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Page 8
Hilden pointed to the narrow space, gesturing for Kelvin to go through. He looked around to make sure they were alone before following.
They reached the back of the warehouse, emerging in a run-down yard. Old machinery, unused crates, and other paraphernalia dotted the square.
Hilden pulled open the lid of a disposal unit against one wall.
Kelvin was about to ask what he was doing when the unit swung aside as if on hinges.
Realizing it was, in fact, a door of sorts, his jaw hung ajar. Admiral Dyson and his team were taking the top-secret stuff very seriously.
Hilden prompted him to go inside. A flashlight came on, lighting the descending stairwell.
“Almost there,” Hilden said, pushing by.
Reaching the bottom, Hilden swiped an ID card much like the one in Kelvin’s pocket, and the metal door swung open.
They walked through the adjoining hallway and arrived at a much larger security door.
“You guys sure like your security.”
“It’s not secure enough if you ask me,” Hilden muttered.
The officer looked at a security camera for several second before gears started to turn, lifting the heavy panel into the ceiling.
The door dropped as soon as they were across the threshold.
A redheaded woman stood at a control panel opposite them.
She turned to greet them and Kelvin’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. “Lora?”
“The one and only,” she said with a mock bow as they approached.
“I didn’t expect to see you down here.”
“I’m glad Officer Hilden kept things under wraps. Some people aren’t so good at keeping their mouths shut, especially Bradley Smyth.”
“Smyth is here?”
“And a few other guys from our old unit. Though, they all clocked out for the day hours ago. Admiral Dyson headhunted a few of us after the court-martial.”
“You too, huh?”
She shrugged. “It’s not so bad. This has been a sweet gig so far. And it pays better.”
He stared at her in silence for a few seconds.
“Is everything okay, Lieutenant…I mean Kelvin?”
“Ah, yes…You’re looking good is all. I mean…you always looked good.” Blood rushed to his cheeks as he fumbled with the words. “It’s just…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in casuals before.”
“It won’t be the only thing you see for the first time today.”
“You’re telling me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s already been a long day.”
“Just wait ‘til you see what’s inside, but Admiral Dyson wants to speak with us first.”
“I’ve got work to do elsewhere,” Hilden said. “I’ll see you later, Kelvin. Well done out there.”
“Thanks for getting me here.”
Hilden nodded then swiped his access key and walked through a side door.
“The admiral is this way,” Lora said.
Kelvin blinked hard again. Part of his brain thought he’d stumbled into some kind of alternate reality. Things had changed so drastically in such a short space of time he supposed reality actually had become alternate in a way.
Lora swiped them through another set of doors, and let him through a series of corridors and junctions.
“So, you like it here,” he said, trying to break the silence.
“I love it here. We’re really busy at the minute, making preparation for your flight, not to mention the countless other projects, but I enjoy being kept on my toes.”
“That’s good.”
Lora stopped outside a door that seemed just like all the others. “Here we are.”
She knocked and the door slid open, admitting them.
Admiral Dyson was standing by his desk reading a compad.
“Kelvin, I’m glad you and Hilden made it here okay. When we found out one of the secure servers on Starship Atticus had been hacked, we sent for you right away.”
“Hilden told me they knew where I was staying, but not who I am.”
“That’s correct. Nothing in the data that was stolen could have tied the apartment back to your real name. Your family are fine for the time being, and the sooner we find that data source the sooner they will be safe for good.”
Lora checked her chronograph. “Speaking of which, Commander Tassels has just informed me that all preflight checks are complete.”
“Splendid,” Admiral Dyson said. “Shall we show Kelvin the crown jewel?”
She nodded. “Let’s visit the hangar.”
“This place has a hangar? I thought I’d be launching from a spaceport.”
Admiral Dyson shook his head as they followed Lora back through the corridors. “We had considered it, but the board decided it was too risky.”
“This is a serious operation down here.”
“It is indeed.” The admiral chuckled. “It’s been years in the making. The facility was originally built as a bombardment bunker. But when the operations grew in scale, so did the building.”
They reached a set of blast doors. Lora swiped her card and an orange light flashed above the black and yellow panel as it slid out of the way.
She and the admiral walked through the wide opening and Kelvin followed.
Flood lights sparked to life as they entered, revealing what lay inside.
A black ship rested in the middle of a wide bay. Behind her, giant launch doors spread the length of the hangar.
“What the hell is that?”
“She’s a prototype RS Model 5,” Lora boasted. “One of a kind. We call her Sable.”
“Impressive.”
“You have no idea. Triple orbit-bound boosters. Twin plasma canons and two space to space torpedo bays. A neutrino jump system, state-of-the-art stealth drive, and most importantly, a comfortable cabin.” Lora looked at the vessel like a mother would a child who made her proud. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg too. Ships like her won’t come onto the open market for years.”
“I can’t wait to take her out for a ride.”
“Good,” Admiral Dyson said, “because we need you to take her out tonight.”
“So soon? But I’ve never flown her.”
“Don’t worry,” Lora assured him. “The cockpit has been modeled after your Weiser T-Class. Most of the controls are the same. I made a few adjustments to the rest of the interior so you would feel at home.”
“Thank you,” he said, unable to take his eyes off the vessel. “I can’t believe I really get to fly that thing. She’s a monster.”
“She’s got a lot more real estate than a standard fighter, that’s for sure.”
Admiral Dyson cleared his throat. “I’ll go speak with Commander Tassels about the preparations. You could show Kelvin to the suiting room.”
“Of course, sir.”
With that, the admiral took off back the way they’d come.
Lora led him through a door on the opposite wall.
Lockers, two walls, and a bench ran down the middle of the room. On the far wall, a computer terminal sat in power-saving mode.
“Your locker is the last on the right. It has your flight suit and everything else you need. If you have any questions, consult the terminal, or you can give me a call. I’ll send you my contact info.”
She tapped her chronograph and Kelvin’s buzzed a few seconds later.
Kelvins head started to spin. “I can’t believe I’ll be flying that thing soon.”
“You better take good care of Sable, Kelvin. I’ve grown quite fond of her.”
“Don’t worry. She’s in safe hands.”
She looked at him as if he was joking. “I need to consult with Commander Tassels before you take off. I’ll come see you off before you go.”
Lora walked to the door.
“Lora,” Kelvin said. “Could you do me a big favor?”
“It depends on what it is.”
“The message the enemy are piggy-backing off. It mentioned a Doct
or Michelle Riley. Could you run a background check on her for me and send the details through when you can?”
“Sure. How come?”
“The way the Fox guy spoke about her…it seemed like she was someone special to him, yet she was a human and he was a Vosan. I guess it would also make me feel a bit better about the mission, like I know a little more about what I’m getting into. Everything has been so…secret until now.”
“I understand. I can’t see it being a problem.”
“Would it be a problem if I asked you to keep it on the DL?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “That depends on your reasons.”
“The Admiral and his team have invested a lot in me since the Delta Games situation. They’ve shown a lot of trust, and I wouldn’t want them to feel like I’m spitting in their faces.”
“That seems fair. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll look into it if I get a chance.”
“That’s all I can ask for.”
The door slid open and she turned before exiting. “Oh, and Mister Perry,” she said in a mocking tone. “That haircut suits you.”
She spun on her heel and exited the launch bay.
Kelvin watched her leave, feeling somewhat at a loss. Lora seemed like a completely different person. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but she seemed a lot less uptight…like she actually enjoyed her work, and Kelvin realized that he was happy for her.
He turned away and found his locker exactly where she said it would be.
He frowned at the label. They could have come up with a better name.
11
Fox Hole
Fox peered out from under the garbage disposal unit’s lid, a rag stuffed in his nostrils to stop himself from puking.
He wasn’t certain how long he’d been out for, but going by the blood caked on his fur it had been most of the night and at least half of the morning.
His limbs still ached from his trip down the spire. After jumping from the window, he expected a quick plunge to his death. Instead, he slid down the side of the building at speed but managed to slow himself a great deal by sinking his claws into the dark mortar. If not for the scaffolding around a damaged buttress, he wouldn’t have made it. Using the pipes and boards, he swiftly made his way to the base of the spire and sped off into the streets, Drahk guards on his heels.
He spent the rest of the day on the run and finally lost the Drahk in the sewers. He moved on from there in case they returned until locating his current hiding spot less than a kilometer from the nearest city gate. Not that a city gate was going to be of any use. No doubt, Lord Vismark had ordered that security be tightened at every possible exit.
He listened for signs of activity, and on hearing none, climbed his temporary fox hole.
“I can’t believe I got so close to Sasha,” he muttered under his breath.
He clenched his jaw against his aching body as he climbed from the disposal unit.
His under-armor was stained every color under the sky; from dark crusty crimson, to slimy green and brown. He peeled the clothing off, trying to ignore how it stuck to his fur in places.
Free of the worst of the stench, he stretched a kink out of his left shoulder then fetched the Drahk rifle from the dumpster and plodded off through the alleyway.
He unplugged his nose and tucked the rag under his sleeve. The sudden sensory assault caused his gut to convulse, but he brought himself under control. It didn’t help that he hadn’t eaten properly in days. But he needed his nose. Without it, he would wander headfirst into danger.
Hell, I even end up in danger with it half the time.
He wandered aimlessly trying to come up with a plan as he walked. He’s been so distracted by the events of the previous day, he barely had head space to think. He couldn’t figure out how a slave lord had bypassed ASTRA’s rigorous background checks. He would have to bring it up with the board representative during his debriefing when he got back to HQ. He looked around the alleyway as the sun slowly crept over the buildings ahead, casting long shadows. “If I get back to HQ,” he mumbled, wincing at the alien sound of his voice. “At least it’s not so sore today.”
A pity I can’t say the same for the rest of my body.
As he slowly made his way through the alleyways towards the storage yard, he considered several ideas, but nothing seemed plausible. The roof tops were out of the question, especially since several ships had passed overhead since his escape, no doubt searching for him. Sneaking aboard a vehicle bound for the jungle wouldn’t work either. For one thing, he didn’t know which vehicles were heading that way. And even if he did, the guards at the gates would be carrying out checks after his antics on the spire.
He continued in the direction of the gate, nonetheless, unable to come up with an alternative solution. The longer he remained in one place, the greater the chances the Drahk would find him.
He thought about waiting until nightfall to sneak past the guards, hoping to find them asleep.
Who am I kidding? The Drahk might not have great noses, but this stink would wake them from a coma.
He reached the edge of the alleyway network and skipped across the quiet road, relieved to find that workers hadn’t yet shown up for their shift at the storage yard. He remained cautious all the same, picked his way through the avenues between the stacked storage containers with purpose.
He reached the edge of the storage yard.
A siren rang out in the distance, and he froze under the shadow of containers stacked five-high.
The siren was still pretty far away, but he decided to wait in case it got closer.
As he eased back into the shadows, another search ship suddenly appeared overhead, its thundering engines blasting him with hot hair.
He squeezed between the wide corrugated folds in the container behind, praying to gods he didn’t believe in that the vessel hadn’t spotted him.
It blasted off, heading along the dome perimeter.
Bastards must be sweeping the edges, checking the gates.
He listened for the siren again and heard it still wailing back in the city center. Hopefully, they would stay there.
Double checking the area was clear, he sprang over the yard’s fence and clambered up the side of the mud wall, ignoring the exhaustion in his bones as he pulled himself over the parapet. He fell onto his back, panting.
He was about to get up and check the hatch he’d used to get inside the city, when the search vehicle returned.
He sidled up to the parapet, and worked his way in a crouch, watching the vehicle through a crack in the wall.
The ship landed to the mud-packed ground and a ramp descended from its rear. Two Drahk marched down the ramp and ventured into the tunnel.
Reinforcements, just as I suspected.
To his surprise, the ship remained where it had landed.
He watched for a while to see what happened.
The deployed guards returned and hurried back up the ramp with four more armed Drahk on their heels.
What are they doing?
The ship’s ramp retracted and it lifted into the sky. Its boosters fired and it shot back toward the city center.
Just below the sound of its roaring engines, Fox made out more sirens in the direction it was heading.
Something had happened back that way. Something big. Part of him wondered what it was. The other part told him to hurry up before they returned.
He ran for the hatch. Four guards had left the post. If his luck held up, he’d only find two. That many he could deal with.
Reaching the hatch, he hoisted the Drahk rifle and slowly lifted the access panel, popping his head down for a look before committing.
No life inside the tunnel.
A bang to the left caught his attention.
He looked to the city-center. Several pillars of black smoke spiraled toward missing sections of the dome.
Fighting had broken out inside the city.
He guessed another salve lord had decided to mak
e trouble, but it didn’t matter. The Drahk settlement was no longer his problem.
He jumped through the hatch, coming up with the rifle ready.
Still no one. Good.
He quietly moved to the end of the tunnel, finding the maintenance gate had been left open.
Strange.
He proceeded cautiously, suspecting the Drahk had set a trap. Reaching the door, he leaned against the metal frame and slowly poked his head out.
The coast was clear.
An explosion inside the city rocked the ground.
The fight must be serious. They must have called all the guards from the gate.
He looked outside one more time, confirming he was clear. He dashed for a nearby tree, expecting the trap to spring.
To his amazement, he reached the tree without a fight.
He looked back at the gate one more time. There was no telling how soon they would be back or if the fighting would spill into the jungle.
He spared a final thought for Sasha then pushed it aside. The girl was a lost cause. It pained him to admit it, but he would have to break his streak.
He scratched the throbbing scar on his neck.
Better than breaking something more important.
Sniffing to make sure the way was clear, he lifted the rifle to his shoulder and sprinted through the underbrush, tracing his route back to Hopper, glad to leave R1 and all its damn problems behind.
Fox’s ears twitched as he listened for the Drahk hunting party.
He almost stumbled into them around a hundred meters back as they marched back to the city.
He wasn’t sure if they’d followed him, and he had no desire to hang around and find out, but his legs refused to carry him any further.
He rested against a rotten tree stump by the swamp, the islet a mere stone’s throw away, his aching body threatening to collapse, forcing him to stop and catch his breath.
Trust me to get this far only to be caught at the last second.
He panted hard, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. His hand rubbed the fresh scar at his throat and he jerked in pain.
Must be infected.
That explained the dizziness and his sudden lack of energy.