by G J Ogden
“So, what is the reason you need a ship?” Liberty said, breaking the silence, though her voice lacked its earlier prickliness.
“I’m going to be a relic hunter,” said Hudson, but then he snorted a derisory laugh. “Or that was the plan, anyway. But my measly one hundred and fifty thousand credits would barely pay for one of the engines in this ship.”
“A relic hunter?” Liberty repeated back to him, her voice rising in pitch and volume. Then she became coyer, “But they’re all crooks and mercenaries, like the RGF, aren’t they? Not to be trusted?”
Hudson thought of the relic hunters he’d encountered, and it was true that many of them fit Liberty’s description pretty well. But it wasn’t true of them all. Ericka had been different, and so was Ma from the Landing Strip on Brahms Three. And though Tory Bellona was most definitely a mercenary, she certainly wasn’t without honor.
“Not all of them,” said Hudson, smiling over at Liberty, who had folded her legs up onto the seat. “The way I see it, each person chooses who they want to be. And I choose to find my scores without screwing others over.” Liberty didn’t respond, but she was still watching him carefully as Hudson continued to admire the ship. “Hell, it doesn’t matter anyway. Unless I stumble across a briefcase full of hardbucks, I’m trapped on Earth, just like this beautiful ship here.”
Liberty rocked the second seat from side to side. She had her oil-stained fingers pressed together in a cradle, and looked pensive. Hudson couldn’t work out if she was just bored of him wasting her time, or reflecting on what he’d told her. Either way, sitting in the cockpit of the VCX-110 was beginning to make him feel depressed, knowing that he was probably a million credits short of ever owning it.
“I’m sorry, I’ve taken up enough of your time, already,” he said, pushing himself out of the pilot’s chair. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
Hudson’s backside had barely left the padded seat when Liberty said, “She will fly.”
“What’s that?”
“This ship, she’ll fly. I just make it seem like she’s crippled so Swinsler can’t sell her.”
Hudson planted himself back down in the seat and rubbed the back of his head, “But why would you do that?”
“Like I said, I love this ship,” replied Liberty, “so, the only person I’ll let Swinsler sell it to is me. And since he thinks it’s a write off, I know he’ll let it go for a steal.”
“How much?” asked Hudson, now hanging off Liberty’s every word.
“Three hundred, maybe less.”
Hudson nearly fell off the seat. “Three, for this? And you say you can make it fly?”
“I can,” said Liberty, without even the slightest suggestion of doubt.
Hudson flopped back in the seat and shook his head. He then rested his hand on the lapel of Ericka’s old leather jacket, feeling for the crystal. Maybe selling this is the price I’ll have to pay, he wondered. It was certainly true that keeping the crystal was pointless if he couldn’t reach any of the portal worlds. Scavenging inside the wrecks was the only way to hunt for its companion. Then he frowned, realizing something odd about Liberty’s earlier admission.
“Why are you telling me about the ship?” he asked, squinting across at her. “Now I know it’s not a carcass like the others, I could come back here and buy it.”
Liberty smiled, “I don’t think you’d do that, not after me telling you how much I love it.”
Hudson considered slipping into his ‘tough guy’ relic hunter persona and arguing back, but he doubted Liberty would buy it.
“That’s a pretty big assumption,” Hudson replied. Liberty’s statement had intrigued him. “Why do you think that, especially after me admitting I used to be a crooked RGF clobber?”
Liberty shrugged, “Just a feeling, I guess. I know ships and I know people, that’s all.”
Hudson looked around the cockpit and nodded, “Well, you certainly know your ships, I’ll give you that. And I hope you’re right about knowing people too. It makes a change to have someone not think I’m an idiot.”
“I never said you weren’t an idiot,” replied Liberty, with a smirk. Hudson rolled his eyes, but then Liberty was quick to add, “Anyway, I have a proposition for you…”
This interested Hudson enough to let Liberty’s snide comment slide. He pushed himself upright in the chair and turned to face her. “Oh? What proposition is that?”
“You put down your one fifty as a holding deposit on the VCX-110,” Liberty began, to wide-eyed astonishment from Hudson, “and then you and I go relic hunting, bag a decent score, and buy this ship together.”
CHAPTER 5
It took a few moments for Hudson’s brain to fully register what Liberty had suggested, but he still felt the need to check that he’d heard her correctly. “Hang on, let me get this straight,” he said, shuffling further forward on the seat. “You want me to put all my credits down as a deposit on this ship, and then go relic hunting with you?”
“Clearly, old age hasn’t affected your hearing yet,” replied Liberty. From the stark look on her face the snarky response wasn’t intended to be humorous, and Hudson wasn’t laughing. “Swinsler will break the VCX-110 apart and auction off the engines the moment I walk out of here. A deposit is the only way to make sure it stays safe. I have some money saved up; enough to buy the relic hunter licenses and two transport tickets to the closest portal world. After that, it’s up to us.”
“Do you have any idea what relic hunting actually involves?” asked Hudson. He was amazed at how casually she had made the suggestion. It was as if she had proposed nothing more complicated or unusual than popping to the local store to buy some groceries. “Have you even been off-world before?”
“No, I haven’t been off-world before, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” said Liberty, with a flash of annoyance. “And yes, I do know what relic hunting involves.”
“In theory, maybe,” replied Hudson, aware that he was coming across a little condescending, but finding it hard to reign it in. Liberty’s suggestion just seemed so fanciful. “But, there’s a world of difference between theory and actually going on a hunt. The portal worlds are dangerous, and normal laws and rules don’t apply inside those alien wrecks. This isn’t a game, Liberty. People get hurt and even die on these hunts.”
Liberty swung her legs off the seat and spun it to face him. She looked to be fighting hard to hold back her anger, but it was clear to Hudson that he’d pissed her off.
“You think you’re the first person to tell me I can’t do something?” Liberty began, holding Hudson’s eyes with a vice-like grip. “I get it; you look at me and just see a girl with crazy ideas who has no clue how the world works.”
“Hey, I didn’t say that,” Hudson hit back, though if he was honest, he had thought it.
“You didn’t have to,” replied Liberty, folding her arms to stop them from shaking. “I’ve been on my own since I was thirteen; on the streets, fighting to survive. I know how to take care of myself, and to handle myself, because I’ve had no choice.” Liberty stopped to take a breath, but Hudson didn’t interrupt; the fire in her belly had built up and she had to let it out. “But I’ve survived. For seven years I’ve survived and built a life here. But I want more.” Then she looked around the cockpit, which seemed to have a soothing influence on her agitated mood. “I want to see the galaxy.” Then she met Hudson’s eyes again. “I don’t just want to survive, I want to live.”
Hudson felt a shiver run down his spine; it was like Liberty’s words had caused an electric current to flow through his body. However, he was then suddenly back in the cargo hold of the light freighter above Brahms Three, holding Ericka’s dead body in his arms. He shut his eyes and turned away.
“I hear you, Liberty, honestly, I really do,” said Hudson, “and I don’t doubt that you’re a fighter. But there are people who want to hurt me, and if you’re with me, they could hurt you too. I can’t be responsible for that.”
Hudson stood up and paced around the rear of the cockpit, while Liberty watched him eagerly. He couldn’t believe he was contemplating it, but as crazy as her suggestion was, it might actually work. A ship the size of the VCX-110 would benefit from a second crewmember, and Liberty clearly had an aptitude for fixing things. Plus, he couldn’t deny that the idea of someone having his back for a change was appealing. Then he kept thinking about Ericka, and how Griff and Cutler still had a score to settle with him. It wasn’t fair to put that burden on Liberty too.
“Look, I can’t deny that I’m tempted, but you don’t want me as a partner,” said Hudson. “I’m bad news. The last time I teamed up with someone, she ended up dead.”
“I’ll take that chance,” replied Liberty, again without reservation.
Hudson did laugh this time. He’d laid it all on the table and the young woman hadn’t batted an eyelid. “What the hell makes you so sure? I could be a serial killer for all you know.”
“You don’t look like a serial killer,” replied Liberty, dismissively.
“Oh, well that settles it then,” snorted Hudson.
“What? First, you’re annoyed that I think you look like a music professor…”
“I thought it was art?” Hudson interrupted, layering on the sarcasm.
“Art, music, whatever…” Liberty replied, scowling at him, “But now you’re annoyed because I don’t think you look like a murderer?”
“Honestly, it’s probably the nicest thing you’ve said about me so far, so I’ll take it,” said Hudson, smiling.
“Anyway, what makes you so sure that I won’t strangle you in your sleep?” Liberty added. “You know as much about me as I know about you.”
Hudson shrugged, “Intuition, I guess. I’ve known a lot of grade-A assholes over the years and have tuned my radar to detect them. You check out.” Then he paused for effect and added, “So far…”
Liberty smiled, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Then her expression hardened a touch. “Look, I realize this all seems crazy, but I have a feeling about you too. You’re a pretty open book, Hudson Powell, and there’s something about you that I don’t see in a lot of people these days.”
Hudson raised an eyebrow, “Gullibility?” he suggested, with a slight smirk.
“Decency,” said Liberty, completely straight-faced.
Hudson sighed, “That’s not always a trait that’s served me well,” he replied, realizing how doing the right thing had rarely worked in his favor. “But I appreciate it, thanks.”
“So, do we have an agreement, Hudson Powell, ex RGF cop and wannabe relic hunter?”
“An agreement is usually fair,” said Hudson, realizing that the terms of their barter were more than a little lopsided. “I put down a hundred and fifty grand up-front, but then we split the ship, fifty-fifty? I might be decent, but I’m no mug.”
“Without me, this ship isn’t going anywhere,” Liberty replied, without hesitation. She’d clearly already prepared an answer to Hudson’s question. “It would cost you double your deposit to get another shipyard to fix it up.” Then she smiled, “Besides, you also get the pleasure of my company.”
Hudson shook his head. He couldn’t believe what he was about to do, but it was just the continuation of a succession of crazy events. And something Liberty had said still resonated with him. I don’t want to survive. I want to live. Hudson had merely survived for the last twenty years. Now it was time to live.
“I must be out of my mind,” said Hudson, extending a hand towards Liberty. “But, Liberty Devan, ace engineer and soon-to-be royal pain in my ass, we have a deal.”
CHAPTER 6
Hudson toyed with his empty whiskey tumbler while he stared down at the two new relic hunter ID cards on the table. It had turned out to be far easier to acquire the licenses than he had imagined. It had merely involved the usual tedium of bureaucratic form-filling, followed by the handing over of a fat wedge of cash. The latter had been supplied to Hudson by Liberty Devan, without any reservations.
Remarkably, the young engineer had handed Hudson the money – a good chunk of her personal savings – before he’d even paid the deposit on the VCX-110. This spoke volumes about the amazing level of trust she had placed in him. Hudson didn’t understand why he merited it. However, it made him feel good to know there was at least one person in the galaxy who believed in him.
Initially, the ease with which he’d acquired the licenses made him wonder why more people didn’t sign up to be hunters. Then he’d got to the fine print of the license agreement and everything had become clear. It was full of fun little phrases, such as, ‘By accepting this license you hereby waive all rights under CET, MP and OPW law while operating inside alien wreck sites.’ Or, in other words, if you enter a wreck, you’re on your own… He also enjoyed the entry, ‘Should you be killed while operating inside an alien wreck, you hereby agree that the RGF can seize all assets up to the cost of any recovery operation to retrieve and repatriate your body, without limitation.’ In RGF speak that basically meant they could take you for everything you had, just as they had done to Hudson, though under different circumstances.
For most people, the relic hunter license would have read like a permit to forfeit your life and your assets. Yet none of the legal jargon had deterred Hudson in the slightest. All it amounted to was a giant disclaimer that allowed the controlling authorities to wash their hands of the hunters, should they come to a sticky end. At the same time, it granted the RGF even more opportunities to rip people off – alive or dead. Hudson had seen enough of the CET and RGF in action to know that – license agreement or not – both organizations would act the same way, regardless. The license hunter agreement just created less paperwork.
Hudson knew what he was getting himself into, and was prepared to accept the risks. He’d already witnessed the chaos inside a wreck first hand, and right now he had nothing to lose. Then he looked down at Liberty’s ID card, studying the young, serious face staring back at him. He hoped that she really was prepared for what awaited them. And he hoped she was genuinely as tough and wily as she’d claimed to be. Because making it out of the alien wreck with a decent score would require all of their combined guile and fortitude.
Hudson heard the door to the bar swing open, and looked up, expecting to see Liberty breeze in with the transport tickets. But instead of blue-grey coveralls, he saw the unmistakable blue-black uniform of the RGF. “Shit…” cursed Hudson, under his breath, as he recognized the two officers. The first was Corporal Violet Hodges and the second was her partner, Officer Ricky Yang. Both had been in the same unit as Hudson, and while neither was as abhorrent and detestable as Logan Griff, they both registered strongly on Hudson’s asshole radar.
Hudson shuffled his chair to the side so that his back was to the bar, hoping that neither of the two would recognize him. Thankfully, the two RGF cops just proceeded to the counter without paying much attention to the rest of the room. Hudson let out a breathy sigh and then topped up his tumbler with another shot from the whiskey bottle he’d bought with Liberty’s hardbucks. It was like drinking milk compared to the stuff Ma served up, but its warming and mildly soporific effect was still welcome.
The door opened again and Hudson glanced over, careful that no-one at the bar could see his face. He saw Liberty appear inside and stop just past the threshold. She peered around the room, until she spotted Hudson at the small table by the window, and then waved at him.
“Hudson! I got them!” she called out, as if she were talking about tickets to ringside seats at the next WrestleMania. Then she hurried over to him, drawing annoyed stares from other patrons of the bar, whose quiet afternoon drinks Liberty’s hollering had just shattered.
Hudson tried to act as if Liberty’s call wasn’t aimed at him, and then chanced another quick glance towards the bar. This time
Hodges and Yang were looking straight at him. He pressed his eyes shut and swore again, before turning away sharply and silently cursing his luck.
“Are you taking a nap?”
Hudson opened his eyes to see Liberty slide into the chair opposite, smiling broadly.
“We’re going to need to work on you being a little more discreet,” said Hudson, humorlessly. “Relic hunting is a sneaky business, which means not announcing who we are to a bar full of people.”
“My, aren’t we grumpy?” replied Liberty. Then she noticed the ID card on the table and picked it up excitedly.
“You look like a youth offender in that photo,” said Hudson, grinning and taking another swig of whiskey.
Liberty scowled and then peered down at the photo on Hudson’s license. “Hmm, I take it back, you actually do look like a serial killer.”
Hudson quickly snatched back his license and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He then picked up the half-empty bottle of whiskey. “Speaking of killing,” he said as he poured a measure into a clean tumbler on the table, filling it to the brim. “We need to seal our arrangement properly, through the act of murdering some brain cells.”
Liberty looked at the glass and then turned up her nose, “Ugh, no way, that stuff tastes worse than mouthwash.”
“As your captain, I insist,” said Hudson, sliding the tumbler towards Liberty, spilling some of the contents onto the table as he did so.
“We’re in this fifty-fifty, remember, so why do you get to be captain?”
Hudson sat back in the chair and held up his glass, “Can you fly a VCX-110?”
Liberty scowled again, “Well, no, not exactly…”
“Then that makes me the captain,” said Hudson, smirking, “Now, have a drink with your captain or you’ll hurt his feelings.”
“Fine,” growled Liberty, picking up the tumbler, “If it will shut you up.”
They both knocked back the contents in one, but while Hudson swallowed the amber liquor as effortlessly as water, Liberty looked like she was experiencing a medical emergency.