Prison Planet (THE RIM CONFEDERACY Book 3) (8 page)

“What needs to be done can only be done by you, dear,” the Baroness said and then followed that with a furtive look around her as if to say what came next was more than private.

Leaning forward, Helena heard her stepmother outline her plan to make a real change in the Barony future and at the same time cause major disruption to the RIM Navy too ... and for the first time in years, she was alarmed at what she heard.

She listened. She asked questions. She thought and then asked more questions and received more answers. And when she had no more queries, the Baroness looked at her directly.

“Doing what has never been done before is sometimes daunting—but trust me, stepdaughter, it can be done. You need to use all of your wiles to get this done. I don’t care and neither should you what this costs as long as it gets done. You will succeed is the only outcome. Look at me, the Baroness of Neres, and one day if you want to be able to say that, you will do this successfully,” she said almost to flaunt her position, but as Helena knew, she made sense of this plan, as the screen EYES ONLY went back to black.

Later in the transport bus back to the
Sterling
, Helena realized there were no more questions. Just a well-thought-out set of steps to follow like those old dominoes that must fall one into the other then the next and the next. Each one was dependent upon the one in front of it to make the whole thing work.

My job, she thought, as she rode the escalator up into the
Sterling
, is just to get those items all in a row ... and to be able to sway the Captain ...

#

The
Marwick
shuttle was at what some might call low-level altitude but others might call dangerous. Above the waves, yes, but not by more than fifty feet, and Lieutenant Hendricks, the pilot, was focused on nothing but the sea ahead of him. The rest of the away team watched in silence as the shuttle cruised at more than a mile per second, leaving a furrow behind them as a wake never seen before. With a blue sky, the deep ocean blue and the white wake furrow behind them, it was a trip in duo-tones for sure, Tanner thought. He’d requested this low-level flight as it was something no one as far as he knew had ever done. Even the three Provost Guards who accompanied the away team to look after the convict were staring out the large shuttle view-ports at nothing but ocean, whitecaps and all.

“On my home world, Captain” Lieutenant Rizzo said, “we have a sport called boarding, where you ride a wave coming into shore or behind a boat, and it’s tons of fun. Well, ‘til you remember that if you’re dumped off the wave near shore, that they make sandpaper outta sand, Sir,” he said and unconsciously rubbed his left thigh and hip.

“Something I’m sure you did over and over, right, Rizzo,” Lieutenant Elliot chuckled and rose from his seat pretending to balance on just such a board, which got a few cheers from the rest of the team, and even Radisson, the new ensign, was up on top of his seat boarding the shuttle herself.

“Settle down,” the XO said and that got the group back into their seats, and he eyed Radisson a bit to let him know that kind of shenanigans was frowned upon. Least it should be ...

As they cruised across the ocean, it became apparent even at this speed that the number of islands was very low on this heading. They never had to avert their course to go around any, and they only saw a line of islands in the distance to port once. At more than 3,600 miles per hour, they were moving quite quickly, and in a little less than two hours, a line of islands appeared ahead.

“Slow, Lieutenant Hendricks, we don’t wanna cause any issues on arrival,” the XO noted and Tanner nodded in agreement.

“Aye, XO, Wilco,” Hendricks said, and they slowed noticeably as the line of low-lying islands came more into view. Once volcanoes had risen here from the ocean floor to breach the waters and slowly build landmass, and Tanner could see evidence of that easily. But it had been a long time ago, as the volcanic cones were now all worn down with green vegetation that went right to the summits. One of the islands though still had a taller mountainous peak, and as it came more into view, one could see the power grids coming up and out of the crater that marked the volcano.

“Power generation is volcanic, XO?” Tanner queried and sipped again at his plas-cup of coffee, sweetened with the one thing he liked more than everything else.

“Affirmative, Sir, small the AI says, but still enough to power the local residents, uh, 9,000 souls. Plus they have a full fishing fleet, a fish factory cargo ship, and yes, the local jail. ETA in less than twenty minutes, Sir.”

As the shuttle climbed and slowed at the same time, they could see the lush scenery that lay on the shores below—first the blue of the ocean lightened to azure, then teal, and almost turquoise as the sand and volcanic rock climbed up out of the ocean depths. Beaches that stretched for miles went by as the shuttle climbed up and up and then crested the low-lying hills on the island of Gravity. They flew for a mile or two only at that height until they began to drop away down to the other side of the island.

Ahead, tucked in a large natural harbor, lay many boats: boats at anchor, boats moving under power, and more boats tendering their catch to the fish factory ship that lay against the big moorings at the edge of the water. Tanner wondered what they had caught today but then figured with the ocean all around them, it mattered not a whit. The town crept up the slope of the island away from the harbor and was laid out in a semi-circular style, with a large central park area about halfway up the slope. From where the shuttle came over the edge of the town, Tanner could see the houses and neighborhoods up top were larger and more posh than the lower town center areas. And from here, he could also not discern what might be called a jail at all. Catching the helmsman’s eye, he pointed to the park as if to say it looked like the spot to try to land.

“Aye, Captain,” Lieutenant Hendricks said, and the shuttle yawed and swooped down to be near the center of the park and landed slowly, pointed toward the harbor. The Provost Guards stood instantly and moved to the airlock to be the first ones out the opening door. Moments later, the away team had joined them, and they stood in the shadow of the shuttle alone in the park.

“Um, XO, you did get confirmation about our arrival, yes?” Tanner said as he too looked around and saw not a soul. Park, empty, he thought, and looked down at the harbor and around the few town streets that they could see. No one.

The away team looked at each other, then looked around again, and then looked back at the captain, who shrugged at them and held up his hands open to the sky.

“I’ve no idea,” Tanner said, “as to what to do now—“

Sirens sounded from speakers they could not see, but the volume was so loud they almost all jumped at the sudden shocking sound.

“What in hell,” the XO said, and they all turned to look around to see if anything was different, and it took a moment to notice.

“Sir,” one of the Provost Guards said, “it appears that the power has just been turned back on ... as it was off when we landed, Sir.”

“And you’d know that how?” the XO said dryly.

“Because we are on the Newton Security channel, Sir. We have to be as a part of the network, and we received word in our earpieces back about the time that the lieutenant was boarding his shuttle seat, Sir. Power went out all over Gravity as the Power Plant was having some issues, but that’s not all, Sir. Our convict was the one they had to ‘borrow’ out of the local jail and march up to the Plant on that peak behind us. It was she that got the turbines out of their fubar deal, Sir,” the Provost said.

Tanner tried to comprehend what he’d just heard. The part that really stuck out was the convict pick up was a woman—one who could handle a volcano power plant issue. He shook his head.

“XO, let’s find out what the—wait, Provost Sergeant, can you ask for someone to bring us that convict here—here in the park, I mean?” he said.

The Provost Guard gave a quick “wilco” and then used his throat mic to speak to someone at whatever Newton Security command might be.

“Sir, their ETA is nine minutes ... a heli-hover in directly from the Power Plant,” he said as he pointed up and behind them.

While the away team stood around and waited, Tanner had turned to watch that peak above them, especially at the cut in the volcanic cone where the power line towers marched down the slope toward Newton. A minute or two later from that cut in the cone, a roundish looking heli-hover craft rose above the cone and moved swiftly down toward them in the park. It was only a few miles, and the craft moved down and down, and then it was in front of the away team, landing fify feet away.

As the door popped open on the passenger entry side, only two people got out, both clothed alike in orange jumpsuits with air tanks on their backs and tool belts asunder with tools of all kinds.

One of the Provost Guards must have barked some kind of a command to his team via their voice mics, and they all formed a wide formation, their sidearms in their hands. Not another person moved on the away team as the orange-clad passengers walked up at leisure and stopped facing the away team. One motioned to the other who pulled off their mask and helmet and then shook out what was matted long red hair.

“Sorry there, Captain, but had a job to do. Didn’t mean to put you behind, timeline-wise ... but my real allegiance is not to the Confederacy, but to Newton,” she said as she continued to run her fingers through her hair that glistened with sweat.

Oddly, Tanner thought, it made it shine as brightly as a fire-plug.

“Provost Sergeant, at ease,” the XO said, and the guards holstered their weapons but moved to stand between the away team and the passengers.

It was then they noticed the other passenger had also doffed his helmet and mask and had the same reddish shade of what little hair he still had, also glinting with sweat.

“Captain—my apologies. This is Muri Ankara, your, well, I suppose she’s your convict soon as I turn her over to you—but know, Sir, that she is also my daughter—and I would imagine that you’d like an explanation, Sir?” he said quietly.

Tanner nodded and stared at the beautiful redheaded woman and her father in front of him.

“Power Plant is just about my daughter’s life’s work—she fought to get us the funding to build this micro-plant. She went to school over on Juno and then Carnarvon for the education to manage same. And she installed every single nut and bolt to get us the power from the volcano you see behind you, Sir,” he said with pride in his voice.

“Dad ... enough. I’m sure the captain just wants to put me in shackles and get me over to Halberd. He’s not interested in anything here on Hope and even less for us Newton folks,” she said and slowly removed the backpack air tanks and the tool belt. She shucked herself out of the orange jumpsuit and was left standing in front of the away team in simple shorts and a T-shirt soaked with perspiration. Trying to dry herself off with the shaking of the shirt, she paid little attention to the Provost Guards who now moved up to surround her and took charge by just standing there as she shook with exhaustion.

She nodded and looked at Tanner, who was still staring back at her, not believing that anyone like her could actually be convicted of anything.

“Captain, permission to kiss my dad goodbye, Sir?” she said softly.

And before he could even answer, she leaned over and gave her father a big hug and kiss.

“Home in less than five, Dad,” she said, and undoing herself from him, she held out her hands to the provost aergeant who was closest to her.

“Cuffs, Sergeant?” she said sweetly and lifted an eyebrow to him as if to say she was ready to go.

“Un-necessary, Provost Sergeant, stand down,” Tanner immediately said.

“Sorry, Captain,” the guard said, “not up to you. SOP requires it, so, yes, cuffs indeed,” he said as he slapped them on the small but strong-looking shivering forearms of the woman in front of him.

Tanner took a step forward but was interrupted by Lieutenant Radisson who made the quick jump ahead of him.

“Provost Sergeant, as you are well aware, one of the few reasons why a convict coming into your charge would not be cuffed would be in the case of a convict who is in a state of medical emergency—which this woman obviously is. I see a person who is so hugely bathed in sweat after being in a volcano that she is most likely dehydrated due to the lack of fluids. And while I’m not a doctor, what I do know is that now that you’ve been informed by a superior officer of that issue, should you choose to ignore it, this all comes down to you, Provost Sergeant—and your career,” he added and then stepped back.

The away team was frozen as they all looked at the sergeant, and Tanner thought he might have seen them conversing using their throat mics and earpieces. Must have come to a decision, he thought a few seconds later as the sergeant hit a button on his wrist PDA and the cuffs fell into his outstretched hand.

“We will still be watching you,” he said to Muri as he stepped back and tucked those cuffs back into his Sam Browne belt.

Tanner smiled at her and then offered to let her mount the boarding ramp up and into the shuttle first. He and the rest of the away team and Provost Guards went up into the shuttle too.

As they buckled up for takeoff, he caught the XO’s eye, nodded at Lieutenant Radisson, and smiled. Great addition to the team, he thought and then made a note to look over the convict files to see if he could find this one to look over. Not too often that a Power Plant professional went to jail ... five years too, he remembered and wondered what had happened and decided to look that up soonest.

As the helmsman took her up, he noted that the convict did not look behind her at Newton as it first fell away a as the shuttle yawed to the north to make its return trip to Trannis and the
Marwick
.

CHAPTER THREE

In the warden’s office at the Max Island prison facility, five convicts sat, chained together like the criminals that they were, their legs cramping as the hobbles were tight on each ankle and knee joint. One of them tried to scratch his left forearm but couldn’t as the handcuffs were so tight there was no way to allow his reach to move far enough to scratch that itch, and he sighed loudly. Beside him, his ex-cleaning team leader snorted and shook his head, as even this little courtesy could not be allowed.