Storm Divers (Book 1 of The Fractured Republic Saga) Read online

  Adam considered changing out of his work clothes, but decided against it. All he added was a leather jacket with patches representing his various dives.

  That’s what really drew the women, he knew. Him being a storm diver. It was the new extreme sports craze to grip the system. A decade ago, it had been cross-country on Mercury’s bright face. God only knew what it would be a decade from now.

  For now, it was hot, with the coverage being even more frenzied than usual this week. The Republican Sporting Association had sponsored the first annual storm diving competition this week. Would-be divers and corporate teams had flocked to Jove Station. It was a zoo.

  It amused Adam how these people thought they could do better than the local talent. He and his friends had been doing this for years. Even decades in some cases. They’d honed their equipment to the bleeding edge and lived for the adrenaline rush. They craved it.

  No way they’d let some off-station hotshots break any of their records.

  One bonus for the locals was that they’d already qualified. The RSA rules stated that to compete a diver had to hit the base of Jupiter’s troposphere and remain for at least ten minutes.

  They’d all managed that plenty of times. Their ships already carried the telemetry recorders the RSA mandated for officially recording the depth, speed, and duration of dives. They’d pioneered them.

  Those would be the records everyone would be striving to beat. The ones set by Adam and his friendly—or in some cases, not so friendly—competitors. The games would award medals for fastest entry, deepest dive, most intense weather event endured, and longest duration in the fluid area of Jupiter’s atmosphere.

  Adam held the speed record, and he intended to keep it.

  Divers could make as many as three dives over the next week. In some cases, the newcomers had different ships with profiles tailored to different goals. That was all fine with the RSA. The diver was competing, not the equipment. As long as a ship had telemetry, it was a valid dive.

  Even before the announcement of the games, he and the rest had built loyal followings in this extreme sport. The vids Jason put together netted both of them more than the construction work they officially did, and that paid very well indeed.

  A lot of people in the sport blew through money as if it were infinite. Sometimes, when they failed to put enough back into their ships, they died.

  Not that storm diving on Jupiter was safe. The king of the solar system was unforgiving of those who trifled with him.

  Even here in orbit, the gravity was heavy. The station was in freefall around the massive gas giant, but if it hadn’t been, almost three times Earth’s gravity would crush them all. That made boosting back out of the depths a herculean task.

  Jove Station fell around the giant world and escaped the press of gravity, except for the times when they had to use the fusion drives to boost their orbit. Those moments gave everyone a little taste of what he felt on dives.

  The radiation was hellish. An intense magnetic field and buffer compartments of water kept the station inhabitants safe.

  Those like him who worked on the exposed FTL ships in the shipyards only had magnetics to protect them. If they failed, death would quickly follow. Not that the workers would die immediately. They’d fade away, painfully, into oblivion. He thought of it as rotting from the inside out.

  It had happened once before. When the Disruptors had bombed the station’s magnetic shield controls. The water buffer protected the station until the techs got everything online again. The construction crew on duty that day wasn’t so lucky.

  Far too many of them died in terrible agony over the next week. Anti-radiation meds were good, but not when someone got multiple lethal doses. Shit like that made him wish he were still in the Army.

  Until he remembered what had happened on Mars.

  “You hear about the excitement at customs?”

  Adam zipped his jacket. “No. They catch someone smuggling in live iguanas in their pants again?”

  “Alas, no. Some guy set off the explosive detectors. No bomb, but they gave him the full tour, if you know what I mean.”

  “Did they at least buy the poor bastard dinner first?”

  “Nope. And, boy was he mad. Frothing, actually. Threatened everyone in sight for denying him his rights and tried to call a lawyer. Says he’ll sue.”

  Adam shook his head. “Good luck to him with that. Not after the last time the Disruptors got onto the station.”

  “I think they explained that in great detail as they probed him. I hear it took four of them to hold him down.”

  “So, how’d the idiot set off the detectors?”

  Jason shrugged. “They have no idea. The leading thought is some type of detector failure. They’re ripping into the systems now.”

  The two of them exited the shop they rented from the port and started walking down the street. The name of the club they frequented was almost a given, considering. The glowing red spot over the door was unnecessary, unless you were a newbie that had no idea where the Great Red Spot was.

  The artfully placed red lights inside kept up the atmosphere. Not that everything was red. It was mostly just dim.

  Writhing bodies packed the dance floor, weaving to the industrial beat playing at near ear-damaging volume from the speakers. The DJ stood over his console above them, dressed in what looked like tin foil and a miner’s lamp.

  Adam shook his head. He’d never understand some people.

  They made their way to the back and through an unmarked door. The music dropped to manageable levels. Soundproof it wasn’t, but it was good enough.

  This was more to his taste. Still as hectic as out front, but less frantic. Local storm divers and their friends made up the crowd. And groupies. You couldn’t escape them. Not everyone wanted to.

  “I’ll leave you to wander while I check out the buffet,” Jason said.

  “What about Cindy?”

  “Who do you think sent me for takeout?” his friend asked with another waggle of his eyebrows. “She keeps asking about you coming over, bro.”

  “And see you naked? No way?”

  His friend laughed and headed into the crowd. He’d probably charm some groupie into going home with him for a night of wild sex with his adventurous girlfriend.

  Adam knew for a fact that Cindy had no interest in him. She’d told him so when she’d started seeing Jason. She was monogamous when it came to men and only saw women when in the company of her steady. Not that Jason would complain about that.

  He decided he’d have a drink, make one pass through, and then head back to the shop. That would satisfy his friend and let Adam get back to work. Dive time would come early, and he had that thruster to finish.

  The various members of the other local dive teams nodded his way as he walked past. Some tried to draw him over, others shot him the finger. Okay, only Double Dick flipped him off. Richard Dickerson—Double Dick to friend and foe alike—was just that kind of guy.

  Adam and he didn’t get along that well. Of course, Double Dick didn’t like anyone any better. The man was an asshole.

  The bartender knew what a raised finger—index—meant for Adam. One ice-cold beer rapidly came sliding down the bar. Adam replaced the bottle with cash and turned to face the crowd.

  It was a busy night. And that was without all the out-of-towners flocking the station. He wondered what the party was really for. No one had died this week, so this wasn’t a wake. It wasn’t somber enough to be a wake, anyway.

  Everyone was probably just getting things out of their systems before the dive. They always said, live today as if you’d die tomorrow. For storm divers, that was truer than any of them would care to admit.

  Storm diving was the ultimate ride, but that had a ridiculous amount of danger attached to it. The thrill came from knowing the king would kill you if he could. And he could.

  No matter how careful they were, Jupiter claimed blood every year. The far side of the club had a wall wit
h pictures of the men and women who’d never come back. Lost forever in the depths when their ships failed. Or their nerve.

  Divers rarely talked about that. Other than the random drunken salute to the fallen.

  Adam happened to be facing the entrance to the room when the door opened. He didn’t recognize the woman, but she was a looker. Tall, muscular, and confident. She moved with the kind of grace he’d only seen in people that practiced one of the various martial arts. Kind of a coiled readiness.

  He could thank the Army for that kind of eye. In his day, he’d led many people who moved with just that assurance.

  She swept the crowd with her gaze. Their eyes only locked for an instant, but he knew she’d found what she was looking for.

  Him.

  This didn’t bode well. The only people that sought him out—other than his friends—were either groupies or people with scores to settle. He’d made a fair amount of enemies in his lifetime. He didn’t recognize the woman, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t out to do him mischief.

  He took a drink and headed directly toward her. If there was going to be trouble, he’d settle it right now. He’d never been the kind to tug at a stuck bandage. Rip it off, he’d always said. Besides, he might be dead tomorrow.

  She zeroed in on him as he dodged through the crowd, giving up the pretense of looking for someone else. Good. Lies only slowed things down.

  Adam stopped a few feet in front of her. “You’re looking for me. I don’t suppose I won the system lottery.”

  “What makes you think I have any interest in you?”

  Her voice was deeper than he’d expected. And guarded.

  He smiled. “I’ve got a superpower.”

  That got a grudging smile out of her. “I had everything all worked out in my head, but you have a better eye than I expected, Mister Hale. Or you got lucky.”

  “Trust me, things rarely go as you plan. You don’t look like a groupie, so what brings you calling?”

  “Zane.”

  Adam felt his expression close up. “I haven’t seen him in ten years and I don’t expect that to change. Go back to security and tell them that. He’s not here. They should know that already, but some of you people are slow.”

  “You’re wrong, Mister Hale. I know Zane came here. He told me he was going to before he left Earth. He went through customs on this station and vanished. I’m going to find him, and you’re going to help me.”

  That brought a slightly sneering smile to his face. He hated the expression, but sometimes couldn’t stop himself.

  “What are you to my brother? A girlfriend? Don’t try wife. He’s not the marrying type. Or maybe a coworker. Are you a spook?”

  “My name is Rachel Price. All you need to know is that I care about Zane. I don’t give a shit what problems you have with him. He came to see you and vanished. I want to know where he is.”

  Adam put his fists on his hips and leaned into her personal space. To her credit, she stood firm.

  “Then we can settle our business right now. I never saw him. He didn’t come sniffing around or I’d have busted his chops. The two of us aren’t close. You want to look for that worthless sack of crap, be my guest. Find him and get the hell off Jove Station.”

  He drained the beer and tossed the bottle into a bag by the door as he headed out.

  The encounter had his blood up. Rage boiled behind his eyes, and it was a damned good thing the woman had let him go. He was in no mood to let her screw with him. Now he’d have trouble getting to sleep, and that would make tomorrow a pain in the ass.

  Chapter Three

  Rachel returned to the hotel angry with herself. She’d blown the intro like an amateur. Hale had spotted her the moment she’d come through the door. Even before she’d seen him. That was unforgivable.

  Worse yet, he’d closed up like a turtle when she’d mentioned Zane. The antipathy there was real, though she had no idea why he hated his brother so deeply.

  Still, the two were family. One look made that clear to anyone with half a brain. They had the same features. Only where Zane was handsome in a sleek and sophisticated way, his brother was rugged and dangerous.

  Not that Zane wasn’t dangerous. Oh, she could attest to that. But Hale, he was a killer under the surface. His eyes told the tale. Cold and hard. Just the kind of eyes that could watch her friends be shot down in cold blood.

  She’d expected that. The man had been one of the Republican Army’s elite ground troops. A Mustang, an officer who’d come up through the ranks. She hadn’t been able to access the classified portions of his record, but she suspected he’d been one of their most deadly men in his day.

  That called to her in a way she hadn’t counted on. Oh, had it ever.

  Her body had reacted to his attempt to intimidate her by wanting to move in even closer. That kind of visceral reaction had no place on this mission. He was a contact she needed to persuade into helping her. Nothing more.

  Rachel rode the elevator down to her floor, seething in silence, the gravity slowly becoming stronger as she descended. The well-to-do stayed on the higher floors, closer to the station center. Someone on a government paycheck had to make do with higher gravity.

  As a Martian, she’d had to work hard to build and keep the muscle she had. At only 1/3 the gravity, Mars put many of the inhabitants at a disadvantage when compared to Earther muscles. It had taken her a year of intense workouts just to be ready for the trip to the mother world.

  As a rule, her people were taller than average, but more slender. Gaining the muscle mass her ancestors had once possessed was doable, but hard work.

  Getting rid of her accent was harder than gaining muscle, but the RIS had helped. Now she could fool most people into thinking she was from almost any part of the system. Her fallback accent was a kind of muddle that really didn’t sound as though it was from any specific place.

  The hotel was packed to capacity, but she’d managed to get a room on the underside of the station. It had a small window with a view of the massive gas giant spinning slowly below. It was grand, and she’d spent entirely too much time after checking in gazing down at the massive planet.

  The station’s magnetic shielding made the view possible, but if anything went wrong, a protective screen would close it off.

  Rachel locked her door and stood in front of the window again, watching the atmospheric bands on the giant planet. So beautiful.

  Hale was a bust for the moment, so she needed to focus on other angles. Like the hotel.

  She’d reserved a room here because that’s where Zane had intended to stay. They’d told security that he hadn’t checked in, but she wanted to verify that for herself.

  Her kit had everything she needed to worm her way into the comp system of a commercial hotel. Even an expensive one like this. Oh, it wouldn’t get her into the truly secure systems, but experience had taught her that most companies shied away from spending what it truly took to fortify their network.

  The room had standard wireless, but that was almost certainly on an isolated guest system. They were smart enough to separate the business and guest sides, she was sure.

  Her comp had a lot more range than average, though, when paired with her custom remotes. Such as the one she’d planted near the front desk. That would link to the guest services system. She’d eventually need to get into the business side, but this would be a good start.

  * * * * *

  Adam worked on the thruster for another hour before he gave up in disgust. The woman in the bar had him too pissed off to focus.

  He retreated to the room he kept in the rear of the shop. It wasn’t much, but it had everything he needed: a place to sleep, a place to heat food, and a shower. The shop satisfied his other needs.

  After a moment’s consideration, he pulled a second beer from his fridge. He’d take some sober pills in the morning.

  Why couldn’t his brother leave him in peace? Even when he wasn’t here, everyone seemed to think he was. That
had to be bullshit.

  The last time he’d seen Zane, they’d fought over the intel on the Mars operation. God, the RIS had royally screwed that up. Instead of a building full of terrorists, they’d found office workers.

  Admittedly, some of them had been armed, but that was no excuse for the intelligence minders the RIS had forced on them to open fire on everyone. By the time he’d stopped the slaughter, far too many bystanders were dead.

  To the general public, it hadn’t mattered that he didn’t order the slaughter. That the RIS agents had acted far outside any rules of engagement. The killing had taken place when he was in command and supposedly in control. The buck stopped with him.

  The RIS agents had confiscated all the helmet recordings as soon as the dust had settled. Then they’d covered their own ass, blaming him and his men for the atrocity.

  His superiors had fought for him, but they’d lost. Adam ended up resigning his commission in disgust.

  When he’d returned to Earth and confronted his brother with the RIS’s betrayal, their fight had been epic. They’d both said things they couldn’t forgive or forget. The two hadn’t spoken in the almost ten years since.

  But that didn’t mean the memories didn’t hurt to this day. They’d been brothers. Closer than most. He’d looked up to his older sibling. Idolized him growing up. Then Zane had helped betray him.

  Perhaps that was too harsh. His brother hadn’t been part of what happened on Mars. But he’d defended the RIS and blamed the slaughter on the Army. On Adam. All the innocent lives taken that he couldn’t atone for.

  And now that woman was here looking for Zane. Adam knew deep in his heart that his brother wouldn’t have come to see him. That part of their lives was over.

  If his brother really had come to Jove Station, it was for some other purpose. Some spy shit. None of Adam’s business.

  He finished his beer and tried to get some sleep, but the woman haunted his dreams, too. She was probably a spook like Zane. That made her the worst of the worst in his mind, but his subconscious seemed to have a different impression.