Deadland Drifter: A Scifi Thriller

by J. N. Chaney

  He would assume that whoever had kidnapped him would want to keep a set of eyes on him after he woke up to see how he reacted. Yet Burner couldn’t detect anyone following him, or really paying much attention to him at all. To be sure he performed some textbook counter-surveillance maneuvers, circling the street the Dentist’s office was on several times, making sudden turns down less busy streets, stopping in front of several shop windows, pretending to be interested in the store, to get a look behind him. He concluded that he wasn’t currently being followed.

  With that strange thought in his head, he finally took the straight path back to the dentist’s office. By the time he opened its front doors, his mild headache had developed into a splitting one, and the bright artificial lights inside did not help matters any. It felt like he had spent a night at a cheap dive bar getting plastered before passing out next to the toilet.

  He needed caffeine. That was the ticket to recovery. He made his way to the courtesy pot and poured himself a cup. It was old, stale, and lukewarm, but Burner still downed it like it was the secret to youth. Almost immediately, he began to feel better. The pain was still there, both in his head and in his tooth, but now he had the energy to block those out and focus.

  The office was nearly empty, as you might expect near closing hours. A janitor lazily pushed a broom through the waiting room, barely looking up at Burner as he passed, while the receptionist busied herself with several open screens on her desk. She was so engrossed in tapping away at whatever was on them that she didn’t seem to notice Burner’s presence. Otherwise, the front of the office was empty.

  It didn’t look like the kind of place that would have been the front for a kidnapping. There was a kind of age to all the furniture—wear in the seats, stains on the tables—that told him this office had been around for a while and hadn’t just been put together overnight for the sake of capturing Burner. The screen in the waiting room still played, right now in the middle of a reality show where a camera crew followed a so-called renegade on his barely legal missions. Burner had seen a few episodes when he was particularly bored, and he had come to the conclusion that half of it was staged and the other half was the kind of stuff an actual renegade wouldn’t waste their time with. At least not the ones Burner had encountered during his career.

  He took a look past the receptionist’s desk toward the hall lined with examination and dental operating rooms. The lights in the hall were out and all the doors were sealed shut without a hint of light peeking out from underneath them. The practice had already seen its last patients for the day, and it seemed unlikely that Dr. Suffolk was still around.

  Burner approached the receptionist’s desk and tapped on it to get Melinda’s attention.

  “Sorry the office is closed for the day, but if you’d like to make an appointment you can call—” She froze when she saw him. “Mr. Lian, hello again. The doctor isn’t here right now, is there something I can help with?”

  He rested his elbows on the desk and leaned in close, a gesture that could be intimate or intimidating depending on where you stood. “Does he usually leave you alone to close up?”

  She made a point to avoid looking him in the eye. “No, usually he’s the last one out. He must have had something pressing today, because he took off without saying a word. I didn’t even see him leave.”

  Burner backtracked through his mind to when he was being led down that hall to the room where he would be drugged. He had seen only one exit there, an emergency door, not the way you’d normally leave your office, even if you were in a rush. Perhaps he didn’t want to be seen leaving. Perhaps he took the emergency exit.

  Or more likely, whoever had taken him had not wanted to be seen leaving. Burner remembered the doctor arguing with someone in those moments before he had lost consciousness. It must have been one of the kidnappers, and that meant the doctor had seen at least one of their faces.

  And that made him a liability—ergo, he was in great danger, if he wasn’t already dead.

  Yet the receptionist had been left. Her nerves this morning suggested that she was at least vaguely aware that something was going on, though that might have just been a response to her boss’s behavior. Burner had seen it before, assistants and secretaries of people committing crimes who are suspicious of their employer’s behavior but choose not to ask any questions. They pretend to be blindsided when allegations come out, but their faces give away that it was simply the confirmation of their suspicions.

  If Dr. Suffolk had been acting nervous all day about an appointment with Frank Lian, seeming flustered while asking for constant reminders of the time, she might have been mirroring her employer’s nerves. Who knew what she thought was happening. A drug deal, perhaps? Or maybe a malpractice extortion?

  Either way, the kidnappers must have decided that she knew little enough that she wasn’t worth taking. Or little enough to take the risk and have her keep the practice running, which would avoid generating unnecessary suspicion. But perhaps she could tell Burner something about the dentist. The kidnappers had to have something on him to get him to cooperate. If they had relied solely on threats, he might have gone to Security and spoiled the whole thing. If Burner could figure out what leverage they had held over the doctor, he could be pointed in the right direction to find his captors.

  Burner pulled back to a more comfortable distance and leaned casually on the desk, acting like he was taking in the office for the first time. “This is a nice setup, for what’s practically in the middle of the Deadlands, anyway. How long has Dr. Suffolk practiced here?”

  Melinda relaxed, the conversation now going down a more familiar route. “Fourteen years. It’s his practice. Not a lot of qualified practitioners out here, even on the surface where people are more well-off. Too expensive to ship in supplies. The doctor figured the lack of competition would serve him, and he was right. We’re pretty much always booked solid.”

  Booked solid but they had managed to squeeze Burner in at a moment’s notice, he noted. “And how long have you worked here?”

  She thought for a moment. “Almost four years now.”

  “So you’d notice if there was something unusual going on, like if the doctor was acting strangely?”

  Her lips pressed together. “Why?”

  Burner raised his arms defensively. “His behavior this morning just struck me as odd, that’s all. I was actually a bit concerned about it. Didn’t know if he was even going to be able to hold that drill steady. I was curious if he’s always like that, or if he was just having an off day.”

  Melinda’s eyes narrowed distrustfully. “Dr. Suffolk is one of the best. He trained in one of the top schools in the Union, you know? Whatever you thought you saw this morning, I assure you, would not affect his ability to do his job.”

  The ache in Burner’s tooth pulsed as if to argue that point. “Maybe someone should check on him anyway, just to make sure he’s okay. Where does he live?”

  She folded her arms in front of her. “Sorry, we don’t give out the doctor’s home address to patients. I’m sure he’ll be back for office hours tomorrow morning. If you’re really so concerned, you can check on him then.”

  Burner knew that if he pushed his luck, there was a risk she would call Security. “You’re probably right. I may do that. Oh, one last thing before I go. I nearly forgot, the whole reason I came back in here in the first place. I think I left something in the operating room. A little digital drive. Must have fallen out of my pocket. It’s got some important information I need for work tonight, so I was really hoping it might have turned up.”

  Without taking her eyes off him, the receptionist reached under her desk and pulled out a small box. Lost and Found. She poked around the few items inside it. “Nothing that resembles a drive has been brought to me.”

  He did his best to look distressed at the news. “It’s really important. Think I can get a look real quick back in the treatment room?”

  Her frown showed what she thought about
trusting this suspicious stranger to wander around one of their back rooms. “I’ll go take a look. You wait here.”

  She hit a button on one of her screens and they all locked up with whatever she had been working on turning to a security message. She got up and walked briskly down the hall.

  It was the reaction Burner had been hoping for. He glanced around quickly to make sure the janitor wasn’t around, before darting over to the other side of the desk.

  The receptionist’s screens were locked with a simple biometric sensor. In theory, the only way to unlock it would be with her fingerprint, but these things were never as secure as they were advertised to be. Her fingerprints were all over every surface on the desk. He took a piece of tape and carefully lifted a print from her coffee cup, then he pressed the tape against the scanner, pushing his own finger against the back so his body heat would activate it. The security message flashed twice before the screens returned to their previous state.

  Melinda had been in the process of sorting through mail, organizing all the office’s correspondence into separate folders for patients, suppliers, employees, and personal mail. Burner quickly scanned a list of the most recent messages, looking for anything that stood out as unusual, but none of the headings caught his attention. With the receptionist’s timing uncertain, he didn’t have time to read every one.

  Instead he quickly opened the first bill he could find, from a supplier named J. Goer’s Dental Surplus. At the top of the bill were three addresses: a shipping address for the supplies, which was this office, an address for the supplier where payments were due, and a billing address under the name Dr. Alan Suffolk. His home address.

  Burner memorized the street name and number and switched the screen back to locked mode. He had just returned to the other side of the desk when the receptionist came back. “Sorry, I didn’t find anything. It’s not here.”

  He pretended to be distraught by the news. “Oh, man, I’m going to be in so much trouble with my boss. I wonder where it could have gone. Well, thanks for looking.”

  With the receptionist casting a suspicious look at his back, Burner made his way out of the office and back into the late day sun. It was just beginning to set, giving the world an orangish cast. An entire day gone.

  When he had set out this morning, the day ahead of him had seemed so simple. Go to a dentist’s appointment, get a filling, drink some coffee, and catch up on the latest news in the area. Now he was tracking down leads on an assassination conspiracy that he had been chosen to be the triggerman for.

  If he had been a more rational man, maybe he would have left it alone. There were few people who had the skills to disappear the way he did. Within twenty-four hours, he could be off planet with a new identity, a new look, and a new destination far from Union space. He wasn’t Union Intelligence anymore; it wasn’t his job to put a stop to conspiracies and foil assassination plots. There was no obligation to pursue this matter one moment longer. Even the threat from the faceless abductor didn’t worry him much.

  And yet he knew he had no choice but to do just that. Curiosity, anger, and pride formed a dangerous combination within him that wouldn’t allow him to back down. His kidnappers would learn they had picked the wrong appointment to crash.

  He walked around the side of Tooth-30 Dentistry until he reached the emergency exit. The door was sealed closed and there was no noticeable damage to the doorjamb or hinges. That meant the alarm must have been disabled beforehand, perhaps by the dentist himself. Did he expect to leave with Burner’s captors, or had he been planning an escape?

  Burn marks on the pavement near the door had a pattern that Burner was familiar with. A vehicle had hovered here for a while, before suddenly kicking its engines in and taking off at high speed. It seemed less likely that the dentist had entered the vehicle voluntarily. Burner took a picture with his handset. Sometimes the pattern left by one vehicle’s engine was unique enough to identify it.

  He continued along the path behind the office until he found a parking pad shared by the businesses that populated this street. This late in the day most of the owners and employees of these businesses had already closed up shop and gone home, so only a couple of vehicles were currently in the spaces. One was an old clunker, and while just owning a vehicle as opposed to using public transportation was reserved for those with money, the success of the dental practice gave Burner the impression that Dr. Suffolk could afford something a bit better.

  The other was a newer model, not of any of the luxury brands but a decently regarded consumer model. That was more in the doctor’s price range.

  Hopefully, Dr. Suffolk didn’t mind him borrowing his vehicle for a little while. Considering he had drugged him and handed him over to kidnappers, it was the least he could do.

  The lock, like all the other systems in the vehicle, was fully electronic. Burner hit a few buttons on his handset and pressed it up against the vehicle’s door. The cracking program went to work identifying the vehicle’s unique ID and running that through the security algorithm for that specific model.

  Within fifteen seconds, there was a click that let him know that the door was open. He popped into the driver’s seat and used the handset again to start the engine. The handset had already saved this vehicle’s key, so it started up instantly.

  As the engine kicked into gear and the small civilian craft began to rise from the ground, Burner put the address he had memorized for Dr. Suffolk into the navigation panel. A prompt asked him if he wanted the autopilot to take him there and he accepted. He could use the spare moments to think.

  The vehicle pulled away from the parking pad just as the last vestiges of daylight clipped the horizon and night claimed the surface of the planet. Somewhere in the lower levels, where the sun never reached, there was a room that was always as black as night. A room where Burner had been kept so some unknown group could make demands of him.

  And he would make them pay for that.

  5

  Suffolk Residence, Zanpus C145, the Deadlands

  Burner deactivated the autopilot as he neared Dr. Suffolk’s residence. The last thing he needed right now was for someone who recognized the vehicle to think he had stolen it and to bring Security down on him. He’d have a tough time explaining to Security that, yes, he had stolen it, but he was totally justified because he was tracking mysterious kidnappers and Dr. Suffolk might be dead already anyway.

  He found a parking pad a few blocks away from the house and gently set the vehicle down. Just because it wasn’t his was no reason to be rough with it.

  The trick to blending in depended on the location. For big urban areas it meant walking with purpose, eyes ahead, and a hurried stride like you had an important place to be. For slums and low-level ghettos, you wanted to keep your head down, keep your arms tucked in tight, and avoid eye contact with anyone else. In a suburban setting like the one Burner currently found himself in, the best tactic was to walk at a casual pace, unhurried, like you belonged and were just out for a casual stroll.

  So despite the sense of urgency currently pressing Burner to get to Dr. Suffolk’s and find some answers, he forced himself to keep an easy pace the few blocks toward the address. At this time of night, the locals were likely to be suspicious of any strangers walking down their street, so it was important that he not seem out of place.

  He finally arrived at Dr. Suffolk’s, a modest sized dwelling crammed between two other similarly sized dwellings on a street filled with middle class residences. The whole neighborhood looked like someone had drawn the concept of what the most basic house should look like then used a copy and paste function to duplicate it in straight rows several dozen times. The only way to tell them apart, besides the occasional window décor, was by the numbers printed on the side of each door.

  Burner took the two steps up to the front door and knocked. He didn’t know whether Dr. Suffolk lived alone or with family. If no one answered the door, he knew ways to break in that shouldn’t attract the attenti
on of any nosy neighbors.

  A light came on at the front of the house, and a moment later the door opened. An older woman, perhaps a few years younger than the doctor but with hair just as silver, stood framed in the doorway. She adjusted her thick spectacles to get a better look at her visitor. “Can I help you?”

  Burner put on his most disarming smile. Not too wide or forceful, which gives you the impression of a salesman or, in some cases, a mugger. Not too bright like you’re laughing at a joke they are not privy to, possibly at their expense. It’s a casual smile, a smile that says “I’m happy to see you,” without making any assertions as to why. “Yeah, sorry to bother you so late. Is Alan home?”

  She blinked a few times like she needed a moment to understand the question. “Oh, no, he’s not here right now. Sometimes he works late. I’m his wife, I can take a message for you.”

  He dismissed the notion with a casual wave. “No, it’s not a big deal. I just got in from off-planet and thought I’d look him up. I’d have done it at a more reasonable time, but I’ll only be in the city for a few hours tonight. I’ll be back in a couple weeks, I’ll come check up then. Hey, just curious, Mrs. Suffolk, do you know who I am?”

  Mrs. Suffolk shook her head. “No, should I?”

  Burner gave a light chuckle. “Oh, no, I guess not. I was just wondering if Alan had ever mentioned ol’ Frank Lian to you. We go back a ways.”

  The woman gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, he hasn’t mentioned you. But he rarely talks about his old friends, so you shouldn’t be offended.”