by Ben Wolf
[Don’t get yourself killed. That ain’t a part of your plan.]
“Neither was getting bulldozed by a giant purple dude, but here we are,” Justin muttered.
As the group of people—folks from Nidus City, Justin guessed—lined up beside him, he noticed a man approaching. He wore a dressier type of ACM uniform compared to the armor the soldiers had on, and he had rich brown skin and gray hair.
Admiral Sever.
Great.
Altogether, there were about twelve men and women lined up along with Justin. Admiral Sever stood before them, looking each of them up and down, studying them like a predator examining its prey.
Justin ignored the intimidation tactic and instead focused on Admiral Sever’s hands and arms. How much of him was prosthetic? With his gloves back on and long sleeves, it would be hard to tell.
Admiral Sever consulted with one of the ACM soldiers, who pointed at the various people lined up with Justin. Then Admiral Sever turned and faced one of the men in nicer clothing.
“I am told you are a person of some importance on this ship,” he said. “I have a few questions for you.”
The man’s face hardened with anger. “I won’t tell you anything.”
“I think you’ll find that it is far better for you to cooperate than to be obstinate.”
“Fuck you,” the man spat.
Admiral Sever didn’t move for a moment. He just stood there, staring at the man, studying him. Then he pulled off his gloves, exposing his metal hands. His right hand split apart as it had before, and the plasma cannon inside emerged.
He raised it to the man’s head and fired.
The blast sheared the top of the man’s head clean off, just above his eyebrows. He went wide-eyed, his jaw slackened, and he crumpled to the floor, very dead.
[Oh, shit. This thug ain’t playin’.]
Justin’s heart shuddered. Playing up his usual smartass nature would just get him killed. He’d have to approach this differently—and more carefully.
Admiral Sever’s hand clamped shut, concealing the plasma cannon once again.
He moved two people down the line, closer to Justin. Now he stood in front of a middle-aged woman, whose face and clothes were dirty. She was a good fifty pounds overweight and had brown hair.
“And you, my dear,” he said. “Are you more willing to help?”
She nodded, and tears streaked down her cheeks, through the grime.
“What’s your name?”
“Jeroma,” she replied with a slight lisp. “Please… I’ve got five kids.”
“Cooperate, and you’ll see them again.”
“I… I don’t know anything.”
“Not exactly starting out on the right foot, are you?” Admiral Sever shook his head. “You were caught while trying to resist our troops. You wanted to keep them from searching your house. Why would you do such a thing? What are you hiding?”
“I-I’m not hiding anything. I just…” She whimpered, and her whole body quaked.
“You what?” Admiral Sever leaned in closer.
“I just didn’t want them there. It’s not right.” Her voice hinted at indignation. “You don’t have the right.”
Admiral Sever nodded. “‘Might is right.’ You know the ancient saying, don’t you?”
“That’s not… you can’t…”
“I can, and I did. And I will continue to do so.” Admiral Sever held up his right hand, but it didn’t open up. It remained a cold metal hand instead.
“Oh, no… please don’t!”
“Are you hiding something for the scientists?” Admiral Sever asked.
“What? No.” She shook her head, resolute. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know any scientists.”
“You’re certain? No one contacted you and asked you to conceal something for them?”
She nodded. “Positive.”
“Because we will tear your home apart at even the slightest suspicion that you’re lying. And your family will suffer the most for your dishonesty here today.”
“No… no! I swear, we haven’t done anything like that. We’ve got nothing to hide,” she pleaded. “Please don’t hurt my children. We’re just trying to get to a new world, to get a new start.”
Admiral Sever nodded. “If you don’t have it, then you’re of no use to me.”
His hand opened up again, and the plasma cannon blew a hole through the woman’s chest. She slumped to the docking bay floor, just as dead as the man missing the top half of his head.
Justin considered making a run for it. Staying here and getting killed wasn’t what he’d planned—not by a long shot. But failing to escape—which he most certainly would—and getting killed anyway wasn’t part of his plan, either.
“Run identity checks on the rest of them,” Admiral Sever said. “I want to know who they are and what interactions they’ve had with the Coalition and Farcoast over the last three years.”
“Produce your identification,” one of the soldiers said as several of them approached. Two of them produced handscreens and tapped at them.
Justin frowned. He’d been through this already when ACM first arrived. But now that they were checking histories with Farcoast, Justin’s work experience with them might show up.
While the scanning began, Admiral Sever walked over to the big guy and initiated a conversation with him. They spoke in hushed tones, and the big guy nodded at Justin. Then Admiral Sever started toward him.
[Shit.]
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Justin murmured.
“You there.” Admiral Sever pointed at Justin with his metal hand.
Justin had to force himself not to flinch.
“Come here.”
“Do I have to?” Justin asked. He regretted it immediately.
“You saw the alternative, didn’t you?” Admiral Sever motioned toward the dead man and woman on the docking bay floor.
Justin started toward Admiral Sever. He wondered if it would be worth it to brandish his energy sword and cut him down right then and there.
“Wait, Admiral.” The big guy stepped between them and held out his gigantic right hand. “Take the modification cartridges out of your arm and hand them over.”
Justin hesitated. Without them, he’d be defenseless except for his arm’s enhanced strength.
“Do it now, or I will remove the entire arm,” the big guy warned.
[Better do it, JB.]
Justin cursed under his breath. He held out his arm and popped open a chamber on the back of his hand. He disconnected the stun gun mod from there. From his wrist, he pulled out the energy sword mod, and he removed the purdonic resistance shield emitter from his forearm. He dropped them all into the big guy’s hand.
“You’re sure that’s all of them?” the big guy asked.
For good measure, Justin popped open the three other mod spots along his arm—one just above his elbow, another in his metal biceps, and a third in his shoulder. They were all empty. He hadn’t ever gotten mods for those.
The big guy turned to Admiral Sever. “You may proceed, Admiral.”
“Thank you, Vesh,” Admiral Sever said.
[What the hell kind of name is “Vesh?”]
“What the hell kind of name is ‘Keontae?’” Justin muttered back.
[It’s a family name. Don’t be racist.]
“Did you say something?” Admiral Sever asked.
Justin shook his head. “Just talking to myself.”
Admiral Sever fingered the seared edge of Justin’s shirt. “Vesh tells me you were quite troublesome to capture. More importantly, he tells me he saw video of you with a certain young lady at breakfast this morning. What can you tell me about her?”
[Shit. Careful, JB.]
“Her name is Hallie. We met yesterday morning while we were both out for a walk. I invited her to breakfast,” Justin said. So far, it was all true. “We had a good time, so we were gonna meet up again tonight, but then you
guys showed up and tanked that idea.”
Admiral Sever grinned. “A poet once said that life tends to happen while you’re busy making other plans.”
“I wouldn’t call what you’re doing here ‘life.’” Justin glanced at the dead man and the dead woman still lying on the floor. “Seems like the exact opposite.”
“I am doing what must be done in order to fulfill my mandate,” Admiral Sever said. “And now I’d like to hear from you where I can find this ‘Hallie’ person.”
“Why?”
“That is none of your concern.”
“It is if you’re gonna kill her.”
“As I said, that is none of your concern,” Admiral Sever insisted. “Surely you’ve seen how these conversations go in movies. You resist telling me, and then I torture you. Eventually you do tell me, and then I kill you anyway. But there is good news, Mr.—?”
“Barclay. Justin Barclay.”
“Mr. Barclay,” Admiral Sever repeated. “The good news is that I will guarantee you a swift, clean end if you cooperate. I’d offer more, but that’s the best you will get, given your situation, so help me and die quickly, or resist and die very slowly and very painfully.”
Justin’s heartbeat accelerated. This wasn’t what he’d wanted. He couldn’t die now. Too much hinged on him staying alive. “Not much of a choice.”
“In this galaxy, choice is an illusion for all but the highest echelon of the wealthy and powerful,” Admiral Sever said. “The only choices you have are the ones that other people give to you.”
Justin kept quiet. Hallie and Captain Marlowe hadn’t told him where they were going on purpose. That way, if ACM tried to force it out of him, he wouldn’t be able to tell them anything. All things considered, he’d hoped to avoid being tortured, though.
“I don’t know where she is,” Justin said. “And that’s the truth.”
“Then I suppose you’ve bought yourself a few more hours, Mr. Barclay,” Admiral Sever said. “Although by the end of them, you will wish you hadn’t.”
“I’m telling you the truth,” Justin insisted.
“Even if you are, I obviously can’t trust you. But I can trust that your pain will make honest men of us both.”
Admiral Sever turned away, and Vesh started toward Justin again, who backed up.
“Wait!” Justin called.
Admiral Sever turned around, and Vesh stopped his advance.
“I don’t know where she is,” he said, “but I know something else that’s of value. To Andridge on the whole.”
Admiral Sever approached Justin again. “And what would that be?”
Justin smirked. “I know what really happened to Carl Andridge at ACM-1134.”
[What the hell, JB? Why would you throw yourself under the hoverbus like this?]
Admiral Sever squinted at Justin. “And what, exactly, happened to him?”
Justin shook his head. “No way I’m telling you. You gotta take me back to the core planets. To ACM headquarters. I’ll tell them.”
A new grin spread across Admiral Sever’s face. “A valiant attempt, to be sure, but I will decline. High marks for creativity, though.”
Again, Admiral Sever turned away.
“You know I know the truth,” Justin called. “It wasn’t made public that Carl Andridge died on Ketarus-4. So how would I know that?”
Admiral Sever stopped, and once more, he turned back to face Justin. “Perhaps you have good connections and, thus, good intel.”
Justin shook his head. “To be frank, I suck at networking. I’d rather dig or drill all day. No, the reason I know is because I was there. I survived ACM-1134.”
Admiral Sever looked Justin up and down, wearing a mask of incredulity.
“If you don’t believe me, look me up. Scan my ID, and do your illegal deep-dive into my past.”
“We will. And I can assure you that if you are anything less than who you claim to be, your death will be the longest, most agonizing experience that any man in history has ever endured.”
“Deal,” Justin said.
Admiral Sever motioned for one of the ACM soldiers with a handscreen to come over and look into Justin’s past. The soldier scanned his virtual ID badge with the handscreen. After a few moments of tapping, the soldier looked up.
“Well?” Admiral Sever asked.
The soldier flipped his handscreen around. “He’s right. He’s one of only two survivors of the incident at ACM-1134 on Ketarus-4. Says here he’s a person of interest to Andridge corporate, and we are to detain him if possible for further questioning.”
Being a person of interest to Andridge corporate wasn’t news to Justin, but being wanted for further questioning surprised him. ACM had asked their questions and let him go with a symphony of warnings, but now they wanted him back? Why?
Admiral Sever examined the screen and then looked at Vesh again. “Send him over to the Avarice. Have them lock him in a cell and question him about the woman scientist. When we’re done here, we’ll take him back to Andridge corporate and let them question him all they want.”
[Shit, JB. I can’t believe that worked.]
Justin hardly believed it, either.
Then Vesh grabbed Justin by his triceps, and his long, thick fingers wrapped all the way around to his biceps. Justin felt like an unruly child being escorted out of a restaurant as Vesh hauled him over to one of the ACM transport ships.
But hey… at least he wasn’t dead.
When Justin arrived aboard the Avarice, he didn’t see much of it. The transport ship had docked in the Avarice’s version of a docking bay, which was considerably smaller than that of the Nidus, yet still huge overall. They were both gigantic ships, after all.
Vesh had stayed aboard the Nidus with Admiral Sever, and as far as Justin knew, he’d held onto Justin’s arm mods as well. A handful of nameless, faceless ACM soldiers had escorted Justin to the Avarice. Now they escorted him through the ship’s clean, yet narrow corridors toward, he presumed, the Avarice’s brig.
He tried to pay attention to his route from the docking bay to the brig, but they made a bunch of turns and went down multiple gravity lifts—he’d never be able to remember it all.
They ended up in a wide room that resembled the waiting room of a doctor’s office, only it had a dark, oppressive feel to it. Justin had never been in prison, but he’d certainly been arrested and “detained” before, both on his home planet growing up and elsewhere. He knew the heavy, despairing feel of jail cells, and this place felt like that, only worse.
A pane of what he guessed was reinforced two-way glass served as the back wall, all except for a doorframe with a glowing red energy field instead of a door. It looked like a gateway to Hell itself.
The soldiers passed him off to a pair of guards not wearing face shields or armor. Instead, they wore medium-blue-colored fabric uniforms, tactical belts, and frowns. They deactivated the glowing red energy field and led him into the brig’s processing area.
While one guard supervised with a stun baton, crackling with arcs of purple energy, in hand, the other booked him in the system, including taking fingerprints from his human hand, scanning his eyes, and swabbing his mouth for DNA.
Then they made him strip down to his underwear and sent him through a full-body scanner, which was only half as humiliating as when they patted him down afterward anyway.
[Welcome to my world,] Keontae said. [Cops done that shit—and worse—to me more times than I can remember, whether I was guilty or not.]
Satisfied that Justin had no contraband or weapons jammed into any of his orifices, they let him dress in his own clothes again and escorted him through another red energy field and into the cellblock.
The term “cellblock” wasn’t wholly accurate. There was a small common area with some Plastrex benches and rounded Plastrex tables bolted to the floor, and… that was pretty much it. A few people milled about, but otherwise, there wasn’t much else to see. Then again, it was the middle of the night
in Coalition time, so perhaps everyone was asleep.
At chest height, hexagon-shaped panes of dark-blue glass marked the walls at consistent intervals all the way around the common area. Justin had no clue what they were for until he saw one of them open.
A man crawled out, bare feet first, and landed on the floor about a yard below. Behind him, in the hexagon, lay a small pillow and some orange light, but nothing else.
Sleeping pods? That would account for why Justin couldn’t see any beds or cells anywhere—there weren’t any. Prisoners just hopped in a hexpod, and that was their own private space, cramped as it was. Made the most of the available brig space, for sure.
Good thing Justin only had a fear of heights and not claustrophobia.
“Sleep with your boots on,” a man’s voice said.
Justin blinked out of his thoughts and back into the brig. The barefoot guy who’d just climbed out of his hexpod was staring at Justin—specifically at his feet, with a longing look in his deep-blue eyes. He had a few days’ worth of gray stubble collecting on his chin and jaw, almost as long as his gray buzz-cut hair.
Probably mid-fifties or older, Justin guessed, by the wrinkles on his face. He wore a plain blue jumpsuit that matched the color of his eyes, and it had a faint reflective quality to it. Whenever the light shined on it, the fabric almost shimmered.
“Socks, too,” the man said. “Anything you part with in here tends to grow legs and disappear.”
“I’ll keep it in mind,” Justin said. “Thanks.”
[So those pods are all you get, huh?] Keontae said. [I can just imagine the ship designers tryin’ to cut corners and save on costs, and this is the shit they came up with. Meanwhile, they’re probably livin’ in penthouse apartments on New Germania-7 or some other rich-ass planet with plenty of space.]
Keontae was probably spot-on, but it didn’t matter much at the moment. Just another of the galaxy’s endless injustices.
“Uh…” Justin gingerly rubbed the lump on his forehead. It still hurt, but the swelling had gone down. “How does this work? Do I just… pick one?”
“Simple as that. One of the open ones. Once you’re inside, it’ll sync to your biometrics, and it’s yours ’til they find a reason to reset it.”
