Paradox Slaughter: A Roak: Galactic Bounty Hunter Novel

by Jake Bible

  “I have a feeling,” Hessa stated after a long pause.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry, but what did she say?” Yellow Eyes asked. “Did she say she has a feeling? Hessa, you have been very polite and kind to me, so I apologize for what I’m about to say, but, uh, you’re an AI. AIs don’t have feelings.”

  “Hessa’s different,” Roak said.

  “No shit, man, but she’s still an AI,” Yellow Eyes said. “AIs don’t have feelings or instincts or guts where those feelings and instincts live.”

  “You think instincts live in your guts?” Hessa asked. “You do know that is only a saying?”

  “You’re getting schooled on sayings by an AI,” Roak said to Yellow Eyes. “Quit while you’re behind.”

  “Hey, man, I’m just trying to be a voice of reason here,” Yellow Eyes said then muttered, “Because you nutjobs could use some reason.”

  “What’s the feeling?” Roak asked.

  “It’s all a trap,” Hessa said. “That the Tanji Corporation knew you’d track down Mr. Wrenn.”

  “They thought the guy would be dead,” Roak said.

  “Did they? Because you thought he was already dead and there he was,” Hessa said. “Whether alive or dead, I think the Tanji Corporation expects you to figure out they are the power behind the Shilo Syndicate’s resurrection.”

  “If this is a trap, then why go?” Yellow Eyes asked. “Avoiding a trap is good. Walking into a trap on purpose is bad.”

  “Not planning on walking into any traps,” Roak said.

  “So we aren’t going to Ballyway?” Yellow Eyes asked.

  “No, we’re going,” Roak replied. “But we’ll do it Hessa’s way.”

  He pointed at Yellow Eyes.

  “What?” Yellow Eyes asked.

  “That means you’re staying on the ship while I hunt down this Maga Zxixwell,” Roak said. “You stick out. I can blend in when I need to. You can’t.”

  “I don’t have to set these feets down on Ballyway at all?” Yellow Eyes asked as he wiggled his toe nubs at Roak.

  “No. You’ll stay here,” Roak said.

  Yellow Eyes smiled and laced his hands behind his head as he leaned back in his seat. “Fine by me, man. Great plan. You two sure know how to strategize.”

  “Speaking of,” Roak said and stood up. “How close are we to the wormhole portal?”

  “We are entering it within the minute,” Hessa said.

  Roak sat back down. Once the ship entered trans-space, and his body adjusted to the transition, he got up and walked to the bridge doors.

  “Where ya going?” Yellow Eyes asked.

  “To think,” Roak said and jabbed a finger at Yellow Eyes. “You stay here.”

  “I was thinking of getting some food,” Yellow Eyes said. “A bit peckish after burning all that energy on the asteroid.”

  “Nope,” Roak said. “I’m going to the mess. Hessa will have a bot bring some food up to you.”

  “I will?” Hessa asked.

  “You will,” Roak replied.

  He left the bridge before either of them could argue. Although, Hessa could argue over the comm if she wanted, but she refrained.

  Roak took the lift down to the mess level, his mind going a million light years a minute. He tried to scratch an itch on his left shoulder blade and realized he was still wearing his power armor. Roak directed the lift to go down to the cargo hold instead of the mess.

  The lift stopped and Roak exited, already stripping his armor from his weary body. He hung it on the cargo hold wall, made sure it was secure, ordered a bot to fix the faceplate, the arm, and pull the metal shards out, and walked back to the lift. Then a thought struck him. He paused, halfway in the lift and halfway out.

  “Roak? Are you alright?” Hessa asked over the comm.

  “Yes,” Roak said.

  “Are you going to use that lift or stand there until we reach Ballyway?” Hessa asked.

  Roak entered the lift, but held it there instead of directing it to the mess level.

  “I am going to ask again,” Hessa said. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m strategizing,” Roak said. “I have an idea.”

  “It will not be a popular idea, will it?”

  “No.”

  “Care to fill me in?”

  “I’m still thinking it over.”

  Roak pressed the keys on the control interface and sent the lift to the mess level.

  “If you would like, I could help you—”

  “Let me think, Hessa,” Roak snapped.

  The comm went silent.

  Roak was sore and stank horribly from fighting inside the power armor, but he wasn’t ready for a steam. The lift slowed and stopped at the mess level and Roak got off. He walked into the mess, automatically ordered a large mug of caff and a plate of protein strips with carb mash on the side. With food and drink in hand, Roak sat down at the nearest table and began to eat without really paying attention to the food.

  He was lost in thought. His hands performed the automatic motions of lifting the fork, putting the fork in his mouth, going back for more food, repeat; lifting the mug of caff, putting the mug to his lips, setting the mug down, repeat.

  Roak’s eyes focused on nothing. There could have been an enraged B’flo’do in front of him and he wouldn’t have noticed. He was calculating the pros, the cons, the reasons why, and the reasons why not.

  “Hessa? Can you get me a meeting with this Zxixwell?” Roak asked.

  “Now you need my help?” Hessa responded.

  “Hessa…”

  “I can create an identity for you and possibly get you a meeting with her,” Hessa said. “But it will not be easy. The woman is on vacation and I have already tried to get more information, but the Tanji Corporation’s mainframe is quite secure. The best way to get a meeting would be through one of your contacts on Ballyway.”

  “They’ll all be burned after the last visit,” Roak said. “Even the ones I sort of trust. I’m toxic.”

  “Are you? Huh. Didn’t know,” Hessa said.

  Roak sat and thought some more. Hessa let him.

  When he was finished with his food and drink, he got up and left the tray and mug for a bot to clean up. Roak left the mess and made his way to the lift then to his quarters. He stripped naked and stepped into the lavatory then into the steam. Roak let the heat seep into his sore muscles and tired bones. The plan was almost formed in his mind and he was so close to having all of the elements click into place.

  Once out of the steam, Roak dried off and put on clean clothes. He thought about going back up to the bridge, but decided to lie down on his bed instead.

  “What hotel is she staying at?” Roak asked.

  “She’s not staying at a hotel,” Hessa replied. “She is staying at the ActivAri Villas.”

  “ActivAri?” Roak asked, sitting upright. He smiled. “Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  “Good. That will make this much, much easier,” Roak said. “How close can you get us without being detected?”

  “To ensure that the engine wash does not cause any alarms, we will need to land about one kilometer from the perimeter of the Villas,” Hessa said. “You’ll have to walk.”

  “I can walk a click, Hessa,” Roak said, amused.

  “Yes, of course you can, but that is a kilometer of risk, Roak,” Hessa said. “A kilometer of open ground.”

  “Open ground?” Roak asked then shook his head. “Yes, right, sorry. The ActivAri Villas have always had a ridiculous amount of greenspace around them. Nowhere else on Ballyway is that underdeveloped.”

  “This is true,” Hessa said. “They do not even have slot machine kiosks along the walking trails.”

  “I can make it,” Roak said. “But I’ll have to blend in.”

  “Then might I suggest you not use your light armor,” Hessa said. “Perhaps normal clothes will be best.”

  “I’m thinking that too,” Roak said. “Blortas on my ankles and blades hidde
n in my trousers. No Flott, too big, and no Keplars, they get pinged at every security checkpoint.”

  “Sound thinking,” Hessa said. “Except for one issue.”

  “I can work around that,” Roak said.

  “Can you, Roak? A lack of implants might be suspicious.”

  “It’ll be very suspicious. Which will work to my advantage. Get me external ID so I can offer something the security personnel can scan. And I’ll need all the chits we have on hand.”

  “All of them?” Hessa asked. “Roak, we are, as the saying goes, broke as fuck.”

  Roak laughed hard at that. He couldn’t help himself.

  “It’ll be worth it,” Roak said once he’d gotten himself under control. “There is one last thing I need you to help me with.”

  “Of course.”

  17.

  Three wormhole portals later, Yellow Eyes was still cursing Roak out.

  “You are the worst thing that has ever happened to me,” Yellow Eyes said. “I had a job, man. I had friends. Carla and Taps were nice to me and I felt wanted. But then the dark cloud of Roak came and pissed all over everything. Now I have to deal with this!”

  Yellow Eyes held up one of his arms. He waved it in Roak’s placid face.

  “Look at that! Mutilated!” Yellow Eyes screeched. “You’re nothing more than a galactic butcher!”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it before,” Roak said. He grabbed the waving arm and shoved it into Yellow Eyes’ face. “It’s already healed so stop whining.”

  “Healed? Healed! Look!” Yellow Eyes held up all his arms. “This one is shorter than the others now! Shorter! I’m a freak!”

  The placid look on Roak’s face began to crack. “No one will notice. Or care.”

  “I notice! I care!” Yellow Eyes shouted.

  “Stop yelling,” Roak ordered. “That arm will grow again. You heal. They’ll all be even again soon.”

  “How do you know that? How?” Yellow Eyes shouted then quieted down as Roak shifted ominously in the pilot’s seat. “I barely know what I’m capable of. There is no way you can know.”

  “Hessa?” Roak asked.

  “Yellow Eyes, I have been doing a considerable amount of research on your physical being,” Hessa said. “I have scanned you over sixteen million times since you first set foot on the ship. I cannot say for certain, and your body is very resistant to deep scans, but I theorize that you can regrow any part of you that is removed.”

  “But I don’t want any part of me removed, man,” Yellow Eyes said.

  “Listen. Just shut up and listen,” Roak said and stood up. “You are my way in to meet Zxixwell. The Tanji Corporation will be very interested in a being like you. All I have to do is take her a sample and she’ll want to meet. We meet, I lure her back to the ship, and then we get back to work.”

  “Why in all the Hells would she come back to the ship?” Yellow Eyes asked. “Especially when the ship is going to be up in orbit.”

  “The ship will remain on the planet,” Hessa said. “We will stay in stealth mode and invisible, hovering over the area using grav drives only so the engines do not give us away. When Roak comms then we land again.”

  “There are a lot of holes in that plan,” Yellow Eyes stated.

  “There always are,” Roak replied. “Good thing I’m great at my job.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better,” Yellow Eyes said. “Neither does being bait. What happens if she refuses to come to the ship? What will you do then?”

  “Bring you to her,” Roak said. “You can defend yourself easily. Unless they have cutter bots.”

  “Why? Why would you say that?” Yellow Eyes exclaimed.

  “That was dick, Roak,” Hessa said.

  “Yeah, it was,” Roak said with a smirk. “This is the best plan we have. If I’m going to find Bishop then this is what we have to do.”

  “Have you thought about dropping all this Bishop hunting shit?” Yellow Eyes asked. “Have you? Go back to being a bounty hunter and get some new jobs. Build your fortune back up and walk away from all this stupid crap, man.”

  “Bishop betrayed me,” Roak said in a tone like that explained all the mysteries in the universe. “And he took my chits.”

  “We also do not know where Ally or Sha Tog are,” Hessa said.

  “That’s a different issue we’ll deal with after,” Roak said.

  “Ditch the revenge and go find your friends instead,” Yellow Eyes said.

  “Not. Gonna. Happen,” Roak said. “You betray me, I come for you. You steal my chits, I get my chits back.”

  “If you want to be defined and controlled by this compulsion for payback, then so be it, man,” Yellow Eyes said, throwing his arms in the air in exasperation. Then he looked at the shorter one and groaned. “I’m gonna take a nap.”

  “You do that,” Roak said.

  He watched Yellow Eyes leave the bridge then turned to face the view shield. The swirling chaos of trans-space took up the entire image. Roak sat back down in the pilot’s seat.

  “Uh, Roak?” Hessa said. “You will want to go get changed.”

  “It takes me five seconds to change clothes, Hessa,” Roak said as he kicked his boots up onto the console.

  “Yes, normally I would agree, except you are not accustomed to dressing so…nice.”

  “Clothes are clothes, Hessa.”

  “Not when visiting an establishment like ActivAri Villas.”

  “You think I’ve never worn a suit before?”

  “I have never seen you wear a suit before.”

  “I know how to dress, Hessa.”

  “Good for you. Yet I am unconvinced.”

  “Are you going to annoy me until I get up and try on different outfits for your approval?”

  “Probably. Yes.”

  “Eight Million Gods,” Roak muttered as he stood up and left the bridge.

  When he reached his quarters, the bots had laid out a few different outfit choices.

  “Personally, based on your skin coloring and the scars that mottle your face, I would wear the purple suit,” Hessa said.

  “I’m wearing the black one,” Roak stated and picked up the suit.

  “With a purple shirt?” Hessa asked.

  “With a black shirt,” Roak said.

  “All black? Really, Roak?” Hessa sighed. “I should have hid the black suit.”

  Roak looked down at the other choices. “Where did we get all this? I have never owned more than two suits. There’re six here.”

  “I have been preparing,” Hessa said.

  “For…?”

  “Anything and everything.”

  Roak shrugged then set the black suit down as he stripped off his clothes. He tried the suit on, studying his image in a reflection holo.

  “I look like a salesbeing,” Roak said.

  “Salesbeings do not dress in black, Roak. You look like an assassin,” Hessa said. “Are you sure you want to go with all black?”

  “If I look like an assassin, then yes, I want to wear all black,” Roak said. “It’ll keep Zxixwell’s security nervous.”

  “That’s not a good thing, Roak.”

  “It is if I want them nervous. Trust me, Hessa. Let me do what I do best. Track, hunt, retrieve. Bishop is my primary target, but Zxixwell is my immediate target. I know what I’m doing, so lay off about the black suit.”

  “Laying off, laying off,” Hessa replied.

  She went quiet and Roak could tell the silence was loaded with a question.

  “Ask it,” Roak said as he left his quarters for the armory.

  “Yellow Eyes,” Hessa said. “What are your plans for him?”

  “Don’t have any,” Roak said.

  “I do not believe that in the slightest,” Hessa replied. “If you can get the information from Zxixwell on Bishop’s whereabouts, but you have to sacrifice Yellow Eyes to do that, will you?”

  Roak paused in the corridor and rubbed at his forehead for a minute. Then he start
ed walking again, entering the lift without answering the question.

  “I was worried that would be the answer,” Hessa said quietly.

  “Yellow Eyes showed up,” Roak said once the lift was in motion. “He’s an asset to be used however I need to use him. The guy is no different than a bit of intel. I use it how I use it and move on from there.”

  “That’s cold,” Hessa said. “Even for you. He did save your life.”

  “I know,” Roak said. “So, I might feel shitty about it for a while.” Roak grunted then cleared his throat. “But, if this all works, then sacrificing Yellow Eyes won’t even be an option.”

  “I do hope that is how it all turns out,” Hessa said.

  Roak was surprised that he felt the same way. He didn’t voice that to Hessa, though, as he left the lift and walked to the armory.

  Five hours later, the ship was approaching Ballyway. As soon as they had come through the wormhole portal, Hessa had dropped them into stealth mode. She monitored the comm traffic and made sure none of the other ships had noticed their disappearance. When the open channels didn’t mention them and the private channels she could hack didn’t mention them, then Hessa sent them towards the gaming planet, plotting the best course for atmospheric entry that would take them directly to ActivAri Villas.

  It was another seven hours before they were on approach to the planet’s surface. Being in stealth mode meant a lot of maneuvering around and past ships that didn’t know they were there. Roak had to shout at Yellow Eyes several times to stop crying out at every close call. Yellow Eyes did not stop crying out at every close call.

  “Five minutes until we land,” Hessa stated.

  Roak stood and made his way off the bridge, down the lift, and into the cargo hold. He double-checked his outfit, grimaced at the image, then triple-checked that his pistols were snug and secure on his ankles and that the blades tucked inside the waistband of his trousers didn’t show and were firmly attached. The blades made bending at the waist a little tough, but Roak would rather that than not have the weapons on hand.

  “Touching down now,” Hessa said as Roak pulled the small specimen jar from the inside of his suit coat pocket.

  “Thanks,” Roak said as he shook the little piece of Yellow Eyes then put the jar back in the pocket.