Trinity: Atom & Go

by Zach Winderl

  ***

  The hum of the pram drifted away. A moment later the internal glow flickered dead, leaving Margo cocooned in darkness. She sat in confusion as the pram settled to the ground with a solid thump.

  “Da?” she called out. The change unnerved her. “Ma?”

  Silence met her queries.

  Not since the night of their flight had Margo gone without the soothing sound of her mother’s voice filling her ears. Now, however, only the muffled murmurs of people beyond the safety of her pram broke the stillness.

  The pram jostled and Margo let out a yelp of fright.

  More dampened sounds met her ears as people argued beyond her confines.

  “Da,” she called louder, banging on the inner shell of the pram.

  The motion returned to the pram, accompanied by sharp taps against the metal outer shell. Margo braced herself as the pram began to rock.

  A sliver of light appeared at the seam as a pry-bar worked into the joint.

  “Da?” Margo leaned down to peer from the crack.

  In the daylight beyond her prison, a pair of worn, work pants came into view. Beside the work pants, a young girl bent her eye to the crack. “We’ll get you out in just a mome,” the girl said and shifted back with a smile. “Just don’t get too close while we work this open.”

  A second pry-bar slipped in, widening the crack enough for Margo to slip her fingers out.

  “Careful, darl,” a rough man’s voice grunted as his calloused fingertips grasped Margo’s and pushed them back into the darkness with as much care as possible. “I don’t want you pinched if these bars slip. I should have this nut cracked in ten ticks. Just need to compress the rod a touch.”

  He grunted again and with a shift of the pry-bars he opened the cover a few more inches. As he did so, several sets of hands gripped the sides and with a heave, the pram split like a ripe persimmon.

  Margo sat blinking in the bright sunlight.

  “Do you know where your parents are?” the young girl asked, extending her arms to Margo.

  “Ma’s the ship.” Margo stood, crossing her arms and scowling at the small crowd of people surrounding her. “Da’s walking.” Margo craned her neck, trying to see past the press of people, searching for Atom.

  The girl shrugged. “I don’t know how to find your Da, but maybe we could track your Ma if we can find your ship.” She leaned to Margo’s eye-level. “Is that what you want?”

  “I want Da,” Margo replied.

  “It’s time to go,” an older woman called out from the edge of the road. “Leave her. Authorities will be along to find her soon enough. We have our own worries with this outage. Last we need is being late for work.”

  The girl held up a pleading finger, placating the grumping woman. “What’s the name of your ship, lovey?”

  “Ticket,” Margo said with a confident nod.

  “The Ticket?” The girl frowned at Margo’s emphatic grin.

  “Ain’t getting much from that,” the woman growled as she grabbed the girl’s arm and hauled her from the press. “There's probably a dozen skiffs in port at this moment with the word ‘ticket’ painted on their bow. Plus, we don’t have time to wait for the power to come back so you can run your search.

  “And,” she said with a cuff that mussed the girl’s neatly parted hair. “We need to get to work. We ain’t got time to waste on no lost lamb.”

  The girl frowned back at Margo as the woman dragged her off.

  Margo waved at the receding forms.

  The girl waved back.

  Margo turned and looked up at the small ring of people gathered about her. For a moment, she scowled at them. Then, crossing her arms in mock gruffery, she thumped down and stared into space.

  Time passed and the crowd dispersed. As they left, one of the workmen hefted the pram and set it up on the sidewalk in the shade, out of the way of the heavy foot-traffic.

  The sun drifted and Margo sat, a still little statue carved from alabaster. In mimicry of her father, she focused her attention on her senses. With half-closed eyes she listened to the pulsing sound of the crowds. She felt the heat of the mountain sun waft into her pram to caress her cheek with soft zephyrs. Lifting her head, she scented heated plastic, industrial lubricant, unwashed bodies, and the distant smell of pine.

  She breathed deep, taking in her surroundings, searching for the faintest trace of the familiar.

  “Ho, lass.” The voice startled her. “I’d guess someone’s lookin’ for ye.”

  Margo opened her eyes, confusion and surprise at the friendly tone the short man used. “Not Da,” she stated as she crossed her arms and glared from her seated position.

  “Cocky brat.” The man laughed and tipped back his hat as he glanced over his shoulder to a pair of hulking shadows who loomed like overgrown boulders. He leaned down and Margo caught a glimpse of a shoulder holster tucked beneath his jacket.

  Margo rose to stand in her pram, but maintained her scowl.

  “I wonder who she belongs to,” the man tugged his thick sideburns as he craned his neck to look up and down the street. “I don’t see a body close enough to call on. Think there’ll be a pot on this one?

  “You know.” He shed his hat and held it over his heart as he preached to his mountainous acolytes. “It would be out of the goodness of me heart that I’d look after a lass who had lost her poor da in all this confusion. And if he just happened to show his duff, I think it would be in the best interest of the lass for there to be a heavy transfer into my coffers.”

  He settled his hat back atop his bald head and smiled down at Margo. “I’ll take you home with us and take care of you until your da floats on back.”

  The man scooped Margo from the pram with a flourish. As she nuzzled against his chest, he grinned. The smile lasted until she slipped a hand into his jacket and pulled the trigger on the gun nestled against his ribs.

  The gun barked.

  One of the hulks grunted as a slug ripped into his thigh.

  Margo jerked her head away from the man’s chest. As she pushed away, she threw her tiny fist of fury into the man’s eye. The fist of a two-year-old missed the bone and flexed the man’s eye like a deflated rubber ball.

  Squealing in pain, he dropped Margo. On the ground, she took the time to kick the man in the ankle and then scurried away.

  As she gained the walkway, she spun and stared down the trio with her best gunslinger glare. In perfect imitation of her father, her hand hovered above her hip. With a lightning-quick motion, her hand snapped up with her finger pistol.

  “Grab her,” the man roared, clutching his eye as Margo scampered into a nearby alley.

  ***

  “How bad is it?”

  The runner bent double, heaving as she fought to regain her breath.

  Atom left her for the moment and wandered over to where the two officers stood at the mouth of the sideroad. They stood with arms crossed, frowning and talking in hushed tones. None of the heavy traffic on the main road attempted to step down the alley.

  “I never got a chance for a proper introduction,” Atom said with the calm of experience. “With the exception of your knee.”

  The female officer glowered and extended a palm. “Mir, Katarina Mir,” the woman said as Atom slapped her palm with a light touch. “And this is Andre Toby. He’s technically my senior, but he’s actually a solid guy. We’re military police, sent to pacify Kafiristan with minimal involvement. We’re basically just observers.”

  “Flynn Mosby, we can’t be looking at anything good here.”

  The man, Toby, shook his head as he patted Atom’s extended hand. “What’s it been, less than five minutes since we took them down.” Toby put his hands on his hips and looked up at the sky. “Some sort of electro pulse to knock oot coms. Although, this seems a touch more powerful.”

  Atom cocked his head and said, “I’m not hearing anything mechanized. She has to have detonated something bigger than a com-bomb. I can’t believe I didn�
�t find any intel on that.”

  The runner staggered up and still panting managed to get words out. “The Adles left a dead-drift EMP net in orbit when they retreated,” she said between deep breaths. “Coms are down. The up-ups haven’t figured out what set it off, but as soon as it popped, the orbital stations got a good look at it. They dispatched an info-torp into the center of our compound, nearly killed Riley, but it got the info in our hands and Pico sent out runners to link with all the patrols.”

  “An orbital net?” Atom joined Toby in frowning up at the sky. “This is ten-fold bigger than a com-bomb.”

  “I couldn’t say anything on those lines,” the woman said with a final deep breath. “I’m just a runner at the moment. You all are to head back to base.” She grinned like a cadaver. “I have the joy of tracking down three more patrols.”

  She nodded once and sprinted out into the busy road.

  Atom sucked in his top lip and looked to Toby and Mir with his eyebrows cocked, then he said, “Looks like we’re in a tough spot. We need to report in, but we’ve a byway full of bodies.”

  “Think we’ll have any more loose drops?” Toby continued staring up into the sky.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Atom glanced up and then back to scowling Mir. “Most ships are shielded, but there are moments of exposure. I would guess a ship needs to be flying with faulty containment for anything to happen.”

  Mir shook her head at the pair and wandered back to the dead. Atom watched her poke around the scene with her pistol in stiff little fingers. Her aim darted from one body to the next, as if she expected their deaths to be a sham and the bodies to leap up in ambush at any moment. She circled once and then backtracked through the field of dead.

  “Go float, Mir,” Toby called to the woman. “Not a thing to be had by burnin’ hot now.”

  “They’re dead,” Atom chipped in. He flipped his coat back and turned his attention to reloading his rail-pistol.

  “How can you be so sure?” Mir called out as she trotted back to join them.

  Toby shrugged and grinned. “Experience.” He watched Atom’s actions with calm approval. “If they were planning something more, they would have done it by now. No sense in lyin’ aboot if they’ve a plan that’ll save blood.”

  Mir deflated. Atom watched her shoulders slump and feet thump, almost like a young child having a silent tantrum.

  “Rookie?” Atom asked in a low voice that wouldn’t carry.

  “Near enough,” Toby said with a nod.

  “What do we do with the bodies?” Mir asked as she holstered her pistol and stepped between the other two.

  “Leave ‘em for now.” Toby looked over the narrow sideroad. “We’ll drag ‘em up on the walk so they don’t impede traffic, but we don’t have a way to call it in and I’m sure not aimin’ to wait around for you to run to the station and back. We’ll make a note and send someone to pick up the bodies.”

  “Suck job with no power,” Mir replied.

  Tucking his pistol back in his holster and dropping his coat, Atom looked back and forth between the two officers. “I’ll take care of it. I put them down. Least I can do is get them out of the way.”

  Toby looked at Atom and crossed his arms, impressed, while Mir just looked relieved.

  Atom straightened his jacket as he headed for the bodies.

  “Kozue,” he whispered. “Kozue, come in. Do you have a read on Margo?”

  Silence met his inquiries.

  A moment of panic set in as Atom grabbed the first body and dragged it over to the side. He took the time to lay the man on his back and fold his hands. He stood over the body for a moment, head bowed as rage and fear and adrenaline surged through his body at the thought of losing contact with Margo.

  He rested on the precipice of abandoning the job and bolting for the One Way Ticket.

  “What are you doing?” Mir asked.

  Atom started, his thoughts disrupted.

  “Moving the bodies,” he said, regaining his composure as Mir stepped closer to watch.

  “Not that I have much against them at this point, but why do you care enough to say a prayer over them?”

  Atom smiled the sad smile of wisdom and said, “You have to learn to fight a war without hate. It is possible to fight as equals and respect your adversary. A fallen enemy is to be respected, because if you hate them, the hate will eventually consume you and destroy you.”

  “Whatever, grandpa.” Mir looked on in disbelief as Atom followed the ritual for each of his fallen foemen.

  “They fought bravely for what they believed,” Atom said as he laid the woman beside her brethren. He bowed his head for a moment and assured himself that Margo had made it safely to the Ticket and did not need his help. “I would have shared a meal with them as easily as a fight.”

  He raised his eyes and walked toward Toby, wiping sweat from his brow that tickled in the cool mountain air. “Back to the depot then?” he asked as he approached the senior officer. “I hope those blasts didn’t knock out the perkolator. I could sure use a cup.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” A look of alarm crossed Toby’s face.

  “Don’t worry, old man,” Mir said with a grin. “I’ll build you a fire.”

  Toby rolled his eyes and turned to the main street.

  “Lead, the way, I’m newer here than either of you,” Atom said. “Even if everything is fried, we can’t be too far off a cup of perk.”

  Following Toby’s lead, Atom and Mir wandered through the aftermath of the EMP blast. While the city showed no physical signs of the blast, other than the occasional accident caused by an out of control vehicle, the citizens pulsed with nervous energy.

  Atom absorbed it all.

  People gathered in the streets, their words and conversations muddling into a background cacophony that almost rivaled the usual noise and hubbub of a port city. The roar of engines had been replaced by the cries of the lost calling out to each other in lieu of the usual com network.

  For the first time in his memory, Atom looked around and saw everyone engaged in direct contact with each other. No pads adorned hands. No projected HUDs wreathed heads. Instead, without the electronic haze of modern society, people spoke with each other face to face. For the moment, word of mouth proved the only form of communication.

  A smile creased Atom’s face as those about him tried to understand their current situation. He listened to wild theories as fear lurked just beneath the conversations of the addled populous.

  “I’m not sure how you recover from this,” Mir said as she glared through the thronging people. “I know most sensitive gear is shielded, but if things can’t connect, it won’t matter.”

  “And the fact that it wasn’t really our network,” Toby laughed.

  “Not our problem,” said Atom as he pulled his dead pad from his pocket. “Think they’ll be able to salvage this?”

  “I’m not sure.” Mir stepped closer to Atom and held out a hand. “Let me take a look.”

  Atom shrugged and turned it over.

  “Now, I’m not exactly an expert, but….” She smashed it against a nearby wall. “But I would have to say, it’s beyond slagged.”

  Mir doubled over laughing. Atom froze, uncertain as to what had just transpired. For a moment, he stood with a dumbfounded expression plastered on his face. Only when he noticed Toby grinning as well did he relax.

  “Oh, your face.” Mir wiped a tear from her eye. “You should see it.”

  “That had all my files, all my evidence.”

  “Everything’s fried,” Toby replied. “Nothing any of us can do. Like Mir said, there’s no way to shield a whole network. Mine’s dead too.” Sighing, he pulled his own pad from his pocket, dropped it on the ground, and stomped on it.

  Squinting up at the sky again, he glanced to his wrist before realizing that his wrist-com had also succumbed to the blast. “We need to move.” He snapped his sleeve down with a frown. “No telling how long it’ll take us to
get back to the depot with things in this chaos. I wonder how they’re going to debrief you. With no systems to pull up, you might have to wait a few days before they can start reconstructing our grid.”

  “It would probably be easier if they just popped him up to the platform,” Mir said. “They’ll have all the files on hand up there. You and I saw his creds and can rough vet him down here.

  “In the meantime, I need to make a quick stop.” She jerked her thumb at a public restroom where a hunched, old woman sat keeping watch.

  “Just make it quick,” Toby replied. “I want to figure out where we are needed.”

  “I won’t even sit.” Mir chuckled as she tossed a ko in the woman’s plastic bowl. As she headed for the door, a middle-aged woman with several bags of produce waddled towards the restroom with a panicked look.

  “I’ll pay on the way out, dear,” she called out to the elder caretaker as she cut in front of Mir, almost losing her groceries in her haste. “Excuse me, emergency,” she said to Mir as she disappeared inside.

  Mir rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh as she cast a glance back to Toby. “That might be motivation to be faster than planned.” She followed the woman into the restroom, leaving Atom and Toby in awkward silence.

  “So, what’s your game?” Toby eased out of the foot-traffic to lean against the wall of the public facilities.

  “Most of it was top end.” Atom joined Toby and watched the passersby with a curious eye. “We knew this planet would be the lynchpin for the system because of the ore coming out. The uppers slipped me in a few weeks before our incursion into the system in the hopes to prevent something like this from happening.”

  “Fat job you did of that.”

  “Could have been worse. Those could have been nukes in orbit. They could have glassed this planet and left the system useless.

  “Problem is,” Atom puzzled. “The attack tells us two things. One, the Adles know the worth of the ore coming off this planet. They aren’t stupid. Two, they’re in this for the long haul. EMPs in orbit mean they plan on coming back. Nukes would have made it useless. EMPs make it challenging.”

  “Not to mention, nuke use on population is banned under the accords.”