“I don't see a bounty for this one on here.”
“It's a private deal.” Kestral's expression betrayed nothing, and his tone remained absolute chill.
“I may have to run this up the ladder,” the man began to say but trailed off when Kestral slapped his palm against the data scanner.
“When they pay you to think through everyone else's business, you let me know. A private deal is a private deal. I have access. Now let me in.”
“Yes, sir,” the man said. He swallowed convulsively and passed back Kestral's ID card. “My apologies, sir.”
With that Kestral pocketed his ID then took Shaw by the arm and got it moving. He ignored the other security guards as though they didn't even exist. The central dome scene laid out much like the external domes only it disguised an enormous city. The size impressed Shaw, and he was hard-pressed not to try and scope it all out and take it in. A distant part of his mind wanted to catalog the streets, the buildings, even the businesses listed. Some of them weren't supposed to exist anymore. At least two he recognized had been closed down on earth for corruption.
Why did it not surprise him that they had found a fresh start beyond the realms of Earth Prime?
“You’re a prisoner,” Kestral muttered out of the side of his mouth. “Try to look a little less pleased about what you're seeing.”
Suppressing the desire to laugh, Shaw focused his attention ahead. Kestral seemed to know exactly where he was going as he weaved his way through the buildings. Unlike the external domes though the streets here weren't clogged, in fact they seemed almost too orderly. While the scum of the universe might visit the external domes to do their business, the internal dome was controlled, and well patrolled.
“Starting to get a bad feeling about this,” Shaw quoted his favorite set of films from when he was a kid.
“Just now?” The bounty hunter shook his head.” I thought you had better instincts.”
Pity the man didn't catch the reference. “How much farther?”
“Two blocks, if Byron's information is correct.” However it wasn't just Byron's information they were going off of. Nina had done her best to reconstruct her escape from the central dome. Whatever prisoners the Order was holding here, were their so-called ‘success stories’ and by success they meant totally eradicated personality, open for new imprinting. As Byron had tried to explain to them on more than one occasion, the applications were endless.
Endless applications or not, it didn't sit well with Shaw that anything of the kind existed. Humans had to be able to trust one thing about themselves and it was that they didn't change. Being able to erase a personality, leave it blank for imprinting or worse just leave it blank for slavery… It should never be allowed to stand.
A flash of red in a glowing symbol on the edge of a street sign at a corner told him they were in the right place. The Order of the IV kept a low profile, apparently, even in a place like the Port of York.
Though Kestral kept a grip on his arm, it lightened as they drew closer to their destination. While their goal on Purgatory had been to take down the medical facility where the treatments were performed, their goal at the port of York was a little more complex. They didn’t know how many of the Order might be waiting for them on the inside, worse they didn't know how many people like Nina they were going to find. Worse still they couldn't save them all. No plan they been able to concoct in the days leading up to the assault ended with them being able to perform the rescue and succeed at their mission at the same time.
It had been Nina who had made the hard call, suggesting that saving them shouldn't be the goal. Those like her who'd been stuck at the Port of York were already gone. Nothing could undo what had been done to them. There was no saving them. It was a harsh pill to swallow, but one they had to if they plan to stop the operation entirely.
Byron reminded them the data they destroyed on Purgatory would only be piecemeal available at the Port of York, the most basic of information with regards to each individual who had successfully completed their treatment. The best they could hope for was to find bank account information. No operation could run without funds. Their mission had two purposes—get their banking information so they could trace their money, and shut down the operation in the middle of the Port of York.
Shaw had added a slight caveat to that plan, one he had only shared with Kestral. The bounty hunter appreciated the idea enough to play along.
Inside the facility, four guards greeted them. Each took a look at Shaw then turned their attention to Kestral.
“Special delivery from the Wynn Operation on Purgatory.” He gave Shaw a shove forward.
“He still armed,” one of the guards complained, but a technician working at the desk had risen as soon as Kestral mentioned Purgatory. He hurried over and stared at Shaw. While the man walked around him in a circle, Shaw refused to look at him, keeping a blank gaze focused on the far wall. Their plan was the literal equivalent of poking someone in the eye then tapping them on the shoulder and pretending that the person needed to them had run away. It was a schoolyard prank.
“We've received no word from Purgatory about a special delivery.” The technician’s voice held notes of freakish excitement. “However this specimen is in prime health. When did he complete his last treatment?”
“They said he was ready to go when I picked up the package.” Kestral shrugged, then added, “I brought the details with me.”
He passed over a simple data drive they'd managed to beat out of their Order of the IV representative currently occupying a very uncomfortable storage container secured in the hold aboard the Gilly.
The technician accepted the drive with an almost audible sound of glee. “Go ahead and take him to the staging floor,” the technician said as he retreated to his desk then slotted the drive into their system. “I’ll this get his data set uploaded and ready to go.”
Kestral took Shaw's arm once more before he said with a note of warning, “I expect to be paid before he goes anywhere.”
The technician blinked in surprise. “You weren’t paid before they sent you here?”
“Payment on delivery, assurance that he would get here. Not that he's the best company in the world. He pretty much stares at a wall day.” Kestral seemed to relish his role. “I've had more interesting conversations with a rock. So, my money or we go.”
Like most bureaucrats, the technician’s face reflected his irritation as he was forced away from his current task. As they'd hoped prior to entry, the technician switched from one data computer to a different one, leaving their doctored drive plugged into the previous unit. He was already downloading the files they preset and coded. Dragging Shaw with him, Kestral approached the desk.
“Account number?” the technician demanded.
Kestral provided him with the numbers from memory.
Technician typed in a few more pieces of data then glanced over and said, “Standard delivery fee?”
They had discussed this part, but Shaw trusted Kestral to be able to handle a financial transaction when it came to collecting his fees. “Add ten percent because it was a express delivery.”
The technician didn't even ask for proof, he just initiated the transaction. A moment later, Shaw's datalink vibrated against his wrist. The Gilly had received the banking information. Zed would've notified Tika, who would in turn then put Byron to work tracking down there banking information based on the transaction IDs.
So far, so good. The technician then pointed toward the bank of lifts.
“Always a pleasure doing business with you,” Kestral said as he turned away and gave Shaw a slight shove toward the guards. With that, the bounty hunter strode out, leaving Shaw to their mercies.
Now came the tricky part of the plan. They were counting on them taking Shaw to where they stored the patients. They were also counting on them not taking his weapons. The two guards fell in on either side of him, then took his arms and dragged him over to the lift as the doors slid open. Inst
ead of entering with him, they shoved him inside. He gave no show of resistance and didn't even try to save himself when he banged against the far wall. The impact was going to leave a bruise, but he simply straightened himself then stood staring at the wall. He didn't even turn around. As far as he was concerned, if someone wiped his mind and took away his personality, why would they have any sense of self-preservation? Instead of the men joining him in the lift, the door slid closed and the elevator began moving without any accompaniment. Shaw glanced to his left then to his right without moving his head.
They’d dumped him into the lift and it began its ascent to deliver him right where he wanted to go without any guards to worry about.
One note he needed to add to his census files about the colonies of Earth Prime—they needed to watch more movies and read more books. Only the most arrogant of fools would have fallen for their ridiculous plan.
“Release,” he murmured to his wrist restraints. They opened and fell to floor.
Adjusting his hat, Shaw freed both weapons from their holsters. When the doors opened, he was armed and ready. Stepping out onto the floor, he experienced a real sensation of fear for the first time since undertaking the mission that sent him hurtling away from Earth Prime.
According to Byron, there were just a few successful patient cases waiting in this hospital. But the floor he’d stepped out onto seemed to be like a scene straight out of Dante’s Hell. Throughout the room, crowded together like cattle, were hundreds of men and women in similar states of malnutrition and pallor as Nina had been when she came to them.
Shaw glanced from one sightless set of eyes to the next. They barely even acknowledged that he was there, only shifting away as he began walking amongst them. They acted more like prey animals do when a dog runs barking along the edge of the field. The cattle didn't particularly care about the dog, but they would wander away from the disturbance.
Barely restrained violence surged through him, as he continued his deliberate search of the floor. Were they all just shoved up here, waiting? Waiting for what? Pausing at one woman who looked like she could be somebody's grandmother, right down to the deep grooved wrinkles on her face to the long strands of unkempt silver hair, Shaw made a promise to himself. He would find every single one of the sons of bitches behind this particular project then put them down. Speaking of which, Byron had a lot to answer for… How many were really here?
Taking a deep breath, he tried to clear his head and get his focus back. It wouldn't do anyone any good if he lost his cool right then and there. Besides which, no matter how much fury he felt when looking on these poor souls he couldn't blame them any more than he could blame the bobcat hunting the cattle. The cattle weren’t at fault, and the bobcat? Well, it was in its nature. Some people were just assholes.
Didn’t mean he had to forgive them either.
Cutting left, he began making a systematic sweep of the floor. When his datalink signaled it had been twenty minutes since he departed the ground floor, he had to accept the floor was simply a holding pen. Whoever these people used to be, or whatever the Order had planned for them, they’d stocked them in this room to await their final fate. With only ten minutes left on the clock, he pivoted to return toward the lift. On his way, he paused at each individual, looking for signs of life, signs of personality… Signs of anything.
Nina managed to hold onto her sense of self, albeit only a small sliver, but it was still there enough for her to fight for her survival. Yet each person that he paused to study showed no recognition, nothing, not even a twitch.
Testing a theory, he grabbed the arm of one man who staring at a wall then pressed the mouth of the pistol to his forehead. The man's pulse didn't change. Cocking the weapon as though prepping it for fire he waited.
Still no change.
Releasing the gentleman, he slid his pistol away. He had no damn time, they couldn’t leave the building standing and these empty-eyed shells were people. Gritting his teeth, he sent a message to Zed to relay to Byron. The answer came swiftly.
Those are successful treatments. Nothing can be done for them.
Did he believe him or not?
How can you be sure?
The clock continued to run down on him. If he planned to abort the mission, he needed to do it now.
If anything of who they were remained, they wouldn’t be there. They’re blank, check for feeding kit attached at waist—it provides nutrients, removes waste. They aren’t human anymore.
Fucking bastards. They took everything that made these people human and stripped it all away. Shaw checked the man before him, and found the device.
“I’m sorry,” he told the shell, and nothing flickered in the man’s eyes. “I’m truly sorry.”
If only he had more time… He removed an incendiary device from inside his duster. Hopefully, he’d brought enough. Setting the explosives carefully around the floor he wanted to apologize to them, give them some measure of peace. The only thing he could say, he could only say to himself. Not up for dealing with it at the moment, he just stuffed it in the box slammed the lid shut and ignored it.
At the five-minute mark, his datalink signaled another warning. Shaw made it back to the lift then sent the command signal. The lights all over the building began to flicker as the program they’d installed began to inflict its damage. The numbers on the display scrolled as the lift rose swiftly to his floor. The doors chimed open, and he stepped inside.
He slid a shotgun out from underneath the duster. Choosing the button for the ground floor, he waited patiently. At the one minute mark his datalink sent another warning as the lift doors opened to the ground floor. Half the security guards were still where they’d been when he'd first boarded, most chatting to each other and barely paying attention.
The poor technician who'd made the payment to Kestral, however, looked like he was ready to put a fist through the screen in front of him. The program they'd installed was doing its job—a worm designed to eat away through all of their systems, shut down their security, and open the central dome allowing all the other domes access.
They exploited the vulnerability of a networked system. Raising the shotgun, Shaw strode out. He made it halfway across the lobby before the security guards even noticed him. The first one to reach for his weapon took a stun blast to the chest, as did the second, then the third. Pointing his weapon at the last two remaining standing, he said quite calmly “You have sixty seconds to evacuate. You can waste that time getting shot or you can get the hell out of here.”
Fortunately for them, they believed him. He continued striding out of the building amidst all those running and fleeing the area to escape. Kestral leaned against a wall opposite the building as he came out. Shaw spotted him immediately. Kestral motioned with a single finger upward, and Shaw glanced at the sign to find his face shining down at him. Nudging a Stetson lower Shaw let the shotgun disappear to the folds of his duster then followed Kestral toward an exit.
“They know we’re coming,” Kestral reminded him in a conversational tone.
Shaw didn’t let the wanted poster bother him. Not when they had people to hunt down, and at this point people to kill.
“Then let’s not be late.”
* * *
“Where to next?” Tika’s quiet voice interrupted Shaw’s musings as he stared at the star charts.
“Did you draw the short straw?” he asked without glancing over his shoulder.
“No,” she elongated the single syllable enough he knew she lied, then added, “They nominated me. Kestral felt I was the least likely to get shot.”
“They weren’t wrong.” Shaw blew out a breath, then entered the last of the coordinates into the nav computer. It would calculate their best route to the destination based on the bank transfers. The destruction of the facility in the central dome at the Port of York had sent a distress call, one Zed still tracked. Until they saw where that signal went, they might be heading in the wrong direction.
“Di
d it go that badly?” She slid into her preferred seat, and pulled a knee up to her chest to hug it. “The mission?”
“They have hundreds, not a few dozen, and I just made sure they had none.” Draining as much emotion from that wound as he could, he fought to keep his tone level. “You tell me.”
She made no pretense of trying to comfort him. “That’s horrible.”
“Pretty much. Between Byron and Zed, though, we have a new location.” He could barely say the first’s name and the second had registered three complaints with how Byron searched for the information and tracked every transmission the wealthy punk made.
“He feels badly, but not bad enough. It rings more like guilt for being so stupid he didn’t know it was going on than guilt for having participated.”
Agreed, but he didn’t say anything. “At least he’s still working with us.”
“Trying to convince me or yourself?”
Shaw allowed her a faint smile. “I don’t know. Is it working on either of us?”
“Not really, no.” Her expression gentled. “You did the right thing.”
“I just killed a few hundred strangers. I put them out of their misery. Not sure whether it was the right thing or not yet. Maybe only history will tell us.”
“You should get some rest,” she told him. “I made you food, and had Zed let me into your quarters.” That was new. He gave her a warning look, but she didn’t seem impressed. “Go eat and get some sleep. I can sit watch for you up here. I’m getting rather good at sitting in your chair and looking like I know what I’m doing.”
Yes, she was.
“I’m going to change the codes on my quarters.” Only fair to warn her. Standing, he ignored the nagging aches in his bones. “Wake me an hour before we’re scheduled to our destination.”
“Where are we going?”
“Planet called Ansalon. No EA designation.”
Space Cowboy Survival Guide Page 21
