Agent Prime

by Jake Bible

  The fourth guard swung his H16 around, put the muzzle into his mouth, and fired, just as three bots converged on him. He fell atop the other headless corpse.

  Sno did not move a muscle. He stayed frozen in place as the bots poked and prodded the corpses, making sure the guards were well and truly dead. Once finished confirming that the guards were deceased, the bots began to roll off towards the maintenance hatches at the end of the corridor. Then they paused as one, turned and faced Sno. Still, Sno did not move a muscle.

  The bots didn’t move towards him and Sno barely breathed. A minute, two minutes, five, ten passed before the bots spun back around and left the corridor. Sno sighed with relief then walked carefully through the bloody carnage to the stateroom doors. He knocked when the doors wouldn’t open. Sno waited and waited then knocked again.

  “Open the damn doors yourselves, you morons!” Veben yelled from the other side.

  “V! It’s me!” Sno replied. “The guards are dead. Bots killed them, but are gone now.”

  There was a click and beep then the doors slid wide and Veben stood there, her face a puffy mess of bruises and gashes. Some of the skin just under her chin was loose and hung there like a disgusting dewlap. Veben absentmindedly tucked the skin back in place with her fingers then gestured for Sno to come in.

  “Is Zan still here?” Sno asked as soon as he was in the stateroom and the doors were locked and secured behind him. “I could use some medical advice.”

  “Are you injured beyond the obvious?” Veben asked, heading straight for the bar.

  Sno stopped and looked at himself in one of the grand mirrors hanging from the foyer wall. He was a mess. But he did have to admit that he looked worse than he felt. Not that he felt too great, but the booming klaxon had stopped drilling into his brain. That thought brought up the image of the guard being murdered by the bot. Sno shivered.

  “Cold, love?” Veben asked, handing him a quadruple whiskey. She had one of her own and downed it in a single gulp. “Go climb in bed with Pol. He’s toasty as a fusion reactor. Poor thing has a fever over one hundred and ten degrees Fahrenheit. Or is it Celsius? No, for beings we use Fahrenheit. Measurements are tricky in this galaxy.”

  She walked away and poured herself more whiskey.

  “One hundred and ten?” Sno asked. “He should be dead.”

  “Oh, he pretty much is,” Veben said. “Come see.”

  Veben led Sno into Pol’s room. The old man was still in bed, propped up by several pillows, and his face was beet red with sweat pouring down it. Zan stood next to Pol looking exhausted and scared out of her wits.

  “What is going on?” Zan asked, shouting over the klaxon. “Why won’t someone turn that off?”

  As if her wish had been granted, the klaxon stopped. Then Pol’s body convulsed as a seizure tore through him.

  “No,” Zan said and grabbed a square mat of plastiglass that was half a meter on each side.

  She pressed the square to Pol’s chest then brought up a holo interface. Swiping like mad, she tried to chase down the electrical impulses that raced through Pol’s body. But as soon as she stopped one set, another would start up and be twice as violent as the one Zan had just subdued.

  After three minutes, Pol’s body went completely rigid then relaxed. Sno didn’t need Zan to confirm that the old man was dead. Or his body was, at least.

  “That calls for more whiskey,” Veben said, holding her glass up high as she left the room. “Who wants drinkies?”

  “Have one,” Sno said to Zan. He crossed to her, took her by the shoulders, and pointed her towards the doors. “Go. Have a drink or six and rest.”

  “They took Velly to the brig,” Zan said as she allowed herself to be steered out of the room by Sno. “They hurt her bad and took her away. Then they locked us in. How did you get in here?”

  “Guards outside are dead. Murdered by maintenance bots,” Sno said, letting go of Zan’s shoulders. The medic made her way to the closest couch and collapsed into it. “As soon as the guards were dead, the locks must have disengaged.”

  “So we have murder bots to thank for our freedom,” Veben said, another glass down, another glass filled. “Too bad I do not intend to leave this stateroom.”

  “V?” Sno asked.

  “Yes, love?” Veben replied.

  “Tell me what’s really going on,” Sno said.

  Veben blinked at Sno a few times then shrugged.

  “I fell for a charming gentleman that promised me a galaxy of riches,” Veben said honestly. Her eyes shifted towards Pol’s room. “So much for that.”

  “Pol isn’t dead,” Sno said. “He’s moved.”

  “I’m sorry?” Veben asked.

  “What?” Zan asked.

  “Pol Hammon is not dead,” Sno said. “He moved. He transferred his consciousness into Ested.”

  “The android?” Veben exclaimed. “No, love, you’re wrong. Pol was using the android to try to get us free from Loch. That son of a bitch captain double-crossed us and decided he’d sell us out to the Skrang instead of allowing the auction to go forward.”

  “Skrang? Are Skrang coming?” Zan asked. “I can’t go back. I will not be a slave to the Skrang again.”

  She stood on wobbly feet then closed her eyes and sat back down.

  “There’s no place to go,” Zan said. “We’re in trans-space. I couldn’t fly out of here if I wanted to.”

  “Perhaps Denman’s pilot friend could get a ship ready for us,” Veben suggested. “Go spring that orange gal and we’ll be off this ship as soon as we’re out of trans-space.”

  “I’m going to need another drink,” Sno said, holding out his glass. “As strong as before.”

  “That’s your story face, love,” Veben said. “Are you sure you want to start a story when you’ve insisted I tell mine? Narratives could get crossed, plotlines confused, possibly—”

  “Stop, V,” Sno said. “Velly is dead. Loch killed her. And we are no longer in trans-space. We dropped out and came through the Mlo portal.”

  “Mlo? The system with the black hole?” Zan exclaimed.

  “Do not forget the den of thieves and smugglers that hide at the rim of the system,” Veben said. “If we are in Mlo, then they are probably en route to plunder this ship. Boarded by space pirates, how romantic.”

  “Did you hear me about the Velly part?” Sno asked.

  “Yes,” Veben said. “But, dear boy, I am not surprised.”

  “Neither am I,” Zan said. “She was beaten badly when they took her away. I expected her to die in the brig.”

  “Same,” Veben agreed.

  “Sorry, though,” Zan said to Sno. “She meant something to you?”

  “She did,” Sno replied. “Thank you.”

  “Hearts and eggshells,” Veben said. “Eventually, they are broken wide open.”

  “What did you and Pol cook up, V?” Sno asked. “During those two days we waited for the M’illi’ped. What did you and Pol plan?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a plan, so much, love,” Veben said. “At least I didn’t think it was a plan. Not until we got aboard the Mip. Then I realized that Pol was very serious about carrying out our little flight of fancy.”

  “You are telling me nothing, V,” Sno said. “Details.”

  “The plan,” Veben said, making air quotes with one hand. The other was still occupied by her glass of whiskey. “The plan, love, was to get onboard this ship, have the captain set up a private little auction, and Pol would sell off his tech plans plus a one-time demonstration on how the tech works.”

  “How?” Sno asked. “The mental lock would stop him.” Sno laughed. “The transfer to Ested. That’s his loophole. He found one.”

  “A highly lucrative one. Although I don’t expect he wanted the transfer to be permanent,” Veben said and shrugged. “We were then supposed to steal away to some remote part of the galaxy to live out the remainder of our years in perfect luxury.”

  “V, you don’t exactly want
for anything now,” Sno said.

  “I don’t exactly own anything, either,” Veben countered. “Other than my villa, I have nothing, love. I live by your generosity, mostly. Your accounts pay for my food and drink. Your memberships are what I use at the clubs on Nab. Your family still has a great amount of cache, love. I have been remembered as a family friend, so I am still invited to events.”

  “You have friends, V,” Sno said. “People invite you because you are you, not because you are associated with me and my family.”

  “Oh, love, you are so cute when you ignore reality,” Veben said. “Denman, what happens if you die?”

  “What?” Sno asked, confused.

  “Who gets your fortune? Who gets the estate house?” Veben pressed. “Who takes over the club memberships? Who is left of the Snos?”

  Sno hadn’t thought of all of that. If he died, there were probably cousins across the galaxy that the fortune would be split amongst. The estate house would probably be sold. Veben wouldn’t get anything and she’d be forced to live her days out in her villa, alone.

  “I’m sorry, V,” Sno said. “I didn’t think of leaving it to you. You’re so much older than me that I figured you’d go first. To be completely honest.”

  “Your job is not one for longevity, love,” Veben said. “I spend most days wondering if I will be notified of your death. I wonder if anyone would be. Fleet Intelligence has been known to expunge records and disavow agents if a mission goes wrong. You could simply not come home and I would be left without a clue as to your fate.”

  “Hells, V, I am sorry,” Sno said. “But all of this?” He held a palm up and gestured at the room, indicating the entire ship and the events that had unfolded since they’d boarded. “You could have talked to me. I’d gladly put you in my will as the sole beneficiary of my estate. You know I don’t care too much for all of it anyway. You should have talked to me, V.”

  “Should have, could have, would have,” Veben replied. “Yet, I did not. I hatched a plan with an old man that has been driven half mad by the dark tech he’s worked with during his life.” Veben sipped her whiskey and smirked. “I do have to admit that plotting with Pol has been quite exhilarating. All the subterfuge and clandestine chats. Is this what your day-to-day job is like, love?”

  Sno pointed at his face. “With a healthy dose of this. Stay out of the espionage business, V. Leave it to the professionals.”

  “Espionage? Oh, love, neither I nor Pol was committing espionage,” Veben said.

  “I believe what you are talking about is the definition of espionage,” Zan said.

  “No one asked you, Dr. Dingus,” Veben snapped. She took a breath and smiled. “Sorry. What I mean is that Pol still intends to give the GF the key to his plans. Or he did. Now I am not sure what he intends to do. Mlo certainly wasn’t part of our arrangements. We were going to Bgreete where we would conduct the auction then slip away quickly since the ship would be so much slower due to that energy vortex.”

  “An energy vortex would be welcome about now,” Sno said. “I’d trade that for this black hole we’re going to eventually be sucked into.”

  “Attention all guests! Attention all guests! Please proceed to the First Class observation deck at once! Again, all guests please proceed to the First Class observation deck at once!”

  “Who is that?” Zan asked, staring up at the ceiling as the announcement was repeated. “That voice sounds familiar.”

  “That is Ested,” Sno said. “But it’s not Ested. Pol is in that body and he’s using the android’s capabilities to take full control of the ship, as well as the bots.”

  “Is he going through with the auction?” Veben asked. “Doesn’t seem like the best timing, if you ask me.”

  “All guests please proceed to the First Class observation deck! That includes you, Agent Prime. And please bring the lovely Ms. Veben Doab with you.”

  “You stay here,” Sno said, pointing at Zan. “You’re crew which means you could be on the bots’ kill list. Best you stay in this stateroom until all of this is settled.”

  “Settled?’ Veben laughed. “How do you propose we settle any of this?”

  “By going to the First Class observation deck as ordered,” Sno said. He offered his arm. “Care to walk with me?”

  “If we must,” Veben said.

  “Good,” Sno said and smiled. The smile faded. “But you’ll want to prepare for what’s in the corridor. It’s not pretty.”

  “Love, I saw the aftermath of the Wendelsohns’ couples cosmetic genetic therapy,” Veben said. “That was not pretty.”

  31.

  Every step of their journey to the First Class observation deck was watched by bots. Maintenance bots, servant bots, cleaning bots, health bots. Nothing but bots from corridor to lift, from lift to corridor. Sno and Veben couldn’t turn around without seeing a bot following close behind.

  “We should have brought the booze,” Veben said as they waited for the final lift to ascend to the First Class observation deck. The only other being in the lift was a shriveled-up Groshnel that was barely taking in enough breath to stay upright. “She could use a good belt or two.”

  “My wife was killed,” the Groshnel whimpered. “The cleaning bot murdered her.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Sno said.

  The lift stopped and the doors opened to show close to every guest standing about on the observation deck. Some were talking to anyone who would listen; many were traumatized like the Groshnel on the lift; all were close to shaking with fear.

  Straight ahead, framed by the massive observation window, was the black hole that Mlo was known for. It was several light years away, but that didn’t mean much. The ship would eventually be sucked into the maw of the black hole, sooner rather than later. They needed to be hundreds of light years away from the black hole for it to not have influence over the Mip.

  From Sno’s experience, they had a day, maybe two. Time did not work right when they were that close to a black hole. For millennia, scientists tried to quantify the power and effects that black holes had. While many working theories had been close, most were shot down when practical experience was applied. A black hole would not be physics’ bitch.

  “Our trajectory shows us to be heading straight for it,” Sno said. “The bridge crew tried to get us out of this situation, but they were butchered by bots before they could adjust course.”

  Several guests close enough to hear Sno gasped in terror. Veben glared at them like they were children afraid of vermin.

  There was a stage set up in front of the observation window. A chime sounded, but no one paid any attention. Except for Sno. He watched closely as a hunched-over Loch came limping out onto the stage. His orange fur was matted to his skull with blood. From the technicolor hues, Sno guessed it was the bridge crew’s blood. Or bloods, as the case was.

  The chime sounded again, yet no one even looked Loch’s way. Sno realized that none of them wanted to see the black hole. If they didn’t look at the black hole, then maybe it wouldn’t exist. The insane wealth of the beings had insulated them from ever dealing with realities they did not want to. Most realities could be bought or sold and tucked away in some closet or hangar or planet. But, a black hole was no gajillionaire’s bitch.

  The chime grew louder and louder until beings were forced to pay attention. Heads looked all about the deck, hunting for the source. Then Loch cleared his throat and the noise was amplified at a level that no one could ignore.

  “Hello,” Loch said, his voice tired and lost. “I am your captain, Rane Loch. I have been asked to explain what will be happening next. Please pay attention as I have also been asked to kill anyone that is not focusing on me and my words.”

  Three dozen bots of various makes and models made themselves known by streaming out of hatches in the walls. The guests were surrounded by machines. The deck went silent. Eyes that had been avoiding looking at the black hole were now pointed in its direction. The new reality of murde
r bots was too much for the guests. They preferred to stare at the deadly bit of nature over the deadly bit of technology.

  “Good,” Loch said. “As some of you may know, I had planned a private auction to take place tomorrow when we were supposed to reach Bgreete. Some of you have prepared your accounts so that credits could be transferred instantly. I do hope that those preparations are still in place. They will need to be for you to survive the next few hours.”

  Loch ran his hand over his face, up across his forehead, then into his fur. He grimaced and yanked his hand back when it got stuck in a thick glob of purple blood. Looking about for something to wipe his hand on, Loch grew slightly alarmed. Then he calmed himself and wiped his hand on his gore-stained uniform.

  Veben chuckled.

  “What was that?” Loch asked, his head snapping up, beady eyes scanning the crowd. “Who laughed at me? I am still captain. I will have you killed for that.”

  There were gasps and murmurs, but no one looked over at Veben to give her away. A couple of the bots inched into the crowd, but they did not make a move to go after or harm Veben. Sno leaned in close.

  “Try not to get us killed, alright?” he asked.

  “No promises, love,” Veben replied. “I’m at that nothing-left-to-lose stage.”

  “I’ll get us out of this, V,” Sno said. “So let me.”

  “You are the pro, love,” Veben said and raised her hand high.

  “V!” Sno snapped, grabbing at her arm.

  Veben yanked free and said, “Excuse me? But will we be served refreshments? I’m quite thirsty and could go for some appetizers too. I haven’t a clue as to the time, but I am certain we have missed at least two meals. Could some of these bots scurry off and fetch some small bites and drinks?”

  Loch stared, wide-eyed. “Wh-wh-wh-what…?”