by Jack Lance
Bailey took the car out onto the crystal highways over the biosphere to the Metropolis. Using the Sagar shortcut he crossed the promenade bridge to The Octagon district at the center of the city. The bridge led to the hospital building, where he left the car at hollow before making his way down to the central spread.
He raised his pace, not wanting to be late, as he walked across the octagonal space, to the premium café and restaurant block on the opposite side, that had once been the Beldin block, and South Syndicate. The old sign was still up there, with the lettering removed leaving a clean scar that could still be read.
He skirted past the central statue of the symbol representing the controlling royal house, that hovered over a gigantic fountain at the dead center of the city. It was the Cequodus Dynastic symbol, an inverted triangle within two close circles, that themselves represented the territorial dominion of the Eclipse Empire.
Bailey clucked his tongue slightly as he glanced up at it and at the disturbance of water just below where it floated.
He lightly ran the rest of the way, covering his face from the windows of the Border Security Central block nearby. He had avoided its interior the whole time he’d been in exile and didn’t want to slip up now.
After a while of skipping and walking he made it to the base of the old South Central block. He passed by each of the small restaurants that spilled haphazardly out of the strand, to a large café where he saw Farnon sitting under a parasol. There were couples and families all around now, and since the whole area was so exposed, Bailey felt a sudden vulnerability to any would be assassin.
He sat down opposite Farnon, while looking away at people walking by and at the windows in the blocks on all eight sides.
“Hello, friend.” Farnon said, limply shaking his hand. “Been a while now, hasn’t it?”
“I know, it’s my fault. So much has happened.” Bailey brought up the holographic plate for the menu and selected a small coffee.
Farnon had already received a tray of tea and biscuits.
“Now you should know something.” Bailey said, trying to focus. “We’ve got another escape in motion. This is the big one. This is the way it should have been from the start.”
“I see. You know I’m in if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It is, my friend. It most certainly is.” Bailey said. “But we need a few things from you.”
“As I would expect.” Farnon smiled, relaxing into his chair. “You know I’m just a glorified pen pusher really but I’ll see what I can do.”
“We need your help opening the door to Red Sector. We need a biometric signature that can override the security protocols for the psycho wing.”
“You know, there’s a rumour going around that’s where you came from.”
“Nevermind all that now.” Bailey waved a hand. “Is this something you think you can do?”
Farnon thought for a moment then shrugged “It’s possible maybe. When do you need it for?”
“This week. Maybe next. I’m not sure. You had better talk to the rest of the team. Contact Flynn Randall, and he’ll take you to one of the labs we’ve set up. It will be good to work with you again, Port.”
“Wait a minute.” Farnon said. “Have you heard of a cop called Kane Minik? He’s one of the chief decs in Border Sec, and a bastard. He’s got a hardon for you right now, and that’s usually something to be worried about. Seems to think you’ve been mixed up in a lot of the bad things that have been happening.”
“Well, I have been.” Bailey chuckled.
“Well, I’m just saying, I think he knows it too. Just watch your back.”
“You’ve got no idea, Port.” Bailey said. “Seems like Old Gang’s put a price on my head.”
“Really? Who’s in control exactly?” Farnon said
“They’re from outa town, whoever they are. Nash Fincle or someone else I’ve pissed off.” Bailey said as a robot brought him a small cup filled with coffee. “I’m pretty sure it’s Nash Fincle. Me and Francine Adyms have had a thing for a while. It was only a matter of time before he found out.”
“How can you be sure though? Maybe it’s someone else?”
“It was him. I’m practically sure of it.” Bailey said and sipped at the cup.
Farnon clenched his fist weakly and said “Well I can’t believe that’s a coincidence. Someone put all this in the way just before we want to leave?”
“This will not be easy.” Bailey said and downed the last of his coffee. “You don’t just escape from a place such as this. It’s a bloody minefield in more ways than one.”
Farnon sighed and said “Well I have to get out of this place. Either on that weather station or in a box. I don’t belong here, Bailey. I was a good cop. But that’s the whole point isn’t it?”
“Well, I guess you can’t all be cunts.” Bailey winked and Farnon laughed.
“You’ve got my number.” Bailey said leaning across the table. “I want you to put the word out to the supergrass network. Try and find out who made this contract. If I can take them out then there’s nobody to pay the bounty. It will take some of the heat off us while we get this together.”
“Yeah, makes sense I guess.”
He stood up and shook Farnon’s hand.
“Give me a call when you have it confirmed.” he said, and turned and walked away.
“Will do, buddy.” Farnon said to his back, and finished the last of his own drink.
The scope and crosshairs that had been watching them from a perch above, followed Bailey back across The Octagon and up a glass elevator to the parking hollow of the hospital. It followed him as long as it could, losing him as he jumped down a stone embankment onto the first of the parking lanes.
A Lack of Incompetence.
Bailey let the car roll off to a stables tunnel close by, and stepped up to a long hedge by a cavern wall. He had stopped at the outer gates of a wide estate. The script on the gate read “Sagar Estate”.
He rang the bell at the side and a blocky, artificial holographic face leaned out of a screen.
“It’s me. Aaron Bailey. I need to speak to Lon.”
The gate buzzed and then slowly opened as the face merged back into the flat surface. Bailey walked inside and up the road between two wide fields. The road led to one house, the only house in the cavern.
It was more like a ranch, with a genuine horse stables out front, and a number of fields around about for various related purposes.
He skipped up to the door and looked inside, and seeing nobody walked around to the back.
Lon Sagar and Dora Beldin were sitting there, soaking up the artificial sunlight in light summer clothes.
“Good afternoon.” Lon said. “Take a seat.”
The wide porch was enclosed on either side by walls of hollow patterned bricks, with the floor tiles blending almost seamlessly into the grassland that stretched out to the darker cavern wall, far away. On the grass there were tall white tents being erected by robots.
“So the big day has finally arrived? Good luck with the wedding. I really mean it.” Bailey said earnestly.
“I just wish Bede could have been here to see this. We’ll understand if you can’t come tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there.” Bailey said looking at the tents. “But in truth, that isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh?” Dora said raising her attention.
“I might as well come right out and say it. Me and a few others are escaping. We have a plan in place and it looks like it could work this time.”
Lon blew, and said “Well I can’t say that I blame you. Not after what happened. How do you know it will work this time? It never has before. It always ends badly.”
“It’s a risk we are all prepared to take.” Bailey said looking at them square. “We realize that you won’t want to come with us now, but we could really use your help.”
“We won’t do anything to threaten the peace.” Dora said sternly. “The greatest times ar
e ahead of us now. With us rebuilding South Syndicate, and Nash building up Old Gang we can keep Border Sec out of our business, working together.”
“And you trust Nash?” Bailey asked, being careful not to sound sarcastic.
“Nash isn’t like the others. He never has been. It takes courage to change an organization like Old Gang, and that’s exactly what he’s been doing these past few months.”
“I know that. Maybe I misjudged him, I dunno. I’m not asking you to do anything hostile. We just need you to keep people off our backs while we work.”
“Where are you working exactly?” Lon said.
“Well, here goes. It’s Red Sector and the central control tower. We need to crack into both, and both have heavy doors blocking the way.”
“I take it the weather rocket idea has been scrapped, then. We thought it would work. I guess we were naive.” Dora said sadly.
“Even if we wanted to they’ve changed the codes to those doors. Can’t go that way.”
“I guess we can help you.” Dora said warmly. “But we’ll expect you to be at the wedding.”
“Of course! I really think it’s wonderful how you two have stayed together through all that has happened. And all the rest. This is a sleepy little colony now and should stay that way. Maybe all the nightmares are gone now?”
Dora smiled at him and said “I’m sure you’ll have all sorts of adventures up in space. But space is big, and a lot of it is bad. Like complexity within complexity, you need a strong constitution to navigate it. You can still do it, but us… We can’t be gallivanting off at our time in life. I’m sure this is what Bede would have wanted too.”
“Well thanks.” Bailey said standing up, and nodded at them both.
He phased out slightly and stood for a moment as if thinking about something.
“Was there something else?” Dora asked.
Bailey shook his head and said “Nah, maybe its nothing.”
He shook Lon’s hand and kissed Dora on the cheek before turning and returning to his car.
He took one last look along the narrow lane running around the outskirts of the estate, then got into the car and sped out of the place.
Bailey drove from highway to highway at speed, revving past other slower cars as they headed about their more ordinary business. He headed toward the city center again, and to a neighbourhood just outside of the metropolis. It was a mostly derelict apartment district run by a drug lord that went by the handle “Double G”.
Bailey didn’t know what it meant but didn’t need to, so long as they kept buying the Colec company pills. The company had thrived with full staff in the months since the dissolution of East Syndicate, but recently he’d sacked most of them off. Even on a skeleton crew staff, business was booming, as the gangs that sold on the poison were in neighbourhoods very close to the Sagar block.
Double G’s village was right next door, and so they were still entrenched in the old narcotic flow systems.
The various characters that hung around the streets at this side of the neighbourhood recognized Bailey as he slowly drove down onto their lanes. They didn’t get in his way as he took the shiny sports car across each cobblestone street through the outer terraces, until he was close to a tunnel leading into the central metropolis.
Bailey took the car to the opening of a parking subway between two tall sided houses. He got out and let the car go down into it and then headed out of the terraces, passing by the last of the street dealers and their semi naked children, all of whom would unleash hell on him if they didn’t still see him as an associate.
Across a sporadically bush lined road junction he jogged into the cavern wall, and then through the long tunnel to the foot of the old Sagar building.
Bailey raised his pace as he entered the metropolis and the high street. The block above the street had once been a thriving center of commerce, in the heyday of East Syndicate, but now even months later it still was a smouldering mess. The windows above were gaunt and empty, with each of their floors having been looted and torched by the gangs around about. Only the odd daring business still remained, fortified within the warehouse floors.
It was tempting to go up to the robot-reinforced Colec Warehouses and hide from this lingering danger, but he didn’t want to go back there, as that would be retracing his steps, and his steps would be being traced.
Then again, as he walked quickly down the main street, heading toward the tunnels to the more northern districts, he didn’t feel as if he had encountered any of the kind of danger he had feared. He had been running about the colony for hours now and had seen no sign of the army of hitmen that he would have expected to descend on him, given the price they had been offered.
Bailey slowed his pace down, and realizing how thirsty he was, he stopped at an arch serving fast coffee. He bought a strong cream coffee and walked carefully with it along the ember showered street.
He paused beside an omnibus stop with dirty glass sides that extended out as seats. On the opposite side of the road was an enclosed elevator shaft running up to the tram station high above, which would take him clear to the next people on his list.
Bailey was about to take a sip of his coffee when he saw a large hole in the glass, and a shard of it slipping down onto the seat. He looked around to see if others on the pathway had noticed it, but saw only an old woman hobbling by him on crutches. Just a moment later he was horrified to see her lurch forward as a high powered bullet sliced through her middle.
The old woman fell to the ground, dead as the others around began to scream.
Bailey turned and looked in the direction the bullet must have come from, and saw a brief reflected glint from what could only have been a sniper scope. The sniper had positioned himself on the highway above, and was leaning around to aim down at the street.
The sniper fired, and somehow Bailey visualized it all in slow motion enough to dive aside, letting the bullet whistle past him and hit the road behind. The bullet screamed as it rubbed against the concrete road, and Bailey, who was now resolved to the attack got back to his feet and sprinted along the street toward the tunnel to the north.
He had no way of fighting back, since he only carried the one small apple knife.
You are a fool, aren’t you?
The sniper dropped the long distance to the ground and began running after Bailey. He aimed the sniper rifle at him like a regular gun and began pumping shots after him along the street. Some hit other pedestrians, while others came much closer to hitting, but then Bailey was at the tunnel, and the hitman was out of bullets.
He dropped the rifle and took out a handgun, and began running fast after his bounty.
Bailey ran across the road junctions to the arch of the tunnel, as the hitman discharged his weapon twice from his position in the tall street. Both missed but barely, with their erupting bangs spurring Bailey to run harder.
Bailey ran as fast as he could through to the far end of the tunnel, as the hitman made it to the first of the tunnel behind him. There was another shot, that exploded within the confined space. The bullet sliced the red bricks of the wall beside Bailey’s shoulder, and then he had reached the far side.
Bailey grabbed the corner of the arch and spun himself around it as fast as possible to get out of the aim of the killer.
He was about to run on and into the roads between the derelict terraces when he noticed something in his favour. The red bricks of the arch around the cavern wall had crumbled somewhat without repair, and had fallen and now lay around on the path.
He crept forward, listening to the hitman’s footsteps as he ran closer through the cavern wall, and picked up one of the bricks.
Bailey crouched with the brick ready, and as the hitman came to view he pushed the brick hard into his face. The man stumbled backward onto the road, and Bailey dived onto him and pounded his head with the brick three more times.
Something within Bailey wanted to, but there was no need to carry on, as the man was clearly dea
d.
He looked around at the lonely place, then wiped his nose and picked up the hitman’s gun.
Better. The end will justify the means.
He got to his feet and ran north through the roads.
He made it to a tram station and waited in the shadows for the next one to arrive.
The gun was hidden in his belt at the back under his shirt, and he stood at a slant trying not to look too flustered to the other people waiting around about.
The tram ride northward went without a hitch until the tram tracks discontinued a few districts away from the abandoned city center, and Old Gang Central.
After jogging the length of two stagnant neighbourhoods he entered one of the districts outside the northern city center, where now he could hear the throb of the endless Old Gang party. Bailey swallowed his fear as he approached the wall to the district, dodging winos and groups of spaced looking men and women. The atmosphere had thickened dramatically in the space of a few steps, and he now felt the full pressure grow of what it would entail to complete this part of the plan.
There were four more individuals vital to the success of the plan, and all lived or worked within Old Gang territory.
The statues of both brothers still stood here, now a stinging reminder of just who he had murdered, and that one of them was still alive.
Bailey ran to the final arched tunnel and through the cold rock wall to Old Gang Central, entering the dark place without protection to the ears. The angry sound was horrific, and it took him a few moments to readjust to the new environment.
At the end of the tunnel he stepped out into the main street and caught sight of the towering block above. Immediately he felt the wash of the danger he was entering into, and casually hid behind a lamp post with his back to the place and its hundreds of windows.
If their spies were to see him coming they would react to stop him, or at least detain him for questions. They may even kill him, although in secret so not to damage Nash’s new masquerade of righteousness.
