Edge Of The Future

by Andria Stone

  His short friend to the left said, “We just want Blondie’s money.”

  The third guy made a rude gesture with his baton. “Well, I might want some of that lily-white ass.”

  “Oh, no, gentlemen. His ass belongs to me.” Axel gave them his best cocky smile. He took a half step forward, winked at the leader, beckoning with his index finger.

  Scary came at Axel with the baton. As if dancing to choreographed moves, Axel grabbed it with his right hand, and turned it inward shocking his opponent.

  Scary yelped, bending forward.

  Axel grabbed his collar, pushing Scary’s head down so he could deliver a powerful knee to his nose. Axel heard nasal cartilage disintegrate. He let go.

  Scary fell. One down.

  Axel wheeled around to see Mark fending off the others.

  He chose the nearest one, pulling Shorty away.

  He and Mark were fighting in tandem now, back to back. Conditioned reflexes took over.

  Axel nabbed Shorty’s sleeve, yanked him forward then down. The guy tried to retreat. Axel used his leg to trip him while pushing on the chest, and pulling on the arm.

  Shorty lost his balance. Axel lashed out with a swift kick to the torso and sent him flying into the wall.

  Shorty screamed.

  Oops. Axel might have cracked some ribs. Two down.

  Choking sounds came from behind Axel. He swung around to watch Mark straddling number three; death grip on the guy’s neck with one hand while he pounded him with the other. It was getting messy. Evidence of blood spatter, and an eyeball that didn’t look normal.

  He swatted Mark on the shoulder to get his attention. “Stop playing. Finish it.”

  “Well, he wanted some of me. So I’m giving it to him.” Mark delivered a knockout blow. He wiped his hands on the man’s shirt, stood, adjusting his clothes.

  “Is any of that blood yours? We don’t want to leave any evidence.”

  Mark inspected his hands. “No broken skin.”

  They gazed down at the trio of would-be thieves sprawled out like demolished bowling pins.

  Mark waved a vague salute. “Good night, boys. Sweet dreams.”

  They left the scene, and walked without speaking until Axel broke the silence. “Blondie’s money?”

  “I won a little gambling.”

  Axel shook his head in disgust. “You’re not up for this, Warren.”

  “Look, I’m sorry. I just needed a little space.”

  “No. You’re not sorry. Not. One. Damned. Bit. You’ll do it again the first chance you get. You’re just a self-destructive, rich dick. I’m not going to let you take me down with you. You’re not going to be the reason I lose my stripes, or get sent back to Terra, or get kicked out of the military. You have orders. I have orders. We are going to follow our orders. When you don’t, I’m going to beat the crap out of you. Maybe that’s the only way you’ll learn.” The more Axel talked, the angrier he became. He had to let his anger go. He was teaching a lesson. He had to be in the right mindset to accomplish the desired results.

  They approached the intersection leading to the Gym. Mark started past it. Axel reached out, put a hand on his shoulder. “Oh, hell, no. We’re taking a little detour—this way.”

  A few more steps and Axel herded Mark into the deserted gym, steering him over to the mats where he peeled off his jacket, t-shirt, vest, and gun. Axel could tell Mark had been drinking, so he wouldn’t kill him. He’d just make Mark wish he were dead. Trying not to enjoy this would be a wasted effort. He could hardly keep from grinning now.

  Mark followed suit. “We’re really going to do this?”

  “Hell, yes. You’re an egotistical, condescending, arrogant bastard. I’m going to beat your ass with extreme pleasure.” Axel focused on provoking and intimidating him. He adopted a boxing stance, something he’d never done with Mark before.

  Mark grinned and did likewise.

  “Lesson number two. No hitting in the face. The bruises are too hard to explain.”

  That seemed to throw Mark off-guard for a second. “What’s lesson number one?”

  “Disregard Lesson number two.” Axel hit him in the jaw with a powerful left hook that sent him sprawling on the mat. “Merry Christmas, dumbass.”

  Total shock spread across Mark’s face. He scrambled to get up.

  Before he had a chance to square off, Axel hit him with a right cross to the opposite side of the jaw. “Happy Birthday, dickhead.”

  Mark didn’t go down that time. Instead, he came back with a lucky punch to Axel’s face. “That’s for calling me a bastard.”

  A slugfest ensued. Both men threw blows to the ribcage, torso, abdomen, and kidneys.

  Mark went down multiple times, but kept getting up, until he couldn’t. He’d lasted longer than Axel had expected. Not only could Mark take a punch, he knew how to deliver one, too. He was persistent. And he had heart. All admirable qualities.

  Maybe Axel could make a soldier out of him, yet. “Get up, damn it. I’m not carrying you back to the barracks.” He stood over Mark. Fists clenched, breathing heavy, hair plastered to his head, and rivers of sweat running down his body.

  Mark lay beaten, spread-eagled, defeated. “I can’t.”

  “You want respect; you earn it.”

  Chapter 8

  Axel commed Kamryn. “You still awake?”

  “Yeah,” she whispered. “How’d it go?”

  “There was foreplay. Three dirtbags ambushed him in the mall. I showed up in time to help him out of that little skirmish first.”

  “Two fights?”

  “Yes. But the second one was epic.” Axel paused, feeling for a sore spot near his left kidney. “Listen, this is Monday. If we’re called into the colonel’s office this morning for a briefing, Mark’s going to need something to cover bruises, fix a split lip, and pain meds—plenty of those.”

  “No problem. I can do that. Be there in a flash.” She giggled. “I gotta see this.”

  Mark came out of the shower. “Thought I heard voices.”

  “Put on some pants. A nurse is coming by.”

  Axel took a five minute shower, dressed in exercise togs.

  Mark was stretched out on the bed when a knock sounded at the door.

  Axel opened it. Kamryn and Axel exchanged glances, as she prodded Eva inside and pointed to a chair. Eva sat quietly, watching.

  Axel leaned against the wall beside her, arms crossed, trying not to show any amusement.

  Kamryn approached Mark, and motioned for him to stand. He groaned, but obliged.

  “Hold up your arms and turn around.”

  Though visibly humiliated, Mark did as instructed.

  “You have more bruises than a rotten banana.” Kamryn touched him with experienced hands, asking many times, “Does this hurt?”

  Mark kept grunting and shaking his head, then he flinched…“Ouch.”

  “Another accident—there—and you’ll need to see a medic. Now, sit down so I can fix your face.” She produced a MedKit plus a small blue pouch. Mark winced as she applied salves, medical grade super glue, and makeup over his eye and jaw line. She finished with a spray fixative to set everything so it wouldn’t rub off. She handed him four yellow pills. “Take two now. One tonight. One tomorrow.”

  He managed a small smile. “Thank you, Kamryn.” He stood, dry swallowed two.

  “This makes twice now that you’ve gotten your ass kicked in a week. Are you learning anything?”

  “Yeah, not to fight with cyborgs or sergeants.”

  Kamryn laughed. A hearty, robust laugh. It seemed to clear the air.

  Mark gave her a sheepish grin.

  Suddenly, all four comms received a message to report to Gen. Yates’s office at zero eight hundred hours.

  “Perfect timing.” Axel opened the door for them. “We’ll meet you in the dining hall for breakfast in a few minutes, then go report in.

  ***

  Yates’s office had about every amenity imaginable, pl
us an impressive Italian mural scene in greens and ivory, an ornate wooden desk, a leather couch, and a conference table with a dozen chairs. After formalities, the general closed the door, and invited them over to his table. A steaming carafe of coffee with mugs, and cookies loaded with large bits of chocolate sat on a tray in the middle. He seemed to be the polar opposite of Harben; friendly, tall, lean, with the weathered face of an old American cowboy.

  Without assistance from a cyber, he had no trouble establishing a link from tablet to vid screen to record the meeting. “I hope your trip to Lunar was uneventful, and you’re finding everything you need here.” He poured himself a coffee before passing the carafe around. “Please help yourselves to the cookies. My wife made them.”

  Mark liked him already.

  “I’ve received several updates to the original briefing concerning Operation Pandora. The most recent being a notice just this morning. The good news is a non-human cyborg combatant was taken down while attempting to steal classified data from an obscure research facility in Washington State. Both captains should consider themselves lucky. The bad news is several of our armored personnel suffered life-threatening casualties before subduing this one. We don’t know if there were more. I’m told it was pure happenstance our people were at that location. It wasn’t scheduled. If they hadn’t been, we can’t speculate what might have transpired.

  “Also, evidence has surfaced that a woman—one suspiciously similar in appearance to the missing Dr. Beth Coulter—was responsible for recruiting several of the dead terrorists which attacked your CAMRI installation. There’s an All Points System Bulletin out for her arrest. That includes Terra, Luna, Mars, and all the Orbitals.”

  Eva kicked Mark under the table, twice.

  “You’re our guests here.” He almost sounded as if Lunar Base 3 was an upscale vacation mecca. “Your safety is our responsibility, and we take it seriously. To lessen any threat ratio, you two will be working together in a secured, stand-alone lab in a restricted section. This means the sergeants won’t be spread out in two different locations. It’s fortuitous that we’ve just completed a system-wide security update to include a retinal scanning entry to every lab. I believe we have all the avenues covered.” He stood, gesturing toward the door. “Lieutenant Scarlett McDonnell is waiting outside to take you there now. Let her know if you need anything.”

  McDonnell was an auburn-haired beauty. Tall, curvy, with unusually long hair piled on top of her head in some intricate fashion, strands of loose hair framing her face. And she smelled good. Axel was looking at her, too.

  She escorted them to a small hover vehicle.

  Eva elbowed him. “We really need to talk.”

  “As soon as we’re alone.”

  McDonnell drove for a good fifteen minutes, talking nonstop, acting as a tour guide, until they approached a checkpoint labeled Restricted Access Section 9. Two security guards verified their IDs and fingerprints, before allowing them to pass. Within minutes they stopped at a room with a door simply labeled Classified. They all entered. Two vid screens large enough to be windows were mounted on opposite walls; one showing New York street scenes, the other Canadian ski slopes. He and Eva inspected every shelf, drawer, and cabinet, taking inventory of each piece of equipment. Someone had even thought to bring in an air freshener, which made him wonder what had previously been in the lab.

  Mark started asking questions. “What if we need a piece of equipment?”

  “We have an extensive geodatabase of research equipment. Depending on location, it could be here in twenty-four to forty-eight hours.”

  “Where are our files?”

  “I’m told all your files are stored on data chips, in a safe, in our security office until you sign for them. Also, these systems are SAPS; stand-alone power supply not connected to any outside net so they cannot be hacked.”

  Are we monitored in here?

  “Twenty-four/seven.”

  “Are we monitored out there?”

  “Twenty-four/seven.”

  “Living underground, spied on constantly, chipped, no privacy, no sunshine or fresh air. I feel like a bug in a petri dish.”

  “I know, Captain Warren. It takes some getting used to. By the time you do, your rotation is over, and it’s time to go back to Terra.”

  “How are we supposed to get over here to work every day?”

  “We’re looking for closer accommodations for you. On our way back, we’ll stop to get all your retinal scanning done and pick up your files from the security office.”

  ***

  Mark chose a table for two in the dining hall, forcing the sergeants to eat apart from them. He deliberately positioned himself so he could see them, and Eva, at the same time.

  Eva couldn’t contain herself. “I want to know what happened to you last night. First, we need to talk about what Gen. Yates said this morning.”

  His jaw ached. Chewing hurt, so he picked at his food, then pushed his plate away. “Your friend, Danny, implied the Europa mission’s failure had something to do with neuroscience—”

  “No, Mark. He didn’t imply anything. You don’t know him. I do. He was spelling it out. Neuroscience. Plain and simple.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? I just didn’t want it to be true.” Mark looked squarely at Eva. “Here’s my epiphany: I helped save the woman’s life who was instrumental in my brother’s death.” He hung his head, fighting back a lump in his throat. His eyes stung. If Mark ever got near that woman again, he vowed to rip her heart out. “It wouldn’t surprise me if she masterminded the whole damned thing. Kidnapping the real Beth Coulter. Engineering the metal cyborgs. Recruiting terrorists. Stealing research. Sabotaging Eric’s mission and killing 152 people. All while she’s hell-bent on her way to world-building and terraforming the outer reaches before anybody else gets there.” He wanted to tell her the rest of it. He just didn’t have the strength. “Does that about sum it up?”

  Eva stared at him. The color ebbed from her face. “I need a drink.”

  Mark spotted McDonnell with her empty lunch tray. He flagged her over. “My colleague isn’t feeling well. Is there anywhere we can get a bottle of medicinal brandy.”

  The lieutenant studied Eva, before glancing back toward the sergeants. “Might your guardians object?” Her hazel eyes sparkled with mirth.

  “We outrank them.” Mark almost choked at the word “guardians.”

  “Yes, sir. I understand. Be back in a moment.”

  “What are we going to do?” Eva leaned in, whispering, “Should we tell someone? Except, we don’t have proof. So would anyone believe us?”

  Mark tried to calm her. “It only took us a week to figure out who, how and why with just bits—pieces of information. Now we concentrate on putting the rest of the puzzle together before we share it. Right? Besides, Eva, we’re the scientists she was stealing from. We’re smarter. We can do this.”

  The lieutenant returned with a towel and a cup. She stood blocking the sergeant’s view. After emptying mints from the cup onto the table, she handed it to Eva, then showed Mark the concealed bottle underneath the towel.

  He poured a single shot in Eva’s cup, and a double in his glass. He drank it, as he slipped the bottle inside his shirt.

  Eva downed hers in two gulps, made a face, and popped several mints in her mouth.

  Mark patted her hand for moral support.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Eva said. “I seem to be having a bad day. I’ve had several of them lately.”

  “Well, maybe this will cheer you up. We’ve located living accommodations not far from your new lab. Shall we go take a look?”

  They all trouped out, boarded the little vehicle and sped over to the new location.

  Eva elbowed him in the ribs.

  He flinched. “You’re beginning to act like my sister.”

  She grinned, as if it were a compliment. “What about last night?”

  “I went out alone. Being under surveillance twenty-four hour
s a day is nerve-racking, it’s restrictive, it’s not normal. I’m almost thirty years old. I haven’t had a keeper since elementary school. And I’ve had a few weird days myself, recently. I needed to unwind. Axel disapproved. I was penalized.”

  Eva’s eyes widened. “He’s dangerous.”

  “Who? Axel? He’s a soldier. They’re trained to be lethal.”

  “I know things. I’ve seen things—growing up. My minor was in psychology. You be careful. Trust me.”

  The pretty lieutenant pressed an item into his hand as he exited the hover vehicle. He opened his palm and glanced at it. A small key, maybe to a safety deposit box, or a jewelry chest. Or, a liquor cabinet. Mark quickly surveyed his new quarters, noting they were even better than the ones at CAMRI. All four of them, now had separate lodgings, complete with a bath. Mark’s had sandy colored walls, white ceilings, comfy furniture, a large vid screen over a desktop, with a cabinet underneath.

  The key fit the lock. It was truly a well-stocked liquor cabinet.

  Hallelujah.

  McDonnell had just endeared herself to him. Big time.

  He could hear Eva squeal from across the hall. Good for her. She deserved a little happiness, too. She and Mark seemed to be riding one hell of a roller coaster. Thrills and spills. No sign of a level playing field, yet, but he was working on it.

  ***

  That afternoon Mark and Eva spent a few hours in the new lab downloading all their data, and making sure everything interfaced. They kept their voices low, so as not to be picked up by any audio recording devices.

  He whispered, “Have you devised a theory, yet?”

  She nodded.

  “If I were to say neural implants…”

  “Oh, my god,” she hissed. “Yes, exactly. Do you want to hear my unabridged synopsis?”

  “Go for it.”

  “Did the crew of the Europa flight have neural implants? If so, did B.C. have access to programming any of those neural chips? In order to sabotage the mission, she’d only have to hack into just one—the weakest link—then send a signal, or a little virus into the brain, straight to the implant—from there to the whole network. They’d all be vulnerable to a few lines of code.”