The Last Horizon

by Anthony Hartig

  “I want to hear you beg!” She charged as she leaned over him. “What do you want from your Mistress tonight?”

  “Pudding.”

  “What?” Summer growled as she leaned in closer. “I didn’t hear you, piglet!”

  “I want some pudding, my Empress!”

  “You have to earn your pudding, you grubby little twat hammer.”

  “Command me, Mistress.”

  “I want to hear you sing.” She stood up above the man and pressed the stiletto heel of her left shoe into his buttocks as she balanced herself on her right foot. “Sing me my song you shitheel.”

  “I'm a little teapot, short and stout, here is my handle,

  here is my spout…” his voice shook with pain…

  “With feeling, you miserable knob-gobbler!” Summer put her weight into her left leg and dug the heel of her shoe into his ass cheek…

  “Oooh my god that hurts!” He cried loudly.

  “Sing dickweed!”

  “…when I get all steamed up, hear me shout, tip me up and pour me out…”

  “I said with feeling!” Summer removed her foot and began wailing on his ass with the belt with all her might…

  “…I'm a clever teapot, yes, it's true…”

  “MAGGOT!” She continued to crucify his butt as his voice weakened and sweat poured from him…

  “…here's an example of what I can do…”

  “LOUDER! Bitch!” She screamed as the belt smacked loudly against his skin and sweat flew in every direction…

  “…I can turn my handle into a spout…I want my mommy!”

  “Stop crying, bitch!” Summer whipped his ass harder then stood up and jammed her heel into his butt again with her full weight behind it…

  “…tip—me—up—and—pour—me--ouuut! MOMMY! I WANT MY MOMMY!” He blubbered in agony.

  “What are you?”

  “I’m a filthy mud-bunny.” He whimpered.

  “WRONG!” Summer shouted. “You are a bag of shit!” She slammed her heel into his ass and twisted her foot.

  He moaned with his eyes half-closed in ecstasy and passed-out on the floor. Summer took a deep breath, bent down and untied him, and stepped away from Eli’s sweaty body.

  She calmly walked to the dresser and took a moment to fix her hair. Summer glanced up at the reflection of the man as she touched-up her lipstick.

  She went over to the bed and picked up Eli’s pants and pulled his billfold out of the back pocket. Summer counted out four thousand credits, put it in her purse, and left the room.

  Chapter 11

  Kurlie

  Larron and Vince looked exhausted when they came to see me. I could tell from their glassy-eyed expressions that they hadn’t slept in days, but Vince looked excited as he walked into the room, sat next to Larron, and set three burned-out SCaT pads on my desk.

  Hackers. I don’t know what it is about them, but they all seemed the same: rogue brainiacs that got their ya-ya’s off on sleep deprivation as they tested network security codes and exposed the vulnerabilities of mega-corporations by deciphering and dissecting their firewalls, hijacking identities, and disrupting the flow of daily life, and for what? A jab at the establishment? To bring chaos into the lives of people by reminding them that no matter how safe they thought they were someone was always around to put the hoodoo into their existence? Odd people.

  “So, have you made any progress with Scott’s identity?” I asked optimistically.

  “Here’s the story Mr. Montrell,” Vince replied apprehensively, “every time Larron and I tried to get the goods on Scott we hit a wall. We think his profile is phony, someone’s gone through a lot of trouble to make-up certs for this guy.”

  “The man doesn’t exist…well no shit. What the hell am I paying you for? Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Oh he exists all right, just not in the way you and I exist. When you told us how Tommy was killed, Larron and I suspected that any information dragnet on a Fenmore Scott would trigger a trackware that would backwash the probing system.” Vince pointed at the damaged SCaT pads. “As you can see, we tested the theory and some hardware got smoked.”

  “So instead of trying to find something out about Scott’s past,” Larron interceded, “we decided to look at what was going in and out of Nexus, we hoped we could pick up some leads.”

  “Ship manifests for the corporations importing goods to the planet were easy to harvest.” Vince smiled.

  “We didn’t find anything useful there,” Larron continued, “so we focused on the blackmarket for anything out of the ordinary; we found drugs and weapons…basically the kind of contraband you’d expect to be brought into a planet that’s still being developed.”

  “Then I found a small encrypted packing list for a cargo drop that was made in Northern Icarus.” Vince said excitedly.

  “It took us a day to crack the script but we finally managed to decode it.” Larron cut in. “Everything on the list is impossible to get on the street, so someone paid a fortune to get these items.”

  “Talk to me guys.”

  “Black Swan with imploder rings and a transmitter.”

  “What’s Black Swan?”

  “It’s a plastic explosive used exclusively by the Terekian military. You have to have connections to get this kind of tear-ass swag and the device it takes to detonate it. An ounce of Swan can level a city block and leave a thirty-foot deep crater in the ground.”

  “What else?”

  Larron and Vince looked at each other quietly.

  “What else did you find on that list, goddamn it!”

  “A Kirsten Automatic assault pistol, and armor-piercing hollow point rounds. All this was purchased in Fluture last month.”

  “Shit! Any idea who made the buy?”

  “No sir. We looked into it, but it was a dead end.”

  “I’m being played as a pawn.” I slammed my fist on the desktop and made the hackers jump. “If he’s there to take someone out, I don’t want to be implicated. The last thing I want is to have law enforcement on my ass for landing him in Fluture.”

  “Anything else we can do, Mr. Montrell?” Vince asked.

  “I want you boys to break-off your search and lay low here for the rest of the week, all you’re doing is bringing the heat on us when you try to pinpoint this moolie.” I turned to look for one of my bodyguards. “Egone, where are you?”

  “Yes boss?”

  “Get a hold of Max at Gateway and find out when Nikki’s supposed to get back to Earth.”

  “You got it, boss.”

  “Listen to me, Egone,” I said harshly, “the moment Nikki touches down, I need you and six guys to be waiting at the Inter-port to take out Scott.”

  “We’ll be ready for him, Mr. Montrell.”

  “No room for mistakes, understand? Don’t underestimate this bastard. I want you to take him by surprise and I don’t want Nikki hurt, either, get it?”

  “I’ll handle it, boss.”

  “Whatever his business is in Fluture, I don’t want to know about it. As far as I’m concerned, he’s Nexus’ problem. I could give a damn whether or not he makes it back to Earth. I’m done with this son-of-a-bitch, and I want him dead…”

  I jogged down the corridor and made my exit at the side of the building. I slowed to a brisk walk as I approached the lobby of The Orchid.

  I noticed a shift change with the valets, and the one that had greeted me was gone for the night. Even at this hour, the place had people lounging around and clients flowed evenly in and out of the casino.

  I could cross Herron off the list, now I had to figure out how to get to Charon…I take him out of the picture, then Kurlie’s tie to Nexus is broken.

  I reached for my SCaT pad and was going to call Scotty when someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind.

  “Excuse me, Miss...” An older man in a dark suit smiled.

  I felt a sharp sting in my left arm and turned around to see that another man had snuc
k up on me. “Ouch! What was ththaat?” I slurred as I felt my legs slip away from under me. I felt a surge of warmth wash over my body and my vision blurred before everything darkened and I blacked-out.

  When I came to, I found myself in a dim room; my head throbbed with a dull pain, and it was hard to get my eyes to focus on anything. The muscles in my arms were numb and my body felt like lead.

  It took me a minute to realize that my hands were bound over my head and I was suspended from a heavy chain that was looped around a huge hydronic pipe main. My feet dangled about a foot off the grated floor.

  “Wake up!” A male voice echoed.

  I looked up slowly and saw a blurry figure standing in front of me. I wondered how long this drug induced stupor would keep me in a haze.

  “Damn it!” Another voice cussed and I felt his hand pull my left eyelid up to examine my state. “Sheesh! I told you not to use too much juice. She’s high.”

  “Back-off, yhamo, I didn’t give her the full cocktail.”

  “She’s dorked-out!”

  I heard a small snap and coughed as an ammonia capsule was passed under my nose.

  “About time you woke up.”

  “Where am I? What are you doing to me?” I asked as I looked around. The two men from the lobby stood grimly in front of me.

  “Let’s start with the basics. Who are you, young lady?” The older one demanded.

  “Wells. Nikki Wells.”

  “What are you doing in Fluture?”

  “I’m on vacation.”

  “Vacation?” The man asked sarcastically as he held up my Cobalt. “I’m going to ask you again, what are you doing in Fluture?”

  “I got lost on the way to college.”

  “Have it your way.” The older man stepped back and nodded at his partner.

  The younger man in the suit stepped forward and punched me in the stomach three times. I tried to clench my teeth but the wind was knocked out of me with every blow, and I swayed backwards from the impact. I coughed hoarsely and gasped for air as stars danced in front of my eyes.

  “An hour ago we found a coworker of ours in his dressing room,” the older man glowered, “he was doped on crunch and harquinol, and somebody hooked his scrawny ass to a light socket for a massage. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

  The man reached up and slapped my face. “Before he died, he managed to tell us about some psycho-groupie bitch that tortured him. As luck would have it, our surveillance cameras caught you leaving his room.” He sighed and continued. “What we want to know is how much Herron told you. Tell us that, and we put an end to your pain.”

  “The only thing I know,” I muttered weakly as I looked up at him and tried to catch my breath, “is that your receding hairline…really calls attention to your one eyebrow.” I coughed. “You should consider having crop rotation done on your forehead.”

  The older man smiled and shook his head as he looked at his partner. “Such a waste. I’ve lost patience with this one.” He took out my knife and held it in front of me.

  “This look familiar?” He grinned. “Herron said you were going to carve him up with it. I like to play games too, sunshine.” He turned the blade slowly in front of me. “I’m going to ask you one more time, if you don’t tell me what I need to know, I’m going to start cutting off parts of you. Do we understand each other?”

  “Herron told me about..Cybelle…” I whispered faintly as I lowered my head and looked at the floor.

  “Come again?” The man tilted his head.

  “…Cybelle…”

  He took a step toward me as I pulled myself up the chain and kicked his face. The man dropped my knife as he landed on his ass and blood gushed out of his broken nose. His partner pulled out a pistol and pointed it at my head…

  “ENOUGH!” A voice boomed from the entrance of the room. “What the hell are you two doing?”

  It was Jase. He strode in angrily, glared at my captors, then looked at me.

  “IDIOTS!” He barked. “Get her down from there!”

  “Mr. Jase,” the younger one spoke nervously, “this person is responsible for Herron’s death…”

  “I said get her down!”

  The older man reached up and untied me while his cohort gently lowered me to the floor.

  “Mr. Jase, she may be jeopardizing the operation.”

  “She’s part of the operation, you fucking imbecile.” Jase crouched down and dabbed the beads of perspiration from my face with a handkerchief. “What happened to your face, Asoy?”

  “Bah! Who is she, Mr. Jase?”

  “Someone more important than you.” Jase said coolly as he stood up, pulled a pistol with a sound suppressor out of his jacket, and shot the older man in the head.

  His startled partner backed up in fear as he instinctively held his hands in front of his face, “NO! Please…”

  Jase pointed his pistol at the man’s head and pulled the trigger. He paused for a second, then stepped over to me and carefully helped me to my feet. “Can you walk? Come on, we don’t have much time, let’s get you back to Cybelle.”

  My vision blurred as I stood up, then everything around me went hazy and I passed out.

  Scott drove the SS-2 up the winding two-lane street that ascended the eastern ridge of Sertina Valley. The road was lined heavily with tall birch-like trees on both sides and the flora was thick and green along the shoulders.

  He drove with the window down and could smell the sweet fragrance of the flowering plants that flourished in these mountains as the cool air brushed against his face.

  The Avarno was definitely designed for performance and cornered extremely well on the hairpin turns. It was fast and luxurious; a vehicle that fit in with the high-end communities established in the valley.

  He took note of the sparse traffic and slowed down after another car traveling the opposite direction passed him and disappeared from site in his rearview mirror.

  Scott pulled off the street onto a dirt path that cut through the forest. The trail narrowed and the terrain got rougher as he drove further away from the main road. He kept his speed down to avoid kicking-up too much dust as he drove another ten minutes on the isolated pathway.

  He checked the car’s GPS and came to a stop. This was it. It had to be. Scott pulled over to the side and backed the car into a copse of trees and brush. He checked his watch and waited an hour as he scanned his surroundings and memorized the lay of the land.

  It was late afternoon and he watched the shadows shift on the ground as the minutes ticked away. Scott closed his eyes and slowed his breathing as he cleared his mind. He didn’t think about the mission or what he had to do to carry it out.

  There was a part of himself deep inside that he had to find and reconnect with; a part that he had not seen in a long time--a part of another existence when survival was grounded on instinct and cunning, and his actions instilled fear in his prey: the fear of looking over your shoulder for someone who wasn’t there, the fear of being hunted by a predator that had no mercy…

  …he felt himself slip into the fragmented memories of his broken past: a warrior lying motionless in the forest--host to the chill brought by a winter rain the night before, wet leaves against his face as a ground fog eddied lifelessly around him…the cold, indifferent shades of a grey dawn creeping across the ground…a dirty face illuminated by fires leaping against the dark sky as he watched shadows dance through a scope…the crack of high-powered rifles shattering the silence of first light…the split-second expression of release on his adversary’s face as a cloud of red filled the air…the thick, coppery smell of blood, and the silence of the aftermath. Scott opened his eyes and saw the translucent reflection of his face on the windshield. His eyes were cold and dead. He had resurrected the assassin.

  Scott got out of the car and opened the trunk. He looked over the gear he had prepared, took out the ghillie suit, and put it on. He made a few adjustments before he pulled the hood over his head and slipped on his glo
ves.

  He reached down and opened the flat case that contained the parts of the M341 and assembled the Trinity in under a minute. He took the rifle’s twelve-round magazine and inserted the four explosive rounds first, the two armor-piercing hollow points were next, then he took a single round out of his pocket and looked at it.

  It was the one projectile that made the journey with him from Earth. A Halon & Wood two-staged tungsten jacketed hollow point. Flat black with the manufacturers name in yellow lettering stamped into its casing, Scott turned the bullet slowly between his index finger and thumb as he examined it with reverence, he slid it into the clip, and slapped the mag deftly into the rifle. It was time.

  Scott took a few steps back from the car, turned to scan the thickets around him, then vanished silently into the forest.

  He moved through the thick brush and vines quietly as he made his way through the woods. He paid special attention to the landscape and made sure he didn’t leave a trail of broken branches or footprints in the bed of leaves and pine needles as he cut his own path.

  He listened to the chirps and buzzes of birds and insects that surrounded him. Except for the occasional whoop of squirrel monkeys, he was alone and could hear the beat of his own heart as he walked with the M341 held at port. Scott stopped every few minutes just to listen and keep his senses connected with the environment.

  The trees here were bunched close together and their foliage kept it cool in the dimming valley. He had another quarter of a mile before he got to the place he selected as the location to view the strike point.

  Scott glanced at the GPS watch just to get his bearings and make sure he was moving in the right direction. It was getting darker and he wanted to be in position by nightfall to get the Trinity dialed in.

  He could hear the rustle of leaves overhead as a breeze came from the west. He looked up and saw a large group of monkeys skipping noisily through the branches above him. Sertina Valley was still an untapped wilderness rich with wildlife. The communities built on the sides of the mountains displaced many species, but the majority of the valley remained an untouched sanctuary.

  The ground had a gradual slope and Scott could see some of the posh country houses on the opposite side of the valley. There weren’t a lot of homes on the face of the mountain, but the ones that were built were mansions seated in acres of vineyards growing on shelves carved into the face of the massif.