Raw Justice

by Martyn J. Pass

  I slammed my pistol into its holster and ran for the corpses barely visible under the rubble. Clearing away some of the debris I found both of the Dingos plus a couple of magazines. I slung them, checking the life signs of the civilians beneath. Dead. A man and a woman. Just targets, I told myself. Collateral damage.

  “Man down!” cried Mason and I turned, seeing Thor grappling with the last attacker on the opposite sidewalk but dropping now to his knees. The synthetic had his hands on his neck, tearing away the conduit and servo arms. I brought up both Dingos, thumbed the cell recharge and sped towards him. He turned just in time to see both guns open up, filling the space between us with shards of red light until his face vanished in a splatter of cooling fluids.

  The bot collapsed where he was, his mechanics finally giving out. His damaged head slammed onto the stone and gave a ghastly electronic screech.

  “Don't go dying on me!” I bellowed over the rising wail of police sirens now close to our position. “Eject your CPU you stupid pile of junk!”

  I pushed hard against the bot's shoulders, turning it over onto its back with no small effort. As I did so, his chest cavity collapsed inwards, exposing a glowing square of translucent metal that pulsed with power. From its center a tube perhaps the size of my forearm slid out and I took it, stuffing it into my belt. It was almost too hot to touch.

  I rammed the cube back inside, jamming open the cavity to ensure that the self-destruct mechanism would activate. Then, speeding back to Mason, I shouted into his ear.

  “FIRE IN THE HOLE!”

  We ducked and ran, pulling back from where we'd been until we were clear of the explosion that came hot on our heels. By now the street was empty and only the idling cabs and the windows of several stores bore the brunt of the explosion, sending concussive ripples out in all directions. It gave us breathing space, enough time to run some of the way towards the landing pad before our pursuers caught up.

  “Mozzy, take the left,” I said, tossing him one of the Dingos and a fresh clip. “Mason, go down the middle and take cover by the column.”

  I looked up. Three bulging craft were now hovering overhead like buzzing insects fat with blood. They were lit up in blue and white and red and belly-mounted laser cannons began stitching the ground with fire as they disgorged their cargo.

  “Shock Squad!” cried Mozzy. “We're screwed, man!”

  “Hold positions!” I shouted over the bullhorn, telling everyone to stand still and drop weapons. Suffice it to say, we didn't comply.

  On came the Death Squad, now strengthened by four more identical attackers who didn't even pause in their stride for the Sargon PD or the spider-like robots who were now forming battle lines in the street. Six turned to face us while twelve more began moving along, directly towards the faceless enemy.

  I opened fire first. One of the spiders dropped straight away, another managed to get off a couple of shots before I was able to take off its head. Mason destroyed two more and Mozzy, after smashing the one nearest to him with a volley found himself swinging the butt of the gun like a club to ward off the last. Clearly, they'd been programmed to take us alive at any cost. Arms fitted with restraint clamps came spiraling towards him from all directions until he could pull back far enough to blast it to pieces.

  “Fall back!” I shouted. Mason covered me as I sped past him, taking up a position maybe six cars back. Mozzy followed, stopping shorter and shouting the retreat to Mason who did the same. We managed to peel back twice more, now almost within sight of the landing pad, until more robots were dropped in behind us.

  “On our twelve!” I roared, emptying my clip into three of the bots. Then I felt a shot cut through the air beside me, burning a hole through the collar of my coat. Behind us five of the Death Squad had managed to overcome the robots and were now advancing on us.

  “Mason, cover our six,” I said. “Mozzy, with me.”

  Together the former soldier and I strode out of cover and advanced, firing as we went, smashing apart another six of the spiders until we were forced back into cover. It worked; the landing pad entrance was just up ahead and we'd gained some serious ground.

  “Mason, pull back!” I cried. “We've got you.”

  We turned and began firing in controlled bursts as he ran towards us, head down. Fire followed him, blasting through the tail of his coat as he went but he made it to an empty cab and set his cannon upon its hood.

  “I'm nearly out,” said Mozzy. I looked at my own cells. One more mag left. I handed it to him.

  “Make it count,” I said. Then, looking ahead, I saw another PD craft settle in the middle of the road. This time it opened its rear compartment and several bulky looking exo-shells emerged, rifles in hand. My heart sank. Mozzy let out a string of expletives.

  “What do we do now?” asked Mason as he let off two more blasts.

  “Hell if I know,” I said. Then, like a call from heaven itself, my comms unit came to life.

  “Carter! Run for the landing pad. Don't stop!” It was Eldritch and when I looked up I saw him in the doorway, gesturing for me to come. “I called in a few favors.”

  “You're a bloody miracle in human flesh!” I laughed. Then, to the others. “PULL BACK!”

  We ditched the spent weapons and ran like the devil was on our heels, which some might argue, he was. We passed the hulking exo-shells who ignored us and began to open fire on the last of the Death Squad. I turned back just in time to see them advance, unafraid of the heavy armor coming towards them, bent only on their mission which was now about to get off-world. We made it inside, blinded by the bright interior where Malcolm Eldritch stood, flanked by two uniforms carrying scatter lasers.

  “Thanks for shooting up our streets,” he smirked. “Now get the hell off Sargon.” I was about to say something but he waved me away. “It's been a hell of a day, right?”

  “You're telling me. Goodbye again, Malcolm.”

  “Goodbye, Carter. I hope your friend makes it out okay.” Then, to Mozzy, he said. “Well?”

  He handed him a cube and the disc I'd taken from one of the soldiers. “That's everything I know, my word on that.”

  “It'll make you a hunted man,” said Eldritch. Mozzy shrugged.

  “No one will be seeing me again, I can promise you that. Thanks, Cop.”

  Eldritch tipped his head, then gestured for us to move along. We did so and, looking back, I saw him smiling like a man who'd found a sliver of excitement in a world he'd thought was all too dull.

  19

  In the shuttle, the stench of ozone and hot metal followed us all the way to Theta. It'd been unsettling to go from the center of a warzone straight into civilian life. The passengers around us suspected we'd been involved but were either too intimidated or simply uninterested to ask us about it. We took our seats along with everyone else and as the craft lifted off from Sargon, I stole a look out of the window.

  “Good riddance,” muttered Mozzy under his breath.

  I looked at Mason who remained silent, staring at nothing in particular and occasionally rubbing at his chest. I didn't say anything. That would come later.

  Once we were docked with the station, we disembarked in a long line where security waved us through the barriers, no questions asked. That made us officially free and I'd been tense all the way there wondering if Eldritch could pull strings that long. Evidently, he could.

  Baz and Jo met us outside the Hikane. The ship was thrumming with life and ready to sail and I felt a wave of fatigue wash over me. We'd been awake for too long, done too much and eaten nothing since the cafe. We were drained.

  “Where's Thor?” asked Jo. I waved the tube at her. “What the hell happened?”

  “Let's be underway first,” I said. “Then we'll fill you in.”

  “Who are you?” asked Baz, looking at Mozzy.

  “Our guest,” I replied. “He tried to kill us but he's okay.”

  Puzzled beyond belief, Baz shook his head and followed us onto the ship. In less
than ten minutes I was in my room, under a shower and already beginning to drift off with long blinks of my eyes. Another ten minutes and I was gone.

  It was Jo who woke me four hours later with a tray of coffee and some toast and little Jimmy at her side. It was the nicest way to be woken up and I said as much as I invited them both into my room.

  “Sleep well?” she asked as I sat on the edge of the bed, sipping at the cup. It had to be the best coffee I'd had in a long time.

  “Well enough,” I smiled. “What's happening?”

  “We've just received a coded message from Argo and another from Angel's defense-”

  “Aleksei Rokossovsky?”

  “The same. You say it like it isn't a mouthful.”

  “It's not when you've heard it so many times,” I laughed. “He'll be looking for a sitrep.”

  “And Argo?” I shrugged.

  “It seems like everyone has an interest in this thing. Speaking of which, what's Mozzy doing now?”

  “Sleeping I guess. He's being closely monitored and Baz says he hasn't left his room since he went in.”

  “Good.”

  “Who is he, Carter?”

  “Right now? Angel's best hope of freedom. He knows the location of a data vault where evidence of Bourmont's treason was hidden away. We get that and we clear Angel's name.”

  “That sounds simpler than it probably is.”

  “I've no doubt about that but right now we're out of options. He was on the team, Jo. If we hand him over the chances are that he'll go down with her. This way we might be able to help them both.”

  “I hope so.”

  I looked at Jimmy who hadn't stopped staring at me since he'd come in.

  “How's Thor?” I asked.

  “He's fine though a little shook up if that's-” She stopped herself. “Obviously it's possible, right?” I nodded. “His systems appear fine though now he's back in his original frame. He's already begun constructing another to replace that one – and yes, I'm keeping a close eye on both of them.” She smiled and turned to the little bot. “Come on, buddy. Let's get back to work and let Carter enjoy his breakfast.”

  “Okay, ma'am,” he chirped. “Top of the mornin' to ya, Mr. Carter, sir.”

  “Good morning to you too, Jimmy.”

  When they'd gone I settled back on the bed and tried to unpack the last few days whilst I munched at the toast. It wasn't easy. There were too many fingers in too many pies and right now I'd had enough of food metaphors. It felt like the old days of 'go over there and shoot that' had long gone and I was now some Spook or Operator, deeply involved in plans and schemes I didn't have a clue about. I was glad that Mozzy and his team had ineptly come right at us; I'd needed the simplicity of combat to clear my head and if his bargaining chip proved legal tender, I'd be happy to play his game until I got what I wanted. Facing an all-out assault on a fortress seemed infinitely more preferable to any further breadcrumb-chasing.

  I finished eating, put on some clothes and made my way to the bridge. Baz was there, sat with his feet up watching some video on his comms unit. I went and sat in the weapon control seat and turned to face him.

  “Anything I need to know?” I asked. He shook his head.

  “Not a thing,” he replied without taking his eyes off what he was watching. “Getting the buffer was a cake-walk.”

  “Have you seen Mason?”

  “Still in bed I guess. What happened down there?”

  I filled him in, probably in more detail than was necessary but at that moment I felt I had to get it off my chest. It also helped to put things in perspective. I included the part where Mason's stray shot had killed two civilians and as I told the story Baz visibly winced.

  “Poor guy,” he said. “That's not going to go away any time soon.”

  “I don't expect it to, nor should it, but bear it in mind when you speak to him, okay?”

  “Sure, no problem. We've all been there, right?”

  “Sadly, that's true.”

  We chewed over some less important stuff like the shopping he'd done on the station and his time spent playing games with Jimmy. He couldn't get over how childlike and real the bot was and, though disturbing by its implications, he actually enjoyed having him around.

  “What are you going to do with him when we go home?” he asked. It was a good question.

  “Keep him hidden for now,” I said. “Jo is going to investigate the whole thing, find out just what Jack managed to create when he started messing with Thor's CPU. There's a basic degree of AI to most bots but he goes beyond anything directly man-made. Even those Death Squad synthetics aren't capable of independent thought like Thor. If the wrong people find out I dread to think what might happen to them both.”

  “You actually give a shit now, Carter?” he laughed. I kicked his shin with the toe of my boot and he yelped.

  “Don't spread it around. One day I might even start giving a shit about you.”

  “You couldn't live without me,” he grinned. “I'm the MVP of the team.”

  “If you say so, man. If you say so.”

  I turned back to the consoles and began playing with them, trying to remember how to bring up the external comms. The layouts had a flavor of the systems on the Helios but I began to wonder if that was more of a hindrance than a help. I got there eventually and called up Aleksei's message first. It was a simple call-back. Argo had left a message on a secure network.

  “As usual you've managed to poke the hornet's nest on Sargon. If you aren't lying in a pool of your own blood, which I severely doubt you are, return this communication as soon as possible. We must meet.”

  “He's got such a way with words,” snorted Baz.

  “He must read a lot. So many big phrases. Sometimes I find myself wishing I had a thesaurus.”

  He'd left intercept coordinates embedded in the message and I read them aloud to him.

  “You want to meet him again?” he asked.

  “What choice do I have?” I replied. “If we're going to hit this data vault then we're looking at some serious planning time and a shop for hardware.”

  “Sounds like my kind of Op.”

  “Yeah, sounds just like something Argo will pat us on the back for doing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It's a data vault. That's dirt on a whole lot of people and if Mozzy is telling the truth then it involves a number of Earth Gov. personnel. Do you think Argo won't want some of that?”

  “Hmm,” he said. “Possibly.”

  “Well I can almost guarantee it and I intend to milk it for all I can.”

  “Make him foot the bill?”

  “In a manner of speaking.” I checked the console. “How long until we intercept?”

  “Six hours,” he said, scanning his own screen. “They didn't pick up much pace since we parted from them. Engines must still be struggling because they're bound for Indigo-Six.”

  “The Commonwealth shipyard?”

  “The very same.”

  “He must be desperate.”

  I turned back to the console and brought up the secure channel for Aleksei. He answered the call after the third ring.

  “Carter,” he said, appearing on the display sat behind his desk. Did he ever go home? There was a pause as the comms-lag kicked in over such a long distance. “I'm glad you returned my call.”

  “I guess you're looking for an update?”

  “Yes, that's part of the reason I called.”

  “The other?” I said, feeling my throat constrict.

  “There's been an... incident involving Angel.”

  “Is she okay?” I blurted out. The lag was suddenly infuriating.

  “Yes, yes – she's fine. I cannot say the same for those who attacked her but-”

  “What?” I cried.

  “There have been several attempts on her life and the Warden has only recently seen fit to inform me of them. I've had her transferred to a more secure wing but I don't know how long that will
hold them back. I suspect it may have been an internal plot.”

  “By who? Bourmont?”

  “Who?” he replied and I realized that my mouth was moving faster than my brain. “Perhaps you should fill me in on what you've discovered so far.”

  So I did, spending a lot of time thrashing out just what Argo had told us and how it had led us to Sargon City. Aleksei listened intently, making notes on a tablet at his right hand. I offered to forward the recording to him but he shook his head.

  “Although I'm grateful for your candor, it would be wise to respect Argo's need for secrecy.”

  “Do you think he's right? I mean, the whole scheme to move his own people into positions of power?”

  “I'll admit that it makes me nervous; having a government with strong military leanings is dangerous at best. But I take his point and this unknown fleet troubles me too, confirming what you've told me. Argo is a good man, his father's son.”

  “You know them both?” I asked, a little taken back.

  “Of course,” he chuckled. “I defended Admiral Argo at the Battle Of Mars inquiry led by a witch-hunt of a JAG investigation. I got to know them both and have a long-standing respect for the family.”

  “Can I trust him?”

  “If you're in line with his interests? Yes, I'd say you could.”

  “And if I wasn't?” He shrugged, barely moving the soft material of his expensive suit.

  “My advice is to try your hardest not to be.” We shared a laugh together and I saw him consult his wrist. “I'm afraid I have another appointment. Please let me know how your second meeting with the Captain goes before you decide to act. Time is moving quickly even though you've only been gone a couple of days. I believe Bourmont will attempt to tie up loose ends as quickly as possible.”

  “Seeing Death Squads again after so long makes me agree with you.”

  “That is very troubling, I'll admit. Synthetic killers from some dark corner of the Commonwealth are expensive and to throw them away in that manner tells us much about our opponent. He's desperate.”