The Hard Choice
Page 2
Her eyes met Hanoos’s. Another thought struck her—one more thing she had forgotten to plan for.
An exit strategy.
“Captain, like it or not”—she pointed at the terminal—“if you remain obstinate, you and the ship are all going to be toast in… fifty minutes. You have your last chance.” She turned on her boots, motioned to Hanoos. “Come.”
“You know what they’re going to do, don’t you?” came the captain’s voice behind her. Hanoos hissed, but Ruma placed a hand on his arm. “Your Arkos have asked us to help them with intel gathering. These… Misguided have been planning to capture a spaceship for some time, hoping to rain terror on innocents from the skies, smash into Arkos GHQ itself once all else fails. You sure you want to be aligned to people like these?”
Ruma turned her head to meet the captain’s eyes. “You have no idea what motivates a businesswoman. Give up the codes, or what happens will be on you.”
Offering a quick prayer to Alf, the unseen ancient God who only seemed to enter her life when shit hit the fan, she and Hanoos stormed out of the airlock, giving the captain one last chance to recant.
* * *
“Are you out of your fracking mind?” Ruma whirled at Hanoos the moment they entered the Zrivisi staff room.
Hanoos grinned. Red hot anger ran up Ruma’s spine. Gritting her teeth, she slapped the Misguided on his face so hard it sent spittle flying. When Hanoos charged at her, she raised the gun at his face.
“Why is your plasma rifle’s safely still off, Hanoos?”
He shrugged. “Why do you care? You want to leave Doonya, be on your merry way? You’re gonna get it. Keep to the spoils of your labour and do not overwork your pretty mind over the rest.”
She slapped him again. “Things have changed. I’m gonna need an answer before we go ahead with anything!”
His eyes hardened. “These aliens are abominations, cursed monsters in Alf’s universe. God placed man at the top of the food chain for a reason and sent his blessed prophet, Gulatu Koza, to us to preach His word. There is to be no Judgement Day unless man is restored to the rightful place he’s meant to occupy and—”
She laughed. Despite the pain flaring up in her head, she couldn’t contain the mirth. “You really claim to be following this prophet dead eight hundred years?” She raised a hand. “Wait, are these even your own thoughts or just some propaganda you’ve memorised?”
“Doesn’t make it any less true,” he said.
She pressed her lips, dropped the hand containing the gun. “This is no Alfi temple. I am not here to argue theology or philosophy. Follow my lead. Let’s get the codes and get out of here. No need to… cause any more violence than need be.”
He kept quiet.
“Alf curse you,” she said, turning away to pour herself a glass. The warm liquid ran down her gullet, settling comfortably in her stomach. Not grease, then.
Ruma glanced at the terminal again. Was there time to try and hack her way through to the captain’s codes? She rubbed her temples. “Hanoos, do you have family?”
The question seemed to unsettle the giant, who had poured himself yet another glass. “A wife. Two kids.”
“Wow,” she said. “One more thing I hadn’t expected. Do they know what you’re up to?”
“Only Alf knows.”
She laughed. “A coward appeals to God when he doesn’t have a good answer.”
“A believer with the power of faith is no coward,” he said, no doubt recalling some other nugget of wisdom he had picked up from one of the twisted Alfi preachers that made up the Misguided.
“Oh lord,” she muttered, “where have you landed me?”
“Love, why are we wasting time?” Hanoos demanded, throwing the empty glass to the side. “We don’t have time, like you said. Let me start skinning them one by one, peel them back limb by limb to see what lies underneath, and that fracker of a captain is going to sing before you know it.”
“That’s not how I do business.”
He laughed. “This is no place for business. We’ve a mission, a job to do, no matter what the cost.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Something your prophet would agree with?”
Grunting, Hanoos rose from the chair, began pacing the room and reciting verses from the Alfi scrolls.
She glanced at her terminal again. Time waited for no one. A mere thirty minutes remained before something had to give way. She dabbed at her throat, feeling the perspiration building up there. Just the two of them were in a room meant to house a dozen tall Zrivisi, yet still it felt claustrophobic to her.
“Does he speak the truth, this Zrivisi captain?” she asked.
Hanoos froze mid-stride, turned to face her. “So what if it is?”
The casualness of his answer made her blood freeze. “Are you… are the Misguided really going to fire at cities from space?”
“Nothing to you, love,” Hanoos sneered. “Before anything happens, you get to fly far away from this all.”
She opened her jaw, closed it. Was there any reasoning to be done with a drone, an automaton who repeated drivel that kept pouring out of his mouth without stop?
“Come,” he said. “Try your way one more time. Then we start mine.”
His way. She shuddered at the thought of the two Zrivisi lying dead in the airlock. She had never liked the aliens—in part because of the Zrivisi attitude to her kind of business—but still, this wasn’t what she wanted.
“Hanoos, if they don’t budge, we’ve still got time to get away.”
He scoffed. “Not going to happen.”
“Don’t worry about them having seen your face. I… can ask them to promise they wouldn’t reveal your features.”
“Love, this isn’t the time to get cold feet,” he growled. “It’s a… business transaction, as you call it. We both get something out of it.”
“Do we?” she said, but Hanoos was already walking away.
She followed him.
* * *
No one attacked them this time they entered the airlock. Except for the captain, no other Zrivisi met their eyes. Gone were the pride and stiff backs, replaced by resignation and the stink of death.
Captain Ujayna xol Zeresi cocked his head to the side, his eyes softer than she remembered. A soul who had made peace with his lot. An admirable but incredibly irritating trait. Something she could have used to her advantage, had there been time and more accommodating company.
Hanoos continued towards the Zrivisi crew, his gait menacing, each step sending thunderclaps against her own heart. She half raised a hand to call him back, then let it drop.
“Captain, start speaking,” Hanoos growled, raising his rifle at the Zrivisi woman. “Or she gets it in the left hand. Then the right, then the arms.”
The captain turned his head towards the Zrivisi woman.
“Do not give up the codes,” she said, the strength of her voice taking Ruma by surprise. “Not unless the Messiah himself orders you.”
Instead of shooting the woman, Hanoos raised the rifle aloft, then brought it down on her knee with a great force. It made contact with a sickening thud. The Zrivisi woman screamed, her shriek needing no universal translator to get the pain across. The captain trembled, fat tears leaking through the yellow eyes.
Hate filled Ruma’s heart. Hatred for the Zrivisi and their insolent ways, this unwillingness to see reason and know when they were beaten.
And hatred at the man who was her partner.
Business didn’t carry many rules. The ends always justified the means—well, almost always, so long as one could justify them without too much trouble. She shook her head, glanced at the countdown.
00:20:11
“Hanoos,” she called. “Turn around. It’s time to go.”
He did turn but didn’t step away. “Go? Are you out of your mind?”
She sighed. “They’ve called our bluff. Unless we’re outta here in the next twenty minutes, this spaceport will be swarming with Arkos and Zrivi
si ships.”
“No good,” he said, turning back to the woman. She shrank, but not enough to dodge yet another sickening thud.
“Hanoos!”
“What?” he asked, not turning to look at her.
“We gotta go.”
He sneered. “If we are, I’m gonna smash their heads first. And then watch their bits scatter to the sands when the bomb goes off.”
Ruma licked her lips. This was a crossroads, a far bigger event than what she had planned. All these years of preparation, of striking uneasy alliances, had led to this second, and now the next few moments would change the trajectory of her life.
Was she ready to give it all up?
“Hanoos, turn around. Let’s go.”
The Misguided raised his rifle one more time.
“Do not strike her!”
“Or else?”
Ruma sighed, finally beaten. She didn’t like the cards she was left with, but she had no choice. Even in business, sometimes one could go too far. She raised her gun. “Turn around and see for yourself.”
Hanoos whirled around, the movement cautious, precise. Sunlight filtering from the viewports cast his profile aglow. His eyes widened at the gun in her hands.
“Put that down, love, before you hurt yourself.”
“Ruma,” she said, shaking her head. “My name is Ruma. And trust me, I do know how to use this.”
He took a step towards her. “Put it away.”
She raised the gun, a shake creeping into her hand. “I will, once you’ve dropped the rifle and exited the airlock.”
He took yet another step. “Are you really going to side with these alien scum over us, a group who’ve supported you this long?”
She forced out a laugh she didn’t feel. “A farmer buying bread from the grocer doesn’t suddenly become his friend. We’ve done business before. Nothing less. Nothing more.”
He scoffed and crept ever closer. “Nonsense.” He probably would have offered more profound thoughts, but she doubted he had the faculty to do so, even when he was sober.
“I don’t like complications, Hanoos.”
“Nor do I.”
Hanoos’s hand darted, the movement surprisingly swift, but it wasn’t fast enough. Ruma pressed the trigger, felt the slight shudder of the recoil, saw red bloom in the Misguided’s forehead. For a second, the giant stared at her, his eyes disbelieving. Then his body sank face-first to the bloody floor.
She exhaled. One bullet spent. One more to go.
“Please, don’t shoot us!” screamed the wounded Zrivisi woman.
Ruma took a step towards the crew. Then she raised the gun at the countdown terminal. Maybe, just maybe, there would be another opportunity for the one she was about to lose.
She paused, drew a long breath. Taking a careful aim, she shot at the red cable connecting the terminal to the bomb.
The Divine Space Series
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Ruma Nuway appears prominently in the “Divine Space” duology intended for release in Aug 2018.
The completed duology charts the life of Gulatu Koza, last prophet of Alf who finds himself in the future (Ruma’s world), in the midst of an inter-species war.
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About the Author
Fuad Baloch is an emerging author of science fiction and fantasy novels.
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