by J. M. Hagan
Something else appeared behind him. He glanced back in terror. Heard something being released from another serpent-like metal tube. It was a long needle.
Vorjool cried out. It pierced the back of his neck swiftly and he seized up all over. Got numb and sick to his stomach. Bit down hard and growled agony.
5
He saw an endless black void. A man made from electrical current. He rose up before him. Held hands out at his sides and the darkness was torn with lightning.
Memories came. He dreamt of his time with Gwen. Her face flashed by from a dozen happy moments. It was followed by flashes of his past in Mortron City. One night, specifically.
As Aria’s up-and-coming enforcer, Vorjool had been making a name for himself in the alleys, brothels, building sites and bars where he collected for her. He was credited with breaking a lot of bones, and busting a lot of people’s heads. But he’d never been all that bad. Usually, all it took was for them to feel his strength. He was stronger and quicker than any man he’d ever met. His method was simple. He snuck up on them. Grabbed them from behind and applied a tremendous amount of pressure to their wrist and shoulder. While they screamed, he demanded what he was owed. They always tapped.
Mkhi, his childhood friend, came to him after he’d been in Aria’s employ for about six months. Vorjool hadn’t seen him for a while. Mkhi had been living over in Virtra City. His Dad left him a pretty big inheritance. It was meant for him to start up his own business.
He spent it on rent for a high end apartment. Drugs. Hookers. Gambling.
Vorjool hadn’t heard about it, though. The night when he vouched for him to enter an underground card game he was working security for, Vorjool, had been duped into believing Mkhi had opened a car workshop in Virtra that was making him a lot of money.
Mkhi covered the pot – ten grand – with the last of his money.
He got beat fast. Then he asked for a buy-in. Vorjool had vouched for him when he said he was good for the cash. Of course, when he lost again, he told them he’d have the money by the end of the week.
Mkhi tried to run. But Vorjool caught up to him after learning the truth of how he’d been living his life. He owed money all over Virtra.
Vorjool had been waiting for him outside his apartment. Mkhi got out from a cab and went inside in a hurry. He left via the rear exit after getting together his belongings. His old friend anticipated his move, though. He was in the back alley waiting for him when he came out.
“You owe, Aria, a lot of money,” he said, drawing his weapon.
Mkhi stood back, hands raising. “Hey, Vorjool, please. Wait. Don’t do this.”
“You screwed her over, Mkhi. Nobody gets away with it in her town. Aria, she’s forcing me to do this because I vouched for you. This is my punishment.”
Mkhi’s eyes flashed. He squared his shoulders. “I could run away. Look, I’ve already got a way off this planet. She’ll never find out.” He put a hand on his heart. “I swear. I know I screwed up. But I’m putting all this behind me. I’m moving away from the Delta sector for good.”
Vorjool lowered the gun. “God dammit. You’re an asshole, Mkhi. You get caught and she’ll put me down. I won’t even see them coming until it’s too late. You know how this business works? They don’t take it personal. And they’re ugly. They shoot you in the back.”
“Come with me,” he pleaded. “We’ll set up somewhere. Becomes neighbours. We both know this life isn’t for you either.”
“I had been doing just fine until you lost control,” he barked. “I never should’ve vouched for you. I’ll never vouch for you again. I don’t wanna see you. I don’t wanna hear from you. You get out. In time, I’ll figure a way out for myself.”
Mkhi waited a moment. Once Vorjool holstered his gun, he started backing away. “I understand. I won’t bother you again. But I won’t forget what you’ve done for me. If you change your mind, look for me in the colonies bordering Fringe-Space.”
Then he turned into the street and advanced at pace. Vorjool dropped his head and sighed. Don’t make me regret this.
*
He awoke on the floor, his cheek stuck to cold metal, with no idea how long he had been there. Vorjool sat up with a groan and touched the base of his stiff neck feeling a deep mound of swelling and a little hole.
The screens from before were now rolling with data. Sounds of computations and blips droned beneath the ringing in his ears, as his head ached something fierce.
“Where…where are you?” he groaned, disorientated, with no idea who, or what, he was addressing.
“I am right here,” replied a voice, with an electronic hiss beneath each word. Vorjool couldn’t pinpoint his position in the dark. He seemed to be all around him.
“Where?” he barked.
“In your mind.”
“My…mind?” Vorjool sealed a hand over the hole in his neck with urgency. “Who are you? What have you done to me?!”
The shock got him to his feet, he twisted his stiff neck. “Why are you in my head?” he demanded fiercely.
Vorjool looked across to the skeleton wearing what appeared to be a very square grey uniform. His fury over having the thing implanted against his will was wavering beneath the weight of his curiosity.
“That’s a General?”
He felt threatened. Violated even. Vorjool’s bottom lip quivered the instant he realised that this Zero might have learnt his deepest, darkest thoughts.
“You are reading my mind?”
“A mission? What mission? I didn’t ask for this!” he cried.
He bit down when the A.I. said it. He’d been so cold and quick in panning off any argument he might have offered that it had his gut blazing. A younger version of himself would’ve snapped. But Vorjool took a breath and shut his eyes, thinking of his wife who lay dead but a few feet away.
When they opened, he was more focussed, but with a chilling glare aimed at no one. “This is happening so fast. I am not ready to deal with it yet,” he told him in a plain, strong tone. “I am going to take my wife to the surface…and bury her.”
Vorjool found Gwen in the dark. He crouched over her, tears in his eyes, and squeezed his fists. I don’t have time for this, he thought. I have to get out of here and find Kal.
Vorjool’s weeping eyes rose. “You would help me?”
He recalled the visions of a bloody past, the power of the stone the Starman had killed Gwen for. He understood it was a unique item in the galaxies.
“What is this mission you speak of?” he asked.
“I can’t do that,” cried Vorjool, scarcely able to believe what he was hearing. “I have no idea why you’re talking about this with me.”
“Paci
fy? It sounds like you want to start a damn war!”
“But how?” Vorjool inquired. “I am one man. A nobody.”
“Well, where are they then?” he begged, slapping hands at his sides. “You said something about re-establishing contact? Does that mean…I’m not the only one left?”
He repeated the number shaking his head. “How far away are they?”
The Giant Gateway was considered a protected site. It was a symbol of the Rovians overthrowing their oppressors and beating them back. He never knew those old tales of ancient oppressors concerned the Rokari.
Zero opened the door to the vault with the computer. Vorjool knew he had done it, even without explanation. “Are you still connected to the computer?” he asked.
He carried Gwen in his arms. By then, she was cold.
He admired her face all the way to the surface, and absorbed every detail. Vorjool dug a shallow grave with his bare hands and then laid her to rest. He sat on the ground next to her grave, his mind racing with thoughts.
He was all alone again. His bones grew colder with each passing second he felt it. All he could do was carry on.
Somehow, even though it had all come about so fast it’d been the wildest shock of his life, he felt like everything that had ever happened to him had been leading to this moment.
“Zero, why am I the only one? Where did they go?”
A short moment of silence followed.
Vorjool’s dark lips peeled back.
“They killed them? But why?”
He looked to her grave. Not all of them.
He had replied to his inner thoughts again and Vorjool lifted his head sharply at first, still finding it difficult adjusting to his situation. He wondered if he was ever going to get used to this. Zero was going to be there all day, every day, hearing his thoughts. He felt justified in the forming feeling of claustrophobia that was gathering in his chest.
“I don’t want you reading my thoughts,” he moaned, putting a hand on his anguished face.
Vorjool clenched his fist and bit down in anger again. “Why would anyone ask for this? My thoughts have been the only sacred thing I’ve ever had. Now that it’s gone…how am I ever going to find peace?”
But the A.I. didn’t offer an immediate response. Vorjool waited a moment and was unsettled by his sudden quiet.
“Tell me, how did you serve this General Cobb?”
“You’re serious? How many ships did he have?”
Vorjool swallowed. “There are fifty dreadnoughts waiting for me somewhere out there?” he begged, trembling at the prospect of all that power.
“What attack?”
“How come the ships are still waiting there?” he asked. “This all happened so long ago, didn’t someone come along and retrieve them?”
“He sacrificed himself?” he asked, and grew fearful as it became clear to him.
“So, you’re saying…if you are removed from the brain of your host, the host dies?”
A short pause.
Vorjool dropped his shaking head.
Starmen
Zero Hour
Part 2
Voyage End
6
Location: Europa, Delta Sector
“Eight,” Jack counted off the rep, standing over the bench press while Anderson growled effort. He brought the bar loaded with heavy plates back down to his chest, then beamed red as he pushed it back up again. “Nine. One more, man,” he urged him. “Push it. That’s it. Keep going. Yes!”
Anderson dropped the bar onto the hooks and sat up from the bench, his breathing laboured, sweat rolling off his brow.
“That was…tough,” he sighed.
“Sure looked it.” Jack slapped his back. “Up. It’s my turn.”
“Be my guest,” said Anderson, going around to spot him this time.
They were moving much heavier weights than they had been even a month ago. Both men had grown to have strong builds within the six months they’d spent on-board Europa. Their outward appearance had changed so much that people back home would have a hard time even recognising them at a glance.
Anderson’s hair had been growing out for months and was longer than it had ever been before. He was wearing the new glasses he’d bought back on Maji-Onda that had thick black frames. Cane hadn’t accepted money from Media-1 for bringing forth the footage of their battle with the Dok’ra on principal. Not that his crew appreciated it much.
However, they had sold the industrial fabrication units from Europa’s cargo hold, which Venec never got around to delivering, and then they all had enough credits to build up their wardrobes and stock up on supplies.
When Jack began moving weight, Anderson said: “Jack, I’ve been thinking…the overseers are gone. We’ve no reason to believe that we didn’t get them all.”
“Uh huh?” Jack urged him, between his fifth and sixth rep.
“Well, if you think about it, we’ve probably already saved Earth. Without the overseers on his side, Vorjool, won’t even know where Earth is.”
Jack set the bar back having made it to ten. Unlike Anderson, he
’d given that some consideration a while back. “Doesn’t change anything, though.”
“What? Of course it does. It changes everything,” Anderson cried.
“Man, we’re Starmen. We’ve got a contract to finish. We’re gonna finish it. People are depending on us. Doesn’t matter if they aren’t from Earth. Besides, if we high-tail it back home, my gut tells me that all we’ll be doing is postponing the inevitable. Earth is gonna be discovered someday. Galaxies are overflowing with people. Bound to be someone who stumbles upon it eventually.”
“Yeah,” said Anderson. “But who’s to say the Federation will be any better for us than, Vorjool? Jeriko told me they’ll exploit our people.”
That’s something else I’ve thought a lot about.
Jack didn’t say much on the subject, though, and they were soon done with their daily workout.
They passed Siena’s room on their way back from the gym and found the door was open. Cane had just walked inside ahead of them.
“What’s up?” Jack greeted them from the corridor.
Cane turned. “Commander, Siena, and I are about to have a duel.”
“With guns? Awesome! But in the HC, of course?”
Siena laughed. “No, Jack, not with guns. I’ve discovered a new hacking program. It’s designed to pit hackers against each other.”
Siena was incredible with tech. She could fix any software problems, and cause a lot of her own if she felt the need. The hacking programs she was assessing herself with at her terminal each week were incredibly diverse and, frankly, mind boggling to him.
It all gave Jack a headache when she explained this new program to him, after he’d been stupid enough to ask about it.
Siena, rather excitedly, made him come over and see for himself. The screens were full of code, he knew that much, but that was the sum of his understanding. She went on to talk for a long time about the complexities of whatever it was she was talking about. Jack just drifted and nodded his head now and then, keeping his gaze fixed on the screen like some of it was penetrating the surface.
When she was finished, he merely asked: “So, it’s good then?”