Read an Excerpt
High Orbit Hero
A Blackmailed Teen's Struggle to Protect His Sister
By J.M. Krause
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2012 J.M. Krause
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-4529-4
Chapter One
"We picked our next little whore." Chin Hon pointed to the group of chatting schoolgirls in the holoview's two-meter cube. "Thought you might be interested." He bared his teeth in a fierce smile and adjusted the holoview.
Geoff Anders watched anxiously as the picture zoomed in on a girl with wavy chestnut hair, wide coffee-brown eyes, and a dimple in her right cheek. Barbara, his little sister! Geoff crossed his arms and clenched his fists underneath his elbows. Letting Chin and Lui see his anger and fear at them targeting his sister would not help his situation.
"What the hell do you want with her?" asked Geoff. "She's just a kid."
"Young is fun," Lui Ko said from the love seat on the other side of the holoview.
Chin smiled again, but his obsidian eyes burned into Geoff with no trace of humor. He stood up. Shorter than average, he still looked down at Geoff.
"She's got something I want," Chin said. His straight black hair brushed the shoulders of his embroidered magenta shirt. Prominent cheekbones made his black eyes appear small.
"What's that?" Even as he asked, Geoff realized Chin was only interested in Barbara as a means to control Geoff.
"There's a Taurid who's mouthing off and making waves," said Chin. "She's my way to get him back in line."
"You could try talking to the guy," Geoff said.
"I gave instructions. You ignored them. Now you pay."
"What?" asked Geoff. Ion-blasted, mutant hell! They were going to order him to lift something from a place with real security, so he would end up in youth rehabilitation or jail. His parents would blow orbit.
Lui tossed his long braid behind his shoulder and chuckled. His melonlike cheeks bunched up, nearly hiding his milk-chocolate eyes. His soft bulk jiggled beneath his navy shirt and pants that looked like silk pajamas.
Ice trickled down Geoff's spine. How many things worse than rehab were there?
"You know what the Simba is?" asked Chin.
"Yeah," replied Geoff. Chin made a come-on gesture, so Geoff added, "It's a dance." It was a competition dance, like Latino and ballroom dancing. He knew that because Barbara and their mother watched the dance shows on the holoview.
"At least you didn't say gay guy's dance," said Chin. "Lui and I used to dance. When he was skinny, we won our share of trophy money."
Lui made a rude gesture in Chin's direction.
Ignoring him, Chin continued, "There's a team in a rival family polishing their boots for the October competition. I want to beat them again, but since Lui'd die onstage, I need a new partner. You're it."
"Huh?" Geoff tried to think of a way out. "I can't dance."
Lui laughed and said, "That's the fun part."
"You have a pretty face and a feel for music," said Chin. "You'll have to learn the rest. That or—" He glanced at the image of Barbara frozen in the holoview and raised his eyebrows.
Geoff said, "Spell it out."
"You having trouble getting the message?" asked Lui.
Geoff kept his eyes on Chin's.
"Say it, and give your word," he insisted.
"Maybe you're smarter than you look," Chin said. "We won't touch your sister if you train with me and dance in the competition. You have my word."
"All right." Even as Geoff agreed, he wished he could take it back. He felt sick at the sight of Chin's grin.
"Can you touch your toes?" Lui asked.
"What?" asked Geoff.
"You gotta be flexible to dance," said Lui. "Can you touch your toes?"
"Yeah." Geoff had been in a gymnastics club until a few years ago. He had been very flexible then and still was.
"Here." Chin tossed a data card that was half the size of his palm and as thick as his fingernails across the room.
Geoff picked the strip of plastic out of the air.
"Do those exercises at least four times a day," Chin ordered. "Don't be stupid and pull a muscle, or I'll get the Mad Medic to fix you. It's quick, but it hurts a helluva lot worse than any injury."
"I got school and a job," Geoff said. "When do you expect me to exercise?"
"In the morning, at noon, after school, and at night," Chin listed. "Do it. I'll know if you don't."
"Yeah." Geoff pocketed the card. He hated mornings. He never got up until the last possible second.
"You don't work at the arcade 'til Friday this week," said Chin. "Tonight, tomorrow, and Thursday, meet us at the rec center on the heavy deck, entrance C, at 2055. Wear a snug T-shirt and bicycle shorts."
"Yeah." If they knew when he worked, they must have been planning this long enough to steal a schedule. Or else the families making up the Lung Organization owned the arcade.
"Don't tell anyone," Chin ordered. "If word gets out I'm dancing this fall—"
Chin did not complete the sentence, but Geoff nodded to indicate he got the message.
"Wait for Trevor out front." Chin pointed to the door.
Geoff left the apartment and stomped down the parquet floor, not that stomping was very effective in the two-thirds gravity of this deck. He was really deep-spaced without an air tank. Why did he have a blasted sister anyway?
By the time Geoff reached the front entrance and stepped out into the wide station corridor, he admitted the mess he was in had a lot more to do with himself than with Barbara. He plopped onto a bench and scowled at the flowering vines across the hall. Chin wouldn't call him pretty if he looked more rugged. His fine, almost delicate bone structure was his second worst curse in life. The first was his face. His wide-spaced, large brown eyes, straight little nose, and girlie mouth always gave him trouble. Being called pretty had landed him in more fights than he cared to count.
Maybe Dad could find a way out of this blackmail, but no one in Geoff's family even knew he belonged to the gang. How could he explain this? Besides, there obviously wasn't any way out.
Trevor's cheerful voice interrupted Geoff's gloomy thoughts.
"You look as happy as a politician named ambassador to Ur-anus," Trevor said. He sipped from a can of cola that Geoff suspected held some form of alcohol in addition to the soda pop.
"Blast off." Geoff got up and headed toward the transit stop.
Trevor walked with him. He stood a head taller than Geoff and was nearly twice as broad. Except for his light gray eyes, the features of his round face clearly showed his Chinese ancestry. A bright blue ring in the center of his left eyebrow matched the blue hoops dangling below the straight black hair covering his ears. The three earrings in each ear were a set with the chunky chain around his neck and one of his four finger-rings. Trevor was dressed in khaki jeans and a shirt with blue top-stitching that matched his jewelry; Geoff wore blue jeans and a purple-and- orange soccer jersey.
"I obviously had a better time there than you did," the larger boy said. "What'd they want?"
"You know better than to ask," replied Geoff.
Trevor shrugged and looked away.
Geoff scowled up at him and then stopped and planted his fists on his hips.
"They told you to ask, didn't they?" demanded Geoff. "To see if I'd say anything."
Trevor met his eyes and said, "I told them you wouldn't."
"What would you have done if I did?" asked Geoff.
Trevor shrugged again and said, "I dunno. I figured you wouldn't."
"What'd they tell you?" Geoff asked as he continued walking.
"You're working on a project that'll take some time. I should run interference if you need."
"I have to cut our game time short tonight," Geoff said. "And tomorrow ... and the day after. The bastards aren't leaving me any free time. They're not happy unless everyone follows their orbit!"
"Black hole that kind of talk." Trevor's earrings chimed as he looked to see if someone was watching them.
"Why should it matter?" Geoff glanced down the hall lined with glowing and flashing hologram storefronts interspersed with a few potted shrubs. The twenty or so people around them were paying no attention to the two teens. "I'm not part of a Lung family. I'll never be more than a fringe runner."
They walked in silence for half a minute, and then Trevor said, "There." He pointed to a convenience store across the hall. "Let's get a snack."
"Okay." They were both hungry, and it wouldn't occur to Trevor to pay for snack food. At least Trevor chose places with weak security. How he knew he never said, and Geoff did not ask.
They walked in together. Trevor got the store attendant to open the display of sports-star collector holos. Each thumbnail-sized button held a holographic image of a sports figure frozen in action and would project ninety seconds of a great moment in that person's career.
Pretending boredom, Geoff circled until he could see the security monitors behind the counter. He checked what angle the cameras covering the snacks recorded from and strolled back to Trevor. After a moment, he wandered away.
Geoff went down one aisle and back up the next, tucking treats, including candies and chocolates only made on Terra, into his sleeves and pockets.
"Aren't you done yet?" Geoff asked when he returned to Trevor.
"Hold orbit," said Trevor. He moved his left forearm across the counter scanner so that it could read his implant, and then he leaned forward for the retina scan to authorize a bank transaction.
The clerk bagged Trevor's holo buttons and handed them to him.
"Have a good day, boys," he said.
"Thanks," Trevor replied. "Be seeing you." Outside the store, Trevor raised one hand to shoulder height, his palm outward, and grinned.
Not wanting his friend to know how much their visit to Chin and Lui had upset him, Geoff slapped Trevor's open hand and said, "Shadowhand and the evil genius, Trevor the Terrible, complete another successful mission to retrieve rations from the enemy stronghold."
Trevor laughed. As they headed toward the transit stop, he asked, "What'd you get me?"
Geoff handed him an apple.
"That's it?" Trevor exclaimed. "We hardly ever hit a store with Terran stuff, and I bought a pile of buttons!"
Geoff smiled and passed him two chocolate bars, a bag of candy, and a package of gum. He took a couple of pieces of the beef jerky, which had been made in the station's protein production lab, and gave Trevor the rest of the package.
"That all you want?" asked Trevor.
Geoff, his mouth full, nodded. Chin and Lui had ruined his appetite. Besides, stolen snacks didn't taste as good as they used to.
"Which ones are mine?" asked Geoff.
"Doesn't matter." Trevor tossed Geoff half a dozen of the colorful buttons. He lifted his ringed eyebrow and asked,
"What?"
"What ... what?"
"You've got that shove-the-station-out-of-orbit look," replied Trevor.
Geoff sighed and said, "I don't see what the big deal is if I don't always do things exactly like Lung wants. I don't have ancestors who worked with your ancestors. As long as I don't go against you all, it shouldn't matter what I do with my life."
"It's us," said Trevor. "You swore a blood oath to be one of us."
"I know." Geoff gave Trevor a troubled look. He had joined Trevor's gang, the Taurids, nearly three years ago, shortly before he had turned fourteen. "And I keep my word. I just don't want to be so ... constricted. Under orders all the time."
"Hey, we all go through that," Trevor said. "Like rebelling against our parents. Just quit being so loud about it. Here's our car."
Geoff followed Trevor into the transit car. From the outside, all that could be seen were the wide double doors. Inside were two rows of ten seats, each of which could comfortably hold two adults. Bright light bars on the ceiling created good visibility for the security cameras at the front and back of the car.
It held a dozen other passengers. The two boys sat close to the exit and played their new sports buttons as the car silently rolled between the station walls.
They lived in Station One, the first station built for civilian habitation. It orbited Earth slightly behind and above the main transfer station where Terran cargo was offloaded from atmosphere planes and transferred to space-traveling freighters.
At eighty years old, Station One was far older than the development of artificial gravity. It had been started in the late 2060s and had been constructed as a giant spinning doughnut. The rate of spin was set to give the outer layer (or bottom deck) one Terran gravity. All but one school were on that heavy deck, so children would get the required hours in gravity for physical density and strength. Most business offices and residential apartments were on decks with lighter gravity.
Geoff and Trevor rode to a transit center farther down the line. Transit centers served as connector hubs for cars traveling across the deck and the rows of elevator cars that moved between decks.
"Let's have a game or two," said Trevor. "I figured out a way to get by you in Scout Ship." He took a couple of steps toward a cross-deck car.
"I got to meet Barbie," Geoff said. "Besides, it won't work. I'm too fast." Shadowhand was on the top-ten list of many different games throughout the station.
"What're you doing with your sister?"
"Babysitting."
Trevor snorted and said, "She's too old to need a sitter."
"We're going to the low-g market by the docks," said Geoff. It was a family rule that no one under sixteen went up there without being accompanied by someone older. Barbara was only thirteen. Geoff had had the freedom to visit the dockside markets by himself for less than a year.
"She's got you wound around her little finger," said Trevor, extending his pinky finger and making a circling motion with it. "Whyn't you tell her no?"
"'Cause I like the market," answered Geoff, knowing it was only partly true. "You should come with us. We could check out what's new in the weapons booths." He was going to look for a certain young salesgirl, too.
"I can do that standing here," said Trevor.
Geoff sniffed derisively. A computer-generated holo image, especially the little ones from personal links, couldn't compare to actually being there. Because the Lung organization's influence in the dock markets was limited to the section rumored to cater to black-market dealings, Geoff's friends did not have a lot of enthusiasm for visiting the market. Conversely, Geoff got a secret pleasure from going where Lung's influence was minimal.
They caught an elevator car. Like the cross-deck transit cars, it held two rows of seats. All were occupied by at least one person. Geoff and Trevor stood by the doors and lightly held the rail as gravity diminished.
"Show messages," Geoff whispered to his wrist com. It was his link to the station's net until he turned twenty-one and could get an uplink implant. Everyone below the age of majority only had their personal information—identification, medical records, and bank access—implanted.
Geoff had no mail, so he opened his school folder. He had math to finish, and sure as Sol was hot, he'd have something due in station systems, the class he had skipped. He did. Somehow, he would have to find time to get it done. If his grades fell, his parents would send him back to after-school tutoring. That had been bad enough in grade eight. He wasn't going there in grade eleven.
"See you tonight," Trevor said as he got off on the 0.7-gravity deck. Geoff rode up to the 0.6-gravity deck, wishing the trip was longer so he would have more time to come up with an excuse to be out late every night while he suffered with Chin.
Chapter Two
Geoff's family lived on deck thirty-four, section M, in apartment 133 on the corridor named Squamish Road. Each wedge-shaped section had its point at the center of the station and its wide base along the outer rim. He ambled down the hall, taking long steps with plenty of hang time. The walls were covered with leafy vines, flowers, and shrubs stretching up to the recessed lights above them. Bushy pecan trees guarded both sides of the Anders's door.
Inside the apartment, black shadows stretched across a living room made rosy by pink grow-lights. White-light ceiling bars brightened when Geoff entered. The dark blue living room rug showed wear spots by the entry and on the opposite side by the kitchen's navy-blue tile. Apartments were built long and narrow, with the bathroom, bedrooms, and storage areas beyond the kitchen.
Out of habit, Geoff went to the garden. The apartment's outer wall, which was divided in two by the door, held a closet on the left and a rack of hydroponic garden shelves on the right. These lined the walls behind the couches, curving around the corner and filling the next wall. Although all apartments were built with garden equipment so residents could offset station air charges, not all stationers used them. Both Geoff's parents liked to garden, so there was always something fresh to eat.
Geoff stole a few peapods from Barbara's little section of garden. As he crunched the tiny legumes, he checked the nutrient and temperature regulators. Then he picked a sweet turnip. He just had time to drop the empty peapods and turnip peel down the kitchen recycle chute when Barbara and Nadine arrived.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from High Orbit Hero by J.M. Krause Copyright © 2012 by J.M. Krause. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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