I made the conscious effort of placing myself directly in line between the Silfon and the little shop Suzie had taken a liking too. They could very well be here on honest business, but I kept low expectations anyway.
“Hey, uh… Sir?” It was the shop owner. “I think yer girl here wants to buy a few items.” Suzie had an armful of trinkets and was smiling up at me expectantly.
“Yeah, sure. What’s the damage?”
“That depends.uh, Denarii or credits?”
“Denarii international exchange. Gold is gold.” I had checked the local currency values and One Denarius was simply a half-ounce of gold in a coin; it was trading at fifty times the local currency and we’d both be happy with the deal.
“Well for all that…” The tall vendor put a hand on his barely shaven chin and thought for a second. “How does one silver piece sound?”
“Done,” I said, tossing him a coin. It was only a quarter ounce of silver, and a fair deal for the both of us.
Suzie was laughing as she picked up her paper bag full of toys. I hadn’t realized that she didn’t have any. All her old toys and trinkets had been left behind on Yesler; I’m surprised she kept sane with the bland tools and programs I had aboard my ship. I considered getting a single parenting tutorial to download to my (TEMPLEs) implant the next time we hit Imperial space; I had a lot to learn about parenting.
“You hungry?” I asked Suzie as she put on a wrist band toy that played different tunes depending on the color of the objects you pointed it at.
“Yeah.” Her enthusiasm deadened and a serious look came over her. “But… this place can’t have anything good. It smells like old socks.”
I laughed. “They’ll surprise you. Come on, last time I was here there was a great fry place overlooking the banks. We can watch all the different types of people that come here to hide things.”
“Doesn’t that defeat the point of hiding them?” she asked.
“Yeah, it kinda does. But its fun to people-watch.”
A few minutes later we sat on an overhead balcony eating large meat and potato based fry concoctions that I couldn’t pronounce. “I don’t get it,” Suzie said. “Half the people here are rich enough to own their own banks and the other half look like they can barely afford a bath; like that guy.” She pointed ostentatiously at a rather dingy individual as he shuffled along a darker wall. “He could be the reason this whole place stinks all by him self!” I didn’t know weather to gag or laugh, but she was right in either case.
A chill went down my spine. I didn’t even realize I had noticed them, but my subconscious picked up on the presence of the Silfon. They were approaching a little window on the outside of one of the banks with the title ‘Vault Storage and Valuable Protection.’ An original name, but there were so many little banks and locker companies all the good names must have been taken.
Suzie began counting the number of people she thought were too rich to be here on one hand and the number of people she thought were too poor to be here on the other. She used a strange base five counting system on each hand that somehow was working for her. I, however, watched the Silfon as they began arguing with the desk clerk.
The Silfon left his speaker on for normal speech, letting his translation computer overlay English atop the clicks and whistles of their aquatic octopi like mouths. It meant he wasn’t being polite. “Well I don’t care what sort of business, cultural, or Silfon-law claim you think you have on the contents of the box, you can’t have it. We have strict policies that only the box holder or the heir of their estate in the event of death may have access to a box taken out in their name. It’s not just my job on the line, man, it’s the reputation of Crypta. I’m not risking that over some freaky eight legged bully who thinks he’s got something coming to him that he doesn’t!” The clerk was mad now and he slammed a Growler onto the counter. The auto-shotgun may be Imperial in design and make, but the Poxians never passed up on a good item and it’d gained popularity all over Pox Space.
SKEEE!!!- The Silfon screeched, slamming one of its tentacle arm/leg things forward and speared the young man right between the eyes. It wasn’t pretty. It was an instant death, but humans keep a lot of blood in the brain. That, combined with the gray matter and the simple disturbing nature of body parts not existing how they naturally should, turned the bustling little courtyard into a scene from a horror film. I shoved Suzie below the counter and looked straight into her eyes. “Stay here!” She nodded and I pulled out my pistol, working my way along the counter until I had a clear view of the events unfolding at the teller window.
I’d expected the Silfon to flee after committing murder, but then again that would only make sense if the alien had killed the man out of spite rather than the search for whatever was in the box they’d been arguing about. Three Crypta security guards ran into the courtyard. Little Switzerland may be short on combat personnel like most of Pox Space, but they did manage to keep their bank guards well equipped, and they looked like they could handle themselves… against people. I wasn’t sure two green looking young men and a scrappy young woman could take on the two Silfon.
I got up, being sure to keep low and avoid any back looks by either the guards or the Silfon as the two started a game of cat and mouse. The Silfon were racing against the clock to take whatever they’d come for before the rest of the station went on alert and more guards showed up, not to mention their ship getting locked down. The guards, however, were in a race against themselves. If they caught the aliens at the wrong moment they’d be dead meat, ready for the deep freeze of a funeral in space around the asteroid mounted colony.
The three entered the path of devastation the Silfon left as they tore their way through the counter and into the vaults beyond, advancing in staggered progression and keeping each other covered. It would be perfect against bank robbers.
There was another sound of metal tearing and then one of the guards ran into the final vault as I reached the entrance to the bank. “Come out with your, er, things up!” he shouted. A second later there was a dull thwacking sound and he came flying out. He hit the ground hard, gasping with the wind knocked out of him. I gave the kid a quick check and didn’t think he was in any permanent danger; only a few broken bones.
The two Silfon came charging back out, shrieking in their language, which their computers no longer bothered translating for the benefit of the surround humans. A crowd had gathered. It was another interesting trait of people; whenever something bad started happening half of everyone has the good sense to run away. The other half, however, get some wires crossed in the good sense portion of their brain and congregate at scenes of disaster and violence. It took something cataclysmic, like an invasion, to keep those people away.
Unfortunately for the people of Crypta, a bank robbery attracts more people than it terrifies and now I had to worry about the Silfon charging through a few of them and making their innards suddenly become outards. I dropped the standard mag from the base of my pistol and popped in a clip of armor piercing rounds I had in a belt pouch. It may sound like overkill, but it was for situations like these that I always had them on hand.
I waited for the lead Silfon to jump over the counter, sailing right over my nice little piece of cover behind it, and popped two rounds straight up into the creature’s suit’s control computer, dropping it instantly to the floor. The second wasn’t far behind, but it had learned from its comrade’s error and tried to skewer me as it passed over, lashing down with two of its mettle clad tentacles. I twisted and rolled, the shearing metal narrowly missing my side.
I was at an awkward angle but I pulled myself around and opened fire on the creature as it reached the crowd, hitting the base of one of its limbs, eliciting a piercing screech from it. The Silfon didn’t go down like I’d hoped, but the people in its path had wisely run, their personal danger rating having just reached cataclysm level, and no one became an unnecessary casualty.
I got up and ran. “Tell them to lock onto my Cybe
rnetic Link!” I shouted as I passed the few people remaining in the courtyard. I thought I heard someone yell ‘yeah,’ or ‘right’ from behind, but was breathing too heavily and had too much adrenaline in my blood to be sure. What are you doing? I asked myself as I ran, following the path of murky water left by the leaking Silfon’s suit. There’s nothing in this for you. Just let the Silfon get caught on its own and spend another day not-a-shiskabob. The image of my dead friends flashed through my mind again. Oh yeah. I agreed with myself. That’s why.
The water trail I was chasing was getting thicker, which meant one of two things; either the leak was getting bigger, or the creature was slowing down, giving the water more time to drain in each spot it passed. I guessed the latter. The problem with stations and ships were that their insides are almost entirely made up of corridors, courtyards, and various jutting and sunken rooms, leaving a myriad of brilliant places to lay an ambush.
That’s only a problem, of course, if you are the hunter; but right now I was the hunter, and I wasn’t about to walk into anything stupid. I came to a particularly juicy corner ledge combination and took a look at the water on the ground; there was quite a lot of it. Fish face had taken a break here, maybe to wait for me around the corner.
I doubted I’d find an ambush just yet. The chase had just begun and the Silfon were notoriously crafty. It would know I could see its leakage and recognize easy ambush sites. I spun around the corner, keeping extra low and my gun level. I’d misjudged. The Silfon was there, but along the ceiling, anchored with its armored tentacles embedded in the walls.
It sliced down at me as it dropped to the ground, forcing me to backpedal and flail for balance. It clipped my arm with a broad stroke, sending me spinning with the force of the impact. A nearby wall was kind enough to greet me before I hit anything less forgiving, although the stars going through my head and pain running through my everything prevented me from remembering what anything less forgiving than the wall could have been.
I felt myself being lifted off the ground; the Silfon had me by the leg. “Why- D-o y-ou pur-sue?” Its computerized translation asked. I coughed painfully and felt something running up my cheek. I may have been upside down and coughing blood, but I wasn’t out yet.
“You just killed a guy, do I need another reason?” I asked, spitting blood at the alien.
“St-range re-son t-o die,” it said, raising another tentacle to strike. The looming sign of my impending doom reminded my right hand that it still worked, and that there was a gun in it. Without another hesitation I leveled the weapon at the Silfon and squeezed off three rounds. It dropped instantly and the water filling the bulbous pod housing the bulk of the creature rushed out as the semi-transparent material shattered.
I don’t know how long my aching limbs sat there in the alien water, but someone came running down the hall and helped me up. “Captain Grumman?” he asked. “This is the second time we have to thank you for saving our bacon.” He gave me an injector and I gave him a questioning look. “Just stims, to help you get back on your feet; a few medical nanites for good measure.”
I handed it back to him. “I’ve got a nano-plant for a replaced kidney,” I explained. “Can’t risk a nanite rejection.”
“Oh, sorry Sir. Only thing else I’ve got is a power bar.” He offered the food and I stuffed it down.
“What?” I said. “Fighting makes me hungry.” Before I knew it we found ourselves back in the little courtyard. “Boss wanted me to get you back here for when they crack the first one.”
“It didn’t die?” I asked. “I thought those guys needed their life support or they’re toast?”
“Normally, yeah, but we plugged it into a universal server. Need to know why it tried to rob the bank.”
“Makes sense,” I agreed. “But you realize we have to extradite it now. Can’t say we killed it in the act. Now if we were in the Empire…” My voice trailed off as I thought about how unpleasant it would be for a Silfon who committed murder in any Imperial lord’s realm.
“What were you after?” The same official asked the fallen Silfon.
“Wh-at is ours. Bax-ter only bou-ght rights f-or Silfon tech. N-ot others.”
“That’s not how things work and you know it!” I said, stepping on one of its many limp tentacles to reach the official. Suzie appeared from somewhere and grabbed my hand in a vice grip. She didn’t seem overtly afraid, just uncertain and intense. “He said our name,” she said.
“What?” I asked.
“Baxter. He said Baxter.”
“Whose name is on that box?”
“Um, Frederick Baxter,” a man from the bank said. “He delivered it almost a year ago and we haven’t heard back from him since.”
“This kid kin?” The official asked.
“Yeah, his daughter. He just died.”
“St-ole rights. W-e had n-ot a-greed. W-e made mis-take. Silfon does not sh-are. W-e could n-ot…” The computer broke down into static.
“Couldn’t what!?” Suzie screamed. “Daddy didn’t steal! He is a good man!” she screamed in anger. “Evil thing! Daddy was good!” She began hitting one of the tentacles as hard as she could, which wasn’t very hard. “Daddy was good!” She kept repeating, each ensuing sob more muffled. I picked her up and she buried her head in my shoulder.
“She hasn’t really grieved her parents yet,” I explained. “She still has a lot to deal with.”
“Ah,” the man said with understanding. “I’m sorry. In any case, if you’re her guardian, you can sign for this.”
“I am.” I pressed my thumb onto a pad from the bank and sat down on a bench, slowly placing Suzie next to me as her sobs turned to simple exhausted emotion.
The box was a plain bank box, and now that it was signed for would open with a simple pull of the latch. I did so and a strange medical-looking robotic spider sat inside, and activated as the light hit it. A light clicked on and an audio played. “If you are hearing this, then I am most probably dead or have sent you here. In which case you already know what I am about to tell you. My research has been nearing completion but they are getting suspicious. I’ve broken the device into multiple pieces, please reassemble them and secure the plans. We can’t allow them to be destroyed. I’ve put too much of myself into them.”
A click came from the device as the recording ended and a more robotic voice took its place. “Is Frederick Baxter dead?”
“Yes,” I confirmed.
“Is Suzan Baxter alive?”
“Yes,” I confirmed again. Suzie looked up, wiping the tears from her eyes on hearing her name.
“Here I am,” she said.
“Excellent.” The machine responded as its legs activated and it stood. “Prepare for implant.” Before I could reach for the machine it leapt with insectoid and mechanical precision onto Suzan’s forehead and crawled onto the side of her head. A lance shot out from its underbelly and into her temple. Suzie’s back arched and the machine dropped away, inert. I kicked it away and someone slammed a bowl from the restaurant over it, trapping the machine just incase it became active again.
“Suzie can you hear me?” I held her head upright, but she had gone completely limp. “Someone get me a med-scanner!” I screamed.
Suzie groaned and awoke from her blackout. “Oh!” she said, rubbing the side of her head. “That felt weird.” She cocked her head as if listening to something; the same way I’d seen people do when they were trying to get used to templar implants. “Um, I can use a computer by thinking,” she said. “Is that normal?”
“Amazing,” someone said. “It gave her a templar implant right here, without any support or anything. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Don’t activate it,” I said. “We need to get it checked out first.”
“But there’s a message from Daddy. I’ve already opened it.”
“Um, OK,” I said, “but don’t go deeper.”
“He said the implant is made from Imperial Cybernetics and I’ll b
e fine; that it has teacher software and is the Guide for what is coming. What do you think that means?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “But let’s find out.”
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