Cobalt Slave

by Walker, Jon

  Mark’s pulse starts to race. He takes a deep breath to steady his hands as he points the business end of the spear in this predator's direction. It is tough to tell through the foliage, but the creature looks smaller than Mark so he thinks there is a good chance he can scare it off. Suddenly, movement in his periphery causes Mark to snap his head to the right. “Oh shit,” he calls out softly when he sees a matching pair of black eyes a few meters closer. Quickly rescanning the area he spots two more watching him from different directions. It is a pack of hunters that have encircled him. His fear turns into a full blown panic.

  There is a large rocky outcropping roughly twenty meters to his left which seems his only hope. Mark hopes he can take shelter in one of the large crevices or at least put his back to the rock so he only needs to fight these things from one angle.

  Mark slowly backs toward the rocky outcrop as he methodically swings his spear between the different targets he can see. For the first five meters the plan is working when a loud roar to his flank signals the whole pack to spring into action. Mark sprints for the rock as fast as he can, hearing the muffled pounding of feet closing in around him. Just a few strides from the outcrop Mark has the terrifying realization that there is no opening big enough for him to dive into safely. He is going to need to fight, so he heads for the largest rock. Once he touches firm stone he turns around and positions his spear against the ground, ready to impale anything that tries to get him. This gives Mark his first good look at the creatures that are quickly closing in on him. The four hunters appear to be the demonic spawn of a kangaroo and a velociraptor, with big pointy ears and long claws.

  As Mark braces himself, all his pursuers seem to stop on a dime just outside the reach of his spear. Dancing just out of his reach they begin to bellow loudly. Mark is shocked that his stance seems to scare them when suddenly he hears the sound "Tiskkkkk Tiskkkkk CAA CAA CAA" coming from directly behind and over him. Mark looks up and sees the largest redtoe crawler he has ever seen standing on the rock behind him, angrily waving his brightly colored front legs at the invaders of his small kingdom.

  Mark breaks out laughing in relief. It is the first time he has truly laughed in weeks. It isn’t him they are afraid of. It is this ugly bastard.

  CHAPTER 22

  The secretary for the bureau of sanitation is doing what she does just about every day -- playing a game on an old phone built permanently into her desk, waiting for something to happen -- when a blue alert comes in. She reads the short message five times to make sure she has it perfectly memorized before heading directly to Mr. Snider’s office.

  When she opens the door she sees John Snider and Jarod Wu standing over his basic wooden desk discussing a blueprint for the latest pumping upgrade in the Northern quadrant of the city. The expression on her face makes it immediately clear something is seriously wrong.

  John immediately asks, “What is it, Ms. Martinez?”

  Susan Martinez answers, her voice steady but full of concern, “You received a message directly from the director.”

  John answers methodically, “From Director Lee’s office? What exactly did it say?”

  Susan answers slowly and carefully checking her handwritten note, “It was a blue alert. It said, quote, 'Mr. Snider, as head of the bureau of sanitation, is to attend a meeting with Director Terence Lee on Thursday at 11 a.m. in the Public Health Department’s administrative offices. His presence is mandatory. If he is unable to attend, please provide a specific reason.'”

  John says, “That's all?”

  Susan makes a show of rechecking her note, “That is the whole message.”

  Using only his finger, John indicates they are all to go outside where they will discuss this further. John never talks about anything important in an official office or around a computer that would be easy to bug or monitor.

  Silently, the three head outside the building and start walking around the compound in a way that would make it impossible for any one person to eavesdrop on their conversation.

  John speaks first to indicate when it is safe to speak more freely, “So what does it mean?”

  Jarod and Susan both shrug, but Jarod speaks first, “Well, they can’t know everything, otherwise they would send a whole Public Safety assault team instead of a meeting request. It is possible it is unrelated.”

  John responds skeptically, “An unrelated personal meeting with the director out of the blue seems unlikely. It could be they have only vague suspicions of what is going on, and this is a trap or a test of our response.”

  Jarod answers, “We are still at a point where we can shut everything down. We would just need to set the tunnels to collapse. Get rid of a few other loose ends. There is nothing to find if it no longer exists.”

  John quietly considers this move for a moment but decides it is too rash for the time being, so he shakes his head no. “Not yet.”

  Susan then offers a counter theory. “Maybe they want your help to take down Councilmember Madison? We have considered and planned for that eventuality. It could even be a favorable outcome if you play it right.”

  It is a possibility but seems like a very remote one to John. After thinking about why the director might want to see him, he starts to think about what he could do even if the director knows some of his secrets. He asks his closest confidants, “Besides preemptively confessing and throwing myself at the mercy of the Public Health Department, what options do I really have? That is what we should be discussing, potential plans of actions, not theories.” His tone makes it clear the aforementioned option will never happen.

  After a somber, quiet pause, Jarod breaks the silence with the answer John was expecting but hoping to avoid. “It is simple. Your only real options are attend smiling or run. We can get you and your family away with a decent amount of the vitamin surplus. Enough for years.”

  Running has always held a romantic appeal to John, which is why he has stored away years of supplies. Even a few more days with his wife and children would be precious, but ultimately it is impractical. If the Directorate ever dedicates all its resources to truly look for someone, they would find their prey. Prime is not a big island, and there are extremely few ways off it. Even if beyond all expectations they did escape or hide, their cobalt would run out eventually. At best it would just be a stay of execution. That has always been the Public Health Department’s strength. They don’t even need to find their enemies to kill them, they can just wait them out.

  John talks a deep breath and reluctantly says, “Inform the director’s office I’m grateful for a chance to be of service and will be in attendance, Ms. Martinez.”

  ------

  Thursday morning John Snider and Jarod Wu leave his house early to walk to the palace to make sure John will be there at least 15 minutes early. Only two blocks from the house, John pauses briefly before an old beggar too advanced in years to have much hope getting unofficial work for black market cobalt. From his pocket John offers the beggar what outwardly looks like just a half eaten muffin, but John and the beggar both know it hides a small amount of B-12. It's enough to buy this old man a little more life. The beggar responds simply with, “God bless you, Mr. Snider.” John gives him a quick, disappointed nod in return. It provides John only a small bit of relief. “God bless” is the code phrase to indicate this old man hasn’t seen or heard anything interesting in the past day. A “Thank you” would indicate the beggar has seen something minor John might want to get more information about later, while “You are too kind” would signal an emergency. Snider didn’t expect anything that would help him today from his small network of eyes on the street, but it was worth checking -- sometimes they surprise him.

  During the rest of the long walk, they only talk about 21st century popular music. The innocuous debate is a useful distraction that makes John both feel and look calm. A block from the main entrance to the administrative section of the compound, John subtly checks for the dozenth time that he has his special container of mints with
its hidden button and his poison pen. After John verifies he has everything, he gives Jarod a simple nod. Jarod smiles back and walks across the street to take a seat at a nearby cafe to be ready for any signal from his boss.

  With still no idea what the meeting is about, John sets off to wing it -- something he has strived his whole life to avoid by always being prepared.

  The Public Health Department complex dominates the skyline as John approaches, thanks to both its position on a small hill and the towering height of the main glass tower. Over the century the complex has been an ever expanding entity, growing upward and outward with new additions ranging from research labs to private pools. A century of ever more opulent expansions and additions created an imposing statement of function, wealth and power. John imagines this is what it would look like if you took a 22nd century hospital, office skyscraper, government building and massive private mansion, glued them all together, and had them decorated by Louis XIV. John knew that the current and previous directors had gone about changing almost every design element to infuse them with special symbolism, most of it lost on John. The net result is a uniquely beautiful but chaotic and messy sight.

  Taking a final deep breath, John walks into the public entrance of the administrative section of the complex. The entrance is flanked by two slightly overweight Public Safety guards. At the center of the lobby is a beautiful young woman sitting at a desk. The room is simple, sleek, and immaculately clean but surprisingly small. It doesn’t seem to fit at all with the rest of the complex’s ornate exterior because this room is part of the original prefab structure brought from the Solar System. It is too sacred for even the directors to dare redesign.

  John Snider tells the young woman he is here for his appointment. She politely confirms his details and tells him to wait for the appropriate personnel. Roughly ten minutes later, a member of the director’s staff comes to escort John. Quietly the pair move through the labyrinthine lower layers of the complex. John is surprised and deeply concerned when his escort doesn’t just take him up the elevator to the director’s main office, but he says nothing. Eventually, John is lead in through the servants' section of the residency and up bland servant stairs to outside the director's private study. His escort firmly tells him to stand right here and wait.

  For the next 40 minutes, John stands in his assigned spot, not moving. He carefully studies the three paintings and two sculptures closest to him to try to distract himself from the growing discomfort in his legs. Each masterpiece is in a different style from the best artists New Eden has so far produced. There is one particular expressionistic landscape that really captures John’s imagination with its incredible use of light. After almost an hour of waiting, another attendant tells John that the director will see him.

  The entire private office is colored in light blue. The walls are dominated by massive portraits of everyone to previously hold the position of director and a huge map of the world. John is surprised to see the director is not at his desk but sitting in a solitary reading chair by the massive window. He is dressed in a silky blue shirt and drinking a small cup of something warm.

  The director stays sitting and turns his head only slightly in acknowledgement of his guest's arrival. He says nonchalantly, “Mr. Snider. Please come in.”

  As John walks to stand in front of the director, he answers, “It is always a pleasure to serve you, Director Lee.” He finishes with a small bow once he is clearly in the director's line of sight.

  The director looks disdainfully at the presence of his ugly brown uniform and simple workboots in his private study and takes a sip of his beverage. He says, “Do you know why you are here?”

  John answers with his most honest and earnest voice, “I’m sorry, Director, but I wasn’t told. My apologies.”

  The director answers calmingly, “Obviously, we are here to talk about what you have been doing with Councilmember Madison.”

  Adrenaline surges through John's body and his heart starts beating rapidly. It is only a lifetime of practice that prevents John from totally panicking, but he still feels minor cracks in his skillfully crafted facade. All his muscles tense in preparation for action. Unconsciously, he shifts his feet and his eyes dart to determine the placement of the one servant in the corner of the room waiting to attend to the director’s every need. The servant is far enough away that it is unlikely she could stop John from stabbing the director or himself with his pen.

  For what feels like an eternity to John, the director pauses for another slow sip from his cup. The director then looks up at John with an unpleasant expression, “The garden you are building him displeases me.”

  Real shock displays across John's face as he struggles to answer, “His new water garden...sir?” For once the confused naive tone he uses is actually genuine.

  The director's face grows slightly red and he answers as if talking to an idiot, “Yes, the water garden.” He pauses for a moment to calm himself and put down his cup. With a dismissive flick of his wrist he says, “I don’t blame you. You are just a simple craftsman that did what you were asked. The point is I can’t allow Councilmember Madison to have a nice garden.”

  John answers in a daze, “I’m sorry, sir. I'm not sure what you want me to do.”

  The director rolls his eyes as he stands up and spreads his arms before the window. He says condescendingly, “Obviously, you are going to build me a water garden here that is twice as large and twice as grand.”

  Overwhelmed with relief, John looks out the window and answers without thinking, “I don’t know if I can!”

  The director's face instantly turns from polite to malicious as he takes a step towards John. He says in threatening tone, “Do not mistake my generosity for weakness or stupidity, John. We are aware your bureau doesn’t report all the vitamin B-12 you recover, and we allow it to happen because you do a good job of getting rid of the trash and the sewage. But no one is irreplaceable or above the judgment of the Director. Do you understand?”

  John tries to sound as apologetic as possible. “I’m sorry, sir. It is not a lack of will… It is a matter of…” John mimes a box with his hands as he looks for the word, “area. I physically couldn’t put a garden twice as big in this space.”

  The director stares at John for a moment, then he starts laughing. When he speaks again his tone is free of all concen, “Oh my… This will be a project for the Public Health Department -- there are no limits. If you need to knock down some of the nearby houses to expand the grounds, then just let my people know, and they are gone. If you need a dozen bums to dig ditches or move rocks, just alert my people, and your department will be provided with enough extra vitamin rations for the duration of the project. Resources should not be a concern. The only concern is making sure it is the greatest garden in the world. Do you understand?”

  For the next fifteen minutes, John uncomfortably listens to the director's unique thoughts on landscaping and tries to delicately steer him away from ideas that would be almost physically impossible to deliver on. Finally, John promises to send him some basic proposals next week.

  Over the next few months John becomes extremely busy with his extra work load. Fountains and water gardens quickly become the latest trend among the big families.

  ------

  On the main continent

  Tiskkkkk Tiskkkkk CAA CAA CAA Tiskkkkk Tiskkkkk CAA CAA CAA

  The loud warning sounds come from under the rock outcrop where Mark Corvus' arm is fishing around, elbow-deep. Carefully, Mark feels for his cornered prey, hoping to grab it by its tail. Even with his small light it is difficult to get a good look in the narrow space to know what he should be doing.

  Mark speaks to the creature, as much to try to calm it as to calm himself, “Just relax and come on out, little guy. No need for all that hissing. I’m not going to eat you yet. All I want...Damn it!”

  Mark lets out a stream of curses as sharp, needle-like fangs pierce through his glove and dig into the meaty part of his hand betw
een his thumb and pointer finger. In spite of the pain Mark doesn’t flinch or pull his hand out. After weeks of painful practice Mark has learned to use these strikes to his advantage. So as soon as he feels the fangs, he grabs the scaly creature by the back and pulls him out, declaring vindictively, “Got you, bastard.”

  Once Mark pulls the squirming monster out into the sunlight with his left hand, he secures the animal's bright red and yellow stubby legs with his right hand. Using a piece of fishing line that he previously tied a slip knot into, Mark expertly binds up the creature so it can’t run away. Even completely incapacitated, the animal won’t stop snapping, hissing, and displaying its colors. This ugly, loud, angry monster is the only thing that allows Mark to sleep at night.

  Mark studies it carefully for a second until he verifies that this bastard is actually a she -- a particularly angry girl by the standards of her species. Looking down at his bleeding hand and back to the still snarling catch Mark says, “You seem like a... Chompy. You like that name?” Almost on cue the monster with great effort manages to slowly inch herself slightly closer to Mark, snapping her jaw shut each time she gains a little bit more ground. Mark answers, “Yeah, you are a Chompy. Try to behave with your brothers and sisters.”

  Carefully, he wraps up this larger and more colorful version of the redtoe crawler, which he is used to back at home. He needs to make sure Chompy can still breathe but won’t be able to fight her brothers and sisters when she is loaded into the pack. Now that Mark has enough, he goes about finding a campsite. On this dry open plain, that usually means any small cluster of trees that doesn’t already have several large predators napping under it.