saga) (20 page)

BOOK: The Army Of Light (Kestrel Saga)
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She looked at him with wide eyes. “And your trusty mechanic can make sure that
doesn’t happen?”

    
“Absolutely.”
The word sounded even less convincing
coming out of his mouth than it did in his mind.

    
“Very well, Captain. To Minos we go, and let’s not lollygag along the way.”

    
Shawn gave her a mock bow. “Thanks for your permission,
Captain
.” He
placed his hands firmly on the control wheel and pulled it slowly back towards
his chest.

    
Sylvia’s Delight
 slipped effortlessly off the landing pad near
warehouse seven. A small cloud of dormant dust billowed up after her as her
retro thrusters cycled off and the main drive engines took over the job of
launching the craft into space. Rusted panels that were gripping the sides of
the nearby dilapidated buildings with their last ounces of strength flew off in
a dozen different directions under the onslaught of the Mark-IV’s powerful
thrusters. The port and starboard engines then ignited simultaneously, each
briefly illuminating with a burst of blue ion energy as the Mark-IV accelerated
to full speed to break the power of Persephone’s gravitational hold. Minutes later
the ship passed through the upper cloud layer on its way to the welcoming
infinity of space.

    

Chapter
8

    
 

    
“I say again:
Antara
control, this is Captain Shawn
Kestrel onboard 
Sylvia’s Delight
,
Hypervarion
Mark-IV on final approach.
Registry number
459-Zed-Zed-Alpha-9.
I am requesting clearance to land at the Old
Flamingo cargo terminal, Tericeria.” Shawn repeated the message for a second
time, leaning into the microphone and trying not to look worried at the
situation. After slowing in its decent to the surface of Minos, the nimble
Mark-IV began a slow circling of the
Antara
islands—a
pattern that had now lasted well over thirty minutes, an unheard of amount of
time for Shawn to be on final approach. In fact, Shawn was hard pressed to remember
the last time he’d been in any holding pattern whatsoever around the islands.
With the exception of Jack’s Place, air traffic around the islands was light
enough to be barely noticeable, much less hazardous.

    
“How much longer is this going to take?” Melissa asked.

  
  Just as his patience began to wear thin—and before he could key up
the microphone once more—a voice transmission laced with light static came back
through the ships intercom.
“Understood, Captain Kestrel.
Please stand by while we run your authorization.”

    
Shawn slid his head back from the control panel slowly. There was no way he
could deny the peculiarity of the situation any longer. “That’s strange.”

    
“I’d call it intolerable.” Melissa then noticed the perplexed look on his face.
“Define ‘strange’, Mister Kestrel.”

    
“They’re running my authorization codes.”

    
“What’s so bizarre about that? I’d think such verification would be routine for
any vessel requesting to make a planetary landing.”

    
Shawn nodded slowly,
then
looked from the wide forward
view port to Melissa. “As shocking as this is going to sound, I’d normally
agree with you. However, in all my years of traveling through this region, the
only time
Antara
control ever bothered to run my
codes was the first couple of times I landed planet side. After that it never
happened again.”

    
She scoffed. “I’d be more concerned by the fact they never ran them again over
the fact that they’re running them now. It sounds to me like they had some
shoddy procedures in the past. Perhaps they’re making some security changes?”

    
“Considering what Toyo told us about hostile fleet movements, I’d tend to
agree, but it’s still peculiar. Especially considering we’re still well within
protected Unified space.”

    
“Sounds to me like you might be getting a little paranoid,
Captain.”
 

    
He looked at her with disapproval. ”There’s a fine line between being
paranoid and being cautious, Miss Graves. If it seems that I’m being a little
of both in order to safeguard my life, my ship, and the people onboard, then
call it what you will.”

    
She placed a hand lightly over her heart. “I’m honored that you put the value
of my life somewhere on your list, Captain, but I don’t need you to take care
of me. I can handle myself just fine.” Melissa kept her gaze fixed at the
string of islands beyond the ship.

    
“Yeah?
You say that now, but it’s pretty hard to talk
that way when a micrometeorite smashes through our hull and sucks out the
atmosphere—not to mention letting in all that wonderful cold. It gets slightly
drafty in space, you know?”

    
On that point Melissa had to reluctantly agree, although she wouldn’t give the
captain the audible satisfaction of such a disclosure. After a few more
minutes of silence from the planet, even Melissa was beginning to wonder what
was taking the port so long to authorize 
Sylvia’s Delight
 to
land. If what Shawn said was true, there should’ve been little to no problem
with clearing the vessel to land—assuming the captain didn’t have a backlog of
unpaid parking citations or other such factors baring his landing. Just as she
was about to ask him as much, the voice of the controller came back over the
intercom.

    
“Permission to land granted, Captain,” the voice said happily. “Welcome back to
Minos.”

    
“Thank you very much,” Shawn replied with agitation, then signed off the
channel. “I’m going to have to talk to ground control. They probably got some
new rookie in there that doesn’t know my ship from any other cargo vessel in the
sector.”

    
Melissa couldn’t help but get one final jab in just as the captain became too
preoccupied to respond. “That’s hard to believe.”

    
 

*          
*           *

    
 

    
The ship sent up a dust cloud of fine particulates as the thrusters brought the
Mark-IV into a picture-perfect landing just outside the Old Flamingo’s hangar
doors. As the loading ramp extended down from the back of the ship, Trent
Maddox dashed up it to meet Shawn before either he or Melissa had a chance to
get out.

    
“This is a first,” Shawn said with surprise as his mechanic came within
earshot.

    
“Hey, man. Good to see you back safe and sound.” Trent was far more excited
than usual, which immediately put Shawn on edge. Trent didn’t get excited about
much and, when he did, it usually had something to do with half naked women,
which Shawn didn’t see anywhere in sight. 

    
The captain peered from Melissa to Trent. “It wasn’t that exciting of a trip.
Nothing I couldn’t handle, anyway. What’s with the grandiose welcoming?
Normally you’d wait for me in the office and—”

    
Trent began rubbing his hands together nervously. “Say, Captain… you
didn’t have any problems getting back here, did you? I mean, there wasn’t any
trouble or anything,
was
there?”

    
“Problems?”
Shawn asked as he looked to Melissa, who
in turn shook her head in confusion. “No, no problems that I can think of. It
did take us a little longer than usual to get clearance to land, but that
wasn’t—”

    
“Oh, well. That’s great. I mean, it’s unfortunate you had to wait so long, but
I guess it could’ve been a lot worse. When you didn’t come straight in I was
worried something might have happened to you.” Trent smiled nervously.

    
“Something was going to happen to me? Like what?” Shawn asked with a chuckle.
“I was just coming in for a simple landing. I’ve done in a hundred times.”

    
“Oh, nothing.
Nothing.
It’s
just that… well… I was worried and all. But you’re back safe and—”

    
Shawn held up his hands, trying to calm his friend’s nervous chatter. “Slow
down, pal. Worried about what? What are you talking about?”

   
 Trent looked cautiously around the cargo deck,
then
lowered his voice as if someone was
overhear
ing their conversation.
“Jack.”

    
“Jack?” Both Shawn and Melissa said in unison,
then
looked queerly at one another.

    

Shhh
,” Trent hissed as he brought a finger to his
mouth. “Jack De Lorme,” he whispered with care.

    
“De Lorme?” Shawn replied, still using his full voice. “What the devil would he—”

    
Trent quickly reached up and covered Shawn’s mouth with his free hand,
effectively silencing the captain. “Keep it down, will you? Yes, Jack De Lorme!
You get space dust in your ears or something?”

    
Shawn, wide eyed that his mechanic had taken to such wild gestures, quickly
nodded his head. Trent responded by withdrawing his hand from the captain’s
mouth. Unfortunately, Trent must have been working on something rather dirty in
the hangar before 
Sylvia’s Delight
 had landed. There was a
perfect impression of his hand in the form of a dirt smudge across Shawn’s
mouth.

    
When Melissa saw the mark on Shawn’s face, she couldn’t stop a burst of muffled
laughter from escaping past her lips. She reached into her handbag and withdrew
a small piece of cloth and offered it to Shawn. “Here,” she said with a
cheerful smile.

    
He cocked an eyebrow,
then
lowered his voice—although
he still had no idea why. “What’s that for?”

    
“See for
yourself
,” Melissa replied, still chuckling
and reaching into her bag once more to produce a small pocket mirror.

    
Shawn gazed at the reflection and the wide, brownish smudge that extended from
one cheek to the other.  He looked to Trent in disbelief.
“Geez, man.
Don’t you ever wash those grubby mitts of
yours?”

    
“When the occasion calls for it.”
Trent replied
defensively.

    
“Well, how about we make sure that the occasion calls for it more often,
alright?”

    
Trent looked to Melissa, who only nodded and smiled softly in return.

    
“So, tell me what the big deal with Jack is?” Kestrel prodded as he finished
wiping his face clean. “And why in the hell are we whispering in the cargo
hold?”

    
Trent leaned into Shawn and spoke ominously. “He came looking for you.”

    
“Jack… came here?” Shawn had had never known De Lorme to make a personal call
at the Old Flamingo—and he was sure that it would’ve been an occasion to
remember.

    
“Well, he didn’t come here personally, but he did send a couple of his boys.”

    
“What for?
I haven’t done anything to get on his bad
side.”

    
“Oh
Really
?” she whispered with incredulity.

    
“Well,” Shawn replied as he turned to her, then back to Trent, “not lately,
anyway.”

    
“I’m not exactly sure why he wanted to see you, but I’m betting it was
something important. His guys said something about wanting to make sure that
Miss Graves was with you.”

    
“He wanted to see us both?” Melissa asked cautiously. “Did they say what for?”

    
“Maybe he wants you to pay for the furniture you broke?” Shawn asked
sarcastically.

    
It was not lost on Melissa. “Ha-ha,” she replied phonetically as she lightly
backhanded him across his forearm. “You owe him a piano, so don’t look at me.”

    
Shawn paid her blow little mind, turning his attention back to Trent. “We were
just there the other day. Why didn’t he say something then?” Shawn asked, not
really expecting to hear that Jack’s men had given his mechanic an answer for
it.

    
Trent could only offer shrugged shoulders. “I don’t know, man. All I know
is what they told me, and they sounded like they meant business.”

    
“What makes you say that?” Melissa asked.

    
“Well, it probably had something to with the fact they were pointing guns at me
when they said it.”

    
“That’s Jack’s version of business, alright.” Shawn agreed,
then
turned to Melissa. “But seriously, why would he want to see you, too?”

    
She stepped back defensively. “How should I know?”

    
“Right.
You’re just an innocent in all this, I
forgot.” Shawn narrowed his eyes and looked at her doubtfully, then turned back
to Trent. “Did they say if or when they were coming back?”

    
“Um, that would be a no on both, Skipper.”

  
  “That means they could be here any minute.” The wheels in Shawn’s
head began to turn quickly. 

    
“More than likely.
Your guess is as good as mine,”
Trent offered regretfully. “Say, what kind of trouble did you have landing?”

    
“Oh, it was nothing,” Melissa dismissed with a wave. “It took us an extra few
minutes to get clearance. That’s all.”

    
Trent’s brow furrowed. “That’s odd.”

    
“Yeah, I thought the same thing,” Shawn concurred as he rubbed his chin
thoughtfully. “And you said Jack sent his boys here, right?”

    
Trent looked pensive for a moment as he began to put the pieces together
in his mind. “You think that ground control got a message out to Jack? You
know… to let him know that you were back?”

    
Shawn was thinking that same thing, but then quickly shook his head. “It
doesn’t matter. I don’t have time for Jacques De Lorme or anyone else right
now. And, for that matter, neither do you.”

    
“Why do you say that?” Trent glared sideways at Shawn. “And why are you looking
at me that way?”

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