The Last Horizon

by Anthony Hartig

  He sat in the car for about ten minutes and looked around to make sure he was alone, he could hear the echo of engines on the lower levels, but so far no one came up here. After a while, he was satisfied this would be a secure enough place to take care of the task at hand.

  He reached down and popped the hood open. Scott got out and scanned the engine for a few minutes then checked the wheel wells and fender. Not having any luck, he began his search inside. Forty minutes later, he found two magnetic tracking devices: one was hidden in the steering column, the other was behind the screen of the Avarno’s GPS system. He examined the transmitters and smiled, then pocketed the small instruments and pulled the Black Swan out of the pack with the det-receiver rings.

  Scott took the plastic explosive and shaped them onto the engine block. He stopped for a moment to scan the area to make sure he was still unobserved, then plunged the prongs of the detonation rings into the Swan. He shut the hood, sat down in the car, and took the Kirsten automatic pistol out of the backpack with the extra clips and taped them under the dashboard next to the steering column.

  He left the SS-2 parked in the corner and walked down two levels of the garage when he was done. There was a luxury sedan parked next to the entrance of the elevator lobby; he strolled up to it, and stuck the locators under the bumper.

  Scott showered and put on some casual clothes when he got back to his room on the eighth floor. He put on a black dinner jacket, stepped out to the balcony, and gazed at the lights of Fluture. The streets were bright with the flow of traffic, and the nearby glass highrises mirrored each other as they stretched into the night sky. The sound of the avenue was faint, but he could still hear the music from the clubs rising to his level. Another night in the city of lights.

  He caught a movement in the shadows from the corner of his eye. Scott turned his head to the right and saw it; a Blue Didius Butterfly--delicate and beautiful, its wingspan was at least ten inches across. It fluttered gently as it crawled on the handrail opening and closing its wings slowly. Scott smiled as it stopped less than two feet from him, and he watched it fiddle with its legs and clean it’s antennae. It was hard to believe such a fragile creature could venture thousands of miles from its birthplace then find its way home. It must be among the first to arrive and he knew that thousands more would be following soon.

  He kept his eyes on the Didius as he backed into his room slowly. He spent a few minutes double-checking his things then went down to The Orchid Casino.

  The place was packed. Gamblers were a different breed of people; they obsessed over chance and its indifference to the human condition, and even when faced with loss, many couldn’t walk away from the table because they felt they could somehow control fate--the counters that tried to tame luck with hard mathematics and statistical voodoo. But for Scott, nothing was left to chance, everything was a calculated move, and luck was a factor in the equation that was reduced as much as possible.

  He moved through the crowd watching people playing Black Ball, Lucky 13, Cyber Six, and G-Ride. There was a constant ringing or chiming in the air as machines lit up and monitors gave a live feed of an elimination race going on in another part of Nexus.

  He spotted Charon with a couple of bodyguards walking around the tables watching people engrossed in their games. They were looking for hustlers or teams of them that were working the house. So that’s Charon. The next time he would see him would be from a distance of twenty-five hundred meters. Tomorrow he would go to the valley and set up.

  It was about one in the morning and the darkness held a slight chill as I pushed down on the Cyclone’s kickstand and grabbed my clutch bag. This time the valet from the night before had recognized me but still seemed a little embarrassed by his earlier mistake.

  “Good evening, Miss.”

  “Hello.” I responded. “Is the Electric Gypsy still open?”

  “Yes, as far as I know it should be open for another hour or so. May I take that helmet for you?”

  “I’ll hang on to it this evening. Have you ever gone in there?”

  “I like to go on my nights off.”

  “Is it the same DJ every night?”

  “You mean Herron?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Yes, Herron’s the man, he really knows how to work the crowd. The ladies love him.”

  “Do you know when he usually leaves?”

  “I’m afraid any information concerning the staff is privileged.” The valet grinned.

  “I understand.” I slipped him a hundred and winked. “This is for taking such good care of my personal belongings last night while I was at the Gypsy.”

  He sighed, “He gets all the girls. You want to meet him don’t you?”

  “I find him interesting.” I smiled.

  The valet glanced at the tip I gave him. “Sheesh, if you go around the east end of the casino, you’ll see a door by the loading docks. Go through it and take a right down the corridor, then go left. Herron’s dressing room is the second door on the right.”

  “Thanks.”

  I walked briskly down the side of the building in the shadows avoiding the parking lot lights, then I heard voices as I got closer to the docks. I slowed my pace, put my back to the wall, and edged closer, until I could peer around the corner of the building.

  I saw two men dressed in ERT uniforms carrying a blonde girl to a red Medevac van. I stood quietly in the darkness and listened in on their conversation as they loaded her into the vehicle.

  “…so wadda ya think, yhamo?.” One of them asked gruffly as he pulled the girl into the van.

  “I’ll tell ya what I think…I think you and I are in the wrong line of work,” the other responded bitterly, “she’s the forth one tonight.”

  “He’s definitely running hot, ain’t he?”

  “Yeah. She’s a good specimen though.”

  They shut the back doors of the vehicle, got in, and drove off into the night. I slipped into the building and walked through the corridor until I found Herron’s dressing room. I looked around and was comforted that the late hours left the area uninhabited by staff members.

  I tapped on the door lightly and was greeted heatedly by Herron’s voice.

  “Jase, I told you I’d meet you upstairs in an hour!”

  I opened the door and stepped into the dressing room. Herron was sitting in front of a large mirror framed by lights. His stovepipe hat was on the floor, and his face was still painted red and white with make-up. His shirt was off and he looked up at my reflection with surprise.

  “Well hello there little lady,” he grinned as he turned around and stood up to face me, “I’ll assume you came here because you wanted to feast your eyes on the star and maybe go home and tell your friends you pillowed the Gypsy’s DJ.”

  “Not really.” I swung my helmet as hard as I could and nailed Herron on the left side of his head. He flew sideways and smashed the mirror with his forehead before his eyes rolled white and he twisted slowly toward me with his mouth agape, then ended up sprawled on the floor face down and out cold.

  I picked him up, propped him on his chair facing what was left of the dresser mirror, and tore his shirt into ribbons. I used them to bound his hands behind him and legs to the chair.

  I had to work quickly if I was going to pull this off. I needed to keep him off balance by not giving him a chance to think, I had to instill fear and exploit it.

  I grabbed a table lamp and pulled the cord out of its base. I noticed that Herron had his nipples pierced and gold loops dangled from each one. Perfect. I split the cord in half, took my knife and stripped about two inches of insulation from the end to expose the wires.

  I wrapped each bare wire around Herron’s nipple rings, and plugged the cord into the nearest outlet that was circuited to a light switch.

  I picked up a bottle of water that sat on his dresser and poured some on his head. Herron inhaled loudly and coughed as he regained consciousness.

  “What the hell!” He barked ragge
dly as he looked at the wires attached to his body. “What are you doing?”

  “Hello Herron,” I frowned as I crossed my arms and faced him, “you and I need to have a little talk.”

  “Ha-ha! Piss-off, bitch!” He blurted defiantly.

  “Uh-huh.” I sighed, leaned forward, and jammed what was left of his shirt into his mouth. “So we do this the hard way.”

  I took the bottle of water and poured it on his chest as I flicked on the light switch. Herron’s body stiffened in the chair and his eyes bulged as he convulsed hard. I turned off the switch after forty-five seconds and pulled the rag out of his mouth.

  “Goddamn it!” He huffed as he glared at me.

  “You know, I could do this all night.” I said calmly as I ran my fingers through his wet hair. “The only problem is that I don’t have all night.” I grinned as I swirled a tuft of hair with my index finger and stepped behind him.

  “What do you want?” Herron growled.

  “Answers.” I stated dryly, clutched a hand full of hair, and pulled his head back hard so that he looked up at me. “I know you’re job at the Gypsy is just a cover for something else. I want to know who you work for and how your operation works.”

  “You’re out of your fooking head…do you know who you’re messing with?” Herron laughed.

  “Last night after midnight a girl disappeared while she was with you. Tonight four more vanished because of you.”

  “How do you know this?” He gasped. “You a cop?”

  I pulled out my knife and pressed it against his right cheek. “After you get a girl geeked-up on crunch, what else do you give them to get them so whacked? Last I heard, crunch was an amphetamine.”

  “It’s mixed with harquinol.”

  “A super opiate.” I nodded. “You dose them with a speed demon.”

  “Yeah.” Herron smiled.

  “Where do they get taken when they pass-out?”

  “No.” He shook his head and looked down as he struggled against his constraints.

  “No?” I asked with exaggerated surprise.

  “Get stuffed!”

  “I’m afraid your answer is unacceptable.” I replied and stuffed the rag back into his mouth and hit the switch again. Herron seized-up and I could hear him choke as saliva foamed from the corners of his mouth.

  I shut the switch off again and yanked the cloth out. “I’m running out of patience, Herron, and you’re running out of time…”

  “OH GOD STOP! PLEASE STOP!” He pleaded.

  “…what happens to the girls you drug when they get taken out of here?” I asked coldly.

  Herron cried. “You don’t understand, they’re going to kill me if I talk!”

  “No, you don’t understand--they’re not in charge of you right now, I am.” I glared. “The only difference is that I’ll make you wish you died as a child by the time I’m done.”

  I showed him my blade again as we looked at his reflection in a jagged shard of mirror. “See this? It’s not the ideal tool for what I’m going to do, but still, it’ll get the job done.” I drew the blade lightly across his cheek and a thin line of blood appeared.

  “Jaysus,” he cringed, “what are you going to do to me?” Herron’s eyes widened.

  “My knife is sharp but this is going to get really sloppy when I start cutting.” I whispered. “You see, the layer of dermis has a lot of nerves in it, so when I start to flay your face, you’re going to feel it separate from the connective tissue beneath.” I smiled sadistically. I had to push my bluff, get him to believe that I drew pleasure from what I was doing…

  “The muscles on the face are intricate…a beautiful matrix, really. We’re going to have ourselves an anatomy lesson, and when I’m done, I’m going to stick your face on the wall so you can see the expression you had when I peeled it off your skull.”

  “I’LL TALK! I’LL TALK! PLEASE, NO MORE!” He begged.

  “Where do they go when they leave here?”

  “They get taken to Cybelle.”

  “What happens there?”

  “Charon breaks them down and uses them as call girls at The Orchid. Sometimes he sells them off to the high bidders in a place called The Chamber.”

  “What do you mean he breaks them down?”

  “He keeps ’em doped, has one of his guys threaten and beat them, whatever it takes to break their spirit into submission.”

  “Where’s this Chamber?”

  “Cybelle.”

  “You’ve been to this chamber?”

  “Only once.”

  “So you kidnap girls for a prostitution and sex slave ring.”

  Herron didn’t answer. He slouched and looked down at the floor shaking his head.

  “Where do you keep your stash of crunch?” I demanded.

  “What? Why?”

  “I’m asking the questions around here! Now where do you keep your shit?”

  “Top…” Herron motioned to the dresser. “…top drawer.”

  I sheathed my knife, opened the drawer and found a half-filled bag of white powder. I dumped its contents into a pile on the dresser, pulled out the Cobalt, and put it against Herron’s right temple.

  “What are you going to do?” He asked as he regarded the pile of crunch.

  “It’s party time.” I grabbed the hair on the top of his head and forced him down toward the dust.

  “NO! NO!” He cried pathetically as I pushed his face into the pile.

  “Breeaaathe!” I said through clenched teeth.

  “Mmmrrrffttt!” Herron struggled as I buried his face in the narcotic.

  His body went limp after a few seconds, and I pulled his head up. Crunch was smeared all over his face and his pupils were dilated and glassy. Herron’s mouth hung open and he began to drool on himself.

  I put the Cobalt away, flicked the switch back on, and left him convulsing in the room.

  Summer mindlessly pushed the food around on her plate as she stared at the glass of wine in front of her. She paid no mind to the background conversations of the other patrons of the restaurant as she lost herself in thought. She was tired and just wanted to get back to her room.

  The man she was escorting this evening was a very distinguished executive for one of the largest platinum mining companies in Nexus. He was in his late sixties, balding, overweight, and rich. One of her regulars.

  One thing clients like him had in common was that they were all married, had families, and used their business trips to cheat on their wives. Money seemed to be no object for them to have their fantasies fulfilled…no matter how depraved. She was their girl. The girl that never flinched. The girl that never judged.

  You’d never know it by looking at him, but this one was kind of a freak; that was always the case with his kind, straight-laced and conservative in appearance, with a dark unsettling fetish lurking behind an expensive suit.

  He always tipped her a lot of money on the side to “be treated extra special.” Extra special meant that he would snort some crunch, have her tie him up face down on the floor, and have his ass spanked until it was raw and tears streamed down his face.

  He liked to beg, and always insisted she wore spiked heels so she could dig them into his buttocks and tell him what a naughty little boy he was and how he needed to be punished for his impure thoughts.

  “You look ravishing tonight, Summer.” He smiled as he sipped his wine.

  “Thank you, Eli.” She blushed.

  “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “So have I.”

  “I really enjoyed our last meeting.” He grinned. “I can’t wait to get you alone.”

  “Patience. I promise it will be worth the wait.”

  After they finished their dinner, they retired to his room on the thirteenth floor and he removed his dinner jacket and sat at on the bed.

  “Did you bring desert?” Eli asked happily with a tone of anticipation in his voice.

  Summer handed him a small vile filled with
crunch. He smiled as he unscrewed the cap that had a tiny spoon built into it, took a scoop of the powder, and inhaled it sharply into his left nostril.

  “Ahhh! Quality!” He snorted another dip of dust and exhaled loudly as he stood up and completely undressed.

  “Oh baby, you are a scorcher tonight.” He caressed Summer lovingly with his eyes as he fondled himself.

  “I’ve been really bad and I think you need to do something extra special to me!”

  Summer took a step closer to him and slapped his face hard. “I saw the way you looked at our waitress during dinner and I could tell you were having those dirty thoughts.”

  “No. I didn’t mean it.” He pouted as he cast his gaze down at the floor.

  “Hey, look at me when I talk to you!” Summer hissed. “You were having thoughts, you dirty little chubby!” She scowled and smacked him again.

  “You know what happens when you have those thoughts, right?” Summer said menacingly as she circled him slowly.

  “I couldn’t help myself!” Eli whined shamefully.

  Summer pushed him down to the floor. “On your knees, pizzle! Who do you adore?”

  “You.”

  “Say my name, piglicker!”

  “Mistress!”

  “Get on your stomach…NOW!

  “Yes Empress.” The man rolled over submissively.

  Summer stood over him and tied his hands behind his back with his neck tie as he sprawled on the carpet. She grabbed the man’s belt, folded it in half, and gave his ass five or six hard lashings.

  “Oh god!” He yelled. “Harder! Punish me, Mistress!”

  “Shut up, you pathetic ass goblin!” Summer ordered as she crossed the belt on Eli’s buttocks a few more times with everything she had. His skin was red, and the belt left sharp welts. Tears ran down his cheeks as he took deep breaths and trembled.

  “I swear, your ass is hairy enough to pass for a throw rug,” Summer’s nose crinkled with disgust, “and it smells like burnt mushrooms, you filthy scrub!”

  “Oh yes! YES! I’M SO DIRTY!”

  “You need to use cream rinse!” Summer whipped him several more times.

  “I need cream rinse.” He whimpered feebly.