by Jason Hutt
Max had been gone too long. She was ready to charge out and go find him when two men entered the ship. Reggie had left a comm channel open; she could hear one of the men clear his throat.
“Can I help you, sirs?” Reggie asked.
“We have a situation with Mister Jones,” the shorter of the two men answered, “Is there anyone else aboard this ship?”
“I’m afraid not,” Reggie said, “Is there anything I can do to help?”
The two men looked at each other and smiled. The larger of the two raised his arm. With the camera angle, Hannah couldn’t see what it was. Her display momentarily glitched as a bright pulse arced out and struck Reggie in the chest. The robot collapsed in a heap with tendrils of smoke rising from his midsection.
The audio cut out as the comm channel closed. On the video, she could see one of the men squat down and check something on Reggie’s chest. After a few seconds he shook his head and the two men went toward the cockpit.
Hannah could feel her heart starting to race. She did one last check of Max’s old disruptor rifle. Before stepping out, she took one long measured breath to try and calm her nerves. The closet door slid open with a noisy jerk. Hannah cursed under her breath.
She stepped into the passenger hold. The two men were thirty feet away on the opposite side of the room. She brought the rifle to bear.
The shorter of the two men looked back over his shoulder. His eyes widened. He started to raise his weapon.
Hannah looked him in the eye and pulled the trigger. The shot went over his shoulder and struck the bulkhead at the other end of the room. The man ducked. After the bolt splashed harmlessly against the hull, he locked eyes with Hannah and his lips curled into a snarl.
Hannah lowered her aim; she wouldn’t give the man another warning. He took another step toward her and Hannah pulled the trigger again. A bolt of energy raced across the hold and suddenly a hole opened up in the man’s chest.
The dead man’s partner moved to tap something into his wrist computer. His finger touched the screen and then in the next moment his arm disappeared as he was hit with another blast from Hannah’s disruptor. He looked at Hannah with wild-eyed fear.
Hannah raised the rifle and charged forward; the man was frozen with shock. She swung the butt of the rifle and caught him square in the temple. He collapsed in a heap.
Hannah looked back at the other man, his body sprawled across the deck, and her hands began to tremble. She stood and stared at him. Her mind flashed back to the encounter on Evergreen, to the family who killed themselves because they were afraid of who was coming to get them. The hole in this man’s chest was etched in her mind like the screaming faces of those children.
The urgency of the moment prodded her back into action. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and then rushed over to Reggie. A green indicator light blinked on his chest. She looked over him, unsure of what to do. Max hadn’t left her any instructions for this. Suddenly, Reggie’s optics illuminated and he began to stand himself up.
“Are you okay?” Hannah asked.
“Primary power systems have been disabled,” Reggie said, “Backup systems functioning nominally. I’ve survived worse, but not much.”
Hannah smiled. “Thank God for small favors. What can you tell me?”
“My scans indicate only two other crewmembers aboard. One in the central office; one in the showroom. The Captain is currently in the showroom, though his vital signs indicate that he is unconscious. Sending you the locations now.”
“Did these two sound the alarm?”
“Not that I can tell,” Reggie said, “Though I would guess that you do not have much time.”
“Right,” Hannah said. She checked the rifle’s status indicator as she turned toward the hatchway.
“Their scanners may not detect you,” Reggie said, “But they will pick up the rifle. I recommend a different approach.”
Hannah nodded; Max had told her the same thing hours ago.
“I should be okay with one of theirs,” she said. She walked over to the man she had killed and picked up the pistol he still clutched in his lifeless hand. She grimaced as she pulled the weapon free. She stared at him for another moment.
“Are you okay?” Reggie asked.
Her eyes were eyes locked on the young man’s body. “Yeah,” she said, “Just dandy, thanks.”
“I detect from your vital signs that you are under duress.”
“I just killed a man, Reggie. It’s not something I’m really in the habit of doing.” Hannah knew she needed to move, but she couldn’t turn away.
“It won’t take them long to figure out something has happened,” Reggie said.
Hannah’s lower lip trembled slightly and she clenched her jaw together.
“Can you secure him?” Hannah asked with a slight nod of her head toward the other man.
“Yes,” Reggie said, “It will not be a problem. Are you sure you don’t need help, Miss Cabot? You are exhibiting signs of post-traumatic stress.”
Hannah closed her eyes and shook her head. She took off at a slight jog without saying another word. The jagged, bloody edges of the wound in the dead man’s chest kept flashing through her mind.
As she jogged down the hallway something caught her eye. She stopped as she saw a wooden cane mounted to a safety board. Hannah pulled a wooden cane off the wall and tested the weight. A moment later, she tossed aside the pistol she had confiscated.
Hannah arrived at the control room and marched through the door. The lone operator looked up with disinterest. Her eyes widened as Hannah swung the cane. The swing connected solidly with the other woman’s temple. The young woman fell backwards, her head thunked off the composite material of the deck and she lay there unmoving.
Hannah opened a link to Reggie.
“Reggie, I’ve got the control room. Meet me at the showroom and bring a first aid kit.”
“I will be there momentarily.”
Hannah scanned the room, found a roll of duct tape, and began to tie up the young woman. A minute later, she was outside the showroom door. Reggie was not in sight. She hesitated, looking back down the corridor. The robot should’ve been here by now.
She rocked on her feet, unsure of what to do. With a grimace, she activated the door controls and rushed in. Max was lying unconscious on the floor in the middle of the room; an empty glass lay on the floor next to him. Hannah was poised to strike, but she saw no one else in the room.
Then Hannah felt something press into the small of her back.
“Easy there, little lady,” Rufus said.
Hannah’s shoulders slumped.
“Drop the cane,” he said.
Hannah threw the cane and it clanked off the floor.
“Turn around,” he said.
She turned slowly and looked at the short, unkempt man, her face a picture of aggravation.
Rufus studied her and then started beaming.
“Well, isn’t this my lucky day? You two are going to feed my family for a long time,” Rufus said.
Reggie slammed a mechanical foot on the deck.
Rufus whirled.
Hannah heard a loud zap. Rufus spasmed and then slumped to the ground.
“I could kiss you, Reggie,” Hannah said.
“Not required, Miss,” Reggie said, “I apologize for my delay. Video from the showroom indicated that our quarry had relocated. I wanted to determine his position before advancing.”
“I could learn a thing or two from you,” Hannah said.
“I am not coded to be a teacher, Miss,” Reggie said.
Hannah laughed. She felt almost giddy as the wave of adrenalin started to recede. She took the first aid kit from Reggie and pulled out a patch that she slapped onto Max’s neck.
After another minute, he slowly opened his eyes.
“My head,” Max said with a slight moan. He raised his left arm to shield his eyes from the room’s light.
“You stupid, arrogant asshole,” Hanna
h said. Her cheeks were on fire. “You damn near got us all killed. All because you had to have a damn drink?”
“I’m sorry,” Max said, “Won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t,” she said, “Because next time, I’m not coming to get you. I’ll just leave your sorry ass here.”
“You sound like your mother,” Max said as he rubbed his temples.
“Maybe she knew what she was talking about,” Hannah said.
Max sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, kid. I just needed that drink. I can handle my liquor; he must’ve slipped something in it.”
“Must have been a real challenge for him to overcome your defenses.”
“Enough,” Max said, “What happened?”
“Two of them came aboard the ship, shot Reggie, and were about to do who knows what. We took down those two, one in the control room, and this guy.”
“The ship’s okay?” Max asked.
Hannah nodded.
Max looked to Reggie. “How are you?”
“Primary power circuits need to be replaced. No other damage.”
“Good,” Max said.
“Now what?” Hannah asked.
“Get these guys locked in a store room. Take their wrist computers and give ‘em a box of ration bars. It’s going to take a couple days to do what we need to do – grab a ship, remove transponders, slave the drive to ours, remove any other identifying markings – so we need to get going.”
“And if someone else comes by?”
“We came here for a reason. I doubt they get too many customers. Maybe a sale every week or two if they’re lucky. If anyone does drop in, we’ll just make trails,” Max said, “We shouldn’t push our luck though. Let’s get moving.”
Hannah nodded.
Reggie slung Rufus over his shoulder and the two of them headed for a nearby supply closet.
“Hannah,” Max called out, “Thank you. And I’m sorry. Really.”
“Prove it.”
***
As the shuttle descended to Demeter’s surface, Maria sat smiling staring at the landscape that was revealed below the low cloud cover. Hunter hadn’t budged on the relief bill, so she left as promised. She could imagine he was in his office in the Capitol rattling off just about every one of his backwoods invocations against her.
The shuttle touched down and Maria wasted no time in getting out of the cramped, antiseptic confines of the shuttle. Governor Murphy stood waiting for her just beyond the edge of the landing zone. Maria stepped out of craft and breathed in Demeter’s cool air. She could smell the tiniest hint of honey on the soft, constant breeze. As the engines of the shuttle wound down, her ears were filled with the rustling of the dozens of trees that swayed serenely around the edges of the pad.
“Senator, it’s good to see you. How are things on Earth?” Governor Cillian Murphy asked. Cillian’s bright, white smile contrasted sharply with his ebony skin and close-cropped auburn hair. Together, they quickly walked off the pad and into the utilitarian halls of the prefab building that had been converted into the Governor’s Hall.
“A line of storms is about to blow in from the east,” Cillian said, “You picked a great day to come.”
“I thought there were no bad days on Demeter,” Maria said.
“There aren’t,” he bellowed, “Some days are good for farming and some days are good for taking a break from farming.”
Maria smiled. “It’s good to see you, Cillian.”
He returned the smile, but his eyes betrayed him. “I’m glad to have you back, Maria, but I wish you had come with aid.”
“I’m trying,” she said, “I am. I’ve made a deal with the Church. I expect they’ll start arriving soon.”
“Aye, I’ve seen the notes. I’d like that arrangement a lot better if they left their crosses at home. There’s enough bad tidings around here; I don’t need folks wasting time praying to a god that won’t answer.”
Maria nodded. “I don’t think we’re in any position to turn up our noses at a helping hand.”
“You don’t need to tell me that.” Cillian suddenly stopped and looked at Maria. A sheen glossed over his eyes and she could see the pain and anger that was roiling just below the surface. “Are we alone in this, Maria? Are we done?”
Maria looked down at the floor and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said, “It’s complicated.”
“Everything on Earth is.”
He hesitated a moment, but Maria didn’t feel like elaborating.
“Any luck with easing xenobiology restrictions? Or genetic adaptation restrictions?” Cillian asked.
“Again, trying,” Maria said, “I’m having trouble getting the right leverage.”
Cillian frowned. “Damn conglomerate doesn’t want to let any potential profits slip through their fingers.”
“There are legitimate scientific reasons for not wanting to relax regulations concerning genetic modifications and invasive species,” she said, “We need to make sure that we’re not going to undo something that will come back to bite us.”
“I understand that, Maria, but if you don’t make progress soon. We’re going to be in real trouble. Crop yield projections show we won’t support the population come the fall. We’re going to have to make cuts in rations soon to string things out until next spring.”
“I’m doing everything that I can.”
“It’s not enough, Maria. Effort doesn’t feed families. Hard work doesn’t cure a sick kid. We need real change, not just finger-wagging and blame-casting.”
Maria frowned at him. “I’ve been here for an hour and you’re already telling me I’m not working hard enough. I don’t just sit in my office with my feet up on my desk.”
“I’m sorry, Maria, that you think this is about you. It’s not, not in the least…things have gotten pretty rough here. These people need help not more profit-driven bureaucracy.”
“Don’t you think I’m trying to do that? It’s hard to change laws. I need allies, critical mass of support, public pressure.”
“Or money to buy their support,” Cillian said as he wiped sweat from his dark-skinned brow.
“Lobbyist support doesn’t hurt,” Maria admitted, “But they’re not acting in our favor on this. I think I’ve got some leverage though and I intend to use it.”
“Changes in laws will only matter so much if you don’t change who those laws serve. More or less regulation doesn’t matter if what’s put in place only benefits a select few.” Cillian’s shoulders slumped and he let out a resigned sigh. “People have been having this argument for centuries. This isn't about more or less regulation. This isn’t about colonial rights versus Republic rights. This is about who you serve. Is it the people? Or is it the money?
“Money is our prison. We have made the bars and layered the brick with it. It's all we see as we look out at the landscape. Money can get you things. Money can take you places. Money can make you someone that matters. Money can buy land, people, businesses. We worship those who learned how to turn money into more money.”
“It’ll all be better when you get us back to the barter system,” Maria said.
“Nay, it’ll all be better when everyone just does what I tell them to do.”
Maria laughed. “Cillian, you’re ranting and raving and you haven’t even offered me a drink yet. If you’re trying to get me to want to leave, you’re doing a damn good job of it.”
Cillian sat down heavily in his desk chair. “I’m sorry, Maria. I’m at the end of my rope here. We’re at the end of our rope. Willem makes me take a muscle relaxer every night, if I don’t, I don’t sleep a wink. Apparently, I rant and rave even more when I’m short on winks.”
“Don’t we all,” Maria said, “How is he?”
“He’s okay. He might have to have stomach replacement surgery if his ulcers get worse.”
“You two need a vacation.”
“Only when I can be confident the colony will still be here when I get back,” Cil
lian said. He shook his head and stared out the window at the swaying trees. “Come on, Maria, we’ve haggled enough for one day. Let’s show you about a bit.”
“Sure,” she said with a nod.
Maria was glad for the opportunity to stretch her legs in the short walk to Cillian’s aircar. With a few taps of his finger, Cillian laid in a course and moments later they were in the air, streaking away from the Governor’s Hall.
The aircar raced over rolling hills and through the rocks of a gray-walled canyon. Moments later, they emerged into a wide plain that stretched for as far as the eye could see. The plain was filled with the perfect geometric squares and rectangles of farmland. But instead of the luscious greens or vibrant gold of healthy crops, the fields were littered with the dried and dead husks of plants that would never feed anyone.
“The seeds the Conglomerate provides don’t exactly thrive out here. They do all right for a short period, but they quickly wither. Most farms are being forced to harvest early. The low yield not only takes food off the colonists’ plates, but also hurts the livestock feed which just takes more food off the colonists’ plates.”
“Have you talked to any of their reps about this?”
Cillian laughed. “They don’t seem to like returning my calls. We’re a little low on the priority list.”
“Well, I’ll certainly take it up with them when I get back.”
“You do that,” Cillian said.
“What would you like me to do?” Maria asked.
“It doesn’t matter what you do out there, Maria. The problem is here. You know what they’ll do? They’ll ship us a couple of extra shipments of their lousy seeds, the only seeds we’re legally allowed to use, and expect that to rectify the problem. I’m sure they’ll get paid handsomely for that, too. Then they’ll just shrug their shoulders when we say that our crops are continuing to fail and they’ll blame us for not working hard enough. I’ll call you and complain and you can haggle with them over a nice steak dinner back on Earth.”
Maria fought back the urge to return the barb. “There’s a good reason for restricting what types of biological organisms are introduced into these environments. We don’t want the local ecosystems overrun by foreign invaders.”