Hero at Large_Second Edition

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Hero at Large_Second Edition Page 3

by Timothy Ellis


  There was a slight emphasis on 'anything'. I wasn't sure I really wanted to go there. I stood, and Amanda led me out, we fell into step behind Jason, and started off towards my room.

  'Suite 12' was on the door.

  "Sir," said Jason, "if you would pulse the door with your code, I will show you around."

  I did so, and the door popped open. Jason led us in. Amanda stopped me just inside the door, and proceeded to rapidly search the place. Returning, she again took up a position against the wall just beside the door.

  The room we were in was tastefully decorated as a sitting room, with casual chairs facing a state of the art entertainment system. In another corner there was a desk. The room looked as if it doubled as a waiting room, office, and a small theatre. On the other side of the room was another door.

  Jason led us through to a short passage-way with three doors. The door on the left turned out to be a small kitchen. The door in the middle was a huge bedroom, with its own full-sized bathroom. The door on the right led to a second identical bedroom.

  Jason led us back to the kitchen. He stopped at what looked like a closet door, and opened it to reveal a cooling unit, stocked with food and drinks. I must have looked surprised, as Jason quickly said, "This is all complementary. You may eat here if you like, or in the hotel restaurant. If you require a chef, let the duty manager know, and one will be sent up for you."

  I think I gaped. Amanda looked on impassively, but there was a twinkle in her eye which seemed to indicate some amusement at my expense.

  "Thank you," I stammered. "I really don't know what to say."

  "It is our pleasure sir. If you would follow me to the main bedroom?"

  We went into the middle room. Jason went up to the wardrobe, and pulled open a series of doors. Inside were my clothes from the Wanderer.

  "Your belongings were forwarded to us by the station staff, before your ship was sent over to the Shipyard for repair. We are sorry for your loss. Your Uncle's belongings are also here. No one was quite sure what to do with them, so they've been packed, and stored for you."

  I sighed. An unpleasant chore for me to have to do soon. I'd need to go through what was there, and repack it for return home, whenever I could get them there.

  I mumbled appreciation, and we all headed back out into the sitting room. Jason went to the door, opened it, and stood there for a moment looking at me.

  "Please let the staff know if there is any way we can help you sir. Enjoy your stay."

  With that, he was off, and the door closed behind him.

  I sank into the nearest chair, feeling quite bewildered. I glanced around for Amanda, and once again found her plastered against the wall by the door. I looked at her. She looked at me. Our eyes locked. A slight smile crossed her face and was gone, but there was a twinkle in her eyes now. I gave in.

  "Why are you attached to the wall like a limpet mine?" I asked.

  "It's my job," she replied.

  "Your job is being a limpet mine on my wall?"

  This finally made her laugh.

  "Aleesha and I are your bodyguards. One of us will be near you at all times, and the other will be out of sight, but anyone trying to get to you will have to go through us first."

  "Why do I need bodyguards?"

  "Duh!"

  I thought about it. I'd been out in public for only minutes before being knocked to the ground, and almost shot. If only for the stupidity of the thugs who did it, I might actually be dead. Maybe I should reconsider that last statement. I pondered it for a bit.

  "Ok, you got me there. But do you really need to be plastered against the wall to guard me?"

  "Regs."

  "Regs?"

  "Regulations."

  "I know what regulations are, I just don't know why they…"

  I ran out of steam suddenly. I took to looking at her again. She stared back.

  "Will you please sit down!" I yelled at her.

  She jumped, began smiling fully, relaxed, and took a chair which gave her a view of the door, while she could still face me.

  "That's better. Now give, why do I need bodyguards?"

  "Duh!" she replied again.

  "We've done that already," I said, getting annoyed. "Will you please supply some actual information?"

  "You haven't read your emails, have you?"

  I sighed. I hadn't. Since I wasn't expecting any, it hadn't occurred to me checking was any sort of priority. In fact, I hadn't yet setup the new PC with my email details.

  "Ok, got me there too. I'll do it shortly, but how about you give me the quick overview?"

  She looked at me. I looked back at her. She shifted uncomfortably.

  "The person you really want to talk to is my boss. Sitreps are not my speed."

  I sighed again.

  "Just give me the speeded up version, will ya?"

  "Ok. Scumbag attacks ships. Boy gets attacked, boy fights back, kills scumbag. Boy saves girls and a lot of others. Girls assigned to bodyguard boy."

  As speeded up versions go, that was speedy.

  "So you were on one of the ships?"

  "The Military Transport."

  "So you are military?"

  "Ex-military. We're a mercenary company. The boss is the Colonel, and will want to meet you, but for now we've been assigned to keep your arse in one piece until you're ready to go it alone."

  "Why do I need bodyguards?"

  "Duh!"

  "Just tell me, hey?"

  There was a definite twinkle in her eye, and the hint of a smile.

  "You have no idea who you took out, do you?"

  She looked at me for a time.

  "You took out one of the most wanted scumbags across human space. He has, had, a gang of serious muscle working for him, and they are going to want revenge on the person who took him out. That is you. Like it or not, you are number one on their hit parade. The local sector media has been calling you 'hero', but to them, you're the 'hero at large', and by all accounts they put a huge bounty on your head."

  I looked at her. She looked at me.

  "Oh," I said.

  "The attempt on you today was the third we know about since you landed here. Station security got the other two attempts."

  "Oh," I said.

  She looked at me. I looked down. I took a moment to let it all sink in.

  "So what's the good news?" I eventually asked.

  "Read your emails," she said with a genuine smile. "I'm off to report in, and scout the perimeter. One of us will always be close by you. Our contact details are on one of those emails, so read that first, and make sure you can fire off a help alert if you need to." She rose. "Oh, and the first thing you can do is enable the door for both of us, so we can set up our own codes for entry."

  She hurried over to the door, opened it, gave me a quick smile, and left. The door closed with a thunk, and I was left alone, wondering what on Outback I'd gotten myself into.

  I sighed again, let myself sink into the chair, and just sat there for a bit, trying not to think of anything. My brain raced, so it was not a happening thing.

  Ok, work. I activated the room communications facilities, and threw my PC onto a wall screen. I found it easier to navigate and do things outside my head. I also activated the holographic controls, so the wall screen became fully interactive. Now I could wave my hands around, instead of trying to do things in my head.

  First off, I connected to the hotel net, and downloaded their guest PC facilities. I hunted around a bit before finding the door controls, and found how to set up for multi-person access. I needed to pulse them an authority. No can do without contact details.

  Next I looked for my email files from my old PC, and found them in an archive instead of attached to the PC mail facility. A quick look at the mailer, and the reason why was apparent. My old PC was so far out of date, very little on it was compatible with the new PC. My photos and files were there, and even if the format was out of date, they should still be usable. I'd have t
o try sometime, and maybe setup a conversion routine.

  But first things first. Mail. I set up my email account, and linked it to Outback Orbital, which was where all my accounts were based, given it was my designated home.

  Mail started to download. And download. And continued to download.

  I sat there watching the flow in sheer bewilderment. At 121 of 495, I shook myself, and started paying attention to headers.

  "READ ME FIRST" caught my eye. I opened it, and it was from a Colonel Smith. It was short and to the point, thanking me for saving their lives, and informing me the Peck twins would be handling bodyguard duties for me for as long as they deemed I needed them. There was also a mention of a meeting being delayed by the need to get their ship repaired, and I would hear more at a later time.

  The next email to catch my eye was from General Harriman. He'd copied to me a number of media reports of my 'heroic action', which I played, wondering who this hero they were talking about actually was. He followed with a caution the station had been receiving death threats about me ever since, and station security had approved the Lieutenants Peck as official bodyguards for as long as I thought I needed them, or until Colonel Smith wanted them back. He included some of the death threats.

  There is nothing like a death threat to make your blood run cold, and I wished I hadn't looked at them. He finished up by informing me the sector bounty on 'The Pig' had been paid into my Outback bank account, and he was passing on details to all other sectors, so I could expect some other payments in due course.

  There was a follow-up email down the list. He informed me the Wanderer had been shifted to the Shipyard for repairs, and I could expect an email from the yard foreman about said repairs and costs. As I was listed as an officer in the family company, I'd been assigned as ship captain until I could return it to Outback Orbital. He went on to state the Pig's ship had been adjudicated to me as salvage, and it was also over at the yard being repaired. Ditto to expect an email about repairs and costs from the yard foreman.

  Costs. I had to hope the bounty just paid, would cover both ships.

  The next few emails to catch my attention were from various guilds. Each was inviting me to join the guild, upon which they would backdate my membership to when I left Outback, and be able to pay me bounties for my kill. I sent them each back an acceptance, and said I would be in touch in a day or so to complete the process.

  All this mention of bounties made me realize I had no idea what had already been paid into my account. When I'd left Outback, I'd had almost nothing. Which of course was normal for me, being my first trip in space after having completed my space courses. Being a student does not allow you to accumulate much. And I'd spent most of my funds over the years on my PC, games computers, and simulators.

  I opened up banking, and entered my account details, which were stored in a secure slot in the data from my old PC. I also moved that data into a secure slot within the new PC, so it would be easier to find in future. Banking linked with the local branch of the family bank, and updated my account information.

  I went rigid in sheer shock.

  I needed a drink, so I went into the kitchen, and found a beer. It went down in one long swallow. I got out another, and took it back into the sitting room. This one I sipped for a while as I studied my account information.

  There were four transactions in there, and a total of just less than fifty million credits. The first was from the Australian sector government, the second from the Sci-Fi sector, the third from the American sector, and the last, and by far the biggest, was from the Earth sector government. Each was listed as 'accumulated bounties'.

  I went looking through the email headings again, and yes, there was an email notification of each payment, and an email from each sector government advising of the payments. The details were slightly different for each, but they were all payments from each system in each sector which had been affected by the actions of The Pig, and had issued bounties for his capture or killing. I was finally getting an idea of who it was I'd killed in self-defense, and what all the fuss was about.

  Five

  I was interrupted by a call. The caller ID said simply 'Aleesha', so I answered it. Her face appeared in the caller picture box, and I knew mine was appearing in hers. Wherever she was, there must be a cam nearby picking up her image, or I'd only be getting a face photo. But this was live. I knew she was also seeing a live image of me, since I had all the communication features of the room active.

  "Are you ok?"

  "Yes," I replied, "Why are you asking?"

  "Amanda asked you for door access before she left you two hours ago, and neither of us have heard from you in that time."

  "Sorry about that. I've been reading my emails, and I've had a shock. I've not seen your contact details."

  "They would have been on the email from Colonel Smith."

  "Hmmm, I didn't notice them, but I guess I had other things on my mind. Hang on, while you're on, I'll send you the access."

  I located the door access I'd been looking at before, and sent her the door authorization. At the same time, I added her contact details into my address book.

  "Did you get that?" I asked.

  "Yes thanks. I'll be back shortly. Amanda is walking the perimeter, and the Colonel is sending me off to do some shopping."

  "Can you send me Amanda's contact details? Save me having to look them up, or send a request to the Colonel."

  "Can do. See ya soon."

  The channel closed. A ping came in with Amanda's details, which I also added in to my address book. I pinged Amanda asking her why I needed a bodyguard. 'Duh!' came back with a smiley attached, so I sent her the door authorization. 'Ta' came back.

  I realized I was starving, and the combination of shock, and two beers on an empty stomach, was making me light headed. Sixteen at home was beer age, but consumption was carefully monitored until eighteen. More than one, for me, was a rarity. And without the shock I'd just had, I would normally not have had the second.

  I went into the kitchen looking for food. I found the makings of a ham salad sandwich, and made myself two of them. There was also a selection of desserts, and I chose an apricot crumble. Back in the sitting room, I sat back in my chair. An alert popped up from the hotel system, asking if I wanted a tray to eat off. I answered yes, and watched astounded as a tray table came up from the side of the chair, and positioned itself so I just needed to put the dishes down.

  While I was eating, I kept on reading emails. A lot of them were junk, and I deleted them as I went. Some of them were simply congratulation type messages from people I'd never heard of, redirected from station management.

  Then there was one from Outback Orbital management. It informed me Sydney station had notified them of my 'situation'. Their standing instructions, from the family company, were for the Wanderer to be returned to Outback if possible. Preferably with a full cargo. Even though they realized the cargo could not now be delivered, it was still requested. I was authorized to draw on the family company accounts to complete the order, and Outback Orbital would ensure the order was paid for on delivery.

  Well that gave me something to do, although the way things were, I was not sure it was wise anytime soon. Still, I did have to make some decisions about my future, and flying the Wanderer back to Outback was something which needed doing.

  I was half way through the apricot crumble, and really enjoying it, when I came across an email from the owner of the medium freighter I'd brought back in from the battle site. The text was a simple thank you, and apology that they couldn't afford to pay me for saving them, as the cost of fixing their ship was going to take everything they had. Attached to the email were three individual recorded messages. Mr. and Mrs. Hurndall both spoke their thanks, and it was interesting to put faces on those who'd been in the same situation I found myself in, but had not been able to do anything as I had. The third was from their eight year old daughter, Suzy. As she spoke, I froze in place, spoon still in
my mouth.

  She ended by saying "Would you like a kitten? Our cat Mitzi was saved too, and she had kittens a few weeks ago, and we would love it if you would like one."

  I sat there for a long time, spoon still in my mouth. At last I replied to their email, thanking them for their messages. I then did a recorded message for Suzy. I said I'd be delighted to have a kitten, since I was a long way from home and my family, and I'd love to have the company only a kitten can offer. I asked her to let me know when the kittens would be old enough. I'd arrange with her parents for us to meet up, and we could play with them together.

  It was only after I sent it, I realized I'd replied with my spoon in my hand.

  I finished up my food, and deposited the dishes in the kitchen sink. As I turned away, there was a strange sound, and I turned back to find the dishes had vanished.

  I got myself some juice, thinking alcohol wasn't really a good idea, and went back to my emails. There were several requests for my bank drop account details, so bounties posted by clients could be paid to me. It reminded me I needed to set up a bank drop account.

  It's not a good idea giving out bank account details to strangers, and one of the innovations banks had come up with several hundred years before was the bank drop. Essentially it was a deposit only account linked to a primary account. Anyone could send the bank drop funds, which were immediately transferred to the linked account. The bank drop thus never had anything in it, so could not be hacked. It took me a little while setting up the bank request, and I fired it off. I flagged the bank drop request emails, and the Guild emails, for later attention.

  Near the end of the emails, was a recorded message from a John Norbett. He had a 'business' proposition for me, should I be interested in following up the rest of the pirate network. If so, he would be happy to meet me next time I was in the Brisbane system. I sent back a text only non-committal reply.

 

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