Flux Runners

by William Joseph Roberts

  “Super-secret squirrel handshake,” Doug said, then squeezed the remainder of the sandwich tight with both hands to better fit it into his mouth. Greasy drippings mingled with egg yolk and the spicy house sauce escaped to the plate below.

  Wes grabbed a napkin and dabbed at a splatter of burger juices from the table. “Right, that’s it. So without that passcode, you can forget about ever getting into this place or getting to glimpse, let alone stroke the dong of destiny,” he said, pointing toward the wooden phallus by the main entrance.

  “You know, I worry about you sometimes.”

  “Hee-Hee, yup.” Wes grinned, then took a sip from his beer.

  “So if Lizz manages to get that passcode, we’re in, no strings attached?” Doug wiped grease from his fingers on a napkin.

  “Exactly! Though we’ll have to be quick about it. Once the informant is found it won’t take long for the code to be locked out of the system.”

  “Excellent.” Doug leaned back in his chair. He let out a long, groaning stretch that ended in a loud belch. “Ugghhh… God, that was good,” he said as he retrieved a thin silver case from his jacket pocket. “Four months in The Belt eating rations really makes you appreciate those little things from home,” he said with a half hiccup-burp. “Excuse me.” He pulled one of the hand-rolled cigarettes from the case, checked it, then took a long satisfactory draw as he lit it. “I’ll inform the customer as soon as the code is in hand so they can transfer the contracted funds. Are you sure that this can’t be traced back to us?”

  “That depends. I have everything covered on my end. All trace of my presence will be wiped clean once we have the files. As long as Lizz doesn’t give herself away we should be golden.”

  “Perfect,” Doug said. He took another long drag from his cigarette. “The payout on this gig will set us up for a few months and give us a chance to do a few upgrades to Betty.”

  “We need a new ship, Cap! For fuck’s sake, I feel like I need a tetanus shot every time I step foot on that old rust bucket.”

  “Naw,” Doug said dismissively. “Betty is broken in and reliable. She may not be the prettiest ship in the sky, but she does the job and doesn’t give us too many problems. You can’t argue that she wasn’t built well, especially when she’s as old as she is. And besides, she has style. She’s sexy. All of those newer flying boxes just look like the same old shell without a soul. Betty has a soul and a personality to boot.”

  “Uh-huh. And parts are getting harder and harder to find for her” Wes tapped at his forearm and projected a holographic image of a circuit board on the table.

  “Alright, that’s one of the ship's main processors, isn’t it? What of it?”

  “You are correct,” Wes said. “That is one of the main processor boards. One of twelve processor boards, mind you, that the ship originally came with. They were designed to run the primary, secondary, and tertiary systems with a serious focus on redundancy. We are down to one primary board and one backup. All of the others are fried, and I’ve had to reroute all of the ship’s functions through the two remaining boards.”

  Doug loudly sighed. He stared off into nothing for a moment. “Ok, I gotcha. So we need a spare board just in case one goes down. How much will it cost us?”

  Wes chuckled. “Do you really want to know?”

  Doug closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Ok, hit me with it.”

  “Six million credits if we’re lucky. And that’s because this is the only processor that I’ve found that isn’t in a museum.”

  “Dammit. Couldn’t you use your wizardry and build one out of newer hardware?”

  “Oh yeah, I absolutely could. But are you going to give me about six months to build, install, and retrofit all of the ship's systems so it can all still communicate? We need some serious downtime, Cap.”

  Doug leaned back and forcefully rubbed at his eyes and temples. “Shouldn’t you be able to plug and play everything? That was one of the major changes to ship designs when Betty was built. Modular systems that were all plug and play.”

  “True, but that’s all hardware.” The Geek chortled. “See, the programing language of this original hardware compared to the modern tech would be like trying to explain the true function of the Aethernet and how it all works to a dark ages nun without her claiming that I’m a heretical witch and burning me at the stake, or dunking me until I drown to prove whether I float or not,” he squeaked out on the last remnants of a breath.

  “Breath, Geek,” Doug said. He reached across the table and slapped Wes on the shoulder. “It’s okay, man. No need to get so excited about it.”

  “I’m not getting excited,” he said. “I’m just explaining the truth of the matter.”

  “Well, hello. What do we have here?”

  “What,” the Geek asked in a confused tone.

  “We can talk about upgrades later. How sure are you that this plan is solid,” Doug asked. His gaze locked on something behind Wes.

  “Why?” Wes’s voice cracked in a panicked squeak.

  “Oh, I don’t know. It just seems a bit odd that there are three guys in expensive suits at the far end of the bar staring over this way.”

  “Oh shit,” Wes excitedly whispered. He stretched, stealing a quick glance back at the trio as he did so. “That’s not good, Cap. Not good at all. Should we get out of here or what?”

  “Just chill. There’s no reason to get yourself all worked up, just yet. They could just be a couple of businessmen having some dinner and a drink. It is Atlanta after all.”

  “Yeahhhhhh, good point,” Wes said, stabbing a finger in Doug’s direction. “You’re probably right. I’m just getting myself worked up over nothing.”

  “Exactly.” Doug retrieved another cigarette from his case and lit it with a deep draw and a long, exhaled sigh. He chugged the remainder of an inky dark stout and slammed the glass on the table. “And ya know what, Geek? I can also be wrong at times too,” he said as he quickly stood and donned his black leather trench coat with a flourish.

  “Oh shit. What? Are they coming this way?”

  “Um-hum,” Doug hummed around the cigarette hanging from his mouth. He closed his eyes as smoke from the cigarette rolled up his face and straightened the collar of his coat. Reaching into the left pocket he loosely gripped the heirloom Judge magnum revolver that rested in a hidden holster.

  “Are we going or what, Cap,” Wes forcefully whispered as he put on his jacket.

  Doug glared at his science officer, his head tilted slightly to avoid more smoke rolling into his eyes. Otherwise motionless, he glanced about the room, then back to the men in suits. These guys look like pros, he thought. There was only one way out of the diner, and it was past these guys. He took another long draw of his cigarette. If I pull my gun, those guys will open fire and unload in this direction. Won’t work. Wes is between me and them. Not an option

  “Stay, Geek.”

  “What? Why?” Wes impatiently waited for a reply.

  Doug took a deep breath, then let his hand casually drop from his coat.

  “Just wait,” he said with a grin. “It’s too late because they are almost here.” He took the last drag from the cigarette and dropped the butt into his beer glass.

  “Captain Douglas Rackham?” A short stocky man in an expensive-looking black suit. He stood a few paces behind Wes with his hands behind his. His two larger and heavily muscled companions looked uncomfortable in their dark suits and stood a few paces behind the short stocky man.

  “That depends on who’s asking,” Doug replied. “And I’ll tell you what. I’m in no mood for innuendo and beating around the bush at the moment, so I’ll be upfront. Four long and lonely months in The Belt can do that to a man.” He reached across the table and grabbed the beer glass from in front of Wes and finished off the warm amber liquid in one glug.

  “Hey, that was my beer,” Wes fussed.

  “Too late now,” Doug said. “Besides you let it get warm. Bad Geek.” Doug smiled w
ide and placed the glass back onto the table.

  “What the fuck man, seriously?”

  “Sorry. You snooze, you lose.” Doug laughed as he lit another smoke.

  “Ass,” Wes replied.

  “Sometimes,” Doug returned.

  “Eh hem.” the short man in the nice suit coughed.

  Doug returned his attention to the trio of men in suits with an annoyed glare. “I’m sorry, what was it that you wanted again?”

  “I think he wanted to get your name or number or something,” Wes said. “You do look lovely and dapper in that coat. Like Brandon Lee in The Crow kinda cool.”

  Doug’s head drunkenly jerked in the direction of the suited men. “Ohhhhh. I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean to totally ignore you.” He grossly exaggerated a wide, teeth bared grin. “You do look very handsome in that shiny black suit and all but you just aren’t pretty enough to take home to Mother. I’m sorry. Nothing personal. I’m sure that one day, you’ll make someone a great housewife. Just be patient and never give up on your dreams. You’ll find your place one day.”

  The two muscled men coughed, fighting back the urge to laugh at the last comment.

  The dapper dressed man let his arms drop forward and relax. He straightened his suit, then produced an envelope from one of the jacket pockets.

  “I will only ask nicely once more, sir,” he said as he fumbled with the envelope. He unfolded the letter contained within, cleared his throat and began to read. “Captain Douglas Rackham, I am hereby authorized by order of the director, W.J. Lepetomane, of the Independent Alliance to detain and arrest you and your crew, as well as impound your ship by any means which shall be for an unspecified amount of time as deemed necessary. Immediate capital punishment has been authorized for any individual that resists arrest.”

  “Well that was a mouthful, now wasn’t it?” Doug smiled as he slowly exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.

  “I think he’s serious, Cap,” Wes said. He looked up at Doug.

  “Now, Captain,” the fine dressed man said in a sarcastic tone. “Are you Captain Douglas Rackham?” The suited man placed his hand on the Geek’s shoulder, “And are you, Wesley, The Geek, Skaggs?”

  “I am,” the Captain said with a confident scowl.

  “I am, too,” Wes sighed as he buried his face in his hands. “Fuck my life.”

  The short man took a step back from the table and motioned toward the door. “If you would please follow my associates, we will be on our way, gentlemen.” He nodded with a shit-eating grin across his face.

  Doug’s neck cracked with a loud pop as he leaned his head at an odd angle. “Ok, let’s do this.” He smacked his hands on the table. The three suited men flinched, each of them with a hand in their jackets.

  “Let’s go, Geek, I have things to see and people to do.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Wes said as he reluctantly stood and followed the captain out the door.

  cHAPTER 2

  Independent Alliance/American Confederation Consulate Facility

  North Atlanta, Georgia, USA

  May 12, 2176 / 2015 hrs local time

  “A

  ndy! Would you please just sit your ass down, relax, and get the hell out of my way. There’s no way out of this room and they are watching our every move through this two-way mirror.” Big Willy anxiously thumbed at the mirrored wall to his left as he continued to pace the length of the room. The mountain of a man barely fit into the sleeveless, grease stained green coveralls that he wore.

  “But I’m on the other side of the room,” Andy said. “And besides, I might have an idea if I can just reach that vent up there.” He climbed onto the large metal conference table in the center of the sterile white room. He dug around in the multitude of empty pockets of his utility vest in search of something. “I’ll be damned if they didn’t even leave me so much as a pair of tweezers.”

  “Better listen to Big Willy, man. You know he doesn’t like to be cooped up,” Trae added. The large man leaned the cold metal chair back against the wall, crossed his muscular, tree trunk sized arms and pulled his gray beanie cap over his eyes.

  “Just one second,” Andy said. “Let me look at…”

  “Dude! What the hell is wrong with you?” Tiffany nervously fidgeted with the tips of her nails. She blew out from the corner of her mouth at a loose wisp of hair, then chewed and blew a decent sized bubble with her gum that popped and covered the tip of her button nose. “Do you want them to come in here and hogtie every freaking one of us? Just sayin’, ya know. Cause that’s what they do, isn’t it?”

  Big Willy closed his eyes and drew in slow, deep breaths. His fists clenched with the pace of each breath, knuckles white with each contraction.

  “Calm down big guy,” Krista said. “Contain the bear, become the butterfly.”

  “Andy!” Melanie shouted from beneath her reproduction superman baseball cap, then lifted it, glaring in Andy’s direction. “Get your ass off of that table and sit down right now!” She quickly stood, straightening the blouse of her nurse’s scrubs, her self-imposed cafeteria uniform and began looking around for something to throw at Andy.

  “Since Cap ain’t here, that puts Willy in charge,” Fergus said matter of factly. He scratched at the two-day’s worth of stubble along his neck, then straightened his thick brown 70’s style mustache. “Violation of a direct order is a punishable offense per the ship’s charter.” He gently stroked the mousey brown hair of the ship's pilot, Rachel, who lay napping in his lap. He adjusted her brown leather flight jacket that covered her still form. “Now, sit your ass down before you wake Rachel. You know she gets bat shit crazy if she doesn’t get her rest. Do you really want to send her spiraling off down a manic rabbit hole?”

  “Fine.” Andy jumped down from the table and stumbled against the wall. “Don’t come asking me for help when they come to execute all of us.”

  “EVERYONE JUST SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!” Big Willy slammed both of his ham sized fists down on the metal table, leaving two distinct indents on its surface.

  “Tansy cakes with peppermint cream,” Rachel said. She snorted and jerked awake from her light doze.

  A crying scream erupted from the corner of the room. “It’ll be alright, sweetie,” Maggie, one of the witches three said soothingly as she hurried past Big Willy. Her multicolored skirt flowed in a flurry of motion and jingles as she rushed to Amanda’s side at the rear of the room. She pulled the young crewman close, cradling her to her bosom.

  Kara, quickly finished re-tying her curly dark locks up in a head scarf, then sandwiched Amanda between herself and Maggie. “It’s okay baby. Willy is just a big mean bully,” she said in a coddling baby tone. She adjusted her button downed shirt to cover her otherwise normally displayed cleavage.

  “Oh, my Jesus fucking Christ, people,” Krista huffed. She stood and looked around at the others. “We are all good, no one is hurt, and nearly everyone is here. Once Doug finds out that we’ve been arrested, he’ll come to bail us out. It isn’t like this is the first time any of us have been thrown in a lock-up.”

  A loud humming clack emanated from the room’s heavy-duty steel door. It swung open, thudding against the concrete wall and bounced back as Doug stumbled headlong into the room.

  “Cap!” The group stood simultaneously.

  “You’d better watch yourself; I like it rough,” Doug said. He grinned and winked at the guard who shoved him further into the room.

  “Hey now!” Wes stumbled through the doorway just as a guard began pulling the door closed.

  “You could have at least left me my smokes! Assholes!” Doug kicked at the door as it latched closed.

  “Oh my God! Wesley!” Kara squeaked. She dove into Wes’s arms, latching onto his husky frame. “My dear sweet teddy bear, they didn’t hurt you, did they?”

  Doug scanned the room, mentally counting heads. “Missing Lizz.” He flashed a look of concern at the Geek.

  “Don’t look at me,” Wes said d
efensively. “It wasn’t my fault. She knew what she was getting into when we set up this plan.”

  Doug rubbed his chin slowly in thought. “Just gotta hope for the best at this point I suppose...” He suddenly sighed, eyes fixed on the two large dents in the table. “Um. Do I even need to guess what happened to the table?”

  “That’s in the past,” Krista said with a wave of her hand as she walked up to Doug. “All done and over with. Nothing to worry about now.”

  “Have they said anything to any of you, yet?” Doug looked to Willy.

  “Nothing ye…,” Willy started but was abruptly cut off.

  “None of us have been charged with anything,” Krista said. “We were hauled in one by one and tossed into this room.” Her eyes narrowed as she looked from Doug to Wes and back again.

  “I’m as clueless as you,” Doug said. “The guy in the suit that brought us in just said that the ship was impounded, and we were all under arrest.”

  “Hell, that’s a lot better than what happened to me,” Trae said. “The last thing I remember, I was on my last set of squats and boom, I went black. Next thing I know, I wake up here on the floor with a killer headache and Amanda crying in the corner.”