Saucer: Savage Planet by Stephen Coonts Read Free Book Online

achieved a sustainable orbit a few minutes ago.”
    The president ceased pumping the pedals and sat silently.
    “The Cantrells are still in Missouri?”
    “The FBI says they are. They have the Cantrell farm under surveillance.”
    The president sighed and mopped his face with a towel. “Do the networks have this orbit thing?”
    “Space Command is issuing a press release.”
    “I suppose they have to.”
    “Yes, sir. It would look bad for the air force if someone reported it and Space Command appeared to be caught flatfooted.”
    “I guess.”
    It’s the media age we live in, the president reflected when he was again alone. He pedaled a few more revolutions, then stopped.
    He felt as if he had entered a movie theater with only ten minutes left in the movie, and he had no idea what the plot was.
    What in the world is going on?
    *   *   *
    That very same question occurred to Dr. Harrison Douglas of World Pharmaceuticals when he heard the news on the Fox Network. A saucer had gone into orbit—was it his saucer? Did that thief Solo fly it into space?
    Egg Cantrell out in Missouri. He knew all about flying saucers. Hell, his nephew Rip found one in the Sahara! God only knew where the Sahara saucer was.
    Well, he might have lost one saucer, but Douglas knew the name of someone who could probably lay hands on another, if properly stimulated.
    As the beautiful young women of Fox gassed about flying saucers and aliens and the state of the universe, Johnny Murkowsky of Murk Corporation, another Big Pharma company, was also thinking about how to get information out of Egg Cantrell. And that young man, Rip. And that test pilot, Charlotte Pine.
    The possibilities of human drug information on a flying saucer’s computer hadn’t previously occurred to Johnny Murkowsky, yet he could add two and two. If that lizard Harrison Douglas had invested eight million smackeroos trying to get at a saucer, there must be something there that could be turned into money. Drug money, which is the kind World Pharmaceuticals and Murk Corporation made. Big money. Really Big Money, or RBM.
    Murkowsky didn’t have a saucer. Maybe the Cantrells did, maybe they didn’t, but they might know something. They would talk. They had to. There was RBM at stake.
    *   *   *
    A large dog found Adam Solo as he approached the camping area. It came running, barking fiercely, and skidded to a stop just a few feet from Solo, who stood motionless as it approached.
    The dog growled and snarled, showing its teeth.
    Solo extended his hand and stared the dog in the eyes.
    The mongrel ceased to growl. It stood motionless, almost as if it were waiting. Now the upper lip relaxed, covering its fangs.
    Solo took two steps toward the dog with his hand extended.
    The dog licked his hand, then sat, watching him expectantly.
    “Let’s go meet your folks,” Solo said, and resumed walking toward the camping area, which by now was fully ablaze in lights. Behind him, the sky was beginning to brighten with the coming dawn.
    The dog fell in behind Solo and matched his stride.
    A man in his sixties standing beside an Airstream trailer hitched to a large pickup truck watched them come. He glanced at Solo, then addressed the dog. “A fine watchdog you are, Pag. You are supposed to be barking, scaring off strangers.”
    “He did his best,” Solo said, gesturing at the dog, “but we talked and became friends.”
    The man snorted, looking Solo over. “And who are you?”
    “Just a traveler,” Solo responded. “As we all are. The dog’s name?”
    “Paganini.”
    “Ah, you are an aficionado of the violin?”
    The man smiled. “Retired from a studio orchestra in Hollywood. By any chance, do you play the violin?”
    “As a matter of fact, I do.”
    “My name’s Stephens. What can we do for you this fine autumn morning?”
    “I was wondering if I could get a ride into town.”
    “Did you hear that noise, that rumble like thunder a little while ago?”
    “Yes, I did.