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There it was again, my other life. I was standing in the cargo hold of a Crusader C1 Spirit in gray-blue Crusader Industries uniforms. When I resigned from Crusader Industries, the manager of the research, development and logistics department had announced that he would involve me in special assignments from time to time. I hadn’t really expected it, but now the time had come. He had a special assignment for me. His words still echoed in my ears.

“I’m afraid I have a black sheep in my ranks. That’s why I need someone from outside for this transportation job. Someone with their skills. It has to look normal and official on the outside. You will be traveling under the flag of Crusader Industries. Service uniform, service ship, as always with our couriers. Just like you know it from your service days.”

With a groan, I looked around the cargo hold. It felt as if I had never left the service. The words Crusader Industries were emblazoned on the wall. At the front end was a Mule ground vehicle designed for transporting crates. In front of it were several cargo containers that I was to deliver en route to the orbital station Port Tressler. It was fascinating to see how much space there was in the cargo hold of the small Spirit. The fridge in the living area behind the cockpit was also filled with fruit and drinks. It looked like a pleasant trip. If it hadn’t been for the unknown. What did I have to get on the planet Microtech? And why did Crusader Industries need someone from outside? And what did the manager mean by a black sheep? I thought back to the mysterious special transport I had done for Crusader Industries a long time ago.

The seat cover creaked softly as I sat down in the pilot’s seat. With a click, I flipped a few switches, then the engines roared to life. The thrust pushed me deep into the seat as I left the cloud city and ascended into the pink clouds of the gas giant Crusader.

*

After dropping off the cargo containers at Port Tressler, I flew to the surface of the planet Microtech. My destination was a distribution center. I was to pick up whatever it was there. A thick blanket of clouds covered the surface. The Spirit plunged into the white absorbent cotton mountains. Drops of water ran in small rivulets over the cockpit window. There was nothing to see but an absolutely pure white.

Suddenly I pushed through the lower cloud line and saw the gigantic Distribution Center complex in front of me. A tall, narrow central building that towered over everything in the middle like the bridge of a capital ship. It was flanked by cargo areas, industrial facilities and landing pads. Flight control assigned me to a hangar.

After landing, I took the elevator to the lobby. The inside of the facility was as gigantic and impressive as the outside. No ostentatious splendor, but still a noble construction of bare, sloping concrete walls. From the upper level, I had a good view of the spacious and partly glass-roofed lobby.

On the upper level was the post box from which I was to collect the parcel. I typed in the code and pressed collect. A red X appeared on the screen, accompanied by a buzzing sound that clearly indicated an error. A second attempt produced the same result.

Annoyed, I looked around. There was no one to be seen. There was no one at reception either. That was going well. But I didn’t want to leave without having done anything, so I wrote a message to the manager at Crusader Industries. Just a few seconds later, my mobile glass vibrated. The manager’s reply arrived pretty damn quickly.

Zero, something’s wrong. Get out of here now. But stay on standby nearby. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.

The message felt like an ice bucket being tipped down my neck. Without thinking twice, I ran to the elevator. My footsteps echoed loudly off the bare concrete walls. I looked around nervously. Why did I feel like I was walking into a trap?

When the elevator spit me out in the Hagar, there were 50 meters between me and my spaceship. The large hangar doors on the ceiling were closed. At first I hesitated, then I ran. I had no other choice, I had to try.

Breathing loudly, I reached the Spirit and dropped into the pilot’s chair. The engines roared to life and when my breathing slowed down a little, I asked for clearance to take off. Several long seconds passed. Then there was a loud bang. The hangar doors opened with a great roar.

The Distribution Center quickly became smaller behind me. I was only vaguely aware of the landscape racing past a few meters below me. I landed in a wooded area and hid the Spirit between the trees.

Now all I could do was wait. Chewing an apple, I sat on the bed and scrolled through my inbox. No new messages from the manager. Then I came across a message from Kjeld. He had invited me to Grim Hex for the HEX THE STOUT party in the old 38 bar. Damn, the party was tonight. I thought about it for a moment, but I couldn’t leave. The manager had told me to be on standby. With a slight hint of disappointment, I took off my shoes and lay down on the bed.

*

The vibration of the Mobiglass woke me from my sleep. It was already dark. All I could see through the cockpit window was blackness. With tired eyes, I looked at the manager’s message. It contained the location of a security compound near the distribution center. I was to collect the parcel there immediately.

The whole thing was really strange. First I was supposed to pick up the package at the Distribution Center, but it wasn’t there. Now in a night and fog operation at buildings a little outside. What was going on here? And what was so important in the parcel?

A few minutes later, the Spirit touched down in the dark at the Security Compound. The compound was only dimly lit. A two-storey building, several large tanks and a storage area with shelves. The whole thing was surrounded by a fence. Above the entrance was a bridge with a machine gun. At first glance, it looked like a heavily guarded high-security area. However, the facility was deserted. Not a soul was to be seen.

I walked slowly through the entrance area and looked around carefully. Monitors were in operation at the tanks and there were containers everywhere. It didn’t look as if the plant had been shut down. Nevertheless, there was an eerie silence over everything. Somehow the whole thing seemed strange to me. My hand went to my hip and into space. Shit, I didn’t have a weapon with me.

Without meaning to, my steps quickened. I walked briskly towards the campsite. Past a man-high yellow concrete barrier with black markings indicating the direction of travel. The steel shelves were almost all empty. There was a crate in one of the back ones, my crate. Once again, I glanced around the facility. Everything still looked quiet and deserted. Then I took the crate and walked back to my spaceship as quickly as the weight of the crate would allow. I kept glancing over my shoulder.

When the loading ramp finally closed behind me, I placed the crate in the hold, relieved. I didn’t want to stay here for a second longer. As soon as I sat in the pilot’s seat, the Spirit thundered towards the starry night sky with everything the engines had to offer.

After arriving in the cloud city of Orison, on the gas giant Crusader, I took the crate to the specified destination. Just like the mysterious delivery back then, the destination was Cousin Crow’s Custom Craft on the Providence platform.

That same evening, I received a message from the manager.

Please stay in Orison. I may need you again. A room has been reserved for you at the Greencircle.

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