Anger Management

by Lawrence M Schoen

  Coop stopped running and looked behind, taking in the scene. “Finally.” He turned and headed back to Tycho.

  «I thought you said you couldn’t kill a zombie.»

  “You can’t kill them. They’re already dead. She’s just… mostly dead.”

  «She looks dead, dead.»

  “She’ll be fine. We just need a car. Quickly.”

  «It'll take a miracle.»

  Coop picked his head up and scanned the area. He did not have much time. The cops would eventually figure out where he'd gone and they’d be after them again. On a normal day, there'd be some traffic, luggage carriers, shuttle inspectors, food service carts, even a security cruiser. But it looked like the panic inside the terminal had resulted in an evacuation of the immediate area.

  “Shit.”

  But then, weirdly distorted by the denser atmosphere, Coop heard the sound of an approaching electric engine. He turned to discover a vehicle driving right toward them. He raised his arms and waved frantically as he knelt over Tycho's body.

  The vehicle raced closer and Coop started to wonder if it was going to stop in time. He rose to his feet and stepped in front of the girl. “Stop!”

  The vehicle screeched to a halt on the concrete. The driver stared out at him and Coop stared back.

  “What the…”

  «…hell is that?» Dyrk finished.

  “Its… Tycho?”

  Coop was totally confused. But he didn’t have time. The driver had already begun to don an emergency environment suit of her own and a few seconds later opened her door.

  Coop fought off the questions running through his brain and picked up Tycho. He opened the back of the vehicle and settled her on the cushioned bench, then hauled himself into the front seat and closed the door behind him.

  The other Tycho flipped a switch, beginning the atmosphere exchange. Within seconds the green light came on signifying that what passed for Titanian air had been vented and replaced with the more breathable variety and it was safe to remove their suits. Coop rushed to take his off, but the woman beat him.

  “Coop, stop staring at me like an idiot. It’s me, Jessica.”

  “What?”

  «What?»

  “It’s a long story. Close your mouth. The Box attacked the hotel again and the virus kicked into overdrive. But it worked! It changed my physiology to match Tycho’s. Who, it would appear, you have taken for a walk out here without an environmental suit and killed. Are you insane?”

  Coop shook his head. It was a lot to absorb and he wasn’t feeling up to being lectured.

  “Dammit, a dozen Box couldn’t kill her. Her lungs will heal. Every bit of her will heal. I hope.”

  The doctor shook her head. “It’s not just a matter of healing,” she insisted. “Her brain needs oxygen, or did you forget about that little detail?”

  “Jess, she’s been brain dead for months.”

  The doctor looked back at the unconscious girl who had been her patient for so long.

  “I… She… Okay, fine.”

  «I don’t mean to intrude on this really bizarre reunion, but the cops are probably gonna show up here any time now.»

  “Dyrk’s right. We need to get out of here before the cops show up. We can figure this out once we’re somewhere safe.”

  Jess nodded and turned back to the steering console. She tapped away and a moment later they were on the move.

  Chapter 23

  By the time Alhiz’khlo’tam had trekked the length of the spaceport and arrived at the passenger terminal the flavor of the confusion there had changed. The civilians had all fled, except for the small number who required medical attention, and even most of these — the more serious cases — had already been carted off. An overworked team from the spaceport's coroner's office moved among the handful of dead, bodies in part or whole mangled by the unforgiving treads of the Box avatars, either before or after being shot, often as not by friendly fire.

  Doug trailed behind the xenon, carrying a somewhat depleted box of self-propelled vacuum cleaners and high temperature explosives. Strung out behind him were his own assistants, men and women also in Al's employ who were loading pushcarts and carrying off the chunks of the six Doos extensions their boss had left in his wake. In time they would catch up and harvest the bounty here at the passenger terminal, once the cops left.

  For now, the police were in disarray. Miraculously none had been killed, though several had been injured and two maimed. Some moved among the broken or melted avatars, poking at them as if to be sure they would not bestir themselves back to life and resume their attack. Others wandered in a daze, caught up in the aftermath of feelings of terror unlike anything they'd ever imagined. Some few were being debriefed by late arriving superiors who were desperate to understand the carnage around them or make sense of the repeated insistence that ultimately it had all been caused by a teenage hospital patient.

  Amidst this chaos, sitting patiently at a table liberated from one of the sideline shops, were two figures who didn't belong in such a scene. A man and a woman, they waited, as if for an arriving passenger, not some beloved family member coming to Titan for a joyous reunion, but more as if meeting a business associate who had much to answer for. Which, all things considered was a fair description.

  The man was average height and not merely slim but gaunt. He had a florid complexion and dull brown hair to match a pair of unremarkable brown eyes. He wore an impeccable, handmade suit, one of a dozen — or so the rumor went — that had each cost more than the price of the shuttle ticket to Milan where he'd waited while the tailor and his team of apprentices measured, cut, and sewed them. He worried the business end of an unlit cigar like a dog with a bone.

  The woman was tall, and where her companion looked unhealthily thin, she was slender and lithe. She was as pale as the dress of silk and polar bear fur that covered her from shoulder to ankle. Her eyes revealed a blue so milky they hinted she might be blind. Her hair fell like a satin waterfall of darkness down her back, ending at mid-thigh. Her only nod to coloration were her lips, painted with a red like flame.

  Al walked right to their table. In its way, it was a remarkable meeting. The three of them ordinarily never met together in the flesh. He gave a curt nod, settled into a chair facing them so he wouldn't loom, and acknowledged them by name.

  “Diamond Queen. Big Tony.”

  “Alhiz’khlo’tam,” said the woman known as the Diamond Queen, her voice little more than a breath. Big Tony said nothing, merely returned the nod and chomped on his cigar.

  “What brings you out, together, on this fine day?”

  “Don't get cute,” snapped Big Tony. “You're in violation of our agreement.”

  “How so?”

  “This. All a this.” The crime boss gestured around them, pointing with his cigar. “It's bad for business.”

  “I agree, but I fail to see how I'm responsible for it.”

  “We acknowledge that the Box represent an implacable and invincible species,” said the woman, “one that needs must be endured at times. Still, under the terms of our agreement, you are responsible for all xenons on this station. Accountability for current events falls to you.”

  “Technically speaking, the Box here are not xenons. They are the remote avatars of a machine intelligence located lightyears away.”

  Big Tony bristled. “Are you back to being cute?”

  “Not at all,” said Al, his own voice calm, soothing without a hint of subservience. “I merely point out the realities of the situation. It is a difficult thing to impose order on a being who is not actually present. One cannot apply influence upon, let alone control, such an individual.”

  “And yet,” breathed the Diamond Queen, “as has been noted, their actions do not serve our respective business interests. What are you doing to remedy this circumstance?”

  “I've destroyed them.”

  Another gesture with a cigar took in the shattered and mangled Box extensions. “No, that
's what some mutant kid did, 'least as far as we've heard so far.”

  “Only these,” said Al, and his eyes seemed to gleam as his lips curved up into a slight smile. “On my way here, I personally ended six others.”

  “Surely you overstate your case,” said the Diamond Queen. “We are aware of your history, how and why you came to be here on Titan. No one — with maybe the exception of whatever mutant child the police allowed to escape — can take out Doos, let alone six of it. You know that to be impossible, better than any of us.”

  Big Tony grunted in agreement.

  Al's smile broadened. “It is fair to say that I have had a change of perspective. There are no longer any extensions of Doos on Titan. And should any more arrive, you have my word I will personally handle them, swiftly and with great prejudice.”

  “That is… satisfactory,” said the Diamond Queen. She stood and walked away, acquiring a security escort that appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

  “And you, Big Tony, are you satisfied as well?”

  The crime boss stood. He removed his cigar and shrugged. “I'm good, but see, there's one more piece.”

  “A piece?”

  “Your Doos, one of it had a… let's call it a deadman transmitter. It sent a signal to every bounty hunter on Titan. There's a sizable retrieval fee on offer for anyone who recovers that doctor the previous Boxes had out at their ranch, dead or alive. My sources tell me you've been putting her up in your fancy hotel, so I'm assuming you're connected, especially given your past history with Doos. Also, there's a still bigger bounty for the safe return of some alien critter of the Box what got stolen.”

  Al's grin turned to a frown. “Per the terms of our agreement, supervision of retrievers is under your domain. Can you call them off?”

  “I already did so, soon as that signal went out. Seemed prudent, until I checked in with you, the bounty being provided by a xenon and all.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “There's just one problem. Several of them, the bounty hunters, have not fired back an acknowledgment. Might be legit comm problems, might be they're just ignoring the call so they can pursue the reward now and whine plausible deniability later.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?”

  Big Tony put his cigar back between his teeth. “Meaning, there're at least a couple teams still out there looking to make their score by taking out that doctor of yours.”

  Chapter 24

  Jessica took several quick turns and managed to get them away from the terminal and into what amounted to traffic on Titan. She needed to think.

  Potato needed attention. Or something. It wouldn’t sit still, instead it bounded around the cabin. First it stood in Coop’s lap and licked his face. Then it ran over to Jessica and did the same until she tossed it back to Coop so she could concentrate and drive.

  Finally, Potato hopped to the back of the vehicle and went to Tycho. It lay down next to her head and began to gently nuzzle and lick the young woman’s face.

  “What’s with Potato?” Coop asked.

  “I have no idea. Well, no, I do have an idea, but I don’t have enough information. But I know where we can get it. Hold on.”

  Jessica's fingers danced on the control console and keyed in Al's comm code. A moment later the alien’s face appeared on the windshield in front of her.

  “Dr. Acorns. Cooper. You’ve certainly been busy this morning. The passenger terminal is a mess and the police are more than a little distraught. My… business associates have taken me to task for these events, and I am attempting to tie up some loose ends even as we speak. More on that in a moment. How may I help you?”

  Coop looked at her. “He knows about your transformation?”

  She shrugged and focused on the call. “Al, I have some questions.”

  “As do I,” the alien sighed.

  “Was that all of the Box extensions? Did Mr. Cooper get them all, or are there still more running around looking for us?”

  On the screen, Al nodded. “Yes. The avatars at the terminal were the last remaining Doos extensions on Titan.”

  Coop chewed his lower lip. “Are you sure? I mean, I wasn't keeping too close a count, but I don't think there were enough back there to cover all of them.”

  “You are quite astute, Cooper. I was inspired by your actions today and eliminated a few myself. I assure you, all twenty of Doos's avatars have been accounted for.”

  “That’s a relief,” said Jessica. “Okay, next question. Have your people taken all of the medical equipment out of Scatola's habitat at the Box ranch yet?”

  “No, it made more sense to sort and inventory it all in place. It wasn't, shall we say, a priority. I had them set up a security perimeter to keep it secure until after you were on your way. My people and I have been kept quite busy trying to arrange for your needs and covering your human butts from everyone who wants to hurt you. It’s been a full-time job. Besides, I am still working to line up the right buyers. And that takes time, which has been in short supply since I met you. Why?”

  “Because I need more data and I need some of those machines to get it.”

  Al nodded. “Now for my questions. When and why did your patient wake up? And why did she decide to go to the terminal and take on a small army of Box judges? Most important, how in the universe did she defeat them?”

  Jessica looked uncomfortable. “Al, those are just a few of the questions I need that equipment to answer.”

  The alien sighed. “Very well. You are welcome to it. But, Dr. Acorns, I expect you to share those answers with me. Are we agreed?”

  “We are.” She killed the connection before the xenon could change his mind or make other demands. Jessica turned her face toward Coop. “Well, that’s as close to good news as we could get for the moment.”

  Cooper looked back at her. “That’s good, because Dyrk says we’re being followed.”

  Jessica gasped. “What do you mean we’re being followed?”

  Coop rolled his eyes. “Uh… I thought it was self-explanatory. Now listen, honey—”

  “Don’t call me that. How many times do I have to say it?”

  He sighed. “If you can hold off on lecturing me about my rampant chauvinism, I’d like you to concentrate on the people following us.”

  She gripped the wheel more tightly. “Sorry. Where are they?”

  “Dyrk said they’re three vehicles back. Make a turn and see if they stay with us.”

  Jessica took a left around a large warehouse and sure enough, a small transport with two occupants made the turn with them.

  “Okay, what do I do?” she asked.

  “You stay calm and keep driving.”

  “Should I head for the ranch?”

  “No. Not until we shake them.”

  “How are we going to do that?”

  “Good question.”

  When Jessica looked back, she saw that the transport had pulled closer. “He’s coming up on us.”

  The other vehicle increased its speed still more and pulled alongside them. Two occupants – one human and one short pinkish alien — waved at them to follow their vehicle.

  Coop shook his head and waved them off.

  The men brandished weapons and waved back. The human had a shit-eating grin on his face.

  Jessica felt her heart go cold. Sweat beaded on her back and her heart-rate picked up as her knuckles grew very, very white on the controls.

  “Jess, time to shake these guys.”

  Jessica stared straight ahead. She tried to get her breathing under control.

  Coop wouldn’t shut up. “Jess? I said its time to shake these guys. Are you okay?”

  The doctor shook her head. “No. I am not okay. But I’m trying to be. Just be quiet for a second. I need to concentrate.”

  She slowed her breathing. She took in deep breaths and flexed her fingers. It felt better.

  Then she slammed the accelerator forward and their own transport shot away from the other vehicle.
/>   “Whoa! Go Jess.” Coop laughed.

  “Well, its logic. They can’t shoot at us if they can’t open their doors. And since they didn’t have environment suits on, we’re safe from that threat. At least for the moment.”

  “Oh, yeah. That does make sense.”

  “Of course, it does. I’m a scientist, Mr. Cooper.”

  “Right. Now, science us out of this mess and ditch these guys so we can get to the ranch.”

  Jessica opened her mouth to reply, but shut it when the other vehicle sped up and rammed them from behind.

  “Oh no,” she mouthed before she made a quick left turn and created some distance.

  “Don’t ‘oh no’ me. Lose them. Ram them back. Do something!”

  “Right. Right…”

  Jessica put the car through another series of turns. She weaved around larger cargo transports that commonly flowed between the area's warehouses and used them to block their pursuers. Coop turned around in his seat. “They’re coming up fast on the left.”

  She nodded and cut right, skating across the path of another vehicle — barely avoiding being T-boned — then slowed to match its pace, lost from the sight of her pursuers.

  Their would-be assailants got caught with the vehicle between. They waved their weapons at the unsuspecting driver and mouthed obscenities through the glass. It didn’t matter. She had the distraction she'd wanted and used it, making a quick right turn, losing the thugs as she sped off perpendicular to them.

  “Nice move, Jess!”

  “I know.”

  She made another right and accelerated up the road. Seconds ticked by as Jessica made a wide circuit of the warehouse sector.

  After a few minutes Coop faced forward again. “All clear. We lost them.”

  She sighed in relief and looked at the navigation panel. She needed to make the next left. They had to sweep around the outskirts of the terminal and get on the road to the former Box habitat.