After Moses Prodigal Read online

  AFTER MOSES

  Prodigal

  Michael F. Kane

  After Moses Prodigal by Michael F. Kane

  www.michaelfkane.com

  © 2020 Michael F. Kane

  All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permissions contact: [email protected]

  ISBN: 978-1-7341723-1-7

  Cover by Evan Cakamurenssen

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Parent’s Guide

  Chapter 1: A Rumor Bound in Journal

  Chapter 2: Beneath the Surface

  Chapter 3: Divergent Paths

  Chapter 4: Alliances

  Chapter 5: Night at the Opera

  Chapter 6: Leader of the Pack

  Chapter 7: Shanty Town Ascension

  Chapter 8: Desperation and Consequence

  Chapter 9: Ganymede Interlude

  Chapter 10: Two-Thirty-Eight

  Chapter 11: Homecoming

  Chapter 12: Heritage

  Chapter 13: Assault on Bennet Tower

  Chapter 14: The Sinners’ Summit

  Chapter 15: The Foundations of the World

  Chapter 16: The Prodigal of Ceres

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Author Bio

  Acknowledgments

  And here I am already having to write a second page of acknowledgments!

  My wife, Heather Kane and mother, Stephanie Kane get first call out again. They’ve both spent countless hours in editing and for that I am forever grateful.

  I’m thankful for my writing group. Jordan Kincer and Conner Poulton have diligently read and critiqued my writing, and while we don’t always agree on all the finer points, both of them help me to stay sharp.

  Finally, I must say thank you to the God that made me. Being a creator, He saw fit to make me in some ways like Himself. Made in His image, I too have the desire to craft new worlds with the breath from my lips.

  Parent’s Guide

  Thinking about letting a kiddo a kiddo read After Moses: Prodigal and want to know what kind of potentially objectional content it has? This is the place for you. Everyone else can move right on if you would like. Arguably, there are super-tiny spoilers ahead.

  Violence

  Lots of gun fights and some fist fights. Most violence is not described graphically. People are described as shot, but blood and gore are rarely described. Two deaths near the end are more graphic. One character is cut in half, but it is not described and happens “off screen.” Another character is executed by an organized crime boss.

  Language

  Infrequent mild language, limited to hell, damn, and one instance of bastard used to describe a child born out of wedlock.

  Alcohol/Tobacco/Drugs

  A few scenes take place in bars where alcohol is present. Characters are seen smoking cigarettes. Drug trafficking is mentioned in a distasteful light but isn’t relevant to the plot.

  Sexual Content

  Human trafficking is mentioned. One short scene takes place at a brothel. There is no specific sexual content mentioned and the women are depicted as victims of organized crime and the sex trade. One vague threat about how dangerous it would be for a teenage girl to be taken captive by gangsters.

  Other Negative Elements

  Slavery is major background part of the story. Organized crime is another key focus.

  Chapter 1: A Rumor Bound in Journal

  When we speak about the turn of the last century, inevitably the conversation will turn towards the great personalities that shaped that age. Norman Barclay, President of the Colony of Arizona; Johan Willems, fourth pope of the Colonial Vatican; and Alexander Logan, terrorist and Abrogationist, are just a few of the names that come to mind.

  And then, of course, there is Matthew Cole. Much of who he was and what he did has passed into legend. The freelancers have always been romanticized like cowboys of the old west, but none so much as Cole. As a historian, I am often asked about him, and it is inevitably disappointing when I must set the record straight. It’s not that he wasn’t one of the age’s great forces, it’s that he was, after all, only one man. Perhaps it was how he stood in opposition to his one-time friend, the Unchained Man, that has earned him such love. Like Rome and Carthage or the Duke of Wellington and Napoleon Bonaparte, history loves rivals.

  Neither was he alone in his deeds. For as many tales as are told about the Gaucho, people often forget about the rest of his crew. Some have gone on to be famous in their own right, but even the least of these made their mark in history. Grace Anderson would seem to have been the most inconsequential, and yet the part that was hers to play in the Ceres Incident would shake the foundations of that dwarf planet. The fates of many were changed because of Anderson.

  And this was while she was yet a child.

  Nathan Philips

  Historian and Author

  Died 183 AM

  LEXTER MIYOSHI WAS either the most brilliant genius in the solar system or an idiot of unrivaled scale. The next ten minutes were going to be pretty telling just which way that would fall.

  He slipped the cover off of a vent and crawled into the dusty enclosure, and pulling it closed behind him, tried to make as little noise as possible. He pushed a button on his watch and read the numerals ticking upward. Any second now his theft would be discovered. It was going to be touch and go, but he’d planned this day out to the smallest detail. If he were a betting man, he’d place odds in his favor, but only by a little.

  A chorus of shouts echoed down the shaft from above him. The game was on. He heard the pounding of footsteps as the group realized what he had done. His hand unconsciously slipped into his jacket pocket to feel the cool leather of the journal hidden there. The escrow account he’d set up to mediate the transaction would be auto transferring several thousand dollars to a slightly less legal account right about now.

  He was walking out of here with everything.

  That’s why you should always make sure your third party is trustworthy.

  The shouts got louder. Someone was searching his floor now. Better go ahead with the next phase. He reached into his other pocket, palmed a remote, and pressed the button.

  In the garage below, an engine roared to life. There was a titanic crash as the grav truck smashed through the bay door and roared out into the street. The simple program driving the thing would probably only get a few kilometers before it bugged out and ran off the road, but that was more than enough time if the sounds echoing through the vent were any indication. Both parties were taking the bait and rushing downstairs for the garage.

  Lex smiled. He wanted to laugh aloud and congratulate himself on his own brilliance. Sadly, that would lead to getting caught, which would only ruin the fun, but there would be plenty of time for that later. Carefully he stood up in the vent and clipped himself into the waiting harness and pressed another button on the remote. An electric motor on the roof silently turned on and began to winch him up the vent.

  He peeked through the grate as he passed the next floor and frowned. Someone was still there. He didn’t get a look at who it was. Oh well. It would have been too easy if they’d all chased the truck.

  The winch finished its job as he reached roof level. He pushed the grate open, stepped out of the vent, and unhooked himself from the harness. He carefully shut the grate to conceal his trail.

  The hinge made a loud, tortured squeak as it closed.

  Maybe he should have made sure the hinges were oiled during the planning stages. Surely no one had heard.

  He couldn’t risk hanging around any longer. Opening the door, he crept out o
nto the roof, walking as softly as possible. Better not make any more noise at this point. It was twilight and the dying embers of the Martian sunset still lit the horizon. He walked to his bridge and slowly crossed to the next building, trying to ignore the four-story drop to the ground beneath. When he reached the other side, he touched a button in his pocket, and the far side of the bridge unlatched and swung gently down to lay flat against the wall. Outside of a death-defying leap, there was no way to follow him. He turned and walked across the rooftop to the next bridge.

  The sound of a door opening behind him caught his attention, and he spun, dropping into a half-crouch. It was... That blonde-haired teen that had come with the Shield Maiden and Gaucho.

  Honestly, he was a bit insulted. After all, here he was in the middle of scamming a powerful yakuza clan and one of the more famous freelancer crews and the only one with the brains to not fall for his little ruse was a child?

  He gave her a rude gesture and turned to cross the next bridge. He’d make it away before the adults realized their mistake.

  She shouted something at him, but he ignored it and tiptoed to the next roof, making sure to collapse that bridge as well. He glanced over his shoulder.

  The girl had somehow managed to cross to the second building. How was that even possible? There was at least a four-meter gap and she wasn’t going to be able to make that kind of jump unless she was a lot more athletic than she looked. There was a strange smirk on her face as if she knew something he didn’t.

  Maybe he shouldn’t underestimate her. She’d come with the Shield Maiden and Gaucho after all. He ran across the roof to the fire escape. He had to lose her. If he was caught, not only would he lose the journal and be forced to transfer the money back to the escrow account, it was probably going to hurt. A lot. Because the yakuza would murder him. He threw his legs over the side of the building onto the rickety metal escape. Four stories and he would be safe. He slid as fast as he could down the flights of stairs, but he was still too slow.

  He felt the vibration as the girl stepped onto the escape above him. She’d crossed the second gap and caught up to him.

  “Hey! Wait up!”

  “No thank you!” he called. That was the last thing he was going to do. Too much was at stake and odds were good that she’d already called for help. Whatever this shifty little girl had done to catch him was uncanny. He took the stairs two or three at a time. His footfalls reverberated through the metal structure. After two flights he looked above him.

  She was gaining on him fast.

  He reached the bottom and dropped the ladder to the ground, but she was just a few steps above him. “Where are you going, Lex?”

  If he were better at this, he would have had a witty retort. At least he could have saved some face. He really needed to work on that. Instead he just ignored her and turned to climb down the ladder. Honestly, what was she going to do to him? Gnaw at his ankles or something?

  The escape ladder squeaked loudly as it impossibly slid back up into place. How the... He turned to see the girl had an outstretched arm. Something blue glowed beneath her sleeve. His eyes went wide in panic. Of course, she wasn’t just some defenseless girl! She hung with some of the best freelancers in the solar system.

  He pointed over her shoulder. “Look out!”

  She fell for it and that was all the distraction he needed. He leaped off the escape to a dumpster beneath him, landing waist deep in garbage. For a moment he laid there, stomach still in his throat from the drop and heart hammering in his ears. This was the dumbest scam he had ever tried to pull.

  The sound of the ladder being lowered again brought him to his senses. He clambered over pieces of garbage as the girl started down the ladder. “Hey wait up,” she said. “I don’t want to have to hurt you, but I will.” Lexter hit the ground at a run, making for the entrance of the alley. His own getaway vehicle was just around the corner. All he had to do was reach it and he was home free.

  He skidded around the corner, nearly stumbling in his haste. There it was. He opened the door to the grav truck and keyed the ignition. And with that, he was out of here a much richer man. Sure, he’d have to leave Mars and his illustrious career as Kyoto’s most underappreciated fixer, but that was a small price to pay for a score like this.

  Lexter mashed the accelerator and the truck lurched away. So much for that freelancer crew. They hadn’t been so tough after all.

  The truck jerked violently to a stop nearly as soon as it moved. He looked in the mirror and almost panicked at the sight. The girl was behind him, hand outstretched and wrist glowing blue. She had a hold of the entire truck. What was this? Some kind of earthtech? If he were a superstitious man...

  He spun the wheel back and forth, hoping to shake her, but she didn’t even look phased. There had to be some way to get her to let go. His eyes flicked to the mirror and a sly smile passed his lips.

  He shifted the vehicle into reverse and throttled the engine.

  The grav truck shot backward like a rocket, aided by the girl’s strange pull. She only barely managed to dive out of the way in time. “Ha. Too smart for you, girl!” he said, pumping his fist. He’d just keep going this way and then turn around at the end of the street—

  But the truck jerked to a stop once more. Now in front of him, the girl had gotten a hold of the truck again.

  “Oh come on!” he shouted.

  Suddenly he was flying backward again. The girl had ripped the front bumper clean off. She smiled and gave him a wink. Then the bumper was flying at him end first like a spear. He squeezed his eyes shut, half expecting to get skewered like a Lexter kabob.

  The bumper sliced into the engine compartment, killing his truck for good. As the grav plate gave out, it dropped to the ground with a sickening crunch.

  Lexter stumbled out of the truck, smoke billowing behind him. He coughed and backed away before falling to the ground.

  Then an invisible hand lifted him to his feet. He winced as he stopped a meter from the girl. She had an insufferably smug grin on her face. Had she actually enjoyed this?

  “You have something that doesn’t belong to you,” she said, holding out a hand.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied. It was pretty lame as lies go, but he was running out of options.

  She spun him upside down and started shaking him like a toy. “Wait, wait! You mean this journal. Fine. Just don’t...” He was going to be sick. No, he already was sick. The girl set him down gently as he lost his dinner on the sidewalk in the least dignified way.

  Mercifully, she gave him a minute.

  But only a minute. “Give me the journal,” she said.

  He reached into his pocket and passed her the tome.

  “See that wasn’t so hard.” She picked him up again with that strange power and carried him before her like some sort of prize. He groaned aloud.

  “I agree,” she said, as if she could read his mind. “That was really dumb.”

  “YOU KNOW, ABIGAIL, I think you’re going soft.”

  Abigail glanced at Matthew as they pushed their bikes onto the lift that led into the Sparrow’s main hold. She rapped a metal knuckle on her armored forearm. The metal knock rang through the night. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Hard as steel.”

  Matthew hit the button to raise the lift and removed his campero to wipe his forehead.

  From behind her, Grace laughed. “That wasn’t what he meant, and you know it.

  Matthew smiled. “It took you quite a bit of effort to keep the yakuza from killing Miyoshi for that stunt he pulled.”

  Abigail shrugged. “Lexter’s an old acquaintance. You can’t trust him, but you won’t find a better fixer in Kyoto. He may be useful in the future.”

  The lift came to a halt and they parked their bikes against the far wall of the hold. “Fixers don’t last long when they scam their customers,” he said. “He must really think that journal has valuable information in it.”

  “
We did pay twenty thousand for it.”

  “Twenty thousand of Whitaker’s money,” Grace said.

  Matthew scowled at that. “I doubt Miyoshi would have been able to find another buyer for it. It would take a niche customer, I think. He would have had a worthless score on his hands.”

  Abigail nodded. It had been a useless con. The yakuza had agreed to spare Lexter’s life, but she wouldn’t be particularly surprised if they went back on that deal as soon as she left Mars. It was a lot harder to keep the local criminal groups properly afraid of the Shield Maiden of Mars now that she wasn’t here all that often. “Well, hopefully, it’s worth it to us. Let’s go see if there’s anything useful in that book.”

  They climbed the ladder onto the main deck of the Sparrow and walked into the common room. Davey jumped up from his position on the couch the moment they entered. He’d been annoyed that he hadn’t been allowed to go on this one, but the yakuza had been pretty explicit on only allowing three crew members. Matthew, unsurprisingly, chose the bulletproof ones.

  “Did you get it?” Davey asked.

  Matthew showed him the journal. “Haven’t had a chance to look at it yet.”

  “It’s about time we got a lead,” Grace said. “It will make the treasure hunt more fun.”

  “This isn’t a treasure hunt,” Matthew said, sternly. “It’s a waste of time. Odds of us finding any more pieces of the eleventh miracle are so low it’s a joke.”

  He was always grumpy whenever the Anemoi was brought up. It had been nearly a year since Whitaker had given them a quarter of the fabled eleventh miracle. A piece of the Four Winds, the Anemoi, it was a compass that led to... somewhere supposedly. Whitaker had given them one of his two pieces as an incentive to help him look for the rest. As much as Matthew acted like he wasn’t interested, he ended up exhausting all his sources to find the things. But it turned out, it was one of Abigail’s contacts that finally found something. When Lexter gave them the call a few weeks back, she wasn’t surprised. He had a tendency to come through when you needed him. The price the yakuza demanded had been demoralizing, but Whitaker stepped in to cover it himself.