Runners: Escape Prison World or Die (Empire of Time Series) by John Argo

Page 28.

A canned female voice spoke through the din of rattling screws, vibrating panels, and trembling glassix. "Three hundred heads altitude, vector num-num-num…"(incoherent machine babble)…"attitude pitch 33 leveling, roll ten degrees, yaw compass bearing north north north-east-east-north-east-east…" The mechanical seducer added: "We have to stabilize your pitch, Pilot."

The craft righted itself. Its hover became smoother. "Thank you," Piri said. "What is your name?"

"Whatever you wish it to be. No obscenities or vulgarities, please."

"Madatilda," Piri said.

"The distinction is probably lost on the poor thing," Kion said. Mada was an ancient word for blood or death. Mada-anything could be a woman's decent name on Panir V, but vulgarity for a woman's vulva on Redvolitor 30K. On other worlds, it would be taken to mean Bloody Dead Tilda. The femnav would not know such things—or ignored its two passengers.

"She's gonna save our life. Hey, Madatilda?"

"Yes, Pilot?"

"Call me Piri. That's Jac Piri, ballet star and singer extraordinaire to frenzied females all around the galaxy. You got that?"

"Yes, Piri. Thank you for introducing yourself."

"Quit the road chatter," Kion said. "Get us out of here before the other merks show up."

"Take us south to the ocean," Piri commanded.

"Yes, Piri. That will be…" It reflected a moment, and then the soothing, almost sexy feminine voicebot continued: "…flight time estimated at four uras. Buckle in, passengers. We are in for a smooth, boring ride. Would you like to hear some nice music?"

"Yes," Piri said.

"No," Kion said. "Let's focus on the commo chatter. Madatilda, this co-Pilot Kion, the captain and commander of this butter tub."

"Hello, Kion. Thank you for introducing yourself. What is a butter tub?"

"A butter tub is something good to eat."

"That's nice, Kion."

Kion said: "Patch into all military and police bands. Separate and sound out any conversation threads with our names or 'rats' or 'fugitives' or 'escape,' especially relative to Aerag-15."

"Yes, Kion."

The air waves were flat and quiet. Nothing stirred—just some occasional crackles of static, and routine tower conversation around Aerag-15. It was kind of eerie.

"I think we're in luck," Kion said dubiously. "I hope they're not onto us yet."

Piri did not respond, but sulked at the controls, with nothing to do as Madatilda steered them at altitude 900 heads, bearing due south, toward the Great Blue Sea of Manaul 5.

"They will be," Kion said, completing his own thought. The more distance they put between themselves and Aerag-15, the better. And the quicker, the better as well.

Kion eyed Piri. There would come a reckoning soon. He began to dislike his traveling companion more and more. It was just a matter of knowing when and where to best shake loose from this recalcitrant liability of a lead-footed hop-along.

Piri exclaimed as he viewed the instruments. "We got company." When he was scared, his sullen insolence vanished and a chastened mess cook reemerged. "Boss, help!"

Kion didn't need to be told. He could see them on the horizon behind: four dark disks trailing a solid white vapor cloud, and traveling fast. They were gaining on Kion and Piri. They would catch up within ten minutes. The shooting would begin any second now.

The merk skimmers gained on Piri and Kion as they raced toward the equatorial ocean of Manaul 5.

Kion saw flashes bouncing back and forth among four pursuing merk skimmers. The merks began shooting long-range beam cannons. Up close, in a few minutes, they'd have a lot more stuff to unleash.

"They're not wasting any time," Kion said tensely.

The skimmer rocked sharply. Kion's teeth rattled as he clung to an overhead bar.

"Something just missed us," Piri said as he frowned over the instruments.

Kion stared through a stern porthole. "We shamed them when we took this craft. They're in trouble with Sekurita. It's no longer every skimmer for himself, sneaking around, trying to hog a kill for one pilot and one crew. They all want a quick prize now to show their masters."

"Wonderful," Piri said. "I look forward to a painless death."

Kion rubbed it in. "With luck, our heads will be trophies on the clubhouse wall tonight. We can watch them drink ale and sing songs every night."

Piri glowered at him. "Pardon me if I skip the rejoicing."

"I'll rejoice for both of us."

As the minutes went by, Kion noticed something odd. "They're falling back."

"Maybe they think we have a plague."

"That might help us right about now."

Piri focused on his instruments. "We're making max velocity. They are indeed falling back. I wonder why. Seems kind of ominous. But we'll die free men."

"We'll live free," Kion said. "The rest is epitaph."

"You and your Mansh officer academy."

"If we didn't have slogans, what would we have?"

Thank you for reading. If you love it, tell your friends. Please post a favorable review at Amazon, Good Reads, and other online resources. If you want to thank the author, you may also buy a copy for the low price of a cup of coffee. It's called Read-a-Latte: similar (or lower) price as a latte at your favorite coffeeshop, but the book lasts forever while the beverage is quickly gone. Thank you (JTC).

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