by G J Ogden
“I am detecting raised heart rates and chemical indicators that suggest fear and suspicion,” said Morphus. “I suggest we conduct our search for the Liberty Devan entity with haste.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” said Hudson, now even more wary of the unsavory characters in the docking bay. Then he saw the dock master returning to his booth by the exit, and nodded over to him. “Let’s try a direct approach. Follow me.”
Morphus obliged and stuck by Hudson’s side as he strolled up to the dock master, as nonchalantly as he could manage.
“Yours that VCX-110?” the dock master said, stabbing a half burned-out cigarette towards the Orion. Ash fell on the sleeve of his brown coveralls, adding a few additional small burn marks to the dozens that already adorned the cuff.
“Yes, that’s us,” said Hudson.
The dock master slid a credit scanner onto the counter and tapped it with his forefinger. “Thumb that for the docking charge,” he said. Hudson scowled at the scanner. It looked like it had been dropped in a bowl of pigswill. He thumbed it, unwillingly, then wiped his hand on the seat of his pants. The dock master dragged the scanner back and added, “Do you need fuel?”
Hudson was about to say yes, but then Morphus interrupted. “We require no additional chemical propellant. We are looking to purchase humanoid entities. Where can we achieve this?”
The dock master looked at Morphus as if it were an alien, and then scowled at Hudson. “Is this a joke? Is she making fun of me?”
“No, not at all!” Hudson said, faking a laugh. “She’s French. It’s her first time out in space, and she’s still learning the language.” The dock master scowled again. She’s French? Hudson thought, dying a little inside. Where the hell did I get, ‘She’s French?’ from? Understandably, the dock master didn’t buy Hudson’s preposterous excuse.
“French my arse,” said the dock master. Then he leaned in towards Hudson and added, more earnestly. “Look, if you two jokers are private investigators looking for missing persons, I’d get back on your ship right now. Those kinds of questions will just get you killed around here.”
Hudson was about to reply when the dock master’s expression suddenly became fearful. He quickly backed away from the counter, sticking the remains of the cigarette in his mouth, and nervously staring off into the distance.
Curious to find out what had caused the dock master’s sudden change of mood, Hudson glanced behind. He saw three men walking towards the counter, shoulders back, chests puffed out. In contrast to the dirty and shabby working clothes that most of the others in the dock were wearing, these men were sharply dressed. However, Hudson could see holsters beneath their tailored jackets, and the lead man also had a bone-handled knife in his boot.
Hudson turned around and whispered to Morphus, “Maybe let me do the talking this time…”
Morphus nodded, “I believe my direct approach may have been too direct.”
“You’re the master of understatement…” replied Hudson, as the lead man stopped a half meter away and peered down at him. Hudson was almost six feet tall, but this man still made him look meek and small.
“You two look lost,” he began, resting his hands on his hips. This had the effect of pushing open the lapels of his jacket, revealing a hefty handgun tucked into a shoulder holster. “Maybe I can help?”
“We’re here on business,” Hudson answered, managing to sound confident and assured, despite his stomach fluttering. “We’re looking to make a purchase for a client. A special kind of purchase, if you know what I mean?”
The man smiled, revealing a pristine set of white teeth, save for three polished silver implants. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean,” he said, though the sinister way he delivered the sentence sent a chill down Hudson’s spine. “You’ll be needing to speak to a member of the Council. Luckily for you, that’s something I can arrange.”
“Good, then I’m glad we bumped into each other,” said Hudson. Outwardly, he maintained his cool demeanor, but inside he had a niggling feeling that it shouldn’t have been that easy.
“If you’d like to follow me, sir and madam,” said the man, extending an open palm towards a side exit. His perfect smile remained. “Then I’ll get you all set up.”
Hudson and Morphus followed the man, though his two suited companions remained to their rear. Hudson glanced over to the dock master’s desk as they walked, but he was rooted to the spot, eyes fixed on his counter top. Hudson could see that there was nothing on his desk to look at. The dock master was simply making sure he was staring anywhere other than at the men accompanying him and Morphus.
“I think we’re in trouble,” said Hudson, as they passed through an archway and into a much smaller secondary hangar. Ominously, there was no-one else inside it, but them.
“Affirmative, our escort appears calm, but I am detecting perspiration and an elevated heart rate,” said Morphus. “Violence may be required.”
Hudson almost laughed. Violence may be required… he repeated in his head. Morphus certainly had a way with words.
“Please subdue the male entity to our front,” Morphus continued, “I will manage the two to our rear.”
They continued on, until the lead man stopped in the center of the smaller hangar. The space was empty, save for some large metal waste containers lined up against one wall. Considering how messy and cluttered the primary hangar had been, this only worsened Hudson’s fears that something was badly wrong. The lead man then turned around and nodded to his companions, who immediately drew their weapons and aimed them at Hudson and Morphus.
“Right then, why don’t we have a little chat about the real reason you two clowns are here,” said the man. He had again pressed his hands to his hips, but his narrow-set eyes had turned cruel. To Hudson, some people just had a look about them that was plain nasty. This man was the personification of the word.
“Hey, take it easy,” said Hudson, holding his hands up in an attempt to placate him. Morphus remained completely still. “I told you, we’re here to make a purchase.”
The man shook his head, and pointed his finger at both of them in turn. “You don’t just stroll up to the complete nobody manning the dock master’s desk, and ask to meet the Council,” he said, then laughed, scornfully. “You two are either cops, or PIs, or just the dumbest two shits who ever landed on this station.” The two men behind stepped forward, and Hudson felt the cold barrel of a weapon press against the back of his head. “Now, you have two seconds to tell me why you’re really here, or I’ll blow your brains out.”
Suddenly, Morphus raised its hands sharply upwards, deflecting the weapons, before turning and shoving the two men back. It was done with such precision and speed that Hudson felt the rush of air wash past his face as the entity moved. Then he saw the lead man reaching inside his jacket, and his own instincts kicked in. His reactions may not have been as clinically precise as Morphus’ had been, but he was still able to rush the man before he could draw the weapon.
Hudson’s tackle had intended to knock the thug off his feet, but it was like hitting a defensive lineman. Hudson felt an elbow slam into his back and groaned. The thug hit like a heavyweight champion. Hudson shoved him back, then went for his pistol, but the man casually slapped it from his grasp. It was like a school bully knocking a textbook from the quivering hands of his quarry. However, the thug still did not press his advantage. He seemed to be enjoying toying with Hudson, like a cat with a mouse; but Hudson was in no mood to be pushed around.
Hudson stepped in and landed a combo of solid punches, which drove the thug back. However, he didn’t know whether he’d actually hurt the bigger man, or just pissed him off. Then Hudson was grabbed, and tossed against the metal containers lining the wall. Shaking off the pain, Hudson watched as his opponent strode menacingly towards him, still not even bothering to reach for his own handgun.
Hudson quickly glanced over to Morphus, and then wished he hadn’t. Instead of the woman he’d gotten used to seeing, there was a shimmer
ing metallic blur. The shape was still largely humanoid, but its arms were stretched out like octopus’ limbs, fighting the two thugs at once.
“I’m going to do this the old-fashioned way,” said the man, standing over Hudson and cracking his knuckles.
Hudson stood up and raised his guard. He’d fought bigger men before, but this was like fighting two people at once. He waited for the thug to attack, dodging the first punch and blocking the second, before hammering two blows to his opponent’s substantial body. Then Hudson caught a forearm to the face and he hit the deck again. A size fourteen boot came at him like a swinging scythe, but he was quick to scramble out of danger and get back to his feet.
“You’ve got some spirit, I’ll give you that,” said the thug, as he paced towards Hudson. Then he reached down and pulled the bone-handled knife from his boot, before smiling, cruelly. “But I’ve got places to be, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut this short.”
Hudson’s eyes widened; a knife was a game changer. No-one going toe-to-toe with an opponent armed with a blade walked away unscathed. And even on his best day, Hudson knew he couldn’t beat this brute of a man in a straight up fist fight, never mind against a knife.
He looked for his pistol, and saw it on the deck about five meters away. He darted for it, snatching it up into his grasp, but as he stood up again, he was struck across the side of the face and floored. Dazed, he looked up to see the thug above him. He crouched and picked up Hudson’s pistol, before aiming it at his chest.
“On second thoughts, I’ll just shoot you,” the man said, sheathing the blade again. “Makes less of a mess.”
Hudson shut his eyes and flinched as he heard the crack of the pistol firing, but there was no pain. He glanced up and saw Morphus standing between him and the thug, still in its shimmering form. Hudson clambered to his feet, and saw that Morphus had absorbed the shot into its own body.
The thug appeared to be in shock, completely blindsided by the sudden appearance of the alien being. Hudson had enough presence of mind to strip the pistol from the man’s hand. Then he watched as he staggered back a couple of paces, mouth open and eyes wide. Hudson took advantage of the confusion and hammered the pistol across the side of the man’s head, striking the temple cleanly. The thug dropped like a bag of wet rocks.
Hudson blew out a heavy sigh and rested forward on his knees, realizing how much of a close call the fight had been. He then looked up at Morphus, but the alien entity was shimmering chaotically, and appeared unsteady on its feet. “Morphus, are you okay?” said Hudson, springing towards it and holding the alien’s shimmering shoulders. Slowly, Morphus transformed back to its previous female form. “Hey, are you okay?” Hudson repeated, looking down at the area where the man had shot it. Morphus’ simulated clothing in that area was distorted.
“I have sustained moderate damage,” replied Morphus. The alien was mirroring Hudson’s concerned expression. “I have already initiated repairs, but I must return to my vessel in order to assess the seriousness.”
Hudson nodded, “Right, we’ll get you back now,” he said, throwing Morphus’ arm over his shoulder and ushering it back towards the main docking bay. He could now see the other two men on the deck. Their necks were red and faces slightly blue. It looked like Morphus had literally strangled the life out of them.
“We have yet to recover the Liberty Devan entity,” said Morphus, as parts of its body phased between shimmering metal and its simulated relic hunter clothing.
Hudson shook his head. “We’ll have to come back another time. We need a new strategy first, because the direct approach clearly doesn’t work.” Morphus’ arm flickered and became smooth for a second, before returning to normal. “But before that, we need to get you fixed up,” Hudson added.
They moved through into the main hangar, but then gunshots rang out, and shouts echoed along the arched corridor that led out of the bay. Pulsing red lights flashed on above them, and an announcement blared out over the address system. “Bay four is on security lockdown. No ships are permitted to dock or depart until further notice.”
Morphus turned to Hudson, as the message repeated, “I believe there may be further danger ahead.”
Hudson again laughed at the alien’s vermouth-dry statement of the facts. He nodded, and then replied, “No shit. But we’re getting the hell out of here anyway. We’ve already outstayed our welcome.”
CHAPTER 25
Liberty continued to hold the skelly to the lock of the cell door. A row of soft green LEDs was flashing rapidly, as the device worked to decode the combination. She had already used the skelly to unlock her binders, but the cell lock was more complex. It had been a full minute already, though to Liberty it had felt like hours.
“What are you doing?” asked the young man who was in the cell with her. He was dressed smartly and was well spoken, though Liberty couldn’t place his accent. This wasn’t surprising, since she’d spent very little time outside of San Francisco, until she began charging around the galaxy with Hudson.
“I’m getting the hell out of here, that’s what,” said Liberty, watching the door like a hawk.
“You can do that?” asked the man. “You can open the cell?”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” replied Liberty. Then the lights on the skelly turned solid and the lock clicked. She tried the door, and it swung open. “Looks like it’s your lucky day too,” said Liberty, glancing back at the young man, before tip-toeing out of the cell.
“Wait, what about the others?” said the man, following her out.
Liberty had forgotten about the others, and felt a little guilty for having done so. She stopped and checked the cells again. There was one man left in the middle lockup, and two more in the far-right cell, who were both no older than perhaps sixteen or seventeen. Liberty scrunched her eyes shut, wishing she could forget their faces. Her own escape was by no means certain. She still had to reach the dock on level four and somehow find a way onto a ship. And the longer she spent in this place, the more likely it was they would be discovered and recaptured. With five pairs of feet creeping around instead of just her own, achieving a stealthy getaway would be almost impossible. She knew her best chance was to go now, and go it alone. However, she also knew that if she survived, her conscience would eat at her for the rest of her life.
“What’s your name?” Liberty asked, turning back to the man.
“Tobin, my name is Tobin Rand,” said the man. “I was kidnapped by the Council for ransom. My mother runs a large shipping corporation out of Tharsis City on Mars.”
Liberty cocked an eyebrow at him, “Not the Jewel Star Liner company, by any chance?”
Tobin shook his head, “No, but I think they’re one of our subsidiaries.” Then he shrugged, “Only, we own so many things it’s hard to keep track.”
Liberty smiled, “Tobin, you’ve just become my favorite person.”
“Honestly, I can’t keep up with it all,” Tobin continued, seemingly forgetting they were standing in what was essentially a jail, with armed men outside the door. “Mom is trying to groom me to take over the business, but it all bores the crap out of me, to be honest.”
Liberty shook her head. Why this guy was choosing that moment to tell her his life story was beyond her. “Look, that’s really fascinating and all, but we need to move,” said Liberty, handing him the skelly. “Rest this on the lock on the far cage, while I try to open the center one.”
Tobin nodded, and then took the device. “So, what’s your plan to get away?”
Liberty shrugged, “Get to the dock on level four, without getting killed.”
Tobin’s eyes widened, but Liberty just gave him a gentle nudge in the direction of the cell. “We’ll figure it out on the way, just hurry.”
Tobin nodded and turned towards the cell at the far end, but then froze. Blocking his path was the body of the man that Werner’s guard had mown down earlier. Liberty glanced down at the body, also having forgotten it was there, and then loo
ked away. The sight of it made her stomach churn, but the sensation was driven by fear, rather than revulsion.
“Hey, we can’t help him,” said Liberty, looking back at Tobin, whose face had drained of blood. “But we can save the others, if we act fast. So, clear your head and focus, and we’ll all get out of here alive.”
Tobin nodded and ran off, taking a wide path around the dead body. Liberty blew out a sigh, grateful that her motivational speech had worked on Tobin. She just wished it’d had the same effect on herself.
Liberty quickly began to scout the room for anything she could use to break open the middle cell. Not having to wait for the skelly to decode two more locks might only save a couple of minutes, but she knew that could be the difference between escape and recapture.
She tried the doors on the windowless rooms, but all were locked, except for one. She pulled it open and stepped inside, but then froze. There was a single chair in the center of the room, stained red with blood, with a drain on the floor directly beneath it. Other than the chair, there was a table, on top of which were a number of tools. Liberty cautiously stepped closer and then to her horror realized they were also stained red in places. These aren’t tools; this is a damned torture chamber! She realized.
Shaking off the disgust at what she’d discovered, Liberty grabbed a blood-stained crowbar from the table, hoping she might be able to use it to pry open the lock’s service panel. She was about to leave when she spotted another weapon, except this was something she was much more familiar with. She grabbed the pair of tonfa and slid them through her belt, hoping it wouldn’t be necessary to use them, and ran back outside.
She was about to sprint back to the cells, when she heard the lock click on the door to Werner’s office. It opened, and the guard who had put her in the cell earlier stepped in, accompanied by a second guard. They were busy chatting and laughing, and didn’t immediately notice Liberty. However, as the second guard closed the door and both took a few steps towards the cells, they finally spotted Liberty, and their expressions hardened.
