Hard Luck Hank: Basketful of Crap

by Steven Campbell

“I can provide one.”

  “How many people can I hire?” I asked.

  “As many as is required,” Naked Guy said.

  “What if I needed 10,000 people?” I challenged.

  “The attack needs to be carried out within three months. And you may only hire residents of Belvaille.”

  “But you’re basically saying I can spend as much money as I need to spend and you’ll give us whatever equipment we want?”

  “We can only give equipment that Colmarian United Supply possesses, but otherwise, yes.”

  I couldn’t see any problems with this deal. I was going to be the most popular guy on Belvaille very shortly.

  “Alright,” I said. “Give me the list of gear and I’ll turn it over to my tech guy. In the meantime I’ll start hiring people. I’m going to need—” and I shrugged. I thought I understood how corporations worked a little. “Thirty million credits.”

  It was an absurd number. I might as well have said “three infinities.”

  Naked Guy paused. For once. Had a corporation finally been overbilled?

  “That sum is acceptable,” he said.

  Naked Guy walked to my front door and was about to leave when I thought of one last thing.

  “Why do you guys have the Portals?”

  He turned and faced me. Those black, reflective eyes were unwavering.

  “To avoid the tolls from the Navy blockade.”

  That answer sent a shiver up my back. I wasn’t sure about all the other things he had told me. But I knew that last one was a lie.

  CHAPTER 41

  There was no way the corporations were saving enough on Navy fees to justify building their own Portals. Not unless their long-term plans stretched epochs into the future.

  But Naked Guy had been so forthcoming about everything else. It seemed odd he would lie about that one thing. It was also entirely possible that I didn’t understand all the details. I wasn’t exactly a corporate bookkeeper.

  But I did know the fees the Navy charged. I knew them for the gangs. Unless the corporations were charged vastly different sums, it didn’t make any sense.

  As I was pondering all this I got a tele from Garm.

  “What?” I tried to answer as grumpily as she always answered my teles.

  “Hi, Hank. What are you up to?”

  “Huh?” I don’t think Garm had ever asked such a thing of me. She was not one to mince words or flatter or ask how your day was going.

  “I heard your apartment was destroyed by Wallow. Wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt.”

  “Oh. Well that’s nice of you. No, I got out long before. I suspected something like that might happen; though, I would have enjoyed seeing Wallow walk across Belvaille. That must have been an impressive sight.”

  “How is it you seem to like Wallow but you’re always fighting him?” she asked.

  “I have never ‘fought’ Wallow. I have merely had a few disagreements with his fists and his fists have shown me the error of my ways. I just think it’s cool that a Therezian is on Belvaille.”

  “Yeah,” Garm said. “You talk to Bronze lately?”

  This was why she had called. And it made me uncomfortable. And she was uncomfortable. And we could both see the other was uncomfortable on the tele screen.

  “Yeah.” I mumbled something, combining a few grunts and murmurs and hoped that sounded like a sentence.

  “I know he’s…fond of you. I haven’t been able to get ahold of him. He doesn’t have a tele of course. Strangest thing. At least he says he doesn’t have one…”

  Garm was a great friend. And Bronze was a friend. And if any two people in the galaxy should not be dating, it was them. But that wasn’t for me to say.

  I couldn’t look at the tele. At Garm’s face. I looked at my autocannon on the floor. Maybe I should paint it. Or sell advertising space.

  “Hmm,” I said, stalling for time.

  But how was I going to do this? I didn’t want to rat on Bronze. But I didn’t want Garm to twist in the wind. She might even take it out on me later. Was I jealous? There’s nothing like seeing someone date your ex-girlfriend to remind you just how much you like her. Even if the moment you get back together you want to kill her.

  “Oh, before I forget, I heard some guys at the Gentleman’s Club say they were putting together a job to burgle the Pushane Jewel,” I said casually.

  “What? That’s my apartment building,” Garm yelled.

  “I thought so.”

  “When did you hear this?”

  “Few days ago.”

  “And you’re just thinking of telling me now?”

  “I hadn’t talked to you in a bit. Besides, you have security, right?”

  “Not enough. Who were they? Was this just ‘guy talk’ or were they serious?”

  “Seemed serious. I didn’t see, I was watching glocken.”

  “That team is never going to win!” She yelled. “My place better not get robbed or I’m holding you responsible.”

  “Do what I do and have Gandrine sit outside.”

  “I’ll call you back. If you hear anything more, let me know immediately. Not a few days later.”

  “Sure.”

  Garm hung up.

  That was one way to get out of an ugly conversation.

  CHAPTER 42

  Not long after, I got an enormous list of equipment available from Naked Guy. It was what Colmarian United Supply could lend us for the attack on the other corporation. The list was over 300 pages long and I didn’t understand the vast majority of it.

  I forwarded it to Delovoa and asked him, “If you were going to outfit an army of gang thugs to attack a corporation on Belvaille, and you had your pick of anything on this list, what would you choose?”

  I also received a fund transfer.

  30,000,000 credits.

  I stood there looking at that number. I wasn’t even thinking of stealing that, because he had sent it to me in less than a day based on our five minute conversation. That was not a group I would ever be stealing from.

  I teled Cad. I still felt bad about him losing Sassy and getting hurt at the last fight.

  “You still here?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Where else am I going to go?” he said.

  “I’ll give you…forty grand to follow the Gandrine for four weeks. Twenty-four hours a day.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You’re turning down forty grand?”

  “No, I’m just…there must be a reason. And it’s probably bad. Otherwise, I can’t think of a more boring job. Hire like three more people so we can at least talk and play cards.”

  “How about I give you fifty grand and you hire anyone you want? I can’t be chasing around people looking to sit in front of Gandrine. Oh, but don’t let them see you.”

  “I’m not sure they can see us. Where are they now?”

  “By my new apartment.” I opened my door. “Well, not now. But I suspect they will be later. I’ll give you the address. Stay in a building up the street, they’re all vacant.”

  “Is this dangerous?”

  “I can’t imagine. Even if the Gandrine didn’t want you following them, if you crawl away from them they’ll never catch you. But don’t let them see you.”

  “I know. I know.” Cad sighed.

  “This is a lot of money I’m offering you,” I said, feeling as if he wasn’t being appreciative.

  “Don’t get pissy. You’re basically asking me to watch them watch nothing. That’s painful.”

  “That’s basically what we did as doormen.”

  “No, we talked. Hung out. How drunk can we get?”

  “Not so drunk you can’t follow two Gandrine without them knowing.”

  “So, just short of comatose.”

  “Hah hah. Do you want the job or not?” I asked.

  “I suppose. Give me the address.”

  CHAPTER 43

  I didn’t have a way to hire enough people to do the corporate job. I knew plenty of
goons, but I couldn’t sit around negotiating with each of them if I wanted to get this done in three months.

  I took out an ad in The News:

  Do you hate corporations? Can you fire a gun reasonably well? Apply to Hank at the Belvaille Gentleman’s Club. 30,000 credit flat rate. Don’t tele him or drop by his apartment! I’m busy.

  If that didn’t get people, nothing would.

  Delovoa got back to me pretty quick.

  “What’s all this about? Are you forming a corporation or something?” he asked.

  “No, just working with them again. I need to attack another corporation.”

  “You’re crazy!”

  “I figure I can hire about 800 guys. Though how I’m going to organize that many people I don’t know.”

  “Some corporations have heavy armored vehicles.”

  “Well, that’s where I need your help. Besides, Naked Guy said we just need to disrupt their operations and—”

  “Who?”

  “Oh, he’s just my liaison.”

  “Is his name really Naked Guy?”

  “No. He doesn’t have a name. Or clothes. Oh, he told me about the biological guys. The soldiers.”

  I explained it to Delovoa who listened carefully.

  “I suppose that’s all possible. If they could sell them I have to imagine they would make a fortune. See, it’s technology like that I think the Confederation should be more open about.”

  “What? Weren’t you telling me they could kill us all if they sneezed?”

  “What do I know? I’ve never worked on them.”

  I glared at my tele.

  “Do you think you could get me involved with their team?” he asked.

  “I doubt it. We’re not exactly friends. I suspect you’d have to join the corporation.”

  Delovoa frowned.

  “Forget it. I tried the business route before,” he said.

  “How’d that go?”

  “I’m on Belvaille, aren’t I? How much did he pay you for this job?” Delovoa asked curiously. “I saw you took out an ad and this list of equipment is pretty amazing.”

  I generally didn’t like to talk about money matters, but Delovoa was different and I wanted to show off.

  “Guess,” I said smugly.

  Delovoa thought hard.

  “Twenty—twenty-seven million,” he said finally.

  I blinked a few times.

  “Thirty. How did you know that?”

  “I’ve worked for the corporations too. I don’t even know if they deal in credits at the high levels. They use other forms of currency. Credits are like them scooping up a handful of air and giving it to us.”

  I was disappointed he hadn’t been amazed.

  “Well, it’s still money to me.”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s a lot. You should be proud.”

  “Don’t patronize me.”

  “I’m not. In fact, for me to help you with this you’ll have to pay me fifty-five thousand.”

  “Forty-five.”

  “Fifty-five and I’ll field strip and clean and repair your autocannon, which has almost certainly taken some abuse since you’ve had it.”

  “Alright. Alright. So get a shopping list back to me of what I should order. Imagine you were coming along with us and your life depended on us protecting you.”

  “Which corporation are you going to attack?”

  “Does it matter?”

  CHAPTER 44

  After a long train ride I stepped into the Belvaille Gentleman’s Club and my first thought was that the toilets had overflowed again. There were people standing three across in the hallway.

  But then they spotted me and it turned into everyone calling out my name, tugging on me, patting me on the back, and telling me how great I was.

  Krample, the coat check, almost exploded.

  “You! You son of a bitch, this isn’t your private meeting hall. Get these people out of here!”

  I ignored him and continued walking. After about ten feet I already had a headache.

  The Gentleman’s Club was a huge building, one of the original ten story structures. From what I could tell it was currently packed with scumbags and lowlifes.

  This was yet another instance of me not thinking things through. How was I possibly going to hire this many people? Let alone equip. Let alone pay.

  My first instinct, and I thought it was a pretty good one, was to leave. Maybe I could take out another ad in The News and simply tell them where to attack. Be like a real general and run this from the sidelines.

  I fought my way up to the cafeteria and it was the same. The whole club was like this. Guys were stuffed into every room.

  A few times I tried telling people to shut up so I could think, but that didn’t work. It just became a hundred people yelling at everyone else to shut up so I could think and them yelling back.

  This was why I left the Navy—or was never in it. And why I never wanted to be a boss. Organizing things was stressful.

  I couldn’t even order any food because they had eaten it all. All of it! As far as I was concerned one of the only reasons to go to the Gentleman’s Club was to eat.

  Wait, I’m a multimillionaire boss.

  “You,” I said, pointing at a random guy. “Go get me four orders of chocko stix at Martha’s Bottle.”

  He sprang to attention and pushed his way through the crowd to fulfill the order.

  “What? What’d he say? He’s hungry. Hank’s hungry!”

  About another dozen men took off, presumably trying to kiss up and get me more food. Which was fine.

  But this was impossible. I couldn’t possibly do this all by myself. So I took a page from the gangs and from the military.

  “You. You’re now a captain.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’re an…enforcer, first class.”

  “Thanks!”

  “And you’re a facilitator.”

  “Can I be an enforcer?”

  “You’re not anything, now.”

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

  I basically made officers of anyone I knew and sort of trusted within pointing range. I would work out what it all meant later. But I needed some organization.

  It was a cute concept to be rebels marching to our own tune, but there couldn’t be 800 such people. Not when we were going to be armed with heavy weapons and fighting a real corporate military.

  After about three hours I was absolutely exhausted.

  I ate too much food for one thing and I wanted to lie down.

  I had minted thirty-five brand new officers whose titles signified nothing. They were already arguing over who was higher rank.

  There were, at last count, 437 people who wanted to enlist in my army. I needed more. Even though I had nothing to equip them with, no way to get them around, and no way of determining if they were right for the job or were even likely to show up. They could be junkies from Deadsouth for all I knew.

  There were people who were clearly not right. They were old, fat, crooked even by my standards. I had a fear that half of them would run away as soon as the fighting started.

  What a nightmare.

  Bronze slipped through the crowd and appeared in front of me with his wonderful smile.

  “Hank! Man, took me an hour to get in. There’s people backed into the street.”

  “Bronze, what are you doing here?”

  “Hoping for a job.”

  He saw me thinking about it.

  “Come on, Hank, I’ve been asking. I can shoot a gun. Not great, but I can.”

  I sighed. He was probably better than half the guys around me. None of them were dating Garm, however.

  “Alright,” I said reluctantly.

  Four of my officers jockeyed with each other to take down Bronze’s information.

  I saw Delovoa getting elbowed and pushed around in the mass of hairy arms.

  “Ah, Colonel Delovoa!” I bellowed.

  Th
e tide parted and Delovoa was promptly dropped on the ground. He was helped to his feet just as quickly. His three eyes were spinning.

  Some of my ad hoc officers saluted. Poorly.

  “We need to talk about supplies and strategy and stuff,” I said as importantly as possible.

  I moved to escort him out of the building.

  “I just walked through all that,” Delovoa complained.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow to continue recruiting,” I yelled to the crowd. “Tell your friends.”

  On the train Delovoa and I talked.

  “The corporation is offering you a lot of nice things, but none of them are crew-served weapons,” he said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Weapons capable of taking out a lot of enemies at a time or taking out heavily armored vehicles. Things like recoilless rifles and mortars.”

  “I don’t think those guys can use any of that stuff. I don’t think half of them have used a pistol.”

  “They’ll have to learn if you want to fight a corporation in their own territory. Harsh language and body odor aren’t going to stop a reactive armor tank.”

  “I blew up one tank already,” I bragged.

  “You didn’t blow up a tank. That was an APC.”

  “No, the second one. The one that put me in the hospital. It had a gun just like mine.”

  “If it had an autocannon it wasn’t a tank. It was an armored fighting vehicle. Your gun wouldn’t do anything to a tank.”

  “I thought you said it could shoot through the weak side of one.”

  He shrugged.

  “That was just basement talk,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  “What?” I was annoyed. What if I had fought a true tank and found my gun did nothing? “Alright, this is real talk. I have to attack in three months. Do you think I can get them trained in time on those big weapons you were talking about?”

  “Doesn’t matter if they aren’t offering you any. But no, I don’t think you can. You’ll have trouble getting them trained on the basics like how to move without killing each other.”

  “Then what do you suggest we use to fight armored vehicles, Colonel?”

  “Pyrotechnics. Everyone understands fire.”

  CHAPTER 45

  “They left,” Cad teled me as I was walking.