The Chronicles of Riddick Read Online Free PDF Page B

reached toward him, fingers extended . . .
    Something jolted him awake. Hadn’t he been awake? A dream. He’d never had a dream where the other occupant had told him to think of the experience as a dream. What he knew to be true conflicted with what he knew ought to be true. Priding himself on his ability to resolve seeming contradictions and unable to do so this time, he grew tense.
    A glance at the ship’s instrumentation solved the problem for him. He was closing on his destination. Now was not the time to ponder the source of implausible visions.
    Clearing its electronic throat, the ship’s communicator snapped him forcefully back from nebulous realms inhabited by memories of distant dreams and fading visitations.
    The voice that barked at him via the communicator was an odd mix of emphatic and anxious. “Repeating . . . all spaceports and all landing facilities of Helion Prime, including those designated for emergency service, are closed to flights that have not originated from this locale. Unauthorized craft are prohibited from landing. Infractors will be fired upon. These regulations are in force until officially countermanded by the government of Helion Prime. Repeating . . .”
    Something went
bang
and the merc ship bounced violently. As it had not yet entered atmosphere, this was more than disconcerting. Whatever had struck Riddick’s craft had blown a chunk of communications gear right off the front. Hopefully, that was all that had been blown off. Nothing was yelling for his attention, and a rapid scan of monitoring instrumentation showed that hull integrity was still intact. Swiftly, his fingers began to dance over the manual controls.
    There was only one ship on him. It was a wicked-looking little one-pilot job, its external elegance more reflective of the advanced state of Helion technology than any demand of design. A second bump jolted Riddick, but instead of a proximity charge this one was caused by the merc craft’s swift dive into atmosphere. He was going down too steep and too fast. Even as the hull’s external temperature began to rise sharply, the ship’s dispersion field proceeded to compensate by dissipating the intense heat.
    At such speeds, only advanced computational navigation systems allowed the Helion fighter to materialize right alongside the merc ship. He could see the pilot, grim-faced, motioning for him to descend. Riddick nodded compliance and moved to adjust his position. Ever so slightly was all that was needed.
    Before the other pilot, or his inboard predictive gear, could react, the merc craft slipped underneath and into it. Debris flew from both craft. Riddick had timed the contact perfectly. Too much, and even at suborbital velocity both ships would have disintegrated. Too little, and he would simply have flashed past his attacker to emerge on the opposite side. But just enough, and one vessel or the other was likely to be severely disabled.
    As Riddick had intended, it was the other.
    The Helion fighter spiraled away, damaged and possibly out of control. Whether it would manage a successful touchdown or not now depended on the skill of its pilot and not the calculations of its instrumentation. Watching it disappear into the distance, Riddick shook his head slowly.
    “Never mess with a guy with a loaner.”
    He checked the monitors. The merc ship had sustained some damage from the deliberate collision. The longer it flew, the more likely that the damage would become severe, then fatal. That didn’t trouble him. Right now, all he wanted to do was get down in one piece. Whether the ship did so in sufficient shape to rise again or not concerned him considerably less. While maintaining the too-steep descent, he punched in some evasive maneuvers just in case the now departed pilot happened to have colleagues in the area and in the air.
    The ocean was green. Riddick had seen oceans of liquid methane as different in hue as they were brilliant. Green suited him. He’d always had an