Salvage

By Frank Carey

You can run and you can hide but the past will eventually catch up with you.

A mistake made over forty years ago has returned to haunt Joseph Dombrowski. Once a world-renowned geneticist, Joe now works in space as an interplanetary tow truck driver. His idyllic life is interrupted by the return of a horror that he created. He must stop this threat to Earth and the other planets in the Confederation before it's too late.

If you like tech-heavy sci-fi, relatable characters, and stories of family and redemption, you'll love Salvage, the third book in Frank Carey's Parthenon saga.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frank Carey
• Release date: Oct 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393560005

Frank Carey

Frank Carey has been formally writing and publishing works of science fiction since late 2013. Over the years prior, he had dabbled in various forms of writing including haiku poetry, but that all changed when he and his wife, Jo, decided to try their hand at writing and self-publishing. Since then, he has written and published a collection of flash fiction and short stories, two anthologies, a pentalogy, and a trilogy. All his work, to date, has been in the science fiction genre. Most of his stories take place about two centuries in the future when Earth joins the League of Planetary Systems. Many of his protagonists are strong females. He is an inveterate pantser who believes the story will go where the story wants to go. Frank’s background includes degrees in physics and extensive work as a scientific programmer and technologist.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The Security Team leader looked down the corridor through his night vision goggles and saw nothing. Switching to infrared, he could see the dim red blobs of warm bodies through the wall at the far end. He tapped his earpiece. This is Tiger. I have eyes on eight tangos in the room at the end of the corridor. Captain Vincent, how many are we missing?

Four. If they're not part of the pack, either they haven't changed yet or something else is happening. I suggest we retreat and nuke the site, Captain Victor Vincent replied.

Captain, you're kidding, right?

I am not known for my sense of humor, Major Comminski, sir.

Doctor, those twelve individuals represent billions of dollars spent on research. My orders are to bring in alive as many as I can, so what do you suggest we do to accomplish that goal?

Run away or you, me, and the rest of the team will die.

Other than that?

If you go in there, the other four will join you to protect the eight. You really don't want to be there when that happens.

Sir, my people are the best of the best. We've trained for this. We can handle this.

With all due respect, sir, I think the captain of the Titanic said exactly the same thing after the iceberg bit a hole in his ship.

Are you planning on joining us, Captain?

Silence.

Captain Vincent, respond!

Captain Vincent strode past the captain like he was taking a stroll through a park. As he walked, spines grew out of his back while he morphed into an etosia.

Dammit! Team! Combat formation! Move!

The security team ran after Vincent with weapons hot. When he came to the room containing the eight etosia, he walked through the wall as if it were tissue paper while screaming as no banshee ever could. The eight etosia inside turned to do battle as he grabbed one and threw it through a wall while the security team entered the room firing trank darts. Unfortunately for them, the drugs they injected, drugs which could floor a horse, had no effect on them. Vincent continued to scream and kill. Even with Vincent's help, security team members fell one by one to the onslaught. When he thought he was finished, the eight etosia hiding in the wings mounted a coordinated attack. Just as Vincent was sure he was going to die at the hands of the last etosia, their dying team leader shot the thing in an eye, killing it instantly.

Medic! Vincent yelled over his radio as he cradled the team leader in his mutated arms.

You were right, Captain, we should have run away and let them nuke the place." Then he died, leaving Vincent to say a silent prayer for the fallen.

###

Area 52 Director Doctor Hans Jorgenson strode around the room like a man possessed. Watching him were his senior staff including the heads of Biology, Genetics, Security, and the Chimera Project. He was not a happy man.

A dead security team, twelve dead experimental subjects, a destroyed lab and an AWOL researcher! Where the hell is Vincent?

The head of the Chimera Project raised her hand.

What, Emilie?

He left this, she said while handing him an envelope.

He opened and read it. It's a letter of resignation with a detailed explanation of why he quit. Heads will roll in high places if it ever gets out.

Sir, His billet is empty, I mean completely empty. His credit cards are all canceled, his phone is dead, and his bank accounts closed. We checked, and every record of him is gone from the net. It is as if he never existed.

What about his fiancé, Doctor Kristine Clancy?

He called her, apologized profusely, then broke off the engagement.

Does she know about the project he was involved with?

Not to my knowledge, but I expect she will be visiting your office very soon.

What about his research?

His lab notebooks are sitting under all his hard drives at the bottom of the shop's plasma forge.

Find him! I want his AWOL ass in this office in twenty-four hours. Send Martian if you have to, but I want him in my office in 24-hours or heads will roll!

Sir, technically, he's not AWOL. He resigned his commission. If you look at the agreement he had with the department...

FIND HIM!

Yes, sir!

###

Shortly after Ellie killed most of the world...

The man walked into town as the sun peaked over the horizon while seabirds flew overhead. It was your typical New England town, only there were no men about, just women and very few of them. To a person, they stopped to watch the man slowly walk down the street toward the nearby docks where dozens of fishing boats sat unused.

Can I help you?

The man turned toward the source of the question, a young woman wearing a sheriff's badge.

Captain Joe Dombrowski, Sheriff. I'm looking for a boat to buy and a home to settle in. He handed her several documents including a Nevada driver's license, passport, birth certificate, and a Master Mariner Certificate.

Sheriff Miranda North, she replied as she handed the paperwork back. You said Nevada? I didn't see you come in a car and bus service died with Ellie.

I walked. It took a while, but it gave me a chance to think.

You walked from Nevada? How long have you been on the road?

He told her.

You walked across the United States at the height of the Ellie outbreak?

Yes. I was off the beaten path, so I missed most of it. He looked around. How many men survived here about?

Including yourself?

Yes, ma'am.

One. You fish?

Anything with fins, ma'am. I've also worked crab, lobster, and salvage. You might say the ocean and I have an understanding.

What about weapons, security, and the like?

Ex-military, ma'am. Did a tour in the Marines.

Got any money or trade goods?

He took off his pack, and after short time spent rummaging around inside it, he withdrew a pouch which he handed her.

Noting the UEMC shield and the word SURVIVAL printed on the front, she opened it and gasped. Inside were diamonds of all sizes and grades. Seeing a military knife on his belt, she asked, You're not carrying any other weapons?

No ma'am, don't need any.

She raised an eyebrow while giving him a once-over. OK. You'll be working for me as deputy as well as training the ladies of this town in the fine art of seamanship. We've got a processing plant, but no fish to process, so your first order of business is to get boats on the water. Do you feel up to the task, Captain Dombrowski?

Yes, ma'am. Is there some place where I can stow my gear?

Follow me, Deputy. You have your pick of apartments.

CHAPTER TWO

Years later...

Grayville is a small town in the middle of North America with a population made up predominantly of Zetan Reticulans. Looking down main street, one would be reminded of the small, rural towns which dotted the countryside two centuries ago except most of the people strolling down the streets were gray aliens made popular in stories from the 20th century. Today was no exception.

Nancy Chisum, proud new owner of the Star Freighter Sciver, walked into the Grayville Cafe and was met by the cafe's co-owner, a tilion named Trom.

Nancy, it is good to see you, Trom said before leading her to a table. Your usual?

Coffee and a cheese Danish, please.

It is good to see you have your appetite back, Trom said. A coffee and cheese Danish coming right up.

Nancy sat back to watch the people eating and drinking around her.

Mom! You are looking radiant today, her daughter, Shanna, said as she sat down next to her.

Thank you, child. I feel radiant.

Trom brought two coffees and two cheese Danish. Welcome home, Shanna. How was your travel?

Like her mother, Shanna had steerable, pointed ears which twitched when she was vexed. Right now, they were flicking to and fro as if someone was tickling them. Hey, Trom. Travel was great. How's Beryl?

He is doing well. Today he spends time at the Parthenon Cafe, then tomorrow he visits New Selora.

The front door swished open as a winged Seloran walked in with a slightly bedraggled human in tow. Nancy stood up and stared as the two walked over to the counter. Oh my God! she said as both ears swiveled straight at the two. I'll be right back, she said as she walked over to talk to the winged one.

Nancy returned with the human in tow. Have a seat. Trom, could you bring my friend a Rancher's Special and a mug of your strongest coffee?

Coming right up, she said before hurrying off.

Shanna gave her the WTF? look just as Trom returned with coffees and Danish. The man took the cup and drank deeply, its heat seemingly not bothering him.

Shanna, I would like you to meet Doctor Victor Vincent, the developer of the Chimera Process...

The human sprayed coffee into a nearby potted plant. My name is Captain Joe Dombrowski. I used to skipper a salvage ship.

Bullshit, Doc. I remember you visiting the clinic where I was getting my treatments. We shook hands. At the time, I thought you were hot, Nancy noted.

Mother! Shanna exclaimed.

Can we please keep this conversation to a whisper? Joe asked, pleaded would be a better word.

What are you hiding from, Doc? What'd you do? Go AWOL?

Something like that. I'd rather not have my presence here be advertised.

You don't want people to know you're here?

I don't want people to know I'm still alive.

What did you do? Shanna asked.

It doesn't matter, he said as the food arrived. He ate a few bites. Damn, this is good.

Are you friends with the sheriff? Shanna asked.

Oh that. No, he arrested me for being drunk and disorderly. Last night, I mixed it up with a couple of Sartorans over at the bar. We had a difference of opinion on what football team was going to win the championship this year.

Two Sartorans? And you're still alive?

I guess I'm just lucky.

I guess you are. Tell me, Doc, what brings you to Grayville?

Originally, I planned on just passing through, but now...? This town is fascinating. Any chance I can find work around here?

What do you have in mind? Nancy asked.

I can do virtually anything I set my mind to. I have a Master Mariner License and a strong back.

Wait, aren't you a PHD? Shanna asked.

And an MD if memory serves, Nancy added. I remember some of the Clinic staff saying you are a certifiable genius as well.

I have my moments. As for the degrees, I haven't worked in either of those fields since before Ellie.

Ever work on a spaceship, Doc? Nancy asked?

No. You got one lying around?

Yes, I do. Her name is the Sciver. Her captain, a Seloran named Regus Royle, is always looking for deckhands. We've been going through a lot of them lately, and I would like to stem the outflow.

Do you know why they're leaving? Joe asked.

Regus. He considers deckhands to be a necessary evil, and he lets them know it. Most can't handle the strain.

And you think I can?

Yeah. I do. Are you interested?

Yes, but on one condition.

Name it.

Let Victor die. He's earned a rest.

So be it. Where are you staying?

I was thinking of camping in the hills outside of town.

Yeah...no. There be dragons in those hills, and they don't like to be disturbed.

Dragons...? Shit! Those morons went to phase 3. It must have been right after I left. Damn.

What's phase 3? Shanna asked.

Using the chimera technique on non-human species. My employers were determined to create the ultimate organic weapon system.

Why? Shanna asked.

He looked first at her, then Nancy before he replied. The UE was on the verge of disintegrating. The Chimera Project was a last-ditch effort to bolster the UE forces in the event of a global meltdown. Nancy, you were part of phase 1 and dragons were part of phase 3. Ellie changed all that.

Shanna frowned while her ears locked onto Joe. What about phase 2?

Compared to phase 1, which I consider my greatest achievement, phase 2 has guaranteed me a seat in the deepest circle of hell. Can we just leave it at that?

Sure. We'll just grill you later, but for now, you're staying with us. I've got plenty of rooms and the Sciver isn't due to arrive for a couple of days, I've got a ton of chores needing done around my place. Anyway, I'd like you to meet the rest of my kids.

Kids? How many do you have, Nancy?

About a hundred. Shanna is my biological daughter while the others are adopted. It's a long story. Do you like kids?

Yes. Taught a lot of them to fish.

Can you cook fish? Shanna asked, because Mom is terrible at it.

Shanna!

I know a few recipes, Joe noted.

Good, then come along Doc. We have much to do.

Joe finished his breakfast, then his coffee before they left with Nancy paying the bill on the way out.

###

Joe stepped out of the shower and thanked God for hot water. For the last three weeks he had resorted to sponge baths in rivers to get clean. Yes, fresh air and clean water were reward enough, but sometimes hot water cascading down from a shower head was a treat he could not pass up. When he exited the shower, he found his empty rucksack next to a pile of clean, though unfamiliar clothes. Trying them on, he found that they fit perfectly while closer examination of the sack revealed a note with the words In the wash, written on it.

Feeling human once more, he exited the room straight into a young Zetan woman carrying a steaming mug of coffee.

Oops. Sorry, he said as he backed up to give her room. Didn't see you there.

My name is Penny, she said as she handed him the mug. Mom said you'll need this.

Joe, he replied as he took it from her and sipped from it. Damn, that is good. Did you make it?

She nodded. Mom said you know how to cook fish.

Yes, I do. Are you hungry?

We all are.

Then take me to the kitchen.

###

Joe was led downstairs into a kitchen big enough to supply food to a 400-seat restaurant. Waiting for him was a large crowd of young people ranging in age