by Nathan Pedde
“Glad I can help, what can I do for you?”
“It’s almost three in the afternoon. In twelve hours, I’ll be giving your other classmates their assignment.”
“There assignment?” Des asked. “What’s mine?”
“Your assignment starts now.”
Des was silent for a moment. “What is the assignment?”
“As the student at the top of the class, you’re the ‘special player’ in the game of tag,” Mr. Smith said.
“A child’s game?” Des asked.
“Perhaps. Yet, you have so many fun toys.”
“How long do I have to last?” Des said.
“As long as you can,” Mr. Smith said.
“Can I ask any more questions?”
“A few. Perhaps.”
“Can I change my face?” Des asked.
“I would take this time to give a counter-story to your family you have left,” Mr. Smith said. “The earpiece is stuck in your ear until I say so. The more knowledgeable ones will know it gives out a distinct signature when looked at through the right optical lens.”
“So, run and not be seen?” Des asked.
“No,” Mr. Smith said. “They’ll have to shoot you with a pin shooter and knock you out. Then tag your ear. Maybe drag your sorry ass to a warehouse.”
“Then—”
“And no help,” Mr. Smith said. “Not from your team. That’s cheating.”
“Great. Run, hide, don’t get shot, and no help.”
“And did you get the disk yet?” Mr. Smith said. “It’ll be easier to do without a horde of other spy cadets hunting for you.”
Mr. Smith left the call with a click.
Des took a deep breath and left the bathroom. He needed to go to the building and figure out a plan. He had twelve hours before things changed. Standing in the middle of the hall was Mr. Mixon talking to Mr. Goldhat. They were in an in-depth discussion about the war. To Des, it seemed like they were always talking about the war.
Sitting in Mr. Mixon’s back pocket was his blue key card. If he could only take it somehow.
Des remembered the straightforward plan of getting into Mr. Mixon’s locker at the gym. He knew Cooley took precious time to do the research, which would hurt him to not use it. However, the target was right in front of him.
He pulled out his phone and walked towards him. Des opened his InstaPic application, pretending to look at pictures. He had never done what he was about to do, but he had little choice in the matter.
He walked into Mr. Mixon, and as he collided with him, he dropped his phone out of his hands. In one swift motion, while both Mr. Mixon and Mr. Goldhat’s eyes were on the falling phone, Des slipped the key card from the back pocket and palmed it.
“Sorry, Mr. Mixon,” Des said. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Perfectly all right,” Mr. Mixon said, bending over to pick up Des’s fallen phone.
With the eyes diverted, Des slipped the key card into his pocket.
“What were you looking at?” Mr. Mixon said as he opened the phone.
The phone was what Cryslis liked to call a burner phone. It had a random number allowing those critical people like his uncle to call him. Still, if someone were to ever get a hold of the phone, they would have no contacts or other relevant information.
The screen of the phone flashed open to reveal what he was looking at on the InstaPic application. Pictures of women in bikinis.
“I’m not sure if that’s appropriate,” Mr. Mixon said.
“Sorry, sir,” Des said.
“Oh, leave him be,” Mr. Goldhat said. “The war is winding down. Once it is done, he can take a trip to Ganymede and see the golden sand beaches and beautiful women.”
“Perhaps,” Mr. Mixon said, handing the phone back to Des, “be careful next time.”
Des left the school, trying not to look like he had just stolen something. The worse part was, he was disappointed no one would ever know about his spectacular pull. Neither Cooley, Cryslis, or Elsie knew he was trying to raise his grades up. He was keeping secrets from them, and they would be furious at him if they were ever to find out. He felt like he was slipping down the rabbit hole too far.
Chapter Four
The rest of the day went by like they all did. He rode his hover-scooter to the Courier One office, changed into his cheesy red uniform, without seeing or talking to Diplin or his father and Des’s boss, Mr. Anderson. He took the red scooter around the station, delivering packages, love notes, and court summons to unsuspecting people.
Once his parcel bag was empty, he weaved his way through the streets back to the office. A quick change of wardrobe later, and he was on his way. This time, he didn’t go home like he usually did. He had a task to complete, and time was running out, Mr. Smith’s assignment was going to activate in a few hours. Once it did, he would be on the run.
Des thought he could run to his backup plan. However, it was something he wasn’t willing to have anyone discover it. It was his insurance policy if shit got too real. After Alix was arrested for being the saboteur, he built a hiding place just for him. It was someplace he was sure only a few knew about in the entire station. It was something he had no intention of letting anyone know, not unless he had to.
He drove his hover-scooter through the streets of the Teal Sector. The familiar sights, sounds, and smells soothing to him. Parking his scooter two blocks away from the school cameras, he walked the rest of the way to the school. The lights of the station still shining as the station administrators hadn’t dimmed them yet.
It was something that puzzled Des. When he lived in the underwater city-towers of Europa, they didn’t try to mimic the Terra day. The habitat’s lights stayed the same brightness. However, it wasn’t like he lived anywhere near the surface and the sun. The station mimicked Earth.
Des arrived at the school, and he checked his watch. It was seven o’clock at night, the lights would dim as dusk approached. He looked around the school grounds, the field, still filled with kids playing soccer or baseball. A few hover-cars sat parked in the parking lot.
Des glanced around at the different vehicles, checking for Mr. Mixon. The hover-cars all looked similar in appearance, the same shape, and style for everyone. The only difference was a set of numbers painted on the side above the door and the color.
He spotted Mr. Mixon’s car, parked in the same place, which was odd to Des.
I stole his key card. I bet he’s tearing the school apart looking for it,Des thought.
Des walked across the street from the school, a row of offices with apartment flats above them. Half the offices closed due to the war. The workers were in other professions or off fighting the Terrans.
He walked up to one side of a building and stood underneath a fire escape. Its metal ladder still up, waiting for someone to pull it down. He looked to either side and jumped up. He grabbed the bottom rung of the ladder, pulling it down with a sharp metallic grinding noise.
Des waited in silence, examining the few windows overlooking the alley. Curtains covered each of the windows. No one peeked their heads out to check out the racket.
With light footsteps, he climbed the ladder, pulling it up when he got to the top. He climbed the stairs, finding himself on the roof of the building.
Like most apartment buildings, there was a small rooftop garden. This one dedicated to different fruits and vegetables and was neatly tended to.
Des sat down on the roof, at a place where he could watch the school, but not be seen by anyone looking.
Mr. Mixon’s car was still where it was a moment ago, not a single teacher insight.
Time ticked on as he waited for the lights to dim, to mimic nighttime. Streetlights flicked on, giving people the security of being able to see.
After another hour, the last hover-car lifted off the ground and left. It was time to finish the mission, then Des had to find a hiding spot.
Sheemo O’Neal sat at a table of the Greasy Burger Diner. The di
ner was filled with a few patrons at the tables. They looked to be workmen tired and in their work clothes as well as kids wearing various uniforms of the different schools in the sector.
He thought it was slightly odd they were still in their school uniforms. However, he didn’t judge them for it. He personally got out of his uniform soon as he could.
In Sheemo’s hand was a tablet. He read a textbook about Quantum Mechanics and Bipolar Singularities. It was a hard topic to understand and above his grade. But Sheemo wanted a challenge, and exams would be coming up soon with the year ending in a few weeks.
Sheemo was at the top of his grade. He could slack-off in the exam and still manage to pull off a top tier mark. He could read the romance novel his fingers itched to touch. However, he needed to concentrate on his schoolwork until after exams.
Unlike most schools where they would be done in high school at eighteen, at the academy, they had to do an additional year before he had to go off into the real world. He would have to either join the military as an enlisted man, or he could try to get into the Officer Core, which was his plan.
He was distracted by the escape the novel provided him, getting his mind from his younger brother. To Sheemo, Des didn’t make any sense to him, and he didn’t do what was expected, what was right. Des’s grades suffered, dropping when he should be at the top of his class. Sheemo knew Des was distracted when he should have been concentrating. Sheemo didn’t know what was distracting Des. He wondered if Des had gotten involved in criminal activity of some sort. However, that didn’t make any sense either. Uncle Jacob gave them everything they needed or wanted.
Boredom. Maybe he’s bored?Sheemo thought.
A few minutes later, the waitress walked up to the table with a big, thick juicy burger and a milkshake.
“I have a ‘Big Henry’ burger and a chocolate milkshake?” the waitress asked.
He looked up, expecting to see the younger woman who usually worked at this time. However, the woman was older in her mid-thirties with a tired face and droopy cheeks.
“Yes,” Sheemo said, putting the tablet on the other side of the table.
“Eating alone?” the waitress asked, setting the plate of food and the drink on the table.
“Kinda,” Sheemo said. “I’m studying for school.”
“It’s odd I see lots of you kids coming in here more often than I remember,” the waitress said.
“Why is it odd?” Sheemo asked.
“I’ve been working here for years, and this diner has been a place for factory workers, not high school kids.”
“Did you not want us to come here?”
“No, no. It is just an observation,” the waitress said. “I like seeing new faces. Encourage your friends.”
“Then I’d never get any studying done,” Sheemo said.
The waitress laughed, walking away.
Sheemo ate his food, pondering the waitress, and his brother. Midway through his burger, in between a couple bites, his phone rang. The number came up unlisted. Sheemo frowned at the phone, answering it.
“Hello?” Sheemo asked.
“Sheemo O’Neal?” a garbled voice replied.
“Yes?” Sheemo said. “Speaking.”
The person on the other side of the phone hung up. He looked at the phone for a moment before he put the phone back down.
Sheemo finished his burger and milkshake. With his dinner done, Sheemo picked up his tablet once more and continued reading the textbook.
The pages droned on and he re-read the information a couple times for it all to make sense. He highlighted sections of the text where he didn’t fully understand. He would have to investigate those parts more closely.
After a half-hour went by, Sheemo’s phone rang. He looked down at the phone’s display.
This time it said it was his brother and Sheemo answered it.
“What,” Sheemo said.
“What do you mean, what?” Des asked. “You called me.”
“No, I didn’t,” Sheemo said.
“I swear that—”
Des stopped talking for a brief second.
The kid’s gone nutters.
“If you are messing—” Sheemo began but was interrupted by Des.
“Shut up.” Des said. “Wherever you are, get out. Get out now.”
“Excuse me,” Sheemo said. “I’m at the diner. I still need to pay.”
“Then put it on my tab and go,” Des said.
“I’m confused,” Sheemo said.
“Then stay confused but do as I say.”
“Now I know you’re messing with me,” Sheemo said, hanging up his phone.
Sheemo picked up his tablet and started to re-read the page.
His phone rang again. It was Des once more. Sheemo answered his phone.
“What do you want?” Sheemo said.
“You need to leave the diner.” Des said. “You need to go now. I can’t explain it, but you—”
Sheemo hung up the phone. Almost immediately, the phone started to ring. He hit the decline button.
“Annoying brother?” the waitress asked at the side of the table.
Sheemo jumped a little. He looked up at the waitress. The waitress looked different than what she had looked like before. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but it must be his eyes playing tricks on him.
“Sorry if it bothered anyone…” Sheemo replied.
Sheemo looked around the diner. There was no one else in the restaurant.
“Where did everyone go?” Sheemo asked.
He looked back at the waitress. She held a stun gun, and it was pointed at his chest.
“Never mind that,” the waitress said. “Get out of the booth.”
Sheemo held his hands up. He glared at her as he slid across the seat. There was nothing more than he wanted to do than to punch her in the face.
“Lower your hands,” the waitress said. “Don’t make a scene or else.”
Rising to his feet, Sheemo was led toward the kitchen entrance. He could almost feel the gun on his back. He contemplated trying to elbow her, force the weapon away from the small of his back. However, the stun guns did have a kill setting and hair triggers. He didn’t get a good enough look to know if it was on stun or kill.
Behind him, a couple students walked into the restaurant. Sheemo was shoved through the kitchen door.
“I’ll be right with you,” the waitress said to the students. “Sit anywhere you’d like.”
Sheemo stumbled through the kitchen door and found three men in dark black suits waiting for him. They grabbed him with rough hands. Before Sheemo could do or say anything, a large black sack was thrown over his head. His hands were cuffed in front of him, and he was thrown to the ground. The wet smack of a fist connected with his eye, and a massive boot hit him in the gut.
He twisted in his bonds, testing their strength. In his mind, he puzzled together a plan on how to get out. Anything he could think of revolved around getting free of his bonds, which were not flexing in any way.
“You should have listened to your brother,” Accented Man said. “He’s a smart boy.”
“The kid has a tracker on his older brother’s phone,” Gruffer Man said.
“What type of tracker?” Accented Man asked.
“It tracks his location,” Gruffer Man replied, “and it called him when we do something like we did.”
“Should we be letting this one listen to us?”
“What do you mean?” Sheemo asked. “Why did my brother do—”
“Shut up,” Gruffer Man said.
“You see,” Accented Man said. “There’s more to your brother than what you know or realize. The boy has secrets.”
“I think his secrets have secrets,” Gruffer Man said.
“You’re going to be surprised when you find out about them,” Accented Man said.
“Tell me,” Sheemo said. “What have you gotten my brother into now?”
“We didn’t get him into anything,” Gruffer Ma
n said.
“It was thegood guysthat got him involved,” Accented Man said.
“The good guys?” Sheemo asked. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll soon find out.” Accented Man said. “Soon enough.”
“I think it’s time to put him to sleep now,” Gruffer Man said.
“Bad idea,” Sheemo said. “How do you explain to the security cameras how you dragged a limp body out on the back of a diner.”
“Not your problem,” Accented Man said.
“Night,” Gruffer Man said.
A large object smashed into the back of Sheemo’s head. Stars erupted in his eyes. He was expecting to feel the coldness of a concrete floor or tile floor. However, Sheemo felt the softness of the fabric like a rug or a carpet.
Sheemo was turned over and over as a rug was rolled up around him enveloping him and his mind his darkness.
Chapter Five
Des removed his necklace for his Ryder holo-disguise, hiding it in his pocket and replacing the nechlace with a new one. He pushed a button on his holo-disguise. The security cameras would see Mr. Mixon walking into the school late at night. Hopefully, they won’t notice he was shorter.
He climbed off the apartment building’s roof and down the fire escape. He crossed the street toward the school. With the station shut down for the night, the road was empty of pedestrians, and the park was devoid of kids. Everyone would be home eating dinner with their family or studying for final exams.
Des used Mr. Mixon’s security card and walked into the deserted school.
It’s so eerie, Des thought.
Even though it was closed for the night, he expected students and teachers lounging in the corridors. Even when empty, the school at this time of the year always had a life of its own. There was still a student working on a project, or a teacher marking an exam.
Not that he wanted someone to see him. The last thing he needed was for someone to stop and question him. He looked like Mr. Mixon. However, he didn’t sound like him.
This disguise took him days to configure, adding a realistic voice synthesizer was out of his skills. He would have to get Cooley to help. Except he had to make the disguise on his own.
