by Nathan Pedde
Des stopped at a street corner to wait for the lights to turn green with a half a dozen other people. Most of them were middle aged and looked to be shopkeepers and retail clerks of the area.
One lady in a business suit and tie was holding a little girl in a pink dress close to her. The ladies makeup had run and streaked her cheeks. Des didn’t stare at her, but he wondered why she would be crying. She was in a shelter, safe. He was the one who was almost spaced. He was the one who risked his life to save hers.
How does she have any right to cry over this? Des thought to himself.
Des buttoned down any emotions, he knew it was better not to create a scene in the crowd. He adopted the confused, scared look the rest of the crowd had on. He didn’t want to be remembered.
As he waited for the light to turn green, a couple of construction workers walked up beside him. They both wore similar work clothes, both covered in a light sprinkling of dirt and debris.
“I’m telling you,” the First Worker said, “a missile hit the hull.”
“I don’t believe it,” the Second Worker said.
“What’s there not to believe,” the First Worker said, “They have a full section closed off.”
“Have you tried to get in it?”
“No, the Captain has guards stationed there,” the First Worker said, “They won’t let us get close.”
“Balderdash.”
The signal light turned green, it was safe to walk. Des stepped forward, hoping those two workers would walk across, as Des wanted to hear what they had to say. However, that wasn’t the case. The two workers stood on the corner of the road arguing with each other.
Des walked the remainder of the trip home in the depths of his own thoughts. He wondered if there was some way he could have stopped the missile from hitting.
He autopiloted home, his feet seemed to take him down the road where he needed to go. He spent the entire walk home either checking to see if he was being followed or lost in his own thoughts. He reached his uncle's townhouse before he knew it. He found Sheemo and Susan sitting in the kitchen talking.
They both looked at Des as he walked past. Des hoped they wouldn’t talk to him. He needed to be by himself for a while.
“Hey Des,” Sheemo asked, “Do you have a moment?”
“Not really,” Des said, “I’ve homework to do.”
“You’ve said you’ll explain later,” Susan said, “Remember?”
Des knew she was referring to his quick exit and cryptic instructions.
“I’d like to hear an explanation as well,” Sheemo said.
Des told them the lie Cryslis had told him to say. The lie about the broken elevator and how he had to rush out to save Elsie. He wasn’t sure if they believed him or not. Sheemo grinned ear to ear, but Susan had a puzzled look on her face.
“So you like her that much,” Sheemo said, “to risk your life and the wrath of Captain Kusheeno for her?”
Des’s face turned deep red.
“She’s my friend,” Des said.
“Would you’ve done that for Alix, or Frank or any of your other friends?” Sheemo said.
Des’s face turned a deeper red, and he said nothing. The truth was that he would probably risk his life for any of his friends, but the lie required him to say nothing.
“I have one question,” Susan said.
“Why did you want to be dropped off at the parking garage?” Susan said, “Elsie’s work isn’t anywhere near there, and you don’t own a hover-scooter of any kind.”
“I rented a hover-scooter,” Des said.
“How?” Susan said, “There are no charges on your card?”
“I get tip-chips from being a courier,” Des said.
“Right,” Susan said.
There was a silence between the three of them. Sheemo had a grin plastered across his face.
“Des and Elsie sitting in a tree…” Sheemo said.
“Are you six?” Des said, “I’m going to my room. I’ve homework to do.”
***
Des sat down on his desk chair and slammed his head onto the top of the desk. Tears rolled down his face. He felt ashamed for giving up. He knew he had given up and was ready to let go of the pipe. He boiled down the emotions and held onto them tight, lest they come out and his brother or Susan hear him.
He still had his cover and his secrets to maintain. Des had no idea what he was doing and he had to pull himself together to keep going.
Des put his hand in his pocket to pull out his phone. In his pocket was a small device, smaller than his thumb. It was deformed and made out of a dark metal. The entire apparatus was homemade.
He had no idea what it did and how it arrived in his pocket.
On one side of the device was a small button with little letters engraved around it which said, “Press me.”
Des looked at the device for a long time. He was unsure what was the smart thing to do, should he hit the button and see what happened. He was confident it was probably a bomb of some kind.
After a long while of studying the device, Des pressed the button.
At first, nothing happened, and Des thought it had to be broken or some type of joke. After a moment, a small earpiece attached to a wire popped out. Des put the earpiece in his ear, he was confident it was going to electrocute him or something.
“Maybe implant alien creatures in my ear,” Des said.
“You watch too many horror flicks,” a Voice said through the earpiece.
The voice was of Cooley, even after a week of working with Cryslis and Cooley, he could recognize their voices.
“How do I know it’s you?” Des said.
“Pineapple banana-man,” Cooley said, “I just sent you a text on your phone. What does it say?”
Des looked down at his phone, a single text sat on the screen. It was from Cooley’s secured phone, so unless someone jumped Cooley, then it was correct.
“Pineapple banana-man,” Des read.
“Believe me now?” Cooley said.
“Yes,” Des said, “I'm just paranoid.”
“No,” Cooley said, “You’re careful, and that’s okay.”
“What do you need so badly to make you slip me a comm device so smoothly.”
Cooley chuckled on the other end of the line, “I was once where you were at.”
“You were a conscripted 16-year old who had been forced into doing something he didn’t want to do. After which, you almost died for people who will never know of your sacrifice?”
“Not exactly,” Cooley said.
“Then why are you bugging me?” Des said, “I’ve homework to do.”
“I was in the Marines,” Cooley said, “Signed up underage at sixteen with a forged parent signature.”
“And?”
“Shut up and listen,” Cooley said, “When I was in, my parents disowned me for joining up, but I was good at what I did. I was in it for three years, and I managed to get onto the Black Team Six by the end of my first year. I almost died a dozen times doing things I can’t tell anyone about.”
Des gripped the arm rests of his chair. He wanted to rip it off and break it to show Cooley how much of an asshole he was being.
“Is this the bigger victim game?” Des said.
“No. It’s the fact that I’ve gone through everything you just did. I’ve been in situations where I have given up on life and accepted death, only to survive somehow. I have the scars to prove it. Both visible and mental.”
“So I’m not supposed to not feel…”
“What you’re going through is normal, especially for someone who has little training,” Cooley said.
Des released his arm rest and let it go. A single tear dripped down his cheek.
“What do I do?”
“Concentrate on homework and your tasks,” Cooley said, “things will get better, you just need to have patience and to give it time.”
“Okay,” Des said, “Thank you. And I apologize for being a dick.”
&n
bsp; “No worries,” Cooley said, “If you need to talk, let me know, and we can meet in deserted underground parking like real spies. Or I can slip you a new device. Up to you.”
Des laughed as he felt better.
“And flush this device. Cryslis doesn’t need to know I built it let alone slipped it in your pocket.”
Chapter 17
The days began to slip by as Des got into a routine. He would get up at four in the morning and get to the safehouse. He would take a different route every day to keep from being spotted. Des was still paranoid he was going to slip up one day and needed to change things up.
After the first week, Cooley set up drop areas for him to change instead. Des would get up at four in the morning, walk to an alley or a park. Find the drop box and change into his Military Academy uniform. The face was the easy part as it was putting on the necklace. The rest of the disguise, he would change in one of the coffee shops which were open at that time of the morning.
After his hour lecture, Des would sneak away from Veer and disappear into the school. He would make his way to a different drop point and remove the uniform and disguise. He would change into his high school uniform and make his way to his regular school.
After school, he had to make an appearance at Courier One before he got dragged away on some mission for Cryslis. Either he had to break into somewhere for information, follow someone, or just watch someone. Des would be lying to himself if he said that none of it was exciting or exhilarating.
In between all of this, he would study and do homework. The free fall of his grades had stopped but they hadn’t managed to raise at all. Des had thought it may have been too little too late, however, he knew he had to try somehow to correct his grades.
All of this and no more attacks came, no more alarms range through the station. This worried Des as the hadn’t caught the saboteur. It meant whoever was making the attacks was changing his methods and would strike when they weren’t ready for it.
One day, he had finished the school day like normal and was told by Cryslis he had the day off from Courier One. However, he needed to do a couple of quick missions for her.
Des wore his street clothes, which consisted of a pair of pants and a t-shirt. They were stained with dirt and other unsavory debris from his unwanted exercise. Des also wore his holo-disguise and had his Ryder Fly face on.
He looked down at his watch, it was getting later in the afternoon, he was running out of time. He had places to be and things to do.
The mission, despite being a simple snatch and grab, hadn’t gone as planned. Des hadn’t even gotten into the building before he was spotted by Veer and some of his friends.
Now he hid behind a pile of plastic pallet flats in a small corner in a dark and dirty alleyway. The shadows of the alley were caused by various pipes and electrical wires which spread out above Des’s head. The standard station lighting, usually couldn’t reach this area.
Des took a long breath as he gagged slightly as the scent caused bile to rise up from his gut. The smell of rotten eggs from multiple fuel production plants filled the air around him. It was a downside of living in a steel enclosed cylinder with recycled air, sometimes foul smells tended to linger longer than Des thought they should.
The whine of machinery rang out from the building, the whirl drowned out any sound from his surroundings. Des strained his ears hunting for the clink and thump of boots on pavement, but he couldn’t hear anything.
Down the end of the alleyway, a shadowy figure walked out from around a corner and was silhouetted by the station’s street lights. Based on the figure’s size, Des could tell he hadn’t managed to loose Veer. Des needed to get away.
Not that he was scared of Veer, at the moment, Des didn’t have time to deal with him. He never had time to deal with Veer.
Veer pointed at him and yelled something. Des couldn’t make out over top of the racket from all the machinery. Des held his hand mockingly over his ear and mouthed the word, “What?”
Additional figures entered the alley behind Veer as they ran at him. Des couldn’t make out who they were in the dim light, but at that moment, he didn’t want to.
Des knocked down pallet flats behind him as he turned and ran down the alley in the opposite direction as Veer and his goons. He checked behind himself, and the goons followed him through the small alley. To Des, it appeared Veer wasn’t going to give up so easily.
Ahead of Des, the alley opened up to the busy street, which was filled with large cube trucks and large cargo trucks. They rumbled down the jam-packed road. A sign was posted on the side of a building. The sign said, ‘Brown Sector. Fuel Processing this way’.
The sidewalks were packed with people wearing work clothes, heavy boots, and hard helmets. The people were of different shapes and sizes, and a few of them turned and stared at Des as he burst out of the alley and into the street.
Des pushed passed them as he ran as fast as his legs would take him through the packed crowd. He ignored the different shocked looks and stares Des had earned. He knew his actions weren’t subtle and would be noticed by many people, but it couldn’t be helped at the moment.
A hundred feet behind Des was the goons who chased him. Like Des, they were dressed in simple street clothes, but in their hands was a pin shooter.
A buzz echoed behind him. Des ducked flat to the ground as a loud thud reverberated above Des’s head.
Des looked up, and a rather large looking toothpick-like object stuck into the wall behind him. It sent sparks a couple feet around him.
“You brought a pin shooter?” Des yelled, “You idiot.”
Curses and shouts echoed from around the street. Des didn’t need to look to see the shocked looks plastered on everyone's faces. Des knew what the people's reactions would be. Someone would be on his phone and the station guards would be on their way and would get involved.
***
Des jumped onto his feet and ran down the street. Fear crept up his spine as another pin ricocheted off a parked hover-car. They wouldn’t kill him, only paralyze him for a few hours of excruciating pain.
“Cut him off,” Veer yelled behind him.
Des had no intention of getting captured by Veer and his goons again. He passed more workers down the street. They all looked at Des as he ran by, yet no one moved to help.
He turned into a small alley, and he jumped over the top of a garbage can, which was knocked over as he ran past. The alley ran straight to the other side of the street, but another smaller one broke off at a junction in the middle of it.
Two more goons appeared on the other side of the alley in front of Des. The had managed to cut him off.
Des slid on the wet pavement as he turned down a smaller alley. He had to keep moving and figure out a way to lose them.
The smaller alley was a dead end. Large sliding doors to the buildings sat along the sides, but there was no way out.
Des looked around for an escape. He knew there had to be an escape, and some way out. He saw a small drain pipe which ran up the side of the building, and a large brass grated drain cover to one side of the alley. There had to be some way for him to use those as a means of escape.
Sitting in a small refuse pile was a skinny metal pole about three and a half feet long. Des picked it up and held it in his hands.
Four of the thugs with Veer behind appeared at the end of the alley. Each of the thugs and Veer had pin shooters out and pointed at Des.
“We have you now,” Veer said.
“We have you now?” Des said, “That sounds like you’re sure of it.”
“You’re caught,” Veer said, “I’ve got friends with weapons, you have no escape, and a simple piece of garbage isn't a weapon. You’re caught.”
“Nah,” Des said, “I have three ways out of this.”
Des put his other hand into his jacket pocket. He dug past some pieces of plasto-paper as he hunted for a small object.
“All I have to do is shoot, and I have you,” Veer sa
id, “Ryder. Bah. That’s such a fake name. Is that even your real face?”
“Is that yours?”
“I don’t have time for this,” Veer said as he raised his pin shooter up.
Des heard the distinct buzz. The pin flew in the air straight at Des’s face. He jerked to the side. The projectile flew by Des’s head. An inch closer and pin would have lodged into his face.
“Shoot him,” Veer said.
Des took a deep breath as he pulled his hand out of his pocket. In his hand was a small metallic ball which he threw at Veer and his thugs. The ball landed at Veer’s feet and exploded. A cloud of thick green smoke filled the small area of the alley. The blinding smoke caused them to cough and gag on the foul stench.
He grabbed the steel grate and lifted it off of the ground. He slammed it down next to the drain hole it revealed. The hard smash rang against the surrounding buildings.
Des, however, didn’t go into the street drain. He climbed up the slippery metal drain pipe and up onto the roof.
“Into the sewers,” Veer yelled from the alley below, “He’s getting away.”
The echo of the steel grate being slid away from the drain hole bounced off of the alley walls. A moment later and the heavy footsteps of the men's boot prints faded from the little alley.
Des lay on top of the flat roof of the warehouse-style building. He looked up into the sky and rested for a moment. Sweat dripped down his forehead and soaked collar of his shirt.
Sirens blared out in the distance as the station guards raced closer to him. Not that they were any help, he had managed to evade Veer and his goons on his own.
“Des, you there,” Elsie’s voice said in his head.
Her voice ringing in his head like a bad hallucination. Des had a new communication chip in his ear which let him talk to not only Cryslis, but Cooley, and Elsie as well. It still worked the same way, which made it easy to learn. Des had started to call it the Neuronet as a joke and the joke stuck.
“I’m here,” Des said, “Where would I be?”
“Did you get the file?” Elsie asked.
Des knew she didn’t get his joke. Or if she did, she didn’t make a note of it.