A retired sheriff runs afoul of an outlaw he once
put behind bars.
Even though voted out of office, Sheriff Wake Liskie considered himself retired, and as such, embarked on a new endeavor. With some experience in aeronautics, he signed up as cargo handler on a space transport flight to Mars.
Three months into the flight, there was an explosion and fire aboard the craft. Sirens blared, Klaxons sounded, while red lights flashed throughout the vessel. Before the fire was extinguished, Wake, in a fit of panic, abandoned ship in an escape pod and as he drifted in space expecting to see the mother vessel erupt, he watched in dismay as the ship continued on its way into the darkness of space without the slightest explosion.
“What happened,” he wondered, “Why didn’t anyone else eject and why didn’t the ship blow up?”
Drifting alone in the capsule, he became cognizant of the seriousness of his life-threatening situation. “OK, don’t panic again,” he told himself, “let’s see what supplies I’ve got onboard.”
After a check of the supply inventory, He determined that there was enough food, water, and oxygen to sustain three men for six months. That’s when the paralyzing fear struck, “With all these supplies, what’s the anticipated time of recovery?”
Aboard the cargo transport ship, it took two and a half hours for the damage control crew to completely extinguish the fire and repair the damage. Once everything was back to normal, the captain held muster to determine if there were any further casualties. The damage control officer reported, “The actual damage was minimal and the maintenance crew have everything functional, however Sir, that new cargo handler, Wake Liskie, is missing along with one emergency escape pod.”
“That’s just great!” the captain declared, then to the radio
operator, he said, “
“OK, notify the head office and report him and the pod as missing.”
The spacecraft and its crew continued on with their mission.
Aboard the capsule a week later, Wake was sitting in front of the control consol and noticed, for the first time, an amber light flashing. On closer examination he found that the light belonged to the emergency beacon. “Son of a bitch,” he shouted, “the damn thing quit.” He looked closer and to his horror, determined that it had malfunctioned and no signal had ever gone out. He desperately searched through the ships maintenance repair manuals. He found the problem and reset the circuit breaker. The blinking amber light changed to a steady green glow.
Plagued by solitude, he had begun talking to himself and said, “It’s a good thing there’s plenty of food on board. I’ve got to sit back and try to relax – it’s just a matter of time before a rescue ship shows up. In the meantime I’ll pass the time by playing some games on the computer.”
Several months passed and Wake was nearly out of his mind with cabin fever when he heard, “Escape pod, XV77, do you copy?”
He nearly tripped on the way to the console mike, “This is XV77; yes I copy. Thank God you’re here.”
Again the voice on the radio, “Wake, Wake Liskie is that you?”
“Yes, this is Wake Liskie. Who are you and how did you find me?”
“I’m a deputy copilot in the federation’s space rescue service. When we received notification of your AWOL status, I volunteered to join the rescue party.”
“What do you mean AWOL? I abandoned ship because it was going to explode.”
“Had you received orders to abandon ship?”
“No – but I thought….”
“That’s why you were reported AWOL, and from where I sit, mister, you’re in deep shit.”
“What exactly are the charges?”
“There is dereliction of duty, misuse of company property, reckless endangerment of crew members by unauthorized abandoning ship.”
“How did my abandoning ship endanger other crew members?”
“All company space vessels are equipped with emergency escape pods. Each pod is designed to carry three men. By your taking one by yourself, if there should be a true emergency, two crew members will have to be left behind.”
“What happens now?”
“I’ll load your pod aboard and take you home to face charges.”
“What am I looking at back home?”
“Can’t say for sure, but most likely, your looking at forfeiture of pay and allowances, reimburse the company for food and supplies, pay the federation the cost of the rescue, plus heavy fines and penalties along with a possible eight to ten year stretch in a federal pen on the endangerment charge.”
As he climbed out of the escape pod, an armed guard escorted him to a holding cell, Wake said, “I thought this was a rescue vessel.”
“Actually,” the guard replied, “it’s a prison ship and you’re under arrest.”
“I want to talk to the man I spoke with on the radio.”
The guard, with a broad knowing smile said, “He’ll be along shortly.”
Wake was sitting on the edge of the bunk bed and looked up as Deputy Howard entered the cell. Wake exclaimed, “I know you!”
“You should, I was one of your deputies in
“Mark Howard – is that you?”
“That’s me – and it appears you haven’t changed much since those days.”
“What do you mean, I haven’t changed? It’s been fifteen years since….”
“Since I testified against you and your involvement in the Minion’s gold and silver fiasco and you assigned me to the dog pound.”
“I remember. Is this treatment part of your revenge?”
“Not at all, I’m just doing my duty as prescribed by law – as always.”
“And I see you’re the same hard ass you were then.”
“You bet.”
“Then I don’t suppose we can – make a deal.”
“What’ve you got in mind?”
“How much would it cost for you to tell them, you couldn’t find me?”
“How much you got?”
“Not a lot, but enough to make it worth your while.”
“Keep talking.”
“Maybe enough to double what they are paying you to find me.”
“What makes you think I’d risk my job and pension for that measly sum?”
“Well, how much then?”
“On top of the lawyers, court costs, fines, and penalties, there’s a three man crew aboard you’ll have to silence. I’d say about a hundred grand apiece should cover it.”
“That’s pretty steep.”
“That may be, but that’s what it will cost you back home plus the imprisonment.”
“OK, but before I transfer any of my universal credits, where will you take me?”
“I think I can find a quiet little colony on a distant planet.”
“Where do you want the credits sent?”
Upon Mark Howard’s return to Earth, he reported to his
supervisor, “On
Author’s note of self preservation:
All characters in this story are fictional. Any similarity to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.