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    Cursed Planet: GALCOM Universe, #3
    Cursed Planet: GALCOM Universe, #3
    Cursed Planet: GALCOM Universe, #3
    Ebook141 pages

    Cursed Planet: GALCOM Universe, #3

    By Linda Maye Adams

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    About this ebook

    Who knew ghosts could exist in heavy gravity? Hope Delgado, the galaxy's only alien ghost expert, confronts her toughest challenge on S.C. Kangjun's latest mission.

    The local aliens, 49ers, blame the humans for a ghost. And they hide a deadly secret, one to kill for.

    Hope must make a desperate last stand against the aliens and the ghosts. If she fails, her friends die.

    A science fiction novel of deep space thrills and adventures.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBad Gnome Press
    Release dateNov 5, 2018
    ISBN9781386725275
    Cursed Planet: GALCOM Universe, #3
    Author

    Linda Maye Adams

    Linda Maye Adams is published in Kevin J. Anderson’s anthology Monsters, Movies, & Mayhem.  She is the author of the military-based GALCOM Universe series, including the novel Crying Planet, featured in the 2018 Military Science Fiction StoryBundle, and is working on a superhero novel. 

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      Book preview

      Cursed Planet - Linda Maye Adams

      Chapter 2

      Hope bounced out of the weapons training room, trying not to bang into the walls. She’d already accumulated another share of bruises from whacking her hands and shoulders as her body adjusted back to Kangjun’s artificial gravity.

      Outside the door, the wide corridor was almost too bright, making her blink. First bells had turned the corridor into fast-moving lanes of people on their way to their stations. The heat of all those bodies filled the air with the overwhelming stench of sweat.

      She eyed the crowd, trying to gauge when to slip into the flow without tumbling into other people.

      Hope! Marotta bellowed above the chatter of voices. Move it!

      Startled, Hope lurched into the crowd. She collided with a mountain-sized man, who glared at her.

      Sorry. Heavy gravity, she mumbled, her face reddening.

      Why couldn’t the skipper have called at a more convenient time? Like after she’d recovered and taken a shower?

      She staggered through the crowd, doing her best not to fall on her face. Ignored Marotta’s stern frown and burning gaze.

      Stop dawdling, Marotta snapped. Move like you have a purpose.

      The chief took off at a rapid pace, her long legs making Hope feel like a Chihuahua trying to keep up.

      The crowd bottle-necked into the K-Train, which circled the enormous length of the ship. Marotta disappeared in the sea of uniforms, so Hope stopped to look around.

      Hope!

      Marotta stepped out of the K-Train car long enough to grab Hope’s arm and drag her into the car. Hope pinwheeled, nearly smacking Marotta in the face.

      The car was already jammed full of people. Hope felt claustrophobic. If there was a crash, all these people would squash her flat.

      Marotta tapped the wall access for the computer. Executive suite.

      Above the door stretched an electronic map of all the stops. A red square appeared, marking the location of the suite. Not a normal stop.

      Doors closing, announced a mechanical female voice. Train is starting to move.

      It took three stops to get to the executive suite. Hope emerged into a cooler corridor, refreshingly empty of people and smelling faintly of the eucalyptus that infused the environmental systems.

      Entering the suite was like walking into a different world. Bland military corridors, and then a vibrant blue suite that rivaled a five-star hotel. Every time she entered, she had the jarring thought that there’d been a big mistake.

      She and Marotta walked down to the end of a hallway to doors that opened into a conference room. The outer room had a large conference area complete with a kitchenette and another door that led to Graul’s office. A suit of armor guarding a picture window stared at her through a slit.

      From this angle, Hope could see one of Kangjun’s lower engines against the glittering jewels of space. Amazing that she could see it from here. The eight engines were at the back end of the ship, forming the shape of a hand holding a spear.

      Colonel Eric Graul was seated at the coffee table under the picture windows. His CTU had changed color to match the blue sofa. One of his green notebooks—he still used paper—sat open on the table. Next to it was a mug of coffee.

      Graul was in his late thirties, with sandy hair and ghosts in his eyes. Not as tall as Brooks, but lithe and broad-shouldered. Shiny silver eagles were fastened to the points of his collar. He had the whole officer thing going on, keeping his face neutral and inscrutable. He was the first Army skipper in all of GALCOM, and a lot of people weren’t happy with that. Hope had heard nattering about it while Kangjun had been at the repair facility for two months to fix the damage to the hull. Graul called the natterers minions.

      Sir, Marotta said.

      Graul closed the notebook and set his fountain pen on top of it.

      His gaze flicked to Hope, lingering on the ugly-looking bruise on her arm. She had another one on the back of her leg and more under her tank top.

      That from the heavyweight training, Ms. Delgado? he asked.

      Now Hope wished she’d worn a shirt that wasn’t so revealing.

      I’m having trouble keeping my balance, sir, she said, feeling like it was a lame excuse.

      The smile he gave her was sympathetic. I’m sorry about that. We had the bad luck to be only ten days away from the planet. Not even enough time to get you qualified on heavyweight weapons.

      Hope knew what that meant. She’d be going down unarmed. The last time she’d been unarmed, aliens had attacked.

      Graul sipped his coffee, then set the mug down on the table a little too hard, startling both Hope and Marotta.

      He went on as if nothing had happened. I asked Admiral Terzian if we could delay thirty days, but he refused. So you’re stuck with the crash course.

      Is something wrong, sir? Marotta asked.

      Graul drank again before answering. His neutral expression was locked in place. No, why?

      Hope didn’t like the sound of this. Not one bit. From Marotta’s expression, she wasn’t happy either.

      Why did you ask to see me, sir? Hope turned to place her hand on the sofa cushion so her body would know where it was and then sat. Marotta folded in half and sat next to her.

      We’ve been trying to contact Planet 1849. Graul grimaced. Can’t pronounce the alien name for it… it’s a word that’s a taste.

      You mean, like, the name is ‘Sweet’? Hope asked.

      No. It’s actually a taste.

      It better not be a bad taste, Hope said. That wouldn’t be good to name a planet after something that tastes terrible.

      Just call it Planet 1849, Marotta said. She sounded annoyed. Of course, that was how she usually sounded around Hope.

      There’s a geomagnetic storm in the area, Graul said. Been causing a lot of interference.

      Is that dangerous? Hope asked.

      She leaned forward to peer out the window. Space outside looked okay, all sparkly and pretty as usual. Were evil alien clouds lurking out there, waiting to eat an unsuspecting space cruiser?

      Graul chuckled. It’s all right, Ms. Delgado. It means we’re getting an unusual amount of solar flares. Nothing we can’t handle. But we’ve had a lot of trouble with communications. What I got from Admiral Terzian was… incomplete.

      How incomplete? Mulish suspicions rose in Hope. The military knew everything about space travel, but when it came to ghosts… important things got left out. Things she needed to know.

      Graul and Marotta exchanged glances. Then Graul shifted uncomfortably.

      There’s a ghost, Graul said. The locals claim our people brought it with them.

      What does the military commander say? Hope asked.

      There’s no military command on the planet, Marotta said. It’s a team of scientists.

      The intercom chimed. The computer’s neutral voice announced, Incoming communication.

      Graul sipped coffee. His gray eyes gazed at Hope over the rim of the mug like he was trying to send her telepathic messages.

      She hated this. She was terrible at reading Graul.

      An image sprang up over the coffee table. Static fractured it like a broken mirror, giving her the image of another world in pieces.

      A woman peered back at them. Hope stared. Blinked. No, no, no. It couldn’t be!

      It was Graul’s wife, Mel Hagen.

      Mel was inside a GALCOM shuttle. An open door behind her showed the world behind, a land of reddish-purple sand sharply divided by blue sky. She was dressed in a CTU that had gone orange to match the shuttle seats. It was too large on her. Her long blonde hair was swept back in a simple ponytail.

      Mel’s mouth moved. Static crackled her words, breaking them into pieces.

      Say again, Graul said. "All we’re getting is a lot of

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