The Last Flight of the Argus (5 page)

“
What do we do now?” Cardinal Lazarus inquired.

“
The Epsillon Empire is in exactly the same position as we are, toothless and clawless. Just as we planned.”

“
Do you think…?” Cardinal Beck said.

“
They’ve lost their big sticks,” Overlord Dante said. “As have we.”

The Overlord let out a sigh. It was going to be a very long series of days and weeks, what with sorting through the intelligence documents and debriefing all the government officials over and over again about the theories as to what happened at Erebus. Studies would proceed but if all went as planned, results would be very slow in coming.

If they come at all.

Overlord Dante noticed the bewildered and scared look on Cardinals Lazarus and Beck’s faces. He smiled.

“
The Gods be praised, gentlemen,” he said. “The war is over.”

CHAPTER ONE

AZUL NEBULA – 233 years later

The
Red Pelican
, a decrepit freighter running the route between Salvation and Orion, spotted the aberrant sensor blip purely by accident on the fifth week of its long trip.

The Captain of the freighter, who normally killed time inspecting his cargo or drinking himself into one long sleep after another, happened to be at the controls of his craft the day the blip appeared on his proximity sensors. He was familiar with this particularly desolate sector of space, and there was nothing in the outskirts of the Azul Nebula that should have triggered any alert.

The Captain, neither curious nor particularly interested in examining the source of this alert, nonetheless reported his findings as a warning to incoming merchant traffic and moved on. He eventually delivered his cargo to the planet Salvation.

Word of his find made its way to Merrick Enterprise’s corporate headquarters. They sent a scout ship to investigate the unidentified mass and the crew were shocked to discover a dark, lifeless luxury cruise ship drifting in the Nebula. The ship was identified as the
DeCarlo
, the crown jewel of Merrick Enterprise’s Cruise Lines. She was lost with all hands nearly a full year before and over ten light years away. It was presumed her engines malfunctioned and the craft burned up in the Persepolis’ red sun, one of the five stops on her usual voyage.

A salvage and rescue operation was quietly initiated.

What the Merrick officers found inside the cruise ship would give them nightmares for the rest of their lives.

CRUISE SHIP “MERRICK”, on the fringes of the Orion System – Two months later

Anyone
fortunate enough to see her could not help but be mesmerized by her opulence. The
Merrick’s
yellow surface looked like gold. The arches along her sides resembled flowing water. Her engines were among the most modern, and efficient, in the Epsillon Empire.

Like her owner and namesake, the
Merrick
was born to cruise the heavens.

The small cargo craft approaching her port side, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. Her bow bore the scars of considerable travel. Her lights flickered like weak candles against the darkness of space. She slowed to a crawl as she came alongside the mighty cruise ship, then eased her way into the first of the larger ship’s twenty docking births.

Jonah
Merrick sat behind an enormous oak desk and stared at a handful of financial reports. He was an elderly man with very thin and very gray hair. His face was stern; his eyes the color of charcoal. Now in his eighties, he was a small, frail man. The ravages of age masked the young and sturdy explorer he once was. The one whose fearlessness in exploring distant worlds bordered on reckless...and heroic.

With the passage of time, Merrick’s wanderlust faded. But he used the prestige of his name to gain valuable loans which he parlayed into a cruise line empire. His clients represented the Empire’s very rich; his ships’ destinations were exotic. Thanks to the runaway success of his cruise line, his personal wealth was incalculable.

Jonah Merrick put aside the last of the financial reports and stared out his cabin’s window. Like everything else on his personal cruise ship, the window was made to Merrick’s specifications and, thus, was enormous. Staring at the quiet star field offered Merrick an escape from the drudgery of the business world.

At this moment, however, the Epsillon magnate found the view distracting. His guest was due and Merrick needed to stay sharp. He pressed a button on the right side of his desk and the enormous window turned opaque. He then activated his intercom system.

“
Is he on his way yet?” Merrick inquired. Impatience hung heavy in his voice.

“
I’m here.”

The voice came from the far side of the room. The man who uttered the words stood at the office door. He was tall and muscular and had short, platinum blonde hair. His eyes were sunken deep within their sockets. To the casual observer, it appeared he had no eyes at all. Standing beside the man was Merrick’s personal secretary. She had escorted the man to this point.

“
You may leave,” Merrick told her.

She did so without saying a word. The office door slid closed behind her.

“
Please, have a seat,” Merrick told the man with the sunken eyes.

He sat in the chair opposite Merrick’s desk.

“
How may I help you, Mr. Merrick?” the man asked. His voice was low and controlled and cold as ice.

Merrick laid a black diskette on the table.

“
That’s a report on the recent… troubles…we’ve had with our cruise ships,” Merrick said. He pushed the disk forward, toward the platinum haired man. “I don’t like to waste time, so I’ll leave it to you to acquaint yourself with the details.”

The man did not reach for the diskette. He kept his hands folded.

“
I’ve spent considerable resources getting in touch with you, Mr. B’taav.”

“
I've noticed,” the man replied.

“
When I'm looking for certain...help...I demand the best. A few inquiries revealed those with even a passing acquaintance with you were impressed by your efficiency and successes. Several more inquiries revealed you were under contract with Octi Corporation. A curious choice, as they’re not the most reliable corporation to do business with.”

“
They pay.”

“
They also work for both Empires and have a habit of stabbing their employees in the back.”

B'taav offered no retort to this accusation. There was none worth giving.

“
Anyway, I contacted Octi and they were willing, after some negotiation, to let me take on your contract, at least for three months.”

B’taav’s eyebrow lifted.

“
As you no doubt have guessed, the cost to me was not inconsiderable,” Merrick continued. “But as of now, you’re my employee.”

“
I’m touched by your confidence. What makes you think I want to work with you?”

Merrick’s cold features softened. He let out a low chuckle.

“
What makes you think you won’t?”

“
Go on.”

“
The job I have requires you to travel to the Tauric System. More specifically, you are to go to the planet Salvation. One of the main ports of calls for my cruise ship fleet is located there and I suspect that office has been infiltrated by hostiles. Given that I am to make a major presentation there in the coming weeks, I want you to check the office out before I arrive. All your expenses will be paid for, and I will extend a healthy bonus for any positive resolution.”

B’taav stared deep into Merrick’s eyes.

“
I'll need more incentive.”

“
Like?”

“
Can you get me out of the Octi contract? Permanently?”

“
It’s certainly possible. Can we do business together?”

B’taav picked up the diskette.

“
We can do business.”

SALVATION, third planet in the Tauric System

Salvation
was so named three millennia before by a group of weary explorers whose journey veered perilously close to catastrophe. During those early years of space exploration, if you found yourself in trouble, there was no armada of ships to turn to for help. An uncomfortably high percentage of exploration crafts were never heard from again.

One such ship, the
Maria
, suffered major structural damage after colliding with space debris. Most of the ship’s major instruments were damaged while many of the crucial instruments, including the food distributor, were completely destroyed. Hurt and very hungry, the crew was forced to take a detour through the Tauric system. They were in desperate need of a safe harbor to conduct much needed repairs. They were also hoping, though this seemed a very long shot, to find a world that offered any sort of nutrients.

They feared the worst.

Cursory exploration of the Tauric system a few years before indicated the explorers would find neither food nor shelter. But luck was on their side. The early exploration data proved invalid and the third planet in the system not only had a breathable atmosphere, but also luscious fields of green and thousands of clear, fresh water lakes and a diverse resident fauna.

The crew of the
Maria
took their time repairing and re-supplying their ship. An exploration that appeared headed for disaster was thus saved.

And that’s how Salvation got its name.

Three thousand years later, the fauna and lush green fields were long gone, replaced by rusted walls and decaying concretal buildings. The lakes were contaminated with spill off from the ports. Rocket fuel, oils, and some three hundred man made substances labeled as “unknown” flowed through the once pristine waters. The planet’s soil turned into a chemical wasteland, her clear skies grew hazy and gray. In less than a thousand years’ time, Salvation become just like the other space port worlds in the Epsillon Empire.

The
old cargo craft’s sides were still smoking from orbital entry as she glided into one of Salvation’s landing bay ports. The pilot watched with diminished interest as the automated systems did their work. His left hand lay at his side; his right hand held a thermos. It took an hour to travel from Salvation’s Displacer to the planet’s atmosphere and then another half-hour to approach the landing strip.

The pilot took a sip of his warm tea. At this point it was the only thing keeping him awake.

“
Here
she comes,” the man in the dark trench coat said. He pointed beyond the smudged glass in the waiting room and at the skies over the Ferro City Star port. The four men with him looked up but didn’t move from their chairs.

“
Now we just gotta wait an hour or so for him to get through customs.”

One of the seated men shook his balding head.

“
He’ll be out as soon as the ship lands. Mayor’s orders.”

“
No kidding? This guy has that much clout?”

“
Enough,” the balding man said. He rose from his chair and said: “Come with me.”

The group followed him through the waiting room’s exit doors. A customs officer watched the group as they approached his post. He was ready to tell them to leave, that this was a restricted area.

When they showed him their Police badges, he let them through.

B’taav
stepped off the rear exit of the weathered cargo craft and onto the greasy landing strip. While he stretched, he took a cautious breath of the air and found it, despite the strong scent of gasoline, adequate. He gripped his black duffel bag tight and, using a remote control, shut the doors to his craft. When he was certain the ship’s security lock was engaged, he followed the markings on the ground to the south side of the landing strip.

Another cargo ship screamed overhead as it lifted off. The burst of its after burners sent a stiff, warm breeze in B’taav’s direction. He increased his pace and reached a rail beside the doors leading into the Customs Building. He looked up at the doors, and a scowl appeared on his face.

A group of five men exited the building, waved at him, and approached. B’taav’s free hand reached into the black duffel bag he carried and gripped the handle of his fusion gun. They smiled and appeared friendly enough, but experience told him he could never be too careful. Especially when outnumbered five to one.

“
Hey!” the balding man at the front of the group called out. “I’m Len Herbert.”

Whether the balding man noted B’taav’s right hand was in the duffle bag or not, he nonetheless slowly,
very
slowly, reached into his coat and pulled out his ID badge. “We were contacted by your company. Merrick Enterprises wanted us to give you a hand while you were here.”

B’taav eyed the badge. He recognized the standard shield of the Epsillon Law Enforcement Agency.