Ganymede plague, p.1

Ganymede Plague, page 1

 part  #5 of  The Empire's Rogues Series

 

Ganymede Plague
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Ganymede Plague


  Ganymede Plague

  A Space Opera Adventure Story

  Richard Parry

  Contents

  The story so far…

  Waking the Dead

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  About the Author

  Also by Richard Parry

  Glossary

  EXCERPT: DRAGON’S RESCUE

  Almost Free

  GANYMEDE PLAGUE copyright © 2019 Richard Parry.

  Cover design copyright © 2019 Mondegreen.

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13 ebook: 978-0-473-46901-6

  First edition.

  No parts of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form without permission. Piracy, much as it sounds like a cool thing done at sea with a lot of, “Me hearties!” commentary, is a dick move. It gives nothing back to the people who made this book, so don’t do it. Support original works: purchase only authorized editions.

  While we’re here, what you’re holding is a work of fiction created by a professional liar. It is not done in an edgy documentary style with recovered footage. Pretty much everything in here was made up by the author so you could enjoy a story about the world being saved through action scenes and clever dialog. No people were used as templates, serial numbers filed off for anonymity: let’s be honest, October Kohl couldn’t be based on anyone real. Any resemblance to humans you know (alive) or have known (dead) is coincidental.

  Want updates from Richard Parry? Sign-up and get a welcome bundle at https://www.mondegreen.co/get-on-the-list/.

  Find out more about Richard Parry at mondegreen.co

  Published by Mondegreen, New Zealand.

  For Felix, who helped despite the rest of life wanting a piece.

  The story so far…

  Yesterday saw Nate and Dom salvage illegal cargo from the fallen Empire Navy ship Cataphract. The pirate lord Pearl stole their booty.

  Nate’s best friend Valerie worked out the salvage contained a virus meant to destroy entire planets. Bad news in itself, she only worked this out after opening the case. Val’s slept better, it’s true.

  It’s possible she’s not infected. It’s also possible rainbows have a pot of gold at the end.

  A new day dawns…

  Waking the Dead

  It was difficult to know the precise moment everything went to hell. Nate figured it was when he and Dom sat opposite each other in the Triage Tearoom. The owner, Vera, pretended not to know they were planning a heist. They in turn pretended her beer was excellent. Dom paid with good Empire coin, so they were square.

  They sat without Valerie Flare, on account of Val locking herself in the room upstairs she shared with Nate. It meant he had no bed, and no privacy, as he turned the Triage Tearoom into an office with ears. Vera’s glowers kept the worst vermin from their table, but it wasn’t a peace destined to last. Even her muscled bulk, hidden beneath her trademark apron, wouldn’t keep dedicated gangsters at bay.

  A scream from outside drew Nate’s attention. He squinted at the bright light streaming in the doorway, the door itself a wreckage from Pearl’s thugs and their indelicate handling of the previous day’s … situation. Screams weren’t too unusual since the Cataphract crashed and blew her reactor. Still, a scream here wasn’t expected, and it made Nate curious. The single scream turned into a couple, then a handful, and by the time more than ten voices joined in the ruckus Nate found his feet, thinking, Everything’s about to go to hell.

  Through the doorway burst Old Parker. The man’s eyes were wild like a crazed stallion’s. Parker’s mouth was agape, a desperate keening coming from deep in his chest. His normally combed hair was a wild white shock atop his head, and his eyes were bloodshot.

  Parker, prior to today’s transformation into a crazed lunatic, was a sometime friend of Nate’s, because Nate arranged for his son to be shipped out of Cadence Starport back a spell. Parker’s boy was light on intellect and heavy on rash action, leading to all manner of inquisitive interest in his comings and goings from the Ganymede Guard and pirate syndicates alike. The berth hadn’t been cheap, but Parker paid with good Empire coin. Since then, Parker stood firm against those who called Nate a lying thief, counted him a friend, and often lent Nate money when he found his reserves running low.

  This history gave Nate a due level of surprise at Old Parker’s entrance. For a man many summers past Nate’s anticipated life expectancy, he moved with vigor, leaping on Big Kent by the door. Big Kent worked for Pearl sometimes, but not today, because Kent had been drinking. Drinking didn’t slow him much, because he wasn’t fast to begin with. Kent was strong, like a cargo loader, and not many people took a swing at a fellow two meters tall with hair all over their body. Nate likened Big Kent to apes he’d seen in holos, except without their manners. Old Parker leaping on Big Kent was the kind of situation that demanded investigation.

  Big Kent spilled his beer as Parker clawed at his face. “Get off me, you crazy old coot!” For emphasis, he tossed Parker aside, the old man landing on the floor.

  Parker bounced to his feet like he trained with gymnasts, eyes rolling, looking for targets. They settled on Vera. This isn’t going to end well. Before his brain could corral his actions, Nate moved, heading toward Old Parker. He grabbed Parker from behind in a bear hug. “Settle, Parker. Settle!” Nate figured on asking Parker what was going on but missed his chance on account of taking one of the man’s elbows in the face. Nate sprawled to the floor, falling onto Big Kent’s spilled beer.

  Dom was only a few steps behind Nate. He reached Old Parker, taking a swing. It was a good swing, no clumsy haymaker but rather a straight jab. His fist connected, and Dom followed up with a gut punch, then an uppercut. All three strikes seemed full of emphasis, but Old Parker didn’t even blink, despite blood gushing from his nose. He gave a blood-chilling howl like a dog, then tackled Dom to the floor.

  Get up, Chevell. Nate got to a knee, then slipped on beer, going down a second time. Dom had his hands up to protect his face as Old Parker clawed for his eyes. Nate got to his feet, then stumbled as his legs tangled with his sword. He bounced off Kent, the big man appearing to take no notice as he lumbered toward Parker. Nate collided with the counter next to Vera, knocking his head on the old faux wood.

  Kent hauled Parker from Dom, hammering him with meaty fists. It didn’t have the perfect, practiced motions of Dom’s strikes, but Kent made up for technique with his work ethic. He laid into Parker like the old man was a heavy bag, slamming in head and gut punches with enthusiasm and gusto.

  Parker took at least ten hits before stumbling back. Ten hits. Old Parker took ten hits from Big Kent. You couldn’t take two.

  Nate might not be able to take one.

  Old Parker fell back against a bench, stumbling. Vera came out from behind the counter, looking like she meant to take issue with someone starting a ruckus. Parker grabbed the bench, hauling it around in an arc. Big Kent ducked back, but Vera walked right into it, taking a heavy hit on the chin. She collapsed into the beer spill on the floor.

  Parker lunged for her, but Kent grabbed him again. The giant tossed his opponent away, but Parker wasn’t done. He roared, running for Kent. Big Kent took the charge, lifting Old Parker into the air and tossing him like a toy into a back body drop. Nate, recovering from his head-on with the counter, winced as Old Parker’s body hit the floor with a crunch.

  Hell. He’s still going. Parker clambered to his feet, bringing a broken piece of Kent’s beer bottle with him. He swung, slicing Big Kent’s gut. Blood sprayed, Old Parker howling glee. Parker turned, eyed the unconscious Vera, and readied his makeshift knife.

  Old Parker might be a sometime friend, but the man’s ill. Nate clambered up, drawing street steel. “Parker, drop the weapon.”

  Parker leered, running for Nate. Nate tried for a disarm but slipped on spilled beer. His sword point dropped as he stumbled. Parker didn’t slow his charge, running himself through on Nate’s sword. Old Parker’s eyes widened, the bottle tumbling from his hand, before he slid from Nate’s sword to the ground.

  Nate looked at his sword, then stared at the wreckage of the Triage Tearoom. Big Kent sat, clutching his belly. Dom stood upright, but unsteady, one eye already swelling shut, his face a haven for scratches. Vera was out, and Old Parker was dead by Nate’s hand. Blood dripped from Nate’s sword. I didn’t mean to kill him. The words didn’t come out, because he’d bared his blade, and things got ugly when weapons saw the light.

  Dom approached. “You okay, Nate?”

  “I just killed a friend.” Nate crouched by Old Parker. “I’ve known this man forever. He’s kind and gentle.”

  “He’s crazy,” croaked Big Kent.

  “He’s sick, is what he is.” Dom knelt beside Nate, touching Old Parker’s hair. It came away in his hands. “This look familiar to you?”

  Nate thought about the coffin and the bald kid inside. “It does, and not in a good way.”

  Dom stood, Nate following suit. Dom sighed. “I figure this is like the Cataphract. In a few hours, or days, people will go missing. They’ll be stacked near the infected.”

  “Right,” agreed Nate. Valerie was right by the coffin when it opened. “I’m done killing my friends.”

  “I understand.” Dom peered out the doorway. “The Ganymede Guard will be here soon.”

  “They will. We have a pirate treasure to rob, and the Guard won’t help with that.” Nate gave a quick glance toward the stairs at t
he back. Atop those stairs Valerie Flare waited, and if sickness brought madness, they had to hurry. No telling what would happen if Cadence Dome got the plague.

  Chapter One

  “This isn’t a good idea.” Dom jogged at Nate’s elbow. They jostled through crowds of Ganymede merchants. Some might call them pirates. Nate could feel the tension in the air, a hum on his skin like the feeling right before lightning struck.

  People were afraid.

  Nate shook himself. Focus. You know these streets better than most. Fear isn’t a plague. It’s a knife in the back or treachery in the dark. He kept his pace up. “Pearl’s got the coffin with the kid. We need to get an antidote.”

  “There’s no antidote in the coffin.”

  Nate gave his friend a little side eye. “How can you be sure?”

  Dom ducked around a cargo loader. “You don’t put antidotes with the poison.”

  “Plague.”

  “Or plague.” Dom grabbed Nate’s arm, hauling him to a stop. “Pearl won’t help us.”

  “Yes, he will. Do you know why?”

  “It’s not because he likes you.”

  “It’s absolutely because he likes me. I’m likable.” Nate tried for a smile, managing it on the second attempt. “But that’s not why we’re going to Pearl.”

  Dom looked left, right, then pursed his lips. A woman carrying off-world silks jostled him. Her face was harried, her steps hurried, eyes everywhere as she scanned the streets. Dom paid her no mind. “I give up. Why are we going to see Pearl?”

  “For a person with an expensive education, you’re not very smart.” Nate sharpened his grin. “Pearl has a buyer. He’s under contract.”

  “How do you know?” Dom narrowed his eyes.

  “He told me when I saved his life. Do you remember?”

  “Yeah.” Dom found something interesting by his feet to look at.

  “It was the time you ran away.”

  “I said, I remember.” Dom wore the ghost of an answering smile. “So, your plan is, when the buyers arrive, we steal the antidote from them? How do you know they’ll have it?”

  “Because they work for your father.” Nate shrugged. “The only people likely to know about the cargo are the ones who put it there. Pearl said he had to kill witnesses.”

  “He wasn’t very thorough killing witnesses. You’re still breathing. I’m still breathing.”

  “All because I’m likable.” Nate put his hand on the hilt of his sword, finding calm in the weight of steel belted at his hip.

  Dom raised an eyebrow. “I don’t buy it.”

  “That they’ve got an antidote?”

  “No, that you’re likable.”

  “Ah.” Nate crossed his arms. “You’re from Earth. All manner of mischief your kind don’t understand.”

  “My kind?” Dom’s voice rose a few octaves.

  “Dom, your father sent that ship here. He was planning for this. The question you want to ask yourself isn’t, ‘Why is Nate so likable.’ It’s, ‘Why did he send a plague ship to Ganymede?’” Nate looked at the dome’s roof high above. “I’m still working that through myself.”

  Dom frowned, swaying as a group of traders from Europa slunk past. “I reckon we’ll find out soon enough.”

  Nate and Dom hunkered down across from the main entrance to Pearl’s lair. The base remained unchanged, a single massive airlock gating access to a dim warren of rooms. The pair used a massive waste loader as cover. The stench was a level of vileness Nate hoped never to smell again, but it kept the casual observer far away.

  Pearlescent Fang’s guards weren’t in short supply. Thugs patrolled the lair’s entrance, coming and going through the massive doors like bees in a hive. Dom stole another glance at the base. “What do we do? There’s like a hundred guys.”

  “I count twenty-three.” Nate stretched his shoulder, worrying at a kink from the day’s earlier ruckus. “May as well be a hundred, though. I can’t take that many with a blade.”

  “They’re seasoned pirates,” said Dom. “You couldn’t take one.”

  “Hush.” Nate backed further into the shadows. Approaching from their left was a small convoy. Empire forces, their sleek black vehicles hovering on Endless fields that showed no hint of the disrepair everywhere else on Ganymede. “Those your team?”

  “They’re no team of mine,” hissed Dom. His eyes glinted as he watched the newcomers.

  “Black air cars. Bet they’ll have black uniforms, too.” Nate raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Dear ol’ Dad and I aren’t seeing eye to eye,” said Dom. “I’m not operating within Empire sanctions.”

  “We’re going to die.” The realization hit Nate hard.

  “We’re not going to die. You might die. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’m beginning to hate you,” admitted Nate. “Here they are.”

  The Empire air cars drifted to a stop outside Pearl’s base, disgorging efficient, well-armed soldiers in black power armor. After the troops fanned out, two people exited the lead air car. They wore expensive-looking suits, in a style no doubt popular on Earth. Nate thought they looked like evil peacocks. One was a dark-haired man. His partner was a woman with curls that bounced as she walked.

  Ganymede citizens dispersed, no stranger to the heavy tread of justice’s boot, leaving the streets bare and empty of anyone except Pearl’s people and Team Empire. And you and Dom. You’re not in the right place at the right time, are you?

  The couple walked forward. Pearl exited his base, stomping like a rhino working his way up to anger. Pearl halted before the Team Empire duo, offering a murderous glare. “You’re late.”

  “We don’t care.” Bouncy-curls didn’t even try for a reconciliatory smile. “Do you have the package?”

  “Which one of you is in charge?” Pearl glanced between them.

  “Both of us.” Dark-hair glanced at his nails. “Did you recover the package?”

  Pearl turned to the dark maw of his base, beckoning. Four of his people walked out, carrying the coffin between them. They put it on the street, shuffling back inside. “Here it is.”

  Bouncy-curls bent to examine the coffin. Dark-hair looked around at Pearl’s people. “No witnesses, Pearl. That was the deal.”

  “Things got complicated. The reactor blew. I needed more help to pull the coffin free.” Pearl shrugged. “It’s how it is.”

  “The seal’s broken.” Bouncy-curls stood. “You opened it.”

  Pearl leaned forward, full of menace. “I did nothing of the sort.”

  “Someone opened it.” Bouncy-curls seemed unsure for a hot second. “It was probably you.”

  Dark-hair put a hand on her arm. “It doesn’t matter. We needed a test anyway.”

  She nodded. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait.” Pearl took a step forward. “What do you mean, a test?”

  Dark-hair smiled. Nate didn’t figure it for a nice smile. “The weapon you’ve recovered is untried. Ganymede is a cancer. These two problems meet to become a glorious opportunity.”

  Pearl looked at the coffin. “What kind of weapon is it? It’s a damn kid!”

  “The bio kind.” Bouncy-curls gave the same unpleasant grimace as her partner. “You’re going to die, and horribly.”

  “A plague?” Pearl stepped away from the coffin. “You two don’t look worried.”

  “That’s because we’ve taken precautions.” Bouncy-curls waved one of her soldiers forward. The trooper deposited a large case on the ground in front of Pearl. “Your payment.”

  “I thought you said I was going to die.” Pearl glanced at the case.

  “You are. But we always pay our debts. The Empire is built on trust and honesty.” Dark-hair turned, walking toward the vehicles, Bouncy-curls in lockstep. Most of their soldiers left with them, but a handful stayed as silent spectators. No doubt their job was to make sure Pearl didn’t try any heroics. For all that they were business partners, Team Empire didn’t know the pirate king very well.

 

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