2 Change in Management

by RJ Johnson

  He looked down at his ArmBar and saw that there was still a few seconds left on the download and format. He still needed to buy a little bit more time.

  He jostled the box in front of him and he could hear various alcohol jars clinking against each other. Meade ducking under the heavy fire, grabbed two jars of alcohol. He opened one and smelled it, taking a sip. He grimaced and nodded. This would do nicely.

  He opened his jacket and ripped a portion of his checkered cotton shirt. He placed one end of the fuse in the jar and left the other end hanging haphazardly out the other end. He aimed his ArmBar at the rag and fired, the heat from the laser lighting the rag on fire. He could hear the men and women scrambling around the poker table hoping they could flank him and stop his assault.

  His ArmBar chirped announcing that the download was complete. Meade lit the cotton fuse on fire and tossed the jar. It landed on the other side of the room, exploding in a haze of white heat.

  Meade covered his face, shielding it from the flames. He could hear screams of whoever it was he had hit. The smell of burning flesh filled the room along with smoke from the fire that had erupted inside the room. Meade took his chance to get moving.

  Meade threw open the door and hurried down the hallway, nearly bowling over Tim Russo, his green fluorescent hat flying off his head.

  “Sorry ‘bout that!” Meade called back. Even on the run, it couldn’t hurt to be polite.

  The sound of a dozen ArmBars firing at him followed Meade through the corridor and he got up dodging the heavy fire. Perhaps he’d put the manners on hold until people stopped shooting at him.

  Chapter Five

  Several bolts of energy flew over Meade’s head as he ran through the hallway towards what he hoped was the main entrance to Laszlo’s casino. Chunks of rock and grit flew off the side of the hallway as Meade dodged and weaved his way through the labyrinth back to the front door and freedom.

  Laszlo, Hugh and two of his other poker companions burst out of the private room, coughing. Laszlo held a handkerchief over his face, hoping to avoid the smoke.

  “Kill him!” Laszlo screamed. “I want that man dead!”

  Meade stopped for a moment and lit the second jar of grain alcohol in his hand. He paused, waiting for his pursuers to get a little closer.

  “Hey Laszlo,” Meade called down the tunnel. “Any chance we could still work out that payment plan?”

  Meade was rewarded with the sound of gauss rifles firing at him and he ducked behind the corner. They had broken out the heavy duty firepower. He must have really pissed Laszlo off.

  “Welp, couldn’t hurt to ask.”

  Meade chucked the second jar and was rewarded by the explosion behind him. Using the fire and smoke to cover his exit, Meade burst out onto the casino floor.

  Roxanne looked up at him and he saluted the redheaded vixen. She smiled, and he began running for the door as Laszlo, Hugh and his security burst out the door behind him.

  “Ten thousand credits to the man who captures that Runabout!” Laszlo bellowed. The moles looked up and around at each other in confusion, unsure who he was referring to.

  Meade didn’t give them any time to figure it out. He fled through the casino as shots rang out all around him.

  Exiting the front door, Meade could see security milling about looking for whoever Laszlo had indicated was a threat. One of Laszlo’s private security spotted Meade and shouted. Meade shook his head and pushed a button on his ArmBar.

  A tiny motorcycle like contraption melted out of the stone face of the Lady Luck Casino. Meade jumped on the bike, quickly typing on the input to the flying motorcycle. Normally, the AI of the Aerocycle would ask him what destination he had in mind would automatically take him to there by the shortest route possible, but Meade didn’t have time for the computer onboard to make all his decisions.

  He typed quickly and was rewarded by a chiming noise as his ArmBar hacked into the NavMax computer and allowed him to take over operation of the flying motorcycle.

  Hugh burst out of the Lady Luck Casino firing at Meade with his Coalition issued sidearm. Meade ducked and barely avoided having his head taken off by a gauss round. The harness extended out of the seat and secured Meade to the vehicle. He gunned the engine and the twin ion jets behind the Aerocycle roared as he took off from the surface.

  Two Coalition MPs who had been standing next to the casino door were quickly shanghaied by Hugh and Laszlo and they jumped on their powerful Aerocycles to give chase after him. Meade didn’t dare to look back. If the Coalition was on his tail, he’d have to move quick if he wanted to survive.

  Meade rolled the Aerocycle up and over the city, looking down at the traffic below. The sky was filled with hundreds of people all in their own version of the Aerocycles – some larger than others. He looked down below him to see a cadre of new Coalition MPs giving chase, their menacing gauss rifle barrels sticking out the front of their Coalition craft.

  High powered rounds whined overhead as Meade cursed as he glanced around to find the source of the gunfire. That’s when he saw how much trouble he was really in.

  A few Coalition MPs on Aerocycles - that he might’ve been able to handle. However, that wasn’t what was shooting at him now. Dozens of Coalition Drones began melting out of the canyon walls, and all of them began to give chase after him.

  He cursed and pushed the throttle as hard as he dared. The drones were an auto defense mechanism called forth by the Coalition MPs giving chase after him. They had likely scanned his craft and uploaded it into the drone’s targeting software minutes after the chase began.

  Each drone was capable of firing and killing whatever their programmed target was. They were not elegant machines – their artificial intelligence was not exactly the most advanced stuff in the world – but they were deadly. Their twin gauss rifles fired at rate of over thirty rounds per second and each were equipped with a complement of hellfire missiles. The Coalition officers following Meade backed off in order to let the drones do what they did best - hunt and kill their targets.

  His eyes widened and he abandoned his plan to try and lose the Coalition MPs in the sky above New Plymouth.

  He pushed the Aerocycle down into the heavy traffic of New Plymouth and began dodging other people’s Aerocycles left and right. At that point, he wasn’t entirely sure which was more dangerous – the autonomous killing machines, or the terrible drivers of New Plymouth. Although, Meade considered, his driving the wrong way in a skylane wasn’t exactly the other commuters’ fault.

  The heavy traffic did not discourage the machines however as they flew into the traffic attempting to dodge the oncoming vehicles. Some of the machines were unable to adjust their proximity sensors fast enough as two slammed directly into a large and slow moving ORI hauler coming the opposite way.

  Meade looked back to see that the driver had bailed out in time, but his ORI hauler was no more. It tumbled and turned, slamming into the red dirt below into an impressive burst of flame and heat.

  The machines wouldn’t stop tracking him unless he could somehow change the signature of his Aerocycle. He pushed the Aerocycle down towards the wrecked ORI hauler and drove through the smoke and flames.

  He felt the heat of the explosion surround him and he drew his duster jacket close, covering his face from the flames and heat. The jacket was well-designed to protect its owner from many of the brutal conditions a man might find himself in on the Martian surface. The leather was tough and blocked the high temperatures of the blast, protecting him nicely from the flames that surrounded him.

  A missile streaked past his head, nearly taking it off and Meade pulled back on the Aerocycle, yanking his vehicle out of the way. The missile slammed into the rock exploding as chunks of debris rained all over his hat.

  Meade throttled the engine back up and got himself clear of the ruined ORI hauler below. The smoke had covered his jacket with a fine black and red dust and his Aerocycle was streaked with chipped and melted paint.

&
nbsp; “Sorry ‘bout that,” he muttered to the Aerocycle underneath him. “Just need you to survive a bit longer.”

  The Aerocycle bobbed and weaved through the traffic as the deadly Coalition drones followed, still hot on his tail. Meade was beginning to feel frustrated and a trickle of fear began bubbling up his throat. He swallowed it back and turned the Aerocycle down a narrow alleyway, carved within the canyon walls.

  One drone couldn’t quite make the turn quick enough and it slammed into the side of the canyon walls exploding. Another was caught in the exploding drones’ wake and it too clipped the side of the walls shearing one of its wings clear off. It fell to the ground, but not before it released a hellfire missile that exploded only inches away from one of Meade’s ion engines.

  Meade felt the Aerocycle underneath him yank to the left. He struggled with the controls holding them all the way to the right, most of his maneuverability was gone – which really wasn’t good within the tight confined space of the alleyway he was in. He looked below at the busy marketplace where hundreds of people were shopping for their evening meals, most of whom completely unaware of his aerobatic antics.

  He glanced behind and saw that two Drones had managed to follow and were now drawing close, attempting to get a bead on him and his aerocycle. He moved his yoke up, gaining and losing altitude to try and avoid the gauss rounds that sparked and exploded all around. He swallowed the panic and decided that this needed to end now.

  Meade yanked back on the controls, his aerocycle climbing high into the Martian sky. The drones wouldn’t dare fire on the Lid that protected New Plymouth and provided the standard temperature and pressure that the colonists would have on Earth. If he flew close enough to it, he should be able to buy some time.

  He was right - the drones quit firing on him as they climbed closer to the Lid. The AIs were preventing the firing solution they had on Meade from an accidental miss, if one of the Drones gauss rounds penetrated the Lid, the whole colony would be in for a really bad day. The only problem was, the Lid was fast approaching and Meade didn’t have a clue as to what he would do when he ran out of room.

  “Fuck it,” Meade said to himself. He threw the engine into gear pushing the damaged Aerocycle harder up into the sky. The Lid was only a few hundred feet away from him now. Whatever he was going to do, he needed to do it quick.

  He reached behind him and grasped until he found what he was looking for. Every Aerocycle’s quick release had a parachute built into the harness. He struggled with the key and yanked.

  The Aerocycle underneath him jerked quickly to the left after Meade let go of the controls. He felt himself falling as gravity reclaimed his body. The parachute opened and Meade felt his whole body yank as it unfurled, arresting his momentum.

  The first drone following Meade couldn’t peel off in time and crashed spectacularly into Meade’s renegade Aerocycle. Meade didn’t have a second to celebrate his victory over the machine when he felt his parachute yank to the right.

  The last remaining drone hadn’t been able to steer away in time and got caught up in Meade’s parachute. He felt himself heave forward as the drone began towing him through the New Plymouth sky. He winced as his injuries from the night before complained mightily about the treatment his body was receiving.

  Meade grabbed the cables connecting his parachute and began to climb towards the fast moving drone. They were losing altitude quickly, as the Drone was attempting to return back to its charging station. They fell from a thousand feet in the air to near the ground in less than a minute. Meade looked forward to see the drone taking them towards the marketplace, skimming low over the rooftops of the shops below his feet.

  He pulled himself up mightily and yanked his feet up just before they crashed into a roof. He looked up, and decided that it was time to get off this crazy ride.

  He reached for his ArmBar and struggled. The cables attached to the parachute had trapped his arm in tangled web making it nearly impossible to cut himself free with the laser app on his ArmBar.

  Meade was now only a few dozen feet above the crowded marketplace again, but this time people were looking up at him and the drone hauling him around in awe. He ignored the shouts and put everything he had into untangling the web of cables.

  He looked up to see the drone heading for a recharge slot where it could be automatically repaired. He needed to cut those cables now before he ended up a smear on the canyon walls.

  He freed his ArmBar and typed quickly opening up the laser application. He fired two quick bursts and the laser cut through the cables that secured him to the parachute efficiently and suddenly Meade was tumbling through the air and freefalling down towards the Martian ground.

  Meade crashed through the canvas roof of some unfortunate shop owner and he rolled through the store hoping to cushion some of the fall. He tumbled through, hitting his head, and slamming his shoulder into the door, cracking the frame. He came to a rest in the street and saw a luxury Aerocycle limousine coming right for him. Meade was too tired and too broken to move in time so he shut his eyes, hoping the end would be quick.

  Instead, the sound of screeching brakes was all he heard as the luxury Aerocycle come to rest mere inches away from his head. Meade opened his eyes and looked up in relief thanking whatever Gods had seen fit to spare him for another day.

  The trauma of hitting his head during his landing had taken its toll on him and Meade’s body decided that now was the perfect time for a nap. The location may not have been ideal, but the middle of the street was as good as any place to collapse after nearly escaping with your life.

  And for just one moment right before he passed out, he swore he saw the pencil thin outline of Palmetto, but Meade passed that off as brain damage. Fate wouldn’t be that much of a bastard to him, would it?

  Chapter Six

  Meade woke with a funny taste in his mouth. He always hated getting up early – especially on days when he didn’t have to. However, the real world would not be denied and he slowly regained consciousness. He felt pain running through his body and he groaned, remembering the chase through the marketplace which had probably taken a higher toll on his body that he wanted to admit.

  As the room came into focus, he realized that he wasn’t at home recovering in bed, but rather in a strange office, lying on a couch which had seen better days and more than its share of stains.

  Meade coughed painfully and felt his ribs gingerly. Whatever bones he had broken during his fight with Chau, had obviously been hurt again. He’d need another round with the blastercasts that injected tiny nanoparticles which mended broken bones within hours. But, they didn’t do you any good when you did your best to break your bones all over again within twenty-four hours.

  Meade felt for his ArmBar and was alarmed to find it missing. He stood and looked around the room. It was a small office, with only a desk, table, couch and chair. The walls were the red rock, meaning he was deep inside the canyon walls somewhere. There were no posters, no art, no windows. It may as well have been a prison for all Meade could tell.

  The door opened and Palmetto walked through. Meade’s eyes narrowed.

  “What the fuck Palmetto?” Meade demanded, “Where’s my ArmBar?”

  Palmetto cocked his head, and said nothing to Meade. He sat down at the desk and examined him closely.

  “Where am I?” Meade demanded. “What have you done with my ArmBar? So help me…”

  “Do you really believe you are in any sort of position to make demands Mr. Meade?” Palmetto’s voice was soft and without emotion.

  “I think I’m about to start taking you apart to find my ArmBar if you don’t give it back on the immediate.” Meade said, his voice threatening. “Or else…”

  “Or else what?” Palmetto asked. “Can you even appreciate the kind of situation you’ve found yourself in?”

  “I appreciate things just fine Palmetto. What I’d like is my things and directions out of here.”

  Palmetto allowed a slight smile t
o cross his face and he nodded. “I’d be happy to return your belongings, but I must insist that you and I have a conversation.”

  “About what?” Meade fumed. “We’ve already been down the ‘I ain’t working for scum like you’ road. Can’t really see what else we might have to talk about. Besides, I’m busy.”

  Palmetto nodded thoughtfully. He pushed a button and a viewscreen lit up on the opposite wall. On it, Meade’s adventurous chase through the Martian Marketplace was the top story on the news channel.

  “Your exploits have made you something of a celebrity Mr. Meade,” Palmetto said.

  Meade read the crawling chyron underneath the pictures of crying witnesses and destroyed storefronts as a result of the drones chasing him, his eyes widened in shock.

  “Turn up the volume,” Meade snapped, and Palmetto obliged.

  The crying witness was sobbing to a sympathetic reporter who was recording their exchange, “I haven’t even found my boy yet… I’m afraid he got lost during the mayhem from that BRUTE.” She sobbed again and Meade rolled his eyes.

  “The man on the Aerocycle didn’t care about anyone. All he did was shoot at anything that moved, I couldn’t believe what I was watching, it was as if the man was…” she paused, allowing the weight of her next words sink in with the viewers, “as if he was on a mission to kill anyone who saw his face. But I’ll never forget that face, that cruel, unyielding monster…”

  The woman buried her face into her husband’s shoulder as he stoically patted her on the back. The camera turned back to the blonde reporter as she looked grimly into the camera’s eye.

  “A scene of devastation that has not been witnessed on New Plymouth since the Last War, the crazed antics of the runabout James Meade are bringing back painful memories for those who survived the last incursion of uncivilized Runabouts. The Coalition authority has released Mr. Meade’s file, hoping that the material contained within may help convince some brave citizen to step forward and provide information that leads to the capture and arrest of the biggest drug kingpin in Martian history.”