The O'Neal Saboteur

by Nathan Pedde

  The Station security had closed off a section of the Teal Sector for unknown reasons. People suspected it concerned the missile attacks. Des hoped they would catch the guy, but he doubted it.

  “Cryslis, what’s this roadblock about?” Des said.

  “Unknown,” Cryslis said, “They just did it. I suspect it’s nothing more than a training exercise, but it’s probably nothing to do with us.”

  “And if it does?” Des said.

  “I have Cooley looking into it,” Cryslis said, “Get to class and don’t act like anything is different. No one can suspect anything has changed for you.”

  “Roger that,” Des said.

  “I’ll see you at work later,” Cryslis said.

  Des grumbled to himself and then had to backtrack and walk around the closed off area.

  ***

  Des made it to school on time, but not by much. He had only ten minutes to study for his test or to do any of his homework. He knew he was going to get in trouble for it.

  He walked through the school and to his locker. Leaning against Des’s locker was Alix, who moved away as Des approached.

  “What’s up?” Des asked.

  “You’re later than you normally are,” Alix said.

  “Bad morning,” Des said.

  “Did you do the homework for the biology class?” Alix said.

  “No,” Des said, “I got distracted by things.”

  “What things?” Alix said.

  “A video game,” Des said as he lied to his friend, “An older one of mine I had forgotten I had.”

  Des opened up his locker and sorted out his backpack, putting in textbooks and binders he didn’t need and grabbing ones he did needed.

  “Which one?” Alix said.

  “Final Adventures of Time and Space,” Des said.

  “I can’t stand the game,” Alix said, “Too many puzzles, dumb blue box, and not enough shooting.”

  “Shooting games are fun, but not all that great,” Des said.

  “I finally decided what I want to be when I graduate,” Alix said, “have you thought about it?”

  “I’m thinking an Astrogator,” Des said, as he looked at the time.

  “I want to be in the Black Team,” Alix said.

  “The what?” Des said, “A sports team?”

  “No,” Alix said, “A special ops unit in the Jovian Marines.”

  “You’d be good in it,” Des said.

  “Thanks, I think.”

  The bell rang loud and long. Des shut his locker door and locked it before he headed off to class.

  Hours had passed, and Des had struggled his way through the school day. The day wasn’t enjoyable, not like usual, he was trying very hard not to be stressed. All of the changes were bothering Des. He knew he had done very poorly on the test which Des didn’t study for, and he had a hard time focusing on his work. He would have to make up for the test, and figure out how to focus on his school work somehow. He had managed to get his homework assignments done between classes and during his breaks, but it was a rush job. He suspected he might not do very well on them.

  Des had gone to work, Courier One, like he was told. However, as he had walked into the door, Cryslis sent him into the Undercroft to see what he could see. Under her orders, he had gone into a different sector than he usually went to, in this case, it was the Purple Sector’s Undercroft.

  Dressed in his red courier uniform and his own face, not a disguise, he had ventured into the underground corridors and access-ways.

  The Undercroft in this sector was different than the other sectors he had unlocked the dreaded no access door. It might have been due to a different time and place. It was usually dank, dark and dangerous-looking, like a part of a horror-vid, where monsters would jump out of the walls at him at a moments notice.

  This part of the Undercroft looked like a construction zone. Wires were strewn across the floor, a pile of damaged metal sat in another corner. Walls were opened up which exposed the robust metal framework of the Undercroft.

  “Cryslis,” Des muttered quietly, “You there?”

  “I’m busy at the moment,” Cryslis said, “Unless it’s important, call me later.”

  Des shrugged his shoulders and kept walking through the construction maze. He turned a corner to see a large room full of construction materials. Neat piles of wires and stacks of metal sheathing sat in lines ready for use.

  Work lights were strung across the ceiling, shining light into dark corners where Des liked to hide.

  Des walked through the construction storage area into another corridor. The corridor looked much the same as the corridor before.

  He looked at the hard metallic floor. In the past, it was covered in dust. He could usually see footprints, which he would then follow. It made it easy for him to find anyone in the Undercroft red-handed. Most times, no one came down here, but himself.

  Now, the corridors were swept clean of dust. The passage of so many construction workers made tracking anyone impossible.

  Des stopped at the intersection of two corridors. He looked down them. He pulled a small recording devise out of his pocket and pressed a button.

  “Maybe video cameras,” Des muttered to his recorder, “but how do I tell who isn’t supposed to be in here. The could be disguised as well.”

  He silently cursed Cryslis wasn’t able to talk him through what to do now.

  Footsteps echoed from around a corner down the hallway. A low murmur of adult voices followed and intermingled with the crunch of the footfalls.

  Des panicked as there was nowhere to hide. No boxes were stacked along the walls, or pieces of large debris which he would have used before.

  With no other choice, Des straightened his back and stood up tall. He turned and walked towards the echoing footsteps. His mind was a buzz of what to say. He was going to have to make up a convincing lie and fast.

  Two construction workers turned a corner in front of Des. The workers had big tool belts on and carried large hammers.

  “Hey, kid,” the First Worker said, “You lost?”

  “Kinda,” Des said.

  “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  “Where’s Bob?” Des said to the first worker.

  Des panicked inside as he thought he was going to be caught in his lie.

  “Who’s Bob?”

  “Bob Flatule,” Des said, “I’ve a message for him that I need to deliver.”

  “Give me the message,” the Second Worker said, “I’ll make sure Bob gets it.”

  “I’ve to give it to him only,” Des said, “Its something called a muster-notice.”

  “Robert, that’s from the military,” the First Worker said.

  Des’s eyes widened at hearing the name of the worker.

  “I heard of it, Arinee,” Robert said, “The government is calling up veterans and conscripts. They send muster-notices to them to enlist or face the consequences.”

  “I don’t want my hands on that,” Arinee said, “I also heard if we accept the message or even acknowledge the messenger, we may be next on the list.”

  “Are you sure?” Robert said.

  “Yes. Remember Anthony?”

  “Yeh. He quit right?”

  “No. He accepted a message for Phil. Phil was being drafted, but he ran. They drafted Anthony in his place.”

  The two workers turned to Des.

  “I’ve never heard of any Bob Flutia-whatever,” Arinee said.

  Robert forced something into Des’s hand.

  “Here’s a twenty-credit chip,” Robert said, “Leave this section of the Undercroft. Another company has the contract for the next section. Look for Bob there. Don’t tell no one you saw us.”

  Des pocketed the credit chip.

  “Fine,” Des said, “I’ve gotten turned around down here. Could you point me the way out of here.”

  Both workers pointed towards where Des had entered the Undercroft.

  “Straight that way,” Airnee said
, “is the closest exit. Don’t turn left or right when you come to any other intersections. Just stay straight.”

  Des walked down the corridor towards the exit. He needed a new plan as this one had turned belly up.

  Chapter 9

  Des walked through the farmland of the Ruby Sector. His red uniform a stark contrast to the green of the fields and orchards. The gravel crunched under his boot as he walked down the path. Des saw a herd of cows in the distance. The cows were a small Martian variety with its signature yellow markings on its shaggy furry coat, and with its triple horns displayed proudly.

  “You there?” the voice of Cryslis echoed in his head.

  “Where would I be?” Des muttered.

  “I meant, have you found anything out in the Undercroft?” Cryslis asked.

  “Funny that. It turns out the place is crawling with bloody construction workers.”

  “What?”

  Des told her about what was going on in the Undercroft.

  “Why now?” Cryslis said, “Why did they fix that mess now?”

  “I’ve no idea,” Des said.

  “I could get you hired on in the company,” Cryslis said, “That’ll get you real close.”

  “Each sector has a separate construction company doing the work.”

  There was a ghostly silence from Cryslis which stretched on for a few minutes.

  “I’ll call you back.”

  Silence consumed once more.

  Des continued down the dusty road towards his parked hover-scooter. He had a long way to get back to the shop and still his real job to do.

  Hours went by as he delivered package after package, it all seemed like it had taken longer than he had intended. Des had other things to do, but he had work to do first.

  After what seemed like forever, Des sat in the ready room at the office of Courier One. The white tiles glistened in the fluorescent lighting. A locker sat to one side with his name written on a piece of tape. Des had his shirt off and was in the process of changing into his regular clothes.

  The ready room was empty of people. Des assumed the rest of the couriers had all gone home for the day.

  “Where did you go today?” A man’s voice behind him.

  Des turned to see Diplin’s large frame standing behind him. Des thought of Cryslis’s name over and over again.

  “Diplin, you’re not my supervisor,” Des said, “I don’t answer to you. And aren’t you up for disciplinary review?”

  Des hoped Cryslis was listening to his part of the conversation.

  “Well. I’m the bosses son. I’ll be the branch manager soon and then I’ll-”

  “Shut up,” Des said, “Until that time happens you can’t talk to me.”

  “Excuse me.”

  “I’ve been told by my supervisor not to talk to you,” Des said, “If you wish to speak to me you need to go to my supervisor.”

  Diplin’s face turned red. He swung his hand back and struck towards Des at a surprisingly fast speed. It connected square with his nose. Shock ran up Des’s spine as he recoiled from the blow. A trickle of blood ran down his lips.

  “Your funeral,” Des said.

  Diplin’s fist came at Des once more.

  This time, Des dodged his head to the side at the last moment, and Diplin’s fist connected with the metal locker. A meaty crunch came from Diplin’s closed fist.

  Des ducked to the side out of the way as Diplin howled in pain.

  “See what happens when you lose your temper,” Des said, “You end up denting lockers and breaking fists.”

  “I’m going to turn you to a pulp,” Diplin said.

  Diplin grabbed at Des’s neck. Des pulled out a small pin shooter from his pocket. The pin shooter was small enough to fit in the palm of his hand and shot out a small charged pin which could reach out and hit fifty meters away. The pins did different things, Des’s favorites were small electric shocks and knock-out liquids.

  Des jammed the end of the pin shooter into Diplin’s thigh and pulled the trigger.

  Diplin shrieked and jumped backward in pain. Diplin’s leg gave out, and he collapsed in a heap unable to move.

  “I don’t know why you hate me so much,” Des said, “but I’m here against my wishes.”

  “What… to me…” Diplin said.

  “Hush. Look. I’d rather be elsewhere,” Des said, “but, can you look up into that corner of the ready room?”

  Des watched Diplin strained to look up into the corner. A small black device sat on top of a locker. It’s black shape stood out from the rest of the white room.

  “It’s a video camera with sound,” Des said, “It’s recording us right now. If you attack me again, I’ll send the footage to the authorities, and I’ll make a formal complaint. This footage is damaging enough that you will go to jail.”

  Des stepped over Diplin and walked to the small camera. He grabbed it and put it in his pocket.

  “I don’t expect you to talk,” Des said, “The shock will cause your vocal cords and your muscles to cease working for about a half hour.”

  A foul stench rose up from Diplin.

  “Oh. I forgot about that,” Des said.

  He coughed harshly as bile rose up from his stomach.

  “The bowls will also loosen up,” Des said, “I apologize.”

  Des dressed quickly. He stuffed his Courier One uniform into his pack, and he left the ready room.

  Outside of the ready room, he saw Cryslis as she stormed up the hallway.

  “You okay,” Cryslis asked, “You’re bleeding. I’ll-”

  Cryslis moved to enter the ready room. Des blocked her path.

  “I dealt with it,” Des said.

  “What?” Cryslis said.

  “I’ve clocked out,” Des said, “I’ll tell you later. Let’s go. Before Mr. Anderson finds me.”

  ***

  Des walked down the street. He was in the middle of the Pink Sector, and Cryslis walked beside him. The road was empty of people. The light faded from the city signaling it was going to be night soon.

  “You did what?”

  “I recorded the entire exchange with the guy and blackmailed him,” Des said.

  “No wonder the boss sent you to me,” Cryslis said, “You’re fearless.”

  Des stayed silent as they walked down the street. Their path zig-zagged around the sector with no clear route.

  After they checked to make sure they weren’t being followed, they entered the safehouse. Des was afraid the Veer was somehow following them, but he had to remind himself Veer didn’t have knowledge of his real face.

  The house looked the same as before. The only difference was there was a few more soda beverages on the counter. Cooley sat at his customary place in front of the computer, dark circles were under Cooley’s eyes. Des guessed he wasn’t the only one who had a lack of sleep the night before.

  “So what exactly did you see in the Undercroft?” Cooley said.

  Des pulled out a small device from his pocket. It was red and misshapen.

  “Here is a data stick,” Des said, “I recorded it all.”

  Des passed the data stick to Cooley.

  He plugged it into the computer and looked at the footage. The images on the screen blurred as he scrolled through them at almost light speed.

  “Our plan’s a bust,” Cooley said after a moment.

  “Yeh,” Cryslis replied, “No way we can stalk the Undercroft now.”

  Cryslis turned to Des, “Do you’ve any ideas?”

  “No,” Des replied, “And I’ve homework to get done. I should get going.”

  ***

  The next morning was a repeat of the day before. He had left his house at four in the morning so that he get to the safehouse and he changed into his uniform and his Ryder Fly disguise. However, it was still unnerving to look in a mirror and see someone else looking back at him.

  Des arrived at the military academy early enough so he could write out what had happened in the previous lec
ture. Mr. Smith had forced him to write it on a piece of plasto-paper and not a tablet. He hadn’t had to write using a pen and pencil since he was little with his parents.

  He shoved the uncomfortable memory back into his mind, he needed to concentrate on the task at hand.

  Not everyone had arrived with enough time to write the notes from the previous lecture. Des noticed Veer didn’t show up until a few moments before Mr. Smith marched into the classroom. He watched him scramble to write some notes into the paper. Des managed to remember most of what he thought was spoken at the previous lecture. He was unsure if he was accurate enough as Mr. Smith collected notes. He didn’t tell him if it was correct or not.

  The hour went by before he knew it, and he paid attention as best he could.

  After the class was done, he managed to slip away from Veer, who followed him like a lost puppy. He disappeared out of the same bathroom window. He would have to remember to find a better way or three out of the building without getting noticed.

  A few hours later, he sat in History Class at his regular school, and he wore his proper school uniform like all of the other kids in his class.

  Des’s eye drooped, and he fought to keep his eyes open.

  He wasn’t paying attention to what the teacher, Mr. Mixon, was saying at the front of the class.

  Mr. Mixon had drawn diagrams on the board, and he used wild hand motions as he talked.

  “Des,” A seemingly distant Voice said, “Des.”

  Des’s mind snapped back, and he stood up.

  “Des,” Mr. Mixon said, “Wake up. Were you paying attention?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Why not?” Mr. Mixon asked.

  “No real excuse. I stayed up too late to keep up with homework sir.”

  “A likely story,” Mr. Mixon replied.

  “What are the three reasons the first space explorers finally left Earth for good and traveled to settle on Mars?” Mr. Mixon asked, “Answer it, and I’ll overlook you falling asleep in my class. Don’t, and you get an essay.”

  “Um…” Des stumbled as he searched for words.

  Des looked around the room. A couple of the students seemed bored, but many of them were openly laughing at Des. He felt his cheeks get red.