Dark Vengeance Read Free

know, you’ve been given an assignment and the only other person in the world that knows anything about it is Bernard Porre?”
    “Well, now that you’ve put it that way…”
    “It’s the same for me. I only spoke to Porre, no one else.”
    “You actually think Porre’s setting us up somehow? He’s supposed to be Mr. Upstanding, even though he’s such a nuisance.”
    “Why only three days notice for a trip that will take more than a month there and back? How’d they know we weren’t going to be off-world, or having surgery or something?”
    “They are nosy, I think.”
    “I searched the net as soon as I was escorted home. There’s not a thing anywhere about the Electra having been refit and coming home in a few weeks.”
    “Maybe it’s a big surprise.”
    R.J. drank again. “Sir, I always love your impudent commentary, but there’s more going on here than meets the eye. I guarantee you that. Porre may not be doing anything really unethical, but he’s not telling us everything and this is not just about bringing the Electra back.”
    “Well, as it stands, we are going to have to get into an unfamiliar vehicle with strangers. Mother always warned me about that, but I see no way around it.”
    “Yeah! Why don’t we know anything about that? How big a ship is it? Who’s driving? What kind of trip will this be, exactly? Why do they just happen to be going our way?”
    “A three hour tour?”
    “Careful what you wish for.”
    “So what do we do, Mr. Holmes?”
    “We pack, my dear Watson. We pack and hope Moriarty isn’t doing the flying.”
     
    Two days later we stood outside the fence near the VAB at the Kennedy Space Center, watching a panicked ground crew trying to clear a no-go on our surface-to-orbit shuttle. Surface-to-orbit shuttles look very much like all-white motor homes sitting on pontoons. With all the little service doors hanging open on ours, it gave the impression of unreliability. We stood, each with a single duffle bag, looking like lambs for the slaughter. It was a particularly clear, bright day. The smell of salt air from the nearby beach was strong. The sky was particularly blue, not a cloud in sight. For once the grand blue sky was disconcerting, because somewhere beyond it an alien spacecraft awaited our arrival.
    When the umbilicals finally began to be pulled off, the mood of the service personnel changed to one of angry impatience. Our gate was hurriedly unlocked and opened. Threatening stares were ungraciously provided to indicate we should hurry. We climbed aboard, took seats, and were off the ground before we could strap in. Our light green flight suits quickly form fit around our bodies in the three-G ascent the pilots were allowing themselves. R.J. managed to look over at me and roll his eyes, his face sagging in the heaviness.
    It was very dark beyond the blue. There had been no time to secure our bags so they began to float around the cabin. I unbuckled and pulled myself forward to the flight deck where I knew the first sight of our new space friends would come into view beyond the forward view ports. For a moment it puzzled me that no stars were visible. It took another long moment to believe that the entire field of vision was being blocked by our ride.
    It was quite large, a polished dark green, so dark it almost blended with space. Given nothing for comparison, it had to be at least the size of a football field. The massive outline drew an elongated triangle, the body flat with rounded sides. A large tubular feature originated atop it at the center and ran all the way back to the stern with dozens of blackened view ports along the way. There was not much time to look. Our boys were maneuvering us alongside the midsection for docking.
    When the bumping and jerking finally ceased, and the hissing and rushing air equalized, the shuttle’s side door slid open to a snow white airlock. We glided around, gathered up our bags and pushed them in, then watched them crash to