Hard Luck Hank: Screw the Galaxy

by Steven Campbell

  “So you figured I had access?” I asked.

  “Well, you’re Hank, right?” He laughed.

  Grever probably bought up all these drugs for next-to-nothing and now he was looking to use our tenuous connection to hide it when others couldn’t. Not a bad plan, that.

  Except I couldn’t remotely hide this much. They had given me a closet to use and I was going to put my Ontakian pistol in it.

  However.

  Jyonal had knocked the whole city unconscious when he got drunk. He had shaken the city to its foundations when he got high. What would happen if he went into drug withdrawal?

  It was eventually going to become pretty difficult to score a hit on Belvaille, and that might be bad for Jyonal—which might be very bad for all of us.

  But did he even go into withdrawal with his homemade body? I suppose I could ask him, but I didn’t want him to get upset.

  “I don’t have the room,” I said plainly. “No one does. Not in any of the protected containers.”

  Grever jumped with excitement.

  “Right, but I don’t need one of those high tech jars you all have. If they could scan for,” and he reached down and grabbed a drug, “Dysolinol at range, there wouldn’t be any drug dealers in the galaxy. Sure, they can scan it if they have it in their hand, but they can’t just zap waves out and know you’re smoking. These are the same compounds in everyday food, just rearranged. I mean, there are a few that can be detected, because they’re so oddball, but I didn’t buy any of them.”

  So he just confirmed he bought all this stuff after knowing the Navy was coming. Jerk.

  I hadn’t really kept abreast of what, if anything, was being stored in the hidden areas, the buildings that weren’t on blueprints and the secret caches underground. I’d heard they were even strapping cargo boxes on the outside of the station, though that seemed awful risky considering we’d be surrounded by warships.

  “I don’t know, Grever. I can almost be certain you bought too much, regardless of where we hide it. You might have to burn it.”

  And Grever clasped his hands together, pleading.

  “Hank, this is all my money. Every credit. If I lose this, I’m on the street. I literally got nothing.”

  “Yeah, but you made this play on your own, selling out once the city goes dry.”

  “Hank, can you check? Can you try? I will cut you in. Whatever percentage you want.”

  “Let me ask,” I said. I specifically had to find out what Jyonal needed, which scared me to death. And I had to ask Garm what I could use, which also scared me to death.

  I hadn’t spoken to Garm in more than a week, I knew how slammed she was trying to get the city in order. To bug her over one drug dealer seemed incautious. But it might be necessary.

  I figured I could always play it safe and stuff my own cabinet full of drugs and feed those to Jyonal as he needed. But with his appetite it might not last long.

  “Thanks, man, thanks,” Grever said. He handed me a packet of drugs—in gratitude, I suppose.

  I was about to return it, but then I thought this would be a good way to open the subject with Jyonal.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be in touch.”

  CHAPTER 25

  I got an urgent tele from Delovoa as I was at the Belvaille Gentleman’s Club watching the Ginland glocken sports team lose for like the one billionth time. Foolishly I answered my tele.

  “It’s following me now,” he whispered in a manic tone.

  I hung up.

  There could be only one thing he was talking about, and it was a little bit more than my brain could handle. I sipped my drink, people nearby were talking at me, but I couldn’t concentrate.

  I got up and hit the train. I completely ignored about a dozen people trying to start conversations. I checked and rechecked my shotgun, though I didn’t suspect it would be of much use. I powered on my Ontakian pistol and hoped it had at least one more shot in it. People stopped trying to talk to me at about this time.

  I paused outside Delovoa’s. Did I really want to be facing off against another Dredel Led so early? Shouldn’t I notify Garm?

  I buzzed the door and waited.

  “Come in, Hank,” came a distant yell.

  I threw open the door.

  Inside was a terrified Delovoa pressed against the wall. Next to him, in the doorway to the adjacent room, was ZR3.

  Wow, was it big.

  I gingerly stepped inside, regretting my decision to come here immediately.

  The sight of ZR3 so close, having obviously moved on its own power, was enough to stun me. It could barely fit in the hallway, and Delovoa’s home was custom-built for moving large objects with autolifters.

  I kept still. I didn’t say anything. I think I was waiting for ZR3. But it was as impassive as ever.

  “So,” I said quietly to Delovoa. “You’ve got a robot in your living room.”

  “It’s following me around,” Delovoa whispered back. He was still pressed flat against the wall. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a while, three bags under his three eyes.

  “Why would it do that?”

  Delovoa shrugged. “I might have issued it a command,” Delovoa said, “without knowing it.”

  “Might?”

  “I-I was talking to it.”

  I felt my anger rise, but nothing can keep the old blood pressure down more than a Dredel Led standing ten feet away.

  “Why were you talking to it?” I asked as calmly as possible.

  “Because it had answered to its name. I wondered if it could answer other questions.”

  “Did it?” I asked.

  “No. But when I went to leave the basement it walked after me.”

  I felt myself perspiring but didn’t want to make any sudden moves, so I just let the sweat drip down my face.

  “Have you tried asking it to stop?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did it work?”

  “What do you think?” Delovoa nudged his head towards the Dredel Led.

  I thought he was in no place to be getting smart.

  “What exactly do you want me to do, Delovoa?”

  “You trashed two of them.”

  He wanted me to fight it? He was nuts.

  “That ain’t going to happen. Try and take it back into the basement,” I said.

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  “How did you get it up here?”

  “I walked.”

  “Well…”

  “It’s blocking the door.”

  It’s true, it was.

  “Back into your kitchen,” I said.

  Delovoa gingerly slid along the wall and around the corner. ZR3 did not move and then suddenly, BOOM!

  It took a huge step forward, swinging its arms and bending its knees to maintain balance. Its weight was so colossal I could actually feel it vibrating the metal house. It twisted its torso, which could pivot independently, then took another step. Then evened its legs and stood straight.

  It was now about five feet away from me, but was facing Delovoa so its side was to me.

  We did not speak or move for some time.

  “It wasn’t that heavy when I moved it in here,” Delovoa finally said.

  I was extremely uncomfortable speaking while it was standing so close. It had actually moved with some speed considering its size and weight. Faster than me. If it reached out that column of an arm, it could smash me against the wall like a bug.

  I took some deep breaths, directing my exhales away from the robot.

  “You’re saying it gained weight while it was under that sheet?”

  “I moved it in by myself when I bought it,” Delovoa said. “I supposed it was mostly hollow for it to be that light.”

  That didn’t make any sense. How could a Dredel Led get fatter? Was it eating on the sly?

  “Walk around it,” I said.

  “You walk around it.”

  “We have to get it to the basement.”

 
Delovoa did not seem interested. Then I realized to my horror:

  “Hey, us talking might accidentally give it more commands.”

  Delovoa’s three eyes popped wide and he bit his lip. But then he got an idea.

  “Tell it to follow you,” he said.

  I shook my head. Nice try.

  “No one is going to care if a Dredel Led is following you,” he reasoned. “They’ll just figure you beat it up.”

  I motioned for him to go past the Dredel Led towards the basement.

  Delovoa seemed to steel himself. He closed his eyes and slid with his back against the wall.

  He was nearly even with the robot when it swiveled its torso and faced Delovoa.

  Delovoa stopped, but he didn’t open his eyes. I held my breath.

  After long moments without death visiting him, Delovoa continued sliding along the wall.

  He slid over the open door and fell backwards onto the ground.

  ZR3 adjusted its legs to align itself with the prostrate Delovoa. The robot’s left shoulder was now a mere three feet from me, but I was mostly behind it.

  Delovoa got to his feet and walked out of my view.

  Suddenly ZR3 took a number of steps forward. It hit the doorway at an angle and bent the thick metal frame. It didn’t even bounce off, but stood there in the indentation. The building hadn’t even slowed it.

  I looked up worriedly, wondering if it might collapse the house, but I didn’t think so.

  ZR3 took a few more steps and, with a horrific screeching, ripped apart the door frame.

  When the robot had thundered out of my sight, I gingerly followed after the pair. Part of me said I should get out of there and let Garm artillery the whole building on top of them.

  But this wasn’t a little Dredel Led. I wasn’t sure if it would notice a house falling on it. How did Delovoa ever get this thing here?

  I walked past two more ruined doorways and stood at the top of a long ramp that led to the basement. Delovoa cowered in a far recess of the room, backed into a corner by the Dredel Led. The destroyed Dredel Led I fought rested nearby, still under its shroud. Did ZR3 know the other robot was there? What was their connection? What if that sheet slips off and ZR3 sees we killed its long-lost cousin? I didn’t see there was anything I could do, however.

  “Hank, now what?” Delovoa asked up to me.

  “Do you want me to bring down your bedding?” I asked. “Do you need food?”

  “You can’t leave me here,” he implored.

  “It’s tearing apart your house like it was paper, what do you think I can do?”

  “Hank,” he pleaded again.

  “I have to talk to Garm.”

  “No,” he said, clearly worried what her response would be. “Can’t you shoot it with your pistol?”

  “Shh.” I became acutely aware we were talking about how to kill a thing that was standing between us. We knew it could understand some Colmarian. It seemed a pretty bad idea to risk learning just how broad its vocabulary was.

  “Do you want your bed?” I asked again.

  Delovoa seemed resigned, slumping to the floor.

  “Yes. And bring me my toolbook.”

  “You’re not going to work on it, are you?” I asked cautiously.

  “You think I’m stupid?”

  Yes, frankly. Who else would stand in front of a working Dredel Led, poking it to try and get a response?

  “I just want to do some schematic work.”

  I went up to his bedroom and brought down his mattress and sheets. I walked very carefully past ZR3, but it showed no interest in me.

  I also went out and got Delovoa some food. The best meal I could get. How he was going to use the bathroom with a many-ton shadow was his concern.

  CHAPTER 26

  The Portal was opened.

  Freighters and cargo ships that had been languishing on the other side for weeks or months finally poured in to the station.

  The crews of those ships, folks accustomed to living in space sometimes a year or more at a time, looked haggard and vacant. They all headed to the bars and drank themselves senseless. Not in any kind of celebration, but with darker purposes.

  Finally, some information began trickling out. The other side of the Portal was crammed with Colmarian warships.

  All these merchants who had their hulls full of contraband and stolen goods had to sit surrounded by the oversized law enforcement of the Confederation. The stress was enough to make even the coolest of sailors crack.

  And more ships were constantly coming. Massive vessels, some with their own a-drives, popping out of the void.

  After feeding them enough drinks or drugs, the captains would warily look around and speak of the dreadnought. A ship so large and intimidating that when it appeared, some freighters panicked and tried to flee, only to receive a stern warning from the Navy. The mouths of its cannons were larger than the length of a cruiser. The sailors could think of no good use for such a ship other than mass planetary destruction.

  The supplies were sorely needed on Belvaille, which is perhaps why they were finally let through. But we also had an influx of illegal goods.

  Instead of unpacking those items, they were pretty much moved straight to the bonfires or the airlock and unceremoniously disposed of. No captain complained. Not even ones who hadn’t been paid. They were fully aware, more than anyone on Belvaille, of what was waiting on the other side of the Portal.

  I avoided Garm’s apartment for the most part. In fact, I don’t think I had ever actually visited it. I just didn’t feel right about going to the Adjunct Overwatch’s private home.

  But I wanted to talk to her free from other distractions.

  There were guards posted outside. Guards inside. A guard at her door. Seemed rather excessive, but I suppose she was making more enemies than usual lately by forcing the bosses to purge their wares.

  Having been announced, Garm finally let me in.

  Her apartment, if you could call it that, looked like a palace.

  Precious metals and gemstones were everywhere and the whole apartment was filled with items of wealth and extravagance. There were little figurines covered in glittering diamonds, on top of a bureau covered in rubies; so many expensive rugs on the floor that they overlapped bulkily; exquisite vases filled with fake flowers made out of mosaics of jewels; a giant antique mirror with hand-carved etchings that must have taken years to complete. It looked like someone had picked the good bits from a museum and squished it down to the size of a Belvaille apartment.

  I had often mocked the bosses for their conspicuous lack of taste and over-the-top décor. But Garm had shamed them all. I had to admit, taken as a whole, which was not easy to do, her apartment was overwhelming. And maybe that was the point. Or maybe there was no point and she just really liked expensive junk.

  “The ceiling?” I asked. “You have paintings on the ceiling?”

  “What do you want, Hank? I have a lot to do.” She stood by a fanciful table covered in mythological beasts. She seemed to be studying blueprints.

  “How are you going to explain all this stuff?” I asked, still looking around in wonder.

  “This isn’t my official home. I live in a nondescript little place. But yeah, a lot of this is going on the fire,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve been avoiding it.”

  “I’ve got some bad news and some really bad news,” I said. I felt I couldn’t keep this under wraps any longer.

  “If this is some boss worrying about anything, you need to take care of it. Do whatever you have to do. I have more important things to deal with. The Portal is open and I haven’t heard word one from the Navy.”

  “I have delfiblinium,” I said plainly.

  “I asked you if you knew of some and you said no!” Garm bellowed.

  “I know. I thought I could take care of it.”

  “Hanks don’t take care of delfiblinium. Governments do. Huge teams of scientists. Why can’t you men ever admit you’re in over you
r heads? How much do you have?”

  “A couple hundred pounds. About.”

  Garm’s mouth dropped open and she sat down on a nearby gilded chair. Well, she fell onto it.

  “You’re sure this is delfiblinium?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How in the million suns did you get that much?” she asked.

  “I have a source,” I said.

  “No. No,” she repeated, standing. “You’re going to tell me where you got it, where it is now, and who I need to have killed. Wait, does this have anything to do with everyone passing out?”

  I thought about this.

  “It does!” Garm began looking around and I was sure she was searching for her gun.

  “Wait, that’s not the really bad news,” I interrupted.

  Garm looked truly frightened and stood up straight, as if awaiting her execution.

  “There’s…a Dredel Led still on Belvaille.”

  Garm’s eyes darted around as she processed this, like it might be hiding underneath one of her golden tables.

  “Delovoa kind of owns it. It’s in his basement. It was deactivated, but it somehow got turned on and now it follows him around.”

  Garm was about to say something. Her lips formed and unformed multiple times.

  “I guess he bought it years ago and it was inoperable,” I continued. “Then we were in his basement and it started talking. It hasn’t—it doesn’t seem violent. But it’s really large and I doubt we can damage it.”

  Garm took a seat again and put her head in her hands. I waited, hoping she wouldn’t be too mad and might have some advice on how to proceed.

  Then I heard an odd sound. I looked back and Garm…Garm was crying.

  Garm. Crying.

  I didn’t know what to do. It was like my reality was unraveling. Garm was unbeatable. Unflappable. And here she was, right in front of me, crying.

  “W-What are you doing?” I asked dumbly.

  She looked up and her face was red and tears were streaming down like two angry, feminine rivers.

  “We are this close. THIS close to having the military just kill us all. Just wipe us away. And I’m doing everything I can, everything I possibly can to prevent that. And you tell me you just happen to have a damn continent’s worth of the rarest, most destructive substance in the galaxy. And we also happen to have an affable Dredel Led hanging out in someone’s basement.”