Desperate Measures

by Michael Anderle

  Annoyance filled her. The effort before her was almost insulting.

  Julia tapped at her PNIU to summon Security. “Who is your master?”

  “Excuse me, ma’am?” The man stared at her with a confused look.

  “Shoji? Farad? Ivan?” Julia scoffed. “Whom do you work for?”

  “I work for you.” Jamieson shook his head. “I don’t know who any of those people are. Are you talking about my supervisor? That’s—”

  “Don’t waste my time with this pathetic act.”

  Julia sighed, lightly dusting her black dress. No matter how much she was told nanoknitting could repair anything, it never felt the same when something was damaged, and she suspected the next few minutes might end with blood and a torn dress.

  She stepped out of her heels. Confidence shouldn’t replace practical preparation in any dangerous situation.

  Jamieson’s brow lifted. “If I’ve done something to offend you, ma’am, please let me know how to make up for it. I’m terribly sorry. They said to go check on you and see if you wanted anything. I didn’t realize you wanted to be left alone.”

  His tone was plaintive, as was his face. It made Julia want to rake her nails over it and draw blood.

  “You have offended me, yes, by your incompetence.” Julia scoffed. “I was wondering how you could have gotten close to me with my normal preparation, but now I understand. It’s brilliant in a way.”

  “You understand what?” His eyes looked at the empty room before coming back to rest on her. “I’m lost.”

  “You aren’t a special, highly-trained killer,” Julia explained, circling her hand. “A mercenary or a criminal with a history and the necessary skills. There’s no way you would have gotten onto this ship if there was any hint of suspicion. My people check too thoroughly. And trust me, Sophia tried many times to sneak someone of real talent close to me, just to watch she might claim, but I knew she would take the opportunity if she had it.”

  Jamieson’s shoulders slumped and he trembled. “I don’t know who Sophia is.”

  She shook her finger at him. “Do you want me to explain who and what you are? This is self-indulgence, I’ll admit that, but it does bring me some small pleasure in letting you know how spectacularly you have failed.”

  “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” The man swallowed, and his gaze dipped to his PNIU. “May I go, ma’am?”

  “No, you certainly may not.”

  He looked up. “Then…I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “I want you, my feeble little man, to listen,” Julia spat. “Oh, I’m sure you have some sad story. I’m sure your records say you’re a good man who has always obeyed the law. There’s nothing in there to indicate you are even remotely antisocial.”

  “That’s true.” The man nodded quickly. “That’s why I think you’ve made a mistake. To be honest, ma’am, you sound paranoid.”

  “No, Jamieson. I’ve simply deduced the most likely scenario.” Julia flicked her wrist dismissively. “But I’ll commend you to your commitment to your deception despite my detection of it.”

  She pursed her lips. There were no alarms, and Security hadn’t arrived. She tapped her PNIU again. The new arrival must have been carrying a jammer.

  That was more skill than she expected from the type of man in front of her, but that only meant his handlers were thorough.

  “You see, it’s difficult to kill me with a bomb,” Julia replied with a sigh. “That would be what most would attempt, and yes, bombing my ship right before a trip would be one of the more likely spots, but I have my ships so thoroughly swept that it’s impossible. Attacking me at one of my homes would be impossible without an army, and one cannot move an army without making detectable waves. It’s the same for any of us, really.” She snorted. “The only reason I even tried to bomb Sophia was that she was sloppy and off-world.”

  “Bomb?” Jamieson squeaked. Beads of sweat dripped down his face. “You’re saying you’ve killed someone?”

  “Killed someone? Oh, yes, little man. I’ve killed countless people.” Julia gave him a cold smile. “Not with my own hands, of course. I’ve done that, too, but I’ve ordered many more people killed or set in motion events that led to their deaths.

  He eyed her, this time with a little backbone in his glance. “You’re saying that like it’s nothing.”

  “I don’t kill maliciously,” Julia offered along with a smile. “I’m not evil, but sometimes people are in the way, and I do what I need to for the greater good. Humans are animals in the end, and animals die all the time at the hands of other animals.”

  “W-why are you telling me all this?” Jamieson asked, backing toward the door and reaching into his pocket.

  If the man was a suicide bomber, she might have trouble, but she doubted it. Nothing about him fit the profile. He wouldn’t have bothered talking to her instead of charging and exploding.

  No. He needed to get close to her. Poison? Nanopatch?

  “I’m telling you this because I suspect you’ve never killed anyone before.” Julia gave him a pitying look and waved a hand at him. “Let me further deduce the truth. You don’t have problems. It would have been too obvious, but there’s someone you know who is in financial distress, a lover most likely. Not a relative; screening would have found that, too. You must work for one of my companies, or you wouldn’t have made it this far. Oh, it’s been a long time since I thought to manipulate your type in such a fashion, but now I see the advantages. It’s more difficult in some ways, but it can be useful in so many others.”

  “I-I already explained this. I was transferred here. I work at a resort owned by one of your companies.” Jamieson stopped moving toward the door and took a deep breath. “There was a promotion opportunity, and I took it.”

  There was no pleasure in defeating a cowering, whimpering animal, but an interrogation would be pointless. There would be too many layers between Jamieson and the puppet master.

  “As I said, I admire the strategy,” Julia continued with a genuinely warm smile. “It’s clever in its own way, despite the implied desperation. I don’t even care how much they offered. A small amount of money is impressive to people like you. You’ve probably even convinced what you’re about to do is somehow righteous. That you’ll be helping your friend and killing a tyrant at the same time. They’ve taken a pathetic fool and thrown you at me, hoping that against all chance, you’ll get me. I’m sure they even had you practice, but you’re not a killer. You might try to kill me, but I can see it in your eyes. You’re afraid, not of me, but of what you’re supposed to do, and that’s why you failed the second you stepped into this cabin.”

  Jamieson’s eyes widened. “You know? Y-you can’t.”

  “Of course I know, fool.” Julia strolled toward her desk. “Unfortunately, this isn’t where I offer you more money not to do it. That would end nicely and neatly for both your friend and us, but alas.”

  “W-why not?” Jamieson licked his lips. His hand now rested deep in his pocket. “This isn’t about my greed, you know. I have a friend. She’s in bad shape. Her father did things he wasn’t supposed to, and now he’s in prison, but she didn’t know about it. My friend, she’s got serious problems, along with Nanorejection Syndrome. She’ll die if she doesn’t get this money for her treatment.”

  “So?” Julia leaned against the back of her desk. “Why is the condition of some random person I don’t even know relevant to this situation?”

  “Didn’t you hear me?” Jamieson yelled, his face reddening. “She’ll die. She’s never hurt anyone. She doesn’t deserve to die because her father blew all their money and got himself locked up. I d-don’t want to hurt you, or anyone, even if you have killed people. I just want to help her.”

  Julia raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t deserve to die? What does her death have to do with my life?”

  “Good people don’t deserve to die. None of this situation is her fault.” Jamieson cut through the air with his h
and. “She’s done nothing but try to live her life.”

  Julia pushed away from the desk. “Good people? Her fault?” Her mouth twisted into a snarl. “She’s weak, so she deserves to die.”

  “How can you say that?” His eyes flashed. “Don’t you have any sympathy?”

  “Because that’s the way of nature? There is no shortage of humans in the galaxy.” Julia sneered. “A few deaths here and there in the big picture, which you obviously can’t comprehend, are irrelevant, and she very much does deserve to die.”

  “You rich bitch,” screamed Jamieson. “You don’t know what it’s like when you don’t have everything you could ever want!”

  “Again, a point that is irrelevant. Don’t you see? She deserves to die because she isn’t strong enough to solve the problem herself.” Julia shook her head, her disdain fairly radiating from her face. “You think she didn’t know about her father, Jamieson? She knew, but she chose to look the other way when it was convenient. If your friend had any sort of wit or strength of will, she would have figured out a way to make his death benefit her and kill him. An emotional plea for him to take out insurance and then have him murdered, or something like that. But sitting there whimpering about how she didn’t know when her genetically flawed self is dying? Pathetic.” She spat, “It churns my stomach.”

  Jamieson pulled a knife out of his pocket. “Thank you, ma’am. I didn’t think I could do this, but you’ve made it easy, and haven’t you read what the Purists say? Nanorejection Syndrome might be a sign of someone who is a better human because they don’t have to rely on machines.”

  “What’s your grand plan? Hmm? Say you do kill me? You’ll never escape this ship.”

  Jamieson licked his lips. “I will if I kill you and run in the next few minutes.” He lifted his chin. “You think you’re so much better than me? Smarter? Why? Because you were born rich? You think I didn’t notice you trying to call for help on your PNIU?” His eyes bulged. “Surprise, bitch! No one’s going to know what’s going on in here.” He patted his other pocket. “They helped me make sure of that. Now I’m going to take out a monster and save a life at the same time.” His eyes widened in understanding. “I’ll be a hero.”

  He stalked toward her, all hesitation gone. Julia could finally bring herself to grant him a smidgen of respect. Granted, he was a fool, but at least he was a committed and brave fool at the end.

  “Do you know why I can’t just pay you to let me live?” Julia asked.

  Jamieson stopped, his brow wrinkling in confusion. “Because you’re too arrogant? We can make a deal if you want. I think you’re awful, but I care more about my friend than killing you.”

  “No. That’s not it. We can’t make a deal because I’ve already told you too much, but that’s the sad part of this. The minute we began this conversation, your life was forfeit. Sometimes,” she shot a look at her fingernails before looking back at Jamieson, “I’ll admit this is a vice. It is amusing to speak openly about my plans to people who know nothing of them.”

  Julia looked him up and down. “Shoji or Constance, I suspect. I’m dubious the others would rely on this sort of gambit, but I could be wrong. Just so you know, after you’re dead, I’m going to make sure no money goes to your flawed, weak, and useless little friend. Her death will make the human race all the stronger, without her flaws continuing to the next generation.” Her eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t have any children, correct? I’d hate to have to kill them, too.”

  Jamieson screamed and charged, the knife held in front of him. Julia smiled sweetly, waiting for his arrival. She sidestepped the blow with ease.

  He swung at her and she whipped up her arm, grabbing his wrist in a lightning-fast motion. She squeezed, and he cried out in pain as the bones cracked in her iron grip. The knife clattered to the ground, and Jamieson stumbled backward, groaning.

  “H-how?” He clutched his wrist.

  Julia snapped out her leg. Her kick connected, and the man howled as he flew across the room and slammed into a wall with an audible crunch. He fell to the floor, groaning, beneath the image of the gentle ocean waves.

  “You’re a Tin Man,” Jamieson moaned. He coughed up blood.

  Julia scoffed. “Of course not. The problem with introducing machines into the body is they make a mockery of its potential.” She strolled toward the fallen man and crouched by him. “Machines need to be repaired, but bodies repair themselves.”

  “You’re stronger than a man twice your size,” wheezed Jamieson. His chuckle was dark. “Don’t tell me that’s because you hit the gym.”

  “No, no, no. I didn’t say I didn’t have any modifications, just that they aren’t cybernetic in nature.” Julia smiled down at the man. “A long time ago, a small group of people became aware of the greatest race in history, a race most don’t even know of called the Hunters. In examining the remains of that race’s great works, that small group of people realized the true future is in biological enhancement, Jamieson. The path of technology is the feeble dead-end of lesser races.”

  “You’re a monster.” Jamieson spat blood at her face. “A yaoguai.”

  “No. I told you already.” She grabbed him by the throat and lifted him. “I’m the woman who will rule humanity forever. I am a goddess.”

  Julia squeezed until the bones in his throat cracked under the pressure. His eyes bulged, and he gagged. She watched him until the end, enjoying seeing the life leave his eyes more than she remembered the last time she’d killed someone.

  She tossed the body aside and reached into his pocket to find the jammer. After snapping it in half, she clucked her tongue.

  “I wasn’t planning to kill any more of you soon, but one of you has forced my hand. Pity.”

  Chapter Six

  July 9, 2230, Neo Southern California Metroplex, Private Hangar of the Argo

  The engine room of the Argo was cramped, too cramped for Erik’s taste. Low ceilings, odd tubes, and heavy doors separated the control and diagnostic center from the reactor. If he spent any serious time in there, he’d be constantly hitting his head or stubbing his toe.

  It didn’t help that Lanara had filled half the already confined area with cryptic data windows filled with numbers and colorful graphs. His knee slammed into a panel hidden by two data windows.

  “Damn it.” He reached down to massage the pain away. “Are all engine rooms this small, or does that redheaded gremlin like it this way?”

  Lanara crouched next to an open panel. Intricate bundles of cables crisscrossed inside, some opaque, others illuminated. She waved a small cylindrical silver probe back and forth.

  “2.2, 3.32, 2.15, 3.15,” she mumbled. “2.05, 3.05, 4.5? What the hell? 3.12, 2.11.”

  Erik moved closer to her as she continued her diagnostic work. He could do okay with basic flitter and exo maintenance, but ships remained the inscrutable province of specialists in his mind. He’d spent enough time around Lanara to guess that today’s efforts likely had something to do with her continuing quest for perfect efficiency, not a bad trait in an engineer.

  “Reroute from that system and reduce its power by one-point-two percent,” Lanara continued. “There shouldn’t be any functional loss even with the planned splits. Maybe I can do something with fuel efficiency at an earlier stage?”

  Erik folded his arms and waited. Woe to anyone who dared interrupt the great Engineer Quinn when she was working. She reminded him of a lot of great engineers he had known in the past.

  Lanara snapped her head in his direction, her face a mask of irritation. “I can’t get the efficiency in sub-emitter 22 past ninety-eight percent. This is utter and complete bullshit! Why is everything complete garbage?”

  “Sub-emitter 22?” Erik asked, his tone clearly indicating how lost he was. “Is that something I can help with?”

  “Obviously not.” She hissed. “Do you even know what it is?”

  Erik shrugged. “No.”

  “It’s part of the internal grav field system,”
Lanara growled and stood, jamming her probe into the front pocket of her coveralls. “And it’s pissing me off. Was this built by some loser high on Dragon Tear?”

  “Possibly?” Erik glanced at the exposed cables. “Is that a big deal? I know we haven’t taken her out in a while, but you didn’t mention this before.”

  Lanara rolled her eyes. “It’s the prototype, Blackwell. That’s why it’s important.”

  “A prototype for what?”

  “My efficiency strategy for all,” she rotated a hand above her head in a circle, “the sub-emitters.” Lanara kicked the wall. “But it won’t cooperate! If I can get this one figured out, I can get the others figured out, and then we actually are talking about gaining half a percent in power efficiency overall.” Her eyes took on a religious reverence and her voice softened as she spoke to no one, he figured, but herself. “Think of all that extra power.”

  Erik doubted that would amount to much in a battle, but he kept the thought to himself. He could be wrong. Lanara had accomplished amazing things with the ship, so maybe she was on to something. He would stick to firefights and leave the modifications to her.

  Emma materialized in matching coveralls, her hair in a ponytail. “Is this something I could help with?”

  Lanara shook her head. “It’s not an analysis problem. According to most standard theories, I’m already pushing things.” She shook out her hands. “It’ll come to me. I just need time to think about it.”

  “Very well, then.” Emma disappeared.

  Lanara stomped over to Erik, craning her neck up to look at him. “Why are you here, Blackwell? We don’t have a mission. Alina never tells you without telling me.”

  “I need your help,” Erik explained with a smile. “It’s something only you can do.”

  “I know, I know, more guns and all that.” Lanara waved a hand. “That’s more involved than you think it is. Same thing with the shields and other systems. If it was easy to make a perfect warship, the Fleet would have done it a long time ago.”