Space Cowboys & Indians
by
Lisa Medley
How can the chance of a
lifetime go so horribly wrong?
Mining Engineer Cole
Hudson signed up for NASA astronaut training, but after washing out short of
getting his gold wings, he retreats to Alaska where he stakes out a
gold claim. When billionaire entrepreneur Duncan Janson offers him an opportunity
to join a mining team on an asteroid, Cole jumps at the chance.
But nothing is as it
seems. Former NASA reject and rival classmate, Tessa Hernandez, is also a
member of the team, and from the beginning of the mission test flight, things
go wrong. They soon discover they’re not the only ones on the asteroid. As they
try to escape, they are pulled through a wormhole and back to the early 1800s
New Mexico desert where aliens and Apaches may be the least of their problems.
BUY SPACE COWBOYS
& INDIANS
Chapter One
Alaskan gold mine, the Hudson Claim - the near
future.
“Goddamn it, Hudson. The washplant is down
again.”
Cole ground his molars
together before he could unleash the torrent of swears coursing through his
brain in reply. Of course the washplant was down. Again.
This claim would be the
end of him.
“Show me,” Cole said.
His foreman, Todd
Cargill, held up four shredded washplant screens with holes the size of bowling
balls, useless now for the first step in screening for gold.
Cole squeezed his eyes
shut and wondered for the eleven-millionth time this summer why the hell he’d
come to Alaska.
Redemption, he reminded himself.
Wasn’t worth it.
“That was my last
replacement screen. Be a week before the supply plane can bring us more,” Todd
said. “No use running dirt until it’s fixed. This way, we’re only making mud.”
Most expensive mud he’d
ever not made. A week in the bush with no work? He’d have to pay the crew,
regardless, or he’d lose the whole lot of them. Hell, he still owed them from
last month. They were running out of summer to mine, and they’d barely
collected any gold so far.
“Shut it down. I’ll call
in the order.”
“What do you want me to
tell the guys?” Todd asked.
“Tell them—”
The chop, chop,
chop of helicopter blades slowly pounded across the sky until the
beast came into sight on the horizon. What the hell was a chopper doing out
this far?
The copter landed on the
flat several hundred feet from their dredge, stirring the dust up from the
broken ground and tailings. Covering his face with his arm, Cole coughed into
his elbow and waited for the cloud to settle. The copter blades whirled to a
stop, and his small crew left their work detail to gather around him and see
what was going on.
A white-haired man,
maybe fifty, maybe older, emerged from the helicopter cabin, quickly followed
by two men wearing sleek black suits, wrinkled from the tactical firearm harnesses
strapped snugly across their chests. They were loaded for bear.
That wasn’t what
concerned Cole. He knew he was in for trouble the second the guy’s thousand
dollar cowboy boots hit the turf. The man swatted at the swirling dust on his
white shirt and designer jeans then brushed his hands through his
shoulder-length hair three or four times, shaking it out like the mane of a
horse. He cranked up a smile as he made a beeline for Cole.
“Mr. Hudson?” the man
asked.
“I’m Hudson.”
“You look exactly like
your NASA application photo, Mr. Hudson. Haven’t changed a bit in the past five
months. It was five months you were detained. Yes?”
Todd coughed loudly
beside him. “Okay, I think we have things to do. Let’s go, boys.” Todd urged
the crew back toward their office trailer.
Cole was going to have
to give his foreman a raise. Right after he beat the dandy in front of him into
a bloody pulp.
“Who exactly are you,
and what the hell are you doing here? Surely you didn’t fly that deathtrap all
the way out here just to insult me in front of my crew. Or did you? You with
Montoya?”
The man appeared
bewildered for a moment. “Oh my. Let me start over. I…this wasn’t the
impression I intended to make. I’m afraid I started off badly. I’m simply so
excited to find you. Out here.” He motioned toward the distant tundra. “It’s a
very, very long way out here.” He flashed another smile at Cole and offered his
hand. “Duncan Janson. You might know me from the airline ads?”
Cole stared at the man’s
smooth, tanned hand. The guy had never worked a day of hard labor in his life
if those hands told the right story—that much was obvious. He knew exactly who
he was, now. Billionaire airline owner and profiteer. What he didn’t know was
what he was doing on his little piece of Alaska.
“You answered the first
question. Now answer the second,” Cole said, purposely not taking the offered
hand.
Janson pulled his hand
back then clapped them together, clearly proud of himself. “I’m here to offer
you a job.”
“I have a job.”
“This would be quite a
different job. Well, maybe not all that different. You’d still be mining, but
you would also have a chance to partake in some of your other passions.”
Clouds slid past the
sun, and a gust of wind stirred up a dirt devil near the copter, cooling the
air noticeably.
“What is it you think
you know about my passions, exactly?” Cole asked.
Janson twisted his
expensive Rolex around his wrist nervously. “Was it not your passion for space
that led to your gambling problem? Trying to raise enough money to continue in
the program? Which led to your legal issues, which led to your detainment and
now self-exile here in this godforsaken place? Isn’t your work here an effort
to earn enough money to finance your first two passions? It’s a bit of a vicious
circle, it seems.”
Cole could feel his
blood pressure rising. This asshole was on his last nerve five minutes after
meeting him and about one more sentence away from a shallow Alaskan grave.
“What if all of your
skills could be utilized to fulfill each of those…passions? You’d be paid
well. Very well.”
“Is this prospect
legal?”
“Yes, but it’s not
without risks. I want to hire you to do some mining for me.”
“Where? You have a claim
in Alaska?”
“I’m afraid my claim is
quite a bit farther away from here. Your gambling problem and detention might
have gotten you booted out of NASA’s space program, but your personal problems
are not a deterrent to me. Your other skills and expertise are exactly what are
needed for my project.”
Skepticism scratched at
the back of his mind, but Cole couldn’t deny he was intrigued. He hated
Janson’s manner, but he could take his money. No problem. Hell, this job might
be the financial boost he needed to finally make this claim profitable.
“How long is the job,
and where is it?” Cole asked.
Janson smiled again,
clearly certain he’d already sealed the deal. “I expect the job to take around
six months. All expenses paid, of course. With an option to renew for a second
mission after that, if you are so inclined. Your season here is winding down?
Am I correct?”
Considering the ruined
washplant screens? Yeah, winding down would be a kindness.
“You didn’t tell me
where the job is,” Cole pressed.
“Ah, that’s the best
part, Mr. Hudson. The job is on Amun. It’s an asteroid. I want you to mine it
for me.”
Lisa has always enjoyed reading about monsters in love and
now she writes about them, because monsters need love too.
She adores beasties of all sorts, fictional as well as real, and has a farm full of them in her Southwest Missouri home, including: one child, one husband, two dogs, two cats, a dozen hens, thousands of Italian bees, and a guinea pig.
She adores beasties of all sorts, fictional as well as real, and has a farm full of them in her Southwest Missouri home, including: one child, one husband, two dogs, two cats, a dozen hens, thousands of Italian bees, and a guinea pig.
She may or may not keep a complete zombie apocalypse bug-out
bag in her trunk at all times, including a machete. Just. In. Case.
Twitter https://twitter.com/lisamedley
Website http://lisa-medley.com
Google + https://plus.google.com/u/0/
Thanks so much for hosting me. Shine on!
ReplyDeleteyou are welcomed any time. :)
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