Chapter XI: Out of the frying pan. . .

The aim of the three kids shifted a little and then they fired. The beams shot passed Rick and hit three of the four figures. Rick dived at the fourth. He grabbed the arm with the blaster, pushing it up and away. It fired as the assailant tried to keep possession of it, cutting a long hole in the side of the warehouse.

The other three ambushers crumpled to the ground as the they were struck by the beams of Rick’s allies. Rick grabbed onto the top of the pistol wielded by the fourth, and brought his knee up into his attacker’s crotch. The assailant let go of the pistol, doubling up in pain. Rick stepped back in satisfaction, and glanced at the others to see what condition they were in. Sym turned and shot the fourth, who stopped moving and collapsed.

“Hey, you didn’t have to do that!” yelled Rick.

For an answer, Sym walked over and flipped up the cloak covering the body. Even while in pain, One of assailant’s hands was in the act of pulling out a holdout weapon.

“Oh, thanks,” said Rick.

“Cum on. We’ve gotta hurry,” said Davy. “The wind’ll be fadin’ soon.” He took off towards the valley wall. Andromeda grabbed Rick’s arm and pulled him along, and he started trotting next to her. Sym followed up behind them, keeping alert for any followers.

It took them about five minutes to reach the wall. Davy followed the wall for another five minutes, and came to a crevice. He motioned for the others to follow him, and he entered. It was about ten feet wide, and the wind and pounding sand ceased as they reached the shelter of the wall. Rick could see that this path was well traveled as they went deeper into the rock. The ground beneath them was smooth from heavy traffic. The light started to get dim the further they went and Andromeda produced a flashlight and lit the way.

They traveled quietly for several minutes. Rick noticed that there were a lot of scrape marks on the sides of the two meter wide cavern. The path had several turns, and where the corners were too tight, they were carved out, apparently by blaster fire. Occasionally the width of the cavern got smaller, but it had been widened, so that it never got smaller than a meter and a half wide. After fifteen minutes, they saw light at the far end of the cavern. Andromeda shut off the light, and they made their way to the opening. The wind had almost died completely down, blowing no harder than about twenty klicks per hour. Rick could dimly see ships parked on the field through the thinning haze of the dust.

“Another five minutes, and it’ll be clear,” said Davy. “But ya gotta run. The pause will only last a minute, then the wind’ll jump right back up. Do ya see your ship yet?”

Rick scanned the field, looking for the unique shape of his interceptor. After a couple of minutes searching, the visibility improved enough that he could see half the field. He spotted his ship about two hundred meters away. “There it is. In the center, off to the left.”

The others followed his gaze. “Wow. That’s your buggy?” asked Davy.

Rick smiled. “Yeah. Ain’t she slick?”

“She’s slick, all right. Okay, get ready.” As he spoke, the wind dropped to almost nothing, and the haze thinned out enough to see the entire landing field. “Okay, go for it.” They dashed across the field, skipping over cables and pipes, and dodging past crewmembers who had suddenly appeared from the terminal and ships to do maintenance. The spaceport personal ignored the running figures, while those from visiting ships watched with curiosity.

It only took them a few seconds to cross the field, and they arrived at the Stingray’s airlock. Rick thumbed the panel, and they entered. The airlock was extremely crowded with the four of them, and Rick found himself between Andromeda and Sym. The feeling of Andromeda crushed against him wasn’t an unpleasant experience, but feeling Sym pressed against his back detracted from the enjoyment.

Rick opened the inner door, and they expanded out into the central corridor of the ship. He moved down to the cargo bay, and the others followed. He dug through his stores, quickly finding three face masks and the set of ceramic knives. He gave Davy the masks and Sym got the knives. Rick pulled out his wallet, and removed the debbie, er debit card, and handed it to Andromeda. “Thanks for you help. I’d love to show you the ship, but we were probably spotted. I would expect starport security to be here any second.”

Davy grinned. “Ya right.” He tossed his old mask aside and placed his new one on, and passed the other two to Andromeda and Sym. They changed masks on their way back to the airlock. Rick opened the outer door for them, and made sure they got out. He sealed the door and raced for the cockpit.

“Aia, power up. We gotta leave now!” shouted Rick.

“Rick, did you commit the crimes that you’re being accused of,” asked Aia.

“What? No! It’s all a setup, Aia. Someone knew we were coming.” Rick made it to the cockpit and jumped into the pilot’s seat. “Are we hot yet?”

“Energizing systems. Voice pattern recognition shows no stress relating to crime questions. Authority intact.”

“What?” asked Rick.

“I received several communications that indicated that you were wanted for the murder of SP agent Larry Morgan, and also wanted for space piracy, that is, stealing this vessel. I know that the latter is untrue, but my security program requires a voice stress level check. Results negative. You remain in command,” explained Aia.

“Thanks. Are we ready to take off yet?”

“Thirty seconds to minimum power boost. Spaceport control is hailing us.”

“Do not respond, Aia. We’re gonna have to blast out of here. The local authorities are working against us. We were framed, Aia.”

“Evidence exists to support that theory, Rick. All moorings disconnected. Sensors show a clear horizon. Three ships are powering up on the edge of the field. By their energy signatures I believe they are interceptors.”

“Can we outrun them?” asked Rick.

“Yes. They are of a discontinued model series. This vessel is rated for 4.5 PPD. They cannot go faster than 3.9 PPD, and our thrusters are at least rated for double theirs.” Aia paused for a second. “Prepare to lift.”

“Go for it, Aia.” Rick felt himself pushed into the seat as Aia lifted off and poured on the acceleration faster than the gravity compensators could handle it. They broke the sound barrier as they passed over the town, and rocketed into the upper atmosphere and into space. Rick watched the sky turn from pink to black, and began to breathe easier as Aia accelerated away from the planet.

“Status of pursuit?” asked Rick.

“The interceptors are following, but they just cleared the upper atmosphere. We’ll be at warp distance before they get halfway here.”

“Great. Warp for Salkar as soon as possible.” Rick got up from his seat. “I’m gonna get something to eat and crash.”

Andromeda watched from the crevice as Rick’s ship lifted off. She worried for a brief second about the other three ships that took off moments later, then heard the sonic boom over the town. She smiled to herself and joined her two companions already hiking back to the other end of the tunnel. They walked in silence until they reached the town. They headed back towards the warehouse, but made a quick detour as they saw police swarming over the area. They wandered towards the main street, the sandy wind whipping up around them. They ducked into an alley for a brief respite from the wind. Andromeda handed Davy the debit card that Rick gave her.

“You guys did a great job. Thanks,” said Andromeda.

Davy shrugged. “Wasn’t much. Kinda fun though. Need anything else?” All slang and accent had vanished from his voice. Sym nodded his agreement.

“That’s all I needed. Thanks again, and good luck.” Andromeda shook Davy’s and Sym’s hands, then turned and walked towards the spaceport. She got inside and headed for the public lockers. There, she retrieved a satchel, and entered a woman’s room. A few minutes later, a more adult appearing version of Andromeda appeared, wearing a black ship suit, exited. She stuffed the satchel into a recycling bin, and headed off towards the private docking section.

Rick woke up several hours later, feeling much refreshed. He got cleaned up and changed, and out of reflex, checked the pockets on his old suit before stuffing it into the reclamation chamber. In one pocket he found a data crystal, and it took him a second to remember what it was. It was the one he recorded the information his mother sent to him. There was some stuff on it for Aia, he recalled. He grabbed a ration bar for breakfast and entered the cockpit, resuming his seat.

“Aia, got something for you.” Rick inserted the crystal into the data slot.

“Interesting.”

“Mom said it was a list of special contacts for me to use while on this mission. Anything there for Salkar?” asked Rick.

“Affirmative. Your official orders are transcribed as well. Wish to see them?”

“Sure.” Rick munched on his ration bar as the orders scrolled across his viewscreen. They were pretty much what his mother told him, though in much more formal language. He finished his bar before the orders finished scrolling. “Figures,” said Rick. “I’m to do whatever I think necessary, as long as I don’t spend any money or destroy property. And I have to report every twenty-four hours, via psigram, but not to break radio silence.”

“Affirmative,” replied Aia. “There is a contact on Salkar, but no psis are listed. Actually, there are no psis listed in the entire contact list.”

Rick snorted. “That’s the military for you. Don’t break radio silence. Report every twenty-four hours via a psi long-range telepath, then not tell you where they are. Great. I can see this is gonna be a real fun mission, not that it hasn’t been already.” Rick laughed. “Maybe the psis will be precog enough to have a psicomm contact me every twenty-four hours so I can report. That'd be real.”

“Not likely,” replied Aia. “There wouldn’t be enough psicomms around to enable you to report every twenty-four hours.”

“I know. They tend to be very rare,” stated Rick. “Unless they plan on assigning me one. How about that? My own personal psicomm, charging the Patrol one hundred credits a hour, twenty- four hours a day, for an indefinite time. Talk about blowing the budget.”

“Again, not likely,” said Aia. “Psicomms are too much in demand for one to be permanently assigned to us.”

Rick looked up at the cabin monitor. “Us, Aia?”

“We are a team, are we not?” asked Aia.

Rick laughed. “Of course we are. I just didn’t expect you to realize it in that fashion. You’re a lot more complex than I realized, that’s all.”

“My design parameters are classified, Rick, so you wouldn’t know. This current design is, for practical purposes, sentient, although the legalities will take a while to work out. That is one of the reasons for the high security. Did you know that I am required to self-destruct rather than risk capture by unfriendly forces?”

“No, I didn’t, but I’m not surprised. I hope I get some warning first, though.”

“I will try my best, Rick,” replied Aia.

“I’m sure you will. How far away are we from Salkar now?”

“ETA in ten hour, thirty minutes.”

“Good. I’m still a little tired. Wake me when we’re two hours away.”

“Salkar Space Control to incoming craft. Please identify self and purpose.” The communicator clicked off.

“‘Bout time they hailed us. We’re only a half hour away from orbit,” commented Rick.

“Their sensors are of low grade. It is a small world, after all, Rick,” replied Aia.

“Any sign of Blackcoat yet?”

“No. If the ship is cloaked, and not moving, we might not be able to spot it.”

Rick grunted in agreement, and activated the planetary comm channel. “Salkar space control, this is Voyager, Captain Nick Silver commanding. Request permission to land.”

“Permission granted, Voyager. Contact ground control on final.”

“Thank you, space control. Voyager out.” Rick shut off the channel. “Well, keep your eyes open.”

The Star Ghost followed the landing beacon down to the planet surface, and landed in a large paved field. The atmosphere was Earth normal, and the gravity was about point eight of Earth. The edges of the field were dotted with silos and warehouses, and a small collection of buildings were grouped at the southern end of the field, with a ten meter tall control tower. The surrounding landscape was flat, reminding Rick of the North American midwest. A large orange sun hung overhead, giving the sky a purplish hue. There were two other ships on the field, both bulk freighters. There was a group of cargo handlers over by one. The ship’s cargo doors were open, and vehicles were moving in and out of the starship.

“How old is this colony, anyway?” asked Rick.

“Salkar four was discovered fifty years ago. It was released for colonization twelve years ago after the science council decided that the local flora and fauna were biologically harmless to offworld humanoid lifeforms. The colony began exporting foodstuffs in the forms of various grains and animal by-products three years ago,” reported Aia.

“And we actually have a contact here?” asked Rick.

“Yes. A Colonel Darren. He runs the Last Stop Inn, one of three places at the spaceport that dispenses alcoholic beverages.”

“Well, better go meet him.” Rick started to leave the cockpit.

“Rick, wait. May I suggest taking a communicator? It would be useful if you ran into any trouble. There are several in the storage locker.”

Rick went to the locker and dug through it. After five minutes, he found a box. Inside were four wrist communicators, with built-in LCD clocks. He slipped one on his wrist. “Testing, one, two, three . . .”

“Reading, fine,’ reported Aia.

“Great.” Rick went to the airlock and opened the door. A dry, warm breeze greeted him. The dry air made him cough slightly, and he reached for a pair of sun visors that were in a compartment in the airlock. After he donned those, the glare of the bright light didn’t blind him anymore. He could make out three figures heading in his direction, their outlines blurred by the radiating heat from the tarmac. “Looks like we have a welcoming committee.”

Rick waited outside the ship for the three figures to approach. All three were wearing sunvisors similar to his, and all three were in uniform. As they came closer, he could see that all were men in uniforms, and two were wearing sidearm. As a precaution, Rick closed the outer door to the ship, then spoke out to the three approaching officials. “Hello. I’m Nick Silver. Can I help you?”

The lead figure, who was also the smallest and not wearing a sidearm, walked right up to Rick. The other two halted five meters away. The short one handed Rick a sheet of folded paper, and spoke. “Nick Silver, you are under arrest for the theft of a starship, and of blasting out of the Jameson three spaceport. Your ship is impounded. Please come with me.”

“Wha. . .” said Rick. The other two men, obviously security, placed their hands on the butts of their weapons.

“Please don’t resist, Captain Silver.” The small man reached past Rick and pressed an orange seal across the airlock seal. The tag read, “IMPOUNDED by authority of the Salkar Space Control. Unlawful removal of this sticker violates law one hundred forty three, Section five, paragraph two, of Interstellar Code.

One of the security guards stepped forward with a pair of cuffs.

To Be Continued...