Acarea. A Triumph or Disaster? (SpaceFed StarShips Series Book 5): A Novel by Gerry A. Saunders (SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy) Read online

  Acarea

  A Triumph or Disaster?

  Book 5

  2nd Edition

  Includes new material

  A Novel by Gerry A Saunders

  Cover art By Gerry A. Saunders

  © Copyright 2015 Gerry A. Saunders

  About the Author

  I started writing my first book, a science-fiction novel, some years ago. Then, fate conspired to point me in a different direction.

  Although my career in electronic design was both exciting and fulfilling, especially with the fast moving pace of the technology employed. I never lost my love of Space or of the possibility of man one-day travelling in space and colonising other planets.

  It wasn't until 2013 that I had time to continue writing my first book, ‘Battles at Zeta Reticuli,’ Once started I was unable to stop, until finally, I had three books and my SpaceFed-StarShips trilogy, was complete.

  However, while writing the final book in my trilogy, I realised that I had more storylines in mind, and my fourth book, ‘Death of Time,’ then followed on from book three of my Trilogy.

  Now, having completed ‘Acarea, A Triumph, or Disaster?’ I find myself with the fifth book in what has now become my SpaceFed StarShips Series.

  These books bring the whole SpaceFed saga together. With changing timelines culminating in my sixth, and last, book in this series, 'The Garoden War,' an epic interstellar war that spreads throughout our Galaxy.

  I hope you will help me by purchasing more of my books, and that you thoroughly enjoy reading my new novel.

  Acknowledgements

  All of the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to organisations or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  While I have made every effort in making this novel as technically accurate as possible. Some stretch of the imagination gives plausibility to achievements that could be the norm by the year 2100.

  Dedication.

  I would like to thank my wife for her patience and support in helping me complete this novel.

  If you enjoy reading Acarea, please help me by reviewing it on Amazon.

  Other Books by this Author

  SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy.

  Book 1. Battles at Zeta Reticuli.

  Book 2. Battle for Delta Pavonis.

  Book 3. An Alliance at Kepler

  Book 4. Death of Time.

  Book 6. The Garoden War. - Out early 2016.

  http://www.spacefedbooks.com

  Content.

  Acarea

  About the Author

  Dedication.

  Other Books by this Author

  Content.

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5.

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  A sample from my next book.

  Chapter 1

  The Assassination Guild

  In 2093, a gigantic meteor had passed through the Earth’s atmosphere, creating a devastating firestorm that almost reached down to the Earth’s surface itself.

  If it had made contact with Earth, then it would have destroyed it. As it was, over three million people died in the passage of destruction that crossed China then continued up and through eastern Russia.

  With more than three close misses by meteors in the last 40 years, Earth’s Governments finally came together to design and build a series of nuclear domes to put into orbit around the planet. With their nuclear missiles strategically placed to protect the Earth from the meteors.

  Most people were pleased that the meteors, which appeared to have been playing Russian roulette with Earth’s very existence, had finally forced countries to take the problem seriously.

  There was even some talk of forming a ruling alliance or world federation. This, would then replace the UN and NATO, plus the Russian Federation and the European Union, as well as similar organisations in other non-member countries, and could be in place as early as 2146. Though, even that seemed a very long way off, and this couldn’t come quickly enough for the people.

  In the meantime, the jostling for power increased around the world. With selective killings, by hired assassins, continuing to enable corrupt people to take control, and, above all, ensuring that they would remain in power when the proposed changes came into effect. Everyone knew these changes must happen, and that they would eventually come, no matter what.

  Now, in 2103, the Assassination Guild was a worldwide organization. Although they had split it into two distinct entities, the Contractor and the Paymaster, its tendrils had spread everywhere. With the Guild’s Contractor controlling an extensive network of assassins. This network of killers was full of ruthless men and women, all of whom were more than willing to kill anyone placed under contract.

  The Contractors and their Paymaster establishments were an unknown quantity in that they were highly secretive, and protected 24/7 by armed guards. With all instructions and payment details, sent via specially encrypted phone messages to each assassin. While payments were always delivered by drones.

  The Guild earned vast sums of money by wiping out anyone that their wealthy and influential customers wanted to get rid of. As long as their clients were willing to pay the enormous sums of money, the Guild demanded.

  Many of the victims had been selected on the whim of these mainly influential people. People, who had enough money to be able to advance their own position in life by having their competitor, or rival, wiped out, just to keep them in, Power.

  Police forces throughout the developed world seemed impotent against the Assassination Guild. The Guild was even protected by court officers themselves. Some of these, including Judges, were eager to preserve their own way of life. While others were obliged to co-operate with the Guild, just to survive. With very few arrests taking place. It seemed to most people that the Guild was above the law. Leaving politicians, heads of industry, and even the General Public as their legitimate targets. In fact, the Guild was so powerful and uncontrollable that it even threatened the setting up of a proposed, World Federation that was to be in place by 2146.

  In the meantime, as the jostling for power continued around the world. The selective murders by this guild of hired assassins continued unabated.

  The downward spiral into chaos seemed inevitable, and most people just took it for granted.

  But not all.

  Chapter 2

  Assassin. 1st Class

  At 6ft 5inches, Butcher was a very tall, dark-skinned man. He had wavy jet-black hair and sunken-looking brown eyes that seemed too close tog
ether. While his moustache, though short and neat, appeared to grow from out of his nostrils.

  He was well named in that, having previously worked as a butcher, he was now known as The Butcher, from the gory methods he employed in his profession.

  Butcher was an assassin, and one of the most feared. He took pleasure in his job and was currently working his way through a list of nine hit-contracts. Four of which he still needed to complete.

  Of course, the money played an important part. Earning him a minimum of 100 thousand dollars for each job. He knew that the Assassination Guild probably received more than150 thousand dollars per hit. But that didn’t concern him at all. After all, they had to do the organizing and liaise with the person placing the contract in the first instance. Then, of course, they had the paymaster’s cut to consider.

  He knew that the Guild had many assassins. Even so, work was plentiful these days. Especially for him, Assassin 29, and the Guild’s most successful killer.

  Today, he was dressed in a dark grey suit with matching overcoat, and, apart from the slight bulge of something hidden under his coat, he looked more of an executive than the vicious killer that he was. He was waiting for Professor Moore, his next victim, to arrive.

  He lingered patiently in one of the several dark archways that ran along one side of the narrow street that separated the small, but busy café from the railway bridge. As he waited, his mind drifted.

  He had recently heard about another assassin. A woman, who, although apparently exquisite, only took on challenging assignments.

  He would really like to meet her one day, he thought to himself. It seemed that she didn’t derive any thrill or adrenaline rush from simple, no risk contracts. Contracts where you could just walk up to someone in the street and shoot him or her using a silencer. Those contracts didn’t need imagination, or daring, and meant nothing to her.

  The guild’s paymaster, Pragnorton, had told him that she only killed men, and how, in Pragnorton’s words, ‘she used her body to lure her target.’

  As he waited, his mind played out bizarre encounters with her. Yes, he would seek her out after he had completed his remaining hits. Even though that might be dangerous, he relished the thought.

  It was already six o’clock and the light was fading fast. He was starting to feel the cold but knew he had to ignore it if he wanted to complete the contract. He had already found out all he needed to know about his target, and he had the number for the target’s security guard now, as well.

  Of course, these days it was so easy to copy a phone’s password and even the encryption method used. All he had to do was to be near enough for his pocket scanner to interrogate the target’s phone for it to give up all the information he needed.

  The cafe itself had the usual inside area and a small courtyard with eight tables. He had been here three days in a row just to make sure the target and his security guard adhered to the same pattern.

  He studied the people sitting at the café’s tables. He knew it would be foolhardy to assume everyone was exactly what they seemed to be, and undercover police officers were the hardest to suss.

  A couple, sitting at a table on the far edge of the courtyard, were seemingly oblivious to the world around them. The man was plump and bald-headed. While the woman sitting opposite him was very attractive and slim, with long hair falling down over her shoulders. She was trying to bottle feed her child while the man calmly read his news foil.

  They’re no danger, Butcher thought. Then cast his eye on the next table, where two men were apparently discussing something over a cup of coffee. A coffee break, he surmised.

  Two women sat chatting at a table close to café’s entrance. Both were engrossed in sipping their drinks. Again no problem for him.

  In the middle of the courtyard, a teenager waited at his table for his girlfriend to return. I know where you’ve been, he absentmindedly thought to himself, as he saw her come back and kiss him. Then they left.

  The last couple seated close to the table where his target regularly sat, beckoned the waiter over. He came across and gave the man the bill. The butcher smiled to himself as he saw the man hand it to the woman, as she got her credit card out. My, my, he thought as the waiter went back inside. The lazy sod made her pay.

  Then Butcher detected a movement out of the corner of his eye, as his target’s bodyguard arrived and settled into the next archway further along the street. Getting closer now, he thought. Still keeping an eye on the couple who had just paid their bill and were waiting for the return of their credit card.

  Butcher didn’t have long to wait before a smartly dressed man, with a briefcase secured to his wrist, arrived and sat down at his usual table with his back to him. He quickly checked the ‘Mug’ shot his client had given him, and grinned. He was satisfied that the man was indeed his target.

  Butcher noticed that the bodyguard looked tense now. He could tell that the guard was ready to pounce on any would-be attacker. So sent a pre-recorded message to the security guard’s phone. The man looked nervously at his screen, hesitated a moment. Then hurriedly left the area.

  Butcher quickly moved out of the archway, heading towards his target. He pulled his powerful weapon, which he affectionately and unsurprisingly called Butcher, from beneath his coat. Its short barrel glinting in the soft evening light as he held it behind him. The waiter was heading towards the couple's table, but on seeing this, immediately turned around and went back inside the café.

  By the time he reached the man, all the café customers had looked away, having seen his gun, and not wanting to get involved.

  “Are you Professor Moore?”

  “Yes,” the man said as he politely stood up and turned to face Butcher. “Do I know you?”

  “No, but I’m your worst nightmare,” he replied, as he brought his gun around, aimed it and squeezed the trigger in one flowing motion.

  Professor Moore’s body jerked violently backwards. A look of sheer horror crossed his face, as he crashed against the table. Blood spurted from the mangled wound in his chest. While blood and bone, from the exit wound in his back, showered across the table behind him.

  Butcher grinned as he watched Professor Moore’s now lifeless body slide slowly down and onto the floor.

  He opened his weapon’s breach, removed the spent cartridge and slipped another into the chamber. Re-cocked the gun, and blew Professor’s Moore’s right hand off. Then quickly picked up the still twitching hand, gripped tightly around the briefcase’s handle, and placed them both on the table.

  Nobody bothered him as he hurriedly pulled the tablecloth off the next table, sending cutlery crashing to the floor.

  He wiped the splattered blood off his weapon’s barrel with the cloth. Carefully removed the severed hand from the briefcase’s handle. Then cleaned the blood off the briefcase before wrapping the hand in the cloth, and putting it in the case.

  Then clipped his gun back into a holder under his coat. Picked up the briefcase, and walked calmly away as if nothing had happened.

  Once Butcher had left the cafe. The couple closest to the scene, who were still waiting for their credit card, just brushed the splattering of blood and bone fragments off themselves and waited patiently for the waiter to return.

  None of the café’s customers dared to look towards Professor Moore’s body.

  They all knew better.

  The twenty-first of October 2106.

  Patrick Bernstein paid the clerk the final payment of one hundred thousand dollars, for both his cousin Anna and her husband Harry’s berths on the Acarea. Then waited while the payment was processed.

  “Here you are, sir,” he said as he handed over the tickets. “This completes the transaction for both of the stasis chambers. If you lose them. Or they’re stolen, your berth holders will need to have their ID’s and scans verified again at the embarkation point.”

  “Thank you,” Patrick replied.

  “You’re welcome Sir,” the clerk acknowledged. “Watch o
ut for yourself tonight, there are too many nasty people around these days for my liking.”

  “I will. And thanks,” he replied as he put the tickets in his inside coat pocket.