Star Lawyers Omnibus : Main Series - Books 1-3, page 30
Tyler gave her a quick kiss. “Thank you.”
“That’s all I get?”
He sat again. “Look, we have an amazing relationship—”
“Is it time for the ‘fuck-buddy’ speech?”
“Babe, things take time, even for normal couples.”
“Haven’t you felt it? We have something.”
“Yes.” Tyler touched her arm, and the soft skin felt warm and real. But she wasn’t.
“And…?” she said.
“And I have never said those three words to anyone.”
“You think I have?” She rotated the pilot seat away from him.
“I… I just think we’re getting ahead of ourselves,” he stammered.
A single tear ran down her cheek. “I can access all the books in all the languages of humanity, and I don’t know what to say.”
“Suzie, please. I can’t bear to cause you pain.”
“Go find your cousin. Be safe.” She handed him a datacom pad. “Detailed notes about Adao-2 with suggestions about how to avoid the hunting parties.”
“Maybe when I come back—”
“Don’t promise anything you can’t deliver, Mister Matthews.” Her voice sounded distant, like a trumpet on the eve of battle.
He moved to kiss her, but she turned her face. Tyler repeated the promise to return safely, took one last look at his dream girl, and headed for the Sioux City on the boat dock.
Rosalie and J.B. waited on the scout ship’s cramped flight deck. J.B. took the starboard pilot’s console and kept the portside command chair vacant for Tyler. Rosalie settled into one of the jump seats behind them with Lucy purring in her lap.
“Who said you could bring the magic cat?” Tyler said.
“I’m not going anywhere without my little friend,” Rosalie said flatly.
Tyler looked to his older brother. “J.B.?”
He shrugged. “If things get ugly, I’m visualizing a Siberian Tiger.”
Yumiko-san entered the flight deck. This time she wore a white, single-weave judogi with a white sash, the traditional fighting uniform of Japanese jujitsu. The only difference was the sheathed, steel katana across her back. Tyler got the impression it wasn’t decorative.
“Investigator Matsuda,” he said with mock seriousness, “please get my permission before you lop any heads.”
She replied in Japanese and bowed. Rosalie blushed but did not translate. Yumiko took the jump seat across from Rosalie, collapsed the katana blade and scabbard inside its hand-grip, and tucked the weapon into a mesh bag secured to the bulkhead.
The planet Adao-2 dangled in the Sioux City’s viewscreens like a silver, blue, and white bauble beneath an orange star. J.B. designed an evasive pattern at maximum sublight velocity for when they reached the Adaon system, but the Sioux City only encountered one ship during inbound approach. A large, cumbersome vessel floated within the slender asteroid belt, 7.9 AUs beyond Adao-2.
“Probably a rare metals miner,” J.B. said.
“One mining barge in the outer system?” Tyler said. “Where the hell is the mighty Suryadivan Navy? Looks like siesta time in old Méjico.”
Rosalie checked her datacom pad. “Suzie’s notes indicate the Hunt is considered a worship service in progress. No traffic enters or leaves the Adaon system, not even government starcraft.”
“Okay, but Tyler has a point,” J.B. said. “Why no guard dogs prowling beyond the system to catch inbound trespassers?”
Rosalie shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Perhaps we have evaded them by good fortune,” Yumiko suggested.
“Let’s land this bird of fortune before our luck expires,” Tyler said.
“We’re ten minutes from descent,” J.B. said. “Rosalie, will you summarize Suzie’s notes about the planet, please?”
Rosalie pulled out her datapad. “Adao-2 orbits its orange dwarf an average distance of 0.82 AU, near the warm edge of the hab zone.”
“How large is she?” Tyler said.
“Slightly larger than Terra,” Rosalie said. “We should prepare for about one tenth heavier gravity. Globally, the terrain is characterized by lots of mini-continents and big islands separated by shallow seas. Two small, deep oceans.”
“Atmosphere?” J.B. said.
“Breathable, with benefits,” Rosalie said. “Major components—nitrogen, neon, slightly better oxygen than Earth, plus significant methane and trace gasses.”
“Notice all the neon?” J.B. said. “If a thunderstorm develops, we’ll see real fireworks.”
Rosalie read quietly for a few seconds, then continued. “Adao is a cooler star than ours, but the planet is closer than Earth is from the Sun,” Rosalie said. “Adao-2’s climate is tolerable for humans. A little warmer.”
“Only a little?” Tyler smirked. “No polar ice.”
She waved a finger. “Not always so. Suzie’s research says the planet’s orbit describes a profoundly asymmetrical ellipse. Long periods of cold, followed by eons of mild climate. Adao underwent an ice age two thousand years ago. Now an extended warm period.”
“These orange dwarfs have at least twice the lifespan of a yellow-white star like Sol,” J.B. said. “Life has a long time to evolve.”
“The really good news is extra O2,” Rosalie said. “We’ll have more stamina, which may offset the heavier gravity.”
“How much extra oxygen?” Tyler said.
“Only a few percent, and the atmospheric pressure is close to Terran, so we’ll be okay with O2 toxicity. Like a vacation at the Dead Sea, only with thick forests.”
“Thank God. I hate planets with high pressure, high oxygen,” Tyler said. “Drowning in breathable air really sucks.”
J.B. scratched his chin. “With all those ingredients and a long time to simmer, I wonder what evolution cooked up?”
Rosalie nodded. “Especially when shifting between ages of freezing and thawing.”
“I’m hoping for turtledoves and bunny rabbits.” Tyler tapped his command console. “Descending now. You might want to strap in.”
He entered coordinates for a steep entry without orbit, and the Sioux City dropped into the atmosphere on the night side of the planet. The scout ship cruised west-to-east, into the predawn light of Adao’s rising star.
When the orange sun illumined the surface, Tyler swooped low and continued eastward, skimming the terrain nap-of-the-earth to avoid ground-based detection sensors. He reduced airspeed to nine hundred kph to avoid sonic booms in the thick atmosphere and held this low-and-slow course across an endless sea of trees.
Twice, dry land ended and the Sioux City hopped narrow, shallow seas to landfall on increasingly larger island continents. When it became clear how smoothly Tyler’s hand kept the ship at low-level flight, Rosalie and Yumiko spontaneously undid their seat harnesses and went for tea, protein bars, and energy biscuits, which the Recon Team consumed with little talking.
As early morning became full daylight, blue mists drew them onward, over shallow waters and land masses dominated by tree-lined, U-shaped valleys. Occasionally, Tyler dropped the scout ship so low that her belly brushed the treetops. He smiled. Suzie would have bitched me out.
The landing site lay deep in the mountains of the third largest continent. Ninety minutes after crossing a wide, narrow bay, the course indicator displayed Julieta’s coordinates fifty kilometers ahead. Tyler slowed to two hundred kph, and Rosalie continued her summary from Suzie’s briefing book.
“Low mountains, terminal moraines of continental glaciers, like the Appalachians,” she said. “Julieta will be halfway up the north slope, above a small valley with a lake and a complex of temples.”
“I have it on visual.” Tyler banked the ship into a low, slow turn. He noticed the color of the treetops for the first time—dark green, darker red, and darkest blue. Nature had adjusted its wardrobe to absorb life energy from the anemic star. “Don’t want to park too close to the rendezvous point. We’ll set down on the south side, hike over the top.”
“Works for me,” J.B. said. “Rosalie, would you and Yumiko throw some backpacks together with survival gear while we park the ship?”
“Hai!” Yumiko said. “And Tyler-san, please use datapad settings only. No apps for scanners or communications devices. Too easy to track. We must be sensor invisible.”
Tyler nodded. “Good idea.”
“Weapons?” Rosalie said. “We have high-impact blast pikes."
“Too much firepower. Worse than not enough,” Yumiko said, “Two kinetic sidearms each. No EM signature.”
J.B. nodded. “Fully charged.”
Yumiko and Rosalie scurried to the task.
Tyler found a tiny meadow on the southern shoulder of the mountain and hovered laterally as deep into the trees as the vegetation allowed. Once the engines cooled, J.B. deployed a set of navy blue parachutes normally designed to slow the scout ship during an emergency landing. With no rushing air to fill them, the big cups collapsed over the aft section and spilled into the meadow. A little manual adjustment by the crew converted the shrunken air sacks into first-class camouflage. They staked the far edges to the grass carpet and tossed blue-black branches here and there to disrupt the Sioux City’s profile and shrink her sensor footprint.
“Turn out the lights?” J.B. said.
Tyler nodded. “Dark as a black cat’s rectum at midnight. No offense, Lucy.”
Once the crew absorbed prophylactic antibodies from the Sioux City’s bio-protective scan—an upgrade installed by Chief León—Tyler shut down main power. Now the ship was safe from discovery by most infrared and electro-magnetic scans. Satisfied their little ship was well hidden, Tyler gathered the Recon Team at the edge of the meadow. Everyone had donned mottled green-and-brown jump suits and carried backpacks crammed with food and survival gear. J.B. slipped Adelaide’s locket and chain around his neck.
Tyler did not want to spend the night in these forests. Wild beasts prowled here, or why call it the Hunt? But he felt better knowing they were prepared for the possibility.
He chop-pointed upslope to the ridge. “Julieta’s coordinates are 8.3 kilometers from here. North side of the mountain. Allowing for the terrain and heavier gravity, we’re looking at three hours on foot.”
Lucy curled around Rosalie’s feet, meowing.
“You might want to launch the cat.” J.B. suggested as he tucked the dangling locket under the neckline of his mottled jumpsuit.
Rosalie spoke a word to Lulu-Lucy, and the shape-shifter morphed into a hawk. But when she spread her short wings and attempted to liftoff, she gave up quickly and settled to the grass. Lucy flapped around on the ground briefly, extended the wings, and changed into a golden eagle. Its powerful avian muscles and wider wingspan made the higher gravity take-off look easy.
Tyler worried briefly about local flying predators who might decide this newcomer was a tasty lunch. That would break Rosalie’s heart. But on Terra, a golden eagle was an apex predator in the air. With powerful talons and a beak like a meat hook, she was no turtledove. Besides, Tyler welcomed Lucy’s aerial surveillance. If danger lurked ahead, this airborne sentinel would find some way to warn the Family.
Yumiko unfurled her katana blade and slipped it crosswise through the straps of her backpack. Tyler watched her tighten the pack straps to secure the sheathed weapon. “Officer Matsuda, why are you packing a blade? Blasters work better.”
“Suryadivans on Hunt carry long knives,” Yumiko said.
Tyler held up his sidearm. “One hit stops all.”
“So, desu. Also steel.”
“Let’s try to avoid the hostiles,” J.B. suggested.
“What are the rules of engagement?” Rosalie looked at the blast pistol and shook her head.
“Fire-for-fire,” Tyler said. “Engage if attacked, but only to defend.”
“And only max-stun.” J.B. raised an eyebrow at Yumiko.
She nodded. “Your heart, very Buddhist, J.B.-san.”
“Final check, everyone.” Tyler inspected the team members’ gear.
Rosalie held up her blaster. “Is this set right?”
Yumiko nodded, adding something in Japanese. Rosalie responded in kind and holstered the weapon. Tyler couldn’t help thinking how odd his young sister looked, strapping on a pair of blasters like an Old West gunfighter. Rosalie, lithe yet sensitive, had begun to show signs of hidden strength. Even so, he hoped she didn’t need to draw weapons on this trip.
“Okay, let’s find Julieta and Lox Aspi.” Tyler took the lead. “Diamond formation. Stay in visual contact. Just like they taught us at Navy Prep.”
J.B. frowned. “I hated Navy Prep.”
Rosalie adjusted her backpack straps. “I’m glad Daddy made it optional for Matthews women.”
“The last gasp of institutional sexism,” Tyler grumbled.
His sister laughed.
They entered the trees and started uphill. Tyler walked point, and Yumiko dropped significantly behind to guard against attack from the rear. A cool breeze swept up from the valley floor, penetrated the forest to stir the dark treetops, but did not last. Morning blazed into noonday heat when the orange sun rolled higher in the sky. Now the valley gusts blew hot as a desert wind.
Tyler adjusted the thermal controls of their jumpsuits. Avoiding direct sunlight was a chore. They skirted the occasional meadow and stayed under trees whenever possible, but they had to climb over fallen timber and wade through dense underbrush to pick their way upslope.
On the plus side, circumventing open ground made their presence harder to detect by the pilgrim groups who foraged the hills for game to kill and feast upon in campfire rituals after sunset.
All hunting parties were led by warrior-clergy. All Suryadivan hunters carried weapons.
Tyler parted overlapping fern leaves and broke into a small clearing. A dark blue chimney in the canopy roof exposed forest floor to a shaft of light and revealed a pair of dog-sized, dark red insects with legs like a centipede, sunning themselves on a large rock beside a knee-high, spiked pillar. Not a natural formation but metallic and intentionally placed near the boulder to hide its location from most angles of approach.
Obviously disturbed by the two-legged intruders, the giant bugs slunk into the safety of the underbrush. In case the creepy-crawlers returned with hive mates, Tyler pulled his weapon and dialed up from full stun to kinetic kill.
“Let’s keep moving.” He avoided both rock and pillar, left the little clearing, and resumed their zig-zag course up the forested mountain.
Even though the jumpsuit auto-cooled his torso, Tyler perspired heavily from the uphill struggle against Adao’s higher gravity. Occasionally, he caught movement among the branches above. Canopy-dwelling critters, bouncing along arboreal corridors to track the humanoids trespassing upon their forest floor? He hoped their interest was inquisitive rather than gastronomical. Suzie’s briefing book indicated several large species that might threaten humans and a menagerie of fanged bantams who ate anything which fell into their claws, alive or dead.
Unfortunately, the organic chemistry of Homo sapiens was compatible with the digestive systems of Adao’s predators. Not that chemical incompatibility was a mitigating factor. Alien life forms that couldn’t digest you might choke on your carcass, but to get the last laugh by spoiling its lunch was a lousy consolation prize after you’re dead.
The Recon Team encountered more spiked, short pillars in small clearings, and skirting the larger breaks sometimes afforded a backward glimpse toward the lower slopes where they parked the Sioux City. Looking downslope, Tyler realized the forest ceiling was lower than he’d estimated while under the trees. Higher gravity and a distant sun—no wonder the vegetation was darker and denser. Clouds billowed in the northwestern sky, but he had no idea what direction weather systems moved at this latitude. Could be east to south for all he knew.
After two hours, they reached the ridgeline and peered into the north valley from a stand of stubby, dark blue trees. A long, narrow lake with four spiked pyramidal temples dominated the valley floor. Even from this distance—perhaps two kilometers—Tyler distinguish groups of people crossing bridges that connected the ceremonial centers.
Nobody on the Recon Team objected when he called a halt and ordered everyone to rest, rehydrate, and eat some field rations. They kept inside the tree line to let the deep shade provide cover and shield them from afternoon heat.
Crunchy protein bar in hand, J.B. sat on a log and Yumiko squatted by his side. Rosalie had other needs. Bouncing from foot to foot, she begged Tyler for privacy to heed nature’s call.
“Yumiko can go with you.”
“No!” Rosalie said. “Don’t embarrass me, Ty.”
“Okay, okay. Stay close.”
She wiggled her nose. “You don’t want me too close.”
“Good point. Just be careful.”
Tyler walked a few paces away from Yumiko and J.B. and sat on soft grass with his back to a thick trunk. Despite his intentions to stand guard while the others rested, he awoke abruptly after hitting the ground. With no idea how long he slept, Tyler wiped twigs from his lips and squinted upward into the bright sky above the low trees. His wristband indicated two hours and forty-five minutes since they left the Sioux City tucked into the woods on the opposite side of the mountain. A large bird circled high overhead. He hoped it was Lucy.
Suddenly, the winged creature swooped low and disappeared into the tree line. Tyler moseyed back to the clearing to ask J.B. if he had seen the bird vanish, but his brother no longer rested on the log. What really troubled him was that Yumiko was also gone. Perhaps J.B. dropped something along the trail, and Yumiko went along for an extra pair of eyes. Tyler drew his blaster and retraced their route up the mountain.
He was about fifty meters into the forest when he found another clearing. He didn’t remember the opening and wondered if he’d strayed off course. In the center of the clearing he found ash and stones from an old campfire, further convincing him this was the wrong path. He turned to retrace his steps when a stun bolt slammed him to the dirt. Dazed but conscious, he raised his sidearm, but a human in a black robe kicked the weapon from Tyler’s grasp.
