by Wil C. Fry
It all made me feel very special and happy, and I went to the bathroom and cried for five minutes, wishing my parents were around to see how well I was doing. Then I thought I heard my dad's voice: "We're here, son, and we're proud of you. Just remember everything I told you about life. You'll be all right without us..." Destiny kissed me good-bye as I left for my house.
I still thought of Destiny in my free time, wishing that she could be "mine." I never told Norman, since I figured he would laugh at me. I didn't tell my other friends at school, either. I knew what they would say. And, I thought, they were probably right. There was no way a popular senior was going to go out with a freshman like me, even if I was a particularly grown up freshman.
*
A few weeks after my birthday party, Harry told me that Persiphone was going to have elections. There were now more than 250,000 people on the planet, and that was the minimum required by the Commission to set up a planetary government. I had read somewhere that my hometown of Otok, Tuf, had more than ten times that amount in one city! From then until the summer break, everyone was talking about the elections; even our math teacher broke his routine and discussed government for two or three days.
We weren't going to be minions of the Colonial Commission anymore. We were going to be a regular planet. One of my teachers said that it would probably be a long, long time before we were heavily settled, like the Old Worlds, but we would have "equal status" with them in any galactic government that was set up.
I had read an old science fiction book during the summer, in which the "Federation" government didn't like to let colony worlds achieve full status. In the story - written in the 20th century - the government bled each colony for all it was worth, until the colonists rebelled and set up their own government. I had also learned in history that things like that had happened back on Terra, when they were still colonizing continents.
The Colonial Commission didn't work that way. For one thing, there were too many new planets opening up, farther out, and each planet meant a lot of work. For another thing, their big profits came from their ships, not from their planets. They could still make that profit after a colony achieved full planetary status. The Commission charged each colonist a basic fee, for transporting them to the colony, and for shipping their property, even if the planet had already elected its own government. They required each colonist to buy a substantial insurance policy for each child, in case of death or inability to provide. They made a lot of money buying produce cheaply from homesteaders and reselling it at a good profit. Usually, on a colony world, the first stores that opened were run by the Commission, and brought in huge profits. But once the society on the planet reached a certain level, these "Company stores" closed - colonists had a way of opening their own stores, at their own prices.
So, it actually profited the Commission to run each planet for as short a time as possible then let it go. And that's what they were getting ready to do with Persiphone. They had determined that the economy there was stable enough and growing fast enough to keep itself going without help. The population was large enough to continue with a relatively clean gene pool, should interplanetary travel be cut off for some reason. The Commission was going to help set up a fair election, and then they were going to get out.
*
Sometime during all the election talk, Destiny turned seventeen, and she invited me to her party. One of Destiny's senior friends held the party at her house, since her parents were on the other side of the planet, campaigning for office. There were maybe seventy-five seniors at the party, and two dozen underclassmen. I felt out of place until Destiny sat on my lap and handed me a beer. She stayed there a while.
After about an hour, and a few drinks, I loosened up and began to enjoy myself. The music was loud, the other kids were having fun, and soon most people forgot that we were in different grades and social groups.
Since the party was being held for Destiny, many of the kids there vied for her attention constantly, and I didn't get to talk to her much. I did, however, make a few new friends from the senior class.
Later, though, Destiny remembered that I was there. In a way that I'll never forget. I know she had gone on dates with a few of her male friends in her senior class, but I'm pretty sure that she never got as close to them as she did to me that night. I'm convinced that the alcohol helped a little, but suddenly we were kissing in the hallway. She dragged me into an empty bedroom, and started pulling my clothes off. At first, I was too nervous to be aroused, but when she started removing her own clothes, I didn't have any problems.
It was my first party, my first drink, and my first sexual experience, all in one night. After Destiny and I had put some of our clothes back on, we sat there, holding each other in the semi-darkness of the bedroom. My mind was still reeling, and I could smell her. I didn't want to think of anything else for the rest of my life. I wanted to marry her, build our own farm on an empty planet, raise beautiful children, and stay near her all the time.
Her mouth was near my ear and I could feel her breath in my hair. She said softly, "I want to rob another bank, Philipp. And I want you to come with me."
I turned slowly, until our eyes met. I looked deep into the translucent pools of her irises, and felt and smelled her body next to mine. We kissed for a little while, until I sensed that she wasn't really into kissing anymore. I broke away, and asked, "You mean right now?"
She nodded, and I could see the excitement building in her face. "How, Destiny? At night, the money's all locked in the safe and the doors are locked." I didn't question the morality of it all; only the logistics, and the fact that it would make her happy.
"I've got an idea." She whispered her plan to me, and then we put the rest of our clothes on and returned to the party. It was ending, anyway - several people had left while we were in the bedroom, and others were passed out on the furniture and floor. She said good-bye to all her friends, and we left, heading in the direction of her house.
As soon as we were out of sight of the other partygoers, we doubled back, and I grabbed a length of pipe out of the hostess' barn. An hour later, in the very early hours of the morning, we were in an alley beside a bank in Tarkin that I had never seen before.
I peeked around the corner, and saw the night watchman, just inside the door. He was reading a book, sitting at his desk. "Okay," I said, "your plan had better work. We walked into sight. Destiny was holding the pipe behind her and my arm was around her shoulders; we were wobbling just a little bit, partly from the alcohol we had consumed, and partly because of our plan.
As we drew adjacent to the front door of the bank, we stopped, and I pointed at the night watchman, saying loudly, "Maybe he can help us." The street was empty, except for the car parked at the corner - probably the guard's car.
The man looked up. I could tell he wasn't a colonist, not in the real sense of the word.
He hadn't come to Persiphone to farm or to build a new life for himself. He was here as a chattel of some intergalactic banking corporation, hoping to draw higher pay or buck for a promotion on a new world. He also didn't look happy about his new shift. But he did seem a little relieved to see us; maybe his book wasn't too exciting. Maybe his life wasn't too exciting. That was all about to change. He came to the heavy glass door, raising his eyebrows. "Can I help you kids with something?"
I acted as if I couldn't quite hear him, made him repeat his question, and then raised my voice. "Yessir. I'm trying to find a phone, so I can call a cab. I need to get my girl home, before her dad beats me to a pulp." Destiny looked at her watch then at me, with a worried look on her face.
"Just go down one more block," he pointed, "and there's a public phone outside that pharmacy."
I looked at Destiny, then back at him, confused. "What? I can't hear you man. This door's too thick."
He shrugged, and pulled a ring of keys from his belt. The guard looked both ways down the street, and finding it empty of a threat, he unlocked the door, and opened it. While
he was looking down to pull the key out of the lock, I took the pipe from Destiny's hands, and swung. CRACK! He went down, dropping his keys.
Like a flash, I swung the door open, and dragged him inside. Destiny followed us, and pulled his sidearm from his holster. I re-locked the door, and pulled the semi-conscious guard back to his desk. Then I traded the pipe for the gun. Destiny looked funny wielding that length of pipe, and I'm sure I looked equally harmless holding that big gun, but we were inside. Desperately, I looked at the gun; it was old, the kind with bullets. I found what I thought was the safety, and pushed the switch. The magazine fell out, clattering to the floor. We both jumped. I picked the clip up, and examined it. Fifteen bullets! I popped it back in to the handle of the gun, and pulled the slide back, like I had seen bad guys do on old movies. As I did so, I saw one of the bullets slide into the firing chamber. I flipped another switch, and a red dot appeared behind it. That had to be the safety.
The guard was coming to, and rubbing his head. I pointed the gun at his chest. "Don't try anything funny, mister," I said, in my best gangster voice.
"It's too late for that," he replied. "I've already opened the door for you. Wasn't that funny enough?"
"Shut up," Destiny added, raising the pipe a little. Then she put the pipe down, and pulled a roll of packing tape from her purse, smiling. "This won't hurt a bit... Hey! Keep your foot away from that!"
I saw his foot sliding toward a button on the floor. "I would listen to her if I were you, mister," I said. Then I motioned with the gun. "Stick your hands out, and put your wrists together."
Minutes later, he was keying the vidphone, with me standing beside him, out of range of the camera pickup, holding the gun pointed at his face. Destiny stood to his other side, also out of range of the pickup, holding the pipe again. With his wrists taped tightly together, he hit the send key on the phone.
After two rings, a sleepy male face appeared on the screen. It was, I hoped, the manager of the bank.
"What do want, Schiller?" he growled, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.
The guard looked down at the slip of paper we had placed on the desk for him to read. "Uh, Mister Sanders, I've got a problem."
"Handle it, Schiller," Sanders said, and reached for the cutoff switch.
"Wait!" The guard looked worried, and a little sheepish. "Mr. Sanders, I know it's late, but I need you to come up here for a few minutes. You know I wouldn't be calling if really didn't need you." He paused, and I shook the gun menacingly (I thought). "I, uh, you see, it's not a security issue, sir. It's a bank issue, and I'd rather not discuss it over the phone. But I think you'd better get it cleared up before morning, sir."
Mr. Sanders sighed heavily. "Okay. I guess I asked for it, bucking for this promotion. Be there in a few." He cut off.
I was starting to feel very relieved. First, Destiny and I had had no way of knowing that there would be a night watchman on duty - not for sure, anyway. If we had not found Schiller there, our plan was to break the glass door with the pipe. We would have waited for a security car or a tired, third-shift police officer to show up to check out the alarm. Second, we had been counting on Schiller to read his script as written. If he had tried to play the hero and tip off his boss, we would have had a problem. I don't know what we would have done then. When I had asked Destiny about that, back at the party, she'd just shrugged, saying he would do as we said. I hadn't been sure, until Schiller read the script and the call went as planned.
*
I breathed a sigh of relief.
I looked down the sights of the guard's gun, making sure his chest was behind the tiny white dot at the end of the barrel. The white dot was glowing slightly in the dim light of the closed bank. I was standing to one side of the front door, with my back to the wall. Destiny was on the other side of the door. Schiller sat on his stool behind the desk, his wrists taped together, and his arms taped to his sides. Tape ran around his waist, pinning him to the stool. Not one bit of the tape showed above the ledge of his desk.
His eyebrows raised and I heard a key working the lock. As soon as Sanders stepped inside, Schiller opened his mouth to warn him, but Destiny was already swinging. The pipe connected with the back of Sanders' neck, and he went down. I kept the gun pointed at the guard while Destiny locked the door again.
Then I gave her the gun, and she pointed it at Schiller while I taped up Sanders, and dragged him away from the door. Then I taped Schiller's mouth, and Destiny helped me drag his stool away from the desk and off to the side, where he couldn't shake himself free and hit the alarm.
When Sanders came to, he tried to swear for a second, until he realized that his mouth was taped shut.
"Shut up," I growled, pressing the barrel of the Schiller's gun against his temple. My finger shook on the trigger.
He shut up. "Now listen to me, Sanders. When I rip that tape off your mouth, you're going to give me the combination to that safe, or I'm going to place the other side of your head all over the floor. Then I'm going to do the same thing with your rent-a-cop over there. And some poor teller in the morning is going to have to mop the whole mess up. You understand me?"
He nodded, meekly.
"And you're not going to say anything else, okay?"
He nodded again.
I pressed the gun harder into his head, and Destiny hefted the pipe, looking even more beautiful than usual. "I'm going to back away from you after I take the tape off. Then you're going to give me the combination. Now."
I peeled the tape off, slowly. I figured we had hurt the poor guy enough, not to mention his damaged pride. Then the poor guy actually told me how to open the safe. I guess he thought I would go over and do it myself, leaving him free to wriggle away. Instead, I stayed where I was, and Destiny went to the vault door, and punched in the first two numbers.
"Wait!" I said. "Hold on, girl." I looked at Sanders. "If any kind of alarm goes off, you're still going to get it, right? Did you give her the right combination?"
He nodded, his whole body shaking. "I promise. Nothing will go off. Just let me live. I've got a wife and a son at home. I just wanna live, man." I could see the wet spot on his pants.
"Go ahead, darling." We had agreed not to use our names, so it would be harder to identify us. There were thousands of boys matching my description in Tarkin, and maybe two or three hundred that would be mistaken for Destiny in a line-up. But no names, please.
She hit the final number, and there was a hiss as the door swung outward, heavily. "Wipe off your prints, Sandy," I said, picking the first name that came to the top of my head.
"Sure thing, Karl," she answered, winking. She used her blouse to wipe off the keypad on the vault door, then stepped inside the vault. Quickly she stepped back out and said to me, "Let's take care of these two, first."
I saw Sanders' eyes widen fearfully. "Get over by the rent-a-cop," I ordered. He struggled to his taped feet, and hopped clumsily over to Schiller, who looked just as worried, and was mumbling something through the tape.
Sanders said, "I thought you weren't going to kill us."
"I'm not. Now, stand with your backs together." They complied. Then Destiny ran the rest of her tape around both of them, one sitting in the stool, and the other standing behind it.
She was thorough, going all the way from their ankles up to their necks. The last stretch of tape went around Sander's mouth, silencing him again.
Then she dropped the empty spool back into her purse, and we ran into the vault. Inside, on a shelf by the door, we found several large bags. We used these bags, filling as many as we could with the largest denomination bills we could find. Then halfway through, we changed our minds and started grabbing fives and tens, and twenties.
When we had six bags full, I decided that would be enough, and we got out of there, leaving the vault door open. On the way out, I snagged another empty bag. While Destiny waited, I used the empty bag to wipe the shelves we had emptied, just in case, deciding on the spot that if I ever did this
again, I would wear gloves. Then I wiped off the pen I had used to scrawl Schiller's script for the phone call. I opened the front door, then wiped off the keys, leaving them behind the guard's desk. I wiped off the pipe, and left it behind the guard's desk, since we couldn't carry it. Last of all, I emptied Schiller's clip, putting all the bullets in my pocket. I cleared the chamber, and put that bullet in my pocket too. Then I wiped off the gun and the clip, setting them beside the phone.
With a final glance at our two taped prisoners, I grabbed two bags in each hand, and peeked out the door, ready to go.
"Wait." I looked at Destiny, wondering what she wanted. "The stool. We touched the stool."
I saw Sanders roll his eyes, and Schiller sighed. Apparently, he had been counting on those prints. Hurriedly, I rushed over, and wiped every part of that stool, then we left, careful not to touch the door with our hands.