Alien Days Anthology

by P P Corcoran

  #

  Processing The Property

  Up close, Eline realized they weren’t medics at all. They were city organ harvesters. The harvest chip inside whoever lay on the wet pavement had alerted the harvest organization to which he’d sold his body. Or the harvesters had been dispatched to call in a debt. Either way, Kibble fit the profile. If it really was him, he was dead for sure. Both collectors had their backs turned to her as they worked, their slick, yellow rain cloaks flapping wildly in the wind and rattling with the rain.

  The nearest harvester attended the corpse while the other wrestled in vain with an uncooperative sheet of tarpaulin that was probably meant to act as cover for the scene.

  The harvester working on the body crouched over the subject, blocking the dead person’s face, but the length of the body suggested that it could be Kibble. There was no way of telling for sure without getting a closer look.

  Even just a little closer...She decided to go for it.

  Rain hammered the concrete and the tarpaulin snapped and crackled in the wind.

  Hopefully all this noise will mask me, she thought, taking a tentative step closer. One of the body’s hands had something resembling a piece of torn fabric clutched in a tight fist. Could belong to the attacker.

  One more step would have given Eline the view she needed, but the alcohol got the better of her, and she stumbled forward, sidestepping into a puddle while trying to regain purchase.

  Shit! How many glasses did I have?

  The nearest medic twisted onto his feet and pulled a mean-looking baton free from the folds of his cloak.

  Eline caught a quick glance of a tranquilizer gun on his hip.

  “I’m going to have to ask you to stand back, lady,” his voice grumbled.

  He bore down on Eline like a brick wall. Crouched over, the harvester had seemed so short and stubby, but standing upright, he loomed a head and a half taller than her and was built twice as wide. He stepped around a lamppost, allowing Eline a glimpse of the body. She gasped as the pain from earlier stabbed her in the heart again. It drove twice as deep as it had in the restaurant and felt thrice as cold.

  The harvester waved his baton as a warning.

  Eline lifted her open palms to show that she meant no harm, her head spinning with shock or brandy—or both. “I haven’t touched anything. I just want to know what happened.”

  “Our job isn’t to know what happened,” the harvester spat, bearing his long canines. “Our job is to process the property.”

  “Can I see your I.D. at least?” she pressed, trying to look over his shoulder.

  “Back through the barrier,” he growled undeterred. “This body is Medexia property, hear?”

  Eline took another step back toward the holo-barrier. She wasn’t surprised that Kibble had flogged his parts. Organs were big business and Medexia were one of the biggest in the game.

  The second harvester—a gangly male—finally untangled himself from the plastic and joined his colleague. “Need a hand, Butch?”

  “No,” Butch grinned. “Just caught this bitch snooping around. I got it under control.”

  Eline was certain she could take them both, but that would have risked drawing unwanted attention.

  “Okay, I’m going,” she said, stepping back into the blue light. The light shifted and shimmered before settling back into an opaque wall.

  “Bother us again, and we’ll harvest you instead!” Butch called after her.

  “Asshole,” she muttered. Waiting in the rain wasn’t ideal, but it was better than getting nabbed by law enforcement in the middle of a fight. She leaned against the medicar, her ear twitching as she listened for any snippets of conversation between the harvesters.

  “Leave the cover,” Butch said. Eline could barely make him out over the howling wind and rain. “Help me process this bastard before the cops arrive.”

  Distant sirens rang out as if in answer.

  “Fuck!” Butch shouted. Eline heard that part loud and clear. “This happens every damn time. Come on. If the cops get here before we’re done, you’re doing the paperwork.”

  Eline’s head snapped around, her ears straining to work out the direction of the sirens. If the cops arrived before the harvesters left, she’d never know what Kibble had been holding as he died. She’d lose any clue to what had happened to the old-timer.

  She slipped around the other side of the harvesting vehicle, taking care not to make too much noise in the water pooled around its wheels. She leaned out slowly, sneaking a peek at the harvesters as they worked. Both were crouched over the body now. One fished organs out of Kibble’s cavity while the other sealed them in black and yellow boxes.

  Maybe they’ll leave in time for me to check Kibble over before the cops arrive.

  The growing wail of sirens told her that was unlikely. The cops would be here in no time, and as frantically as the harvesters worked, it looked like they weren’t going anywhere in a hurry.

  Eline was about to pull back behind the vehicle when a strong gust snatched the plastic sheet from under a box. It whipped and crackled as the wind tossed it at Butch and his colleague, tangling them in a mess.

  “Didn’t I tell you to put it away!” Butch screamed from inside the tangle. “Get the damn thing off me!”

  Before Eline knew what she had done, she was kneeling at Kibble’s body while the dynamic duo tossed and turned under the yellow tarpaulin. She pried the fabric from Kibble’s cold, stiff fingers. He’d been dead for a while.

  “Hey!” Butch shouted. “What the hell did I tell you?”

  Eline turned in time to see the harvester bring up his tranquilizer gun. She darted for an alleyway. A pop rang out behind and something bit the inside of her right thigh. She bounced of the alley wall and pushed herself onward.

  “After her. She’s fresh!” Butch ordered.

  Eline drew her blaster and fired two shots at the harvesters, hoping it would deter them, before running through the darkness, slinking through shadows. She bounded over fences and took random turns in an effort to shake her pursuers. The energy quickly drained from her joints, and she leaned against a concrete wall concealed in the shadows of an overhanging fire-escape.

  The tranquilizer is taking effect.

  She checked where Butch had shot her and found a mere graze wound.

  No dart. But how much of the drug made it into my system?

  Judging by how heavy her legs were starting to feel, Eline guessed it was more than enough to do its job.

  She quickly checked her SIG and found her vitals were all over the place.

  Her numb fingers dipped into her utility belt pouch and fumbled several items, looking for her anti-sedative cocktail. Anyone with an ounce of sense always carried one. Organ theft was no rarity on Claracia, after all.

  Eline forced her unresponsive fingers to wrap around the syringe and plunged it into the side of her neck, the injector hissing as it dispensed the medicine.

  Within seconds, her head stopped spinning and feeling seeped back into her muscles. Her SIG showed her vital signs gradually returning to normal. She steadied her breath and took a moment to gather herself. She took the opportunity to check the piece of fabric she’d taken from Kibble’s corpse.

  She unfurled the sopping material, looking for some clue as to what it might be. It was thick and grey and frayed at the edges, like it had been torn from a uniform. She flipped it over and found part of a word: three characters that read ‘orp’.

  She swore under her breath. It didn’t make any sense. She stuffed it into her pouch anyway with a mind to think more on it later.

  Shouting rang out back the way she’d come. She vaguely recognized the voice as belonging to Butch.

  First, I need to lose these suckers.

  She tested her legs and they felt able to carry her weight once more. She pressed against the wall and forced her body back into a run, telling herself not to stop again, for if she did, she likely wouldn’t start again.

&nb
sp; #

  Always in An Alley

  Eline leaned against a dumpster, breathing heavily, the vile stench of rotting waste a tether to reality. The pain helped too. She focused on the burning in her thigh. Her legs rubbing together as she ran had upset the projectile wound, spreading a violent rash up her leg, but she was thankful for the pain, given that it was helping her stay conscious.

  Somewhere along the way, she had lost sense of time and direction. Much to her relief, she had also lost Butch and his friend—or so Eline figured. They wouldn’t have chased her so far, leaving their quarry unattended with the cops so close.

  She hadn’t even noticed the storm had passed. The rain had stopped, and the wind had died down, leaving a humid feel in the atmosphere.

  Other than the background city drones and the sharp slush of water falling from overflowing pipes, the alleyway had a quiet quality to it...that still quietness that rushed in to fill the void left behind every storm.

  Eline licked her dry lips and reached for the water canister on her belt. It was gone.

  Shit! I must have knocked it off when I was trying to get away.

  The sound of falling water drew her attention again. Her ears flicked as she traced the sound back to its source: a broken gutter running above a narrow side alley.

  She sidestepped into the crevice and stood under the cracked half-pipe, allowing the crisp water to shower her sweat-matted hair and face. She drank as the cold liquid ran under her cloak collar, soaking her under-armor and shocking a little more awareness back into her body.

  Eline finally shook her head, feeling more alert, but the beginnings of a headache pounded at the base of her skull.

  Whatever the harvesters were slinging these days was strong. She walked back to the main alley and listened for any sign of the harvesters one more time before making her way back toward the streets.

  She turned a sharp corner and a silver smear cut across her vision.

  She barely evaded the blade, and only because she was already fighting to keep herself steady.

  The cloaked attacker came at her again, moving with incredible speed. He swung his long knife in a wide arch.

  Eline feigned a move to the right—the wound shooting pain through her right leg—and twisted left at the last second.

  The knife struck the wall, jarring the wielder, and Eline drove her shoulder into his pelvis with what strength she had left. The attacker was much heavier than he appeared, but he stumbled back several steps, dropping his knife.

  Eline lost her balance and rolled sideways into a small mound of trash.

  The attacker reached down for his knife as Eline pulled her blaster from its holster.

  The assassin darted toward her.

  Eline pulled the trigger, taking him in the shoulder. The shot barely slowed his advance.

  In a panic, she aimed for the head and repeatedly pulled the trigger until her power cell ran dry.

  The cloaked foe lay inches away, smoke rising from what little remained of his head.

  He must be wearing a tactical exoframe kit under that cloak. If that’s the case, he’s got to be a hired assassin, but who the hell would go to the trouble of paying someone to kill me?

  Eline drew a deep breath and braced before climbing onto unsteady feet. She kept her blaster handy, just in case. Not that the weapon would be any use without time to recharge.

  She tapped him with the tip of her boot to make sure he was dead. Satisfied, she kicked part of the cloak away and found that he was wearing a TEK, and quite an expensive looking one too. She noticed that the cloak had been torn on the inside. A row of black letters stared back at her and her heart leapt. She removed the fabric Kibble had been holding and threw it onto the attacker’s cloak. It fit like a missing puzzle piece. Together the letters spelled Autonocorp. It took Eline a second to remember that Autonocorp was the umbrella organization that owned the company Vale and Kibble had tried to scam two years before—Malek’s company.

  Eline moved to the steaming mess that used to be a face. She kneeled down and pulled the tattered bits of hood out of the way with her free hand. She stifled a gasp. The assassin wasn’t a Shanti or even a Terran. It was some kind of advanced attack bot. She touched the melted skin on its face. The flesh felt real, but the frame underneath was solid metal. She looked into a hole she’d blasted through its forehead. Looks like I got it in the primary processing unit.

  She ran a quick scan to make sure the unit didn’t have a backup processor, but her readings indicated that it was dead.

  She had never encountered a machine that looked and moved so much like a person. Development of such technology had been forbidden by the Galactic Council after the robot uprising on Tlalox Prime half a century before. Malek and his company were waist deep in some serious shit. It explained a lot, but it didn’t explain why the android had attacked her.

  Maybe it was hiding in here after killing Kibble, and I stumbled on it by accident. Something told her that was wishful thinking. It was too much of a coincidence, and it didn’t explain why it had killed Kibble.

  Eline gave it some thought. She didn’t know why, but it seemed like Malek wanted everyone who knew anything about the heist killed. He had already killed Vale, and now Kibble. Eline knew it was only a matter of time before they got her too.

  Her ears twitched and her nose flared as footsteps approached from behind. She spun on her heel and brought up her blaster. The rifle butt snapped her head back and cast her consciousness into oblivion.

  #

  Bars and Guards

  Eline came to, her face pressed against a cold, hard surface. She peeled herself from the floor, her brain slushing around inside her skull like a lump of meat in a bowl of soup.

  She tentatively felt her broken nose as her eyes took time to adjust to the sudden light. It had set at an awkward angle and dried blood covered her nostril and mouth. She licked her lips and tasted the sharp tang of iron.

  The haze gradually cleared, and Eline found herself sitting on the floor of a small barred cell. A concrete bed with no blankets lined one wall and a rusted bucket sat in a corner. Otherwise, the cell was empty, the walls bare.

  She rocked forward onto her knees and fought down a wave of nausea as an icepick drove through the back of her skull. She controlled her breathing and waited for the agony to pass.

  Eventually, she crawled to the bars. She used the metal rods to pull herself onto her feet, ignoring the objections in her joints and bones.

  She looked through the gaps but couldn’t see anything bar a dull concrete wall with a security camera pointed at her cell.

  She was about to make her way back down to the floor when a bleep echoed in the hallway and a door slid open out of view to her right.

  A heavy-set Shanti in a TEK appeared before the bars with a smug look on his face.

  “So, the sweet angel is finally awake,” he said grinning. “You should be thankful the boss warned me to keep my hands off you. A bit of a pity, really.”

  He licked his lips and blew her a kiss.

  “What the hell do you want?” Eline spat.

  “Hey now angel. That’s no way to speak to a gent,” he said with mock hurt. “I just thought we could get to know each other a little is all. Sorry about the nose, by the way. Nothing personal.”

  “What does Malek want with me?” she pressed.

  The guard’s eyes lit up and he quickly made a poor attempt to conceal his surprise before giving up. “You’re a smart cookie, aren’t you? No one’s supposed to know Malek’s here. What gave it away?”

  “Answer my question first and I’ll answer yours. What am I doing here?”

  The guard shrugged. “Like I said, Malek wants to see you. That’s all I know.”

  “Bah,” she spat. “You expect me to believe that?”

  “I honestly don’t know. But I think it has something to do with missing that pretty sister of yours. He really liked that one, you know.”

  “What are you talk
ing about?”

  “Malek’s a man of...principles,” he said in an attempt to sound clever. “He treats his women well, but if they ever cross the line, he has to...take care of business. I reckon Malek regrets what happened, so he went after you. I could be wrong, but if I’m right, I wouldn’t blame him.”

  The guard winked with a cocky grin and went back the way he came.

  “Wait, I haven’t finished with you,” Eline croaked.

  “No funny business!” he called back down the hallway, ignoring her. “I’ll be watching you on the camera.”

  #

  Eline was dozing off when she heard a clank and the sound of a lock scraping. A second later, a bleep registered in the hallway.

  She immediately moved to the bars and found that the cell had been unlocked. She looked down at her feet and found a cardboard box sitting on a food tray.

  Am I dreaming? she wondered.

  She opened the box’s lid, and her eyes lit up. Her clothes were folded inside next to her SIG and a piece of paper. She felt around inside the box and found her utility belt, holster, and blaster buried under her clothing. She set the box aside and read the note.

  You have one chance to get out of here. Run and never come back. You’ll find a map loaded onto your SIG. It’ll show you the way out of the building. The guards will be distracted, but not for long, so don’t delay. You’ll also find enough credits in your pouch to leave Claracia and live a comfortable life until you figure something out. Go, and never look back.

  Eline cocked her eyebrow and looked toward the open cell again. She suspected it was some kind of trick—a game to entertain Malek or perhaps the guard who had mocked her earlier in the day.

  She regarded the box again with curiosity and figured she had nothing to lose. Eline fitted her under-armor and clothing and equipped her gear before cautiously making her way out of the cell, pulling the bars as gently as she could. She gritted her teeth hard when they shrieked regardless.

  She looked both ways and was more than a little surprised when no one tried to stop her. Giving the security camera one last glance, she moved toward the exit. The door at the end of the hall was open. Eline poked her head into the adjoining corridor, expecting to find the guard, and she did. He sat against the far wall, a deep gash across his throat. Blood had pooled around him.