Ken pushed past, “Beware, it could be a trick, but I doubt it.”
Janae stepped back and kept the revenger aimed at Butterfield’s head. Ken put his own revenger away, pulled off his spacesuit’s gloves, and stepped up to Butterfield. Reaching out, he tenderly placed his hand on her brown hair, “Butterfield? Who is this? What has happened?”
As his human contact registered in Butterfield’s grief-stricken mind, she relaxed back against his hand, ever so slightly, and the rocking stopped. She snuffled up a breath and spoke, “They… killed him.” Then she broke down again and sobbed.
“Who? Your parent?” the word felt odd to Ken, “Froncek?”
Butterfield suddenly rose up, and Janae nearly shot her, but Ken was in the way. “Yes, my Daddy’s name… is… was Froncek… he was coming… for me.” She took a deep intake of air, and then exhaled a long and lasting breath. “Just kill me now, and be done with it. I fell into your trap.”
Ken stroked her hair gently, “We did not do this.”
Butterfield turned around, “No need for more lies, now. Just get it over with.”
Ken looked back at Janae, “You have her weapon, right?”
“I have a weapon,” Janae spat, emphasizing the “a” in her statement, “She probably has another ready to use.”
Butterfield raised both her hands, and they were empty, and gloveless. Ken looked at them, and then around at the cabin. It was a wreck, and the green spacesuit gloves Butterfield had been wearing were haphazardly off to the side. The light coming in from the viewports, and the yawning holes in the side were sufficient to show nothing inside the shuttle had escaped the devastation. He looked down at the figure in the pilot’s seat, and through the bubble helmet saw a dead man, gray hair cut short, his skin shrunken like a deflated balloon, and yet a white blaze of color still decorated across his face. His eyes were missing, and then Ken realized what the pink residue was inside the cabin. It was where the man’s body fluids had been sucked out through a tiny tear in the spacesuit, and splattered across the cabin. His entire body had been sucked of all its fluids. Ken’s mind tried to make sense of it, as spacesuits should have compartments to seal off and prevent such occurrences, but this green suit had failed. The restraining straps were still locked around the spacesuit, the main latch buckle was crushed into a fused mass of metal. That prevented the person from unstrapping himself, while a piece of shrapnel from that impact had created a tiny tear. The tear was not enough for full or explosive decompression, but just a microscopic tear which did not seal, but allowed the liquids of Froncek’s body to be drained in an excruciatingly painful manner out his side. The pink residue was his lost body fluids. Thus, his eyes had collapsed in on themselves.
Ken wanted to vomit as his eyes took in all the fine layer of pink staining, comprehending what it meant in terms of human suffering.
“Butterfield, we did not do this,” Janae said, “step outside of here.”
“As you wish,” Butterfield said with resignation, and holding both palms up and toward Janae. She stepped past Ken, who was pale with revulsion, and looked right at Janae. “My Daddy deserved better.”
Butterfield crouched down, stepped through the gap in the shuttle fuselage, and then slipped on the wing. She caught herself, barely, before she fell to the deck. “This is coming off now!” Butterfield then angrily shed off the parts of the spacesuit. “It did not do Daddy any good, nor the dozen fighters in his crew.” She tossed the boots away with repugnance, “Magnetic grippers failing, suit pressures lost, compartmentalization compromised, and Daddy dead. He had messaged me that he was coming to get me from that home of the religious freaks, but when I lost contact with him, I figured riding back with you two was my best option.” After she shed all the spacesuit, she sat down. All she as wearing was basic gray coveralls, and shoes. She looked vastly different, smaller, less powerful, and younger, than she had before. She was slimmer than Janae and lighter in build. The lack of facial ornamentation was striking.
Janae stood on the wing, her own boots gripping perfectly. She still aimed the revenger at Butterfield, but was softening a bit to the woman’s plight.
Ken spoke up as he climbed down, “There were a dozen others in this shuttle?”
“Approximately, but Daddy did not say how many. He usually flew with his personal guard, and this is his personal shuttle. They all must have died when the microparticles shattered the shuttle. I suppose none of them were strapped in. Daddy always let his fighters be as free as possible in his shuttle, but he liked being strapped into the pilot’s chair. Daddy always liked the black look of his shuttle. He made many trips in this. Now, he is dead… miserable suit failure, but his shuttle should never have been subject to the microparticle turret’s fire. I am sure Diego is behind this. He did to my Daddy, what he did to me. His day of recompense is coming.”
Janae stepped down from the wing, “You owe us. Today is your day of recompense—to use your phrasing—so you will now lead us to that Hanger 5.”
Butterfield looked up, and just nodded, “That makes sense. Kill me after you get what you want, right? That being the case, why should I help you at all? What is in it for me?”
Janae considered, then looked at Ken.
Ken answered, “Take us to Hanger 5, and maybe we will find some reason to let you live.” He felt like a scoundrel, but his words were true. He wanted to find some reason not to kill Butterfield, but he questioned if Janae would be able to be convinced.
“I agree with Ken. If we can get our gear back, and get to our scout, maybe… some arrangement can be made.”
“Arrangements? Ha! When you get your information, then I die. I know how this works. How about, you let me go here, and now, and I will send you a message about how to get to Hanger 5?”
“Never going to happen,” Janae snapped back. “If you leave here now, you will bring back some security automacube, and soldiers, and you would hunt us down and kill us.”
“You think more tactically than those religious freaks in Christianopolis,” Butterfield met her eyes, and they locked eye contact for a long time. Neither one would break off. Neither said anything, and neither trusted the other.
Finally, Ken intervened, “There is another option. Butterfield, if this Diego is behind killing your Daddy and his fighters, guards, whatever you call them, crashed your shuttle, and then Diego destroyed this black one, well… Why? Why is he doing that? You both are on the same side, right? Hate tants? Kill them in that repugnant bullfighting thing, right? So, why does Diego try to kill you and murder your Daddy? I thought you were in charge, or close to it. It seems to me that, you, Butterfield, face a greater threat to yourself than us. We are not trying to terrorize you, right?”
“You are holding a weapon on me, but, I agree. Yes. I know that is right,” Butterfield answered. “Diego is making a play to be the ear of the Benefactor. I was in his way, and, by coming to get me, so was my Daddy, not that Daddy cared about politics, he left that to me after Mommy died, and yes, we use tants in our ceremonies.”
Janae’s eyes beamed in anger, and she said, “If we contacted Diego and told him where you were, locked you in some room, what would happen? How long would your life be, then?” Janae’s conscience reared up as she said that, and Jubal’s smug image flashed in her mind. “No! I will not be a coercive monster. I am not an animal. Ken? This woman is a genuine threat to us, but I will not turn into a Jubal or Larson to handle it. I will not! I cannot! You must decide what to do.”
“Well… so… but… I am not sure what to do,” Ken stammered.
“If I take you to Hanger 5, will you let me use my multiceiver? I could summon some of my people who are still loyal to me. We could arrange a place and time for me to be picked up. You could fly off in that scout of yours and land somewhere else. Go back to those naked religious freaks. I suppose your craft is capable of that? Or much more? Faster-than-light journeys?”
“We do not know, our systems were… damaged,” Ken rep
lied, hesitating to discuss Kimberly. “We will talk as we go. Lead us onward.”
Butterfield stood up, “If you are not going to just kill me here, may I get my equipment from the spacesuit, and that cargo area?”
“Halt. I have your energy weapon, so, Ken, you go through that green spacesuit and get whatever tools are there. She may be hiding another weapon. Butterfield, you remain where I can see you, and make no sudden moves,” Janae replied, but again she was feeling like she was mimicking Larson or Jubal and those behaviors and attitudes—displayed in herself—affronted her far more than she expected.
“I will comply. There are no other weapons in the spacesuit, but there is my multiceiver, tracker—which connects into the multiceiver—and my countermand device. I will need those to take you to Hanger 5, unless you want me to use regular channels? Of course, if I use regular channels, Diego will know, and well, when he comes, or what troops or automacubes he sends to get me, would probably by as lethal for you as it is for me.” Butterfield paused a bit and looked at the ceiling. “Right now, you are holding that weapon on me. I have an uncertain future. My Daddy is dead. Maybe I will take my chances with Diego coming here. He is as much a threat to you as to me, at least from how I understand this situation.”
Ken did find several devices in her spacesuit, and retrieved one more from the cargo area of the runabout. “No weapons, but I am not sure what all she can do with these.”
“My countermand device will override any technological items; automacubes, control pads, interfaces, elevators, those kinds of things, up to, but not including artificial intelligence systems. It could be adapted, if I put it directly on a central memory core, to greatly influence an AI. It is worthless to you, unless you know the unlock code, which you do not.”
“Our technology might easily crack your security,” Janae threatened.
“Go ahead and try. I am not overly impressed with your technology.” Again, Butterfield just stared at Janae who returned her glare with equal fervor. “Without me, who knows what might get set off, or who might end up listening in. You have had some issues with eavesdroppers, and spies, right? Secret messages coming to you from unknown sources? Do you want to risk more exposure? Be my guest.”
“None of us want someone else chasing us. When we need it, we will let you use it, but only under our supervision. Do I make myself clear?” Ken said and raised to his full height. “I want to get along with you, but I have seen what you do people—like tants—and others. I do not trust you. You will do it our way, or not at all.”
“Oh, such manliness. Be still my fluttering heart. You are still pretty, even when you are trying to be intimidating,” Butterfield smiled at Ken. She blew him a kiss. “Well, I suppose we probably should leave this shuttle bay.” Her countenance shifted, her eyes teared up, as she looked at the black shuttle. “Daddy has gone ahead, and now is dead. Apis tend to him, care for him, and thank you, that he did not die a hero.” Those last phrases she said as a quiet ritual, her head bowed low. Then she just marched off.
“Wait for us,” Janae called.
“Shoot me if you must, but I will lead you to Hanger 5.”
Ken grabbed up the gear, but had little room in his arms, and the spacesuit he was wearing was not ideal for additional equipment. “Butterfield, you should carry this stuff of yours.”
“I can only use it under your supervision, doing it your way, so no, you carry it, pretty man.” There were no tones of weeping in her voice, but she did wipe her eyes as she walked.
Janae sprinted up and got right in front of Butterfield. Aiming the revenger at her face, Janae said, “Is this how you want it?” Again, Janae considered how young—almost innocent—Butterfield looked without the facial decorations. “I could shoot you right now.”
“Janae, you need to get to Hanger 5, and I need to stay alive. If you kill me now, we both lose, and I do not think you really want to lose, do you?” She then reached out and just slowly pushed Janae’s revenger muzzle off to the side. “See, now we have clarified our positions. I will take you to Hanger 5. You think on whether or not you are a… what is your term? Oh, yes, a crazed animal thing. If you are a crazed animal, you will just kill me.”
“How dare you?” Janae began, but then stopped her words. Taking a deep breath, she changed the subject, “Do you need your spacesuit?”
“No, that old green one was ruined by the septic radiation. Daddy’s spacesuit failed him when he needed it. I have no plans to go outside again. I am home. But you two, do you have a home? I wonder? Therefore, to protect your fragile selves, you should probably bring your bubble helmets, for those brown spacesuits seem immune to septic radiation. Nicest high-tech stuff Christianopolis has produced. A thicker skin on that spacesuit, that is obvious.” The mocking tone faded away. “If Daddy had had… Hard to find equipment like that everywhere. Come, come, put that weapon away, and go get the helmet. Each of you, scurry and fetch! I will wait while you do. Then I will take you to Hanger 5.”
“You would just run away.” Janae did not put the revenger away, but did pick up her bubble helmet, and clicked it onto a stud on the back of spacesuit. She wondered if walking all the way to the other hanger bay in a spacesuit was wise, and debated in her mind about finding something to use as a restraint for Butterfield.
Ken found that carrying the equipment, including the bubble helmet was nearly impossible, and most of his gear was inaccessible. So, Ken called over to Janae, “I cannot do all of this in a spacesuit. I need my equipment, and the RAM suit will be sufficient, right? We can leave the spacesuits here with that runabout, right?”
“Pretty, and bright,” Butterfield taunted, “Oh, Ken, you are such a flirt. Janae? You might want to listen to that man, he is a credit to his gender. Not all stallions like him have a brain between their ears. Then again, some activities do not need a brain, am I right?”
“I could gag you, and you would still be able to lead us,” Janae stated, but did not give more vent to her anger. Something about Butterfield and seeing her grieving over her Daddy, was percolating in Janae’s thoughts. She responded to Ken, “Dump the spacesuits. I agree. Me first. Draw your revenger, and do not let Butterfield escape, or try something, while I slip out of my spacesuit. I will pack it into the runabout.”
“I understand,” Ken replied, and set down the gear and drew out his revenger. He aimed it at Butterfield, but her lack of weapons, lack of clothing other than the gray coveralls, and her clear face made her look less like a threat than ever. Her slightly parted and pouty lips caught his gaze.
“Oh, Ken, she trusts you to watch me, how cute,” Butterfield said, “While she stores those fancy new spacesuits. Wise, choice. Will I sprint off, or try to seduce you with my nakedness?” She gestured demurely at her face. “I see how you look at me, now.”
“Just remain where you are,” Ken said.
Moments later, Janae came back. “Now, you go store your spacesuit. The rear storage compartment has room for both. I tossed that green one Butterfield used over by the black shuttle. I will guard her now.”
“Goodbye, Ken,” Butterfield waved with just her fingers. “Next time we are alone, it will be for a longer, a more… intimate time.”
“You are quite annoying, you know that, right?” Janae asked as she looked down the sights of the revenger.
“Jealousy is hard for you. I can respect that. You are with someone and then a more alluring person comes along and…”
“Shut up, or I will gag you!”
Butterfield just grinned and said, “Or, you could put me through your teleporter, but wait, it did not work, did it?”
Janae’s eyes grew wide. She racked her brain for who she had told about the teleportation system they had set up at homebase. She could not recall all she had said in Christianopolis, and before that, who had she spoken with in the Isle of Pines. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what Butterfield knew, and how.
“Oh, dear, confused and perplexed?” Butterfield gigg
led a bit. “I have ways of knowing things. Should I take you to homebase, or Hanger 5? One is closer to here than the other. Which would serve your purposes better?”
“I doubt you are genuinely interested in our purposes,” Janae responded, but was still baffled by what she was hearing.
Ken came back, and he moved like he was glad to be out of the spacesuit. Shrugging his shoulders, he caught Janae’s look, “Janae? What has she said to you?”
“She mentioned the teleporter, and homebase.”
Ken stepped over close to Janae, and they whispered to one another, Janae’s eyes never leaving Butterfield. Neither one could exactly recall who all had known, whether it was in the medical clinic, or with Ape, or on the boats, or on the bus. Their odyssey was too convoluted for them to remember exactly who knew what, and how Butterfield would have known.
Clapping her hands together, Butterfield announced, “It is rude to whisper secrets like young lovers, and we should be on our way. Hanger 9 here, oh, yes, this is Hanger 9, and while it is seldom used, I recognized it right away. It is possible that Diego noticed the activation of the hanger bay doors, or the automated rescue of Daddy’s shuttle, so, unless you want to surrender to me now, I suggest we depart. Which destination do you want? Your FTL scout, or your teleportation set-up?”
Terror on the Trailblazer Page 21