I went outside and looked up, but the smoke trails were gone.
Back in Deadsouth I attempted to patch together the rest of my drug load. I gave up trying to get the other half all in one go and just grabbed what I could from individuals.
The prices were higher taking it piecemeal and I had to deal with a plethora of trembling, bug-eyed dealers, but at least I was making progress.
I was literally carrying around a knapsack filled with about fifty pounds of narcotics when I got a tele from Garm.
“Hank, I need you to get here now!” she yelled.
“I’m working,” I said. The drug dealer I was currently negotiating with took a peek at my tele screen and about spontaneously combusted when he realized I was speaking to the Adjunct Overwatch in his apartment.
“This is absolutely serious, Hank. Hurry.” She cut off and I was left to ponder. Though generally a calm cookie, she could get overly excited. I figured the gang war had started someplace and I was going to have to get involved.
It was almost a straight shot north on the train to the administration buildings of City Hall. After a quick transfer I was walking into Garm’s unglamorous military headquarters.
City Hall was constructed back in Belvaille’s early days when the space station had a dignified purpose. The building had twisting spires and golden frescoes of valiant space pioneers. It was the only non-rectangular building in the whole city and really stood out.
I got buzzed past the various checkpoints and noticed all the soldiers were standing alert and looked worried. Must be a big fight somewhere. Probably full-scale conflict. I sighed.
Carrying my drugs, I was finally waved into Garm’s office.
“What took you so long?” she asked me angrily as she closed the door.
Garm had tried to make her office unattractive in case any officials visited, but there were still a few designer chairs and luxury items here and there. She just couldn’t help herself.
“What’s going on?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Watch this. It’s from a few hours ago.”
Garm was nervous. Sweating. Something had her stirred up and that got my attention. She played a video.
“Is that station checkin?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Garm chewed her fingernails absently. I put my bag down and focused on the video. People and cargo needed to check into Belvaille like anyplace else. Though we generally didn’t mind what they brought as long as it wasn’t too bizarre.
“Watch this guy coming up,” Garm said.
A man on the video approached the check. He was scanned. The scan showed—
“Is,” I began lamely, “that a robot?”
The guard at the checkpoint was confused too.
“Um,” he said. Then he got blasted to pieces. The robot had revealed some kind of heavy cannon held by or attached to its arm. An explosion of flame and smoke erupted and the video went dead.
“There are two of them. They flew away into the city. Some kind of jet packs.”
“Robots?” I asked again.
“We think. We don’t know. But they killed every single person at that checkpoint. Over twenty people, including three security personnel.”
“What would Dredel Led be doing here?”
“We don’t know who they are,” Garm said. “They’re robots and they killed a lot of people. That’s all we got.”
This was just totally unbelievable. I played back the video. He looked like a normal Colmarian, though that in itself was somewhat of an oxymoron.
The Dredel Led really were a scary concept, the bad guys for every work of fiction.
I’m not even sure what our real interaction was with their empire versus what was just hyperbole. I don’t think Colmarians had had any contact with them in millennia at least. Colmarian space adjoined theirs in some areas, but we adjoined just about everyone. And Belvaille was nowhere near them.
Real information on them was scant. They were robots. They had really advanced technology. They kept to themselves. Unlike the other races, you couldn’t say what a Dredel Led looked like. They could look like anything, right? I mean they were machines. Because of our wars with them ages ago, certain technology was now forbidden in the Colmarian Confederation.
“I’m hereby deputizing you, Hank,” Garm said.
“Uh, deputization denied,” I countered. “I’m not the military.”
“How many times did I offer you?”
“I don’t want to be in the military. And what can I possibly do to help? I can’t fight a flying robot.”
“Hank, I sent word we’ve been attacked. It will be a week before they even get that message. It will be at least a month before they can send anyone here. Are you willing to let those things run wild for a month? There are 100,000 people on this station.”
“A million.”
“What?”
“There’s a million people on Belvaille, right?” I asked.
Garm looked momentarily confused and annoyed.
“No. Where’d you get that idea? There are just under 100,000 here. But still, every one of them is in danger. Those things obviously don’t mind killing people.”
“You’ve got that big gun, can’t you use that?” I asked.
“That’s an artillery piece, it’s for knocking down buildings.”
“Then why do you have it?”
“For knocking down buildings! Look, if you can get one to stand still for thirty minutes while we set it up, we can use it, otherwise it’s no go.”
“You think my shotgun is going to do anything to that,” I said, pointing at the video.
“No, but your Ontakian pistol will.”
I stared at Garm, gobsmacked. It never occurred to me that she believed in it too.
“You’re kidding. I’ve never even fired this stupid thing,” I said, taking it out of its holster. “It probably hasn’t been shot in a thousand years. It’s either going to not do anything or blow off my face.”
“But at least it’s something.”
“You’re not getting it, I’ve never used it. I don’t know what it is. It’s just a green light. I scare people with it.”
“Well that’s like those robots. Don’t think of them as children’s stories, sneaking around at night or killing your parents and living in their skin. They’re just targets like anyone else you’ve fought.”
“No,” I said, disagreeing with her logic. “My pistol has never killed twenty people in one shot and flown through the sky. Those Dredel Led are exactly the same as the children’s stories.”
“Just try the pistol. We don’t have any other ideas.”
“It’s my great-great-great-grandfather’s and all I have left of my history.”
“Hank, we have to do something.”
I looked down at my pistol and clicked on the power. There was that reassuring glow. That deep hum.
Garm stood close to me, her firm hand on my shoulder.
“Hank, this is real. You know me, I don’t care about a whole lot of things a whole lot. But Dredel Led haven’t been seen in Colmarian space in…I don’t know how long. This could be a real invasion for all we know. We’re Colmarians, damn it.”
I hated to admit it, but Garm was right. We all talked trash about our great society. It was an easy target, what with it sucking in just about every conceivable way. But I think under all the gruff, every Colmarian was fiercely nationalistic and ready to cause as much havoc as possible if it meant protecting our backwards, incompetent system.
“Alright,” I said. “This is probably better than a gang war, anyways.”
CHAPTER 8
Garm had mobilized her troops. I had never seen so many soldiers before, not even during the times we had riots. Everyone was as armed and armored as possible. However, I did not feel very safe as none of them looked even marginally confident.
I stood back a ways from Garm as she organized this army and issued orders. She really did know how to get stuff done. What
they were going to do when they ran into a combat robot was anyone’s guess.
“Garm, you need to contact all the bosses. Tell them what’s up. There’s still a war brewing,” I said to her.
“You do that. They’ll take it a lot better from you. They’ll think I have ulterior motives.”
“I’ll make some calls,” I said, and left.
Garm hadn’t told me how much info I could or couldn’t give, but I figured I was going to have to tell the bosses something.
First, I teled Rendrae. I told him everything. Dredel Led. Twenty dead. He didn’t believe me for quite some time. Enough time that I began yelling at him, because I had a lot more folks to call and I couldn’t spend thirty minutes on each one. I enlisted his help to spread the word. I even told him to go to the checkin and look at the damage. He was an intrepid enough reporter I knew he would.
The bosses differed. You could see each individual’s personality shining through. Some were ready to commit their men to the effort and asked what assistance they could lend. Others were only into protecting their own interests. Still others simply thought I was lying. That I was on the take from someone and this was some convoluted master plan.
I didn’t talk too long to that last bunch. But what I did do was contact some of the guys who worked for them and passed along the word and told them to do the same. I sent out a broadcast tele to everyone I knew, which is quite a few people. I explained it as succinctly as possible and closed with the advice: stay inside, tele if you see anything.
I went back to Garm and saw most of the soldiers had dispersed. I watched her appreciatively. Takes a special kind of woman, or anyone for that matter, to be able to switch gears so quickly between crook and savior.
When she was done, she didn’t even look tired, and I was tired just having seen her.
“Before we go, Hank, I need you to understand what we’re facing.”
“Dredel Led,” I said gravely.
“Right, and you’re bulletproof. But look at this.” She dropped a heavy square of metal at my feet. It was bent and scorched.
“Do you think your skin is that thick?” she asked.
“As thick as that metal? No, of course not.”
“Well, that’s what those robots did to it. We removed that from the side of one of the buildings.”
“What’s your point?” I asked.
“Hank, you need to duck if you see those things.”
“Duck? Like what do you mean?”
Garm heaved a deep sigh. She then reached for the gun on her thigh, pulled it out, and aimed it at my face.
“See?” she said, alarmed.
“What?”
“You didn’t even flinch.”
“I know you’re not going to shoot me.”
She put the gun down.
“That doesn’t matter. If I did that to anyone else, they would at least move out of the way. You’ve spent your whole life not having to look both ways before crossing the street, or worrying about touching a plate that’s too hot. I don’t think you know how to protect yourself.”
I blinked a bit, then slowly squatted down.
“Like this? I mean, I’m not sure what you’re getting at,” I said.
“Hank, if you play this like you’re doing a street fight with some Belvaille thugs, they’ll shoot you with the”—she pointed to the injured metal on the ground—“gun that did that. And you’ll die. Then I’ll have to hire your replacement. And you’re one of the only contractors on Belvaille who even loosely understands the concept of hygiene.”
“Don’t get mushy. So what do you want me to do then? I can’t get lightweight all of a sudden.”
“Just, stand behind cover. Peek around corners.”
“You’re kidding,” I stated.
“They can’t shoot through the walls. We already know that, Hank. Think like someone who isn’t a mutant for once.”
I frankly didn’t know how I was going to do this. Carry corners around with me? I mean I was going to have to be in front of them sometime, right? Or how else would we fight? And couldn’t they just walk around the corner? Or even fly? I was too slow to be sneaky.
I just nodded my head.
“So when are we leaving?” I asked.
“When we find them, I’m setting up patrols.”
“Do I wait here? I have jobs to do. Paying jobs.”
She gave me a mean look but relented.
“No, you can go. But if I call you you’d better get here in five minutes. Not Hank-speed.”
“Fine.”
CHAPTER 9
I took a catnap to clear my head and moseyed back to my trusty drug dealer Grever Treest. Invasion or not, I still had an assignment and I was holding a lot of floppy-ears’ money.
Grever was, if possible, more edgy than he had previously been.
I figured out why soon enough when he let me inside and the first thing he asked me about was the Dredel Led. It seems Rendrae had released an “Extra” of The News and it was entirely about our robot friends. He also pulled out all the stops and somehow had a potpourri of data regarding Colmarians’ previous encounters with the race.
I was surprised to read that the Dredel Led were the catalyst for Colmarian mutation experiments.
It seems every empire at some point or other takes a shot at the Colmarian Confederation. It’s like a right of passage. But when the Dredel Led came knocking we didn’t have super weapons, or vast resources, or exotic alien physiology, or the overwhelming efficiency that comes from being ruled by just a handful of species. What we did have was the largest amount of biodiversity times a zillion.
So we started cobbling all that together in an attempt to create mutations. Now everyone is subjected to it. Mutants are basically organic landmines that make it harder for us to be conquered.
So that was our great strategy: make it simply not cost-effective to try to invade us.
I knew why we did mutations. I just didn’t know it was the Dredel Led that made us start. Rendrae mentioned the fact that we were losing a war against them and that’s what made us take the plunge into tinkering with our own population. I suppose at the time it was a pretty radical idea, but we’ve been doing it for so long now, it’s just the way it is.
Anyway, after reading that, I found the second reason why Grever Treest was so antsy. He took me into his bedroom and his entire bed was covered in drugs. It was the largest flat surface he could find.
He began detailing all the things he had scored.
“This one isn’t Blue Horizon, but it’s got kind of the same effect. I got four samples of your L-joccaine. This one has more of a mild burn. This is strong, but short in duration. The other two are solid, but kind of lighter, more of a haze than a blaze, you know?”
Grever spoke with encyclopedic knowledge about each and every drug, but all I could see was that I had totally screwed up.
I had stupidly assumed that when he said he would get half of the list, he was literally going to go down and get half of each individual drug. So when I went out trying to fill the rest of it, I bought the remaining half, or as close as I could.
So what I was looking at was basically 150% of some drugs and 0% of others. Some were replaced with completely different drugs and some were “almost” the same.
I didn’t know how drug deals worked intimately, but I figured I had accomplished about a third of what I was supposed to using all the money I was given, less about seven grand. If it was any other kind of transaction, it would be a total botch. I was just hoping this was how drug deals always worked.
I could see Jyen being really pissed and not paying me. I mean the only good thing was that I already got the money for it and at least nothing would come out of my pocket. If she was only interested in those exact drugs in those exact quantities…well, I could tell her to file a claim with Garm.
Grever was still speaking rhapsodically about the literal mound of narcotics in front of us.
“…this one will
knock you flat, but don’t mix it with this or it might stop your heart. Ah, one of my favorites is this Oranium, which was crazy hard to find. I have this buddy who just—”
“Hey,” I interrupted. “Can you write all this down? I’m not going to remember any of it. And you need to put what amount you got. Oh, and we need to add it all up with my stuff.”
I took out my bag of drugs and laid it on the bed. Grever was momentarily at a loss.
“Write it down? Yeah. I mean, I guess.”
“Do you think my buyer is going to care that I didn’t fill the list specifically? I mean all this stuff is way different.”
“Nah. This is hot material. I pulled out all the stops for you, Hank. No one’s going to be upset when they see this,” he said, spreading out his arms almost angelically over his bed.
We tallied up the haul as Grever made copious comments on every article. He was writing a paragraph on every little drug and I realized we weren’t going to get out of here for days, so I limited him to one sentence apiece.
As soon as we came to any of the drugs I had bought he became instantly derogatory. My stuff was junk. Feeble. It was old. Cut. Probably half-strength at best. I’d overpaid. He wanted to make it clear in the notes which drugs had been provided by him and which were the ones I had procured.
It took several hours but we got it all down.
I wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. The shyster in me wanted to just throw it all in a very large box, as it was probably exceeding several hundred pounds at this point, and drop it on Jyen without the cheat sheet.
She’d have a hard time knowing the lousy state of affairs if it was all piled up. As I was battling with that moral quandary I realized I didn’t have any way of carrying it all, jumbled or not.
We finally had to take several bedsheets and cinch up the corners, and I could lift it like a sack over my shoulder.
I transferred the credits to Grever as agreed. He gave me three different teles I could reach him at if I happened to want some drugs in the future. He was certainly a happy guy for doing business with me. I figure I gave him maybe four to six months of work practically overnight.
Hard Luck Hank: Screw the Galaxy Page 5