Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
The doctor’s limp body dropped to the floor. He hadn’t killed her, didn’t have orders to do so yet, but he didn’t have time to check her vitals to see if the two stuns and falls had done any permanent damage.
Carver had bigger things to worry about.
Somehow, with only one shot, that motherfucker had disabled key systems. He shouldn’t have even been able to punch through his shields, but his ship didn’t seem to know that. He shouldn’t have been able to fire his bio-coded weapon at all.
The cruiser whined in distress, as shrill as the doctor’s screams had been moments ago. The ship lurched, something wrong with the altitude controls. It wouldn’t allow him to ascend any higher than what they already flew. The terrain tipped at an angle as he tried to level out the ship.
The outpost lay in a smoldering mess of metal composite and broken computer terminals. Greenery and transparent aluminum stuck out at odd angles where the greenhouse once stood, the plants now exposed to the elements.
He couldn’t see the Calypson fucker anymore. If he’d somehow eluded an entire barrage of weapons, then this planet—hell, the entire system—was in serious shit.
Carver’s scans showed heat patches where the building burned, but besides the smoldering innards, nothing else moved. He didn’t trust the scans. He’d shot the guy in the head, and he’d somehow survived.
For good measure, Carver cracked off a few more shots, leveling any area that stood higher than a meter. Then he waited again.
While he continued to scan, Carver ran diagnostics, trying to figure out what the fucker hit to unbalance his ship. A readout scrolled across his PALM and helmet’s interface, each detail worse than the last. But the last item on the list was the most tragic. The ship was no longer space-worthy.
“Fuck!” He smashed his hand on the controls.
There was no way he could fix all the issues on his own, not when the clock on his orders kept on ticking. And he couldn’t wait for help with that storm about to blanket this entire region for days.
His eyes jumped to the tether in the distance. The clouds and snow almost obscured it completely, but it was there, connecting the research community to the orbiting station. Unless another ship materialized in the next minute, it might be their only option to get off world.
He returned his attention to the destroyed building, scanning and waiting. When nothing moved but flames, he tapped the controls, and accelerated away from the destroyed outpost, heading straight toward the tether.
The sun disappeared the farther they traveled from the wreckage.
The wind picked up, battering against the hull of the ship.
Then the snow started. It coated the ground in a layer of white, hiding the ice that had formed across its barren surface.
Nothing during his time here had changed his views on this waste of a rock.
Would the terabytes of data he’d downloaded for this mission tell him what was really going on here?
His superiors hadn’t told him he would encounter a hostile.
Maybe they hadn’t known, but instead of giving him a heads-up on their suspicions, they’d thrown him headfirst into something that could have ended him.
Agitation skittered across his skin. He didn’t like being jerked around.
Kilometers disappeared as they neared the research station.
Lights glowed, speckling the landscape in tiny life-saving beacons—something to aim for in this cloud-drenched world.
Then buildings dotted the horizon, squat and on stilts like the doctor’s outpost. The tether solidified, a straight line dividing the snowy sky in two.
He glanced over at the doctor and noted she hadn’t budged. Good. She’d regained consciousness too quickly after being stunned the first time.
Focusing forward, he circled the outer buildings. The research station itself spread in a massive compound to the north of the port with interconnected labs, housing quarters, and greenhouses—larger versions of the doctor’s single outpost. Heat signatures dotted the inside of the buildings.
He aimed the cruiser at the tether port and landed in an open space beside it.
Thunk. He hit the ground a little too hard, his descent ruined by the cruiser’s malfunctioning systems. He powered down, locking key systems as he did so.
The viewer deactivated, revealing the strip of transparent aluminum that served as a window.
Snow splattered against it, distorting his view of the tether.
Carver pushed out of his seat, stepped over the doctor, and headed to his bedroom at the back of his ship.
The door slid open, revealing his pristine space.
Before he could dwell on leaving everything behind, he opened the first tall compartment with a swipe of his PALM and grabbed a hard-sided case, his go-bag.
The door closed behind him, and he approached the doctor. Her chest rose and fell in even breaths. He squatted down, giving her body a quick scan. Vitals appeared on his visor. She was a little battered, but alive, and that was all that mattered at the moment.
He scooped one arm under her legs, the other under her back and stood, hefting her over his right shoulder.
A step toward the door, and he slapped the controls with his PALM.
Wind slammed into them as soon as the door opened.
One slice of sunlight lit up a portion of the landscape in the distance, but disappeared in the next gust of snow.
Keeping the doctor balanced on his shoulder, Carver jumped down to the icy ground. He touched his PALM, sealing the door tight, then modified the security measures to the highest possible settings. He hated to abandon his ship, but it would be here when he was done with this assignment.
Carver turned, adjusted his footing, and set off toward the tether port’s entrance. He kept his free hand next to his weapon as he neared the hexagonal building. A passageway connected it to the research station on the opposite side.
A red light flashed above the double-wide door, and realization dawned. “Motherfucker.” The tether cabin was at the top, parked at the orbital station, and he needed to recall it before they could leave.
More wasted time.
The minutes were ticking down on his deadline, and every second mattered when his life was at stake.
The sound of his footsteps changed as he stepped onto the platform that spanned the port’s doors. Keeping the doctor over his shoulder, he pressed his PALM against the control panel and overrode the system.
It took a minute, but the doors released with a hiss, opening up into a decontamination zone. Transparent inner doors revealed a narrow corridor that encircled the space where the tether vehicle would settle when it arrived.
He strode inside. The doctor twitched, then groaned.
Carver hefted her weight forward, setting her on her feet against the wall by the control panel.
Her knees buckled, and he pressed a hand against her sternum to keep her upright.
She slumped forward, her body weight pressed into him, her head lolling to the side.
When he was sure she wouldn’t fall down, he touched the control to recall the tether cabin. The port hummed, and numbers appeared on the panel, counting down the minutes until the tether would make it to Earth.
The doctor jolted, then straightened, her head moving back and forth. Her hand shot out to brace against the wall. She remained that way, frozen, then turned toward him.
Her gaze landed on him through the visor of her helmet.
He’d thought her eyes sad when he’d first seen her profile image in his files.
Now they burned, hot emotion aimed right at him.
Her chest rose and fell in quick breaths.
Her gloved hands clenched and released. They stood that way, the control panel counting down in his peripheral vision, until his visor beeped with a contact.
Someone approached the research station. He turned to face the outside world. No, more than one—something from the east and something from the west. He looked toward the west, where they’d come from, and gritted his teeth. A vehicle approached at a slow pace. A hovercart.
“Son of a bitch.” It was the same hovercart that had been parked in front of the doctor’s outpost.
He dropped his go-bag beside the doctor, knelt, and unlocked it with his bio-signature. The largest of his guns lay on top, and he yanked it out, checked the settings, then shut the case with a loud snap.
“Move and I’ll shoot you,” he said before standing and striding through the open door.
He stepped out into the blowing snow. The intensity had increased since they’d arrived. Wind slapped against his body, so fierce he swayed with it. A thick coating covered his cruiser on the right, and he couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond that.
But his visor kept sending data, able to scan more than he could. The target to the west—no, it was two targets—advanced at almost the same pace as the hovercart.
His sensors also told him the doctor hadn’t listened to his last order. He turned and fired a warning shot. Pop. It connected to the platform in front of her feet, melting the metal composite in a circle. She’d been reaching for his go-bag, but his warning shot froze her movements.
“The next one will take your head off.”
It would really piss him off if she didn’t listen. This day was going from bad to worse, and taking the time to alter all his recordings to justify her death would delay his schedule.
Snow obscured the hovercart, but it slowed as it neared. The other two targets kept their speed, while the fucker stopped the cart just out of sight. He hopped out, well and whole.
“Unfucking believable,” Carver muttered.