by J. L. Hilton
One of the Tech Center’s many tables moved to reveal a hole in the floor, and another Hax climbed out. This one had black hair wrapped into a knot on the back of his head and secured with sticks.
Belloc thought of the fake corridor from their first meeting. “Is this another illusion?”
The black-haired Hax threw a very real arm around Belloc’s shoulders. “This is an evil genius.” He gestured to himself. “And this—” he gestured to the floor, “—is the entrance to my lair.”
He let go of Belloc and started waving his hands in the air, opening several windows on the walls.
Belloc crouched and lowered his hand through the hole. “But, we’re on Level One. There is nothing below us.”
“Nothing except Level Zero. New quest: Would you like to steal a ship?”
“Yes.” Belloc replied without hesitation.
“It’ll be dangerous.”
“As dangerous as facing down a crowd of Glin, or staying the r’naw-tooth knife in Ga’Duhn’s hand?” Belloc stood up and held out his hands to Hax, imploring. “When my life was no longer my own, she gave it back to me. I owe her everything I have.”
Hax stared at him. “Right. I forgot the whole stoic heroic thing. My fail.”
A map appeared on the wall, displaying not three but four levels of Asteria Colony. The fourth, Level Zero, was little more than a dozen square areas connected by winding passageways, stretched out below the dense grid of Level One.
“I recommend going up through Sector I, here.” The red-headed Hax-sim pointed to an area in the military zone. “You need one ship and one pilot. Routine tactical sweep of colony airspace means two patrol ships go out every hour. At 0300, those two patrol ships will be from the Sector O hangar, with pilots Captain Shanice Avery and First Lieutenant Ramone Padilla of the U.S. Air & Space Force. Go for Avery.”
A picture of the pilot appeared on the wall, as well as a live feed of the hangar.
“She’ll be in the ship on the far right, the SX-418,” continued the Hax-sim. “There are only two ways into Sector O, through block O-21 and block O-71. The others have been closed off. Both entries have guards posted, and I doubt you’ll be able to just walk in.”
“It only takes a little juice from those gloves, Bel, to stun them,” said Hax-Prime. “It doesn’t take much to kill a human. We can’t resist the electric shock like Glin do.”
Belloc made a slight nod toward the wall, indicating all of the information before him. “I thought the military zone was not accessible on the net.”
Hax gestured in the air and several windows began filling the walls of the Tech Center. One contained a vid of Duin and Owen in the corner of Aileen’s pub, and another the Tikat liaison at a meeting table with several humans. Another showed Elder Blaze in his office. Other windows displayed vids of people Belloc didn’t recognize, until a familiar form drew his eye. It was J’ni, in bed with Duin, sitting astride his lap. Belloc touched the wall, tracing his finger along the curve of her back.
Hax chortled. “I am omnipotent. Muah-ha-ha.”
When Belloc didn’t respond, Hax leaned against the window that held the Glin so enthralled. “I said, ‘I am omnipotent muah-ha-ha,’” he repeated in a conversational tone. “I see all.”
“Yes,” agreed Belloc.
Hax made a gesture in the air and all of the windows disappeared, including the vid of J’ni. He handed Belloc a data key. “This will get you through any door in the military zone. I’d have the sims open them for you from here, but someone in the M-Z might catch on. Then you’d have the MPs up your A-Z-Z A-S-A-P.”
They climbed down what Hax called the “rabbit hole.”
Parts of this underground level looked like the blocks above, but most of it was winding, plastic-lined tunnels.
“How did you find this place?”
“I built it myself, with a little help from the bots and the minions, of course. I was one of the first colonists shifted to Asteria, so I appropriated most of the abandoned research outpost and moved it down here.”
“Does Elder Blaze know?”
“Very doubtful. The only people who know are you, me, the me-sims and the Epic Nine.”
“Epic Nine?”
“There’s twelve of us.”
Belloc doubted an explanation of that would make any sense, so he didn’t ask.
In a block similar to the Tech Center, several people played Mysteria. On the walls, Belloc recognized some of the incarnations he’d fought before. Then they entered a room filled with crates, computer equipment and clothing. Hax found Belloc a suit, boots and a helmet, similar to the gear worn by the Asteria police force, a combination of both body armor and spacesuit. Hax spent a few minutes messing with the settings. It cycled through a series of changes, displaying the colony police emblems, U.S. military insignia, and some other things Belloc couldn’t identify. When it glowed light blue like the UN peacekeepers, Hax handed it to him.
“Your shining armor, sir.”
Belloc wore the suit over his own clothing, pulled on the boots and tucked the helmet under one arm.
“Don’t get killed.” Hax led Belloc down another long, plastic hallway. “Res is disabled.”
“Their shock poles won’t affect me.”
“No, but their guns will.”
“The ESCC doesn’t allow guns on Asteria.” Belloc knew that, because he knew how hard Duin had tried to get some.
“Things changed when the Tikati came. Don’t forget the number one rule, Bel: The people with the guns make the rules. Your suit will give you some protection, but it has weak points. Neck, armpits, knees, face. And your hands, of course. The gloves aren’t bulletproof.”
Belloc gave a nod of acknowledgment.
They stopped at a ladder that went up to another door in the ceiling.
“Once you go through that hatch, there’s no coming back.” Hax picked up a pole lying nearby and prodded at the portal above. Red strings of light criss-crossed the doorway, and pieces of pole rained down on them.
“You try to return, you’ll be Glinburger. And if too many of them follow you here, this whole corridor will self-destruct. So, don’t do that. That will annoy me.”
“I understand.”
Hax disabled the deadly beams and checked again with the pole to be sure. “One last thing.” He thrust a finger into Belloc’s face. “You were never here.”
“Thank you. If you thought I was going to fail, you wouldn’t ask me to keep your secrets.”
“You won’t fail. You are full of win, my friend.”
No one had called Belloc friend before. No one but J’ni.
Belloc put on the helmet and climbed the ladder. The door was smaller than the one in the Tech Center, and it led into a crawlspace for the waste, water and recycling pipes. He twisted through these until he reached a wall panel, which he pushed open. Beyond, he could see a room about the size of J’ni and Duin’s compartment. But instead of a bed, table or kitchen, it was lined with shelves and stacked with crates, tools, furniture and items Belloc couldn’t identify.
He climbed into the room and replaced the panel. Checking his gloves, the station time was 0224. He had thirty-six minutes until Captain Shanice Avery left in her SX-418.
Exiting to the hallway, he looked around. The helmet gave him a limited range of vision, but it covered his head and face, preventing him from being identified as a Glin. Hax had also programmed the visor to display a map of the military zone, and Belloc’s position as a little dot within it, so he could find his way. At the moment, Belloc was in block I-59 on Level One.
He held the data key in his hand in case he needed it, but most of the doors were wide open between hallways and thoroughfares. Everyone seemed to be busy, so his hurried pace did not attract attention. But he still felt like a muk swimming through a pool of puqui. If one of them realized what he really was, they would all tear him apart.
The military zone was nothing like the rest of the colony. It was much cleane
r and brighter. And while still made up of the standard-sized blocks, their interiors had different configurations. Many had wide open areas, similar to Hax’s Tech Center. There were rooms full of people typing, talking and monitoring countless windows. Some blocks, where several humans were eating, reminded him of Aileen’s pub. There were other areas where people were participating in virtual warfare.
He passed a few humans in glowing blue UN suits like his. Others wore the uniforms of the United States—he recognized the decorations that glowed from their arms and chests, the red and white stripes and patches of dark blue with white stars. But there were many symbols and words on suits that he didn’t recognize.
In less than five minutes, he entered Sector N. The closest entrance to the Sector O hangar was through N-30. He had to use the data key to pass through a block full of living compartments, in order to reach the next thoroughfare.
“Where are you going?”
Belloc didn’t stop because he didn’t realize he was being addressed.
“Hey, I said, where are you going, PK?”
Everyone in the hallway looked at him. Belloc turned. A human female in a United States uniform glared at him.
“You’re with the 46th unit, Operation Star Gazer, right?” She pointed at the insignia glowing on Belloc’s arm. “Your unit is in Sector G for a briefing. Your CO’s probably wondering where the hell you are.”
Belloc continued to Sector O.
“Sector G is the other way, Sergeant!”
The others in the thoroughfare moved to block Belloc’s path. These were not the citizens of Asteria who would just let him go by. These humans were trained to fight.
Belloc checked his glove. The time was 0233.
“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I’m the deck officer in this sector, and when I say get to Sector G, you…” She glanced at the displays on the arm of her suit. “Your ID’s not working. Who are you?”
Belloc didn’t sound very human, and if the officer read J’ni’s blog, she might recognize the name. He tried to think of something else, some human name he’d read in an email.
“Jack Callahan.” Belloc walked around her. “I’ve got to go.”
“You’re not going anywhere. There’s no Callahan on my ID list.” She spoke into her arm. “Yeah, we’ve got an unidentified peacekeeper here giving me grief.”
Two Airmen moved to stop him. Belloc swung his right fist into the first Airman’s chest and sent the human sprawling across the floor. Then he turned to face the second. Lightning flared from his glove and careened across the surface of her body armor, to no effect.
More personnel rushed to subdue him. He grabbed one by the shoulder and jumped, planting his feet on another and launching himself over the humans. He flew backward through the air, somersaulted and landed in a low crouch, then sprinted down the hallway.
Just as he passed through the doorway into the thoroughfare, someone hit him on the arm with a shock pole. The crackling electricity made his suit flicker and the force of the blow knocked the data key from his gloved hand. Belloc dodged and caught hold of the pole, then twisted his body and yanked the weapon out of the Airman’s grasp. This Airman didn’t have armor, and the sparks that arced from Belloc’s glove made the human convulse and slump to the ground.
The walls began to glow red and reverberate with a cacophony of alarms as Belloc ran. He heard the crack of gunshots, and the answering ting as bullets ricocheted off of the metal walls. Others had better aim, but the suit protected him, as Hax promised.
Tucking his head down, he lunged forward and rolled into the next block. Back on his feet, he planted one boot on the wall and launched himself toward the ceiling. Hanging from a pipe, he swung forward, kicking a soldier who tried to shoot him. Then he dropped and kept running. Within seconds, he had crossed the distance of N-27 into block N-28.
He heard—and felt—a rumbling sound. Panels began to close off the thoroughfare.
“Emergency containment code red for all blocks in Sector N. This is not an exercise.”
Belloc sprinted as fast as he could toward the shrinking threshold between blocks N-28 and N-29. Panels up and down the thoroughfare were moving to seal one block from another. It was a mechanism designed to minimize oxygen loss or other damage in the event of a disaster, but it was also effective for trapping unwanted intruders. Like him.
“All members of the 46th are present and accounted for. This is not one of the UN Troops.”
Belloc heard the announcement as he crossed into N-29.
“We have an unidentified combatant in the 20s thoroughfare of Sector N. Repeat, we have an unidentified combatant…”
His long legs and Glin speed hurtled him over the threshold into Sector O as the emergency panel closed. He landed in a crouch, with both hands on the floor. His glove said 0235.
He lifted his head. Through his visor, he could see the door to the hangar. But between Belloc and the door, eight United States Air & Space Force police officers stood with their guns pointed at him.
“Don’t move,” said one of the MPs.
Belloc sent a surge of bio-electric energy into his gloves. A ripple of lightning spread from Belloc’s hands and swept through the metal room, climbing the walls, flickering the Asternet displays, playing over the control panels and causing the doors to clang open and shut and open again.
Belloc was as surprised as the Airmen when threads of electricity crossed the room and danced over the soldiers’ body armor and weapons. A few of them cried out and collapsed on the ground.
He seized the opportunity to spring toward the open hangar door. One MP fired and the bullet hit Belloc’s shoulder. It didn’t pierce his suit, but at such close range the force knocked him off balance. He recovered, and with inhuman reflexes, his hand snapped out and snatched the gun from the Airman’s hands before the human realized what had happened. Throwing the weapon aside, Belloc broke the Airman’s knee with a quick kick. He disarmed and disabled the two remaining airmen before his gloves said 0237.
Inside the hangar, he saw the ship right where Hax said it would be, and more Airmen pouring in through the entrance at N-70. He also spotted Captain Shanice Avery standing beside her spacecraft. Belloc darted between the other vessels and grabbed the pilot as she ran up the ramp to her ship.
“Who the hell are you?” She tried to twist free of his grasp, but he was too strong.
“I don’t want to hurt you. I need your help, Shanice.”
“Let her go.” Several guns were aimed at him, and his visor flickered with the beams of their laser sites. They were aiming for his head.
Backing up the ramp, he used the pilot as a shield until they were both on board. Then Belloc closed the hatch and dragged her to the bridge, pushing her into a chair.
“Do you know Genevieve O’Riordan?”
Shanice was confused by the question. “Um, yeah, I think so. She’s that frog-humping blogger, right?”
“I must save her.”
“From what? You’re the one who looks dangerous.”
“You will fly this ship to Glin for me.”
“Like hell I will.”
He pulled off his helmet to better examine the displays.
“You’re not human.”
“No.”
“Hey, I’m sorry about that frog comment. It’s what people say, y’know? My step-brother, Trey, he loves you guys, and I’ve got nothing against aliens in general. But, look, there is nothing you can do to force me to fly this ship. Even if you kill me. I’m a United States Airman. You get that, don’t you?”
“Yes. Go.”
“What?”
“Leave.”
“No problem.” Shanice got up and edged away from him. When he didn’t respond, she turned and fled the ship.
Belloc sealed the door behind her and sat down in the pilot seat. He ran his hands over the touch-screens and the engines roared to life.
“Hot crap in a cookie tin.” Elder Blaze’s fac
e appeared on one of the bridge displays. “Genny warned me about you. Let me guess. You found out that she left the colony, and you’re going to go get her. Boy, you try to take this ship, you’ll get your ass shot down, if you don’t just crash first.”
“Tell them not to shoot me.”
“I can’t,” said Elder Blaze.
“Do you want them to shoot me?”
“Yes, at the moment, I kinda do.”
Belloc touched the controls and the ship rolled forward.
“What if you make things worse by showing up on Glin? You could get caught. Did you think of that?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I think you should let me leave.”
“Son, how in the hell do you think you’re gonna fly that thing?”
Belloc swirled his hands, to take in the entire bridge. “It is like the Tikati ship.”
The colonel was silent for a few moments. “Come again?”
“It is like the Tikati ship,” Belloc repeated. He mentally compared each readout and glowing panel to those he had learned from Duin. “Or close enough. The controls are smaller, and the Tikati ship had no weapons.”
The Asternet did, however, have several military simulation games. Belloc ran his fingers over the targeting system of the ship, arming the missiles and aiming for the hangar doors.
“Are you telling me that Tikat ships are based on Earth technology?”
“I don’t know,” Belloc replied. “But I can play this ship and I will. Please remove your people from the area or they might die when I blow a hole in the wall.”
Belloc heard the colonel’s voice both within the cockpit of the ship and coming from outside. “Stand down. Evacuate the bay and prepare to launch.”
Within moments, the Airmen retreated. Belloc heard the whirring of the fans sucking the precious oxygen from the room.
“Go get her. But you realize that when you get back, you are going to be detained, right? Imprisoned? I thought most Glin didn’t like being cooped up.”
The hangar doors opened and Belloc saw the bright surface of Asteria.
“I am not most Glin,” he said, and left the colony behind.
