Dying For Space

by S. J. Higbee

  But maybe he needs to square things, Lizzy. Try and make it right. Anyone facing death has the right to do that. Go and see him. Please. Jessica had died in a firefight without being able to make anything right – and she didn’t make a habit of saying ‘Please’.

  So I ended up in Bernal’s cell just after midnight, when he was due to be executed at dawn by firing squad. The small room was awash with the cries and applause of an over-excited audience as exotically dressed null-dancers swooped across the cell walls. My sleep-silted brain was scrambling to catch up, when Jessica provided the answer.

  I reckon this is Bernal’s last request. A holo of the famous null-dance performance of ‘Swan Lake’ by Raymond Fletcher and Lolita Daybreak.

  Bernal scrambled to his feet, his former gracefulness gone.

  Despite my fury at his wicked murder of Rick, I swallowed at his thin pallor – and his clumsiness. I knew what that signified. Although there were no obvious signs such as black eyes or bruising, Norman’s ‘questioners’ had clearly been at work.

  “Thank you for coming.” He waved at the wall and the scene froze. “I wasn’t sure if you would.”

  “Neither was I.” I was there as a favour to Jessica and certainly didn’t want him thinking I was any kind of a friend. Not after what he’d done.

  “How’s things in Procurement?”

  “A flooding mess! What d’you think – efficiency would improve after you went and knifed the man who ran it?”

  “I’m sorry.” His eyes looked huge in his pale, emaciated face. And desperate. “Thing is… I’d like… just to know…” the words tumbled out of his mouth. “I really, really loved Rick. You know? No one ever… cared like that. But… he–he could lie so sodding well…” He broke off and looked blankly at the frozen dancers as tears trickled down his hollow cheeks.

  I was stapled to the spot by horrified pity. This wretch didn’t need any vengeful ill-wishing from me. He was already in a hell of his own making.

  “And… I knew he’d cared for Elsbeth. And – he kept talking about you. Saying how alike – and how different you were. To her, that is.” Bernal stumbled on, “He laughed – when I accused him of… And here…” He flicked a hand at the room. “…he reckons that you and Rick did. He doesn’t like you very much. Hates you, in fact.”

  What is he babbling about? It didn’t help that I’d been working for the past fifteen hours. “I’m not completely sure what you’re talking about. But, if it helps – I give you my solid word that Rick and I were friends and work colleagues. No more, no less.”

  He staggered into the only chair and slumped forward.

  “You staunch?” Of course not. You’ve just discovered that you stabbed your lover to death over a bunch of baseless suspicions. Despite everything – or maybe because of it – I found myself on my knees, with my arm across his shoulders. “Bernal?”

  He stiffened and winced.

  I immediately pulled away, hoping I hadn’t twanged any of his injuries too badly. His hand on my wrist was icy. As if part of him was already dead. “Thank you. For coming. Didn’t think you would. And for telling me straight.” His grip tightened, pulling me towards him. “Take care,” he breathed into my ear. “He hates you, Eddy… Said I had to tell you – Hallo from him. Watch your back. He’s a sick prodder.” And he pushed a slip of parch up my sleeve with one hand, while patting my arm with the other.

  While I was struggling not to hyperventilate. Eddy – here!

  Keep solid, Lizzy. If the sorry scumsac is around, he’ll be watching all of this, for sure.

  “Thank you,” the words fell from my mouth as I straightened. I thrust my hand out. “Luck. With…” I usually pride myself on telling it like it is, but just then I couldn’t continue the sentence.

  He shook hands, his lips twitching into a humourless grin. “Think I ran out’ve luck a while back.”

  Saying farewell in the circumstances seemed tasteless. So I just nodded, gave his hand a last squeeze and stumbled out of the cell.

  My walk along the snaking corridor seemed everlasting. The nape of my neck prickled with the knowledge that my psychotic brother was watching my every move. While I burned with fury, cursing my idiocy that I hadn’t put a shot between Eddy’s piggy eyes when I’d had the chance.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Despite my exhaustion, I didn’t get much sleep that night. I’d like to be able to report that I was still awake at dawn, when Bernal was executed. But at around four in the morning, I’d finally slipped into a heavy doze, lying on the overstuffed sofa with Fido huddled up next to me.

  I finally surfaced, with puffy eyes and an aching head when Fido – who doubled as my alarm – started nudging me at half six. As I surfaced, I recalled the slip of parch that Bernal had pushed up my sleeve. Scrawled across it in shaky real-handwriting was a hexadecimal alpha-numeric string. When I went to Elsbeth’s workdesk and entered the digits onto the Shielded inner system where most of the Procurement stock lists were kept, a file appeared containing a step-by-step guide of where to find all the Procurement master ite and suppliers’ listings, along with all the weapons’ testing reports. Basically, most of what was necessary to continue running Procurement.

  I examined the torn piece of parch that Bernal had given me, wondering how he’d managed to keep it from the guards. Looking at it more carefully, I realised the rust-coloured ink could only be blood. I shivered. You’re now beyond Eddy or Norman’s reach. Hope you’ve found peace, Bernal. And thank you for this. Looks like it’ll majorly help.

  It did.

  Having spent so many years as Procurement Director, Rick had forgotten more about the job than anyone else knew. Even Diana, his deputy, had barely grazed the surface. A fact that had become apparent when watching her panicky floundering under the auditors’ cross-questioning of every unexplained procedure or ite-code. Of which there were stackfuls.

  Rick’s urbane front effectively disguised the fact that he was every bit as autocratic as Norman. He tended to parcel out the relatively unimportant tasks to his underlings and deal with the vital stuff himself, managing to get through a huge amount of work on a daily basis, because while the rest of us were poring over lists looking for ite-numbers and suppliers, he would just tab the relevant bod and put in an order. During those first desperate weeks, although we had a few close calls, no one on the front line actually ran out of anything vital. So no one was killed or injured as a direct result of our efforts, or failures – a minor miracle for which we were all grateful. Riona claimed it was Rick looking after us from heaven…

  Rick’s funeral was a small, dignified affair, organised by Fina, therefore it was tasteful and entirely appropriate. I like to think he would have approved. The one jarring note was all the guards necessary to keep out the journos. As for Bernal, I never got to know exactly where he was buried. But I did leave a small bunch of lilies on Rick’s grave for him. Yes – I know he was the one who murdered Rick. But Rick wouldn’t have continued bearing a grudge against him – he didn’t run like that. And it would’ve broken his heart to see how much Bernal had suffered during the two weeks before he was shot.

  By the time the auditors put in a report effectively clearing everyone of any wrongdoing, other than Rick and Bernal, we had more or less sorted the day-to-day running of Procurement.

  Diana immediately pounced on Bernal’s list like a long-lost lover, knowing exactly what it meant and so it made sense for her to spend most of her time in Rick’s office, once the bloodstained carpet was replaced. Rick’s high-end furniture was also exchanged for more appropriately utilitarian items and the wonderful canteen was abruptly closed and replaced with far more prosaic menu choices. However, we did hang onto the excellent coffee. I locked horns with Norman over that one, pointing out that while the team were working insanely long hours and grieving for their murdered boss, morale was on the floor. I suggested that continuing allowing them access to the best grade coffee would help keep everyone going, especially as
we couldn’t afford to lose any more personnel.

  Riona threatened to leave daily for the first month. Diana would make soothing noises about how important she was and could she just hold on a few weeks more? I got into the habit of taking her for a drink after work, where we would chatter about nothing and laugh a lot. While she wasn’t the stimming company of Alisha and Jessica from my time on Shooting Star, I enjoyed spending time with someone of my own age. And it made her feel part of the team.

  As for me? While Diana was an excellent adminite – Rick was majorly under-utilising her talents – she was too nice with some suppliers, who started to take liberties. So I began dealing with them. My version of the Cap’s frigid English politeness came in very useful with a couple of the most offensively patronising dreggers. It became my personal mission to have them spluttering with red-faced anger at my arched eyebrows and sneering over-use of their job titles.

  It made my decade when the auditors unearthed a hidden account in Harold Gadenson’s name – he was our major supplier of personal shields – proving that he and Rick had shared the illicit profits made by a 300% price increase which occurred while Norman was locked in his room, grieving for his dead family. Gadenson was furious at the General’s abrupt termination of our contract with him, claiming that he hadn’t known anything about the account. But Norman treated that bilgescum with the contempt it richly deserved and I had the pleasure of giving Gadenson the flickoff, the next time he pestered us with his blusters of innocence and threats of legal action.

  Having to work flat-out in Procurement was a good thing for my continued welfare, because it kept me away from Norman while I was still raging over his slimy behaviour concerning Eddy. Even the stunt he pulled regarding Elsbeth’s dresses faded into the furniture against that one.

  I’d assumed after his arrest, my vile brother would be locked up for the rest of his sorry life. It’s certainly what he deserved after his wicked crimes. But he wasn’t under lock and key, somewhere in Nuevo Madrid. Oh no – General Norman had seen fit to decant him into his organisation and use his sick sadism for his own vile ends. Apart from anything else, it didn’t improve my sleep, knowing that Eddy was sliming about only a mere floor or two below me – less so when I was working in Procurement.

  In the middle of this crisis, I also had Romeo to consider. As soon as I could manage – a full week later than I’d initially planned – I ordered a full-grown heart that only needed some minor tweaking to make it compatible with Romeo’s DNA. You must realise that at the time I was up to my eyes and more with all the fallout surrounding Rick’s death. Or I would’ve been jumping all over those wretched meddies, with their delays and constant ‘monitoring of the situation’ riff. As it was, another week crawled by while Romeo steadily lost ground before the heart I’d spent a stackful of creds shipping by special delivery to Restormel finally arrived.

  Give our medics their due, they implanted it almost the moment it landed. When I visited during my lunchbreak, I was hoping to see some improvement, but although his chest was now sewn up, he was still in a deep coma. Still pale and unmoving. The medics muttered about a secondary infection in his augs and put him on a phage medication, which I also paid for.

  His girlie sat beside the bed, gripping his hand with both of hers and jabbering a lot of empty nonsense at him that would’ve had him crawling up the walls had he been conscious. I made my excuses and left.

  After that I was as useful as a staled airpac with the number of mistakes I was making, so for once I finished work early. I’d showered, changed into my running gear and was just on my way out to the cross-country track, when Norman barged into my room.

  I didn’t have time to freeze Fido, who made a snarling rush at the General, who shot him three times. Aghast, I dropped to my knees. But the dead fish stink and gurgling hiss told me that the Norman’s aim was right on target and that funny little Fido would never again roll over and wave his legs in the air.

  “Good thing Elsbeth isn’t here to see you shoot her Fido!” I yelled.

  Stabbing a finger painfully into my shoulder, the General snarled, “Don’t you fling her name around, you cred-hugging little bitch! Go on – show me your wardrobe.”

  He’s found out about the dresses, has he? I crossed the room and flung open the doors.

  “Where are they?” he roared in my face. “Where are all those beautiful gowns I gave you, then?”

  Far too angry to be properly afraid, I shouted, “You know full well where they are. I sold them to buy Romeo a heart!”

  “How dare you, you ungrateful piece of…” he called me a string of names that I’ve no inclination to repeat.

  I put my hands on my hips. “What’s your problem? That I discovered you flushed your dead daughter’s cast-offs onto me? Or that I sold them?”

  “Who put you up to this? Tell me, was it Fina?” his voice was almost gentle if you ignored the murderous light in his eyes.

  “What the Mother Earth has Fina got to do with anything?” I snapped. In my defence, I’d mention that dealing with Rick’s death had been hard, I was spaced over Romeo’s operation and that I’d become very attached to Fido. Then there was still the issue of Eddy burning a hole in my soul.

  “Fina!” His bellow down his eardrop made the walls ring. “Yes. I need you. In Elizabeth’s room. Immediately.” He gave me the full benefit of his snarling grin. “Now we’ll get to the bottom of this crud. Fina is not a good liar.”

  “It’s as well this has nothing to do with her, then!” I snapped.

  Fina swept into the room, looking beautiful in a sea blue silk negligee, trimmed with grey lace.

  Before she had a chance to open her mouth, Norman gestured at the open, empty wardrobe.

  “What d’you know about this, woman?”

  We both watched her exquisite face darken as she turned back to him. “She found out the dresses belonged to Elsbeth, did she? And presumably got rid of them.” She sighed. “What do you want me to say, William? I told you it was a bad idea. I told you that she’d find out. Especially as you insisted on moving her into Elsbeth’s room. And for the record – no – I didn’t tell her.”

  “I didn’t call you in here to be nagged at, woman! I wanted to know if you were part of this shoddy double-dealing. You’ve told me you’re not. I believe you, so now you can go.”

  “Oh, can I?” Her fine eyes sparked. “Before I do – here’s a piece of advice. Back off over the dresses, William. They never suited her and she’s well rid of them.”

  “Don’t you take that tone with me!” Norman’s face was turning puce. “She’d no business going behind my back like that!”

  Fina arched her perfect eyebrows. “And if she’d come to you, would you have trusted her judgement? Or bellowed that she was an ungrateful piece of filth for wanting something other than Elsbeth’s cast-offs?” She glided towards him, flushed and heart-stoppingly beautiful as her voice became pleading, “Don’t make the mistake of treating her like Elsbeth. She isn’t – and if you continue down this road, William, you’ll mess up all over again.”

  Norman’s hand was a blur as he struck Fina across the face with such force that she reeled backwards, sprawling across the floor, suddenly – horribly – graceless. “Look what you’ve gone and made me do with your flapping mouth, bitch!” And with that, he strode out of the room.

  Kneeling beside her, I dabbed at her split lip, which was bleeding freely over her lovely negligee. “Oh, Fina! Sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

  Shakily Fina got up and crossed to my mirror. “Hm. There’ll be bruising. But it’s not so bad.” Trying for a smile, she winced. “I’ve had worse, honey.”

  Her endearment brought tears to my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  Her hand on my arm was cold. “Don’t be. If it hadn’t been this business, it would’ve been something else. And I’ve been a wet-head for thinking otherwise.” Her grip tightened. “Come with me.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “
I warned him last time that if he ever… again, I’d leave.” Her voice flattened, “If I stay, there’ll be another time – and another. I waded through too much of this crud while he was grieving. After you came, he promised it would all change. And here we are. Again.” She repeated, “Come with me. Tonight. Now.”

  Go on Lizzy! This is your chance. Take it, why don’t you?

  Slam it shut, Jessica! You know what happened last time tried running from him! I shook my head, feeling sick. “I can’t. H-he’ll come after you.”

  Fina’s expression was bleak. “Oh, no he won’t. The great General Norman won’t be seen chasing after a mere woman. He’s seeing someone else, anyhow. Thinks I don’t know.”

  I felt gut-punched. “Then he’s star-crazed. You’re so beautiful and smart!”

  She shrugged. “A man in his position – it’s inevitable. I learnt not to mind about that a long while ago. But he’s changed since the accident. And he’s certainly not thinking straight where you’re concerned. Even if it creates a few kinks in my airhose, the offer stands. I’ve got friends, here. Folks who helped me work out a fast exit strategy years ago… They’ll take you along, I’m sure.”

  And I’m certain they won’t – not if they’ve an atom of sense… I hugged her, hard. “Thank you. I’m… It means the world to me that you offered. But I couldn’t bear to see you hurt because of me.” Because he might let you go, but he’d never rest if I tried to walk away. Not after last time… I was enormously touched that she’d risk her own escape by offering to take me, too.

  She smoothed my hair from my forehead. “Take care. And – check my bedside cabinet later tonight. I’ll get a message to you once I’m settled. If I’d had a daughter, I’d like to think she would’ve turned out a lot like you. Good-bye, honey.” With sickening finality, Fina gently kissed my cheek and crossed to the door.

  “I’ll walk you to your room. Let me help you pack,” I gabbled, desperate not to let her go.