The Oilman's Daughter by Allison M. Dickson, Ian Thomas Healy Read Free Book Online Page B

entered a sanatorium for treatment. A longtime resident of orbital space, he faced a long, painful battle as he had to re-acclimate to gravity. Jonathan didn’t envy him.
    Finally, one passenger had been killed, six injured, and one was missing. “Missing?” asked Jonathan aloud. “We lost a passenger?” He thought of Cecilie again and tried to push away his encroaching dread.
    “I’m afraid so, lad. We couldn’t find any sign of her. We’re afraid she may have been taken by the pirates. Nasty business, that. Poor girl.”
    “Her? Who was it?” But he already knew, deep in the pit of him.
    “French lass named Cecilie Renault. Traveling by herself.”
    “And what’s being done to find her?”
    Ernest shrugged and downed his cup of coffee. “Nothing, I’m afraid. Space Guard couldn’t catch the bastards. She’s gone. The CR will have to pay off her family to avoid any kind of unpleasant press.”
    “Unpleasant press?” Jonathan was aghast. “We’ve had a girl kidnapped off our very own train and all you can think about is unpleasant press?”
    Ernest fixed a solemn gaze on him. “What else would you have us do? We have a business to run. We’re not the Space Guard. Leave it to them to chase the pirates.”
    Jonathan felt his mouth working, but nothing came out. He’d never felt so helpless before. Cecilie was a kind and smart woman, and for the briefest moment in the cupola, he thought he’d felt a spark kindle between them, a connection born of being the children of highly ambitious fathers looking to change the world. He might have even courted her, if she would have had him. And now she was the pawn of some pirates floating around somewhere in the void of space, and for what? Perhaps they thought she was wealthy and worth some good coin. Certainly they couldn’t have been interested in her father’s crackpot petroleum venture.
    “We can’t just let them get away, Ernest.”
    “What are you going to do, lad, rescue her yourself?” Regardless of intent, Ernest’s laugh sounded mocking. Of course, the idea of Victor Orbital’s disappointingly bland spawn jetting into space to rescue a fair maiden from the clutches of greasy space pirates was worth mocking. Jonathan didn’t have a heroic bone in his body; his only real ambition in life had been to balance ledgers and push paper across a desk far, far away from orbiting trains. Even now, the mere thought of entering microgravity again made him queasy, but for the first time in his soft and simple life, he felt the calling of a greater purpose. This mad certainty must have been what drove his father to build empires, but Jonathan didn’t want an empire. He just wanted the chance to find the woman that had captivated him, and perhaps ask her to dinner.
    He stood up. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Knowing he was going to need every bit of fortitude he could muster, he drained his strong, bitter coffee in a single gulp. “Give me her passenger information. I’ll need to speak with her father.”
    Ernest shook his head in sad amusement as he handed the railroad’s copy of Cecilie’s ticket to Jonathan. “It’s a waste of your time, lad. If they haven’t already killed her by now, she’ll certainly wish she was dead.”
    “Don’t be so sure. She’s no wilting violet. Good day to you, Ernest.”
    Porter fell into step behind Jonathan as the young man marched out of Ascent Tower. “Shall we return to the hotel, sir?”
    “Eventually, yes. First I need to cable my father, and then we need to find Dr. Renault. We’re going to rescue Mademoiselle Cecilie from the pirates, Jefferson.”
    Porter didn’t even blink. “Very good, sir.”

    Chapter Four
     
    Under the direction of his Captain, young Sebastian guided the battered Ethershark down into the defunct lunar lava tube that served as the docking station for the pirates’ grotto. The ship groaned and creaked with every puff of deceleration. Phinneas could almost feel the