Cosmic Tales 8: Ghost Page 2
"It is what Dreadener has called the 'big one'. I don't know why, but he wants you. My orders were to arrest you, and should I fail, to kill you and your crew."
A deathly hush settled over the room as the spy smirked and Wingclipper relit the cigar. The ship's fire siren sounded off and 234 quickly cancelled the alert.
"To be honest," said the spy. "Dreadener was infuriated by the men's morale lowering in your absence, by your ongoing absenteeism, annoying entire planets, and as he put it, of your actions of infidelity towards the military."
"Is Dreadener calling me an infidel?
"No. He's calling you a trickster."
"Oh. Then that's all right."
Wingclipper picked an item up from the table - the device that had been attached to the underside of the hull, green and rectangular, densely packed and heavy like a lead weight. Wingclipper threw the item up and down in his palm, then lowered it into the spy's face so close that he could sniff it. He dropped it and the spy responded with lightning reflexes, snatching the green brick from temporary free fall.
"Care to explain what this is, spy?"
"I was instructed to place this against your ship. It gives us your co-ordinates, temperature, velocity readings, sensors that calculate how many beings are on board, other electrical equipment on board, radiation readings. It is the ultimate device for keeping track of any vessel."
Without warning, Wingclipper snatched the green tracker from the spy's hand and gave it to 234.
"Sir, do you want me to inspect the contents?"
"Are there any components valuable enough to be salvaged?"
After a few moments of opening the casing and inspecting the sea of wires inside, 234 shook its head.
"Then initiate your crushing mechanism."
The group watched 234 squash the reinforced tracker like a melting chocolate bar until sparks and battery acid seeped out. Wingclipper then made his way into the cockpit and spent a while downloading something from the mainframe, creating a tense waiting period in the command room where Elwood, Rodeena and the spy sat and watched each other carefully. They looked around the room, focusing on a point and maintaining eye contact with it. Fingers were drummed. Feet were tapped. Eventually Elwood was the first to break the standoff.
"You seem to know Captain Wingclipper fairly well. Is there history between the pair of you?"
The spy shifted uncomfortably in his seat before he spoke.
"You could say that. I have been dispatched on several missions to capture your captain and return him to the military, all of which have failed. This was my last attempt. If I failed, I would be fired. Wingclipper was popular amongst my regiment. I didn't know him personally. We met once. But I do know he has a history with getting into trouble with a repertoire of deceit, going missing, desertion and acquiring certain cargo or passengers he can sell off for profit at a later date."
The spy leaned closer to Elwood and Elwood recoiled slightly.
"You may think you know this man, that you feel safe in his company, that you are comfortable aboard this ship. But he can suddenly change with a snap of his fingers. He is unstable. He will lead you head on into danger and only look after himself and his resources. To him you are both expendable. This man is not your ally. Now release me and allow me to take him back to the military where he must face trial for his numerous crimes."
The spy detached a piece of the tape from his arm and freed his hand enough so that he could reach for the pistol in his holster. With quick reflexes, he reached inside and pulled it out, startling Elwood and Rodeena. 234 and Bink did not have enough time to respond. As the spy raised his pistol, a flash of red came from the cockpit doorway and it was blasted out of the spy's grip, hitting the wall and landing many feet away in a pile of melted pieces and smoke.
"Are you going to add that crime to the list?" said Wingclipper. "Firing on your own men?"
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234, Elwood and Rodeena navigated the ship as they got closer to Helion V, while Wingclipper and Bink watched over the spy in the command room now refastened to the chair. Wingclipper reached into his belt and brought out a small hard-drive device for plugging into computer mainframes.
"I see you kept the personal stick," said the spy.
"Standard military issue. I can store more on this than most drives. On this you will find the details of the ship's journeys, fuel usage, its whereabouts, how long it has been missing, where it was deregistered from, when it was last within the vicinity of the nearest military vessel, its inventory, power cells, make of hyper drive, structure. Every necessary piece of information regarding me and my crew is on here. Take this with you to General Dreadener. Give it to him as a gift from me. I miss the old fool. Is he still trying to grow a moustache?"
"Where are you dropping me?" said the spy as he took the stick.
"On Helion V. You can use our emergency pod to land on the planet and then find a passenger cruiser to take you back to base. It's a long trip."
"So you want the dreaded Dreadener to find out where you are?"
"Oh, we'll be long gone by the time you communicate with him or even return to base. I like to have a short head start, test the old fool's intellect, see if he can catch up with us. I often think of him gazing out of the window in his study, wondering where his favourite captain is."
"You're a nutcase," hissed the spy.
"Ex-military. Can't help it. I'll get my assistant to transfer you to the pod, make sure you're fully equipped and ready for evacuation. It's cold outside."
234 entered and seized the spy with supermassive strength, lifting him off the floor by the collar and then allowing him to walk, every so often prodding him with a metal finger down the corridor and to the evacuation bay. Each time the spy protested, 234 poked harder. He berated himself for losing his pistol and his one single opportunity to seize the ship.
Within hours the Chromium Bullet reached the orbit of Helion V, a bluish white planet covered in dense cloud, irregular cyclones and depressions. From the cockpit 234 activated the exit hatch doors and the emergency pod lowered, rotating and gathering speed away from the ship. The crew watched the pod shrink in size as it gained distance.
"Just a moment," said Wingclipper, barging his way out. "I'll be right back."
He climbed a stepladder and entered a hatch in the roof accessed from the command room. Inside was a recliner chair and a gun turret that could fire laser barrages at colossal speeds. He blew the dust off the controls and sneezed, then sat down, punched in the manual override code and took aim through the frontal visor. He locked on to the object, the screen bleeped and the cabin shook as a flurry of shots were fired. He screamed a whoopee.
From inside the cockpit, the crew witnessed tens of laser shots careen through space, followed by a fireball and a flash of white emergency pod metal deteriorating into tiny particles. Wingclipper returned shortly afterwards, finally getting to smoke his treasured cigar.
"Did you just..." said Rodeena.
"Spies are scum," said Wingclipper. "I wanted him to think he could get away. Did you see the look on his face? Oh, he thought he had me captured! Fantastic. What a day." Then he looked at Elwood with severe intent. "If you sniff out a spy, don't hesitate. It's your life or theirs. Right then, team. Take us down on to this planet. Someone wants to see this library."
Although the library was a distant memory, and now the visit to a new planet seemed a bit too much considering the events of the day, Elwood tried not to process or deconstruct what he had seen. Even though he sat blankly and tried to think of nothing, he could not evade his nagging conscience. A conflict was coming.
"There's going to be a major war?" he said to Rodeena. She placed her arm across his shoulder and said, "Nothing is for certain. We can only wait and see."
The ship descended below the orbit altitude and entered Helion V's atmosphere, sending a spray of orange and red cascading before it vanished into the dense cloud layer.
&n
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Written by Richard C. Parr
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About the Author
Richard C. Parr was born in 1986 in England and lives in Nottingham. He has travelled to 20 countries and runs a blog at HumanEmbodiment.com.
Contact Me
Email: becomingwhatis@hotmail.com
Twitter: @HumanEmbodiment