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    Feenix: Bug Hunters in Space, #3
    Feenix: Bug Hunters in Space, #3
    Feenix: Bug Hunters in Space, #3
    Ebook261 pages3 hours

    Feenix: Bug Hunters in Space, #3

    By Jo Carey

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    About this ebook

    Gwen's attraction to one of the candidates for Lab 42 could be lethal… for both of them.

    Selecting their new team members poses challenges Gwen and Butler never imagined.

    In the midst of conducting interviews, a crisis breaks out on Venecia, and Gwen is called in to investigate the giant katydids that are decimating the planet's vineyards. Adding to the excitement is an Aguapillar crisis caused by the release of contaminated water on Stora, a Russian terrorist, and Gwen's attraction to one of the candidates.

    Aquapillar is the second book in a series of buggy sci-fi adventures. If you like strong female characters and stories that are equal parts romance and adventure, you'll love Jo Carey's Bug Hunters in Space series. 237 pages.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJo Carey
    Release dateApr 21, 2018
    ISBN9781386577362
    Feenix: Bug Hunters in Space, #3
    Author

    Jo Carey

    Jo Carey grew up in the Midwest but her curiosity and gypsy-spirit has kept her on the move. She's lived in eight US states and spent three years living in Ireland. She has always loved creature movies, so creatures and bugs often show up in her books. Jo, a former information security compliance guru, writes fast-paced, character-driven stories in a variety of genres from medical thrillers to space operas and cozy mysteries. Her novels are filled with humor, romance, and sometimes creatures or aliens, or maybe even all of the above. She often builds her stories around a strong female lead character surrounded by plenty of hunky male heroes. Jo's been under fire on a golf course and climbed out the roof of an elevator in the Netherlands. Life hasn't been boring. Now residing in Texas, setting often plays a huge role in her stories. Jo was intrigued by the League of Planetary Systems, a world her husband, Frank, created for his science fiction books, and she now writes mysteries and other types of tales sets in that world. Jo was bitten by a cat, a fire ant, and a snake, before succumbing to the bite of the writing bug.

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      Book preview

      Feenix - Jo Carey

      Prologue

      Thousands of years before elves walked the surface of Crystal...

      Far from the worlds that would eventually become the League of Planetary Systems, lights flickered along a deep, underground corridor. Tendar stopped and ran his six-fingered hand along the air handler's grill. He sighed with some relief as he felt life-giving air flowing out into the corridor. At least that's working, he said calmly, his swishing tail belying his worry.

      He hurried to the control room where he found several team members bustling about, as all hell broke loose above him. Status report, Traylar, he ordered as he took in the status displays ringing the control room. He noted the solar storm warning system showing a level five, its highest level.

      We've lost contact with all surface assets as well as sub-levels one and two.

      What about personnel?

      She looked at him running her upper hands through her hair while wringing her lower ones. About twenty of us are left on this level and the one above.

      Dammit. One hundred of the finest ecoforming engineers in the Confederation, and only twenty left. Get the home office on the horn.

      Long-range transmitters are offline.

      What about the ship?

      One of the techs threw a switch, bringing the landing site up on one of the viewers. Instead of a long-range transport, there was a skeleton surrounded by a seething blanket of what Tendar knew were insects, each about five inches long with voracious appetites. They eat organosynthetic hull plating? Tendar asked as he stared in disbelief.

      Anything with carbon and oxygen. Plastics, hull plating, even people, the tech replied.

      Boss, it they get back to the home world... Traylar started to say.

      Tendar thought for a moment before walking over to the console and breaking a cover. Underneath was a large, purple, hemispherical button marked Emergency. Next to it was a smaller button marked Record which he pressed.

      This is Tendar, commander of ecoforming expedition six assigned to Terranor 4. We have encountered an insectoid lifeform that has overrun the camp and killed most of my crew. I recommend this planet be immediately quarantined. I also recommend no rescue attempt be made. The chance of these bugs making it back home is too great. My crew should all receive the highest of honors for the lives they give to ensure the safety of our race. Tendar out.

      He released the record button before hitting the purple emergency button, initiating the launch of an emergency beacon from an orbital satellite. That's it, Traylar. He looked around the room as he pressed the intercom button. This is Tendar, he said before launching into a recap of events. When he finished, he added, It has been my greatest honor to work with all of you. Our sacrifice will not be forgotten... he stopped when he heard an odd noise coming from the vent cover above his head. He looked up in time to see the cover dissolve as thousands of voracious insects ate through the cover and poured into the control room, consuming everything organic inside.

      CHAPTER ONE

      The problems began the moment they dropped out of other-space. The cargo ship, Screamin Banshee, shook as the main power conduits blew along the length of the hull.

      Shit! the navigator yelled as she tightened her straps while scanning her board.

      Thank you, Clara, for that wonderful observation, the captain commented as he followed suit. Now, would someone like to tell me what just happened?

      The ship shook harder as the first stabilizer field generator gave up its ghost.

      Cascade failure of primary real-space propulsion system is now in progress, the engineer said from his seat behind the captain's chair.

      Navigation! What's our position?

      One-half light-second from Earth and closing fast. Too fast.

      That's impossible! We were supposed to decant well outside Neptune's orbit.

      Aye, sir, but I think that's our destination looming ahead, the communications officer said while pointing out the forward window.

      The captain made a split-second command decision. He hit the intercom button. All hands abandon ship. All hands abandon ship. This is no drill. Engineering, get out now. I'm ejecting the drive.

      Engineering is clear, sir, the second engineering mate said over the intercom.

      The captain reached down and pulled a large red lever next to his seat. The ship lurched as the aft third of the ship separated and headed into deep space. It exploded a moment later.

      Comm, launch the buoys and apprise Earth Control of our situation. First Officer, eject the cargo pods.

      Aye, sir, the communications officer yelled as his hands raced across the communications console. The first officer followed suit a moment later.

      The captain felt the double-thump of the buoys ejecting followed by a larger thump signaling the ejection of the cargo pods.

      Status of evacuation, the captain yelled to the first officer.

      All lifeboats away. It's just us, sir.

      Course?

      We aren't going to make orbit, sir, the navigator said.

      Helm! Can we miss the planet and send her into deep space?

      Negative, sir. We can maneuver some, but we're going to hit. At least we can choose where.

      Comm, get me Earth control.

      They're on the line, sir.

      Earth Control, this is Capt. N'Sook. No time for formalities. I need someplace to set down, preferably with no people nearby.

      Copy that, Captain. Our computers have chosen a defunct weapons testing range in northeastern Utah. We are sending coordinates now. Is this doable?

      The captain looked over at the Navigator. She looked back and nodded. We concur, Earth Control. Setting coordinates and giving you control, he said as the planet filled the forward windows.

      Roger that, Captain. We have control. Now, get the hell out.

      Copy that, Banshee out. Everyone strapped in?

      One by one, the bridge crew responded affirmative.

      First Officer, anyone left on board?

      No, sir. The ship is empty except for us.

      Very well. Hang on, everyone, the captain yelled as he flipped a cover on his armrest open and pressed the large, red button underneath.

      The Bridge jerked violently as it, and the main computer core, ejected from the doomed ship, leaving what remained of the Screamin Banshee to its fiery fate on the planet below.

      CHAPTER TWO

      Angus lay back in his easy chair and dozed off as his family prepared for their guest's arrival. It was Playoff Sunday, a time for friends to get together and watch their team try for another playoff win.

      Angus glanced over at the monitor above his desk near the wall and watched the security feed for a moment as the remote camera panned left, then right as it kept watch on their home away from home, what some of the families call Prepperville, in the event the world goes to shit. He smiled knowing that no matter what happened, they would have a place to go to start a new life amongst the ashes of the old.

      We interrupt this broadcast for an urgent news bulletin. Angus' head snapped forward as he pulled the recliner upright. On the screen was a young, Alturan newscaster. She had pink bows tied behind her three eyestalks and in her two median tentacles was a sheaf of papers. Behind her was a graphic of a burning spacecraft on a collision course with Earth.

      Shit. Honey, get in here, Angus yelled to his wife, Trisha.

      Angus, what's wrong? she asked as she ran in, wiping her hands in a dishtowel.

      He pointed to the viewer.

      This is Madge Renfrew reporting from Studio 6 in New York. Earth control reports the Ithian freighter, Screamin Banshee, is on a collision course with Earth after a navigation system failure caused it to leave other-space too close to the planet. We now take you to Candice Glenn reporting live from Earth Control deep inside Cheyenne Mountain. Candice?

      The view shifted to a young human woman holding a microphone. Around her was the famed Earth Control Command Center where technicians monitored all space traffic arriving at or leaving Earth Space. Standing next to her was a rather imposing elf wearing an Earth Control uniform.

      Thanks, Madge. We are reporting live from the command center inside Cheyenne Mountain. With me is Commander Zebulon Criss, Earth Control's commanding officer. Commander Criss, can you tell us what's happening?

      Yes, Ms. Glenn, I can. The freighter, LTV Screamin Banshee, while on a routine voyage, suffered a catastrophic failure of the navigation system that caused the ship to drop out of other-space only one-half light second from Earth.

      And that is too close?

      Yes. The moon is only one quarter light-second from Earth while normal decants occur outside the orbit of Neptune, at least for commercial traffic.

      I see.

      The Banshee lost both FTL and normal-space engines while approaching the earth at a very high velocity. This velocity, coupled with their loss of maneuvering, made them the equivalent of a bomb. It was decided to not risk shooting them down, but to allow them to hit the planet in a controlled fashion.

      Hit the Earth. Wow. What about the crew?

      The crew and cargo safely ejected after handing the ship over to Earth Control. We have locked the ship into a course that will take it to a crash landing in Utah.

      A graphic showing the state of Utah appeared. On it was a flashing red dot.

      Where, exactly, is the ship going to hit?

      Here, the commander said as he pointed at the dot. Inside the Black Dragon Missile Testing Range, the last remaining desolate area in the United States.

      Desolate, as in uninhabited? Candice asked.

      There isn't a sapient life form or sapient-made structure within a hundred miles of the range.

      I see. Tell me, what kind of damage will the impact cause?

      We estimate a crater no more than a mile wide and five hundred feet deep. This is small compared to the damage done by some of the missiles which were tested there in the past.

      No, no, no, no! Angus said as the doorbell rang. Moments later, David Prentiss walked over to stand next to Angus.

      What's up, Boss? David asked. He worked with Angus and was a co-owner of Prepperville.

      Angus pointed to the screen. We've got a rogue spaceship about to hit next door to town, he said. That's that damn missile range about five miles west of Prepperville.

      What? he said as he too, stared at the screen.

      Lieutenant, the commander yelled to a subordinate. Status!

      Sir, ship has entered the atmosphere and is on course for the missile range.

      The commander turned to the camera. You see, Ms. Glenn, we have everything under control.

      I see. Why doesn't the ship just disintegrate, you know, like a meteor?

      Their designed not to so that the amount of damage they do is contained in a small area. A ship the size of the Banshee could rain debris over a large area.

      A graphic showing the Banshee compared to a human, a whale, and a sea freighter appeared.

      Sir, one minute to impact, the Lieutenant called out.

      Yep, everything is under control, the commander said as he watched the screens. Status of the two probebots?

      Approaching now, sir.

      We will now switch you to the video feed from one of the two probebots that are following the doomed freighter in close pursuit.

      The view shifted to the feed from one of the probebots. The audience could see the air burning around the doomed ship as it plunged deeper into the thickening atmosphere. The view went split-screen with a map appearing on the right of the video feed. On the map, a red line, growing in length from west to east, showed the path of the freighter. Just to the west of the end of the red line was a red dot representing the missile range.

      Fifteen seconds, a controller called out.

      Steady, people, steady. We don't want to under or overshoot, the commander said.

      Five seconds...

      A large plume of flame spewed from underneath the freighter.

      Burn-through, a controller announced. Unable to concentrate.

      The red dot shifted slightly east.

      Compensate! the commander yelled.

      Too late. Angus grabbed a remote and shifted the security feed to a west-facing camera just as a fireball landed in the middle of town. The feed disappeared in a blaze of white light.

      Prepperville was no more.

      CHAPTER THREE

      This is Candice Glenn reporting from Dinosaur National Park. This is as close as the media is allowed to the scene of last night's crash of the LTV Screamin Banshee. The ship's crew lost control, and US Space Command directed the ship to a desolate area about one hundred fifty miles northwest of Dragon, Utah, a ghost town near the Colorado state line. Since the crash was directed to a remote area, officials believe there is little chance that there were any casualties on the ground, but we won't have details until they release video from the drone flyovers of the crash site. We're told that will happen later today, Candice ended her segment of the news and coverage switched back to the studio anchor who said the station would continue to update the situation as details were released.

      Angus, is there any chance the compound can be salvaged? Trish asked.

      I hope so. I'm going to call a couple of the guys. We'll drive out and make sure everything is secure.

      Angus McCoy was the leader of a group of hardcore preppers who had banded together to buy some land in the remote area northwest of Dragon, Utah where they'd built a compound and stocked it with sufficient supplies to last three years. There were twenty-five families involved. All of them were convinced that natural disasters on Earth were becoming more devastating and more frequent. At the same time, threats of disaster from a declining global economy and tenuous political situations both on Earth and in the League of Planetary Systems ensured that a major calamity would soon put an end to life as they knew it on planet Earth. Angus and two of his prepper friends loaded into his jeep and headed for their underground compound.

      During the seven-hour drive, the men discussed what they'd heard about the crash and convinced each other that it was unlikely the compound had been affected. It had been build underground to specifications that ensured it could withstand most of the things the preppers thought might threaten the safety of the community. Unfortunately, that had never included a spaceship crashing into the compound carrying a significant amount of fuel.

      The men knew that getting to the compound might require them to avoid their usual route because of the military and media presence in the area of the crash site. All of these men had explored every means of egress and ingress to the compound, so when they found their way blocked on one road, they simply tried another option.

      Finally, Angus pulled the jeep to a stop on the lip of the canyon overlooking their compound. The men got out of the car and pulled binoculars from their gear. Walking to the edge of the ridge, Angus yelled in disgust, What the hell are the chances? How could this have happened?

      All our work is gone, one of the other men said, staring through his binoculars at the smoldering wreckage of a space ship that had plowed a path down the canyon and right into the center of the Prepperville. The roof was destroyed, and they could see inside to some of the rooms beneath. Debris was everywhere, and flames still glowed in pockets throughout their former safe haven.

      Should we try to get down there to see what we can salvage? the third man of the group asked Angus.

      They're not going to let us anywhere near that wreck for a long time, Angus said. Let's head back to one of the checkpoints and see if we can be put in touch with someone in charge. No sense trying to keep the location of the compound a secret now.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      What do you mean the compound is gone? Trish asked when Angus called to let her know they were on their way home.

      The spaceship plowed right into it. We may be able to salvage something eventually, but we aren't going to be allowed on site until the fires are all out and the wreckage has been removed. It will be weeks if not months before we can do a thorough assessment.

      What if there's a situation before that happens?

      We'll talk about it when I get home. The guys and I will spend the drive back putting a plan together. I'll call when we're close.

      When Trish met Angus McCoy at university more than twenty-five years ago, she'd never given a thought to the myriad disasters that might befall. She and Angus married right after college and got jobs in Denver. They bought a small house in a remote suburb just before Trace was born. They were living the American dream, but things changed when Trisha was pregnant with their daughter a few years later.

      Living in Denver meant dealing with snow and blizzards each winter, but Angus made sure that one of their cars was always four-wheel-drive, so they could get around if they needed to. They were always cautious people. Angus and Trish paid attention to the weather reports and stocked up on food and necessities anytime a bad storm was predicted. Trish had always felt they were well prepared to weather any storm.

      Trisha's pregnancy had been progressing normally, and they were looking forward to adding

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