by Jason Hutt
“Ha. There’s nothing more foreign than us. I think that ship has already gone through the wormhole.”
“So, what then? What’s the alternative? Free reign to just do here what we did to Earth? Preserving biodiversity is key as is protecting native species.”
“Not everything has to be so absolute. There are shades of gray in everything. Our very presence here has altered the local environment. Hell, one of the first things we do is set up air processors to make the climate more fitting our tastes. We can’t pretend that doesn’t have an impact,” Cillian said, “So why draw an arbitrary line that winds up hurting the people who have come here to live their lives?”
“That’s a slippery slope, isn’t it? Let’s relax a regulation here, take a few liberties there, and the next thing you know we have another ecological disaster,” Maria said.
“Look, let’s not pretend that the current laws are here to protect the environment. They have one purpose – to line the pockets of the Conglomerate. Those bastards could give a damn about the local environment. They’d probably welcome a disaster like that, then they could make a few more dollars helping us clean it up.”
“So, what do you want me to do?” Maria asked.
“I’m not going to pretend to have that answer,” Cillian said as he looked out at the horizon. “What we really need is someone to come out here and work with us. Set up a lab out here and figure out how to make things work out here, not sit in a lab light-years away and pretend that every colony is the same.”
“I can try.”
Cillian said, “I have a hard time seeing the Conglomerate loosen their stranglehold on our farms. Doesn’t matter to them if the colony folds. We’re just numbers on a spreadsheet. Sometimes, I think we’d be better off on our own.”
“Just what are you saying, Cillian?”
“I’m saying that this Republic doesn’t have a strong backbone. Our colony was established under Republic law, but that law means little out here. The only thing that really matters out here is surviving.”
“There was a man on Dust who felt the same way you do. He killed my husband and my son. I won’t ever let that happen again. Never,” Maria said, eyes locked with Cillian.
Cillian’s eyes brimmed with tears as he met her gaze. “I’m sorry for what happened to you, Maria. But that doesn’t change how I feel. Your righteousness doesn’t feed the crops.”
Maria stayed silent as they travelled over mile after mile of farmland. Some distance off to the left, she noticed several seemingly healthy plots of land, with crops that appeared to at the very least not look sickly.
“What’s going on over there?”
Cillian stared at her, chewing on the inside of his lip. “We’re experimenting,” he said.
“What?”
“We’re trying to figure out what modifications we need to make for the plants to survive. If we can figure it out, we’ll report back through official channels.”
“This is not proper protocol.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures. If we can’t get the help we need, I’m sure as hell not going to let some damn bureaucrat in his cozy little office on Earth drive this colony towards extinction.”
Maria shook her head in frustration. “And just what do you think the Republic’s response will be to that? Do you really think they’ll tolerate this?”
Cillian shrugged. “What are they going to do? Send a fleet out here? Arrest everyone? Deport everyone back to Earth? Good luck with that.”
“I just can’t believe it, Cillian. This is what I’ve been fighting against for the last six years.”
“We don’t have a choice, Maria. We have to do something. We have a right to live.”
Chapter 8
Akimbe looked on impassively Victor Chen fell to his knees as the baton struck him in the small of his back. The man’s eyes nearly swollen shut. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Despite the obvious pain he was in, Victor refused to stay on his knees. Victor’s arms trembled as he pushed himself up, but rise he did.
Akimbe’s upper lip twitched. He should be enjoying this moment. On the decks below, his troops were celebrating. They had successfully captured the remaining refugees from Maisha; they were a shining beacon of Republic might. Instead he was here, with this defiant little man, because he hadn’t found the quarry that had been so elusive.
“Where is the Guardian?” Akimbe asked.
Victor stared straight ahead. “Torture me all you want. I’ll never tell.”
Akimbe nodded to the young man holding on to Victor’s elbow. The stocky soldier ferociously swung his baton and again struck Victor in the small of his back. Once more, Victor fell to the floor landing hard on the cold metal.
As Victor struggled to rise again, Akimbe shook his head and turned towards the window. He stared at the gigantic pillars of the Eagle Nebula. Any other person would stand here and gape with wonder at the magnificent colors that stared back, but not Akimbe. He only saw red.
“When is Cabot due to return?”
“I do not know,” Chen answered.
“Your insolence will only make this worse.”
Victor spat a mixture of blood and saliva on the floor. “No, I understand that my life is already over. Why would I give up the lives of anyone else?”
Akimbe turned from the window with a snarl. He stormed to Victor and backhanded him across the face.
“What is your arrival protocol?”
Victor smiled.
Akimbe hit him again.
“What is their current mission?”
Victor said nothing and Akimbe hit him again.
“Where is Max Cabot?”
“Beyond your reach,” Victor said as blood poured down his face.
Akimbe swung again. “I have far more painful ways of making you talk, Mister Chen. You should think of that when I ask my next question.”
“Oh, I’ve already considered it, young man.”
Akimbe’s temper burned. Heat radiated from his skin as sweat dripped from the end of his nose.
“Where is Hannah Cabot?”
Victor smiled. “It must drive you crazy to know there is someone out there that you can’t track, someone out there that you don’t have tabs on. She can slip in and out of any world, any colony, and you will never know.”
“You are a foolish old man. I will cause you more pain than any man has ever experienced.”
“I doubt that,” Victor said, his right eye now completely swollen shut, “Your blows give me strength. With each one you unleash, I know that I am right.”
Akimbe put all his fury into a punch that connected with the left side of Victor’s face. Victor fell backward, his head hit the floor, and he did not stir. Akimbe watched as blood dripped from the older man’s left eye, his right cheek, and both lips.
Akimbe looked to the two men who flanked the exit to the observation room. “Bring me the disassemblers and a projection unit.”
The men nodded and hurried from the room.
Akimbe looked down at the blood on his knuckles. He flexed his left fist slowly, trying to work out some of the soreness. This story would work its way through the ranks; the men would chatter about the time the Commander beat the enemy to within an inch of ending his life. Their boots would snap together a little quicker, their salutes would be a little crisper, and they would watch him out of the corner of their eye as he passed. Let them fear me, he thought.
Akimbe looked to his wrist computer. All the prisoners had been rounded up. He tapped in orders; the remaining logistics ships in the battle group, loaded with prisoners, would return to Earth. The interceptors would wait.
“I’m ready for you, Max.”
***
“How’d the Starbright come through, Reggie?” Max asked as the Guardian emerged from the wormhole with the larger cruise ship in tow.
“Starbright systems are nominal. All tethers are holding.”
Max exhaled a slow sigh of relief
. Evergreen Station was a bright star on the horizon. Once the Starbright was docked with Evergreen, he could finally get on with the task of finding Eleanor.
“Sir,” Reggie said as Max came in holding a fresh cup of coffee, “We’re not picking up any normal transmissions from Evergreen. I’ve been unable to raise them on any frequency.”
Max sat heavily in the pilot’s chair and started pulling up data on his console. He looked out the cockpit window at the bright speck of the station lit by the grand colors of the nebula. The station was as they left it, floating serenely, with no outward sign of activity.
Max opened a comm channel. “Victor, this is Max, do you copy?”
No response. Max felt his stomach tighten.
“I don’t like it,” Max said, “Reggie, be ready to jump us out of here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Max’s console beeped; a transmission was incoming. He took a deep breath and accepted the incoming call. The back half of the cockpit dissolved and an interior shot of the station’s command center appeared. A well-muscled, dark-skinned man stood at attention in the center of the projection.
“Hello, Max,” he said.
“Mister Adderman,” Max said, “Though I suppose that’s not your real name.”
The man smiled. “My name is inconsequential to you. But if you must address me, you can do so by my rank – Commander.”
“I’m surprised a commanding officer such as yourself would have led the infiltration operation,” Max said.
Akimbe scowled.
Max cracked a half smile. “Or maybe I earned you a battlefield promotion? You should be thanking me.”
Akimbe smiled but his expression contained not a drop of joy. “Cute. As you can see, I am now in control of Evergreen Station. Everyone who was here, all your friends and family, are now in the custody of the Republic.”
Akimbe paused and stepped forward. His figure now loomed in the projection.
“I know that I cannot catch your ship, Max. By the time my interceptors reach your current location, you’ll be on the other side of the galaxy.”
“Speaking of which, sir,” Reggie reported, “Three interceptors are en route. Ten minutes until they are within firing range.”
Akimbe sneered. “Of course that won’t stop me from trying. Wherever you go, Max, I will be right behind you. You won’t be able to sit in a chair without feeling me breathing down your neck. Whatever path you walk down, you’ll hear my footsteps. There is no safe harbor for you, Max. And every day that you run, I’ll be…talking…with your friends whom I’m sure I will get to know very well over the next few weeks.” Akimbe nodded to someone off camera.
Two soldiers appeared, carrying someone between them. His face was barely recognizable, but Max knew right away that it was Victor. The soldiers unceremoniously released him and he fell to his knees. Victor would have plowed face first into the deck had he not caught himself at the last second with a trembling, blood-streaked elbow.
Max’s jaw dropped as he looked over Victor’s broken, bloodied, and swollen face.
“Your friends will suffer, Max. Every day it will be someone new. I will pull the memories from their minds, sift through them bit by bit, until I find some clue that tells me where you are. There is no place that you will be safe, Max.”
“You can go to hell,” Max said softly.
Akimbe snarled. “Surrender, Max. Turn yourself in…and I will stop this. I will let your friend be in peace.”
Max’s nostrils flared as he breathed deep. His cheeks flushed. His left hand curled into a fist. “Never,” Max said, “Not as long as I can draw a breath. You’ll always be a step behind me, Commander. I will share what you’ve done here. The more people you batter and bruise, the more people will turn against you.”
“Seven minutes, sir,” Reggie reported.
“Fine, Max, we’ll play it your way.” Akimbe gestured and a small cart slid into the projection.
Max looked at Victor, who seemed on the edge of consciousness. Victor’s head lolled forward and Max could see a small strip had been fastened to his forehead.
The cart was placed just in front of Victor. Max could see a faint, flickering field encasing a large pan full of a gray, shimmering liquid. A pit formed in Max’s stomach.
“What are you doing?” Max asked. He hated the slight tremor he heard in his voice.
“Max,” Victor whispered, “Whatever happens…fight. Don’t let them win.”
Akimbe sneered and said, “Watch closely, Max.” The Commander started entering some commands on his wrist computer and Victor raised his right hand. Akimbe swiped a finger downward on the screen and Victor plunged his hand into the liquid.
Victor’s scream was deafening.
Max couldn’t tear himself away as the gray liquid consumed the flesh of Victor’s hand, ate through muscles and tendons, before finally rending bone. Max took a heavy step forward and knelt before the projection of his friend.
“I’m sorry, Victor,” Max said, “I’m so sorry.”
“Turn yourself in, Max,” Akimbe said, “And you can end this.”
Victor looked up at Max. One eye swollen completely shut; the other open by only a hair’s width. His head bobbed. “Fight, Max. Fight.”
Akimbe’s lip twitched. He slid his finger across the screen of his wrist computer; Victor’s head pulled back. “Last chance, Max,” Akimbe said.
Max, still kneeling before Victor, looked at Akimbe through falling tears and snarled. “Go to hell, you son of a bitch.”
Akimbe swiped his finger. Victor slammed his head into the pan; his ear-splitting scream was mercifully short.
Max involuntarily drew back as some of the gray liquid splashed out of the pan toward him.
“Your suffering will not end, Max. I will never stop.”
“Sir,” Reggie said in a softer than normal tone, “Now is the time.”
Max cut the transmission and the image faded away.
Hannah stood on the other side of the hatch, her mouth agape.
Max looked away from her as his anger threatened to overwhelm him. He wanted to scream with bloody rage. Instead with his fists resting impotently on the console he turned to Reggie and whispered “Get us out of here.”
Hannah sat in the first row of seats of the passenger hold, just outside the cockpit, as the ship glided in deep space. An eternity seemed to pass before Max finally got up from his console and left the cockpit. She looked up at him with a lump in her throat. It took effort to speak. “How could you let that happen?”
“What should I have done?” Max asked.
“Anything,” Hannah said, “Anything to stop that. How could you just stand there and watch?”
“I watched,” Max said, “Because it was all I could do. Victor just gave his life for ours. The least I could do was see, hear his pain.”
“That’s how you honor him?” Hannah said as the tears started to fall down her face.
“No,” Max said, “That’s how I honor his sacrifice. That was a fight we could not win.”
“So, now what? We turn tail and run? Crawl under a rock somewhere and dread the day when that sadist finally finds us?”
“I don’t know,” Max said, “I don’t know what to do. I…”
She stared at Max as he stood there, her eyes trying to slice through him. “You what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Say it,” Hannah pressed.
“Say what?”
“You were going to say you need a drink. Weren’t you?”
Max cast his gaze at the floor and wouldn’t look at her.
“I…”
“You had the strength to listen to your friend’s screams,” Hannah said, “Remember that sound, Max, and do what he asked you to do.”
“We can’t win,” Max said with a shake of his head.
“That doesn’t mean we don’t try,” Hannah said.
Max walked away still shaking his head. She could hear his footfalls as h
e went to the galley. There was a clink of a bottle and then a moment of silence. Hannah closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the seat. She jumped as the sound of a bottle breaking against the bulkhead reverberated through the otherwise silent passenger hold.
***
“Settle down, people, please!” Maria shouted in an effort to be heard above the din of the crowd. The shouting continued, but quiet slowly spread through the room. After another minute, Maria could hear the sound of one unseen man coughing and at last she could speak without yelling.
“I want to help you, but I can’t do that if the only thing you’re going to do is shout at me. Now if we could please have some order, I will speak with each and every one of you. I promise I won’t leave until you’ve had your say. I’ve sent you all a form. If you would like to speak with me, go ahead and fill it out. I will speak to each one of you in turn. Thank you.”
The sound of rustling filled the hall as each person started entering their information. Maria briefly turned her back on the crowd and grabbed a drink of water. She glanced briefly at Cillian who was giving her a full-on I-told-you-so smirk.
“So much for addressing the crowd,” she said, “Let’s just get through these one-by-one. Everyone gets their say.”
“Let me know when you get hungry,” Cillian said, “I’ll have something brought in.”
A chime sounded on her wrist computer; the first person had submitted his information. Maria exhaled slowly as she turned back to the crowd. She saw a middle-aged olive-skinned man looking at her with tired, worn eyes.
“Thank you for coming here today, Mister Hlinka,” Maria said as she took several steps closer to where he was standing. “What is your issue?”
“We submitted a seed application to the Xeno-Ag Administration two years ago. It took them three months to get back to us and tell us that they’d received the application; haven’t heard anything from them since,” he said.
“I’m sorry for the delay,” Maria said, “You can understand that they receive applications from every corner of the Republic. They are, unfortunately, understaffed for the job they need to do. I’ll have my office look into it.”