literature

Dream Rising, Part 4

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"Good afternoon, Gentlemen. I'd like to thank you for responding so efficiently to our request."
"Yeah, well, the pay was good enough."
"What he meant to say," Kole said, butting in, "was that we're glad to have been on hand to help."
The elderly gentleman standing across from them did not seem amused by the comment. "I see. Well, if you have finished with your pleasantries, it's best that we move on."
The pair followed the man across the concrete landing strip, where a dim gleam of sunlight was cutting its way through the clouds. Kole stared up in wonder, surprised that even now, with the atmosphere practically radioactive itself, a little beauty could shine through.
"Mik, are you seeing this?"
Mik glanced up, but shrugged. "It's a star named Sol. You can get a better view of it once we're in the air again."
Kole shook his head. Sometimes he wondered why he even bothered.
As they entered the main SarCorp facility, Kole couldn't help but stare up at the huge ceilings of the main atrium. Never before in his life had he been in a building like this. So much open space, and yet all contained in an aluminum shell, which was further contained by the defensive fields outside, sheltering the facility from the artillery of neighboring corporations. In a way it awed him as much as the sun outside, but it also seemed a little wrong.
"I believe you'll find this mission is fairly simple," their guide, a small, wiry man named Reynolds, said. "We need a simple delivery from our facility here to one of our colonies. It's out of system; that's why the pay is so high. However, we're willing to let you travel via our Trans-warp gates, so it shouldn't be that huge of a hassle."
"What's the cargo?"
"Medical supplies," Reynolds said as they passed through the atrium into the mess hall. "It's an experimental colony, the first to be established out of system. While the experiment has been a success so far, they still aren't entirely self-sufficient, at least not for any high-end chemicals or such, so we still have to ship in supplies every now and then. Once they have the raw materials, they can synthesize most of what they need, but the raw samples degrade over time."
"So, just painkillers for the most part?"
Reynolds nodded. "Nothing really controlled; The worst we have is migraine medication. We do have an anesthetic in one of the crates, so that you know, but it is clearly marked. Obviously, we'd prefer it not damaged in the transport."
Kole nodded. "Of course."
"The down payment has been wired into your account, as we agreed, and I already have my men refuling your ship. While this is cutting down your initial payment, we are giving you the fuel at a great discount."
Mik grabbed a plate from the lunch line. "I appreciate that. Anything you can do helps us out a lot."
Reynolds smiled, his silver hair framing a delicate face. "We are happy to help. Now, eat your fill, and loading should be complete by the time you are finished. If you will excuse me, I have other business to attend to." The man bowed slightly and walked out, letting the door to the hall slam shut behind him.
After watching him leave, Kole turned and dug whole-heartedly into his meal. "Man," he muttered between bites, "It's been way too long since I've had hot beef and gravy."
"Forget the beef," Mik said, devouring the food himself. "I'm just happy we're eating something that's not our protein rations." He took a long drink of the glass of ice water next to him. "Or our recycled water."
"Hey, don't even get me thinking about that. I don't care how long you live on a ship, you'll never get used to drinking it knowing where it came from."
Mik snorted a little. "Kole, if a man tells you he'd rather drink recycled water than the real thing, he's one of two things: crazy, or a liar."
"Truth."
Although the pair took their time with their hot lunch, Kole knew they wouldn't be able to lounge around for long. They quickly finished off the last crumbs from their plates, before putting them on the dish line. With a quick nod, Kole led the way back out to the landing pad.
They arrived just in time to see the last crate make their way into the cargo hold of the old freighter. One of the workers, a tall man with huge muscles, made his way over to them, clipboard in hand. "You guys the owners of this ship?"
"I am, yes," Kole said, sounding more assertive than he felt.
"Need you to sign this paper, saying you've received the cargo." Kole did so quickly, not wanting to waste the man's time.
"Thanks. You should be all set then. Just ping the same navigation channel that brought you in here, and it'll safely get you out to orbit. We've got a pretty clear channel straight through the atmosphere here, thanks to the defense systems, and our neighbors haven't been feeling like target practice for quite some time, so you should be okay."
"Oh, well that's comforting to know," Mik said under his breath. Kole jabbed him in the ribs once with his elbow.
"Thanks for your help," Kole said, otherwise ignoring his partner. "We'll be launching immediately." The man nodded, then walked over to the other ships parked on the strip.
Mik was in no mood to hang around the planet now that he had his meal. Without warning, he stormed up the ramp leading into the ship, nearly shoving over one of the workers with the grav-trolley that had been loading crates. Kole jogged after him, closing the ramp once he was on board.
"Mik, what are you thinking? After all they've done for us, filling up the tank, feeding us, you're going to go throwing them around?"
"Look Kole, I can appreciate a good meal when it's in front of me, but other than that, I have no interest in sticking around here. You heard what the man said. At any moment, one of the other corporations could stick a bead on us and blow us out of the sky."
Kole smiled at him, grabbing his shoulder. "Look, even if they do, this ship is sturdy enough to take a missile shot. As long as they don't breach the engines, we should be fine."
"And if they do, we breach, and take out the better part of twenty square miles." He turned and made his way to the cockpit, stomping on the metal floors. "I don't like my odds!"
Kole sighed. Whatever. In these situations, it was best just to let him fume for a bit and come back once he had cooled off.
Not that it helped to be alone. When he was with Mik, he was usually able to ignore the nagging sound in the back of his mind, but alone, it came back to the forefront.
Today was the anniversary.
And once again, he had chosen to flee, to run from his past yet again.
Kole grimaced. He didn't like thinking about it, but returning to the station... it was going to be far too hard to retrace those steps.
He didn't need the reminder about the family he had lost. He didn't need to have the constant screaming in the back of his mind about how much he owed Mik's parents for taking him in after the attack.
He turned his attention to the crates of cargo sitting before him in the hold. Without much trouble, he was able to tie the crates down to the supports in the floor, ratcheting the straps tight.
With a slight crackle, Mik's voice came over the comm. "Pre-flight's complete. What's the status back there?"
He walked over, holding down a button on the console. "We're strapped in clean. I'll be there in a second."
"Gotcha." The console clicked once, indicating the connection had been broken.
Well, he thought to himself, let's hit the open skies.
Are the skies a refuge, or just another way to flee?

And the other question... is there a difference?


Previous Chapter: [link]
© 2010 - 2024 Alhon
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Stella-Shuriken's avatar
I'm enjoying this story. The mission isn't going to be all that easy is it?