by Chris Mills
“What’s there?”
“A lift is on the other side,” Melbsi said. “May find communicator there. You get access card and go up. It’s been done a handful of times.”
“All the way?”
Laughs rose. “Foolish thoughts,” Turi said, jabbing Melbsi in the side. “High enough to get out of here.”
“How do I get there?”
“You serious?” Melbsi questioned. “Dangerous.”
“I crashed a car down here. I doubt I need to worry about much more.”
“Foolish,” Turi said. “Refinery way out to left. Go far and see sign. Left. Watch for smoke rising.”
Either the translator had some bugs now or this may be how they spoke in their own language. Stephen felt like knocking the side of his head. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll be off soon. Do you have some water?”
“Get him drink,” Turi said.
“Whiskey?” Melbsi questioned. “That human drink.”
“Water is fine, thank you,” Stephen said.
“May need more. Could be last night for you.”
“It won’t.”
Stephen tried not to rest his eyes much. His body stung slightly and ached. A nice bed would help. He hated to think of the others’ panic. Had Stephen done the right thing trying to get Kodon back? For all he knew, Hanash lied about giving them a chance and would have gunned them each down. All Stephen thought after he saw the car was getting Hanash out of there. Stephen gently patted his pocket.
“Thank you,” Stephen said. Clean and cool; Stephen sipped away at the water. Bam, bam, bam. Turi rose. The front door received another hit. Turi pulled a gun from his belt and headed to the front.
“What do you want?” Turi questioned.
“Crash,” a nasty voice slithered. “What do yah know about it?”
“What crash?”
“Ears open, Turi. Reward for info.”
“A reward?”
“Someone tore up our street,” the voice said with a nasty slither. Turi soon appeared. He eyed his weapon before sliding it back into its holster.
“They out now,” Turi warned. “Wait an hour. Be safer.”
Stephen nodded. The man sounded like a Kamorian. They had a snake-like tongue and most couldn’t break from sounding like that. The right setting on a translator would cancel it out. His ensured that the dialect, tone, speed, and slang would translate the best they could.
Gunfire suddenly rose. Stephen patted his knees. Shots came, went, and finally faded. His hosts drank on without as much as a flinch. A shot rang out. “Poor fools,” Turi spoke. “Maybe Jendaldul?”
“Maybe,” Melbsi said. “He not back yet.” Turi rose his glass and so did Melbsi. They took back a bit and sighed. Stephen patted his knee again. Every part of him wished he could climb a ladder now and get out of this mess. How did they live?
Bam, bam, bam. Turi groaned. He pulled his weapon once more and stomped to the front door. “What’s it now?” he questioned.
“This may be your night,” a distorted voice came through. “If you listen close to my words.”
“Who be you?”
“My name is not as important. I am looking for a human. Ten thousand geks alive. Five thousand dead.”
“A human, eh?” Turi questioned. Stephen froze. A blue glowing barrel was lined with his chest. Melbsi shook his head. “How I know geks are real?”
“I have no interest in lies. You can have all the salvage you want off these men. Their bodies will grow cold soon.”
“You kill them all?”
“Take a look for yourself. You have five minutes to consider my offer. I know he’s in there. Jones, there are no more deals to make with you.”
Turi soon emerged, weapon coming to line with Stephen. A smile kept to his face. “He’ll kill you the moment you open that door,” Stephen warned. “He’s more than a bounty hunter.”
“He may have killed the watch,” Melbsi said.
“May,” Turi said.
“Lots of noise.”
“I agree,” Turi said. “Better offer, Jones?”
“I don’t have any,” Stephen said. “He will kill you the moment you open that door. He is the reason that car crashed. I don’t know how he survived. Do you think he cares about anyone down here?”
“Geks, Turi,” Melbsi said. “Geks.”
“Them guns be worth much,” Turi said.
“You can take your chance and have a bullet in the head or let me get him away from here,” Stephen said. “You can still reap rewards in salvage.”
“Geks, Turi,” Melbsi spoke. “We could get better home.”
“I like this home,” Turi spoke.
“Give me a chance,” Stephen said. “If you can get me outside, I’ll make sure he doesn’t kill you. He could be setting a charge on your door.” Turi spat. “You have no reason to trust me. All I am telling you is not to trust him.”
“If geks are real,” Melbsi began.
“Man not show face,” Turi said. “I hate that.”
“Armor?”
“Fancy suit.”
“We should not trust, but geks are -”
“No more,” Turi said. “Come, Jones.”
The kitchen too had been kept nice like the living room. It was small with an island. Turi lifted up on it after flicking a switch. The tunnel had no light to it. “Hatch on other end,” Turi said. “Open and go. If you turn on us -”
“I have no reason too,” Stephen said.
Bam, bam, bam.
“Go now,” Turi said. “Your promise better hold.”
Stephen hopped down. A darkness quickly came over him as he scurried forth. Bits of light shined through some cracks ahead. Bam, bam. Hanash’s voice rose. “One minute!” he warned.
Stephen felt a lock and pulled it aside. The damn thing had weight. A good force finally made it open with a nasty creak. Bam, bam. Stephen pulled himself out to find himself on the other side of a dead tree. They had dug right through the roots.
“I see,” Hanash said. “You’re not in there are you, Jones? Not anymore.”
Stephen sprinted through the shadows towards the street. Nearly a dozen bodies lay over the fallen subdivision. No blood seeped from their wounds. Hanash had taken their heads and gutted them. Not one moved. Stephen leapt over one and sprinted on.
“You cannot go far,” Hanash’s voice rose. Something came to the shadows far behind. Stephen kept his feet moving as fast as he could. Suddenly, something slammed the ground with force. What may be an appliance lay shattered and unrepairable. Stephen gulped.
Sign. An off blue glow fluctuated far down the street. A shot rang out. Stephen darted across the street. Crash! Had no one any decency to recycle?
Stephen turned the corner at the sign. His legs burned. Every breath he took brought in enough dust that he felt could kill him if he ended up stuck here. Flames rose in the distance. The large complex broke past some buildings. High gates rose, a strange purple energy flowing over them. He coughed. His feet finally slowed.
Damn it. Stephen tried to slow his breath. An urge came to vomit. He dry heaved that taste again; bits of phlegm mixed with the muck in the street. Something approached. The black droid stared at Stephen with its red eyes. It had a very slim body. A white glows ran about its limbs and torso, and while it should bring some relief, it did not to Stephen. It pushed Stephen to his butt.
“Restricted area,” the droid said void of any emotion. “You will be terminated if you do not leave.”
The gate could only be two hundred feet at most away. Another of the droids guarded the only entrance, which also had the purple energy dancing upon it. “Someone’s coming to attack,” Stephen warned. “Please, you have to stop him.”
“A threat?” the droid questioned. An orange glow came above its wrist.
“He plans to steal,” Stephen began. A force toppled him to his side. The droid rolled him over once more with its foot and stepped past. A figure had arrived. Stephen managed t
o push himself up. The droid raced into the shadows after Hanash.
Stephen took shelter in an old parking lot outside. Large pieces of scrap belonging to a ruined car rested in a space. At some point, had Galat II all been the same? Could down here be where it started and then was left in the dust? The other sentry was on the move at the sound of the gunshot.
Stephen caught his breath and kept his eyes on the sentry. It raced fast. Shit. The gate opened to bring forth two more. Stephen kept behind the old wreckage. Gunshots erupted, followed by odd mechanical puffs and whines. Stephen took off, cursing in his head. The droids kept rushing behind him at the man in a suit. A blue bullet streaked through the air slamming another’s head.
The gate did not close. Stephen brought his hand on the gate and suddenly backed, screaming. His hand burned. He looked about for a button, something to lock that man out. Damn it. He stared at the refinery, shaking his head.
This refinery looked like death sucking the life out of the place. Fires raged, a spout coming out the stacks at times. Smoke poured out, yet it did not go as high as one would think. It spread out after a little distance. The size of the complex matched some he saw at home. A large set of doors were not far, pinned together with crates in front of them. Signs floated about with caution. People came down to this filth every day and made it worse.
Stephen raced towards the tall double doors. Minus the sentries, it didn’t appear the place made it easy for anyone to get in. He backed a bit, hearing another gunshot. Damn. He took a deep breath, sprinted, and leapt. His feet fought to help pull him up more. Finally, he felt his chest come over. Up he went again.
A window came not far from the top. Stephen peered inside. Pools of orange boiled on the floor. Machines moved to scoop up the melted alloy and move it to the processing line. He rubbed his elbow. Whack! He cursed. Once more he slammed. Crack. Stephen took an easy breath. ‘Focus’ an old voice would whisper. Crash! Down the glass came onto a small metal walkway.
Stephen rolled through covering his head. Bang! He held in the pain. He took deep breaths after he stood. Turi spoke of a keycard needed to ride a lift up or a communicator. Where was the lift to begin with? All he cared about was getting out more than calling for help now. Geks wouldn’t prevent him from getting up farther. He would shout till real police came and arrested him. They could contact Councilman Wallace.
Stephen headed quietly over the dark platform. Two droids floated by an assembly line. The alloy turned to rings that one stacked and the other bolted together. The belt ran around through a large machine, which spat out a different tint to the alloy.
The walkway went around the top of the entire room. This could be one of many for all he knew. With everything going on, it didn’t look like enough progress had been done here. Stephen gripped a handle by what may be used by the overseer. He wondered how many people worked here. He neared a door on the walkway, keeping his breathing in check.
Flickers became a steady glow. A table was pressed against the window with two chairs in front. Rust had come to the station. Everything in here needed to be pressed or turn to operate. The ash in the tray on the table wasn’t fresh. This room had little in it, beside a station with empty hooks and a fridge with a nasty smell coming as he neared.
Stephen pressed open another door to find a work area in the same shape. The table here had no controls at all and lacked chairs. Trays and goggles piled high on it. He looked over the stacks and sighed. How did people manage to work here?
In Stephen’s mind, he kept seeing showers and lockers for the workers. There he’d find a pass out of here that someone forgot. How did they manage to leave if they didn’t have the clearance though? Spare? Had they switched to a DNA signature?
Stephen backed up. Something sharp pierced his neck. He cursed and wiped the blood. Hooks lined the wall. The tip of one had broken off. Blood clung to the end. He pushed aside a yellow vest. Damn. Lots of blood covered one at the end. Part of the edge looked crushed. Something stuck out of its pocket. Stephen’s smile didn’t last long. The poor worker may never have a chance to use this again. He stuck it in his pocket and ran out onto the new walkway.
The belt ride would be deadly. On these pieces went, droids working to assemble more. A press slammed the moment one’s hands came back. It may be part of a weird axel or hell, it might be some death trap like a mine. This whole facility could go up like in the movies. Stephen shook it all from his head.
Stephen made his way down the walkway. Down below, a droid bumped into another. Neither cared for the pipe that fell. One simply floated off towards a rack for a new one. A force came to Stephen’s back. He saw the ground rushing. This time he didn’t brace his face with his hands, he covered it with his arms.
Chapter Seventeen
No crack. No shock. His body slowed and dropped. The green field faded into nothingness. A droid sped around him and stared down. “Violation,” it said. “Report to management.”
The droid hovered off. Stephen groaned. Clank. The boots neared. Stephen’s body rolled and smacked into a large barrel. Hanash rushed. His hands took hold, and he sent Stephen sliding over the floor.
“Did you think they could have helped?” Hanash’s dark, distorted voice questioned. Stephen felt something warm seeping down his face. Hanash slammed his fist once more. “I’ll make your death quick. Give it to me!”
Stephen groaned. His body slid. A hardness dug into his back. “Wait,” Stephen said. Hanash’s hand gripped Stephen’s throat. “Please. I’ll give it to you.” The dark glove retreated. Stephen reached down into his pocket. “Here.” Hanash tore Kodon from Stephen’s hands.
“Smart,” Hanash said. His hand came to his belt. He let his gun come to his side. A piece popped out and took hold. It blended to his suit well. Hanash backed away holding the tube high as if he had earned a trophy.
Suddenly, his helmet cracked, an eye piece splitting down the middle. Stephen brought around the black pole again. Hanash stumbled from the blow. Bits of the helmet collided with the ground. Stephen struggled to keep hold. The pole flew across the room and slid to a halt by one of the machines. A blow caught Stephen’s side. Hanash flung his fist again, missing by an inch.
Hanash stumbled for a bit. Stephen spotted another pipe not far. “Bzl dol,” the distorted mess came. It spoke little. Stephen rubbed his side and came to a knee. Hanash took hold of the helmet and pulled it off.
There are instances in life where a person would freeze. This didn’t come from fear, nor the knowing if you move bad things will happen. Stephen froze, staring at the dead. Darren spat on the ground and wiped his bleeding head. A kick sent Stephen farther back. Darren stumbled and spat once more.
A gun rose, lining with Stephen’s head. “You’re dead,” Stephen said.
“Dead?” Darren questioned. “Yes. You fools played to that. I told you something and it made it easy.”
“Herald trusted you.”
“I spent too many years on that damn ship!” Darren shouted. “I had to be away from everything to watch that man.”
“He mourned for you!” Stephen blasted.
“Like he should,” Darren said. He kept the gun lined up with Stephen’s head. “I grew up becoming the perfect agent and found an opening for some needed time off. It took him damn long enough to find it. Another month and I’d have left. This is long overdue. Of anyone, you have given me the greatest challenge in my days. I will enjoy ending you, Jones.”
“All this,” Stephen began, “for power?” Not far away, Kodon lay. Darren scooped it up with a smile. “It shouldn’t have gone this far?! Power is not worth lives!”
“It does amaze me,” Darren began, “what people will do for this. All I needed was to wave the idea of geks in Howard’s face to get him onboard. I’d have killed him once he got back, but Herald took care of that. Then you, of all people, you came. I’d never seen someone crippled like you. No wonder you bit at the opportunity to come. You brought along your friends. You all bar
ely managed to escape me twice. Not this time.”
“How did you know where we were?” Stephen said. “How? This planet -”
“I’m one of the people who can track the tube,” Darren said. “I didn’t need to go farther than a program to lock onto it. That was my secret from them. No one can know everything.”
“Who do you work for?”
“Enough,” Darren said. “Face your fate.”
“Why do I have to die?” Stephen questioned. “I never knew it was there till it fell out of an envelope. I don’t even know what it looks like.” He, however, knew how scared Herald was over the thought of it being used for destruction. It did the same to Stephen.
“The most I can do is let you see it before you die,” Darren said.
“How?”
“Do you think Herald didn’t share the means to open it?” Darren questioned. “This does well to mask the signature. Once I’m at my ship, no one will follow its new containment.” He brought his wrist around. A screen rose above it as rays of light collided. “Engage program vault.” The screen flashed. “Good. Open Kodon.” Beep.
Darren held out the tube for Stephen to see. A mist sprayed lightly as the top rose. Darren let the gun take its place on his belt. His smile grew. Stephen stared. From what Herald had said, this thing should glow blue. The inner chamber came out further. Darren held it close, then his face went from confusion to rage. He popped it back in, gun rising.
“Where the fuck is it?!” Darren bellowed. The gun struck Stephen’s cheek. “Where is it?!”
Stephen fell. He coughed. A foot came under him again. Darren cursed loudly. He pulled him to his feet by his very hair and pushed towards the belt.
“You will answer me,” Darren said.
“I don’t know,” Stephen said. “It could have been -” He groaned. The constructions rolled along the belt ahead. “I’m telling the fucking truth!” His body slammed right into the belt. Pain surged in Stephen’s back.
Darren cursed. He struggled with the gun on his belt. “Come, damn it!” he cursed.
“This is a restricted area,” a placid voice rose.