Psychogen (Galactic Syndicate Cycle Book 1)

by N. C. Madigan

  Liza was startled when she felt a presence near her, closer than she liked. She jumped, one hand resting on her hip, where she kept a makeshift knife. A man had approached her. He appeared to be a few years older than she and was perhaps someone from the spaceport. He wore black pants, a white button up shirt and a long, black coat that reached his knees. His light hair was cropped close to his head, and his face showed signs of light-colored facial hair. He was smiling at her. Liza backed away. The man grinned with one side of his mouth.

  “I’m not gonna hurt you,” he said, taking a few steps closer to her, his hands raised in front of him. “You don’t have to be afraid,” the man attempted to reassure her. Liza glowered at the man and continued to back away. He opened his mouth, as if to say something else, but another voice cut through the space.

  “Dom!” the voice called. The man turned, glancing over his shoulder. A brute of a man was a few yards away, his giant fists resting on his hips.

  “Coming,” the man named Dom said. He turned back towards Liza, flashed her another smile, then whirled around and disappeared into the shifting spaceport crowd.

  Liza hugged herself, releasing her hold on the sharp scrap of metal at her side. Her breath had quickened in fear, and now she felt her lungs burn as they tried to steady themselves, but each inhale was another sharp stab of cold air. Liza lifted up her hands and saw that they were completely white. She rubbed them together, but it did little to bring the feeling and warmth back into her extremities. She had to get out of the cold.

  Her bag was still where she left it. She hurried forward and grasped it and hauled it up into her arms. She wrapped her hands up in the burlap to try and protect them from the chill and made her way towards home.

  Vely stood at the small hot plate, where a kettle of water was attempting to boil. Melina sat at the table with several blankets wrapped around her. Liza dropped her bag to the ground and pushed the door closed, sealing out most of the cold from outside.

  “Mom, shouldn’t you be at work?” Liza asked, pulling her hands into her sleeves to try and warm them. Vely brought over another blanket from a pile and wrapped it around Liza’s shoulders.

  “They sent her home because she’s sick,” Vely said, returning to the hot plate. Liza frowned.

  “Sick?” she repeated. Liza looked to her mother, who was shivering beneath the piles of blankets. Faint splotches of blue showed on her pale face. Under Liza’s gaze, Melina coughed, a horrible, hacking cough. When the fit passed, her eyes slipped closed and she leaned forward over the table, swaying like she might pass out. Vely jumped to her side and shook her awake.

  “Do not fall asleep, Mother,” she commanded, lifting Melina’s chin up to meet her eyes. “You’ll die.” Melina mumbled something, and Vely gave her a pat on the shoulder. Liza crossed over the room and stood closer to Vely, who was touching the metal kettle with her bare hand, a frustrated look on her face. Liza pulled a screwdriver from her pocket and moved the kettle from the hotplate and began to remove the back panel. As she worked, she glanced at Vely.

  “What’s going on?” Liza asked. Vely shifted her gaze to her.

  “Isn’t it obvious? We’ve got hardly any money, no food, and we’re all going to freeze to death! Without Mom working, we won’t have any money!” Vely yelled and turned away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Liza gaped at her sister, for she was never one to completely lose control. Liza pushed together the two loose wires, which sparked a bit, and replaced the panel on the hotplate. She set the kettle back on the coils and stepped back to take a seat beside her mother.

  Melina glanced at Liza, her gaze hollow, and attempted to give her a reassuring smile. Liza bit her lower lip and leaned gently onto her mother’s shoulder, trying desperately to draw the comfort from Melina that she used to get when she was young. But now, all she could feel beneath the layers of clothes and blankets were her bones and the rattle of her body with every coughing fit.

  Several minutes of silence passed, until finally the kettle emitted a weak whistle. Vely poured the hot water into a mug, which was filled with synthetic tea leaves that she scrounged up from somewhere. Vely placed the mug in front of Melina, who grasped the mug between her hands, her fingertips slightly blue. She took a few tentative sips.

  Liza glanced up at Vely. She looked calmer now that her mother had the tea. “I should go get medicine for her,” Liza said. Vely raised an eyebrow.

  “Are you crazy? One bottle of cold medicine costs at least seven-thousand Simlars,” Vely said.

  “We’ll be out fifty thousand a month if we lose Mom,” Liza countered. Vely wanted to argue more, Liza could see it in her eyes, but she conceded.

  “Do you have enough Simlars on your card?” Vely asked, and Liza nodded. “Stay warm,” Vely added as Liza pulled her boots back onto her feet, and wrapped an extra blanket around herself, tying it in a knot to keep it from slipping.

  “I’ll be back soon,” Liza said, smiled at her sister and mother, and disappeared from the house.

  The sun shone far in the distance, but the regulated Moon day was coming to an end. Most of the streets and alleys were deserted. A few shops were still open, their windows covered in fog. With the cold, the citizens retreated earlier and earlier. Vely told Liza and Melina about something she learned in school, where on Earth some places used to have seasons, one called winter. This kind of cold, she’d said, was something many Earthlings dealt with annually. Liza couldn’t imagine having to be cold for months at a time, every single year. It sounded horrible.

  Liza shivered and tugged her blankets tighter around her body. Her boots echoed loudly around the street. Liza made a turn, and came upon a market street, one she rarely visited. On one side of the street, an old woman was leaning over into a window, looking at something. Liza passed by, walked further down, and stopped in front of a white building with a red roof. A red cross painted on the side.

  The window was pulled part of the way down, but when Liza looked under it, she could see someone moving around inside the shop. Liza pounded on the window with her fist, catching the shop owner’s attention. The woman ambled over, and Liza rose back up to a standing position. The window rolled up.

  “Can I help you?” the woman asked, rather sourly. Liza scowled at her.

  “I need a bottle of cough medicine,” Liza said. The woman swung around unsteadily on her feet and shuffled towards the back of the shop. She rummaged around for a few minutes while Liza stood at the window, bouncing up and down on her feet to try and keep herself warm. The old woman finally returned to the window, carrying a very small bottle.

  “This is the last one,” she said, setting it roughly on the counter.

  “That’s hardly enough!” Liza argued, looking at the small bottle. The woman shrugged.

  “Take it or leave it. It’s in high demand right now, and who knows when I’ll get more,” she returned. Liza moaned, rolling her head back in annoyance. She fished out her S-chip from beneath her layers of blankets and clothes and passed it over. The woman grunted and took the Simlars off the chip, then roughly shoved the bottle and the chip over to Liza and slammed the window shut. Liza stumbled backwards, clutching her items against her chest. One of her blankets caught under her foot. She lost her balance and fell to the ground. The bottle of medicine and the S-chip flew from her hands and landed on the street. A sharp pain flared in her knee.

  “Damn it,” Liza cursed as she untangled her feet from the blanket and pushed herself up. She glanced down and saw that she’d torn a hole in her pants and was bleeding.

  Behind her, she heard running footsteps on the street. She saw someone from the corner of her eye but paid no mind. Probably just someone running from the Enforcers. Liza rolled onto her hands and knees and started to rise when the running figure passed by her. It was a boy, but he looked healthy, not at all like a Moon child. He passed by her, smiling a wicked grin, then bent down and scooped up her S-chip.

  “HEY!” Liza screamed. She grabbe
d the blankets and medicine bottle and took off after the kid. The stupid boy was quick, and Liza quickly ran out of breath. But she pressed on. There was no way that kid was getting away with her money.

  He rounded a corner, and Liza followed. This street was busier, and she nearly lost him, until he slowed briefly in order to see if she was still following. Liza sped up and flew past people, bumping into shoulders as she ran. The boy weaved in and out of the crowd, dashing between legs. Liza growled.

  She burst from the crowd and saw the boy running towards the spaceport. “Damn it…” she moaned. She stopped for just a moment, flung off one of her blankets and sprinted. She knew the blanket would be snatched up in a second, but the small, humane part of her didn’t care. Someone else could be a little warmer.

  The boy skidded around a corner into the spaceport, and Liza dashed after him. Her legs and lungs burned, but at least, for the first time in a long time, she felt warm. There was even a tiny bead of sweat on her forehead. She could feel it hanging onto her skin.

  The boy headed towards a medium-sized ship, class C spaceship. It was painted dark green, and in white, it said Gypsy Star. Liza wanted to roll her eyes at the lame name, but the boy was already sprinting down the gangway. She pressed on and skidded around and up the gangway. When she burst onto the ship, she collided face to face with a thin, freaky looking man. He stared down at Liza, a strange expression on his face. He drew in a long inhale, and Liza saw his pupils shrink until they were pinpricks in his irises. Behind his legs, the little boy laughed.

  “A stowaway?” the thin man asked. Liza held up her hands and shook her head, trying to backstep at the same time. The man’s grin grew larger as he stared at her, assessing her.

  “No, I’m not!” she shouted, backing up, but she tripped over her blankets once again and landed with a hard thud on the gangway. The thin man leaned down and grasped Liza by the front of her coat, lifting her up off the ground.

  “I think, yes,” he said. He slung her over his shoulder and carried her down a hall. Liza beat against him, swinging her legs and arms wildly. “Calm down, little snake,” the man hissed, sending a crawling shiver up over Liza’s skin. The man descended a flight of stairs, down into a dark hallway. He stopped and pulled her off his shoulder and gave her a hard shove. “You can wait here until the captain returns,” he said with a wicked grin, then shut the door. She heard the locking mechanism click, shutting Liza in total darkness.

  4

  The only positive thing about being trapped in the tiny storage unit was the warmth. At least, Liza assumed it was a storage unit. Wandering in the darkness with her arms outstretched, she felt several metal bins with lids that snapped on and off. She dug around inside of the bins, but they were all empty.

  For the first time in a long time, Liza was too hot. She shed her layers of clothes and blankets, leaving them in a pile beside her. She rose to her feet and stomped around the room, banging on the walls and the door, trying to find a way out, but to no avail. She tried yelling and screaming, but it did no good. Her voice echoed in the room, but not beyond.

  As she shed her clothes, she found the medicine bottle that she’d bought. She held it now, tightly in her fist, and thought about her mother and Vely. Liza tightened her hold on the bottle and brought it to her chest. She tried not to cry, but her throat was tight, and her breath heaved through her lungs. Liza curled herself up onto her pile of clothes, hiding her face among one of the blankets, which still smelled like home. And she let the tears fall. Weeping, she thought that no one could be so cruel as to leave her in this small storage unit and not let her go back home. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, after all.

  But one thought made her cry harder. People were cruel and evil, like those who kept everyone on the Moon colonies poor and starving, people who would whip the field workers for not working hard enough. No, there was no good in the world.

  Liza didn’t know when she fell asleep, or how long she’d been asleep, but she was suddenly woken up by a loud rumbling. She jumped up, looking around frantically, but the storage unit was still dark. She rose on hands and knees, and she could feel the vibrations, probably from the engines, beneath her hands. And the ship jerked to the side and began to move.

  “No!” she shouted. “No, no, no!” She scrambled to her feet and threw herself in the direction of the door. She felt along the wall until she found it and began to pound against the metal. “Let me out!” she cried. “I don’t belong here! Let me go home!” Her cries echoed into nothingness. Liza stumbled backwards, tripped over her boots and landed on the ground. She scrambled around, searching with her hands for her pile of clothes, and curled up next to it. What hope was there for Liza Strange?

  Her tears had dried, or at the very least, she’d used up all the available water in her body. She lay curled around her clothing and blankets, wishing she could die and end this horrible ordeal. She clutched the medicine bottle, keeping it close to her heart, as a reminder of how she’d screwed up, chasing after that boy. She should have just let him get away with it and take the loss.

  Liza’s ears perked up. She could hear loud footsteps. Liza scrambled to her feet and stood, her back pressed against the far wall. She heard noises on the other side of the door, and it slid open. The freaky looking man stood in the doorway. He tossed down a plate of some kind, and grinned wickedly at her. In the faint light coming from behind him, Liza could see the way his hair stuck out at strange angles. He had a thin beard trailing from his chin, and a sharp, pointed face and nose, and his eyes were small and beady. Without a word, the door shut, and she heard his retreating footsteps. Liza moved forward and searched around in the dark for the plate he’d tossed into the cell. She found it and lowered her nose for a sniff. They were soybeans, and they smelled disgusting.

  “You could have at least cooked them correctly!” she shouted. She wanted to shun the food, but her stomach rumbled at the smell, even of badly cooked soybeans. Using her hands, she was able to find the spoon he’d thrown in with it, and she set to eating the bland, mushy soybean meal.

  That was how it went for a few days, until the spiky-haired man stopped coming at all. Liza had no idea of the passage of time but could guess by the noise of the engines how quickly they were moving.

  With the halt of the delivered meals of mushy, tasteless soybeans, Liza was forced to keep herself lying down, trying to conserve her strength. Part of her wondered if she would die, and the other part wondered if someone would have mercy on her. The storage unit was beginning to smell unpleasant, as the first few meals had forced a bowel movement out of her. Rather than make a horrid mess in the storage unit, she used one of the empty metal bins. Even though the lid could be snapped back on to close the bin, the smell still leaked out into the rest of the open space. Liza tied a shirt around her face for some relief. When the food stopped, Liza almost instantly lost the urge to have to go at all, with nothing for her body to filter out.

  Liza awoke to the sound of voices. Opening her eyes was pointless in the dark, but force of habit opened them anyway. Through the walls and door of the storage unit, she could faintly hear a man and a woman talking. Liza didn’t bother to move; she hadn’t moved in a long time and felt that maybe she’d spent her entire life lying there on the metal floor of the cell.

  The voices grew louder. The female voice spoke right outside the door.

  “I never know where Corbin stores that stuff,” the woman was saying.

  “I don’t think he knows either,” the male voice replied, and the two laughed. Liza heard mechanical noises on the door, and slowly, it slid open. The hallway was brightly lit this time, and the man and woman stood in the doorway. A rectangle of light fell over Liza, making her quickly shut her eyes.

  “What the stars?” the woman cried. Liza tried to lift her head up, but only managed an inch before she dropped back down into her pile of clothes. By the light from the corridor, Liza could see the woman in the doorway had long, braided red hair, and was t
all and angular, very feminine looking, with delicately arched eyebrows.

  “Who is that?” the man asked, still shadowed by the woman. She didn’t answer but rushed into the cell and knelt down beside Liza. She laid a hand on Liza’s head.

  “Where’d you come from?” she asked. Liza opened her mouth to speak, but it was dry as moon dust. “She needs medical attention,” the woman said, turning to look at the man. Liza tried to get a look at the man, but her vision was blurry from the endless darkness in which she’d been living. He nodded and backed up while the woman carefully slid her hands beneath Liza’s body and lifted her up effortlessly. “She weighs practically nothing,” she added, moving out of the storage unit. Liza squeezed her eyes shut from the harsh lights above. The woman carried Liza up the flight of steps, where her body was met with a pleasant smell and pleasant temperatures. She heard the man following behind.

  “Take her to the medical bay,” the man said, looking over the woman’s shoulder. She nodded and turned down a hall and stopped in front of a door. The man brushed past her and pressed the button to open the door, and it slid aside with a woosh. Liza was carried inside and laid down on a soft bed covered in white sheets and a thin, thermal blanket. With much effort, Liza threw her arm over her eyes.