Dalida: A Scifi Space Opera Adventure
Page 30
After being discharged from the military, Hank went to the forest for sanctuary, living in the woods close to the animals, to rekindle his youthful dreams of the ancient Earth ideals, of Don Quixote. He ran away from the war-filled society, people created, to the peaceful society of nature. For the past five years, imagination and emotion had dominated while reality receded.
Hank studied the cabin and thought about security. Everyone ‘of interest’ to the government was added to its List. Every computer screen someone looked at, looked back at them, and they were all linked, eventually, to the List. Using facial recognition, those ‘of interest’ would be found. Satellites routinely scanned the planet’s surface, and matches were made when the subject didn’t even know he was being watched. Of course, a roof would not stop the most sophisticated of such systems but inside he had defenses that could scramble the data sent to most government scans.
Hank was upset by the lack of personal rights and personal freedom, and praised the Confederates over in the Delta Quadrant who were trying to break out of the Union. The Union had directed a great deal of manpower and techno-power to the quadrant and, the last he’d heard, they were not getting their money’s worth. The Confederates had fierce fighters and defeated the Union in the first few, if minor, battles.
The Confederates also had a sense of humor. They knew their history. Since the government was called “The Union”, they called themselves “Confederates”, harking back to the American Civil War. In this conflict, they claimed they had the “Glorious Cause” not the Union. It was rumored Union officials, not having a solid background in history, were puzzled by the name. Confederate soldiers got a kick out of it, even though no planet in the would-be breakaway knew anything about the land of cotton.
“Let’s go, Alan,” Hank said. “Up the stairs.”
He put his hand on the professor’s arm. The man seemed frail and weak as he was helped up the stairs. Ida opened the garage and drove in. Hank opened the door and helped Alan into a chair.
“Are you hungry?” Hank offered.
“Yes, but I don’t know what to eat.” Alan rubbed his abdomen. “The last few days haven’t been well on my stomach. I’ve been on the run.”
“I’ll get you something.” Hank fiddled with the interface on his wrist. “Ida baby, fix up a small bowl of Pouter Stew. Easy on the spices. In fact, ignore the spices. Just the chopped beef, diced potatoes and a few veggies, heavy on the gravy. And rolls.”
“Yes, Captain!”
“Thank you,” Alan said. “Is Ida your housekeeper?”
“No!” Hank chuckled, “The AI from my car is integrated across all platforms including my house. Ida used to control my ship. When I retired from the corps she couldn’t live without me. Isn’t that right, Ida baby?”
“That is incorrect. I was a retirement gift from Union command in lieu of financial compensation. I’m certain I would function quite adequately without your presence. In fact, my chances of continued existence would improve by 45.85 percent…”
“Thank you, Ida baby.” Hank interrupted. “My AI’s programmers had a sense of humor. She’s a bit testy at times but top of the line when it comes to navigation and security.”
“Thank you,” Alan said again “Thank you too, Ida.”
“Think nothing of it, Professor.” Ida answered.
“We’re not, pardon the pun, out of the woods yet. Save the thanks until I get you somewhere safer than this.”
Hank eased into the cushioned chair and stretched his legs onto an ottoman.
It was a relief to be back in his cabin which had been designed to accommodate his six-foot four frame. Although he was retired, Hank kept himself in top condition and, between bouts of drinking, was considered handsome and quite charming. In a way he was the stereotypical good-looking hero type: blonde hair, square jaw, twinkling blue eyes, broad chest and long legs. He also had a small scar above his right eyebrow and his nose was bent from being broken one too many times, which seemed to offset his classic good looks and give him a certain rugged charm. All in all, Hank thought he still looked good for a 35-year-old military washout.
“I don’t think there is anywhere safe for me on this planet.” The professor mused, “The Union will stop at nothing to find me.”
“You may be right. I was thinking the same thing myself, Professor. So, we need to keep on the move…except I’m not sure where to go.”
Hank could smell the familiar scent of cooking stew coming from the kitchen food dispenser. “Like a drink, Professor?” he asked.
“Yes, I would. I’d like a drink, but I don’t think my stomach would. I don’t think I could keep it down.”
“Okay, maybe you can sip mine.”
He opened a cabinet and pulled out a tall glass, then grabbed a bottle of bourbon next to the wall. He poured some liquor into his glass and then moved it under the kitchen faucet.
“This isn’t branch water, but it will do,” he said. “Ida baby, anything on the horizon?”
“We have a couple of Squirts chattering and running across the roof and a deer is on the perimeter. A small moose is moving languidly up the trail and—”
“Why did they ever put satire into computers?” Hank asked in an exasperated tone. “It’s not funny.”
“I don’t know,” Alan said, “I was somewhat amused.”
“Computers and professors. They have a lot in common.”
He sipped his drink and breathed a sigh of relief. If there had been any government cars or guards heading for the cabin, Ida would have noted it. There was a type of odd logic to the computer’s humor.
The food dispenser opened and a blue bowl of beef stew slid out. Hank took another sip of his drink, found a tray and put the stew on it. He walked it over to Alan and set it across his lap.
“This should give you some strength. Not only does Ida drive well, she’s also a fine cook.”
“Thank you. You’ve saved my life.”
“All in a day’s work of tilting at windmills, Alan. Once you eat, I would like to ask you a few questions.”
“Of course.”
Hank filled a glass with water and set it on the tray, then ordered a second bowl of stew for himself. He ate in silence, glancing at Alan and then out the window. He listened to the noises from the forest, wondering if it was more than just random. An owl gave a gentle hoot. Squirts, as Ida said, ran across the roof. When the generation ships left Earth, they not only brought humans into space, they brought animals with them. Animals in frozen embryo stage. It was one decision that he heartily approved of. He had grown up in a rural area and enjoyed the country. He had always loved animals.
Lupine was a relatively young planet as it had been colonized a mere 200 years before. It was an out of the way place with very few industries and few inhabitants. Hank had liked the idea of disappearing into the fringes of known space and Lupine had relatively cheap real estate which was important to a disgraced military officer with limited finances. The weather was mild for the most part, the planet was mostly temperate forest, some jungle and sandy beaches. Its population consisted mostly of retirees and minor merchants trading in textiles and civilian tech items.
It was similar to Hank’s home planet of Deastea, but he did not want the Union to know where he was. In fact, up until this moment he was sure they had not taken any notice of him. In this day and age, it was impossible to completely disappear, but he had made himself appear unimportant enough to be forgotten. That was all about to change.
The unassuming nature of this planet was the very reason that the ISRD were headquartered here. The very presence of the agency also meant that hidden somewhere on this planet was a Union base and that would be a problem for Hank.
He glanced outside but saw nothing in the forest except the shadows of dawn. He knew they couldn’t stay in the cabin forever. The state would find them. Somewhere in the omnipresent files of the Union, the vast semi-intelligent machines probably had filed away in their digital bra
ins that Hank Snider, an unruly citizen, had a cabin on Oakney Mountain. In a nanosecond, the word would be sent out to black-clad Union Guards to arrest or kill him.
Hank frowned. That was the price he’d have to pay for ending his peaceful hibernation. How involved did he want to be in Alan’s escape?
As he watched Alan swallow a huge spoonful of stew and gravy, he wondered how long it had been since the man had eaten? He began thinking of the places he could hide him until…until what? He didn’t exactly have a plan and the Union had all of the soldiers, metal men, and assassins on their side. This was a medium-sized planet but with all the techno-sophistication of the Union, they could not hide for long.
He looked over just as Alan drifted into sleep, dropping his spoon into the now empty bowl.
I’ll let him sleep and then ask some questions.
It depended on how bad the Union wanted the professor.
Hank thought the Union probably had a five-star red alarm search for Alan. They wanted him bad. Just what exactly did the professor know?
3
The men and women who worked at the ISRD were used to having high officials and top-secret personnel trod down the halls and were used to seeing military figures visit the agency. Such visits did cause spines to straighten and nerves to go on high alert, but no one created the same level of visible anxiety as the Red Jackal.
That was not his real name, of course. He was simply called The Jackal if anyone spoke of him. It was inconceivable that someone would call him “Red.” He had short, fiery red hair above a very pale face, which explained part of the nickname. A nickname he liked. When angered–and no one wanted to see The Jackal angry–the red in the center of his eyes would flash a deeper color. With his aquiline nose and pointed chin, he really looked like a Jackal. He wasn’t a talkative man. He spoke slowly and, although a tad slender, he had a deep baritone voice, which snapped backbones to attention, even among the commanders.
The Red Jackal was a pure example of the excesses that eugenics could achieve. His family were royalty on a major Union planet and had manipulated his DNA to produce what they considered superiority. This rewriting of his genetic code had also produced his odd appearance and ruthlessness as well as a deep psychosis. He harbored a strong hatred of all non-engineered members of the population and was almost religious in punishing those he considered inferior.
Walking into the headquarters of Military and State Security, MSS, he wore the black uniform trimmed with red that all members of the Wolverine Section wore. The Wolverines were the most secretive of all the military branches. The Jackal’s main mission had always been to clean up mistakes in matters of Union security. This was a major mess.
The doors dilated as he walked toward them, and he entered General McTeer’s office without warning.
The MSS General stood with his back to the window. Physically, he was twenty pounds bigger than The Jackal and, technically, outranked him. But it was the general who was uneasy with the black- and red-clad Wolverine in his office. He had a reputation for intimidating his superiors effortlessly. He spoke quietly, some said, with incredible politeness. The more polite he was, the more uneasy was the commander speaking to him. The Jackal saluted then stood relaxed before the general’s desk.
“I was summoned. Why?” spat The Jackal.
“Because we have need of your special skills. A job vital to the security of the Union.”
The Jackal showed a condescending smile. “All my jobs are vital. Other people are given unimportant jobs.”
The general realized he was being spoken down to, but he didn’t mind, not with The Jackal.
“This is your most important task by far.”
“All right, you’ve piqued my curiosity. What is it?”
“You must capture Professor Alan Serrano…or kill him. It is of the highest priority. He recently escaped from this facility.”
“Escaped? That was careless of you.”
The Jackal’s voice did not have an accusatory tone to it. He spoke the sentence as a mere statement of fact. Yet the general winced at The Jackal’s words.
“We believed him loyal as there was no indication he would become a traitor. We were all taken by surprise.”
The Jackal snorted. “It is not the first time I’ve had to clean up one of your messes. I do my job, but you keep screwing up. It may be time to wall the facility off and not let anyone leave.”
“Perhaps we will discuss that possibility later but at the moment finding the professor takes top priority. He must be found soon. Let me say that again, ‘He must be found.’ He knows vital secrets, secrets that only a few top government officials know. Secrets that, if known, could destroy the Union.”
“I take it he had a high level of security.”
“The highest.”
“And he escaped.”
The general shifted on his feet. The tone did not sound accusatory yet somehow it was.
“He was not a prisoner. As I said, we thought he was completely loyal.”
“An error in judgement, General.”
The General decided to ignore the remark. “A squad of guards were sent to recapture him and they would have, except for another man, who intervened and defeated the guards. He fled with Serrano.”
“He defeated the guards? How many did you have?”
“Five.”
“Five? He took out five men. The guards must have been old and fat.”
“No, they were in the best of health and had the best training. This man is a former Captain in our Navy and was one of the finest commanders in our armed forces.”
“So, what happened?” asked The Jackal, showing a sneer at the incompetence of other soldiers.
“I don’t think that matters now. All that matters is that he and the professor are on the run. They must be captured or killed. It is imperative they are found quickly before they can join forces with the Confederates. If Snider could get to a ship, he could definitely pilot it. He would be tough to catch in space.”
“Snider?” There was something in The Jackal’s voice that caught the attention of the General. “Hank Snider?”
“Yes. That’s the man. Do you know him?”
“Our paths have crossed.” The Jackal had quickly regained his neutral demeanor. “So, he escaped? And you have no idea where he is?”
“Captain Snider is an…exceptional man. We don’t know why he interfered, but he did. The guards were not expecting it. They were surprised.”
“Your guards should be expecting anything at any time, especially when chasing a valuable, and dangerous criminal. This Captain Snider took advantage of their incompetence,” The Jackal said.
“Valuable, but not dangerous. Professor Serrano is in his sixties and in fair condition but only that. He’s had no physical training and I doubt he even knows how to shoot a gun. Capturing him would not have been a problem except for Snider. It’s finding him that’s the problem. I will send you his complete file. And Snider’s, too. We…this government is on the edge of a… phenomenal event. If what Serrano knows gets out, it could ruin everything. It could have repercussions not just for this planet but for the Empire.”
The Jackal sniffed again. “Calm yourself. I will find him and his accomplice. If I bring him back instead of killing him, try not to lose him again. Which would you prefer?”
“It’s a matter of indifference to me.”
“Then you know what I’ll choose.”
The well-dressed man strolled slowly through the city park, impeccably dressed in a one-piece outfit made of some exotic animal from one of Lupine’s moons. In his hand was a rain-shield, a long stick which erected a force field to protect one’s head in the event of rain, but as of yet the black clouds had not produced any precipitation. He was, at best, 40 years old and nodded and smiled to other walkers twirling the rain-shield nonchalantly.
The path he trod, which was composed of solar collecting compressed glass, wound its way among the maple trees, purple indigen
ous grass and several enormous local flowers that resembled 15-foot tulips. Two large dogs expressed an interest in the stranger but were compelled to return to their owner via canine implant. The dogs bounded down the path chasing after imaginary prey.
The man stopped as he came upon a slender blonde dressed in a flattering government uniform and a light blue Lab coat, bent over near a pond, speaking to a small mammal that was a hybrid of a Squirt and a local rodent of some sort. The result was the quirt, which looked white and fluffy.
“I’m sorry. I have no food today. I usually bring nuts, but I forgot today. But you won’t starve, you chubby little dear,” she said, a note of laughter in her voice. She had blue eyes, a prominent nose and a laughing smile
She laughed when the Squirt chatted back, possibly noting his disappointment at not being fed.
“I can help you there,” the man said. He held a bag of gumnuts, lifted one out, and tossed it toward the Squirt, who ran over and snatched it between his jaws. He quickly ran up an enormous tulip.
“Thank you,” the woman said. “I do usually bring food, but it just slipped my mind when I left the office today.”
“No problem. I have plenty. I feed them almost every day.” He tipped his hat. “I’m Jake Steed. Delighted to meet you.”
She offered her hand. “Lory Cox. The pleasure is all mine.”
“Charmed to make your acquaintance.” He offered her the bag. Her fingers slipped in and grabbed a gumnut.
“What do you do, Mr. Steed?”
“I’m retired, Ms. Cox.”
“You’re too young to retire.”
“I am, but my father, bless his heart, was a collector. As it happens he liked to collect credits. He seemed to have a gift for increasing financial accounts. One of them was mine. I deeply appreciated his gift. He had an amazing work ethic, worked all the time. Which allows me to enjoy a leisurely life and take walks in the park whenever I choose. I have the time to stroll and meet lovely ladies in the afternoon. Call me Jake.”