She didn’t think that was funny. My belt beeped once, then was silent.
“What was that?” she asked. She stared at me, still unsure whether to trust me or not.
“My belt buckle,” I said. “It’s a signal from my partner, Kohn, telling me we’ve got a cargo load to haul off planet.”
The police station glistened ahead. All the other buildings nearby were dark warehouses, or old units that had been condemned. Even though it was a Frontier World, it had its slums, too. I smiled at Renate and I let her walk into the station first. She gave me a half-smile in return.
I walked up to the desk sergeant, and he glanced down at me from his tall desk. He had a wary look in his eyes, and I could tell he was being hassled about something. He was slightly plump, and his face looked flushed. Either there was a lot of excitement going on and he was catching the flak, or he had been drinking. The nameplate on the desk said Heuser. He glared at me, and I could tell he was a by-the-rules type if ever I had seen one.
“What can I do for you?” he asked roughly. He only glanced at Renate. Spacers have a bad reputation with Police. They hate us and we hate them.
“You can help this young lady here,” I said, indicating Renate. “She just escaped from some kidnappers, and I had to help her escape from a gang that was out to kill her.”
“What?” he barked at me. His brown eyes bored into me, his balding head glistening in the bright light of the station. “When?”
“Well, I was going to visit the museum down the street, and I heard her scream for help. I helped her escape,” I said.
“How many?”, he asked.
It took me a second to realize he meant how many of the gang I had defeated. “Six,” I answered.
“Look,” he said, with a hard edge to his voice, “are you trying to tell me you saved that girl from a gang of six guys? What was their gang name?”
“The Cult,” Renate said loudly.
“The Cult?” Heuser said, and I could tell he didn’t believe us, even though Renate was wearing one of their jackets.
“If you don’t believe us, why don’t you go to the alley two blocks down the street and see the two punks laying on the ground?” I said.
“All right,” Heuser said with a snort. He got out a report form and starting filling it in. “Your names?”
As soon as Renate said her name, he jumped. He was suddenly very pleasant, and asked if we would forgive him, but it had been a very busy night. He pressed a button on his desk, and said that a policewoman would be coming in to help Renate get settled into one of their special rooms. I asked him what else I could do, and he let me fill out a lot of forms while he tried to soothe Renate.
She was much calmer now that she was in a police station. I didn’t blame her. She had been through a lot, and I wished her the best. I finished filling out the forms when the policewoman came into the room. She led Renate to a bench and talked to her. Renate seemed to calm down a lot, and she sobbed on the woman’s shoulder. I was glad to see that. She was at least letting some of her emotions out.
I walked over to Renate and asked the policewoman if there was anything I could do. She shook her head, and I smiled. I wished Renate luck and as I turned to tell Heuser that he could reach me at the port, he hit me. He smashed me on the side of the head with a wooden stick, and I saw stars.
I went down and, from out of nowhere, two policemen came in and began to drag me away. I vaguely heard Renate ask what was going on, but I didn’t hear much after that. The men were completely silent. They threw me onto something that was relatively soft, and I lay there, letting things get back to normal.
It took about ten minutes before I could get to my feet, and I found I was in a cell. I shook my head and groaned. At least they hadn’t tried to make my brains slide out of my ears. Heuser had just hit with enough force to get me out of the way for a time. I stood up and swayed a bit as a wave of dizziness and nausea roared over me. After a short time, I was feeling better, and I was content to sit there until they came in to tell me what was going on.
I then heard Renate scream.
3
I froze for an instant as the sound of it seared into my brain. There came another scream, but it was quickly muffled. I was shocked. What in the world could be happening in a police station? The sound had come from the main area of the police station. I could tell by the way the sound had echoed into the cell.
I stepped into the center of the cell and activated. The familiar surge of vertigo passed quickly, and I could feel the fangs and claws snap into place. I walked to the door of the cell, and made sure I had good traction on the floor with my feet. I shoved hard against the door, right at the point where the lock joined the door. There was a moment as the metal squealed in agony, then there was a loud CRACK! as the lock snapped. I shoved the door aside and ran up the corridor toward the main room of the police station.
There weren’t any other screams, and that worried me. I had no idea what was going on with the police, but I felt they were trying to harm Renate and keep me out of action. Why else would they have put me in a cell? I quietly opened the door that led to the main room.
Two policemen were holding a very unconscious Renate and looking slightly concerned. Heuser was standing by them, with a knockout gun in his hand, and a large smile creasing his thin lips. There was another police officer standing there smiling. I got the strangest feeling, however, that the officer would have gladly taken orders from Heuser. It was a rather sinister sight.
I knew the knockout guns merely fired drugs that kept people unconscious for about ten to thirty minutes, but it didn’t relieve my anxiety any as I noticed how limp Renate sagged between the two policemen holding her.
“I’d leave her alone,” I said loudly as I walked into the room, “if I were you.”
Heuser and the officer stared at me as the two men holding Renate dropped her and reached for their slug- guns. I guess they’d never seen a modified man before.
Heuser was screaming at them to forget about me and get Renate out of there as he raised his hand to fire his gun at me. The officer ran toward the safety of the other offices around the corner. I had immediately launched myself at the two men who were drawing pistols. I spread my arms wide as I flew toward them and before they had cleared their holsters, I grabbed the back of their heads and smacked their foreheads together and threw them aside. I landed between them as they began to fall to the floor and slapped Heuser’s gun out of his hand as he began to turn towards me. I backhanded him with my left hand across the face, and he went flying against his big desk. I must have scratched him, because there was a gash on his cheek. He was out of it.
I glanced quickly around and looked out the glass front door. There was a patrol car coming to a stop at the foot of the steps. Heuser made a noise as he got to his feet and pressed a button on his desk top. He looked as if he was really hurt. I bent down and scooped Renate into my arms. I ran toward the door, shoved it open, and was outside. I jumped to the pavement, ignoring the steps, and with an extra surge and using all the momentum I had gained on my leap, I hopped over the patrol car. The car was a standard model. Black and white, six pneumatic tires, a gunball machine on top, and armor plating and was also fusion powered, which was nice, since I wouldn’t have to worry about fuel.
I landed by the driver’s door just as he stepped out. I shuffled Renate to my left arm as I picked up the driver and threw him down the street about ten feet. He landed with a roll, but he still had difficulty getting to his feet. I used that brief moment to find out the car was totally empty. I had a funny feeling it had come to pick up Renate. I carefully deposited her in the spare seat and slid behind the wheel. I closed the door just as the fireworks began.
Slugs slammed against the car as I glanced at the control panel. The police were getting very anxious about something. I noted the fusion plant was still generating, and the main screen said all modes were in. I’d had a chance, when I was still in training for my Pilot�
��s certification, to drive a patrol car. I had a fairly good idea what I was doing. That had been quite some time ago, but this was a backwater planet, so that basic model was similar to the one I had driven.
I pressed the activate stud and gripped the wheel. The drive comp took about three seconds to check off all the things that had to be perfect. And then, we were off.
The bullets were still pinging off the hull of the armor plated patrol car, but I wasn’t worried about that. I just hoped there wasn’t a way for them to override the vehicle’s main comp so they could take over. I doubted they could. That was only possible in later models, and I had never seen any of those. But I wasn’t sure they hadn’t modified the patrol car I was taking. I was a little worried.
The car was whipping down the street at a good clip. I didn’t have any real destination, but I knew I wanted to get back to the Strip. Kohn more than likely had the cargo loaded, and was waiting in his hotel room for me to wake him up tomorrow. I hope he hadn’t turned off his belt beeper. I reached down to my buckle, and pressed the transmit stud: once, then quickly twice, then once more. It was the all points alert, the major disaster code, whatever you want to call it. If Kohn had his belt on, he’d drop whatever he was doing and get over to the ship. Fast. Even if he was just in hearing distance of the beeper. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to leave him in Firelight, but I was determined not to be caught.
All I had to do was find my way back to the Strip. That, however, wasn’t going to be easy, since I was lost. I began pressing buttons on the main drive comp, trying to decipher the codes of the city. It blinked at me a couple of times, but nothing really intelligible came on the screen. I finally decided on the frontal approach. I tapped instructions into the comp to kill any tracking devices on the vehicle, citing a priority red mission. I assumed they would have such a thing. It acknowledged my request and asked for further information.
The police were furious when the tracer went out. I could hear them, via the radio, telling me to stop the car and surrender, but I wasn’t feeling that stupid. I asked the comp to take over the driving of the patrol car, and get as close to the Strip as possible, as fast as possible. I knew there could only be one name for the Strip, and that’s the Strip. On a world like Firelight, there could only be one. ,
I turned to Renate and saw she was breathing normally. I deactivated. I knew that when she awoke, the drugs of the knockout dart would keep her calm and under control for the next three days. It would make her easier to deal with since the hysterical feelings about her attack would be under control. I shook my head. I didn’t like going in and out of the fight mode that many times in such a short time. It did strange things to my body.
The lights on top of the car were blinking and whirling like mad as the comp whipped us through the streets, siren howling. There was very little traffic on the roads, but what was there got out of our way fast.
I wondered again why the police had tried to hold Renate. It didn’t make any sense at all. They could have held her calmly and I would have just walked out of their lives. They should have known I wasn’t a normal person when I told them how I’d defeated their little gang. They had also made the mistake of slugging me hard, but not hard enough to knock me out long enough. I wondered what had caused Renate to scream? I would have to wait until she woke up to get an answer to that question. But the other questions were still unknowns. I had a gut feeling, however, that Heuser was involved in all of it.
The buildings whizzed past us as we rushed along. The time must have been around 8 pm, local, and I knew Firelight was a Central Standardized planet. It made life a lot easier for Spacers and locals if they kept a Standard Day and year, even if their planet revolved on its axis every 27 hours and took 1.4 Standard years to complete an orbit. It just made for funny New Years’ parties. If all evened out in the end.
The police finally figured out where I was headed. They had, at last, taken into account my green jumpsuit and its silver starburst, plus added the fact that Spacers usually hung around the Strip. Astounding! Sometimes, the police truly amaze me with their blinding revelations. I shook my head as I put my boots back on.
The patrol car slowed, and the mainscreen asked for further instructions, since it was near the Strip. Patrolling the Strip is a direct violation of Central Code and no jerkwater planet like Firelight was about to risk a battle with Central over The Code. Only extreme emergencies of a planetary scale allow police to patrol Strips. I told the car to stop.
I opened the door to the car and struggled with Renate. She was still pretty much out of it, though she could manage to walk. People were staring but no one said a word to us. It’s one of the things about the Strip. As long as you don’t bother anyone, no one would bother you. Besides, Renate’s actions would make it seem as if she were drunk, or had taken some sort of drug. And there were quite a number of drunks and druggers on the Strip at all times.
I would have been a lot faster to make it to the ship if I had activated, but I didn’t want to scare anyone. It’s one thing to have a group of Spacers curious, but it’s quite another to have them afraid of you. They tend to get very vicious at things that don’t make sense, and there aren’t too many people walking about modified. And as far as I know, I’m the only Cargo Hauler in all the Spheres that’s modified.
I walked along the sidewalk, Renate staggering along beside me. I smiled at the people who looked in our direction, and indicated Renate had been drinking by a motion of my hand. It was universally understood. The traffic on the sidewalk increased proportionally to the distance into the Strip I traveled. Some of the first people we had come across had seen us get out of the patrol car, but I knew not one of them would tell the police anything.
I came to a bar, and decided I’d better get to the ship a little faster. The bar was called the Fish Head Factory, and a tall, old man with gray hair was standing just inside the doorway. The nametag said something I couldn’t read, but then, I didn’t try too hard. He was taking care of the cover changes. He took one look at Renate, at me, and smiled as I came up to him.
“A table for two, discreetly in the corner?” he asked before I could say anything.
“Fine,” I said. “I’d like a phone. My lady friend here drank a little too much of the local stuff, and I have to get her out to the ship. You understand.” I winked at him. I tried to leer suggestively.
He nodded. “I understand perfectly, sir.”
I could tell he thought it odd that Renate was wearing an obviously cheap windbreaker and a pair of snug- fitting pants that were anything but cheap. He arched an eyebrow, and I paid him extra. The little plastic chits disappeared into his pocket, and I smiled as a woman with bare breasts, one painted yellow and the other green, led us to a table. I put Renate down in the chair, propped her up with my left hand, and ordered a drink. The man at the doorway brought over a phone.
Most of the waitresses in the bars on the Strip were women from the poor sections of the local city, or off- worlders stranded by their space-loving lovers. I thought it a little sad, but they thought of my type as pathetic. I would die in space, alone, and they’d at least die on a planet with someone. Most had children, and most didn’t know who the father was. Not that it mattered, since most of the children left their home planet to go into Free Space. Perhaps there is a genetic predisposition, or something.
I got the phone and drink, was overcharged, and called the taxi service. There wasn’t much left in my pockets, and I hoped the cost of the taxi wouldn’t be more than six times the normal price. I told the dispatcher where to send the taxi, got the price, and breathed a sigh of relief. I knew I could handle it.
The drink was terrible, as usual for a Strip bar. Bars and bartenders take advantage of Spacers, but we don’t mind. We expect it and since we are so overcharged, we don’t think twice about wrecking any of the bars in the Strip. The bars usually make up the cost of the damages on a slow night during the slack time of the year. Their profit margin is very high.
I was getting annoyed at the rotten music squawking out of the speakers near the table. Most of the people in the bar looked bored, even the hookers.
The taxi driver came in some time later, saw me, and walked over. He helped me get Renate to her feet, and we walked her to the taxi. She was semi-conscious and was starting to make a few noises as she noticed her surroundings.
“Look,” I said as soon as we were all in the taxi, “if you make it to the ship in five minutes, I’ll pay double. ”
“Fine,” the driver said, “what ship is it?”
“The Kraftwerk, Pad 18,” I said, drawing the numbers from my still aching head. I have numbers like that always ready for quick recall. It helps at times.
The driver was quick, and good. He dodged people as we whipped through the Strip, and as soon as we hit the pad area, he was soaring along. I held Renate tight, since she had fought us like crazy over the seat belts. The old vehicle slipped past the bright and shiny Union Ship, past the others, and I could see the Kraftwerk.
We stopped by the ship. I glanced at the fare, doubled it in my head, added the tip, and waited for the driver to open the door and help Renate out. She was a little awkward to deal with. I got out, and held Renate as I gave him the money. I added a little extra.
“You never saw me before,” I said as I handed him the extra. It was all the money I had.
“Seen who?” he asked as he got into his vehicle and sped off.
I watched him speed away, walked to the ship, and pressed the intercom button.
“What the hell is it?” Kohn’s voice snapped from the small speaker near the hatch where the ladder came from.
“Look, I’ve got a passenger for us, and we’ve got to get off-world, and fast!” I explained. “Start the procedures. I’ll try to explain when we’re in Free Space.”
“You’d better make it good,” Kohn said harshly. “I was in the middle of a fantastic game when you beeped.”
The Space Mavericks Page 3
