"Don't take too long, Gizmo. I've only got three minutes of air left."
"Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
"Okay, start the sequence."
Mia hit the button on the inside of the airlock. The outer door closed, and the pressure began to build. She stood with her back to the side wall, keeping as low a profile as possible, and readied her weapon by dialing down the power. This way she was less likely to damage any of the electronics inside.
The inner door slid opened, and a hail of plasma fire came whizzing in. Most of it missed Mia; it just dissipated harmlessly off the outer door. One shot did glance off her left thigh, but the rugged EVA suit took most of the sting out of it.
The firing paused, and she chanced a quick glance to get oriented. Baptiste had positioned himself behind a stack of equipment and had just been distracted by the side airlock door opening. Mia took her chance and fired. She hit him directly in the chest. He screamed and clawed at his throat as he dropped to the ground.
Mia flipped her visor opened, took a deep breath, and slowly moved into the rover's interior. "Gizmo, where's Orban?"
"In the forward cabin." The droid pointed to a door below the cockpit companionway. "He has still not moved."
"I'll go check on him. You keep an eye on Baptiste...and find that encryption key." Mia unclipped her helmet and placed it on a shelf. She considered taking the bulky suit off, as it seriously restricted her movements in the close confines of the rover interior, but decided to check on Orban first.
The cabin was a private space, with two bunks against the outer shell of the rover. In the lower bunk, the Montecristo head of security lay flat on his back, eyes closed. Mia checked his pulse. He was still alive, breathing steadily. Around his upper body and neck he had the telltale scorch marks of a close-range plasma blast. She had no way to tell how long he had been out, or how soon he would come to. It could be any moment; his breathing and heartbeat were strong.
"Gizmo, I need something to tie this guy up," Mia called out through the cabin door. "I think he's going to come around pretty soon."
"We have a problem," came the reply.
Mia stood up and came back out of the cabin. "What problem?"
"You know that dish antenna I ripped off the roof?"
"Yeah."
"We need it to transmit the signal back to Syrtis."
"Well, that's just great. Why didn't you think of that before you started tearing the rover apart?"
"Eh...it seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Can you put it back?"
"Yes, I can. But it will take a bit of time."
"Well you better get to it. There are a lot of people's lives at stake here."
The droid was already entering the side airlock. "On it."
Mia sighed. Goddammit, she thought. Just when everything was under control, now this. She sighed again and decided she’d finally had enough of the bulky EVA suit. Time to get out of it.
She put her newly acquired high-tech plasma weapon down and spent the next few minutes extracting herself from the suit's restrictive confines. It felt good to be rid of it. And with renewed vigor, she went in search of something to use to tie up Orban and Baptiste.
She found plenty of wire attached to the equipment in the rover, but it was all in use, and she didn't want to rip anything out in case it was vital for comms, particularly after what Gizmo had just done.
This is ridiculous, she thought. There has to be something I can use.
She started up the companionway steps into the cockpit; maybe she’d find something up there. It didn't take her long. Stacked in one of the cockpit lockers was a neat assortment of ratchet straps. "Perfect," she said to herself as she grabbed a bunch.
She heard the side airlock door opening. "Gizmo, you fix that antenna?"
But the response that came back was the sound of a plasma weapon being fired—at full power.
Mia spun around, all senses on high alert. She reached for her pistol, only to remember that she had given it to Gizmo, and the other one she had left down in the main cabin beside the discarded EVA suit. "Shit."
Very slowly and carefully, she moved to the companionway steps and peered into the cabin. "Gizmo?"
No reply.
She started down the steps and saw a fully conscious Vance Baptiste holding her high-tech plasma weapon, which was still aimed at the side airlock door. She faltered on the step, and he swung the weapon around at her.
"Ahh...Agent Mia Sorelli." He jiggled the weapon. "Looking for this?"
"Where's Gizmo?"
Baptiste jerked his head at the airlock. "Your droid is no more."
Mia took a tentative step down so she could look into the airlock. The inner door was open, and inside she could see an immobile Gizmo, a dark-gray scorch mark radiating from a blackened crater in its breastplate. "Gizmo...no."
Baptiste pulled out a smaller plasma pistol and threw the high-tech weapon down. "No more left in that. I used all its power putting a hole in your droid." He advanced toward her. "And you. You're a total pain in the ass as well as a complete moron." With a free hand, he unzipped the front of his jacket and patted the thick layer of armor underneath. "The latest in plasma blast insulation. Did you seriously think I would enter into a goddamn war zone without some personal protection?"
Mia backed up the steps, and Baptiste cautiously followed. She moved all the way into the cockpit as he began to ascend the steps. "You're a persistent bitch, I'll give you that. But now it's time to die."
Mia flung the ratchet straps at him. It was a futile gesture, a last gasp. He fired, but his aim was off. Nonetheless, the shot grazed her left shoulder. Not enough to put her out, but enough for searing pain to radiate out from the contact point.
She yelled out in pain and grabbed her arm as the numbness started to spread along her neck and arm. "Screw you," was the best she could manage as she slumped to the floor.
Baptiste, seeing his prey down and in no condition to fight back, relaxed a little and came fully into the cockpit. He stood over her and took a moment to adjust the plasma weapon. "I think I'll dial this all the way up to certain death. Why waste time trying to kill you with multiple shots? While it would be much more entertaining, I'm a bit pressed for time."
He carefully aimed the weapon at her head. "Goodbye, Major Sorelli."
Mia held her breath, closed her eyes, and waited for the end to come.
She heard the shot, smelled the tang of ozone—but felt nothing. She opened one eye and looked at Baptiste. His face bore a look of surprise, then his eyes rolled back inside his head and he dropped to his knees.
Standing behind him, plasma pistol in hand, was Orban Dent, his eyes fixed on Baptiste. He ignored Mia as he advanced, kicking Baptiste over so he lay flat on his back, and shot him in the head. Baptiste’s face briefly erupted in flames, and the stench was almost overpowering.
"Bastard," said Orban, more to himself than to Mia. It was only then that he looked at her. "It's okay, I'm done killing for today." He stashed the pistol in the waistband of his trousers.
Mia shifted her position and looked up at him. "You two have a lover's tiff?"
Orban laughed. "Ha, not quite. He's simply a homicidal maniac. He deserved to die."
"Like Agent Frazer? Did he deserve to die, too?"
"What?" Orban looked a little confused, then his face brightened. "Ah...you think I killed him?"
"You more or less admitted it, last time we met."
He shook his head. "No, I didn't kill him. I was just trying to scare you off the investigation, make you think twice about continuing."
"So, who killed him?"
Orban seemed distracted, like he had no interest in all these stupid questions. He glanced around the cockpit, then back at Mia. He looked at her for a moment, considering something. "Would it surprise you to know that no one killed him? If anything, he killed himself."
"Bullshit."
"I don't mean he comm
itted suicide. It was more just...neglect." Orban rested his back against the side wall of the cockpit and rubbed his chest. "You see," he continued, "I knew him reasonably well, me being the head of security for Montecristo Industries, him being an agent for MLOD. But his problem was obsessiveness. He would get so wrapped up in all his conspiracy theories that he neglected every other part of his life. He had no relationships worth talking about, he was barely able to feed himself, and of course he never did any maintenance on his accommodation module. And, in the end, it killed him."
Mia stayed silent for a beat, not sure if Orban was spinning her a pack of lies.
"But this is wasting time." He waved a hand, spun around, and started down the companionway steps.
"What about all those people in Syrtis?" Mia shouted after him. "Do they deserve to die, too?"
"They don't," he shouted back. "That's why we have to stop it."
Mia dragged herself up from the floor. Her left side was numb, she couldn’t move her arm, and her left leg had minimal mobility. Nevertheless, she utilized those parts of her that still functioned to shuffle her way down into the main cabin of the rover.
Orban looked up from a console and waved the encryption key at her. "Well, here goes. Let's hope that droid of yours fixed the antenna."
Mia moved over and glanced at the screen. It displayed a scrolling list of text that she had difficulty deciphering. But one thing she did understand was the word deactivated flashing up after every block of code.
Orban looked up at her and nodded. "Looks like it worked."
Mia slumped down again on the floor. "Thank god for that."
They sat in silence for a moment before Mia finally spoke. "What I don't understand is, if you hated Baptiste so much, why wait so long to get rid of him?"
Orban stood up and moved over to the rear airlock. "Well, I'm no saint. In fact, I'm a complete bastard, really. But killing hundreds of people out of pure spite? That's simply not right. I couldn't let that happen." He opened a door to a large locker containing a rack of sleek EVA suits.
"Actually, it was Agent Frazer who planted the seed in my mind. He was always going on about some wild conspiracy theory or another, but he was right about siphoning off the components, and how that was indirectly killing people. I would argue it with him for hours, but it got me thinking. And for the first time ever I began to have my doubts...you know, about what Montecristo were doing." By now he had put on one of the EVA suits and was lifting down a helmet from the rack. "It probably would have stayed there, you know...just doubts. I might not have done anything about it if not for Baptiste's insanity. I had to stop him." He clipped on the helmet.
"Anyway, it's time for me to go. They’ll be out from Syrtis soon, so I think you'll be okay until they get here. As for me, well, there's a shuttle waiting for me, and I'm going to take it." He held up the encryption key for her to see. "Now that I've got the keys to the house, I think I might just steal Baptiste's orbital. I don't think he'll mind." He stepped into the rear airlock. "By the way, if you're ever looking for a change of scenery, they could use someone with your skills in private security. Good money, ten times what they pay you in the MLOD. Lots of work out in the asteroid belt and the new colonies. Things are growing fast out there."
Mia gave a faint smile. "Thanks, but I'm good."
"Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me."
"And where do I find you?"
He gave her a wry smile. "You’re a detective. I'm sure you can figure it out. Anyway, gotta go. Maybe I'll see you around sometime." He gave her a brief salute, flipped down his visor, and closed the door.
22
Aftermath
Bright sunlight filtered down through the museum's domed roof and onto the rows of artifacts from the colony's past. The place was busy with tourists taking in the history and the general ambiance. But for Mia, there was only one artifact she had come here to visit. As she approached, she could see a young couple standing in front of the exhibit, discussing it.
"It looks so old and battered."
"Sure does. It's hard to believe they had to rely on such ancient technology."
"I think it looks cute. And I'm sure if it was working it would have some wonderful stories to tell."
"I doubt it. It's just an old maintenance droid."
"It says here that it played a pivotal role in the survival of the colony."
"Well, I suppose that's what maintenance droids do. Hey look, over there. It's one of the early landers. Come on, let's go check it out."
They moved off.
Mia walked up to the exhibit and stood looking at it for a moment. "Well Gizmo, I came to say goodbye. I'm leaving soon, and well, I couldn't go without one last farewell."
"Mia!"
She looked around to see Bret walking toward her, waving a friendly hand.
"I've been looking everywhere for you."
"Well, now you've found me."
"I'll be bringing you out to the spaceport. The rover is ready and waiting for you. I've been designated your official driver."
"Okay, thanks."
He looked over at the droid. "I see they cleaned it up, got rid of the blast marks. You know, I always wondered why you never insisted on getting it fixed and brought back online."
"I had considered it, but the fallout from the Montecristo incident just became too much. Everything became a council issue. Everything was focused on rebuilding, and lots of politics surrounding the fair redistribution of all the components they found out in the Leighton waystation."
"Yeah, I guess so. Your new friend Lloyd did very well out of the whole thing, what with getting all those new contracts."
"Well, he earned it, I suppose."
"Say, I heard the investigation into Chief Becker’s role in the whole affair is due to conclude soon. Looks like he might escape sanction."
"So I heard. But he won't be part of the MLOD anymore."
"Still, I thought they would nail him good and proper."
"Ah...you know what these things are like, Bret. Once the storm started to clear, everyone's mood changed. I think people started to see it all as a bad dream, something they wanted to forget. I mean, look—all the tourists are back. It's like it never happened."
"Yeah." He looked at the droid again. "And Gizmo is back where it all started."
Mia looked back at Gizmo again for a moment. "I really did want to get it back online, but then I thought, what for? Would it just end up being some celebrity droid, a kind of court jester to wheel out every so often and do tricks for the audience?"
"True." Bret nodded.
"And when everybody got bored, as they do, what would happen to Gizmo then? So, in the end, I reluctantly agreed with the council. This is the best place for it. After all, it is a national treasure. And, well, technically I did break the law in reanimating it the first time."
They stood in silence for a beat before Bret spoke again.
"So, you're really going back to Earth?"
"Yeah. They've offered me a diplomatic number. I get to swan around and do pretty much do nothing."
"You think you'll ever come back?"
Mia just shrugged.
Bret checked the time. "We better go. Don't want to miss the takeoff, or you'll be stuck here for another month."
Mia glanced back at the droid one last time and gave it a salute. "So long, Gizmo. Who knows, maybe we'll have another adventure someday."
THE END
I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it for you. If you did, then please leave me a review. Just a simple ‘liked it’ would be great, it helps a lot.
Gizmo Origin
A Short Story
1
Biodome
Nills Langthorp, sole survivor of the first human colony on Mars, sat down in the central dais of the great biodome and started doing the math. After some time juggling figures, rearranging priorities, and considering his options, he realized tha
t he was going to die -- not today, not tomorrow, but soon.
He gently lowered the slate he was using to analyze his dire situation onto the stone floor, sat back in his chair, and ran his hands over his long, matted hair. Maybe he should stop fighting it and accept his fate, do what Bess did. Just walk out of the airlock, find a nice spot to sit and gaze at the landscape, and wait for the oxygen to run out. It was an option. Yet it was not one he considered with any seriousness, and not because he had a burning desire to live. No, it was simply because he had a visceral fear of venturing outside the colony.
It had started shortly after Bess disappeared. He had been outside searching for her and doing his best to avoid any possibility of being spotted by the satellites he knew must be overhead watching, seeking out any signs of life in the dead colony. A strange, abnormal fear began welling up from deep within him, and it was all he could do to get back inside without succumbing to sheer panic.
He had tried leaving the safety of the colony a few more times, but each time the fear intensified. His last attempt was over two years ago, and since then he had never ventured out again. He knew it was irrational. Yet that didn't make the feeling any less real.
The droid came into view, disturbing his thoughts as it traversed the edge of the stone dais, pushing a handcart full of recently composted soil. Nills was constructing a new grow bed in which he planned to plant a variety of fruit bushes. He had been using the highly efficient hydroponic system to nurture them from seed, and could leave them there and let them develop into maturity. But while the hydroponics were certainly efficient, Nills felt the process lacked a certain... artisanal beauty. And so, over time, he had dismantled a good deal of it and instead used that space to cultivate a more natural garden. He glanced around at the fruits of his labors. The vast biodome now looked less like a food factory and more like a market garden, most of which radiated out from an ornamental tropical forest that he had created around the central stone dais with its waterfall and pond.
Colony Mars Ultimate Edition Page 85
