Team Savant is on hiatus for a few weeks. Here is an adventure of an outlaw set three centuries into the future. Have fun as you follow the adventure of Tyson. To read the previous Team Savant story click here to go to Short Story: Big Trouble in Little Hela.
The
sun shone through the debris shield of his ship. The pilot’s shades Tyson wore
protected his eyes from the bright light.
With life support at minimal, the light became an unwelcome
furnace. The radiation from the light
reached unhealthy levels; however, thanks to his genetically enhanced, melanin
rich skin, the sun was the least of his worries.
He
gathered the two wires under the control panel and soldered them to the
motherboard. He moved quickly to the main power panel in the cargo hold. He
grabbed the railing, held on tight, pushed all of the air out of his lungs and
pulled the red lever. The lights went out, the air became nonexistent and
gravity ceased to exist. He would need to wait five minutes for a full reboot.
Tyson
hummed a song in his head. A lullaby. He had no idea why he knew—any song. He
never knew his mother and his taste in music leaned toward Jovian Rhythm and
Blues. When his wrist indicator flashed he pulled hard on the lever. Gravity.
Power. Oxygen, all returned instantly. He fell hard to the floor but
immediately rolled up and ran to the cockpit. He re-started the engine and the
main computer. Switching to manual control, a circular steering wheel appeared
from the floor of the shuttle. He tilted the steering column downward and the
ship gently shifted downward. He pressed a button and the ship streaked through
space. “Computer, complete a full systems check,” he said.
“Full
systems check complete.”
He
pushed the steering mechanism away. “Report.”
“Systematic
systems crash eminent.”
“How
much time?”
“Seventeen
United Planetary hours.”
“Tell
me how to stop the cascade.”
“You
cannot. You can only download my mind into another ship.”
“Closest
colony?”
“Mercury
is forty hours away at top speed… Tyson, serving you has been an adventure.”
“Don’t
be so quick to say goodbye,” Tyson said. He pushed back from the controls and
stood up. He walked into the cargo bay—his makeshift quarters. He pressed a
button and a bed shot out from the wall. He lay down and relaxed. “Computer…you
do know that if I can’t fix you that I will die out here too.”
“Yes.”
“I
will not die. Not like this. Never like this.”
“There
is a way for you to live, but you may choose death.”
“I
am allergic to dying, so tell me my options.”
“There
is a UP security post twelve hours away.”
“So
die or go back to Europa,” he said. “Death does sound appealing… Plot a course
for the security post. As soon as we are in range of their sensors download
your consciousness into a sustainable crystal.”
“What
are you planning?”
“Don’t
worry. I am not letting you go that easy.”
“You
don’t have a plan do you.”
“No.”
Within
ten hours two fighter pilots intercepted Tyson’s ship. Tyson put on a cloak to
cover his black and gold pilot’s jumpsuit, a moment after the ship landed in
the central bay. When he walked out the main doors, three men greeted him with
power rifles. A dark contrast to their silver body armor.
“Take
off the cloak, move forward and prepare to be scanned.”
Tyson
stepped forward. As soon as one of the officers took his cloak, the overhead
scanner bathed him with invasive rays.
“Your
bone and muscular density is twice as high as an earth born human. What colony
are you from?”
“Does
it matter?”
“Answer
truthfully or we will shoot you.”
“I
don’t have a home. I am a criminal and I would like to turn myself in. That is
all. I don’t really feel like having a conversation.”
“We
will find your identity as soon as we get a DNA sample. Take those glasses
off.”
“My
eyes are light sensitive,” Tyson said.
One
of the officers struck him in the back of his head with the butt of his rifle.
He then grabbed the shades and ripped them off. Tyson immediately covered his
eyes. The officers hit him until he stopped moving.
“Take
him to the holding cell until we are ready to process him,” one of them said.
“If he gives you any trouble, you may shoot him.” They proceeded to drag him to
a cell. For three minutes they dragged him along the metal floor. The light
reflecting off the metal floors were blinding. Tyson relied on his other senses
along the way to get his bearings. He could take out the two men, but doing so
would just cause even more trouble. He needed to be subtle. One guard pulled a string
of hair from his head.
He
needed to hurry.
It
would only be a moment before they found his true identity.
Once
Tyson was in his cell, he curled up in a corner. A post like this was
guaranteed to have thirty UP officers. Could he take them all? Once again, he
tapped into his senses; there was only one guard on duty. The guard, too small and
curvy to be a man, seemed almost disinterested in the job. He sniffed and
caught the musk of a woman. It was a sweet smell like stolen candy. Still he
was cautious. Even a single guard. Male or female could get lucky.
“Hey.
What’s up with your eyes?” she asked.
Tyson
held his smile in check. “My eyes are light sensitive.”
“Really?
Are your eyes genetically enhanced? Made for working in the adamantium mines?
“Well,
that was the intent,” Tyson said.
“What
do you mean?”
“Let’s
just say it didn’t go as planned.” He leaned back against the wall “Why are you
so curious?”
“I
don’t get to see much around here,” she said. “It’s rare that we even get a
prisoner around here. You may be the only decent conversation that I get.”
End of Chapter 1
Return next Saturday for Chapter 2 of Transfer.
NOTE:
You can buy my adult scifi novel Hearteless: A Journey to Second Earth @amazon or here.
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