by Ernest Filak
“Give me two spades,” one of the players demanded.
“Play spades and you win your games,” rhymed one of the miners watching the game.
“Pass,” one of the revolutionaries declared.
“How come you’re so assertive? Go all the way!”
The third one threw in a set of shoelaces.
“I’m in.”
“What the fuck is this shit?” the banker protested. “Why would anyone need this shit?”
“What sh… shhh… shit?” the owner of the shoelaces stammered. “It’s a real marvel. And still stinking, straight from the chief’s legs.”
“Well, if you’ve nicked them off the boss himself, there you go,” the banker changed his mind about the value of the black shoelaces. “You should have said from the start.”
The chief of the medical ward wasn’t very popular because he ordered enemas all too often. It didn’t matter whether you had a headache or smashed fingers. The cure was always the same. It might have been effective with the soldiers who were simulating but for those of us who had been through a lot it was especially humiliating. Any prank aimed at the medic in charge was praiseworthy.
“How is it going?” I asked.
“Nothing special,” one of the revolutionaries answered. “Two years, suspended.”
“What do you mean two years?” I didn’t fully understand him.
“Two years sentence. I made a deal with the prosecutor. First he wanted three years but since I have a clean record I got a suspended sentence,” he explained proudly.
“You lucky man,” the fourth played said. “He gave me a year, but doing time in jail, no discussion. Asshole. My cards are shit,” he threw his cards on the table.
“You must have done stuff,” the banker figured out.
“Little things,” the man admitted. “Mistakes of my youth.”
“Don’t fret, buddy,” somebody with a strong worker’s accent said. “You gonna be alright in the can. You’ll get a bowl and a bite on time. Nobody ain’t sending you to hard work. Am I right or not?”
“Yup, you’re right,” others agreed.
“I’s better than slaving your ass off in a factory, three shifts,” the worker said.
There was silence for a while.
“What you looking at? Give me something,” the banker asked the fourth player.
“But I have. Not enough?”
“And what is this junk you’ve put here? You think a rusty door handle is enough? This one here gave me the boss’s shoelaces – just right to hang yourself with. A moment passes and before they know it you’re in the better world. You can stick that handle up your ass, if you ask me.”
“All right then,” the player unwillingly fished a scalpel blade out of his pocket. “Let me raise the stakes.”
There were whistles of approval everywhere in the room. The stakes of the game were high now. The crowd surrounded the players, covering the CCTV cameras. I didn’t feel like watching the game. I had already lost everything I had. I was better off not tempting fate.
“Have they updated the survivors’ list?” I asked.
“They haven’t found anybody for two days,” one of the men watching the game said. “I hear they are collecting Devourer remains and getting ready to depart.”
This was interesting news. The only plus of the present situation was the chance of leaving the system.
“Who’s got the list?”
Somebody handed me an electronic paper card. I scanned the news headlines. The press section of the Sixth Fleet were doing their best to engage people’s interest. Splashed on the first page was the photo of the holovision star, Lara Lock. Apparently, she has changed her job and took part in a porn movie. Access to the file with the recording was restricted and you had to pay serious cash to see it. I didn’t think Ingrid would be willing to help me break the access code this time.
I moved to the survivors’ list. A few positions still featured NU – Name Unknown. I was looking for a specific name. There it was! Position two hundred and three: Theodore Schmitt. What a relief! He made it too. Just above him I spotted Andy Gall, which wasn’t good news at all. I felt ashamed that I didn’t really know Sunshine’s name details; although since we were all in the same place, she probably managed to save her head in this mess too.
The list wasn’t long. There were six hundred and sixty-six names on it. I didn’t think this was supposed to change. The Aliens were particularly meticulous and they had had enough time to comb through the whole system. Of course, nobody talked about anything else than their arrival. There were lots of comments and analyses – from scientific to religious nonsense. To read all that was a complete waste of time.
“Hello everyone,” a man wearing an elegant suit with an artificial smile plastered to his face appeared in the room.
“What does this one want?” somebody growled quietly enough for the man not to hear.
“Shut up!” a miner quieted his down. “He’s a lawyer. Better not to mess up with him.”
The lawyer looked around the room. He nodded to somebody in the crowd and walked up to a free table. He took a thick file of documents out of his brown leather bag. I felt hot all over. On the very top of the file there was my name written in large black capitals. There was nowhere to run. Besides, sooner or later I would have to face him anyway.
“Pavel Tsenre,” the lawyer called out.
“That’s me,” I said. Everybody moved away from me in an instant as if I was a leper.
“Please,” he pointed to an empty seat across the table.
I sat down reluctantly. Before the lawyer focused solely on my case, he noticed a revolutionary who was hiding behind somebody else’s back.
“Mr Santos!”
The man stepped forward.
“I have some good news for you. Your suspended sentence of three years has been confirmed by the judge. I’ve just got notice.”
“Thanks,” the revolutionary sighed with relief. He then turned to the other players and said quietly, “This is what I call good luck. The next round’s on me.”
The lawyer wasn’t much older than me. He looked as if it was his first assignment after graduation. A man like that might still be willing to fight for low sentences for his clients. Maybe I would be lucky too?
“It’s bad,” he said bluntly.
“I never took the side of the Uroboros separatists,” I remarked. I had gotten tips from my predecessors about what I should say in my defense. “In this case the unionist movement supported the Earth’s authority. Military resistance is a sign of civic opposition in this case.”
“It’s true,” the lawyer said. “But there are other circumstances that destroy this line of defense.”
“What circumstances?” His legalese was driving me crazy.
“I’m thinking of your participation in events that are widely known as the Sonic Massacre.” After he said that silence fell. There was nobody in the room who hadn’t heard about it. All because of these fucking propaganda movies.
The lawyer waited for my response but since it wasn’t coming he carried on.
“Please mind that Bio&Sonic signed a legally-binding trade contract with Uroboros. Your participation in an act opposing this fact cannot be interpreted as a greater necessity because the Kingdom was created a long time after that.”
“So I’m fucked,” I moaned.
“To make matters worse, you have also violated the conditions of your parole.”
“What parole?” I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Unfortunately for you, two months earlier the verdict in the case of InCorporation suing you for copyright theft became final.” I bet the lawyer was intrigued by my case.
“I don’t know anything about this,” I said but it was a lame excuse.
“Your family had been informed. Their proxy said they would not appeal.”
I didn’t find this in the least bit surprising. My folks would prefer to spend their money in a h
undred different ways than on me, and a lawyer could drain their pockets. It was much better to put your head in the sand and leave your son to his own devices.
I could hear some muffled conversations from people in the room. If only we could have this meeting somewhere more discreet. I felt especially humiliated in front of all these curious onlookers. In small communities scattered all over the universe, unwritten law said the cost of legal services would be paid for by the community from which the accused came from. This was not the case with all sorts of outsiders, such as pedophiles, murderers and infamous thieves. I really wanted for this conversation to be over.
“What do you suggest?”
The man in a suit scratched his chin.
“The Sonic Massacre is a big deal. The proof gathered doesn’t allow for a free interpretation of the facts. Recordings of fighting on HES Fury have also been recovered,” one of the onlookers whistled, “and what can be seen qualifies as re-offending. I guess five years is a reasonable offer.”
“Five years in suspension?” I asked to be sure.
“Not in suspension, but in prison and maximum-security at that. After all, you dealt with weapons.”
I felt hot all over.
“There is no other way out?”
“There always is, but it’s costly,” he explained. “If you had the funds we could appeal and call in our own experts. We could prolong the case for a few years.”
Of course. Problem was I didn’t have two cents to rub together. I didn’t have any sponsors and, knowing Mathilda Hari’s attitude to myself, I couldn’t count on the unionists to step forward with their own money. The revolutionary forces had been broken up. I didn’t know who to turn to for help.
“There is one more option,” the lawyer said.
“Is there?”
“We could apply to have the verdict changed for service in the Marines. Most of those present here will do it. Sooner or later,” he added.
“Why are you so sure?”
He leaned in his chair comfortably and looked somewhere behind my back.
“It’s standard procedure,” he explained. “People who know their guns and have verdicts hanging over their heads are the best candidates for recruitment. What is better? To sit in the pen with no prospects for a job, or to be recruited and get an extra pension? Even those who have suspended sentences will eventually end up in recruiting points.”
I assumed that revolution fighters could count on unionists’ support. I didn’t say it out loud, though. A smart move given that somebody’s heavy hand just landed on my shoulder. I looked up to see its owner. My heartbeat speeded up and I couldn’t say a word. I stood up slowly.
In front of me stood an officer flanked by two gendarmerie soldiers. They were holding batons, whose effectiveness I once had a chance to familiarize myself with. The officer’s escort looked around scanning the growing crowd. This was the first time I saw gendarmes in a medical ward. Somebody must have really gotten under their skin. And miners were a feisty crowd. One of the men was wrapping a belt around his fist. A scalpel blade flashed in the hands of the other one. It was an explosive mixture.
The lawyer could see it too. He tried to ease the tension away.
“How can I help you?” he asked the officer. “I’ve been taking care of patients in this ward but I know nothing of a change of accommodation of any of my charges.”
The officer with elegant epaulettes of a major didn’t pay any attention to the lawyer. He spoke directly to me.
“How are you? We need to talk.”
His uniform was smart and brand new. There were lots of ribbons on his chest. The ideal picture was spoilt only by a white cross on his head and the number 128 tattooed on his forehead. And I naively thought nothing was going to surprise me anymore. Not only me. I saw Ingrid in my field of vision.
“Well, honey, somebody has just screwed us real well,” I said to her in my mind.
Instead of an answer I saw a red dot on Theodore’s forehead. Oh, yes. I was glad I wasn’t holding the gun. I wouldn’t hesitate before pulling the trigger.
I didn’t know if this was my ill will that pushed the scales or if the artificial intelligence broke the last condition. She tried not to take control over my body. After all, she was only a guest in it. This time we were unanimous, though. It was like a flash. Without signaling our intentions we threw a right jab. From the heart. Nobody was even able to react. Time stood still. Theodore took the swing, leaned back and landed on his back. His shoe size was forty-two. The right shoe remained on the floor and the left one followed its owner.
One of the sergeants raised his baton. The tension that had been accumulating in me for weeks could finally find its release. I jumped up with a kick that landed on his beer belly. He squeaked like a little pig. After that I didn’t control the events anymore. Ingrid was good enough at that. And the other patients joined with glee. There were stools and legs broken off tables being swung all over the place. Somebody overeager plucked the holovision set off the wall. He stood there with the set raised over his head, not knowing what to do with it. There were no active targets anywhere anymore.
Ingrid had a specific sense of humor. A score board appeared over the notice board. It said Bastards of Hades vs. Fleet Gendarmerie 3:0. The lawyer didn’t matter anymore. He hadn’t been knocked down, only mangled a bit. He crawled on his arms and knees, collecting crumpled cards off the floor.
The Bastards’ joy didn’t last long, just a few seconds, after which the doors slammed open and the rest of the furious gendarmes ran through the hall. It was time for round two. I looked forward to a beautiful fight.
Chapter XVI
Two weeks later.
I had had enough time for reflection. Well, not only that. I spent the time in isolation really well. I slept it off. I killed time doing exercise. My artificial intelligence helped me a bit here. We argued, exchanged information, or rather she passed it on to me. And of course we had sex. But, like all good things, this time came to an end. For me, this moment was marked by a sound signal and the warden’s voice.
“Stand up and get ready for inspection.”
This was not the first time I was going through the procedure. I stood with my legs spread wide in front of a wall and propped my hands against two spots especially designated for that purpose. I looked down at the floor. Then came the unpleasant sound of an electric shock baton being slid out. I didn’t move an inch. I didn’t want to feel the electrodes probing my body and the electric charge ever again. This shit had already messed me up once. Ingrid also had a headache for a long time and didn’t feel like doing anything. So I stood there obeying all the procedures.
I was wondering who was on duty today. It was Ben who treated me to the electric charge, for which he got his payback. I didn’t do anything. I even tried to convince Ingrid to let it go and not take revenge. I glanced towards the exit. It was all quiet.
“Don’t even budge!” I can hear a roar that calls me to order.
The baton keeps itching the hands of the warden. He’s going to use it for sure.
“Calm down,” I can hear a new voice. “Can I come in?”
That’s a surprise. Since when do they ask my opinion?
“You can’t get inside without a thorough inspection,” the warden warns the man. He must be new. This is the first time I hear him.
“I’ll take my chances.”
The warden doesn’t say anything, which means the newly arrived has the required permits. The door opens wider and into my kingdom walks my former buddy Theodore. This time he isn’t wearing his dress uniform, just his regular field. He acts casual. The door bolts shut and we are left alone. I don’t change my position and wait for his permission.
“Stop playing the fool,” he says. “I’m much worse off in all this.”
Inside I’d have to agree with him. A jaw broken in a few places is not a joke. You can still see the scars from all the wire.
“You pissed me off,” I sit o
n my cot.
“Pavel, I want to help you.”
“To hell with your help!” I shout at him. “I got five years. And it all began with the damned research project. Why the fuck did I ever agree to this in the first place? They say the Marines never leave their own behind, and what? Shit!”
“They had their orders.”
“Fuck their orders,” I get carried away. “How many times have I looked death in the eye? How many? And I came here to do my practice. And you, after all we’ve been through, emerge in that fancy uniform of yours. A big fat Mr. Major. You fucked me easy. Congratulations!”
“That’s life!” now he raises his voice as well. “Nobody promised that it would be easy. How many times have I saved your ass?”
We stop for a moment, both digesting the anger. I am curious about one thing.
“Theodore?”
“What?”
“How did Sunshine take all these revelations? As far as I remember, she hates the uniforms. Has anything changed here?”
“No, nothing,” he says calmly. “Fortunately, she doesn’t have your strength in her hands. I didn’t even feel it when she fucking hit me.”
He walks up closer to me.
“Have you been wearing a uniform long?” I ask.
“I rarely have a chance to wear it. I work mainly out in the field.” I patiently wait for the answer. “Fifteen years.”
“Is the whole story of your life a façade?”
“No. A lie should include as much truth as possible to work.”
“Well,” I’m full of doubt here.
“Pavel, I am who I am. I won’t change that. You know me. If or what kind of uniform I wear doesn’t really matter,” he says and waits for my reaction.
“Did Sunshine buy it?” I ask cynically.
“Not at the beginning,” he admits.
“What changed her mind?”
“I asked her to marry me.”
That was quite an ace up his sleeve. Sunshine was madly in love with him.
“What do you suggest?” It was time to get to the point.
“You’ll become a secret agent in my department.”
