In Earth's Service (Mapped Space Book 2) (16 page)

The same weather beaten face that had followed me
across Hadley’s Retreat looked up from the ATV’s hatch. “Kade,” Clawhand yelled,
“Down here.” He was holding a triple barreled scatter gun in his real hand, but
it wasn’t aimed at me. It was pointed low, ready to blast the first ripper that
showed its beady little face.

I hesitated, glancing back at the approaching alien
now walking toward me, certain this was one fight I wasn’t going to win, then
slid down the side of the bait trap to the ground. The humanoid power jumped to
the top of the cage, landing with a heavy metallic thud as I dived head first into
the open hatch past Clawhand, who pulled the armored door down behind me.

Inside, the Prairie Runner was all raw metal, roll
bars, gun racks and ammo lockers. A pair of padded bench seats ran down the middle,
back to back. I landed on the metal floor as a pretty young blonde in her early
twenties turned from the steering position up front and flashed me a broad smile.

“Hey mister! Glad you’re still alive.”

“So am I,” I said uncertainly, climbing onto the
bench seat.

“Last fella we tried rescuing,” she added, “was
dead by the time we got here!”

“That’s Emma,” Clawhand said. “My daughter. Ain’t
she pretty?” He nodded to her. “Let’s go honey!”

Emma turned and pushed the twin throttles halfway
up. The armored all terrain vehicle lurched forward with a roar, skidding on
the smooth rock as its tail spun out, crashing into the bait trap, then it straightened
as glowing boots appeared out of the sky ahead of us.

“What the hell …?” Emma said confused as the alien
landed in front of us.

“Go!” I yelled.

Emma glanced at her father uncertainly. “He’s not
one of ours.”

“Do as the man says, honey.”

She slammed the throttles to full, driving the ATV
straight into the large humanoid, bouncing him off the sloped frontal armor and
hurling him into the air. The Prairie Runner bounced off the rock flats into
the grass and picked up speed. Through the slit rear window, I saw him float to
the ground on his glowing boots, apparently unharmed.

Clawhand followed my gaze to the alien who stood
watching us race away. “Friend of yours?”

“I very much doubt it,” I said, wondering if the ATV’s
armor could survive a blast from the alien’s energy weapon. I waited, but he
didn’t fire. Either he judged the ATV too tough a target or he wanted me alive.

When the dust obscured the alien from sight, Clawhand
turned to me with an appraising look. “Let me get this straight. You been here
less than a day and already Metzler and his bully boys want you dead and you
got some big-ass alien after you as well. Son, you got a talent for making
enemies.”

I smiled. “It’s a gift.”

“If you’re looking for trouble, you’ve come to the
right place.”

“How’d you know I was here?”

“After you jumped off the Link, one of my boys saw
them grab you off the street. When they flew you south, we knew they were
dropping you at this old trap.”

“Good guess.”

“No guess. You’re not the first man they dumped out
here. Won’t be the last.”

“Why are you risking making an enemy of the
Governor by helping me?”

“I’m already his enemy and if that lying,
murdering dog wants you dead, I want you alive.”

“Why?”

“Because I want him off my planet – or dead,” he
looked thoughtful. “Preferably dead.”

Emma turned back and grinned. “Metzler feels the
same way about Daddy.”

“He wants me in that bait trap,” Clawhand said,
“but I’d rip open his guts and tear out his spine if he tried.” He flexed his
metallically brutal prosthetic meaningfully.

“What’d you do?”

“It’s not what I did, it’s who I am.” When the blank
look on my face told him I had no idea who he was, he added. “I used to be the
Governor. The name’s Quentin Tobias Hadley, direct descendant of old A.M. himself!”

* * * *

We drove through the Boneyard south east of Hadley’s Retreat as the sky
began to lighten, past bleached skeletons, wrecked vehicles and triangular
obelisks engraved with lettering I couldn’t read. Each time we passed one of
the memorials, Emma dimmed the ATV’s lights in respect.

“They got the names of everyone who didn’t make
it,” Hadley said when he saw me trying to read the inscription on one of the
stone monuments. “The locations mark where they were taken. Most of the bodies
were never recovered.”

Once we left the bones behind, we drove north
along the eastern side of Hadley’s Retreat as Hardfall’s sun began to peak
above the horizon. There were glimpses of buildings perched atop the cliffs and
of a few people out walking before breakfast, safely out of reach of the
dangers prowling the flatlands.

Soon, two cylindrical turrets standing like
sentinels in front of the cliffs came into view. They were armed with long
barreled autocannons placed to cover each other and destroy any creature
pursuing an incoming vehicle. Emma turned the ATV onto a well worn track between
the two guns and headed for a large rectangular door set into the cliffs. It
lifted up as we approached, revealing a long cavern filled with many vehicles.
They ranged from fast two seaters to crane equipped tow trucks all the way up
to massive ten wheeled transports. All were armored, most had portable weapon
mounts and a few – like Hadley’s ATV – were fitted with turreted cannons.

The cavern had once been a natural feature, but
the colonists had smoothed and expanded it, drilling a vertical elevator shaft
down from the top of the mesa. The armored door closed behind us as soon as we
were inside, showing that even with two robot guns guarding the entrance,
Hardfall’s colonists took no chances. Emma parked the Prairie Runner in a large
space close to the cavern door, then we took the elevator up to the mesa top.

Hadley’s house was the largest on the plateau. It
had been built more than a century ago, with a stately grandeur befitting the
colony’s founder and a view over the eastern cliffs toward the wreck of the
Dahlia
.
A rocky promontory, which doubled as a memorial lookout, hid the house from the
surface battery a few clicks south. When we arrived, Emma went to fix breakfast
while Hadley directed me to a chair in front of open concertina doors and
offered me a cigar from an ornate box.

“Hardfall’s own,” he said proudly.

When I declined, he lit one up and settled into a
nearby chair. He was a typical Faller, almost a head shorter than me with hard
muscle and thick bones engineered for the planet’s uncomfortable gravity. His
face was tanned, framed by white hair and apart from his robotic arm, he appeared
to be in excellent health.

He pulled on his cigar, then exhaled blue smoke
slowly. “We don’t get many traders here, Kade.”

“I’m not surprised. The Acheron’s a little close
for comfort.”

“It is and yet, here you are … and with Metzler in
a God awful hurry to see you dead. I’m wondering why?”

I wasn’t sure I could trust Hadley and I certainly
wasn’t about to share classified information with him, but he had rescued me
from the bait trap and the alien and that counted for something.

“Maybe I ask too many questions.”

“You seemed real interested in Loport and you got
here right when that smuggler ship landed. I’m guessing that’s no coincidence.”

“You know the Merak Star?”

“I’ve seen her before.” Hadley fixed a penetrating
gaze upon me, deciding how useful I might be. Eventually, he said, “Most of the
time Loport’s used by hydro farmers. They land their hilljumpers down there to
avoid Hiport’s fees. Then every few months, Metzler shuts it down. Sends in his
private army. Won’t let anyone near it, not ever the croppers. That’s when we
know we’re getting visitors.”

“Like now,” I said thoughtfully.

“Uh huh.” Hadley tapped ash from his cigar. “I
figured it was only a matter of time before someone like you showed up.”

“Like me?” I said, feigning innocence.

“Someone with an unhealthy curiosity in Metzler’s
side business,” he said, giving me a quizzical look.

I could have spun him a song and dance cover story
he wouldn’t have believed, but I wanted his trust and his help. “He’s got my
interest,” I conceded, telling Hadley nothing about myself and leaving him in
no doubt I was not what I appeared. A flicker of hope flashed across his face,
then I asked, “How’d Metzler get control of the colony?”

“He was appointed by the Union’s Colonial
Administration.”

“He could be an imposter.”

“I saw the commission myself. It was genuine.”

“His soldiers aren’t,” I said. “None of them are
URA.”

“Hmph! Figures,” Hadley said grimly. “What are you
planning to do about it?”

“Make him regret not killing me when he had the
chance.”

A crooked grin slowly appeared on Hadley’s face.
“How can I help?”

“Tell me what you know.”

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, then
said, “Three or four times a year, that old freighter sets down at Loport. Always
meets a dark, cylindrical ship. Nasty looking brute, bristling with guns – exactly
the kind of thing those surface batteries are supposed to destroy.”

“The Cyclops. I’ve seen her.”

“Sometimes the Merak Star is by herself, sometimes
she comes with other ships. Big haulers. All new, all exactly the same.”

“Armed?”

He shook his head. “No weapons that I could see,
but I’m no expert.”

“Unarmed ships don’t enter high threat space,” I
said doubtfully.

“These do. You want to see?”

“You have holos?”

“This isn’t Hades City!” he said indignantly. “Two-dee
only.” He touched a control sensor beside his chair, bringing a wall screen to
life above the mantelpiece. “I told you I’ve been waiting for someone to show
up. Took these just in case. Got a whole lot more if you’re interested.”

An image of a vessel painted in Pan Core Shipping
livery appeared. Pan Core was one of the giants of interstellar transport with
links to the Consortium, the largest white collar criminal organization in
Mapped Space. The ship looked like she was straight out of the builder’s yard,
spotlessly clean with a flawless paint job and lacking any kind of defense, even
shield emitters. No one in their right mind would send such a valuable prize in
this close to the Acheron unless they knew they had nothing to fear from the Drakes.

The ship reminded me of a Saracen class freighter,
only longer and thicker in places where she’d undergone structural
reinforcement – a strange modification for a noncombat ship. She had the same
four cargo doors each side, although her four maneuvering engines arranged in a
diamond formation were twice the size of those on a standard Saracen. The bigger
engines would have made her tactically faster and more maneuverable at the cost
of reduced cargo capacity and higher mass.

“When they land,” Hadley continued, “the crew goes
aboard the Merak Star while a new crew transfer over from the dark ship.”

If the
Merak Star
was Consortium owned,
then they weren’t just selling weapons to the Drakes, they were building ships
for them as well. It was a marked change for the Brotherhood, who used ships captured
in deep space or rescued from the scrap yard. They didn’t place orders, or they
never used to.

“I want copies,” I said.

“I was hoping you’d say that. I’ve been trying to
get these pictures out for two years, but Metzler’s got offworld comms sewn up
so tight, we can’t even send a weather report without his say so.”

“You must get traders in here.”

“Some, but they’re either gone in a day or end up the
same place you did.”

“I see,” I said, wondering how many Metzler had
killed to keep his operation a secret.

“This was a good place, once. Never had a need for
an offworld governor, not since old A.M. died, and he was one of us.”

“A.M.? That’s the second time you’ve mentioned
him.”

Hadley looked surprised as he realized I’d never
heard of his distinguished ancestor. “Andrew Mordechai Hadley, founder of
Hardfall Colony! If not for him getting everyone out of the Dahlia when he did,
they’d all of died right then and there. I won’t say this is our family’s
colony, but no one has a bigger stake in it than we do.”

“And being A.M.’s descendant, you have the respect
of the colonists, which is why Metzler wants you in jail.”

“It’s why he wants me dead! Only he can’t kill me
outright or he’d have half the colony up in arms. Yes sir! Metzler’s got to
find a way to get rid of me nice and legal like. Considering my wife is the
daughter of Hardfall’s Chief Justice,” Hadley smiled, “that isn’t going to be
easy.”

After a few hours with Quentin Tobias Hadley, I
knew he was neither a crook or a traitor, giving the Union no reason to replace
him. That made Metzler’s appointment a fix. Whatever was going on, the Drakes
wanted the colony nearest the Acheron under their thumb, although pulling
strings on Earth wasn’t a game the Brotherhood played. They’d leave that to the
Consortium, who had the wealth and the contacts to subvert entire planets.
Considering hardly anyone on Earth had even heard of Hardfall, bribing colonial
officials to get Metzler appointed would have been child’s play.

“Is there a way I can get a message to my ship?” I
asked.

“Not by communicator. Metzler has everything tapped.
One of my boys could take a message over for you.”

“Metzler’s men are watching my ship.”

Hadley smiled. “That won’t be a problem.”

* * * *

While we waited for his men
to return from the
Silver Lining
, Hadley and his daughter showed me
their home movies of hunting trips and expeditions through the crumbling remains
of a lost alien civilization.