The War for Profit Series Omnibus by Gideon Fleisher Read Free Book Online Page A

nothing. He sensed a gradual but steady increase in the velocity of the drop ship. It lifted smoothly, taking nearly two minutes to reach two Gs. Then BAM, the secondary thrusters fired. The ship lurched upward, vibrating and groaning for a few seconds while it tore out of the last layer of the atmosphere. The three young mercenaries didn’t talk much, not accustomed to weighing three times as much as normal.
    Galen wondered how the civilian passengers fared. After all, he was a strong, physically fit young soldier and he was not feeling well at all. It took every ounce of determination and discipline he could muster to keep from slumping over into unconsciousness. He felt as though his bowels were about to explode.
    “What manner of torture is this?” said Tad through clenched teeth.
    Galen envied him. At least Tad had strength enough to speak. The chronometer on the weapons control panel showed only twenty minutes elapsed since the torment began. Galen knew he couldn’t take another moment of it, but what could he do? Pride made him put up a front of being able to handle the stress.
    A voice, this one less cultured and more strained than the steward’s, came over the intercom, “You there at weapons station two. What in the name of God are you doing? HEY YOU, I can see you on my monitor!”
    Galen looked over Spike’s shoulder and saw a large red “2” stenciled over the weapons control panel.
    “You mean us?” grunted Galen.
    “Yes, you. Why don’t you lay on the floor like everybody else? You keep sitting up like that and you’ll break your stupid neck. Too late for you to get out your mat, but lying on the bare floor is better than being paralyzed from the neck down for the rest of your life.”
    “Aw,” said another voice in the background, “they’re them tank jockeys. I figured they’d know better. Guess not.”
    “You people lay down right now or I’ll jettison your carcasses at the turnaround point.”
    The three friends lay on their backs on the floor of the weapons station for the remainder of the high-G burn, grateful but embarrassed. When the acceleration finally stopped and gravity inside the drop ship became zero, Galen had an intense feeling of falling that lasted a couple of minutes. He closed his eyes for a second but had to reopen them. The sensation of falling was too intense, too real. He had to focus his attention and hold tightly to the bulkhead and deck to keep from losing his grip on reality.
    Spike and Tad seemed unaffected. They went to use the restroom. When they returned, Galen was somewhat relaxed. Galen saw Spike floating and mused over how even in zero-G, he seemed to be leaning on something, totally calm. Tad, of course, was performing gymnastics and trying as quickly as possible to develop a talent for floating. When Galen left the weapons station to visit the head, Tad was altering the speed of his body’s axial rotation by extending his arms to slow down, then bringing them in to allow himself to spin faster.
    When Galen got back to the weapons station the hatchway wouldn’t open. It was locked. Galen beat on the door and could hear a rude voice coming over the intercom inside, “You got ten seconds to get that gun under control or I’ll de-pressurize your cabin!” Ten seconds later, the lock disengaged. Galen opened the hatch and floated in.
    “What happened while I was gone?”
    “We decided to get out our high-G pads for the deceleration towards the jump point,” said Spike.
    “Somehow we let them float around too much. They bumped into the panel and activated the fire control system. That guy on the bridge got pretty hot about it. Anyhow, we’ll have about two minutes of half-G to get organized before full deceleration, meaning two Gs, sets in.”
    “Oh,” said Galen.
    An insistent beating came at the hatchway. It was the steward. “Here. Normally we don’t give these to military passengers, usually it isn’t necessary. Read it.” He handed Galen a