Quite Possibly Heroes (Freeman Universe Book 3), page 1
QUITE POSSIBLY HEROES
A FREEMAN UNIVERSE NOVEL
PATRICK O'SULLIVAN
A Dunkerron Press™ Book.
Copyright © 2022 by Patrick O’Sullivan
PatrickOSullivan.com
Illustration © Tom Edwards
TomEdwardsDesign.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-62560-024-0
ISBN-10: 1-62560-024-0
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by an electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Dunkerron Press, P.O. Box 501180, Marathon FL 33050-1180.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, dialogue, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dunkerron Press and the Dunkerron colophon are trademarks of Dunkerron, LLC.
CONTENTS
The Freeman Universe
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
A Note from Patrick
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About the Author
THE FREEMAN UNIVERSE
Novels:
Quite Possibly Alien
Quite Possibly Allies
Quite Possibly Heroes
Novellas, Novelettes and Short Stories:
Quite Possibly True
Quite Possibly False
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Welcome to the Freeman Universe. And thank you for reading this first book in the series. If you enjoyed it please consider leaving a review when you’re done. It’s the best way to help like-minded readers find new stories they’ll love.
—Patrick O’Sullivan
Your Free Book is Waiting
To save the living Ciarán must wake the dead. And that’s exactly what he does, explaining how he:
Won a posting to the Freeman Merchant Academy.
First met the mong hu Wisp.
Learned the Iron Rule of Coincidences.
Get your free copy of Book 1.5, Quite Possibly True here:
Quite Possibly True
Your Free Book is Waiting
Senior Captain Maris Solon knows better than to trust Hector Poole. But trust him she must, when she’s lured to the planet Sampson and forced to choose between darkness and light.
There is more at stake than anyone has imagined. Will the truth set her free or shackle her to a destiny only a martyr, or a madman, would embrace?
Get your free copy of Book 2.5, Quite Possibly False here:
Quite Possibly False
1
Trinity System, Freeman Federation
Macer Gant fell into step beside the tall, distinguished man as he exited the Freeman Merchant Bank. He’d been following him ever since the man got off the Trinity Surface shuttle. The man had entered the bank carrying an empty satchel and exited carrying a full one.
It felt strange, being back in Truxton utilities. He’d meant to return them along with his crew credentials but hadn’t found the time. Now they proved the perfect camouflage on a station where a third of the population worked in the Freeman Sector, and a third of the adult population of that sector worked for Truxton Trading. He was just one of a throng of Truxton hands on the Arcade, a big man with a backpack over his shoulder and his hands stuffed in his pockets. Only his size stood out. He was big, even for an islander, and he’d never felt more enormous.
Trinity Station bristled with surveillance sensors recording his every move, so he took a right when the man took a left, and sauntered along the Arcade toward the shadier part of the Freeman Sector, window shopped, and entered a tailor’s shop.
Mr. Pearse handed Macer a package and Macer continued out the shop’s rear entrance, into a service alley, that led to the roughest part of the Arcade, and from there to the roughest part of the ring. It would have been safer doing business on the spindle, but it would have been out of character for one, and for two, he needed to test a theory. According to the stationmaster it took three full-time crews working three shifts to keep the sensor net working on this part of the ring. There existed a chance he’d be recorded during the act but a better chance of getting away with it here than anywhere on the station, excepting the spindle. Anyone needing a clandestine ride had a better chance here, including Rik Severn and his comrades.
He entered the used- and salvaged-equipment yard. The grubby man behind the counter ignored him entirely.
Macer placed the package on the counter.
The man looked at it. There was no telling what lay inside. It could be a stack of money. It could be a bomb. It could be the severed hand of the last pinhole that had stood behind a counter and ignored Macer Gant. All anyone could tell by looking at it was that it had a Pearse’s label on the outside and the fingerprints of the man who had placed it on the counter all over it.
“You’re a loud thinker,” the man said.
“When I need to be. I want to buy a rockhopper.”
“I have two in working condition.”
“How many do you have fueled up and ready to go?”
“Two.”
“How many are big enough for a two-man team?”
“Two.”
“Do you see that man looking around outside, in the suit and carrying a satchel?”
“I do.”
“How many would we fit in comfortably?”
“Zero.”
“How about if it wasn’t us, but two spindly weasel-men and a bag of sporting equipment?”
“One.”
“I’ll take that one.”
“How would you like to pay?”
“I’ll give you all of what’s in this box or half of what’s in that man’s satchel. It’s a firm offer, as I’m in a hurry.”
“The satchel.”
“Wise man.”
The man saw the sign for the shop and came in. A bell attached to the door jingled.
Macer picked up the package. “I’ll examine the merchandise. If it’s as described, I’ll pay you for the machine when I come out for the keys.”
“And what if it’s not as described?”
“I’ll pay you for my time.”
“This way,” he said.
The tall man with the satchel had to fold nearly in half to cram himself inside.
The shop man began to close the hatch.
“Don’t,” Macer said. “We don’t want to expire locked in a tiny cell, like criminals. Go on now with you, and I’ll find you when I’m ready to boost.”
Macer glanced at the man jammed in beside him. “Close the hatch but don’t seal it.”
His father’s solicitor did as Macer asked.
“Thank you for meeting me here like this,” Macer said. “I know it’s a little out of your comfort zone. Did you bring the money?”
“I did,” mac Kenna said. “That and the documents for you to sign.”
“Good,” Macer said. “I’ll want those too. They’re just the evidence I’ll need when they come to murder me.”
“Murder you?”
“That’s right. But I don’t think they will, now that I have the money and the documents. Just leave them there, on the first officer’s console, and that will be all.”
“You’re to sign that you’re giving up claim to all your father’s lands and property without a fight, and then I’m to give you the money.”
“The deal was, you would bring me the money and the documents, and I’d read them. If I agreed to sign them, you’d give me the money.”
“The documents say that you’ll give up the claim. We’re both saying the same thing.”
“They also say Luther Gant was my father.”
“He is your father.”
“Maybe he is. But if I can establish enough doubt about that, then they won’t murder me. They’ll be too busy hunting down his comrades. By the time they get back to looking at me, maybe their bloodlust will be sated.”
“Who exactly is trying to murder you?”
“All my life this sword has been dangling over my head unknown to me. My father never breathed a word, not until his dying breath, and somehow they found out. Now they’re blaming me for his sins, and blood of my blood or not, I had no part of them, and want no part of their vengeance.”
“Whose vengeance?”
“The nic Cartaí. She’s hunting me down for crimes committed four hundred years before I was born!”
“Rumor on the station is that you’re Nuala nic Cartaí’s boy toy.”
“How likely is that?”
“You’ve been seen in her company. Repeatedly.”
“I’m her toy, all right. She’s been toying with me, like a tiger with a pup.”
Macer could see the gears behind the solicitor’s eyes turning. “What do you intend to use this money for?”
“My escape.”
“And the papers?”
“The Enemy,” Macer said.
The lawyer flinched.
“I don’t know who they are,” Macer said, “but my father was one of them, and he said as much as he lay dying. I think that Shayna was one of them, or in league with them, and now she’s dead, whoever’s still pushing this claim forward is either the Enemy or their vassal. And when I give Nuala nic Cartaí those papers, she’ll go after whoever the named party is that’s pushing it, and while she’s looking the other way, I’ll be stealing a starship and jetting out of the system.”
“That’s a ridiculous plan.”
“It’s a done deal, if I can buy this rockhopper and shove off before anyone notices.”
“One man, stealing a starship? It can’t be done.”
“It can, if the ship wants to be stolen. There’s this vessel in the Boneyard, and the only reason it’s languishing there is because its superluminal drive is locked down. The crew wants to jet. The stationmaster wants the ship gone. Even Truxton would be glad if it just disappeared.”
“So you’re going to find the key to that lock, and steal it.”
“I don’t need to.” Macer grinned. “I have the key in my pocket.”
“Is that what’s vibrating in there?”
“It isn’t.”
“It’s too slow, a rockhopper,” mac Kenna said. “You need a faster vessel.”
“I thought of that, but I didn’t think I could squeeze you for the price of a longboat.”
“It’s not me you’re squeezing, but your father’s rightful heirs.”
“Up until recently I thought that was me.”
“It might have been, if you weren’t so dim with numbers.”
“And words,” Macer said.
“You were a slow learner,” mac Kenna said.
“I’m slow because I’m thorough.”
“Whatever the reason, you were cut from the team early on.”
“You’re saying I’m like a lone wolf.”
“More like the slowest calf in the herd.”
“You don’t like me much.”
“I don’t, and years of holding it in are erupting out all at once. Luther wouldn’t hear a bad word about you. And as to getting rid of you? He made a lot of enemies, carrying you like that knapsack there beside you.”
“But you’ll help me.”
“Of course I will. I’ve dreamed of the day I could send you off.”
“Then I’ll need more money to buy a longboat.”
Mac Kenna laughed. “Only a fool buys what they can lease. And only a bigger fool leases what they can borrow. I’ll call my brother—"
“The barrister?”
“How many brothers do you think I have?”
“I don’t know. How many?”
“I’ll call my brother, the barrister, and we’ll pick you up in his private yacht. We’ll run you out to the Boneyard and drop you off personally.”
“I’ll meet you on the spindle. You can call me with the mooring number.”
“You’ll meet us on the ring at the address I’ll jot down on a piece of flash paper. People with private yachts don’t dock at the spindle.”
“I wouldn’t know that, having never owned a private yacht.”
“You might have owned this one if you weren’t such a gormless idiot.”
“Now you’re just being abusive.”
“You’re right, I am. There’s twice as much money in this bag as it takes to buy a rockhopper.”
“I know that now, having talked your man down earlier.”
“I suppose you would have run off with the rest.”
“I would have left it with you, on account.”
“And me carrying a sack of money through this neighborhood?”
“No one knows there’s any money in that satchel but you. I don’t even know it, having only your word that it’s in there.”
“They would have seen you flashing it, paying the clerk. You couldn’t have picked a worse place to carry untraceable bills.”
