Emergence (The Belt Series Book 6), page 1
EMERGENCE
THE BELT BOOK SIX
GERALD M. KILBY
CONTENTS
Reader’s Group
1. The Dillon Waystation
2. Life Gets Complicated
3. Deepest Secrets
4. Poor Choices
5. Alternative Futures
6. Escape Velocity
7. Like the Old Days
8. Soft Underbelly
9. The 70th Parallel
10. Rexcel City
11. Random Events
12. Subzero Research Facility
13. Newcomers
14. One More Thing
15. Xiang Zu
16. Godforsaken Universe
17. Game On
18. Another Horizon
19. Handshake
20. Only One Winner
21. Mobilize Everything
22. The Perfect Place
23. Quantum Bay
24. Command of Assets
25. The Signal
26. System Glitch
27. Motor Skills
28. Sumitomo Shipyard
29. Emergence
Author’s Note
Also by Gerald M. Kilby
About the Author
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1
THE DILLON WAYSTATION
The Dillon Waystation is about as close as you can possibly get to nowhere in the asteroid belt and still order a drink. Its isolation suited people like Dakota Baird and his motley crew of privateers—along with a sizable contingent of like-minded individuals who preferred to play by their own rules, far from the prying eyes of civilized society.
With the QI on Ceres long gone, opportunities for the smugglers trade had become plentiful. A little anarchy went a long way when your business was all about slipping under the radar, doing what needed to be done, no questions asked. At least that was until the Xiang Zu Corporation decided to start a war for control over the region’s resources.
“Are you in, Dak?” Jarvis, one of his crew, gestured at the chips piled up in the center of the grubby bar table, which had been fashioned from an old airlock hatch. “Too rich for you?” He cracked a smile exposing a row of teeth reminiscent of a crater rim.
“Eh?” Dakota glanced at his cards. Three kings, and all cards out—tricky, he thought. There was already an ace face up on the table. Could be very useful to someone, particularly if they happen to have a few more. He glanced around at others trying to divine some meaning from their body language. But all he could tell for sure was that they were mostly drunk.
“Okay, I’m feeling lucky tonight.” He slid a stack of chips toward the ever-growing pot. “I’ll see you and raise you twenty.”
“Twenty?” Tamires was next. She tipped her head from side to side, weighing up her hand. Then let out a long sigh. “You know, maybe if we got paid from that last job, I wouldn’t have to gamble for my next beer.” She threw in the last of her chips. “All in, I suppose.”
“Say, boss.” Brooker, one of the techs, looked over at Dakota. “How’s that coming along? I mean, when do we get what we’re owed from those Xiang Zu bastards? Been waiting a long time.”
“Yeah,” Aeon pipped in. “We’re all running on fumes. These recent jobs pay crap.”
Dakota raised a hand. “Soon, very soon.” He then gave a quick scan around the bar, checking out the collection of patrons who had gathered here tonight. He recognized many of the usual crews, but there were some he did not. New people had been arriving of late, many of whom were just young radicals escaping the drudgery of Belt life for the prospect of danger and excitement. But there were others that had clearly not opted for this life by choice. They were here because they had simply nowhere else to go. Their old life in the Belt had been destroyed by the growing conflict. This was the only option they had left. But they would never survive, Dakota knew this. They just didn’t have the temperament, the ruthlessness—they would all be dead within the year. In the meantime, the only person who would grow rich from all this new activity was the owner of this backwater establishment, Dillon Barr.
He had been a mercenary turned smuggler back in the day, long before the QIs started getting involved, and his past was the stuff of legend. How much was true and how much was bullshit really didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was so successful that other crews began to rely on him to find jobs. But what really set him apart was that he could be trusted—possibly the most valuable asset in the Belt. But he was also a masterful strategist with a keen instinct for making a buck, and saw the writing on the wall when the QI on Ceres finally went live. He chose that time to get out of the business, deciding instead to put all his energy and resources into acquiring an old decommissioned ore processing station that was ready to be junked. He towed it out to the asshole of nowhere and got busy turning it into a waystation for the crews that operated all across this sector.
Most people thought he was crazy. But they were people that didn’t really know him. They just assumed that he had taken too many pills or had too many plasma blasts to the head and had lost a few marbles in the process. Yet what Dillon knew was that the second most precious thing in the Belt, after trust, was gravity. In a region where the biggest rock has barely 3% of Earth’s gravity, the population out here spent most of their time and resources finding a place to hang out that had a decent level of artificial gravity. And the old ore processing plant that he had just acquired had a gigantic rotating torus generating a full one gee.
So, over the years, Dillon set about turning it into a place where crews could hole up for a spell between jobs. Where they could fix their ships and equipment, replenish their supplies, and kickback for a time while they hunted down the next gig. Soon, as crews came and went, got drunk and started talking, Dillon Barr knew pretty much everything that was worth knowing in this sector of Belt space. All information flowed through Dillon, he was a clearing house of knowledge, and that proved to be worth more than even he ever imagined.
Dakota was damn sure that Dillon knew his crew were responsible for the takedown of that Mars ship a while back, and he might even know what it was they stole. That was dangerous information. There were quite a few crews in the waystation tonight who could get very upset if they were to find out what Dakota had got stashed away in the cargo hold of his ship. Even more so if they knew that the client was none other than the Xiang Zu Corporation. The very people they regarded as responsible for their sudden change of career.
He turned back to the card game with his crew and leaned in over the table. “And keep it zipped.” He jerked a finger at Brooker. “Don’t say that name again in here. Not unless you want to fight your way out.”
Brooker scowled. “Just saying. We’ve been sitting on this for months. It’s time we got rid of it.”
“Yeah, Jarvis whispered. “What’s the big hold up anyway?”
“I said, this is not the place.” Dakota scowled. “Let’s get back to the game. Aeon, you in?”
Aeon studied her cards.
Dakota glanced over at a dimly lit alcove where Dillon held court. He was nearly always there, sitting in the same place engaging in whispered conversations with those in the business that mattered, while two heavies stood guard, fending off any losers desperately seeking Dillon’s ear. He looked up at that very moment and caught Dakota’s eye. He nodded, smiled, and raised a glass. Dakota nodded back an acknowledgment.
“Screw it, all-in.” Aeon pushed the last remnants of her stash into the pot and slapped the table. “Time to show what you got, ladies. Dak, lay them out.”
Dakota placed a king face up on the table followed by another, and after a short pause for effect, another king.
Jarvis let out a groan. “Goddamnit, I had three queens.” He threw his cards down.
“Well, well, well, what have we got here.” Aeon placed an ace down next the one face up on the table. Dakota knew what was coming. Then another. Three aces, he knew it. He should have folded when he had the chance. But Aeon wasn’t finished, she then rubbed salt in everyone’s wounds by placing down another. “Ha-ha, four big ones, full engine burn. Aaaaand…that’s mine.” She reached over the pot with both arms and scooped it over to her.
“Jeez, Aeon. You’re buying the beer from now on, you just cleaned me out.” Tamires shook her head.
As if on cue, at the mere mention of the word beer, one of the staff approached their alcove. But before he took any orders, he moved over beside Dakota, bent down, and whispered in his ear, “Mr. Barr insists you to join him for a drink.”
Dakota glanced over, but Dillon was engrossed in conversation with two people who looked more like anxious refugees than hardened mercenaries. Was Dillon going soft? he wondered. “Sure,” Dakota nodded. Another round was ordered by Aeon, the waiter moved off, and all eyes around the table looked at Dakota.
“So?” said Jarvis.
“So,” he jerked his head over at Dillon’s alcove. “The great man want’s a word.”
This was met with silence, interspersed with quick glances around the bar. Dakota, like his crew and everyone else within a million kilometers of this waystation, knew that Dillon was not someone who indulged in idle chat. When he invited you into his inner sanctum, it was because he wanted something, and it was never a good idea to refuse.
“Shit,” said Tamires. “I bet he knows about the—” But she was cut off by an elbow in the ribs from Jarvis. “Don’t bloody say it, not in here.”
“Well, only one way to find out.” Dakota stood up. “Catch you later.” He strode off to meet with Dillon Barr.
Dakota felt an odd vibe in the waystation as he threaded his way over to the seat of power. With this many patrons, the bar would normally be borderline manic, but not so tonight. Most had gathered in tight knots of hushed conversations in dim corners. Nobody seemed in the mood to party.
Dillon glanced up as he approached and somehow sent a silent signal to the two heavies to let him through.
“Ah…Dakota Baird, good of you to join me.” He gestured at a seat opposite.
Dillon was not alone, in fact, Dakota could never remember a time when he wasn’t surrounded by a circle of minions and lackeys. Even now, there were several others skulking in the darker recess of Dillon’s alcove.
Dakota sat, and cast a quick glance at the two people leaving. From their clothes and general body language, they didn’t get what they came for. He jerked his head at them. “Taking on new staff? Business must be good.”
Dillon gave a wry smile, and stroked his long red beard. “Ah…there’s a lot of uncertainty these days, too much chaos going on in the Belt. They all hang around here, looking for a way out.”
A waiter came with drinks; a beer for Dakota, water for Dillon. He took a sip and sat back. “Those two came with news from afar.” He jerked a thumb over one shoulder, “Refugees from Eugina. Bad things happening out there.” He waved a hand in the air. “But I’m sure a man with your connections knows all this, can smell the change in the wind.”
Dakota took a long drink, more to steady his mind than to quench his thirst. He needed to be careful with Dillon. He could draw you in with seemingly trivial banter only to pounce once you let your guard down.
“A little anarchy has always been a friend to those in our line of work, Dillon.”
“Ah…Dakota, ever the opportunist. A silver lining in every cloud, yes?”
Dakota nodded, “You could say that.”
“Yet,” Dillon shifted in his seat and focused his steely green eyes on him. “But what if that cloud is the harbinger of a great storm, what then?”
“Then it’s best to find a safe harbor and wait it out.”
“A wise choice.” Dillon sat back, broke off his stare, and stroked his beard again. “Tell me,” he said after a while. “Do you know anything about a Mars ship that was rumbled back a few months ago, over in the Eros sector?”
There it is, he thought. Dillon knew damn well it was his crew that did the job. So, what’s he after?
“Ah…ships get knocked over all the time.” Dakota replied with as much disinterest as he could feign. “So much so, that the details can get a little muddy.”
“Well let me help you. This one had a cargo of particular interest to the Xiang Zu Corporation.”
“Oh?” Dakota examined the interior of his glass.
“Yes, and rumor has it that they still haven’t taken delivery of it yet.” Dillon glanced around, leaned in, and lowered his voice. “They say that it was a quantum core that was stolen. One that was destined for the New World One habitat.” He leaned back again. “As you can imagine, that’s got a lot of people interested as to whereabouts of this cargo.”
“Really? What sort of people?” Dakota took another drink to steady himself.
“Desperate people, Dakota.” Dillon almost spat out the words. “The worst sort. Desperate people do desperate things.” He let this hang in the air for a moment, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Take those two unfortunates that were here earlier. Lost everything back on Eugina. Everything they thought was important in life, poof! Gone.” Dillon locked his eyes onto Dakota’s. “You see, they naively thought they could hold out against the Xiang Zu Corporation. Well, they were wrong. And now what they got?”
Dakota struggled to reply before Dillon spared him the misery by starting up again. “Well, I’ll tell you what they got. A rumor is what. A rumor about a magical computer that can solve all of their problems.” He held Dakota in his gaze for a moment, then shrugged and sat back. “Ah…maybe it’s just bullshit, you know—a myth, a specter. But it’s what gives them hope, keeps them going, drives them on. Desperate people, Dakota, they got nothing to lose.”
Dakota sipped his beer and took a moment. “Well, that’s fascinating, Dillon. You do have the best stories. Sorry I can’t shed any more light on this…rumor.”
Dillon nodded. “Pity.” He took a sip of his drink and continued. “Do you know where they are heading next?”
“Can’t say I do, Dillon. Nor do I really care.”
“Well, you should, because they are looking to buy passage to Elektra where they have vowed to hold out against Xiang Xu, come what may.” He gave Dakota a considered look. “Isn’t that where your brother and family are? Surely you must be worried for them?”
Dakota felt the blood pulse in his temple, and only for the fact that weapons were banned on the waystation, he might have blown Dillon’s head off. “That’s no concern of yours.”
Dillon raised a thin hand. “My apologies if I have touched a raw nerve. Families can be so complicated.” He smiled.
Dakota downed the last of his beer and went to stand up and leave. But Dillon raised a hand. “Sit.”
He felt rough hands grab is shoulders from behind and shove him back down in the seat. Dillon leaned in, his face deadly serious. “I know you did that job on the Mars transport. I also know what you’re still holding the goods. I don’t know where you have it stashed, but even if I did, rest assured, I want no part of it. Because it’s a poisoned chalice, Dakota. Ready to bring hell down on anyone who has it.”
Dakota said nothing, what was there to say.
“Now you and me, we go back a long way, back to the early days. And it’s out of respect for you that I’ll keep this our little secret. But I want you off this waystation, right now. Your crew have already been shown the door. They’re waiting for you on your ship. I want you as far away from here as possible.” He paused to let this sink in. “But as a parting gift, let me give you some advice. Like I said, a storm is coming, but this one has no safe harbors, it only has sides, Dakota. Best make sure you on the right one when it breaks.”
He nodded to his goons. “Get him the hell out of here.”
2
LIFE GETS COMPLICATED
Dakota arrived onto his ship to face a confused and angry crew.
“What the hell is going on, boss? Why are we getting booted off the waystation?”
Dakota moved purposefully toward the bridge to check on the ship’s readiness to undock and depart. “He knows we did the Mars transport job a while back, and has a good idea of what we stole. He’s afraid we’ll attract too much heat if we stay here.”
“Then we need to get rid of it, make the handover,” said Brooker. “Why is it taking so long?”
“The situation in the Belt is volatile at the moment.” Dakota waved a hand in the air. “It’s very difficult to arrange a safe rendezvous.”
“That’s bullshit.” Kendrix barged his way through to the front of the assembled crew, with a few of his comrades close behind. He was the second in command and not someone Dakota could brush off with the wave of a hand.
Kendrix turned around to face the rest of the crew. “We should have gotten rid of this thing a long time ago but Dakota here’s been stalling, haven’t you?” He turned back and jabbed an accusatory finger at the captain.
