The Liquidation Order

by Jett Lang

“So she developed a pattern after meeting this lover of hers?”

  “Yeah. His father runs an arms and munitions company in competition with ours, so her man had access to some serious capital. They tooled around, city to city, having a merry old fuckfest. I think they were together for maybe a year and half before dad finally caught wind of it. By that time, she was thinking marriage. He was . . . upset.”

  “A marriage between two future owners in the same business category seems optimal,” Five-Nine said. “Pool resources, corner the market, foster good will.”

  “My dad isn’t the sharing type. He’s the ‘personal lives second, competitive edge first’ guy. Old school brand-warfare is how he gets his jollies. He saw what might happen to his company if my sister and her man got hitched.”

  “And he told you to hire someone,” Queen said.

  “He leveraged my income and inheritance, so I had no choice. I covered my trail; I hired someone else to kill the man I hired to find the actual hit men.”

  “We found you anyway. Not too thorough,” she said. “Your mistake was contracting out too many people. You hire one group or one person. It leaves fewer breadcrumbs.”

  “Don’t tell me how to do my job.” Philip gave her a wrathful look.

  “If your job is hiring assassins, then you’re shit at it.” She browsed through the other logs. “What does she say in these calls?”

  Five-Nine’s built-in radio interrupted. Jack’s static-ridden voice came through on the other end: “Trouble comin’ down the pipe. Unmarked hovercraft landed three spaces over. Squad of armored men popped out just now. Nasty hardware.”

  “Human?” Five-Nine said.

  “Can’t confirm.”

  “Are you ready to extract?”

  “As soon as you get here. I’d hurry your asses up. Over and out.” Jack signed off.

  Five-Nine yanked Philip up by the arm. Queen moved his chair aside and kneeled down, unplugged the computer and collected both it and the external storage drive. She spotted a faded brown rucksack in the corner and tucked the electronics inside, latched it closed. She strapped the rucksack across her back, did a final sweep of the room and left. The lights dimmed behind her.

  The robot already had a complaining Philip out in the hallway, his voice growing loud and panicked. She had her machine pistol at the ready as soon as she caught up with them. The entrance swished open and closed behind her. A corridor of numbered autodoors flanked them on each side. Five-Nine turned Philip right, back the way they had come, the machine’s Super Glock leading the way. Queen walked backwards and watched behind. A balding, middle-aged man stared curiously at her from outside his apartment, CID card in hand.

  Just as she was about to turn, a squad of black-suited juggernauts came into view at the far side of the corridor, two-by-two. The bald man ducked into his apartment. As they drew closer, Queen saw that their powered armor was dented and scraped along the torso and helm. Latest model assault rifles were held against their chests. Professional gear. Great. The leader of the pack caught sight of her and threw some order-lingo to his men. Two turned around. Three moved toward her.

  She rounded a spray-bombed corner and entered the stairwell beside the elevators. Five-Nine and Philip’s footfalls echoed over concrete. She took the steps two at a time. The narrow vertical windows illuminated her ascent. Outside, Angel Bay’s downtown. Hover traffic swarmed above the hub like funneled locusts.

  “Company behind us,” she called. She was one flight of stairs short of Five-Nine and Wayne’s son. On cue, the door two stories below slammed open, and the three juggernauts poured in and upward.

  Queen heard Philip grunt, and then there was only a single pair of footsteps above her.

  “Hurry up. My hands are full!”

  She knew those juggernauts could snap her in half if they got ahold of her. She pushed her augmented body as far as she could, her synthetic muscles taking the strain where her organics could not. Three at a time, she climbed the steps, the metal-on-concrete sound getting louder and louder below. When she reached the top, she threw the weight of her shoulder against the blue steel push door.

  Coast sunshine flooded over her. The stairwell door on the opposite side of the roof burst outward, and a juggernaut lumbered forward, trained its weapon on her. Queen squeezed off two shots, each finding the armor’s weak points: the circular eyeports. Blood and brain sprayed out the back of the helm. The hulk collapsed against the graveled floor.

  Queen’s arms shook from the kickback. High-impact rounds in a heavy strength machine pistol. Her shoulders would be feeling that for a while.

  The door swung shut. The second juggernaut did not emerge.

  Five-Nine carried Philip past her. They weaved between occupied hoverpads. A fair number of the vehicles had been gutted and stripped for parts; those with decent security systems were pristine, and politely asked them to “Step away from the vehicle.” Gravel crunched underfoot as Five-Nine led them to Jack’s position.

  She lost view of the door they had run out of, but she heard it slam open in the distance. The remaining juggernauts were probably dispersing into two-man teams, closing in faster than she cared for.

  She risked a glance to her left, saw the unmarked hovercraft Jack mentioned. The window was perforated and melted; the sizzling pilot was slumped over his flight wheel – a Winnow’s work. If she had to put money on it, these were covert operatives for Wayne or a freelance group. But who hired them?

  A volley of bullets shredded a ventilator turbine next to her. She dropped behind a hovercraft, and inched over to peek around the other corner. Her head wasn’t out for a second before another team opened fire, rounds sparking off the craft’s framework. They’d have a line of sight on her if she stepped into either lane. She was trapped. Five-Nine and Philip were nowhere to be seen.

  They’d left her.

  The juggernauts ceased firing and began to advance. In several moments, she’d be staring at the wrong end of their muzzle-flash. This was how it ended: on a roof in the Angel Bay slums. Not what she expected.

  A dark figure dashed to the right. It was gone by the time she could react. She extended her pistol, searching for a target. Was there another squad? How many could she take out before they finished her off?

  The footfalls on either side of her came to an abrupt halt. Gunfire from the right lane kicked up gravel-dust beside her, but the shots ceased when a cry of pain ripped through the air. Sound of screeching metal. Queen looked around the corner, and there was Five-Nine, standing over the piled corpses of two squad members. The robot had what looked like ice axes in his hands. Blood and sunlight was captured on the carbon blades. The machine jogged over and pulled her up by her arm.

  “Quickly now. They are upset.”

  Jack’s hovercraft had its left passenger-side door open and ready for them. Five-Nine climbed up, slid in beside Philip. The steel door sealed as soon as Queen was in.

  Out the pilot viewport, the rooftop dropped out from under them and exposed the downtown horizon. The swarming traffic was frantic and dazzling in the afternoon sun. A desperate spray of bullets pelted her side of the craft. Jack hit the throttle, and planted his passengers against the leather upholstery.

  The hovercraft merged with the flow of traffic, becoming an anonymous wedge of steel among many.

  ※

  “Cut it a little close, didn’t you?” Queen said.

  They were flying into the heart of Angel Bay, arcologies and DNA-shaped skyscrapers cropped together, interconnected. The traffic was dense, but Jack maneuvered through. Passed around or over anyone too slow for his liking. Almost everyone was too slow for his liking.

  “Our precious cargo is priority one. He has vital information,” Five-Nine said.

  Philip sat next to the machine, sulking. He stared out the passenger window, watching a flight of hovercrafts bank into the hangar bay of a steel superstructure. He couldn’t exactly escape. Unless he had a parachute tucked in his boxer shorts.<
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  “Just throw me a warning next time, yeah?” she said. Then, pointing to the robot’s axes. “Those look new. Mr. Chamber getting into the climbing gear business now?”

  Five-Nine dragged a white microcloth over the bloodied weapons. “He thought it best I perform a test run. That is all I am authorized to say.”

  “I guess Grade Four armor will be yesterday’s headline when he starts mass production.”

  Five-Nine folded the axes and slipped both into its trench coat. Looked blankly ahead. Helpful response.

  “Where are we taking the young master here?” she said.

  “Jack has the coordinates. You will find out when we arrive.”

  “Those grunts hit somethin’; I should check it out,” Jack called back.

  “That will be taken care of when we land. We cannot dock in the city.”

  “No reason they’d send only one team after Wayne’s son. There’s probably more,” Queen said.

  The robot regarded the red and white cloth in its hand. “Yes. We need to get out of this city before anything happens. The waypoint, Jack.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’m headed there.”

  She eased back against her black leather seat. Out the window, she saw skyscrapers brandishing the King Weapon Designs logo. Gold crown above a crossed rifle and sword. It was a symbol of corporate power – a royal crest in another place and time. In-house problems threatened to sunder that power now. She remembered the tension in the audio log. In Syntheia’s voice. In Philip’s feigned detachment.

  A worthy heir to a dead enterprise.

  ※

  The bunker was three hundred miles northwest of Angel Bay and half a mile beneath the white desert. It had its own self-sustaining environment, provisions, facilities, and robotic staff. As soon as Jack landed, a complement of the latter, their chrome skeletons polished, attended to their baggage and refreshment needs. The server robots had two arms, but the mechanics working on their vehicle were four armed and twice as dexterous. Their reflective faces held one red eye, their joints thinner than Five-Nine’s.

  Nursing a water bottle, Queen watched the hangar silo above seal against the inrushing sand. Vacuum funnels near the rim intercepted any falling grains, keeping the floor she stood upon impeccable. The LED rings lighting the launch tunnel went out when the hatch re-pressurized. White LEDS in the floor and along the top edge of the reinforced concrete walls kept the garage illuminated.

  Philip sat on a wall-mounted workbench. Beside him, Jack stood with his Winnow pistol and sawed-off shotgun on his hips. His pilot suit was unzipped, and she could see his bulletproof gel-vest. Queen wore the same underneath her undershirt and grey desert jacket. The vest stabilized body temperature in extreme conditions and protected the wearer from any bullet type short of explosive. Presently, the vest maintained a pleasant seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit. Queen strode over to the pair, weaving between metal supply crates.

  “Hey, Jack,” she said.

  “Hey, Queen.” He regarded her, his dark brows upraised. “Are we on speaking terms again?”

  “For now.”

  Philip snatched a turkey sandwich from a server robot’s tray. He unwrapped it noisily, bit a healthy portion off. His right cheek bulged while he chewed, and his mouth remained partially open. His smile was a white rictus directed at Queen.

  “So what’s up?” Jack said.

  She turned her attention back to Jack. “Have any idea where we are?”

  Once they had left the terraformed forests around Angel Bay’s outlying area, the land had gradually shifted to sand and cracked earth. It wasn’t familiar. The sand was bleached like snow and clumped oddly together in some parts.

  “The Tohu Salt Desert,” Jack said. “Surprised you’ve never been, bein’ the travelin’ type and all.”

  “My routes between city-states were always direct. We seem to be out in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Apparently there’s an ancient underground city buried in these parts.” Jack gestured upward. “Brings in tourists and scientific research teams galore. There’re several water-tribes around, too, if I remember right. They each have their own ‘sacred’ oasis, and are pretty adamant about defendin’ them. Water is life and yadda-yadda. As long as we stay out of their territory, we got nothing to worry about.”

  “Are you worried?”

  Jack shrugged and looked over his shoulder. “Only about Philip’s table manners. I mean, really man, does that sandwich owe you money? Be gentle, savor it.”

  Philip smacked louder. Queen reached over and jabbed his throat without warning. He almost choked, gulped hastily.

  “The fuck, bitch?” Voice wet, airy, and full of anger. He slipped from the workbench and got up in Queen’s face. She blinked.

  “Let’s all calm our tits,” Jack said, and placed himself between them. “Don’t need damaged cargo, do we?”

  Philip hesitated. Glanced at Jack, Queen. A special evil-eye for her, then he relaxed. He returned to his perch and ate his sandwich, mouth closed.

  “That’s a good boy.” Jack sat down on a padded stool adjacent to the workbench. He looked up at Queen, a subdued expression on him.

  “I am worried about something, yeah.” It wasn’t quite a whisper.

  “You think Chamber wants us dead, too?” That was her worry, ever since she’d been brought to the man’s office.

  Philip stopped chewing.

  Jack nodded. “We’ve seen his face. This whole business revolves around anonymity, and once that’s removed there’s nothin’ between us and counter-liquidation. He’ll have to subtract us. His reputation can’t be tarnished.”

  “I need to come out of this employed again, simple as that. There’s one path available, and we’re on it.” She slumped onto the seat beside Jack; her legs were killing her. It’d been a long time since she’d been this tired.

  Jack put an arm about her shoulders. He tugged, gently, at the hair along her nape. He smiled, and so did she.

  “I’d have told you about Chamber if I could,” he said.

  “I know.”

  Heavy hands lowered upon their shoulders. She tilted her head back. Five-Nine’s radar green eyes stared down, its grey face shining.

  “Am I missing a scintillating moment?” it said. Its fedora was set at a rakish angle, over what might be considered the forehead. A low, disconcerting buzz pervaded in the silence that followed. Queen wasn’t positive where the sound originated. It unnerved her.

  “Just idle human banter about manners and yonder salt desert,” Jack said. He jerked a thumb at Philip. “What’s in store for him?”

  “Good question,” Philip muttered. He crumpled his cellophane wrapper into a stress ball, squeezed and released.

  Five-Nine’s hand slid away from her. It set a steel stool in front them, then sat. It clamped one hand upon the kneecap of its dark dress pants and another along the right side of its jaw and cheek. It took each of them in at a glance. For an instant, she thought the machine was about to psychoanalyze them.

  “I have reported our first success to Mr. Chamber. He is happy, or as happy as a man can be in his position. However, he is also concerned. An inspection crew was sent to Heaven’s Gate and found only residual signs of the men that attacked us. Details are too sparse to discern the orchestrator.”

  “I think we can take Wayne out of the equation,” Queen said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You don’t send a squad of walking tanks to extract; you send them to destroy. Philip here is an asset to Wayne, or, at the very least, a son.”

  “A quality deduction,” Five-Nine said, golf clapping. “Our data on Wayne is, sadly, limited, so we cannot guess at his thought process. Allow me the role of devil’s advocate: Wayne could very well have sent those men to eliminate his son, who, having been tracked down, was a detriment to the continued secrecy of his family’s dynamics. The audio log did not ring too harmoniously, would you say?”

  “I’m not disputing that. I hav
e an issue with time. It’s been a month since Chamber’s son was killed, something Wayne set in motion. He knew his daughter would find out who pulled the strings, knew she was intelligent and driven enough to hone in quickly.” Queen stretched her arms out over her head, heard her spine crack. “So why, if we’re assuming he needed Philip out of the picture, wouldn’t he eliminate him as soon as the job was done? Why leave evidence? Alternatively, if he wanted to protect his son, why would he not force him to a safer location? If it’s Wayne, none of this is logical.”

  “Humans do not always adhere to logic.”

  “But they do adhere to paranoia. In his situation, I’d have killed Philip, no question. The end game is to get the daughter on the company throne, not the boys. The boys are a liability, as the log proved.”

  Philip threw the cellophane ball at her. “Go to hell.”

  “After you.”

  “Children, please,” Jack said.

  Five-Nine scratched its cheek, a sound like the sharpening of blades. “Let us assume you are correct, for the moment: Wayne is innocent. Do you suspect Syntheia? She would require significant capital for those hirelings. Her father was not sending enough to cover the expense.”

  “Then she earned it on her own,” Queen said.

  “Our reports say she was not registered as an employed resident of Prosperity. You imply she works off the record, which entails illicitly-acquired funds.”

  “Prosperity is known for its black markets and underground networks. It matches her personality to the letter.”

  “To the letter,” the robot echoed. It faced Philip. “Do you agree with this assessment?”

  He swung his legs under the workbench. “That my sister wants me dead? Yeah. She knows I put her man down. It’s not like it was different in the past, though. We’ve been fighting since we learned to speak.”

  “Are we monitoring Wayne’s other son?” she said.

  “Spy drones sighted him today. His patterns are unaltered.”

  “So he’s not aware he’s being tracked. Not yet.”

  “It is of no concern to us.” Five-Nine nodded to Philip. “We only need one brother to find the sister.” When Queen tried to say more, the machine held up its hand. “Speculation is at an end. Your current task is as follows: await repairs to our vessel and speak with young Philip here.” It stood. The shadow it cast divided the light between Jack and Queen.