Alien Cradle by Jeff Inlo (web ebook reader txt) 📕

holy murder if I find out you haven't been straight with me."

Jack looked to the floor, but spoke very clearly. "There is then one thing I should make clear right now, as I don't want it to be misunderstood in the future. I met with Sinclair just before she died. I told her of the sanctions against her. I placed the pills on her desk before I left, but I did not make her take them. She did that on her own. But, it was what I had hoped for. Do you wish to change your mind about the position?"

Dr. Farmer revealed no sign of sorrow or distress. He tapped his fingers together lightly as he gave his simple response.

"No."

Rath sat in a large, busy tavern when the briefing occurred. The feed was carried to Janus on a courier ship. The actual mediacast occurred over five standard hours ago, but this was the first anyone on Janus heard of the jolting revelation. A minister from the Regency Bureau of Information read a prepared statement before taking questions.

The words struck at Rath like bullets. He stared in stunned disbelief as the minister revealed everything; the unnatural creation of an alien, the planting of colonies on Fenrir, the unfettered advancement of the Fenrites.

Blame was placed squarely on some scientist who just committed suicide, though the minister acknowledged an ongoing investigation into her death. The Authority was named, as were many of the councils, but their roles were confined to actions based on misrepresentations of the scientist in charge and the false pretenses of an alien existence. Jack, the coordinator whose business it was to lie, was not mentioned.

Rath found that point interesting, but he wasn't mentioned, either. And for the moment, the media reps did not consider the role of the initial scout.

"They'll get around to it," he muttered.

Not a pleasant thought, but a more unnerving consideration quickly removed any concern over media questions. What was Regency going to do with him now? He was allowed to return to his life because of the deal Angelo had made with the coordinator. But what now? That deal wasn't worth spit. He was safe as long as Regency wanted to hide the truth about the Fenrites, but they were coming clean on their own.

The heavy load was right back on Rath's shoulders, but this time it brought with it panic - shaking, mind-clouding, disorienting panic. Within the bar, all eyes remained fixed on the three dimensional display of the information minister, but Rath kept sensing a focus on himself, as if the people knew he was part of this, and they weren't about to let him go.

He paid his tab with a quick swipe of his wristband before he clumsily rose to his feet. He almost fell.

Still, those around him watched the mediacast. No one called out; no one attempted to stop him.

He moved through the crowd, trying to make his way to the door. Grunts of disapproval greeted him as he slowly nudged through the throng gathered about the monitor. It was like walking though a jungle. Worse, it felt like every pair of hands was ready to take hold, to stop him from fleeing.

He tried to hold back a cough, but in the end, it forced its way out louder. A few more grunts of displeasure demanded silence.

Finally, thankfully, he reached the door. He wanted to glance over his shoulder, but he didn't take the chance. If he had, he would have noticed that no one was paying attention.

The streets were empty. Everyone had entered a tavern or communications center to watch the media cast. It felt good to be out in the open, but only for a moment. New fears entered his brain, unsubstantiated fears, but no less disquieting. He shied away from alleys, looked to the rooftops in search of secretive movements. He saw nothing, but he remained far from convinced of his own safety. He tensed as if expecting an assassin's bullet in the back.

His thoughts swam back to his last encounter with Regency. They had followed him to the pirate base of Semele. They were in the process of leveling the complex when a stroke of simple fate redirected the efforts of Authority gunners. They wanted him dead then, why would they want to keep him alive now?

He looked to a magnorail station, but decided against it. He stayed on the walkways beneath the skimmer paths. He might have been an open target, but at least the space gave him a zone of comfort, a sense of freedom.

He walked the full distance to the freight pads. Near the end, his ankles ached, but once he reached sight of his ship, he increased his pace.

Before entering the scout, he glanced at the space control panel. The pattern remained clear and he could probably request immediate takeoff.

He didn't stop to think about where he was going, didn't pause to develop a plan. He just wanted to launch. He pulled himself through the port hatch and nearly leapt the last six steps to the cockpit. He found he was not alone.

The coordinator never looked up. He scanned coded reports from his own portable as he pointed to the pilot's chair.

"Take a seat, Scampion. We're going on a little trip, something I want you to see. By the way, before you get any funny ideas, there are Espial agents monitoring us right now."

Rath groaned a curse that echoed throughout his body.

The noise brought Jack's attention to the scout. "That sounded awful. Don't get too desperate on me. There's still a good deal to see."

Rath remembered when he first surrendered to the marauders. This felt worse. He collapsed into his chair and eyed the controls with pure futility.

Jack smiled. "When you give up, you really give up."

"Screw you," Rath mouthed, but it was hardly forceful.

"I guess you have a little bit of spunk left in you. Not much, but a little. Do you want to know where we're heading or should I surprise you?"

"Why don't you just tell me, asshole? I'm tired of surprises."

"I guess you should be. We're heading to Semele."

"Imagine that," Rath shrugged.

"Yeah, imagine that," Jack growled. "You want to launch this thing or should I bring in an Espial pilot? I have one waiting."

"The smell is bad enough in here with just you, thanks," Rath scoffed.

"Good! Then let's launch and I'll set the course precepts. We should be there in about twenty-five standard hours or so."

Rath punched the props to launch power. He mumbled to himself, cursed his own stupidity. As the scout was given top priority in the pattern, he was able to exert full Boscon propulsion within minutes. The instant they were in push, he sat back in his chair but kicked the metal support in front of him.

"You don't seem to be in a good mood at all," Jack remarked, but his attention remained on his portable.

"I'll do a dance next time I'm this stupid."

"You think you made a mistake somewhere along the line?"

"I made a lot of mistakes, pal," Rath admitted. "Every one of 'em brings me right back to you."

"That may be so, and I'd love to discuss it further, but I just downloaded certain communications and I need to address some things. You won't mind if I use your quarters for a little privacy, right?"

Jack got up to leave, but offered one warning. "Don't get any bright ideas up here. There's a spy vessel following the Boscon wake of this craft. You try to go off course and you won't get to see anything beyond a deep space funeral."

"And if I stay on course, will I get to see something different?" Rath asked with dry skepticism.

"Keep an open mind, Scampion. You've got nothing to lose to see this thing through."

"That's probably just some more coordinator bullshit."

"That doesn't sound like an open mind to me," Jack stated with raised eyebrows, but he didn't wait for a response.

The scout dropped out of push exactly as scheduled. Near a hundred signals on the scanners indicated the presence of a full fleet.

Jack was back in the cockpit, still reading and writing memos on his portable.

"Bring us to a full stop," the coordinator demanded.

Rath shrugged, but did as he was told.

Jack made a direct connection between his portable and the ships communication systems. With but a few commands, he had a direct line to a spy vessel scanning the planet Semele.

"Taranson? That you?"

"Yes, sir," the captain replied.

"Everything in order?"

"The mark has been pinpointed and identified. We have conclusive acquisition of the mark as we speak. No ships have left the system and all satellites have been destroyed."

"Excellent. Keep tabs on our mark to confirm elimination."

"Roger that. Will transfer scanner readings through this link. Your portable should display tracker reports."

Even from Rath's chair, he could see the portable glow with new light.

"Transfer enabled, readings received," Jack confirmed. "Signal the fleet commander. It's his go. And thank him for waiting."

Jack turned to Rath. "I seem to remember a similar situation, don't you? We were in a transport watching Fenrir." Jack turned a wry smile. "I told you that the Authority was going to try and save Fenrir, but that wasn't quite the truth."

"Another lie? I'm shocked." Rath noted with dry sarcasm.

Jack continued, ignoring the remark. "The melees fired the nuclear missiles, not the Fenrites. Or did you figure that out yet? We wanted to destroy them right then and there. They never had silos. We doctored those pictures I showed you. We just wanted to make it look like they destroyed themselves, but it didn't turn out as I expected. They shot almost everything down as if they were ready for us. Some of the researchers think they were, that somehow they knew we would be coming for them. As it turns out, they ended up using the nuclear warheads on the Planning Station, not at all what we expected. Yes, that little incident didn't turn out as expected, but I doubt I'll have the same problem here. No, this is the end of Angelo."

"How do you know he's really down there?" Rath offered, hoping to maybe take some air out of the coordinator's balloon. "He probably knows the word is out on the Fenrites. He knows his bargaining chip is gone. Maybe he realizes you're coming after him just like the Fenrites did."

Jack shook it off like rain on a duck's back. "Do you think I would be stupid enough to release the information on the Fenrites without putting a rope around our marauder friend's neck first? The fleet has been in control of this system for over two standard days. An Authority subcommander met with Angelo in person yesterday. Our friend wasn't too happy at the arrival of the fleet, said we broke our word. He even threatened to go public, but the subcommander was authorized to inform him we were going public ourselves. I can bet he wasn't too happy about that. No, he's down there. You heard the report from the spy ship, didn't you? We've got him marked. See?" The coordinator turned his portable to reveal the location of the mark. "He's down there, and we'll know exactly when he's deceased."

Jack