by Jeff Walsh
“Move.”
“Not very friendly,” Bartl said. “I'll have to report you to Sir Halen. He and I go way back you know?”
“You do that Bartl,” the soldier replied.
Genny was the first to step out from the pod. Her eyes darted everywhere as she attempted to take the scene in front of her.
The docking bay was massive. She first noticed a half dozen other ships, each larger than the Platnium. Three of the ships were at differing stages of assembly or were quite possibly being disassembled. Parts and machinery she couldn't fathom uses for were strewn about. Dozens of workers operated varying machines and carried tools she'd never seen.
Across the far wall were large metal crates stacked one atop the other. Next to the crates were tall and bulky robotic figures. A seat and what she guessed to be operating controls rested within the torso. High above were girders and large steel claws that hung from some sort of machinery. Cables and wires stretched in every direction, while others were bundled and wound tightly together. Large lighting fixtures were evenly distributed and inset across the ceiling.
Here and there, almost at random, were work stations with panels full of lights and digital movements, each of which were nestled into the walls. By her best estimate there were at least a couple hundred workers moving about.
Over all the noise and bustle a word caught Genny's attention, “Platnium IV.”
She strode forward about dozen steps forward and a soldier reached up to halt her movement. She looked to the guard, and although highly obscured by a darkened face-shield, she could barely make out a set of eyes, which looked almost reptilian.
Attempting to feign obliviousness she listened intently, barely able to pick up phrases.
“Platnium IV locked...aboard...bay nine.” She heard.
Anthony stepped free from the pod and his eyes widened.
“Whoa,” he said.
“It's a bit much to take in,” Genny said.
“I'd say,” he responded and joined Genny.
From within the pod came a loud commanding voice, “Out of the chair and out of the pod Bartl. I have no problem pulse shocking you into the next varnec and dragging you out.”
“I'm going; I'm going,” Bartl said.
A few seconds later Bartl appeared at the pod doorway. He stretched for a moment and yawned.
“Out,” the solider said.
He kicked forward into Bartl's back.
Bartl stumbled forward, but didn't fall. He snapped his head back and peered at the soldier who kicked him.
“Alright,” he said quietly and nodded. “That's one for you.”
“Move,” the soldier said.
He joined Genny and Anthony and the two noticed he'd barely looked around. His face almost looked bored.
“Do this a lot?” Anthony asked.
“Enough,” Bartl replied.
“No talking,” one of the soldiers commanded.
“Does that go for everyone?” Bartl asked. “Or just us?”
The soldier stepped forward aggressively.
“Stand down,” came Sir Halen's voice.
The soldiers immediately parted and took formation; each stood shoulder to shoulder with the next.
A large, rather over weight, and slightly pink man walked toward the group. His attire was outlandishly gaudy. Gold ribbons curled and twisted across a bright blue vest. A pair of bright green trousers, which puffed out at the hips, hung down and ended just above a pair of gem studded shoes. Rings wrapped every finger. Necklaces and pendants hung from his neck. Draped over his form was a lavish robe comprised of a multitude of colors. Atop his head were large curls of yellow hair. Every movement, every gesture, was dramatic and over done.
“Bartl,” Sir Halen announced. “We meet again.”
“Halen” Bartl replied.
“Sir.” He corrected. “I've not worked for my title only to have a petty criminal think he can address me with such informality.”
“Of course,” Bartl said. “I merely forgot my place amongst such highly esteemed Prime.”
“Your sarcasm is not missed,” Sir Halen said. “No matter how flatly you deliver it.”
“I'll try harder,” Bartl said.
“You test me and so early,” Sir Halen said. “We could just as easily take this to sector eight. Have your friends seen someone go through a mind scalp yet?”
Bartl didn't even flinch.
“This is your show,” he said. “High Council Chamber, science lab, lavatory, they're all fine with me.”
“Well,” Sir Halen said. “Out of respect to our freshly inducted space dwellers,” he looked to Genny and Anthony, “I've chosen to keep this as friendly as possible.
“Although,” he looked back to Bartl. “My patience only goes so far.”
“To the High Council Chamber it is,” Bartl announced and stepped forward.
A soldier broke from the line and slammed the stock of his rifle into Bartl's midsection.
Bartl curled over for a moment. He righted himself and looked to the soldier. He watched as the soldier winked at him through the darkened visor.
“That's two for you,” he said.
A set of docking bay doors slid open and a new group of soldiers entered. These were dressed distinctly different than the rest. Each wore a crimson vac-suit that had an emblem embossed on the right side of the chest. Black helmets stretched down and over their head, past their neck, and ended in a set of pauldrons. From their back hung crimson cloaks that nearly reached the floor. In their left hand they carried a golden staff, the top of which flared out into an elongated sphere.
“Your own personal guards,” Bartl said. “We are getting the luxury treatment.”
“Escort these three to D4-A,” Sir Halen commanded. “Do not leave them alone in the room.
“Have four from your group stay posted outside the door while you and the remaining watch these three within.” He turned and addressed one of the soldiers.
Sir Halen turned back to his guard, “Once inside, seal the doors using a level eight protocol.”
“Nervous?” Bartl asked.
“Experienced,” Sir Halen answered.
With that Sir Halen reached out and slammed a hood down and over Bartl's head. A split second later Bartl felt it pull tight around his neck. He could still breathe, but was unable to see anything.
He felt someone reach up and touch his shoulder.
“I've got you,” he heard Genny say.
The three, along with the large pack of soldiers and guards, wandered through the corridors of the Imperium. They came to a pair of doors and one of the guards reached up and pressed the back of his hand to a panel. A moment later the doors slid open.
“Step inside,” one of the soldiers said.
“Elevator?” Bartl whispered.
“I think so,” Genny answered.
The entire entourage stepped in with the trio surrounded at the center. The same guard who accessed the elevator worked a series of motions across a touch-pad within the elevator. A moment later the doors shut and they felt the floor jostle, but only for a moment. The doors opened revealing a new long corridor, at the end of which were a very elaborate and ornate set of doors.
As the group was escorted down the corridor Anthony peered down a couple turn-offs.
“Eyes forward,” one of the soldiers commanded.
He snapped his gaze back to the door.
As they reached the doorway, one of the soldiers stepped forward and opened it. Inside was a long highly polished table around which were finely crafted, and very comfortable looking chairs. From the walls hung banners with varying symbols and emblems.
Six of Sir Halen's personal guard broke off from the rest and escorted the three into the room. Four remained outside as ordered; the doors were shut once everyone was inside, at which point a very dull hum was heard. Two chairs were pulled out for Anthony and Genny. One of the guards motioned for them to sit. Two of the guards yanked a third cha
ir out and aggressively spun and forced Bartl into it.
“Don't forget the hood,” Bartl said as he raised his hands into the air and pointed at it.
One of the guards looked to the other who nodded. The guard reached down and yanked the hood free.
“Gah,” Bartl choked out. “Stuffy. Can I get a mint or something? My breath is horrible.”
The guards turned and spread out evenly around the room.
“No?” Bartl asked. “Gum?”
A slight hum was heard once more and the doors opened. Sir Halen stepped into the room.
“You always make an entrance,” Bartl said. “Right Sir Halen?” He over emphasized.
“You may leave us and attend to your prior duties,” Sir Halen said to his guard. “Command two of the remaining soldiers to enter and have the rest remain posted outside. Continue the level eight seal on the room.”
The guard nodded and moved toward the door. The rest followed suit. A moment later two soldiers stepped into the room and shut the doors. The dull hum was heard once more.
“Just stand guard at the door,” Sir Halen ordered. “That'll be fine.”
The two soldiers nodded.
“Now then,” Sir Halen said as he strode across the room taking the chair at the head of the table. “How about we get right to business.”
“This should be good,” Bartl said under his breath.
“Better than anything you could hope for,” Sir Halen replied.
“We'll see,” Bartl responded.
“First,” Sir Halen said. “That was quite the trick you two pulled, managing to get the jump on everyone, and even get off world before any big guns could arrive. A lot of people aren't happy with you two Bartl. But, as is the case with civilized people, not all things must end with a bang.”
“Where's the fun in that?” Bartl asked.
“Well,” Sir Halen answered. “How does this sound for fun? I've been authorized by an independent to offer fifteen billion jewles for each of the humans. Think of it as sort of a delivery payment.”
Bartl' eyebrows rose.
“However,” Sir Halen continued. “The deal grows sweeter still.”
“I'm listening,” Bartl said.
Genny and Anthony just looked at each other.
“Should you cooperate,” Sir Halen said. “I've been authorized by the Core to offer you something never before used. We can make your, substantial, list of bounties disappear.”
“Wow,” Bartl said. “That's a lot. I mean you guys don't even know half the stuff I've done.”
“For both you and Taam,” Sir Halen said.
Bartl quieted and shot a look to Sir Halen.
“With that kind of money,” Sir Halen continued. “And with your records wiped clean, you and your nephew would be able purchase a nice retirement planet somewhere on the outer rim of Osh.”
Sir Halen smiled. “A very luxurious sector,” he added. “We'd be neighbors.”
Bartl remained silent.
“Tell me,” Sir Halen said. “How long's it been since the two of you have seen Ash?”
“Everything,” Bartl said. “I mean everything is cleared. For both myself and Taam.”
“Of course,” Sir Halen replied.
“Wait,” Anthony said. “You can't just sell us.”
Genny just looked at Bartl.
“You three are the only humans in space,” Bartl said. “Only a handful of people even know you're out here. The Central Core could lock you away for your whole lives and no one would even know.”
“Oh really,” Anthony blurted out. “I guess you forgot to mention that on the pod.”
“Interesting,” Sir Halen said. “What else did he tell you on the pod?”
Anthony looked to Sir Halen and back to Bartl.
“It doesn't matter,” Anthony responded.
Sir Halen smiled.
“You are a witty race,” he said.
“So what'll it be Bartl?” Sir Halen asked. “You and yours tired of running yet?”
“We've been running a long time,” Bartl responded. “Long time. Longer than you've been in office,” he glanced at Sir Halen. “Taam and I have already discussed this; we think its time to stop.”
“Really?” Sir Halen questioned.
“Really,” Bartl answered.
“The wild Heezarians are tired of running?” Sir Halen asked. “Ready to settle down and rejoin civilization?”
“Running's only fun for so long,” Bartl replied. “And you know the true cost.”
Bartl dropped his eyes to the table top.
“Okay,” Sir Halen said, a slight reluctance in his voice. “I'll go along with this. I'll contact the Central Core and inform them you've agreed to our proposal.”
Sir Halen paused for a moment, then looked to Bartl, “Honestly, I'm a bit surprised I didn't think you'd cave so easily.”
“We both know you can't kill these folks,” Bartl said. “They need to be alive in order to claim Volja. That's what I told 'em on the pod. Taam and I had no intention of claiming Volja. We just wanted to make it to Earth before the rest of you. That was our real payday.”
“You sack of—” Anthony jumped to his feet.
“Anthony,” Genny blurted out.
She looked back to Bartl. “Are you serious?” She asked.
Bartl turned slightly and looked toward Genny. She locked eyes with him.
“Was that really it?” She asked. “Kidnap three of us just to grab an easy pay out?”
“Listen kid,” he answered. “Space isn't easy and your kind became valuable real fast.”
“So what was with all that other stuff?” Anthony asked. “You know the bit about getting our planet back, selling the core, was it all just a setup?”
Bartl turned away from the two and looked to Sir Halen.
“They get the royalty treatment,” he said. “Once the Core has Volja, and Taam and I have our money and our cleared records, we want you to return these three. Once you're in position we'll dephase Earth. Understand?”
“Unbelievable,” Anthony said. “It was all a setup.”
“What about Marcus?” Genny asked. “What did you do with Marcus?”
“Taam has him,” Bartl answered. “If this deal went south we had another buyer lined up for the last of you. Once I contact him he'll deliver Marcus to the Core. He'll be fine. You three will be back together soon enough.”
“You really got us,” Genny said. “Marcus said we'd probably look like fools. He said it from the start.”
She turned to Anthony. “We convinced him this was worth chasing. We talked him into this. But he was right, and we're just fools now.”
“Contact Central Core,” Bartl said to Sir Halen. “Let's get this over with.”
Sir Halen worked a console inset on the table. A screen dropped from the ceiling and covered the wall behind him.
A moment later an emblem, which Genny and Anthony assumed represented the Central Core, appeared.
The face of a green skinned man appeared. Behind him was the skyline of a city with vehicles flying around tall buildings, which stretched beyond the view of the camera.
“Sir Halen,” the man said.
A grouping of thin tentacles hung from the man's chin and shook with each word. The man stroked his bald head and ran his fingers around one of the two dark brown horns protruding from his head.
“I see you have the humans and Bartl Heezarian,” he stated.
“I do,” Sir Halen responded. “It appears we were wrong about Bartl sir.”
“Fantastic,” the man said. His tentacles wiggled at his excitement. “That is a very wise choice you've made today Mr. Heezarian.”
“Well,” Bartl said. “It just felt like the best way to say that you and all of the Central Core can suck on a goot until the pit pops.”
Bartl burst into laughter.
The man's skin grew dark and his eyes narrowed.
Sir Halen groaned in aggitation.
�
�I expected no less from you Bartl,” the green skinned man said through gritted teeth. “You know what comes next Sir Halen.”
The screen went black and Sir Halen motioned for the guards.
“Take him to section eight; the Attilian doesn't care if he's alive or dead,” Sir Halen said. “Have your fun. We'll get Taam just as easy and then you and your crew will get paid.”
Genny and Anthony just looked at each other.
One of the guards stepped forward.
Bartl was in a full blown laughing fit.
The guard raised his rifle and smacked Bartl across the back of the head.
He fell to one knee but kept laughing.
“Did you two see his face?” Bartl turned and looked to Genny and Anthony. “That was the Prime Viant, the ruler of the Central Core. His skin darkened. He must've been pissed.”
The guard raised his rifle once more, and this time with far more force, brought it down and across the back of Bartl's head.
Bartl dropped to his other knee and braced himself with his left arm. Blood dripped down his face and onto the floor. Genny took notice that it shifted colors: dark at first then as is rolled down his neck it took on an almost pink color. As it hit the floor it was nearly clear.
“Oh man,” Bartl exclaimed. “That was definitely worth it.”
“Just get him out of here,” Sir Halen said.
The other guard stepped forward and the two hoisted Bartl to his feet. They drug him across the room to the doors, which hummed and unsealed. The two guards drug Bartl out and the doors shut sealed again.
“Now then,” Sir Halen said. “What else would we expect from such scum?” He asked the two.
Sir Halen stood and strode across the room toward Genny and Anthony. He stopped for a moment behind Anthony and placed his hands gently over Anthony's shoulders.
“Unfortunate, really, but here we are,” he said.
A moment later Sir Halen pulled the chair next to Genny out and carefully sat. He leaned forward, arms at rest on the edge of the table, and turned to address them both.
“I believe that this, interaction, has left us at odds with one another,” he said. “Your first experience with those of us who travel the stars was, unfortunately, with the Heezarians. An unfortunate occurrence, although we did try to save you.”
