Star Road by Matthew Costello, Rick Hautala Page A

passengers’ cabin.
     
    “That was muy intensivo ,” the Chippie said as he walked past her to get to the airlock. “I got most of it chipped ... right up until when that guy jumped. Then he was too close to the ship. Would have been so freakin’ real!”
     
    “Good for you,” Jordan said.
     
    When he got to the door, he checked the readouts, made sure the pressure inside and outside the airlock had equalized. Then he punched the button.
     
    As the door slid open, he stepped back to take a quick measure of the man standing there.
     
    Slightly built but strong looking. Wiry ... dark, intense blue-green eyes.
     
    Eyes that said he’d seen and done things.
     
    Calm ... self-assured, especially considering the nightmare he’d just escaped.
     
    He was sure the man was quickly assessing him as well.
     
    “Welcome aboard,” Jordan said as he stepped past him and into the airlock to retrieve the man’s pistol—an Armstrong 49.
     
    Nice piece of weaponry. Lot of kick. And not cheap.
     
    “You the gunner?”
     
    Jordan nodded.
     
    “That was some fine work you did just now.”
     
    Jordan nodded again. Then: “Your name again?”
     
    “Ahh, Gage ... Gage Mitchell.”
     
    Why the hesitation? Jordan wondered.
     
    “And you are ... ?”
     
    “Jordan.”
     
    When they shook hands, Jordan became aware that this new passenger, Gage Mitchell, was still taking his measure.
     
    Guy thinks he’s tough ... and maybe he is.
     
    And: What’s he doing out here, roading solo?
     
    “Thanks again for stopping,” Gage said. “That was a little closer than I cared for.”
     
    “Good thing you jumped when you did. You hurt?”
     
    Gage smiled. “A few aches. Bruises. Nothing to worry about.”
     
    “Good. Captain’ll be down in a bit to talk to you. In the meantime”—he nodded toward the lavatory at the back of the vehicle—”you might want to get out of that suit and clean yourself up before you settle in. Close quarters here.”
     
    “Sounds good, thanks,” he said.
     
    Jordan watched Gage as he started down the aisle, ignoring the other passengers until...
     
    The Chippie reached up and grabbed Gage’s arm at the elbow.
     
    “There’s an empty seat across from me. I’d like to ... get to know you better.”
     
    But the new arrival shook her off, ignoring her—and all the others staring at him—as he entered the lavatory and closed the door.
     
    ~ * ~
     
    Back in the cockpit, Jordan sat down in his seat and strapped himself in.
     
    “So ... what’ve we got?” Annie asked.
     
    Her fingers played across the controls, making adjustments as the SRV resumed its normal speed.
     
    “Beats me,” Jordan replied.
     
    “Anyone get roadsick back there when we decelerated?”
     
    “Not that I could smell.”
     
    Annie nodded. “Good. I’ll go back and have a little chat with him in a bit.”
     
    ~ * ~
     
    “Excuse me.”
     
    Ruth leaned over and touched the arm of the man they just rescued, sitting across from her.
     
    “This might sound, I don’t know, strange. But don’t you think it’s wrong to kill those Road Bugs?”
     
    The man glanced at her and shrugged. She could see that he saw her for what—not who—she was, a Seeker, and dismissed her.
     
    “I mean, the Builders made them to protect the Road—”
     
    Ruth was aware the Chippie was watching them both, always recording ... even this simple question.
     
    “Builders, hmm?” Gage said. “Never met one. And those things? No different from shooting a sonic cleaner or a blender.”
     
    Exactly the answer she expected.
     
    So ignorant, she thought.
     
    Still, the man, his voice, the way his eyes caught the light—he had charisma, no doubt about that.
     
    Which is probably why the Chippie kept turning around and looking at him.
     
    “That’s funny,” the Chippie said. “Blender ...”
     
    “Still,” Ruth said, “if the Builders made them, we should treat them with the utmost respect. This is