Science Fiction

The Sheriff was slouched way down in his chair with his feet propped up on his desk when Jimmy came crashing through the door. His hat was tipped low over his face blocking the abundant morning sun that poured through the wavy glass windows of his office. Jimmy couldn't believe the Sheriff hadn't moved when he came running in.

"Sheriff? You dead?"

"No, I ain't dead boy, but I might just die if I don't get some damn sleep! Go away!"

This is part 2 of Shortcut To Farside: Revisited. Click here to read part one!

A sinking feeling came over me as I sat in the oppressive silence of The Flighty One's pilot's seat. I had changed my mind. I was allowed to do that, wasn't I? My hand knew that I had changed my mind before my mind did. That's why it had tested the abort switch. The same stupid hand that had engaged the destination navigator in the first place had tested the abort switch and it had failed.

Once again I stared out into the darkness through the partially open window. A humid intermittent breeze pushed its way inside and coaxed the curtains into a reluctant lazy dance, then left them limp and lifeless like the moisture laden leaves beneath the bare trees outside. I could actually smell the leaves decay as the worms infesting the fertile ground beneath the colorful carpet of former greenery consumed natures discards and replenished the soil with their excreted leavings.

     I wrote part one for this quite sometime ago. You really should read it first if you haven't already. Do a search!

     I never was one to waste time. I would sit and think up ways to accomplish two or three things at once -- no matter how long it took -- just so that when I actually went into action, not a single move was wasted. Shortcuts were my favorite time saver. I often thought that if I spent enough time planning out my shortcuts ahead of time, I could get to where I was going before I actually left. It's kind of like that moving-faster-than-light thing.

The Plato and the Sonic were issued orders to commence training exercises. That basically consisted of running their DSV's through a complex series of maneuvers in order to compare all the functions of their ships to known benchmarks. The pilots were well aware of the approaching threat from deep space and couldn't understand why they were out there playing games instead of intercepting the threat.Captain Neil had handed over the training maneuvers to her co-pilot and was concentrating on the long range feed being fed into her threat monitor. She had never seen anything like it, no one had. As she studied the racing UAC's, she knew that their DSV's were hopelessly outclassed. The alien ships performed well above the capabilities of her own ship. She would give anything to get behind the controls of one.

The Elders had laid it out plain enough. I was to assist Bear Bandit and Suna in the capture of a former close acquaintance of mine, now a runner, Francine. If we succeed, the slate would be wiped clean, and I could disappear again. The only other alternative was for us to fail, in which case the three of us would be dead.Actually, I had the choice of not going with them at all, but then the Elders would have me killed anyway. Not much of a choice really...

Deep Space Observation Headquarters (DSOH)

17-12-2022 19:32

The cramped DSOH monitor facility was in obvious panic. Technicians constantly ran into each, racing between monitors and workstations, calibrating instruments and testing search software that they knew was operating properly.

"We've lost eight trackers in the past six months, including Rico thanks to you Mason." Suna helped me to my feet as she continued. "There's a new renegade on the loose and we can't seem to put the wraps on...""What about the vital sign monitor? Didn't you zero in on the runner when the other trackers lights went out?" I asked.

"No, Rico was the first to carry it, and that led us to you."

"Eight trackers gone? Must have been new recruits. No runner is that good."

"This one is Mason. You knew most of them. Ted and Jake are gone."

"You're going to have to kill me Cain," said Lea. "You'll never touch me again, not that way."

"That's up to you Lea. I have this lovely little girl, and I have your daughter too. If she lives that is." Cain made a quick motion over his shoulder towards the escape pod.
With our attention riveted on Cain, neither Lea nor I had noticed there was a motionless body still occupying the pod.

"Oh, your going to get a shock all right." She laughed as she grabbed my face...

...and placed her lips on mine.

All my instincts told me to pull away but the male body has a mind of it's own and reacted accordingly. After the initial struggle to withdraw from her embrace, I could do nothing but kiss her back. Finally she released me and stepped back in triumph.

Cain stared smugly at us from the monitor. Whatever had transpired during the time Lea had been searching for her daughter Angie, it wasn't what she had expected. Angie seemed to be under Cain's control and appeared to have little or no feelings for her mother. Lea was dazed and overwhelmed, still shaking from the sight before her..."Angie," said Lea in a trembling voice, "I've been looking for you ever since..."

"Cain told me what happened mother," interrupted Angie. "You abandoned me and everyone else in the heat of a battle!"

"What do you mean Dog?" Asked Lea.

"You know much about the Ragar Lea, but there is much you do not know. I looked at you and I saw danger. I didn't know how to trust you as I had trust in friend Owen. Then I looked farther. I looked beyond the danger to the cause, and I saw your pain."

"You invaded my thoughts?" Asked Lea testily.

"... If I can see something somewhere, a place or even a planet; it matters not, then I can cast my thoughts out. I found this place, and it is good for us."

"Dog, you couldn't have possibly seen this far," said Lea. "I'm telling you, it is off the charts!"

"I have no use for charts woman," countered Dog. "I have eyes that can see beyond your imagination, and certainly beyond your incomplete maps. Besides, we are needed here. You will see."

Cindy nudged the ship closer to the object of my interest. Next to one of the fighter service bays, partially hidden by the wreckage of one of the fighters sat a big crate. It was pretty much man size, and as a matter of fact, closely resembled the size of a casket, though somewhat larger. The more I looked at it, the more I was convinced that that was exactly what it was. I didn't like this. Destroyers didn't carry coffins. They just jettisoned their dead into the nearest sun. You always had your own personal crematorium available in space with all the suns at your disposal.