Dying For Space

by S. J. Higbee

  He was right. I hated it. The Red-Sashes around me weren’t exactly jumping with joy, either. But no one could come up with anything better. Or even half as good. I suggested that we took a vote, hoping they’d decide it wasn’t worth the risk. But, as Jessica pointed out, who’d want Norman to have access to all those weapons a nanosec longer than was absolutely necessary? Most’ve them agreed to go with it.

  “No offence, Miss,” Red-Face seemed to make a point of raising problems, “but this whole thing rests on you being able to do the biz at the right time. You up for it? Him, being your daddy, an’ all.”

  Resting a hand on my shoulder, George drew breath to answer.

  Red-Face cut in, “Wasn’t asking you. As it happens. Your Big Idea puts her right on the front line. Just wanted to know whether she’s got the stones for it.” He turned back to me. “Wouldn’t think any less’ve you if you couldn’t. But it’s no small thing he’s asking you to do – standing toe to toe with the General has most’ve us running for the ʼcycler. But if you get there and find you can’t, well… it won’t be just your corpse waving in the wind, is what I’m thinking.”

  I thought of those dogs tearing into that wretched merc… my lost family… poor little Violet… Elsbeth… Rick and Bernal… Fina… Wynn... And me. If it hadn’t been for General Norman and his star-crazed conviction that God had provided me for him, as if my life’s ambitions were nothing – I would have left Shooting Star with Wynn and by now be living on Ceres as his wife. Maybe, even, with a couple of children…

  “Oh, I can do it. That’s not the bit I’m gagging on. It’s the lead-up that’s giving me the jitters.” Having to be his loving daughter. I’d sooner suck on hard vacuum. “He might be madder than a space-spooked cat, but no one ever accused Norman of being stupid. Convincing him will be difficult.” I bit down on the fear spiking my guts at the very thought of getting close enough for a Daddy Bear hug.

  “He’s always found you hard to read, Elizabeth,” George’s comment had me slack-jawed with amazement. “It’s part of his fascination with you, if you want the truth. Reckons you look so small and frail, before you let drop some comment that shows how lethal you really are.”

  My laughter sounded harsh, even to my ears. “Oh yeah. I have him quaking in his boots.”

  George locked looks with me. “Why d’you think he resorted to Eddy and the kill dogs, Elizabeth?”

  Don’t you dare lay this bilgecrud on my shoulders. I wasn’t the only one who thought Number Two’s statement unacceptable. He should’ve been a smoking heap on the floor, with the scorching glares he was getting.

  He raised his hands in apparent surrender. “I’m not saying he should’ve done what he did, but you certainly have been posing a threat to his leadership for a while, now.”

  We don’t have time for this. Not if you’re going to go ahead with his wretched plan. Which I have to say, sounds like madness.

  I gritted my teeth at the knowledge that we were all out of options. “We’re getting off-track, here. I’ll do what needs to be done. We just gotta tighten up details.”

  George took me off to his office, shut the door and produced more details. Details that hadn’t appeared in his first briefing.

  “This… it’s horrible.” I stared at the small phial on the table between us, before backing away. “I’m not doing it – I’m not!”

  Thing is, Lizzy. Plan A isn’t going to work. Or if it does, it’ll be messy. The General’s Shadows will slice and dice the Red-Sashes. If you don’t step up and do this thing, there will be a lot more dying.

  I gestured at the stuff on the table. “There’s got to be a better way. Surely?”

  “There isn’t. And if the tables were turned, he wouldn’t hesitate for more than a nanosec,” George sounded old and used up. “No one else will be able to get close enough. And once you’ve fully shown your hand, you won’t be able to, either.”

  And so – God forgive me – I agreed. Leastways he had sufficient sense not to show relief at my decision. Just went into overdrive. We needed to move fast, before Norman’s Shadows came looking for us in force. Apparently.

  Every few yards on the way down to Procurement, people stopped me. A handful pleaded with me to be a good girl for my daddy, while a whole lot more promised to support me now that the prodding General had gone mad.

  Did I turn around and tell them I’d rather chew on ground glass than do this thing? No, of course I didn’t. Restormel isn’t any normal community, remember. These people are trained killers with a variety of lethal equipment at their disposal. If I’d walked away, groups would’ve banded together in small fighting units ready to snatch what they could, before snagging the nearest ship and heading off somewhere healthier. A scenario that would’ve seen the P’s gutted and incapable within a matter of hours. Leaving Sector Two at the mercy of every bloodthirsty zilcher with a well-armed ship. As George had already pointed out when we’d been closeted in his office.

  The next few frantic hours are something of a blur. Mostly because I kept hoping this was some weird dream and I’d awake in my bed in Elsbeth’s room to find none of it was happening. Although we should have all been asleep as it was now nudging midnight – not that you’d know it. Restormel was bristling with tension.

  Several things do stand out in my memory, however. One of them is Diana’s ecstatic welcome once we arrived down in Procurement, which George annexed as his temporary HQ. I was relieved to discover that Procurement had been unscathed in the recent chaos, even though everyone working there had been solidly behind me, apparently. And refused to process any more orders as a protest against my captivity. My stomach churned at their misguided attempts to help. What’s happening to the poor souls out on the front line, waiting for ammo and supplies?

  We spent time we didn’t have disabling the auto-log system, so that Norman and his Shadows couldn’t track what we were taking from Stores. And while I was down in Procurement, I encountered Mrs Heston looking even more frayed than I felt. She and her two boff-heads had been working flat-out to install the upgrades on their shields, meaning that they not only matched Gadenson’s Mark VI suits but could now soak up more punishment at close quarters. A vital advantage if we ended up in firefights against the Shadows.

  George asked Sergeant Gently to organise his recruits into teams of runners, physically ferrying messages between our groups of Red-Sashes, as he was convinced Norman was monitoring all coms traffic. While he continued sending false messages through the coms to try and misdirect the General’s forces. I’m still unsure whether Norman fell for it, because when we finally met, we didn’t get around to discussing the matter. Leastways, we were able to work down in Procurement knowing that Norman was blind to what we were up to.

  Rick had carefully logged the whereabouts of all the monitors, so it was the work of a few moments to punch through the wall and ceiling panels to disable them. Which George had done as soon as he’d heard that kill dogs had escaped into the complex, in addition to barricading as many people as he could scoop up behind the blast doors. But, it hadn’t been enough. As George knew only too well.

  And me? Once I’d spoken to everyone necessary down in Procurement, I tabbed the General. “Father? It’s me – Elizabeth. We need to talk, you and me. Put a stop to all this. Do I have a Safe Conduct waiver—”

  “No, Elizabeth. Don’t!” Number Two gripped my arm, trying to snatch the tab. “You can’t trust him. He won’t honour it. ‘William,’” George spat out his name as if it were poison, “doesn’t know the meaning of the word!”

  I twisted free. “We got no choice. If we don’t get this sorted, more people will die. Let me go.”

  “Lizbeth? You solid?” Norman actually sounded like he cared.

  “Yeah.” No thanks to you, you double-crossing slimer!

  “Praise be. I want you to know, sweetheart,” the General’s baritone was hoarse. “Those beasts weren’t s’posed to be part of the deal. I’d just arranged for you to be se
cured. Safe…”

  I’ll believe that one when Mother Earth stops spinning. “I knew it had to be something like that. I knew you didn’t want me to die,” I allowed my voice to wobble.

  “Gods above, no!” I’ll give him his due, he was good. He really sounded like he meant it. “So… you’re in Procurement. Of course. Holed up with that lying streak of piss who claimed he’d cover my back till his dying breath.”

  “Oh, Daddy…” I thought of Wynn and my eyes filled with tears. “It’s so good to hear your voice. I’ve missed you!”

  Everyone around me shifted, while George stared at me as if I’d sprouted two heads.

  What’s his problem?

  He’s twitched that you’re such a good liar, Lizzy. Jessica sounded amused.

  “Ah…darling girl.” Norman’s sigh gusted around the room. “I’ve missed you, too. Come on up. No harm will come to you. On my honour.”

  “Elizabeth!” George was shaking his head. “Don’t do it.”

  “I’ll be there. In an hour. Just… got to sort things down here, first.”

  “An hour. In the banqueting room. Right in the middle of the complex. Where your null-brained groupies can check on your safety.” The General’s voice hardened, “But you warn that offal next to you to watch his back. I’m not offering him safe anything. Got that?”

  And that’s how we snagged him into agreeing to the meeting. Me offering the prospect of his daughter, all pliable and obedient, once more. While his Number Two was busy shouting that he couldn’t be trusted… that he’d break his word…

  I’m aware it’s a lot more boring than the version that claims I threatened to raze Restormel to the ground and he was the one doing the buckling. And if you still don’t believe me, just think for a nanosec. Knowing just what kind of man he was, d’you really think if we’d forced him into attending the meeting with threats of aggression, he would have turned up with only his usual complement of Shadows in attendance? As it was, he was out to prove to me that he could act with honour – that George was wrong in claiming he was a double-dealing slimer.

  An hour. It was hardly long enough. But George didn’t want to give Norman too long to think. To wonder exactly why Number Two was standing at my elbow if I was really acting against his wishes.

  One of the Red-Sashes had courageously returned to my room to snag my pink dress – the one I’d worn the very first night I’d attended one of Norman’s banquets. The only one that I’d missed when I’d loaded them on the trolleybot. I knew he’d remember that night when he saw it and hoped that memory would distract him.

  I finally got to shower off the stinking AntiAttack juice, although it took a fair amount of scrubbing and a lot of Diana’s expensive soap before the smell left my skin. After slipping into the dress in my office, Diana helped me get the make-up and wig just so.

  I emerged and did a slow twirl, “Will I do?”

  George grinned, more like his old self than I’d seen for several weeks and I realised how much this business was costing him. “Oh yes. You look the part, right enough.”

  Red-Face huffed, “Don’t know why yer fussing over yer dress and face.”

  “That’s your mistake, soldier,” Number Two’s quiet voice cut through the clamour in the large room. “Her appearance matters, because the General majorly minds what she looks like. Always.”

  I glanced at Red-Face, hoping he wouldn’t take it the wrong way.

  He shrugged. “Just so we’re not risking our sorry necks while you’re busy having a love-fest with your mirror.”

  Both Len and George laughed at that and I joined in, glad for some release in the tension that had steadily been building as precious minutes ticked by.

  All too soon, George held the phial in front of me. “I’ve never had a chance to test it, you understand. I’ve had it for the last two years…”

  Before or after Elsbeth’s death? Did you have a chance to move against Norman and save her? I swallowed my spike of anger. Now wasn’t the time. Whatever the reason, George hadn’t seen fit to haul Norman to a halt, back then. Which was why I was here, wearing enough paint on my face to cover a dreadnought, and trussed up in a dress, making me next to useless if our plans hit a gravity well and I ended up having to fight my way out.

  “Elizabeth!” George steered me to a quiet corner, out of everyone’s earshot. “You paying attention? Because you need to. Once you break the seal, you’ve got forty-five minutes for it to stay viable. After that it breaks down into a completely harmless substance. And when you do your normal trick of jabbing him sufficiently into lighting up his cigar, try to time it appropriately.”

  You’ve had this stuff for two years and not used it? Don’t think you’re in any position to start giving orders on exactly what to do! While Jessica had a point, now wasn’t the time to make it. Therefore, I nodded and concentrated while he went on explaining what would happen.

  Hope your trust in this bloke isn’t about to be flushed into hard vacuum.

  I didn’t reply. Part of me wanted to dive under a desk and stay there for the decade, numbly shocked that I was in the middle of such a vile situation. But underneath that was a bubbling fury that wanted to see Norman get what he deserved for all the chaos and pain he’d caused.

  Taking the phial from George with cold fingers, I broke the seal and sprinkled my face, neck and wig with the clear substance. It felt a bit thicker and slimier than water, before apparently evaporating, till only a slight tightness on my skin remained. Now we were against the clock and I needed to get upstairs soonest.

  I remember every tiny detail of that journey. The jolting of the travellator seat… the crush in the lift as my escort of Red-Sashes tried to avoid getting too close… the way our small band suddenly expanded into a procession as we were joined by anxious mercs, desperate to know what was happening. The harsh stink of fear-stoked sweat. I seemed to be wrapped in an invisible film – oh wait, I was… Maybe this was a side effect, this muffling, distancing feeling.

  We approached the banqueting room, which was looking deceptively normal. The elaborately carved double doors were closed as usual with the customary Shadows still standing outside. How often I’d walked down this corridor taut with nerves or misery. Was it was a good sign that on this occasion I seemed to feel nothing at all? I wondered if – once these doors swallowed me up – I’d ever see these people pressing around me, again. Belatedly, I realised that if they hung around waiting for news, Norman would probably get way too twitchy.

  “Okay people,” I raised my voice over the hushed muttering, “I’m meeting the General to sort all this out. He’s promised me safe passage. Please, go back to your rooms. Your tasks. Soon as we have fixed this, I’ll let you know. My word.”

  Amid the patter of called encouragement, some suicidal girl yelled, “Make him pay for those dogs, Miss!”

  I nodded to the Shadows. Faces blanker than null-space, they opened the doors. And taking a deep breath, I walked into the banqueting room where Norman and I’d had our last, disastrous encounter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

  My heart was thudding so hard, everyone could surely hear it as I entered the room.

  And there he was, sitting at his usual place at the table, with his aides clustered around him including David. The Shadows were in their customary positions. Just as if everything was normal.

  Norman jumped up and rushed towards me.

  “Sir… General,” David’s fellow aide, Peter, protested, “we haven’t swept her. She could be carrying anything.”

  Norman just waved in the guard’s direction, while his gaze stayed fixed on me. “Slam it shut.” His smile broke my heart. “This is my daughter. My Lizbeth.”

  I can close my eyes, even after all these years, and describe every detail. The way his hair fell across his forehead… a small fold on his collar… a smear of ash across the fourth button of his tunic… the smell of brandy on his breath…

  When it all blurred. Tears were running
down my face.

  Jessica was screaming insults. Telling me to pull it together. That I hated him. That he deserved to die for all the terrible things he’d done. And I knew she was right – I did.

  But it was me having to do it, because that long streak of uselessness, George, didn’t have the guts for the job.

  And then, Norman had me in his arms. Squeezing the life out of me in one of his bear hugs as I sobbed against his chest, while I realised it wasn’t so terrible being hugged by big Daddy Bear, after all. All my plans to reach up and put my arms around his neck – which I never normally did when he enfolded me – were washed away in my grief. Not that it mattered.

  He kissed my tear-drenched face and held his cheek against mine. “Don’t you cry. It always breaks my heart, darling girl.” His voice rumbled through my body as I hugged him with all my strength.

  “I love you!” And it was true. The numbness that had blanketed me throughout the whole dismal business of preparing for this moment was blasted away and I realised that despite what he’d done, part of me still loved him. But I had no choice. Because my love wasn’t enough to keep him sane. Or stop him killing me. Through my tears, I looked up to see he was also weeping.

  Maybe he’s also thinking how he must get rid of your sorry carcass, Lizzy.

  Maybe so. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. We’re too alike, him and me.

  If you don’t haul your wits out’ve that black hole you’ve crawled into, I’m going to give you such a headache, Elizabeth Sarah Jane Violet Wright!

  Which was when I realised if I really wanted to die, all I had to do was to step away from him before making sure that the stuff coating my hands and face had been transferred onto Norman’s skin. Because sooner or later, he would see me dead, while furiously denying his guilt and weeping fit to break his heart.