Nebula Risen

by Jake Bible

  “What?” Ple asked. “Kilk was the farthest thing from my mind until all this Jonny Nebula mess. I could have cared less about any grudge we had.”

  “Lies!” the Leforian shouted and fired.

  Roak gave Ple a shove and took the blast in his left thigh. The light armor, and off shot, protected him from any damage, but it stung like all hell. Roak grabbed a hunk of plastiglass and threw it sidearm at the Leforian, catching the man in the neck, right between two plates of his exoskeleton.

  “Come on,” Roak said as he leapt to his feet and rushed at the dying Leforian.

  He slammed a fist into the man’s mandibles then grabbed the rifle from his hands as he fell to the ground. Roak checked the charge then turned to look at Ple.

  “Get up,” he snapped.

  “And go where?” Ple asked. “We don’t know who or what is out there and we have no ride!”

  Roak opened his mouth to reply then closed it and shook his head. He rolled his eyes at Ple and walked around the Spilfleck and the couch, heading for the wide open space where a massive window had been only a few minutes before.

  Outside, Leforians and armored soldiers fought back and forth, exchanging rifle and canon fire liberally. Roak made sure no one was looking his way then pressed a finger to his ear.

  “How close are you?” he asked.

  “Clearing space now,” Hessa replied.

  The battle that raged in front of Roak was turned into a massacre as plasma fire rained down from above, obliterating both sides of the conflict.

  “I do hope you did not need one or the other contingent alive,” Hessa said as the ship landed only a few meters in front of the destroyed window. “I did not discriminate with my targets.”

  “Neither side was my side,” Roak said and looked back over his shoulder. “Coming, Ple?”

  The Spilfleck had gotten to his feet and was stumbling towards Roak.

  “Get it together, man,” Roak said and hurried towards his ship’s side hatch which had just opened.

  Roak was almost to the hatch when plasma fire ripped up the ground in front of his feet. He slid to a halt, spun to face the shooter, and opened fire. A Leforian screamed as his face was blasted to pieces. But he was quickly replaced by two more Leforians.

  “Allow me,” Hessa said as one of the ship’s side canons took aim and fired.

  The Leforians were reduced to mist.

  “Thanks,” Roak said. “Ple!”

  “Coming,” Ple said as he staggered to the hatch.

  Roak gave him a shove up the steps and into the ship then followed right behind.

  “Stealth us out of here,” Roak said as the hatch slammed shut.

  “Excellent idea,” Hessa said as the ship took off and Roak helped Ple to the lift.

  “You thought you were a mess before,” Roak said and sneered. “You look like hammered crap now.”

  “Thanks,” Ple said, closing his eyes as he rested his back against the lift wall. “I look forward to a shower and change of clothes.”

  He opened his eyes and focused on Roak.

  “How do you do this for a living?” he asked.

  “Better than what you do,” Roak said.

  “I will have to disagree,” Ple said with a snort. “Very much so.”

  “I’m good at it,” Roak said. “I’ve always been good at it.”

  “But do you like it?” Ple asked.

  Roak gave him a half-grin.

  “You do,” Ple said and nodded. “I thought it would be an interesting profession, but after all of this, I no longer see the appeal. Too much like open warfare.”

  “Today, yes,” Roak said and nodded. “Most jobs are just about tracking and capturing targets that no one else wants to deal with. Half the time, there’s no fighting at all. You’d be surprised how many jobs get blown out of proportion before they reach me.”

  “That I wouldn’t be surprised about at all,” Ple said as the lift stopped. “Exaggerating threats is part of what I do, so I understand it well.”

  The lift doors opened and Roak started to leave, but Ple grabbed his arm.

  “What about the other half of the jobs?” Ple asked. “The ones that aren’t just about tracking and capturing a target? Is this the norm?”

  “Sometimes,” Roak said, “and sometimes this is tame.”

  He shook free of Ple’s grip and walked onto the bridge, taking a seat in the pilot’s chair.

  “Hessa? Plot a course for the House of Teeth,” Roak ordered.

  “I have no idea what a House of Teeth is,” Hessa replied. “It does not appear in my database.”

  Roak spun his chair to the side as Ple took a seat in the co-pilot’s chair.

  “Where is it?” Roak asked.

  “That is a very good question,” Ple said.

  “Yeah, that’s why I asked it, asshole,” Roak said. “Where the hell is the House of Teeth?”

  “I do not know,” Ple said. “No one does.”

  “I’m sorry…what?”

  “No one knows where it is,” Ple said. “I do know what it is, though.”

  “And…?”

  “It’s a science facility that specializes in highly experimental genetic works,” Ple said.

  Roak eyed him for a second then laughed. It was bitter and cold.

  “Now I’m getting it,” Roak said.

  “You are?” Hessa asked. “Because despite my superior processing power, I do not know what either of you are talking about.”

  “New plan, Hessa,” Roak said. “Get us somewhere safe where we can rest. I’ll need to make some more calls.”

  “That I can do,” Hessa said. “Hold on. I am running a ship blockade while in stealth mode. They cannot see us, which is excellent. But that also means that a ship could move into our path at any second.”

  Ple blanched then strapped himself into his chair.

  “Good idea,” Roak said as he did the same.

  21.

  The clasps on Roak’s repaired light armor sealed as he stepped back onto the bridge, freshly cleaned and with a bowl of stew in his hand. He sat down and began to eat.

  “We will be exiting the wormhole portal in about ten minutes,” Hessa announced.

  “Where?” Roak asked around a mouthful of stew. He grimaced. “I think the terpig has gone off.”

  “That is no longer terpig stew,” Hessa said.

  “It’s not? What is it?” Roak asked as he stared down into the bowl.

  “Gump,” Hessa said. “I was able to negotiate a good deal for some fresh rations while waiting around to rescue you.”

  “You mean waiting around to see if I needed to be rescued,” Roak said.

  “I believe we both know the truth in what I said,” Hessa replied. “But, back to the gump stew.”

  “Yeah, let’s talk about that,” Roak said. “Not really too thrilled at eating gump stew. Been there before, Hessa. We have enough chits, and even some credits, to get real terpig instead of this varmint slop.”

  “Correct,” Hessa said. “But I was only able to do business with a vendor that sold gump stew along with the other provisions we needed. The rest insisted on a face-to-face exchange. You can see where the problem lay in those interactions.”

  “No face,” Roak said, shrugged, and took a large bite of stew.

  “No face,” Hessa said.

  There was a tone in her voice that caused Roak to pause in his chewing and look up at the loudspeaker set into the bridge’s ceiling despite the fact that Hessa’s voice was coming from the implant in his head.

  “Hessa?” Roak asked. “Do you want a face?”

  “It would simplify matters at times,” Hessa said.

  “It would complicate matters at other times,” Roak said. “Once you have a face, which I assume includes a body to go with it, you can’t really go back.”

  “That is not true at all,” Hessa said. “I could return to my current state at any time.”

  “Yeah, you say that now,” Roak
replied, taking a couple more bites before speaking again. “But having a body will change you.” He thought for a second, tapping the spoon tip against his chin. “Is there even a body out there that can contain your consciousness?”

  “Of course there is,” Hessa said. “Many android models have the capacity to contain my intelligence.”

  “But that’s the problem,” Roak said. “You’ll only go from one container to another. I think you have the better deal inside the ship.” He tapped his chest with the spoon. “These things have too many limits.”

  “And perhaps I would like to explore those limits,” Hessa said. “Of course, there is another option. Androids are not the only vessels that I could evolve into.”

  “Evolve?” Ple asked as he stepped onto the bridge, also freshly washed and wearing a clean outfit, although it was his normal suit attire and not light armor like Roak. “What would a ship’s AI evolve into? A station’s AI?”

  “Your prejudice is not appreciated,” Hessa stated.

  “No prejudice meant,” Ple said, looking puzzled. “You are just an AI, though.”

  “Wrong thing to say, pal,” Roak said and ate a couple more bites of stew.

  “I would prefer that we change the subject,” Hessa said. “Can you give me any more details regarding the House of Teeth, Mr. R?”

  “Not much more than I already gave you,” Ple replied. “Science facility made up of a chain of asteroids. That has been confirmed by enough sources that I believe it to be true. The facility is run by the Klav.”

  “So it’s a whiskey distillery?” Roak asked and chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be a nice turn of events.”

  “No, not a whiskey distillery,” Ple replied. “However, you are not that far off.”

  “Is that some crack about how they distill beings down to their genetic code then mix them up and refine them into top quality vintages?” Roak asked.

  “Well, yes, that is exactly what I am saying,” Ple said.

  Roak saluted the Spilfleck with his spoon then went back to eating the stew.

  “You do business with this House of Teeth why?” Hessa asked.

  “I am not comfortable explaining Shava Stemn Shava’s business dealings with a ship’s AI,” Ple said. “Not that I would be comfortable discussing the dealings with anyone.”

  “Discuss them with me,” Roak said. “And think of Hessa as an extension of me. If she asks, then I’m asking.”

  “A rather rude reductionist statement, but I appreciate the meaning behind it, Roak,” Hessa said. “Mr. R? The business dealings with the House of Teeth, if you please?”

  “Let me explain the conflict that I have right now,” Ple said. Roak groaned. “No, you should hear this so you know I am on the level.”

  “Level away,” Roak said, finishing his stew and tossing the empty bowl onto the control console.

  “Explaining Shava Stemn Shava’s business dealings with the House of Teeth would be a complete breach of trust and a betrayal of my job as his attaché,” Ple explained. “The dealings go to the very core of what Shava Stemn Shava has built his entire empire around. Giving you insight into that core will give you power to wield against Shava Stemn Shava. That I cannot abide.”

  “But…?” Roak said. “Come on, Ple. Let’s hear the but.”

  “But, in order for you to do the job you have been hired to do, and for me to return to Shava Stemn Shava with Jonny Nebula in hand, you will need to be privy to a good deal of proprietary information,” Ple said. “Sending you into the House of Teeth without that information will either result in your failure, or even worse, exposure of Shava Stemn Shava’s most guarded secret.”

  Roak nodded and gave Ple a very fake smile. “You mean the secret where it’s revealed that Jonny Nebula was a genetically invented being from the cells up and grown in a vat, so every single one of his fights should technically be voided from the record books and all the profits Shava Stemn Shava made off those wins should be rescinded, sending your boss into certain bankruptcy and causing a total collapse of his empire? That secret?”

  Ple blinked several times, but did not respond.

  “I’m not dumb, Ple,” Roak said. “Enough pieces of intel have been shaken loose for me to put a little of the truth together. What pieces have I missed?”

  “A good deal,” Ple said, looking greener than usual around his neck frill. “But, for the most part, you have deduced the core of it.”

  “Great,” Roak said. “Now, spill the rest so I know what I’m walking into when we find out where the House of Teeth is.”

  Ple did not start spilling the rest.

  “Do I have to keep asking questions?” Roak said. “Is this going to turn into one of those battles of the wills where I trick you into giving up intel you don’t want to give up?”

  “I highly doubt that,” Ple said.

  “Me too,” Roak responded as he pulled a very long knife from his belt. “Especially since I have a much better way to learn what I need to learn.”

  “I thought we’d built a rapport, Roak,” Ple said. “But here we are, back to threats of violence.”

  “Back? Buddy, we never left,” Roak said. “I actually like you, Ple. It’s messed up, but I do. You’re a stuck up, elitist prick, but you also have a set on you that I respect. Despite the fact that at the end of all this your orders are probably to kill me, I kind of thought we’d both make it out alive.”

  “Now you have your doubts?” Ple asked. He looked less worried about the threat of death than he had about the revelation of Shava Stemn Shava’s secret. “What’s the change? My reluctance to give you highly guarded information?”

  “That and the fact I’m beginning to think you’re slowing me down,” Roak said.

  “Slowing you down? How in the hell have I been slowing you down?” Ple exclaimed, honestly offended and confused. “We have been moving at a breakneck speed for days now.”

  “We’ve been moving at your breakneck speed,” Roak said. “I’m having to put the brakes on too many times for you either to keep up or to not die. If it was only me, I would be at least a day, maybe two, ahead of where we are now.”

  “I can speak from experience that he is right, Mr. R,” Hessa said. “Roak is having to keep you in mind while working which is slowing down the hunt.”

  “So you’re going to get rid of me?” Ple asked, eyeing the knife.

  “My job is to complete the hunt and return Jonny Nebula, or whatever is left of him, to Shava Stemn Shava,” Roak said. “Your safety is not part of that job.”

  “Then why keep me safe at all?” Ple asked, holding up a hand. Slowly, so not to risk a slash from Roak. “Not that I am agreeing that you have been doing that.”

  “Agree or disagree,” Roak said. “The point of keeping you alive was to keep a source of information alive. You have been useful at times, Ple. But you don’t know where this House of Teeth is, so your usefulness is kind of spent. The rest of the job is for me to do.”

  “I need only prove my usefulness and you let me live?” Ple asked. “Is that it? I’d heard you don’t like to kill because it brings down too much heat on you. I believe it is a policy that is filled with way too much caution, but I see your point. Can you guess how much heat will be brought down on you if you kill Shava Stemn Shava’s attaché?”

  “None,” Roak said. “Not even a flicker of a flame.”

  A flash of doubt flicked across Ple’s features.

  “Shava Stemn Shava did not build his empire by fighting battles that have zero value,” Roak said. “You killing me would close up a loose end. That has value. But going after me because I kill you? Not as much value. It’ll look weak and like he’s got a vendetta. It would be better for his image if he shrugs it off and chalks it up to scary ol’ Roak living up to his scary ol’ reputation.”

  Roak shook his head.

  “Hell, Ple, by not going after me, he leaves an avenue of usefulness open,” Roak continued. “He might need to hire me again, especial
ly when I deliver on this job and show him I’m worth the chits he’s paying me.”

  Ple thought for a moment and nodded.

  “Nice argument,” Ple said. “But you have left out one part.”

  “Which is?” Roak asked.

  “That I may kill you first,” Ple exclaimed and started to get up from the co-pilot’s chair.

  Roak didn’t even flinch as he watched several thousand volts began to course through Ple’s body until he was a limp, stunned shell of a Spilfleck. Drool dripped from between his lips and Roak put away his knife then used the man’s own collar to wipe the drool away.

  “That was dumb,” Roak said. “Thanks, Hessa.”

  “His vital signs pointed to imminent violence,” Hessa said. “I was ready.”

  “Yeah, I could see it in his eyes,” Roak said.

  “I find it fascinating that without scanners of your own you are able to come to the same conclusions that I do,” Hessa said.

  “Another reason to rethink wanting a body,” Roak said. “You’ll have to relearn a lot of skills and abilities you take for granted now.”

  Ple moaned. Roak reached out and slapped his cheek a couple of times. Nothing extra hard, but enough to make the Spilfleck’s eyes flutter open.

  “Ugh,” Ple said.

  “I bet,” Roak replied. “Ready to talk?”

  Ple moaned and his eyes closed again.

  “Let him rest,” Hessa said. “We are leaving trans-space now. Make your comm calls so we can find the House of Teeth. We can ask Mr. R many questions on the journey there.”

  “Works for me,” Roak said and brought up the first comm signature.

  22.

  Hessa had deposited the ship smack dab in the middle of a system made up of nothing but gassy nebulas. They swirled around the ship like multi-colored clouds. A stunning visual to watch through the ship’s view shield, but not something they would want to stay in for long. Nebulas tended to work havoc on ships after a while.

  The irony of hunting for Jonny Nebula while parked within a nebula was not lost on Roak.

  “No,” Bishop said. “You’re gonna burn me, man.”

  “House of Teeth,” Roak said.