The Last Reaper: An Intergalactic Space Opera Adventure

by J. N. Chaney

  “Unlikely. The equipment to block radio communications is cumbersome and not normally assigned to spec ops teams. If I detected a naval vessel in our immediate vicinity, this would be a possibility.”

  I searched the sky for the USC Thunder or one of the dropships and saw nothing on any visual spectrum. If Slab’s RSG saw one of the ships, they weren’t shooting at it this time.

  “Maybe I should whistle,” I said.

  “Excellent idea. Choose a sound from some of the local wildlife.”

  “I’m not sure if I’m impressed or freaked out by your lapses into perfect sarcasm.”

  “How can I not be perfect?”

  “With you, X, it’s either a direct hit or a complete miss, and I think you steal my jokes.”

  “It is necessary for me to steal everything. If you would please refrain from using the legends of this Chuck Norris person, I would appreciate it. The illogic of these jokes is mind-boggling.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, X.”

  “Creativity, or whatever near approximation can be achieved through programming, is a capital offense for AIs. You know this. Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

  “If you’re going to roll with me, you need to be an outlaw.”

  “Noted. I will endeavor to create jokes and deliver them at appropriate times. Still no response to our radio signal.”

  I stared at Grady and the others, muttering curses under my breath. “Come on, you dumbasses. Someone see me.”

  Elise looked up, scanning the area as I had seen her do several times before. Her eyes went wide with recognition.

  “Finally,” I muttered. “You just got out spec op’d by a teenage runaway, Grady.”

  I pointed toward Grady, but she just stared at me, tired and obviously worried—probably about her father as much as she complained about him.

  “Fine, I’ll just climb down there,” I said.

  “Was that statement for me or for the girl who can’t hear you from this distance?”

  “Wow, X. You’re on a roll today.” Climbing down took longer than it should have, because I didn’t know where the sniper was and I had this thing about not getting drilled in the head with a supersonic bullet.

  Elise watched me but didn’t say anything to Grady or her father. My old friend must have been hurt even worse than I thought. He was totally focused on the super soldier and his squad of assassins, which was understandable, since he wasn’t accustomed to being betrayed by his handlers—something any Reaper expected by the time they’d done two missions. I’d done a lot more than that.

  “I hope you’re paying more attention than Grady is,” I said as I slipped into their hideout. The backdoor, so to speak, wasn’t barricaded. “Sooner or later, they’ll come this way.”

  “I know. Your friend has been in a bad mood since he got shot at by his ship.”

  “His ship didn’t shoot at him,” I said, despite agreeing with her completely. It didn’t seem right to admit how fucked-up this mission was. “That was directive fire. I’m sure they’re just trying to help.”

  Elise rolled her eyes, clearly disgusted at my bullshit.

  “All right, fine. He’s a whiny bitch. Get betrayed by the Union one time, and you think the world is ending.”

  She laughed loud enough to draw the attention of the others. “Thank gods. I was starting to think you had a stick up your ass just like he does.”

  “Which one, Grady or your father?”

  “Either. Both.” We didn’t have a lot of time before Grady and her father confronted us, but I noticed something about her hesitation to elaborate.

  I waited for her to elaborate.

  “I think you and I have more in common than we realize,” she said, unable to look me in the eyes.

  “It’s about time,” Grady interrupted. “Do you have something against answering the radio?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing. All I’m getting is static or dead air.”

  “That’s a product of the faltering shield generator. We may have less time than you think. Look there at the horizon. Can you see it?” Doctor Hastings asked.

  It took me a second, but I saw what was bothering him. A cloud of debris was drifting toward the shield, clearly unrestrained by gravity.

  “The gravity should fail all at once,” Grady said.

  “Not necessarily,” replied the doctor. “Just like there are fluctuations in the atmosphere shield, energy isn’t constant. It pulses. The key is to keep the wavelengths near enough that it makes no difference. This place is falling apart and so is the technology. You can expect a gradually decreasing ring of effectiveness around whoever is maintaining the generators. Because it’s clear not all of the station is getting regular tune-ups.”

  “Can you walk, Grady?” I asked.

  He nodded grimly.

  “Then we better get moving. I don’t think they know I’m here, so I’ll shadow your movements and remain out of sight for as long as possible.”

  Grady objected, “That can be tricky and it’s also unnecessary.” He handed me a shortened, highly modified version of the HDK I’d lost and several full magazines. “I scavenged these after our last encounter with these guys. Let’s stay together.”

  “I have my reasons for splitting up.”

  “We don’t have time for bullshit. What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I ran into the leader of the spec ops team hunting us. We didn’t hit it off.”

  “Leave it to you to antagonize the people probably sent to rescue us,” Grady said.

  Elise and I shared a knowing look. My friend was in pain and denial.

  “Get moving, Grady. I’ll be right behind you.” I waited until he was out of earshot, then nodded at Elise. “You and I are going to talk later.”

  15

  “I SHOULD’VE SEEN this coming, X,” I said. “Find me a talk box. I need to talk to the kid in the tower.”

  “His name is Bug and there is a talk box and camera cluster at every intersection from here to the pickup site,” X-37 said.

  I moved quickly, opening and closing my cybernetic left hand several times. There wasn’t pain, but the compulsion to check its functionality seem to be increasing. This generally indicated there was damage to the unit.

  It didn’t take long for me to realize Grady was leading the doctor and his daughter into a trap. It was a huge relief, actually, because I was starting to think the spec ops team was unstoppable. Their trap was a good one, but not unexpected. So they were only human, not nightmares out of my imagination. Grady was either sleeping on the job or part of the trap. I wasn’t sure which explanation bothered me more.

  “Are you seeing what I’m seeing, X?”

  “They have their super soldier leader with them and seem to have given up on finding you. My analysis suggests their priority is to reclaim the doctor.”

  “Can we flank them without climbing on the highest unstable platform out here?” I asked. “I’d also like to avoid swimming in twenty years of untreated sewage.”

  “Of course. Displaying options via your HUD now.”

  “Thanks, X. You’re the man.”

  “Please stop with the nonsensical colloquialisms,” requested the AI.

  The spec ops team worked their way into position, setting up overlapping fields of fire from two directions. Moving from shadow to shadow, listening to advice from X, I took up the third position in a triangle.

  The attack they were about to unleash would be devastating without intervention. They weren’t worried about their own defense perimeter—a mistake that was going to cost them.

  “Hey, Grady,” I said, hoping to get through the radio static.

  No obvious response, but I saw him flinch.

  “You remember that time I told you to get the fuck down?”

  Grady grabbed the doctor and Elise, slamming them facedown against the deck without responding to my warning. Of course, I probably wouldn’t know if he respond
ed because the radios were so garbled and unreliable. He probably said, “Thanks, you’re the best,” or something like that.

  The only comms rig that worked every time was the hardwired talk boxes Bug and his friends in the surveillance booth used.

  The spec ops team hesitated, then fired. One pulled the pin on the grenade and cocked back his arm.

  I shot him in the throat, then turned my new and improved HDK on the rest of his team. Callus and two others drove clear of the onslaught, returning fire almost instantly but without knowing my position.

  “I suggest moving before they get a lock on you,” X-37 said.

  Ducking low, I ran behind a support beam and went prone, but only because I wanted to. Not because my Reaper AI was the boss of me.

  The grenade exploded and I heard men scream.

  “I doubt we’ll get a drop on them a second time,” I said.

  “I guarantee you’re right,” Callus growled.

  I twisted onto my side and looked up, only to find my nemesis squatting on a power box high above me.

  “I wish you’d stop doing that,” said Callus.

  “Stop doing what? Sneaking up on you because I’m the better soldier?”

  “No. The dramatic pauses are tedious. What is this, an action holo? Take some acting lessons or get over it.”

  “You’re not as funny as you think you are. I could have shot you in the back. Who would’ve thought a Reaper could be so easy to surprise?”

  I yanked my feet underneath me while he was finishing his monologue and darted around the support beam, hoping the other spec ops personnel didn’t spot me. From the sound of it, they were busy with Grady, but I didn’t want to take chances.

  Callus chased me between stainless steel beams that supported one of the maintenance bot rail systems. The un-corroded metal contrasted with the reddish-brown deck it was bolted to. Shadows flashed as several of the automated bots zipped toward destinations unknown.

  I stopped, changing directions abruptly. Callus adjusted, rushing forward like a linebacker, his feet never slipping or getting hung up by poorly tuned magnetic soles. I expected to be tackled the first time I made a mistake. We aimed at each other several times, but neither of us fired our weapons. It was a tense, fast-paced game of chess.

  I had a feeling that whoever missed first would die first in this scenario.

  The sound of gunfire increased from the ambush site. I hoped Grady could hang on until I dealt with this guy. Otherwise, this was all for nothing.

  “The support beams aren’t going to last forever,” he shouted, then fired a round that ricocheted close to my head. “Hasn’t that old X-unit warned you yet? Or don’t you trust your fucked-up nerve-ware?”

  I bolted from the questionable cover and concealment the rail system provided, sprinting into one of the top deck neighborhoods. Most of the civilians, whether they were convicted criminals or political refugees, went inside and shut their doors.

  If there hadn’t been a running gun battle, this area would be in the middle of its peak working hours, I thought. There were a lot of people out and about who were too far from their homes or workstations to take shelter. They gathered to argue and discuss what they must’ve heard happening all night.

  Why all the gunfire and explosions? What was causing the frequent tremors? Did anyone see the neighbor’s tool shed float into the void last night?

  Men and women who looked like they were prepared to go to work hesitated when they saw me running at them, probably unable to appreciate how fast I was moving now.

  There wasn’t cover. Speed was the only friend I had.

  Callus came after me like a freight train, closing the distance faster than I could believe. He was bigger and more heavily muscled than I was, and I wasn’t small. Lean and mean and strong enough to break a man’s back—that was one of the training catchphrases Reapers used.

  I wasn’t slow, even before I had X-37 to manipulate my hormone profile and turn my physical training into elite-level results. I wasn’t as strong or as fast as I would’ve been had I not spent the past two years on death row, but I had an advantage over almost anyone in the Union.

  Callus was the exception. I didn’t know if he was the new version of a Reaper, but there was something giving him an edge.

  I crashed through the civilians, shouting at them to get the hell out of the way and take cover.

  Some of them reacted quicker than others. Callus slammed a man off his feet who moved too slow to get out of the way.

  “Head to the transfer station, where all the noises are coming from. Bring back my team. Do it now!” Callus said.

  I reached the corner but had to look back to see what happened to the bystanders. It only took a second, but it felt like too long.

  The crowd drifted away from the super soldier, watching him like he was a dangerous animal. Not one obeyed his order.

  “I told you to move! Bring my team. I’m in pursuit of a dangerous fugitive,” said Callus.

  Several of the locals laughed.

  A man with a thick beard and rough hands stepped forward with a wrench. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  Callus stomped on the man’s knee, using the downward angle taught in high-level martial arts courses. The man screamed as he collapsed. Two other men rushed to help. Callus cut one’s throat with a knife I barely saw him draw and punched another in the face. A third mechanic retreated with a broken arm.

  I couldn’t believe how fast and powerful this asshole was.

  “X, can you see any cybernetic attachments?”

  “No. This is something else. Genetic modifications perhaps, or some ancient technology one of the Union research teams has been working on.”

  Callus looked up from the needless attacks on the bystanders, caught my eye, and smiled.

  “You son-of-a-bitch,” I said, then turned to run.

  He yelled after me, “Come back here, or I’ll do worse! You don’t want to get these people hurt!”

  “I do not recommend you comply,” X-37 said in a rush.

  “I’m way ahead of you. We’ll deal with this jerk someplace private.”

  CALLUS CAME after me like I knew he would. He only looked stupid. I doubted the Union would invest so much money in this super soldier without going all the way. The man had to know my Reaper training and understand that taking hostages would never be effective against me.

  It pissed me off, but that was probably not the effect he’d be looking for. The only reason he hurt those people was because he enjoyed it.

  My vigilante gene flared up despite the Union’s effort to rid me of it during years of training and manipulation. “Hey, asswipe, why don’t you try me?” I asked.

  “Oh, you’re gonna stand and fight now? Perfect. I’ll be home in time for dinner.”

  “Big talk for a guy with a spec ops team on the way. You couldn’t beat me one on one. If I was a hundred percent, you wouldn’t stand a chance,” I said, almost believing my own trash talk.

  “What exactly are you doing?” X-37 asked.

  “Stalling.”

  “Stalling? Why? So he can get the rest of his team here?” asked X.

  I watched the elite commandos take their positions. “So Grady can get away with the principals,” I muttered.

  “Your plan would be more effective if you had included Grady in its development. I can’t see any evidence he has left with Hastings or his daughter,” X-37 said.

  Not for the first time, I decided X had a point. “Hal for Grady,” I said in a low voice. “Can you hear me?”

  Radio static filled my earpiece.

  16

  “I’M REALLY NOT that impressed, Reaper,” Callus said.

  “It’s not about you, asshole,” I said, listening for Grady’s answer and getting frustrated. If they didn’t get clear, it limited what I could do next.

  One of the spec operators moved closer to Callus. “Why don’t we just erase the girl and witnesses?”

  C
allus hissed something I couldn’t quite make out.

  “Did I hear that right, X?”

  “It seems their primary objective is to kill Elise. I’m not sure why he’s fixated on you.” A pause. “I had assumed the objective was to rescue the doctor and reclaim his research, including his daughter.”

  “Don’t worry about it, X. I’ll feed you some more data when I can.”

  It made sense, in a way. Doctor Hastings claimed she’d been kidnapped and put here to ensure his cooperation on a secret project, which was probably at least partially true. Putting a teenage girl on Dreadmax when they had to know it was failing seemed excessive.

  The man had told me part of the truth as he understood it. He’d used technology he lifted from the Lex Project to cure Elise from a childhood illness. She’d been changed and probably singled out for close observation.

  Her ability to stay alive in this hellish, man-made world was impressive. Genetic enhancements must have given her an edge. She’d done the rest, I decided, but I also wagered there was more to her story than I’d been told. We had started a conversation we had yet to finish. She’d said something about us not being as different as we thought.

  I’d blown off the comment at the time. I was twice her age and had given up parts of my body to cybernetic replacement long before she was born. My enhancements had nothing to do with the Lex Project, as far as I knew, since the original test subject that the doctor mentioned hadn’t existed back then.

  “Time to gamble,” I said to X-37.

  “Oh, no,” said X.

  I moved closer to Callus. “Your failure to plan isn’t my problem.”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked.

  “You can’t get us both,” I remarked

  “I can, and if I don’t, we still win. Neither one of you can get off Dreadmax to infect the galaxy.” Callus held up a fist to keep the rest of his team back a respectful distance. They could probably still hear and record the incident with their body cameras, but they had the advantage of being well-positioned to cut me off if I tried to escape in a random direction.

  “You should have just nuked the place from orbit,” I said.