Altered Destiny

by Trevor Gregg

  Searching through the garments, he was having trouble finding something human-appropriate. No, that jacket had sleeves for three arms. And those pants were actually just a single leg. Searching for something vaguely humanoid, he came across a long jacket. He donned it, zipping up rapidly. Duster-styled, it covered much of his legs. Alis shrugged into a layered jumpsuit as Tharox put on a puffy vest.

  The puffy lime green vest looked absurd, Tharox’s burly robot arms and mechanically menacing stare poking out from a neon pillow. Kyren stifled a laugh, but not before Tharox caught him. He knew his face gave him away. Tharox’s expression was unreadable.

  “I have paid the vendor, let us go,” Elarra said, voice muffled by the scarf now wrapped around her mouth and nose.

  This time Kyren couldn’t suppress his laughter. She looked like a marshmallow. Every inch of her was covered, leaving only her eyes.

  “What!?” she said to Kyren as a challenge, her eyes darkening with anger.

  “Never mind,” he replied, stifling another giggle.

  She led them into the frigid night air. Kyren was amazed at how cold the night had become, but then he had to remember he was at great altitude, a plateau ten-thousand feet tall, as Alis had explained. The city had sprung up around the transportation terminal at the base of the space elevator, a mismatched collection of ramshackle corrugated steel buildings and multi-storied brick tenements.

  “Excuse me, can I ask you a question?” Kyren said, stepping in front of a strange blue-scaled humanoid that had been walking past.

  “Out of my way, humie!” he snarled, shoving Kyren to the frigid pavement.

  “Ow, maybe that didn’t go as planned,” he said, standing despite his embarrassment. He examined his skinned palms and responded, “here goes another try.”

  This time he didn’t try to stop the slug-like creature sliming its’ way past him, he just started waving his arms.

  “What do you want, human?” it sputtered through a mucus filled orifice, trickles spraying Kyren.

  He instantly regretted stopping the creature. Oh well, better see what I can find out, I’m already sprayed, he thought.

  “So we’re looking for some really old, really rare tech. Can you tell me where to find the best tech dealer in the market?”

  “Hmmm, yes. I think I can, but let me think… was it Chavo’s, or Gresback’s? Oh yes, it was one of those two, I don’t remember which. They were both fine establishments. Yes, they were, I…”

  “Thank you, thank you very much,” Kyren interrupted, attempting to cease the accumulation of slime.

  He turned back to the others and informed them of the two establishments the strange creature had suggested, while wiping his face. Asking a few vendors, they soon found directions to the first mentioned, Chavo’s.

  After a brisk walk, they turned down a dead-end alley and faced a rusted metal door at the end. “RELICS” flickered on the holopanel above the door, phasing in and out almost rhythmically.

  “I should do the talking, okay? I know the most about tech, so let me handle this,” Alis said seriously. “If I need you to step in, cowboy, I’ll twitch my left ear like so.” She twitched her left ear at Kyren.

  “Okay, you handle it,” Kyren said placatingly.

  They entered the shop, door creaking on rusty hinges. It was nearly as cold inside as it was outside. In fact, he had to admit it felt colder in here than outside. Distracted by the cold, he almost bumped into a shelf full of delicate looking doodads. Alis gave him a dark look as he mouthed “oops.”

  He navigated the narrow shelves full of miscellaneous tech, none of which he could identify. He guessed Alis could identify most of it. In fact, he realized she would have to be exercising serious willpower to avoid stopping and ogling over random devices and miscellaneous contraptions. She squeezed her way past several swaddled patrons and made for the seller at the rear of the establishment.

  The merchant was clad in merely a loincloth, his glistening jet-black skin covering a muscular frame. A bald head and six-inch long pointed ears gave the being a wicked look. As they approached, Kyren understood why the shop was so cold.

  The creature radiated heat. The warmth was downright intoxicating, like sitting in front of a roaring fire, as hot as the apartment fire he had witnessed as a child in Dust Quarter. Yet the creature, as far as he could tell, wasn’t combusting. A wide grin revealed bright white teeth.

  “Welcome, welcome to my establishment, offworlders,” the alien said. “My name is Shoktar, I’m the proprietor of this establishment. I must apologize for the cold. My kind simply cannot survive warmer temperatures. Come, do not be embarrassed, you may stand near me, I share my heat willingly.”

  “Well, we are looking for some pretty sweet tech, some really ancient relics of the time before the millennium wars,” Alis began. “Do you have the ability to locate what we seek?”

  “Hmmm, let me see. I’m sorry, I do not, because you have not informed me what you seek.”

  “We’re looking for ancient relics, can you get them, or not?” she pressed.

  “Yes, I have access to some relics, I do. What is it that you seek? Ask and I will answer.”

  “Okay, we’re looking for some katerwans,”

  Shoktar’s eyes narrowed and Kyren watched his pupils contract.

  “I see, that is indeed ancient relics that you seek. Alas I have no katerwans. Perhaps my life would be better, had I them. At least my chipscan would be better off for it, I know. Aid I will offer, though. Seek Gresback of Gresback’s Wares, tell him Shoktar sent you. I think he may be able to assist.”

  “See, we’re making progress,” Alis decried.

  Following Shoktar’s directions, they set out for the other shop.

  “Does anyone else think we’re in the wrong part of town?” Tharox queried, after some time, as he looked around the empty street they had just turned down.

  Kyren began to turn around when a hand clamped firmly onto the scruff of his jacket. He was whirled around into a waiting fist, stars blooming in his vision and his ears ringing as he hit the pavement.

  Stunned, he could only listen in despair. Alis shrieked.

  “Leave her alone!” he heard Elarra’s tiny child’s voice, quavering with rage.

  There was a whump that was felt, more than heard. He saw Tharox hit the ground next to him twitching, blue sparks running through the circuitry on his bionic arms and legs. He felt the air warm around him as footsteps approached.

  “Dammit let… me… go…” he heard Alis say, her voice strained by her struggle. “No, that’s my wrench!”

  “Ow! Shit, she bit me! The bitch bit me!” a burbling voice cried out. “Hey, I’ve never tried rillian before. Boss, can we have a go at her?”

  “I don’t see why not,” Shoktar’s smooth voice replied, his warmth flooding Kyren with rage.

  39

  Hubbell

  3Kyren knew he would never reach his gun, buried under his heavy overcoat. Dammit, he should have put the gun in his pocket, maybe then he’d have a chance, he thought. It didn’t matter, though. He still had to do something. He wouldn’t let these thugs lay a hand on Alis, not while he still breathed.

  His head had cleared and was now filled with rage. He reached out and grabbed the leg of the goon who had struck him. Predictably, the thug raised his leg, drawing it away from Kyren’s grasp. Then Kyren struck, surging up and forward, driving his elbow into the back of the brute’s other knee.

  The creature went crashing to the ground and Kyren wasted no time, scrambling for the pistol the humanoid held. His hand closed around the creature’s wrist and he wrenched as he drove his elbow into the goon again, this time the back of its’ elbow. He levered the arm as his elbow struck, and the arm bent the wrong way, accompanied by a gruesome crack.

  The alien’s pistol fell to the pavement and Kyren made to scoop it up as he was standing. The other assailants were now reacting, raising pistols at Kyren.

  “Wait. Let him try f
or it, won’t you. Stand down boys,” Shoktar said languidly.

  The others lowered their pistols with obvious reluctance, but none put them away.

  “We can do this the easy way. Or it can be the hard way. Or the very hard way, if you are truly uncooperative. Go ahead, make your choice, kid. Or go for the gun and see what happens. I truly do not care,” Shoktar said haughtily. “One way or another, you’ll give me your valuables. I’m no butcher though, you hand over everything and you’ll live.”

  Kyren stood, hands out at his sides. The alien he had been grappling with stood and clutched its’ backward arm, moaning in pain. Its’ skin was the color of baby poop, but otherwise looked nearly human. Except the nostrils, they were vertical slits, instead of circular. And the ears looked like they were upside down.

  Apparently immune to the cold as well, the leather-clad humanoid scooped up its’ fallen pistol and took several steps away from Kyren.

  “Can I waste him boss? He’s just a punk, no one will care,” poop-skin said.

  “No, we are not butchers, as I said. What we do want are your valuables, so hand them over, and do it promptly. Delay will not save you, no help is coming. This city has no law, no order. We are truly free here. You came to my shop ready to purchase not just a single one, but multiple katerwans. Where’s your chipscan?!”

  “Here,” Elarra said, extracting it from her pocket.

  She dropped the small card to the pavement, hand trembling obviously.

  “Get the card, then shoot them all. But do it humanely.”

  Kyren saw a tall, ebony-skinned woman with a short gray afro step around the corner behind Shoktar. Wielding a sleek, deep purple energy rifle by the barrel like a club, she wound up and swung. Shoktar saw Kyren’s eyes betray the woman’s presence and tried to dodge, but it was already too late.

  The bulk of the gun impacted with the side of his head, sending him tumbling. Then, fast as lighting she reversed her swing and flipped the gun into the air, catching it at half-rotation and snapping it to her shoulder, hand coming to rest on the grip. She fired three shots in rapid succession, each one dropping one of the goons in turn before they could react. Kyren stood stunned.

  “Um, who are you? I mean, thanks for saving us and all. But why?” Kyren managed to stammer.

  “You can call me Hubbell, you’re welcome, and it’s complicated,” she replied wryly, as she bent to each of the fallen thugs, rifling through their pockets, extracting trinkets and chipscans, discarding the junk and keeping the valuables.

  Kyren watched as Alis knelt by Tharox. “Hey, are you okay?” she said, poking his head with one finger.

  “Grrrr… stop that. If I could control my limbs I’d… oh hell, can you at least prop me up until my nanites can regenerate my arms and legs,” Tharox grumbled.

  Kyren and Alis dragged him over to the wall and propped him up.

  “We probably shouldn’t linger here. Just ‘cause these creeps are dead doesn’t mean there’s not more around the corner. I’ve got a small apartment not far from here, it’ll be safer to talk there,” Hubbell suggested.

  “What about Tharox?” Elarra asked.

  “How long till you come back on line?” Elarra asked.

  “Not long,” he replied, already twitching his fingers.

  While they waited, Kyren examined the looted weapons. Hubbell had claimed one of the pistols, an energy blaster, and tucked it into the belt of her black cargo pants. The remaining pistols were slug throwers, clunky and beat up. They didn’t seem any more lethal or accurate than the one he already had, but he tucked them into his pockets anyway. There was a small knife and a stout club, which he confiscated too.

  There was a strange apparatus, with handles on two sides and a small dish in between. This must’ve been what incapacitated Tharox, he thought. The device was small enough to fit into his pockets so he stuffed it in as well.

  “C’mon big guy, we’ve got to get movin’,” Hubbell urged.

  She slung her rifle on her back as she approached Tharox. Extending a hand to Tharox, Kyren realized Hubbell had one bionic arm. Dull metal, the arm was far sleeker and more realistic than Tharox’s robotic limbs, sans the servos and struts. He probably wouldn’t even have noticed it, except the jacket Hubbell was wearing was missing a sleeve.

  Tharox’s servos whined and his joints made a ratcheting sound as he accepted Hubbell’s outstretched hand and rose to his feet.

  “I hate EMP, that is so humiliating,” Tharox grumbled, stretching his limbs and testing his joints.

  Hubbell struck out without a word, not looking back. Kyren exchanged a look with Alis.

  She shrugged, so he turned to Elarra, “What do you say, Elarra? Should we follow?”

  “Yes, I think we should. She could have robbed us herself, or even gunned us down, yet she did not. I suggest we listen to what she has to offer.”

  Kyren trotted to catch up to Hubbell, matching her pace.

  “What’s your names?” she said as they walked.

  He introduced himself and the others. It only took a few minutes to reach Hubbell’s apartment. It was a small one-room unit, about ten feet wide and twenty long. It was sparsely furnished, not many personal effects. It looked almost as if no one lived there.

  Hubbell motioned to the small couch, chair, and bed, so they sat.

  Pacing back and forth, she began “First off, you’re lucky I was interested in you. You made quite an impression asking for something like a katerwan.”

  “Okay, so maybe we should have been more subtle,” Kyren admitted.

  “Would’ve been wise,” Hubbell agreed. “Secondly, I’m hoping you’d be open to a business proposition.”

  She paused, seemingly waiting for a reaction. Finally, Elarra spoke, “so you have a way to get some katerwans, I am assuming?”

  “Yes, I know where there might be some.”

  “What do you mean might?” Kyren asked.

  “Well, you see, I’m a relic hunter. I seek out technological relics from the Millennium Wars and before. When I say might, I mean I know of a location where there are relics, but I don’t know for sure if there are katerwans there,” Hubbell explained, pausing to let it sink in.

  “Let me ask the obvious question,” Kyren responded. “If you know the location of these relics, why don’t you go get them yourself?”

  Hubbell continued after a short pause, “Maybe you’re not as naive as I thought, kid. You’re right, there’s a reason, I’ll explain. Deep in the Boneyard lies an ancient Consortium space station. I’ve never been to it, but it is supposed to be intact. However, it is rated for class five defenses.”

  “What does that mean?” Alis asked.

  “It means the security systems are likely still active,” Hubbell admitted. “And class five means they are quite deadly, fully armed security bots.”

  “So you want us to help you get in this place? In exchange for katerwans, if we even find them?” Kyren proposed.

  “You’ve got the gist, kid,” Hubbell affirmed.

  40

  The Mantis

  Alis and the others had taken the space elevator back to the station and then boarded Hubbell’s ship, the Mantis. Upon approach, Alis had seen it from the windows. It was a large, nearly spherical craft that sported a pair of bat wings and large engine pods. An obvious weapons turret sat on top, resting upon a swiveling base. Its’ dark skin indicated substantial armoring. Maybe not dramatically impressive, but Alis was excited nonetheless.

  “So what’s this place, then?” Alis asked. She was impressed by Hubbell so far and hoped the woman would play straight with them. Her ship was interesting, at the very least. The interior was not spacious, but wasn’t cramped either. There were eight seats spaced around the large central bridge chamber, a spherical room lined by one massive three hundred and sixty degree viewscreen.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you what I know. It’s all merely speculation, as I have never been there myself. However, I’ve seen a manifest from a
shipment that was transferred to the base shortly before the cataclysm that befell the place. And I remember seeing katerwans on the list. There were a number of other juicy items I’d like to get my hands on too. Really profitable stuff, if you know the right people to sell to,” Hubbell explained.

  Alis watched the viewscreen out of the corner of her eye. Hubbell’s ship tracked each approaching and receding speck, all the ships flurrying about. Readouts showed pertinent data, registration name, planet of origin, political affiliation, if any, and legal status. She realized that there had to be some computational resources in play.

  “Chuck, why don’t you introduce yourself,” Hubbell directed, not surprising Alis with the reveal.

  “I am an autonomous entity, or AE. A construct otherwise known as Chuck,” a disembodied voice echoed through the bridge.

  “He’s no BII, but he listens real good,” she explained. “Plus, he’s quick on the jump vector calculations, even if he lacks creativity.”

  “Creativity is an unknown characteristic to me, Captain,” Chuck replied stiffly.

  “Um, nice to meet you Chuck,” Kyren interjected. “Now where are we going, and how are we getting there? Oh, and what do we expect to encounter once we’re there?”

  “You forgot about how we’re gonna get out after we pull off the crazy heist we’re planning,” Hubbell replied with a lopsided grin.

  Alis could tell she was teasing Kyren, and he was certainly aware, as she watched his cheeks redden slightly.

  Chuckling, Alis asked, “Why don’t we run through it from the start? That might make more sense.”

  “Hmm, the beginning,” Hubbell proposed. “Let’s see, the Millennium War had just begun. The base called Europa Destinia was a crown jewel in the Consortium fleet. A shipyard, a place of higher learning, and a factory churning out technological marvels, Europa Destinia was a juicy target for the Crevak. They employed their most destructive weapon, one which caused the very star to explode, blasting the planet Yndaria to dust.”