Raw Justice

by Martyn J. Pass

  “Stay sharp and unless anything changes, meet down here for breakfast,” I said before heading towards the elevator. “Keep your comms units on you at all times.”

  “Will do,” said Baz. “I might do some more shopping first.”

  “Alice will love you,” I said. “She'll enjoy taking it out of your wages.”

  “What can I say? I've got to look good for the company image, right?”

  “Turn around and look at Mason,” I laughed. He did so, noting that his arms were folded across his chest and his forearms looked like knotted tree roots. His shoulders and traps bulged from under his shirt and, towering above us all with a head of cropped hair and mutton-chop sideburns, he scowled at Baz, no doubt as ashamed of his shopping habits as I was. “That's the company image right there. You should be more like that though you won't find it for sale here, pal. See you later.”

  I went up to my room and flopped on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It could've been a room on the Hikane. The décor was almost the same, similar walls, slightly cheaper carpet underfoot, same style of furniture. The air wasn't as fresh though and I had a feeling that the recycling units hadn't been serviced in a while. There was a balcony through double-glass doors and it led onto a platform suspended above the precinct below but surrounded in glass like a bubble.

  I thought about the last few hours and wondered if I'd get a headache trying to process it all. I'd have to speak to Aleksei, fill him in before we committed to the assault but I wanted to put that off until we had more options. Time was running out and once it did we'd be out here on our own, no doubt having to explain why we weren't on the retreat and why attending court to testify against our friend wouldn't be possible.

  That led me to thoughts of Jo. What had happened? Why had I been able to keep Angel's prying at bay but let Jo slip straight on in past all my guards? What made her different and was this really the time to have to work all that out? I'd never been one who could be led by his groin and I'd never understood why men so often were, especially when it was obvious that the end result would be disastrous. Mason had drawn a line with Lorna – this far and no further. He'd tried to love her and when it was going south he'd walked away, just like that. So why was I stuck thinking about my engineer in her coveralls, sweat glistening on her brow as she repaired the ship?

  I continued to lie there for at least an hour, thinking just that as I heard a gentle knock on the door. Without getting up and answering it I knew it was Jo and my heart decided to skip a few of those beats I needed. I mentally checked my feelings, mastered a bit of control, and made for the door.

  “Hey,” she said when it slid open. “Tell me to go away if you want but I've got a bottle of vodka and what I was promised was authentic Commonwealth Bara Cake by a strange looking man in-”

  “I could sack you for bribing your boss,” I said flatly. “Cake and vodka?”

  “Yes,” she said, her voice hoarse with emotion. “I thought it might get me a pay rise.”

  “I'll be the judge of that,” I grinned. “Come in.”

  She was in a pair of baggy shorts and a loose tee and her hair fell in gentle waves to her shoulders like she was fresh from the shower and ready for bed. I realized then that she'd gone back for her overnight bag and kicked myself for not doing the same. She wore no shoes and she stood with one delicate foot on top of the other as if balancing on a wire. She walked past me and I caught the scent of a mild perfume on her skin. Closing the door behind me, I turned on the lamps and switched off the bright overhead lighting. She grabbed a couple of pillows from the cupboards and threw them on the floor, sitting cross-legged against the wall. I went and sat opposite her, setting two glasses between us.

  “Bara cake?” I asked as she opened the cardboard box and handed me one of the round balls of dough. “What's in it?”

  “I didn't ask.” We bit into them and cream squirted out of the other side and down our fingers. They tasted spicy, like cinnamon but more pungent, richer, and topped with a sweetness I couldn't put my finger on. We laughed and began wiping our hands with napkins from the box.

  “What do you think?” she asked. I nodded my approval.

  “Delicious,” I said. “Better than my caramel slice from before.”

  “Right?” she laughed. “I overheard someone talking about them when I went for the vodka so I knew I had to get us one.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I mean it.”

  She licked her fingers clean and sat back as I poured us both a generous amount of vodka. Again I was struck with how comfortable she made me feel even when we weren't speaking. It felt okay not to say anything and I didn't find myself straining for words.

  “Cheers,” she said and we clinked glasses.

  “You're a vodka drinker?” I asked. She nodded.

  “It's always been cheap,” she said. “When I was in college most of us drank it neat so we could get drunk quicker and with less of an impact on our tiny bank accounts.”

  “Classy.”

  “You bet. Guys there sometimes distilled it themselves but our tutors cottoned on pretty quick. If anyone was caught with the equipment it was instant dismissal from the course.”

  “Was it good stuff?”

  “Larry made a batch that could strip paint,” she laughed. “Ran up dozens of bottles before he got rumbled. Got away with it though.”

  “How?”

  “Turns out he was supplying our fusion-reactor tutor who used it to dull the pain from his cancer. The college brushed it under the proverbial carpet.”

  “Wow,” I said. “Sounds like you had a wild time.”

  “Yeah, laugh a minute,” she groaned and emptied her glass, pouring us both another. “Maybe I should've got two bottles.”

  I leaned over and pulled open the fridge beneath the desk. A light came on inside the little box and we counted at least three half-bottles on the top shelf.

  “Cheers!” she beamed and we clinked again. “What should we drink to?”

  “How about a suicidal-assault on a heavily-defended, highly-criminal data vault?”

  “I was thinking maybe something more serious?” she giggled. “But okay, here's to that.” We drained the glasses and I poured another round. “I'm coming with you.”

  “Like hell,” I replied. “No chance.”

  “Because we...?”

  “Yes,” I said and felt the weight of that sit in my gut. Because we kissed. “And because you're not combat-trained.”

  “And you're qualified in level IV plasma-cutting tech, right? You know how to operate the robotic units and avoid blowing yourself up cutting through triton-steel?”

  “Stop talking dirty,” I grinned.

  “I'm getting aroused, I'll admit. But I'm being serious – none of you can do that. You need me down there doing the tech-stuff.”

  I thought about it as we drank, this time sipping at what was pretty good vodka given that the drink never really had a strong taste unless it was from Sweden on Earth. Somehow they'd managed to capitalize on that flavor in spite of galactic expansion.

  “You'd have to be in armor,” I said. She nodded.

  “Already thought about that. If Mason can get me a FARGO Technician suit, maybe one of the S6 models, its controls will be similar to the ones I trained in for zero-g repair work. Heavy armor but without compromising my motor functions.”

  “Can we put cards on the table?” I asked. She nodded but first gestured that we should move on to the next round. We did and she poured another. My head was starting to swim already.

  “Shoot,” she said.

  “You'd be a distraction, one that I can't afford.”

  “Yes,” she replied. “I would be. I won't say I'm sorry for kissing you. I won't say that I'm not aware that Angel was already on your mind.” I looked at her and sighed. “Maybe an evil part of me wanted to get in first, you know? Beat her to it. That's horrible, isn't it?”

  “No,” I said softly. “I get it. I'm not sure I'm worth
fighting over but-”

  “Please don't,” she cut in. “You're sliding back into the soldier again, Carter. Selfless. Doing the whole 'I'm no good' routine but meanwhile seeing the very best in everyone around you. That's not fair to me and it's not fair to you.”

  “Okay,” I said and put my hand on her knee. She was warm to touch and the feeling of something other than metal, of armor or the hull of a ship, suddenly felt alien to my fingers. Had it been so long?

  “Answer me this,” she said. “Would you only be distracted by me or are you actually distracted by your entire team?”

  “I don't understand.”

  “So if Mason or Baz gets hurt would you feel any less care for them than if it were me?” I stared at her, suddenly realizing what she was saying. “What about Thor? You brought his CPU back while under fire and he's just a robot! And Jimmy? Mozzy?”

  “I hear you,” I managed to say.

  “I hope so. Because if you try to shelter us, if you try to wrap us in a protective film then TRIDENT's days are numbered.”

  “What's your answer then?”

  “Let us do what we need to do,” she said. “And understand that some of us might not make it back and it won't be your fault.”

  Silence fell between us. She was right, it was the same theme Mason had spoken to me about not-so-long ago. The team's strongest link, our friendship, was also contradictorily its weakest.

  “In that thread of an idea,” I said. “We have to realize the ugly truth of this entire mission.”

  “Which is?”

  “What if we succeed? What if the mission goes to plan and we get into the data vault and find that there's nothing there to help Angel? What if, in the end, she still faces execution after all we've done?”

  She shrugged with such care that it felt like an embrace, a kind of understanding I don't know but we'll get through it together kind of unspoken gesture. She raised her glass, her eyes sparkling in the light where tears were welling. I nodded and we drank.

  Just then my comms unit chimed and as I poured another round Mason's name appeared on the display.

  “Go,” I said.

  “Channel 62. Hurry because you've only missed the first few minutes.” Then he hung up. Jo shot me a quizzical look. I got up and found the remote for the screen opposite the bed and turned it on. Then I started laughing.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Possibly one of the greatest movies of all time,” I said. “A.P.E.X.”

  “Isn't that like hundreds of years old?”

  “Yeah,” I replied. “Fancy watching it with me?”

  “Only if you order room service. That cake was nice but it was no meal.”

  I passed her the plastic-coated menu and wrote a text-message to Mason.

  EVEN IN THE DEPTHS OF SPACE, THEY HAVE GOOD TASTE.

  I pressed SEND and drank a little more vodka, watching the movie as Jo paced up and down, scanning the menu. Then came the reply.

  MAKE SURE YOU EDUCATE JO ON THE MERITS OF CLASSIC CINEMA. ENJOY YOUR EVENING, PAL.

  How the hell had he known? He must have seen her heading to my room, it was the only explanation. I thought about it as she made her choice, pointing to the menu.

  “Wanna share?” she asked, looking up at me with those fathomless eyes framed in golden hair.

  “Mmmm,” I said and leaned into her, meeting her kiss as it rose up to greet me. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around my waist. When we broke she chuckled to herself.

  “I meant the food but that will do for starters.”

  So we watched the film curled up on the bed with empty plates and full stomachs and already making efforts with our second bottle. As it ended she sat up and looked at me with a wild grin.

  “That was frickin' awesome!” she said. “It was so bad it was brilliant!”

  “It lacks nothing,” I laughed. “Great cast, awesome script.”

  “That guy with the lisp – hilarious!”

  “What about the ending?”

  “A classic. Didn't see that coming.”

  She poured the last of the bottle into our glasses and passed one to me. By now we'd reached that pleasantly-drunk phase where the world seemed rosy and bright and our lives nothing but a fairy-tale. If I was to avoid a hangover tomorrow I'd have to rein it in from this point on.

  Jo turned off the screen and the room was plunged into silence. Then, deftly straddling my thighs, she looked down and grinned.

  “I want so badly to do this,” she said, squirming a little and causing the obvious reaction in me. I shook my head.

  “But we're not going to, Jo.” She smiled and one of her tears fell from her eyes and landed on my cheek.

  “No, we're not.”

  We kissed and held each other in that place for what felt like forever. Then we pulled back and she rested her forehead on mine, openly crying now.

  “This has been the best night of my life,” she sobbed. “I mean that, I really do. But I want this to be special, not here, not now, not before a mission that might take all this away from us.”

  “It's a risk we have to take,” I said in a voice I found was hoarse and choked with emotion. “We're not cheap. This isn't cheap.”

  “But it would cheapen it, right? Turn it into something worthless.” I nodded a little and she managed to laugh. “I want to stay the night. Here. In your arms. I want to feel safe for one more night before...”

  “And tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow we go back to work,” she said. “Tomorrow we begin our plan to save Angel, one of our own. We've had this and I feel lucky and blessed but after tonight we-”

  “We focus on the job,” I finished for her. “Until it's done.”

  “Until it's done.”

  She kissed me again and then, reaching for the light, she threw us both into darkness. As I lifted the covers off the bed she climbed in beside me and fitted into my arms like she'd been made for that space. Her last words, whispered into the poorly recycled air sounded like I love you.

  24

  Jo slipped away to her own room around 6.30 the following morning and I lay there, staring up at the ceiling smiling. I allowed myself that because the moment I got out of bed it would all go away, back into that place I kept those feelings, back where I'd put them at the end of the Martian war after-

  I shook my head of that line of thought and sighed. No going back, I'd told myself all those years ago. No digging that memory back up. Only Mason knew about it and I planned to keep it that way. The Mars conflict had taken a lot from me but I wouldn't let it continue to make withdrawals on my life.

  My comms unit chimed and I lifted my arm to look at it. A single message from Mason.

  GOT A SEC? BALCONY OUTSIDE OUR ROOMS.

  I got up, threw on my trousers and boots and walked out into the corridor feeling a little ropey. The air inside the room was hot and so I felt better walking bare-chested to the balcony a little further down where I found Mason looking out over the other floors below. He was in his gym vest and the service tattoo on his arm stood out in the painfully bright lighting from above. I stood next to him, matching his stance by resting my forearms on the rail. We both looked down.

  “We good?” he asked without turning his head.

  “We good,” I replied.

  “I was worried for a moment that maybe you'd lost focus on what we're doing here.”

  “I haven't lost it but it sure feels sharper now.” He nodded slowly in the corner of my eye.

  “She's a good kid,” he said. “And God knows that after... you know, Mars, you deserve something like her.”

  “Are we having a big-brother kind of chat here?” I asked. He smiled.

  “Yeah, we are. Now shut up and let me finish.”

  “Okay.”

  “When I asked for help with Lorna, you gave it, no questions asked. I respected that. Even though the outcome wasn't what I'd have liked, we got the job done and the chips fell where they did. I don't regre
t it. Now here we are, out in the ass-end of nowhere on behalf of a teammate this time, one I thought maybe you had an interest in.”

  “I'm not sure that I did now, not really,” I admitted.

  “So where does Jo come into this?” I shrugged.

  “She made the first move yesterday, kind of blind-sided me. I didn't know she felt like that and I'm not used to-” I felt my skin heat up. “You know. This kind of attention. Then she came to my room last night and we had a fantastic evening together. Nothing else happened by the way. Just want to make that clear, right?”

  “I might have lost some respect for you if it had,” he said. I went on.

  “Now I'm left thinking all the same things I've thought for years. Is it just the environment? Is it just the rush of danger? What will happen in a year? Two years?”

  “Do you like Jo?” The question came out of left-field and I felt my heart stagger under its bluntness.

  “Yes,” I said. “If you'd have asked me three days ago I'd have wondered what that question even meant. But now, after last night, I see her for who she really is and I can't believe I never noticed her before.”

  “Maybe you did. Maybe you never let yourself know it.”

  “That's a bit deep, Mason,” I laughed. He slammed his fist into my shoulder and I shuddered under the blow.

  “You know you've cursed us, right?” he said.

  “Why?”

  “You didn't sleep with her. I bet you made all kinds of 'after-action' promises. In any movie that means one or both of you is going to die, you know that, right?”

  “That's dark comedy even for you.”

  “Got to keep it that way,” he said, turning serious once more. “This isn't going to be a walk in the park, brother. We're going to have to plan and plan some more on this one. We're going to need every single piece of hardware and every scrap of training we can muster to pull this off.”

  “I hear you,” I nodded. “It's been playing on my mind since Mozzy came up with the crazy scheme. It's a heist of epic proportions.”

  “Biggest bank-job the Commonwealth has ever seen.”