Salvage Merc One: The Daedalus System

by Jake Bible

  Mainly, it was because of traffic. Some of the wormhole portals were just bumper to bumper spaceships. I made myself a mental note to get fully acquainted with the off-grid trans-space portals the ship had in its navigation system. Main Street was for suckers.

  We were met by a large contingent of security personnel when we reached SMC headquarters finally. I wasn’t too happy since they were in my private Salvage Merc One hangar. It felt a little intrusive.

  But that was really the worst of it I had to deal with. It was more of a pain in the butt for Mgurn and Alya. The guards kept forgetting I was with them every few seconds. Which meant their ire was focused on Mgurn and Alya.

  Which was puzzling. Why was their ire even focused on anyone? What was with the ire in the first place?

  We all found out fast as we were marched into the Bosses office. They were just finishing mid-afternoon tea when we were shown in. Boss Five waved the guards away, and they left quickly, snapping snotty looks at Mgurn and Alya.

  “Salvage Merc One, you made it back alive,” Boss Five said. “And you brought Alya Horne with you.”

  “Was he supposed to do that?” Boss Three asked. “Was that his mission?”

  “Did he have a mission?” Boss Two asked.

  “What are we missing?” Boss One asked and stood up to look in his seat. “Hey, I found my gum.”

  He grabbed it up and started chewing noisily.

  “I am not sure you were clear on what was expected of you, Joe,” Boss Four said. “The return of Alya Horne was not in the description.”

  “I improvised,” I said. “Salvage Merc One’s prerogative and all that.”

  “You may have overstepped, Joe,” Boss Six said.

  “Is that so?” I replied. “I saved a woman, a former Salvage Merc One, from a life in purgatory, and I overstepped how?”

  “She had her time,” Boss Five said.

  “Most definitely,” Boss Three agreed.

  “Her fate was sealed,” Boss Four added.

  “You are messing with forces that you cannot understand,” Boss Six said.

  “Don’t care,” I replied. “Salvage Merc One. Me. Not you. You guys are just dead asshats.”

  There was a collective gasp, except from Boss Seven.

  “Joe, come on,” Boss Seven said. “You’ve barely been in this position. You don’t know what you—”

  “Don’t care,” I said, holding up a hand. I nodded at Alya. “Embrace her return or not. I don’t care. I’m not asking for her to take her place among you foing bungnuts. No point in doing that. She’s not dead.”

  More collective gasps, even from Boss Seven.

  “Yeah, that’s right, Bossmen,” I said. “Alya Horne is alive. She’s also a badass, and I want her back on the SMC payroll. She’s one of few beings I can trust around here. That means a foing lot. She gets assigned a number, and she’s put on active duty.”

  “Two assistants? Insanity,” Boss Two said.

  “Insanity?” Boss One chirped. “Why, yes, thank you, I’d love some! Third helpings are my favorite helpings!”

  “No, not as my second assistant,” I said. “She gets a real number and has access to the ticket pool just like all the other numbers. If we work together, then great. If not, no worries. She’s free to do what she wants and take whatever jobs she wants.”

  I catch Alya out of the corner of my eye. She’s staring at me, her mouth hanging open. Mgurn’s mandibles are hanging open as well, but not because of what I was proposing, more because I was handing the Bosses their asses.

  Before they could keep arguing with me, I continued.

  “I noticed something while I was stuck in that labyrinth,” I said. “None of my gifts came into play. I never had clarity, I never read minds, I didn’t have any of your old gifts inhabit me and help me along.”

  I watched them closely. Not a one said anything. Even Boss One kept his trap shut.

  “Yet here I am,” I said. “Alive and kicking.”

  “Your point?” Boss Three asked.

  “My point is I’m better at this gig than any of you were,” I said. “And the artifact knows it. It sent me there to put me to the test. I passed. Now it wants to give me a reward.”

  “It does?” they asked.

  “It does?” Alya asked as well.

  “What reward?” Mgurn asked. “Is it a chit bonus? Can the artifact handle chits?”

  “Not a chit bonus,” I said to Mgurn. He looked really bummed. “It’s even better.”

  “Oh,” Mgurn said. He looked wary since his idea of better and my idea of better rarely meshed. “How much better?”

  “I got lucky,” I said. “If Mgurn had found a faster way out of the Daedalus System then I would never have discovered what the artifact wants from me. But he didn’t, so I had us turn around and fly through the labyrinth.”

  More gasps.

  “Knock it off,” I said. “We went through a lot of strange crud as we flew through the labyrinth. Stuff we will never, ever, ever talk about. But one thing that I went through, singular to me only since I’ve got the handy dandy artifact tucked away deep down in my insides, was that it doesn’t care about any of the gifts we had. Those gifts were not why we were chosen to be Salvage Merc Ones. Those gifts were just a sign that we could handle having the artifact in us and not go supernova. Which, by the way, is what happens to normal beings it tries to inhabit. Boom.”

  “Then what does it want from us?” Boss Seven asked.

  “It wants us to choose,” I said. “It wants us to sort through the labyrinth of our own souls and find what truly, madly, deeply matters. Only then will we even get close to unlocking the artifact’s potential.”

  They waited. I had them on the hook. It was just time to reel them in.

  “So, right now, here today, in front of all of you, I’m making that choice,” I said. “I could choose anything from being super strong to possibly being able to navigate wormhole portals on my own, no ship needed, just a spacesuit and a lot of guts.”

  “Oh, please do not choose that,” Mgurn said. “That sounds awful.”

  “I agree with ya there, buddy,” I said. “But, back during the trials, Alya told me what her gift had been. I didn’t pay attention then, but the second, never to be spoken about trip, gave me a chance to revisit her words. And I realized hers was the greatest gift ever.”

  I had them. They were waiting with baited breath.

  “So, what I choose is this: I want to be remembered,” I continued. “I want people to know who I am and what I am and not forget either of those things within seconds of walking away. I want to be a person again.”

  “Joe, that is impossible,” Boss Seven said. “It is something we all wanted when we were Salvage Merc One, but it’s not going to happen. Alya didn’t ascend to being a Boss, so her gift was not transferred. That isn’t how the artifact works.”

  “It is now sucka,” I said. “Call the guards back in.”

  They hesitated, but Boss Four finally snapped his fingers and the security guards came in fast, carbines up and ready for whatever threat had presented itself.

  “Do you know who these beings are?” Boss Four asked them.

  The guards stared at us and finally one spoke, “From her description, that is Miss Alya Horne, former Salvage Merc and listed as missing in action. The Leforian is Mgurn, of course. Hello, Mgurn.”

  “Hello,” Mgurn said and waved at the guards. They waved back. Everyone loved Mgurn, they couldn’t keep their ire focused on him forever.

  “The gentleman is, of course, the great Salvage Merc One, Joe Laribeau,” the guard said. He looked puzzled. “My visor is telling me he is deceased. I’ll have HR fix that as soon as I leave, sirs.”

  Middle fingers went up from me. The Bosses all frowned.

  “Yes, please do that,” Boss Four said to the guard. “That will be all.”

  “Joe, you haven’t been around for a while,” the guard said as he was leaving. “There’s now an
open spot in the security personnel’s weekly poker game if you want to join.”

  “Hey, I might do that,” I said. “Thanks.”

  The guards left, all looking a little confused, but none seemed hostile to me. If anything, just like the offer from the one guard to play poker, they were all happy to see me and completely content with the fact I was Salvage Merc One.

  “Yeah, I think we’re done here,” I said. “Unless you Bosses have anything to add?”

  “We will discuss this new arrangement and call for you when we have come to a conclusion,” Boss Six said.

  “Yes, that,” Boss Five said.

  “You may leave, Joe,” Boss Seven said. “Go enjoy your freedom.”

  “While it lasts?” I asked.

  “What? No, I wasn’t implying that at all,” Boss Seven said. “We’re all on the same side here, Joe. I hope you see that.”

  “Oh, I see something,” I said then turned and snapped my fingers. “Joe out.”

  Twenty-Six

  “Joe out?” Alya laughed as we sat at my corner table, pitchers of beer in hand. “That’s how you wanted to leave it? Joe out?”

  “I panicked,” I said, pouring us each a pint. “I’d pretty much said what I’d gone there to say, and I didn’t have anything left. Joe out was what popped into my head and popped out of my mouth.”

  “Well, it worked,” she said and raised a glass. “To Joe being out.”

  “To Joe being out,” I agreed, and we clinked glasses.

  “Hey,” Mgurn protested as he set down two bowls of peanuts and a bowl of chips and one of salsa in the center of the table. “No fair starting toasts without me. I had to fetch snacks.”

  “You can make the next toasts,” I said.

  “Oh, I am awful at making toasts,” he replied as he took his seat. “Just show me the courtesy of including me in the rest this evening.”

  “Hey, Joe,” a number said as she walked by. “Good to see you back.”

  “Thanks, Margery,” I said. “Glad to be back.”

  “Joe! What’s up?” a very drunk number named Balcon said.

  He was a Shiv’erna, an elephantine race with long noses, and he had his nose raised in the air, ready to spray beer everywhere. He was tackled by his drinking buddies first, and the beer leaked all over the floor.

  “These are the people you wanted to be remembered by?” Alya laughed. “You are hard up for friends, Joe.”

  “Don’t I know it,” I said and hooked a thumb at Mgurn.

  “What?” he asked. “What was that about?”

  “Pay better attention next time and you’ll know,” I said.

  “I would, but I just saw someone come into the mess hall that may interest you,” Mgurn said. He nodded his quad-jaw at the doorway and gave me a small smile. “Should we leave?”

  “Leave? Why?” Alya asked. Then she saw who Mgurn was talking about and winced. “Oh. That’s the woman from the cabin, isn’t it? The one that tried to kill you?”

  “The one that tried to kill me only looked like her,” I said. “This is the real Hopsheer, and she wouldn’t dare harm me.”

  I stood up and cleared my throat. The real test was about to begin. All of my pontificating about what the artifact wanted was just bluster. All I wanted was Hoppy to stop forgetting me. I wanted to be with her and stay with her and—

  “Joe Laribeau!” she roared when she caught sight of me. “You son of a bitch!”

  “Oh, this should be great,” Alya said. “Right, Mgurn?”

  “I am most uncomfortable with what is about to happen,” Mgurn said. “Maybe I should leave?”

  Hopsheer shoved about two dozen numbers out of the way to get to my table. They weren’t small numbers either. She sent them flying. Her face was rock hard pissed off, and her eyes were full on stone. I don’t know what the fo I did, but she wasn’t holding back on how she felt about it.

  “Uh, hey Hoppy,” I said as she reached us. “I’m glad to see—”

  “Don’t!” she snapped and held up a stone-skinned finger. “Do not!”

  She looked at Mgurn and nodded then focused on Alya.

  “Is she why you’ve completely blown me off?” she growled. “You found yourself someone new, and that makes it all okay to just not talk to me for months and months?”

  “Whoa, hold on now,” Alya said and stood up. “This has nothing to do with me. I just got back here, and I do not need this drama.”

  She patted me on the shoulder.

  “Good luck, Joe,” she said. “I think you are about to experience the definition of be careful what you wish for.”

  “You think you can just walk away?” Hopsheer snarled, blocking Alya from leaving the table.

  Alya was a foot shorter than Hopsheer, but she held her ground.

  “Little girl, you do not want to mess with me,” she said. “I was crushing halfers like you before your parents were even born.”

  Hopsheer took a step back. You don’t call a halfer a halfer. Not when they’re the size of Hoppy and already ten kinds of rage pissed.

  “Move,” Alya warned.

  “Hopsheer, she is not romantically involved with Joe,” Mgurn said. “I would also advise that you move.”

  Alya’s skin shimmered slightly, the look of scales appearing for a brief moment. Mgurn gasped, looked at me, looked at Alya, looked back at me, then looked at Hopsheer.

  “Oh, yes, you will want to move,” Mgurn said.

  Hopsheer saw the fear in his eyes and reluctantly stepped out of the way.

  “This isn’t over, girlie,” Hopsheer said.

  “Yeah, it is,” Alya replied. She looked back at me. I knew what she was going to say before she said it, and I cringed. “I can still crash with you and Mgurn, right? Just until the Bosses assign me my own quarters?”

  “Yeah, of course,” I said and tried to give Hopsheer an innocent smile. “Stay as long as you need.”

  “I will,” Alya said and casually strolled away from the table. Then she turned on her heel, came back and picked up one of the pitchers. “For the road.”

  “Mgurn, I love you, but leave,” Hopsheer ordered as soon as Alya had left the mess hall.

  “I will do that,” Mgurn said. He nodded at the snacks. “May I take these with me? Or will you be eating them?”

  “Go,” Hopsheer snapped.

  “Gone,” Mgurn said. He left the snacks.

  Hopsheer sat down across from me and glared for a very long time. Half the mess hall had emptied by the time she spoke again.

  “Why, Joe?” she asked. I could hear the hurt in her voice. Lots of rage still, but plenty of hurt. “You just went away.”

  “I didn’t go away,” I said. “I’ve been here the whole time. It’s a Salvage Merc One thing.”

  “You’re going to throw an excuse like that in my face?” she snapped. “Weak.”

  “It’s true,” I said. “Until just a couple hours ago, no one could remember me. Only Mgurn and the Bosses.”

  “And what’s her name?” Hopsheer asked. “Could she remember you too?”

  “Yes,” I said. “But that’s because she used to be a Salvage Merc One.”

  “Sheezus,” Hopsheer responded. She let loose with a cold, harsh laugh. “There has never been a female Salvage Merc One. Everyone knows that. The legend states only males. Although, considering what a nutless, gutless, sack of crud you are, I’m suspecting that maybe you don’t even fit that description.”

  The conversation was going downhill fast. I had to save it. I had to…what? Salvage it?

  “I love you,” I said. “More than I love myself. More than I love being Salvage Merc One. Hell, I’d give everything up in a heartbeat if that made you happy. Happy Hoppy is all I care about. But life didn’t turn out that way. The artifact is messed up.”

  I tapped my chest.

  “No offense, artifact,” I said. “Don’t boil me from the inside out or anything like that.”

  For the first time in a long tim
e, I saw Hopsheer look worried. She caught herself and returned to pissed, but I saw the look.

  “How can I believe anything you say, Joe?” Hopsheer asked. “You meant the galaxy to me and then you were gone. No note. No nothing.”

  “That’s not true,” I said. “Dig deep, Hoppy. Search your memories. I wasn’t gone. We’ve played pool in my quarters and drank more than our share of pitchers together. You just weren’t ever able to hang onto the memories. Now you can. Just look inside. You’ll see it’s true.”

  “Pool in your quarters?” Hopsheer laughed. “You barely fit your bunks in that box. You can’t…play…pool?”

  I didn’t interrupt. I could see the wheels turning in her head. She was working it all out.

  “Not your quarters,” she said to herself. “Salvage Merc One’s quarters. Your new quarters. It has a pool table.”

  “It does,” I said. “Pretty sweet bed, too.”

  Her eyes flashed with anger.

  “Too soon, too soon,” I said. “I was just joking, anyway. I know we have a lot to talk about before we get back to the Joe and Hoppy boom boom show.”

  That made her smile. Me sounding like an idiot always made her smile.

  “A lot to talk about,” she said. She stood up.

  “Wait? That’s it?” I asked. “Where are you going?”

  “The same place you’re going,” she said. “My quarters. You obviously have company in yours, so we wouldn’t have any privacy there. So it’s my place. Unless you want to wait and talk some other time?”

  “No!” I exclaimed so loud that more than a few numbers jumped in their seats. “No, I have waited too long. Let’s go talk. Now. Right now. All about the talking right now.”

  “Good,” Hopsheer said. “But, just so you know, I’m not making you any promises.”

  “Promises about what?” I asked.

  “About not beating the foing crud out of you if I don’t like what you have to say,” she answered.

  “You’ll like what I have to say,” I said. “You may not believe it, or maybe you will, but either way, you’ll like what I have to say. It’s all about you.”

  “That’s a good start,” she said and picked up the remaining pitchers. “Come on, assface.”