Exile: Arc

by Jack Lance

  Within the ruined Sagar building very little of the original surveillance grid was still functioning. He was able to ghost through the now mostly abandoned warehouse wing to the Colec units, now heavily guarded by his own, customized tripod droids.

  Bailey went in and out of unit B, bringing the Romano with him. He walked the dog to the elevators and took them up a number of floors, stopping at a visibly burnt out floor of the building. There was one single camera trained on that floor, at the elevator, but at an angle unable to view beyond it's glass floor.

  Bailey vaguely noticed it as he walked the dog inside and out of sight of the surveillance network.

  Nash and the others watched the glass floor, waiting to see what would happen, or if Bailey would come back out.

  Then someone behind Nash hissed “Look. Who’s that?”

  A camera at another screen trained down on a view of the hollow and they watched as a police officer walked from a parking lane to the lobby and called the same elevator back down. They zoomed closer on the person as he travelled up to the same level and disappeared into the charred walls.

  “Who was it?” someone asked.

  “Looked like Minik. Maybe we aren’t bribing him enough….” Nash sneered bitterly.

  Kane walked into the darkness of the abandoned floor, which had been stripped and torched, and soaked through by the emergency services.

  Bailey had watched him arise on the glass lift and step out onto the filthy floor.

  His eyes found the figure of Bailey, standing in a shadowy corner beyond the burnt frame of an office door.

  “Ah.” he said and walked over to him. “You have some information.”

  Bailey paused studying him, then said “I guess you could say that.”

  “Well you either do or you don’t.” Kane said growing impatient already. “You want money?”

  “Why are you doing this?” Bailey said flatly.

  Kane looked at him and squinted to see past the shadow.

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” he said, trying to come off as sarcastic.

  “It’s a lot of money. You took a contract out on Bailey’s life, and got the whole police department down on his back. I want to know why.”

  “You want me to deny it? He’s a criminal. He deserves everything he gets.” he said smirking slightly.

  “But a contract? Don’t bullshit me.” Bailey said, and jerked the lead he had on the Romano. “Tell me now. What is this about?”

  Minik flinched on noticing the huge dog, and began to pant and panic.

  “You want to know what this is about? Fine!” he said pacing left and right slightly like a cornered animal. “Wendell was mine! It took months for me just to meet her. Then in swoops this criminal, a scumbag, and sweeps her right off her feet? It’s always the way! The people in this colony treat the cops like shit!”

  “Is that what this is about?” Bailey said, surprised beyond his delirium. “So this is nothing to do with the escape?”

  Bailey stepped forward into the light, and Kane took a step back.

  “I knew it was you. You son of a bitch! You stay away from Wendall. She was mine from the start.” Kane slavered like a mad dog.

  “Oh Jayne.” Bailey chuckled to himself and said “I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick, friend.”

  “There’s no mistake. She won’t even return my calls now.”

  “I’m sorry but she ain’t mine.” Bailey said. “I wouldn’t know how to win her heart either. I’m just like you.”

  Bailey looked up with a vacant face. He could still feel the blood dripping out of his jacket onto his boots.

  Kane looked insane, or maybe driven insane by whatever torment he had been living in, in the backwash of all of the events that had taken place.

  Bailey released the Romano, and turned his back as the snarling dog ran up to Kane, and leaped up biting at his throat. Kane’s screams pierced through the place as the dog tore into him on the floor.

  Bailey walked up to a broken window at the rear of the building, and looked out over the thin flowing traffic far below. He waited for the screams to stop.

  And then Kane Minik had been murdered.

  Bailey walked from the floor onto the elevator as the lens watched from above. The Romano trotted out after him, trailing bloody paw prints after it, and sat on the far corner from Bailey.

  At the parking lanes Bailey let the dog run off and then waited almost innocently on the path as his car returned from the robotic lockup.

  The cameras followed him in a relay again as he drove out and up onto the crystal highways.

  “That son of a bitch. What the hell is going on?” Nash said jealously. “None of this makes any sense!”

  They watched on the monitors as the car made its way from one highway to the next across the biosphere. It drove at speed down between the massive canopies of tropical trees. The road emerged from the forest over a short swamp that merged into marshland and then bridged slowly down to the central moors. It ended at an old, weather crippled nature observatory, where Bailey parked in one of its few bays.

  Bailey got out and walked from the concrete foundations, along a compressed stone path that crossed the moors. It was clear now he was heading in the direction of the central robotic tower of the city, with its milky light slowly spinning over the scene.

  The last camera before the moors looked out from the crooked roof of the observation hut. The Old Gang leaders watched quietly and followed Bailey along the twisting cement path, zooming further as he walked further away.

  The icebergs towered over the short limping figure as he got closer to the centermost zone. The cement path led through a tunnel in the mound of ice. The raised path led through the towering bergs, raising up on supports to a broad platform surrounding the central tower.

  The camera zoomed further to watch closely as Bailey limped up into the tunnel through the ice.

  “Oh my God!” Nash said, and zoomed the camera over Bailey shoulder toward the central area. “What the hell is that thing?”

  The camera zoomed then focused on the platform at the door to the tower, which itself had been obscured by two plastic sheets dropped from a high pole. There were figures moving around within, and between them a huge object with thick arms reaching up out of it.

  “Looks like a….” an older member of Old Gang stammered, from behind him. “Squid?”

  Bailey limped up to the thick plastic sheets and walked into the laboratory within. The huge, modified fruit picking robot sat on the concrete path ahead, walking here and there on short centipede-like legs. A set of huge arms reached up out of it, with most of them stabbed into the roof and walls of the ice to steady it, and two reaching across to the broad door of the tower. The arms held closely two lasers that were slowly moving around the outside of the door, slicing a new, smaller door into it.

  Thom caught sight of Bailey first as he staggered into the lab, and thumbed over his shoulder at the huge droid.

  “Where did you get the idea for this thing?” he said, and Bailey shrugged.

  He walked to one of the chairs and flopped into it, while some of the others caught sight of him and rushed over.

  “Oh dear. This looks bad.” Faye said, and opened his jacket to see the wounds. “How long has it been like this?”

  Bailey held his hand over his face and leaned back as Faye ran the humming medical instrument over his wounds, closing them.

  “Did you take care of the bounty yet?” Randall asked.

  “Kane Minik is dead.” Bailey said. “Oh that reminds me.”

  Bailey dialled the number for the emergency services on his multi-com, and said “Kane Minik has been attacked in the old Sagar building. Floor fourteen. He’s dead but you should be able to revive. You’re welcome…”

  Bailey then pointed at Farnon, and said “Biometric... urgh!”

  Farnon stepped up to them and said “You want to use Kane? Sure, we can do that, I guess. They’ll revive him in st
eps if he’s dead. I’ll try snatch him up while he’s paralyzed.”

  “Good.” Bailey groaned, as Faye closed another of his bullet wounds. “It will help if he can’t move around too much.”

  “Well it won’t be long before this door is down, then we’ll have to move.” Randall said, pointing back at the robotic lasers. “Then you’ll have more than bounties to worry about.”

  “How long?” Bailey asked looking up.

  “Tomorrow afternoon I reckon if we take every precaution..” Faye said. “You should get some sleep.”

  “We can’t leave the equipment.” Bailey said. “Bed down here tonight.”

  Nash and the others stared at the sheets hiding what was taking place. The lens was at the limits of its zoom, and blurry, and after a time of nothing changing they gave up on it.

  Nash turned the monitors off and stood back in the shadowy room.

  “That’s it. That way.” Nash said pointing at the monitors. “I think it’s time to play the trump.”

  Nash snapped his fingers at Dane Angell, who stood behind him with the congregation. He walked toward the exit and fingered for him to follow. Leaving the others he took him across the Fincle block through the upper auditorium looking out over the highways. There were many of the Old Gang hierarchy of trustees, most of whom cringed at the sight of Nash, realizing how expendable they were still despite their age and especially in the new regime.

  They walked the full length of the block, wearing Dane out physically, and then took a narrow, claustrophobic elevator with a deep lime green décor down to the cells in the basement.

  They walked along a rank corridor leading off into semi circles of cells, all of which had the feel and in some cases the look of a real dungeon. Nash entered one and they walked to a cell containing Chester Barron. He was sitting on a grimy bunk, with his arms and legs bound to the floor by small but firm chains.

  He slowly looked up as they approached.

  “You’ve expressed an interest in a way to repay your debt to my family.” Nash said quietly.

  “Oh yes, Mr Fincle.” Barron said, suddenly animated.

  “There is a way to do this.” Nash said with a sly smile.

  The Winter Cattle.

  The escape party awoke on the metal chairs that they had arranged at the base of the tower door. They had slumped against one another during the night, and so as one awoke so did the rest.

  Jayne opened her eyes as Thom began to move, himself stirred by Randall who pushed him off as he realized how they had been lying against each other. She looked around taking a while to notice the black person sitting in a chair that had been moved so to look at the line of sleeping people.

  “Who the hell?” Farnon exclaimed on seeing him too.

  “Oh please don’t be alarmed.” Dane Angell waved a hand at them. “As you can see I am a member of the Nat Mind. Aaron Bailey and I know each other, don’t we?”

  Bailey nipped the night muck from his eyes and said “How did you find us?”

  “Nobody else knows I assure you.” he said. “I saw you last night. You looked quite badly injured so I followed you. I’ve been here most of the night. I didn’t want to wake you.”

  “No. It’s fine.” Bailey said standing up. “Everyone, this is Dane Angell. Reverend Angell, this is everyone.”

  “Hello.” he said.

  “What do you want?” Thom said bluntly, and Bailey eyed him coldly.

  “Well, it looks like you’re escaping. Maybe I can help you all to stay safe?”

  “We don’t need your help. Beat it.” Randall said, and waved a hand at Bailey before he could protest.

  “No need to be rude.” Dane said. “I actually have somewhere else to be today. I’m assuming you won’t be missing the union of Sagar and Beldin before your departure?”

  “Well I…I did say I would be there…” Bailey began, as he walked limply toward Dane Angell.

  “What are you doing?” Randall hissed as he grabbed Bailey with force by the scruff of his shirt. “We can’t afford to jeopardize this. The clock is ticking.”

  Seeing Randall was not going to let go he gently struck a pressure point on the side of his wrist, causing him to flinch away.

  Without emotion Bailey bowed his head, then said “The wedding is in the morning. We leave this afternoon. What harm will it do to say goodbye? We aren't savages.”

  Bailey put on his slightly bloodstained jacket and walked to Dane, then said “Keep the home fire burning.”

  The others watched as Bailey and Dane walked away along the cold path, and then carried on with their tasks. Between them the droid powered up again and leaned its lasers toward the huge slab of the door.

  Reverend Angell and Bailey each drove to a quiet, terraced village in the far south and let their cars park themselves. From the main streets between steaming, gothic apartment towers they walked through a maze of traditional housing terraces that looked reminiscent of the kind of places they had all known back on the true colonies. They made their way through to a back lane that ran alongside a broad field. A large church sat near the closest edge of it, and they made their way down to it.

  “Are you doing the ceremony?” Bailey asked as they drew closer to the long building, and the activity that surrounded it.

  Dane chuckled and said “Not I.”

  The day seemed unusually quiet given the circumstances and Bailey found himself checking each and every innocent shadow in sight incase it could conceal some other kind of danger he hadn’t foreseen. But there was nothing now it seemed, and although their escape plan was fully in motion, it seemed the whole sleepy city was oblivious to the fact.

  They took a short cut across the grass to the gathering of wedding cars at the front, and then entered by the tall bricked archway. They passed two doors on either side, one each for the bride and groom, and then entered the main hall together.

  The old Naturalistic Mind church was full of people, and beautifully lit by enormous stained glass windows standing up in the walls along its huge length.

  “I’ll see ya, Reverend.” Bailey said ghostly and walked around to the side and across the length of the church to the front, where he stood by a thick pillar being unable to find a spare seat.

  Dane stood at the back, watching Bailey until the music began and the couple walked in through the arch beside him. Once they had passed, he slipped back slowly out of the door, and ran away through the houses.

  Bailey noticed this vaguely but kept his attention on his friends, Lon Sagar and Dora Beldin, the only surviving members of the south and east syndicate families.

  He smiled at Lon as they reached the front, and then the music died down, and the fully robed reverend readied to bind them in marriage.

  “Here’s to the future!” a calm, kindly voice yelled inappropriately from the back, and on turning Bailey saw it was Nash with a few of his cronies, all crowded in the doorway.

  He threw a grenade forward along the aisle, and then turned and ran outside with the others, giggling.

  Bailey saw the next moment in slow motion, as the grenade bounced and detonated, tearing through the people sitting at the rear of the church. Everyone else was pushed forward in the blast including Lon and Dora, who fell forward over the stands on the stage.

  Bailey fell on his side at the left of the stage, and looked back across the length of the place at the hideously mangled bloodbath at the far side. In the aftershock, the stained glass windows slowly cracked and fissured, and then shattered one by one, showering the rest of the people with razors of glass.

  Lon had covered Dora with his body but the glass had fallen mainly at the back. Most people within the church were now dead, either from the initial blast or diced by the still falling stained glass.

  There was a sound like an old projector starting and from a tiny armoured device that had been attached to the grenade a large holo projection shone above the mangled death. It was the recording of the conversation between Bailey and Francine
in the restaurant, and then another recording Nash had apparently trawled up showing Bailey having sex with Francine in one of the robotic parking lots.

  Bailey looked at it in horror as it played in a loop, and then turned his head slowly to Lon who was now panting with rage. On an animal level it was clear that there was now murder between them.

  Lon stood up from the stage quicker than was really wise for his age, and leaped down to one of his injured body guards on the front row. He pulled open their long trench coat and reached to one of the inside pockets, and pulled out a double barrel cartridge gun.

  A little disorientated, Bailey scrambled to his feet at the others side of the stage. He leaped up like a cat to the nearest empty window frame and dropped down to the grass outside just as a shower of cartridge pellets hit the inside.

  The front of the church was a fair distance away, so Bailey immediately sprinted toward it. He made it around the corner just as Lon leaned out of the window and sprayed another shower of bullets in his direction. They tore up the grass just behind his feet, with just one of the pellets grazing his foot through the back of the shoe.

  Bailey yelped and ran with a limp toward the lane behind the old fashioned homes. He made it half way up the back street when Lon came running out of the front of the silent church.

  “Cursed Bastard!” he yelled after Bailey up the lane, then fired the shotgun at him.

  The shots sailed up the road as Bailey half jumped and half tripped toward the back yard of one of the homes. He landed on a pile of coal that had spilled out of a cupboard. Lon fired another shot that snarled as it flew up the road, hitting the side of the coal house and bursting it in a shower of bricks over Bailey.

  He lay in a daze as he heard Lon’s steps run closer. They stopped on the lane beside him and Bailey sat up and tried to focus his eyes.

  Lon aimed the shotgun and pulled the trigger, hearing only an empty click. He pulled the trigger twice more hearing again only the empty clicks in the chambers.

  He sighed, realizing he was out of shots, and let the gun drop out of his hands.