Drifter (30 page)

There was a long silence as the two men looked at each other. One secure within the possibilities of youth, the other scared to let opportunities pass, afraid they wouldn't come again.

Lando was the first to speak. "So you're betting that Morlan is corrupt, and more than that, willing to do a straight deal."

Zack nodded. "My contacts tell me that he's as bent as a Zerk Monkey's tail. Not only that, but I've spoken with people who did deals with him, and were extremely pleased."

"Five million credit deals?"

Zack shrugged defensively. "No, but that doesn't mean anything."

"No," Lando admitted. "I suppose it doesn't."

"So you'll give me a hand?"

Lando forced a smile. "Sure, Dad. I'll give you a hand."

Zack beamed and jumped out of his chair. "I'll make us some lunch." His bare feet made a slapping noise as he headed for the galley.

Lando looked up at the main screen. A school of brightly colored fish exploded in every direction. A long torpedo-shaped body swept by, its dorsals cutting the water like knives, its long curving teeth visible behind thin lips. The smuggler shivered and turned away.

19

It was evening and the stars twinkled in the sky. A migratory bird, one of those genetically engineered for Ithro, gave its characteristic call. It was a long, lonely sound, made even more so by the fact that there were no females present to hear it, and wouldn't be for another five hundred miles.

There was activity deep underwater. The sea started to boil. Steam rose in a sudden rush. The bird blinked and shifted its weight from one leg to another. Fatigue fought the urge to take flight.

Fear won and the bird flapped away as a delta-shaped hunk of black metal broke the surface and hovered on roaring repulsors. Water ran off the thing's back in sheets, four pillars of steam pushed it upwards, and the air vibrated to its power.

Lando looked at his father with renewed respect. He'd never seen anyone attempt an underwater liftoff before, and Zack made it appear easy.

The older man checked his readouts, found everything to his liking, and switched to main drive.
Queenie
skimmed across the water, picked up speed, and lifted towards the sky.

Finally, when the ship was cruising at two hundred feet or so, they leveled out. The last thing Zack wanted to do was show up on radar.

"How far is it?"

Zack Lando eyed his scanners for any sign of company, found none, and spoke without turning his head. "The island is about two hundred miles due south. We'll be there in half an hour or so."

Lando felt the weight in his stomach grow even heavier. Every nerve in his body told him to give it up, to go somewhere else, to run for safety. He searched his father's face. If the other man had similar feelings, there was no sign of it in his expression. Determination, yes. Excitement, yes. But fear? No.

Lando forced his doubts down and back. The decisionmaking process was over. This was the time to prepare for whatever lay ahead. He brought
Queenie's
weapons systems on-line, ran them through an auto-check, and found everything to his liking. Energy cannon, missiles, and torpedos. All were ready to go.

Lando placed the weapons systems on STANDBY, checked to make sure that the co-pilot's position was off-line, and switched his controls to the simulation mode. An indicator light came on and the word "simulation" blinked green in front of him.

He opened a small storage compartment, removed a bundle of slippery black cloth, and shook it out. The fabric took the shape of a hood. There were no cutouts for mouth or eyes.

Lando slipped it over his head. The inside of the hood smelled like warm plastic and reminded him of years gone by. He'd spent hundreds, maybe thousands, of hours inside the simulation hood, dealing with everything from hyperspace jumps to galley fires.

An exact duplicate of
Queenie's
control systems and screens appeared in front of him. He turned his head to the left and a simulacrum called Instructor Jack nodded to him. He was holo-star handsome and extremely smug. Lando ignored the computerized image. Instructor Jack and he had never gotten along.

A menu of possibilities appeared. Lando used the button located on the top surface of his left-hand control stick to choose BATTLE, SIMULATED GROUND.

Another menu appeared. COMMAND, OR WEAPONS ONLY?

Lando chose WEAPONS ONLY. Simulated data and video flooded his screens. The smuggler saw a rocky landscape with twin moons rising to the east. Wait a minute, what was that? A hint of movement to the right? Maybe, but there was no confirmation on IR, so…

The world turned to flame. Instructor Jack screamed orders. A hundred dark forms rushed forward. Their energy weapons spat coherent light, missiles leaped away from their shoulders, and mortar rounds threw geysers of dirt into the air.

Lando found that the old skills were still there, that the simulator could still scare the hell out of him, and that Instructor Jack was still a pain in the ass.

When Lando pulled the hood off ten minutes later, he was soaked with sweat. His father glanced his way. There was tension around his eyes. "Welcome back. Ten to dirt. Stand by on weapons."

Lando did as he was told. All weapons were ready. Time slowed. Each second was a minute long. Zack watched the scanners. Sweat popped out on his forehead. He wiped it away.

A line of white breakers appeared and slid beneath them.
Queenie
dropped lower now, skimming above sandy desert, slowing as she neared the LZ.

A radio beacon beeped, and dots in the shape of a cross appeared in front of them. Zack killed the ship's forward speed, switched to repellors, and spoke from the corner of his mouth. "Watch the bastards, son…. One wrong move and hose 'em down."

Lando swallowed hard and felt bile at the back of his throat. He'd never seen his father this scared. Not the time on Dulo's moon, not when they lost the NAVCOMP halfway to Jethro, and not when the half-crazy merc attacked him with a force blade. It worried Lando to know that the man he'd always relied on, always looked up to, felt the same emotions that he did.

The red dots flattened and grew farther apart as the ship lowered itself onto the sand. It shifted under the landing jacks and held. Zack triggered a spot. It lit up the area in front of
Queenie's
lock. The red dots disappeared.

A male voice came over the speakers. "Hi there. Thanks for dropping in. Pop the cargo hatch and let's get this show on the road."

Zack spoke into a wireless headset as he released his harness. "Not so fast, my friend. Show me five big ones or the hatch stays closed."

"No problem," the voice replied. "I've got them right here. Cash certificates good anywhere in the empire. Come and get 'em."

There was something about the voice, something about the glib way the man talked, that set Lando's nerves on edge. "Stay in the ship, Dad… I don't like the way this guy sounds."

Zack Lando shook his head and touched the mute-switch on his headset. "We came for the money, remember? Now, watch the sensors, pop the rear hatch when I give the signal, and cook anything that looks weird."

Lando nodded as his father spoke. "That's a roger. I'm coming out."

Zack left the control room, and Lando turned his full attention to the sensors. IR showed a rather sizable blotch off to the right, just the right shape and size for a truck, and some smaller blobs that corresponded to people. Two of them to be exact.

The smuggler relaxed a little. The desert was as flat as a pancake. One vehicle, two people, and nowhere to hide. Things were looking up.

He kept a close watch on the sensors as Zack stepped out of lock, moved towards the ghostly blobs, and stopped. He had something in his hand. A suitcase of some sort.

"I'll be damned… Dox Morlan… so the rumors are true."

Lando could hear the other man's reply, thanks to his father's mike.

"They certainly are," Morlan replied cheerfully, "and in a month or two you'll be able to scream it from the rooftops. In the meantime, however, I won't mention your name if you don't mention mine."

Lando heard his father laugh. "Fair enough… now, where's the money?"

"Right here." Lando saw something hazy pass between the two figures. "Why don't you count it while my friend and I move the crystals out of your hold?"

"Seems fair," Zack replied evenly.
"Queenie
… open the hold."

Lando touched a key. The cargo hatch swung open and some indicator lights came on. Zack had addressed himself to the ship by prior agreement. The less Morlan knew about his opposition, the better.

Lando activated one of the hold's vid cameras. He saw that four trunk-sized cases had been secured to the deck. Two men appeared and headed straight for them.

One was short, stocky, and heavily armed. His head jerked this way and that like a bird on the watch for predators. He bent over a trunk, released a catch, and lifted the lid. Morlan? No, too twitchy.

The other man was taller, darkly good-looking, and visibly cheerful. He waved towards the monitor as if aware that Lando was watching, and undisturbed by it. Yes, this was Morlan. Lando was sure of it.

The smuggler felt a chill run down his spine as the men closed the trunk and moved it towards the hatch. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Maybe Morlan did have plans to take his ill-gotten gains and flee for parts unknown, but why so casual about his identity? What if Zack were caught, or sold video of Morlan to the news nets, or a hundred other possibilities? No, it didn't add up. Morlan was too smart to make himself vulnerable.

Lando turned his full attention to the scanners. Normal, normal, normal. Everything looked so Sol damned normal. But it couldn't be. There had to be something unusual, something to give him a hint, something to tip Morlan's hand.

But try as he might, Lando found nothing at all. How about the truck? Was it loaded with mercs? Or concealing a missile launcher? Lando had just started to consider those possibilities when the transaction came to an end. The smuggler glanced at the security camera and found the hold was empty. He saw three blobs clustered around the back end of the truck.

"Well," Morlan said easily. "How's the count?"

"Five million," Zack Lando replied. "Right on the nose."

Morlan laughed. "That's good, because it's my money and I plan to spend every credit of it."

Everything happened at once. Zack Lando grabbed the case full of money and started to run. A third man popped up out of a hole in the sand and fired a shoulder-launched missile. It sailed into
Queenie's
cargo bay and blew up. An entire chorus of buzzers and Klaxons went off. Lights flashed red.

Lando gritted his teeth and concentrated on the heads-up display. He swiveled crosshairs to the left, heard a beep, and squeezed the trigger. Blue light passed through the short man and melted the sand beyond.

Lando looked at the IR screen. A blob was nearing the ship.

It fell as a line of white hit it from behind. The entire ship shook as something exploded.

Lando yelled for his father to get up, and swept the sand with blue fire. Morlan saw the beam coming and ran. It hit his feet first and ate him from below.

The man with the launcher fired again. He couldn't miss. This missile punched its way through a soft inner bulkhead and destroyed the drive room. A series of small explosions rocked the ship from side to side.

A prerecorded voice flooded the control room. It said, "Abandon ship, abandon ship, abandon ship," over and over again. The voice belonged to Lando's mother and he started to cry.

The man with the launcher stood straight up. The launcher felt warm against his cheek. Something winked blue. He ceased to exist.

Lando flipped a cover up, hit the button it had concealed, and heard the thump of a small explosion. He reached down to the left of his seat, found the handle, and gave it a twist. The emergency escape hatch fell open exactly the way it was supposed to.

The smuggler released his harness, stood up, and stepped through. It was a twelve-foot drop to the sand below. He got to his feet and started to run. He was a hundred and fifty feet away when
Queenie
blew up. The force of the blast knocked him off his feet.

He lay there for what seemed like hours but was a matter of only seconds. There was sand in his mouth and it stuck to his face where the tears had been. He spit it out and got to feet.

Dad… he had to find Dad… see if he was alive. He stumbled back towards the still-burning wreckage, finding Morlan's body first, and then his father's.

Zack was facedown near a pile of burning debris, a hole through his back, the case full of money only inches from his fingertips.

Lando kicked it out from under the wreckage and saw that it was charred. Another kick opened the lid. The five mil was a smoking mess.

The smuggler laughed, tried to stop, and found that he couldn't. Not until the laughter had turned to tears, and run their course.

Time passed and he staggered to his feet. By some miracle the truck stood untouched. There was a shovel clipped to its side. Lando took it and dug a grave for his father right next to the corpse of his beloved ship. The sand slid over and around his father as if welcoming him home.