In Perpetuity

by Jake Bible

  “BULLSHIT!” Metzger yelled as he slammed his hands down on the back of the chair. “Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit!”

  North waited for Metzger to calm down, not wanting to open his mouth and accidentally provoke the man further. It took Metzger a second to get his breathing slowed. He glanced down at his hands and frowned.

  “Bruised them up hitting the chair,” Metzger said, sounding like it was meant more as internal dialogue and not for North’s ears. “Gonna make it hard to hold my scorcher when the time comes.”

  North stayed quiet.

  “Oh, not so smug now, are you Bartram?” Metzger sneered. “Is the major scared of a little ol’ sergeant?”

  North just smiled his most appeasing smile, but did not take the bait.

  “You know why you’re here, Bartram?” Metzger asked. “Because I received a call from General Birmingham that you may not be so keen on taking orders from the CSC anymore. She wanted me to keep an eye on you and make sure you toe the line. I told her she could count on me.”

  “So you had your people grab me and throw me in here?” North asked. “That’s a little more than keeping an eye on me, Coop.”

  “No. No, you don’t,” Metzger said, wagging a finger back and forth. “No Coop for you, Bartram. You had that chance, but you shit on it when you went back to Sergeant Metzger. You can call me Sergeant-at-Arms. I’ll call you Bartram because you’re in my domain now, but you call me anything other than Sergeant-at-Arms and we will have a problem. And more problems are not what you need, Bartram. No, sir, they are not what you need at all.”

  “What do I need then?” North asked.

  “You need to tell me what you have been up to,” Metzger said. “You see, Bartram, when the general told me that maybe you couldn’t be trusted, a few things started to click into place. That recruit blowing himself up in the bay, you being the last person to see the commandant alive, that dust up you had in the commandant’s office with the ‘cloaked’ attacker, you fighting with the general over the comm, and then trying to get a tech to switch out the simulation bays. Not to mention your little pharma habit. We all know about that.”

  “Those are a lot of pieces,” North said. “But I don’t see how they fit other than they’re just part of the same crazy shit everyone else on this station has been dealing with.”

  “So you don’t deny the pharma habit?” Metzger grinned.

  “I don’t have a habit, no,” North said. “I may come to rely on pharma more than I should, but that’s due to the stress and workload of my job, not because I have any addiction. The CSC encourages all officers to keep up to level even if that means an extra boost now and again.”

  “An extra boost now and again?” Metzger laughed. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

  “I actually haven’t had any pharma in a couple hours,” North said. “Been too busy today.”

  “I bet you have. I bet you have,” Metzger said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out three injectors then slapped them onto the table. “But now you’re not so busy. I bet you’d love to get right, wouldn’t you? Have a little taste and clear the cobwebs.”

  North stared at the injectors. He could feel his body respond to the idea of a little pharma boost. His mouth began to salivate and his pulse increased. A lump formed in his throat and he had to swallow a few times to dislodge it. His skin prickled then went slightly clammy as he broke out into a cold sweat. It took all his willpower not to reach across the table and snatch up an injector.

  “Oh, you want it,” Metzger said. “Jesus, man, look at you! You’re shaking like a dog that’s pissed on the floor and is waiting to get hit! Holy shit do you have it bad!”

  “I’m fine,” North said, his shaky voice betraying him. “Don’t need anything now except a square hot and some sleep.”

  “Yeah, right, sure that’s all you need,” Metzger chuckled. He picked up one of the injectors and placed it to his wrist. “Well, if you ain’t gonna have some then I hate to see it go to waste.”

  “Coop, I think you’ve had enough,” North said.

  “What did you fucking call me?” Metzger yelled as he tossed the injector aside and lunged across the table. “What did you just call me?”

  Metzger grabbed North by the collar and yanked him close to his face. North could smell the fetid after burn of pharma that wafted from Metzger’s pores and, if he hadn’t been convinced the man was a hundred kilometers past stable, he knew it then. It had been a long time since he’d witnessed a pharma binge like the one Metzger was on. Not since his infantry days out in the systems.

  “I warned you, Bartram,” Metzger said. “I said, if you called me anything except for Sergeant-at-Arms, that you were going to have a problem. Now you have a problem.”

  Metzger shoved North back and the major tumbled backwards out of his chair. He lay there on the floor, his eyes watching Metzger closely, not making any sudden moves that would incite the sergeant further.

  “Bunk!” Metzger yelled as he sat back down. “Bunk!”

  The hatch to the interrogation room opened and Bunk peeked her head in.

  “Yeah, Sergeant?” Bunk asked then her eyes saw the injector on the floor as it sat in a small pool of pharma, cracked and broken. “Ah, man, what the fuck? Did the junkie do that? What a waste. Good thing we have that crate of—”

  “Shut the fuck up, Bunk,” Metzger snapped. “Just go get me my stick.”

  “Your stick?” Bunk asked, puzzled.

  “My stun baton, you dumbshit,” Metzger said. “Jesus, you’d think that pharma would make you just slightly smarter.”

  “Why didn’t you just say stun baton?” Bunk asked. “That would have been easier. Who has a stick on this station? Sticks are on planets and shit, Sergeant.”

  “Bunk,” Metzger said quietly.

  Bunk stiffened and frowned. “Right. Sorry. I’ll get you your stun baton. You want another injector too?”

  “Yeah,” Metzger said as he picked one up off the table. “Better make it two more. I’m feeling low.”

  North stayed right where he was as the hatch closed and Metzger activated the injector. His whole body stiffened then he slowly relaxed and smiled down at North.

  “I can see why you love this stuff so much,” Metzger said. “I was never much into riding this feeling, but now that I’m all clear on what’s going on I can see the benefits.”

  “Clear on what’s going on?” North asked cautiously.

  “Yeah, Bartram,” Metzger said, setting the spent injector down on the table. He picked up the other one and twirled it in his fingers, spinning it faster and faster as he talked. “It’s so clear now. So clear how you’ve been secretly bringing in doublegangers. You let them file in with the recruits, hidden amongst thousands of scared faces so that no one can see the lies in their eyes.”

  Metzger snorted and slapped his leg.

  “Lies in their eyes,” he laughed. “That’s a good rhyme. Lies in their eyes.”

  “You don’t honestly think I’m working for the Estelians, do you?” North asked, suddenly a lot worried than he was before.

  When Metzger came in all jacked up, North thought he was just dealing with a man that had snapped under pressure. But with the revelation that Metzger thought he was an Estelian collaborator, he knew he was in way too deep to just talk his way out.

  “Oh, I know you aren’t working for the DGs,” Metzger laughed, the injector spinning, spinning, spinning. “You are a DG. It’s so obvious.”

  Metzger pulled Terlinger’s medal from his pocket.

  “This,” Metzger said. “Why’d you steal this from the commandant?” He tucked it away. “Don’t matter. You’d just lie.”

  North’s mouth went completely dry. It was considerably worse than just being a collaborator. Anyone suspected of being an actual Estelian could be executed without prejudice. No trial, no tribunal.

  “Test me,” North said quickly. “Get a scanner and test me. You’ll see I’m not a fucking doub
leganger. It’s an easy test, Sergeant-at-Arms Metzger. Just have Bunk bring you a scanner and you’ll see…that… Shit.”

  “Uh-oh,” Metzger smirked. “Did you just realize that maybe I’ve had the scanners recalibrated after that suicidal fuck killed all those recruits and murdered the commandant? Yeah, I did exactly that. Made sure every scanner was in working order and wouldn’t be acting up. I bet that screwed up your plans, didn’t it? Thought you could get away with tampering all the scanners, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t tamper with anything,” North said. “It’s just that my chip has been acting up lately. Even if you scan me you may not get a clean reading.”

  “Is that so?” Metzger asked. “So you aren’t hearing the orders coming in from CSC right now then?”

  “Orders? No, I’m not,” North said. “Listen, like I said, you may not get a clean reading, but if you just—”

  “Oh, I know I won’t get a clean reading,” Metzger said. “I won’t get a clean reading because you’re a damned doubleganger. You’re a murdering, disgusting, lower than shit doubleganger. I shouldn’t have had Bunk bring me my stick, I should have had her bring my scorcher so I could put you out of your misery right now.”

  North waited a second then asked, “Why don’t you?”

  “What’s that?” Metzger asked.

  “Why don’t you shoot me?” North pushed. “Why not take your scorcher and blow my head right off? What’s stopping you?”

  “Not what the general wants,” Metzger said.

  “Is that what she told you? She ordered you not to kill me?” North asked.

  “No, she didn’t, but Ngyuen relayed the message to me,” Metzger said. “Interrogate, but don’t terminate. Interrogate, but don’t terminate. Damn! That’s almost as good as lies in their eyes!”

  “Ngyuen told you not to kill me?” North asked.

  “Yeah, she’s been a huge help with the questioning of the suspects,” Metzger said. “Some of those sad little DGs didn’t even know they were admitting anything, but Ngyuen helped me break the code, get past their lies and bullshit to see what they were really saying.”

  “Ngyuen has been helping you,” North whispered.

  “What’s that?” Metzger asked.

  “That Ngyuen can really be a huge help, that’s for sure,” North said.

  “Not much help to you, though,” Metzger said. “I mean she’ll help me figure out what you have really been saying in here once we play the recordings back, but ain’t a thing she can do to get you out of the mess you made. Shit, Bartram, after all we’ve been through, I almost feel sorry for you.” He stopped spinning the injector. “I should let you have this since it could be the last bit of pharma you ever see. Wherever the CSC takes you won’t have the good stuff like this.”

  “You should have it,” North said. “Take that taste on my behalf.”

  “I should, shouldn’t I?” Metzger nodded. “Yeah, why waste it on your DG ass? Scum like you doesn’t deserve good pharma.”

  Metzger stared down at the injector for a few seconds then put it to his wrist and activated it. Again, his body went stiff. North didn’t hesitate. He took that moment to make his move.

  He was up and diving at Metzger before the sergeant even knew what was going on. North cleared the top of the table easily, his arms wrapping around Metzger’s torso as his shoulder slammed into the sergeant’s chest. Metzger huffed loudly and started to sputter in surprise as the two men fell to the floor.

  Metzger cried out as the back of his head hit the floor, but the amount of pharma in him kept the pain at bay. North could see that instantly and again he did not hesitate as he brought a forearm down across Metzger’s throat then slammed his fist into the side of the man’s head over and over.

  His eyes wild and bloodshot, Metzger tried to push North off of him, but the lack of oxygen took its toll. He clawed at North, spittle flying from his lips as he choked and gagged. Then slowly his strength ebbed and he just laid there, North’s weight pressing down on him.

  “Coop?” North asked as Metzger’s eyes closed. Cautiously, North eased up on the pressure to Metzger’s throat. “Coop?”

  North placed his fingers to Metzger’s neck and was glad there was still a pulse. He needed the man out of commission, not dead.

  “Sorry, Coop,” North said as he patted Metzger down, hunting for anything useful, but the man was too careful, even in his pharmaed state, and he’d left anything that could be used as a weapon outside of the interrogation room.

  Just as North stood up, the hatch to the room started to open and North sprang into action. He reached out and grabbed Bunk by the arm as the woman stepped inside. Her eyes went wide as she saw Metzger’s unconscious body. She tried to cry out as North’s grip yanked her through the hatch and right at his waiting fist.

  “He—!” Bunk started to scream, but the word was cut off by North’s knuckles shattering her front teeth.

  “Fuck,” North shouted as he let Bunk go then slammed his elbow into the spot right between the guard’s eyes.

  He shook his hand, sending droplets of blood flying everywhere from the gouges Bunk’s teeth had made across his fist. Bunk stood there in front of North for a second then her legs gave out and she crumpled to the floor, half of her draped across Metzger.

  North pulled the stun baton from Bunk’s hand, started to flee the room, then turned and snagged the injectors from Bunk’s other hand. He stuffed the pharma into a pocket, activated the stun baton, and rushed through the hatch into the corridor beyond.

  Two surprised guards just stared at him, as if they couldn’t comprehend what was happening. North could see they were just as pharmaed as Metzger and Bunk, so he dialed the stun baton as high as it would go and readied himself.

  “As acting commandant of the Perpetuity, I order both of you to stand down,” North announced. “Lay your weapons on the floor and we can resolve this peacefully.”

  North almost rolled his eyes as he saw the indecision on the guards’ faces. They didn’t know whether to listen to the major or to go at him. They also seemed confused whether they should use their stun batons or their scorchers they had slung across their backs. Their arms sort of twitched back and forth as their pharmaed minds short circuited.

  “Just put your weapons down and back away,” North said, taking one cautious step after the other towards the guards. “That’s an order, gentlemen. You don’t want to end up on the front lines. You have a nice gig here on the Perpetuity. Comply with my orders and you’ll stay here.”

  But with North’s next step, the guards seemed to come to and they both went for their scorchers.

  “Shit,” North said, diving and rolling across the floor at the guards.

  He closed the distance and swung out with the stun baton, connecting with the first guard’s knee. The blow alone would have crippled the man, but it was the thousands of volts of electricity pulsing through him that took the guard down. He collapsed in a heap of twitching muscle and flailing limbs.

  North spun about on his knee and slammed the stun baton against the thigh of the second guard just as the man had brought his scorcher around. The weapon barked and a plasma bolt singed the side of North’s face, but the major ignored the pain and jammed the stun baton into the guard’s gut. North rolled to the side and let the man fall on top of his comrade then jumped to his feet and slammed a boot into the back of the man’s head, just in case.

  “Should have listened,” North said as he tucked the stun baton into his belt.

  He grabbed up both men’s’ scorchers, slung them across his back then knelt and removed their pistols and stun batons. He found their cuffs and secured their hands behind their backs then stood up and looked down the corridor one way then the other.

  He knew he couldn’t really hide on the Perpetuity, not with his chip and wrist interface. If he wasn’t locked out of the system, he could implement a security lockdown and at least clear the corridors of nonessential personnel. But he had
a sinking feeling that his new privileges as acting commandant had been removed.

  North picked a direction and jogged down the corridor to the first lift doors he could find. He pressed his wrist to the panel and sighed with relief when the doors slid apart. He hurried in then realized he had no idea where to go. Where could he hide? Who could he trust?

  What the fuck was going on?

  “Locate Lieutenant Linklater,” he called out as the lift doors closed. “Take me to him.”

  “Lieutenant Linklater cannot be located,” a computerized voice replied. “Please request another destination.”

  “Shit,” North muttered. “Uh, main level of the server tower. Take me there.”

  “Server tower main level,” the voice said. “Acknowledged, Major North.”

  North unslung one of the scorchers and checked the ammunition level. It was fully loaded, but he wasn’t exactly sure if that was a good thing. He aimed the barrel at the lift doors and secured the butt of the plasma rifle against his shoulder. North had no intention of harming anyone. Not if he could help it. But he also had no intention of getting caught again.

  He had to find out what the hell was happening on the Perpetuity, that was his number one priority, and if some folks got hurt in the process then that was just how war was.

  Thirty-Eight

  The fighter skiffs floated in the vacuum, a bunch of immobile dots across the massive canvas of space.

  “There’s nothing coherent coming from the Perpetuity,” London said over the comm. “Half the people I speak with are pharmaed out of their gourds and the other half are covering their asses and refusing to give me any information.”

  “Captain? Are you getting anywhere?” Zenobia called out. “Is Major North responding?”

  “I can’t get him on the comm,” Valencio replied as she flew her skiff between the waiting cadet pilots’ vehicles. “I’m getting the same run around as London. I had Ngyuen on the line for a second, but she refused to answer any questions then she cut me off.”