Space Bound: A Dragon Soul Press Anthology

by J. E. Feldman

  “Why don’t you pack a bag.”

  “What.”

  “I’m going to swing by in a few minutes to pick you up.”

  There was a loud boom outside that shook the windows of the house.

  “What did you do?”

  “Oh, I had the robots build me a ship. It’s very nice and very comfortable. Also, much faster than anything we have. I’ve called it the Defiant after the one in the show.”

  “Mark?”

  “Yes, dear?”

  “Did you take over the universe?”

  “Oh. Maybe?”

  Stephen Herczeg

  Stephen Herczeg is an IT Geek, writer, actor, film maker and Taekwondo Black Belt from Canberra, Australia, who has been writing for well over twenty years, with sixteen completed feature length screenplays, and numerous short and micro-fiction stories. Stephen’s scripts, TITAN, Dark are the Woods, Control and Death Spores have found success in international screenwriting competitions with a win, two runner-up and two top ten finishes.

  He has had over a hundred short stories and micro-fiction drabbles published. Later this year, his collection of stories – The Curious Cases of Sherlock Holmes will be published through MX Publishing.

  He lives by the creed ‘Just Finish It,’ and his Mum is his biggest fan.

  Learn more at Facebook.com/StephenHerczegAuthor

  The Trivium Corporation Job

  Stephen Herczeg

  The blurred background of a thousand stars streaming by settled into a standard pattern of white dots against the impenetrable dark as Maygist’s ship dropped out of light speed. The large red mass that was the long-forgotten planet of Tuchanka sat off the port bow; the planet’s rocky terrain lit by the light of its dying white dwarf sun.

  Tapping several icons, Maygist studied the ship’s holo-display as it switched from the visible to an enhanced spectrum showing the most efficient course to navigate to his destination: a lonely asteroid orbiting Tuchanka. Setting the course into the nav-computer, Maygist settled back and readied himself for the job at hand.

  Four days previously, a communique had pinged on his wrist receiver with details of a new job. Only those who operated through the dark neural net had direct access to Maygist’s receiver. The originator of the message was his regular contact, giving Maygist a level of confidence that the job was real and achievable. Tapping his receiver, a data dump dropped directly into his cerebral cortex, explaining the intricate details of the job, and giving some background about what the client was after. What it hadn’t contained was the location of the asteroid that Maygist was heading towards at that moment.

  The client wanted to remain incognito, with all communication via Maygist’s contact, a fairly standard arrangement, but one which left all those in his game a little nervous. But money was money, and a half million credit down payment took the edge of Maygist’s concerns. The other million and a half would find their way to his account once the job was finished. A good return for only a week’s worth of work.

  Though there were expenses to pay, and a hundred grand disappeared into the coffers of an ancient and mouldering man that Maygist found in a sleazy dive in the port-side city of Vargessa on the outer rim planet Congentia. His investigations into the neural net had dried up, but one name come to his attention, and that name led him to Vargessa. Sergeant Golfrum Kane, ex-Federation Armed Forces, the major military force used across the outer rim before the Empire had taken over. Golfrum’s last recorded duty was as security control officer for the platoon charged with protecting a shipment of unrefined bavarium and antrium from the ore planet Baddoom across the outer rim wastes to the refining plants on Tantarus.

  Decades before, when war broke out across the outer rim as the Empire’s forces unleashed hell across the galaxy, all Federation units had been withdrawn and sent into combat. Maygist’s client stated that the Tuchanka facility had been abandoned in the middle of an operation, resulting in a massive shipment of bavarium and antrium going missing. Supposedly, it still sat in the way-station originally used as a jumping point between Baddoom and Tantarus. All records had been lost, even the location of the Tuchanka facility itself.

  At first, Maygist had reveled in the fact his client was chasing dreams, but as his research went deeper, he unveiled even more information that crystallized his client’s hopes and wants. The Tuchanka facility had been part of a company that specialized in electronics component manufacture, but had delved into military, medical and industrial applications of its inventions and discoveries. The old Federation had funded much of the research, using its discoveries for its own ends, some considered reprehensible and immoral by modern standards.

  That piece of information had Maygist chuckling. The fact that there was anybody in existence that could see anything from the past as immoral when compared to the modern day was humorous in the extreme.

  Upon facing Golfrum, Maygist had plied the old man with questions that were answered with only a blank watery stare. Producing a few hundred credits had brought a change to the man’s face that resulted in small nuggets, but it was when Maygist asked about the location of the bavarium storage facility that Golfrum’s demeanor had changed. His military background had taken over, his eyes peering around through the gloom and smoke in the bar ensuring they weren’t being watched. He then sprang from his seat, physically dragging Maygist from the room and down a back alley, where he slammed the data hacker against the wall and thrust a laz-knife under his chin.

  Any normal person would have soiled themselves, but the familiar sound of his two protection drones as they lowered their twin gun barrels towards the old man’s head, brought a smile to Maygist’s face.

  “I take it you know about the facility then?” Maygist asked.

  Golfrum’s eyes grew wide as he glanced around into the gleaming plasma barrels pointed at his forehead. The laz-knife disappeared, and negotiations began. For his information and continued silence, Maygist agreed to transfer a hundred thousand credits into Golfrum’s possession. A man of his word, the old sergeant hadn’t disappointed. He immediately sent Maygist the location and directions to Tuchanka and the asteroid based administration facility.

  The same facility that grew across the view screen of Maygist’s ship. An imposing structure with tall gleaming spires that had to be the sentry towers, which normally would have been alive with searchlights and laser turrets, but were now silent and cold.

  Touching down on the roof of a flat, solid-looking building, Maygist ran scans of the facility and the surrounding landscape. According to his computer, he was the only organic matter on the entire asteroid. In fact, he and his ship were the only non-natural objects moving across the entire sector. The asteroid was truly dead and forgotten.

  Stepping onto the wide flat roof, Maygist glanced around. Schematics of the entire base appeared within his field of vision, projected directly onto his retinal implants by his central computer chip. According to the ancient plans, that Golfrum had charged an arm and a leg for, the main computer center was two floors directly below Maygist.

  Reaching into the carryall slung around his waist, Maygist brought out a small silver cylinder. A flick of a button produced a searing ray of blue light that lanced across the plascrete surface. When he finished drawing, a glowing red circle formed and collapsed, taking a section of roof with it and allowing Maygist easy access to the dark interior.

  Dropping down lightly into the gloom, Maygist pulled a glow-globe from his carryall, and attached it to the nearest wall. The soft glow of the light spread out through the dark and dusty corridor. Motes of dust, floating through the stale air, shone brightly as the first light touched them in years.

  Moving several meters from below his original hole, Maygist repeated the process, cutting an entrance into the darkened room of the computer center. The glow of a second globe showed lines of squat dust covered cubes that had sat silent for years.

  Zooming in on the building schematics, Maygist located the central
terminal and headed towards it. The first task was to restore power.

  Touching the top of the small arc-reactor retrieved from his carryall, Maygist watched as the gossamer threads of electricity swept out from the tiny black box and disappeared into the surrounding machinery. A deep-seated humming spread around the room as the ancient machinery sucked at the power on offer and reanimated after their extensive slumber.

  Blinking, Maygist’s ocular view switched from schematics to a computer display with a screen requesting login details. A holographic keyboard appeared below his fingers, and Maygist tapped in the sequence he’d retrieved from Golfrum’s information.

  “Yes,” he said to the empty room, as a series of icons appeared in his eyesight. Tapping on one titled Storage Facilities, he was presented with a list of all the bavarium and antrium storage locations. A quick scan revealed them to be well-known and already targeted for scavenging by Empirical forces. A final listing said Waystations. Opening the list, Maygist found all the locations that had been lost when the war broke out. He wasn’t sure which one his client was after, but downloaded all of their details just in case. A quick examination of which showed the history of all transport operations. Several occurred on the fateful day that the Tuchanka facility was abandoned. One of those would prove to be his final payday; the others he would hold onto and investigate in his own leisure. A small icon highlighted to indicate that the download of all data on the system had completed.

  Maygist was unsure whether any of the data would be of use, but hoped there may be more nuggets that could be sold off or used for his own benefit. Besides, the system was so ancient that the amount of data it contained was infinitesimal compared to the amount of storage available just within Maygist’s cerebral cortex.

  With the contents of the facilities files whizzing past his eyes as he climbed out of the computer center, Maygist failed to notice the figure standing several meters away. Striding towards his own drop craft, Maygist pulled up short when the deep voice rang out behind him.

  “Halt.”

  Turning, Maygist’s eyes fell on the tall, dark figure. His implants adjusted to the dim light, showing the shape’s features. It was human, simply a man like himself, in a close-fitting garment with a helmet covering his face.

  “Rene Maygist,” the figure spoke, a hologram appearing in the air before it, “I have an Imperial order for your arrest, on ten counts of larceny, embezzlement, and murder.”

  I’ve been busy.

  “Come quietly and I will not have to execute the termination clause.”

  Fucking dogs. Maygist smiled and held up his hands.

  Dogs was the derogatory name given to the Empire’s army of bounty hunters that worked across the outer rim worlds. They were mostly sourced from reformed criminals, or the lowest low-lifes in that section of the galaxy. Their headquarters, known colloquially as the Doghouse, orbited Altair IV, across the other side of the outer rim.

  Whoever this was, they were committed. His implants zoomed in on the Dog’s face, Maygist chuckled to himself.

  “Taylor, long time no see. When did you stop being human and join up with the Dogs?”

  “We all have our reasons, Maygist,” came the reply. Taylor dropped his hand and grabbed for the compound blaster in its holster. Leveling it at Maygist, he continued, “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be, okay? I’d rather not kill an old acquaintance, but it will save on paperwork back at the house.”

  “I’m sure it will.” Maygist issued a silent command to his drones.

  As Taylor stood, his gun leveled at Maygist’s head, a breeze blew across his shoulders. Turning, his gaze fell onto the twin gun barrels pointing out of the drone that hovered level with his eyes. Taylor’s heart sank. “Maygist, you bastard.” White fire arced from the drone, spearing into Taylor’s helmet, and leaving a smoking tunnel through the middle of the bounty hunter’s head.

  “Interesting last words, Taylor,” Maygist said as the Dog’s body slumped, to lie silent and alone forever more on the lost asteroid.

  A pall of smoke hung like dirty washing in the air throughout the bar. Maygist slammed the contents of his shot glass down into his gullet to join the other five shots of whiskey that were already warming his insides. Glancing around the room, he rescanned the faces of each and every patron. His implants picking up their facial features and immediately running checks against the central database records he kept downloaded and up to date every time he made planet fall.

  A stream of information ran past his internal mind’s eye. Nothing new from the last few minutes. Every being here had a similar history to his own. Criminals, outlaws, down and outs hiding from persecution. No Dogs. No cops. No detectives. Just the way Maygist like it, surrounded by his people, all of whom held no interest in talking to him.

  Nodding to the robot bartender, Maygist lifted his glass and watched as it was refilled quickly. A small figure popped up in the bottom corner of one eye screen. The cost of the drink had already been deducted from his account before his glass had finished filling.

  Closing his eyes to gain a better view of his retinal screen, Maygist scrolled the local and system wide news. His interest lay in any movement of Dogs in the area, and any mention of his name. Nothing. Everything on public record was quiet. The Socmed was the same. Admittedly, he had no close social contacts, he simply subscribed to various channels as a way of connecting to a wider source of news.

  Blinking the light back into his sight, he sipped the whiskey to taste the flavor, before throwing his head back and downing the remains. Standing up, his head took on a vacant, light feel for a moment, before settling.

  Damn. One or two too many, I think. Need sleep.

  Stepping from the bar, Maygist dropped onto the wide, dusty street, carefully avoiding the deep, dried ruts left by passing transports during recent rains. As he shuffled back towards the hovel of a hotel he’d booked into, his twin drones stopped their circling and fell into step behind and well above him.

  “Maygist.”

  The woman’s voice stopped him in his tracks, causing him to stumble slightly on a particularly deep rut.

  “Maygist,” she repeated.

  Turning to face the owner of the voice, Maygist’s drones slowly moved into positions on each side of the figure, their guns silently extending from within their carapaces.

  “You have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am. I don’t know who you are,” lied Maygist, as his implants zoomed on the woman’s face and retrieved detailed information and histories, displaying all on his retinal screens.

  “By now, you know who I am, but I’ll go along with your charade,” she said, “I’m Daria Sandlocke.” Stepping forward, Daria held her hands to the side. Her guns remained fixed in their holsters. “Guns will stay where they are. I just need to talk.”

  Maygist stood still, his eyes fixed on the woman as she approached. “About what? I don’t know you; I just know about you. Daria Sandlocke, wanted in six systems for burglary, larceny, assault, and murder.” Maygist smiled. “Impressive list. We could even be friends, but calling me out in the middle of a shitty street on a shitty dustbowl planet ain’t my kind of introduction. That’s the sort of thing that leads to a confrontation.” As he spoke, his drones dropped from the sky and made themselves known to Daria.

  She glanced around at each in turn, then back to Maygist. “Hey, no violence here, okay? My boss just wants to talk.”

  “You don’t have a boss. Well, nothing in my records anyway.”

  “He’s kind of shy. Likes to keep a low profile. Something that’s not easy for him.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Not a name I’d like to be shouting out on a public street.” As she spoke, windows and doors slammed shut around them. Blinds were drawn in several of the nearby shops. “I work for a powerful man. A man who needs your peculiar abilities and who can reward you quite handsomely for your help.”

  “Again, who? I don’t like working for anybody I
ain’t met.”

  “Oh, he wants to meet you. You need to come with me though.”

  “Where?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Answer’s no then.”

  “He was afraid you’d say that.” Daria raised her hands and opened her left, revealing a small silver ball.

  Maygist’s implants zoomed in on the ball, a complicated analytical readout scrolled down his retinal screen. “No,” he shouted.

  Immediately, the drones dropped, their twin barrels extending and readying to fire.

  The ball fell from Daria’s hand. She vaulted backwards, narrowly avoiding the electrifying spray of death from the twin drones.

  As the silver ball struck the ground, a wave of energy erupted from within and pulsed out across the dusty street. The drones sparked and dropped from the air, thudding and clanking to the ground to lie still.

  Maygist’s eyesight exploded in a series of shock waves and scrambled data as the electromagnetic pulse ran through his systems. Every cybernetic enhancement he had carefully improved himself with over the last few years, fell dead and became useless. His mind, stripped of all electronic augmentation shut itself down out of a sense of self-preservation. The data hacker fell forward, collapsing to the roadway and leaving a cloud of dust.

  The plascrete floor was old and pitted, with sharp edges that pressed into Maygist’s cheek as consciousness slowly returned to his mind. A light veneer of dust covered the floor. Its taste filled his mouth and coated his tongue, reminding him of the many severe hangovers he’d suffered throughout his life.

  Concentrating on his eyes, but still wary that the EMP unleashed by Daria had permanently damaged them, Maygist coerced his eyelids to open slowly. As soon as the light hit his ocular implants, they rebooted themselves, sending a stream of diagnostics across his view screen. When finished, they cleared away, allowing Maygist to view the world before him.