Pirates of the Outrigger Rift Read Online Free PDF Page B

launch.
    Sai stood for a time, then began pacing back and forth at the blast doors to dock B, berth ten. She’d been waiting an hour and a half.
    “Shit!” she said for the hundredth time.
    She heard someone whistling down the walkway. Sai ducked in the threshold and readied her blade. The echoing tunnel prevented her from locating where the sound was coming from.
    Then she heard singing.
    “ … The next thing I heard was that lonesome sound, the drive kicking in, as they left the ground. And that’s how my baby spaced out …” It was Hank’s voice.
    Sai put away her whisperblade and stepped out of the doorway, hands resting on her hips.
    Hank saw her and waved. “Hi, honey. Sorry I’m late.”
    “Where were you? I’ve been waiting for over an hour!”
    “I had to take care of some business that got a little more complicated than I thought. We can leave in a few minutes.”
    “What about the fuel?”
    “Already loaded. I paid the dockmaster to send one of his guys over and do it earlier,” Hank said, walking to the ship and keying the door mechanism. “Any more questions?”
    “No, let’s just get off this damn planet.”
    The door opened. “After you, darlin’,” Hank said, motioning for her to enter.
    Sai gave the exterior of the ship a once-over before going inside. It was a squat, well-worn Pioneer-class scout ship, renovated for use as a trading vessel. “Can you even get this shit bucket off the ground?”
    “What? My Elsa ? Why she’s as fine a ship as I’ve ever flown. Sturdy as a rock.”
    “Rocks don’t fly.”
    “Look, if you’d rather wait for a commercial liner, that’s fine with me, but the deposit is non-refundable.”
    Sai grumbled, but she followed as Hank led her up the ramp to the inner airlock. They cycled through and stepped into the cramped living quarters, which consisted of two sleeping bunks, a nutrition station, and a small workspace. Mostly it was cramped because of the trash that littered the floor and the piles of dirty laundry.
    “Oh my,” Sai said. “When’s the last time you cleaned this place?”
    “Clean?” Hank said, as if he’d never heard the word.
    Sai fanned a hand before her face and wrinkled her nose. “It smells like something died in here.”
    Hank shrugged and walked forward to the cockpit.
    “We need to get going. You can sit up here with me if you promise not to touch anything.”
    Sai followed him.
    “Take a seat.” Hank punched a few buttons and the engines thrummed to life.
    Sai sat in the copilot’s chair. “Thanks.”
    She watched as he deftly checked status lights and ran through pre-launch checklists. He moved efficiently, with military precision. It was obvious that the man was in his element. Perhaps there was more to Hank Jensen than his drunken buffoon act.
    “Clearance codes coming through. You’d better strap in,” Hank said, fastening his G-harness.
    He hit a bank of switches, and the engine’s dull throb cranked into a high-pitched whine that set Sai’s teeth chattering. Hank pushed the nav-control, and fusion fire erupted from the exhaust ports. The ship shot skyward as the G-forces slammed her back in her seat.
    Out the front viewport, Sai watched the ground retreat and rush by in a blur as the ship shot up and forward, apparently on automatic. She scanned the control console, reaching out with her mind to sense the control circuits. The finer points of the navigational controls eluded her, but the computer interface was remarkably sophisticated. She scanned deeper. Complex patterns flashed across the control net. Her mind reached out to the circuitry and began to sort through the pathways of impulses.
    “Stop it!” Elsa said, her voice emanating from the com.
    “Oh my God,” Sai said.
    “What’s wrong?” Hank asked.
    Lurking beneath the navigational controls, the life support monitors, the hydraulics and cables, Sai detected a sentient entity. “What kind of hardware do you have controlling this