by J G Cressey
“Where's he off to?” the guard asked, picking himself up and brushing down his uniform. “He’s certainly not catching them now.”
Dalton heaved himself back into his chair and dabbed at his bloody nose. “He's not going after the ship, you idiot. He's going to hammer his fists into your fellow dim-witted guards out in the hangar.”
Silently agreeing with the security officer’s assessment, Meeks gave into his curiosity and ran through the door after his boss.
Meeks scuttled along the metal floor in a futile attempt to catch up with his boss. The big man was setting quite a pace considering his size, but there was no mistaking his destination. As he neared the Star Splinter’s docking bay, Meeks felt quite taken aback by the life-size hologram looming above him. Surely, Hogmeyer was mistaken; it seemed so real, so solid and heavy, with lights and detailed reflections bouncing off its hull. It even cast a shadow, for Christ’s sake.
Meeks slowed his pace. Ahead, Hogmeyer had skidded to a halt beside one of the ship’s bulky rear landing supports. Deciding to observe from a safe distance, Meeks watched as the big man took a swipe at the support, his fist passing clean through as if by magic. Wheezing, Meeks risked stumbling a little closer before catching sight of his boss’ face. It was hideously contorted with rage. Christ, he’s really bloody lost it. Not wanting to get too close to such a face, Meeks stopped dead in his tracks.
Seconds later, the big man was off again, but this time, Meeks didn’t follow. Instead, he bent over and clutched at the stitch in his side, all the while straining his neck in order to observe. Anger-fuelled, Hogmeyer was running full tilt to the very center of the ship’s phantom shadow. Then, barely missing a step, he swung his booted foot at a small, pyramid-shaped device that was nestled on the floor. Meeks almost fell over with surprise as the little device went spinning across the docking bay, taking the large, silver hologram of a ship with it. He sucked in a sharp breath as the ship passed harmlessly through numerous loading vehicles as well as one of the hangar’s massive support pillars.
Once the hologram had spun out of view, Hogmeyer turned and came striding back towards him. Meeks felt the last of his amusement melt away to be replaced by a spark of fear. The big man’s expression suggested that any power for rational thought was now hopelessly overwhelmed by unadulterated, animalistic rage. Meeks felt a sudden urge to turn and run. But then the big man’s wrath-filled attentions turned towards the nearest guard, a man with the terrible misfortune of being posted in the closest proximity to the Star Splinter’s docking bay. Tentatively, Meeks pursued. His amusement might have been bullied away by fear, but his curiosity lingered.
Strangely, the guard was grinning. Without a word, Hogmeyer clamped an unforgiving hand around the man’s neck, causing his head to slam nosily against the pillar at which he was standing. Stranger still, the guard’s grin remained.
“My ship, my bloody ship,” Hogmeyer snarled, spittle firing from his contorted mouth. “I'm gonna rip your worthless head off, you pathetic, useless scum.” The big man’s crimson, sweat-beaded face was practically touching the guard’s, which in stark contrast was rapidly turning blue. “Why are you still fucking grinning?”
Meeks suddenly felt an urge to be helpful, purely to remind his enraged boss whose side he was on. “He looks drugged,” he suggested quietly, making sure he remained a good ten feet from the violence. “I'd be willing to lay a bet they all are.”
Hogmeyer ignored him or possibly wasn’t even aware of him. Removing his hand from the man's neck, Hogmeyer proceeded to strike the guard with all his considerable might. Rather than collapsing to the ground, as would have been expected after receiving such blows, the guard simply sagged and began to giggle, a little blood bubbling from his still-grinning mouth. Meeks winced and backed up another couple of steps. The guard’s pulse rifle looked to be hanging at an awkward angle, and there was a length of white cord dangling from his left wrist.
Hogmeyer looked at the cord. “What…” His rage began to subside to confusion. Roughly grabbing the guard's arm, he lifted it to see more white cord binding the man’s right hand to his weapon's grip. “What…” he repeated dumbly as he pulled at the guard’s shoulder. Numerous large, metal pins were clamping the man's armoured vest to the pillar, holding him more or less upright. Hogmeyer’s eyes grew wide as the full realization of the situation took hold, the sheer disbelief seeming to burn away the last of his adrenalin-fuelled rage. Meeks curiously shuffled forward. He wasn’t quite sure whether to run, laugh, or maybe even offer a few words of consolation.
His rage now dissipated, Hogmeyer began to pant like a fat, overheated dog. Releasing his grip on the giggling guard, he stumbled back a few steps and simply stared as he tried to regain his breath. After some time, the panting finally eased, and the big man’s face turned from bright crimson back to ruddy.
Feeling uneasy in the silence that followed, Meeks opened his mouth to speak, but his boss beat him to it. “No one’s to hear about this, Meeks.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “Not a word uttered.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Not a bloody word,” he repeated, turning to face him. His usually cold, hard eyes looked tired and bloodshot.
“Not a word, sir. I swear it.”
Seemingly satisfied with his sincerity, Hogmeyer nodded and turned to stare at the distant launch bay and the black, star-studded space beyond. “That's the very last time anyone takes something from me.”
Feeling a little confused by the situation, Meeks felt his curiosity getting the better of him. “Forgive me for asking, sir, but I'm still a little lost. What exactly happened to the Delta Pinpoint ship?”
The big man exhaled heavily, seemingly too exhausted to be angry or annoyed. “It’s cloaked. The heap of junk is still in its bloody docking bay with its cloaking device activated.”
Meek's stared in the direction that Hogmeyer was lazily waving his limp fist. He could just about make out a transparent, jelly-like blur in the opposite docking bay. “Yes… I think I see it.”
As if lobotomised, Hogmeyer remained silent and continued to stare through the opening of the distant launch bay.
“One more question, sir, if I may?”
“What, Meeks?” Hogmeyer rasped, finally tearing his eyes from the launch bay to eyeball him. “What is it that your pathetic little brain can't grasp?”
Feeling a surge of annoyance, Meeks smoothed his hair and went on regardless. “That backup plan of yours, the golden die that the girl was whirling about her head.” Meeks was about to inquire as to the range of the remote trigger when the sudden look of horror on Hogmeyer's face killed the question in his throat.
Before the little accountant knew what was happening, Hogmeyer was barging him aside and bolting back across the hangar. Meeks stumbled over and hit the deck in a clatter of limbs. Suddenly aware of the danger, he wasted no time picking himself up and scrambling off as fast as his smooth office shoes would permit. Neither he nor the big man had run very far, however, before a deafening explosion erupted behind them. The force was so great that the reverberating tremble was felt throughout the city from the peaks of the first class viewing domes to the sewers of the lower class slum pits.
The shock wave that rippled out from the exploding Pinpoint ship treated Hogmeyer and Meeks equally. Lifting the two men off their feet, it launched them several meters through the air then sent them sliding painfully across the smooth, metallic floor.
Moments later, the hangar was still. Not a sound could be heard other than the crackle of burning ships and loading equipment. His vision blurry, all Meeks could see was his boss’ prone form next to him. The big man wasn’t moving, but he was swearing enough for the both of them. As his vision cleared further, Meeks’ attention moved past the curved horizon of the big man’s belly to focus on another guard who was hanging almost horizontally from a nearby vertical pillar. Despite the guard’s painful looking position, the nature of his expression was absolutely clear. He
was a man experiencing complete and utter bliss.
Chapter Twenty
THE JOYS OF A STAR SPLINTER, HARPER 7
“Cal, I swear this thing just beeped at me.”
“Beeped?” Cal turned briefly from the Star Splinter’s flight console to look at Eddy. She was leaning back against one of the cockpit’s rear chairs, closely studying her large, golden die. The girl had been swinging Hogmeyer’s gaudy gift about her head ever since swiping it from the big man’s hand. “You sure?” he asked distractedly before turning back to the flight console. He wanted to check that no ships were attempting pursuit and that the Star Splinter’s deep space engines were performing correctly now they’d cleared the city’s restriction zone. Viktor, Melinda, and Jumper were busying themselves elsewhere on the ship, but Eddy and Toker had decided to remain in the cockpit to witness firsthand the Star Splinter’s capabilities. The flight, however, was smooth, and the expanse of deep space offered nothing to give any sense of speed, so the pair had soon lost interest.
Satisfied they weren’t being pursued, Cal turned back to Eddy. The girl was still peering at the large, golden die, her expression quizzical. He’d all but forgotten about the odd gift from Hogmeyer. He should have chucked the bloody thing out of the airlock the first chance he had.
“I vote we chuck that thing out the airlock,” Toker suggested as if he’d the power to read minds. “She's nearly slammed it into my face three times already.” He shot a pleading look towards Cal.
“Shut it, blondie. This thing makes a decent weapon. I ain’t never lettin’ go of it.”
“You mean that? Then I definitely vote we lob it out the airlock!”
“Bloody hilarious, you are,” Eddy spat. “I can keep it, right, Cal?”
Not for the first time, Cal began to feel a little more like a parent than he would have liked. “Well, I'm not sure, Eddy. It is a little lethal when you swing it about like that.”
Eddy huffed. “But I got it under control.”
“Yeah right.” Toker scoffed.
“Yeah, bloody right,” she snapped, scowling at him. “Who's to say I wasn't actually aiming for your fat head those times. Reckon I'd be doing us all a big favor.”
Cal blew out a breath and rubbed his palms into his eyes. The unravelling of the potential scam over the last couple of days hadn’t left much time for sleep, and he was starting to feel it. They all were. “How's about a test to decide?” he offered after a moment. “You could prove how accurate you are by swinging it as hard as you can at say…the circular plate on the end of that console.” Cal indicated the area with a pointed finger. He knew the girl wouldn’t do any damage except, with any luck, to the hideous golden die. On a ship as well-crafted as the Star Splinter, even the thin data screens and the sleek, silver consoles were made of the strongest materials. Nothing short of a ten-click pulse rifle could cause much damage.
Eddy shrugged. “Piece of cake. I could give this thing a full swing and whack a flea off Blondie's nose.”
“No chance,” Toker said with a chuckle and a few precautionary steps back.
“I could hit that little circle plate blind,” Eddy persisted.
“Okay.” Cal got to his feet. “You've got to swing it hard though,” he said as the girl wrapped the end of the die’s long chain around her fist and lined herself up to the target. “It's no good hitting hard if you're not accurate, and it's no good being accurate if you can't hit hard.”
“It'll be hard, don't worry ‘bout that. I hate to bugger up our new ship, but if it’s what I gotta do…” Gripping the chain tight, Eddy swung the golden die, lasso style, three times around her head then, to Cal's surprise, sent it hammering with impressive force directly into the center of the metal plate. There was a loud, explosive bang as the die disintegrated on impact.
Toker dove for cover, squealing a little as he did so. Cal didn’t blame him. Twisting away, he had to bring his arms up to shield his head from the flying fragments.
“What the hell,” came Toker’s muffled voice a few moments later from under a navigation console.
Cal lowered his arms to see Eddy staring a little dumbly at the metal plate. The disintegrated die had left a paint mark dead in its center, a golden bullseye. That paint and the fact that the cube had smashed apart to reveal tiny bits of tech, proved two things: the gift should have been shown the airlock long ago, and it certainly wasn’t crafted from real gold.
Toker crawled out from beneath the console. “I told you that thing was bloody dangerous,” he grumbled, standing up and brushing himself down. He looked ready to complain further when the look on Eddy's face stopped him short. She was on the verge of tears, the chain hanging limply from her hand. “Hey…you okay?” he asked tentatively.
The girl looked up, and the tears spilled out. “I miss my brothers.”
So unexpected, the statement hit Cal harder than any punch. No such words had been uttered by any of them for months, and to say they took him by surprise was an understatement. In that moment, his young friend looked painfully innocent and small. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that she was little more than a kid.
“An’ I miss my pa.” The tears began to drip off her chin, and her shoulders shook as she sucked in loud breaths. “He was gonna move the workshop, my pa was. He was gonna move it to some colony. Should’ve bloody done it. They’d all be safe if he’d bloody done it.”
Cal suddenly felt guilt course through him. He hadn’t really talked to any of them about loved ones lost. He’d thought they’d all wanted to mourn in silence, but suddenly, that sounded a lame justification. But what would he have said? It was a lousy excuse, he knew, but somehow, he hadn’t felt qualified. He’d lost many friends over the years, but he had never known a family, had never lost a family. Was it any different to losing friends? Feeling awkward, he started to walk over to the girl, his mind reeling over the best way to comfort her.
Toker beat him to it.
“Hey, I miss my folks too,” Toker said as he gently put an arm around her. “Real bad. And my sisters and grandparents.”
Toker too had lost so many. He should have asked them, should have talked to them about it. To add to his guilt, Cal felt an odd pang of envy, that old orphan envy that he hadn’t felt for years—not since he was a child, truth be told. It was strange that it kicked in now. But it was gone as fast as it arrived. Gone when he realized that maybe his family was right there: the two young people before him. And Jumper and Viktor. Even Melinda. Why not? An unusual bunch, but what more of a family could a man ask for? Already, he couldn’t imagine a life without them.
Eddy’s words became almost incoherent as her sobs took over. Even more so as Toker cocooned her in his arms and began to gently rub her back.
Cal watched on, impressed by Toker’s tenderness. The sight was heart-breaking but also strangely calming. He knew they’d always be there for each other no matter how hard things became, no matter how crazy. They all had their talents. His was keeping them safe.
“Sorry. Stupid, eh?” Eddy said, breaking partway out of Toker’s embrace to give her face a rigorous wipe with her sleeve.
“There’s nothing stupid about it,” Toker assured her. “It’s natural to have a good cry. I’ve had plenty.”
“S’pose,” she said, giving him a little shrug to show she was all done.
Toker retracted his arms then looked at Cal, his expression seeming to seek his approval. Even in this, they think I know it all. How had he been put on such a pedestal?
“Can’t believe I bust it.” Eddy was looking down at the limp chain in her hand. Her tears had stopped, and her breaths were slowing.
“I guess you just had too strong an arm for it,” Toker suggested. “Better it bust to pieces now instead of in the middle of a fight…right, Cal?”
“Couldn't agree more.”
The girl turned her red eyes towards him. “What d’ya reckon of my aim?” she asked with a sniff.
Cal smiled and nodded approving
ly. “Hard and accurate.”
The girl gave a little smile back then rubbed at her face again. Despite her red eyes and dishevelled appearance, she suddenly looked lighter. Walking to a nearby console, she set the chain carefully upon it. “Jumper's still the best though, I reckon,” she continued after a moment. “You see how quickly he shot all those guards back at that flight hangar?
“Yeah,” Toker agreed with a smile. “He’s pretty incredible with that bliss rifle of his. Those poor buggers ‘ll have one hell of a hangover by tomorrow.”
Eddy nodded and wiped her nose.
“I still don’t quite get how you knew the Pinpoint ship was bust up though,” Toker said as he walked over and perched next to Cal on the smooth edge of the flight console.
Pure blind luck, Cal thought, while trying not to think of the consequences if they hadn’t been lucky. “To be honest, we have Melinda to thank for that. There was an energy field coming from a hologram in the back of the ship that disrupted her nano technology. Screwed up her hair for a time.”
“I knew that crappy old ship was a hologram,” Eddy murmured with another sniff.
“The ship wasn't a hologram,” Toker pointed out, his tone less mocking than usual.
“How d’you know?”
“Well, we were standing inside it for a start.”
“Actually Eddy, it was only the main thruster on the back of the ship that turned out to be a hologram,” Cal explained. “A hologram projected from a little device we found attached to the main engine. Two actually. Hogmeyer obviously didn't trust his own technology. Luckily, Viktor figured out how to reprogram them. He scanned both ships and came up with two seriously convincing holograms. I doubt you’d ever get him to admit it, but I think our little boy genius was pretty damned impressed with those devices.”
“Lucky we found ‘um then, eh?”
Cal had never heard Eddy hold such a quiet conversation. She was still wiping at her eyes, but she was definitely much calmer, relaxed even.
