by Devin Hanson
Vito was holding onto Adora with his good hand, and he gaped at Angeline. Then he let go of Adora and reached to his belt for his own stunrod. It was a mistake. Adora had her hands bound in front of her, but she flung herself at Vito with a cry of rage. She head-butted Vito, driving her forehead into his broken arm, then spun in a roundhouse kick that knocked his stunrod flying.
Angeline gave Mateo one last zap with the stunrod to make sure he stayed down, then jumped over the puddle of waste and hauled the cage door shut, trapping Mateo inside. Vito was backing away from Adora, trying to shield his broken arm from her kicks. Angeline dashed past Adora and lunged forward with the stunrod, smashing it into Vito’s stomach.
Vito collapsed with a cry and Angeline rained down blows on him repeatedly until the head of the stunrod sputtered and went out.
“Get these off me,” Adora panted.
Angeline knelt over Vito warily, keeping one eye on his face. He was still conscious, if only just, stunned by the repeated blows. She went through his pockets and found a folding knife, and hurried to cut Adora free.
Adora ran over and grabbed Vito’s stunrod, then grabbed Vito by his good arm. “Help me get him into my cage.”
Angeline grabbed a leg and together they hauled Vito over and locked him up.
“Where’d you get the stunrod?” Adora asked as they struggled to get Vito moved.
“From the jailer, after the marshal killed him.”
“Nicely done.”
“What did you do?”
Angeline turned and found Xinyi staring at them in horror.
“We’re getting the hell out of here,” Adora said.
“Those men… stunrods can leave permanent damage from multiple shocks! You might have killed them!”
“Good.” Adora picked up the spent stunrod and gave it a few experimental swishes, then tossed Angeline Vito’s fully charged one. “You seem pretty handy with one of them, you hold onto the charged one. The dead one is more than enough for me.”
“What about Xinyi?” Angeline asked, nodding toward the girl.
Xinyi cowered away from them, her eyes wide. “I promise I didn’t see anything! I’ll just tell them I was asleep!”
“Listen, you idiot. Those men, they were going to kill us. Harvest our ovaries and throw our corpses into the methane tanks.” Adora rapped the mesh of Xinyi’s cage with the dead rod. “They already killed my friend, and the girl Angeline came here with, along with God only knows how many others before us.”
“I think I know the combination to let her out,” Angeline said, remembering suddenly. “Min was held in a different cage, but it’s possible they all have the same combo.”
“She’ll probably just slow us down,” Adora griped. “We’re wasting time. In a few minutes, people will realize the men are missing. If we’re not gone by then, we’re never getting out of here.”
“I can’t just leave her behind,” Angeline protested. “Let me just try.” She moved to Xinyi’s cage and tried to remember the combination. What had it been? She punched in the numbers from memory and hesitated over the last digit. It had been obscured. “795…6,” she said aloud as she punched the numbers in. The lock beeped angrily, rejecting the code.
“Come on, Angeline! We have to go!”
“Just leave me alone,” Xinyi pleaded.
“Hold on. 7953,” again the lock denied her entry. “Augh! I know it’s one of these!”
Adora grabbed Angeline’s arm. “There’s no time for her. She doesn’t even want to come!”
“She’ll be killed!” Angeline shook off Adora’s hand. “7952,” this time the locked chimed and the light turned green. Angeline shoved the door wide, beckoning to Xinyi. “I did it! Come on, Xinyi!”
Reluctantly, Xinyi came out of the cage and flinched a little when Angeline grabbed her arm. “Just don’t hurt me, okay?”
“Oh for the love of…” Adora threw up her hands and went to the door. She pulled it open and stuck her head out, checking both ways. “It’s clear,” she whispered back to the other two girls. “Come on.”
Angeline followed Adora out into the hallway. She felt exposed, and fear thrilled down her spine. There was no indication of which way would lead to the cluster and freedom. They had eliminated two of Anton’s men, for the moment at least, but who knew how many other people were within the complex?
“Which way?” Angeline asked.
Adora turned in a circle. In both directions, the hallway stretched for thirty or forty yards, studded on both sides with doors. To the left, stairs led downward.
“We go right,” Adora announced. Without waiting to see if the others were following her, Adora set off in that direction.
Angeline followed behind. Xinyi was dragging her heels, looking fearfully at the doors as they passed.
“What is this place?” Xinyi whispered to Angeline.
Angeline slowed, gesturing for the other girl to hurry up. “Later! There isn’t time. We have to get out.”
“I don’t know…”
“For Christ’s sake,” Angeline whispered fiercely. She wanted to shout and slap this idiot around. “They had you in a cage. You think that was for your benefit? These people murder girls!”
Xinyi frowned and turned her head to the side. “Did you actually see it happening? What do you know? You’re just a kid. I bet you’re not even fifteen yet.”
Angeline stared at Xinyi in disbelief. Was she really that stupid? “I’m fourteen,” Angeline said stiffly. “Adora is sixteen. Does it matter? Come on!”
The other girl slowed to a halt, a look of mutiny on her face. “You’re just going to get us in trouble. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
Angeline threw up her hands. “Fine. Go back to your cage, then. I’m sorry I tried to rescue you.”
Xinyi started to say something, but movement down the corridor caught Angeline’s attention. It was Anton. He was far away, nearly sixty yards down the long hallway, but even at that distance Angeline clearly saw the look of surprise and anger on his face when he saw the girls.
Without hesitation, Angeline turned and ran after Adora. If Xinyi didn’t have the wit to take advantage of her rescue, then that was on her. Angeline had already done all that she could.
“Stop!” Anton shouted. “The girls are loose! Stop them!”
There was a bang from down the hallway, followed by a multi-toned shriek that ripped through the air to Angeline’s left. Despite herself, Angeline turned her head and saw Anton had an enormous pistol out and aimed down the hallway.
Xinyi was running toward Anton, one hand pointed back down the hallway toward Angeline. Reflexively, Angeline threw herself to the ground. She had seen enough movies to know that when a gun was pointed in your direction, it was prudent to make yourself as small a target as possible.
Angeline saw the muzzle flare at the same moment another bang crashed down the hallway. Xinyi’s back blossomed red and she pitched forward, tumbling with her forward momentum. Anton was still advancing down the hallway and Angeline forgot her prudence. Small target or not, she had to get away from Anton.
She got up and ran. In school, Angeline had never bothered to play on any of the sports teams. She had never considered herself particularly athletic, and was too busy studying in her honors classes to commit the time. Two weeks ago, running even a short distance would have been exhausting. As she ran from Anton, she found that, rather than being tiring, running felt good. She was breathing easily and her leg muscles felt strong rather than rubbery.
At the top of the corridor, Adora waited for her, peeking around the corner, her eyes wide. Angeline was almost there. Fifteen more yards. Then a door swung open and a man jumped out into the hallway, his arms spread wide to catch her.
Without thinking, Angeline swung the stunrod in her hand at him as hard as she could, with all the strength of her arm and torso. It was a wild swing, and she had forgotten to turn on the power. Still, the rod caught the man on the forearm an
d she heard the brittle crack of his arm breaking. He gave a cry of surprise and pained outrage then Angeline was past him.
Her heart pounded in her chest. Fear gripped her, but it was abstract. She had just seen Xinyi die, but she hadn’t had time to really process it yet. She had always been afraid of Anton and afraid of guns. That Anton was shooting at her was an intellectual fact, not something she really understood as yet. Deep down, she knew that if she stopped to think, terror would overcome her and she would freeze.
Behind her, Angeline heard Anton shouting at the man who had tried to intercept her to get out of the way. Putting on a last burst of speed, Angeline made the corner and Adora pulled her to safety.
“So much for sneaking. What happened to Xinyi?”
Angeline shook her head. “Anton shot her.” Her ears were ringing from the gunshots and Adora’s voice sounded as if Angeline were under water.
Adora peeked around the corner and jerked her head back as another gunshot cracked down the hallway and dug a divot from the concrete wall. “He’s coming,” Adora said unnecessarily. “I guess we’re going this way.” She nodded down the corridor they were in. The other way would require crossing the open space, impossible with Anton shooting at them.
Angeline ran after Adora, but it quickly became obvious that the hallway they had chosen was a dead end. They slowed to a stop when they neared the end of the hallway. There was nowhere else to run.
Anton came charging around the corner and skidded to a stop when he saw the girls were trapped. There was a wild, toothy smile on his face as he raised the gun again. The barrel leveled off directly at Angeline and she stared down the bore of the gun. It was enormous and black, seemingly wide enough to swallow her whole.
“End of the road,” Anton panted.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
Video journal of Susan Everard, eldest daughter of Dr. Annette Everard. 4 August, 2168.
“This is to be my final vlog.” Susan Everard looks old, far older than her 72 years. Her skin is sallow, her blue eyes fogged with cataracts. Behind her, a dialysis machine whirrs, fighting a losing battle against sepsis. Her kidneys had both failed two years ago. Off camera, someone is moving about and whispering urgently.
“Mother turned me down for the Helix Rebuild. I’ve never told this story before, but I’m dying. Secrets mean little to me now. My younger sister, Macy, was the first person to take mother’s tests and the second person to receive the Rebuild.
“Imagine my shock when mother told me I couldn’t receive the treatment! This was all I had been looking forward to my entire life. I knew mother would succeed with her research; I had all the faith of a loving child backing that up. I just never thought I wouldn’t get the treatment.”
Susan hitches herself up in her bed, irritably trying to find a comfortable position. Her shirt rides up, revealing the two oophorectomy scars on her stomach. She settles down, not comfortable but recognizing the futility in trying. “I was bitter. Who wouldn’t be? I hated mother, I hated Macy. And as the December Protocol came about and they were preparing to leave Earth, I felt vindicated. They had to leave, while I could stay.”
She gets a faraway look in her eyes, and a small smile twists her mouth. “I’ve had a good life, short as it is. I hope their lives on Venus are happy. I doubt they think of me anymore, and who could blame them? They will live forever, while I will die slowly. Still. There are times I wish I had answered the questions differently. Who knows? Maybe I would be young still, living in a floating city on a planet far away.”
Susan Everard died later that night.
Marcus Truman stepped through the airlock and smiled as the hot humidity washed over him. He had a fresh ten thousand credits sitting pretty in his bank account. He had just placed a down payment on a nice apartment with enormously arching ceilings. Tomorrow, he would move into the apartment and spend the afternoon furniture shopping.
Life was good.
Dr. Bannister waved to him as he walked into the hydroponic farm, then bent back over a plant. She was wearing a dark glass facemask, almost like a welding helmet, to protect her eyes from the glaring light fixtures overhead.
Marcus wandered over to her and watched as she worked. She was pruning, her shears darting through the verdant foliage unerringly. She finished the row she was working on and stood, easing her back.
“Marcus, how are you?”
“I’m good, thanks. I’m surprised you don’t have a robot to do that for you.”
Dr. Bannister shrugged. “It’s harder to educate an AI to do a decent job pruning than you might think. Besides, I enjoy the work. So, tell me about your trip! I take it everything went well?”
“Better than well!” Marcus grinned expansively. “The client had another small job for me, and I came away with quite the bonus.”
“Oh? Well that’s good. Referrals are always a sign of a job well done.”
“Yes.” Marcus’ grin slipped a little as he remembered the girls in their cages. “Though I guess I also discovered why they were so keen on discretion.”
He opened his mouth to say more, but Dr. Bannister held up a hand, cutting him off. “Better stay discrete.”
“What? Oh. Right, plausible deniability and all that.”
Dr. Bannister stared at him for a long moment then shook her head. “Marcus…”
“Don’t worry. This isn’t my first rodeo.”
She sighed. “This isn’t Earth, Marcus. The motto of the colonial marshals is Justice through Action. You’re more likely to get a bullet between the ribs than an arrest if they find you guilty of something.”
Marcus shrugged, his good mood soured somewhat. “There isn’t anything to find. I delivered the package as instructed then the client gave me another delivery. I never looked inside the packages. If there is some legal action down the line, I’m just the delivery guy; there’s nothing to accuse me of other than being punctual.”
“If you say so, Marcus. I’m glad things went well for you. Have you heard back from Grendal? I understand she often has deliveries that need to be made.”
“Not yet. I was looking forward to some down time. I’ve got a whole new life to set up. No small thanks to you.”
Dr. Bannister waved her hand dismissing it, but she smiled. “Speaking of thanks, you have mine for agreeing to my proposal.”
“How else could I have repaid you for your timely assistance?” Marcus shrugged. “Mars needs more trees, anyway. I’m just glad my water can be put to a good use.”
“The very best. Would you like to see them? Your new trees?”
“Our new trees,” Marcus corrected her with a smile.
Dr. Bannister laughed and led the way into the back, a place where Marcus had yet to go. They walked through a small airlock and entered a nursery, where young plants were sprouted from seeds and prepared to be entered into the larger hydroponic system. She led the way through the nursery to where a tray held an array of rock wool growth cubes, each one topped with a miniature sapling, barely three inches tall, the leaves delicate and bright green.
Marcus marveled over them, crouching down to view them up close. “They’re much further along than I thought!”
“I’ll be honest,” Dr. Bannister said with a smile, “As soon as you told me how much water you had available, I started these seedlings. It was a gamble, but I was confident you’d come around. And what’s the worst that would happen? I have to terminate the saplings, no big loss.”
“You had me figured out pretty quick. What kind of trees are these?”
“These are all apples.”
Marcus stood and noticed the next tray was full of trees as well. “So many! How many did you plant?”
“Oh, they won’t all grow to full tree size. Some of these are root stock, dwarf crabs, mostly, while the others will be grafts. Each tree will have three or four separate varieties on it. When you have limited resources and infinite time, you make the most of every opportunity. There will be eig
ht trees grown to full size, once all is said and done. I’m having a new chamber prepared specifically for an orchard. Eight trees is only the beginning. As I find more water, I’ll expand the orchard with more trees.”
Dr. Bannister continued, expanding on her plans for the new orchard. Her eyes were far away, consumed by the vision she had. Marcus watched her, secretly jealous that she had such an all-consuming passion. Running packages and being a facilitator was interesting, but it wasn’t an obsession. Maybe someday he would find his own niche. In the meantime, being a part-owner of Vastitas Orchard would eventually return dividends and make his life easier in the long run.
On the way out of the farm, they stopped by the field to check on the potatoes. It had been nine days since the first planting and the new potato plants stood nearly knee high already. The light was a glaring fuchsia that made him squint. Beneath, the leaves of the plants looked almost black, dark with chlorophyll.
Marcus was proud of them, and though he’d had no hand in actually planting the crop, it was his water that had made them possible. Still, as a dream, it lacked the overarching grandeur of the orchard. It would, however, give him his first true source of income, something the orchard wouldn’t provide for many years.
He bid Dr. Bannister goodbye and wandered back to his apartment. The high-ceilings and spacious, open rooms seemed luxurious to him. Back on Earth, his house had been five times the size of his current apartment, but it had never struck him as particularly opulent.
A knock sounded on his door. Curious to see who would be calling on him when he hadn’t even properly moved into the apartment yet, he went and opened the door. A tall woman stared down at him, head and shoulders taller than he was.
“Can I help you?” he asked politely.
