by J G Cressey
Toker grinned. “Dirty chicks it is.”
The Lucky Deuce gambling hall was a colossal space filled to the brim with booze, fighting, naked flesh, and of course gambling. Numerous pole dancing stages on which countless shiny girls slivered under a neon glow seedily graced the center of the hall. Cal could see a struggling man who’d been tied, gagged, and suspended above the nearest strip stage. A large sign was strapped to his chest, stating, “Touch flesh without paying, an’ you’ll be joining me.” Enforcing the threat, hulking bouncers garbed in black, stab-proof clothing roamed the bars, occasionally dishing out blows to the back of troublemaking heads with shock-sticks.
Looking up, Cal saw countless egg-shaped pleasure pods hanging from the high ceiling. Each of them had a translucent tube lift coiling up to it, most of which seemed less than secure. In one of the lifts, he spotted a man who’d become jammed halfway up. No one seemed bothered that the poor soul looked close to death.
“Maybe we should have ignored the dirty chicks,” Toker mumbled as the six of them stood on the rickety entrance platform that overlooked the hall.
“Looking at a place like this kind of makes me wish we were alone,” Jumper added.
“Not much of a reintroduction to the human race for you, Jumper,” Cal said. He’d almost forgotten that, for the last few decades, his old friend was only used to looking at a handful of people at most. “But now we’re here, I guess we should make the most of it,” he said, rubbing his hands together in a lackluster attempt to rustle up some enthusiasm. “I’m going to see if I can weed out some useful info.”
“I’ll come with you,” Jumper said, sounding less than optimistic but giving Cal a slap on the back nonetheless.
Despite probably being way out of his comfort zone, Cal was pleased to see that his old friend seemed as cool and collected as ever. “Good. The rest of you have fun exploring,” he said, sounding a little more like a parent than he’d have liked. “Viktor, it’s probably best you stick close to Melinda.”
The boy nodded. “I wouldn’t let her wander around a place like this without an escort.”
“Well, quite. Everyone, try and stay out of trouble, eh?” Cal said, shooting one last deliberate glance at Eddy and Toker before strolling off.
Cal and Jumper searched for a good hour among the rowdy crowds for someone willing to discuss Earth’s destruction. After some spilt drinks, a few near miss fights, and a myriad of expletives, they finally discovered their man. Nick Rail had once been the captain of The Swan Queen, a class one pleasure cruiser that had left Earth space only a few minutes before the planet met its end. After a brief introduction, Nick led them through the noisy hordes to a relatively quiet section of the gambling hall. Here, they found an area of enclosed booths where the people were at least eating more than they were drinking. Selecting the least overlooked booth, they sat and began to talk.
“What d’you want to know?” Nick asked as he buried his fingers into a bowl of nuts.
“Everything…from the beginning,” Cal said, refusing an offer of the damp-looking nuts with a forced smile and a raised hand.
“The beginning of the end,” Nick mumbled.
Cal liked the look of the former captain. He had intelligent eyes, but it was plain to see that he was physically and mentally exhausted. Whatever stresses he’d endured over the past months had obviously taken their toll.
“We know that Earth was destroyed,” Jumper informed him, “but not by who…or what.”
“My God, where’ve you guys been living, a jungle?”
“Yes,” Jumper replied.
Nick made a lackluster attempt at a smile before continuing. “It was an alien race called Carcarrions, or so I’m told.” Nick shifted uncomfortably. “Came straight towards Earth in three of the biggest ships I’ve ever seen…monstrous cubes, each bigger than this city if you can believe it. They obliterated Earth without the slightest warning.”
“Impossible,” Cal said with a sudden sinking feeling. Maybe they didn’t have their man after all. “You’ve been misinformed. I know of the Carcarrions; they’re a primitive race, practically still living in caves.”
“So I’ve heard,” Nick replied, shooting them a look that suggested he’d heard those particular words a thousand times before. “But my ship somehow escaped the attack as did thirty or forty others. Every one of those ships managed to run scans of the attacking crafts before they struck. They only picked up one life form: Carcarrions.”
Cal’s brow creased. “Maybe the scanners were fooled.”
Nick shrugged.
“How did you escape?”
“They ignored us as if we were insignificant. There were a few military ships that tried to counterattack, but they were ignored too. Their weapons deflected like pinballs. Once Earth was destroyed, the military ships fled like the rest of us. I’m not sure where.” Nick flicked a nut into his mouth. “I don’t know where these Carcarrions found their technology, but it was certainly a damned sight more advanced than ours.”
“So you witnessed the actual destruction?”
Nick nodded and stared down at his hands. “My ship had just left Earth’s airspace. We were set for a three-month voyage to the Pentelain Moons. If those bastard Carcarrions hadn’t been so fixated on destroying the planet, I very much doubt I’d be here talking to you now. Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t. Let me tell you, witnessing the destruction of your home planet is something no man, woman, or child should ever have to endure.”
The three men sat in silence for a time. Cal’s brain was reeling with the information. None of it made any sense.
“Have there been any sightings of these Carcarrions since?” Jumper asked.
“No. I’ve heard rumours of attacks on larger colonies and some of the military bases at about the same time that Earth was destroyed, but they’re only rumours, nothing trustworthy. All I know for certain is that they destroyed Earth, and no one I’ve talked to has seen them since. The fear still remains though. People arriving from other colonies say there’s a lot of paranoia, even panic, that the attackers might return to finish the job.”
Cal could understand such fears. But for the invaders to attack and destroy all human colonies would be one hell of a task. Since the Federation had been formed over three hundred years ago, thousands of life-supporting planets had been colonized, and thousands more terraformed.
“What about the military? Any messages from them? Strategies? Re-grouping?”
Nick let out a humourless laugh and shook his head. “You guys really are out of the loop, aren’t you? All long-range communications are dead. The tech has just stopped working. Nothing coming in, nothing going out. I’ve heard no one give a convincing reason why, and I’ve heard a lot of very smart people discussing it. The only thing they seem to able to agree on is that the transmissions went down around the same time as the attack. Certainly no coincidence.” Nick scooped the last few nuts out of the bowl.
Cal rubbed his head in frustration. “What about the military starships or bases? Has anyone had any physical communication with them?”
“Just more rumors, I’m afraid. Impossible to confirm.”
“Indulge us.”
Nick shrugged again. “Word’s going around that all military bases and starships are abandoned. Some say they’ve spotted the starships clustered together, crew-less, drifting aimlessly through space. If you ask me, it’s probably just lies from people who get a kick out of spreading fear. There’s plenty of those types around here.”
“You mean the crews abandoned the ships?” Jumper asked.
“Who knows? Like I said, they’re just rumors, unconfirmed.”
“There’s no way entire military crews would abandon their ships. Some would rather die,” Cal said. “Being clustered together makes sense though, especially with long-range transmissions down. Protocol would be to converge at certain prearranged points—strength in numbers.”
“I hope you’re right,” Nick said solemnly. “We
’re going to need people like that to stand a chance at getting some order back. Even with the threat possibly gone, things are spinning out of control fast.”
“How d’you mean?” Jumper asked.
“Criminals taking advantage is what I mean. With the military dead in the water and the communication problems, we’ve got ourselves a perfect environment for chaos, and chaos feeds chaos. It’s exponential. Most residing on the colonies are decent folk, but there’s countless others roaming space with pirate ethics. From what I hear, they’re already taking advantage, and it’s only likely to get worse.”
Cal shot Jumper a concerned glance. The so-called facts concerning the attack on Earth didn’t add up. But he couldn’t deny the likelihood of civilization spiralling out of control very quickly. Pirates had proved a serious problem even before the chaos had begun.
“You want my advice,” Nick said, pushing the empty bowl of nuts away, “get the hell away from this hole and search out another colony. This place will eat up your body, then your mind, then make a start on your soul.”
“We need no convincing,” Cal replied. The man didn’t seem the type to over-dramatize.
“Why do you stay here?” Jumper asked.
“Because I was a fool. My crew and I were conned into giving up our ship.”
“Conned?”
Nick gave a quick scan of the surrounding booths then leaned forward before continuing. “Listen to me: If you’ve got a decent-sized ship, the guy that owns this place, I mean the whole damn city, he’s going to want it, an’ he’ll probably do near anything to get it.”
Cal glanced again at Jumper. None of this was shaping up well, and he had a bad feeling that time wasn’t on their side. “Don’t worry about us; we won’t be staying long. We appreciate your help. If you need a ride out of here, we can take you to the next decent colony.”
“Thanks, but no,” Nick said without hesitation. “Forty-nine crew and three hundred and ninety-eight passengers are stuck here because of my foolishness. They were my responsibility, and I failed them. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be taking no easy ticket out of here.”
Cal answered with a silent nod. He admired the man’s dedication to his passengers and crew. He wished he could give them all an easy ticket out of the city, but it would be impossible. Big Blue was certainly large enough to hold that amount of people, but with the slow engines, the next colony would be weeks of travel away. Even if they could somehow get enough supplies, the huge cargo ship simply wasn’t designed to cater for more than a handful of crew.
Before the conversation could continue any further, Nick swore under his breath and became noticeably paler. Cal followed the man’s line of sight to see two brutish men approaching the booth. From the black clothing they wore and the shock sticks nestled in their meaty fingers, Cal guessed them to be bouncers.
Twisting in his seat, Cal shot the two brutes a wide smile. “Three Alvorian ales, and another bowl of these delicious nuts if you would,” he said, sliding the empty bowl towards them. One of the brutes looked amused at that, or possibly, he was just looking forward to what was to come. The more fierce-looking of the two men gave his bald head a quick scratch with the end of his shock stick before pointing it menacingly at Cal and Jumper. “Gonna have to come with us,” he grunted, his expression suggesting he was hoping for some sort of refusal.
Cal glanced at Nick; the man’s eyes were full of warning. He answered the warning with a shrug. “Well, I guess our time’s up then, eh?” he said cheerily, offering Nick his hand. “Best of luck, old friend. Always good to catch up.”
“Yes, best of luck to you too,” Nick replied, gripping Cal’s hand and giving it a firm shake. “Mind how you go, old friend.”
Giving their new acquaintance one last nod of thanks, both Cal and Jumper stood and calmly stepped from the booth. As they did so, Cal pondered the possible nature of the con that had stranded Nick Rail, his crew, and all of his passengers in this violent pit. He had the distinct feeling that he’d soon be finding out whether he wanted to or not. Giving Jumper a casual slap on the back, the two of them followed the brutes out of the seating area and off through the parting crowds.
With its combination of dented, blood-stained walls and its overwhelming stench of urine, Cal decided that the corridor he and Jumper were being led down was the least pleasant he’d ever witnessed. In front of them, another heavyset bouncer opened a side door, through which he shoved a reluctant drunk. As they approached, Cal saw the words Waiting Room printed across the door, which, intentionally or not, had been underlined by a long smear of blood. With some assistance from their brutish escorts, he and Jumper followed the path of the reluctant drunk.
The room they found themselves in was less a waiting room and more a prison cell. The majority of its occupants were unconscious, sprawled on the floor amid sticky cocktails of blood, urine, and sick. Of those who were conscious, some busily paced back and forth, fists clenched, perhaps unsatisfied with the conclusion of a recent fight. Others simply stared into space, various parts of their anatomies in spasm—possibly the result of one too many days nestled in a pleasure pod. Two of the occupants, however, sat quietly in the corner, doing nothing more than looking solemn: Eddy and Toker.
Cal and Jumper made their way over to the sorry looking pair.
Jumper shook his head. “Get lost?”
“Idiot spilled his drink on some big fella,” Eddy mumbled, nodding at Toker, who was sporting an impressive black eye.
“Yeah, an’ I was trying to apologize to the guy when this one,” Toker said, nodding sharply back at Eddy, “went and launched herself at him.”
“I was backing you up, you ungrateful sod. The bloke was obviously lookin’ for a fight. I just thought I’d get in there first, element of surprise, an’ all that.”
“Backing me up!” Toker blurted. “Granted, the guy was a little overly pissed off at having a drink spilled on him, but I get a hunch it was you breaking his nose that started the fight.”
“You gotta be kidding. If I hadn’t got in there first, he’d have planted you one in the face, idiot. Reckon you owe me a drink for that.”
“A drink! Jeeze, girl. Don’t you think I’d have preferred one punch from him than ten from his mates? Guys, she’s nuts,” Toker replied, desperately looking at Cal and Jumper for some acknowledgement of the fact.
“Ungrateful git. Won’t back you up next time then.”
Toker turned back to her, his eyebrows set in a high arch. “That would be great. Would you do me that favor? And while we're on the subject, exactly what part of your brain is it that's missing? The guy you popped was bloody huge, and so were his mates. Wasn't there even one tiny little alarm bell in that empty noggin of yours? Maybe a faint little tinkle suggesting that punching an angry bloke three times your size might not be the brightest of ideas.”
“He wasn't that big, an’ he slept like a baby after I knocked his lights out.”
“He was a flippin’ giant, and he bloody well knocked himself out. The poor bugger tripped and reshaped a table with the back of his head. And damn lucky he did too.”
“Maybe, but it was my rock-solid punch to his honker that made him trip in the first place,” Eddy countered. “So it was me who knocked him out.”
“Alright, granted, you managed to somehow break the guy's bloody great nose, I'll give you that. But it was bewilderment that made him fall. Even a lion might take a pause if it was suddenly turned on by a little psycho gazelle.”
Cal realized he was grinning. The thought of the tiny Eddy getting the better of some giant thug was pretty amusing. He kind of wished he’d seen it.
“We were damn lucky that those bouncers were nearby too,” Toker continued, seeming eager to get his point across. “The guy’s mates would've flattened us otherwise. This one punch,” he jabbed a finger at his black eye, “could've turned out to be fifty. On top of that, any one of them could've been shoved in this cell with us. Did you think about that? Dam
n lucky, I tell you, don't you reckon, Cal? Jumper?” Toker looked up at them, nodding as if it was already unanimously agreed. Then his nod slowed, and his line of sight drifted past them. Something had caused his already low expression to fall quite a bit further.
Cal had a strong hunch of what that something could be. In his experience, the powers that be—or whatever mysterious forces guided the sequences and events of life—had the uncanny ability of throwing things back in your face often instantly. Following Toker’s line of sight, he turned towards the cell door and saw a huge man on the other side of it. The man’s height was so great, it was necessary for him to bow his head before lumbering under the door frame. He even dwarfed the hulking bouncer, who was roughly attempting to guide him inside. The giant man raised his head to reveal a particularly aggressive pair of eyes, beneath which was a large, blood-soaked bandage haphazardly stretched over a recently broken nose.
“Bugger it to hell,” Toker mumbled.
Those aggressive eyes had only scanned the room once before resting in Toker and Eddy’s direction.
Bending around the man's hulking form, the bouncer was now peering into the cell. “You’ll be pleased to see that your friend here has regained consciousness,” he said, directing an amused grin at Toker and Eddy. “I've decided to grant him his wish to be reunited with you kids, that way you can get to finishing up your business.” Before the heavy cell door was slammed shut, Cal spied a silver credit protruding from the bouncer's meaty fist, undoubtedly a bribe from the mean-eyed brute.
Cal regarded the big man. He suspected that any pain caused by the broken nose paled into insignificance next to the crushing blow to the man’s reputation. He’d suffered the ultimate humiliation in front of his friends and all at the flying fist of one petite girl. Unfortunately, the man looked dangerously sober and wickedly pissed off.
“That nose was your handiwork, Eddy?” Cal asked, not taking his eyes off the man.
