by Nathan Pedde
“Shut it,” Veer said. “We do this my way.”
“Whatever,” Diplin said. “Until the boss tells me to take over from the lack of results.”
“Where’s Des?” Veer said.
“Des who,” Des said.
A fist came and slammed into Des’s jaw.
“Des O’Neal,” Diplin yelled. “I know you know him. I know you two are friends. Where is he?”
“Don’t start with the head,” Des said with blood dripping down his chin. “All it does is make the victim fuzzy and disorientated. Doesn’t do anything to get information from him. You would know this if you paid any attention in class.”
Another fist hit Des in the gut. He bowled over gasping for breath.
“See,” Des said. “I felt nothing.”
“You idiot.” Veer said. “You aren’t supposed to hit him.”
“Whatever,” Diplin said. “The boss will forgive me.”
“Silver spoon,” Veer muttered.
Those two words echoed in Des’s head. He had heard them before, but where. He knew it was a clue on who Veer really was. If he could place it, he could figure out his identity.
“You kidnap me, hit me, for what?” Des asked. “To figure out if I know one stupid boy? What do you really want?”
Then a buzzing sound echoed from across the room.
“That’s the perimeter,” Veer said, “They got here fast.”
“They probably bugged him,” Diplin said. “Let’s bail. See you at the rendezvous point.”
A door slammed open, and Des heard footsteps echoed away.
Des grumbled to himself, he was only getting started. He wanted to see what information he could get from them.
A few moments later, Des heard two new sets of footsteps enter the room.
“Cryslis, Cooley,” Des said into his earpiece before the two got a chance to speak, “call me Ryder.”
He hoped the device still worked. He guessed the room was bugged and was hoping they would catch him or his rescuers slipping something important.
“There you are, Ryder,” Cryslis said. “And how did you know it was us?”
“Rosemary and axle grease.”
“What?” Cooley said.
“That’s what you two smell like. Rosemary and axle grease.” Des said.
The bag was still over his head.
“I could live with axle grease,” Cooley said.
“No,” Des smirked. “You’re rosemary. She’s axle grease.”
Cooley laughed, pulling the bag from his head.
“Damn,” Cryslis said. “You look bad.”
“They hit me once,” Des said. “I shouldn’t be that bad.”
“No,” Cryslis said. “The punch has screwed up your holo-disguise. You look broken.”
“Cameras.” Des panicked. “Can they tell…”
“Not a chance. You look like the elephant man,” Cooley replied.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Cryslis said.
Des laid in his bed. However, he was unsure how he got there. After Cryslis and Cooley got him away from Veer and Diplin, things got fuzzy. He passed out soon after they got to the hover-van.
In the darkness, his alarm clock rang out. Its noise split the air like a knife. Des got up from his bed and stared at the wall clock. He pushed a button on the clock. It was six in the morning. The clock said it was Saturday. Des stared at the clock for a couple seconds.
There was something he was supposed to do today. He was sure of it, but he couldn’t remember what it was. He looked down at himself. He was standing in his boxer shorts. He wondered how he got undressed.
“Des,” Susan called from outside of his bedroom. “You awake yet?”
Des snapped out of his stupor. Susan was outside of his room at this early in the morning.
“Yes, but I’m not dressed,” Des called back.
The door opened. Susan walked into the room.
“Get dressed,” Susan commanded.
“Susan,” Des said, attempting to hide his boxer shorts with the shirt.
“Smiley faces?” Susan said. “Really?”
“Susan,” Des said.
“Fine,” Susan said, turning around, stopping as she has almost fully turned. “What in Jupiter did you do to yourself?”
Susan rushed over to him, grabbing his chin and turned his head.
“What do you mean what did I do?” Des replied.
“You’ve a bruise the size of a fist on your cheek. What did you do? Tell me now, or I swear I will call your uncle this minute.”
“I fell getting off my work scooter,” Des lied.
Susan gave him an unbelieving look. He couldn’t tell her the truth, that he was a spy and another spy drugged him, captured him, and punched him in the face before help arrived.
“Did you notify your boss?” Susan asked.
“No, because it was my own stupidity I fell.”
“Oh?” Susan said.
“I didn’t turn it off, and it moved forward when I tried to get off it,” Des said. “I’d be the laughing stock of the company.”
Susan shook her head.
“I was going to take you out shopping this morning. Allow you to choose some of the groceries for a change.”
“Oh no,” Des said. “With my face this hurt, I guess I’ll have to stay home, and you’ll have to take Sheemo shopping, like usual.”
Susan smiled.
“I’m not going grocery shopping by myself. Sheemo has some project about communication signals and can’t come. So you are.”
Susan looked down at Des’s boxers. Des blushed out of self-consciousness.
“Get dressed. Breakfast will be ready in ten minutes, and then we’re going out.” Susan left the room with a twirl.
Des got dressed in street clothes and left his bedroom. Standing in the darkened hallway, Des stopped in front of Sheemo’s bedroom door.
The door was ajar. Light from the hallway illuminated the room. The room was in its usual state of disarray. But on the far wall of the room was a peg board filled with pieces of string and pictures.
Des entered the bedroom. He walked over to the pegboard. In big bold letters was the name ‘Detecting different communication signals on the station and understanding them.’ Des saw a picture of Cryslis’s safehouse and of Courier One. There was a few other houses and a picture of the Undercroft.
“Des,” Susan’s voice echoed from the kitchen. “Breakfast is ready.”
Des left the room, making sure to close the door behind him.
A few moments later, Des found himself in the kitchen. A plate of dark brown hash was waiting for him at the table. It was a concoction of potatoes, honey, and milk. This version of it had blackened edges where it had been burnt while being cooked.
“Where’s Sheemo?” Des asked.
“He isn’t coming.”
“I know,” Des said. “I’ve resigned myself to my fate. I’m just wondering where he is?”
“He’s at the school, working on his project,” Susan replied. “He sent me a message at two this morning letting me know he had to do something at the school. He was very vague and didn’t respond to my reply when I asked him what could be so important to have to go to the school at two in the morning.”
Des picked at his mash. It tasted like burnt and moldy dirt.
“When did you need me to be your sampling slave?” Des asked.
“That’s next weekend,” Susan said.
“Right,” Des said.
After he finished half of his breakfast, he pushed his food away. “Let’s go. I do have to study today.”
Chapter Twelve
Des and Susan piled into Susan’s hover-car and drove the short distance to the shopping center. This early in the morning, the streets were empty of people and cars.
They pulled into a parking lot. Des groaned when he saw where they had gone. Des walked through the shopping center, following Susan. He pushed the shopping cart down the aisles, but h
e was bored stiff. Susan said they were going for groceries, but they ended up shopping for other things. The store they went to was one of those behemoths with half the store filled with groceries, and the other have with clothes, electronics, and other random things.
“Why did we have to come to Jovamart?” Des asked.
“Ioger is closed for another hour and it’s always packed with people.” Susan replied. “This store is open earlier and usually doesn’t pick up until the afternoon. Plus, the clothes here are cheap.”
“Great,” Des grumbled under his breath. “Do you normally go shopping like this with Sheemo?”
“Yes. He doesn’t mind when I go clothes shopping.”
“Wonderful.”
“Can you imagine once the war ends and shopping goes back to normal?” Susan asked.
Des looked around at the shopping center. The shelves looked a little bare of the popular items. The blockades and fighting kept goods from reaching the station at times.
“What’s normal?” Des asked.
“I’m not talking philosophy with you today,” Susan said.
A while later, Susan filled the shopping cart half-full of foods which Des didn’t like eating and clothes he had no interest in wearing. Des walked down the isles of the shopping center behind Susan while she grabbed a can of food from the shelves.
“Do you have to look so thrilled?” Susan asked.
“Yes,” Des said, “yes I do.”
“Well, we’re done.”
Des followed Susan through the checkout and then outside toward the car.
“Did you spend the entire food budget?” Des asked.
“About half.”
Des helped Susan load the groceries into the car. His phone rang. Des pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the display. The display said it was Elsie. Fear welled up in his stomach like a lead balloon. His phone rang again.
“Are you going to answer it?” Susan asked.
Des answered his phone. “Hello.”
“Hi, Des,” Elsie said. “Are you busy?”
“I’m grocery shopping with Susan.”
“This early?”
“Yes,” Des said. “I think the Earthling saying is early bird gets the worm.”
“Can you come over and help me with my homework?” Elsie asked.
“I’m grocery shopping with Susan,” Des repeated.
“Come over afterward,” Elsie said. “Silly boy.”
“That’s fine,” Des said. “I’ll be over in about an hour or so.”
Des hung up his phone.
“On hour?” Susan said. “We’ll be back in 5 minutes. You can go over afterward.”
“I have my reasons,” Des replied.
“Fine. Whatever.”
Des helped Susan load the groceries into her car. Just as he put the last bag into it, his phone rang again. Des picked the phone out of his pocket. The call display was blank.
“Hi, Des. This is Cooley,” Cooley said. The phone crackled.
“What’s up?” Des said.
“I can’t get in contact with Cryslis,” Cooley said. “She went to work to keep up appearances, and now I can’t get in contact with her.”
“Hold on,” Des said, then he thought about Cryslis. “You there?”
Cryslis didn’t answer.
“Me neither,” Des said.
“Listen,” Cooley said. “I’m getting interference all over the place. Something is going down. Be ready to move. The white scooter is parked in the paid parking spot. Get there and grab it. I’ll monitor things from here.”
“Okay,” Des said.
Des turned to Susan. He was going to tell her something had come up and he had to go to work, but then alarms rang throughout the station. A voice echoed amongst the buildings.
“Level four alert,” the emergency voice said. “All civilians please evacuate to the nearest shelter. All Emergency Personnel, please report to your duty stations.”
“Hang up and get moving,” Cooley said.
Des hung up the phone. Susan looked at Des with a worried look plastered on her face.
“We have got to get to the shelter,” Susan said. “It isn’t far.”
“No,” Des said. “I need to go to work.”
Susan looked confused. “What? Your delivery job isn’t worth-”
“I don’t have time to explain,” Des said. “Drive me to the 8th Ave Parking garage and then you can go to the shelter.”
“What are you talking about?” Susan asked.
“Shut up,” Des said. “Either drive me where I need to go, or I’ll have to start running.”
“Fine,” Susan said. “Get in, but I will be calling your uncle about this.”
Des and Susan got into the car. It sped off before the door shut or Des fastened his seat belt.
Des drove the white scooter down the road. The speed limiter warned a red flashing light on the display. He wanted to ignore and bypass it, but the hover-scooter’s controls wouldn’t allow him to mess with it. Des raced around a corner, his knee scrapping along the asphalt.
He wore his Ryder disguise. Cooley had his disguise projector in the storage compartment. However, he hadn’t bothered to change his clothes. His street clothes were as good as any.
“Cryslis, are you there?” Des asked for the hundredth time.
“Yes, yes,” Cryslis said. “Stop shouting.”
“Where were you?” Des asked.
“I was checking out our bosses. I was in deep and couldn’t risk talking.”
“Did you find anything?” Des asked.
“No,” Cryslis replied. “No obvious connections to anyone outside of the station.”
“So, the spy isn’t them?”
“No idea. Where are you?”
Des told her.
“Do you know where Elsie is?” Cryslis asked.
“At her house doing homework.”
“Maybe. Find out so we can arrest her.”
“I don’t think she’s the spy.”
“She’s a spy. You proved it.”
“We don’t have anything that proves she’s conspiring to destroy the station.”
“We can’t do nothing,” Cryslis said.
One. The station is under attack by missiles, Des thought. Two. Elsie is at her house. I know she’s a spy of some kind. Maybe the enemy, but maybe not. Three. The real spy is in the Undercroft and is setting up a shield blocker to allow missiles to destroy the station. Four. The Undercroft covered four hundred square kilometers, and many areas are up to six levels deep. If the missiles were to get through, a whole lot of people will hurt.
“Level four alert,” the emergency voice repeated. “All civilians please evacuate to the nearest shelter. All Emergency Personnel, please report to your duty stations.”
“I’ve an idea,” Des said. “I need you to alter my phone so it’s Ryder’s phone.”
“What happened to Ryder’s phone?”
“It’s still at the safehouse.”
“Give me a minute. Cooley can hack your phone,” Cryslis said.
Des turned the corner and headed in a different direction. The shape of the Military Academy loomed out in the distance.
“It’s fixed.”
Des pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“Is this Sheemo O’Neal?” Des said with the voice of Ryder.
Des rode his scooter with one hand.
“Yes, who’s this?” Sheemo replied.
“Ryder Fly of Station Intelligence. Where are you?”
“I’m in the shelter at the Military Academy.”
“Get out of the shelter and back to your school project. I need your help,” Des said.
“What?”
“I’ll be there in five minutes,” Des said. “Either you get there to help, or I will try to use your device without you and who knows what happens to it.”
Des hung up the phone.
“I need you to get Captain Kusheeno on the phone to convince my brother
to help us,” Des said to Cryslis, “and to back up my lie.”
“What’s the plan?”
Des told her about Sheemo’s device had picked out the signals from the safehouse and Courier One.
“Okay,” Cryslis replied with a hint of trepidation. “Let me know when you need him to call.”
Des walked into the small classroom in the middle of the Military Academy, filled with a larger version of the diagram Sheemo had in his bedroom. Among an extensive list of times and places, included on it were the times and locations of when Des would have conversations with Cryslis. Even Des’s house was listed. A small note beside it said, ‘broken.'
Standing in front of the device was Sheemo and two of his friends.
“What’s the meaning-” Sheemo raised his voice.
“Shut up,” Des said, placing a finger to his ear. “Have him call.”
Des’s phone rang, the number unknown. Des handed the phone to Sheemo who answered it.
“Hello, Sheemo—” Sheemo answered before standing straighter, “Captain— An Agent— Yes, sir— Yes, sir— I will, sir—”
Sheemo hung up the phone.
“Okay punk.” Sheemo said handing back the phone. “You happen to be a secret agent. What the fuck do you need?”
Des walked over to the board. “How long have you been looking up the different signals?”
“A couple months? Why?” Sheemo said.
“Seven different attacks in that time,” Cryslis added.
“Can you tell who sent and received those signals?” Des asked.
“No. We can only tell if it was an authorized phone. But authorized phones are sanctioned by the government and the conversation and data are reviewed by government people. If traitorous activity were to happen to someone that stupid, they would be caught.”
“These people are using illegal, untraced signals?”
“Maybe not illegal, just untraced. Judging from some of the spots being sent, there are some signals from government agents in this mess.”
“We have seven different attacks in the same time,” Des said. “I need to see the communications from before the attacks and just after.”
Sheemo sat down at a computer. “The device records, dates, times, and places sent from and received from. However, I think it’s broken.”