He scowled. Yes, Jacks had gotten the deal done and the Red Star must have gotten the message. He’d never heard about or from her again. The million credits were never doled out, thankfully, since Karson had also escaped. Though he really wanted to know if what he suspected was true or not. That the Red Star had figured out he was supplying the Union with top secret materials. If she had, he would have been obligated to do something about it. Regardless of how much it cost him.
“Ya always ruminatin’ when ah see ya, Elien.”
Spirits be damned! That man! How does he move so blasted quietly!? He turned around slowly, trying to still his heartrate and not look flustered. His hand ran down his senatorial robe as he set his cup down on his desk.
“Thank you for coming so soon, Mr. Jackson.”
“Aww, ya don’ hafta ‘Mister Jackson’ me, sir. Jacks will be jus’ fine, as always.” Jacks flashed that evil grin that caused a shudder to go up Elien’s spine. “Now, it’s been a while since last we chatted. This a social call? Cuz, it kent be business. Ah finished wit’ all o’that years ago.”
Elien came around the desk and towards where Jacks stood in the office doorway. “It isn’t anything requiring you to leave the city. Only reaching out to your contacts in the Wastelands. All of my sources are dried up. I’m hearing interesting things coming from that domain. And it’s mostly to do with the Sutures. There are clear indications the Union’s returned. Property being destroyed. Soldiers taking over towns. If it is, they’re not being very secretive about it. So far, the Council just considers the accounts random acts of violence endemic to that lawless region. I, however, believe Berricks is leading the charge.”
“Berricks? As in Sam Berricks? That sergeant we met on that cruiser years ago?”
Jacks frowned eyes narrowed as Elien smiled. “Yes. The very same. Only, he’s a general now. And I need to make contact with him. Arrange another meeting. He seems to be utilizing the plan I crafted once upon a time. Criminal activity is up throughout all the domains. Even Aquila Mons has seen an uptick in violent activities. Organized criminal outfits being more brazen about their business. Thugs robbing and mugging. The legal authority is pushed to their limits trying to handle the mess.”
“Yeah. Mah home got broke inta a few months back. Ain’ nothin’ like that happened ta me or mah family bafer… Ain’ ya got aides fer what ya want? Not so sure how much help ah ken be.”
“Berricks is in the Wastelands and, as always, there’s a certain amount of discretion I’d like to use in these interactions. You know the dangers. You always were one of my more dependable agents.”
Jacks gave a half frown. “That’s right flatterin’ o’ya, sir. An’ ah know the dangers. Better’n most. But, fer all o’that, ya shore don’ seem ta fear me comin’ up ter yer offices right now.”
“Why, Jacks, you’re one of my constituents now. You live in the central ring. Your wife is a respected member of the Withershin Community Center. And you have three charming young children. You contribute to your community in so many ways! And I have to show my respect for that. Your past aside.”
Elien spread his arms out pleasantly as if to give him a firm hug. But Jacks only shook his head and put on a semi smile.
“Ah shore do appreciate yer kind words, senator. But, y’know ah ain’ as eager these days ta welcome back the Union as you would. Never really was, ah don’ s’pose. Back then, ah jus’ din’t give a shit. Nowadays… like ya said, Elien, mah family’n ah contribute now. An’ we ain’ lookin’ ter rock the boat, y’know? What would we gain by becomin’ Union folk ag’n?”
Elien’s hands fell to his sides as he looked the other man over incredulously. Jacks used to be an aggressive young gunslinger. But he supposed reckless youth had to give over to age eventually. Certainly, the man was much greyer (and more wrinkled) than he’d been twenty years ago. He was stockier too. Probably still dangerous and someone one didn’t want to tangle with without reason, but his age was very apparent to Elien now. He looked worn out and worn in. Fading jeans, denim shirt, a suede jacket hanging around his bulging gut. It all gave him an old, authentic look out of time. A relic. Elien sighed.
“Have you seen the state of our domains?” Elien raised and lowered his finger on every punctuated beat. “Been in line for groceries lately? Taken our public transit for a lift? Our infrastructure is crumbling. Hinon is collapsing in on itself. Trade networks, diminishing.”
He began pacing the room and folded his arms into the sleeves of his robe. “Trade with the outer colonies is now almost impossible due to overregulation and strict tariff implementation. The Supreme Chancellor has to, you know? And it’s not as if the Council is going out of their way to find another solution. No, our economy is on the verge of implosion. Fewer and fewer exports, a rise in imports. Finances heading off world rather into our own coffers. Fewer businesses wishing to set up their operations here. Moving further outward, towards the Continuum. Even our trade agreements with the Union are in danger of annihilation! President Lee himself is poised to just shred the agreement due to the tariffs. If that were to happen, Jacks, I fear it would be a crippling blow. Our very survival is at stake! Hinon has been completely abandoned by the government and we’re living on borrowed time. Their incompetence is crushing us!”
Jacks gave something close to a scowl and pointed a finger at him. “Sounds ta me like you’n yer senator buddies need ta git on toppa that, then.”
Elien stopped and waved his comment away. “Jacks, I need to know what the Union is planning. I need to talk to Berricks! It’s been three years since the last Union vessel arrived, and fewer merchant vessels in the last seven months than I’m comfortable with. Now, suddenly, there’s a dreadnought in orbit. Do you honestly believe that the senate is in any position to address what ails us? They’ve retreated into their own spheres of influence, to live out what days of power they might have left. And I refuse to let this world die without a fight!”
Elien almost screamed this last line as he hammered his fist into his palm for emphasis. Jacks furrowed his brow and stared at the floor scratching his balding pate. Then looked back up and fixed him with hard, narrowed eyes.
“Awright. Ah see what yer sayin’ an’… maybe we ain’ gots no choice here. Let me see who ah ken rattle up, see what ah ken do.”
“I greatly appreciate your assistance, Jacks. More than you know.”
Jacks nodded. “Glad ah ken be o’service.”
He turned to leave and stopped. A young dark-skinned woman was standing in the doorway looking hesitant to speak. Elien frowned. How long had she been standing there? It was his assistant, Amelia. He looked to the timepiece on the wall. Yes, it was time for her arrival all right.
“My apologies, sir,” she started. “I just wanted to let you know I was here. Was there anything I can get either of you?”
“No, ma’am. Ah was jus’ leavin’,” Jacks smiled and walked past her. He looked back to Elien. “Don’ ya worry, sir. Ah’m on top o’that business.”
Elien watched Jacks leave and saw his assistant still waiting, “I’m fine, Amelia. Thank you. Oh, please do me a favor, though. I need to set up a meeting with Senator Carrus. Will you contact his office and see if he’s available today? If not, tomorrow will be fine.”
“Yes, sir. Will there be anything else?”
“No, that will do. Thank you.”
Elien sat down at his desk as Amelia left the office. He watched her while taking his seat, and felt an old familiar sensation clawing at his gut. There were events in motion and he wasn’t certain if he had control over any of them.
JACKS WALKED BRISKLY down the corridor towards the lift at its end. Meeting with Elien Sonoros always left a nasty taste in his mouth. The man was a snake and he didn’t trust him. Always plotting and planning, coiled up and ready to strike the unsuspecting. Yet, he supposed a communications projection (com-pro) or two couldn’t hurt and he doubted anything would come out of it regardless.
They’
d met Sam Berricks only that one time when Lee had agreed to the meeting. Standing in the back of the room with an associate of his that he’d brought on to help, Wilkes (who was dead now courtesy of one of the network collapses), he got a good measure of Berricks. They met eyes only briefly, but it’d been enough to show him something that Sonoros was completely oblivious to. A grizzled veteran who would gun you down and not bat an eyelash doing it, who could and would do anything in the name of the Union. A man whose eyes said they didn’t give two shits about how you felt or what you thought. If you were in the way, you got dead real quick. He was a man you didn’t want to take to task. A man Jacks never wanted to deal with again.
And there was Sonoros blindly blathering away like he was the world’s greatest master manipulator when everyone in his presence could clearly see what he was doing. Like the men he was talking to were dumb enough to let him call the shots. And it surprised Jacks when they agreed to give the plan a shot anyway. Especially given how obvious it was Berricks despised the senator deeply and Lee was merely humoring him. Course, he figured maybe they just felt Elien was a useful fool. Just like Sonoros thought he was.
The plan was only in motion for five or six years, if that, before it started falling apart. Probably had something to do with Lynch and Wilson, he bet.
Good team, those two. Thick as thieves and dangerous as vipers.
Whatever had gone down, the Union had left. And Jacks had suspected for good. Now he wasn’t so sure as he waited for the lift doors to open. When they did, Jacks placed one hand on the lift door’s frame and stared to the floor.
Sonoros is right ‘bout one thing, things’re gittin’ bad. An’ if’n sumtin ain’ done ‘bout it soon, there may not be much left fer the Union ta care ‘bout… Jacks frowned. But ken they do sumtin ‘bout it?
Once upon a time, he’d been all in on the endeavor because it seemed like fun and not because of giving a damn about who was in charge. Now, an unsettling tremor was heavy in his body. Would reaching out to the Union help or hinder their ability to heal? Would lives be disrupted? Lost? He didn’t have the answers and hated Sonoros for bringing him back into the mix. But, at the same time, appreciated the heads up.
He let go of the frame and stepped inside. The doors slid shut. Decisions of this nature were above his paygrade. He’d reach out, make contact, though. Then, he was packing the family up and heading to the outer colonies. Had to be better than watching the slow march to war once again.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: REST FER A SPELL
A VERY LOUD squeal sounded out as the tram came to a shuddering stop. Durante tried not to retch, his stomach fighting to flee his innards. Aidele didn’t seem to notice the sudden change in velocity as she brought the vehicle to a stop. Once everything was shut down, she swiveled her chair around and worked her way past Durante and exited. He followed suit and stood up, legs wobbling uncontrollably as if he’d just gotten off the world’s most violent roller coaster. Looking around, he saw that they were on a vast station platform with railings supporting a dozen or more hubs for trams.
And every location was completely deserted.
It was almost sad, really. No trams. No people. Barely lit. Dozens of support columns rose high up towards a dark ceiling where metal crossbeams formed squares around the sources of what little light there was casting those beams under a white glow. Most of the station was relatively flat, broken only by unloading hubs on each platform and stairwells in the center of the walkways rising up and through the ceiling. Aidele was heading towards the stairwell of their own platform.
“Lonely,” the word fell from Durante’s mouth before he even realized he was going to say anything.
Aidele stopped and glanced at him. “Whadya mean?”
“Well, it’s just so… empty. Ours is the only tram here. It’s like a place time has forgotten and doesn’t care to remember.”
“Couldn’t tell ya when it was used last. Most probably jus’ use the train station anymore. Not really relevant, though. We came for the labs. They’re this way.”
She thrust a thumb towards the stairwell and then turned. Her knotted hair trailed an arc through the air, duster replicating the motion. She looked ragged, Durante thought. Torn and muddied clothes, the red of the duster faded and caked with grit. If he hadn’t known her, and was just meeting her, he would’ve immediately taken her for some vagrant looking for her next fix. Just some relic, as sad and lonely as the station.
Durante sighed and followed after her. When they’d first left, she’d been in fairly good spirits. However, as the trip progressed and they took turns resting, she soured to the point of hardly speaking. He couldn’t blame her, though. He himself had only anticipated a few hours’ journey. Then, after about half a day, it dawned on him; the Wastelands were nearly the width of the North American continent on Earth. A moan had escaped his lips at the revelation. And now, two-and-a-half days later, they’d finally arrived. Sore and in desperate need of bathing. And thinking on that sobering thought, he wagered he looked just as much the vagrant.
It was fortunate, he considered passing a few benches, that there’d been rest stops to stretch the legs and take care of nature’s business. Otherwise, he shuddered to think how bad the tram interior would have smelled as well. Even with walking around, though, his legs still felt like jelly trying to hold up an elephant as they mounted the stairs and slowly made their way up. Somehow, they managed the feat and found themselves in a massive reception foyer lined with shops and a dilapidated information booth in its center. There were fewer lights on here leaving the area mostly dark with a few bright spots on the floor cast about in hazy self-contained circles.
…This is the part where the monsters attack… Durante thought and shuddered.
“Haven’t been this way since ah was a kid…” Aidele broke the silence looking around.
“Nice to see they left us at least a few lights to see by.”
“Emergency lighting,” she said absently. “Probably maintained by someone every so often.”
“If that info booth is anything to go by, they’re not very good at their jobs.” He pointed at the boarded-up booth where glass was broken and detritus lay on the floor at the base.
Aidele didn’t seem to notice or care. “That way leads to the train depot that heads out into the Wastelands and out towards the Mons cities.”
Durante watched her as she pointed down one very dark corridor to their left. Then she pointed to their right towards another pitch-black corridor beyond the shops lining the old rusted walls that were barely visible in the gloom. Many of their windows boarded up as well. Metal shades drawn against their interiors in others.
“Thataway’s gotta be the motels and restaurants. Don’ remember exactly.” Then she pointed straight ahead. “Up yonder, it goes to the offices, storage, luggage depots, and some other businesses, if’n ah remember correctly. Beyond them, should be the entryway ta the labs.”
“Are you sure?”
“Nope. But ah seem ta recall a giant blue lobster. If’n it’s still there, an’ if’n we ken find it, ah reckon ah’ll remember the way ta mah father’s labs.”
“That’s a lot of, ‘ifs’. And… a giant blue lobster?”
Aidele walked across to the other side of the foyer. Durante followed. Their footsteps clattered off the floor, echoes coming back from every dark corner.
“We’ve got plenty o’time,” she said.
Durante shook his head. “Think they left anything in here for us to eat?”
“If’n they did, ya probably ain’ gonna want it.”
THREE MORE HOURS passed as they navigated the corridors, several times getting turned around. Of course, Durante wasn’t certain where they were going anyhow. He’d never tried to get to the labs this way. Eventually, they came to an intersection with one hallway being short and dead-ending at a single door on the left wall. Other than that, there was nothing else that way. What really caught Durante’s attention, though, was a giant blue ca
rtoon lobster statue made of what clearly was once shining plastic. It was standing guard at the intersection, on its face a wide unsettling smile.
“Okay. This is creepy.”
“I think there used to be a daycare in there. Definitely seen better days.”
Durante ran a finger over its rough surface. He imagined it once was smooth. Now it was cracked and showing signs of fading color. Behind it, was a glassy door through the rounded corner where the two corridors connected. Whatever words had once been in the large windows beside it had long since peeled away. Nothing could be seen through the door or windows as just on the other side of them large slabs of wood had been emplaced.
“If so, then they were totally trying to frighten those kids into stasis. Nightmare fuel this thing is.” Durante flicked a finger into its face with a muffled thunk. “I hate its smile.”
Aidele didn’t respond as she headed down the short hallway towards the door at the end. They found a small number pad on the wall next to a code locked door with a view beyond its small window showing nothing but pitch-black darkness. Durante leaned inward to cover his eyes trying to look through the skinny portal. Seeing nothing but his own reflection due to the deep void beyond, he stepped away.
“So, now what?”
“Shush. Ah’m tryin’ ta think.”
A frown crossed her face in that deep way of hers when focusing on a problem. He waited for several long moments and found he needed something to busy himself with. Just staring in silence was almost as unnerving as that lobster statue at the intersection.
“Can I see your father’s journal?”
Aidele looked at him for a few seconds, then reached into her duster’s inner pocket and pulled it out to hand to him, then went right back to staring at the lock as if it would simply open under her gaze. She tried a few random four-digit codes and was rewarded with angry sounding buzzes and a vivid red light flashing in her face. Durante flipped through the journal hoping that maybe Professor Wilson thought to leave the code in a margin somewhere. Beeps and buzzes continued to echo outward as the pin-pad continued to reject the numbers she entered.
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