Dying For Space

by S. J. Higbee

  I rushed on before he could stop me. “And you hired those actors to prod each other boneless, with our images – Rick’s and mine – holo-masked onto them. And made sure Bernal got the tab.”

  “William… no!” George slumped in the nearest chair, looking spaced.

  “You didn’t share this info-nugget with your team?” I tutted, light-headedly relieved this slo-mo misery was finally ending.

  A ripple twanged the bar-taut tension in the room as some of the Shadows shifted.

  “Enough!” Norman snapped.

  But after being quiet so long, I couldn’t seem to slam it shut. “Tell me, exactly how did Elsbeth die?” I swear on Mercury’s ashes, I was only jabbing back at him. Didn’t think for a nanosec that he’d do anything other than roar curses at me.

  “It was an accident. A stupid blix-up.” He stared past me, seeing something long gone.

  Something he’d give the world to fix… Something he’ll regret with his dying breath…

  “The baby was making her unreasonable and moody. She wanted to run away to her mother. After all I’d done for her – the creds I’d spent on her! After all the dross we’d waded through together, she was leaving me!” He sighed. A slow, sad sound. “I hired a specialist to place a small charge on her flyer. To stop her leaving.” His voice was a husky croak, “I swear… that’s all I wanted.”

  “You killed her! You killed them all!” I gripped the back of the chair as the room tilted.

  “It was an accident! I never meant…”

  For the flyer to become disabled in space, hit something and blow up.

  “But God knows it was an honest mistake. That’s why He sent you to me. To make up for what happened.”

  He is – he’s completely star-crazed…

  As the General fixed his mad eyes on me, he added, “He knows I never meant to murder Elsbeth. Which is why He made sure you came to me.”

  “We’ve discussed this, William. Circumstance brought Elizabeth to you—” started George.

  “No!” roared Norman, his fist hammering the table. “It was the first time I’d been in space since… when we got notification that a young girl had been blown apart on that sorry tin can of a space station…”

  He’s talking about when Jessica died on Hawking…

  “And my first thought was, ‘God is punishing me further by killing my last child.’” he broke off, his face bleak. Silence crawled around the room. Everyone was statue-still, hardly daring to breathe. Before he finally continued, turning to lock looks with me, “And then we got word it wasn’t you – and it came to me in a flash. God knew I hadn’t intended to cause any harm, and wanted me to come and get you. He was giving me another chance.” His smile made me shiver. “Now do you see, sweetheart? This is meant to be. God has commanded it.”

  A terrible thought occurred. My heart thudded and my palms sweated at the notion. “Wynn’s death—”

  “I’m sick of hearing his name! After all I’ve done for you – you insist on moping around like some prodding widow-woman. Mother Earth knows, I’ve been understanding. But you – your whining never ends. No more.” Norman raised his voice, jabbing his forefinger in the air at me, “It stops here. I forbid you to say his name!”

  “Did you have him killed?” There. I’ve said it. Cold sweat trickled down my back. Time slowed. Looking around, everything was in jagged detail. The Shadows were staring at me, some with pity on their faces, others looked blanker than nullspace. Kyreen had her hands up to her mouth, her eyes wide and terrified as she inched towards the door. Small wonder. She mightn’t have the shiniest thinking equipment, but it wouldn’t take a planet-sized brain to figure what she’d just heard would shorten her life expectancy. George, hunched in a chair, seemed to have aged a decade.

  Norman sniggered, while fumbling for a cigar. “If you had the slightest sense of humour, you’d find this amusing.” He shook his head as he shoved a cigar in his mouth. “But in this respect, your sister was your superior. Elsbeth was a great one for laughing.”

  Bet she wasn’t laughing when she was being blown up.

  Maybe now isn’t the time to be saying such things aloud, Lizzy…

  Norman yanked the cigar out of his mouth to bellow, “You dare to mock your dead sister!”

  Jessica, that you?

  Who else would it be, Lizzy?

  “You’ll never be half the daughter she was – underhand little piece that you are! Elsbeth never went info-digging the way you…” His words washed past me in a warm rush of relief that Jessica was alongside, right now.

  “Serves you right that Wynn never died!” roared Norman.

  “What d’you mean?” Feeling gut-punched, my knife-hand dropped to my side.

  His gaze never left my face as he clicked his fingers. One of his aides jumped forward with a flame and the General sucked and puffed in a cloud of blue smoke.

  Haul it together, Lizzy. You let your wits wander over an event horizon, you’ll likely follow them into a black hole.

  He sucked in a deep lungful of smoke, savouring my tension. Drawing the moment out.

  Hope it chokes you!

  “After God told me that I should come and get you, I waited for the right moment…”

  Waited to be able to twist events round to suit your own scummy motives, more like. I stared at him, feeling a burst of hatred for this man who had yanked me out of my life just to suit himself.

  “Sure enough, the opportunity presented itself. Just as God promised.” Norman grinned around his cigar. “When your stray was retrieved from the wreckage of the farmhouse so badly injured, there were those who argued that he should be allowed to die.”

  I’ll bet you did. My face flushed with fury. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a Shadow slowly sidling closer. I brought the knife up. “Don’t make me throw it. At this distance, I mightn’t miss.”

  The General paused, till he was sure he had my full attention, again. “However, your step-father had Blondie’s legs cut off. Then offered to provide a full regen package, so long as he agreed never to get in touch with you again. And he agreed. That’s the measure of the sorry article you’ve been eating your heart out over these last two years, prodding coward that he is!”

  I leaned on the chair, feeling winded. And hurt that Wynn had agreed to such a plan.

  Get real, Lizzy. What was Wynn to do? Without his legs, he’d last for about a nanosec in one of those fugee camps. Maybe for a while, he’d survive with those looks of his so long as he agreed to be some cut-throat’s prod-bunny.

  As ever, Jessica told it like it was.

  “So, when Father— the Cap – was saying he was sorry about Wynn.” I licked my lips with a parched tongue. “It wasn’t because he’d killed him. It was because he’d crippled him.”

  “That’s right.” When a big fat grin crawled over Norman’s face, I wanted to run at him. Plunge the dagger into his vile heart. I walked away from my family… Broke my solid promise to the little ones… Lost the love of my life… Because this evil scumsac needed a replacement, after he’d broken his two other daughters.

  “Oh, William, why tell her that? She’ll never forgive you, now.” George sounded tired.

  Norman flicked ash onto the carpet. “She has to. It’s God’s will.” He said it as if he was talking about the weather, instead of the star-crazed fantasy he’d created to ease the guilt scorching a hole in his soul.

  I took a deep breath, in readiness—

  And crashed facedown onto the carpet as the Shadow leapt me from behind, painfully twisting the knife out of my hand. Too winded and sore to even curse my own wet-headed stupidity in allowing my focus to stray from the dregger, I concentrated on not whimpering.

  Norman would like that…

  I recalled Mum’s insistence I shouldn’t cry. Don’t you cry, girl… Her eyes would narrow and if I didn’t stop – at once – she’d backhand me across the face.

  Used to think she was heartless. But she’d been sucked int
o the General’s orbit, hadn’t she? Probably sobbed and pleaded with the scuzzer only to watch him grin at her while sucking on his cigar. Maybe she tried to ensure that her daughter wouldn’t wade through the same flotsam. These thoughts zipped through my head as I struggled for air, while the zilcher was trying to flatten me into the carpet. Just when I was sure my ribcage would crack, it suddenly got a whole lot lighter.

  George still knew a few moves for an older man. He’d hauled the Shadow off my back and had his arm in a hold that would fracture the elbow if he wriggled too much. “Revs your engines to hurt a girl half your size, does it?” snarled George.

  “Put him down. He was doing his job. Elizabeth was all set to stick that prodding knife in me,” said Norman, sounding bored.

  I struggled to sit up as Number Two stepped away, looking grim. “She needed disarming, right enough. But he didn’t have to hurt her doing it.”

  I leaned against the chair. The side of my face felt on fire, where it had been ground into the carpet. My wrist was throbbing where the dregger had twisted the knife out of my hand, while my knees and ribcage plain ached.

  Shrugging, Norman took a leisurely pull on his cigar before replying, “Some lessons are painful. She needs to learn that attacking me will bring a world of woe down on her head.” His voice was layered with threat as he finally deigned to address me directly, “The only reason you’re not heading down to the Correction Facility and a session with our Communications Facilitator – who is full of brotherly love for you – is because I realise my news was something of a shock.”

  You’re threatening to lock me in a room with Eddy! Hot, dark lust pulsed through me. My aches and pains suddenly faded into the furniture as I savoured the notion of ripping Eddy’s sick brain out through his nostrils. After breaking his nose, again. And burning his toes. “If I’d known that was the way to get within hitting distance of Eddy, Father, I’d have pulled a knife on you sooner.”

  While George stared at me as if I’d sprouted horns and tail, the General threw back his head and shouted with laughter, before addressing the room, “That’s my Elizabeth! She mightn’t have Beth’s sense of humour, but she’s got her Daddy Bear’s killer instinct, sure enough.”

  I felt like he’d thrown a bucket of cold water over me. I’m nothing like you! I opened my mouth to protest.

  But Jessica got there, first. Slam it shut, Lizzy. You and me – we know you aren’t like that murdering slimer. No point in risking your life by pointing it out to him.

  I blanked my expression, conscious of Norman’s glittering gaze monitoring my every move.

  “Elsbeth’s workdesk, sweetheart.”

  I’d been half expecting this, but it didn’t stop my heart suddenly thudding.

  “My people tell me they’ve tried several passwords to access the layer of hidden records. So I must ask you – the coding.” He didn’t shout, or bellow insults. But my skin crawled at the cold finality in his tone. Norman was in merc-mode.

  If that info could save anyone, by all means tell him to suck on hard vacuum. But they’re all dead and gone, Lizzy. No point in getting yourself sliced and diced for a bunch of ghosts.

  Jessica’s comment didn’t stop me feeling a scuzzy flap-lip as I numbly punched the access code for Elsbeth’s workdesk into a tab the grinning Shadow held in front of me. Afterwards, I stared at the carpet, wishing it would suck me down into its fibres, along with the crumbs and dirt.

  Suddenly Norman flung his cigar onto the floor and crossed the room, enfolding me into one of his bear hugs. “Thank Mother Earth you’ve seen sense.”

  Too shaken and sore to do more than mumble something into his shoulder, I nearly fell when he abruptly stepped back, still gripping my upper arms painfully tight. “You still need disciplining, though. If you had concerns about any part of what was going on around here, you should have come straight to me. I’m here for you. Always. You must remember that.” He gave me a little shake.

  As if I was six and he’d discovered me fiddling with his workdesk. I gazed up at him, slack-jawed with astonishment as he patted my cheek and grinned down at me. He thinks we’re still solid! That despite admitting he’s responsible for killing both my sisters and lying about Wynn – I’m still gonna be his Lizbeth…

  Don’t spit in his face just yet, Lizzy. Won’t do any good if we end up a cooling corpse at his feet. You don’t have to say a word. Just smile back.

  I pulled my mouth into a grin, hoping it didn’t look as horrible as it felt. “Sorry,” I muttered to the ghosts of my sisters, Rick and Bernal.

  And Romeo. I reckon the slimer also gave the order for him to be taken out.

  I blinked back the tears – as Jessica probably figured I’d need to.

  “No problem, my darling,” the General’s soft rumble dropped into threat tones and his soft smile vanished. “Or it will be. Once my tech boys have stripped out Beth’s desk and analysed exactly what lies are sloshing around her system. She was a confused young woman as her pregnancy aggravated her previous mental problems. Meantime, you will stay in your room. To show you just how much I value your safety, I will entrust a group of the Shadows to take care of you.”

  I got the prickling notion that he was trying out this bilgecrud to see just how convincing it sounded. Swinging away from me, he nodded at Len and the zilcher who’d flattened me.

  I felt a twinge of relief. Len was a solid bloke, one of the more likeable Shadows, if that wasn’t an oxymoron. Not that there was any sign of his likeability just now. He held my arm in a bone-bending grip as we made our way along the main corridor to the lift, pulling me along so fast, I was half running to keep up.

  A merc I’d known from my visits to the meat-suite, grinned a greeting at me.

  I attempted some kind of normality. “Hi—”

  Len nearly jerked me off my feet. “No talking to the prisoner!”

  The man – whose name now escapes me – looked spaced. “What dross is going down? This is our Lizbeth, the General’s daughter.”

  “She is also to be confined to her room, pending an investigation into some questionable activities liable to hurt the interests of the Peace and Prosperity Corps. General’s orders!” Len’s voice rang around the corridor.

  Bringing everyone within earshot to a skidding halt.

  “Prod it, Len,” muttered his black-clad companion, grabbing hold of my other arm. “Slam it shut, why don’t you? Carry on like this and you’ll cause a flooding riot. Girlie here is wriggled her sorry self into all the Englander’s affections. They go round acting like she’s some prodding saint.”

  The merc stepped right in Len’s personal space till he was nearly touching noses with the Shadow. “Unhand Miss Elizabeth. Now.”

  Holed heavens, he’s still on sick leave! He tries going one on one with Len, he’ll be right back in the meat-suite – this time without any sick pay. And he’s a wife and two children.

  “Or what?” Len sneered, clearly spoiling for a fight.

  I couldn’t believe it. If you’d asked me, I’d have sworn on Jessica’s grave that Len was a regular stead-headed bloke. “It’s prone. Please. Don’t make any trouble.” I tried to smile, hoping it looked better than it felt. “You know Daddys and their daughters, right? Things get said. Tempers get lost. We’ll probably be laughing about this in a couple’ve days.”

  “Or not,” Len snapped. “Don’t know which event horizon you were skipping along, Miss. But from where I was standing, some of those accusations you flung out there aren’t fading into the furniture. Not if I know the General.”

  The crowd around us was growing with every passing minute, as the corridor was now completely blocked both ways. There was an ugly mutter at Len’s words.

  What’s he playing at? Anyone would think he was trying to blix things up here, instead of keeping the situation prone…

  They would, wouldn’t they? Think! What options would a Shadow have – if he majorly disagreed with what Norman is doing? How could he best
help you? Other than letting everyone know that you’re under house arrest, that is? Jessica might be bossy and opinionated, but she knows how to read a situation as well as any QuickThink-chewing battle-tac techie.

  Len’s companion let me go, lifting his hands palms out, trying to smooth down the growing hostility. “Okay. I’ll let her go. See? And so will Len. Won’t you?”

  Muttering under his breath, Len made a show of releasing me. A solid relief. My arm was going to be black and blue if I didn’t get out the bruise-kleer salve on returning to my room.

  Except we weren’t going anywhere. Word – somehow – had spread. The corridor ahead was now blocked by several ranks of grim-faced mercs. My stomach tightened. This had the potential to get nasty. Many of were armed. But the Shadows’ lethal rep wasn’t just some holo scam. If anyone kicked off in here – never mind the major damage to the P’s rep if it got out there was fighting within our HQ – lives would be lost.

  “The General has ordered that I should be confined to my room,” my voice sounded small among all the angry testosterone flooding the corridor. I shrugged, trying for teen attitude. “Can’t say as I agree with his viewpoint…”

  The pent atmosphere unwound a couple of turns. A few bods even laughed.

  “Still, I’d rather not end up being grounded come next Christmas. So. Maybe I should suck this dross up for the time being, eh?”

  “We’ll accompany you, Miss. Ensure these motherprodders treat you right.”

  “Affirmative to that one. Know their shoddy rep.”

  Amid a growing chorus, the human barrier ahead parted and flowed around us. Jostled and hemmed us in as the crowd surged through the corridors to my room. I breathed a sigh of relief that violence was avoided. Of course, if I’d known what was coming, I wouldn’t have been relaxing – I’d have been planning how to escape.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  I look back on the next two days with a sick shudder. Despite everything you’ve heard, I’m not brave. Oh – I’ll do the right thing in the heat of the moment. But if I have to sit and wait, my courage leaks away. My imagination is far too vivid, for one thing. And there’s always Jessica to fill me in on the dross I haven’t yet considered.