Energize (From the Logs of Daniel Quinn Book 1)

by Thomas R. Manning

  “His name is Tress,” the man said, his hand gesturing toward the alien beside him. “And my name is Damon Derringer. Tress’s planet is within the same solar system as mine, Captain Quinn. I enlisted his services to help locate you. It would seem that I made the right call.” He gave the young alien’s back a large pat. His hands, however, trembled. The alarms in my head, my uncomfortable stomach, they all indicated something was wrong here, and I’d be damned if someone tried to make a fool out of me.

  I eased my revolver from its holster, lifted it above the table, and pointed it at Derringer.

  “Captain! What are you doing? I’m not here for trouble!” He practically spit out the words as he raised his hands.

  “I don’t really care who you are,” I said with agitated roughness. “The fact that the two of you know who I am makes me nervous and I don’t like being nervous.”

  “Please, sir—”

  “Shut up.” I kept my composure calm. If things escalated, I wanted to maintain control. “The last time a strange man joined me at a table it resulted in a few near-death experiences and he almost enslaved an entire alien race. So here’s what we’re going to do. Get up and get out of my sight before I count to three and pull the trigger.”

  “Captain!” he yelled as I counted to one. “I know about what happened on Dawn! That’s partially why I’m here!”

  “Two,” I growled. Damon backed away to the door.

  “Please, sir! Just let me explain! I am here for your help!”

  A high intensity plasma beam burned straight through Damon’s midsection and passed within inches of Tress. A smoking black hole was scorched into the wall of the bistro. Damon didn’t get a chance to react. One second he lived and pleaded for his life and the next he fell onto the table, dead.

  I never counted to three. I didn’t fire my weapon. The target reticle in my eye scanned behind Damon’s last position where a hole had been burned through the door.

  Tress dropped to the floor squealing as I jumped behind a table for cover. My hands gripped the revolver hard as I kept myself low to avoid the additional shots, but none came. I risked a glance to the side, but no one attempted to fire on me.

  Seconds later, energy shields activated and dropped from the window and door frames. We were locked in and, even better, the killer was locked out.

  The Karthans don’t take well to killing, especially when an off-worlder does it. The planet’s surveillance system was advanced by my standards. An electronic security web runs down from the dock to the town and everything is under the scope of a camera. Whoever shot Damon Derringer, it’s likely the Karthans are pursuing him now.

  With the blast shields activated, I felt safe enough to stand and take stock of the situation. The weight of Damon’s body on the table caused it to topple during the lockdown and he was now on his back, facing the ceiling. The wound in his chest smoked and smelled like charred meat. It had been cauterized from the plasma. Tress stood beside me and stared at the recently deceased.

  “Is he gone?” he asked.

  In reply, I shoved him against a wall with my forearm and pushed my gun under his jaw. His hands flailed and smacked my arm and the wall, but I was stronger. His mouth trembled and his eyes shifted color to a shade of indigo, which announced his fear.

  “Enough! What do you want with me?” I asked. The revolver’s chamber spun and charged its plasma round. The weapon was lighter and more compact than my multi-chamber rifle, which I destroyed some time ago. I’d spent months building the new one. Well, no, that’s a lie. Technically, I built it but my advanced artificial intelligence on my ship, the Kestrel Belle, instructed me.

  “Please,” he muttered. “Please, please… don’t kill me! We came here to talk to you!”

  “Right.” I growled. “Talk. Except your buddy down there has a hole blown through him so the time for talking is over.”

  “I don’t know anything about that! I don’t know why he was shot! Please! I don’t want to die!” The alien, no older than a teenager, cried out hysterically. The indigo in his eyes glowed brighter and radiated a neon kind of intensity. My conscience overpowered my survival instinct at that point and I eased off Tress.

  There was a time when I couldn’t hurt a bug, let alone another humanoid, but after the events on the planet I named Dawn, I wasn’t sure what kind of person I was anymore. I killed men on that planet and now I was nearly ready to kill Tress.

  Get a grip Daniel, I thought.

  A loud humming emanated from behind the bar across the room. A small, square-shaped droid hovered toward our position. At the top of the cube a bright read beam scanned Damon Derringer.

  “Human. Dead,” it said in perfect English. Behind the robotic voice and static, I heard another voice with intonations native to the Karthan language. These carrier droids were controlled by operators and worked as translators for other alien races, which was impressive. It turned and scanned us.

  “Human. Restra. Elevated heart rates and minor scratches, but no critical injuries detected. Do you require assistance?”

  “Just finish my payment so I can get off this rock,” I said while moving to a table with a little less Damon on it. The droid lingered, but when Tress didn’t say anything it returned to its point of origin behind the bar.

  Tress reluctantly joined me at my table, his hands entangled in one another and shoulders hunched. He never took his eyes off of Damon.

  “So, you’re not going to do anything?” His voice was soft.

  I shrugged. “If you don’t have any idea what Damon wanted me for, then it’s none of my concern.”

  The words felt foreign as they left my mouth. I was jarred by the murder of another human being who seemed harmless. I wanted to stay off the radar as best I could, but the knowledge he had of me and my past left me wondering what he wanted. Of course, that answer died with him.

  “He wanted your help” Tress said. “He said you could save lives . . . that you are a hero.”

  I laughed. I never thought of myself as a hero. A hero saves lives, sacrifices his needs over others. Was I a hero when I saved Captain Gregory Smithson’s life on the Echelon? If I didn’t act, Sarah King wouldn’t only have taken the ship, but also his life and the artificial intelligence program. But in the end, the captain and I fled. King still got the ship, killed people, and even used my best friend Jason Hobbes as a cyborg experiment.

  Was I a hero when I saved the Dawnians? It was my fault they were discovered in the first place. Sarah King and Raymond Erebos had the information on its location, but they would have needed months, maybe years to translate it all. I found it and tried to sell it and that led them to the most powerful energy source in the galaxy. How did I save the Dawnians? I blew up their processing facility and destroyed their technology, which was their only method for harvesting the powerful energy that powered their technology and their lives. King and Erebos didn’t get it, but now no one could.

  Hero was the last title I’d give to myself. If anything, I’m just a guy who gets in over his head and has to make up for it later.

  The droid’s buzzing sound returned. It hovered toward me.

  “Is my payment complete?” I asked.

  “We would like to negotiate the terms of your contract, Captain,” the voice said.

  “No, absolutely not,” I replied. “We agreed the price on the contents I delivered—$575,000. I am not lowering it.”

  “Nor are we. In fact, we would like to double the amount.”

  It felt as if my jaw dropped to the floor. With more than a million dollars I could refit the Kestrel Belle, get her engine replaced, strengthen the hull, and more. But the Karthans weren’t just offering that money freely. No one ever did, especially not after an establishment was damaged with me in it.

  “What are your new terms?”

  “The murderer of your fellow human has proven difficult to apprehend. We would like to hire your services.”

  “Why me?” I asked, interested in the
offer, but curious about why they weren’t looking elsewhere. Smuggling items was the best use of my mercenary talents. I sorely lacked skill in the bounty hunter department.

  “You are the only other human on this planet, which makes you somewhat responsible for this situation. Our security droids have been unsuccessful up to this point and we feel a sentient life form above the ground may benefit our efforts.”

  “Wait a second, how the hell am I responsible for this? This man came to me. I was here first. It’s not my fault he got himself shot.”

  “Those are our rules Captain,” it replied. “Visiting species on our planet are responsible for their own kind.”

  “Well, all you had to say was please,” I said with a sarcastic tone. I guess I should be glad Damon died in front of me and not on the other side of the planet. In truth, I could really use the money, but did I really want to go up against Damon’s murderer? Was he killed for talking to me? And if so, why? What information did he intend to give me before his death?

  If Damon was murdered for talking to me, that meant I was already involved somehow. All I could do at this point was speculate, but it nagged at me—Did the killer have the same information on me that Damon did? He might have shot me after all, but missed his opportunity when the barriers dropped over the bistro. Right now I was safe in the sanctuary of a protected building, but what about after?

  “What can you tell me about the murderer?” I asked.

  “Leondren male,” the droid said. “We estimate his height at seven feet tall. Weight unknown. He is currently advancing to the docking gate and carrying a briefcase that likely holds the weapon responsible for the murder of the human.”

  Leondren. I heard that name before, likely from researching the alien database with Al on the Belle. I couldn’t picture them or recall their capabilities, but he was obviously a skilled marksmen. He managed to accomplish a precise kill shot from outside the bistro without collateral damage.

  “Is it just one Leondren?” I asked.

  “Affirmative.”

  There was considerable danger going after the killer, but it could be worth it for the payout. Money wasn’t everything to me, but at the same time it made the starships go around the galaxy.

  “Alright, I’ll agree to your terms,” I said, pushing my thumb to a print scan on the droid. “I’ll make an attempt to apprehend this Leondren, but if I find my life at risk I have the option to pull out and receive my original payment.”

  “Agreed, Captain,” the droid said. The entrance’s barrier deactivated. I stood and moved forward with my revolver still in hand, the plasma charged and ready to fire. I turned back to Tress, who sat there silently the whole time; his eyes still the same fearful color.

  “You stay here. If you’re associated with Derringer, then you may be target as well.”

  His eyes glowed, but he nodded at me.

  “Be aware, human Quinn, you are advancing into danger,” the droid warned.

  “Yeah, don’t I always,” I muttered.

  I ran for the dock. The town looked to be deserted. The buildings were covered in light brown sand and metal barriers covered all the windows and doors. I ran past domed buildings, ones that ended in sharp points, some square, and others circular. Each building was designed with the idea of familiarity and comfort to any visiting species. The bistro I dined in before things got tense, was constructed when the first human scheduled a visit to Karth. The actual surface of planet was a desert—all sand and rock. There may have been plant life, maybe something reminiscent of cacti on Earth, but none within view. The biggest problem for me was the humid weather and bright sunlight, which left me sweating and panting after about a hundred steps. I’m in pretty good shape, but the heavy atmosphere from the gases surrounding the planet caused my lungs to argue with me. I imagined them saying, ‘this is why you should carry an oxygen mask with you’. My body begged me to stop and rest, but I pushed harder.

  I saw bodies when I was about halfway to the docks. They weren’t humanoid or alien—they were the security droids, all of them scattered on the ground. Claw marks covered their metallic bodies and wires hung from limbs. I couldn’t guess how many of them were there. Plasma burns striped the ground, but not the droids. Using my bionic eye I scanned over the area. The plasma fire was consistent with the type of rifle the droids were equipped with. Could the killer seriously tear these machines apart that easily, alone, through those blasts? I continued with caution.

  By the time I reached the large, grey walls separating the town from the starships, my clothes were damp with sweat, which also burned my eyes. A crowd of aliens were pounding and screaming on the sealed doors. I couldn’t recognize most of the aliens by their appearances. A few of them were half my size with silver spiky hair and long arms hanging down to the ground. A handful of others wore thick white robes that covered their entire bodies, but their bare feet looked soft and round, almost like a suction cup. Their fingers ended in the same shape. I also caught glimpses of a family—two adults and child, their skin light brown and textured with lines crossing over each other. A Karthan announcement repeated over the loud speaker. The aliens must have been outside the buildings before the security measures had activated. I couldn’t translate the entire announcement through all the noise, but it basically said the doors were sealed due to criminal action on the planet.

  This was a lost cause. Even using my bionic eye I could detect dozens of different weapon signatures. I dropped to the ground, exhausted from the thick air and frustrated at the sight in front of me. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do next.

  “They all swarm the gates like insects, don’t they?” A deep, raspy voice startled me.

  I jumped to my feet and spun to find a . . . well . . . a lion. He looked enough like one, except he stood on two feet like a human would. A radiant brown mane surrounded his head and his flat, wide nose ended in triangular nostrils. We stared at each other and goose bumps crawled up my arms and legs when his humanoid round eyes contracted into slits, the irises colored gold. He produced a sly smile that showed white teeth formed into sharp points. He wore form fitting armor the color of dull silver. Held at his side was the long, metallic case the Karthan droid mentioned.

  “For a Leondren, you speak English well enough,” I said. I felt my heart beat against my chest a little faster, but I remained outwardly calm. He bowed to me.

  “I am humbled by your knowledge of my race.”

  We both assessed each other. Every second that passed, the crowd at the doors grew louder. My fingers twitched and the hand around my gun tightened its hold. My legs argued for movement, but I forced myself to stay still.

  “So . . . are you looking to get off this rock like the rest of the . . . what did you call them . . . insects?”

  “I am. My job here has been completed,” he replied. His composure was calm, his smile warm and welcome. It made my stomach churn.

  “And that job was? Do you mind me asking?”

  “I do not,” he said. “I am proficient in silencing individuals who step over their bounds.” He talked as if he were boasting about his job. The hairs on the back of my neck stood erect. Despite the Karthans hiring me to apprehend him, the Leondren seemed conversational. Why not push the discussion further?

  “You’re an assassin,” I suggested.

  “I suppose your kind would give it that title, yes.”

  His composure, his mane hovering in the soft wind, he looked like he could crush a stone in the palm of his hand. Would I even have time to raise my revolver? I could only assume that the Karthans were sending more security forces this way so maybe I just needed to keep him busy until then.

  “You silence people, even when they’re defenseless? Can you justify murder when a man’s back is turned?”

  “When the price is right, I can justify anything,” he said, a soft purr emanating from his throat. His voice was cold as if he didn’t care for anyone. I swallowed hard but tried to look calm.

&
nbsp; “What’s your name?” I asked him.

  “Granak,” he replied. “And I already know your name, Daniel Quinn.”

  That didn’t surprise me.

  “Well, Granak, what happens next? Your contract here is done. I know you killed Damon Derringer, but what about me? How do I fit into all this?”

  To my surprise, Granak laughed.

  “I will not be killing you, Daniel Quinn. At least, not yet.” He turned toward the crowd and walked away from me.

  That was it? Not yet?

  I pointed my revolver at his back.

  “Granak! You aren’t going anywhere. Stop right there or I’ll open fire.”

  He stopped and looked over his shoulder at me, the smile on his face never faltering. He regarded me, then the crowd of aliens at the dock.

  “If you miss your mark, Captain, you’ll kill one of these helpless insects.”

  I hesitated. That was all the time he needed. Granak reached into his pocket and pulled out some kind of mechanical sphere. My bionic eye acted instinctively and scanned it. A sonic detonator.

  I fired a direct plasma blast, thinking I could hit him before he threw it, but he let go as the shot hit him in the upper back. I watched as the sphere traveled toward the crowd. My breath stuck in my throat. They were all about to die. Maybe there was no hope, but that didn’t stop me from screaming at them.

  “Everybody down! Detonator!”

  The device exploded just before making impact. A violent shockwave erupted from the source of the explosion, hitting me like a shuttlecraft. My eye flashed static, my eardrums blew out, and it felt like all oxygen was forced out of me, my lungs and body burning with the need for air. The ground came up and hit me. I couldn’t hear a damn thing except a high pitch ringing and when I touched my ears I felt blood. I opened my human eye, though blurry, and watched as Granak walked through the aftermath. He stepped on bodies or what was left of them as he strode toward his escape, his hulking mass taking his time and surveying his work.