Dependent Days

by Chris Sapp

  “Hello, I’m doctor Philip Harbinger,” said the short fat one, “and this is General Warren Pax.” Magnus gasped. He’d expected these strange beings to speak in a foreign tongue.

  “Today, I’m going to be administering the galaxy’s first morphagen tests on these human subjects behind us,” Harbinger explained. Magnus hit the pause button. It popped loudly in the silent room. What did the creature called Harbinger say? Had he said that this was the galaxy’s first morphagen tests? Magnus stared at the frozen image on the screen. Harbinger and his companion were standing in front of nine well-lit chambers enclosed behind plate glass. Inside each chamber was an operating table and strapped to each table was a test subject; four males and five females. Each one was naked, physically fit, and had a roman numeral tattooed on their right shoulder. The nine test subjects appeared to be the same species as Harbinger and the General. Humans, Harbinger, and Morphagens, thought Magnus. He couldn’t believe what his eyes and ears were telling him. He had heard stories of the mythical Harbinger-vid all his life. But once he became a stallion the story of Harbinger and the birth of morphagens had passed into oblivion with the rest of his childhood fantasies. But the story was real and sitting in front of him was the proof. He looked up at the Ramsey girl. She was watching him. Of course she was. She had found the Harbinger-vid and now she was waiting to see what he was going to do with it.

  “Larkin,” he tried to say but his throat was dry and his voice cracked. “Larkin,” he said again. “Put Miss Ramsey in the cell with Driskell and then find your way to my office at Slade Tower. I will join you there momentarily.”

  “Sure,” said the bounty hunter. Larkin pushed himself off the wall towards the elf.

  “Wait! What are you going to do with the vid?” Izabel asked.

  “What Lord Slade does with it is none of your concern,” Larkin said. “Now come on,” He wrapped his long spindly fingers around her arms.

  “You have to show it to the ‘verse! People deserve to know!” Izabel yelled as Larkin forced her out of the room. The bounty hunter closed the door behind them and the elf’s plea echoed in the silence. She was half right. Magnus didn’t know if the whole ‘verse deserved to know. But some people did and he was one of them. Smiling with anticipation, he pressed the play button.

  IZABEL

  LARKIN DRAGGED IZABEL out of interrogation room 3 and down the hall so fast that her feet barely touched the polished floor.

  “Jailor! Open cell five,” Larkin hollered as he floated to a stop in front of Roe’s cell.

  “Larkin you have to go back in there and watch the vid!” Izabel begged.

  “I don’t have to do anything, but go up to Slade Tower and get paid,” Larkin said.

  The jailor opened the cell with a swipe of his security card. Izabel became Roe’s cellmate with one shove from Larkin. The door slammed shut.

  “Please Larkin!” Izabel grabbed the bars with both hands. “The ‘Verse needs to see that video. Phaelan saw it and that’s why he’s dead. They killed him!”

  “Who’s they?” Larkin asked. One bulbous eye stared at her through a curtain of greasy hair.

  “The Morphagen Order!”

  “Slade’s practically a member of the order and judging by his reaction in there, he ain’t ever seen that video until now,” Larkin said.

  “But he knew what it was,” Izabel said. “Larkin you have to help me.”

  “Sorry darlin’. But I’m not about to end up like that.” Larkin pointed a blue finger over her shoulder at Roe who was still lying unconscious on the floor. Larkin pushed off down the hallway and bounded around the corner. Izabel wanted to sink to her knees and cry but she forced herself to turn around and cross the cell to where Roe was. A putrid odor assaulted her nostrils as she got closer. Black smoke rose steadily from a smoldering wound on his leg. Fenixborns could recover from anything. Hell, they could even cheat death. So, why wasn’t Roe healing? She knelt next to him, careful to avoid kneeling in his smoldering ashes. She waved the smoke away and inspected the wound. The skin around the wounds was gray and featherless.The stench was awful. It was seared flesh combined with decay. Then it hit her. Not only was Roe not healing. He was suffering from gangrene. How was this possible? She had to try to wake him.

  “Roe! Roe!” She said. The Fenixborn didn’t stir. His eyes remained closed.

  “Roe!” She said with more force. Again there was no reaction. The only sign that he was even alive was the steady rise and fall of his chest. But how long would that last? Roe seemed more dead now than when she’d found him in the alley behind Spanky’s. The memory of finding Roe in that alley caused her to recall how they had gotten out of that dilemma. Fenix Tails. Roe had needed to smoke like eight cigarettes before he could walk. She searched the pockets of his pants and shirt. She checked his trench coat. But the Fenix Tails were nowhere to be found. Damn. They must’ve been confiscated.

  “Roe! Wake Up!” She yelled desperately. “Wake Up! Roe!” She pounded angrily on his chest as the levy that was keeping her emotions in check broke. “Please Roe! Wake Up. I need you!”

  “Stop hitting me,” he rasped. It was so quiet that at first Izabel thought her imagination was playing tricks on her. But Roe’s eyes were open. His crystal orbs reflecting all the dim colors of their cell.

  “Roe!” She gasped. “What happened? Your wounds aren’t healing?”

  “And they won’t until I can remove the blade.”

  “Why?” She asked.

  “Because the knife was laced with a gangrene toxin.” Roe slowly sat up and then gingerly scooted backwards on his behind until his spine was pressed against the wall.

  “Holy shit. Where would someone get something like that?”

  “Prototype of Slade Labs,” Roe said.

  Izabel’s hatred for Slade Enterprises was growing stronger with every word.

  “So how do we get them out?”

  “Don’t worry about that. What happened on Arktikus?” Roe said reaching into his pocket for his Fenix Tails.

  “Your smokes aren’t there. They must’ve taken them,” Izabel said.

  He nodded.

  “Your thermalskin is torn to hell. Are you going to tell me a story or not?” He asked.

  “Vera was right. I found the Harbinger-vid. It was hidden in my daddy’s storage unit.”

  “Really? Was there any security?” Roe asked.

  “Yeah. There was a Frostfang named Jedrek that supposedly worked for the storage company but he was actually hired by my dad.”

  “What about the lock on the unit itself? Was it encrypted?”

  A smile formed on Izabel’s face. “Big time. Instead of your standard keypad entry there was a guitar.”

  “You’re shitting me. The keypad was a guitar?” Roe asked.

  “Yes, life-size. I had to play “Guts Over Glory” with a freaking credit coin. It’s a seven minute long song and I couldn’t miss a single chord.”

  “Like father like daughter,” Roe smiled. “So what was on the vid?”

  Izabel looked around before answering. Then in a hushed tone she said, “It was incredible. It showed these creatures called humans. They’re two-leggers. But their faces are a mix between Merfolk and Centaur. Dr. Harbinger was one of them too. He was the scientist that invented morphagens. He injected nine humans and then each one transformed into a different species, species from our universe.”

  “Wait a minute,” Roe said. “This Dr. Harbinger transformed these human creatures into beings like us by injecting them with morphagens?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Why do you say Harbinger invented morphagens? Maybe these humans were from another galaxy and Harbinger was more like a dealer and he just supplied the humans with morphagens.”

  “No. I don’t believe that. There was another human creature there. He was called General something. He was the authority and Harbinger was showing him the effects of the morphagens. Plus, when you create something, like a song for instance y
ou get this dire urge to share it with people and if you’re lucky enough to share it with people that enjoy it as much as you…there’s no feeling in the ‘Verse like it. I saw that look on Harbinger’s face. He’s the creator of morphagens.”

  “Alright. Did the vid show anything else?”

  “Oh yeah. Once the morphagens—

  “Damn, Driskell. I thought you were dead.”

  The sound of the voice startled Izabel but not the identity. She knew who it was. She turned and saw Larkin hovering in the corridor outside their cell. That bitch Vi was with him. The jailor opened the cell and Vi strolled in. Larkin followed. He had a sawed off shotgun in his hand and it was aimed at them.

  “If either one of them makes a run for it, shoot them,” Vi said.

  “With pleasure,” Larkin said.

  “On your feet,” Vi instructed.

  “What’s going on?”Izabel asked as she stood and then helped Roe to his feet. A fresh wave of smoke laced with the stench of rotting infected flesh spilled out of his wound.

  “You’ve broken Morphagen Law and you’re being taken to the C. D. F. for your crimes. Hands behind your back,” Vi answered.

  “What? Where’s Lord Slade?” Izabel asked.

  “Lord Slade is the one who has sentenced you,” Vi said as she spun Izabel around and handcuffed her hands behind her back.

  “Did he watch the vid?” Izabel asked.

  “You gave the vid to Slade?” Roe asked.

  “No. Larkin did. After he took it from me.” Izabel said.

  “Hands behind your back Driskell,” Vi said. Roe’s talons clacked noisily on the cement as he gave his back to Vi by hobbling around on his good leg. With each of their hands shackled they were unceremoniously herded into the corridor and then towards the front of the police station. Roe stayed silent and she decided to follow his lead.

  Vi’s cruiser was parked on the landing pad outside the police station entrance. The back hatch was open and Petro and Flynn, each armed with a shotgun, stood next to the extended ramp. Flynn glared at her with murderous eyes. She fought the urge to give him the finger. Roe and Izabel were marched up the ramp and forced into separate cages. It was her third time to occupy a cell in less than an hour. The sound of the cages being slammed shut was deafening in the spacious cargo hold. She remained standing but Roe sat with his head hung low. The amount of smoke and fire embers wafting through the bars of his prison worried her. She had approximately a gallon and half of blood inside her body. Giants had nearly five. They could only lose about fifteen percent of that before they bled out. How long could Roe continue to smolder before he burned out forever? The floor vibrated as the engines whined to life. She pressed her back against the cell and gripped the bar with both hands as the cruiser took flight. The trip to the C. D. F. was quick but lonely. Larkin watched them like a hawk from his perch above Roe’s cage. His ten toes were splayed wide and smashed against the ship’s hull like suction cups. He didn’t sing this time. Izabel was grateful. But the bounty hunter occupied his time by trying to spit his zero G juice onto Roe. If he missed you heard a wet splash. If he didn’t, you heard him chuckle. There were more chuckles than splashes.

  “Stop it,” Izabel said.

  “Unless you want to be my next target I suggest you shut your trap,” Larkin warned. Roe had no reaction at all. He seemed to be oblivious to everything around him. He never moved. He could be asleep but Izabel feared the worst. Her only hope was the slow steady rise of his breathing that she glimpsed through the charcoal colored haze. She concentrated all of her thoughts on Roe because she didn’t want to think about anything else. Especially not her current situation or her future which was as black as Roe’s smoke. She didn’t know if Slade had watched the datapac. How could he not? But it didn’t matter because obviously he’d decided not to share it with the ‘Verse and now anyone who knew about it was going to be silenced by detox. She closed her eyes against the sting of hot tears. Her father had sacrificed his life to show the galaxy the truth. He knew the odds of his success, which was why he’d left a trail of breadcrumbs for her to follow. But all she had done was gather up the crumbs and hand them over to the bad guys.

  “I’m sorry daddy. I failed you,” she whispered.

  Izabel had to grab the bar again when they landed. A few minutes later the back hatch opened. A harsh green light spilled into the cargo hold swallowing the darkness. Larkin wiped the Zero G residue off his chin and descended to the floor. Roe still hadn’t moved.

  Vi sauntered in. Each clack of the vampyr’s boot heels against the floor sent a fresh wave of rage through Izabel.

  “Out,” Vi said as she opened Izabel’s cage. For a brief second Izabel thought about blind rushing her captor. But how much damage could she inflict with her hands shackled behind her back? Plus Larkin and his sawed off weren’t far away. But on the other hand, death by shotgun would be quick. In the end her desire for a quick death was overruled by her instincts to survive. She exited the cage and stood still in the center of the cargo hold. She watched as Vi opened Roe’s cage.

  “On your feet Driskell,” Vi said. Roe issued no response. Not even a muscle twitch.

  “On your feet!” Vi hollered. She gave the motionless bounty hunter a swift kick in the leg which caused a fresh cloud of smoke to rise into the air. But Roe remained seated.

  “Maybe he croaked?” Larkin ventured.

  “He’s not dead. If he was dead he’d be a pile of ash.” Vi said. Izabel didn’t understand. If he wasn’t dead then what was he doing? Was he pretending to be asleep like a child?

  “Okay, Driskell.” Vi drew the pistol from her hip and pressed the muzzle against Izabel’s temple. “You’ve got to the count of three and then this elf’s going to be as dead as you’re pretending to be.”

  Roe didn’t react.

  “One.”

  Nothing.

  “Two.”

  Izabel expected Roe to open his eyes and save her. But he didn’t. It was if he was truly oblivious to what was happening around him. The countdown could’ve just as easily been to the end of the galaxy, instead of her life.

  “Thr—

  “Stop,” Roe said. Vi obliged. Izabel heard the audible click of the trigger sliding forward into place. Roe opened his eyes.

  “On your feet,” Vi said, still holding her gun to Izabel’s head.

  Exhaling, Roe stood and hobbled out of the cage and stood next to Izabel.

  “March,” Vi ordered.

  They trudged forward out of the ship. Larkin hovered above them every step of the way.

  “I thought you were going to let that bitch shoot me,” Izabel said to Roe.

  “Sorry. I went into a healing trance and I had a hard time coming out of it.”

  “Oh.” She looked at the smoke and fire embers swirling around them as they descend the ramp. “Did it help?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Izabel had never been to the Centropolis Detox Facility before but it was very similar to the one on San Andreas. Which she had visited in high school on a class field trip as part of the Detox Avoidance and Reporting Education or D.A.R.E program. The facility which was powered by giant thrusters floated high in the clouds above Centropolis. It was made up of two holding pens that were two hundred yards wide by five hundred yards long. The walls were fifty feet tall and there were five of them; four on each side and one in the middle separating the two pens. There were ten loading docks; four dedicated to receiving on the north side of the facility, four for shipping on the south side, and two more for receiving on the east and west. Large transport carriers full of strays would land on the receiving docks and unload their cargo. The strays were herded out of the transport ships and forced into a single file line for processing. Upon reaching the front of the line, each stray had their palm scanned so that their identity could be confirmed in the Morphagen Order’s database and then they were tagged by an Injector Gun, that implanted a tracking device deep in their skin. After being scanned
and tagged the condemned were forced to stand on a two foot wide metal plank that extended out over the first holding pen. The plank was six feet long and could hold three to five undesirables at once, depending on the combination of species occupying the plank. With the pull of a lever, the plank retracted and anyone standing on it fell fifty feet into a pool of black tar. The tar was thick and rendered each undesirable immobile. Which, was a plus if the undesirable couldn’t swim but it also kept them from trying to escape. They remained cemented in the tar and waited for their bodies to morph into detox cocoons. Once that happened the cocoons were plucked out of the tar by automated cranes. The crane would remove the cocoons from the first holding pen and place them in the second. Instead of tar the second pen was filled with boiling water. Despite their considerable weight, the cocoons didn’t sink to the bottom, they floated. Much like a small bag filled with water will float in a larger body of water. There were six loading docks attached to the second pen. Four of them were the shipping docks located on the south side and the remaining two were receiving docks. These were located on the east and west walls of the second pen and they were reserved for transport carriers that were hauling undesirables that had already morphed into detox cocoons. A second set of cranes would remove the cocoons from the transports and deposit them in the appropriate pen. The boiling water served two purposes; one it cleansed the tar off the fleshy husk of the cocoons and two it caused the cocoons to heat up until they burst open. Much like a hot dog will explode when its overheated in a microwave oven. Once the cocoons hatched, the severely disfigured undesirables were snatched out of the boiling water and hauled screaming and crying over to the transport carriers that occupied the docks dedicated for shipping. Each transport could hold a hundred undesirables. Once they were at maximum capacity they were shipped to Terra Gigas where they were sold into slavery to the highest bidder. It was a flawless system and each planet had at least one that operated all day and all night.