Horizon Down (Galaxy Mavericks Book 9) Read online

The doors clicked, and then they opened. The dark, dimly lit Argus ship lay ahead.

  Steam escaped from a pipe in the ceiling, and a long track of green neon ceiling lights flickered.

  Florian started, and the others followed behind him.

  Seven shadows waited for them in the darkness. Their handcoils.

  As Florian came closer, the dim lights illuminated their faces.

  Fat Arguses in leather with earrings in their noses. They wore leather jackets. The room smelled like musk.

  A boar captain in the center snorted and raised his gun. His yellow teeth were dull and cracking.

  The other Arguses were pink like Florian was used to, and they grunted and snorted.

  “Let’s begin,” Florian said.

  The Argus captain started speaking. “Bok bok pa-bok ong bok pa-ong bok bok…”

  Florian held up his hand and growled.

  The translator began to speak, but Florian silenced him.

  “Oink,” Florian said. “Oinky oinky oinky oink oink stupid oink oink.”

  He inflected his voice, saying the word again and again, going up and down a scale.

  The Argus captain stopped.

  “Oink, oink, oink, honk…”

  Florian then pretended to burp, and the sound echoed off the walls. He covered his mouth and giggled.

  The translator looked at Florian, flabbergasted.

  “I hate your language,” Florian said. “It’s better when I pretend to speak it.”

  The Argus captain squealed and held up his handcoil. The others aimed at the humans.

  “Nope,” Florian said, wagging his finger. “Now shut the fuck up and listen carefully.”

  He leered at the translator, who was still taken aback. Florian snapped his fingers, and the translator reluctantly translated the message.

  “This is what's gonna happen, porkies,” Florian said. “You're gonna turn your fleet around, get the hell out of here, and thank your little porcine gods that you did.”

  The translator translated, and Florian focused on the words, not the time it took to translate…

  “You are a fool,” the Argus captain said. “Your threats do not work on us.”

  “You don't know who I am,” Florian said, “or what I'm capable of. This isn't a negotiation, swine. I'm telling you exactly what to do in order to avoid ending up on a spit.”

  Florian clapped his hands.

  Smoke emerged from the shadows and stood in front of the entourage, his gray eyes bright in the dark. He cracked his knuckles.

  “We’ll match your brawn,” Florian said. “If you want to go toe to…hoof, that is. But trust me, you don’t want a piece of Smoke.”

  Smoke folded his muscled arms.

  The Arguses quickly glanced at each other, sensing that they were no match for the tall cyborg.

  “You may outmatch us here, but our entire fleet will crush you,” the Argus captain said, laughing. “Your little cyborg does not really scare us.”

  “Oh, would you like to be scared?” Florian asked. “You should have told me.”

  He pointed out a rectangular window.

  Red eyes gathered and swirled outside the window for a moment, then disappeared.

  The Argus grunted.

  “You’re outnumbered,” Florian said, “in a big way.”

  “So you're in control of the Planet Eaters,” it said. “We thought someone was behind them. Never did we think it would be a scrawny human like you.”

  “Now, where were we?” Florian asked. “Ah! I remember: did you know the emperor of the Zachary Empire is dead?” Florian asked.

  “We heard as much,” the Argus said. “We suspected trouble when Tavin Miloschenko disappeared. Our supply of slaves dried up.”

  “Really?” Florian asked, pretending surprise. “Miloschenko’s missing? That's a shame. But listen: I have a gift for the new emperor that I want you to deliver.”

  Florian gestured to a television screen. The Puente family sat in a cell.

  “Humans!” the Argus snorted. “Why should we deliver them and not take them into our own custody?”

  “They're high profile,” Florian said. “And with all the…turmoil going on right now, you pigs are going to need to stay in the empire’s graces.”

  “You have no interest in our affairs, human.”

  “So you think. You will deliver the family to the empire. This didn't come from me, though. Tell them you found them trying to escape Refugio.”

  “What do you get out of this?” the Argus asked.

  “I benefit from a strong pig and Zachary Empire alliance,” Florian said. “I'll leave it at that.”

  The Arguses huddled, talking to each other.

  “We agree to your demands,” the Argus said. “Under one condition.”

  “Screw your little condition,” Florian said.

  “We demand that—”

  “Oink, oink, oink, oink, oink,” Florian said.

  Hux and Tatiana joined him.

  “Oinky, oinky, oinky,” Florian said, wagging his fingers at them.

  Smoke cracked his fingers and took several steps toward the pigs, his hands ready to grab twin handcoils.

  The pigs snorted, but then they hooked their handcoils to their belts and waved Florian out.

  “Pleasure doing business with you, gentlepigs,” Florian said. “Let’s not fucking do this ever again, all right?”

  Florian tapped the translator on the shoulder. The man was sweating, as if this had been the hardest task of his life.

  “Nice job, my friend,” Florian said.

  “You didn’t tell me about any of this,” he said. “This is bull—”

  Florian shushed him. “Welcome to the corporate world.”

  He started for the airlock of the corporate ship, passing out from the Argus ship’s darkness. Armed guards were waiting for them.

  “I’m not done with you!” the translator said, grabbing Florian by the shoulder.

  Florian frowned.

  “Let me guess: you’re the righteous type, eh?” he asked.

  “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” the translator asked. He pulled out a cellphone.

  But in an instant, Smoke punched the phone out of his hand.

  “Shame, shame, shame,” Florian said. “I knew we couldn’t trust you. But you’ve served your purpose.”

  The translator’s eyes widened.

  Hux shook his head. “Uh, boss, should we, uh…”

  “Kill him?” Florian asked, grinning. “Hux, quite frankly, I am appalled.”

  He whipped around, pretending to be angry.

  “Are you insinuating that I kill one of my employees? A temporary direct report? Do you know what an HR kerfuffle that would cause?”

  Hux scratched his head.

  Florian pointed back at Hux.

  “What a tool!” he cried.

  The translator sighed.

  “No, I’m not going to harm you,” Florian said. “I’m merely going to ask for your…discretion.”

  The translator balled a fist. “You can’t expect me to stay quiet.”

  “No, I can’t,” Florian said, sighing. “And I can’t guarantee your silence, can I?”

  The translator stared at him resolutely.

  Florian clucked his tongue.

  “Damn,” he said. “I guess I should call up the news and turn myself in for treason…”

  His face hardened.

  “But I’m not going to do that. Smoke, now.”

  Smoke kicked the translator in the chest, and the man flew back into the Argus ship.

  “Hey, porkies!” Florian cried, cupping his hand to his mouth.

  The Arguses looked at him curiously.

  “You were looking for a sacrifice, right? Hopefully this one will do!”

  Florian smacked the airlock control panel and the corporate ship bay doors shut, locking the man inside the Argus ship.

  “Hey!” the translator cried, beating on the window. “Wha
t are you—you said you weren’t going to—”

  “Kill you?” Florian asked. “I would never do that to such a loyal employee.”

  He gestured to Hux. “Release the escape pod with the family inside so the pigs can nab them. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Please,” the translator cried, putting his fingers on the window. “Please, don’t let me—”

  WHAM!

  The Arguses squealed.

  The man’s head slammed against the window, and he lost consciousness. A blood-curdling squeaking sound ensued as the Arguses dragged him down the door, and into the darkness. The last thing Florian saw before the Argus airlock closed was the Argus captain looking back at him, a sinister gleam in the pig’s eye.

  Florian smirked.

  Then he banged his head against the wall, bruising his cheek. He brought his hand to his skin—it was bleeding.

  Hux did the same.

  Tatiana took off her glasses and stomped on them.

  The armed guards took turns punching each other.

  Smoke hesitated, but then he cut his arm with a knife, drawing blood.

  Soon, the entire crew looked like they had been in a rough fight.

  Florian laughed, seeing his beat-up crew. He winked at Smoke and produced a wrinkled sheet of paper from his suit jacket. The cyborg snatched it away.

  “Mission accomplished, folks,” Florian said. “Let’s go home. And when we get back, Tati—order me some pork rinds, will you? I’m feeling hungry all of a sudden…”

  Bleeding, he laughed all the way to the bridge.

  9

  Special Agent Ryan Miller eased his corsair into the golden atmosphere of Gargantua. His ship, shaking badly from re-entry, relinquished control to him, and he sliced the corsair through a cloud, coming up on the remains of the Gargantua Medical Facility for Military Research.

  “I’ll be damned,” he said, looking at the giant crater where the hospital had been.

  As he descended, he flew past several police ships that patrolled the area, saluting to the pilots as he passed.

  “Mmm mmm mmm,” Miller said, “That must have been one precise bomb or some really hungry aliens.”

  His radio opened up.

  “State your business,” a female police officer said.

  “GALPOL, Special Agent Ryan Miller. I called ahead about a murder investigation.”

  “Yeah, I remember speaking with you. You’ve come a long way for a murder.”

  “Distance isn’t anything but a number,” Miller said, laughing. “Where can I land?”

  “Look for a group of police cruisers parked south of the crater. It’s the press area but it’ll have to do.”

  “I’ll take whatever you folks can give me,” Miller said. “And hey, thanks for letting me come out here. I really appreciate it.”

  “Anything to help a fellow cop,” the officer said, disconnecting.

  Miller glanced at digital notes lying on his dashboard.

  His visit to Devika’s mother, Mary, had paid off.

  He thought about the woman now—kind, fiery, aging. Her face was torn with worry about her daughter. That much Miller could tell. No mother in good conscience could sit by and let her daughter’s reputation be smeared with mud. Especially a murder investigation. Especially when Mary was a social worker. Justice was ingrained in her. She wasn’t going to stand by and let Miller not be able to do his job.

  But she’d been scared. He expected that. Hell, if his daughter was the subject of a murder investigation, he’d be peeing his pants. He wouldn’t be able to sleep until he knew what was going to shake out. He understood that.

  But he needed help.

  If he didn't get to the bottom of this investigation, a murderer would be walking free.

  That didn't jive with his belief system.

  He’d pulled the whole, “I’m really your friend, Mary, so I’m going to walk out of this house because you don’t have to tell me anything, but honestly, I can help you” tactic.

  And it worked.

  He hadn't even made it to the driveway when Mary burst out of the house.

  He took off his fedora and waited for her to speak.

  “I'm not turning my daughter in,” she said. “But if you want to know, she called me from Gargantua.”

  He tipped his hat to her and said, “Thanks, Mary.”

  He left her standing in the doorway, arms folded and eyes reddened.

  He had what he needed.

  He could’ve gotten a warrant—easily—but he didn’t believe in strong-arm tactics. Not with family. Sometimes they were your only help in an investigation like this.

  And so he’d hopped in his corsair, stopped at a space station to drink some tea and call his daughter for a moment, hear her voice, feel good about the fact that she had not in fact committed a murder (“absolutely not, thank you very much, Dad”)—just to be sure. He stood on the observation deck at the star colony, watched the space station revolve around Provenance for a few minutes before making the long journey to Gargantua.

  And here he was, with a new lead that he felt would bring him closer to solving this case.

  He’d heard the news of the alien attack while on the way there. Worried he wouldn’t be able to land on the planet, he radioed ahead and threw his status around. Worked almost every time.

  As he brought his corsair down for a quick landing, he saw the crater up close. It was even bigger than it looked from the sky. The entire facility was gone.

  Some damned alien this was.

  He whistled as he touched down, cut his engine.

  In all his years in the force, he’d never seen anything like this.

  Hell, he’d never seen more events happening at the same time.

  As he walked out of his airlock, he wondered if they were all connected.

  Had to be coincidence.

  The alien attacks on Refugio and Kepler, and now Gargantua. The murder of Tavin Miloschenko. The Argus fleet descending on Macalestern. At some point, a religious man had to just throw up his hands and pray.

  But this?

  “Agent Miller,” a voice said.

  A police officer in a beige uniform waved at him. He was thin and wore sunglasses.

  Miller waved back and shook the officer’s hand.

  “I know you guys are occupied,” Miller said. “I just need a quick moment to scan the area. Cellphone signal scan.”

  “Who are you looking for?” the officer asked. “Hope to God they weren’t in the place when it happened.”

  “Well, I’m not sure,” Miller said. “You see, the person I’m looking for just doesn’t want to be found.”

  He pulled out his tablet and activated an app. A screen appeared and a scanner directed him to walk forward several feet. It then began to triangulate a signal on a terrain satellite map of the area.

  “It’s gonna be a minute,” Miller said. “These damn things. They’re so finicky in finding a signal.”

  The officer nodded.

  Miller looked around at the crater and the surrounding debris.

  “I’d say you have a little mess to clean up,” Miller said.

  “A little?” the officer asked.

  “Good god,” Miller said. “The alien that ate this place is going to need an antacid right about now.”

  “Tell me about it,” the officer said. “The thing vomited up a bunch of debris before it disappeared.”

  “Is that right,” Miller said, glancing down at his screen. It was still scanning.

  “Even vomited up a guy from another world,” the officer said.

  Miller laughed. “You guys tell some funny jokes on Gargantua.”

  “Serious,” the officer said. “Barfed up a guy from Defestus.”

  Miller stopped.

  “What do you mean? You’re saying someone from Defestus ended up here?”

  “Yep. And turns out Defestus is gone.”

  “Get outta here,” Miller said. “You’re full of it.”
r />   “You don’t watch the news, do you?”

  “I watch it plenty.”

  “The aliens ate Defestus and didn’t leave any scraps,” the officer said. “Ate this facility around the same time. Awfully strange.”

  Miller sighed.

  His scanner beeped. On the map, a blinking dot appeared. A date and clock appeared on the top right, and on time lapse, the clock ticked, and the blinking dot moved around the area.

  The officer craned his head to observe.

  “I got a warrant,” Miller said. “Tracing the gal’s cellphone.”

  “I’d say she was in the medical facility then,” the officer said, “Hmm…according to that clock, looks like she’s leaving.”

  The blinking dot slid from the solid square of the medical facility into the terrain outside. Then the clock stopped.

  “That’s right around the time the place disappeared,” the officer said.

  Miller stroked his chin.

  “I’ll be damned,” he said. “Everywhere she goes, so goes destruction.”

  “Who’re you looking for?”

  “I’d rather not say,” Miller said.

  “We have the access records for the facility,” the officer said. “Maybe we can look her up.”

  “In that case,” Miller said, smiling, “I’m looking for another agent. A colleague.”

  “GALPOL?”

  “Keep this quiet, will you?” Miller asked. “I don’t want the word getting out. Sensitive case, you understand.”

  The officer nodded and spoke into his walkie-talkie. “I’ve got a GALPOL guy here wanting to look at the access logs for the medical facility.”

  “What’s the name?” a female voice asked.

  The officer turned to Miller.

  “Devika Sharma,” Miller said.

  The officer repeated the name.

  “Yep, we’ve got her,” the voice said. “One of the last ones in, too. Couple of others were with her.”

  “What was she there for?” the officer asked.

  “Underground Lab,” the voice said. “The military won’t tell us, but from what I can tell, it probably had something to do with the alien they transported down to the lower levels.”

  “Alien?” Miller asked. “What alien?”

  “Planet Eater,” the officer whispered, “the one that caused this mess.”

  “Who was with her?” Miller asked.

  “A Keltie Sheffield and a Michiko Lins,” the officer said. “And three Galactic Guard officers. A Romeo Beauregard, a Griffin Sims, and a Will Stroud.”