Farthest Reach Page 7

  He could have rubbed salt in that wound, but Windham could see that this man was already on the brink of despair. All of the other parents in Avalon were likely feeling the same thing right now, and Charles Morrison needed to be strong for them. “We’ll find your children,” Windham said, “all of them. And I’ll bring you back the head of the man who orchestrated this crime.”

  The governor stared at him, a storm of fear swirling behind his eyes. “Thank you, sai. You give me hope.”

  Windham excused himself and headed toward the gateway that would take him back to his ship. He was tall and dark-haired and handsome in the prime of his life. At twenty-four years old and without the burden of a family to weigh him down, he was able to boldly make such a promise to this politician whose extended family had ruled Avalon since the colony was established about a century before. Windham knew that he would either deliver on his promise or die trying. But what of Gilead, the floating city that had been his family’s birthright for generations? Windham had no wife to love him in the cold darkness of space, and no heir to assume the throne once he closed his eyes forever. There had been women in his life, of course, but not love and not even a marriage to strengthen alliances. And now with his father’s body moldering in Gilead’s crypt along with the bodies of his ancestors, Windham felt alone in the universe. He could empathize with Charles Morrison, but he was incapable of understanding the man’s terrible fear.

  But he would know it soon enough.

  * * *

  Windham stepped through a portal in Avalon and emerged on the bridge of his starship. Gilead was enormous—built by the old United Planetary Federation back in 2599, she could accommodate fifteen thousand people on a sustained basis, and twenty thousand in a crisis situation. Her current complement, however, was only a little over seven thousand—men, women, and children.

  “Captain on deck,” said Grayson Ward, Windham’s first mate. He stood at attention in an ancient show of respect. Ward was an older man, as smart as a fox and tougher than a cheap steak. Windham had looked up to Ward since he was a kid, and he truly didn’t know how he would run this ship without the old man’s advice and assistance.

  “At ease.” Windham took his place on the carved ironwood throne. A digital map of the stars spread over the walls and ceiling of the room. The captain studied the twinkling lights for a moment as he searched the night for his quarry. The reavers were out there somewhere, and with them, hopefully, the lost children of Cheron-4.

  “I took the liberty of scanning for warp signatures,” Grayson said. “From what I can tell, the reavers came and went on a single ship and headed toward the Chibok system.”

  “Chibok?”

  “The black market of the galaxy. Aye, if those poor kids get split up, we’ll never find them all.” The first mate looked somber as he considered the possibility. His own son was only eighteen and just entering the service of his ship. Windham liked the lad, though it was hard to picture young Harrison taking over his father’s job someday.

  “It’s possible that they’re trying to throw us off their trail,” said the captain. “Maybe they’re heading toward Chibok and then diverting to some other port.”

  “Sir, with all due respect, while it’s possible, it’s not likely. Cheron-4 has been under Jericho’s protection for some time now, and I wouldn’t be surprised if those bastards knew about the reaver attack and just looked the other way.”

  Windham scowled. He felt a deep responsibility for the people of Avalon, even though they had turned their backs on Gilead. He figured that his sense of responsibility might get him killed someday, just like his father. But if death came today or years down the line, he would follow where his duty led him, and right now it was leading him to Chibok. “Scour the Net, see if you can find anything...”

  “I already have.” Ward grinned. “Captain Wyatt of the starship Saladin is hosting a slave auction tomorrow evening at Chibok Station. He’s been publicizing it all over the Dark Net. Unless this is some kind of trap, I believe we’ve found our missing children.”

  “Good work,” said the captain. “Cloak the ship and proceed to the Chibok system at maximum warp. We’re going to make sure those reavers never forget the name Gilead.”

  * * *

  They couldn’t simply storm onto Chibok Station with disruptors blazing and hope to free two hundred and seventy-six children. As much as Windham would have liked to kill every reaver responsible for this abomination, not to mention everyone who had traveled the stars in hopes of purchasing a slave, he knew that they needed a plan if they wanted any chance of returning those kids to their families.

  Gilead had been policing this barony for centuries, and had captured a number of smaller vessels that could be of use in a situation such as this. Windham had one starship in mind—a light cruiser called the Asuka was dry-docked in one of the great ship’s hangars. With a capacity of twenty-five, the Asuka was the perfect size to sneak up to Chibok Station and infiltrate the auction. Gilead, meanwhile, could remain cloaked until it was time to spring the trap.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Ward asked for probably the fiftieth time. The rest of the away team was already on board the Asuka and awaiting their captain so they could depart. Gilead had dropped out of warp some distance from Chibok, well out of the station’s sensor range, but the longer they waited here the more likely they were to get noticed.

  “I’m sure,” Windham said.

  “I doubt that Captain Gaines would put himself in the middle of the action like you’re about to do.”

  “Captain Gaines is a son of a bitch, and I’ll do what I think is right. In this situation, I’m going to lead the away mission while you stay here and command Gilead.”

  His first mate chuckled. “You sound more like Captain Tiberius.”

  Windham couldn’t help but smile. He had grown up on legends of William Tiberius and the adventures of the starship Jerusalem. Tiberius was well known for taking risks that always seemed to pay off in the end. “I hope I have a bit of the old boy’s luck on this mission.”

  “I can’t say that I’m thrilled, but there’s no use trying to argue with you once your mind is made up. You’re as stubborn as your father in that regard.”

  “You’re not the first person to tell me that.”

  “And likely not the last, either.”

  “How’s my disguise?” Windham touched the fake beard that was his only protection on this jaunt. The auction noticed made it clear that no weapons or armor were allowed on Chibok, which certainly meant that the crew of the Saladin would be armed to the teeth and everyone else would be totally vulnerable. Windham’s face was instantly recognizable in this region of space, but the beard was hopefully enough for him to hide in plain sight, at least for a little while.

  Hopefully.

  “Looks good on you. You should keep it.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Go get those kids, Windham, I’ll keep your seat warm.”

  “Good luck, Grayson.”

  They shook hands and then Windham boarded the Asuka. She launched from Gilead’s hangar and then immediately went to warp. Chibok was only a few hours away, and they were set to arrive just before the auction began. As Windham sat on the small ship’s bridge, he prayed that this desperate plan would work.

  * * *

  “Unknown vessel, identify yourself.”

  Windham didn’t recognize the face on the Asuka’s view screen, but he assumed that this was one of the Saladin’s crew. He was ornately groomed with a set of glorious mustaches.

  “I’m Captain Thawne of the starship Asuka.”

  “State your business.”

  “I’m here for the auction.”

  The reaver stroked his mustaches as he tapped a few commands on his computer console. “I’m transmitting the gateway code for the station. This code is unique, and once you’ve used it, it will change.”

  “How am I supposed to get off the station after the auc
tion?”

  “We’ll give ye another code, cully.”

  The gateways were a series of networked portals that enabled people to pass through tremendous distances as easily as stepping through a door. The passcode would give Windham access to the station, but it would also give Gilead’s tinkers an entry point into Chibok Station’s computer. If God was on their side, they could hijack the gateway network and have full access to the station.

  Windham’s computer dinged, indicating a new message had arrived. He checked the message and found an elaborate string of numbers and letters—the passcode.

  “The auction’s about to start. There be some pretty girls up for sale, let me tell ye. Better get on over there if ye want yer pick o’ the lot.”

  “On my way,” said Windham. “I can’t wait.”

  Men like this had been stealing the weak and vulnerable for thousands of years and forcing them into lives of slavery and prostitution. Even in the ages when mankind considered himself to be enlightened, he was never more than a recession away from devolving into a Neanderthal. Windham had read about many of the famed captains of the old Union who had dealt in this sort of trade on the side. Some modern scholars even said that Captain Tiberius himself had kept a comfort woman, but Windham refused to believe it. He wanted to see his heroes as heroes, not mere mortals who could fall prey to temptation just like everyone else. People would never change, no matter how far their technology advanced. The strong would always prey on the weak, and the weak would always need someone like Windham Manthus to come along and set them free. There would be blood shed tonight, and if Windham had his way, every single reaver on the Saladin would be dead before Gilead left this system.

  Another ding indicated a new incoming transmission. Windham pressed a button and Grayson Ward’s face appeared on the view screen.

  “We’ve got access. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  “Yes, sai,” said Windham. He smiled sardonically.

  * * *

  The portal hummed to life on the Asuka, revealing a garishly-colored room on the other side of the doorway. There were dozens of people on the other side—most dressed in civilian clothes and a few here and there in red battle armor. These were the crew of the Saladin. The auction announcement had stated emphatically that no one was allowed to bring any sort of weapon on board Chibok station, and it appeared that the Wyatt’s men were strictly enforcing this rule. There was a walkthrough scanner built into the Chibok side of the portal. If he tried to smuggle something on board the station, he would get caught and then get dead. So, armed with nothing but his cunning, Windham crossed the threshold, stepping from the bridge of the Asuka onto Chibok Station as easily as stepping from one room to another.

  An armored guard stood on the other side of the gateway with a disruptor aimed right at the portal. His red battle armor looked weathered, as if it had seen plenty of use. There was a white skull painted on the reaver’s breastplate, and he wore a helmet that hid his face behind a black visor.

  “You’re clear,” he said in an amplified voice after examining the captain’s scan.

  Windham nodded as he walked past the armed guard and into the den of thieves. Chibok Station was notorious through this region of known space, but the captain had never been here in all of his twenty-some years. The system was located in the neutral zone between Affiliation space and the outer baronies. If Windham was correct about the history, this station was originally built as an ore-processing facility back when the United Planetary Federation ruled the galaxy. After the Galactic Civil War toppled the Union, the station had been abandoned and the rats and pirates moved in. Everything was painted like a whorehouse on Saturday night; it hurt Windham’s eyes to look at it. He pressed through the crowd, trying to get as close as he could to the platform stage on the far side of the room.

  A gigantic man in red armor stepped to the center of the stage. He wore no helm, and his dark hair and beard flowed over his armor in the most ostentatious way possible. He had half a dozen braids in his long beard, and twice as many in his hair. He might have seemed like a dandy if not for his pirate armor. Windham recognized him at once as Braedon Wyatt, captain of the starship Saladin and the most notorious reaver in known space.

  “Gentlemen,” said Wyatt, “it is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I want to thank you profusely for attending this little shindig, it means ever so much to me and my crew.”

  The men in the crowd looked at each other uncomfortably, not sure if they should applaud or what. The tension in the room was thick, and Windham felt particularly vulnerable without his gear. The reavers had set up this situation in order to give themselves a distinct advantage. It was smart business for sure, but it made him uncomfortable as hell.

  “I know why you’re all here, you devils, so let’s get this auction under way, shall we?”

  Wyatt grinned wolfishly as two of his men dragged a terrified girl onto the stage. She was older than Windham had expected—could be anywhere from seventeen to twenty—but the terror on her face made her look younger. He supposed that she could still be called a child, Governor Morrison had done just that, but it seemed like a stretch. The reaver leaned in toward the girl’s ear and spoke softly, though his amplified voice was heard throughout the room.

  “Take it off.”

  “Please, no...”

  Wyatt brandished a taser at the girl—blue electricity flickered from the end of the weapon and the child began to whimper. “Take it off now.”

  The girl undressed in shame. She had long, brown hair with just a hint of wave to it, and her arms were brown from days spent working in the sun. She had a farmer’s tan, and was pale everywhere else.

  “Ain’t she a lovely specimen?” Wyatt asked the crowd of gathered men, men who had come to purchase the flesh of another living person. “I know most of you probably are here for the younger ones, and we have those in plenty, but there must be a few of you out there that would enjoy the pleasures of this pretty little thing. Am I wrong?”

  There crowd hooted and hollered like a bunch of horny men at a strip show. But this poor girl wasn’t shaking it for a few credits, she was trembling all over, trying to cover herself with her hands and her hair. It made Windham sick, and the only thing he wanted more than to kill everyone in this room was to cover the poor girl. She looked up, and for a moment their eyes met. She had no way of knowing that he was here to rescue her—she must have thought that he was just another monster leering at her and trying to decide if this was the one he wanted to bid on. The girl looked away, ashamed.

  “Let’s start the bidding at—”

  The crack of disruptor fire echoed in the distant corridors of the space station. Angry voices shouted unintelligibly. As the reaver captain paused, mid-sentence, Windham received a transmission in his earpiece.

  “We’ve engaged the enemy,” said Hollis Garner, one of Gilead’s most promising rangers.

  “It seems one of you wasn’t entirely honest about his intentions here,” said Wyatt. The reaver captain replaced the taser on his utility belt and drew a disruptor pistol in its place. He grabbed the naked farm girl around the waist and pulled her close, pressing the weapon to the side of her head.

  Windham tensed. There wasn’t much he could do without armor and weapons, but the sight of that terrified girl stabbed at his heart.

  “Boys,” said Wyatt, “I don’t have time to figure out which one of these bastards betrayed us, so kill them all and let the devil sort them out.” He inched toward the back of the stage, where a metal door led to who knew where.

  There was a moment of confusion before the shooting started—a single moment when Windham had a chance to run for the portal and the safety of the Asuka. No one would have blamed him if he ran, not in the face of certain death. Typical armor could protect a soldier from two or three disruptor blasts, but the captain’s civilian clothes offered no protection whatsoever. Any sane person would have fled, but not Windham. Call it madness or heroi
c idiocy, a Manthus never ran from danger—they confronted it head on and rushed in where angels feared to tread.

  A nearby guard, the same one who had cleared Windham when he boarded the station, was raising his disruptor rifle in the second before the room erupted into chaos. The captain had just enough time to grab the man’s wrist hard before the guard pulled the trigger. A superheated pulse of energy crackled across the room, catching an unarmed man square in the chest. He screamed as a burning hole appeared in the front of his shirt, but Windham felt no sympathy for a person who had come here to purchase a slave. As far as he was concerned, everyone in this room deserved to die.

  Everyone, except the girl.

  Windham had been trained as a Ranger of Gilead, an education that included multiple forms of hand fighting. The first lesson—the most important lesson—was to strike first and without mercy. He grapevined a foot around the guard’s leg as they struggled with the disruptor rifle. Off balance, the guard toppled forward to the metal floor and sprayed disruptor fire across the open room. He grunted when he hit the ground, just as Windham was expecting, and in that moment the captain seized the weapon and turned it on its owner.

  “Please don’t,” begged the guard, but Windham had no mercy for this slaver. He pressed the top of the rifle to the man’s chest and fired eight or ten blasts at point blank range. The guard’s armor likely absorbed the first two, but not the others. He died screaming.

  Windham dropped to the ground and used the dead guard’s body as a shield. Propping himself up on his elbows, he opened fire into the crowded room, aiming at the red-armored reavers but not caring too much when one of his shots took out a buyer. Between the captain and the reavers, most of the civilians were slaughtered within a minute.

  The captain pressed a button on his earpiece. “I need some rangers in here, STAT!”