Junkyard Spaceship, page 1
part #3 of Junkyard Pirate Series
Junkyard Spaceship
Jamie McFarlane
Fickle Dragon Publishing LLC
Contents
Preface
1. Brother’s Arms
2. No Patriot
3. Whackin' Patties
4. Spooks
5. Pyrrhic Victory
6. Sense of Duty
7. Rocket Man
8. Rerouted
9. Going Ballistic
10. Maxillary, Paxillary
11. Eloquence
12. Hairless Apes
13. Language of Beer
14. Fight to Survive
15. A Way Out
16. Truth and Consequence
17. Familia
18. Trojans
19. Friend of my Enemy
20. Check the Tapes
21. Hunting Princesses
22. Re-upped
23. One Way Forward
24. Twist
25. Mad Science
26. First Class
27. Summit
28. Ninety Seconds
29. Pig in a Poke
30. Royal Pain
Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Also by Jamie McFarlane
Preface
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One
Brother’s Arms
Albert Jenkins shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare and followed the smoking contrail of a failing alien vessel as it sailed across the cobalt blue of the Tucson afternoon sky. Dual explosive reports from twin F-16s hot on the ship’s trail rattled the windows of his newly constructed home.
“Is that an enemy?” Diego, AJ’s thirteen-year-old neighbor, asked innocently. “Is it attacking us?”
Beverly, AJ’s symbiotic four-hundred-nanometer-long alien passenger and a Beltigersk, chose that moment to appear. Her current form was that of a woman from the late nineteen twenties with light brown hair of whimsical length and cut. A big fan of pop culture and history, she’d made a game of choosing a historical character to see if AJ would correctly guess who she was. Her efforts often fell flat, but she was tireless in the endeavor.
“Ratty old cotton flight suit with a leather flight jacket? Heck, you even got the hair right,” he said, giving her a onceover. “Amelia Earhart. You’re gonna need to up your game.”
“That is a Vred shuttle, Diego.” Beverly answered the boy’s question while grinning at his acknowledgment. “The shuttle is in distress and has not answered repeated communication attempts.”
“Looks like Air National Guard is on the job,” AJ said. “Hope it’s not someone we know.”
Doctor Amanda Jayne slapped the back of her hand against his chest. “Don’t be dumb, AJ. What are the odds of a Vred shuttle flying over Tucson in plain sight?”
“Shit, the Guard’s firing.” He watched a single missile detach from one of the pursuing F-16s. The sound of explosive detonation filled the air. Instinctively, he pulled her to the ground, placing his own body between her body and the far-off explosion.
“Why would they fire?” she asked, her voice muffled as she clung to AJ’s shirt. “And why are we ducking? They’ve got to be a couple miles out.”
He pulled her back to her feet. “Diego, we’ve got to move.” Shuttling both toward the machine shop some thirty yards away, he turned to whistle loudly. “Greybeard, come!”
The three ran through the open door of the metal-clad shed, then he led them through the back door into the junkyard to a pile of old refrigerators. In the midst of the junk, a steel door was set into a column of concrete.
“AJ, you’re scaring me,” Jayne said, as she hurried through the door and down the darkened stairs.
“That Vred ship was circling back to us. We’re in the line of fire. Greybeard, get over here, you mangy mutt!”
The last comment sparked an irritated bark from the grey bulldog who’d successfully bonded with another of the symbiotic nano-meter-size aliens. When communicating with Greybeard, it was often difficult to tell where the alien stopped and the dog began. AJ, however, was just grateful that the pair responded to his call.
“Incoming!” he shouted, ducking on the third stair while holding the door open. Automatic gunfire tore through the concrete structure, opening the stairwell to daylight just as Greybeard cleared the threshold and bounded down the stairs.
“We need to move, soldier!” Beverly urged, appearing in front of him now wearing dark green helmet and jungle fatigues common to the Vietnam War. The sights and sounds brought back memories of AJ’s days in ‘Nam. He responded instinctively, diving down the stairwell, not stopping even when the pain of ramming into the concrete wall blurred his vision. Clawing over rubble, he propelled himself further into the darkness, finally clearing the heavy metal threshold of the bunker his grandfather built after WWII.
“AJ, are you okay?” Jayne slid onto her knees next to him and started running her cold hands beneath his shirt, searching for wounds.
A grin cracked his face. “Slow down there, Doc. We’ve got plenty of time for whatever you’re thinking.”
“You ass…” Her retort was cut off when an explosion tore off the roof of the stairwell, pelting them with concrete fragments.
“Door!” AJ lunged for the heavy steel door and swung it closed just as a fireball illuminated the stairwell. For good measure, he rotated the ring on the back of the door, sinking steel bars into the frame to seal them in.
“What in the hell is going on out there?” she asked.
“That Vred shuttle was circling back. It was coming right for us. I figured those Guard F-16s were playing for keeps.”
“The Guard can fire into a civilian population?”
“If they think the threat’s high enough.”
His voice was drowned out by a second, much larger explosion that shook the bunker even though it was buried ten feet beneath ground level.
“My God,” Jayne gasped. “That must have been a rocket.”
“That wasn’t a rocket. Something crashed – and close. Come on, we can’t get out this way. We’ll have to go out the back.”
“Where is back?” Diego asked, surprisingly unperturbed by the events.
AJ gestured for them to follow. “Hope neither of you is claustrophobic.”
The bunker wasn’t huge. He led everyone into what was currently a pantry and handed over boxes of food and other essential supplies, indicating where they should be restacked. Once the shelving unit was clear, he grabbed a prybar hidden on top and knocked down two of the shelves before prying out a panel at the back.
“Why would your grandfather cover a maintenance hatch?” Beverly asked, flipping on the bright round light in the front of an old mining helmet she now wore. Soot covered her from head to toe.
“He didn’t. I did. Not much use for it and we needed the room,” AJ said, working to turn the steel ring holding the small hatch closed. “Darn thing is frozen. Diego, fetch that jug of corn oil in the kitchen, would you? I don’t think I have anything better down here.”
“Yes, Mr. AJ,” Diego agreed and ran off.
“That kid trusts you entirely too much,” Jayne said. “You’re nothing but a lure for danger.”
“Diego and I are simpatico,” he said. “We know another survivor when we see one. He’s got my back and I’ve got his, just like in ‘Nam.”
“Ohhh, I see,” she said, sounding a little irritated.
“Don’t worry, darling, you and me are just like that except I like you having my back a whole lot more.”
She slapped AJ, the sound reverberating in the small space. “Oh, I didn’t mean to hit you so hard,” she said, almost sounding sincere.
AJ rubbed his cheek and considered the aged surgeon. Like him, aliens had reversed her aging process until she appeared as healthy and fit as she’d been in her late twenties. It was hard to reconcile that they’d both served in ‘Nam together and met at a field hospital where she saved his life. Running into each other years later after AJ’s near-fatal accident, they’d had little choice but to join the fight to save the world from the Korgul menace. AJ liked to think they had formed a deep bond, even though neither had sought to put words to their relationship.
“Here is the oil, Mr. AJ,” Diego said, holding the bottle out and smiling broadly at Jayne.
“Ask me, I must have struck a nerve to get you all riled up like that.”
“I’m not riled,” she retorted.
AJ smiled to himself and poured canola oil onto the frozen gears of the hatch. “Just keep telling yourself that,” he muttered under his breath.
“I can hear you just fine, Albert Jenkins.”
He set the pry bar between the rungs of the wheel and pulled. At first, he was unsuccessful. After a couple of tries the wheel grudgingly gave way.
“BB, you have any idea what’s going on topside?” AJ asked, using his preferred nickname for Beverly.
“All of my connections are severed,” she said. “Something caused significant damage within the junkyard. I suspect, like you, there is a downed craft. That you do not smell jet fuel suggests the craft is likely the Vred shuttle.”
AJ shrugged as he looked over to Jayne. “You really need to get one of these riders back onboard,” he said, pointing at Beverly. Jayne and her first alien guest's personalities had conflicted to the point that sh
“Two Beltigersk symbiotes in one life seems like a nice number,” she said. “Although, I dearly miss Thomas’s keen intellect and gentlemanly ways.”
AJ grinned at Beverly. “I believe that slight was aimed at me. Thing is girls all say they want a gentleman. It’s a story they tell themselves.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Jayne said. “I don’t know what I see in you.”
He grinned and worked the door open to the pitch black of a rusted steel pipe not much wider than a man's shoulders. “Ladies first?”
“Do we really not have a flashlight?” Jayne asked, irritated.
He handed her a D-cell battery light and flicked it on. The beam disappeared down the tight steel tunnel, not illuminating an end. She looked back at AJ, her lower lip quivering. As soon as she recognized the nervous action her jaw clamped shut.
“I remember crawling through a few tunnels like this back in the day,” he said, taking the flashlight and crawling into the steeply upward-sloping pipe. “Not my best memory of the war.”
Jayne crawled in behind him. “I remember some of the boys talking about the tunnels. It sounded horrific. Are you doing okay?”
“No mud, no Viet Cong. This is a walk in the park, Doc.”
It took several minutes for the trio to work their way to the top of the shaft. The last several yards of the shaft widened where the tunnel went completely vertical, the only way forward a makeshift ladder of bent steel rebar. AJ paused when he reached the top of the shaft and placed the palm of his hand against the hatch.
“Cool to the touch. That’s a good sign,” he said, spinning the locking wheel. His first push at the hatch was unsuccessful. Pushing hard, his foot slipped and he barely missed kicking Jayne in the face.
“Careful,” she said.
“Sorry, Doc. I’m having trouble moving this.”
“Is it locked?”
“No. Hold the flashlight, would you?” He pulled the light from between his teeth and handed it down to her.
“AJ, I will give you a small burst of adrenaline,” Beverly said. “It will increase your strength for a few moments. Be careful that you do not strain or tear your ligaments.”
He grunted and his eyes widened as adrenaline hit his system. Everything seemed to go into slow motion and his mind cleared, even though his heart was racing. With a savage thrust, he pushed up into the hatch and threw it back, growling angrily as a tipped-over washing machine tumbled away.
“Quite impressive,” Jayne said, chuckling. “Maybe I understand why we’re together.”
“I’m just a piece of meat to you, aren’t I?” He reached into the hole after crawling out. With adrenaline still in his system, he lifted the lithe doctor out as if she weighed nothing and set her on the ground. When he turned back, Diego was already out.
“Not just a piece of meat,” she said, grinning back at him.
He reveled for only a moment in her attention, then looked around. “Holy shit. I just finished it! How could this happen?”
Jayne followed his gaze to the burning rubble of his newly rebuilt home. Right there in the middle of the rubble was the wreckage of the Vred shuttle. The ship’s fuselage looked intact, but both engines were missing. He traced a line of destruction and saw that one of the engines had plowed a furrow across the top of the bunker’s entrance. The second engine had burrowed a similar track across the front of the machine shop. Both engines had missed his workshop, but the house was a complete loss.
“Oh, AJ! Your house,” Jayne said. “I’m so sorry.”
The sound of scraping metal drew their attention to the fuselage, still surrounded by the burning wreckage of his home. A hatch was thrown back and two human hands appeared, gripping the metal around the opening. Jayne and AJ watched in silence as a tall figure crawled out of the ship. It took a moment, but AJ realized their uninvited guest was his old friend, Army Ranger, and fellow Beltigersk host, Lefty Johnson.
“Shit, Lefty,” AJ said, not sure what else to say. “Anyone hurt?”
“Sorry about the mess. Just a second.” Lefty gestured to someone inside. A moment later, a reptilian humanoid followed Lefty out, purplish blood running down the side of the obviously female Vred’s face. “Sharg is hurt and I think Queenie’s pinned under something.”
AJ looked for a safe route across that yard that would take him to the ship. “Hold on, Sharg, there’s fire all around you. Diego, Jayne, get some water on this, I’ve got to get something.”
He raced into the machine shed. This time, however, he slowed as he entered, plucked a backpack from the workbench and slung it over his shoulders. Clipping buckles into place, he sucked in a quick breath to steady himself.
“Fire is hot, AJ. The gasses rising could cause significant lung damage,” Beverly warned as he fired up the rocket pack. The device didn’t actually use rocket technology for propulsion but instead utilized a rare element called Fantastium known to only a few humans.
“You and Jayne will just need to patch me up then,” he said. “If the ship rolls over with that hatch open, they could get roasted.”
“I will do my best,” Beverly said, “but if you pass into unconsciousness, I might not be able to save you.”
“Aww, you ladies just can’t help gushing over me today,” he said, flitting over the burning structure. As promised, the heated gasses made him choke but he crossed over the flames before he was overcome.
“Sharg, you have cranial bleeding that must be attended to immediately,” Beverly stated as AJ settled next to her.
“I am unwell,” Sharg said in a cultured voice at odds with her decidedly reptilian features. The seven-foot-tall Vred swooned from loss of blood and fell heavily into AJ’s arms.
“Can this pack hold us both?” AJ asked.
“It is beyond the functional capacity of the unit,” Beverly said.
He struggled to get an arm beneath the heavy alien. “How much beyond?”
“It will not work, AJ.”
The ship rocked beneath his feet, unstable atop the burning house. “Jayne, I need a path!” he shouted over the roaring flames. “Soak it down!”
“The structure is too unstable. You’ll fall through,” she called back while pointing the hose at the house beneath AJ. The spray was largely ineffective against the flames.
“Oh, this is gonna suck.” He slid down the side of the ship onto a narrow section of fallen roof not yet burning.
“AJ, no!” Jayne called. “You’ll be trapped.” She doubled her efforts to soak the structure nearest his location but wasn’t overly effective.
“BB, gonna need all the lift this baby can give us,” He jumped onto a charred beam covered in glowing embers. “Jayne, my legs! Spray my legs!”
He ran across the beam and faltered as the structure shifted beneath him. The motors of the small rocket pack whined with urgency but failed to provide any lift. When he fell to one knee, an ember burned through his pants. He yowled in pain but managed to stand back up. A fresh wave of water struck his chest as Jayne managed to extend the stream.
“Mr. AJ, run!” Diego urged, unnecessarily.
The encouragement and his own dogged determination drove AJ forward even against the blistering pain in his feet. Cool water washed over him as he reached the new landscaping that had been planted only the day before. This time when AJ stumbled, he allowed Sharg to fall from his grasp.
“Help her,” he ordered and lifted into the air. “BB, tell me I can at least carry a human.”
“Yes,” she said. “But, AJ, you have tissue damage to your feet. I am blocking a substantial amount of the pain. You must be careful. There is a high probability your body could simply shut down due to the shock.”
