Haven - a Steel Falcon Novella

by N. K. Quinn

“I told you I’m not your damsel in distress,” she hissed and pushed past him. “Who is this guy?”

  “Scorps and NCs call him Doc to his face, but most people call him Rags.”

  They continued through the labyrinth of tunnels and rooms until they came upon an office with the door ajar. Soft light flickered inside and Izzy pushed the door open. Inside the windowless room was a desk cluttered with vials, syringes, and other surgical equipment. Over to the side Izzy saw a candle, its light dancing over a cobbled together altar. A few dead or dying flowers wilted at the feet of a photograph. Izzy moved closer and saw three smiling faces looking back at her from within the frame. The man was dark-skinned with a strong jaw and eyes that sparkled even from the faded picture. The woman had an arm around the man and had a dazzling smile inset into an effortlessly beautiful face. The young girl they were sandwiching was a perfect mix of her parents, with her father’s eyes, her mother’s smile and a nose wrinkling with a mischievous laughter. Izzy reached out to touch it, but then a hand wrapped around her wrist. It was covered in strips of cloth that wound up the arm and disappeared under a black hooded cloak that looked like it had been stitched together from different pieces of material.

  “Don’t touch that,” the voice from beneath the hood said.

  Izzy gave a little shriek and pulled away, her arm knocking the altar and the photograph over. The man caught it before it hit the ground and replaced it with reverential care. As he turned back to Izzy, she could feel his glare even though his face was shrouded in shadow.

  “Sorry, Doc,” said Damian, coming forward. “We didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “You didn’t,” Doc replied in a curt tone, “I followed you ever since you came in through the main entrance with all the subtlety of a stampeding elephant.”

  The way Doc spoke was in complete contrast to his appearance. He sounded like an old fashioned English butler, his tone dry and words clipped.

  Doc edged forward, head inclined, examining Damian’s face.

  “Where do I know you from, boy?”

  “My name’s Damian, I’m t—”

  “You’re the boy who took the delivery for the Scorps in exchange for the medicine for your mother,” Doc said interrupting him.

  At this Damian’s posture shifted and his face fell. Doc reached out a bandaged hand and placed it on his shoulder.

  “I warned you that it wouldn't save her. Nothing could at that point. I only hope that the medicine gave her some peace in her final days.”

  Damian nodded and took a minute to clear his throat and wipe something away from his eyes.

  “We need to get away,” Damian said finally. “We want to find Haven.”

  Doc took a half step back and crossed his arms. The movement seemed to cause him pain, but he held the pose, anyway. Underneath the hood his head turned to look from Damian to Izzy and then his hands disappeared beneath his cloak.

  “And who is this flower you’ve brought to my more than humble home?” Doc asked, nodding his head towards Izzy.

  “This is Izzy… my… girlfriend.”

  Izzy gave Damian a sideways look. It was the first time he’d ever referred to her as that, the first time they'd applied a label to their relationship. “Girlfriend” felt a little understated considering what they were both risking for each other. Doc took a step closer to Izzy, and she had to stifle a gag as she took in his musky aroma.

  Doc steepled his fingers and they could see the whites of his eyes in the darkness of the hood. He turned to Damian and his robes fluttered. The next thing Izzy knew, a short blade was pressed under the crook of her jaw.

  “Tell me then, oh girlfriend of Damian’s, why is it that a Sentech member is looking for Haven? And why I shouldn't just let you bleed out.”

  4

  Blood, Corruption And Fear

  “Are you familiar with the phrase, ‘go for the jugular’?” Doc asked. He angled the handle of the blade and Izzy shuddered as his face drew close. She saw scar tissue with almost no end. It pulled the man’s lips tight into a line and made his eyes look out of alignment.

  “The phrase is fundamentally incorrect,” Doc said, sounding more like a tired medical lecturer than a lunatic dressed in a costume. “Death comes quicker if you sever the carotid artery.”

  “Wait!” Damian said. He took a step forwards but stopped as Doc pushed the tip of the knife in deeper. A bead of claret formed under the blade and ran down the contour of Izzy’s neck.

  “I will ask you once,” Doc said. “Are you working for Lancaster? Are you trying to find Haven for him?”

  "No," said Izzy, the calmness of her voice surprising even herself.

  "Make me believe you," Doc growled.

  “Let her go!” said Damian.

  Doc turned to keep Izzy between them, and she heard him wince under his breath. She felt him use her to support his weight as he continued the rotation. Izzy slammed the heel of one of her once treasured shoes onto Doc’s foot. He screamed, and the blade clattered to the ground. Damian lunged forward and snatched it away as Doc hopped back cursing. His hood came free revealing the coarse pockmarks and swathes of red angry skin on his face. He scrabbled and pulled his hood back into place.

  “Look, we don’t want any trouble. We just need to get away,” Damian said. “We need to get somewhere the Scorps and the Enforcers can’t find us.”

  He flipped Doc’s knife in his hand and offered it back. Doc took it and the knife disappeared into his robes. He got to his feet and dusted off his cloak.

  “She’s one of them,” Doc said pointing an accusatory finger at Izzy. “She wears her entitlement like a crown. You can’t take her there. I won’t let you put them at risk.”

  “She’s not like that,” Damian pleaded, “She’s one of us.”

  “Look at her!” Doc shouted and gestured wildly. “Her hands haven’t seen a day’s work in her life.”

  He reached out and took Izzy’s hand turning it up to show her palm. Then he dropped her hand as if he’d been burned and backed away pointing.

  “She’s still wearing her TRIST?” he said. Doc slammed his palm into his forehead again and again then started to pace.

  “You know what you’ve done right?” he said. “You’ve signed our death warrants. Sentech will track that thing right here.”

  “No!” said Izzy. “No. they won’t. It’s linked to a remote unit at home. No one knows I’m here. On the Sentech systems it’ll look like I’ve been holed up in my room all night.”

  Doc looked up and pulled Izzy’s sleeve up to examine the device. After a moment of tinkering he seemed satisfied and released her.

  “You have thirty seconds to convince me.” Doc said.

  “Please. We just want—” Damian started to say, but Doc silenced him with a wave of his hand.

  “Not you. Her.” He said pointing at Izzy.

  Izzy looked from the Doc to Damian and then down to the floor. She kicked at a piece of gravel and fidgeted a bit. When she brought her head back up there was fire in her eyes.

  “I hate the Corporation,” She spat. “My father works for Sentech, I was born into the Corporation, my mother wasn’t. She was an NC, but they loved each other, once upon a time. My father pulled some strings, paid the right people to look the other way and we were happy for a time. When he got hurt and couldn't work, Sentech cut him off, lowered his Credits to less than we could live on. We lost everything and then all he had was his rage. Rage at me for not living up to his standards, rage at my mother for being an NC. He was angry at everyone apart from the Corporation that used us up and then threw us away like garbage. They didn't help him drag himself back to health. That was us! And after all that it's them he's loyal to. I want Sentech to burn, but I'll settle for just getting away from it."

  Izzy could feel Doc’s eyes watching her, weighing up her words. He stood unmoving for a while, then spun on his heels and walked away. Izzy looked at Damian and he gave her a slight shrug. Doc stopped in the doorway and
looked back over his shoulder.

  “Well?” he said. “Are you coming or not?”

  “You believe me?” Izzy asked.

  “Your eyes…” Doc said. “I can see how much you despise Sentech in your eyes.”

  “Wow,” said Damian as they followed Doc. “You got that from looking in her eyes?”

  “Yes,” said Doc. He pulled out a small device attached to a telescopic handle. With a few deft moves he pulled open a screen and scanned the readout.

  “It also helps that your pulse was steady, your blood pressure didn’t spike, your pupils remained dilated and the tone of your voice didn’t waiver,” Doc said. He rolled his eyes at Damian. “I believe in science, my boy, not conjecture. I scan anyone who wants to travel to Haven.”

  “So why bother with the knife to my throat? What if I’d failed the test?” Izzy asked.

  Doc turned back to face her and allowed his cloak to shift and reveal the handgun holster strapped to his side.

  “The knife was to see what kind of person you are under extreme pressure. Life in Haven isn’t easy. You need to be able to drop everything and be on the move in a split second.”

  They followed Doc down a series of corridors that descended deeper into the bowels of the building. The air was dank and filled with dust. Damian‘s hand found Izzy’s, and she felt reassuring strength in his grip. They came to a set of double doors made of thick metal and tempered glass. Doc’s bandaged hand danced across the keypad and put in the code. With a juddering wail the doors came to life and opened. Stepping out into a bay they saw a Medical Transport vehicle. Unlike Doc and everything else they had seen in his ramshackle place, it was immaculate, gleaming even in the low light. On its sides it had the Sentech insignias and flashing sirens at the front and back.

  “Where did you get a Medical Transport?“ asked Izzy as she patted the thick heavy duty tyres.

  “A remnant of a life long passed but not quite forgotten,” Doc said.

  With a fluid movement he twirled the end of the bandage on one arm and his hand came free. He pressed his palm to the side of the metal door and it lit up blue to the touch of his skin. A voice sounded from within the vehicle.

  “Access granted. Welcome back, Dr Fernando. “

  The doors clicked and slid open. Izzy and Damian stepped into the back of the Transport and doors whooshed shut behind them. Inside the vehicle it smelt of aniseed and bleach that made their sinuses burn.. Izzy gave a small cough and Damian gave her shoulder squeeze.

  “He’ll get us there,“ Damian said. “If anyone can get us past Sentech to Haven, it’s Doc. They rely on him getting medical supplies to them every week.”

  Izzy pressed her face against the tinted windows and watched as Doc stripped out of his cloak and gingerly eased himself into a Sentech medical uniform. Under the cloak Izzy could see that his whole torso was swathed in bandages. They were medicated, that she could tell by the colour and the odour that drifted their way, overpowering the smell inside the Transport. Doc tested the fit of the uniform, every movement slow and measured as it caused him pain. He glanced back at the Transport and Izzy pretended to busy herself with the contents of her bag. Doc’s gaze lingered on Izzy and Damian for a moment longer and when he was sure they weren’t looking he opened a storage unit and took out a blue canister. He attached the nozzle to the front and then sprayed the contents directly into his eye. From inside the Transport, Izzy watched with morbid curiosity as the man threw his head back and a wave of tension rippled through his body. After a moment he went slack and wiped away a sliver of spittle from his mouth.

  “He’s using Augs,” Izzy whispered to Damian. “Did you know?”

  “I’m not surprised, considering what he's been through,” Damian said. “At this stage I think everyone’s used an Aug or two, apart from us I guess.”

  “What’s his story?” Izzy asked Damian.

  Damian folded himself into seat next to Izzy. He leaned close and spoke under his breath.

  ”He used to work for Sentech as a Medic, “Damian said. “During a Scorp incursion, Sentech's regional head Clayton Lancaster was hurt, his wife was hurt worse. Apparently Doc tried to save here… but her injuries were too severe. And… well… you saw what they did to his face.”

  “What’s with the rags?“ Izzy asked.

  “When Sentech punish you, they punish your whole family. Lancaster made him watch them burn. The rags, their clothes, that’s all he has left of them.” He gave an involuntary shudder but then fell silent as the driver’s slid door open. Doc eased himself into the seat. He was wearing a uniform of dark blue and white, with a name stitched across the lapel. It read “Dr Richard Fernando Trauma Consultant”. When Doc turned back to regard them Izzy could see that he’d worn a surgical mask to cover his misshaped mouth and some kind of camouflage makeup covered the burns between his eyebrows and his hairline. His eyes were so bloodshot that they were almost completely red apart from a ring of white around his irises. The effect was chilling and Izzy had to look away.

  “I’ll take you to the camp,” Doc said and turned back to the front. “If you betray them, it'll be the last thing you ever do."

  * * *

  He didn’t wait for Izzy to respond. The Transport engine roared to life and then rolled out onto the street. As they moved through the half empty roads, it was deathly quiet in the vehicle, with only the sound of the hiss of the tyres against the asphalt to provide background noise. Damian had his face pressed up against the window and was staring at the enormous buildings and sea of neon that illuminated them.

  “I’ve never appreciated how spectacular the city is,” Damian said. “I’m usually so busy trying to stay under the radar that I’m not looking up at the sky.”

  “But it comes at a heavy price,” Izzy said. “It’s built with blood, corruption and fear.”

  There was a loud buzzing and Izzy looked through the tinted window to see where it was coming from. Then a squadron of surveillance drones zipped above them making Izzy’s stomach twist in a knot.

  “It’s fine,” Damian said, doing his best to sound confident. “They’ve got no reason to stop us…”

  The words died in Damian’s throat as the drones broke formation to flank the Transport. The insect-like lead drone spun around one hundred and eighty degrees in front of the vehicle and slowed down, forcing the Transport to do the same, until it finally came to a stop.

  “Stay still,” Doc said,

  They were bathed in an intense red light as the drones scanned them. Izzy felt her teeth tingle as the light passed over her and did her best to hide her TRIST behind her back. The hacker she’d gotten to disable the tracking function had said he’d make it invisible to Sentech, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Doc reached into a central compartment and came out with a leather wallet. He flipped it open, and the drones scanned it. Izzy peered at the picture of the man in the ID, dressed in Enforcer gear, who was most definitely not Doc. The drones killed the light and hovered in formation for a beat longer before zooming away.

  “That was close,” said Doc, tucking the ID away. “I’m not sure how many more times I’ll be able to use that.”

  * * *

  Doc turned to give his full attention to the roads which were starting to get busier. Other more modern Transports zipped by on anti-gravitational axles, their jets working hard to guide their path. Doc manoeuvred them off the main road and onto the side streets. The change outside their windows was as jarring as a heart attack. Majestic buildings with crowns of light were replaced with burnt out carcasses of structures long since abandoned.

  “You’re a long way from Kansas now, Dorothy,” Doc said with a touch of humour in his voice. He made a series of turns that left Izzy and Damian completely disorientated. Then working the brakes with brutal urgency he skidded the Transport to a halt.

  “The TRIST,” he said. “Remove it.”

  “If I do that, it’ll notify the closest Enforcer base that I’ve gone off grid and
they’ll send a unit.”

  “You have to remove it sometime.” Damian ventured.

  “I can drop you off here and you can just go back to your cushy Corporation life then…” Doc suggested.

  Izzy gave him a brittle smile and reached under the unit for the clasp. With a series of clicks the gauntlet that housed the mounted AI computer came free. Instantly the screen flashed red as if it was angry at being removed.

  “Warning! Warning! Host DNA not detected. You have thirty seconds to enter override code,” the TRIST barked.

  “Allow me,” said Doc. He took the TRIST with an outstretched hand and set it down on the floor. A hammer materialised in his grip and he lay into the device with manic glee. Glass showered the floor and circuits cried sparks as the TRIST died.

  “Ah,” said Doc stooping to pick up the remnants in a pincer grip. “That never gets old.”

  He extended his arm out of the Transport window and let the broken TRIST fall to the ground outside.

  Before Izzy could say anything he was back in his seat. With a jerk of the wheel the Transport darted down an alley, its thick tyres putting the final nail in the coffin as they ground the TRIST to dust under their weight.

  “That’s it,” Izzy said in a quiet voice that only Damian could hear. “There’s no way he’s finding me now.”

  “Your Dad couldn’t understand, he never would have let us be,” Damian said.

  Izzy was about to reply, but she caught a glimpse of the view out of the windshield. They were closing in on an imposing brick wall that showed no inclination to move and their driver didn't seem the least bit concerned.

  “Doc!” she screamed.

  5

  Horrific Tableau

  Damian looked up and let out a terrified yelp. He got to his feet and stumbled forward, trying to get to Doc, but it was too late, the Transport was instants away from colliding with the wall. Damian threw himself on Izzy, trying his best to shield her from the impact with his body, bracing himself for the boom of rending metal and the smashing of glass. It never came. They glanced up from their huddle to see the Transport zooming on, following a path that led down, underneath the ground level.