Living in Freefall (Living on the Run Book 1) (10 page)

The next morning Ericca and Archer awoke to a vast,
star-filled sky. Even without the visors, the ship’s deck seemed well lit just
by the light of the Milky Way.

It was very early, but in spite of the hour Ericca decided
it was time to contact
Freefall
and report in. She turned to their most
secure channel and hailed
Freefall
. She hailed twice more before Captain
Kori responded in a rather sleepy voice.

Jordon tried hard to rub the sleep from his eyes, but
hammering out a few more details with Buck had run late into the night, later
than he would have liked. He tried desperately to wake himself and clear his
mind, but lack of sleep’s grip was stubborn. At this early hour, he sounded
more like Elmer Fudd than himself.

“Hewwo?” he said.

Ericca’s voice, on the other end, was faint. “Captain Kori?”

“Yes, honey, it’s Captain Kori. Talk to me.”

“
Honey
, sir?” That was the first time he’d called her
that
.

Jordon shook himself. “What? Ericca? Oh, sorry. I dozed off
for a second there. Thought for a moment I was talking to . . . Umm,
where are you?”

“We’re okay. We’re piggybacking on the
Prince Rutherford
.
It seemed at first to be a Tech-vessel at the rear of a forty-two-ship flotilla
heading your way. Sir, the Rutherford is a weapon.”

“The ship is a weapon,” he said blandly. “Aren’t they all?”

“Sir, wake up and pay attention. Rutherford is a big weapon;
a big, scary, chew-up several ships with one bite,
weapon
. The whole
ship is one big gun with a maw on it the size of Colorado.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, sir. You may want to reconsider. Their course is
straight and true, so I’m sure they’re tracking you.”

“No, wait. The ship itself is a gun.”

“An energy cannon, more like. If it turns toward a group of
ships, it’ll rip through them like . . . like, like they’re nothing.”

“Damn! They did it.”

“Did what, sir?”

There was a long moment of dead air. Jordon knew what they
had made and knew where they got the technology.

“Sir,” Errica said accusatorily, “this is your tech, isn’t
it? This is the stuff taken from your ship, right?”

The silence remained as Jordon pondered a proper response.
“Sir, your tech fell into the wrong hands. Now what are you going to do?”

“So, we’ll stay to her backside.”

“Not funny, sir.”

“Take it easy, Errica. We’ll discredit this ship; make the Confeds
believe it’s a failed tech not worth pursuing.”

“If it was just that simple, sir. This ship,
as big as it
is
, was built to pivot on a dime. She has well-placed maneuvering engines
designed to whip this thing around faster than you can fly. Sir, seriously, you
may just want to make a run for it. Get to Providence, and let
them
deal
with this beast. I think even they would be hard pressed to beat this thing.”

“It’s that bad, huh?”

“It is. It’s
your
technology after all.”

“Understood, Ericca. Are you able to send us the specs on
that ship?”

“We’ve scanned it. Archer has converted that to a 3-D holo.
I’ll shoot that to you.”

“Good, good. Will you be ready to come home after that?”

“Negative. We’ll stay with the fleet and track their
movements. I’ll report in if things change.”

“How’re you holding up?”

“Archer and I are . . .”

For a moment Jordon thought the line had gone dead.

“He’s fine . . . I’m pissed.”

“Sorry? Come again.”

“Sir, we found both Talon pilots.” There was a long pause.
“They’re dead. We’re certain they were murdered by their own people.”

There was no accusation in her tone but the impact of her
words knocked him off his feet. He slumped into a chair. Like an old rubber
balloon after a forgotten party, he suddenly felt deflated. Despite that, his
chest was now tight and heavy; his breathing became difficult.

“Ericca, I . . .” Jordon took a labored breath.
“My Talon swap idea, huh? To be honest, Ericca, since our little talk I haven’t
been able to sleep much.”

Again there was a protracted stillness. Ericca was upset. Jordon
could hear it in her voice when she spoke, and even more so when she didn’t.

“Ericca, I . . .” He took another deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Any other time those two little words would have meant
something, but now they were just weak and small and frail. There really was
little he could say to justify what had happened, what
he
had caused.
And there was no defense that could rise to the level needed. Two men had died,
and that wasn’t nothing.

“Sir, I . . .” There was another moment of dead
air. “You’ll excuse me.”

He swallowed back his feelings of guilt. “Their deaths are
on my head, Ericca. Can you forgive me?”

Another protracted silence was broken by her brother’s
voice.

“Sir, this is Riley. I think it’s best if I take over this
conversation. Ericca, well . . .”

For a long moment, Jordon couldn’t form the words. Ericca
was right. She was right aboard
Freefall
, and she was right in being
angry now. Jordon didn’t want the men to die. That certainly wasn’t his desire.
Nor did he want to enslave them. But he had ignored Ericca when he shouldn’t
have and didn’t hear her when he should have. She had every right to be, well,
pissed
off
, and
at
him.

It seemed like his every decision over the course of this
entire last year had been wrong. He had made one mistake after another, and now
two more men were dead. Ericca had called those men arrogant cocks. They were.
There was no denying. But he was every bit an arrogant cock himself. He should
have consulted with and listened to Ericca and Riley. He twisted his hands in
the time-honored fashion of people in pain. Then he caught himself, and splayed
his fingers before making fists. He flexed his hands, gathered his thoughts, swallowed
his fears, and straightened.

“Put her back on, Riley.”

“I can’t do that, sir. She’s stepped away from the ship. I
can tell at a glance she’s angry though.”

A knot formed in the pit of Jordon’s stomach. His shoulders
slumped and he caught a glimpse of his own reflection in the plexi-clear bridge
window. The man looking back at him wasn’t stately, or confident, or brave. The
man in the glass was simply a geek who wanted to be what he wasn’t. “I get that
she’s angry, Riley. But I need to talk to her.”

“Should I tell her you’re giving her a direct order, sir?”

Some things done could never be undone. Jordon felt that he
had already crossed a line that could never be stepped back over. Ordering her
to talk to him would only exacerbate the situation. Provoked, Ericca might
never return to his ship, to her home, to . . . him.

“I should have known, Riley. I should have at least guessed
this could’ve happened. Ericca was right. I’m a gadget guy. What in furnace
flames was I thinking?”

“Sir?”

“I should’ve stuck to what I know best. And I should have
consulted with you two before doing such a stupid thing.”

“You didn’t pull the trigger, sir.”

Jordon sighed. “I kill people, Riley. I may not be the one
pulling the trigger, but I get people killed all the same. All around me people
die.”

“You got to stop that, sir. Thinking like that will do you
no good. Too many people rely on you, so stop it!”

He took and released a heavy breath. The line stayed silent
for the longest time.

“Sir?”

“Yeah, Riley?”

“Sir, Ericca’s anger isn’t your doing. I can’t remember
seeing her this upset, but it isn’t you, not really. She hates Confederates as
much as anyone. I thought she’d like seeing those men dead, but . . .”

“Leave her be, Riley. Just leave her be.”

“Maybe Mrs. Mara should be our contact from now on. I don’t
know.”

Jordon rubbed his temples with both hands. “Not a good idea.
Mom and Ericca . . . Setting aside all that, Riley, what’s your
situation?”

“For the most part, sir, we’re bored out of our sculls. Other
than that, we’re okay. We’ve tried to figure out how they’ve tracked you, but
neither of us has had much success. Tell Rachel it would be a lot easier if she
we’re here to brainstorm with.”

“Roger that. I’m sure once she wakes she’ll work on the same
issue from this end.”

“Okay Captain . . . Oh, I can tell you that at
this distance and speed, we’ll arrive at your destination in about two days.
We’ll send a list of these ships and their technical data
to
Freefall
.
Better that you know what you’re up against when they arrive. Hope it helps.
Well, that’s all for now. We’ll sign off and report— No! Wait! One more thing.
We managed to sabotage this particular ship . . . somewhat. When the
time comes code 18122514 into your nav-com array and beam it straight at
Prince
Rutherford
. Doing so will fry their controls,
we hope
. That’ll
trigger well-placed keton grenades. Barring that, stay the hell away from the
Prince’s
bow. Got all that?”

“Got it.”

“Should things change, Captain, we’ll hail you. Riley out.”

“Thanks, Riley. Captain Kori out.”

Jordon rubbed the morning stiffness from his neck and went
to the kitchen to fix a pot of coffee. Then it struck him.
Did Riley say,
‘
well-placed
keton grenades?
’ He wandered for a moment where they could have placed
grenades
above deck
that would make a difference. Ah, if he could
remember to do so, he’d just have to ask them later.

They’re brave kids
, he thought.

But exactly how brave, he would probably never guess. There
was no tipoff in Ericca or Riley’s voices that said they had actually snuck
aboard, and deep into, the
Prince Rutherford
. No hint in Riley’s tone
that at one point, for an hour, they had to hunker down in a crate while
solders practiced drill after drill around them.

Nor did he know that as they climbed from the box, Riley’s
loose hood had snagged, jostling the crate enough to give them away. If he’d
had it on as Ericca had asked, that would never have happened. It was close.
They had managed to duck behind a blind of conduits in time to escape the guards
who had hurried around the corner.

“Too close for comfort,” Riley whispered. Quickly raising
his hood, he synched the purse string.

The guards searched the crates for stowaways until Riley
spotted a rat behind some large metal tubes. He grinned. He’d finally get to
shoot something. He dialed down his zipgun to its lowest setting, took careful
aim, and popped the rat in the tail.

It squealed with a jump and bolted from behind the tubes at
a full run. The guards did their best to stomp on it as it scurried across the
floor. But the rat was quick. When the men finally left the room, Riley and Ericca
both let out a sigh of relief.

Ericca glanced his way, then started to chuckle.

“Found that funny, did you?”

It seemed as if it was all Ericca could do to keep from
laughing outright. Then, his own reflection in a polished wall plate told him
what had tickled her so. He had synched the hood so quick and tight that the
only thing that could be seen of his face were his eyes and nose. The hood’s
purse string was tied in a cute little bow just under his beak.

Embarrassed, Riley loosened the knot and shrugged. “Not one
word, sis. Not one itty-bitty word!”

They climbed from behind the conduits and continued on their
way deeper into the ship.

There was no clue given in Riley’s tone to Captain Kori that
they had nearly been discovered a second time when Riley made use of the ship’s
head.

To go through difficulties like these only served to build
strong bonds between Ericca and Riley. They grew to trust each other and rely
on each other’s strengths, as well as recognize their own shortcomings. But the
stories of these days would only be told when both were well into adulthood. No
need to worry the Koris, nor encourage recklessness among their younger crew
members. Riley knew being reckless was strictly his and her job.

With all the skulking about now well behind them, he and his
sister settled down for a long bout of boredom in
Viper’s
cramped
cockpit. No more strolls along the starlit deck of the
Prince Rutherford
.
No more dangerous journeys into its inner sanctum. Just one long stretch of
time; filled with moment upon moment of nothing to do—
that is
nothing to
do
for him
. Ericca had the foresight to bring star-charts to study.

Look, this was supposed to have been a short, quick run. How
was he to know that they would spend a lot of time visiting a
Prince
?
What kind of a name was
Rutherford
anyway? Sounded snooty enough to
glaze over the eyes of any school kid. Was that the plan in naming this ship?
To bore the living daylights out of children who would otherwise occupy
themselves with pranks and practical jokes of every sort? He could just picture
a Confederate public school classroom—haggard, old matronly teacher and all.
The image that popped into his head was of some shriveled up old prune trying
to hold the attention of nine-year-olds. ‘This, children, is the
Prince
Rutherford
’ . . . snore.
Oh, yeah, that would work
.

What a snooze this trip turned out to be. Sheesh. A
practical joke, a prank, something—
anything
—to break the monotony.

Riley stared at Ericca’s head and wondered what would happen
if he gave her hair a tug.

“Bored, are you?”

By her stern tone, Riley knew Ericca wasn’t asking a
question. Her focus was on her book. How did she know what he was thinking? Was
he that predictable?