The Exodus Towers: The Dire Earth Cycle: Two by Jason M. Hough

Author:Jason M. Hough [Hough, Jason M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 2013-08-26T22:00:00+00:00

Darwin, Australia

30.AUG.2283

GRIT AND SAND filled the air of Nightcliff’s landing yard, churned by the thundering engines of the Advantage.

Even from within the windowless cabin, Samantha could hear the fine powder blast the aircraft’s fuselage. Some portion would get sucked back into the turbofans themselves, which meant hours of cleaning and tests later.

The Advantage had been originally specced for short-range delivery work. Packages and parcels mostly. As such the interior had no conveniences for passengers. Just a pair of hot seats that butted against the cockpit wall. The rest of the cargo compartment was all bare steel walls, ugly rivets, and rows of ring hooks on the floor and ceiling to attach plastic nets.

The netting draped over four large stacks of pillow-shaped bags, each filled with topsoil from a field in nearby Queensland. On the trip out, the same space was occupied by fresh environment suit packs. More aura-scrubbed air and water for the workers who filled the dirt bags.

She’d made the trip dozens of times in the last few months. All the scavengers had. The crews ran like clockwork and worked like slaves, all under her stern direction. And she under Grillo’s.

The craft lurched and Samantha heard a dull thud. “Secure on pad three.” The pilot’s voice came through her borrowed flight helmet. She didn’t bother to acknowledge. Instead she stood and tossed the helmet into the foldout seat she’d occupied. Tired legs carried her past the cargo to the rear-loading ramp. At the flip of a switch, the aircraft’s rear hatch opened like a whale’s mouth.

Bright sunlight began to fill the cabin, in a sharp line that climbed her boots, then her legs, then her torso. Sam raised her arm instinctively as the glaring rays reached her face.

Once her eyes adjusted, she realized a welcoming party waited outside. The sight gave her a brief flashback to the inspection Russell Blackfield had made of the Melville, so many months ago. Only it was Grillo who now waited at the bottom of the ramp, and his posse of bodyguards were plain-clothed.

She’d seen little of Nightcliff’s leader since the alien cube had been recovered from Old Downtown. He’d left her at the airport gate that night, almost as an afterthought, before he and his Jacobite friends had caravanned off with their strange prize.

What had become of the object, Sam had no idea. Grillo had not mentioned it once, and she’d been reluctant to ask. Whatever the hell it is, I don’t want anything to do with it. Nightmares of that mission still woke her some nights, and Sam wanted nothing more than to forget she’d ever seen the thing.

Since that day, all of her scavenging requests came via messages delivered by courier. His promise to allow her a visit with Kelly had not been mentioned, and with each day her desire to keep working for the man dwindled.

“Dirt,” Sam said by way of greeting. “Six tons. As requested.”

“Nutrient-rich topsoil,” Grillo said to correct her. “Excellent work, Miss Rinn. As always.”

Sam shrugged, leaned against the aircraft’s wall, and studied the men with him.

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