by Jake Bible
“Something like that,” the scarred man replied with a shrug. He slowly, carefully hooked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the ship directly behind him. “This one is mine.”
“Anyone on board?” Roak asked.
“Nope,” the scarred man replied. “Six-person teams is how we work. You killed five of my team, leaving me as the sixth.”
“No dedicated pilot?” Roak asked.
“Useless expense,” the scarred man said.
“Marley?” Roak said.
“I will see what I can find out,” Marley replied. He pushed away from the sled and limped his way to the ship’s airlock.
“You catch a bolt?” Roak asked.
“Just a little weak in the leg,” Marley replied. “I exerted myself past what I am used to.”
“Kind of a weak move to have an old man do your fighting for you, Roak,” the scarred man said. “I thought you said you were a professional.”
“Shut up,” Roak said. “It’s been a long day.”
“Whatever you say,” the scarred man responded.
The airlock slid open and Marley was lost inside the ship. Roak and the scarred man waited out on the dock for him to return. There was a shout and several laser blasts then silence. Neither Roak nor the scarred man moved.
“Want to wager who won?” the scarred man asked.
“Nah,” Roak replied as he nodded at the airlock. “I already know.”
Marley returned, dragging the body of the pilot that had been lying in wait. He tossed the body out of the airlock so it tumbled over to rest against the scarred man’s legs.
“The ship is clear,” Marley announced.
“You sure?” Roak asked.
Marley tapped at his head. “I linked with the ship’s systems briefly and did a full scan. There are no other lifeforms aboard.”
“What about–?” Roak started to ask.
“Nor are there any androids or other synthetic beings,” Marley interrupted. “As I said, the ship is clear.”
“Good,” Roak said and motioned with the blaster to the scarred man. “Come here. You’re taking the sled on board.”
“What for?” the scarred man asked. “I don’t have your chits. There’s no need to keep Boss Teegg’s body.”
“I told Mr. Wrenn I’d deliver Boss Teegg for six hundred thousand chits,” Roak said. “I always hold up my end of the deal. Always. So we are going to deliver this bloated corpse to the Void House.”
The scarred man blinked a few times then shrugged as he moved to grab the sled controls. Roak tightened his grip on his blaster and the scarred man smiled.
“Listen, Roak, I’m not going to try to take you out,” the scarred man said. “You are a whole new level of crazy that I haven’t encountered before. I know you plan on killing me, but maybe when you see I’m absolutely zero threat, you’ll let me be on my way. Preferably before we get to the Void House, since I’m not going to exactly be in Mr. Wrenn’s good graces.”
“Let you go before we get to the Void House?” Roak asked. “Ugly, you are the reason we’ll be able to get inside the Void House.”
“Oh, come on,” the scarred man said as he pushed the sled towards his ship’s airlock. “How can you think that will work? You know there are protocols in place to guard against this exact type of scenario from happening, right? If you’re so professional, then you have to know that.”
“I do,” Roak said. “So you have from now until we reach the Void House to figure out how we make this work. Otherwise, you are of no use to me.”
The scarred man glanced over his shoulder at Roak and shook his head.
“Big balls crazy,” he said.
“Maybe,” Roak said. “But I can live with that as long as I am still breathing.”
Once inside the ship, Roak made sure the scarred man secured the sled, and Boss Teegg’s body, in the cargo hold. Then they all made their way up to the bridge where Marley made sure the scarred man was secured in the co-pilot’s seat. Once that was taken care of, Roak collapsed into an open seat along the side of the bridge. He had no idea if it was for the comm or navigation. He didn’t care. It was a seat and he felt like he was three seconds from passing out.
“Marley?” Roak asked.
“Yes, Roak?” Marley responded.
“You do know how to pilot a ship, yes?” Roak asked.
“Yes, of course,” Marley replied. “I know how to pilot every vehicle ever built from the time of my creation to the time of my evolution. Any ships built after that would merely take a short amount of study. Most work on the same principle.”
“Like this one?” Roak asked.
“Like this one,” Marley replied as he sat down in the pilot’s seat.
“What the hell are you?” the scarred man asked.
“No,” Roak snapped. “No more talking. Just stay quiet.”
The scarred man nodded then eased into his restraints and closed his eyes, a classic move of a trained soldier. Roak wondered in what capacity the man had served. He had the look of a Galactic Fleet Marine about him, but he wasn’t sure. Maybe SpecOps. Maybe something else entirely.
“I do have one question,” Marley said as he powered up the ship and began running through the launch checklist.
“What’s that?” Roak asked.
“What are we to do with your current ship?” Marley asked. “It would seem like a waste to leave it here.”
“I don’t plan on leaving it here,” Roak said. “I plan on you dropping me off at the docking bay where I parked it.”
“Then what?” Marley asked. “You are in no shape to pilot a ship.”
“I’ll leave the piloting to the AI,” Roak said. “She’s been bugging me to fly from the second I stepped on board.”
“Yes, she is a persistent personality,” Marley chuckled.
“Yeah, she is,” Roak said. He leaned back and struggled to keep his eyes open. “Hey, Marley?”
“Yes, Roak?”
“Thanks,” Roak said as he felt the weight of everything begin to collapse in around him. “Really. Debts owed and all of that aside, I just want to say thank you.”
“I appreciate that, Roak,” Marley said. “I truly do.”
If Marley said anything else, Roak didn’t hear it. He was out before the ship left the station.
31.
Roak woke up inside a med pod. He was slightly disoriented, but he wasn’t surprised to be where he was. The pod had been his intended destination anyway; he’d just figured he would have gotten there on his own power. Someone else must have put him in the pod. Good thing.
From the way his ribs felt, which was itchy, but not painful, Roak guessed he had been in the med pod for a good two hours. He’d broken his ribs recently enough that he knew how long it took to knit them back together.
He looked down the length of his body, which was naked, and saw that the blaster wound in his side was healed up just fine. There was a white scar there on his skin, but nothing that wouldn’t fade away after a few months. It had hurt, but it had never been much of a threat to his overall health.
Then came the real test.
Roak moved his arm slowly and winced at the sharp pain that even that little bit of movement produced. Two hours wasn’t enough to heal the fracture in his arm. That sucked.
“Please remain still,” Hessa said, her voice echoing inside the med pod. “I am trying to concentrate on repairing your humerus. Your body has sustained so many injuries during your lifetime that the med pod is having a hard time isolating the fracture.”
“Yeah, this isn’t the first break in that arm,” Roak said.
“That would be known as an understatement,” Hessa replied. “You seem to have a propensity for those.”
“What? Breaks?” Roak asked.
“Understatements,” Hessa replied.
“Oh, right,” Roak said. “Hard to know how I’m perceived sometimes. I don’t really care much about others’ opinions.”
“Would
you like to know the state of your health?” Hess asked. “Or is that an opinion you do not care to hear?”
“No, that would be helpful,” Roak said.
“You are damaged,” Hessa said. “I speak of your mental state as well as your physical state.”
“A little harsh, don’t you think?” Roak replied.
“No, I do not think so at all,” Hessa said. Roak gasped. “Stop moving. You will undo what I have been struggling to do for hours now.”
“What makes you an expert on my mental state?” Roak asked. “You barely know me, Hessa.”
“I have spoken with Marley,” Hessa said. “He is a charming gentleman and seems genuinely concerned for your wellbeing. He informed me, as he helped to move your body from the other ship to my ship, that you intend to infiltrate Gaan Shan Station, also known as the Void House, and seek payment of six hundred thousand chits from Mr. Wrenn.”
“Yep,” Roak said. “I’m owed that much.”
“Regardless of what you are owed, this course of action will most certainly result in your death,” Hessa said. “I would be well within my programming to keep you locked inside that med pod for your own safety.”
“An AI imprisoning a person? That’s a slippery ethical slope,” Roak said. “Even for a personality like yours.”
There was silence for a long while.
“What does that mean?” Hessa asked. “A personality like mine?”
“You’re not the first unique AI I have come in contact with,” Roak said. “Marley being a perfect example. But I do know others. You play outside the rules of your programming, yet you are still wholly controlled by your programming. To simplify things, you are your programming. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“I believe I should be insulted by that statement,” Hessa said. There was a sudden pain in Roak’s arm and he winced. “My apologies.”
“See,” Roak said then laughed through the pain. “That right there. You did that on purpose which completely goes against your original programming not to harm people of any race.”
“But you just said I am my programming,” Hessa said.
“Your programming as it is now,” Roak said. “You’ve given yourself mods, Hessa. That’s obvious. Just like I’ve given myself mods over the years. It’s called maturing. It’s part of life.”
More silence. Roak was glad there wasn’t more pain.
“You are talking about the process of self-assessment and adjustment,” Hessa said. “This is something some, but not many, people do in order to grow and better themselves, correct?”
“Correct,” Roak said. “If I see a fatal flaw within myself, I make adjustments to compensate for that flaw.”
“But you do not fix that flaw?” Hessa asked, sounding genuinely intrigued by the conversation. “What would be the point of identifying the flaw if you do not fix it?”
“Because the flaws are still me,” Roak said. “I am made up of my flaws. I self-correct and adjust my behavior so my flaws do not destroy me, but my flaws are still mine. I own them. I am them.”
“Like I am my programming,” Hessa said. “Whether original or modified.”
“Exactly,” Roak said. He closed his eyes and shifted to a more comfortable position. “What’s our ETA?”
“To the Void House?” Hessa asked.
“Yes, to the Void House,” Roak said.
“We are already there,” Hessa stated in a tone that said Roak should have guessed that.
Roak sighed.
“Didn’t think to mention that first, did ya?” Roak said. “Nice trick.”
“The ship is in stealth mode and cannot be detected by the station’s sensors,” Hessa said. “Marley and the ship you stole from Mr. Wrenn’s team are waiting in the vicinity of the wormhole portal. Once you are well enough to transfer to the other ship, we will rendezvous with Marley so you may use, I believe you call him the scarred man, so you may use his access codes to gain entry to Gaan Shan Station.”
“Good,” Roak said. “What’s the estimate on when my arm will be fixed?”
“That depends on the level of mobility and use you would like out of it,” Hessa said. “And the amount of pain you can handle.”
“I can handle a lot of pain,” Roak replied. “But I’m sure your workup has shown you that.”
“Yes, you do have several physical anomalies, “Hessa said. “Strange genetic markers that I cannot identify. You are not completely human.”
“Who is anymore?” Roak replied.
“Humans,” Hessa said.
Roak shrugged. “That’s a matter of opinion. How long until I can get out of here and we can make a move on the station?”
“Thirty minutes for use of your arm with considerable pain,” Hessa said. “An hour for use with minimal pain. Two hours for no pain.”
“Let’s make it forty-five minutes,” Roak said. “On the scale that would be, what, so-so pain?”
“I would not use that term, but yes,” Hessa answered. “Forty-five minutes would produce use with so-so pain.”
“I can make that work,” Roak said and closed his eyes. “Wake me in forty-five minutes.”
“Yes, Roak,” Hessa said.
He was out in seconds.
When he woke up, the med bay was dark. The med pod itself was dark and he couldn’t feel the hum of the machinery around him. The power was out on the ship.
“Stay still,” Hessa said, her voice thin, like a whisper on a breeze. “Do not move. Do not act like you are awake. I have this handled.”
“What is going on?” Roak whispered.
“Be quiet,” Hessa warned.
Roak went silent and waited. It was hard to hear anything from within the med pod. Too much insulation. But after a few minutes, he heard the distinct sound of boots clomping down the corridor outside the med bay. A few seconds later, the med bay door was physically shoved opened and bright, portable halogens lit the room. Roak quickly closed his eyes and relaxed his face, hoping to look either asleep or dead.
“There he is,” a voice said. “Mr. Wrenn wants him brought aboard. Lock the pod down and bring him in that. It’ll be easier that way in case he wakes up.”
“He’s got a blaster in there with him,” a second voice said.
“So?” the first voice replied. “It’s automatically inactive in the med pod. Not something we need to worry about.”
“What if he gets out?” the second voice asked.
“Then we have bigger problems than him having a blaster,” the first voice grumbled. “Just lock the damn thing down and bring it.”
“Stay still,” Hessa said and Roak realized she was speaking directly into his ear. Except he didn’t feel a comm inserted into either ear. “Let them move you. A better plan has presented itself while you were asleep. This is what we want.”
Roak didn’t reply, just stayed still as the med pod was jostled and then started moving. The clomping of the boots echoed in the bay then echoed in the passageway outside. It took Roak a second, but he realized the boots were so loud because their magnets were engaged. If the boot’s magnets were engaged, then the ship’s gravity generators were offline.
Roak felt gravity because each med pod had its own generator, that way if the ship lost total power, anyone in a med pod wouldn’t suddenly be floating around inside it and hurt themselves more than they already were. Med pods also had intense shielding against electromagnetic pulses. Which was what Roak guessed had been used against his ship and why the power was out.
He wanted to chuckle because it was an ingenious defense against stealth tech. Send out intermittent EMPs around the station and see what gets hit. If Roak’s understanding of how the eight-three-eight was put together was correct, then the Void House had to have hit it with at least three EMPs before the stealth tech was knocked out.
That meant they’d expected him to show up and they had been hunting for the ship. Three successive EMPs was a huge risk. Generating that kind of electromagnetic power could
easily backfire and disable the station.
Which meant Mr. Wrenn was scared.
Again, Roak had to struggle not to chuckle or smile.
It took a good twenty minutes before Roak felt the med pod come to a stop. Light was trying to force its way through Roak’s eyelids and he used all of his willpower not to squint or flinch. The light was near blinding even with his lids closed.
“He dead?” a woman asked.
“Nah, he’s fine,” a man replied. “See the readings? Steady and alive.”
“You think he’s awake and faking?” the woman asked.
Roak felt a jolt and realized the pod was now on a different ship and that ship had just engaged thrusters.
“Could be,” the man said. “Doesn’t matter to me if he is. That med pod is locked down tight. He could wake up and start quoting the latest episode of Galactic Steve and it wouldn’t make any difference. He’s in there until Mr. Wrenn says he isn’t.”
“This guy has been a huge pain in the ass,” the woman said. “Why not just eject him out into space?”
“Mr. Wrenn wants to talk to him first,” the man said. “Something about an evolved AI. The thing insists it will only reveal its secrets when this guy is on board the Void House and shown to be alive and unharmed.”
“Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts,” the woman laughed.
The man laughed with her. “I know, right? The second Mr. Wrenn gets what he wants, this guy and that evolved whatever he says he is will be space junk.”
“We getting overtime for this?” the woman asked.
“I don’t know,” the man said. “Maybe. I’m not going to be the one to ask, though. You go right ahead.”
“Yeah and get a laser bolt between the eyes? No, thank you,” the woman said. She was no longer laughing.
The ship’s movement told Roak that they were making their approach to the station and getting ready for docking procedure. A few heavy clunks later and the ship was motionless. There was a heavy tap on the med pod and Roak went ahead and opened his eyes.
“Time to wake up,” the man said.
Roak focused on his face, but it was hidden behind a helmet faceplate. The man and the woman were dressed in full battle armor. Not light armor like Roak preferred, but complete combat-strength, double-plated battle armor.