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Martyn K Jones; A walk on the dark side of Science Fiction
Martyn K Jones
Martyn K Jones Published Works
Category:
Science Fiction
ISBN-10: B00PR0B9H6
Pages: 602
Copyright: Jun 17 2013
ISBN-13: 9781304107091
Price: $3.99 (eBook)
The second volume of the 'Stars' trilogy
Falling through the stars, the second volume in the decade spanning epic Stars Trilogy builds upon the themes expounded in The Sky full of Stars, where the Gaian threat is now neutralised, and North America reigns supreme. Although not quite.
In the free trade enclave of the Vancouver Republic built from post catastrophe Vancouver, Vancouver Island and Seattle, free traders branch out to the stars. Blockade running becomes the new career option for disgraced pilots like Richard Windsor. Colonies and bases abandoned during the Gaian war openly and covertly secede.
Deals are made, Presidents assassinated, and ruthless assassins stalk an exile for his epigenetically altered live DNA. This is the galaxy of the Stars Trilogy, where mankind is the alien, and the universe the prize.
Excerpt
From Section 3.3.3
Richard chewed on a highly illegal small bar of dark chocolate, a substance banned throughout both Europe and North America, while he watched Novi One being loaded and fuelled. He was perched on a small trailer unit that no one was using right now, sapphire eyes intent. Impatient for launch. He’d been assigned a room in the refurbished hotel complex everyone else used, but hadn’t even left his single travel bag there.
Fuelling hoses were still attached and pumping tonnes of reactor fuel mix into the Novi’s capacious tanks. Enough to fly over a hundred and eighty light years. All of it for him alone. They’d tried to assign a training pilot, but of course he’d refused. Novi One was his, and his alone. Martine had taken the extra mouth, as he thought of it. Richard didn’t want the distraction from his primary task, which was blockade running.
“So.” Ahmed leaned on the little electric vehicle a respectful metre away. “They’ll be expecting us to do the Midwest Lunar breakout again. Any ideas?” He asked, looking sidelong at Richard speculatively.
Richard took out his iCell and keyed up the holographic display. “North Pacific at low level. Swing North towards Sakhalin and do a complete one eighty before breakout directly over Sakhalin. Russian Air Traffic control will clear that region of local aircraft shortly before we arrive. Diverging trans orbital vectors as before with a seven point nine degree course separation. Short transition at one point four two Lunar distances, to outside the asteroid belt where we rejoin about here.” He pointed to an area half way to Jupiter orbit two million kilometres to the gas giants trailing Trojan asteroid field. “Then we can vector out together on our second run to New Philadelphia. We can lay off Comms silence and use radio telemetry to locate, then use lasers for general chatter once we’re within one light second of each other. Earth won’t know where we are until we’re long gone, and maybe not even then.”
“Why don’t we backtrack over Eastern Gaian territory? Martine said she directly overflew Sicily and there wasn’t so much as a tweet of a target seeker.” Ahmed suggested with that slightly knowing smile of his.
“We’ll save that for when the CDF actually get smart.” Richard shut off his iCell and stared back at the fuelling crew, who were getting ready to shut down the pumps. “Not that that’s likely.” He flashed Ahmed a confident grin. “I’m going to get some sleep. I’ll catch you later.” Richard walked off, whistling a tune that somehow grated on Ahmeds more sophisticated sensibilities. Martine arrived with the three trainee pilots, all scrubbed and keen. She wrinkled her nose. “Lilibolero?” She said, her distaste obvious. Once a Brit, always a Brit. She gave a sigh that was half resignation, half desire. Nice ass though.
“You mean..” Ahmed said, pointing at Richard’s retreating back with his thumb.
“The last Prince.” She said. “Last of the British Royal family. You know, my Aunt said she’d sided with the Gaians, just to rid Ireland of the bastards, and how much she regretted it afterwards.”
“I thought Ireland was independent of England?” Ahmed seemed surprised.
“Most of it since 1919. The rest over a century later, when Reunion was declared in the twenty fifties.”
“That was half a century ago.” Protested Ahmed.
“Still meddling in Irish politics up right until the European Gaian regime took over in sixty one. Sixty two the Gaians did for the French, Dutch, Belgian, Italian and German Independence movements. One after another. Then they went for the Brits, the Scots, Portuguese and Spanish secessionist groups. My Auntie said she even cheered when the War Borgs chopped the Secessionists down in London. She wasn’t cheering so hard when those god awful things came to Dublin and Belfast. Nor when they came down our street.” Martine said bitterly. “Now I’d cheer the Windsors back to power, given that I’ve seen the alternative.”
“Mmm.” Ahmed said sceptically. The three trainees kept silent. “I’ll say this about him, he’s a good tactician.”
“A born leader of men, and women.” She leaned on the Electric tractor, watching Richard disappear inside the massive grey cylinder of Novi One. Ahmed caught the intense wistfulness of her expression. You could almost smell the pheromones.
“Indeed.” He said carefully.
“Novi One to control.”
“Hi Boss.” The image of Leroy Colby materialised in front of him.
“Hello Leroy. Any news on Cargo?” Richard lay comfortably in the Novi’s control web, cabin lights on minimum.
“Not yet. There’s a surface ship en route from Japan with three road builders on board. The munitions you asked for are on board Two, food processing machinery already loaded on One, with the cloth synthesiser en route. Should arrive this evening. Load by midnight.”
“Got status on the reactors?”
“Novi One has a replacement due in another hundred and fifty hours flight operations. Two and Three another two hundred and twenty. You could probably run them for another two hundred hours after that at full power, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Injectors and linings abrade from all the superheated plasma. We used to swap out a type nineteen for every two hundred and fifty hours of operation when we could. The new Loesser-Yang design installed in the Novi has over double the life and treble the power output, but all small Fusion units fail after short operating lives. Only the massive land based reactors with bigger plasma capacity last for a year at a time, and even they need carefully scheduled injector replacement.”
“I always left that sort of thing to you guys. I fly these things. I don’t build them.”
“Each to his own eh, Boss?”
“Yeah.” Richard called up as much information on the Trojan Asteroid cluster as he could and spaced each downloaded file in subject arrays.
“Boss?” Leroy broke into his thought stream.
“What is it Leroy?”
“Me, Simmonds and Chesney were wondering when you were going to join us for a drink. To celebrate us working together again.”
“Leroy, you know I can’t abide the stuff.”
“Why is that?”
“I just can’t. One mouthful makes me want to throw my ring harder than a rail gun. I’ve always been that way, you know that. Anything stronger than fruit juice and I’m a vomit soaked wreck in the corner.”
“Okay Boss.” Leroy sounded amused.
“I’m not refusing simply to slight you, you know. I just can’t touch alcohol.”
“Just checking Boss.”
“No problem. I’ll happily join you three reprobates for a meal, but no booze.”
“Sure.” Leroy seemed happy with that.
“Any updated telemetry on those North American CDF blockade patrols?”
“Satellite feed’s due for update in about thirty minutes.” Leroy reached out of camera view and picked up a mug of coffee. He sipped it thoughtfully. “You know, in all the time I’ve known you, you’ve always seemed a righteous sort of guy, yet here you are, cheerfully piloting for an effective outlaw state.”
“Might say the same about you.” Richard replied.
“Yeah, but it’s different for me, its family. You’ve not got that excuse.”
“Well.” Richard said reflectively. “It’s just where I’ve ended up I suppose. Never given it much thought. Apart from why me.”
“You think God’s kind of given up on you?”
“No. But I’ve sometimes wished he’d leave me alone.” Richard grinned.
“I know you Boss, you like alone.”
“Yes.”
“Ever wondered why?”
“Yes.”
“Any answers?”
“I’m the last of my kind.”
“Boss, you’re the only one of your kind.”
“And who is that?”
“Best damn starship pilot ever born.”
“If I drank, I’d drink to that.”
“Me too.” Leroy toasted him with his coffee mug.
“It’ll have to do.”
“Amen.” Leroy signed off.
Richard keyed in a sequence and fired up the simulator. It paid to keep in practice.
Later on, he slept in the control web, waking only briefly when a ‘manifest complete’ alert indicated the fourth and final cargo pod was fully loaded. He smiled and went back to sleep. Richard was awakened two hours later by a buzzer he wasn’t familiar with. “What is it?” He demanded.
“Armed incursion!” Simmonds panicky face stared out of her hologram at him. “North American Special Forces Boss.”
“How did they find us?”
“Tracked the cargoes I guess.”
“Where are the other pilots?”
“Taken. They were in the Hotel.”
“Where’s Leroy and Chesney?”
“Setting demolition charges on Two and Three.”
“Get on board. Now.”
“What?”
“Get on board. We’re going.”
“I. I.” Simmonds stuttered.
“Ellie, get your arse on board or I’ll drag it on!” Richard snapped harshly. Her image disappeared. Richard swore and keyed Leroy and Chesney who didn’t answer.
He keyed into local surveillance to see armed Helivanes and Helicopters deployed in key firing positions all around the lake. Various buildings were zeroed, but not the innocent seeming warehouse with all its cargo doors locked. “Hell!” He swore again.
“Boss?” A timid, tearful voice came from the open hatchway behind him.
“Ellie.” Richard spoke softly but firmly. “Come in, get to the rear cabin, and secure yourself in my sleep unit. Okay?”
“I, I can’t.” She sniffed. It’s cl-closed in. I can’t do closed in.” She whimpered.
“Yes you can!” Chesney shoved her upwards into the cabin where she curled up foetus like on the floor, sobbing gently.
“Okay Boss, Leroy is just behind me.” Chesney said, but from his haunted expression it was plain he didn’t much care for the enclosed interior of a starship. He clambered up as fast as his artificial legs would push him. “That hurts.” He said. “No fucking legs to speak of and they still hurt.”
“Richard!” Leroy scampered up through the hatchway. “Don’t do what I think you’re going to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t bust out from the roof at full speed.” Leroy spoke quickly. “Humour me on this one.”
“THIS IS THE BUREAU OF ALCOHOL, TOBACCO AND FIREARMS!” Shouted the speaker as the invaders tapped into the main base comm channel. Richard set the maximum decibel count on the internal comms to 60 so he couldn't be deafened. “This is an illegal smuggling operation! You will all surrender!”
Another signal broke in. “Is this thing on?” Grumbled the voice of an older man.
“Yes Mister Colby.” Came the voice of some anonymous technician.
“This is William Colby. Mayor of Nanaimo. Managing Regional Councillor for the Vancouver republic. This is an illegal incursion onto sovereign territory. You will release our citizens at once or be subject to summary arrest and imprisonment.” The voice boomed, then continued in more conversational tones. “Where do you boys and girls think you are, the Wild West or something? You can’t just come busting into legitimate trading operations like this.”
“We have jurisdiction!” Snapped the DEA Agent making the announcement.
“My cute and furry arse you do.” Retorted the holographic image of Bill Colby. “Get off our land, Cowboy.”
“You will surrender or we will open fire!”
“On ninety two unarmed civilians? I thought you North Americans were above that sort of thing. I have a signed writ of cease and desist sworn out and valid under both Vancouverite and North American Law.” The holographic image held up some form of document. “If that is not enough you should be hearing target lock alarms shrieking on all your personnel and aircraft. Put down your weapons or we will take action to secure our property.”
“We have jurisdiction!” Snarled the Agent.
“Do they teach you listening skills at Quantico, Agent McCleary?” Came the world weary voice of Bill Colby.
“This facility is operating in breach of North American Customs law!”
“Which isn’t on North American soil.” Bill Colby pointed out mildly.
“We..” Agent McCleary began, but was taken off guard by being identified so readily during a supposedly secret operation.
“Oh do shut up.” Snapped Bill Colby, and a hovering Helivanes flotation bags blossomed with three separate bright orange fireballs in the early morning darkness. It began to drift to the ground, trailing streamers of flame where the bags were punctured. “If you know your weaponry, you will know that is the heat and detonation signature of a Russian made Mir 32 stealth missile. Now leave my people in peace or do you all want to be shot down where you stand?” He added pleasantly.
“This is an illegal operation!” Snapped McCleary.
“Not here it ain’t.” Growled Bill Colby. “Now are you going to stand down or be shot down? After of course..” He paused for effect. “You goddamn well apologise for getting me out of bed at this godforsaken hour!”
Over the communication channels there was a silence apart from the background noise of shrieking ‘Target Lock’ alarms. After thirty seconds Agent McCleary gave the reluctant order. “Secure all weapons. Withdraw.”
“Hold it right there.” Snarled the Holographic shade of Bill Colby. “All weapons will be secured and surrendered right now, or have you brought enough body bags for everyone?” There was another strained pause. “Don’t keep me waiting.”
On the security camera network, black body armoured figures reluctantly stood up, and began to walk away, hands in the air and on helmeted heads, towards a single assembly point near the lake shore. Helivanes put down on the apron right outside the big false warehouse building and crews disembarked. The four Helicopters joined them, two man crews stepping out after rotors had wheeled to a halt. They reluctantly joined the dejected huddle of DEA agents at the shoreline.
Two minutes later, five Police pursuit vehicles with sirens screaming passed through automatic gates into the depot. Nine startled rural Policemen found themselves dealing with a paramilitary force of over eighty. The local Watch Commander, a muscular Sergeant more used to breaking up bar loads of fighting drunks, found himself addressing the whole embarrassed invasion force. “You have the right to legal representation..” He began. “Hey! Can you guys hear me a’ the back!” He yelled.
Inside Novi One, Chesney and Leroy howled with laughter as local holographic coverage caught the expressions of the captured DEA task force. Richard eyed the four Helivanes and five assault Helicopters sitting on the apron outside of the false fronted hangar. Simmonds huddled at the back of the cabin, looking desperately at the exit hatch. “All right people.” Richard said at last. “Looks like the fun’s over.” He keyed the exit hatch. Ellie Simmonds bolted down the ladder to the hangar and threw up violently on the smooth screeded plasticrete, helplessly retching until Leroy and Chesney descended and led her to a bathroom. Then they began work dismantling the demolition charges. Richard went back to sleep. The whole incident had lasted twelve minutes.
On a bright sunny morning, the DEA agents were fed, allowed to go to the bathroom one at a time, and then huddled into three container trucks with blankets culled from trade supplies for the colonists. Local security guards picked up dropped weaponry, and ferry pilots hired to move the Helivanes and ‘Copters to Port Hardy airport. The trucks left for the nearest Courtroom at Campbell River. By late afternoon the site was mostly clear and the routine of transport and loading resumed.
“That was close.” Leroy commented over the comms circuit later that day. “I really thought the whole operation was blown.”
“I was on the point of powering up the drive and taking the whole roof with me.” Richard remarked, as he dined on Orange Juice and a Protein bar.
“I know. That would really have put the cat amongst the pigeons. According to Police interrogation video’s, the DEA thought this was a workaday smuggling depot.” Leroy sipped coffee. “We’re not going to be doing any flying for a few days, at least until the road makers get here. Hey, fancy a trip out to Campbell River?”
“What’s there?”
“Salmon fishing, best fish Cuisine on the Island, Small Port. A little night life. Oh, and a court room, where a fairly interesting case is playing out. They brought a Judge all the way up from the fleshpots of Victoria to try the case. It’s Judge Chief Wilson. He won’t take long.”
“Why’s that?”
“He hates seafood.”
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