Authors: Anthony Hartig
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Fiction
“Pleased to meet you Mr. Scott.” Max replied as they shook hands. “Okay, Nikki, let’s get started, shall we?” Max grinned as he looked at his pad and took a stylus from his pocket, “Name of ship?”
“Blue Zephyr.”
“Make?”
“Aerodyne 1023, Series Mx40-1A Star Chaser.”
“Propulsion?”
“Primaries are Coltrane Plutonium Turbos with aftermarket Overture-12 retro-jets. Secondary sources are Watts & Rannon Magnetic Hyper-Drive Cores.”
“Payload?”
“Thirty-five thousand pounds of cosmetics and luxury consumables.”
“Let’s go to page two,” Max said unceremoniously, “Pilot name?”
“Nikki Wells.”
“Age?”
“28.”
“License Class?”
“Class-2 Pilot.”
“Destination?”
“Cassandra City, Venus.”
“Passengers?”
“One.”
Max turned to Scott and pointed at him with his pen as he concentrated on the forms on his pad.
“Name of passenger?”
“Scott. First name, Fenmore.”
“Passenger’s age?”
“46.”
“Citizenship?”
“Earth.”
Max turned his attention back to me. “Purpose of journey?”
“Err, to visit friends.” I said sheepishly.
“Aww common, Nikki,” Max replied in an incensed tone, “‘To visit friends?’”
“Why, what’s wrong?”
“Ya gotta gimme something better than that. The report does get read, ya know.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“You could say something like ‘To visit your sick mother.’.”
“Okay then, “To visit my sick mother”.”
“But then you better have one, and she’d better be on Venus. Then ya gotta have the proper medical forms for confirmation…”
“Look, Max,” I sighed, “why are you busting my chops? Just put anything down for us that sounds good. We have to get going if we’re going to make time.”
“I don’t even want to ask the next question about having weapons on your persons...”
“Just a Cobalt-22...”
“I’m not hearing this.” Max grimaced as he rolled his eyes.
“Max we’re stalling.”
“Okay, okay, Nikki, don’t bite my head off, I’m just…” Max trailed off and looked at the floor.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nikki, don’t go.” Max said gravely as he looked me square in the eyes.
“What? You telling me we can’t go?”
“No, I’m not saying you can’t go, I’m just asking you not to.”
“Max…”
“Look, we both know what you’re doing and we both know where you’re going, I’m just asking you not to go. Don’t do it, Nikki. Walk away.”
“Max, are you going to make a case out of this?”
“Yes I am.” Max frowned. “I know how you’re going to deviate from your flightplan. I talked to Kurlie this afternoon. Don’t go Nikki.”
“I have to.”
“Well then don’t go through the Pipe.”
“I’ve got no choice, Max, you know that.”
“You know a couple of years ago I was in your shoes…”
“Can we trade sea stories later, Max? I’ve got to get a move on.”
“No! You’re gonna listen to what I have to say, Nikki,” Max snapped as he put his hand on my shoulder, “like I said, two years ago I was in your shoes. Like you I was gonna make a run. Like you I had to take the Pipe to make the time; and like you I had a bad feeling about it. I’d gone through the Pipe too many times before and I had demons nipping at my heels. I was scared. Scared of the Pipe, scared that I wouldn’t come back, and scared to face guys like Kurlie. But what was I gonna do? Being a runner was all I knew how to do.”
“So what am I supposed to do?”
“Walk away from it, Nikki. Don’t go. You can join Patrol.”
“That’s absurd.”
“No it’s not. Isn’t it better if people like us are in it? At least we understand, at least we’ve been there and can help out our own.”
“I couldn’t do that.”
“Why not? The pay is good, it’s clean…”
“Bribery? That’s clean?”
“Well may be not.” Max shrugged. “I’m only on the take as far as Departures and Flightplans are concerned, all the money in the world wouldn’t get the Zephyr off the pad if I didn’t think she was space-worthy. Don’t go, Nikki, or you won’t come back.”
“What kind of thing is that to say!”
“You heard me, you will not be coming back, Nikki. I know, you will NOT be coming back.”
“Is there a problem here, Nikki?” Scott asked grimly as he eyed Max.
“No. No problem, Scotty.”
“Then we’ve better get going.” Scott interrupted.
“Mr. Scott,” Max turned to address my passenger to try another angle, “do you have any idea what you and Nikki are about to do during your flight?”
“No sir.”
“Max, button it down.” I shot him a look hoping to shut him up.
“It’s insanity...” Max insisted as he shook his head. “The Pipe can be unstable at times. You could end up only God knows where if it doesn’t tear you guys apart.”
“Nikki, what the hell is he talking about? What is this pipe?”
“Nothing, Scotty. Nothing to worry yourself over.”
“You don’t know, do you Mr. Scott?” Max gasped as he shook his head unbelievingly with his eyes wide. “He doesn’t know, does he, Nikki? You haven’t told him. Remember what happened to Johnny?”
“That’s enough Max!” I growled through clenched teeth. “That’s enough!”
“He has the right to know!” Max blared.
“What’s he talking about Nikki?” Scotty asked with concern as he looked at the fear in Max’s eyes.
“Ignore him, Scotty, grab your things and let’s go.” I grimaced as I grabbed my gear. “See ya ‘round, Max.”
“All right,” Max wilted, “You win, Nikki. I’m on the desk tonight so I’ll do what I can to keep the hounds off your trail until you get to Ceres Vesta. If you make it through the Pipe in one piece stay on the sealed frequency until you get contacted by Kurlie’s man. He’ll give you the final coordinates to a small landing strip on the outskirts of Fluture.”
We shook hands as Scott and I stepped into the Blue Zephyr. A slight chill suspend itself in the dim cargo hold of the ship as I checked to see if Kurlie’s boys secured the payload properly while Scotty stuffed his bags in a stowage rack. One good thing about Kurlie’s goons, they knew how to pack things tight and fasten them down thoroughly. It was makeup all right. A lot of it. About thirty containers containing powders, soaps, perfume, and lipstick; padded, packed, and stacked about twenty feet high in two rows.
Kurlie even had them pack a case of hundred year old whiskey up front with a large duffle bag containing half my money along with a note:
Nikki,
No hard feelings ok cupcake? Money’s all there. Half now, and the rest when you get back home. Threw in a case of my finest booze as a bonus in case you want to whet your whistle when you get to
Nexus. Yes, I know, that’s contraband too, but I figured you wouldn’t mind this kind since it’s for your personal use. Bon voyage, baby.
-Kurlie
Chapter
3
I
handed Scotty a flight helmet and ushered him into the copilot’s seat next to mine and began the ignition sequence. I flipped a toggle switch and the radar blipped on with its soft, lime green light and the overhead console lit up with blue, red, and yellow lights as the flight systems enabled. The bridge pressurized with a small hiss and the O
2
generators began to prime the entire ship.
I set my hat on the center console as I scanned the GPS and IFA monitors and punched in my coordinates for my point of destination. I could see Max doing a final check on the pad and he waved to me as he secured the dock and closed-off launch bay access.
Five minutes later, Max sounded in on the radio “Blue Zephyr, systems check, over.”
“Roger, control, Blue Zephyr confirms preflight systems run down.” I replied as I adjusted the volume in my flight helmet.
“Heads-up display.”
“HUD enabled.”
“Avionics.”
“Avionics enabled.”
“Artificial gravity locks.”
“AGL’s check.” This exchange went on for another ten minutes as we assessed communications, navigational, and cryogenic systems. Max finally gave me the green light for ignition and I dimmed the cabin lights and did one more internal payload scan within the Zephyr.
Scotty sat back and stared through the cockpit canopy at the bright overhead lights of the hanger, he was completely oblivious to the fact that he was being scanned. A small screen on my side of the instrument panel revealed the results of the sweep: all components secured, but my passenger had a porcelain sidearm in a holster strapped to his left ankle…a 9mm parabellum automatic pistol. His weight was also peculiar, he was heavier than he looked, and it just didn’t add up.
The Zephyr’s primary engines slowly revved-up into a high pitched whine, and I checked the fuel pressure and disengaged the heat shield as I adjusted the tint of the HUD visor that connected me to the onboard flight computer. The LED status indicated the Gamma sensors began their exterior scan and I was getting readings on ambient temperature and oxygen levels.
I flipped open the armrest on my left and inserted a DAT disc into a small computer called a Black Spyder that only I knew about. This thing was no bigger than five inches square and two inches thick, but had cost me a fortune on the black market. It was integrated into my flight computer by a Federation Techno that I had to pay on the sly to make the hook-up, but it was worth the investment.
This tiny box was a jamming device for scanners, and digital and electronic counter-measure probes. It could also intercept and scramble all transmissions the Scouts and Interceptors would use to hunt me down the moment I left our solar system. Electronically, it made me invisible.
I watched the launch bay door slowly rise in front of me and expose the darkness that encompassed the tarmac. It was a clear, windy night and the stars twinkled brightly over the city. The weather forecast in Nexus on my arrival on the 24
th
showed sunny skies with a 25 knot western breeze, and I looked forward to getting there and having a couple of days to myself before coming back to Earth.
“Blue Zephyr, 2-6, departure status, over.” Max’s voice crackled over the radio mechanically.
“Blue Zephyr, Flight 2-6, destination Venus, status green for departure, over.” I replied.
“Roger, Flight 2-6. Blue Zephyr is cleared for departure on Runway-3.”