CHAPTER FIVE

 

 

 

"Cal, did you get all that?" Nova said.

"Confirmed. The Confederacy is spending more money on a quest to control the outer planets and the fugitives may or may not be here."

"You've got that right. I don't know if the fugitives would waste their time on something as fruitless as this. Although I suppose there are a lot of Confederacy soldiers to wipe out."

"What's your next step?" Cal said.

"I'll ask around, see if anyone's seen these guys. I'm going to try and blend in, get my info from the inside. Don't wait up."

She entered a brown, canvas tent where over twenty men and women in dust and sweat-stained clothes gathered around flimsy tables. Small silver bowls of brown gruel congealed in front of them, and they shoveled it into their mouths.

She glanced down at her worn jacket. It was already so covered in dirt and sand that she could have spent the morning working down in the tunnels. She strode to the serving table, grabbed a bowl, and sat down at a long table. She squeezed in between two large men who were intent on their meals.

She spooned two mouthfuls and let the slimy paste slide down her throat. There was no flavor to the gruel, just the texture, like chewing on glue. It coated her mouth with a smooth layer of gunk. She forced herself to swallow and the glue went down her throat, leaving a slimy trail.

"You'd think with food generators they could give us something better than this," she said under her breath.

The men on her left and right grunted and continued to eat while opposite her a woman nodded her head.

"Still too expensive," the man on her right said. "Trust me, we've asked."

"Damned Confederacy," Nova said. "So how'd you get stuck working for 'em?"

The man shrugged, still eating. "Same as you, I'd warrant. Need the money and there's nowhere else to go."

"Ain't that the truth," she said. "I was working out in the Resources District. Came out this way looking for some friends of mine."

"Oh yeah?" the big man said.

She studied his face out of the corner of her eye. His large body threatened to break the table where his elbows leaned against it.

"Yeah. Maybe you've seen them around?" she said.

The man's back stiffened and he lowered the spoon from his mouth. He laid his forearms on the table and turned slowly to stare at Nova. His bushy brows drew together and the corners of his mouth turned down.

"Maybe I have and maybe I haven't," he said. "What was your name again?"

"Lara," she said. Her heart fluttered. It was all very well to make small talk but these weren't simple peasants. The scars across each of their arms and necks were proof enough that they'd seen their share. She had no doubt that the big man would see her dead if he thought she was some kind of Confederacy spy.

"I know what you're thinking," Nova said and held up her hands. "I just want to find my friends."

"Maybe they ran off."

"I heard they came here. I'll show you the pictures and if you haven't seen them then that's that."

The man's eyes remained fixed on Nova. His tongue worked at one of his yellowed teeth. "Show me the pictures."

Nova drew out the screen. The two figures projected up out of it and sneered at the man; lifelike, unnerving.

The man glanced at the two criminals. His hand clenched tight around his metal spoon. "Never seen 'em."

There was something in his eyes, a flicker of recognition.

"Are you sure?"

He turned back to his gruel. "Sure."

Nova sighed and looked at the pictures of the two men. They had probably had their faces completely redesigned since these images were taken. If she was on the run from the Confederacy that's what she'd do.

"Aren't they Doyle and Pete?" the woman across the table said, her eyes squinted.

"You recognize them?" Nova said.

"I might. They've got the same look as Doyle and Pete. Can't quite say what it is though."

The big man on Nova's right looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Wouldn't you know their names?"

Nova returned his hard stare. "My friends may have had reason to change their names."

He grunted.

"Well if they're not the same boys then they're some kind of relative," the woman said.

"Where are Doyle and Pete?"

"Oh they're on digging. It's kind of their thing you see, they like working in the dark. Weird if you ask me, but each to their own."

"So they're down in the tunnels?" Nova asked.

"Yep that's right. I seen 'em a couple of times. They're quiet, keep to themselves."

"That sounds about right," Nova said.

"Times like these, I'd want to find my friends too."

Nova tucked the small screen into her pocket and rose from the table. She glanced around at the other faces but none of them seemed interested in her.

"Aren't you going to finish your food?" the big man asked.

"What?" she glanced down at her bowl. "Oh, no. You go ahead."

He pulled her bowl over and spooned gray mountains onto his tongue. Nova smiled once more at the woman and walked away. There were too many people for her to make a break for the dig site. No doubt by now Alaina would have warned all of the soldiers. They wouldn't let her even get a smell of the dig-site, let alone descend into the tunnels. She'd wait until dark, when there should be fewer people around.

She hiked away from the crowded tent, back up the hill. A new layer of sand buried her footprints as soon as she lifted her feet and the scorching desert sun beat down on her shoulders.

It was a peculiar planet. Barely a speck in the greater scheme of things and yet here the Confederacy was, plowing through it. What were they looking for?

"Cal, can you bring the lander closer. I think it's safe from being shot down, at least for now."

"Not if that captain has anything to say about it," Cal replied.

Nova sat in the sand. She gazed out across the heat-hazed horizon. The Confederacy was up to something, there was no doubt about it, but that wasn't why she was here. She had one mission and one mission only; get the fugitives, and get paid.

She raked her fingers through the warm sand, drawing patterns in the grains.

An hour later, a high-pitched buzz made her lift her head and gaze out at the horizon. The buzz got louder until the shimmering silver blob resolved itself into the lander. The metal was dull and rusted compared to the ships of the Confederacy, but at least it was hers.

It parked out of sight of the Confederacy ships and a pile of sand built up against its side.

Nova trudged over and climbed inside. The engine roared into life and the glass bubble closed around her.

The ship rumbled and lifted off the ground. It hovered above the desert and sent swirls of sand into the air. Nova gripped the armrests, take-off was always the worst part in the small lander. The main thrusters ignited and the lander zipped away from the sand. Gravity and inertia tugged at Nova's body and pushed her back into the chair.

Thick clouds zoomed past. The ship streaked up, carrying trails of mist through the air then shot out of the top of the clouds. Drops of moisture coated the glass bubble and streamed off as the ship shot forward.

It was a short journey out of the atmosphere and into the darkness beyond. The ship quaked as it left atmosphere. Heat poured off of the outer shell and coated Nova's skin in a thin layer of sweat.

Darkness and speckled stars replaced the blue sky and the heat dissipated in the vacuum of space. Nova allowed herself to breathe again and her shoulders relaxed back into her chair.

The homing function guided the small lander to Crusader. The bigger ship loomed like a gray whale in the vast emptiness. Rust and dents covered the older ship. From the outside it looked like a metal bubble with extra bits stuck on, like the pilot's pod; a smaller bubble at the front, and the capsule-like cargo pods attached to the sides. The model was massively outdated, but Nova loved it all the same.

She caught sight of the burnt-out remains of the right cargo pod and winced. Jagged pieces of broken steel jutted out from a large hole through which the empty cargo pod could be seen. Scorch marks blackened the area around the hole.

The lander stopped below Crusader and the two airlocks clicked into place. Nova unclasped her belt and pushed against the trapdoor. It swung up and slammed down onto Crusader's floor. She pulled herself up into the main ship and breathed in the familiar smell of Crusader, home.

Cal waited beside the engine. His metallic hand clasped a cool drink of Blue. She accepted the glass and smiled at the robot. No doubt he'd seen the horrible gray goo she'd been eating and had felt a twinge of sympathy.

The blue liquid slid down her throat with the pleasant taste of berries and bubble-gum. It erased any remnant of the gruel and left a refreshing zing over her mouth.

"That was perfect. Thank you, Cal."

The robot took the empty glass from her. "I'm just glad I didn't have to touch that gruel."

"Tell me about it," she said. "Were there any changes while I was gone?"

"Not really. We've been doing some preliminary scans, to get a better handle on what's going on. Whatever they're doing, it's big. Unfortunately they've shielded the area, so we can't get a good look."

"That's okay, I'm going in after dark anyway," Nova said. "I'll get a better look then. For now I need a nap."

"Good. There hasn't been anything else out of the ordinary. There are no other ships on the planet except for the ones you saw and it doesn't look like there are any others approaching either."

"Okay, so they've got all the people they need for whatever this is. How's Crusader's fuel cells?"

"Still leaking. I've patched them up as best I can, but it won't last long. We need money to get new ones. I don't suppose that lovely scientist you spoke to would give you the money?"

"I really don't think he's the type. And even if we had the money, is there anywhere within range we could go?"

"Yes. There's a small repair planet not far from here. I've already checked their inventory. They'll have what we need."

"Good. Let me know if anything changes."

"Confirmed," Cal said.

Nova left the storage bay and went to her sleeping pod, she collapsed into bed and fell instantly asleep.