by A. R. Knight
“Your father would send the coin to get you home, you know,” Puk said as they weaved through to the exit.
“I don’t want to—”
Viola heard the shouts on opening the door. To her left, a stream of people was running back towards the hotel, towards the bays. Early workers, cast in the murky beige of dawn, Eden Prime adjusting itself to let in more bright light. The solar satellite, beaming its power to Eden Prime, glared above Viola.
“Think that’s Davin's doing?” Viola said, pointing towards the crowd.
“Let’s bet on it. If it’s them, you go home. If it’s not, I’ll shut up.”
“Tempting, but we’re going the other way,” Viola moved towards the bays. Phyla had said that if Viola wanted, the Nines had an extra spot. They’d let her go along with them as gratitude for helping Erick. Phyla coupled the invitation with a time check, the Nines wouldn't be waiting for Viola either. Once they were in space, Viola would send a message to her father, tell him where he could get the Gepard.
“Their ship’s broken, remember?” Puk said, gliding along behind her.
“I’m an engineer, and you’re full of all of human knowledge,” Viola replied. “Can’t be that hard to fix.”
“I will play that back to you when it blows up in our faces.”
“That happens, I probably won’t be around to hear it.”
A few minutes walk brought them to the main bay doors, crowded with bots and people shuttling goods in and out. People were talking about a fight, but their tones were curious. Less worried than amused at their friends who'd skipped out of going to the office for fear of a stray laser.
As Viola walked through the main doors, a man wearing a tall, thick coat and wide-brimmed hat brushed against her going the opposite direction. The contact was hard, no give, and Viola stumbled to the side.
“Hey, watch it,” Puk said, buzzing near the man’s head.
The man paused, and Viola noticed that though he was leaving the bays, he wasn’t carrying anything. No luggage. At least, nothing outside of that coat. His head turned and, in the shadow cast by the brim of his hat, Viola could see the wild grin. The man’s teeth shone. Gleamed in the light.
“Uh, never mind Puk,” Viola said. “I’m fine.”
The man stared at her for another second before jerking forward and walking away.
“What's up with that guy?” Puk said.
“Don’t know, don’t want to know,” Viola replied. “Now let’s go before anything else happens.”
25
Prison Break
Jumping into the command center, the two troopers Davin incapacitated with his flashbang were stumbling around, holding their ears. Mox walked up to the first one, took the sidearm on the ground, swapped it to stun, and blasted him in the face. The second guard tried to run away, but tripped on a chair and fell, smacking his head on a console. Mox checked the man, there was breathing.
“Clear,” Mox commed.
Leave them alive. Davin’s command as they left the Jumper. They think we’re murderers, let’s not prove them right. But these troopers, they had already shot Merc. Taken Trina and Cadge. Sabotaged their ship. Mox wasn’t sure when the line to kill was crossed, but the troopers should have crossed it by now.
The door to the command center opened, another trooper.
“What the hell is going —” the trooper said as she stared at the shattered glass.
Mox blasted her with the stunner. Taking two quick strides, Mox caught the woman as she collapsed. On her belt dangled a red keycard, one of those that could open a cell. Mox tore the card off, set the woman in a chair and went hunting for prisoners. The main hallway, on the first floor, wrapped around the prison like a circle, with cells every four meters. The first three were unoccupied, their laser-gates sitting open. Spare beds unruffled.
As Mox approached the fourth, around a bend in the hallway, he could hear a pair of guards talking. Debating whether to run or fight. To keep the prisoner.
It wasn’t their choice.
Mox didn’t so much step as bound around the curve, using the exoskeleton to run nearly two meters a stride, so that when the troopers turned to see what was coming to wreck them, any fight was already lost. Mox struck the closer guard with his shoulder, leaning into the charge, and knocked the trooper into his comrade, sending them both spilling to the ground. The cell to the left held Trina, lying on the bed. But only her.
“Where is other one?” Mox said to the cowering guards. “Short. Angry.”
“We don’t know!” the trooper Mox hadn’t hit said, holding his hands out in front of himself. “She’s the only one here, promise!”
“Are you lying?” Mox said, standing over them.
The panic in their faces told more truth than their blubbering denials.
“Then run,” Mox said. “And I will not break you.”
Both of them, the one Mox hit going gingerly, rose to their feet and ran. When one tried to keep his gun, Mox reached out, grabbed the weapon and tore it from the trooper’s hands. Mox slammed the gun into the wall until it was little more than broken plastic. The only sound after that was their boots as the troopers ran.
Mox pressed the card to the cell door and the laser gates cut off with a fizzle. On the thin bed in the cell, a woman lay unconscious. Still stunned. Still breathing. Mox picked her up from the bed, blanket and all, and walked from the cell.
26
Not Gone Yet
Davin and Opal held Merc over their shoulders and ran back towards bay three.
“I have Trina,” Mox commed. “Cadge is not here.”
“Mox,” Opal commed. “Don’t forget my rifle!”
“I will get it,” Mox replied. “You will owe me.”
“Can’t you get another one?” Davin asked Opal between breaths.
“You make me leave it, you buy me a new one.”
“How much do they cost?”
Opal said the amount like a curse, and Davin replied in kind.
“Davin?” Phyla’s voice over the comm. “What's the status?”
“Mox has Trina and we’re comin’ home. No Cadge though. Is Erick better?”
“He’s moving, but it’s not good.”
“Then read upon laser burns, cause we’re going to need a doctor.”
The doors to bay one and the shipping corridor loomed large in the growing morning. Yellowed lights projected on the large, dark gray slabs that would move aside when Davin approached. Eden branded the doors with the intertwining greens that made up their logo, echoing to rainforests Davin had never seen. The entire plaza was empty, not a good sign for what should have been a busy rush of morning lift-offs.
As they approached the entrance door, it didn’t open.
“Ah, crap,” Davin said.
“Figures it won't open,” Opal said.
“Phyla?” Davin commed. “I need you to see what’s holding the doors shut to the bays. We can’t get in.”
“We don’t have access to Eden Prime’s internal network anymore.” Phyla said. “They cut us off when —”
“That ever stopped you before?” Davin interrupted. “We need these doors opened now!”
“On it,” Phyla replied.
Setting Merc near the edge of the doors, back against the big bay walls, Davin handed Opal his holstered sidearm. She took it with a nod, then dashed away from the doors and into the shadows near large stacks of crates waiting for outgoing ships. Connecting the dots; the locked door, the boulevard empty of crowds during a busy part of the morning, and it wasn’t hard to see the outline of a trap.
“Davin Masters!” Ferro’s voice poured out of nowhere. “We meet again, and this time it will not go well for you.”
Davin tried tracing the sound, but stopped when Ferro walked out into the boulvard, keeping plenty of room between them. He must have been waiting in a store. More proof they were triggering a trap. Davin hated traps, especially when he was caught in them.
“Great,” D
avin said. “Glad to hear it.”
“I appreciate the attitude,” Ferro said. “More fun to wipe the smile off of a face than a frown.”
Ferro raised a hand and Davin felt something drop on his shoulders and knock him to the ground, breath flying from his lungs and a sharp crack sounding in his chest. His face kissed the floor. The hell was that?
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that ruin your comeback?” Ferro said. “Then I think what happens next will leave you at a total loss for words.”
“Don’t think comedy’s your thing, Ferro,” Davin wheezed, trying to gather enough strength to lift whatever was on top of him away.
Melody, black and wicked, sat a meter away. Close enough to roll to, grab, and squeeze the trigger. Burning Ferro to a crisp would make a solid punchline to this surreal conversation.
Opal must not have a shot. Or she thought Davin could take it. Either way, Davin had to get this thing off his back.
“Good thing you are a captive audience,” Ferro said. The man wasn't moving any closer. Wasn't pulling a gun. Why?
Ribs hurting, Davin collected his hands and pushed. Off of his back rolled something in a thick body bag, something with lumps and blunt edges. But Davin couldn’t spare a look. He rolled to Melody, picked it up, and fired it straight up towards where the drop had come from. A pair of troopers watching on the second floor walkway leading to flight control. Waiting for something.
Davin wasn't going to play their game. Melody spat out six balls of grass-colored fire that struck the troopers and the bay wall, bursting into small fires on impact. The troopers fell, rolling on the ground to put out the flames.
Davin heard a surprised shout from behind and knew Opal caught her cue. Ferro was running away, ducking away and out of sight.
“Missed him!” Opal whispered over the comm.
“Getting sloppy, Opal,” Davin replied, backing towards the bay doors and Merc, who was lying there, chest rising and falling in shallow breaths. “Where are we at, Phyla?”
“Almost,” Phyla commed.
Davin suddenly remembered the thing that’d fallen on him. It was a large bag, with something in it, something moving. If he had Opal’s beam knife…
“Davin, that you?” called a muffled voice inside the bag. “Cut me out of here, man!”
“Cadge?” Davin said. “You’re… in the bag?”
“Congrats, you win the prize,” Cadge said. “But you only get the reward if you get me out.”
“Don’t have a knife,” Davin said. “Give me a minute to think.”
The sound of a door opening up above. Davin looked at the walkway where the troopers had been burning, and saw nothing. Following their commander into the dark. Cowards.
“What wrong with you people?” Davin yelled at the space. “Who drops a person on somebody?”
“I did not drop her,” Mox, holding Trina and with Opal’s rifle slung over his back, stomped around the curve and into view.
“Nice of you to show,” Davin said. “You see Ferro, any troopers come your way?”
Mox shook his head.
“I’ve got the doors,” Phyla’s commed. “Marl may have locked us out, but Eden Prime’s security is as crappy as ever.”
“I am profoundly thankful for their incompetence,” Davin replied. “Open’em.”
The bay doors lurched open, revealing the corridor beyond, and a person, leaning against the wall, sporting a thick and tall coat that covered his entire side. A collar that nearly touched the brim of the hat. The person didn’t turn, didn’t react to the sudden reveal of a wounded pilot, a metal-framed man holding an unconscious woman, a squirming bag, and Davin aiming Melody straight down the corridor.
“Now, who are you?” Davin said.
The person’s head turned towards him. At ten meters, Davin couldn’t see the man’s face. But something glinted in that dark space. Teeth, maybe?
“Mox, cut Cadge out,” Davin said, keeping the gun aimed on the person. “I’m not getting any warm and fuzzy vibes from Dark’n’Quiet over here.”
“Davin, what’s the problem?” Phyla commed. “I’ve got our bay doors unlocked, but I don’t know how long that’ll last.”
“There’s someone in the corridor,” Davin said. “Will keep you informed.”
“Mister Masters,” the shape said, its voice a meandering whisper. “You and your band have been charged with a crime. A grievous one.”
Davin heard Mox tearing open Cadge’s bag, the little man coughing up a storm as he breathed in fresh air.
“Never thought of us as a band. More like a company. A squad,” Davin replied, taking a step towards the man. Putting distance between himself and Trina, Merc.
“Murder, Mister Masters,” the person continued, still leaning against the corridor wall. “The given punishment by the Free Laws is death.”
“The Free Laws?” Davin laughed. “Those are a bunch of crap.”
A product of the corporations to govern outer space. No government, no votes by any populace. Just a bunch of people in a board room deciding how they wanted to punish peons they didn’t like.
“Androids do not judge,” The person said. “We are merely an instrument of justice.”
The androids, impartial enforcers of Free Law punishment, provided a company would pay for one. That Eden coughed up the coin wasn’t exactly surprising. That Davin’s hands were sweating, his heart pounding, that wasn’t surprising either. Androids, he could do without.
“Guess I’ll take you as a compliment. Didn’t know we were worth that much,” Davin said, then, to Mox and Cadge. “Get going. I’ll distract him till you get by.”
The android didn’t reply,turned to face Davin straight on. Mox and Cadge, the former carrying Merc and the latter holding Trina, edged away.
“You got this captain?” Cadge said. “Guy looks a little messy.”
“Just go for the ship when it comes at me,” Davin said. “I don’t want to worry about you.”
The android broke into a run right at Davin. Its coat billowed out behind, and as the android ran, its arms pumped forward and a pair of nasty looking knives appeared in its palms. Up close and personal, then. The kind of fight Davin wanted. The captain raised Melody and, backpedaling back to the boulevard, pulled the trigger.
Melody’s six green bolts converged on the android, who, just before the shots struck home, jumped off of the corridor floor, pushed off of the side wall, and flipped over the bolts. The android hit the ground running. A helluva move. Only meters between the two of them.
In his peripheral, Davin saw Mox and Cadge make a break down the corridor with their precious cargo. Davin had to last long enough for them to get away.
The android passed the bay doors, went out into the boulevard lights. The android’s face had a rigid exactitude to it. A perfection to the skin, the bones. Lacking life's nicks and scratches. A man’s face, but not a man. And it was about to kill him.
The laser shot out at an angle from the shadows to Davin’s right. The aim was dead on, striking the android in the chest. It barely flinched, keeping its stride moving, a molten black mark just below the shoulder where Opal shot it. Davin saw the android’s right hand slide back, knife pointed, and swung Melody in the way . The android’s arm pumped, the blade striking Melody’s barrel with a metallic screech and sliding off. Then the android ran into Davin. The two of them fell to the ground, Davin underneath, Melody in the space between them. In a second, Davin was going to get very, very stabbed.
The android’s left arm drew back while Davin struggled to throw the bot away. The android didn’t look that big, but was it heavy. Arms pushing against Melody pushing against the robot, Davin couldn’t get an inch. Then another bolt came from the shadows, this time striking the android in the head.
It hesitated, the left side of its skull a molten goo, and Davin, using Melody as a brace, slid out from beneath the robot. The knife stabbed a moment later, tearing through the sleeve of Davin’s coat and sticking the floor.
Davin pulled Melody out with him and, as the android turned its half-face to look at him, Davin fired.
This time there wasn’t any room for the android to move, and the bolts blasted its chest. It stumbled backwards, gouts of green flame rising from its burning clothes. Both knives dropped, bouncing off the floor as the robot’s hands tried to pat out the fire.
“Time to run!” Davin yelled, but Opal was way ahead of him. Already disappearing through the bay doors. Davin set off after her. Clear the bay doors, slam them shut and they’d have enough time to get away. A red bolt seared past Davin’s head, scoring off of the corridor ceiling. Only a another few strides till he was through. Opal, in the corridor, turned and aimed past Davin, squeezing off shot after shot over Davin’s shoulders.
“Shut the door now!” Davin said into the comm and, a half-second later, the sound of the doors clanging shut behind Davin’s back brought immense relief. A cold shower of hope. Davin looked over at Opal as they walked the corridor and she gave him a nod. She’d saved his life. Not for the first, probably not for the last, time.
“You make it?” Phyla commed.
“I’m in. We’ll be there in two. I want to be gone by three.”
27
Picking up Pieces
Trina shook awake, feeling droplets all over her face. Blinked into the bright light of the med bay. Erick stood over her, and Trina felt pressure on her wrist. The sensation came slow, her muscles soft, eyes and ears muffled, like coming awake from a deep dream. Except her heart, which beat like she’d sprinted a kilometer.
“Don’t worry,” Erick said to her. “I had to spike you with adrenaline, then gave you a spray with the mister to shake you out. The numbness should fade in a minute. Normally I’d wait the stun effects out, but the ship appears stuck without your help.”
