Terminus (Fringe Worlds #1) (15 page)

Chapter 18

Loyola didn’t come in until after dark that first day, and she was gone again before sunup the next morning. Maker, who arose early himself to take care of some things on their ship, couldn’t help but admire how seriously she took her duties, and everyone else seemingly did the same.

Fierce woke up with the dawn and started cataloging medical supplies, as well as making sure all of the surgical equipment worked. Adames decided he would spend the day puttering around the dropship, allegedly making sure that the vessel remained travel-ready in case they had to make a quick exit.

As for the rest of their band, the focus was on finding the Vacra. To that end, a number of drones were dispersed that first morning. Ostensibly, they were mapping devices, used to chart the surrounding region and pinpoint areas of interest for scientists to study. In actuality, they were, of course, trying to locate Maker’s quarry (or any place they might be hiding).

Maker, Snick, and Wayne spent much of the day analyzing the data relayed back by the drones. In the end, although they got a fix on the location of some of the planet’s indigenous life as well as several bands of sentient species traveling across the desert, they had no luck in locating their intended targets.

That day ended much like the previous evening, with Loyola making an appearance after sunset and being gone again by daybreak. Moreover, the actions of everyone else the following morning basically mimicked what they had done the day before: Fierce worked in the hospital tent, Adames fooled around with the ship, and the others sent out drones (albeit to survey new terrain), and scoured the images and data sent back to determine if there was anything there to help them locate their target.

As their second full day on Terminus came to a close, Maker found himself extremely frustrated. Sitting at the table under the frame tent, he groaned aloud and pushed away the computer monitor he had been staring at. Wayne, sitting across from him, looked up from his own screen in concern.

“This is hopeless,” Maker announced angrily. “As fast as those drones go, as much range as they have, there’s just too much desert. We might as well just stick a pin in a map.”

“Easy there, el-tee,” Wayne said, reaching across to protectively pull the monitor farther out of Maker’s reach. “Don’t take it out on the merchandise.”

“The lieutenant’s frustrated,” said Snick, who was sitting at the far end of the table. “He’s a man of action – like me. He feels the need to be more assertive.”

Wayne looked at Maker for confirmation, who merely said, “That’s not exactly right, although there is a little bit of truth to Snick’s statement. I just feel like we should be doing more than simply staring at screens all day.”

“Well, you could always take a hovercycle out and eyeball the place yourself,” Wayne suggested. “You won’t cover nearly as much ground or be as effective as a drone, but if it makes you feel like you’re doing something, maybe it’ll be therapeutic.”

Maker frowned. “I don’t need ther–”

Maker stopped in mid-sentence as Erlen, who had been happily taunting a small desert insect, abruptly became alert, growling menacingly. Sunlight suddenly flashed off something metallic in the corner of Maker’s eye, and his peripheral vision picked up unexpected motion. He turned his head in the direction of the movement, at the same time drawing his sidearm in one seamless motion and taking aim.

“No! Don’t!” screamed Wayne, flinging himself between the barrel of Maker’s gun and the object that just strolled (or rather, floated) into the shade of the tent.

It was about a foot tall and made completely of shiny, gray metal. It had what appeared to be a cylindrical body, connected by a multitude of wires to a head that looked a lot like a soup can. It floated about a foot off the ground.

“Don’t shoot!” Wayne continued. “It’s just Jerry.”

“Jerry?” Maker repeated quizzically. “Who – and
what
– the hell is Jerry, and why is he crashing what should be a private party?”

Wayne, still seemingly nervous although Maker finally put his gun away, said, “I really haven’t been able to sleep since we got here. Too pumped up or something, I guess.”

Maker nodded slightly in understanding. This was probably Wayne’s first real mission, which meant he was quite likely just a bundle of raw nerves on the inside. Maker remembered how wound up he’d been on his first assignment, how the knot in his gut didn’t untangle until after everything was over.

“That first night,” Wayne went on, “when I couldn’t fall asleep, I started tinkering. We had some odds and ends lying around – mostly from the drones – so I started putting them together. Next thing you know, Jerry was born.”

“So why’s he just wandering around my camp willy-nilly?” Maker asked.

“He’s got a makeshift tracker – something I cobbled together from spare parts,” Wayne replied, “so this was a bit of a test to see how long it would take for him to fi–”

“Wait a minute,” Maker said, cutting Wayne off. He tapped the comm piece in his ear. “Scope, come in.”

“Scope here, sir,” came the response a moment later.

“Do you have eyes on the camp?”

“Affirmative.”

“Did you happen to see a floating tin can wandering around haphazardly?”

“Affirmative.”

“Any particular reason why you didn’t blast it to bits?”

“It’s Jerry, sir.”

“Jerry,” Maker said, squinting and rubbing his temples. “Exactly how do you know about Jerry?”

“Tinker showed him to me this morning before I left,” Loyola said. “Wanted me to know that he wasn’t a bogey should I see him about.”

It took Maker a moment to recall that Tinker was now Wayne’s call sign. He shook his head in frustration before muttering, “That’s all, Scope. Carry on.”

Loyola’s acknowledgment of his last order barely registered with Maker as he turned his attention back to Wayne.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” Wayne began. “I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“Don’t worry about it – it’s not a big deal,” Maker assured him. “I think we’re all just on edge here waiting for something to happen.”

“Yes,” Snick agreed. “At least you’ve found a way to entertain yourself. I’ve been meditating more than usual to keep myself focused, but I really wish things were a bit more exciting at the moment.”

A short time later, he got his wish.

Chapter 19

It was the first real test of Maker’s group, and it occurred in the wee hours of the following morning. Well before dawn, Maker found himself being awakened by a relentless tugging on his arm. It was Erlen, who had a firm-but-gentle grasp on Maker’s wrist with his teeth.

“I’m awake,” Maker announced, sitting up. Erlen released his wrist and Maker spent a moment rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Erlen growled softly, in a way that Maker had no problem interpreting: something was wrong.

He was inside his tent, which – although larger than average (as befitted an officer) – was actually somewhat barren. Other than the portable cot that he slept on, there were few creature comforts. Aside from a single chair, the most notable remaining item was a footlocker that doubled as a nightstand; on it were Maker’s p-comp, sidearm, and comm piece, through which he could hear a tinny voice.

He put the comm piece in his ear. “Maker here,” he said, dispensing with the coded designations. “Somebody talk to me.”

“Tinker here, sir,” Wayne’s voice declared, which was expected since he was currently on watch in the dropship. “We’ve got inbound hostiles, two humans and a Lepido, heading in from the west on foot.”

“Give me a fix on our people,” Maker said.

“All accounted for, snug in their nests, awaiting your orders.”

Mentally, Maker let out a sigh of relief; his people were safe in their quarters. Initially, he’d had a slight concern about only leaving one person on watch, but they were a small crew and already stretched thin even before Diviana took off. They needed every member of their squad to go above and beyond, and Maker was relieved to see that they seemed capable of doing so.

“Send me a feed,” he said, reaching for his p-comp. “Everyone else as well.”

“Feed initiated,” Wayne replied.

Maker looked at his p-comp’s screen, which revealed the two humans and the reptilian Lepido that Wayne had mentioned stealthily approaching their location. Although the camp was dark, the surveillance units that had been set up for security were equipped with night vision lenses, and therefore broadcast very clear images.

The three intruders wore light body armor, but appeared well-armed. Also, despite wearing night vision goggles, they clearly failed to realize that they had triggered both the motion sensors and the cameras surreptitiously placed around the camp.

Idiots
, Maker thought to himself.

From the images, it appeared that their visitors were getting close to one of the sleeping tents, of which there were four. Maker and Adames both had their own; a third tent was designated for the use of Loyola and Diviana (although only the former was currently using it). The fourth and final tent was for Wayne, Snick, and Fierce, and it was also the one which the intruders were closing in on.

Maker reflected for a moment. With Wayne standing watch in the ship, that left Fierce and Snick in the tent. Moreover, the tents themselves, although equipped with motion-activated lights, were also completely sealable in order to keep out the elements: wind, sand, etc. In other words, the tents were light tight, and anyone approaching wouldn’t be able to guess as to whether the tent’s occupants were asleep or awake.

“Buddha,” he said, remembering Snick’s call sign, “prepare to engage.”

“Roger that,” Snick replied.

“Tinker,” Maker said, “light ’em up.”

“Showing these heathens the light, sir,” Wayne said.

A moment later, a small, luminous circle appeared on the monitor of Maker’s p-comp, then rapidly bloomed in size until the entire screen was whited out. However, before the image vanished, Maker saw their intruders whipping off their goggles in agitation.

“Now!” Maker shouted, before running out of his tent.

Outside, the entire camp was bathed in bright light. Maker headed directly for the area where the intruders were, but soon found himself trailing behind Erlen, who pulled away with impressive speed.

The sound of gunplay echoed from the target area, spurring Maker to try to run faster. Off to one side, he saw Adames headed in the same direction. He also saw both Fierce and Loyola exit from the women’s tent, but filed it away as something to address later, if necessary.

By the time the four of them reached the area of conflict, it was all over. The two human intruders were on the ground – one stretched out unconscious, the other cradling what appeared to be a broken arm – with Snick standing over them, grinning. The Lepido lay on his stomach, mewling pitifully while trying to reach around to his back, which was crisscrossed with clawmarks. Off to the side, Erlen dragged his claws back and forth through the sand, trying to get the reptilian’s green blood off them.

***************************************

They had their three “guests” inside the dropship, sitting on the floor with their backs to a wall. They had been stripped of their armor and other gear, which Wayne was now going through. Loyola and Snick were covering the trio with their own weapons, something that the man with the broken arm – who seemed to be the leader – took great offense to. His other human companion, while conscious now, seemed dazed.

Probably a concussion
, Maker thought.

The Lepido, although it hissed evilly, actually seemed terrified of Erlen, who sat directly in front of it, staring intently.

“Care to tell us what you were doing sneaking around our camp?” Maker asked, getting right to the point.

“We weren’t doing any sneaking around,” Broken Arm said between painful breaths. “We were just passing through when you people attacked us.”

“So passing through means that you cut through the center of our camp in the middle of the night wearing body armor and NVGs while armed to the teeth,” Maker said.

“Did you forget where we are?” Broken Arm asked. “This is Terminus! This is Beyond! Out here, toddlers walk around wearing armor and weapons.”

“Oh, so you’re saying we simply misjudged the situation and overreacted,” Maker concluded.

“Exactly,” Broken Arm replied, trying to convey sincerity and failing miserably.

Maker just stared at him. The man, scruffy and unshaven, was a little less than average in height when standing. He had a shifty look about him and an overall demeanor that screamed “criminal.”

Maker knew this type of individual – had encountered others just like him often enough to know that he was dealing with a born thief and liar.

“Well, since this is just a misunderstanding, I suppose we should just give you back all your equipment and let you go,” Maker said.

“That seems fair,” Broken Arm said, nodding.

“Ha!” Adames laughed mockingly. “Do you really think we’re that stupid?” Unexpectedly, his tone turned menacing. “We’ll see if you’re singing that same tune when I get through with you.”

Adames leaned in and reached threateningly towards the broken limb of their captive. The man flinched, trying to back away but there was nowhere to go. However, before Adames even touched him, a familiar voiced boomed out, echoing resonantly within the confines of the ship.

“Don’t,” Fierce said emphatically, the force of his tone making Adames stop and look at him. Rather than address the master sergeant, Fierce turned instead to Maker. “Please,” he said. “These people may be our enemies, but we don’t have to torture them to find out what they know.”

“Thanks, handsome, but I don’t need your help,” Broken Arm announced, seemingly finding a reservoir of courage from somewhere. “I’ve already told you the truth, so my story’s not going to change. Do your worst. I can take anything you
pruchuzos
can dish out.”

To add emphasis to the insult, he spat, leaving a glob of bloody phlegm on the floor of the ship.

“Oh, a tough guy,” Maker said in disdain. “Maybe
you
won’t talk, but is the same true of your companions?”

“Erlen,” Maker called out, before Broken Arm could reply. “Tear the Lepido’s face off.”

The Lepido screamed, holding its hands up in front of its face as Erlen growled and began to move slowly towards him. It continued shrieking, but after a moment Maker realized that it was actually speaking (albeit with a thick accent) and not just wailing in abject terror.

“
Tell him! Tell him!
” The Lepido was shouting. “
You tell him or I will!
”

Broken Arm looked at the Lepido like he wanted to lobotomize it. “Fine,” he said, his façade breaking down as a quick word from Maker made Erlen stop advancing on the Lepido. “We came here to rob you, just like you figured.”

“So what – millions of square miles of desert and you just happened to stumble across us and decided to take advantage of the situation?” Adames asked.

“No,” Broken Arm replied. “We heard that there was a crew of scientists out here doing research. A scientific expedition means supplies, tech, and so on. Things we can sell or trade – including a ship.”

“So your plan was to take our equipment, ship and supplies,” Adames said. “And what were you going to do with us?”

Broken Arm averted his eyes, staring at the floor. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out what would have happened to their squad had the intruders’ raid succeeded.

“Wait a minute,” Maker said before the silence grew too lengthy. “You said you ‘heard’ we were out here. Heard from who?”

Broken Arm was visibly relieved at the change of subject, stating, “We bought your information.”

“Huh?” Maker asked, more than a little confused.

“The scope of study you filed,” Broken Arm said, “indicating the region you’d be in, the type of work you’d be doing, the equipment you’d be using.”

Maker fought hard to keep his face expressionless, but he was utterly perplexed. Moreover, he couldn’t help exchanging an involuntary glance with Adames – something Broken Arm picked up on.

“You don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, do you?” their captive asked rhetorically, and then his eyes narrowed. “You’re no scientists.”

“You picked a bad time to reveal your detective skills,” Adames said to him, and Broken Arm’s eyes widened as he realized he and his companions were in a knows-too-much position with respect to their captors.

Adames turned to Maker. “What do you want to do with them?”

Maker reflected for a moment, and then stated flatly, “Ice ’em.”