Hard Luck Hank: Screw the Galaxy

by Steven Campbell

  “Hank, you can’t see the big picture.”

  “Dirty deals are the big picture on Belvaille. And look at you. What are you skulking around for? You think Garm is trying to kill you? As if she doesn’t have better things to do.”

  “I know she’s trying. Ever since I started reporting on the real activities here, my circulation has gone through the roof. I’ve got 95% coverage on the station. She hates the scrutiny I’m creating.”

  “That’s stupid. We got children here. We got people who can’t even read. We got people who won’t read even if you had a gun to their head. It’s impossible 95% of the population have a subscription.”

  “Last week I topped 135,000,” he said smugly.

  “There aren’t even that many people here. Are they buying multiple copies?”

  “I thought there were 145,000 here,” he said, confused.

  “No,” I answered, but didn’t elaborate.

  “Well,” Rendrae began uneasily, “I know my numbers. And I know Garm is hunting me. I’ve had to keep moving this whole time.” He paused as I looked at him skeptically. “Hank, even if you want to avoid all this data in front of you, why would the Dredel Led come here? It is literally the last place out of trillions of Colmarian habitations they could have assaulted. According to you there’s nothing here and we’re on the opposite side of the galaxy.”

  I took in a deep breath as I thought. I knew why they had come, obviously. But I couldn’t tell Rendrae about Jyonal, not with his big mouth. But his big mouth connected to a lot of ears and it was messing up things on the station.

  “Okay,” I began, and now I looked around nervously, like some Rendrae imitation. “What I’m about to tell you, you can’t tell anyone else.”

  Rendrae practically snapped to attention. This was about as close to ecstasy as he got, I suspected.

  “I know why the Dredel Led came here,” I said in a whisper.

  “Why?” Rendrae whispered back.

  We had almost merged into a single organism we were standing so close together.

  “I can’t tell you,” I responded.

  And Rendrae jerked away, like an amoeba that had tried to fuse with another, only to learn it was of the same sex.

  “That’s it?” He was offended.

  “Yeah,” I said, my spirits dampened.

  “That’s your big secret? You have a lot to learn, Hank.”

  Then I realized I had left something out. Or so I thought.

  “Wait, wait, wait. There’s more,” I said.

  Rendrae wasn’t very interested. He gave me one ear and only halfheartedly.

  “I know why the Dredel Led came here,” I repeated.

  “You stated that already.”

  “And Garm doesn’t know.”

  Rendrae looked at me. He blinked and his lips were slightly parted.

  “Garm—how much doesn’t she know?” Rendrae tried to clarify.

  “Nothing. At all,” I said with an ostentatious sweep of my arms.

  It was like a silent blow to Rendrae and he tilted back on his heels.

  “But you didn’t know a lot of things, Hank. How can you know she doesn’t know?”

  I could see I had him hooked. But his level of detail was a bit irksome.

  “Because they are independent. Because I am positive.”

  “But what about the Portal—,” he began.

  “Look,” I cut him off, my patience gone. “I told you all I can tell you.” But I had one more idea to help seal the deal. I took out my shotgun and put it under Rendrae’s chin.

  “If you repeat what I just told you—if you hint what I just told you—I will kill you,” I said with a leaden voice. “And you know this is not something I say idly.”

  This was not taken so much as a threat by Rendrae as a stamp of authenticity. His eyes literally glittered with the idea he had Secret Knowledge. He giggled giddily.

  “This is fantastic information, Hank. But what good is it to me if I can’t comment on it? You owe it to the citizens to share this.”

  “The way I see it, I don’t owe the citizens of Belvaille nothing. They didn’t spend a month in the hospital with fifty broken bones and having their guts regrown. I did more than my fair share already.”

  “True. True. And you’ve seen I’ve given you generous thanks for that. But Hank.” Rendrae was pleading.

  “No. More than my safety is at risk if word gets out,” I said grimly.

  Rendrae bit his fingernails at this new piece of information. As if that was the only thing preventing him from repeating it at the top of his lungs.

  “So…,” and Rendrae was momentarily speechless, which was a first.

  “I’m going to talk to Garm later. I’ll ask her about the stuff you mentioned. I mean, yeah, some of it is weird.”

  “Be careful, Hank. She’s far more dangerous than you think,” Rendrae said.

  “Oh, I know she’s plenty dangerous,” I replied.

  I went to see the mastermind of badness the next day.

  A world of change had come over Garm’s City Hall. The soldiers stood around at attention. The checkin process was formal and laborious. The interior of the building itself was scrubbed and orderly.

  The soldiers I saw with their helmets off stood to the side as I walked by and didn’t quite snap to, but close. No one smiled.

  It took me thirty minutes to get in to see Garm, which was ridiculous.

  “So what’s—,” I started when I was finally permitted to see her, and before I could complete the thought, she walked away into what appeared to be a side room.

  Okay. I followed her and she closed the door to a bare closet, holding two chairs and bad lighting.

  “This place is soundproof,” she explained, and we both sat down.

  “Awesome. So what’s this I hear about a battlegroup coming here?” I said like I had something on her.

  “Battlecruiser group,” she corrected. “Where’d you hear that?”

  “Never mind, what about it?”

  “Eh, Rendrae probably told you,” she said. “It’s true. Four battlecruisers, six cruisers, three destroyers—”

  “Destroyers?” I interrupted.

  “Yeah. Three destroyers, two transports, and various logistics ships. All coming to good old Belvaille.”

  “For what?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “To find out why the first contact we’ve had with the Dredel Led in centuries happened here and why it was hostile, I guess.”

  “How many troops are they bringing?”

  Garm sighed.

  “About a quarter million.”

  I sat there. My mind refused to do the math.

  “Can the city even hold that many people?”

  “No. Most are going to stay on their ships, but I’ve been instructed to make habitation available for twenty-five thousand soldiers.”

  As I was sitting there dumbly, Garm broke in.

  “In case you’re wondering, we have 535 Colmarian military here now. And about 216 government workers who do services for the station.”

  Again, my mind was fumbling with the crazy numbers.

  “So all those ships are going to be at our port? All those cops?”

  “Well, most of those ships are too big to dock at our port,” Garm corrected. “They’ll just be floating nearby.”

  “Oh, good,” I blurted sarcastically.

  “We need to make a lot of changes before they get here,” she said.

  “No way, you’re kidding? You mean the Colmarian Navy isn’t going to be pleased to find we deal mostly in black market activities?”

  “This is serious, Hank. For everyone. The Captain of that group has full legal rights. They’ve preemptively declared martial law. For all I know they could start dragging people into the street and executing them. I need you to help call a meeting of all the bosses. Everyone. We got a few months to scrub this place down before they get here.”

  “They’re taking months to come out here,
presumably they’re going to stay a while. How are we supposed to fake it that long?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. We’ll discuss it,” Garm replied.

  “Hey,” I began, thinking. “I need you to open the port so I can get a ship out of here.” Jyen and her brother had to get off this station. That many troops were sure to find them.

  “For you?” Garm asked.

  “Yes,” I answered. I couldn’t tell Garm about them, so I’d just say it was for me. No ship was single-passenger anyway.

  Garm laughed.

  “When they come to audit my books, I’m in at least as much trouble as anyone here. But I have a better chance of getting off this station than you do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you killed two Dredel Led! About the only things the military asked about were empty housing and you.”

  “Why did you tell them I destroyed the robots?” I asked, annoyed.

  “I didn’t. Your friend Rendrae printed it for the whole galaxy to read. Blame him.” Seeing my expression she continued, “Yes, some issues of The News make it off Belvaille. Did you think Dredel Led would be just a local concern? They’re talking about this across the whole Confederation.”

  “Are you really a former intelligence agent?” I asked, thinking of Rendrae’s conspiracy theories.

  Garm pursed her lips.

  “I don’t know if ‘former’ is the right word,” she said.

  “What?” I was shocked.

  “It’s not exactly secret. I mean, what did you think all those giant radio telescopes are used for?”

  I was beginning to question everything I knew about Belvaille.

  “So there is hidden military stuff that goes on here?” I asked.

  “Nah. But they figured they got this space station, might as well use it. And it is at the edge of our empire.”

  “But there’s nothing out there,” I countered. Rendrae’s paranoia was all coming true.

  “Who said there’s nothing out there? There’s plenty. The Boranjame crisscross at leisure. There’s been Dredel Led talk for ages. Rettosians. Qwintine. Keilvin Kamigans. There’s a whole galaxy besides Belvaille, you know?”

  I sat looking at my knees for a moment.

  “Are you trying to assassinate Rendrae?”

  “No,” Garm began firmly, and I felt myself relax. “But I am trying to arrest him. If he doesn’t stop he’s going to make it a hundred times harder when those soldiers get here. They’ll just flip through issues of The News arresting people. He’s detailing every crime we’re committing, and quite a few we’re not.”

  “Wow” was all I could say. After a moment, I asked, “You know anything about delfiblinium?”

  Garm’s brow furrowed at the unusual question.

  “Why?”

  “I’m just curious,” I said innocently.

  “Well, it’s incredibly rare.”

  I was about to ask her “how rare?” when she continued.

  “Because it’s super unstable and explosive.”

  “Oh.”

  “Please don’t tell me you know of some delfiblinium on Belvaille. That’s all I need is for the Navy to find some of that here.”

  “No, I was just…thinking,” I said. I could see Garm was a pile of jagged nerves, so I’d hold off on telling her unless there were no other options.

  I had just started feeling good about being healthy again. Now there was an army coming that specifically wanted to see me, they had the authority to kill probably half the population on the station, and there was no way to leave.

  “I felt better when the Dredel Led were still here,” I said morosely.

  CHAPTER 15

  The next day I had lunch with an old friend, Bon-Peeb. I’d worked with him on more jobs than I can remember. He was definitely an old-timer and I kind of felt like talking about the past, as the present and future were becoming oppressive.

  “Hank. Hank,” he called across the restaurant, standing to get my attention.

  Bon looked…well, old. He had a big white beard and big belly. I suppose he had always been older, but I forgot by how much. He was a large Colmarian, standing almost a half-foot taller than me. He never had trouble finding work on Belvaille as a tough of some kind.

  I shook his hand and took a seat, wanting to get out of view of the nosy patrons around me.

  “Great seeing you, Bon,” I said.

  “Uh, the name is Been-e now, what with the military coming. I still have some outstanding warrants.”

  “How does everyone know about this stuff?” I asked, amazed.

  Bon/Been-e twisted his face to express the ease of information.

  “It’s just around,” he said. “Hey Hank, so how long we known each other you think?”

  I honestly had no clue. We were never great friends or anything. We had probably worked with each other and not known it, too.

  “What was the first job you remember with me?” I asked. “I seem to recall it was breaking into that guy’s apartment,” and I struggled to push away the dust in my memory, “but it was like the wrong guy’s apartment, so we broke into someone else’s and that one was wrong too.”

  “I don’t think that was me,” Been-e said. “I think it was the Girl Strike. Like ninety years ago or abouts.”

  I shook my head, indicating it didn’t ring a bell.

  “Remember, like all the girls went on strike. The guys too. Anyone who was one of those type of jobs, you know?”

  “This was probably before my time,” I said.

  “No. You’ve been here longer than me. Come on. You weren’t such a big deal then, I remember. But people knew you and everyone was like, ‘ask Hank, ask Hank,’ and I was like, ‘Hank, who?’”

  “So what happened?” I asked, perversely interested in more tall tales about myself.

  “We didn’t know what to do. They wanted a ton more pay and there was no way it was going to happen. And all the bars practically shut down, because as much as people want to drink—”

  “They want to drink with someone pretty,” I finished.

  “Yeah. But anyway, there were some fellows who had the idea to rough up the girls to get them to agree and you were like, ‘If we beat them up, we’ll never get a date again.’ It was a real touchy situation. So you suggested the bosses like sweet-talk the girls. Send them candy and flowers and gifts and stuff and talk about how they miss them.”

  “This kind of sounds familiar,” I agreed, a smile on my face.

  “Right, so all these big bosses are reciting poetry and playing music and making complete asses of themselves. Some of the bosses didn’t do it. You know because of their egos. And they stayed closed. But the ones who did it, they eventually got their people back. They spent money to do it, but it was more the whole appreciation thing.”

  “Hmm,” I said, my arms behind my head. It was almost like I had just finished this job and was relishing in my own success.

  “That’s when people were really like, ‘not only can this guy crack heads, but he’s smart,’” Been-e added.

  “Well, I don’t know about that. It’s all relative. And relative to Belvaille, you know?”

  “Yeah, true that. But, I figure we’ve known each other about ninety years. I’ve been shot maybe ten times working with you and I have no idea how many times you been shot. A million, maybe?” Been-e laughed.

  “I never shot you, did I?” I asked.

  “Once. But that’s okay. It was just how things went. And unlike a lot of guys, I know you weren’t trying to cut me down or nothing,” he said nonchalantly.

  “Oh. Well. Sorry and all.”

  He waved it off.

  “Not sure if you know, seeing as how you been involved in that real big stuff,” he started.

  “Hey, I hope you don’t believe all that crap in The News,” I interjected.

  “Eh,” he began, and I could see he did. “Not really. I know how it is.”

  “Good,” I said, at least happy he’d
lied.

  I find my whole pattern of speech and mannerisms morph when I’m around working folks. I think everyone does that to an extent, but I was about ready to pound some booze and throw the bottles against the wall. Been-e was so salty.

  “Anyway, it’s been rough on us while the Portal is down. Almost no jobs going on and the military coming. It’s tough finding work,” Been-e stated.

  And it was only going to get harder, I figured. I hoped he wasn’t going to ask me for help. I might be able to scrounge something, but I always disliked being put in that position.

  “Hey, have you seen my daughters?” he asked urgently. He took out his tele to show me a group picture of three women of varying ages. “I finally got them all in one place to send me a vid.”

  The girls were a lot younger than I’d guess a man of his age would have. Kids don’t do much for me except get annoying, but I’ve learned parents are less objective about their children than addicts are about their drugs, so I said they looked nice.

  He put his tele away. He had a guilty expression already and I knew it was a matter of time before he either hit me up for credits or asked for work or both.

  “So I started working for Zadeck, but it’s just one job, see?” He was looking down at the table now.

  “Yup,” I said, coaxing along the conversation to its inevitable conclusion.

  “I just want you to do one thing, Hank, and that’s hear me out. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, gritting my teeth.

  “No, really. I need you to hear out what I have to say.”

  “Alright,” I said, annoyed.

  Then Been-e pulled a pistol out from under the table, pointed it at my head, and fired.

  There were screams all across the restaurant and people ran to the exits in a panic.

  “What the hell!” I yelled at him.

  He immediately put the gun down on the table in front of us and put his hands up. He wore the same apologetic expression.

  “Just listen to me, Hank. I’m really sorry!”

  I felt up where I was shot and there was a bullet stuck in my forehead. Just the very tip had embedded itself in my skin. When I pulled back to view my fingers there was no blood, though it stung like a bitch.