And it stank.
“Where’d you get it from?”
Guy pushed a branch out of the way so they could clamber beneath it. “Just found it lying around.”
A drone buzzed around a nearby tree, then whirred off into the distance before returning to hover above them. It rotated slowly as they moved, the cameras scanning the area.
“That drone’s still following us.”
“Of course it is. It’s my drone.”
“How did you get that? Surely they didn’t let you bring it here with you?”
“I built a backdoor into my skulltop before PubSafe caught me. They didn't find it, and it let me take back control after I landed here. Then I hacked the drone with some gear I salvaged from the pods.”
“So they’re not recording you through the skulltop?”
“Nope. I thought they’d try to do something about the drone, but, so far, they seem content to let me keep it. I guess it amuses them. Course, they wised up and fixed the security hole in the other drones, so I can't hack any more. And now they do a full reflash of the skulltop software before they ship you out, in case anyone else gets the same idea.”
“Couldn’t you reprogram them here?”
“Maybe, if you don’t mind me hacking up your head with a rusty knife. That doesn’t seem like a good idea to me.”
They walked on. The big, grey, furry mass tied to the top of Guy's backpack bounced from side to side in front of Daniel's face. It smelled of rotting meat, and something dark dripped down the backpack. Red drops splashed to the ground.
“What's that thing on your backpack?”
“Ask a lot of questions, don't you kid?”
“I'm new here. What do you expect me to do?”
“Killed an animal, and skinned it. Thought I might make a blanket out of it, to keep me warm at night.”
They were near the edge of the woods now. The trees were further apart, and more of the sky showed between the spiky branches. One of Hades’ moons glowed brightly as it crept across the star-filled sky, illuminating the scrubland beyond the wood. The smell of salt, and sound of breaking waves, put them closer to the sea.
“Don't you want to know why I was sent here?”
“Not particularly. Whatever it was, I’m sure you didn’t do it, it’s all just a big mistake, you didn’t deserve to be Condemned, and they'll be coming to take you back home next week.”
“How did you know?”
“’Because that’s what everyone says. Least, anyone who doesn’t say that isn’t someone I want to be around.”
“I was protesting. For freedom and stuff. They called it anti-State agitation and propaganda”
Guy leaned against a tree and laughed until his face grew red, and he was gasping for breath. “That’s it? You went out on the streets with your friends, throwing shit at PubSafe, and you're surprised they sent you here?”
“They arrested one of our comrades for posting anti-State messages on the underground. I didn’t want to mess with PubSafe, I was in the crowd, chanting and holding a placard, and the others pushed me into them. They started attacking the commissar, and I got arrested.”
And then there was Erica.
She said she was going to the protest, and was so impressed when he said he was, too. He wouldn't have gone, otherwise.
What if they’d Condemned her too?
No, the Comrade Stalin barracks had the pull to get her out of anything. Not like his Witold Pilecki barracks. In Comrade Stalin, they probably even got to watch the Punishment Channel. Even if Erica was on Hades, she’d know just what to do.
“Yeah, that’s what your asshole commissar-wannabes do,” Guy said. “They stand at the back of the crowd shouting, and let the rest of you get caught. Well, congratulations. You’ve got your freedom, red in tooth and claw.”
“This isn’t freedom. This is... something else. This isn’t a real world, with real people, it’s a planet of psychopaths, killing each other over nothing.”
“It is free. No PubSafe here to stop you doing anything you want, so long as you're man enough to take it.”
“You saved me. You seem like the local PubSafe.”
“True. But I did that because I wanted to.”
“Who were those people, anyway?”
“Call themselves the Meat Packers. Just another gang of dumb assholes trying to make some shinies. They do the dirty work for the slavers, catching newbies to sell.”
“How did they know we’d be here?”
Drones circled around them, dodging between the trees. Guy grabbed a broken branch from the ground, and threw it toward one. The drone dodged sideways as the branch passed by, then moved in closer.
“The gulag ship flies past the same day every year. Drops you off as it approaches the planet, and the orbit brings you here. Someone figures out the trajectory, and there’s always a crowd waiting to greet the newbies. You just got unlucky, landed right in the middle of them in broad daylight. Most years, they actually have to hunt.” Guy grabbed a rock and threw it at the drone as it buzzed past them again. “PubSafe will make sure it doesn’t happen next year.”
“I hope so. All those people just caught or killed as soon as they landed...”
“It’s bad for the ratings. It’s the thrill of the chase they want, and they can drag that out for days in a good year. Weeks, sometimes.”
“What do they want people for?”
“Men will do for slaves or meat. Or muscle, if they need more in their gang.”
Daniel shivered. They had slaves here? How could society had devolved so fast? Well, they were criminals, and already half-way to beasts. Imagine Erica dragged off, naked and screaming, like the girl he'd tried to rescue. His stomach churned at the thought.
“What about the girls?”
“Whorehouses or harems will buy them, if the hunters don’t keep them for themselves.”
“What do you mean?”
“Girls are valuable, kid. There aren't any sex bots here, you have to make do with the real thing. Rich men will pay a good pile of shinies for a girl of their own, and the rest will pay to rent a whore for a quick roll in the hay. How many newbies do you think they send every year?”
How many pods had he seen? “A dozen?”
“About ten thousand. How many do you think are female?”
“I didn't see anything like a thousand pods.”
“The pods land wherever gravity takes them. You could have been freezing to death at the poles, or floating out to sea, wondering whether you'll die of thirst before the big fish eat you. Now, how many do you think are women?”
Daniel shook his head. How many women would commit crimes that would get them sentenced there? Not a lot.
“Less than one in ten,” Guy said. “By the time we men get done killing each other, there are about four of us left for every woman. If they're not tough enough to avoid being caught... there are much worse fates than a whorehouse.”
“That's sexist. Women can do anything men can.”
“Maybe back home. Not so much around here, unless they have a fuckton of body mods. There's no PubSafe to protect them, if they aren't tough enough to protect themselves.”
“They should still have equal rights.”
“They do. They get raped, murdered and eaten, all equally like we do. Only a lot more of the first than the last.”
“That’s just male privilege talking.”
Guy shook his head and walked on, in silence.
It still wasn’t fair. Daniel imagined Erica captured, tied up, and forced to do things with men against her will. He shivered again. Imagine her naked in the mud, with that horse hybrid on top of her. His heart thumped as the creature writhed on her soft, naked body. She could be one of the ones screaming out there in the dark. She was good at shouting, but wouldn’t have been able to fight off those hunters. Not on her own.
The thought was triggering him again. But she’s not out there. That’s not her. It couldn’t be. He should
fear for himself.
“They wanted to send me to a whorehouse.”
“Lot of guys ain’t choosy after a while. Pretty face and a nice ass will do them, no matter what it’s attached to...”
“I'm not tied to a cisgendered sexual identity. I'm willing to try new experiences.”
Of course, he'd never had any old experiences with anyone, either. Unless VR fantasies about Erica counted. He'd had more than a few of those.
“You probably wouldn't be too eager to try a couple of dozen guys pounding your ass every day, for a shiny a time.”
Guy's drone passed them, then buzzed into the trees ahead.
“Stop,” Guy whispered, as he stopped suddenly, and raised his hand.
CHAPTER 10
Back home, Andy had lived like a king. Now he just worked for one. Not that being a King’s Guard was so bad, but it was a big demotion from his previous life, just three years before. Back when he worked as a PubSafe commissar, he'd had a big apartment in a nice tower block, and some very nice, very, very accommodating girls. He'd had plenty of opportunities to get rich when he had a gun, a pack of drones, and easy access to the entire World State’s surveillance network.
He'd come to an arrangement with the street gangs, taking a cut for letting them carry out enough crime to make a good living and keep him in a job. Just not enough for anyone who mattered to start asking questions about how they managed to stay in business, or why the surveillance recordings always seemed to be corrupt when someone wanted to solve a crime. The few questioners who didn’t matter would just... disappear.
If he wanted some fun, he had his choice among the gang girls and their sisters. And hookers and strippers would always oblige, if they didn't want to spend a night in the cubes. Or he'd spot some lonely, scared girl on the street, follow her back to her barracks, then knock on the door to tell her there were reports of gangs in the area, so maybe he should check out her room... and why not check the bed? A tall, strong, protective man in uniform could charm her pants off in minutes.
Now, he lived in a barracks, and was lucky if he could get to the King's Guard whorehouse once a month.
“Put your back into it,” Rob said as he crouched in the dirt.
The sharp edge of the cart's chassis was already digging into Andy's fingers as he and Mac tried to lift it high enough for Rob to push the wheel back onto the axle. They'd bounced over one too many rocks on the way down the path toward Kingston, and that one had cracked the wooden wheel. A bit of work with a hammer and some spare wood had knocked it back together, but now they had to get it on the axle, so they could catch up with the others. All in the dark, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by bears, hunters and newbies. Great one.
Mac grunted as he adjusted his hand position, and pushed with his legs. The cart lifted, but not enough. Andy's feet slid on the wet rock as he strained. He dug his heels into the dirt alongside the rock and tried again, his muscles shaking as his back took the strain. The weight rose from the rock, and he panted as he and Mac held the side of the cart high.
The hauler hissed and thumped his feet on the ground as the cart twisted behind him. Those dumb animals had barely been domesticated, and freaked out at anything unexpected. Jacob pulled on the reins, and the hauler squealed and twisted its head against the pressure.
Rob lifted the wheel upright, and rolled it toward the axle, trying to line it up. “Higher.”
Andy strained harder, lifting the cart until his legs were straight, and knees locked. “Hurry up before I die.”
Rob twisted the wheel, and grabbed the spokes. Andy sweated in the cold night air as his arms shook with the weight. He was going to drop it any moment, if the idiot didn’t get the wheel on.
Then Rob slid it onto the axle. Andy relaxed a little, letting the wheel take some of the cart’s weight. Rob reached behind him, and grabbed the big wooden mallet.
The girl with the red and blue hair banged against the bars of her cage in the back of the cart. She pushed her arm between the bars, and grunted as she tried to grab the bolt that locked it.
“Stop that,” Andy said.
She stared down at him and scowled. Pretty face, big tits, and curvy ass. He wouldn't mind a bit of that, and would be taking some if the others weren't around... and if Garry hadn't told them to keep hands off because she was heading for the King's harem. If he was that worried, he should bloody well have hung around to keep an eye on her himself, rather than rushing home with a dozen Guards to protect him.
Bang, bang, bang. Rob hammered the wheel back onto the axle. He checked the fit, and hammered a few more times. Then he nodded, and motioned for them to lower it.
Andy let it down gently. He couldn’t feel his fingers. Would he ever be able to feel them again when he let go? The wheel creaked under the weight, but took it. He relaxed some more. The weight lifted from his hands. He waited until he was sure the cart would stand on its own, then wriggled his fingers, and swung his arms to try to bring some circulation back.
“Thank fuck for that. Let’s get moving.”
Jacob walked past the hauler, to the side of the cart. He grabbed the seat to pull himself up, and put one foot on the step. Then he stared out into the night.
Something was rising slowly above the scrub. Something tall, furry, and covered with mud. Something with big claws, and dark, round eyes. It opened its mouth, and the moonlight glittered on long, sharp teeth. Like a bear. With tits.
“Evening, boys,” Brunhilde said. “How about you give me a lift to town?”
Andy glanced at the revolver on Rob’s belt. Why hadn’t they given him one, too? “Hop in the cage. We’ll take you all the way there.”
“No thanks. It doesn’t look very comfortable.”
He shrugged. “Sorry, nowhere else for passengers to sit.”
Brunhilde sighed. “I did ask nicely. Now I’ll be taking that cart.” She strode toward them. “And I don’t mind if I have to kill you for it. In fact, I’d be quite pleased to oblige.”
The closer she came to the cart, the larger she looked. She must be twice Andy's height, and twice his width. Shit.
Rob crouched by the wheel, staring at her. With ten years in the Guards, was supposed to be in charge. The only one with a pistol, and he wasn’t bloody using it.
Andy slapped his shoulder. “Give me the gun.”
Rob just stared at him. Andy pushed him to the ground, then reached to Rob’s belt, grabbed the revolver, and pulled it free. He swung it toward Brunhilde. She yelled as she saw it, then her feet pumped the ground as she accelerated toward him.
Andy pulled the trigger. The hammer clicked down, and the priming powder fizzed. Brunhilde dodged left just before the main charge fired. The gun boomed as it bucked in his hand. The flash filled the world with light, and left a white glow in his eyes. It faded just in time to see Brunhilde racing for him. Then he fell back against the cart as Rob jumped to his feet, trying to get out of the way of the oncoming beast, and slammed against Andy’s side.
Andy’s feet slid on the mud, and his hand flailed, trying to grab the side of the cart. He raised the other hand to point the gun for a second shot, and pulled back the hammer with his thumb. Brunhilde was less than two metres away. He could hardly miss.
He pulled the trigger. As the hammer fell, a wisp of smoke rose from the burning powder, then his body jerked back as something tightened around his neck. His hand swung, and the gun boomed again. Rob screamed as the bullet slammed into his shoulder, and he went flying across the track.
Andy gasped for breath. He reached for his neck, and looked up. The caged girl stared down at him with a wide grin, her arms out of the bars, and her hands wrapped around his neck, trying to crush his windpipe. He grabbed one hand, forced his fingers past hers, and tried to pull it free. His vision was turning red, and his strength fading. He raised his other hand, pushed the gun past his head, and squeezed the trigger.
Rob moaned on the ground. The hauler’s feet tapped on the rock as Jose
ph grabbed the reins. Brunhilde’s furry body flashed past Andy as she jumped toward the cart. Mac stepped in the way, and bones crunched as her shoulder slammed into his chest, knocking him back against the side of the cart. It shook with the impact, and the hauler reared up against the yoke. Mac groaned briefly, before Brunhilde tossed him aside. He twisted on the ground, his right arm bent at an unnatural angle, with a long, white, needle of bone bursting from his elbow. His other hand grabbed her ankle, and tried to pull it out from under her.
The boom of the revolver left Andy’s ear buzzing, but the pressure on his neck relaxed as the girl pulled one of her hands away. Had he hit her? Oh, crap, he’d be in the shit for that. He turned his head, just in time to see her hand grab the cylinder of the revolver. He tried to twist it away, but her other hand punched him in the face. He turned back toward her, then the cart lurched forward. He twisted in her grip, and the next punch smacked into his ear instead of his nose.
Brunhilde glanced toward him as she kicked Mac in the face, and his skull crunched. The girl grabbed Andy's nose, then twisted hard until he squealed with pain, and relaxed his grip on the gun. She pulled it away from his hand, and he tried to grab it before she could turn it toward him. Instead, he found himself staring down the dark muzzle, just as many people had stared down the muzzle of his gun back home. She cocked it and pulled the trigger, and he dodged aside. The gun boomed, and the bullet smacked into the dirt.
“Move, you bastard,” Joseph yelled as he flicked the reins. He grabbed the whip from beside the seat, and cracked it on the hauler's back. It grunted, and pulled away just as Andy grabbed for the girl's arm. He slipped, and fell to his knees as the cart moved on. Brunhilde grabbed the side of the cart, and pulled herself up. Andy grabbed the tail board at the rear, and tried to stand, but something caught his ankle.
“Get the fuck away,” Joseph yelled as Brunhilde grabbed him, and the whip cracked as he flicked it at her. The hauler lunged forward against its yoke, and the cart accelerated. Andy’s ankle jerked out from beneath him, and he tumbled to the ground.
Condemned (Death Planet Book 1) Page 5
