Planet Bound

By A. Maire Dinsmore

Hundreds of years after the death of earth the Nations have built a thriving community of the lucky refugees who escaped the desolate planet on multiple space stations orbiting the atmosphere. The Global Air Defense has now finally achieved the ability for interstellar space travel, completing a space ship to travel the stars and find a new planet for the remaining human population.

To make their plan work, the GAD must trust an ally they've only ever treated as a second-class citizen: those left to fight to survive on earth.

Louise Wyndham, contact for the black market smuggling ring of Puget City, becomes the first planet-bound trainee enlisted in the GAD, rising quickly to graduate as the first planet-bound officer. But nothing can prepare her for the struggles of coming face to face with the ship-born their generations of preconceived opinions and prejudices about the planet-bound.

When the ship Hickory finds a planet that meets all of the criteria, Louise finds herself in a new fight; more than just a fight against her surroundings, more than just a fight to prove that she's capable―no matter where she came from. . . this is a fight for survival. Will the rest of the crew set aside their feelings? Or will they lead themselves, and humanity, into destruction?

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. Maire Dinsmore
• Release date: Feb 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781940247083

A. Maire Dinsmore

A. Maire (MOY-rə) Dinsmore writes Horror, Science Fiction, & Fantasy & was published in the 2011 and 2012 editions of Crypticon Seattle De-Compositions, taking first place in the 2012 writing contest. She has thee short stories [The Medallion, The Bond of Sisters and Crated Glory] in the anthology Blyssfully Abnormal. Her debut novel, Planet Bound, was published in December 2013 by Blysster Press. She is currently working on a Gothic YA series. When she is not writing, she serves as the High Priestess of Biohazard Party, running the show & keeping the madness in check. A. Maire Dinsmore is a frequent attendee of Sci-Fi/Fantasy and Horror conventions in the Northwest and will be attending Rustycon in January 2014, Norwescon in March 2014 and and is a guest author at Crypticon in May 2014.

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Website: www.amairedinsmore.com

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Planet Bound Printing History

Blysster Press paperback edition December 2013

Blysster Press e-book edition December 2013

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, business establishments, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Planet Bound

by A. Maire Dinsmore

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved

Copyright 2013 © A. MAIRE DINSMORE

Cover Art and Design by Alexandria N. Thompson © A.Maire Dinsmore 2013

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise including, but not limited to, photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. For information, contact Blysster Press at [e-mail]

ISBN 9781940247076

Printed in the United States of America

www.blysster.com

For Christian & Ashleigh

for giving me a reason to follow my dreams.

And also, for Brew

without whom I wouldn't be where I am today.

In Loving Memory

of

Bobbie DuFault

1958-2013

A. Maire Dinsmore's short stories can be found in:

Crypticon Seattle's Decompositions Anthology 2011

(horror story)

Crypticon Seattle's Decompositions Anthology 2012

(award winning horror story)

Blyssfully Abnormal

(fiction, fantasy & sci-fi stories)

Available for purchase from Blysster.com and everywhere books are sold

PROLOUGE

Her palm itched. Nothing good ever came when her palm started to itch. Frowning slightly as she glanced down at her hand, Louise discreetly satisfied the itch on the rough canvas-like cloth of her pants. The greyish makeshift cloak was drawn up around her head, masking her freckled, tanned skin. It also covered her hair, hiding the telltale red that was dulled by the layers of dust that permeated everything. Her eyes were further shielded from sight, protected by a pair of shoddy goggles which had clearly seen better days.

A metal screech echoed through the transport car. The sound was followed by the harsh smell of metal as dying brakes attempted to slow the speeding transport hurtling itself beneath Puget City.

Usually, the streets above were filled with droves of people bustling about their day or shopping at one of the many portable stalls. If you knew which vendor to talk to, you could even get in touch with the Underground—the black market of Puget City. Through that contact, a person could get their hands on anything from real food to weapons to a way out of the city.

Louise was that contact. Her job was easy. Acquiring the things people wanted most and were willing to pay almost anything for. The price always came with a hefty mark-up that went straight into the pocket of her adopted grandfather, Roger Wyndham, the man who ran the show.

What she both loved and hated most about being the contact were the emotions that crossed people's faces when meeting with them for the first time. She could read them like pages in a book now—disbelief at her age, dismay thinking they'd placed their trust in the wrong group. Fear that the dream of whatever it was they so desired was soon to be dashed. Horrific dread as they wondered if they were to be left both broke and empty-handed, or worse: handed over to the P.C. officials.

That's how these meetings always started. They all ended the same, too. With Louise coming through and producing. Oftentimes, the client was so shocked with her work they didn't squawk at a last minute mark-up in price; padding always put her grandfather in a better mood.

Louise pushed herself deeper into the corner, preparing for the stomach-dropping curve coming next on the track. Though her eyes were carefully trained on the dirty floor before her, she knew the few other passengers were following their own traditional practices. She could hear the grunts, groans, and one sharp intake of breath as the transport attempted to unseat them on the sharp corner.

The Dry Lakes District stop came a few moments later. When the doors opened with a click and a soft swish, Louise was the first off the car. The air was hot everywhere, thanks to the recycling processors and dust. It was heavy with the metallic twinge, unrelenting and oppressive.

Most of the human population had died with the planet, unable to survive when the temperatures rose and the water dried up. Clean air was produced by machine rather than photosynthesis. The majority of the survivors escaped when they could, relocating themselves to the only other option available—massive space stations orbiting the Earth.

The corridor leading to the street was dimly lit and stunk, alcoves for maintenance having been claimed by the lowest dredges of the population even the officials ignored. Most were curled under threadbare blankets or cloaks like Louise's, and a few leaned against the corridor wall, harassing those who passed for handouts of credits.

One dirty arm extended toward Louise had the telltale signs of 'phine. Abuse of the badly-diluted street drug left blotches of reddened skin surrounding puncture marks and thick veins shadowed in places with dark purple bruising.

Though she told herself not to look, her gaze traveled up the afflicted arm until her eyes met the deadened gaze staring back at her. Louise swallowed back a wave of revulsion. She skirted the outstretched fingers as she bent her head, letting her long strides distance herself from the figure. It was all she could do to ignore the frantic, whispering panic at the back of her mind.

Bursting through the doors to the station, Louise absently fingered the tattoo on her forearm as she glanced up to determine where the sun hung in the dust-filled sky. She had a meeting to get to.

Making a wide circle around the vendor booths, Louise avoided the evening crowd. Large brick buildings with faded signs and crumbling features lined both sides of the street. She glanced around quickly to ensure she wasn't being followed before she faded into the shadowy darkness of the alley between two of these ancient behemoths.

Crouching, Louise slipped through a basement window, avoiding the broken glass around the edges. She landed lightly on her feet, bending her knees and bracing herself against the wall with her hands. Holding her breath, Louise paused for a long moment, waiting for the sound of movement from the shadows surrounding her. Once she was confident she was alone, she stood and pulled the hood from her head.

Like the street above, the basement was littered with debris and heavy with an eye-watering stench. These were the sort of places that made the best meeting points—those places others avoided or had forgotten existed.

Louise turned down the hallway, the soles of her boots barely making a sound as she picked her way on a practiced and familiar pattern through the trash. Past a slightly ajar door, a room lit by softly flickering light waited. Louise squinted against the change in light as she entered. Her immediate attention was on a lone figure leaning against a far wall as he watched her.

Charlie, Louise said softly, stopping in the middle of the room. Her cloak now flowed against her muscular frame, it would be easy for her to draw the gun resting in the hostler under her arm should this meeting go awry.

Wyndham, he replied, pushing himself off the wall and plunging a hand in his pocket.

The space between her shoulders tensed as his hand reemerged. Thankfully he had nothing more than a key he tossed in her direction.

What time? she asked as she caught the key. She glanced at the container number before she knelt and slipped the key into the side of her boot.

Seven.

Charlie was never one for socializing but Louise knew better than to give him a hard time about it. He might not have been one for small talk but he certainly had a reputation for holding grudges and taking revenge for even the smallest of slights.

Then you'll have your cut by nine, she said. Be at the last table. She waited for his nod then backed out of the room, keeping one eye on Charlie.

Louise climbed a ladder in an empty elevator shaft on the opposite side from where she'd entered. At the top, she exited through a blown-out hole in the wall, dropping onto the sidewalk behind a set of pillars holding up the transport rails.

Re-wrapping her cloak as she walked, Louise headed straight for a building a few blocks away. She didn't bother to replace the goggles, simply pulling the cloak over her head as she crossed the street in long strides.

Voices were muted inside the dining room; the people seemed dull and lifeless as they sat hunched at the array of tables. Louise stalked through the room to the kitchens where her grandfather had built a small office.

Come in, he said through the door as she knocked.

When she entered, Louise was taken aback by the presence of two P.C. officials standing before his desk.

Evening, Rog, Louise said as she crossed the room to hand him the day's pay, staring hard. How was your day?

Fine, he responded as he shoved the credits into a pocket, avoiding her gaze. Go on home; I'll be upstairs shortly.

Louise darted her attention to the two officials who were watching her intently. The skin on the back of her neck crawled under their scrutiny. Only too glad to put as much distance as she could between them, Louise left.

The door to their small apartment upstairs unlocked with a sharp shake of the handle and a swift kick to the lower corner—a system Roger had devised himself.

Louise deposited the cloak and holster in a chair, glancing at the kitchen. Though her stomach growled, she found herself too nervous to eat. Yes, even officials used the Underground, but never so publicly. Usually, they used a third party to protect themselves in case anyone was stupid enough to get caught. That they were here in person was not a good thing.

It seemed like hours before she heard footfalls in the hallway and the door burst open in its usual manner. Louise stood in the middle of the room, hands on hips, awaiting explanation. Roger scowled when he saw her, shaking his head and muttering under his breath as he passed.

Can't even give a man a breath to relax, damn women.

Stuff it, Roger, snapped Louise. What is going on?

The shipment of rice Yuri was bringing got pinched and he got loose in the lips to try and ease his punishment. The words came out in a rush as Roger leaned against the counter in the kitchen. They came down to explain the options available.

Louise felt the blood leave her face as she sagged, grasping the back of a chair for support. If Roger was banished, who would she live with? Her own parents were dead and Roger wasn't even an actual blood relative. She had no one else and a year left before she was legally an adult. She'd be handed over to the officials and then—

Louise's head snapped up and she peered intently at Roger. Wait, what? she asked, going over again what he had just said. Something was off. Louise felt her stomach go cold as she watched Roger's eyes dart about the room, unable to look at her. What do you mean, explain your options?

Roger didn't respond, instead turning away from her as he cleared his throat. Louise knew what that meant. It was Roger's tell—he had something bad to tell her and didn't want to do it.

Damn it, she exploded, slapping the back of the chair with the palm of her hand. What did you do?

I found a way for you to follow your dreams, he said defensively. You should be thanking me.

Louise's eyes closed. What do you mean? she asked softly, though she had an idea. Dread filled her stomach as she waited for an answer.

As a child, she'd wanted to be an explorer, like the books she'd read in the old library before it had collapsed. Her aspirations had been crushed when her mother told her space stations didn't travel and the Global Air Defense had no use for the planet-bound on their ships. They only selected the ship-born for those ranks. The ship-born never came on planet.

Planet-bound made terrible recruits, she was told. They adjusted poorly to artificial gravity and tended to be unruly, generally thought of as being untrustworthy, as well.

Seems they're looking for some planet-bound recruits, Roger answered.

Louise's eyes popped open at the words, then narrowing as she glared across the room at Roger. If you're fucking with me I'll—

I'm not, he replied.

What about the business? she asked, swallowing hard as she stared at him.

I get to keep the business running and they take a 30% cut of annual profits. I have to find a new contact but doing so shouldn't be hard. Besides, you stay here much longer and you'll be addicted to 'phine. If you aren't already, that is.

His words wiped the last traces of a smile from her face, bringing back the frantic, whispering panic. The image of the 'phine junkie at the station flashed across her vision.

I'm not addicted, she said at once, crossing her arms over her chest.

Really? Roger smiled, his eyes harsh as he strode across the room and grabbed her wrist. What is this then?

Pushing the sleeve of her shirt upward, he revealed a dark tattoo on the inside of her wrist. A series of inter-connecting circles and points with a strange dot in the direct center. Pressing his thumb against the dot, Roger watched as a vein line popped up in its place.

Louise wrenched her