by Jason Hutt
Two thousand people had died as a result of the Conglomerate experiment authorized and directly supervised by his father. His father didn’t care. The last thing he read was a note from Conglomerate Headquarters explaining the potential windfall they would receive from Republic defense contracts as a result of this new serum. This was something worth a potential fortune both as a military asset and as a service to sell to local militia spread across the galaxy. The Conglomerate would make quadrillions if it was a success. His father needed it to get to market right away; everyday that the serum spent in research and development was another day it wasn’t earning a profit.
Profit.
It was all his father cared about. Nick sat on the bunk in his rundown Drifter hotel room and stared at the image of his father on the screen. Henry Papagous looked into the camera with a sympathetic smile.
“I hate you.”
***
Max awoke that morning with a bit of a spring in his step. It was launch day and he’d be on the move again. On launch day, the food tasted better, the air was cleaner, and the Hannah sang to him. Max always found he got a little grumpy when he was grounded for too long; just the thought of being at the controls of his ship made him smile.
He briefly used the sonic shower to scrape off a layer of grime, made a quick decision that there was no need to trim his beard any further, and had a quick cup of grit-filled, but pleasingly strong coffee. Max threw on his flight coveralls and utility boots and headed downstairs.
He was pleased to see Nick already down there, looking none the worse for wear. The kid seemed to be getting a wakeup call everyday he was here, but as of yet, he seemed to be taking it all okay. Nick was sitting in his seat, facing the news broadcast, and working through two orders of omelets when Max sat across from him.
“Nick, I thought for sure your ass would be dragging this morning. How’s the chest?”
Nick gave him a half-hearted smile. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this much pain in my entire life.”
Max laughed again. “Well, you’ve got more bravado than brains. Picked a helluva person to fight. I think even Charlie would rather ram his head into a bulkhead than have to go toe-to-toe with that guy.”
This time Nick’s smile was a bit more genuine. “Lesson learned on that one, Max. Who was that guy?”
“Francis Sinclair,” Max answered, “Esteemed son of the renowned Doctor Aldous Sinclair, who is of course our primary employer.”
Max started laughing as Nick’s shoulders sagged. Max could see genuine concern cross Nick’s face.
“Don’t worry about it too much, kid. Just apologize and move on. We all do stupid things from time to time,” Max said.
Nick nodded, wiping at the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Max briefly checked out the news broadcast behind him where a rebroadcast of the pirate attack on the Canis One supply ships was airing.
“Wish you would’ve stopped me last night,” Nick said quietly.
“I tried,” Max responded, “You had a gallon of liquid courage in you though. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so eager to get into it.”
“I thought he was another one of your buddies come to give me a hard time,” Nick said, “Thought I could throw it back at him.”
“So much for that,” Max said as his food was delivered. He greedily dug in. He shook his head with a slight smile while he chewed his food; the kid sure had some brass ones to mouth off to Francis like that.
“I’m just glad Francis didn’t decide to make you a smear on the floor. Big guy must be getting soft in his old age,” Max said, “I was on the wrong end of a fight with him once. Getting hit by him was like being hit with a brick, though a brick had a little more give. My jaw hurt for a full week after that.”
“What was the fight about?”
“Something stupid,” Max said.
Nick stared at him, but Max looked down at his plate, shoveling food into his mouth.
“What’s going on with Francis’ head?” Nick asked.
Max shrugged. “Don’t know the whole story. Happened before I ever met him. Rumor is that Francis was injured in some kind of experiment back when his father worked for the Conglomerate. Something happened though and they weren’t able to regenerate the parts of his brain that were damaged, so Doc Sinclair took it upon himself to fix him up with some cybernetic enhancements.”
“I noticed the eye,” Nick said, taking the final bite from his plate.
“Yeah,” Max said, “Just be sure not to comment on his looks again. He gets a little sensitive about that.”
“I gathered,” Nick said dryly.
“Anyway, you’ll get a chance to see him again here in just a couple of hours.”
“What do you mean?” Nick asked with a mouthful of food.
“I guess you don’t remember,” Max said, “We’ve got clearance from the governor to deliver our load and get going. We’re shipping out today.”
Nick put his fork down and paled slightly. Then he abruptly stood up.
“I’ll meet you at the ship. Going to stop by the chapel again.”
“All right, don’t be late. You might want to say an extra Hail Mary or two after last night.”
“Very funny,” Nick said and briskly walked away. As he left the room, the kid’s eyes kept darting back to the monitors. When he was gone, Max turned to see the soft smile of a Conglomerate head honcho, speaking earnestly to some gathered reporters. Max shrugged and turned back around.
***
An hour later, after finishing his breakfast and packing up the few things he had with him at the Drifter, Max stepped back aboard the Hannah and breathed deep. The ship was more of a home to him than anyplace on Dust. Through ten years of work out here, Max had spent more time in the ship than on the planet’s surface. While he appreciated the amenities of the Drifter and the company of his friends, it was always a pleasure to return to what he considered home.
He was more than ready to be on his way again, to take another small chunk out of the debts he owed. Max eagerly dropped his bag in his quarters and found Reggie in the cockpit, working through some control system diagnostics.
“How’s everything going, Reggie?”
“All systems are nominal,” Reggie reported.
“Good,” Max said as the robot disconnected itself from his command console, “What’s left?”
“Hatch seal inspections and a power core check.”
“I’ll take care of the inspection; you do the core check. Nick should be here within the hour and I want us ready to lift off. Can’t keep the good Doctor waiting,” Max said. Reggie nodded his cylindrical, gray head and plodded off down the corridor with a whir and a clank. Max headed for the boarding ramp and got to work.
Ten minutes later, Max was standing next to the closed boarding ramp, waiting for the pressure check to finish, when Nick arrived on the landing platform. An indicator light next to the ramp flashed green and Max received confirmation on his wrist computer that the leak check was successful. The ramp slowly descended. Max gestured for Nick to go on in.
Nick stood there.
“Go on aboard, kid. We need to get moving,” Max said.
“I’m not going.”
“What? What the hell are you talking about?”
Max slowly turned to face Nick; Nick was not carrying his bag.
“I’m not going, Max. I can’t go back to Nexus.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
Nick stood stock still as he spoke. His hands were balled into fists at his side.
“I quit, Max. You can go on without me.”
“Bullshit,” Max said. His face became flush and as he spoke spittle flew from his lip. “You still owe me for the goddamn augers you broke. You also owe me for the trip out here. You haven’t done a goddamn thing to earn what I’ve given you.”
“I’ll find a job here,” Nick said, “I’ll pay you back. But, I’m not going.”
“You spoiled son of a bitch. You thi
nk you can just do whatever you damn well please out here?” Max yelled, “You signed a contract with me. You can’t just walk out on that. You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass the entire time you’ve been here. Have you been trying to get yourself fired?”
Nick looked away, refusing to meet Max’s glare.
“You have, haven’t you?”
“I…”
“Son of a bitch.”
“I just can’t go back, Max. I’m sorry.”
“Why? Why the hell not?”
Nick hesitated. Max folded his arms across his chest and waited.
“I stole something from my father; he’ll be looking for me. I just can’t go back.”
Max shook his head and smiled menacingly.
“You’re a piece of work, you know that. You’re a goddamn, hypocritical jackass. You drive off my friend because you judged what she did as wrong, yet here you are stealing things from your father and then you’re afraid to face him! Then trying to intentionally screw up so you can get fired! You know what? Screw you. You need to face up to what you’ve done. Get on this ship and I’m taking you back to Nexus. Hell, I’ll drag you right to your father and you can learn what it’s like to be a man and be responsible for your actions.”
Nick jutted out his chin.
“I’m not going.”
“Now you listen to me, you little punk,” Max said as he jabbed a finger in Nick’s direction, “You either get on this ship or I will have you deported. If you didn’t get the message through your thick skull, you’re not wanted around here. After your little jaunt the other day and your run in with Lonnie, Windy City security would happily kick you off this planet for good. And guess what? They’ll put you on the first ship out of town, which just happens to be mine.”
“You can’t do that,” Nick said.
“Oh, I can, Nick,” Max said, “I can make it really miserable for you. You don’t have a choice here. Get on the damn ship.”
“Please, Max.”
“Get on-board willingly or I drag you along kicking and screaming. What’s it going to be?”
Nick just stood there for a moment, mouth open, looking down at the landing pad deck.
“Max, this isn’t just some little fight with my father-”
“I don’t give a shit about your family squabbles, Nick. You signed a contract with me. Remember? Then you tried to sabotage my operation. Took money from my pocket. What’s it going to be?”
Nick didn’t move. Max shook his head in disgust.
“Deportation it is then,” Max said, calling up the security comm. channel on his wrist computer.
“No,” Nick said, “I’ll go. I’ll go.”
“Well, I guess you’re not as stupid as I thought,” Max said, “Let’s take a walk and go get your bag, Nick. Wouldn’t want you to leave anything behind.”
***
An hour later, Max settled into the pilot’s seat while Nick took the seat to his right. They hadn’t spoken more than a couple of words to each other over the last hour. Max had remained within two feet of Nick all that time. Nick couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with Max. He played around on his console, calling up anything that looked the least bit interesting, while Max went through his pre-flight checklist in silence.
“Good, let’s get going,” Max said. Max started the launch sequence and within moments, the large freighter rumbled off the landing pad and headed north. Mile after mile of desert sand passed beneath them. Within moments, a rust red mountain range rose from the desert floor. The mountains were jagged, steeply ascending and descending in a rapid succession of peaks. Nick stared at them for a moment, lost in their rugged beauty.
“So, uh, where are we headed?” Nick asked.
Max let out a long, slow breath through pursed lips before responding.
“Nick, you are about to meet the only local celebrity we have out here,” Max said as he reviewed the telemetry on his console, “Doctor Aldous Sinclair is almost solely responsible for the success of this colony. He came here just after the Republic and the Conglomerate packed their bags and jumped out of the star system.”
Nick nodded as he gazed at the horizon. It was a relief just to have Max talking to him again.
“The story is that Sinclair came here with his power core at full charge, if you know what I mean. He had a real chip on his shoulder, wanted to show the Republic how foolish they were. Much of what you saw back there in Windy City was his design. He engineered the light vines, developed the crops that would thrive at Bloom, designed the machines that dug out the residential district. He’s looked at as a bit of a god among men.”
Max looked at Nick, whose eyes were focused on a spot in the distance. Nick was trying to piece together what he would do from here. He wasn’t ready to face his father and somehow he needed to convince Max of that. He doesn’t understand what he’s asking me to do, Nick thought.
Max broke up the lingering silence.
“Doc Sinclair has become a bit eccentric over the years. Just wanted to give you fair warning.”
Nick looked at him expectantly.
“My advice is to stay quiet, stick with me, and keep your head down. I’ll deal with Francis and his old man. You just listen, stay close, and don’t do anything stupid. His place is something else…well you’ll see for yourself in just a minute.”
Nick nodded.
“There it is,” Max said, pointing out the cockpit window towards a large mountain that loomed on the horizon.
Nick leaned forward in his seat. There wasn’t much to see at first, other than a large black dot that seemed to be embedded in the side of the enormous mountain peak. Details quickly came into focus. An expansive plateau at the base of the mountain had been converted into a spaceport landing pad. Nick counted a half dozen ships parked there, several of which he recognized from the Windy City platform. Lightning towers dotted the perimeter of the landing pad making the whole site seem like the gaping maw of some beast emerging from the mountain.
Enormous hangar doors were built into the side of the mountain. Large towers flanked both sides of the doors. Two additional towers were placed on adjacent peaks on the opposite side of the landing field.
“You must be able to see for miles from those towers,” Nick said.
“Wouldn’t know,” Max said, “Sinclair doesn’t exactly invite people in for tours.”
“Place is enormous,” Nick said, “Looks like a fortress.”
“You’ve got that right,” Max said, “My guess is the structure extends several thousand square meters into the base of that peak. That’s Mount Aldous, by the way, it’s the tallest mountain on Dust.”
“Mount Aldous?”
“Named after Doctor Aldous Sinclair.”
“Just a little eccentric then,” Nick said.
“Yep,” Max responded.
“He built all this himself?”
“He’s got a lot of resources at his disposal,” Max said.
A robotic voice broke over the communications system. “Hannah, this is Sinclair Sanctuary control, we have you on final approach. Please proceed to the landing beacon.”
“Copy control,” Max replied.
“No folksy charm out here,” Nick remarked.
Max shook his head and said, “Doc prefers the company of robotic workers. He’s got a virtual army of them. As far as I know, he and Francis are the only two people out here.”
“I thought robots were too difficult to maintain on Dust,” Nick said.
“Doc Sinclair’s a smart man,” Max said with a shrug.
Nick shook his head in disbelief as they started to descend.
The moment the Hannah settled on its assigned spot on the spaceport pad a swarm of cargo hauling drones approached it. Before Nick and Max could make their way to the entry ramp, the cargo hold was open and the robots were quickly offloading the large, black rectangular crates that filled the hold. Nick caught a brief glimpse of the synchronized ballet as a container was la
tched onto, lifted onto a conveyor and hauled off towards the large hangar at the far end of the field. The robots worked quickly; Nick guessed they would be done in twenty minutes or less.
A cart pulled up just in front of the ramp. Nick tried and failed to keep his expression neutral as he saw Francis step out. Francis saw Nick immediately and the left side of his mouth curled up in a sneer. In daylight, Francis’ deformities looked even more grotesque. The uneven lumps on his head looked to be pulsating slightly and Francis’ skin seemed stretched, taught, and unnaturally pale. His mechanical eye fixed its calculating stare on Nick. Nick found it unnerving, but more than anything he felt pity for the large man.
An older man walked a step behind Francis. Despite Francis’ misshapen features, there was a hint of a resemblance between the two men. The color of the eyes, the focused stare, the cut of the nose, and the exactness of the mouth gave away their kinship.
Before anyone could say anything, Nick stepped forward within arm’s reach of Francis. Francis’ hand closed rapidly in a fist.
“L-Look, Francis, I just wanted to apologize about last night. I had too much to drink and I…”
Francis snarled, “Don’t talk to me. I have no business with you.”
Max put a hand on Nick’s elbow and stepped up next to him. “Doc, Francis, no need to rehash bygone events. What’ve you got for us?”
Aldous Sinclair didn’t say anything at first. He calmly but sternly looked from Francis to Nick. Aldous was a tall man, as tall as Francis though not nearly as thick with muscle. Where Francis was a fearsome behemoth, Aldous was stately and refined. His movements were precise; his words clipped slightly.
Nick felt the weight of the old man’s stare, suddenly he felt like he was waiting to see if he would make the cut for the varsity team again. Finally, Aldous offered a half smile.
“The indiscretions of youth.”
Max nodded and extended his hand in greeting.
“Good to see you again, Doc.”
“Likewise, Maxime,” Aldous said as the old man quickly consulted his wrist computer, “It looks like this shipment is in order.”