Horizon Down: Galaxy Mavericks, #9

By Michael La Ronn

The fate of humanity hangs in the balance.

 

The team struggles to recover after a devastating attack by the Planet Eaters. Florian begins his unstoppable rise to power. The galaxy finds itself under attack by two long-time enemy races. Nothing is certain, and nothing is promised.

 

But the mavericks won't give up. And they won't rest until they stop Florian Macalestern and restore peace.

 

The final battle will determine the fate of the entire galaxy.

 

V1.0

• Language: English
• Publisher: Author Level Up LLC
• Release date: Mar 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386126119

Michael La Ronn

Science fiction and fantasy on the wild side! Michael La Ronn is the author of many science fiction and fantasy novels including The Last Dragon Lord, Android X, and Eaten series. In 2012, a life-threatening illness made him realize that storytelling was his #1 passion. He’s devoted his life to writing ever since, making up whatever story makes him fall out of his chair laughing the hardest. Every day. To get updates when he releases new work + other bonuses, sign up by visiting www.michaellaronn.com/list

Book preview

1

Devika Sharma picked her way through a trail of rubble, brushing dust from her face.

The goldenrod sky of Gargantua was bright, with red clouds flowing over the place where the Gargantua Medical Facility for Military Research had been.

She made her way toward a giant crater in the ground, a hole full of black earth, rebar and grass roots. Stretching several hundred feet wide, it looked as if someone had grabbed the medical facility and simply plucked it out of the ground.

A cloud of dust made her cough.

She rubbed her nose, and her hand was covered in sand.

Sand?

The area was covered in it. The soil must have been sandy.

She shook it off her hand and took a step forward.

Someone grabbed her arm.

Watch out. You don't want to step on that.

Keltie pulled her back.

Devika looked down.

A sharp metal edge lay below her boot.

Thanks, Devika said.

Michiko hopped on several large chunks of foundation as if she were playing hopscotch. She saw the crater and whistled.

Whoa…

Together, the three of them stood at the edge of the crater.

That's a long way down, Keltie said.

Michiko backed away.

Clark really made a mess, didn't he?

Devika clicked her tongue. She still couldn't believe the fight that had ensued here—Clark and another Planet Eater eating the entire facility and then mysteriously battling it out, disappearing in a white flash of light.

But not before Clark vomited up all the debris they were standing on.

This is a first, Devika said. "I don't know that the Planet Eaters have ever given anything back that they've eaten."

Michiko clasped her hands together.

That's because Clark listened to me, she said. Even after he went crazy, he listened.

Michiko hung her head and folded her arms.

Are you upset? Devika asked. About Clark?

Devika did feel a little sorry for Michiko. As annoying as she was, she built a relationship with Clark like a kid would with a pet. And if it hadn't been for her foolish attempt to save him, he might have killed more people.

No, Michiko said. I am at peace with myself. I am. In some sick and twisted way, I made it right.

Clark did vomit up some of the debris, Keltie said. I don't know for sure, but I'd say that was against Planet Eater protocol.

Sirens wailed through the sky, and police and ambulance ships descended upon the area.

That's our cue, Devika said, eyeing a helicopter that circled the crater.

They started to walk back to the GGC Horizon which was parked in the distance. The Galactic Guard ship’s silver exterior shone in the planet’s golden light.

A piece of rubble nearby shifted.

Then a voice moaned.

Help…help me…

The three looked at each other.

Then they dashed in the sound of the voice.

Over here, Devika said.

She saw a hairy leg sticking out from under a chunk of rock.

A man was pinned under a concrete slab.

Devika grabbed the bottom of the slab and lifted.

Keltie joined her, and together, they strained and lifted the rock off of the man and cast it aside.

The man groaned, reaching for his bleeding leg.

His clothes were caked in sand and dust and he stunk of sweat and body odor.

Michiko slid to his side.

Sir, you look like you’re in a lot of pain. I’d like to help, she said.

The man groaned again and nodded.

My name is Michiko, Michiko said, applying pressure to the leg. Keltie, get the ambulance ship and tell them to come over.

Keltie ran off toward a red ship with a siren on the top.

Devika knelt and studied the man.

Were you in the facility? she asked.

My leg, the man said. God, it hurts!

Focus on Devika for me, Michiko said. I’ll worry about your leg, okay?

Michiko pushed on the leg with all her might, straining.

What is your name? Devika asked.

Rex, the man said. Rex Olbertson.

Good to meet you, Rex, Devika said. It looks like you’re going to be just fine.

In the distance, a group of paramedics ran toward them. Drone bots carried a stretcher through the air.

Rex looked into the sky, squinted and cupped his hands to his eyes.

Where the hell am I? he asked.

He must’ve been delirious.

He’s losing a lot of blood, Michiko said. Those paramedics need to hurry.

She waved to them frantically.

What’s your job, Rex? Devika asked. Did you work in the facility?

Job, Rex said, laughing through pain. Ain’t got no job.

Ah, Devika said.

Keep me out of that forsaken hellhole, Rex said. I won’t go back!

Devika didn’t know what to say. The medical facility didn’t seem to her like a hellhole. Modern, neoclassical, and a tad on the boring side—but far from hellhole.

Well, you’re going to a hospital now, she said.

Hospital?

Yes, you’re going to get the best care in the galaxy, Devika said.

Bullshit, Rex said, groaning. They don’t care about us. They…give us spotlights to live like dogs. Screw your little medical assistance.

That’s no way to talk to someone who’s saving your life, Michiko said.

We’re just society’s rabble, Rex said. We’re the garbage you throw away to make yourselves feel good about—aaaaagh—

Michiko pressed hard on his leg intentionally.

That’s enough, she said. Maybe it’s better you don't talk.

The paramedics arrived. Michiko stepped aside as they tended to his wound and lifted him onto the stretcher.

Devika and Michiko watched as the drone bots carried the stretcher to the ambulance ship in the distance.

Across the field, more paramedics responded to other people trapped in the rubble.

I guess my nursing school education came in handy, she said, holding up bloody hands. I need to wash my hands. Gloves would have been ideal.

Let’s go back to the Horizon, Devika said. Something tells me this place is going to be evacuated soon.

Doesn’t make much sense, Beauregard said.

The Horizon flew over the rubble field. Police walked around the rubble, shifting items, looking for survivors. A thick cloud of dust rose up from the ground, coating the ship’s windows.

Beauregard turned the ship around and flew over the field a second time.

Is it just me, or does that rubble look a little weird to you guys? Will asked.

What about it? Devika asked.

Wasn’t the medical facility gray? Will asked. All the rubble down there is brown.

"There is a lot of dust," Keltie said.

Dust isn’t that brown, Will said. He tapped Keltie on the shoulder and pointed to a cluster of debris. It was dark brown. If I didn’t know any better, it almost looks like there are shingles down there. The facility didn’t have shingles. It was a flat roof with a black membrane. I know that for a fact.

Devika regarded the comment.

When you fly as much as I do, you get to know roofs, Will said. And those are residential shingles down there. Really bad, cheap shingles, too. If I’m wrong, punch me in the face.

I believe you, Devika said. But what good does it do us?

Hello, Will said. Did you see any houses around here?

He was right. There weren’t any houses for miles. And on a planet like Gargantua, there were plenty of shingled homes—it was one of the few planets in the galaxy whose soil could support traditional structures.

But something didn’t follow.

Michiko walked into the room, wiping her hands on a rag.

What’d I miss? she asked.

A big mystery, Keltie said.

The guy? Michiko asked. Yeah, he was weird. I don’t think he knew where he was. Couldn’t tell if it was the trauma or if he had mental issues.

Devika paced the bridge.

He kept mentioning that the medical facility was a hellhole, Devika said.

"That was strange, Keltie asked. Looked like paradise to me."

Beauregard maneuvered the ship away from the rubble field and started into space.

His radio beeped.

Galactic Guard, come in, a voice said. Sounded like police.

This is Petty Officer Romeo Beauregard.

Were you folks just on the ground? the voice asked.

Yes, Beauregard said. We’re sorry if we interfered. We are leaving now.

You didn’t interfere, the policeman said. You saved that guy’s life. But we’ve got a little problem.

How can we help? Beauregard asked.

We just got a report from the paramedics, and they’re worried about the guy’s mental health.

My acquaintances had the same concerns, Beauregard said. Was he a patient at the facility?

We can’t find any records of a Rex Olbertson in the entire Gargantua System, the policeman said. Neither can the doctors in the medical system. I’d reckon he’s not from here.

Hmm, Beauregard said. I see your problem.

Well, that’s not it, the policeman said. The paramedics pressed him some more, and he kept referring to a desert. Kept saying that he wanted to go back to the desert. Said he wanted to get back to his gang.

There are no deserts on Gargantua, Devika whispered.

Surely he was mistaken, Beauregard said.

Maybe, the policeman said. But the guy is claiming that he’s telling the truth. We’ve got investigators on the way. They suggested we widen our database search. So we did, and we found the guy.

Neighboring planet? Beauregard asked.

If you call Defestus a neighboring planet, sure, the policeman said.

Devika, Michiko and Keltie stared at each other, their mouths wide open.

2

Ren Flanahey tucked a pile of school books into her backpack.

She joined a stream of children into the dark hallways of Empire Middle School Hive Three Thousand and Two.

The hall sloped upward, and wrapped around in a large circle. The walls were orange and glistening like the walls of a honeycomb.

She walked quietly with the other students, who walked with sullen faces. A drone bot with a television flew overhead, and a teacher’s head appeared on the screen.

Students, as the weekend approaches, I would like you to take time to appreciate the glory of our empire.

The drone sped ahead, repeating the message.

Yes, we celebrate the glory of our empire, the children said mechanically.

Ren said the words without feeling them, without meaning them, like she had for seventeen years.

Someone nudged Ren.

Her friend, Harlow. Well, more than a friend.

He was built like a young soldier. Bald and tattooed on the face—swirls on his cheeks—he was buff and handsome.

Spaceship Calc was brutal today, he said.

Yeah, she said, running a hand through her hair.

She had spilled soda on her uniform at lunch, and there was a gruesome stain near her stomach. She turned so that he didn't see it.

Glory be to the empire, Harlow said.

Glory, Ren said.

When is your emergence? Harlow asked. I just got mine. I've been assigned.

Assigned.

Emergence.

The time when all of her friends were plucked away, sent onto career tracks in the military, teaching, or science fields. With the hive lottery system, she would never see them again.

She would never see Harlow again.

She knew she shouldn't have gotten attached. No one got attached. It made life easier when Emergence happened. But she'd done it, and now she felt pain, pain unlike anything she'd ever felt in her life. She wanted to cover her ears, to grab his hand, to run, far, far away, over the top of the hive city and into the flat plains so they could get away, be free, free—free—before the somber reality of adulthood sunk in. The somber reality that she was never free, never would be, and that her life was predestined.

I ship off tomorrow, he said.

Oh, she said.

They walked outside into the moonlight.

The hive city seemed to swirl up into the stars. The lights of embedded pod homes glittered against the earthen walls. The twin moons, red and yellow, were bright in the gray sky.

A line of pod trams waited. The children lined up and entered. The pods zipped away on circular tracks, upward into the city.

The air was crisp, the moonlight pale on her skin, and the goosebumps on her arms popped up the moment she walked into the night air.

This is goodbye, Harlow said. It's been great.

She sighed.

So you just leave? she asked.

They walked to a line.

It's better this way, Harlow said. We’re not even supposed to be dating. Or talking. Glory must first be to the empire.

Screw the empire, she whispered. What would it be like to live like they do in other galaxies? To be free?

Harlow shushed her.

You want to get us killed?

You didn't say that when we were alone yesterday, she said.

The military needs me, Harlow said. And I have to listen. We all do. Maybe you'll be chosen and we’ll cross paths in a few decades, Ren.

She turned away and ignored him.

Fine, she said. Goodbye.

Glory be to the empire, Harlow said.

She didn't reply.

She didn't want to say anything.

Her boyfriend of five weeks, who had kissed her already, was leaving.

A drone bot hovered over her and the teacher looked at her.

Glory be to the empire, she said reluctantly, and scowling.

When she turned away, Harlow was gone, disappeared into another crowd.

The line thinned out and she approached the pod tram, a silver ball designed for ten.

She climbed onboard with the other sullen children, and she became one of them.

There could be no tears.

There could be no emotion.

Such things from a minor were grounds for demerits against their parents.

Yet she couldn't help but wipe away a tear as she stepped off the pod tram.

She still hadn't received her Emergence date yet.

Her life hung in the balance.

Would she emerge? Would she be a sacrifice, cast into the deepest bowels of the hive?

She walked into the entrance of her caverned neighborhood. The walls were cool and thin, with pods glinting in the darkness.

She kept her head down as drone bots passed by, watching her every move. Watching everyone’s move.

She nodded to every one that passed, praising the empire.

When she arrived at a dead end where her family’s pod was, there was almost no moonlight and she had to strap on her headlight. She switched it on, and a beam of milky light illuminated the darkness. The walls crawled with moles and they scurried away, tunneling into the earth to get away from her.

Clods of dirt fell to the ground like quiet rain.

And then she saw them.

Sleek, white motorcycles parked outside her home pod. Three of them, along with a box transport drone.

Her heart stopped.

She walked slowly past the motorcycles, whose neon stripes glowed in the darkness. The box drone hovered and hummed. Its back doors were open, and it was empty.

How many times had she stared in the back of these drones, seeing other children transported into them? How many times had she winced when the doors slammed shut of their own accord?

She didn’t want to walk further. She didn’t want to go home.

She wanted to run.

But she heard the buzzing of a drone behind her. A circular metal eye hovered in the air several yards away. It stopped and watched her.

She gulped and took a step further.

Loyalty forced her ahead, made her pick up her feet toward her home pod.

The front door slid open and a stone-faced man stood in the doorway.

Get in, the man said.

Her hive father.

She quickened her pace.

There’s nothing to be scared of, he said. It’s not what you think.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Her hive father took her backpack and ushered her into the warm fullness of the pod.

Inside, in the living room, her hive mother sat on a couch with her hands in her lap. Her long, graying hair was tied behind her back, and her eyes were hard, stone hard. So many hive children had been taken from her. This would have been no different.

She’d known her hive parents for most of her life. They were constants in her life, even though she was taken from her biological parents when she was born. They were not cruel to her like some hive parents, but they were not kind, either.

Three soldiers stepped out of