Hammer and Crucible

by Cameron Cooper

  Billy did not seem to be offended by the analogy. The corner of his mouth lifted a little. “I can tell you that if we don’t find a mutually agreeable arrangement, the only option you have left is a civilian therapy.” All amusement faded in his face. “There is a reason most people choose bonded mortgages for their rejuvenation. The civilian rejuvenation therapy is not worth the price. Besides, thirty years out of the hundreds we all get to live, now, is nothing.”

  “Thirty years out of every fifty or sixty is fucking bullshit,” I replied. “And besides,” I added, my anger kicking in, “I’m not interested in rejuvenation. I keep repeating this, and no one hears me. If I have to repeat myself to you once more, Juliyana will shove the point of her steak knife into whatever organ she is currently pointing it at.”

  “His left testicle,” she said calmly.

  Billy looked down and licked his lips. He frowned. “I don’t understand—”

  “Clearly,” I replied. “Let me make this simple enough so you get it. I am not looking for rejuvenation. I want crush juice. Period.”

  He swallowed. “Your cells are too old for crush juice.” His voice was strained.

  “In that case, we have no common ground upon which to do business. I suggest you leave. Quickly.”

  He rose to his feet, scraping the chair across the floor. He straightened his shoulders. “You will be back,” he told me. “You will come back when you have figured out that mine is the only way. And then, the people I work for will not be as understanding as they would have been now. Think on that.” He turned and moved away.

  Juliyana watched him go, then dropped the steak knife on the table with a grimace. “As much as I hate to say it, he may have a point, there at the end.”

  I didn’t answer her. I understood both their perspectives and I didn’t like either of them. The idea of selling half my life to gain the other half made me feel sick. Slavery has always offended me, despite the fact that in tens of thousands of years of human history, we have never managed to fully eradicate the disease. It keeps returning—a new name, a new strain, each time with restored virulence and persistence.

  What was worse about this modern version was that people sold themselves into their own slavery to gain long life. They seem to feel it was worth the trade.

  I did not. I looked at Juliyana. “There is a reason I look the way I do right now,” I pointed out to her. “Our family has a long history of military service, for the same reason.”

  Juliyana rubbed her temples, frowning. “I don’t understand,” she said. “You formally resigned. You should have got back pay, hospital bonuses, vacation pay, decoration and honors bonuses, time served… It should have been more than enough for rejuvenation, even if you ate algae pseudo food for a decade.”

  I cleared my throat. “Are you done with your steak?”

  Juliyana’s eyes narrowed. “You did have the money, then…” She looked up at me as I stood up. “What did you do with it all?”

  “I’m tired,” I said, making my voice waver querulously. “I want to lie down.”

  Juliyana considered me for a moment, her fingers tapping the handle of the steak knife. Then she got to her feet. “Is there anyone mixed up in this who isn’t holding back a fuck-ton?” She stalked off.

  The dreams were bad, right from the beginning. They gripped my head and my heart and squeezed. Noam refused to look at me properly, no matter how much I strained to see his face in the full.

  The sensation of something coming, some nameless and formless dread, was more intense, more certain than it had ever been. I felt that if I could peer over my shoulder, I might see it right behind me, its teeth bared.

  Only, I couldn’t look. All I could do was hold my breath, while my old, thin heart tried to cope.

  The worst of it was that even though he would not look at me, Noam was not just asking me to stay, this time. He was trying to warn me. In the wordless way of dreams, he was trying to make me see the menace behind me.

  Also in the way of dreams, I was helpless to turn around.

  When I woke, I found I had sweated through my clothes and the sheets beneath me.

  It was almost a relief to haul my exhausted body into an upright position. I reached for my pad, under the pillow. I knew I was reaching for distraction but didn’t care.

  At least one ship must have come through the gates while I was sleeping, for communications and newsfeeds had been updated. I had dozens of messages. Even for an old woman hiding away in an apartment on her family barge, I always received a ton of mail. Most of it was to do with family administration. As a major shareholder, I was legally entitled to copies of any communications to the Board from the CEO or anyone with family related business.

  Most of the mail I read once, then deleted. I was still going through them, when Juliyana stirred and pushed herself up on one elbow.

  “It’s the middle of the night,” she pointed out.

  “Yep.”

  She sat up properly and scrubbed at her hair, then wound it up and tied it into a knot at the back of her head. “Now I’m wide awake, too.” She moved to the edge of the bed and stretched. “Most people use their implants for messages,” she pointed out, looking at my pad.

  “Uh-huh.”

  She studied me. “Using your implants gives you headaches, too?”

  “Something like that.”

  I thought I had shunted her aside, for the silence stretched while I opened and discarded two more messages.

  “How can you stand it?” Juliyana asked softly.

  “Stand what?”

  “Having your body break down like it is? Watching it happen. Feeling it.”

  I looked up at her. “I should take Billy up on his offer, then?”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying. There have to be alternatives. There has to be a way. Anything is better than just giving up.”

  “I’m not giving up. I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

  “Only you’re obsessed with not rejuvenating. It’s like you’re punishing yourself for something…” She grew still. “Really? Is that what you’re doing? Do you think dying will make up for what Noam did?”

  “Back off, Ranger. Right now.”

  Juliyana stiffened. “Yes sir.” She grabbed her sack. “I’m going for a shower.” Her voice was tight.

  I let her go. I might’ve argued, or even tried to apologize, except my attention was suddenly and sharply grabbed by the message I had just opened.

  It was from the Carranoak accounting department, sent directly to me, with no copies to anyone else. It was a request for me to approve the dispersal of this year’s dividends for the Board and the major shareholders. All I had to do was add my chop and indicate which of the holding accounts should be used for dispersal.

  It had to be a mistake. Farhan, as the CEO, got to approve the dividend payout. Only, technically, as the majority shareholder, I outranked him. Had some AI failed to take into account the family dynamics, and instead followed formal procedures?

  I looked at the amount glowing on the screen. Farhan had been depressed about the miserable financial situation of the family. The dividend payout for each of us was, I admit, a lot smaller than previous years. Only, I was looking at the bottom line. The sum total of all dividends.

  The amount made me tremble.

  I looked at the screen for a long time, my heart thudding.

  Then I pushed the board back under my pillow, as far away from me as possible, thrust on my boots and went out for fresh coffee. Sleeping wasn’t helping me.

  Being awake wasn’t fun, either.

  6

  Juliyana wasn’t wrong about it being the middle of the night. The corridors were deserted and the lights turned down to just enough to see my way.

  It was disconcerting. I have rarely been on a station which wasn’t permanently awake. Hell, most of the bars and stores didn’t have doors or locks, for they never shut. They just rotated through staff in endless shifts, while the concours
e lights blazed, the noise spiraled, and passengers came and went in tidal waves.

  Even the Umb Judeste was alive at all hours on the lower decks, although the higher family levels could reach this level of stillness. Sometimes.

  My chances of finding fresh coffee in these ghostly corridors were not good, although I pressed on toward the wider passage where the landing bays were located. That wide lane was as close to a concourse the station had to offer. I could perhaps find a public printer I could coax into handing over a cup.

  Hunting for one was something to do, other than sleeping. Or reading messages on my pad.

  The main corridor was as empty of people as any other corridor I had already passed through. I didn’t mind being alone, though.

  The passage differed from the functional corridors which ran off it, not just because it was wider, but because it was irregularly shaped. Bays carved regular spaces out of the sides. Each bay was a storefront. There was even a bar—with shutters over the windows and zero light showing anywhere. No advertisements pocked the façade, either.

  I couldn’t imagine any spacer gravitating toward this bar, except it was the only one I found as I moved up and down the corridor. Most stations had a bar, a more-or-less discreet brothel, a day-hilton, longer term accommodation and at least one food outlet in between landing bays and official services and administration. Unregulated and unofficial merchants plied up and down the concourse, selling goods and services which ranged from unusual to illegal. I was offered a three-humped camel, once. I had to look up what a camel was.

  They came for me out of the narrowest of service trenches just as I passed by, my irritation growing, along with my need for caffeine.

  I spotted them from the corner of my eye, and my arm came up instinctively. My right hand reached for the shriver, which was no longer on my hip.

  They wore reflective masks and muted clothing, which blocked all telling details. I couldn’t base gender upon height, either. The only thing I knew for certain was that they were not friendly. That was all I needed to know.

  The arm of the first slapped up against my forearm, making my arm and shoulder creak heavily with the impact. The second and third stepped around him and came for me from the flanks.

  Not good.

  It occurred to me with the sensation of the last piece of a puzzle dropping into place, that they were utterly silent in their approach. They were not raising their voices with threats or demands.

  They wanted this to be soft and invisible.

  So I opened my mouth, filled my lungs, and bellowed as hard as I could. “Help! Help me! They’re attacking me!”

  “Shut her up, will you?” the leader breathed. Male.

  The two on my flanks were trying to get their hands on me. Inevitably they would, for I was outnumbered, but I had no intention of making it easy for them. I kicked and punched and twisted. I kept my feet moving. It had been decades since I had taken on three at a time. Once, it would have barely raised my pulse.

  The most shocking aspect of the struggle was how truly weak I had become. Women recruited in the Rangers were taught early in their careers how to offset their gender disadvantages, with moves and blocks and defenses which didn’t require huge amounts of upper body strength or muscle. Yet now, even those tricks, when I applied them, didn’t send my attackers staggering back or drop them to the ground. They grunted. I was handing out pain, certainly, but it didn’t slow them down.

  Even though I put my full body weight behind my fist, it landed with the impact of a pillow.

  “Duck, Danny,” Juliyana said, from behind me.

  I was really glad she had not directed me to leap to the side. I was exhausted. Gratefully, I dropped to the ground, thrusting out my hand so I could stay squatting and not lose my balance. It was not out of the question that I might have to move fast in a moment. I needed to keep my feet under me.

  Juliyana leapt over me, using her impetus to drive the heel of her hand against the middle guy’s face. I suspect she was aiming for where she thought his jaw might be, underneath the reflecting mask.

  A metallic crunch sounded, as her fist drove through the mask. This time, the man staggered back in an uncontrolled manner I found highly satisfying. Even more comforting was the thud of his landing.

  Juliyana swung to tackle the one who had been reaching for me from my right. He had shifted to come at me from behind. All his attention was on Juliyana, for she held her standard issue serrated blade.

  So I hooked my elbow around his ankle and yanked with all my might. It was delightful to feel the floor vibrate as he dropped.

  Juliyana spun again. Her hair, still wet from the shower, sprayed droplets around her as she took on the third man.

  I crept-walked my way out of the range of action, then carefully got to my feet. I didn’t need to watch the outcome of the bout. Juliyana was a trained Ranger.

  By the time I turned to see how it was going, the third man also laid on the floor. A puddle of blood spread from beneath him. Juliyana sucked the tip of her finger, looking vexed. “He hurried me.”

  I glanced up and down the corridor. Despite this being the most central and busiest corridor, the shut down station meant not a single other soul had been stirred by either my shouting, or the sounds of the fight. Although, like most knife fights, it had been eerily silent.

  I tugged on Juliyana’s arm. “Put your knife away,” I ordered her. “Leave them.”

  “We should report to the station authorities.” The good Ranger, following procedure.

  “They’ll have paid off station security at least. No one came running,” I pointed out.

  “Who paid off security, though?”

  I pulled on her arm again. It barely moved her, because I was weak and shaking with adrenaline aftermath. I tugged again. This time she stirred and followed me along the corridor. After a few steps, she put the knife away.

  Walking was the best thing I could have done. By the time we reached our rented room, my shaking had subsided and my brain was working things through.

  Juliyana sat on the edge of her bunk, her hands on her knees, squeezing them. “What was that all about?” she asked, sounding deeply confused. “We haven’t been spending money here. You don’t dress rich. What did they want from you?”

  “They didn’t want something from me. They wanted me.”

  Juliyana put it together with an almost audible click. Her mouth dropped open. “Billy’s employers…”

  I nodded. “Apparently, telling them no wasn’t enough.”

  Juliyana’s face grew stormy. “I should have punctured his balls for him.”

  “He’s just a go-between. He passed on my ‘no.’ and whoever they are decided negotiations were not quite done yet.”

  “Could they do that? Abduct you, force you to take rejuvenation and make you work for them?”

  Her naivete was understandable. Like me, she served in the combat battalions. I had no direct experience with civilian law enforcement, although I had a number of friends who had dedicated their Ranger careers to law enforcement. Some of the conversations around the table, late at night when they were relaxed, had been brow raising.

  “These people have methods to force their recruits to behave themselves. The most popular one is the introduction of a drug tailored to their DNA, which makes the recruit dependent upon the father organization for their steady supply.” I drew a breath, let it out. “That’s what they were doing forty years ago. I’m sure they have far more creative ways to bind their soldiers to them, these days.”

  Juliyana shuddered. “I’ve heard rumors, over the years. I’m combat, so I never saw any evidence of it. I figured it was exaggeration, at best.”

  I glanced around the room. “We can’t stay here. We’ll need another room, under a different name.” Although how I was to manage that, I would have to figure out later. Getting around the serial number in one’s wrist required funds, time and some dubious connections.

  Money did not h
ave to be a problem anymore, though. I pulled the pad out from under the pillow and turned it on. The message glowed up at me.

  “Danny?” Juliyana asked quietly, as if she thought she was interrupting me mid-thought.

  She was interrupting, only I had been around and around this thought track more than once already. I looked up at her. “I can get us out of this, in a way that will let us follow Noam down his rabbit hole. But…”

  “Do it,” Juliyana said, her voice flat.

  “No questions?”

  Juliyana slapped her damp hair back over her shoulder and straightened her back. “I know they were just paramilitary thugs, yet it feels like things are moving. We picked up a twig and prodded, and something stirred and hit back. So now, I really don’t care what it takes. I have to follow this to the end.” She raised her brow and looked at me. “You?”

  I smoothed my thumb over the corner of the pad, feeling the softness and thinness of the skin on the ball, thinking.

  I could return to my apartment on the family barge and wait for the next seizure which would kill me. Or I could follow this trail as far as it went and see where it led me.

  I thought of Juliyana’s first reaction after the fight out there in the corridor. She had reached for procedure, for what was right.

  “Like father, like daughter,” I murmured.

  That was the crux of it, right there. The Noam I knew didn’t match with the Noam the rest of the world thought they knew. And now I had evidence that they were wrong, all of them. Every single person in the Empire.

  Except for the two women sitting in this room. Oh, and whoever had goosed Juliyana into this chase in the first place. Somewhere along the line, I knew we would find who that was. I had been in such chases before and recognized the shape of the track forming ahead of us.

  That was when I realized I had made up my mind. I was already forming strategies for moving ahead.

  So I pressed my thumb with its thin skin over the glowing green button on the screen, entered my personal account information, then shut down the pad.