Hard Cargo (Necropsace Book 6), page 1
HARD CARGO
Necrospace Book 6
By Sean-Michael Argo
Copyright 2018 by
Sean-Michael Argo
Edited by TL Bland
NO REST
A caustic wind blew through his soul as the undead machine reached out for him and everything went black.
The first thing he noticed was her smell, the delicate aroma washing over his senses and drawing him from sleep, raising him up from the depths of some dark place and into awareness. Shadows receded, and ghosts faded away as her hands moved gently across his chest, over countless scars of battles won and lost, and then guided him into her gentle warmth. Her hair cascaded across his face as she leaned over to draw him in closer. As her lips met his, he found the strength to surge upwards despite the pain of his wounds. Their bodies wound together upon the soft sheets, like mating snakes rolling through fallen leaves, and together, they knew a boundless joy.
The nature of such moments is that they fade, and as Samuel lay on his back, with Sura's head resting upon his chest, he felt the dull pain in his body begin to flare into something more robust. He did not want the moment to end, and fought against it, gritting his teeth against the sharp edges of agony.
Doc Rayburn had saved the marine's life, but the field surgery had been a crude one, and the healing somewhat haphazard. He had a weak tea that Doc made from some of the leaves that grew locally, but there was little in the way of pharmaceutical painkillers beyond the handful that Doc had given him shortly after Samuel had awakened on the bloody grass of the clearing.
Samuel focused on the lock of dark hair that lay across Sura's face, watching it flutter back and forth as her sleeping breath moved through it. They hadn't been able to keep their hands off each other in the week since Samuel and the other Longstriders had fought the Tasca slavers, and though they were as careful as lovers could be, the continued activity came with a cost. The two bullet wounds in Samuel's side were positively screaming now, the electric sting of nerve endings howling for the marine to adjust his position. He could lay on his side, but that would mean letting the moment go, and Samuel wanted every second of it he could seize.
The two of them had fought through lonely years and countless enemies to make their life together and then had been forced to continue fighting. The pain in his side was a brutal reminder of the endless struggle that was his life, Sura’s life, and their son's life.
As his thoughts drifted to Orion, his gaze drifted around the small bedroom of the cabin he and Sura had built together. He realized that the dawn light was only now peeking through the window.
The boy would still be asleep, thought Samuel, before considering that soon he would no longer be able to think in those terms. Orion was on the cusp of young adulthood, and soon he would begin his own struggle to find life and identity in this vast scrapyard of a universe.
The sound of movement outside the door caught Samuel's attention, and he could hear his son making his best attempts at being quiet as he prepared for the outdoors. Cragg, the saurian companion that had been with Orion since hatching, made a soft clicking sound with its claws as it moved across the short hallway from Orion's bedroom and into the main cabin.
The sound of a rifle's slide racking, the chambering of a round, told Samuel that Orion was leaving for a grok hunt. The quadrupeds were most active in the dawn hours, and the flesh of one of them would feed the family, and Cragg, for several weeks if Orion was able to take one. They were cunning creatures, silent and adept at camouflage. They were the prey of the large feline creatures that sometimes prowled the lonely forests of Longstride. Cragg's flesh was poisonous to the big cats, and so as long as the saurian was nearby, Orion would have little to fear from the planet's apex predator.
The thought of predators brought to mind the Tasca slavers once more and left Samuel faced with a decision he still had to make. In the last week the dreams had only gotten worse, and no matter how much love he made to his wife or how much of Doc's homemade tea he quaffed, the Gedra nightmare persisted. There had been something in one of the cryo-crates they'd offloaded from the Tasca ship, and though he lay wounded and dying, Samuel could hear it roaring in his mind. The other Longstriders felt it too, a sort of evil radiating from the crate. After opening all the others crates to set the people inside free, the large, menacing one had been left alone.
Doc had told Samuel they'd hauled it into the forest, just past Kovac's Ridge, and buried it. The Longstriders had destroyed the transponders on all the cryo-crates, except for the one with blackout plates welded onto the crate's viewports. They were going to affix several thermal charges and slag the cryo-crate, but before passing out, Samuel had apparently turned his head and looked at it. Both the pilot, Tanya, and Doc Rayburn had heard Samuel say "I know you" to the crate. Given the palpable energy coming off the thing, they had decided to leave it for Samuel to determine how to deal with it once he'd healed.
The truth was, Samuel had been avoiding making this decision for the last several days. If he was well enough to be with his wife, even if it cost him tremendous pain afterward, then he could take the skiff out past the ridge. Though Samuel was loath to bring him, Orion was becoming a solid driver, and the marine would need the boy's help to dig up the crate. Samuel wasn't sure what he would do once he had unearthed it, but he knew it was time to make the journey.
The moment had passed, Samuel realized as he looked down to meet Sura's open eyes. He had no idea how long she'd been watching him, but from the expression on her face, it was clear she knew what he was thinking.
"Whatever is in that crate isn't just buried, Samuel," Sura said in a small voice, gentle, but firm, "It is waiting for you."
"I keep having the Gedra dream, and I know there's more to it than trade war PTSD," responded Samuel as he winced from the pain of both he and Sura shifting their positions ever so slightly. "I think I've been avoiding it."
"We do what needs to be done, husband. We are Longstriders now." Sura moved a hand up to cup Samuel's face. "And before that, we were Grotto born and raised. Facing things, getting on with it, is in our blood."
"Fair point, wife," said Samuel, with a grim smile. "Even in our most tender moments, there is steel in our spine. Well, mine, at least."
"Who are you and what have you done with my marine?" laughed Sura with a theatrical flair as she framed the question. "I do believe you just made a joke, and that is a far cry from the brooding boy I met outside the Enforcer's Spire."
"Getting shot and getting laid all in the same week does things to a man," smirked Samuel as he gripped Sura's thigh, inviting her to slide the rest of the way up his body to straddle him. "When Orion gets back from the hunt I'll dose on Rayburn's tea and take the skiff."
"The world might change again," breathed Sura before she kissed Samuel deeply and began to move her hips against his, the pleasure of her upon him balancing out the toll it cost him in pain, "Depending on what you find there."
"Then let's make the most of the dawn while we have it," whispered Samuel as he gripped Sura's waist, the rush of hormones already pushing the pain out of his consciousness and filtering out everything but the woman on top of him.
Hours later Samuel breathed deeply of the moist forest air and was happy that he got his lungs full without a lance of pain stopping him short. Doc's tea was perhaps stronger than he'd given it credit for, thought Samuel, as he took some small pleasure in how fresh and clean the air was on this tiny planet. With no industry to speak of, beyond the homesteading of the locals, there was nothing to befoul the pristine natural landscape. That was why Sura had picked this place, and Samuel felt that there could be no more perfect home in the universe.
He turned his head and looked at Orion as the boy skillfully piloted the small skiff over the land.
Orion was still in his hunting kit, which was a patchwork body glove made out of leather and ceramic plates, carefully crafted to give maximum mobility with modest protection from thorn, tooth, and claw. It was still a little big for him, but he'd soon fill it out well.
Though the boy had been born in the grinding industrial society of Grotto and had spent his early years in the cramped living quarters of corporate housing, space stations, and starships, he had blossomed in the rugged environment of Longstride. It was amazing what open air and clean food could do for a child. Samuel felt a surge of pride as he watched the youngster deftly maneuver around the large trees and massive moss-covered boulders that covered the forest floor.
Sura had insisted that Orion accompany Samuel on this journey, and though she declared that it was so the marine wouldn't have to overexert himself, Samuel knew it was more for Orion's benefit. Riding with the marine to unearth something that was sure to be trouble, carried a risk that none of them could ignore. Samuel himself was fully suited in his Reaper armor and cradled his combat rifle with deadly purpose. In fact, it was when she had seen the marine preparing himself for possible violence that Sura had encouraged Orion's participation.
Samuel knew what she was doing, and though it darkened his thoughts to consider, he found himself in reluctant agreement. Sura had been forced to become a different person when Helion troops attacked Pier 16. She had fled with Orion and found a place on the freelance, ink-rock prospector ship, Rig Halo as a refugee, though by the time she stepped off the ship she'd been transformed into a warrior and ink-rocker herself. Through the many hardships of life in necrospace, Sura had fought her own war even as Samuel endu red his on the Ellisian front. The assault by the Tasca slavers had rattled everyone, and Sura clearly wanted her son to take a step towards being prepared for the larger and much more grim reality that lurked beyond the boundaries of their forest paradise.
Orion was scared, that was easy to tell, like any child would be, though he was excited too, and in that excitement, Samuel could almost see the man that his son might one day become.
The boy had been a baby while on Grotto and a toddler on Pier 16. It was aboard the Rig that his mind had begun to take shape, amidst the rough crowd of laborers, adventurers, and outcasts that comprised the Halo's crew. His most formative years had been here, on Longstride, where he'd learned to build, to hunt, to grow, and to fend for himself just as much as his family. Orion was old enough his mind had begun to thirst for knowledge, yearning for experience beyond the green world and his parent's homestead.
In the settlement, there were girls aplenty to turn the head of any boy, and Samuel had seen the spark in Orion's eyes at the last festival, but this was something different. It was that same glimmer the boy's eyes had when his father would tell him tales of the mighty ganger, Vol, or the mercenary mystic, Imago, the daring of Reaper Ben Takeda, and countless other tales from Samuel's Reaper life. Stories wiped clean of the blood and misery, given the shine of heroism and adventure. Orion knew there was more to it now, and he was hungry for that truth.
They were wearing armor and carrying weapons, moving through the woods for no festival or hunt, but to unearth some piece of a distant war. Or not so distant, Samuel reminded himself, as he ejected the combat rifle's magazine and re-slotted it, an old habit from his early days as a salvage marine. There was violence in the air, and the memory of firefights and lost comrades were as fresh as the wind. It had only been a week since the fight with the Tasca, and though Tanya had done her best to field strip and clean the Reaper armor, Samuel could see traces of blood and smears of gun grease on parts of the interlocking plates that protected his body. The pilot had done her best, but she was no marine.
Nor was Orion, thought Samuel, feeling guilty for a brief moment that he'd agreed to bring the boy. He then recalled his last sight of Sura as the skiff had pulled away when he'd left to fight the slavers. She'd been standing on the porch, her hair falling across her shoulders, face delicate and beautiful, but her eyes as hard as the metal of Vol's heavy revolver, strapped to her thigh. Sura had learned how to survive, how to fight back, to protect what was hers, and Samuel knew it was high time Orion began his own education in that regard.
"One minute out," said Samuel as he pointed towards a cluster of trees just across a stream that they were rapidly approaching. "Set us down over there, we make the final approach on foot."
"Yes sir," responded Orion, his voice the awkward mix of high and low tones that boys of his age possessed, as he guided the skiff around a boulder and down the slope towards the tree cluster.
The skiff was small, only large enough for two passengers and a modest amount of gear, which in this case was a force-shovel and Cragg. The vehicle, which hovered several feet off the ground, smoothly eased to a stop just at the trees, and then gently lowered itself onto landing stabilizers as Orion shut the turbines down.
Samuel dismounted the vehicle and made a security sweep of the area moving in a tight circle. He came around to Orion's side, holding the skiff steady as his son clambered out andgot his rifle ready. Cragg leaped out of his perch onto the loamy ground.
Samuel turned to Orion as he held his combat rifle in the ready position, making a display of disengaging the safety.
"If I move, you move. If I stop, you stop. If I shoot, you shoot," said Samuel flatly, easily falling back into his squad leader's demeanor as if it had not been half a decade or more since he'd been an active duty marine. "Copy?"
"Um, yes, sir," stammered Orion for a moment, visibly shaken by the sight of his father's helmeted face and armored body, as if only now realizing how real this story had become. "I mean, copy."
Samuel gave his son a curt nod and turned to march deeper into the woods, flanked by Cragg as the saurian joined them. It was easy to see the disturbed earth where the other Longstriders had unloaded a digger from their cargo skiff, and as the marine approached he could tell just how hastily it was all done. They hadn't tried to cover their tracks, which was just as well since they'd told him where to go, but it was clear from how badly they tore up the terrain that everyone had been in a rush. He did not blame them, as the entire area pulsed with menace, and as Samuel walked onwards he noticed how the saurian grew more and more agitated.
The trio crested the ridge after another five minutes of trudging through the underbrush, following the crude trail hacked out by the heavy machinery used to deposit the cryo-crate. Below them, Samuel could, at last, see where the crate had been buried. The frontier folk had used an agri-class force shovel, likely mounted to one of their skiffs, to tear a vast chunk of rock and dirt out of the land. From the ruts in the ground, it looked as if they'd shove the crate into the crater and then, perhaps not so gently, released the field on the shovel and allowed all of that earth to fall back down into the massive hole. The entire process, while crude, would have taken only moments.
Cragg hissed with aggression and what, to Samuel seemed like fear as the saurian moved in a wide circle around the crater. While the sauropod was unwilling to go further it also appeared unwilling to turn its back on the area. Samuel swept his eyes across the area, and after deciding that there weren't any unwanted eyes watching them, he moved forward. Once he was right at the edge of the crater, the feeling of menace felt like a gale force wind blowing against his mind, and as he looked at Orion, he saw that the boy could feel it too. He suspected, however, that others, including his son, did not feel it quite as potently as he did. Orion was uncomfortable and knew he was in the presence of something that could only be described as evil, and yet Samuel could tell it was not pushing against the boy's psyche the way it was for him.
It was almost a voice to Samuel's perceptions, something just beneath the surface of his consciousness, calling out to him. Or screaming at him, thought the marine as he took note of how the moss and lesser vegetation inside the crater's boundary had already begun to wither and die. Corruption and madness radiated from whatever was down there inside the crate, and now that he was so close, Samuel's suspicions about what he had to do were growing.
"Bring up the shovel," said Samuel without turning around, gesturing with the muzzle of his rifle at a patch of dying moss covered with dirt just inside the crater area, and Orion slung the solo-class device from his shoulder. "Start there,” Samuel directed pointing at the spot. “Take it slow, just like you’re digging an irrigation trench. The others took a big risk just dropping tons of dirt and rock on this thing. If they breached containment we might have to shoot something."
The boy's face went pale with fear for a moment, and he did not move, until Samuel turned his face towards him and spoke.
"I'm doing good to stand, son, but I can still shoot," he assured the boy as he tapped his trigger finger against the flat metal above the firing mechanism of his combat rifle. "Dig it out carefully, and if something down there gets loose, I'll drop it."
"If something bad is down there can't we just leave it alone?" asked Orion despite the fact that he moved forward and activated the force shovel as instructed.
"Slavers brought this thing to our doorstep, and instead of slagging it, Doc and the others left it up to us," answered Samuel, "If there's anything I've learned about the Gedra it's that they don't stay buried. Sooner or later someone will have to engage."
Orion swallowed, and then turned towards the crater. He stood silently for a moment before pointing the force hammer at the ground and squeezing the trigger. The tool was a smaller version of the device that had created the crater, a two-meter-long telescoping shaft that had two repulsors mounted on one end on either side of the wide shovel spade. Orion thrust it into the spongy soil and then heaved it up and out. As he did the repulsors lifted large amounts of soil and even a few large stones, the pattern of the energy field following the shape of the spade from which it emitted. Orion hurled the load aside and went back for a second, and then a third. Within a few minutes, he'd already moved enough dirt and rock to equal an hour or more of standard digging.
