Read HeartStorm (HeartFast Series Book 3) Online

Authors: Linda Mooney

Tags: #space ships, #sci-fi, #sensuous, #Romance, #Science Fiction, #erotic, #outer space, #super powers, #superheroes, #other worlds

HeartStorm (HeartFast Series Book 3) (25 page)

            A minute of silence stretched into two before Disaster asked, "How long should we hang around for Hunter and Seeker to return? Star?"

            She shook her head. "I don't sense anything. I'm sorry."

            "It will take Hunter a while to get to the prison moon and back," Time Merchant noted. "Not counting how long Seeker will need to get some answers."

            "All right," Corona commented. "So what do we do in the meantime?"

            "We go to the landing bay," Deceiver replied. "We need to rearrange the cradles so we can get
Transport Four
inside. And we're still not finished with
Two's
repairs. Star, will you let us know when you hear from Hunter?"

            "Yes. Of course."

            "Good. Well, I hate to sound like worn-out audio loop, but let's get to work."

            For once, no one grumbled as they left the meeting room.

 

 

Chapter Thirty-One

Four

 

 

            Time dragged. Minutes became hours. Late that afternoon, Star excused herself to pump her milk, and left the others to continue working in the landing bay.

            Wooly went over to where Sender was sitting at the comm board and helping to map the holes in
Two's
fuselage. She glanced up, noticed it was him, and gave him a warm smile. "Hey," she whispered.

            "Hey to you, too," he answered in the same soft voice. Motioning to the rest of the group, he added, "Is it usually this somber?"

            She eyed the far wall where Condemner and Commander were measuring out the floor space for the new cradle. "Not always, but it comes with the job." She gave him another smile. "We're not exactly an entertainment group."

            Wooly snorted. "I didn't expect you to be. I can't imagine how this place was, right after the Ombitra attacked. Bet it was scary."

            "That's not the half of it. Try scary with a hefty dose of depression."

            "Wow. And then when four of you got lost in that wormhole... I swear the entire galaxy went into mourning."

            He saw Sender's expression momentarily lapse into sadness, and he laid a hand on her arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dredge up bad memories."

            "No. It's all right. After all, they did return to us. That's what counts, right? Having family you thought was gone forever suddenly showing up alive and well."

            Some information popped up on her screen, which she relayed. Wooly narrowed his eyes at the display. "What are you doing?"

            "It's a little program Challenger came up with. Morning Fire and Corona are combing the inner hull with a sensory device that pinpoints every weak area and hole. The device sends a record of that area, so that Provoker, Disaster, and Animator can follow behind and repair those spots."

            Wooly gave a noncommittal grunt. "Sounds like it's tedious work." 

            Sender sighed. "You got that right." She looked at him. "You've never done hull repairs before?"

            "No. I've always been assigned to engineering."

            He remained standing there, peering over her shoulder. He knew he should get back to what he was doing, but he wasn't keen on leaving the brunette's side.

            "Hey."

            "Hey again," she automatically replied, and giggled.

            Wooly grinned. "Listen, I've come up with a couple of ideas for my Guardian name, and I thought I'd run them by you. Care to hear them? Tell me what you think?"

            "Go ahead."

            "Very well. How about The Doer?"

            She made a face. "What's your other possibility?"

            "Don't like that one?"

            Seeker shook her head. "Doer doesn't fit you, in my opinion."

            "All right. How about The Fixer?"

            "Wooly..."

            "I've also been considering The Fixonator."

            This time he got a laugh out of her.

            "Or Captain Repair."

            "Wooly!" She laid a hand on his arm as she continued to laugh. "Wooly, stop that. You make it sound like you're the guy who has to go in to mop up everyone else's messes!" She sobered. "Don't worry about what to call yourself right now. Give it a little time. The right name will come to you. That, or one of us will drop one on you that you'll like. Who knows?"

            "Guess you're right," he told her. "Well, guess I better get back to my post if I plan to stay in everybody's good graces. Talk to you later." Giving her a little wave, he made his way over to where Commander was eyeing the northeast corner of the room. The Guardian gave him a cursory glance.

            "What's up, Wooly?"

            "Not much. I was observing how you're spotting and patching that hull on
Two.
"

            "And?"

            "Why are you using a two-step method? Why not patch as you locate? Sure would save a lot of time and effort."

            Commander lifted an eyebrow at him. "Basically because the size, depth, and density of each area isn't consistent. We don't have any equipment that can spot and repair simultaneously. Spotting is easy. It's calibrating the sealer to repair each area that's time-consuming." Both eyebrows lifted, silently asking the young man a question, which Wooly immediately understood.

            "What if I could come up with a sealer that could do both spot and patch?"

            "It's been tried before," Condemner remarked, walking up to join them. "To no great success, as you might have guessed by now."

            Wooly looked over at the medium-sized transport. "And doing this bit-by-bit method is more feasible than completely re-wrapping the ship and giving it a whole new hull?"

            Condemner gave him a crooked grin. "Something you need to understand, Wooly, is that a new hull would cost a wad of cred. Despite the fact that this section of the galaxy considers us to be the ultimate defenders of all inhabited worlds, we're not swimming in money. In fact, there are times the paychecks are delayed, or short. We often can't upgrade some equipment, or purchase new materials. But somehow, eventually, Deceiver manages to even up. We subsist only because of donations. Get what I'm saying?"

            "Is that why Guardian Command has yet to finish rebuilding that top floor?" Wooly inquired, pointing upward.

            Commander nodded. "Exactly. When the money becomes available, Deceiver has to decide where it goes, and how much. Personally, I think the man performs more miracles with the management side of running headquarters than he does as our leader."

            Wooly scratched the side of his nose as he mulled over what he'd learned. "Then, what you're saying is we don't ask for money, and we don't bill people for the jobs we do. We strictly rely on donations and such to remain self-sustainable."

            "Exactly." Condemner nodded, then grinned. "You haven't read the charter like Deceiver told you to, have you?"

            Wooly gave them an apologetic grin. "Not yet, but I will."

            "All right. So, let's assume you can make one of these spot and seal instruments, because I have the feeling this is where this whole conversation is leading up to. What then?" Commander inquired.

            "Well, is there anything that would prevent us from, let's say,
selling
it to the public?"

            Commander perched his rump on the edge of the table. "Sell what? The sealer you create?"

            "That. And maybe a few other odd inventions."

            Both Guardians looked at each other in amazement. "Let me get this straight," Condemner remarked. "You're asking if it’s possible that we sell, what? The patent rights to specific equipment?"

            "Equipment
you
plan to create?" Commander added.

            Wooly grinned. "Well, why not? What about it? Think Deceiver would object?"

            "Would Deceiver object to what?" A voice behind them inquired. The three men turned to see the Guardian leader advancing toward them.

            Commander rehashed what they had been discussing. Deceiver listened, slowly nodding his head until the three men were finished. "Of course, everything I come up with would still belong exclusively to the Guardians," Wooly hastened to add. "But we could contract some manufacturers to produce and sell the items."

            Deceiver bit his lips as he thought, giving Condemner a chance to say, "We wouldn't be breaking our charter, would we? We'd still be taking donations...of a sort."

            "Just think, Deceiver," Commander noted. "If Wooly came up with just one product, like a two-in-one sealer. One product. It might bring in enough funds to help alleviate all those sleepless nights you've been having these past several months, worrying about our expenses."

            "Gods, yes," Condemner chimed in. "Just think of all the space ports who'd purchase one of those things."

            Deceiver gave Wooly a curious stare. "A two-in-one sealer?"

            Wooly shrugged. "It...was an idea. I know we need one. I thought I could try my hand at cobbling one together, if only for our own use. I just need your approval to work on it."

            "You honestly think you can come up with one?"

            "Gods, after what I've seen, I think the boy can make just about anything you wish for," Commander drawled.

            Lifting his chin, Deceiver smiled. "I'll check with the chancellors to see if we can do this and be within our charter. Your suggestion sounds feasible. In the meantime, let's see what you can come up with. We've seen and tried lots of different prototypes, but none of them managed to do exactly what we needed. Even if the triumvirate nixes our proposal to have the item manufactured and sold for public consumption, that wouldn't prevent us from coming up with our own equipment for our exclusive use."

            A huge smile nearly split Wooly's face in two. "Oh, thank you, sir! I'll get started immediately. Commander, may I use your labs?"

            "Go ahead, kid. Knock yourself out."

            His grin widening, Wooly started for the exit when Blender's voice came over the intercom. "Hunter's on the way! Everyone report to the main hall! Code Two!"

            They ran for the meeting room to find Star already standing in the area where Hunter would appear. She stood with her eyes closed, her face turned upward, arms extended as if waiting to embrace him.

            This time no swirling black wisps preceded his return. When Hunter and Seeker appeared, Seeker stepped forward to address the group. Behind her, Hunter wrapped an arm around his wife and held her close.

            "We found the connection," the young psychic announced. "Omand Porith is Four."

            Provoker sat up. "He's what?"

            It was apparent Seeker was trying to contain her excitement. "There were
four
men who conspired to bring the Ombitra here. Four. Not three, as we initially believed. When they first met, they used numbers as their aliases. But later, when it came time to escape before the mothership arrived, they revealed their real names so they could contact and warn each other. Corin Sassidy went by the name of One. Tark was Two. Dr. Clearlian was Three."

            "And Porith was Four," Hunter intoned.

            "Why didn't we know about Porith from the beginning?" Condemner asked, glaring at Seeker. "You read Tark when Hunter brought him back, didn't you? You found the information about Clearlean and the Nimboid cloud and all. Why didn't you dig out Porith?"

            Seeker shook her head. "I should have gone deeper. I know that now. But at the time, with the attack and Star dying, I thought I got all the information we needed." She turned an apologetic face to them. "I promise it won't happen again."

            "So, now we know why Porith wanted Star and accepted the baby in exchange," Bruiser summed up. "What's our next step?"

            "Our next step?" Deceiver rose to his feet. "Hunter, Star, Seeker, Provoker, Bruiser, and Challenger. Take
Transport Four
and go after Porith and the baby."

            "And me."

            They turned in surprise to see Destiny standing beside her seat.

            "I must go with them," she stated firmly.

            Deceiver relented as he always did when she declared something. "All right. And Destiny. Seeker, when you get this guy, you dig as far as you need into our Mister Number Four, and make sure there isn't a five, six, seven, or how many else who may have had a hand in bringing this atrocity upon our world. And Star?"

            "Yes?"

            "Make that bastard pay."

            She smiled. "Gladly."

 

Chapter Thirty-Two

Nebula

 

 

            They were three parsecs away from Bena Tabular when Hunter turned the controls over to Challenger. "I'm going on ahead to do some scouting. See if I can find out where Porith took off to. I should be back before you reach the Tabular system," he told the others.

            "Explain how you think you're going to find Porith, when you have nothing to go by but his name," Provoker challenged. "You know Porith has enough aliases to outfit everyone at Guardian Command."

            "True. But I'm not tracking him." Hunter looked at his wife before adding, "I'm tracking my daughter."

            "Be careful," Star whispered, reaching out to touch his hand. "There's no telling what Porith would do if he thought we were after him."

            "He may already be thinking that, wouldn't he?" Bruiser spoke up.

            "Why would he?" Challenger responded. "There's constant drama going on at headquarters. We accept and ship criminals on a regular basis, so the news media isn't going to pay any more attention to one small nothing like DiMackerlyn. Especially now since we have that new blackout screen Commander placed over the base that prevents them from snooping."

Other books

Island Fever by Stevens, Shelli
Sharp_Objects by Gillian Flynn
Floral Depravity by Beverly Allen
The Third Option by Vince Flynn