by Jake Bible
Roak tried to get his feet back under him, but nothing from the shoulders down would obey. He was only upright on his knees because he was still gripping the long metal pole and one end had embedded itself into the greasy dirt of the yard.
“Got my stickers, got my stickers, got my stickers,” Ms. Lika singsonged from various points behind Roak.
One second she was behind him and to the right, the next second she was behind him to the left. He caught a glimpse of her in front of him then blinked as she was in his peripheral vision on his right. A bright pink blur that moved about him with ease, taunting the entire time.
“Stickers go stick,” she said and Roak cried out as a needle pierced his right eye.
“Stop that,” Roak grunted. He wanted to blink, every instinct said to blink, but he knew that would be bad news if he did. “Not a fan of the stickers, lady.”
“Stickers lady!” Ms. Lika cried from on top of one of the smaller piles of parts that surrounded the office clearing.
Roak saw a flash then realized what was about to happen. It took every ounce of his willpower to shift his balance enough that he toppled to the side just before the curved blade struck the air where he’d been. He heard the thunk behind him, but he couldn’t turn to look. He was paralyzed, lying on his left side, a needle in his right eye.
Then the rod, which had stayed stuck in the dirt, fell over and struck him in the temple. The world spun and Roak was dangerously close to throwing up. Dangerous because he wasn’t sure his head was tilted enough for him not to choke on his own vomit if he did puke.
“Roak? I see what’s happening,” Hessa said. “I’m trying to get a target lock on that woman, but she moves too quickly.”
“Try…harder,” Roak managed to say.
“Oh, alright. Didn’t think of that,” Hessa snapped.
More pain. The top of his head felt like he had fire crawling around inside his skull.
“Stickers!” Ms. Lika shrieked in Roak’s ear.
“Yay…” Roak grunted.
Then the pain disappeared and Roak could feel the rest of his body. Ms. Lika shrieked.
Roak barely noticed the yellow blur that had joined the pink blur. He would have missed the image if the needle in his eye hadn’t been plucked out by a yellow nub.
Ms. Lika shrieked again.
“Better get up, man!” Yellow Eyes yelled from somewhere. “She’s pissed I took her stickers!”
“Yeah…right,” Roak muttered as he struggled to get his hands underneath him.
Pain exploded in the center of his back despite his light armor. Roak cried out and rolled over to see Ms. Lika standing over him.
“Yellow man makes me angry,” Ms. Lika said and was gone again.
Then Yellow Eyes was standing over Roak. “Get up!”
Then there was only the brown of the smog-choked sky.
“Hessa?” Roak called. “Moltrans now, please.”
“I can’t,” Hessa said. “The moltrans unit is not behaving properly.”
“Then threaten to ground it and get it to behave again,” Roak snarled.
“The calibration is off, Roak,” Hessa argued. “If I try to grab you from your current location, I cannot guarantee you will arrive on the ship. You could end up being sent to the next closest moltrans unit on this planet or in this system. Or you could end up in the center of the system’s star.”
“Then land the ship and pick me up,” Roak snapped.
“There is not enough room in the clearing for the ship to land and you are in no physical shape to make it up the cargo hold ramp on your own,” Hessa said.
“Land on the office,” Roak said. “Crush that rotten box to splinters. I’ll crawl my ass over there.”
Feeling rushed into Roak’s feet and it was like a million suns burning bright all at once. But he felt his feet which meant he could figure out how to stand up. If his legs would allow him to.
A shriek then a yell. Both filled with pain.
Roak got himself up onto his elbows and rested, panting heavily as yellow and pink blurs spun about each other in the middle of the clearing. It was like watching a murderous dance routine. That thought made Roak smirk. He shoved himself into an upright position, his waist bent and his legs sticking straight out on the ground in front of him.
“Almost got it,” Roak said to himself.
He’d once crawled for several kilometers with a meter-long sword embedded in his hip bone. He’d also had both legs shattered and still managed to descend a seventy-meter cliff without falling to his death. Standing up after being paralyzed by wicked sharp needles from a pink madwoman was a piece of cake.
Which is what he kept telling himself as he groaned and strained with the effort to bend his left knee. It wasn’t having any of that and Roak’s left leg remained straight. Roak tried for the right leg and managed a forty-five-degree angle before his right leg protested and gave up on him.
Pain in his left ear. Pain in his right ear. Then the world went silent.
“Dammit!” he shouted, but could only hear the voice internally, a muffled cry that bounced around inside his skull. “Hessa!”
“I hear you, Roak,” Hessa said.
Roak was glad his comm implant worked at least.
Ignoring the sudden deafness, Roak tried again and was able to order his right leg into a ninety-degree angle. Progress. Roak twisted the leg under his left one and used it to lever that leg into a bent position. The movement seemed to trick his left leg into believing it could function properly and when Roak tried to get his left leg to move, it complied.
Engine wash blew dirt everywhere as Hessa finally arrived.
“You should see them, Roak,” Hessa said in a hushed, respectful tone. “The speed and agility.”
“How’s Yellow Eyes doing?” Roak asked, grimacing as he got his legs under his body and tried to get onto his knees. He wobbled for a second then steadied. “There we go.”
“I can’t tell who is winning,” Hessa said. “They move too fast. Even when I slow the vid down, I can only see them for quick instants before they are gone to a new location.”
“New location?” Roak asked.
In answer to his question, one of the gigantic piles of junk about half a kilometer off began to topple over. He watched in horror as that mountain hit the next closest mountain and then that one hit the next closest and so on until the toppling was no longer happening half a kilometer off, but right by Roak.
That was the motivation he needed.
Roak pulled the needles from his ears, screamed, then got onto his feet, stumbled over to the Flott, bent over, nearly puked, grabbed the pistol, straightened up, did puke all down the front of his light armor, holstered the Flott, and turned to try to run to the ship that was currently demolishing the rotten office.
Roak managed a stumbling jog, not a run, but it was better than standing still. He took the win and kept going.
“Yellow Eyes!” Roak yelled when he was almost to the open cargo hold of the ship. “Time to go!”
A pink blur whizzed past him and Ms. Lika was standing on the cargo hold ramp, two of Yellow Eyes’ arms, or maybe legs, held in her left hand. She shook them at Roak who had paused just at the edge of the ramp.
“I take these for lunch,” Ms. Lika said.
“Thought you were vegetarian,” Roak said, his hand going to the Flott.
“I am,” Ms. Lika said and tossed the yellow limbs aside. “I would never eat those. They are disgusting.”
“Whatever you say, crazy lady,” Roak said and pulled his Flott.
Before he could fire, the cargo ramp slammed shut. Roak heard the hydraulics protest then snap from the force. Even with the hydraulics on the Borgon designed for fast opening and closing, they were not meant to operate at that speed.
“What the Hells, Hessa?” Roak exclaimed then stopped before he said anything else.
A pink ooze dripped from the top edge of the cargo hold ramp. Roak watched in fascination as it
dribbled down the hull of the ship then dripped into the mangled debris of what was left of the impound man’s office.
“Hessa?” Roak called.
“The ramp is no longer functional,” Hessa said as the ship lifted off a couple of meters, swiveled to show Roak the open side hatch, then landed once again in the office wreckage. “Get in.”
Roak limp-stumbled his way to the ladder that was quickly descending from the hatch. It took him longer than he would have liked, but he made it up the ladder and collapsed through that hatch into the side airlock. A few deep breaths and Roak summoned the strength to get back up and limp into the corridor beyond.
“Can you see him?” Roak asked.
“No,” Hessa said. “Wait… Yes.”
A yellow blur appeared next to Roak then solidified into Yellow Eyes.
“Bitch took my arms, man,” Yellow Eyes said and fell against Roak, knocking them both to the floor.
“We’re leaving,” Hessa said as the side hatch closed and the airlock sealed.
Roak felt the pressure of a fast liftoff. He wanted to vomit again, but knew he didn’t have enough in his stomach to do more than spit up some bile. Not worth the effort, so he took a few deep breaths then shoved Yellow Eyes off of him.
“You alive?” Roak asked as he grabbed onto the wall and pulled himself back to his feet. “Yellow Eyes?”
“Alive,” Yellow Eyes said from a pile on the floor. One nub raised and twirled in the air. “Kind of.”
Roak saw what were probably close to a thousand needles sticking out from Yellow Eyes’ body. They bobbed and wiggled as the being shifted positions and tried to stand.
“Nope,” Yellow Eyes said and relaxed back onto the floor. “Gonna stay right here, man. Have the cleaning bots vacuum around me.”
“Hessa, our friend needs some assistance,” Roak said as he started walking. “Send bots to pull those needles out of him before they do permanent damage. Then send a couple to find his arms if they’re still in the cargo hold. I’ll be in the med bay trying not to die.”
“You are far from dying, Roak,” Hessa said, her voice coming through the loudspeaker in the corridor. “Your vitals are improving with each breath. I will enjoy studying the needles I retrieve from Yellow Eyes. Whatever toxin they administer must be quite the fascinating compound.”
“I’m sure it is,” Roak said as he made it to the end of the corridor and activated the lift. He turned and rested his back against the wall as the doors slid open. “Thanks.”
“Was that directed at me or yellow Eyes?” Hess asked.
“Yes,” Roak said and shifted his weight so he fell into the lift instead of walking into it. It seemed like the efficient way to move.
“Thanks, man,” Yellow Eyes said, another nub sticking out and giving him a thumbs up. “Appreciate the appreciation!”
Then the doors slid closed and Roak fought to stay conscious as he rode the lift up to the med bay. There was a lot of crawling once he reached the correct level, but Roak was able to get himself out of the lift, into the med bay, and up into a med pod without any bot assistance. Another one in the win column for the day.
Roak sighed with relief when the med pod lid closed over him and a medically induced sleep took the world away.
26.
Both Roak and Yellow Eyes were ravenous.
They devoured every bowl of protein mush that was set in front of them as they sat at one of the mess tables. Neither said a word as they grunted their way through bowl after bowl after bowl.
Finally sated, Roak shoved his eighteenth empty bowl away and leaned back in his seat. Yellow Eyes didn’t slow at all and continued to eat.
“I’m guessing the toxin in those needles does something to our metabolisms,” Roak said.
“Oh, and so much more, Roak,” Hessa replied, her voice excited. “The compound is—”
“Don’t care right now, Hessa,” Roak said. “What I do care about is that we’re heading to Stefbon.”
“Spent a lot of time analyzing the compound,” Hessa muttered.
“Stefbon?” Roak insisted.
“Yes, Roak, we are currently heading to Stefbon,” Hessa said. “Which is a trap.”
“Last place was a trap too,” Yellow Eyes said.
“No, that was bad luck,” Roak said. “Ms. Lika caught up to us there is all.”
“Oh, is that all?” Yellow Eyes laughed around a mouthful of mush. “Silly me.”
“Stop whining,” Roak said. “You’re still alive.”
“That’s your go-to answer to everything, man,” Yellow Eyes said. “Get a new line.”
“Still alive is how I know I’m winning,” Roak said. “Don’t knock it.”
Roak nodded his chin at the spots where Yellow Eyes used to have arms.
“That hurt?” Roak asked.
“Not much,” Yellow Eyes said with one of his weird shrugs. Then he grunted. “Alright, yeah, it hurts.”
“Sorry your arms got squashed with Ms. Lika,” Roak said. “You gonna be able to grow those back?”
“No idea, man,” Yellow Eyes said. “I’ve never lost two arms at once before.”
“Well, you got extras if they don’t grow back,” Roak said and stood up.
“Kiss my yellow ass,” Yellow Eyes said then grabbed the next full bowl of mush and tucked in.
Roak stretched and twisted, assessing his physical condition. He didn’t feel completely whole, even with the time in the med pod, but he felt better than he had in a long while.
“Hessa? How are the repairs on the cargo ramp coming along?” Roak asked.
“We’re in trans-space, Roak,” Hessa replied. “I can’t repair the ramp while in trans-space. It would require opening the ramp which is not—”
“Yeah, I get it,” Roak said. “Are the bots cleaning up the Ms. Lika gunk at least?”
“They have cleaned up as much as possible,” Hessa said. “But until her remains are completely off this ship, I have sealed off the cargo hold area and activated a quarantine protocol. When all traces of her remains have been purged from the cargo hold then the quarantine will be lifted and the cargo hold can be used again.”
“My power armor is in the cargo hold, Hessa,” Roak said. “Send a bot to fetch it, will ya?”
“Your sense of privilege is astounding at times, Roak,” Hessa replied.
“No shit,” Yellow Eyes said.
“A quarantine protocol means nothing can enter or exit the area, Roak,” Hessa said. “Your power armor will remain in the cargo hold until the quarantine is lifted.”
Roak began to argue then closed his mouth. He nodded and walked out of the mess.
“Bye!” Yellow Eyes called after him.
“ETA to Stefbon?” Roak asked as he made his way to the bridge.
“Sixteen hours,” Hessa stated. “That is the fastest I am willing to go while there is the possibility the ship has been compromised by Ms. Lika’s remains.”
“Compromised?” Roak asked.
“There are bits of her in the ramp seal, Roak,” Hessa said as if he was small, mentally stunted child. “How else would you classify that issue?”
“Fine. Sixteen hours,” Roak said.
Roak reached the bridge and took his seat. He stared out the view shield and watched trans-space fly by the ship, its swirling chaos slightly dizzying, but also stimulating. His mind raced as he calculated what he would do when they reached Stefbon.
Then it hit him and he smiled.
“Don’t do that,” Hessa said.
“What? Smile?”
“Yes. Don’t smile like that. Nothing good happens when you smile like that.”
“How’s our comm strength?” Roak asked.
“Nominal,” Hessa replied reluctantly.
“I’m going to make a call,” Roak said. “Full encryption and location-masking protocols in place.”
“So this is a bad idea then?” Hessa replied, but the comm came up as Roak had requested.
; He entered a comm signature and waited until the other end answered.
“Was that you in the puddle jumper?” Roak asked.
“You are one of a kind,” the woman replied. “After all of the damage you have been doing across the galaxy, you have the guts to comm me. I am tracing this comm call, Roak.”
“How’s that working out for you, Reck?” Roak asked. “How about I help you out on that. You anywhere close to Stefbon?”
“Not even in the same quadrant,” Reck replied. “That where you are headed, Roak? Stefbon? You find your friend?”
“I think so,” Roak said. “Care to meet me there?”
“Yes, of course, I will stop what I am doing right now and join you,” Reck said and laughed. “No, Roak, I believe I will decline to fall into your trap willingly.”
“What about unwillingly?” Roak said.
“Roak…” Reck replied. “Roak, give yourself up and be accepted back into the fold. No questions asked. All is forgiven.”
“You say that like I can’t tell when you’re lying,” Roak replied.
“You must be willing to return if you are calling me,” Reck said. “Why else would you comm?”
“I think he’s alive,” Roak said.
Reck did not reply. Roak could tell the comm was still connected, but the silence on the other end was deep and ominous. Roak waited it out.
“You killed him,” Reck said. “It was confirmed by all. If he’s still alive…”
“Then there is no reason for me to return to the fold since technically I should never have been expelled,” Roak said.
“You were not expelled and you know that.”
“True. I bailed on my own. I left. Pissed all of you off. Enraged everyone. But no one came for me until you did.”
“You commed me first,” Reck said.
“True,” Roak said.
“His being alive changes nothing.”
“Changes everything.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Never beg.”
“Fuck off, Roak.”
“You first.”
“Are you two related?” Hessa interrupted.
