Dependent Days

by Chris Sapp

  “What I believe is happening now, to use General Pax’s butterfly metaphor, is that the patients have awoken from their detox induced comas and now they are attempting to emerge from their cocoons. Another point of interest, is that the thickness of the cocoon is considerably less dense than it was before and it’s taken on an almost elastic quality,” Harbinger said. The doctor was right. The skin of the cocoons was stretching much further than any normal skin should and Izabel could almost make out the hands and feet pushing from inside the cocoons. Each patient continued to struggle for freedom until the walls of their flesh prisons burst open like water balloons, spilling fluid and naked figures out into the floor. Slowly, one by one the figures found the strength to stand and Izabel gasped at the sight of them.

  “We will have to run more tests. But the patients appear to have returned to their original form…which is human. Very human,” Harbinger said with a smile on his face and tears streaming down his cheeks. The screen went black and this time it stayed black.

  “Oh my God,” Izabel said, still staring at the darkened screen of the datapad. She glanced at the clock on her heads up display. Only twenty minutes had passed since she sat down in the recliner. God, it felt like hours.

  “Have you seen this?” she asked Jedrek.

  “Yes, your father showed it to me the day he hired me,” the wolf answered. Of course, he’s seen it. He had to know what he was protecting, thought Izabel as she closed the steel suitcase and got to her feet.

  “I need to get back to my ship,” she said, moving briskly out of the unit. She was jittery with energy. She knew she had to keep the suitcase safe and she had to resist the urge to cradle the suitcase to her bosom. Jedrek resealed Phaelan’s storage unit and then he unlocked the glass elevator.

  “What do you plan to do with it?” Jedrek asked once they were onboard the elevator.

  “First I’m going to show it to my friend Roe Driskell and then we’re gonna find a way to broadcast it on the News feeds for the whole galaxy to see,” she said.

  The elevator ride back up was just as queasy but this time Izabel managed to keep her eyes open. The doors opened and Izabel started to step out but Jedrek’s outstretched paw stopped her.

  “Wait,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  “I smell something.” His black nostrils flared in and out as he waved his snout through the air. The Frostfang took several tentative steps towards the hoversled and then stopped and looked around. His claws were out, his hackles were up, and his muscles were taut beneath his white fur. He took the protection gig seriously.

  “Well?” Izabel asked from inside the elevator.

  “I guess it was nothing.” He padded over to the hoversled and climbed behind the wheel. Izabel had taken two steps out of the elevator when Jedrek cranked the engine and the hoversled exploded. She saw a giant ball of flame engulf both the hoversled and Jedrek. The force of the blast knocked her off her feet and propelled her backwards through the back wall of the glass elevator. Her flight came to end when she collided with one of the storage units. She had hit her head and her consciousness was fading. Her heads up display began to issue a warning. Through blurry vision, she was able to make it out. Not only had she suffered minor bodily injuries, her thermalskin had also been damaged and the temperature was dropping. Great, she thought. Unable to move, she watched helplessly as a figure in a thermalskin descended from the rafters. Just before she lost consciousness, she saw the figure’s face behind his visor. It was Larkin and the bastard was smiling.

  AUGUSTO

  IT WAS RAINING on Centropolis, had been for two days. Nearly everyone on the planet was rejoicing. Precipitation was down 58% from last year according to the Centropolis weather channel. Augusto couldn't care less about Centropolis’s precipitation levels. Not his planet, not his problem. But he was rejoicing just the same because the presence of rain meant the absence of humidity. Centropolis’s drought was over and so was his. He and the girls made up for lost time by having sex in every room on his yacht. Sometimes it was all three of them, sometimes one of the girls was asleep, and one time he’d caught the girls pleasuring each other without him. He’d made them pay dearly for that. The sex had been a great way to keep his mind off of his father’s antics.

  Augusto untangled himself from Maya’s naked embrace and sat up. Nari was M.I.A but she didn’t sleep well so it wasn’t unusual for her to be the first one up. He rubbed his snout and glanced at the clock. 6:13am. He had to be at the stadium in less than an hour. He showered and got dressed in the outfit one of the girls had laid out for him. Black slacks with a cream colored shirt. Looked like Maya’s taste.

  He found Nari sitting at the breakfast table. She had a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and her datapad in the other. Occupying the placemat across from her was a second cup of coffee and a 4inch by 4inch mirror with a line of Minotaur dust on it. Nari wasn’t much of a cook and he wasn’t big on breakfast, so coffee and his morning morphagen fix suited him just fine. The line of powder disappeared with one big snort and then he leaned back and gave it a second to take hold. The first few seconds always resulted in a burning snout and blurry vision but after that it was pure bliss. He opened his eyes and sipped his coffee.

  His taste buds were still numb but that would dissipate in another few seconds.

  “Thanks for breakfast, bitch.”

  “Anytime, fucker,” Nari said with a smile. Nari thought traditional terms of endearment were a cliché. He tried his coffee again. Not quite there…but better.

  “I saw Paco this morning,” she said without looking up from her datapad.

  “What? When?”

  “He came by about an hour ago,” she said this casually as if his father stopping by unannounced was a normal and acceptable occurrence. He took a large gulp of coffee, not caring if his tongue was ready or not.

  “What’d he want?”

  She sat the datapad down and looked him in the eyes. “To apologize.”

  He snorted.

  “He said he shouldn’t have tried to pull the plug on Silvio’s life support and that he was proud of you for standing up to him.”

  Augusto sat in silence. His father had never apologized to him for anything. Ever.

  “He also made me promise to ask you something,” she said.

  “What do you mean he made you—

  “No, not like that. He didn’t hurt me. Or touch me,” she soothed. Taking his hairy hand in her soft pale one. Augusto’s pulse began to race. Paco had never liked Nari or Maya. If he ever hit either one of them like he had Suzi he’d what? Challenge him? Augusto took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

  “What are you supposed to ask me?” he asked.

  “He wants to tour the Crucible?”

  “I’m not in a joking mood, Nari.” He pulled his hand away from hers and took another gulp of his coffee.

  “I’m not joking, Augusto. Paco was here. I swear.”

  He glared at her, looking for any hint that she was lying. She appeared to be telling the truth.

  “Why would he ask that? He’s never cared. In fact all he’s ever done is mocked the games,” Augusto said.

  “I don’t know. He can’t even bet on the games can he?”

  “No,” Augusto said. Betting on the Crucible games wasn’t illegal. In fact it was encouraged, as long as it wasn’t someone directly involved with the games or their immediate family. Trading inside information was a serious offense against Morphagen Law.

  “Maybe he’s trying to make amends?” Nari suggested.

  “What?”

  “He knows he can’t just say he’s sorry. So maybe he’s just trying to get involved.”

  “Well, it’s too fucking late.” Augusto said, glancing at his watch. 6:48am. If he didn’t leave now, he would be late.

  “I gotta go.” He licked her on the lips with his long tongue and turned towards the door.

  “I’m sorry. Don’t let this ruin your day,” she
said.

  “It won’t. My old man is a fucking liar and a drunk,” he said as he turned the door handle.

  “He wasn’t this morning.”

  Augusto looked back at her. “What do you mean?”

  “He was sober…I know because I’ve never seen him sober.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  Augusto closed the door on the yacht and on all thoughts of his bastard father.

  WHEN PRESENTED WITH a choice to either run The Crucible or detox, approximately fifty-eight percent of strays chose the Crucible and forty-two percent chose detox. Detox was a sure thing and a guaranteed way to stay alive. But you will be a severely deformed undesirable and doomed to live out the rest of your days in slavery. The Crucible is a gamble, that has never paid off. But you get to continue to use morphagens up to the moment of your death and for the more prideful beings it allows them to go out fighting and on their feet, at least in the theory. Many contestants have met a gruesome ending while begging for their life during live Crucible play.

  When Augusto took command of the games five years ago, the percentage of strays that chose the Crucible was at a staggering seventy percent, the highest in Crucible history. On the plus side, viewer ratings were also at an all-time high. It was a double-edged sword. The closer contestants got to winning the games, the more people watched. No one had ever won and everyone wanted to be watching when it happened. But hope was contagious and if someone were to find a way to win, then one-hundred percent of the stray population would chose the Crucible. Which would flood the games with contestants and leave the galaxy with a vast shortage of slaves. A situation that could not be allowed to happen so the Czar had tasked Augusto with finding a way to make the games more challenging without losing viewer ratings. Augusto’s solution had been a genetically altered version of the pit viper that dwelled in the sands of his native Fahrenheit. The snake would bite each contestant at the start of each game and then the venom would work it’s way through their veins while they struggled through the various obstacles towards the antivenin that was at the end of the last obstacle. The idea had worked beautifully. The percentage of strays that chose the Crucible had dropped five percent after the first games and continued to steadily drop before leveling out at the current fifty-eight percent and not only did the viewer ratings not decrease after Augusto’s addition of the reptile, they increased. It had been the crowning achievement of Augusto’s career as Crucible Administrator.

  Now in the final days of preparation, the damn pit viper was dying.

  One of the snake’s two heads was already dead and the other one was sure to follow. As if preparation for this quarter’s games hadn’t been difficult enough.

  “Well?” Augusto said, standing behind Rickard Markham, the lead chemist for Valdez Industries, who was hunched over the table and examining the dying reptile through a microscope. He was a Chromey and very old. The sheen on his metallic skin wasn’t as bright as it once was. During his prime, Markham was considered the greatest chemist in the galaxy. His only rival was Wain Shelley, but Shelley had passed all of his knowledge onto Kariah Slade. Now Slade was considered by most, including Augusto, to be the best chemist in the galaxy.

  “The snake is most assuredly dying,” responded Markham.

  “I know that, Rickard. Can you clone a new one?”

  “No. The DNA strand cannot be replicated outside of Slade Labs.”

  “Meaning what exactly?” Augusto asked.

  “You need Kariah Slade.”

  “Then get her,” Augusto said.

  “I already tried Augusto. They told me she was unavailable.”

  “Unavailable!” He pounded his furry fist against the tabletop. His phone rang. He intended to ignore it until he realized it was his emergency line. He glanced at the caller ID. It was Maya. Again. She had been trying to reach him all day on the regular line. She knew that the final days before the opening ceremonies of the Crucible were some of the most hectic. But if she had discovered the emergency line and decided to go ahead and use it, then he would probably regret ignoring it.

  Sighing, he unclipped the phone from his hip.

  “Yeah?” he said.

  “I’m sorry Augusto,” cried Maya, “I tried to stop them.”

  “What? What are you talking about?” Augusto asked, plugging his other ear with his finger.

  “They were armed. They said they would shoot me if I interfered,” Maya said.

  “Wait. Maya slow down. Who was armed?”

  “Centropolis PD. They came to the yacht and they arrested Nari.”

  “What the hell for?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know,” she cried.

  “God, damnit!”

  “I’m sorry,” Maya cried. Augusto forced himself to calm down and save his rage. He didn’t need to take it out on Maya. He didn’t know what the hell had had happened. But he was certain that it wasn’t her fault.

  “I’m sorry too. It’s not your fault,” he told her. “Did they take her to the station?”

  “I think so.”

  “Okay, I’ll take care of this,” he said.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you too.” He hung up.

  “I’ll be back. Find me Kariah Slade,” he told Markham.

  IT TOOK AUGUSTO nearly thirty minutes to get to the Centropolis’s police station. The skies were heavy with all the galactic travelers coming in for The Crucible.

  “Augusto Valdez to see Nari Andrews,” Augusto said to the Centaur standing behind the reception desk.

  “Just a moment,” said the Centaur as he picked up the phone to call for approval most likely. Augusto paced nervously across the prison waiting area. He couldn’t help it.

  “Mr. Valdez?”

  “Yes,” he said to the Centaur prison guard who had appeared from the hall.

  “Follow me and I’ll show you to Miss Andrew’s cell,” said the jailer.

  Augusto nodded and the Centaur turned and trotted down the hall. His hooves clacking loudly on the polished floors. Augusto expected to see other prisoners occupying the cells as they made their way to Nari’s cell. It was a prison after all and Centropolis was a big planet. But what he wasn’t expecting was to see Kariah Slade occupying one of those cells. He’d only spoken to her face-to-face a handful of times and her hair was much shorter than the last time he’s seen her. But it was her. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind. Apparently unavailable was the polite way of saying incarcerated. He was still wondering what the wife of Magnus Slade had done to get arrested when he arrived at Nari’s cell.

  “Five minutes,” said the jailer as he unlocked the cell and let Augusto in.

  Nari rushed into his arms and began to cry.

  “What happened?” he asked when she managed to get her sobs under control.

  “I’m sorry Augusto,” she answered, “I fucked up.”

  “I would have to agree with you. Considering we’re having this conversation inside a jail cell.”

  “This wasn’t my fault,” she said, pushing him away from her.

  “Okay. Then who’s fault was it?” he asked.

  “It was your father’s!” she yelled.

  Knots cramped his stomach.

  “What does he have to do with this?” he asked.

  She stepped closer to him and spoke in a lower voice, “Your father invited me to lunch at his yacht…and I went.”

  “What’d you do? Is he alive?” The knots in Augusto’s stomach had knots.

  “Yes, he’s alive. It’s not like that!”

  “Then what’s it like Nari?”

  “I gave him a tour of the Crucible. He asked me which obstacle to bet on…” A single tear replaced her words.

  “No…Nari.”

  “I thought he was trying to make amends. But you were right. I should’ve listened to you.” Her tears were coming more freely now.

  “What’d he do?” Augusto asked.

  “He…uh…ratted me out right the
n and there. He was wearing a wire and he had a couple of four-legger cops waiting to haul my ass to jail!”

  Augusto pinched the bridge of his snout in an effort to keep the newly formed migraine from reaching his brain.

  “What are we gonna do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I don’t have a fucking clue.”

  “Time’s up Mr. Valdez,” said the jailer when he reappeared.

  “Okay,” Augusto said.

  Nari threw her arms around him and hugged him fiercely.

  “Don’t let them detox me, Auggie,”she pleaded. He gently grabbed her chin so that he could look into her eyes.

  “I won’t. I promise,” he said. He licked the slide of her face and then he left the cell.

  He stood outside the police station with clenched fists. His whole body shook with rage. First Silvio and now Nari, there was no limit to the depths that his bastard father would sink to provoke him into challenging him. Nari had been accused of a crime by a recognized Druglord. There would be a trial and they had evidence of her trading inside information about the games. All his father had to do was say that he had suspicions of inside trading and he had acted accordingly to secure the evidence. Nari would be sentenced to Detox and he himself would most likely be investigated as well. Augusto sighed heavily and leaned against the wall. His father had won. He had to challenge. It was the only way to save Nari. He had to best his father in mortal combat and then as the new ruler of Valdez Industries he could grant pardons and drop charges against anyone he liked.

  AUGUSTO COULD HEAR the woman’s squeals of ecstasy as he mounted the steps to his father’s luxury cruiser. Augusto’s lips curled upwards in a sneer at the knowledge that he was going to interrupt the old fuck’s sexual escapade. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, he raised his hoof and kicked the door. It flew open in a satisfying explosion of splinters. He stormed in and saw that his father had an Emerald Enforcer bent over the table and was taking her from behind. The Mermaid stood on two legs that were as bare as the rest of her. She looked over her shoulder at him with green startled eyes.