Rescuing Mara's Father, a science fiction adventure

By D.M. Burton

Her father is gone! Taken by the Queen of Compara’s agents. Mara has to rescue him before the Queen tortures and kills him.
Instead of the kind, loving father she’s always known, he’s become demanding, critical, with impossible expectations—not just as Father but also as the only teacher in their frontier outpost. Mara would rather scoop zircan poop than listen to another boring lecture about governments on Central Planets. Give her a starship engine to take apart or, better yet, fly, and she’s happy. Now, he’s gone.
Never mind, they’ve had a rocky road lately.
Never mind, Father promised she could go off planet to Tech Institute next month when she turns fifteen, where she’ll learn to fly starships.
Never mind, she ran away because she’s furious with him because he reneged on that promise. Father is her only parent. She has to save him.

Along with her best friend, eleven-year-old Jako, and his brother 15-year-old Lukus, Mara sets off to find her father. Her mentor, old spaceport mechanic, seems to know why the Queen captured Father. In fact, he seems to know her father well. But, does he tell her everything? Of course not. He dribbles out info like a mush-eating baby. Worse, he indicates he’ll be leaving them soon. And Lukus can’t wait to get off our planet. Mara’s afraid they will all leave, and she’ll be on her own. Despite her fears, Mara has to rescue her father.

• Language: English
• Publisher: D.M. Burton
• Release date: Mar 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9780999045244

D.M. Burton

Diane Burton combines a love of mystery, adventure, science fiction, and romance into writing romantic fiction. She met her own hero on a blind date and it was love at first sight—for her. It took a little longer to convince him. They have two children and five grandchildren. After following her husband's job from Detroit to Missouri, Detroit again, Southwest Michigan, and Chicagoland, Diane and her husband currently live West Michigan.

Book preview

There you are! Jako kneels next to me, his urgent voice and torchlight in my eyes wake me up.

I gasp, my heart racing. I must have fallen asleep. I was dreaming about being chased.

I've been looking all over for you! He lowers his torch and scoots back.

As I sit up, I shove my hair out of my eyes. My braid came undone while I was sleeping. Automatically, I reach up and use my fingers to comb through my long hair. Jako is breathing hard and heat rises off his small body.

Why were you looking for me? I ask as I rebraid my hair.

I was afraid they got you, too. He gasps for breath. I didn't see you when they took him on board, so I ran back to your house. The Dunpus brothers were laughing about how the goons hauled you away, screaming and crying. I knew they were lying. You wouldn't cry. His eyes grow wide. You should've seen their ship, Mara. It was so cool. It was a—

Hold on. Took who?

Isn't that why you came up here? To get away from them?

Them who? I might be awake, but my mind is still muzzy. Slow down. You aren't making any sense.

Jako grabs my arm. Your father, Mara. Coalition goons arrested your father.

RESCUING MARA'S FATHER

A Science Fiction Adventure

By

D.M. Burton

Text copyright © 2019 Diane Burton

All Rights Reserved

Cover Design by Creative Author Services

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold 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 your favorite online vendor and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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 or locales is entirely coincidental.

CONTENTS

Dedication

1 - Starting a riot

2 - Running away

3 - Lost in the mine

4 - Going after Father

5 - Gang attack

6 - Lost mentor

7 - Company calls

8 - Mistaken for a boy

9 - Danger ahead

10 - Home of evil spirits

11 - Look out, Queenie, here we come

12 - A fugitive

13 - Compara

14 - Prisoners

15 - Rebel headquarters

16 - An offer they can't refuse

17 - The dragon's lair

18 - A secret passageway

19 - The truth, maybe

20 - My cousin takes me for a ride

21 - Finding my friend

22 - Don't trust anyone

23 - I have a family!

24 - The end of the beginning

Acknowledgements

About the author

DEDICATION

To Rachel, Robert,

Kora, Alex, and Paul

You bring so much joy into my life. This book is for you.

ONE

STARTING A RIOT

Another boring class on another boring day in my boring life. Nothing ever happens here at Raythos Outpost #3, the most boring place on the planet. I can't wait to leave. Just three tendays and I'll be off to Pamyria Tech. Then I won't have to listen to Teacher drone on about governments of the Central Planets.

…democracy, confederation, autocracy…

Blah, blah, blah. I've heard this lecture a thousand times already. Teacher is only going over it because Perfect Lukus missed the other nine hundred and ninety-nine times. He's fifteen—a year older than me—my best friend's brother and a pain in the butt. He only comes to class when his work in the stable is done. Lucky him. I'd rather shovel zircan poop than sit through another history or government lesson. Bo-ring.

Of course, where I'd really rather be is in the pit at spaceport taking apart the engine of a Gilean Cruiser or, better yet, at Pamyria Tech learning how to fly one. I can't wait. It's bad enough this class comes after Mid-Day Meal. The sun shines through the closed window, and guess who's sitting in its beam? If the window was open, the fresh air wouldn't help. Just more heat, making me more drowsy.

. . . Mara?

How in Smilian's Pit does Teacher always know when I'm not listening? Reluctantly, I get to my feet. Teacher insists we stand when speaking like we're in a real classroom on a Central Planet instead of Teacher's study in a mining village on the Outer Rim. Teacher's desk is in one corner, and the eight of us older kids sit in two rows, one in front of the other, our comp pads for note-taking on our laps.

Usually, I sit in the back row with my buddy Jako. Today, the others got there first, and I had to sit in front. Lukus always sits in the front row whether or not he comes in late, like today. His light brown hair is slicked back and wet, as if he's just showered. He missed the linguistics and mathematics lessons which were a lot more interesting, where I always know the right answers. Now, he gets to see me humiliated. Not that I care what he thinks of me. I don't.

Teacher waits, his expression stern, while I try to figure out what question he asked. Part of me wants to crawl under the chair and hide. Instead I continue to stand, back straight, head up, my face burning hotter than the Laborian Desert.

I stare back at Teacher, who knows I don't want to be here. I'm just about the only kid in this outpost who has to go to school. No, make that the only kid on this planet since Outposts #1 and #2 don't have any kids. Wish I lived over there. As far as I'm concerned, learning history or government is a waste of time. Now, learning the inner workings of a Gilean Cruiser would be a lot more interesting.

Behind me, Jako whispers, Example of autocracy.

He always has my back. He's the best friend a girl could have, even if he is only eleven.

CoalitionPlanetComparaintheCentralDistrict, I say in a rush and sit down.

And why is the government of Compara considered an autocracy? Teacher looms over me. Since the study is so small, he actually looms over all of us. He's so tall his dark brown hair nearly brushes the ceiling. He stands as still as a soldier, back straight, his dark green eyes boring into me.

His hair and eyes are like mine, only darker. We're a minority at this outpost. Most people have light hair the varying colors of grain in the fields, and their eyes range from pale blue to a light gray. Our green eyes set us apart, as if we don't belong here.

I keep my head down and sharpen the pleat in my dress slacks. Most of us wear our best clothes to class. Those of us who have good clothes, that is. Being orphans on their own, Jako and Lukus don't have good clothes. Still, they always wear clean pants and shirts, even if they are mended in places, especially Jako's. His clothes are Lukus's hand-me-downs. Even Teacher wears dark gray slacks and a white shirt, more formal than the normal work clothes other men wear in town. He says appropriate clothing is essential to making a good impression.

Right. Like I want to make a good impression on the kids I've grown up with.

Teacher clears his throat, waiting for a response. If I don't look at him, maybe he'll pick on someone else. It's not like I don't know the answer. He's drummed it into our heads all year, as if knowing how Comparans are governed is the most important topic in the galaxy. Big whoop.

Lukus stands. Teacher, may I attempt to answer your question?

Show off.

At Teacher's nod, Lukus explains. Technically, Compara is an absolute monarchy which is a more specific type of autocracy. The Queen Regent assumed absolute power after the king and both their sons died fifteen years ago. She dissolved the Body of Representatives and rules by intimidation and terror.

Very good. Teacher smiles. When he does, his eyes brighten. Unlike some students, you have been listening,

Gee, you think he means me?

Thank you, sir. Lukus sits, alert, eager to get on with the rest of the lesson.

Teacher's Pet, I sneer, though I don't say it out loud. I could've been the focus of Teacher's smile if I'd answered. I don't want to show off in front of the other kids. Most are my friends, and I don't want them to think I'm better than they are. Lukus doesn't have a problem with demonstrating what he's learned.

How does he know this stuff? Maybe he only missed nine hundred and ninety-eight lectures. Okay, how's this for irony? I have to be here all the time and hate it. He wants to and can't because of his jobs. He's the janitor at a boarding house in the morning, stable hand in the afternoon, and dishwasher at night. You'd think he'd want to just chill when he finishes early. Instead, he comes to school. Weird, huh?

The four little kids in the other corner of the study are getting restless. They must have finished the exercises Teacher gave them before he started teaching us older ones. He ignores them and asks us to identify the ideal form of government.

Like the others, except Lukus, I keep my head down so I won't be called on. Once again, he stands. The rest of us sit back in relief. Lukus has Teacher's attention, which is just fine. The ideal form of government is one where all the inhabitants have a voice and are treated equally.

I snort then mutter, Like that's ever going to happen.

Jako yanks my braid and hisses at me to shut up.

Teacher pins me with his stare. Mara, you have something to add?

I can explain what Mara means. Lukus is still standing and according to class protocol, I shouldn't have spoken. Civilizations strive for the ideal. However—

I can do my own explaining. I ignore class rules and stand without waiting for Lukus to sit. Out here on the Rim, the only thing that matters is who's rich enough or strong enough to rule. Might makes right. The Central Planets with their Coalition Security are light years away. They don't care about us. Why should we learn about them or how they rule? All we have to know is who's in charge here, and that's the mining company.

I sit quickly, surprised at my own outburst. Not as surprised as the rest of the class, let alone Teacher. He gives me a look that says I'm going to hear about this later. I am so glad I only have three more tendays of this. At Pamyria Tech, I won't have to learn useless information about the Coalition and especially about Compara. I'll learn important stuff about starship engines. Three more tendays. Just three tendays. And I am gone.

The little kids were quiet during my rant. Now, they're whispering and shuffling. Teacher finally pays attention to them. Primarians, you are dismissed. They can't leave fast enough. I know exactly how they feel.

Teacher?

I shift around in my chair to look at Jako. He never voluntarily speaks during class, unlike his brother, Lukus-Know-It-All. Jako is even standing. He shoves his blond hair out of his eyes, a gesture imitating his brother. Why do we have to learn stuff we'll never use? Manager says we don't need to know more than to read and write Arthos.

In linguistics class, we learned that Arthos, the language used throughout the Rim, is a combination of the home languages of the early explorers. Besides learning how to read and write in Arthos, we're learning to speak Coalition Standard, and even Tumie, the language of the desert nomads here on Raythos. Practical stuff. Not useless information about planets we'll never have contact with.

Wilanda, who sits between me and Lukus, doesn't stand when she speaks. That's galactic garbage. Manager doesn't know anything. He's so stupid he has to have Teacher read letters from Mining Headquarters and write his reports.

One of the boys whose father and brother work in the mines defends Manager. Things go downhill from there. Wilanda's right, though. Because Teacher is fluent in many languages, his official job is translating correspondence from the Central Planets. He just volunteers to teach. No one even cared about school until some parents found out he was teaching me Standard.

Soon everyone—except Jako and me—is standing and shouting at each other. Some defend Manager and others Teacher. Lukus shakes his head at the chaos but doesn't interrupt.

That's enough for today. Teacher dismisses the class while giving me a look. He's always after me to contribute to class discussions. The one time I do, chaos breaks out. Is that my fault?

Lukus asks Teacher a question, so I figure it's best to exit quickly with the rest of the class. Once we're outside, Jako punches my arm. Are you ever going to learn to keep your mouth shut?

I punch him back. Yeah, I saw how well that works for you. Three more tendays, and I won't have to worry about that.

He picks up a rock and hits the same spot on the back of our shed he always aims at. So, you're really going, huh?

Yeah, I can't wait. I'm skipping down the worn path, my long braid whipping back and forth across my shoulders.

You don't have to sound so happy about it.

But, I am hap— Holy hican. He doesn't want me to go. I never thought about that. Hey, listen. I'm sorry about—

No problem. I'm glad you're going to get to do what you want. Then, he brightens. You going to 'port? I heard a Vulpian transport came in this morning. Have you ever seen one?

Yeah. Basco let me go inside one. When his mouth turns down, I add, That's a good idea. I haven't seen one in a while.

A sudden breeze whips up the dust on the poor excuse for a backyard, and I stop skipping. I glance up at the darkening sky then at the clothes hanging on the line close to the house. I'd better take them in before it rains. I have to get the laundry first. I'll catch up with you.

I take the clothes in through the side door, not the one to the classroom. If I hurry, I can leave them on my bed and be off before Teacher turns into Father.

It's like living with two different people. In the classroom, his study, he insists I set an example for the others and call him Teacher. There, he's a stern taskmaster. In the rest of our house, he's Father, warm and caring. At least, he used to be. Lately, he changed. Now, even at home he's demanding, and nothing I do is good enough.

I can hear Lukus talking to him, so I know I have time to change from my school clothes into work clothes—sturdy workpants, one of Father's cast off short-sleeve shirts and my scuffed boots. When we get to spaceport to see that transport, maybe Basco will have some work for me. Repairing starship engines is dirty work. My dark gray pants and shirt won't show the dirt, grease or fluids.

On the way through the kitchen, I check on the hican stew I started cooking this morning. The meat from the large, broad-shouldered animals that pull the ore cars in the mine is tough. But if it cooks slowly, the meat becomes tender and the stew tasty. The aroma has been making my mouth water all afternoon. I give the stew a stir and replace the lid.

Spaceport is at the far west end of the village, an easy ten-minute walk. I cut through the alley between Main and Back Street. As I round the corner of the mercantile, I run into a cloud of dust. The dry season has been drier than usual. If the clouds actually bring rain tonight, everyone will be grateful, especially the farmers. But the dust cloud I see isn't made by the wind whipping sand between the buildings.

No, it's a fight. A one-sided fight. Three against one. Since the three are the Dunpus brothers—meaner than vipers and stronger than hicans—and the one is Jako, I wade in. Galactic garbage, he's just a little kid. The brothers are around my age. Two are older, one younger, I think. They don't come to school. Their father says it's a waste of time. I'm not sure if I ever heard their names. Jako and I call them by numbers.

They are a lot bigger than me, but I don't hesitate. I'm tall for my age, but what I lack in bulk I make up for in cunning, thanks to Father's self-defense lessons. It's sort of ironic that he taught me offensive moves, too, considering his other job is mediator for the village.

I leap up and kick the back of the knee of the oldest brother. I'm wearing stout boots so I'm sure he'll go down. He does and hits his head. While he lies there dazed, the middle brother dances around so I can't kick him. He must have seen what I did to Dunpus #1. I jump on #2's back. That gives Jako a fighting chance with the youngest. I wrap my forearm around Dunpus #2's neck and hang on while he tries to shake me loose. If I press hard enough on his throat, I could choke him. Never mind he's a bully, I just can't do that.

Jako is trouncing Dunpus #3, who's squealing like a baby. Jako is small and fast. He whups that kid's butt. Dunpus #1 starts to get up. Jako tackles him.

Wham. Dunpus #2 just slammed himself backward into the stone wall of the mercantile. That wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't between him and the wall. I should pay attention to my own adversary. The impact sends me slumping to the ground. I lose my breath. By the time I get it back, he's on me. He has no compunction about choking me. I buck and twist and finally get in a lucky kick. He reels sideways. I've got him.

I straddle him, my knees grinding into his upper arms. I grab his hair and slam his head into the dusty ground. While he's dazed, I say, Leave Jako alone. Hurt him again and you're planetary poop. Understand? I slam his head into the hard-packed dirt again.

He understands, Mara. Stars and asteroids, it's Father. He lifts me off the stunned boy. Lukus does the same to Jako who really cleaned Dunpus #1's clock.

The Dunpus brothers stagger to their feet. They look at the four of us and stumble backward in their haste to get away.

Jako yells, Yeah, run, you galactic garbage. Go back to your farm. He looks over at me and grins. We done good, didn't we? He holds his hand up in the air, and I slap it.

Lukus grabs his brother's shoulders. Haven't I told you to stay away from those guys? You have no sense.

Hey, I didn't start it, Jako says.

Lukus doesn't answer, just grabs the back of Jako's shirt and leads him away.

Jako, Lukus, I call after them. You want to come for supper? I made hican stew.

Jako twists around. His shirt, one of Lukus's castoffs, slips down his shoulder. Yeah, that's great. I love—

No, thanks, Lukus says. We have food.

Practically dragging Jako, he heads for the hills. The tunnels in the abandoned mines are home to many orphans. They jealously guard their territory, partly out of fear that others will steal their meager belongings and partly because of the gangs that roam the foothills. Jako's my best friend, but he's never shown me where he lives.

You still have not learned. Father rests his hand on my shoulder.

I didn't offer them food this time. I invited them to dinner.

To Lukus, it is the same. He is very proud. He is also upset because Jako could have been hurt worse. However, when I said you haven't learned, I did not mean about your offer to dinner. I was referring to the fight. He tsks at me. You are a mess. He tucks the hair that's straggling out of my braid behind my ear. His effort doesn't do much good. Let us go home. We have much to talk about.

* * *

Father makes me sit on a chair in the kitchen because the light's better in there. He is gentle as he cleans my scrapes and bruises. He's almost finished when I see his lips thin and his eyes harden. He tilts my chin and pulls aside the neck of the old shirt I'm wearing.

You have bruises on your throat. That— He calls the bully a filthy name. I'm surprised. He never swears or calls anyone bad names.

What he does next surprises me even more. He kneels next to me and pulls me into his arms. I can't remember the last time he hugged me. He strokes my hair, and I think this is how it used to be . . . when he loved me. Tears prickle my eyes, and my throat thickens.

Abruptly, he pushes me away and stands. I want him to come back, to hold me again. To be the warm, loving Father he used to be. He doesn't. I concur with your little friend. You did well. However, you could have been killed. Those Dunpus boys are mean, the father meaner. Stay away from them.

But they were beating up Jako. It wasn't fair.

Father walks over to the stove and lifts the lid of the large pot. You have a good heart. He stirs the stew. You are very much like your mother. She would have been proud of you.

He rarely talks about my mother, who died giving me birth. When