Star Road (6 page)

Jordan could operate all the gun remotes from the cockpit, even the big main.

But if anything happened, she knew Jordan would go back there, strap into the narrow seat at the rear, to be a hands-on gunner, and operate it from there.

She knew that, having seen it happen.

Jordan wanted to hold those controls in his hands and swing around in the seat, tracking whatever he targeted.

And whatever he targeted almost always got hit. Annie couldn’t remember any misses when they were on the same flight, but she figured there had to have been one or two.

Not that Jordan would ever admit it.

She asked him once, after she saw him blast some Runners who thought they could get the jump on her small SRV.

“You do that... go back there ... because it’s more fun, right?”

Jordan—being Jordan—didn’t smile.

“It has a better feel. More accurate.”

He’s a dinosaur,
Annie thought.
Something out of freaking medieval times. Cowboy movies.

Jordan had been born too late.

Or maybe, considering things, at just the right time.

It almost always got interesting on the Road.

“As long as you’re heading back there, mind checking the freight? Looked like the loaders secured everything pretty well, especially after the near-miss with McGowan’s suit. But still—wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“Got it.”

Jordan slid out of his seat and took the gangway down to the passenger area.

~ * ~

Ruth Corso looked around for a place to sit.

She wanted quiet.

Time to think. To meditate about this journey, about what it might mean, why it was so important to her that she left her family without saying good-bye.

The SRV only held eight passengers—four sets of single seats on either side. She counted—what? Only four passengers so far.

Good.

There were bigger SRVs, but they, too, had to keep the passenger areas small. Moving freight for the colonies, supplying them ... that was the important thing. Passengers were an afterthought. Speed and mass being relative, the smaller the vehicle, the faster it would travel on the Road. And even at the impossible distances at equally impossible speeds, time was still paramount.

But the cabin on this vehicle felt smaller than she’d imagined. Cramped.

A stairwell in the front led up to the cockpit. The hatch was closed and, no doubt, locked from the inside. Lavatory on the left, in the back.

She wondered about the pilot. She looked awfully young.

After another look around, Ruth decided on the seat farthest back, on the left. The one across from that one was still empty.

She hoped it stayed that way.

Better to gather my thoughts.

Just then, the cockpit door opened, and a man came down the short stairway, hurrying.

When he looked up, Ruth caught her breath.

No!

Not him! Not Jordan!

What are the odds?

Then he stopped, looked right at her.

She opened her mouth. But then caught herself.

Of course he wouldn’t speak to her.

But he looked straight at her, as if sighting her down the barrel of a gun.

Then he hurried to the rear of the SRV.

As he passed, Ruth somehow found the courage to reach out and touch him on the right arm.

“Does it matter where I sit?”

Jordan stopped. Licked his lips, his eyes skittering from side to side.

“Not to me.”

He looked at her a moment longer.

Ruth smiled. He had a patch with an image of the SRV on it.

Copilot now?
she thought.

He shook his head. “Let me guess,” Jordan said. “You’re going to Omega Nine?”

Is it that obvious?
Ruth wondered.
So clear that I’m a Seeker?

And:
He doesn’t like it.

“That’s my plan. I know there’s—”

“Nothing but trouble. Lots of crazy, desperate people there.” Jordan’s voice stung like a whip.

Instant anger rose up inside Ruth. There was so much she—and he— could have said ...
should
have said.

But not anymore.

Then she reminded herself...
Anger isn’t the way. It never is.

“Yes. Other Seekers have gone there. A place where—”

Jordan turned away. She thought maybe he’d noticed that other passengers were listening to their conversation.

He mustered a tight smile.

“Farthest point so far. Until we go, as they say, farther.”

“You’ve been there?”

There was a note of awe in her voice. She realized she asked the question as if he had been to Mecca, a holy place—and if so, how could he not want to know everything about this Star Road, about the Builders? There were so many questions that needed answers—

“Yeah, I’ve been there. Nice pile of rocks. A few communities of your people waiting for—for what? Enlightenment?” His thin smile faded. “Get ready to be disappointed. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Jordan kept moving, slipping past the other passengers who were standing in the narrow aisle.

His words didn’t bother Ruth.

There would always be doubters.

She repeated one of her favorite Seeker mantras:
Doubt feeds on fear, and fear feeds on ignorance.

Ruth closed her eyes ... and waited for the trip to begin.

~ * ~

The lowest screen at the base of the SRV’s control panel switched from the Mobius Station logo to Humphries’s smiling face.

“SRV-66—ready to begin pre-Road checkout.”

She smiled. “All set here.”

Humphries looked to the side of his screen as if trying to see if someone was sitting to Annie’s right.

“Where’s your gunner?”

“Checking the main and the freight area. We had an issue with loading.”

“We know. McGowan already filed a liability-for-damages report. Sorry about that... and the little incident before boarding.”

“Little incident?”

The words echoed ironically for Annie.

“A lot of people could have been hurt... if it hadn’t been for Jordan.”

“Yeah. But all’s well, right? We’re showing green lights across the board for your portal exit.”

He’s avoiding the situation.

“You know as well as I do that things can change quickly. No Runner activity reported thus far, and no areas showing any anomalies.”

Another euphemism.
“Anomalies.”

Anything that happened on the Road that they couldn’t explain was an “anomaly.”

Anomalies could kill you out here.

“Good,” Annie said, focusing on her job.

“Let’s run through your board check.”

“Let’s.”

And Mobius Control Center began checking every switch, button, screen, readout, and HUD remotely while Humphries confirmed that each responded properly.

A tedious process.

But,
Annie thought,
keeping your ass safe is worth a tedious process.

~ * ~

Jordan pulled at the metal clamps and tension bars holding the pallets of freight to be dropped along the way to Omega Nine.

Near the back, large metal bands wrapped tightly around the large metal sarcophagus that held McGowan’s mining suit.

Everything as locked down as it could be.

He turned and bent down to enter the low passageway that led to the main gun turret.

The turret itself was small. Not unlike the old gun turrets mounted on B17s two centuries earlier.

The addition of a gunner’s chair here, though, seemed almost like an afterthought.

If the gun could be operated remotely, with the 360-degree space easily seen from the cockpit, why the chair?

Somebody had the imagination to realize there would be gunners... like me,
Jordan thought.

Where no screen—no matter how damned crystal clear the 3-D was— could replace sitting back here, swiveling, turning, circling, as a human, hands on the controls, aimed and fired the gun.

And though this SRV was perhaps the smallest vehicle that worked the Road, her main gun was ... something else.

Lots of power, fast response, and with amazing accuracy.

Capable of pin-point blasts as well as wide-angle scattershots that could take out a half-dozen attackers at once.

He had to admit...

I hope something happens this trip.

Be a shame to let all that firepower go to waste.

He sat down on the seat, and for a few minutes practiced targeting as the seat pivoted and swerved. He smiled, knowing Mobius Control Center was wondering what the hell he was doing.

~ * ~

“All right, SRV-66, all systems check out. Got you synced to the Mobius Cloud ... Oh. Thought you’d want to know. Your gunner is still in the back. Practicing, it looks like.”

Annie was about to tell them Jordan didn’t need any “practicing.”

But they probably knew that. That’s why they put him on this flight.

“I’ll get him back up here.”

“And you’re cleared to give your passengers their final instructions ... and then we’re good to go.”

“Roger that.”

The man on the screen turned away, looking at his own bank of monitors.

Annie hit a button below a screen showing the main gun pod.

“Jordan. Showtime. Starting final prep.”

“Gotcha.”

Normally, an SRV pilot would deliver the instructions over the intercom.

As if this was a commuter run from Sydney to L.A. Though there weren’t many “airplane” flights these days, and certainly not too many passengers using that outmoded flight system.

But Annie liked doing it more personally.

After all,
it’s just us,
she thought.
A handful of people, crossing a fair swatch of the galaxy.

Might as well put a human face on things.

She got up and turned to the stairway leading down to the passengers’ cabin.

She also thought there was another reason to do this.

Get a good look at these people who’ll be sharing this trip.

Who they are ... what they’re doing here.

And ... always ... any concerns. They’d already been screened for their potential to get roadsick—but that screening was far from 100 percent accurate. You never knew. Someone could ride the Road a couple of dozen times and be fine.

And then: Nausea and vomiting were the typical effects of roadsickness. But sometimes brain aneurisms. Occasionally, a passenger could have startling psychological reactions. Get violent, need to be restrained.

Which is why every Road vehicle stocked emergency kits with neoprene collars.

And then there were the few times a passenger had to be “neutralized.” That was another euphemism ... for what had to be done to get them to stop.

Which, depending on the circumstances, could be anything. One rule of the Road was that was
always
the captain’s call.

Telling herself this would probably be another smooth and easy trip— routine—Annie headed down to the passengers’ area.

~ * ~

Annie stopped at the front and looked at the passengers settling into their seats.

She knew their names from the manifest, which confirmed that they’d been checked out by Mobius Security.

And rechecked.

Then checked again.

Nothing to worry about here,
she thought.

Unless, of course, Mobius Central screwed up.

Just like the Road itself... the unpredictable could always happen.

In those seconds, she took in the group before they noticed her standing there, watching.

Sinjira Renku. Beautiful, exotic, legs curled up under her, ready to watch a holovid.

A Chippie, with the nub of hardware extending from her skull just below her cerebellum on the left side of her head.

But more than just a Chippie. She was a Creator. Such a lofty, pretentious name. Living and recording experiences for the masses who preferred their thrills to be vicarious.

Though experiencing a chip was so real it felt like anything
but
vicarious.

Still, Sinjira had to go places and do things to record. And she looked like the adventurous kind. Which explained why she was here, to capture this Road trip for all those who would never have the money or get past their fears to leave their safe home, much alone travel halfway across the galaxy.

Now the Chippie was talking to a man sitting across the aisle from her.