by F. E. Arliss
When Violet was closing in on eighteen the crew started to worry. Her parents wanted her to go to nursing school or some such dumbass plan. Jolly Jack had seen the writing on the wall and had put in for a transfer to the aerial space repair bay above the newly discovered planet UZ627. Most of the people fleeing Earth’s poisoned atmosphere were headed there. The ‘new Earth’ had inspired the derivative nickname Uzi from its UZ627 code. Jack just snorted in disgust. What a ridiculous name for their new home. Clearly the idiots had no clue what an ancient weapon of violence the Uzi had been. Didn’t seem like they taught these people anything in school anymore.
Violet was beside herself that he was leaving. Jack assured her that when she reached eighteen she could do anything she wanted and that included coming to Uzi’s aerial repair bay with him. Violet had only nodded.
Her parents found out three days before her eighteenth birthday that they were being transferred to UZ627 against their will. They’d hoped to stay on the old station forever. As scientists they were needed on the new frontier, examining new finds in flora and fauna. It put the two aging scientists into a complete, nearly hysterical, frenzy of worry. Violet and her future were all but forgotten.
Chapter Three
Saved, To Die
Ruby Monahan ran the last few feet towards the waiting transport helicopter in a desperate, gut-clenching dash of desperation. Her fiance, Daniel Laseau waited for her there with a some of his squad mates. Hoards of desperate civilians had broken through the military fencing along the landing area and were storming towards the hovering chopper in a mindless mass of panic.
Daniel’s strong arm clasped her smaller one and pulled her up into the hovering chopper’s side opening. Clasping her to him, he rocked her back and forth reassuring her that he had her. That all was well. They were safe.
If only he’d been right. A split second later, he slumped suddenly onto her right shoulder. From the corner of her eye she could no longer see the handsome aquiline nose, brightly blue eyes, or curly sandy-hair. Nothing but chunks of grey matter mixed with a pulp-like mix of bloody purplish-red remained.
Those who could not be saved often turned on the rescuers and fired wildly on them, as though somehow taking further lives would save theirs. It never did and never would. Someone behind her pulled his corpse off her and it was only then that she realized the endless scream adding to the deafening wash of the rotor blades was her own ongoing wail of terror, loss and grief. Blackness swirled and coupled with the exertion and terror of the last few minutes, laid her deeply into grateful oblivion.
When Ruby woke, she had no idea where she was or how long she’d been out. For several minutes she just lay perfectly still, letting awareness rush over her with the force of a tsunami. She felt as though she was glued to the bed with the weight of the world pressing her down. Tears sprang to her gummy, glued-shut eyes, lubricating them enough that she could finally squeeze them open.
Daniel was dead. Shot during the rescue mission that saved her. She barely had time to feel the swaying of the room, clearly a ship at sea, probably the U.S.S. Gerald Ford, Daniel’s home base, before she once again faded into a black hole of unconsciousness.
When she woke again, the rocking had stopped. They were no longer at sea. Where was she? Trying to push herself up onto her elbows, Ruby collapsed once more when the fact of Daniel’s demise washed over her. Wanting only to recede once more into the background of blackness, Ruby batted at the shadow that hovered over her speaking. “Leave me alone,” she mumbled. Slapping at the hands that were trying to reposition her in the bed.
Another shadow joined the first one. “Ruby, wake up,” demanded the impatient and unfriendly sounding male voice. “Wake up and get off your ass. Daniel died saving you. Now get up, make yourself useful and repay his sacrifice!”
Ruby pried open her eyes, took one look at the ugly mug of Daniel’s best friend, Rory Carmichael, and fainted. When she came to again, she was alone. Fumbling for the bed’s controls, Ruby raised the back of the bed as high as she could. Looking around, she could see that she was in a medical bay. Outside the curtained cubicle she occupied, she could see orderlies and nurses rushing back and forth with trays and supplies.
Gamely swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood on wobbly legs. Picking at the tape that held her IV in place, Ruby disconnected her monitors and the saline drip needle, then stumbled into the bathroom in the corner. Quickly urinating and then splashing her face with water, she grimaced at the girl in the mirror. A pale, washed-out, skinny-looking blonde stared back at her.
Taking hold of the plastic toothbrush on the shelf over the sink, Ruby tried to peel off the cellophane wrapper. It was like trying to pry duct-tape off a pipe. Finally, she just bit the wrapper and jerked her head back as hard as she could, popping the end off and then spitting the sliver of hard-plastic wrapper into the wastebasket against the wall. It was bliss to brush her teeth. Her teeth and tongue felt like fur covered blocks of wood. Her hair was a greasy mess.
Sliding into the cubicle, she slid gratefully onto the supportive white-plastic stool and fumbled for the velcro tab at the back of her gown. Finally giving up once again, she just yanked it off over her head grateful that the neck was big enough to allow it. Grasping the hand-shower weakly in one hand, Ruby managed to get the water on to a temperature that wouldn’t burn her, then hosed herself down. Using the shampoo as a body soap as well, she lathered herself from scalp to toe, then rinsed once more.
Dried and wrapped in the skimpy towel, she rummaged through the small closet. Yes! Her clothes were there, laundered and folded. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ruby managed to dress herself. The hardest part was pulling on her boots and managing their side-zip. At last! She was dressed, cleaned and back in the land of the living.
Just the thought of living, almost had her collapsing once more into tears over Daniels death. Pulling herself together, she remembered Rory Carmichael’s words, “Get up off your ass and do something useful in return for his sacrifice.”
She supposed she’d better take Rory up on his demand. She needed to honor Daniel. Ruby had been madly, wildly in love with him. After a string of useless men who didn’t treat her well, Ruby had been without anyone for over five years when she met Daniel Laseau in, of all places, Walmart. By that time she’d completely given up on the idea that there could possibly be a good-looking, kind, but badass sort of guy that would look twice at her. Handsome guys always seemed to be with teenage girls half their age. It was ridiculous.
In Walmart, they’d both been buying bandanas. His for wearing on his motorcycle. Hers for tying around her neck for a cowgirl Halloween costume. There had been instant chemistry. They struck up a conversation and it seemed as if they’d always known each other. He’d texted her later that afternoon and they’d met for drinks. After that, there had been no going back.
They’d been together another five years before over-population and cascading pollution had begun to kill Earth. Daniel had always been in the military and she’d followed him to his posts, able to obtain social work jobs anywhere he went. When the end had come in one final lob of nuclear explosions set off by crazy, self-indulgent world leaders, Daniel had risked everything to get his crew of Army Rangers to fly in and scoop her up. To the last, he’d been her knight in shining armor.
She couldn’t go on in oblivion any longer. He died saving her and she needed to go on in his memory with respect for that sacrifice. How she had loved him! How she missed him! Pushing herself up, Ruby went in search of sustenance and a purpose.
Chapter Four
Purple Shit Hits the Fan
For Violet’s eighteenth birthday she received a solid diatitanium crystal transceiver. These things cost an absolute fortune because you could send and receive signals on them from as far away as any of the known galaxies extended. They were the highest-tech blackmarket good available and hard to come by even for the most connected broker.
Jack had bestowed it on
her with a gruff, “I’ve got one too girl. Yer never too far away ta talk to me. No matter where ya go.” With that, he’d stomped back to his tool bench and clanged some of his equipment with unnecessary force. Violet had been delighted and had run to him and hugged his skinny, knobby torso from the back. Jack had awkwardly patted the small hands gripping his middle with affection.
Two days later, when Jolly Jack walked up the ramp to the cruiser taking him to UZ627, Violet was right behind him. No one was surprised. She’d simply told her parents she had a training seminar at the aerial space repair bay above Uzi and she’d see them there. They’d nodded absently and said in unison, “Have a good time dear. We’re so busy planning…” then wandered off in separate directions to get some vial or sample they needed to pack.
Jack and Violet had been aboard the repair bay for three months when everything went to hell in a handbasket. A whole set of new Intergalactic Guard special troops had come for training with a series of cutting-edge biodynamic combat suits that Jack and his team were fine-tuning the elements on. Violet had been the guinea pig and tried every movement and weapon in the suit. Once, the thermo-skin had malfunctioned and she’d gotten third-degree burns on her shins from the accident. The nanite-infused lining had helped heal that quickly, but crap it had hurt!
So far the new Star Soldiers, as the elite combat units were called, were a complete waste when it came to manning the suits. After the third day of training they were supposed to be ready for a demonstration for the brass. None of the new trainees could even jump in the damn suit. Some could manage to fire the weapons, usually inaccurately. The Major in charge of the demonstration was completely freaking out.
Finally, Jack approached Major Selwood and said, “I got a right handy technician that can run those suits like they were made to ‘er skin. Want ‘er ta do the performance tests at the demonstration for ya?”
“Gawd, yes!” The Major had exclaimed. “Why didn’t you offer earlier? I was about crapping myself worrying about it!” With that he turned his back and stalked off, offended that Jack had saved his bacon, just not as soon as he’d wanted.
That afternoon when the huge crowd from UZ627 had been assembled in the largest bay on the station, there was an enormous buzz of excitement. All sorts of obstacles and challenges had been set up by the Major and now that he had his top-notch operator, he was going to make sure he got the credit for this new technological advance in warfare.
Violet suited up with excitement. She loved running the suits and it was pure adrenaline to get it going, blow things up and let the momentum of the suit carry her sailing across the bay like a monkey on crack.
Forty minutes later, after an explosive display of firepower, mechanical power and elegant maneuvering, Violet landed the suit on one hand from an aerial dive, then hopped the suit up onto her right index finger and ‘moonwalked’ backwards in an air pirouette. Halting, she flipped upright and swept low in a bow to the audience. The spectators went wild with applause.
Jack, in the background, murmured to his crew. “Damn that girl has got flair.” They all nodded agreement. No one was arguing that.
After a round of speeches on the superlative aspects of the suit, its possibilities for the future of warfare, and congratulations to the Major for training such a capable operator, the spectators demanded to see the inside workings of the suit.
Violet punched the buttons that decompressed the suit’s systems and released the nano-armor from her limbs and synapses. That part always hurt a bit, she had to admit. When the crew came forward and gently pulled her from the prototype, the room fell into silence. The saying that ‘you could have heard a pin drop’ didn’t really mean anything to Violet except that her Mom said it sometimes. The only pins Violet knew were fairly large and went into mechanical grooves. They would have made quite a bit of sound. This astonished silence must be what it was, though, ‘cause it was so quiet Violet could hear her heart beating.
The Major, trying to recover from his faux paux of not knowing the operator was a slip of a girl, clapped her on the shoulder and said, “Well, now you know honorable guests, if this little thing can do it, our troops will have no problem.” That brought a smattering of applause. Slowly, Violet sank into the background. You didn’t have to be a Star Soldier to know that her operation of the suit had floored the spectators and not necessarily in a good way for the top brass, though the non-military spectators were charmed.
Violet was much smarter and far more talented than any Star Soldier and she knew she was in deep shit. Desperately, she sought out Jack’s eyes. His eyes met hers with a worried look and a shrug of his knotty shoulders. They’d have to wait and see what was up.
It took two days for the verdict to be put to the crew. Violet was not certified in the program or a member of the Intergalactic Guard, therefore her actions were in direct violation of about three hundred laws. On the one hand, she was a terrific operator of the suit and they wanted her to teach the new cadets how to mimic what she’d done.
On the other hand, she wasn’t qualified or certified to do so. If they praised her for her achievement they’d set a precedent about disregarding authority and regulation. If they penalized her, they wouldn’t have her knowledge and they’d get a washback of negative feeling from the people who had seen the demonstration and been impressed by the young girl.
As Jack explained this to Violet, she could tell that he wasn’t pleased about it at all. “What do they want from me?” she asked uneasily.
“They want you to teach the flyboys how to do what you do. They want you to do that without credit and without earning credits. In exchange for that, they’re gonna give you a little experimental ship and ask you to undertake an exploratory mission to the planet Jun. Which is in the backass of beyond and no one’s ever really been there. Just probes. They’re hoping you’ll get killed and they won’t have to deal with you showing the flyboys up,” Jack growled out the facts, then spit a wad of phlegm onto the ground.
“That’s the truth of it. Jus’ thought you should have it straight,” he added quietly. “Yer parents have given their blessing about the mission to Jun. They think it’s a great honor,” he rasped, with a roll of his eyes, causing his pupils to disappear upwards behind wrinkled lids. “Nut jobs!”
Violet just nodded, then slid down the wall, put her head on her knees and tried not to cry. “I need to think about it, ok?” she asked Jack. “I’m taking a carrier down to the surface. I’ll take a hover-sled out to the salt plains and think about this for a while. Ok?” Violet said, trying to keep her voice from cracking. “What do you think I should do?”
“I think you don’t have much choice,” the old man husked out, his eyes suspiciously bright. “If you don’t do it, they’ll hound you forever. If you do it and succeed, you’ve got ‘em by the balls. I’m banking on you to succeed. Reckon I’ll go with ya, just fer kicks,” Jack stated grimly. “Might as well have a big space-ass adventure before I croak. I’ll see to getting whatever piece of shit they give us to use in as good a condition as possible. Probably be a death trap, if I know bureaucrats,” he added with a grimace of disgust.
Violet grinned weakly at him, “Sounds like an adventure. Nothing I like better than an adventure.” Then she was gone, slipping long the opening of the support mast into the lower reaches of the hangar to catch the departing carrier for the planet.
Three weeks later, they burned off the aerial hangar and departed UZ627’s atmosphere. They were departing a month early so that Violet would be unavailable to teach the new recruits how to use the combat suits. That was the one thing she just wouldn’t agree to.
On board the rickety sloop they’d been given were Violet, Jolly Jack Dughurst and two of the older crew members of Jack’s team. They’d wanted an adventure too and as Violet knew without them saying, if they died, they’d die having one badass adventure to an uncharted planet.
Jack had programmed in the coordinates for Jun and fired them out of Uzi’s atmos
phere without looking back. Turning to Violet, he said, “Thought we’d stop at that outpost called Zabados 9 and then the platform Delta 3 an’ see if we can’t buy some upgrades fer our little pile of shite on the black markets there. What’d ya think?”
Violet grinned with the first signs of pleasure for the last few weeks. “What did you stow away? Something good to trade? What is it? Wine from Uzi?” she asked, her curiosity getting the best of her.
“You jus’ wait an’ see my girl,” Jack said with a wink. “It’ll knock yer socks off.”
“I’m delighted that we’ll be able to get some upgrades for this thing,” Violet said, patting the worn armrest of her seat. “We’ve got to come up with a name for her. Poor thing is nameless and unwanted. Once we get some upgrades on her, she’ll be something worth having. She’s got potential, this one. Let’s go get some good stuff to doll her up with! I’ll make a list,” she said, bounding from her seat with the first enthusiasm she’d shown since the demonstration fallout.