Exile: Arc

by Jack Lance

  They walked together out of the secret gym and along a staff corridor to a fire door that opened in on a cosy shop selling many different kinds of ale. They walked through and out onto one of the upper gallerias of gambling joints in the Beldin building.

  In between each of the virtual reality stores along either side of the broad corridor were niche shops and market stalls selling everything that could be needed. As Barton passed a coffee stall he gestured to Faye to wait as the large man within poured out a dark coffee, and sandwich.

  “Black market coffee. The best coffee on the planet right here.” he said to Faye, then asked. “How much?”

  “On the house, Mr Beldin. Please come again.” the man said warmly, sporting a mish-mash of accents.

  Beldin sipped it and insisted that Faye take a sip also, as they walked the rest of the distance along the galleria corridor. At the farthest end of the gallery of store fronts they entered the wide opening of the fast food restaurant, and waded through it’s playschool-esque décor to the common service door Thom had used the previous day. Entering the same code on the keypad they slipped into the place behind the restaurant packed with out of control families, and closed the door firmly behind them.

  Along another thin corridor of many code-locked doors, they took the one at the end and entered a large, noisy arena half full of fight fans, and bookmakers. In the centre of the arena were two rings, both hosting brutal bare knuckle fights.

  As Barton and Faye entered a spotlight shone around onto him and followed him as he walked through the crowd area to the VIP zone close to the rings.

  “Please welcome… “ the loud commentator yelled. “The man who made all this possible… Barton Beldin Junior!”

  Barton waved at the cheering crowds, smiling his rehearsed smile, while continuing on toward the curtains on the far side. At the point where Flynn Randall had entered the previous day, Barton and Faye left the arena and turned toward the Medical wing.

  “Now if I’m not interested in this guy, I can’t have him staying here any longer. You got that, Faye?”

  “Understood.”

  “I won't kill the poor fool, but the syndicate isn’t a place for waifs and strays. I mean we’ve only got so much medicine.” They walked through the Emergency ward, raising voices over the groaning fighters.

  “I understand. It's good of you to be concerned by what you leave behind.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Barton eyed her as they entered the In Patient ward and walked over to the closed door to Bailey’s room. Faye looked in at Bailey and he sat up straight in bed, watching them both through the small window.

  “Barton!” a voice shouted from the room beside Bailey’s. “Faye!”

  They stopped as Randall limped to the open door and shook their hands. His face was swollen and cut badly.

  “I heard you won. Congratulations, Flynn.” Barton said. “You know you don’t need to fight anymore. We’ll be gone in a week”

  Randall smiled at them, leaning against the door for support. “I like to fight. And I’m not sure if I’m coming with you, friend.”

  “I expected it.” Barton said leaning against the door in full view of Bailey. “You and Faye we’re meant to be together. We can all see that now.”

  “We will help you until the last hour. To the end, right?” Faye said, turning to Barton.

  “Heh, yeah. The South Syndicate way. Well this escape is going nowhere until we can find a good enough hacker to take those auto-guards offline. All our hackers seem to die mysteriously.”

  “Chester Barron.” Faye said bluntly.

  “I have every faith in Chester. He’s united the syndicates for the first time in more than a century. We don’t ask where we come from here in South Syndicate. Only where we want to go. You know this is the way.”

  “But escape? It’s a huge responsibility for someone with his past. You’re putting your lives in his hands.” Faye said.

  “So this is why you’ve pulled out.” Barton smiled.

  “It’s the main reason.” Randall looked at him with his one unswollen eye,

  Bailey watched this conversation, unable to hear what was being said through the air-sealed medical door. Somewhere inside, something he possessed transcended this handicap. He watched their mouths closely, reading each word with the shape of their lips.

  South Syndicate? Escape? Shortage of hackers? Fate smiles on us my beautiful friend.

  Bailey had to concentrate hard to read their lips. The skill was so raw within him. So primal and basic it unnerved him with every word understood.

  “Well, let’s see this ‘prize fighter’ of yours then.” Barton said and opened the door for Faye.

  Faye walked in and to the bedside.

  “Aaron Bailey? I got your name right didn’t I? This is Barton Beldin. His family run the black market in this quadrant of the prison. I’ve brought him here… because uhh… Well, he might have some employment opportunities for you. Yes!” Faye said and looked to Barton for help.

  “Hello Mr Bailey.” he said. “Faye is right. I may have a place for you in our organization. I just need to take a look at you walking around for a few moments. That’s all. Can you do that for me?”

  Bailey, still instinctively scared from his ordeal with the gang pulled his covers up to his chin and closed his eyes.

  “Damn it Faye. He can’t even get out of bed. Look at him!”

  Get out of bed!

  Bailey, with a tear in his eye pulled the covers down baring his chest. He twisted and stepped out of bed in the hospital pants he’d been given.

  Barton, not saying anymore looked at Bailey intensely. He surveyed the Lantis markings, thick across his upper back in a near symmetrical pattern, and the broad spots up the bottom of his neck and the tops of his arms.

  “You are powerful.” Barton grinned intensely. “I can pay you 15 in diamond cubit.”

  “Million?” Faye asked, and looked to her partner who now stood in the doorway, also surveying Bailey’s markings.

  “See you in the ring.” Randall smirked and limped back to his room.

  Faye sighed at him, but it couldn’t spoil her excitement. “Thank you so much.”

  “My gift to you. My final gift.” Barton said walking Faye to the door. He turned and pointed to Bailey. ”That’s all for now. I’ll come back soon.”

  Do as I say. Solar defences. Hacks.

  “You haven’t even asked why I was sent here.” Bailey said.

  Barton turned back and walked to the end of his bed. “Where you’re from matters not here on South Syndicate. Only where you want to go. You don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to.”

  “It’s no secret.” Bailey shrugged. “I was working with terrorists. Hacking solar defence grids.”

  “That’s some complicated stuff. You can do all that?”

  Now reel him in.

  “I’m one of the best in the colonies. I strive to be better than the best.”

  “Well, I won’t argue with that. Seems like old Barton got his money’s worth again.” he smiled and Bailey smiled back. “You’re new to the colony right. Fresh out of psycho wing I hear. No, don’t worry. Even if you are loopy we can fix all of that. Faye, you fill him in on the prison details. I need him clued in by the time I get back.”

  Bailey liked Barton, and the easy connection he felt with him. Maybe it was a cool talent Barton used with everyone but still Bailey found it to his liking.

  Leaving, Barton said “I’ll bring my wife next time. She’s the clever one. And we may have a proposal for you. I’ll sign you onto the books as a fighter for now, so get healthy. Can you do that?”

  Still a little shy, Bailey nodded, and with a final smile, Barton Beldin was gone. Faye, in the doorway looked at Bailey a moment before following him.

  You told no lie. Only the sweetest poetry.

  “You’re getting on my nerves.” Bailey said in the empty room.

  At the far end of the corrid
or Barton said a few words to Faye and left, while Faye returned to her post with the matron.

  Bailey stood with the door standing slightly ajar until they had gone, and then leaned his head outside, checking up and down the way before looking across at the man on the bed in the opposite room.

  He’s not breathing. Who is he? He’s got a nice coat.

  Bailey looked around again before walking casually over and into the open door. He walked around the bed and knelt down beside the old man’s face, covered partially over by the bed sheet. His lips were pulled back over his teeth, and he stared ahead coldly, on his side.

  Dead?

  Bailey pressed his fingers under then man’s neck, then whispered “Dunno.”

  He’s dead alright. Grab his wallet and anything else in his pockets.

  Bailey thought for a moment then did so and with the dead man’s belongings filling his pants pockets he strolled back out into the corridor. There he noticed the fighter, Flynn Randall standing in his own doorway, watching him with one eye. They stood a moment looking at one another, before Randall said “What are you up to?”

  We can use him.

  Bailey smirked and pointed at Randall’s swollen face “You might want to get that looked at.”

  Bailey then walked slowly back into his room and then in a panic emptied his pockets into a drawer he had been given, and pushed them to the back, out of sight.

  He looked at the door to see if Randall or anyone else was about to follow him, and seeing that they hadn’t, he reached back into the drawer and took to hand the dead man’s Stable-License, for the operation of automobiles and airmobiles, not that there would be many airmobiles on this colony. It read “Gen Colec” for name, and “Importer/ Exporter” as a role.

  “Is this good?” Bailey asked quietly.

  Let’s find out.

  The Retro League.

  When Barton and his wife returned the next day, they saw though the window in the door, that the bed was empty.

  “Faye!” Barton yelled at her as she did something at the far end of the corridor. “Where is our man, Faye?”

  “Oh… You enrolled him in the fight leagues…” she said pointing with her clipboard.

  “No! No! No!” Barton yelled as he and his wife ran along the corridor in the direction of the hidden places housing the combat rings.

  “You’ll need to be quick!” Faye yelled after them as they disappeared though the Outpatient doors.

  The commentator was already introducing Bailey’s fight.

  “And in the blue corner, we have Flynn Randall! Bookies favorite versus the red corner, newcomer to these leagues, Aaron Bailey!”

  Bailey sat alone in his corner watching the man he had mocked and insulted the previous day opposite him as he was massaged and pep talked by his trainers.

  Suddenly he saw Barton and Cix Beldin crash through a group of officials at the side of the ring, and then leaned at him through the bottom of the ropes.

  “This is a mistake!” Barton yelled over the bloodthirsty crowd. “I’ll stop this right now. This man is a killer, Bailey.”

  Not seeing his boss at the ring side the commentator gestured for Bailey to come and start the fight. Randall had seen them but didn’t seem to care.

  “Relax.” Bailey said and walked to the center of the ring.

  “Last man breathing wins.” the official said and then jumped back, out of the way of the two men.

  Flynn Randall towered over Bailey, who was a clearly weaker character by far. He punched once into his palm and then lurched forward, as Bailey tap stepped aside. Randall had seen this move countless times before and righted himself to face Bailey again.

  Bailey pressed gently from one foot so that he stood on Randall’s slightly crouching knee, and then used that leverage to step up to kick at Randall’s head. He kicked at one temple and brought the same foot back over to slap the opposite temple.

  Bailey landed smoothly, then arrowing his fingers sliced forward into Randall’s throat, tearing the tubes within.

  Randall took a step back as the various ruptured pressure points began to smother him. He kicked slightly at the floor and then slipped down and flopped onto his back.

  Bailey casually stepped up to him and looked down at his twitching opponent, eclipsing the harsh glare of the ceiling lamps to his eyes.

  “All done?” Bailey smiled lazily.

  Randall stared up at him through his swelling face and using the last tiny bit of breath he had said “Fair fight.”

  Bailey turned and raised his arms over his head as Randall began slipping into the next world.

  Nurses ran up into the ring and began waving instruments over him.

  The crowd cheered and Bailey let it wash over him as he hurdled over the ropes and landed on the red carpet leading back a shower block.

  He passed through two curtains to the row of showers and locked himself in one of the ceramic cubicles, then noticing Barton and Cix Beldin filing into the room after him.

  “Get out! Everyone, get out!” Cix yelled at the others who were there.

  They all left without objection and then Bailey was alone with the South Syndicate family. Bailey continued to wash in the small cubicle, still able to see them over the ceramic door that closed it in.

  “That was pretty stupid but it was our fault I guess.” Barton said. “We need a quick word.”

  “I gathered that.” Bailey said eyeing them through a mass of soap bubbles he’d squeezed over his face.

  Barton gestured to his wife, a tall, slender woman with even whiter hair than Faye.

  “This is Cix Beldin, my wife. She wants to talk to you about your claims.”

  “Claims?” Bailey said cocking his head slightly at him.

  “Solar grid hacking is quite a skill.” Cix smiled at him. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

  Bailey blew air through his lips and thought for a second.

  “Where to begin?” he said, then listened to that dark impulse well up from its deep place within him.

  Specialty being defence grids. Parrot fashion, angel child.

  “I was caught helping a small band of terrorists hack a solar defence grid. I had specialized in testing defence grids for Cequodus Dynasty, but when my job was axed and replaced with a robot, I sold my knowledge to opposing forces.”

  “Cequodus defence grids, then?” she said. “So you know all about the parabol algorithm?”

  “Yeah.” Bailey smiled. “Only that’s a governmental code from Earth, not Lantis or Cequodus.”

  Cequodus was but one of many corporate dynasties that had evolved from the society of their home planet, Lantis. Each dynasty had their own defence codes, and nuances to their defence. Earth also, one of their neighbours in the galaxy, would have their own dynasties, authorities and defence programs. Bailey hoped they wouldn’t quiz him on them all.

  “Well that’s right.” she nodded solemnly. “But I’ll want a little more than that.”

  “Whatever you need.” Bailey smiled at them both, and they smiled back, seemingly exited by the direction their makeshift interview was going.

  Cix handed him a small, handheld computer from her handbag that he then rested on the top of the door, away from the spraying water.

  “Take this.” she said, and Bailey looked down into the touch-screen display, its display lifting slightly up from flat in a hologram. “It’s a simulation of the solar defence grid that secures this solar system. It has been custom designed to prevent us from escaping should we ever make it off the planet, which none of us ever have, so far as we know. I want you to confuse the defences so to….”

  Bailey, who had sunk his fingers into the hologram and had been tapping commands into the simulation with inhuman speed, handed her the computer and interrupted “The defences are down.”

  “Err.” she stammered and looked to Barton, who shrugged, grinning. “Completely down? Ah, I see. Well, I guess that’s… superlative!”

  “Easy wh
en you know how, I suppose. Right Bailey?” Barton winked at Bailey.

  “We’ve had a lot of trouble finding someone with these talents. We admit we have a little shortage here in our syndicate. We’re not sure about the others. And if they have any, well they haven’t shared them with us.”

  “What do you want me to do? Hack the solar defences? Is that what you’re asking me to do?” Bailey pressed.

  “Well talk like that can get you killed here in the colony.” Barton said grimly. “This was just to test your claims. But I guess you passed, so…”

  “I believe you.” Cix said, patting the side of the cubicle gently. “We have many teams working under us here in South Syndicate. I’m sure we can find one that can use someone like you.”

  “Well done.” Barton shrugged as they turned to leave, then turned and asked “Oh one more thing. Where are you going to be living?”

  “I don’t know.” Bailey spoke with a note of fear.

  “We will assign you somewhere nice. Somewhere in South Syndicate village with us.”

  “Sounds delightful.” Bailey smiled shyly.

  “Think naught of it. When you’re ready, I’ll have someone take you there. Get your stuff together, whatever it may be.”

  Bailey’s cheeks flushed once they were gone, and he looked sadly at his shoulder bag on the bench opposite, containing Gen Colec’s stolen IDs.

  “They were nice?” Bailey sighed.

  There were no words from the darkness, and for once Bailey felt a little glad.

  A little later the nurse, Faye Scotia came and told Bailey it was time to go. Bailey gathered up the small shoulder sling while Faye finished her run down of the dangers of the colony. She sat on the corner of the bench beside the lockers and spoke to him where he stood, drying off slightly in his clothes.

  "You'd be wise to stick with us. There is no central authority here." Faye said. "The robots are all one hive mind. This is their system and they don't give a fuck about us. Make no mistake about that. Get a stake here or you'll dissolve away like the rest of them."

  "Sure, yeah." Bailey said shaking a hand through his damp hair.

  “Now like I said, you have South and East syndicates, that essentially concentrate bootlegged material from the civil rationing systems, with a backbone of gambling and other hardline shit. But the biggest game in town is Old Gang. They are the oldest and biggest syndicate on the colony, and they have spies everywhere. If they see you somewhere alone they’ll radio back and send a band of cattle to intercept. Then they’ll strip you to the bone for anything they can sell back for drugs.”