Weeds of Eden Read online

  #

  "I'd much prefer to land on Io," Matty said into the com unit as they crawled nearer the moon at sub-orbital speed.

  "Negative," the channel crackled. "I don't care about your licensure or who you have on board," the uppity officer aboard the orbital security hub squawked. "Everyone goes through the transit hub. Report to OSH3 to transfer your travelers to the surface.

  "But your rules don't make sense," Matty argued. "No ship this size could pose any kind of threat. We've got a stock Ein-Warp tachypomp drive system--there's no way our FTL systems pose a threat of igniting any polonium stores." He neglected to mention all the custom work Doc Johnson and Fryberger did to modify their systems the last time it was in for repairs at Darkside Station.

  "Report to OSH3," the voice repeated. As if to punctuate the statement the MEA's class E sentry ship pulled closer to monitor the situation. Its transponder identified it as the Vigilance.

  "It's not worth the argument," Vesuvius sighed from the copilot seat. "Just get us over to the transit hub so that we can ferry down and get this job over with."

  Matty nodded and shifted course. "Reporting to OSH3," he responded on the com.

  "Acknowledged." The capital ship slowed course and hung in orbit nearby, rather than pursuing. It looked more threatening than it was--MEA military ships were a joke amongst Investigators and any of the shadier classes they sometimes consorted with. MEA military rarely ever took action, let alone fire their massive weapons.

  The political red tape tying up the galactic navy over the past few decades is what gave rise to the Investigator profession. People still needed soldiers willing to pull a trigger when necessary but the intergalactic government had so hamstrung its forces that jobs of necessity fell to the much-villainized private sector.

  The Rickshaw Crusader pulled nearer the ring-shaped station where a shuttle-craft would take them to the surface. A cluster of various corporate and private ships of all makes hung nearby; the largest was a class D Shivan vessel. That didn't seem unusual as the heavy-g species had been prospecting Jupiter's resources for decades, though not much else in the local solar system particularly interested them.

  Matty did a double take on the ships.

  Vesuvius leaned forward, trying to glimpse whatever had gotten his attention.

  "Hey, Dekker--you might want to see this," Matty called.

  Dekker approached from the hall where he babysat their passenger.

  Matty pointed to another class B frigate only slightly larger than the Crusader. "See the symbol painted on the hull?"

  Their leader bobbed his head solemnly. "I see it," Dekker kept staring. "I dunno if that's a Druze marking or just graffiti," he commented. "There's lots of paint on that thing--but good eyes. It looks to me more like a refurbed ship bought from one of those scrappers on the wrong side of District Three... but let's keep an eye on it all the same."

  Shin, occupying one of the four seats in the cockpit looked at him sidelong and then stood to get a glimpse of the markings. "Did you say Druze?"

  Dekker nodded.

  Shin shot him an inquisitive look. "Aren't they usually hanging around Prognon Austicon?"

  "Yeah," Matty interjected excitedly. "They think he's some kind of messiah or something."

  "They used to be an religious offshoot of an old religion," Dekker explained, "at least a millennium ago. Somehow Austicon corrupted them from within around the time that the MEA began entertaining laws prohibiting faith groups aside from those allied with the Krenzin. They fed the hysteria and started the Secret Wars until the MEA outlawed all religions."

  Shin raised an eyebrow. "Aren't the Secret Wars still happening?"

  Dekker holstered a pistol. "Yeah. To some degree. The MEA's religious edicts are about as effective as their ban on weapons."

  Vesuvius watched the distant ship. "You don't think Austicon is here, do you? Chief Magnate Janus's brother Jai could make an appealing target."

  Dekker stared out of the cockpit for a long moment. "No; I don't think he's here. Jai Janus is too small of a fish for Austicon to fry--especially with such a high bounty on his head and with a face that's so well known."

  Matty stayed at the helm but Vesuvius and Shin followed Dekker towards the mess where they would prep for transport. Vesuvius asked, "But what if he is on Io?"

  Dekker's hand rested on the grip of his pistol. "Then I finally get to settle a score with the madman who's been killing my people since before I was born."

  #

  Prognon Austicon set down the black bag of tools he'd commandeered from the supply room in the warehouse district. He closed the door behind him and locked it before retrieving the laser drill and affixing it to the wall.

  He set the depth and activated the device. Checking the hole's bore and tunnel, he burned the last few micrometers away and snaked a thin spy cable through the hole. Austicon paired its feed to his viewing screen as he fit the audio buds into his ears.

  Jai Janus sat at his desk and spoke to a man the assassin did not recognize.

  "...because I'm being blackmailed by a group of women--very powerful women."

  The stranger asked, "Doesn't it always come down to a woman?"

  Halabella's officer shook his head. "Far too often. But I'm not planning on giving in. The Pheema sent one of his negotiators in to mediate the dispute with the union... provided Jace Strengen makes it to the meeting."

  "What are you saying?" Jai's guest leaned forward conspiratorially. "Did your brother put a hit on Jace for you?"

  Jai looked away.

  Austicon looked past Jai and zoomed in on his desk. Hovering in a stasis pod as a paperweight hung his secondary objective. The seed had only begun to germinate and looked otherwise like a miniature sugar beet. Its case had been etched with an arbolean signature but a label on the glass read: unknown species--new flora discovered 0064PISW: Ganymede, Sippar Sulcus Mt.

  Heat burned in his gut. Austicon was not a particularly nostalgic soul, but denigrating such a unique life-form to serve as a mere bauble irked him. Only he was allowed such a freedom.

  An alert chirped on Jai's desk. "The Krenzin mediator will be arriving shortly."

  The nameless contact across from Director Janus closed his paper note file. The tab labeled it with a single word: Satyr. He tucked it into his briefcase and the two men left the room.

  #

  Mustache stood at the airlock but remained in the ship. He and Matty would keep the Rickshaw Crusader in orbit while the other members of the Dozen escorted their Krenzin passenger to his meeting.

  Dekker stood apart from his crew. He had been flagged and detained by station security. He wore a scowl while the unarmed security officers flanked him.

  "Unless you can explain the exact nature of the weapon…" the first officer scanned the ancient mechanism that hung over Dekker's shoulder by a strap.

  "Well, not even then," the second one interjected.

  "I've never seen anything like it," the first said.

  "And you never will again," Dekker stated.

  "Well, we can't let you bring it aboard," a third barked.

  Dekker's scowl twisted further. The Reliquary was a mysterious gun of ancient, possibly arcane, origins and had been handed down to him by his father, and the old Watchman priest Diacharia before him.

  The Dozen watched from the other side of the security checkpoint, surrounding Zarbeth who Guy petted. Zarbeth gave the Dozen's designated prankster a dirty look, but Guy pretended not to notice.

  Dekker didn't want to be caught without the incredible weapon if Prognon Austicon was in fact here. However, he couldn't press the issue without hurting his company's reputation and risk losing future contracts.

  "Fine," Dekker finally said. "It's just a simple escort mission, after all. I can leave the heavy weaponry on the Crusader."

  He put his prized item into Mustache's hands. "Be careful with that."

  Mustache nodded with a cavalier wink. He'd seen it fired before an
d knew firsthand how much destruction it could cause.

  Dekker looked at the security officers expectantly and they waved him through. He joined his crews and they took Zarbeth to the ferry and then shuttled down to the surface of Io.

  The transport curved a broad arc as it descended towards the biggest of the domed cities. Set on a preprogrammed route, the dropship flew through a pneumatic travel locks that gave it access Outpost 7, Halabella's primary station on the Io moon.

  Relatively silent, the crew walked Zarbeth from the transit station to the local conference center where the meetings were scheduled. They tromped through the downtown section of Outpost 7 and eyes instinctively turned to the group of armed mercenaries.

  The Krenzin shot Guy a disturbed look. "I will allow the local security team to bring me to the orbital transit dock. I'll alert you when I arrive."

  "Suit yourself," Vesuvius interjected before Dekker could respond with any amount of diplomacy. Guy made eye contact with him and pretended to pet an imaginary cat.

  Scowling, the alien mediator parted company and entered the government center. Guy shrugged and made a heart-breaking motion with his hands.

  With Zarbeth deposited safely into the hands of the local constabulary forces, the Investigators broke off to see what kind of local color was available. The Krenzin gave Dekker a paging device to signal when his sessions concluded and he required a ride home.

  Dekker dropped it into a pocket and returned to his friends. He hooked an arm over Shin and another over Vesuvius; Guy followed in tow as a third wheel. They meandered back the way they had come and spotted several of their comrades interacting with local vendors or checking out the stores.

  Down a crooked alley, he pointed to a blinking, neon sign. "The Rusty Lizard? That looks like a decent place. You guys want to grab a bite?"

  Shin looked at the dive reluctantly.

  "A gastro-intestinally risky hive of scum and villainy? Of course you'd pick this place," Vesuvius commented.

  Shin's stomach rumbled, though he wasn't sure if it was from fear or hunger. "Sure. I guess I came for an adventure, right?"

  Guy hung back and turned to a nearby video display advertising a miner recruitment service. It looped information about how the polonium rods were excavated, refined, and developed into the highly regulated thermonuclear fuel. The recording featured clips of detonations and controlled subsurface blasts.

  Vesuvius called back, "Are you coming, Guy?"

  "Nah," he said, watching the screen. "You know me. I love my explosions... except for the kind that follow Dekker's restaurant choices."

  The trio shrugged and ducked into the Rusty Lizard. "He might have made the wiser choice," Vesuvius noted. "Last time, Dekker made him try chicken paws."

  "Hey," Dekker defended, adjusting his coat to keep his guns concealed. "The menu claimed they were a delicacy."

  #

  Austicon slinked through the laser-bored tunnels that made up Outpost 7's substructure. The impressive size and layout of the facilities were a credit to the automated design bots that crafted such places on the harsh, terraformed environments such as Jupiter's satellites. The towering ceilings and spacious feel made it seem almost like the sub-level was actually aboveground.

  He finally found the thing he was looking for: a nondescript warehouse surrounded with heavy-duty fencing. Austicon walked up to the military-grade security kiosk while he rummaged through his black bag of tricks.

  Retrieving a high-tech cube that dangled wires and cables like an octopoid mechnar, the assassin activated the unit and set it on the security interface. The hacker unit flew into motion, sampling data and inserting probes into the necessary ports to bypass any locks, copy and loop any feeds, and prevent detection. After a brief crackle and burst of light, a wisp of smoke rose from the electronic panel and the luminaries around the warehouse deadened.

  Austicon turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. He took a blaster rifle from his satchel and leveled it towards the direction of the sounds.

  A few seconds later Leviathan and a group of Druze emerged from the shadows. One of them turned back to activate and drop a metallic ball and orient its infrared detection sensor.

  Half a dozen of his loyal worshipers knelt. Leviathan, a skinny humanoid creature who was more machine than man at this stage in his life, wore a formfitting black jumpsuit and something that looked like a welding mask.

  Austicon grinned as his most loyal friend bowed. The mask half opened, partly revealing his gnarled and twisted beauty and lidless eyes. It repulsed any mortals who might see him, but Austicon and Leviathan had known each other since long before taking such crude forms.

  "Do you have your half of the device?" Austicon dangled a set of wires attached to sensor probes.

  Leviathan stood and unzipped his suit, revealing his pallid, naked flesh. He broke a few stitches and peeled back his skin to reveal a surgical pocket built into his lithe body. Pulling out the cylindrical, electronic device, Leviathan held it out before him like an offering.

  "Excellent," Austicon hissed, motioning them towards him. They obediently joined their leader who gave them each a weapon from the sack. "Now we are ready for the fun to begin."

  He pressed a button on the octopoid hacking unit and the immense cargo door of the warehouse opened of its own accord. The activity drew out a heavy detail of security officers armed with retractable batons. Their eyes widened when they locked eyes with their assailants and spotted the illegal firearms they held.

  The Druze mowed them down with a hail of bullets and charged into the opening ensuring a swift and complete take-over. Another crew of Druze arrived with a hovering load-lifter that carried heavy mining machinery taken from a different warehouse. They immediately began their drilling operation.

  Austicon finished assembling his contraption as he entered the storehouse. It had been stuffed full from floor to rafters with polonium pods that were charged and ready for distribution.

  One of the Druze hollered instructions to his work crew and checked his timepiece. "We're on schedule, my lord," he reported to Leviathan, refusing to even look Austicon in the face. "It will take very little effort to open a channel into the fault lines, as instructed."

  Leviathan nodded solemnly and his minion returned to his task.

  With a maniacal grin, Austicon looked from his device to the mammoth stockpile of nuclear materials as he rubbed shoulders with Leviathan. "I've destroyed planets with chemicals and toxins, but this... this one is special." He looked to his silent general. "I've always wanted to blow up a moon."

  #

  Guy finished unsuccessfully haggling with a street vendor near the alley hiding the door to the Rusty Lizard. He momentarily considered joining his friends; his gut tightened with a rumble of protest.

  Looking back towards the larger market area Guy watched the flow of traffic for a few minutes. A mining shift change must've just taken place. Bone-weary workers clad in Halabella uniforms meandered through the regular crowd of the marketplace.

  A pack of uniformed men walked through the flow of traffic. Eyes forward, their gait had a certain purpose and intent destination. Everything about them rang untrue in Guy's heart. The Investigator glanced back to the other workers. Their skin was pallid and their shuffling steps were barely more than an amble.

  Guy walked into the crowd and tailed the subtly different team of miners. He plotted an intercept path through the moving marketplace and nearly brushed up against one as he cut a path across the area.

  His gut did another somersault. At the edge of the man's hairline, near his nape, a patch of skin bore a distinct Druze tattoo. Guy risked a look across at the other works as they passed by. They each had similar markings.

  After pausing at a booth and pretending to look at a seller's wares, Guy pulled out his communicator. He turned and followed the impostors at a healthy distance while activating his com. "Hey, team. I found the Druze. I'm tailing them now." He noted and reported a small loca
tion plaque attached to the hallway giving an address marker.

  Seconds later, Trigger and Rock dropped into step behind Guy.

  "Nice of you guys to join me."

  "Well, we happened to be in the area," Rock noted.

  "Yeah," Trigger teased, "shopping for smocks."

  Guy just looked at them for a moment. It sounded too weird to be false.

  They kept walking in silence as they followed the terrorists from a distance. Guy put the com near his face. "Are the rest of you guys coming or what?"

  He counted the clicks for confirmation as the rest of the planetside Dozen responded. Guy, Rock, and Trigger continued their stealthy pursuit.

  "Well what am I supposed to wear?" Rock finally defended with a stern whisper. "Sometimes I like to paint, alright?"

  #

  Leviathan watched Prognon Austicon complete the detonation apparatus and affix it to a collection of polonium fuel rods. Beneath the mask that obscured his hideous visage he smiled with his lipless mouth.

  He reached out with his psychic senses and checked the workers' progress with the laser drills. They'd already bored a massive tunnel into the floor, angling their cut through the bedrock and toward the planetary faults.

  Satisfied that the project remained on schedule Leviathan emerged from the stockpile. He left the warehouse operations in order to meet his secondary team. His master still had another objective to meet in order to please the Red Tree.

  His soldiers met him in the immense antechamber-style room that housed the warehouse district in the sublevels below Outpost 7. He checked his timepiece and stood in the central path to wait. Seconds passed and a voice yelled out, "Hey! You can't be here!"

  Leviathan turned his masked face to the security officer who approached, peace baton in hand. The helmed assassin pointed a gun-like, vacuum tube apparatus at the guard and fired a tight beam of electricity.

  The beam burned through the air and hit the officer in the chest. His torso burned with a flash of lightning and scorched most his upper body away. What remained of the man collapsed in a heap on the floor and silence returned.

  Within a few moments, a group of his loyal Druze rounded the corner and approached. Footsteps echoed past them at another hallway and Leviathan turned to find another group of cultic infiltrators who had taken another path.