by James Wisher
A blast of cool air hit her. Iaka sucked in a lung full and the spots vanished. The worst of the shaking ceased. Best of all no alarms sounded.
The comm blared at her. “Come in shuttle 037 our scans show you have serious damage. Do you require assistance?”
“This is shuttle 037. If you can guide my autopilot I believe I can make it to a landing field, a nearby one please.”
“Roger, transmitting coordinates now.”
Numbers scrolled across the screen and the autopilot beeped an acknowledgement. They shifted course. A few minutes later a fair sized city came into view. On the outskirts sprawled a large spaceport. She relaxed a little. It appeared she would make it down in one piece.
***
Iaka made it the ground in one piece, her transport not so much. She crawled out of the remains of her shuttle. Scarred, charred and shot full of holes, the shuttle rested in a bay at the spaceport which she couldn’t afford to rent. Perhaps she could sell it for scrap. If she wanted to get off world she’d need to hitch a ride. She grinned. Or better yet call in a ride.
She needed to find a comm unit and see if Marcus was in the neighborhood. Calling for another rescue galled, but not as much as being stuck on this rock with a pair of masked killers in orbit above. She left the landing bay and headed toward the central spaceport. They had to have a public hyperspace comm.
At the doorway out of the landing area movement caught her eye. Iaka turned in time to see a sleek, black star fighter enter the landing bay. In the pilot seat sat the masked killer. He turned his blank stare on her as he flew past. Iaka ran through the door. She had at best a few minutes head start.
She ran down a breezeway connecting the landing zone to the terminal. Every few seconds she looked back over her shoulder expecting to see the killer raising his weapon to blast her. The only positive thought she could muster was the fighter only had a single seat. Maybe David survived and the second killer went after him. Or maybe it landed somewhere else and she’d run into it later.
A pair of armed guards stood at the end of the breezeway. She stopped beside them, out of breath.
“Are you okay, miss?” One the guards asked.
“You heard about the attack on the space station?” The guards both nodded. “One of the terrorists is here. I saw him when I landed my shuttle. He’s piloting a sleek, black fighter.”
The guards’ tails twitched, they drew their blasters, and ran back the way she’d come. Iaka yelled after them, “Be careful. He’s very dangerous.”
If they heard her they gave no sign. She shook her head and hoped they didn’t find the masked man. If they did they were dead. She looked around the vast terminal. Hundreds of people walked around, going from baggage collection, waiting areas, to loading ramps. She should have asked the guards where to find the comms before she told them about the killer.
A ten minute search brought Iaka to a bank of ten hyperspace comms. She ducked into the first empty booth she came to, dropped a fifty credit coin in the shot, and punched in the Rogue Star’s comm identification number. Come on, come on, she tapped her foot.
A few seconds later Solomon’s face appeared on the screen. “Iaka, this is a surprise. We were just talking about—”
“I’m in trouble, Solomon. I’m stuck planet side and—”
The comm unit exploded, showering her with sparks. Iaka leapt out of the booth ahead of a disruptor blast. At the far end of the bank the killer adjusted his aim and prepared to fire again.
CHAPTER THREE
Oliver McDonald and his granddaughter, Celine, made their way through Southeast Federal Prison. They’d dismissed the human guards five months ago when Voidwalker and his people, if you could call them people, moved in. They followed one of Voidwalker’s lackeys, a four foot tall masked creature that had its legs replaced with an antigravity unit and micro-thrusters, along a corrugated walk way above a high-tech lab filled with machines he didn’t recognize and vats occupied by prisoners floating in bubbling fluids. The acrid stench made his eyes water. The mess would have made a fine scene in one of the classic horror movies his granddaughter had so enjoyed as a child.
Oliver couldn’t wait to see his clone for the first time. Voidwalker had aged it to full maturity in three months and now he would transfer Oliver’s intellect into the clone’s blank mind. He would become young again, strong again. If the procedure worked his people could repeat it as often as necessary. Perhaps he would even extend the gift of eternal life to his dear granddaughter.
Celine rested her hand on his shoulder. “Are you certain you want to go through with this, Grandfather?”
He patted her hand. She was sweet to worry. Of all his relatives he loved Celine best. “It’s this or the grave my dear. Earth is at a delicate place and I dare not leave it to lesser men to see us through.” In truth Oliver possessed the greatest mind of his generation. All other men were less than he.
They reached a locked steel door with a keypad and their guide punched in a code. The door slid up into the ceiling and the creature motioned them inside. Oliver glided through first with Celine a step behind. The door closed behind them. Voidwalker stood beside a computer console. He held himself erect and with his head at an arrogant angle. Oliver’s winkled face reflected off the black, mirror bright mask the Void scientist wore. A few feet away stood a steel cylinder. Oliver’s mouth went dry. He had a good idea what waited inside.
“Well, I assume everything we provided was to your satisfaction.” Oliver tried to hide his anxiety, but feared he failed.
Voidwalker nodded. “The space is adequate and the subjects plentiful. You have held up your end of the bargain. I am well satisfied.” The cold emotionless tone made the Void leader seem every bit as much a monster as his exotic creations.
“Now it’s your turn.” Oliver could hardly control the yearning in his voice. He’d wanted nothing so much in his long life. The desire sickened him a little, but he couldn’t deny it. Soon he would abandon this frail shell of a body and live again.
“Yes, your clone reached full maturity yesterday. We ran the final tests to assure its viability yesterday.” Voidwalker pressed a button on his console and the steel sleeve on the cylinder shot up. Inside a vat of bubbling liquid floated a young Oliver McDonald.
He directed his chair over and laid a hand on the warm cylinder. He hadn’t seen the face floating behind the glass in decades, a firm chin, no wrinkles or bags under the eyes. The body below was well muscled, the hands smooth with no age spots or knuckles swollen with arthritis.
“At last.” Oliver’s voice almost broke with pleasure.
“Does the host suit you?” Voidwalker distracted him from his inspection of his new body.
“It’s perfect. When do we begin the transference?”
“Now.” Voidwalker guided Oliver’s hoverchair into position beside the tank. A pair of clamps held the chair in place. Voidwalker strapped a circlet connected to a set of wires around Oliver’s head. He winced at the tight fit. “Are you prepared? Once we begin the process can’t be reversed.”
“I’ve been ready to leave this wretched body for years. Let’s not delay a moment longer.”
Voidwalker nodded once and stepped over to a computer console. He typed in a command and turned a dial. Oliver flinched when a shock ran through his body. A moment later everything went numb, then dark.
***
Oliver struggled, flailing in liquid that filled his lungs. He was drowning. He beat against the dark walls that held him. The liquid drained away and he coughed and hacked the horrid, sour stuff out. Light then color filled his vision. The walls rose up and he staggered with nothing to help hold him up. Staggered, he was walking. God above he hadn’t walked on his own in twenty years. No wonder he couldn’t manage it.
A blanket fell around his shoulders. The blurry figure that delivered it resolved into his granddaughter. “Celine.” He coughed. “Celine, it worked.”
“Of course it worked.” Oliver turned to
ward the cold, precise voice. Voidwalker’s blank mask regarded him. The man tapped his finger against the bottom of the black mask. “It may take a day or two for your mind to fully integrate with your new body.”
Oliver used the towel to wipe the thick liquid off. Celine handed him a piece of folded cloth. He shook it out and found a pair of silk underwear. He’d forgotten he was naked. Oliver laughed, delighted at the strength of his voice, and slipped the underwear on. Voidwalker tapped a button on his console. A few seconds later the legless servant opened the door. It held a fine black suit on a hanger. Celine brought it to him.
Oliver took his time getting dressed, both to enjoy the movements of his new body and get used to how his hands worked. He snugged the blue tie up around his neck and smiled. He felt better than he had in decades. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Voidwalker waved off Oliver’s gratitude. “Our deal is now complete. I will take a DNA sample from your old body should you need a new host in the future, then dispose of it. If you require nothing else I need to return to my work.”
“Of course, thank you again.”
Oliver and Celine followed the legless servant back the way they’d come. As they walked Oliver grew steadier on his new legs. When they reached the main door to the prison the servant nodded once and flew back into the facility. They walked across the fenced in yard toward the perimeter gate. The correction officers that had once guarded this facility had been replaced by black clad Void drones. They resembled men, but retained little personality. They existed only to obey orders.
The outer gate opened at their approach. On the other side Oliver’s hover car and driver, Max, waited. Max opened the backseat door to allow Oliver and Celine to climb in. Oliver had told no one but Max, the other members of his personal guard, and Celine of course, about his plan to get a new body. He sat facing the partition and his Granddaughter sat across from him.
Oliver blinked, taken by surprise at how beautiful Celine looked. He wasn’t certain he’d ever really looked at her before, the long blond hair, full, soft lips, his gaze continued to her pale, toned legs. He licked his lips and put a hand on her knee. Oliver slid his hand further up her thigh. Celine’s hand struck his face with a loud smack, twisting his head to the side. Oliver shook his head and sat back. What was he thinking? It felt like his body reacted without his control.
“My apologies, Granddaughter, I don’t know what came over me.”
“Hormones, you’re in a twenty year old male body. Did you not consider what that meant?”
Max powered up the car and drove away. Celine was right. He hadn’t even considered how a young body would react. It had been so long since he’d looked at any woman that way. He’d have to make sure these new reactions didn’t cloud his thinking.
“I considered nothing beyond an additional sixty years of life, everything else was secondary.”
Celine frowned and shook her head. “What now?”
“Now we get our security forces to that prison to secure their technology. The Void has served their purpose. We need to eliminate them before they cause problems.”
“What about you? You can’t walk into your office and announce you’re a new, younger Director McDonald. You’d end up in a mental hospital.”
Oliver nodded. He’d given the matter a great deal of thought. “We’ll need to contact Arnold and get him to a secure meeting. He’ll have to take my place as director and become my public face. I’ll continue to make all the decisions of course.”
“Of course.”
***
“The humans are gone, master.” The legless servant said. No one would guess from looking at him that Dorn was Voidwalker’s most trusted and skilled assistant.
“Thank you, Dorn. I trust they’ll receive a proper greeting when they arrive at their hotel.” Voidwalker had lived up to the deal he’d made with the human and now that he had a foothold on Earth he no longer needed the man. At least not the man that walked out of his lab so proud of his new body.
Voidwalker turned his emotionless gaze on the still breathing husk Oliver MacDonald left behind. “Let us begin with the face.”
The two expert scientists labored over the remains for ten hours without pause. They installed micro motors, armatures, high tensile filaments, and finally a computer implant in the body’s brain that contained a copy of all Oliver’s memories along with a secure transceiver that would allow Voidwalker to see through its eyes and send instructions as needed. The director’s shell would make a perfect spy and assassin. Now they needed to eliminate the clone and the woman.
***
Oliver’s car pulled into the parking garage of a gleaming twenty story hotel in downtown Atlanta. He’d chosen the hotel both for its discretion and proximity to Earth Force’s Southeast Division Headquarters. Max parked in the VIP section next to the lifts. The car door opened and Oliver stepped out.
He took a couple steps toward the lift then stopped and tuned back for his attache. A crimson blast streaked past where his head would have been if he’d taken another step. Oliver dove back through the door, knocking Celine back in ahead of him. Blaster bolts hammered the car.
“Max! Get some help down here.”
Max poked his head in the car. “On their way, sir.”
“What’s going on?” Celine asked over the screech of Max’s blaster.
“We’re under attack. Who knows we’re here?”
Celine shook her head, eyes wide. “Just you, me, and the protection team. I can’t believe one of them would betray us.”
“Neither can I.” Oliver scrambled to the far window. A blaster bolt splashed against it. He grinned. Whoever shot at them would need something more powerful than hand held blasters to get to him. Security services had built his car like a tank. Right now Oliver wished it had a turret.
Across the garage four men stood beside a shiny, black hovercar. They kept up a steady stream of fire. Max hit one of them in the chest, but a personal shield deflected it. Void assassins, minus the mask and integrated weapons. He knew of no one else with miniaturized shield technology that advanced. It seemed Voidwalker stole a march on him. How had he known where to send his killers?
Outside, the lift chimed, the door opened, and the rest of his eight man protection team rushed out. One of them moved too slow and took a blast to the chest. The fight raged back and forth outside. The car shook and blue sparks ran along the frame. A moment later the car crashed a foot to the ground, they’d taken out the antigravity generator.
Oliver activated his personal comm, but got only static. The assassins had a jamming device, he couldn’t count on any help from headquarters. “Max!”
Max stuck his head in. “Sir?”
“Sitrep.”
“Standoff, sir. Our weapons can’t hurt them, and they can’t get through the car’s armor.”
“We need to move, Max, before they decide to walk over here and shoot us.”
“Car’s dead, sir. That ion blast fried all the circuits.”
“Shit! Options?”
“They’re coming!” one of the other guards shouted.
“The lift is our only option for retreat, sir.”
Oliver nodded. “Let’s go.”
His guards made an alley and he and Celine ran through it to the lift. One of the guards got picked off a second later. The rest piled in and the door slid shut.
“Which floor?” Max asked.
“Is my jet on standby?” Oliver asked.
“Always, sir.”
“Okay, top floor. There must be a roof access.”
Max hit the button and the lift shot up. It took seconds for them to reach the top floor. The guards exited first, securing their position. Max waved Oliver and Celine out. They stood in a circle of nervous guards and looked around. The hall was deserted and the top floor held only three suites and Oliver had rented two of them.
“Roof access, Max.”
Oliver followed his guards down the hall, their fo
otsteps silent on the soft carpet. They reached the end of the hall and found a door with a keypad. One of the guards blasted it and the door slid open. They entered the employee only section of the hotel. Carpet and hardwood paneling gave way to metal and linoleum. The acrid scent of cleaners filled the air. They passed a storage room filled with cleaning supplies. A slender man in a bellhop’s uniform rounded a corner and found six blasters focused on his chest.
He scrambled back, but Max grabbed his shirt. “Where’s the roof access?”
The bellhop jerked a thumb over his shoulder, unable to speak.
Max spun him around and shoved him forward. “Lead the way.”
They followed the terrified man around the corner. A scream sounded behind them whether someone saw them or the Void assassins coming up their back Oliver didn’t know or want to find out. Max pointed at two guards then pointed back the way they’d come. The guards sheather their blasters and drew vibro-blades from sheaths on their lower legs. If they got in close the assassins’ shields wouldn’t protect them from the blades. Oliver didn’t expect to see those two again. He’d make sure to honor their sacrifice by escaping.
The bellhop led them to a door labeled roof access. He swiped his card through the pad. The door buzzed and slid open. Max released the bellhop who ran the opposite way as fast as his legs would carry him. They hurried through the door, pausing long enough to blast the locking mechanism so it couldn’t be opened easily. It wouldn’t slow the assassins long, but every second counted.
They ran up a flight of steps to another door which Max blasted open. They stepped out onto the roof a few yards from the landing pad. Max slammed the door shut and jammed it the best he could.
Oliver activated his comm and set it to the jet’s channel. “I need an emergency pickup at the hotel.”
“Is that you, sir? I can barely hear you. I’m getting a lot of interference.”