Gulliver Station: Revolution

Gulliver Station: Revolution

By Connie Cockrell

Published by 2nd Wind Press at Smashwords

Copyright © 2014 by Connie Cockrell

Cover Art by Connie Cockrell

BSF Light Speed Frigate Class original art by: Dingo57 via SketchUp 3D Warehouse

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 9781311030610

Dedication

To all of the family, friends, and acquaintances who encouraged and supported me in this long journey.

Acknowledgements

To Diane Nash, Audrey Wilson, and Tim and Ruth Fleming for editing and beta reading this manuscript. To Randy Cockrell for doing the final line edits. To my friends at Forward Motion (http://www.fmwriters.com) and to Power Writing Hour for their support.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Chapter One

Jolene Harris, Jo to her friends, flipped the final toggles on the ship's board in front of her. Adirondack confirms station umbilicals attached.

Welcome to Gulliver Station, Adirondack. Station Control out.

She scrubbed her fingertips through her short, grey hair as she leaned back into the command chair. She opened the comm link to the Captain, Talisa Vien. Captain, we're docked.

I'll be there in half an hour, Talisa yawned. Go ahead and post our cargo and our shopping list. I'll grab a shower then be out to relieve you.

Take your time, Captain. Everything is under control. Jo signed off then punched comms for the rest of the crew. Ship's docked, people. Cargo is being posted to the station boards. Let's look lively.

Josh Woodhill was to her left. Josh was lead comms tech for the Adirondack, a position he earned when Jo first signed onto the ship and Talisa was promoted to First Officer. His hair, what was left of it, was grey. Josh, go ahead and get something to eat. The rest of the crew will be in the galley soon and there won't be room enough in there to get a cup of coffee.

Excellent idea, Jo. He transferred the boards to her and headed to the rear of the bridge where the galley was located. The ceiling lights made the ring of fuzzy white hair look like a halo. Can I bring you something?

Cup of tea, please. Thanks. The Adirondack, a now-aging space freighter, had come out of hyperspace three days ago but she still felt the lingering effects of the jump and the trank they all took to get through faster-than-light jumps. She grimaced. Comes of being over sixty, she thought.

He waved acknowledgement and left the bridge. Alone now, Jo punched in the code for the Space Force's office on Gulliver. The Space Force maintained a presence on Level 9, including ports, offices, and barracks as part of their mission in this sector of space. Her handler was Lieutenant Berger Atwood. She met him three years ago when the Adirondack docked at Gulliver Station. The Space Force officers didn't stay in one place long. Atwood was her..., she counted on her fingers, tenth, no eleventh, contact within the office.

Lieutenant Atwood, please, she asked the young woman who answered. First Officer Harris from The Adirondack.

Jolene waited for the call to transfer to the lieutenant. Has it been forty years already? She gave her head a tiny shake. That first encounter with Gulliver Station was a doosy. An experience she hoped never to repeat. The result of that first meeting made her a contact for the Space Force and for both Gulliver Station's Underground revolution and one of its two criminal factions. A spy really.

Lt. Atwood, here.

Bergen, nice to hear you again. Jo tried to get comfortable in her chair. I've got your reports.

Good to hear from you, Jo. No problems on the run in?

No, the jump points were all clear. I picked up packages for the Underground and for The Family. Usual drop? They're going to want those packages yesterday.

I know, Jo. Drop them at the usual spot and I'll get the team to open them, make copies, reseal them and get them back to you ASAP.

Thanks, Bergen. I'll get off the ship soonest.

Take care, Jo, he said.

Will do, LT. Out. Jo cut the link. She moved up onto the edge of her chair and stretched. Joints popped and cracked. Josh picked that moment to bring her tea.

Here you go, Jo. I'll be back in a few. The crew is filtering into the galley now.

She inhaled the fragrance of the tea. I'm glad we're here. This tea is getting boring. I'm ready for something new.

He laughed. Yeah, everything in the galley is getting boring. I'm ready to hit the restaurants and try something other than frozen pre-packs. I'll get my sandwich and get back right away.

Take your time. I've got the boards covered.

#

Sean Morrow was sitting in The Family's clubhouse, playing cards with the other lieutenants. You have got to be kidding, he threw his cards down. You won with a pair of three's?

Flynn Irwin roared, You fall for it every time, Sean. You've only yerself to blame. He pulled the pot to his side of the table while the rest of the players laughed.

A young man, hardly out of his teens hurried up to the table. Sean waved him over. The boy whispered in his ear. Sean nodded and the boy hurried off.

That's it for me, boyo's. He bowed to Dacey Garr. She was the lieutenant over The Family's prostitution racket on Gulliver Station. Fair, Dacey. I'm sorry but duty calls. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it.

Stop it, you rogue. She pulled her hand away. You just want to leave because you're losing.

True, he stood up. But also true I have some business to take care of.

He left the table to the laughter of the players.

Once outside of the clubhouse, a space The Family had held on Level 2 since the station was founded, he hurried to the nearest Maglev and got on. It was a short ride to the elevators and up to Level 8 where his boss, Kenna Gillespie, had her office.

Kenna's secretary, Kate Jamison, buzzed him through the locked office door. The Firm, their rival criminal syndicate, had a hit out on Kenna. The Firm had had permanent death threats out on all of The Family's leaders for generations. As soon as a new person took the reins of the operation, The Firm made sure word got out that a large reward awaited the man, woman or child who killed them.

Sean opened the door and went in. He was an attractive man though his black hair was now more salt than pepper. Despite his age, he still moved with the effortless grace decades of martial arts training had given him. The office was decorated in woodland motif: pastel green walls, wooden decorations, and lots of plants. It seemed like too many plants to Sean but it wasn't his office. Kenna, he said as soon as he was through the door. The Adirondack has docked.

She looked up from the pad on her desktop. Have a seat, Sean. She waved him to the chairs in front of her glass-topped desk. Kenna was younger than Sean by about fifteen years but she was still attractive even in her mid-fifty's. She had her grandmother Erin's blonde hair which she kept dyed, but unlike her grandmother, Kenna kept her hair cut short.

Eyes the color of sapphires watched him take a seat. Need a cup of coffee?

No, thanks, he said as he settled into the chair. Those eyes scared the daylights out of him when he first met her. It felt like lasers staring him down. She was a formidable woman, as tough as her father and grandmother combined. He was surprised she even knew about him. He was just the guy the Level 4 hawkers reported to.

You're the man I need as a lieutenant, Sean, she told him at their first meeting after she took over the reins of the crime syndicate from her father. I don't like bullies and too many of the men my father promoted have more brawn than brain.

He was flattered and flustered at the same time. She meant it. Men he'd grown up under were quietly replaced. The Family became both a politer world and more profitable. Kenna had a plan and worked it. He was glad. The rough stuff never appealed to him though he'd had to do some rough stuff to protect himself and The Family.

She got right to business. When do you think Harris will deliver the package?

It always takes at least a day. She's the First Officer, so it's not always easy for her to get away, Sean told her.

Fine. Do we know what's in the package?

Sean shrugged. Like the message said, it's supposed to be plans for a new weapon. It's supposed to be usable within the Station but better than the stunners in use now. But who knows?

Kenna nodded. It would be nice to be a step ahead of The Firm. Patrick McMahon takes too much after his grandfather James. Ruthless is another word for cruel and bully. Otherwise why keep up the charade of a hit on me all these years.

Sean nodded. Rumor is that his son Colin is worse. And he's chomping at the bit to take over for his father.

Hmmm, Kenna responded. How old is Colin now? Thirty?

Thirty-three. He's ready, or he thinks he is, to take over his old man's job.

Kenna sighed. That organization has become worse and worse. I had to have StaSec break up more illegal prostitution houses last week. He kidnaps young women and makes them work for nothing, then steals little kids from the Dispossessed and sells them to the highest bidder. Damn! She slapped her hand on the table, forehead furrowed with aggravation.

Sean nodded again. That was one of the things he liked about The Family. There were boundaries. He stood up. I'll let you know when I get the package.

Good. Make sure it's the plans and take it directly to the labs. I don't need to see it.

What if it isn't the plans?

We'll figure that out when you open it up.

He nodded and left.

#

Colin answered his apartment doorbell. A moderate 1.82 meters tall, Colin was slim with a face some called aristocratic. His nose was straight between grey-blue eyes but his mouth was thin, as though it hurt to smile. He wore his jet-black hair short but slicked back, looking as if he moved so fast it plastered against his head. He moved with confidence but without the grace years of training would have offered him.

Ariel, how good of you to come. He slipped his arm around the waist of the woman at the door and pulled her in close. They kissed, a deep, breathtaking kiss that demonstrated they'd been together for awhile.

Ariel broke away. Your father will see.

Colin pulled her back to him. He's in the kitchen, and kissed her again before he pulled her into the apartment. Sit. Something to drink?

Whisky, she said as she walked into the living area behind him. The apartment, inherited from his father, was four times the size of the original two hundred and seventy-nine square meter luxury apartment the station originally rented to the wealthy. Decorated in all real leather furniture, oriental carpets and some of the station's finest art on the walls, this was a male retreat.

At thirty-seven, Ariel's 1.6 meter frame was slender. She moved like a bird, in fast, sharp jabs. Today her long, nearly orange hair was done up in a French twist, complementing the severely tailored tunic and skirt in tweed that hugged her frame. Pale blue eyes went from flirtatious to icy. Father was being senile all afternoon.

Colin selected a crystal decanter from the collection on the sideboard and poured two fingers into a squat, matching crystal glass. This should help take the taste out of your mouth.

Colin was handing it to her when his father, Patrick McMahon, came out of the kitchen carrying a small platter. Oh, Ariel. I didn't hear the bell. Glad you could make it. He placed the platter, filled with a selection of hor d'oeuvres, on the coffee table.

Ariel picked up a napkin and selected a puff pastry from the tray. She caught Colin's eye and while Patrick was helping himself to the bar, licked the pastry suggestively before biting it in half.

Colin mouthed the word, Later, just before his father turned around.

Let's get started, shall we, Patrick said as he moved to the sofa. Patrick was pure Irish descent. Age and fine dining had turned his 1.79 meters blocky. He moved like an aging bull, charging straight at everything. Liver spots dotted his hands and his once black hair was now silver and much thinner on top. Dark blue eyes were red-rimmed with age.

Colin selected the armchair at the end of the coffee table. Why'd you arrange for us to meet, Dad?

I want to talk about where The Firm is headed, Colin, and I don't want half of the organization to know what's going on before I say the words.

So, we're meeting here? Ariel asked.

Exactly, Patrick said. He took one of the appetizers, ate it and wiped his fingers on his napkin. We're still evenly matched with The Family. One or the other of us pulls ahead for a little while then the other catches up. It's time we eliminated the competition.

Colin sat up from his relaxed position in the chair. Why now, Dad?

Patrick looked at his son. I'm over seventy, son. Soon the organization will be yours. I mean to have it arranged that you receive the only syndicate on Gulliver Station.

Colin put on a modest demeanor. Why, Dad, that's…, I don't know what to say!

Ariel kicked off her shoes and curled her long legs up under her in the leather chair. And why am I here, Mr. McMahon?

Patrick sipped from his glass of whisky. Because I know that you two, he pointed at each of them with his glass as he settled back onto the sofa, are a couple.

Colin shot a quick glance at Ariel.

I know, Patrick continued. You've kept it a secret but I have resources. I've known since you first started seeing each other.

Ariel shrugged, So why am I here?

You make a good team. An alliance between you two will guarantee the success of The Firm.

Ariel sipped at her drink. Only one problem with that, Mr. McMahon. My father is still the Station Manager.

Patrick waved the comment away. He won't be for long. The first thing we're going to do is get you appointed Station Manager.

That comment stopped her cold. She frowned. My father has said repeatedly that he's not ready for retirement.

Your father is seventy-five years old. He took over as Station Manager after his father, Art, died. Like his father, he's been a Family boot licker from the start. He needs to go.

Ariel smiled. How shall we get that to happen?

All in good time. Patrick said. The whole point is for The Family to be destroyed. With you as Station Manager and Colin as my heir, we'll control Gulliver Station. That goody two-shoe bitch, Kenna Gillespie, will be eliminated, along with her interference in our business.

Colin watched as his father grew red in the face. Colin knew what his father was referring to. The child brothels and child selling were unsavory to his father but he considered them legitimate business.

Colin considered those child brothels more than just business. He had the best child of every new lot delivered to a second apartment he kept to himself. Girl or