by Jaxon Reed
“I’m fine. I need some coffee, though.”
I gained my balance, slowly walked back into Professor Kim’s lecture hall to my seat. On the floor nearby, my cup had a bullet hole through it and coffee was splattered everywhere.
“Freakin’ terrorists!”
-+-
On my way back to the dorm, I stopped at one of the ubiquitous food and drink carts dotting campus. This one had a sign that read, “Carl’s Campus Coffee Cart Company,” and offered a variety of caffeinated beverages at different prices.
It was more like a small hut on wheels than a cart. A logo that read, “5C” perched on top of the hut, and all the cups had “5C” printed on them.
The proprietor was an older gentleman. Dark skin, gray hair. Indeterminate ancestry. Like most of the rest of us over the centuries we’ve been colonizing planets, he had every race in his lineage.
As veterans of the Revolution, New Texas A&M paid for our tuition and living expenses. This included three meals a day in the dining hall. I also had a small expense account for purchasing extra things, like snacks. Right now I needed another coffee since the terrorists destroyed my last cup.
I looked at the board listing the Coffee Cart’s prices. One item stuck out: “Black Gold, C2.00”
“What’s Black Gold?”
“It’s from New Indonesia. Got it in on the last spaceship that docked before Janus Twenty-five closed. Best coffee in the string!”
“Two credits? Good grief! Just give me a regular coffee for a quarter credit.”
About that moment, the vid screen in the hut switched to a reporter nearby, outside the lecture hall.
“We’re just learning that one of the heroes of Redwood, Marcus Savitch, single handedly took down both gunmen! Sir, tell us again what you witnessed in the lecture hall.”
The cam panned over to a student I recognized from Professor Kim’s class.
“This GP started shooting up the room, and he was yelling, ‘Long live the State!’ And he was just shooting everybody at random! And Marcus Savitch stood up and rushed him. And the GP just kept shooting and shooting him. And Savitch, he just ignored the bullets, man! He kept after that guy and beat the ever lovin’ snot out of him! Then he picked up the gun and went and shot down the other one! I saw it all, man! I saw it all! Marcus Savitch saved us!”
“And there you have it, live from an eyewitness. Marcus Savitch has saved an untold number of lives today by his heroic actions . . .”
I tuned out the rest of it. I waved for the old guy’s attention.
“A quarter credit coffee, please.”
His eyes grew big.
“You’re Marcus Savitch!”
“A quarter credit coffee, please. Regular. No cream or sugar.”
“No! You deserve the best!”
He picked up a cup and poured out of the spigot marked “Black Gold.”
“I don’t want a two credit coffee.”
“It’s on the house, Mr. Savitch. Take it.”
I thought, good grief! I tried again to give him money. He refused. I tried again. He refused again. I moved to swipe my hand on the pay palm reader anyway. He pulled the palm reader away.
Finally I gave up and walked off with the two credit cup of coffee. The free two credit cup of coffee.
I sipped it. My eyebrows shot up.
“Say, this is really good.”
-+-
I got back to the dorm and walked into the common room I shared with the triplets. Two doorways on the left led to Jeremy and Jacob’s rooms. Two on the right led to mine and Jason’s. The four bedrooms opened to a modest living area with a small kitchen, table, couch, chairs, and a large vid screen.
The screen had the news on. A breathless reporter repeated the latest concerning my “heroics.”
“Hey, Killer!”
“Shut up, Jason.”
“Dude, that was pretty awesome. How you feeling? Sore?”
“A little. The bullets were bigger than the load bots’. A Medic said they were ten millimeters instead of nine. Plus, they were at close range. But, I’ve had a couple liters of blood and I think I’ll make it.”
The outer door whisked open and Dee Dee rushed in. I’d programmed in her palm print so she could and come and go whenever. She was only the one. Girls had actually become something of a problem. Not all of them, but some tended to stalk us, the triplets especially. Those three had a knack for attracting all sorts of female attention, not all of it welcome.
“I just heard! Are you okay? Did you really get shot?”
“Yeah, it’s nothing.”
She pulled up my shirt and examined the fast patches on my side in front and back. Her hair was jet black, but her skin was pale white, an unusual combination. I found her exceptionally beautiful.
“Did that take out any organs?”
“Dunno. I did feel my left lung deflate from this shot,” I pointed to my chest. “But it seems fine now.”
I drew in a deep breath to demonstrate.
“We still need to get you checked out.”
“I’m fine.”
“Incoming call.”
The newscast on the vid screen disappeared, replaced by the image of Counselor Kotov, our student advisor. Brown eyes, blonde hair pulled back into a tight pony tail. She looked around the room, noting everybody present.
“Marcus? Diane? You’re needed in the President’s office as soon as possible.”
-+-
“. . . And on behalf of a grateful University, not to mention on behalf of the families of all those saved . . .”
I tuned out President Montoya’s speech. It had obviously been written quickly, and had an element of political motivation like most of his public comments. The gunmen were indeed former Galactic Police, he informed the world, with a long record of atrocities before, during, and after the University Revolution. The President harped on that, then went on to praise me again at length, to the point I grew uncomfortable.
“. . . the heroics displayed today by this fine young man will long be remembered . . .”
Yada yada yada.
When it was finally over, the press scrambled for position, trying to grab his attention, shouting out questions. He held up his hands, palms open.
“No questions at this time. As we learn more about the situation, we’ll share it with you. Thank you.”
He left the conference room and made his way back to the Presidential office suite where Dee Dee, Kotov and I waited, watching the news on a vid screen.
He entered, sat down in a plush leather chair near us, stretching out his long legs. He played quarterback for New Texas A&M back in the day, and he’d maintained his athletic build over the years.
Dee Dee and I sat on a couch, while Kotov sat on another leather chair.
“Thank you, Marcus. What you did today was very brave.”
I waved it off.
“No problem.”
“I’m glad you were there and able to put a stop to the carnage. But, this does open up a host of other issues.”
He and Kotov locked eyes.
“Military?”
“Yes, Counselor. Military.”
“I don’t understand,” Dee Dee said. “What’s the military got to do with it?”
“Marcus survived the shooting, Diane. Not only did he survive getting shot three times at close range, he disarmed one assailant while he was getting shot, disabled him, then hunted down and killed the other assailant. Then he walked out of the building without a scratch.”
“That’s not exactly true, sir. I’m still sore.”
“It’s close enough. That sort of performance is not normal. It’s not . . .”
“Human?”
“That’s not a polite way to put it, but yes. It’s not human. We’ve been able to keep you two here and offer you a somewhat normal college experience so far. Your hero status from actions taken at the Battle of Redwood helped a lot, and we managed to gain considerable good publicity while at the
same time trying to shield you from the worst of things, politically.
“But with today’s events, we have new problems. Now the Military is expressing interest in . . . cultivating your abilities.”
I understood.
“They want to make super soldiers.”
He nodded glumly.
“The idea has been broached. We’re fighting it. And by ‘we’ I mean me and most of the Faculty Senate. But the idea is out there. The Board of Regents will take it up at their next meeting.”
“That’s just great. I’m not going to stick around and become a military lab rat.”
“Don’t they remember what happened under the State?” Dee Dee said. “They don’t know how people may respond to hematophagia. We’ve been able to get away with it here on campus because of our ‘hero status’ as you put it, but elsewhere there’s no doubt someone with hematophagia would be treated with fear and loathing. And some of that is for good reason. Many of the Scientists who were infected by Fred grew violent in their quest for blood.”
I nodded, thinking back to the first person who discovered my secret: Peterson. He immediately attacked me when he saw me drinking blood. Some people have a visceral reaction to vampires. And our kind, who get desperate enough for blood, do indeed tend toward violence. I thought of the man who bit me on Orange after knocking me on the head with an ax, and about the stories of other Scientists who had been bitten by Fred, the hematophagous monkey on Redwood. Some of the stories were rather gruesome. The State had eliminated as many vampires as they could find. As far as we knew, Dee Dee and I were the only ones left.
“Sir, we haven’t been violent, but then we receive blood on a regular basis from the lab here. If they turn a horde of ‘vampire warriors’ loose, we have no idea what they might do, or how the general public may respond to them. And it’s not something that can be turned off and put in storage. It’s a permanent condition with a risk of spreading. You might get to the point where more and more hematophagous people need more and more blood until there’s nobody left.”
President Montoya nodded.
“I agree, Diane. These are some of the arguments I’ll be using in the Board meeting. It’s too soon, and we still know too little. And as an old friend and classmate of your father’s, I want to assure you that y’all will not become ‘military lab rats’ as long as I’m around.”
I noted the promise was filled with some qualifications and omissions. He did not promise that our “capabilities,” if you want to call them that, would not be used by the Military. It did seem like he was opposed to the general idea of our exploitation by the Military, though. That, at least, felt comforting.
He stood up, and moved behind his desk.
“Now, before this morning’s incident I planned on inviting you in here anyway, Marcus. There are some legal issues pertaining to you requiring a meeting with the University Solicitor.”
He waved at the vid screen, establishing a comm link.
“Send in Solicitor Hu, please.”
The door opened and a small, dark man dressed in an expensive business suit carrying a small briefcase entered the room. His eyes swept the area, as if making a mental note of its layout and the people present.
President Montoya introduced us, then opened the door again.
“Ms. Kotov, Ms. Fremont, let’s leave Mr. Savitch and Solicitor Hu alone for a while so they can conduct their business.”
Dee Dee and I looked at each other.
“It’s okay. Dee Dee can stay.”
“This concerns only you, Mr. Savitch.”
“That’s okay, Solicitor Hu. I want her to stay.”
The President nodded. He and Counselor Kotov left the room. The door whisked shut behind them.
Solicitor Hu placed his briefcase on the table before us. He opened it, and took out a portable hologram projector.
“This has to do with the reading of a last will and testament. Do you understand the concept of attorney-client privilege, Mr. Savitch?”
“I think so.”
“It means I won’t be sharing this information with others. Under the University charter, the Solicitor can serve as Attorney for students and faculty. My office is handling this will, and we will assist you in managing the estate you’ve inherited in whatever means you deem necessary. We’re here for any legal guidance needed.”
He placed the projector on the table and looked at us.
“Ready?”
We nodded.
He pressed a button on the projector, and a holographic image of Professor Kalinowski appeared.
“Hello, m’boy!”
Chapter Two
“If you’re seeing this, it means I didn’t make it through the battle. I’m uploading a new will to Lonestar One tonight, sending it to Solicitor Hu’s office at New Texas A and M. All the documents are signed, witnessed and sealed. This recording will be my final thoughts and comments to you.”
Dee Dee and I exchanged glances. She looked incredulous. I looked back at the hologram, which by some quirk of fate or Hu’s placement of the projector had the Professor’s image locking eyes with mine. He sat from where he’d recorded it, months ago on Redwood, and he was on eye level with me. It was almost as if his ghost sat in the room with us. I guess, in a way, his ghost really was there.
“M’boy, you brought me out of a deep hole. Eighteen years I worked out in those fields alone, until you showed up. I met the Rangers from time to time as they made deliveries to the experiment station, but mostly I was alone. I liked it that way.
“Then you came along. I’m pretty sure nobody ever escaped from Redwood City before. It quickly became apparent you were no ordinary Servant. Getting to know you over the weeks we spent together was some of the most enjoyable time I’ve had. You made me realize what it’s like to be human again, boy.
“When you offered to give me a ride back to the Ranger station, I said yes because it was you doing the asking. I don’t think I would have come here had Colt or Milton asked me.
“I’ve made plenty of mistakes in my life. I think now, looking back, withdrawing from everybody was one of my biggest mistakes. I regret it deeply.”
He paused and looked off in the distance for a moment. I felt some tears welling up. I looked at Dee Dee and saw her wiping her eyes. Professor Kalinowski had withdrawn from the main group of researchers on Redwood because he loved Dee Dee’s adoptive mom, who’d married Dee Dee’s adoptive father instead.
“Anyhow, what’s done is done. If I don’t survive the coming days, or whenever I die whether it’s now or later, I want you to have what I’ve got. I don’t have any other family, so you don’t have to worry about that. It’s just me. The only thing you won’t get is a modest donation to New Texas A and M. Everything else is yours.
“Now, it’s quite a bit, m’boy. If you’re hearing this, let me be the first to tell you: you’re rich! I had quite a few holdings before coming here to Redwood. Some of that is in New Hong Kong, and I don’t know if or when you’ll be able to get at it with this current revolution business going on. But while on Redwood, I’ve built up quite the holdings back in New Texas over the years.
“Let me give you an idea, in round numbers, of what we’re talking about. You know cigars are an illegal luxury item. And you know that Redwood cigars are widely considered the best in the string. I generally receive about forty credits per cigar that gets shipped to New Texas. Let that number sink in for a moment. Now, figure twenty cigars per box. Twenty times forty is eight hundred credits per box of cigars.”
Dee Dee and I exchanged glances again. That’s a lot of money, I thought, and considered how many two credit cups of high-end coffee a box of cigars would buy.
“There’s one pallet of cigars per shipment. On a pallet, I’ll start a stack with one layer of ten boxes by ten. So a hundred boxes, right? That’s eighty thousand credits. Then I’ll stack them ten high. So add another zero. I get eight hundred thousand credits per shipment.
“No
w, some years I’ve gotten ten shipments out, smuggling them onto spaceships bound for New Texas. Some years, I’ve only gotten seven or eight. But on average, I’ve gotten nine shipments a year out, and I’ve been doing that for the last fifteen years since getting my tobacco farm fully operational.
“So how’s your math? Eight hundred thousand credits a shipment. Nine shipments a year. Seven point two million credits a year for fifteen years.”
Dee Dee and I were wide-eyed now. As if sensing our astonishment, Kalinowski barked in laughter.
“One hundred and eight million credits! And that’s before compounding interest. It’s been well-invested over the years back on New Texas.
“Now, don’t get mad when you see my twenty million credit gift to A and M. I suspect you’ll be giving a large alumni donation to them too, one day. Yup, I’ve made a personal recommendation for your acceptance. I’m sure they’ll take you, especially after the fighting is over.
“Now, don’t become some trust baby. Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be a productive member of society. Go out there and become somebody. Do something with your life. Just don’t worry about money. Let my investment group continue managing the fortune. Believe it or not, it’s easy to burn through a large amount of money in a short amount of time, if you’re not careful.
“With that in mind, I’ve instructed them to set up a spending account which Solicitor Hu will tell you about. This is money that can go for everyday expenses. Money you can blow, essentially. But the bulk of the fortune will remain under the investment group’s control until you graduate from New Texas A and M or turn twenty-five, whichever comes first.
“I imagine you’ll graduate and move into a new assignment before you turn twenty-five. That would be good. You need to be a productive member of society. But I hope that after the bulk of the fortune is turned over to you that you continue being productive.
“The important thing is not to fall in love with money. ‘The love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.’ There is nothing more pathetic than a man who lives a life consumed with pursuing more and more money. He’ll never get enough.