Drifter's War Page 7

  Lando looked again. Now he saw that if he stood on the car's roof his shoulders would be level with the top of the fence. Close, but no cigar. He'd have to jump about five feet straight up in order to clear the fence and get over it as well. The smuggler looked at Della.

  "Nice try, but there's no way that I can jump that high, and even if I could, that would leave the rest of you here."

  Della ignored him and spoke to Melissa instead. She pointed through the fence. "Do you see the hi-loader parked over there?"

  Melissa looked, saw a bright orange piece of equipment, and nodded.

  "Good. Could you operate it?"

  Melissa's eyes lit up with excitement. "You bet! Daddy let me drive a flat-loader once… and I did very well."

  Cap looked away. Lando winced. Melissa's father let her do lots of things when he was drunk, or too hung over to handle them himself. Flying the tender was a good example.

  Della nodded understandingly. "All right then. Pik will throw you over. Watch your landing. It's a good eight- or nine-foot drop. That pile of cargo netting will cushion your fall."

  "I can handle it," Melissa said confidently. "I've done more."

  "No you haven't," Della replied sternly. "Not under anything like Earth-normal gravity. We're counting on you to land, start the hi-loader, and bring it over here. The whole plan goes down the tubes if you sprain an ankle. And once over, there's no way back."

  Melissa nodded solemnly. "I'll be careful."

  Della smiled and kissed the top of her head. "Atta girl. Okay, Pik. Climb up on the roof and get ready to boost Melissa over the top."

  Lando raised an eyebrow, looked at the top of the fence, then looked at Melissa. She smiled brightly.

  "I can do it, Pik, really I can."

  Lando gave a reluctant nod, aimed a "this had better work" look at Della, and climbed onto the front of the car. It was easy to reach the roof from there. The car's duraplast skin gave slightly under his feet.

  Della gave Melissa a hand. "Okay, hon. Up you go."

  Melissa scampered up to stand next to Lando. The smuggler looked around. No traffic in sight. Good. Two people standing on the roof of a car was unusual even in Blast Town. He bent over and put his hands around Melissa's waist. It was frighteningly small.

  "Here we go. Remember to bend your knees when you hit. Just like in free-fall. Roll if you have to."

  The little girl nodded.

  Lando lifted her over his head, gauged the distance, and gave a big push.

  Melissa made it over the fence, fell straight down, and hit the cargo netting with a soft thump. It gave and she fell.

  "Melissa! Are you all right?"

  Lando smiled at the obvious concern in Della's voice. So much for the tough bounty hunter act.

  Melissa stood and dusted herself off. "I'm fine, Della. Just lost my balance, that's all."

  Della looked relieved. "That's okay, hon. Hurry now… there's no telling what kind of alarms you may have triggered. Just because we can't see them doesn't mean they aren't there."

  Melissa nodded, jumped off the netting, and ran toward the hi-loader. Four rungs led up to the cab. She stood on the third one and tried the door. Nothing. It was locked.

  Della said something unladylike under her breath. She motioned for Melissa to return and pulled a small blaster from the top of her right boot.

  A hideout! Lando shook his head in amusement as the blaster sailed over the fence. Della never ceased to amaze him.

  "Use it on the door!"

  Melissa nodded her understanding, scooped up the blaster, and returned to the cab. Though far from an expert with hand weapons the little girl had been around them all of her life.

  Balancing on a metal rung, she aimed the weapon at the lock, and pressed the firing stud. Nothing. The safety! Gritting her teeth in frustration Melissa released the safety and tried again.

  Her efforts were rewarded this time. A pencil-thin beam of bright blue light popped into existence. Sheet metal melted and ran like red-orange water. The door popped open.

  Melissa slipped inside the cab, settled into the operator's chair, and thumbed the ignition switch. She grinned as the power plant came on-line and a row of idiot lights appeared in front of her. The "needs maintenance soon" light was on, but so what? Three minutes, five at most, and the task would be over.

  Melissa slid the gear shift into the "forward" position and stepped on the accelerator. The hi-loader jerked into motion.

  Cap heard a buzzing noise and looked over his left shoulder. The surveillance unit looked a lot like a flying tin can, except that this tin can was covered with a variety of sensors and boasted a rather large lens. The device had approached from the west and seemed completely unaware of Melissa's activities on the far side of the fence. It had witnessed Cap's pantomime of a break down and decided to investigate. The vid cam made a whirring noise as it zoomed in on the car's engine compartment.

  Sorenson forced a smile. His heart beat like a trip-hammer and he wanted a drink. There was no way to tell if a real-live human being was monitoring the camera or not. Cap decided that it was better to be safe than sorry.

  "Hi there. Glad you dropped by. Our car stalled." Sorenson pointed under the hood. "You know anything about cars?"

  The distant observer triggered a spotlight, directed the beam into the engine compartment, and guided the security cam forward.

  Cap smiled encouragingly. He couldn't believe his luck. The idiot was actually inspecting the engine! Now to see how long he could drag the whole thing out.

  Unfortunately Melissa chose that particular moment to lose control of the hi-loader and crashed into the metal mesh. There was a flash of white-blue light followed by a secondary crash as she dropped the crane arm across the top of the fence. Sirens howled in the distance.

  The security cam spun on its axis and tried to get away. Cap slammed the hood down on top of the device and trapped it inside the engine compartment.

  Della waved. "Lando! Cap! Come on!"

  Cap waved in acknowledgment, checked to make sure that the security cam couldn't escape, and ran for the fence. The car's duraplast hood cracked and dimpled as the surveillance unit tried to batter its way out.

  Cap scrambled onto the car's hood, slipped, caught his balance, and made his way to the roof. There was a brand-new crevasse where the crane arm had landed. It made a foot-wide orange bridge across the top of the now-flickering fence to where the others waited.

  Lando motioned with his arm. "Come on, Cap! There's nothing to it!"

  Cap nodded weakly, put a foot on the makeshift bridge, and took a step forward. Metal creaked as the fence gave slightly and Sorenson felt something heavy hit the bottom of his stomach. A drink, God how he needed a drink. Nausea bubbled up from somewhere deep inside and he felt overwhelmingly dizzy.

  "Come on, Daddy!"

  Melissa. Melissa was watching. Cap swallowed the nausea and forced the dizziness away. He'd do it for Melissa. Carefully, placing one foot in front of the other, Sorenson made his way across to the other side. Lando was there to grab his arm and help him to the ground.

  "Good going, Cap… you're looking good. Come on. Security's on the way."

  The sirens were louder now, much louder, and were coming from every direction at once. They ran in a tight little group, away from the fence and toward the center of the spaceport.

  Lando saw lights now, spotlights mounted on the undersides of air cars, coming from every point of the compass. There was no place to run. He stopped and the others did likewise.

  "You see anything?" Della's voice was calm but tense. She stood with one hand on her slug gun.

  Lando looked left and right. There was nothing but featureless duracrete as far as the eye could see. "Nope, not a damned thing."

  Melissa's voice was small and matter-of-fact. "How 'bout the drain?"

  Lando looked down at Melissa, then to the ground. And there, right under his feet, was a large circular grating. It was a storm drain desi
gned to handle the massive volumes of water generated during the spring rains.

  Lando jumped off the grating. "Nice going, Mel! You're a genius! Hey, Cap, give me a hand."

  The grating weighed well over a hundred pounds, but with both men pulling at once, it came slowly upward. When the opening was large enough they stopped.

  Lando braced himself. The sirens were even louder now and the lights were only seconds away. He tried to ignore them.

  "Della, you first. Melissa, you're next. That's it. Quickly now. Okay, Cap. It's your turn. Can you hold it open for me?"

  The older man gave a jerky nod, climbed into the hole, and balanced himself on a rung. Reaching upward, he accepted the grating's full weight.

  Suddenly it was as if the whole world were pressing down on him. The grate felt as if it weighed a ton. Sorenson felt his right arm start to tremble and bit his lip.

  When had it started? The mental-emotional slide that had left him here, a half man, trying to escape his own mistakes? At twenty? Thirty? Or had it been there all along? Like a flaw in poorly cast durasteel that caused it to crack when it was subjected to stress.

  The weight eased. Lando's voice was loud in his right ear. "Okay, Cap. Gently now."

  Ducking their heads the two men allowed the grating to move downward until it took over and fell the last five inches. It hit the metal surround with a loud clang. Then came the roar of an engine followed by a flood of white light. The light came down through the grate, rippled across Lando's face, and disappeared.

  Five long minutes passed while the air cars crisscrossed the area, their spotlights wobbling across the ground, searching for the intruders. But none of the searchers showed any interest in the storm drain, or any of the storm drains for that matter, and activity gradually died down. Della's voice came from the blackness below.

  "Come on, Pik. Let's go. The jobber won't wait forever."

  Lando dropped down to join the rest of the group. He could sense rather than see them. "Anyone got a light?"

  "How 'bout this?" A wand of blue light popped into existence. Melissa had retained the blaster that Della had thrown her. Adjusted to low power it made an effective though inefficient flashlight.

  "Good," Della said approvingly. "But be careful where you aim that thing. It's dangerous even on low power."

  So that's how they went, with Melissa leading the way, and a seemingly endless tunnel before them.

  Size was no problem, since the tunnel was at least twelve feet across, but mud was. It covered the bottom of the conduit and touched its sides. Though not wet, it was moist, and clung to their feet.

  Still clad in lightweight slip-ons Lando wished for boots and debated the merits of going barefoot. It was tempting because the shoes gathered the mud into huge clumps that made walking difficult, but there was always the chance of stepping on something sharp or jagged, so he kept them on.

  The storm drain had a swampy smell, not strong enough to be unpleasant, but a reminder of where they were. Other than the smell, and an occasional grating overhead, the tunnel was very monotonous.

  In fact the only feature of any interest whatsoever was a small pipe that hung suspended from the ceiling. Form frequently follows function, but this pipe looked like a pipe, and if it had some additional purpose gave no sign of what it was. Still, it was strange to see a pipe all by itself, since they're usually found in groups.

  The next hour passed slowly. Lift one foot, put it down. Lift the other foot, put it down. Swear at the mud and start all over again. It went on and on until Lando's mind went numb. Della's voice brought him back.

  "Watch out! There's something coming our way!"

  But "watch" was all they could do. The thing was incredibly fast. Lando caught a glimpse of it up ahead. It hung suspended from the overhead pipe and was really moving. Whatever it was it had a single red light embedded in its nose. The light rotated like a beacon. The walls shimmered scarlet. The device made a whining sound as it flashed over their heads and disappeared behind them.

  Melissa voiced the question on all of their minds. "What was that?"

  "Some sort of surveillance unit," Della guessed. "Although a poor one. How could it miss us?"

  "I don't think it did," Lando put in. "My guess is that it's programmed to detect and report structural problems and storm damage. We fell outside its areas of concern."

  "Maybe," Cap said, examining one mud-caked foot, "but I'm in favor of climbing out of here. The surveillance unit might have reported us and we've gone far enough besides."

  Della nodded, one half of her face dark, the other lit with a blue glow. "Cap's right. Let's take the next exit."

  They plodded along for another ten minutes before a vertical drain came along. Lando went first, with Cap close behind him. The smuggler looked up through the grating and saw the first glimmerings of daylight.

  He bent his knees, placed a shoulder under the metal covering, and pushed. Nothing. Lando swore, gathered his strength,

  and tried again. Something gave and the grating popped open. He felt Cap move up beside him to take some of the weight.

  "On three," the older man said, "and to hell with the noise. One… two… three!"

  They heaved in unison and the grating made a loud clang as it fell to the pavement. Lando was the first one out. His head swiveled right and left. Nothing. This particular grating was located right between a pair of large fuel tanks. Everything else was a long ways off. The chances of being seen were very slim.

  Lando and Cap replaced the grating so it wouldn't call attention to itself and followed Della toward the merchant ships. They were a full mile away. A dull rumble filled the air as a freighter lifted off the tarmac and moved toward a lift zone.

  Lando caught up with Della. "We look rather obvious out here."

  Della sighed. She knew that as well as he did. The problem was locating a suitable disguise. How do you turn a little girl into something else anyway?

  "Yes, we do. Don't tell me, let me guess. Your father had a saying for situations like this."

  Lando grinned. "Why yes he did. 'Instead of wandering around spaceports call a jitney.'"

  "Do what?"

  Lando pointed to a bright green com pedestal located right next to a bright red fire-fighting station. "Call a jitney."

  Della laughed. It was so obvious she'd missed it. The spaceport was so vast, and the distances between things so large, that a fleet of automated jitneys were required to ferry people around. She grabbed Lando's arm and gave him a peck on the cheek.

  "You're not so stupid after all. No wonder I keep you around."

  Lando smiled. "Hmmm. And I thought I kept you around."

  Della made the call and a beat-up jitney arrived ten minutes later. It consisted of little more than some seats, a platform, and a set of six wheels. Della tried a voice command, found that the machine's voice-recognition sub-processor was belly up, and tapped her request into the simple keyboard. It felt good to ride instead of walk.

  The jitney made a beeline for the merchant ships, passed row F where the tender still sat under the destroyer's scrutiny, and headed for row Y.

  Row Y was farthest from the terminal and therefore least expensive. Most of the ships in row Y were clapped-out tramp freighters, reentry-scarred tankers, and low-key private vessels.

  The ship parked in Slot 78 appeared worst than most. She was, or had been, a Lorney Lifter. Pretty good hulls more than two hundred years before but long outmoded. She reminded Lando of The Tinker's Damn, his first ship and part of a happier past.

  The jitney stopped and Della paid it off.

  "They oughta pay us to ride in that thing," Cap complained, but was careful to keep his voice low.

  "It does look a little beat," Lando admitted, "but you never know. In my old line of business it paid to understate the condition of your ship."

  The main hatch slid open before Della could palm the lock. An elderly woman stood framed in the opening. She was rail-thin, had a slightly
hooked nose, and thin critical lips. Her light blue pressure suit hung around her in folds.

  "Well, it's about time. The authorities want you bad. The price went up. Double what I told you. Take it or leave it."

  Della answered. "We'll take it."

  The woman put her hands on skinny hips. "Good. I want cash."

  Della shook her head. "We don't have cash. But we do have more than enough in credits. You can check. First Bank of Pylax."

  The woman gave a snort of derision. "What if they freeze your assets?"

  Lando stepped forward. He looked her in the eye. "Then you're shit out of luck."

  There was silence for a moment as the woman looked Lando up and down. An unexpected smile lit up her face. The hardness disappeared. "I like this one. He's got a nose just like mine. Where the hell were you when I was young? Let's lift."

  The lift-off took place without incident. After that it was a simple matter to clear the planet's gravity well and head for the vast asteroid belt that floated toward the edge of the system.

  Like all asteroid belts this one was a dangerous place to go. Over time the gravitational pull exerted by the system's larger planets caused asteroids to collide. The collisions created even more asteroids, and so forth, in an endless cycle.

  Still, the asteroids had valuable minerals to offer, so miners went in after them. Small companies mostly, but individuals too, hardy types who were willing to risk everything on the possibility of a really big find.

  This asteroid belt was unique in that the miners had established a system of twenty-seven "gates," or points of entry, where conditions were fairly stable and beacons had been placed. The beacons allowed the miners to orient themselves as they went into the belt, and more than that, helped them to navigate once they were inside.

  For years Cap had used business trips into the belt to search for his one-time liner Star of Empire, as though in finding her, he would find himself.

  And that's how they'd stumbled over the alien drifter, a find more valuable than the Star, but one that was difficult to cash in.

  It took four days to make the trip from Pylax to the belt, four days that, if not exactly pleasant, were made more bearable by their rather eccentric captain. She was a competent ship's master, a great cook, and one helluva storyteller.