The Rift Rider

by Mark Oliver

  When the head came floating towards him, Charlie would allow himself a good look at the buttocks bouncing away in front to him. If he concentrated hard enough, Executive Ko's projection would fade from view, leaving only Charlie and the beautiful behind before him. The tightly wrapped bottom represented all that was good in life. To Charlie hope was a bottom-shaped torch in the darkness.

  Finally, Awani stopped running. Charlie, failing to react in time, slammed right into her, knocking them both over. They landed in a heap, with Charlie's sweat-covered chest on top of her face.

  "Idiot," she said, pushing him away. Her beautiful features twisted into a grimace as she wiped the sweat of her cheeks.

  "I'm sorry," Charlie said.

  Awani got to her feet, brushed herself down and said, sharply, "Next time, Passenger, be more careful."

  Charlie stretched out on the floor, the surface cool against his skin. He breathed deeply, pulling the air down into his aching lungs. "Will do," he said between breaths. "You know, you're one hell of a runner."

  She said nothing, and activated the 3D map in her palm.

  Bei arrived a moment later. He looked more out of breath than Charlie.

  "Age is killer," he said, glancing down at Charlie. He had his hands against his hips and his chest was heaving. "What's your excuse?"

  "This is the spot," Awani said, showing the image to Bei.

  "Excellent." Bei prodded Charlie with a boot. "Come on. Live or die, you'll have time to rest later."

  "Quiet," Awani said. "There's someone coming."

  Bei lifted Charlie to his feet.

  "Shit," Awani said, snatching Bei's rifle. "Put your hands behind your back and keep your eyes down."

  A short distance away, six uniformed figures emerged from around a corner. A female soldier, black uniformed and ponytailed, led five fringed male soldiers. She had the self-important step of an office manager. Behind her, the male troops, stooped and grim-faced, looked as if they had just suffered a harsh tongue-lashing.

  When Ponytail caught sight of Awani and her two captives, she narrowed her eyes, and said, "What the hell are you bringing captives down here for?"

  Awani shrugged and said, "Following orders, Executive."

  "The hell you are," Ponytail said, approaching with a face like thunder. "We've been told to take all recaptured prisoners to the upper deck holding cell." She shook her head. "Are all you fringes idiots?"

  Awani said nothing. Beside her, Bei and Charlie, silently studied their feet.

  "And why are you alone? It's against protocol to escort prisoners without a companion."

  "My companion was killed taking these two."

  "Regrettable," Ponytail said, "but wholly avoidable I'm sure." She eyed the two prisoners. "They don't look like much to me. Just an aged gigolo and a hairless rent boy. But as I'm feeling helpful, I'll leave you one of my soldiers, and you can escort the prisoners to the upper deck together."

  "Thank you, Ma’am," Awani said.

  Ponytail nodded, and to the soldier standing directly behind her, said, "You there. Figep Treedup, isn't it?"

  The male nodded, "Yes, Ma’am."

  "You are to assist this soldier with her prison escort. Understood?"

  "Yes, Ma’am."

  "Well, don't just stand there, you moron. Get to it."

  The soldier stood to attention and stepped towards the prisoners.

  Charlie held his breath as the fringe approached. The moment he saw the unrestrained wrists, they would be right in it. Charlie twisted to keep his back out of sight. Beside him, Bei did the same.

  Ponytail looked at Charlie and Bei, scowling as she ran her eyes over them. Charlie's heart leapt in the chest, fearing he had somehow given them all away.

  But the woman soon turned her scowl back to Awani. "What's your name soldier?"

  "Gither Mott."

  "Well Soldier Gither Mott, I will overlook this incident. But if I see or hear of you breaking Corporation protocol again, I'll have you shaven headed and busted down to the rank of Guard. Is that understood?"

  "Yes, Ma'am," Awani said, backing away, positioning herself between the newly recruited fringe and her two captives.

  "Very well," Ponytail said, and strode away, her squadron following her like ducklings.

  When Ponytail had passed out of earshot, the donated soldier released a deep sigh. He aimed a conspiratorial smile at Awani, and said, "What an absolute bitch." Then he slowly ran his eyes over Awani, looking at her body the way a pirate looks at a treasure map. Going by his gaze, it seemed the treasure had been buried midway between her breasts.

  Awani crossed her arms over her chest, and glared at the fringed male.

  "I think I'm going to enjoy this," the soldier said, smiling. Then he seized Bei by the shoulders, and pushed him roughly down the corridor. The smile vanished when he looked down at the blue prisoner's wrists and saw they had no restraints pinning them together. "What the-"

  "Indeed," Bei said, twisting and slamming his forehead into the bridge of the soldier's nose. He seized the stunned soldier by the throat, clutched, and lifted the man off his feet. "You know I think I'm going to enjoy this."

  While the soldier struggled, unsuccessfully, to tear Bei's fingers away from his windpipe, Charlie took a look down the corridor. About a hundred metres away, the departing troop had approached a turn in the corridor. Although too far away to hear the soldier's choking and spluttering, if any of them looked back, they would see their former colleague kicking and bucking in the blue prisoner's hands. Charlie tried to obscure the view as best he could and silently willed them around the corner.

  Ponytail took her first step around the bend. And then just as Charlie dared to believe the danger had passed, the struggling soldier, instead of clawing at Bei's hands like a good strangle victim, dropped his hands and reached for the electric tube in his belt. With the veins threatening to explode in his face, he activated the weapon, twisted, and swung its flashing end into Bei's stomach.

  The blue man, one hand still gripped around the soldier's neck, nonchalantly backhanded the weapon out his hand.

  Charlie watched in horror, as the tube spun through the air, landed on the floor and bounced across it. The noise echoed down the corridor like a volley of shots from a machine gun.

  The five figures at the far end of the corridor stopped dead in their tracks. Their heads snapped towards them as if belonging to one lycra-skinned, multi-headed beast.

  "They've seen us," Charlie said.

  "Shit," Bei said. He glowered at the blood filled face in front of him, and then wrenched it one hundred and eighty degrees. Its terrible, veiny features now faced Charlie.

  Awani pushed past Bei, and leapt onto the floor, pulling Charlie down with her. She shuffled forward, her rifle held horizontally before her.

  "You two, lie down behind me," she said, and ran her fingers against the control panel of her rifle. It rattled in her hands and from its sides shot four flat panels. The panels merged and lengthened to form a one metre wide shield, a half a metre in height. Awani huddled behind it and signalled for Charlie to do likewise.

  "Son of a bitch," Bei said raising the dead body over his head.

  At the end of the corridor, the other soldiers had dropped to their knees and were raising their rifles.

  Bei threw the dead soldier down the corridor, and dived next to Awani. The corpse's back to front head stared vacantly at Charlie as it sailed through the air. Before it hit the floor, a wave of energy blasts ploughed into the body, sending it flying back through the air. It landed with a moist thud on the other side of Awani's shield.

  Energy bursts whizzed over Charlie's head and past his side, missing by inches. He slid closer to Awani, pressing his cheek flat against the floor. His head lay level with her backside.

  "What's the plan?" Bei called from the other side of Awani's bottom.

  "They're getting closer," she said, and passed Bei the second rifle. "I can't use my gun. You're going to
have to do the shooting for both of us."

  Bei gripped the rifle and started firing rounds over the top of Awani. "Five guns against one might be pushing it."

  The enemy shots halted for a brief moment, before beginning again with vengeance.

  For the next few minutes, the corridor blazed with greens and blues and reds. The air was filled with the fizz of electricity.

  Charlie squeezed closer to Awani, making himself as small a target as possible. Even with his nose jammed firmly into Awani's side, the electric storm tickled his nostrils. The static in the air turned his skin to a field of goose pimples, and his hair had begun to hover as if manipulated by some poltergeist barber intent on giving him a flat top.

  Enemy fire flashed barely an inch above his head, singeing it, and adding the smell of burnt hair to the mix. Charlie cursed his decision to go for the long-haired surfer look.

  "Put down your weapon," Ponytail called. She sounded close. "Reinforcements are on their way."

  "You're bluffing," Awani shouted, and Bei shot another round of defensive fire over her head.

  Awani twisted, pushing Charlie for a brief, terrible second closer out towards the stream of enemy fire. She ignored his moans and reached down to her feet, flicking a switch at the bottom of her boot. It slid open, revealing a hidden compartment. From inside, she pulled a tennis ball sized metallic sphere. She passed it Charlie. "You've got a better angle back there."

  Charlie slipped his right hand out from under him, took the metal ball and returned his arm to his side. The movement brought a further volley of shots, pulling Charlie's heart into his throat.

  "What do you want me to do?" Charlie said.

  "What do you think? It's a grenade. Press the buttons and throw it."

  Charlie looked at the ball and saw two blue buttons flashing on opposite sides, like poles. "But they'll shoot my arm off."

  "Just do it, Passenger," Awani said.

  "Press it," Bei shouted.

  "Now, Passenger," Awani screamed. "Now."

  Charlie held his breath, squeezed the two buttons and flung the grenade, as if he were bowling a cricket ball. The instant the grenade left his hand, something hot and hard struck him. The impact flung him onto his back.

  He was still on his back when the grenade went off.

  The explosion filled the corridor with blinding white light. The shock wave lifted Charlie a foot off the floor, before slamming him back down again, smashing his head against the solid turquoise.

  Chapter 8

  When Charlie came to, his ears rang and he had triple vision.

  In the haze, he could just about make out Awani from the three blurry pink faces staring down at him. They looked concerned. Their mouths opened and wiggled. But all Charlie could hear was the ringing of a hundred alarm clocks.

  He shook his head, and slowly the three faces became one, and the incessant ringing died away.

  "Are you okay?" Awani asked.

  "I think so," Charlie said, pulling himself up into a seated position. The smell of Friday night kebabs filled his nostrils.

  "What about your arm?"

  Charlie looked at her quizzically. "My what?"

  "Your arm?"

  Charlie looked at his right arm. Where the bicep should have been, there now smouldered a hole large enough to put a hand through. Charlie stared, mesmerised, at the perfect circle in his arm.

  It looked unreal. He tried raising it. But it refused to move. He held it up with his left hand. The hole went all the way through. Charlie peered through it, at the wall on the other side.

  He laughed. It was a short, high pitch, girl's laugh. For some reason, Charlie thought the hole in his arm was the funniest thing he had ever seen. The giggles came so thick and fast he could barely breath. He let go of his hand and the arm fell on his lap, as limp and lifeless as a mannequin’s arm.

  When Bei returned from checking on the Corporation soldiers, Charlie sat on the floor laughing uncontrollably, tears in his eyes.

  "What the hell's so funny?" Bei said. This made Charlie laugh even harder.

  "Look at his arm," Awani said. "He's in shock. He'll be dead in minutes."

  "After saving our lives? I don't think so." He reached inside his mouth, and twisted. When he pulled out his fingers, they held a pristine molar. The top section glittered with gold. Bei dug his nail into it and pulled it off.

  He crouched down beside Charlie, and struck him with his open hand.

  The slap startled Charlie, giving pause to the torrent of laughter flowing up from his belly.

  Bei the tooth up before him and said, "Open wide."

  Charlie looked at the tooth floating before him, the laughter within him threatening to kick off once more. But before it could, Bei gripped his mouth, and prised it open. He tipped the tooth upside down and a shot of black syrup poured out.

  Charlie grimaced as the foul substance landed on his tongue. He wanted to spit it out, but Bei held his mouth tightly shut. All Charlie could do was close his eyes and swallow the bitter slime.

  It started working straight away.

  Charlie's whole being whooshed. The feeling of honey and summer days and soft duvets on a Sunday morning enveloped him. He closed his eyes and smiled. Everything was going to turn out all right. He knew it.

  "Feeling better?" Bei said.

  Charlie opened his eyes and grinned widely. "I feel more than better. I feel . . . fantastic."

  Awani rolled her eyes, and said, "How much Theran water did you have in there?"

  "Enough to last two more interrogations," Bei said, refitting the empty molar. "It should last long enough to get out of here."

  "Come on," she said, looking down at the grinning Charlie, "give me a hand with him."

  They picked Charlie up and leant him against the wall. Dreamily, he glanced around him. Further down the corridor, bits and pieces of soldiers lay strewn all over the place. Charlie smiled at the carved up limbs and torsos and said, "Cool. We got them."

  "You got them," Awani said. "That moves you up one level in my estimations."

  Charlie gave the girl his most charming smile. She was so hot. "Where am I now?"

  "Still a long way from getting what you want."

  Beside them, Bei had taken off his jacket. With a look of bitter disappointment, he tore off a few strips of fabric. "You better be worth it," he said, as he arranged the fabric in a sling and placed it around Charlie's shoulder. Then he turned to Awani, and said, "We'd better get a move on."

  She nodded, placed her rifle on her the ground, and withdrew a second explosive coin from her belt. Then with the poise of a ballerina, she took a few steps back, raised her hands and threw herself forward into a perfect somersault, ending with an upwards leap. Mid-air she stretched and secured the explosive to the ceiling.

  She landed with a soft thud, stretched her arms to the side and bowed low.

  "No need to show off," Bei said.

  "I'd move that wrinkled arse of yours," she said. "Detonation in three, two, one."

  This time the device exploded with a soft, unsatisfying puff.

  For a few seconds nothing happened. Bei shot Awani a raised eyebrow. But then there was a crack and a cylinder two feet wide and a foot thick, crashed to floor between them.

  It landed next to Charlie's bare foot. "It almost hit me," he said, chuckling.

  Awani shook her head, her hair swaying like pendulum. She looked at Bei. "When will the initial effects wear off?"

  "Any minute."

  "Good," she said. "Because I can't put up with much more of this. I liked him better when he was scared shitless."

  "Ready?" Bei asked.

  When she nodded, he crouched down, and bridged his hands.

  Charlie watched on as Awani placed one foot in the cupped hands fingers, and took hold of the blue man's shoulders. He took a breath and then flung her through the hole in the ceiling.

  Charlie stepped towards Bei, raising a foot. The blue man, chuckling, unclasped his ha
nds. "Patience, kid. She needs to scout the area first."

  A minute later a pair of pink hands appeared through hole, followed by a mop of blonde hair. From somewhere inside, came Awani's voice. "It's clear. Rifles please."

  Bei handed her the two rifles and she disappeared back through the hole.

  "Ready?" Bei said, turning to Charlie.

  Charlie smiled. The dreaminess caused by the drug had largely worn off. He stood alert, ready for anything. An electric, fearless positivity flowed through his veins. If a tiger had suddenly appeared carrying a rugby ball, Charlie would have taken him down with a textbook tackle without batting an eyelid.

  He looked at the blue man, waiting with his hands bridged together. "Hell yes," he said, and leapt, grabbing Bei's soldier with his good hand. The instant his feet landed in Bei's palm, the blue man grunted and flung him upwards, sending him flying through the hole.

  Just as he thought he would tumble back into the darkness, two pink arms reached out and caught him around the waist. Awani spun and, holding him hard but gentle, placed him on his feet beside the hole.

  Charlie looked around. They were standing between the landing gear of what Charlie guessed was a huge spacecraft of some kind. Outside, beyond the triangle of wheels and metal legs keeping them hidden from view, lay a docking bay.

  Charlie looked past his feet, peering into the hole, curious as to how Bei planned on getting up without someone giving him a boost. Down in the corridor, the blue man seemed to be performing some kind of sultry Latin dance. He was twisting, rocking his hips and swaying his body from left to right. Charlie watched, mesmerized by the man's movements.

  Bei ended the dance by bringing his head within a foot of the floor and springing upwards. Charlie pulled his head back just in time.

  The blue man landed noiselessly on the opposite side of the hole. "What's the story?" he said, straightening.

  "The ship's empty," Awani said, handing him what looked to Charlie like the electronic beeper his mum used to open her BMW.

  "And the bay?"