Excerpt: The Pursuit of Happiness (working title)

“How much further?”

“Be quiet, Vense! Do you want to get us all killed?” Gaius put his hand on Vense’s chest and pushed him back against the wall, out of the view of the patrolling night watch. The unwavering sound of their footsteps down the corridor slowly receded away. Only then did Gaius let out his breath. He let up his hold on his associate. “Grab your tools.”

Vense was already clutching his satchel of lock picking tools to his chest. “We should have made it out of here by now.”

“And if you keep complaining, we never will.” After quickly checking that the coast was clear, Gaius darted across the corridor into an intersection. The lights were dimmed in simulation of night for the multitude of sleeping tourists. While that aided their escape, it meant they had to tread carefully, so as to not trip over a food tray or empty bottle of wine pushed back into the hall for the cleaning staff. Gaius hurried stealthily along.

A loud crackling hiss drew him up short.

“Shut that thing off!”

Vense tucked his tools under his arm and hurriedly attempted to pull his communications link out of his breast pocket. “Kerra’s got to be wondering where we are.”

“Kerra knows we are not there. She is not so stupid as to try to contact us in the middle of pulling a job.” Seeing Vense had now turned down the static and they had not been overheard, he continued along the corridor. “These doors should lead to the arboretum. We’ll be able to get out there without sounding any alarms.”

“I do know the plan.”

“Then act like it!” Gaius snapped.

Vense tucked his communications link away again. “We got what we came for,” he whispered, gesturing to the case Gaius was carrying. “Doesn’t anything make you happy?”

At the doors to the arboretum, Gaius said, “There’s an old Earth saying, you might know it: ‘Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched.’” He swiped his security card and moved into the next room once the doors opened.

Vense followed hot on his heels, brow furrowed. “Why not?”

The arboretum was filled with sunlight flooding in from huge, open-air overheard skylights. After being dazzled by the onslaught of light for several seconds, Gaius blinked his vision clear and glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

“Why shouldn’t you count your chickens before they’ve hatched?”

“You’re not serious.”

“Didn’t have chickens where I grew up. What would I know about it?”

Escape momentarily sidelined, Gaius stared at Vense, his brow slowly knitting. It was not an idiom he had ever really bothered to dissect. “Well, eggs are fragile things, aren’t they? Something could happen to them before they hatch. If you drop one, it could break.” Hearing another, softer burst of static from Vense’s breast pocket, Gaius remembered their plight. Spying the lift right where the schematics said it would be, he hurried over. “Get these open.”

Within a matter of seconds, Vense had unlocked the lift doors.

Prying open the control panel inside gave Gaius immediate access to the computer system that operated the lift. In under a minute, he had programmed it to allow them rooftop access. “Get in.”

They were two levels up when Vense broke the silence. “Why not plates?”

“Plates?”

“Plates will break if you drop them too. Ceramic ones, at least.”

“Who do you know uses ceramic plates?”

“Who do you know eats chicken eggs?”

“That is not the point!” The doors opened on the rooftop and Gaius ushered them out, raising his free hand to shield his eyes from the sun. It was uncomfortably hot and he was already winded from their theft of the resorts deposit box and resultant escape. That Vense was not only irritated him more. “No one counts plates.”

“People count eggs?”

Gaius scanned the rooftop for the fire escape ladder. It had to be there somewhere. “People who raise chickens do!”

“And I don’t raise chickens! It’s a bad analogy.”

Gaius rounded on him, impatient. “I merely meant that I will not consider this job a success until we are safely back on Karma with a million million miles between us and this moon.”

“Then why didn’t you just say that?”

“Shut up.” Gaius turned away from him, stalking toward the edge of the roof. “Look for the escape ladder.”

Vense was doing nothing of the sort. He had shielded his eyes with one hand and was staring up into the sky. In the deepest part, the stars were quite visible. “The sun’s hardly even moved since we got here.” Turning around, he surveyed the gas planet they were orbiting. It looked like a half eaten peppermint in the sky. “How long do you think it’s been?”

“Too long. Use your watch.” He spied the ladder at last. It was folded up and needed to be opened. “Come over here and give me a hand. They’re stuck tight.”

Vense set his tools down on top of the case they had liberated, but merely stood, watching as Gaius strained at the stairs.

“You realize that is not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Stand back.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, stand back.”

Dubiously, Gaius straightened up and took a step back. When he did, Vense tapped a small lever with his foot. The restrain popped off and the stairs effortlessly deployed. Gaius stared at the sight, completely dumbfounded for several seconds.

Vense was grinning, almost smug. “It’s a fire escape, right? Had to be an easy way to get them down.”

Gaius said nothing, just mounted the stairs and took the case when Vense had the foresight to hand it to him.

“That’s an awfully long way down,” Vense noted.

“It’s safe.”

“Are those people down there?”

Gaius glanced down. It was not hard to make out a group of wealthy tourists dressed for the weather milling about. “Midnight tours, no doubt. Now move it.”

“Won’t they see us?”

Gaius clenched his jaw. “Not if we’re very quiet.”

“Still think Kerra should have picked us up here. Annaj could have dropped one of those rope ladders from the airlock.”

“And alerted the entire facility to our escape in the process.” Gaius looked up from his position on the ladder. “Do you notice the complete lack of any sounding alarms? They don’t even realize anything is missing, and if my security override works as it should they won’t until morning.” He glanced distastefully at the sun. “Or whatever passes for morning on this moon.”

“It’s tidally locked.”

“I know that.”

“Four weeks of sunlight and then four weeks of night.” Vense took a long look at the surrounding forests and waterscapes. “I grew up on a moon like this.”

“Would you like to die on a moon like this?”

Catching the hint, Vense started down the ladder after him. “Well, not quite like this,” he said once they were halfway down. “Mine wasn’t so much with the touristy forests and mountains. More like barren and rocky. We lived in a dome.”

“You grew up on Luna. You’ve told me at least a hundred times. Now kindly shut up.”

To Gaius’ surprise, he did. They reached the ground in silence and if any of the tourists had noticed them, they hadn’t said anything. In the distance, a shuttle was arriving to take the midnight tour sightseeing. Gaius watched them board for a few moments, pondering the wealth one could amass from four weeks of round-the-clock sightseeing, then turned his back to them.

Let the others draw the tourists to places like these; Gaius need only gather their money once it had all been collected.

“Which way?” Vense asked. “Left, isn’t it?”

Checking the compass built into his wristwatch, Gaius pointed. “There. The ship should be about a kilometer that way.”

“Couldn’t have just picked us up at the door, huh?”

“We were dropped off less than three hours ago. That might have seemed a little suspicious.” Gaius gave one last glance at the tourists, before purposefully striding into the forest. If anyone saw them go, he wanted to look like they had nothing to hide.

“A kilometer is a long way in this heat, isn’t it?” Vense stated, flapping his shirt.

The sunlight through the leaves was dappling their skin black and gold, but the shade provided little relief from the warmth. The case Gaius was carrying seemed to have grown heavier and heavier until he was certain it must contain gold bricks and not credit chits. “It is more bearable in silence.”

“I could carry that for you, if you want.”

“I said it’s fine,” Gaius snapped. He shifted the case back to his right hand. He had no desire to let go of the goods until the case was locked in the strong hold on the ship, but even more than that, he resented showing weakness of body in front of Vense. At forty-five, he wasn’t even ten years older than Vense. There was no excuse for him to be so out of shape.

“I think I see the ship!” Vense stepped up his pace.

Gaius stopped and dropped the case, drawing heavy breaths. He watched was Vense disappear into the undergrowth. Sweat was trickling down his back in rivulets and hair was sticking to his brow. Even the sight of the ship was not giving him the burst of energy he needed to go any faster. He would make it to the ship in time and only hoped his muscles wouldn’t be so fatigued he needed extended rest. Vense wasn’t likely to comment on how out of shape he had become, but Annaj and Kerra were not so kindly ignorant.

“Hurry up, Guy! I found them!” Vense called.

Scowling at the nickname, Gaius found his motivation. He picked up the case and pushed through the underbrush. “I’ve told you not to call me that.” Before he could protest, Vense took the case from his hand, tucked it under his arms and sprinted the rest of the distance from the edge of the forest to the small glade Kerra had landed the Karma in.

Kerra’s voice rang out from inside the ship. “What took you so long!”

“Vense had to stop and sightsee.”

“Gaius had trouble with the computer system.”

“I did not.”

Vense shoved the case into Kerra’s arms and threw himself down on the couch in the small loading bay. “A kilometer is a long way to walk in this heat, too.”

Kerra’s eyes were locked on Gaius. “But you got it, right?” She hugged the case tightly to her chest, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Although Gaius’ body yearned to collapse on the couch beside Vense, he remained upright, determined not to show anymore weakness. “It’s all there.”

Kerra threw it down on the low table in front of the couch and popped the lid open. Inside, the credit chits were neatly arranged by monetary value. She gave a low whistle. “There’s enough here to buy the Karma three times over.”

“And we get forty percent.”

“Never seen that many chits all at once before,” Annaj said as she came into the room from the cockpit. Her eyes lifted off the case. “You need some water, Gaius? Your face is flushed.”

“It’s hot out there.” Pushing away from the open door, he said, “Let’s get going. We’re still too close for my comfort.”

Vense got to his feet. “Don’t want to count our plates before we’ve laid the table!”

The baffled looks Kerra and Annaj gave him almost made Gaius burst into laughter. It nearly made the whole ordeal worthwhile. Vense caught his eye and gave him a brilliant smile. Gaius rather pointedly ignored him.

“Places, everyone!” Kerra called, heading up the steps to the cockpit. “We’re taking off in five minutes! Get that door closed, Gaius!”

Annaj darted through to check on the engine while Vense disappeared into the passenger hold to put away his tools and buckle in. Gaius reclosed the case of credit chits and engaged the lock. Once certain it was safe, he secured the case in the strong hold and engaged those locks as well. Around him, the ship began powering up.

Over the intercom, Kerra called, “Gaius! Secure that door!”

Returning to the cargo hold, Gaius made to close the ramp and seal the airlock on the door but drew up short at movement in the underbrush surrounding the ship. He did not think they had been followed, but put his hand on the weapon at his hip anyway, ready to draw it at the first sign of danger. He caught a flash of brown in the green leaves, glinting gold and tawny as they caught the sun. Then the beast stepped into the clearing and came into view.

It was a strange four-legged creature and looked half-horse, half deer. Its round velvety ears were tucked back against its head at the sound the ship was making and it was clear that curiosity and fear were warring at each other. The creature had cloven hooves, a dark muzzle and a twisted, spiral horn jutting from the center of its forehead.

By the time Gaius realized he was looking at a unicorn, the engine had finished take-off warm ups and an alarm sounded, alerting them to an open airlock. Gaius reacted instinctively, slammed his hand down on the valve and brought up the ramp and sealed the airlock. The klaxon cut off and the whine of the engines decreased. The ship lurched as it lifted, nearly sending Gaius to the floor, and by the time he made it to the port window, the unicorn was gone.
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