The Hunted Assassin (8 page)

“Then why tell me at all?” she asked.

“Like I said. Because of Celeste.”

Concern spread across Lily’s face as she looked at their daughter. She envied her carefree outlook on life.

Lily placed her hand on Jaxon’s arm, soothingly. “You have my word. I don’t agree with your decision, but I understand why you’re doing this. After you’re … gone, I will tell Celeste all about you.”

Warmth and relief filled Jaxon. Thankful for his worry to be put to rest, he placed his hand atop Lily’s. “Thank you.”

Suddenly, warning alarms blared inside the compact pod, pulling Jaxon back to the present. He blinked away the hazy fog and focused on the control screen in front of him. It was a navigational sensor alarm indicating that he’d continued to tumble, randomly, through space and was nearing the point of no return unless he took immediate action.

12

Jaxon muted the alarm then accessed the external sensors. Despite being frustrated at the lack of detail on the miniature display, he zoomed out as far as he could. Rotating the directional vector array in various aspects, he searched for any approaching ships.

None were visible.

Glancing at the clock, he saw that he’d been dozing for nearly an hour. He knew that the likelihood of any lingering ships in the vicinity was still possible, but slim at best. Chances were they’d all returned to moon base or Taloo Station, respectively.

Marginally confident that any navigational maneuvering he’d do now would go undetected, Jaxon promptly entered Luna City as his destination and hit execute.

Beep, beep, beep.

Jaxon pressed execute again but received the same warning alarm. Looking deeper, he found that the warning was telling him that he’d entered a destination further away than he had enough fuel for.

“Shit,” Jaxon mumbled.

He flipped the display back to close range sensors and pivoted the display to the surface of the moon. As he scanned for a secondary port, suitable to receive the escape pod, additional warnings began to blare.

“Give me just a minute, dammit,” he yelled.

The new series of warnings told Jaxon that immediate action was necessary to avoid an unrecoverable decline to the surface of the moon.

Tapping his fingers much more quickly, he found his best option to land was not terribly far from his current position. It appeared to be some sort of surface mining facility that had a small clearing which he hoped was suitable for a dust off and landing.

He checked and double checked the coordinates before entering them into the computer. As soon as he hit execute, he began to feel a pit of uneasiness build up. He hoped that whoever it was that occupied the facility was of the non-confrontational variety because he was really tired of all the killing.

Seconds after the computer accepted the destination, the slow tumble of the escape pod ceased as miniature thrusters leveled out its trajectory. Then, the rear engines fired, jettisoning him toward the mining farm.

As the escape pod bounded toward the moon’s surface, Jaxon became increasingly concerned with his approach speed. Having years of piloting experience under his belt, he knew that unless he reduced the thrust of the engine, he’d be coming in far too fast to make a clean landing. He cycled through several screens on his display but found no manual override. He flipped back to the main radar screen, and the surface of the moon continued to increase in size exponentially. ETA flashed ninety seconds, in crimson numerals.

Jaxon gave up on searching for an override and grabbed his satchel. He pulled out his mask and helmet shield and quickly slipped them on. He knew that a rough landing was imminent, and there was no telling how the escape pod would perform.

With the last of his environmental suit connected and secured, he braced for impact. The digital readout on the display counted down as the surface of the moon neared. He did one last check of his safety harness before gripping the side walls for support.

Eight, seven, six, five …

Suddenly, the rear thrusters cut out and the bow thrusters kicked in. The escape pod pivoted around ninety degrees, before gently setting down on the moon’s surface.

The landing took Jaxon by complete surprise, as it was one of the smoothest automated landings that he’d experienced in all his years in space. He smiled as he powered down the computers. Lastly, he released the locking mechanism on the escape hatch and unfastened his safety harness.

“Honey, I’m home,” Jaxon mused as he climbed up and out of the escape pod.

13

Jaxon stood on the surface of the moon, taking in the vast expanse of nothingness. As he walked around the escape pod, his eyes remained fixed on the horizon until the image of Earth dissected the sky beyond. Despite having frequented the moon many times throughout his career, seeing the spectacle was awe-inspiring. He wondered if there would ever be a day when he’d be able to return to the planet, or if he was destined to live a life on the run. The last several hours certainly did not bode well for him.

After several minutes of analyzing his immediate surroundings, Jaxon rolled up his coat sleeve, revealing a flexible vid display stitched into his environmental suits arm. A couple taps on the screen with his gloved hand and the condition of his environmental suit filled the display.

Oxygen level: ninety-six percent.

Time to depletion: three hours, forty-seven minutes.

Power level: eighty-four percent.

Time to recharge: seven hours, two minutes.

Happy that his suit had maintained its reserve levels so well while sitting in a crate for such a long period, Jaxon cleared the display and brought up a proximity guide to sort out his current location.

As the map slowly generated, Jaxon continued to scan the horizon, hoping to glimpse some kind of structure or habitat that he could head for. After several minutes of squinting across the moon’s surface, a notification alarm dinged in his ear.

The map displayed the escape pod’s location—on the edge of Rehlo Crater, just a few dozen clicks from Mare Cognitum. According to the readout, that particular parcel of the moon’s surface had been leased out for private strip mining. Jaxon quickly tapped the more info button, but no further information could be displayed.

Returning to the map display, an amber-colored arrow blinked slowly at his current location. He increased the magnification level and found a substantially sized structure just outside of the crater’s edge. It was just under three kilometers toward the southern pole, and it wouldn’t take him all that long to get there.

Jaxon stretched, took a series of deep breaths, and began to walk in the direction of the structure, noting how strange it felt to be walking in such low gravity again. As his pace increased, he concluded that the distance might pass much quicker than anticipated due to the lightness of his footsteps. Each step expending much less physical energy than what he was used to.

With a moderate walking pace established, Jaxon’s mind switched to survival mode. He analyzed his life on Taloo Station and wondered where he might have gone wrong. He’d made it eight years there before being discovered. At least as far as he knew, that was. Then, nearly a dozen assassins were sent to take him out.

His first question: who sent the killers? Was it someone that he’d wronged somehow in his past life? Could it possibly be the company coming for him after discovering that he was alive all along?

Second question: where could he go now? Jaxon’s mind chewed on that thought for some time.

The answer to the second question was very much related to the first. If he knew who it was that was after him, he’d much better be able to determine the length he’d have to travel for self-preservation. There was no use heading for another inner-ring space station if the facial recognition present at nearly every entry portal would certainly give him away. Same thing for entering Luna City. That’s assuming that it was the company that was after him.

Jaxon sighed deeply. It became apparent that his only alternative might be to head to the outer ring, where crime and corruption were the daily norm. The company would be less likely to pursue him there. That’s also assuming that he could even survive long enough to get there. The question still remained: Who was after him, and how far would they go to kill him?

Having hiked the first kilometer without any contact, in the far distance Jaxon could make out what appeared to be some kind of surface vehicle. A moon buggy. And it was heading directly toward him.

“Looks like it’s about game time,” Jaxon mumbled.

Jaxon continued on his current heading as he watched the buggy grow in size as it closed the distance. Within minutes, the transport was nearly upon him. Seated behind the clear bowl-shaped windshield was an older man with a gray beard, much longer than Jaxon had seen in years. He wondered just how somebody with that much facial hair could even wear an environmental suit.

As the buggy stopped, the old-timer waved at Jaxon then motioned him in. Cautiously, Jaxon nodded and moved to the side of the vehicle where a hatch was beginning to swing out.

Once the door was open, Jaxon climbed in and cycled through the pressure chamber before moving further into the vehicle. Making his way forward, he verified the environment was safe to breathe before removing his helmet and face shield. As he finished stowing them in his satchel, the old-timer opened the door to the cockpit.

“Well, what we got here?” the old man asked. “Looks like yer having a bit of car trouble, eh?”

Jaxon was a little baffled by the codger’s slang and ancient earth accent. “Oh, you mean the escape pod?” Jaxon asked. “Yeah, I had a thruster problem on my ship and had to bail before I went down with the vessel.”

“Yep. I reckon that’s what that flash was a while ago. Ain’t that thing got any better distance?” he asked as he stroked his beard, probably out of habit.

“You’d think, but here I am. Sorry about landing on your property,” Jaxon said as he nodded in the direction in which he came.

“Ain’t no thing. I reckon yer probably gonna be looking for a ride to the nearest call station?” the old man asked, surveying Jaxon with a peculiar look.

“If it isn’t too much trouble,” Jaxon said. “I’d be willing to pay you for your time and effort. I’m …” Jaxon paused to determine what name he should be using. “I’m Jaxon,” he finished, deciding that Martin Wheeler might have taken his last breath in this sector.

“Names DeWitt. Yeah, I can give you a ride. I was fixin’ to head that way anyway, so you can keep yer money.” DeWitt turned and stepped back into the cockpit. Jaxon followed and took the copilot seat.

“About how far of a ride is it to Luna City?” Jaxon asked.

“Luna City? Are you out of your mind? It’s at least three hours away. No sir, I’m headin’ to Carver Outpost. Yea, should be able to secure transport through the tunnels on into Luna City, if that’s yer destination,” DeWitt said as he adjusted a few controls on his dashboard before engaging the drive.

“Okay, then. How long until we get to Carver?” Jaxon asked, conceding that landing where he did was probably a blessing as he wouldn’t have to explain his arrival at the docks of Luna City.

“Thirty minutes. Max,” DeWitt said as he pointed his moon buggy toward their destination and engaged the autopilot.

Jaxon caught DeWitt giving him a sideways look again, his curiosity certainly piqued by his sudden appearance.

“Tell me, DeWitt, what is it you mine out here?” Jaxon asked, hoping to divert the attention away from himself.

“Oar, mostly. There’s some heavy mineral deposits all over the surface, and the moon is littered with meteorites,” DeWitt said, turning directly toward Jaxon.

“Isn’t that the truth?” Jaxon said. “But hasn’t the surface been picked clean? I know nine or ten years ago, the reports indicated that most of the meteorite salvage had been exhausted.”

DeWitt nodded. “Yep. Sounds ‘bout right. I got this parcel pretty cheap around about that time. You’re not really from around here, are ya?” DeWitt asked as he sized up Jaxon’s attire.

“Oh no, not at all. I spent a good deal of time here a decade or so ago but not so much since,” Jaxon said as he adjusted his posture, attempting to betray a sense of confidence. It had been years since he’d had to use the technique, but he was confident that he hadn’t lost his touch.

“Listen, I got to ask you a question, Jaxon, was it?” DeWitt began. “Where in tarnation did you get that environmental suit? If you ask me, you look like some kind of futuristic techno-nerd. Because that suit looks out of this world. I’ve been up on this rock looking down on earth for coming up on six years now and boy, let me tell you. That is one, fancy, suit yer wearin’ there. That must’ve set you back a pretty penny.”

Oh, shit,
Jaxon thought. He instantly regretted not stocking his go bag with used riggings as opposed to the top of the line company-issued gear. What could he tell the old guy without sounding too farfetched?

“What, this old thing? I, uh, picked this up off of a freighter about a year ago. I think the merchant said something about it belonging to some government guy that got blasted out into space. Sometimes I feel it’s a size or two too small for me, know what I mean?” Jaxon hoped that his improvisational skills were up to snuff.