SAILING THE ASTRAL TIDES

Chapter One

The radiant burst of killing energy momentarily blinded Gambrel Sarjean. When his vision cleared, he counted three dead bodies. With a glance beyond the alley to see if anyone noticed the fight, he holstered his twin Megaburst blasters and walked away.

Only one man was left to kill before he fulfilled his promise to Lindan Mulis. Would she approve of his actions over the last fifteen years? Probably not. The girl had held strange beliefs about right and wrong. But he would give her death meaning. Her life for his. Not a fair-trade.

A slow scan of the street before a cautious step out of the alley. No sense in taking chances. Not now. Dry heat wiped away the sweat on his brow, but he pulled a wide scarf around his head like a hood. Gambrel ducked his head and strolled at a casual pace down the sidewalk. He wasn’t looking for trouble.

By listening to rumors and gossip and using old-fashioned blackmail, he spent years following Handid and his murderous gang across the galaxy. From one planet to another, he existed only to kill. Handid would be last. But the man stayed far out of reach though his men weren’t so lucky.

Rangel the Timid, his latest informant, reluctantly shared information. It was tell what he knew or lose a hand. Handid was scheduled to leave Ancade soon.

The world of Ancade knew its own share of trouble these days. Gambrel needed to find a ride off this hot rock. Little time remained. With its sun dying and pulling the smaller planet ever closer, a day fast approached when internal forces would tear it apart. Would the world explode on its own before the sun giant that sustained it for millenniums suck it into the burning gases?

He ducked to enter a tavern door. At almost seven feet tall, he stood out in every crowd. Maybe he fell short of stature on Ambiax where the average man measured over nine feet. Here the men did well to reach six, while the women were shorter still. Which meant most came only to his shoulder. Ancade boasted comely females, but none he’d seen interested him. In fact, few had attracted him since Lindan’s death.

Not surprising, considering women meant trouble. Lindan’s death proved that. Mixing with the opposite sex wasn’t worth the effort. At times, however, his groin swelled from the mere sight of a woman’s creamy skin or the fragrance of her nearness. He always fought the surge of lust, replaced it with plans for revenge. 

Thankful for the Universal language spoken here, he ordered a stout-looking brew then sat in shadows and watched who came and went. Handid wouldn’t seek him after Gambrel killed the last of his men, but someone else might be looking for him. Enemies from his past haunted him, in dreams if not reality. So, he remained vigilant.

“Here ye are, sire.” A fat man placed a glass of shimmering blue brew in front of Gambrel. He swallowed a deep drought of the liquid and repressed the hard shiver that sped down his spine. Damn, the shit hit his guts with the kick of a Dasaraian sand worm at full speed.

Using his hand to hide a cough, he shifted his gaze from the glass of fluid fire to the tavern man. “Rumor has it the whole place is leaving soon.” He wiped his mouth and took a smaller sip as the man beamed.

“Right, sire. We Ancadians set sail tomorrow at midmorning.” An idiotic smile spread across his round face.

“Will everyone leave?” The brew seemed easier to handle now. The smaller the sips, the less its bite.

“No, sorry to say. Those who choose to stay do so at their own peril. They gather the last of the crops, hides and materials that we cannot take aboard ship. The High Council estimates Ancade has as few as two weeks left. Anyone around in the next few days risks being pulled in by Grandmier’s gravitational force.”

“Let me get this straight.” Gambrel turned. The fact that he squinted at the blurred figure next to him didn’t bother him. “Every one of these planet will board a flying ship and take off into space?” He shook his head then decided that wasn’t a good idea.

“More or less.”

“But there’s no such thing as this kind of ship in space. Spaceships enclose passengers and create an atmosphere. But not open ships.” Gambrel sputtered, appalled at the idea of stepping on to an open deck surrounded with nothing to breathe. “Never work.”

“Has for centuries, sire. The Ancadians make their living, sailing the astral tides, selling and buying across the galaxy. When you came here, didn’t you come into the dock on the barge?” The man wiped a sweat ring from beneath Gambrel’s half empty glass.

“Sure I did, and it scared the piss out of me. No sides, nothing between unbreatheable space and me. Got off fast, too.”

“Then you missed seeing the docks at Mither Street. The last ships anchor there. A beautiful sight, if I say so. Ancadians pride themselves on their ships, home to our ancestors long before finding this place. The rest of the fleet is anchored above us in space.”

“Can I book passage on one of them?” Gambrel’s timing wasn’t good. He needed to leave. Not get stuck here with an uncertain departure time.

“Sorry, they’re full. Commercial ships and space carriers still take passengers, but their leave times are a bit chancy, if you know what I mean.”

Those last few spacers would leave as late as possible in order to fill their cargo holes before hauling ass. Damn, he’d planned on getting a good day’s rest before beginning his search for Handid. Now his plans called for a more immediate departure.

According to information he squeezed out of that vermin on Botwax, Handid had lived on this planet at least five years. So, he would have an escape plan. Would he go with the fleet tomorrow or stay and scrounge the last of the planet’s treasures?

Gambrel turned back to his drink and asked nothing further. With no one left to talk to, the fat man ambled away. Hunched shoulders and hands wrapped tightly about his mug, Gambrel sought a solution to his problem. In a foul mood, he cocked an eye at the window where strong sunlight filtered through the dark curtains. Damn, this sun and its ever-lasting day. Nighttime and no darkness to give ease.

A sense of hopelessness crept into his soul. Happier times seemed long ago. Before Handid and his men set the trap to kill him and wound up killing Lindan instead, he remembered laughter and smiles. Girlish giggles still rang faintly in his memory. Those memories had faded over the years until he sat with a glass of brew that blurred his mind, and no one to call friend. No one to take him off this God-forsaken planet. A mission lay upon him, but a looming sense of futility threatened to overwhelm him. For a minute, he wondered if the drink caused this despair or if he had reached a turning point in his life.

“Father?” A low feminine voice at his back caught his attention, diverting his maudlin thoughts to something more pleasant. “I thought perhaps you would be here with Jacon.”

Two men greet the woman. Both received a kiss. Gambrel heard the soft smacking of lips against skin. Such a pleasant feminine greeting awakened his manhood before he realized it. He sat, hard as a rock, with no way to dampen the desire. To be honest, at that point, he welcomed the conversation. The gentle voice took his mind off his own problems.

“Will you come home soon, Father?”

Something soft swished against Gambrel’s arm. He tucked his head low and looked around his broad shoulder. Two men sat across from each other at a wide table. The woman sat with her back to him. The sweep of her cloak had touched him. A hood hid her face, but his imagination filled in a form to match her soothing speech.

Curiosity raised its head for the first time in years. What did the woman look like? Why did she seek her father so late? Was she alone? Did a man wait for her at home? All these questions a friend asked, but he called no man—or woman, for that matter—friend. As he listened to their quiet words, his curiosity reflected memories of happier times and concern for his future.