The Lost Ship of the Tucker Rebellion - Marie Sexton Page 0,16

all goes according to plan, this log will be sent to select sources on Earth to be broadcast after the Legacy’s journey is underway.”

The screen went blank for a moment before coming back to life. This time, William Tucker wasn’t smiling. His brow was stained with something that looked like soot. His thinning hair stood in wild disarray. Alarms blared in the background as the captain began to speak.

“We’ve been betrayed. I can’t begin to guess how the Li’Vin found us, but they did. The Renegade is under siege. Three of my sister ships have already been destroyed. Thousands of lives have been lost.” He took a deep breath, clearly fighting tears. “I’ve heard nothing from the others. I can only pray that at least one of them gets to the Legacy.

“As for the Renegade—we won’t make it. Our propulsion systems have been destroyed, and our defenses are failing.” He wiped his brow, his hands shaking. “I have very little time. I’ve filled one of our emergency pods with the most valuable of our cargo. I’ve loaded all system logs onto this drive. My hope is that one of the remaining ships will find it and make use of it.

“To the people of Earth—you may never see this log, but if you do, know this: the Li’Vin never offered us warning. They never asked for our surrender. Their only purpose is to destroy us. If you didn’t believe me before, please believe me now: they are not our friends. They are not to be trusted.”

The screen went blank. The small room aboard the Jiminy felt unsettlingly quiet.

Marit was white-faced after watching the log. “So it was true. All of it. The rebellion and the colonists and the Li’Vin ship. And the mass murder.”

“It looks that way,” Laramie said quietly.

Marit sank into her chair, her hands visibly shaking. “This is huge.”

“Huge?” Denver said, reeling. “Christ, it’s a ticking time bomb.”

Marit and Laramie both looked at him, clearly not following.

“Look, we were already worried about how we’d unload the seeds and the biological components without attracting unwanted attention. But this—”

“It’s proof,” Laramie said. “This video will be worth ten times the rest of the pod. Think about it, Denver. This changes everything. We’ll be rich.”

“Forget rich,” Denver said, feeling like the others were missing the most important point. “OPAL, what other logs are stored on that system backup?”

“All other logs.”

Not helpful, as usual. “What about the navigation system? Are the nav logs there?”

Laramie perked up, catching on to what Denver was driving at.

“I have located files that are consistent with the Frontier 3.8 system used by twenty-third-century cargo vessels.”

“So you know where they were going?”

“Negative. The language utilized by the Frontier 3.8 is no longer in use.”

“You can’t read them?”

“They are Greek to me.”

“Greek?” Laramie said. “That can’t be right. Greek isn’t a computer language.”

“Who cares?” Denver moved closer, suddenly wanting to grab his brother and hold him tight, but he stopped a few steps short. “Don’t you see? That nav system contains the location of a Li’Vin ship capable of rapid interstellar travel. A ship already programmed with a destination in mind. This pod is a goddamned treasure map. Don’t you see what it leads to?”

The blood drained from Laramie’s face. His voice was a mere whisper. “A planet.”

“Yes. A planet with breathable air, and sunshine, and—”

“Gravity.” Laramie’s voice broke, and he shut his eyes tight. “Denver, don’t—”

“Real gravity, for god’s sake. Forget the money. Forget the years’ worth of medical treatment it could buy. We won’t need any of it.” Because a hospitable planet promised everything doctors predicted could cure Idiopathic Space-Induced Degenerative Disorder.

Laramie opened his eyes and met Denver’s gaze, and Denver knew his brother saw the problem as clearly as he did. But Marit obviously didn’t. “Guys,” she said. “You’re doing that thing again where you forget I don’t share your brain.”

Denver turned to her. “Space salvage has always been governed by the same rules they used to use for maritime salvage. Outside ten million kilometers of any known station, it’s fair game. But that rule isn’t going to apply to a Li’Vin ship with interstellar capability.”

“And it certainly won’t apply to a planet,” Laramie said.

“The minute we sell this video and it’s made public, every salvager, every military vessel— hell, everybody with a ship of any kind—is going to be out there hunting for that Li’Vin ship. Mars will confiscate the pod, and especially that log. And you can bet that even if they manage to find