by R J Johnson
“I don’t think they kept it secret from the Coalition,” she said, shaking her head.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m saying Palmetto came to you before this whole mess started. He knew the Coalition was outclassed by whoever it was that kicked his ass,” Emeline said. “He wouldn’t have tried to surrender unless he was scared money.”
“I don’t think it was a surrender, more like an alliance,” Meade said, recalling his strange middle-of-the-night meeting with Palmetto. “I’ve known that man for a long time and he doesn’t spook easily.”
“Exactly,” Emeline said, pacing in front of the professor’s luxury yacht. “They also said they wanted to remake the power structure in the system.”
“He’s using us as a cutout,” he said suddenly.
“A what?”
“A patsy. Someone to blame when the shooting starts.”
“And then we circle back around to our central question,” she said, pursing her lips. “Who is the professor going to have us kill?”
Meade chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. He was about to respond with a few theories when the professor entered the launch bay, interrupting their conversation.
“I hope you two are keeping your distance from one another. I wouldn’t want to see you end this trip… prematurely.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Meade replied sarcastically. “How ‘bout you get on with explaining what you want us to do.”
“Inside if you don’t mind,” the professor, extended a hand, indicating they should follow him into the ship.
Meade waited until he was sure Emeline cleared the hatch and then moved up the ramp, letting out a low whistle once he stepped inside.
“You weren’t kidding about the luxury part.”
The ramp led into a foyer that would have fit Meade’s entire apartment. A hallway led down to an oval room, a set of couches arranged around a six-foot wide circular table.
“Please, have a seat,” the professor said.
Meade sat down across from Emeline as the professor watched their awkward dance to avoid one another.
“I see you’re already taking precautions to avoid touching one another. That’s good. I’ll skip the reminder that I have you on an incredibly short leash,” the professor said. The jovial tone in the man’s voice belied the menace behind his eyes.
Meade knew his best bet was to take the professor seriously, but he couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, we get it professor. I’ve got cooties and she can’t touch me.”
“Close enough,” the professor’s eyes crinkled, watching him closely. “Now, what do you know of the Last War and the Treaty of ‘44 that ended it?”
“What everyone knows,” Meade said. “It’s what pushed humanity to finally create a permanent settlement on Mars.”
“It also made sure nukes were kept out of everyone’s hands,” Emeline added. “To try and keep humanity out of another war like the last one.”
“Not only nukes,” the professor said, raising a finger. “They banned anything that could one day be considered a weapon of mass destruction. That meant all our best minds who were working on things like cloning, nanotechnology, and advanced particle physics were told to go home and forget everything they learned. The Treaty of ‘44 is a suicide pact slowly killing our species.”
“Some argue it’s what kept us alive over the last sixty years,” Emeline retorted. “The treaty, for all its flaws, worked. I think people proved we’re not to be trusted with any kind of weapon capable of killing so many so quickly.”
“If it wasn’t going to be nukes, it was going to be biological, or chemical,” Meade added. “Everyone knows that.”
“Everyone knows that because that’s the story the Coalition and Consortium keep telling,” the professor said, waving his hand dismissively. “I believe they signed that suicide pact so that they would never lose control again. Don’t you see? It’s about control. Of you, your people, and your mind. They want you living the way THEY want you to. Not the way YOU want to.”
“So, you’re the big savior for humanity this time?” Meade snorted. “Cause I’ve got to tell you, I’ve met a few of those already and they never seem to get anything accomplished.”
The professor shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if you believe me. It only matters if you follow my orders. If you do that, I will deactivate the nanites and you shall be granted your freedom.”
Meade swallowed back his anger and looked over at Emeline. It wasn’t like he had any other choice.
“What do you need us to do?” Meade asked finally.
The professor allowed a slight smile to touch the edge of his lips before continuing.
“I have a list of people I want you to talk to,” the professor said. “Some of the meetings you take will be as a representative of the Martian Independence Movement. Others will need to be more… clandestine.”
The professor opened his armbar and selected a file, sending it to them. Meade scrolled though the list of names that had appeared on his display and his jaw dropped.
“This is a list of your targets,” the professor said, watching him closely. “A simple touch is all it will take.”
Meade glanced at Emeline, then back at the professor, his eyes narrowing. “That’s a big ask without sending along provisions.”
The professor placed a pill bottle on the table between them. “These pills contain the same type of nanites that you saw dissolve Mr. Tate yesterday. Simply take one a few moments before you’re about to meet your target and then tag him with the app on this disc.”
The professor placed a small armbar disc on the table next to the table. Meade examined both, picking up the pills first. Hearing them rattle around in the bottle somehow made all this more real. He extended his hand for the disc and grabbed it, placing it on his armbar, installing the program.
It opened, a 3D display projecting three glowing circles in a space around him.
“Each circle represents a human being within range and are identified by their armbar signature,” the professor said. “Take a pill and then choose your target using the app. Then, all you need to do is touch them and the rest will take care of itself.”
“If you’re smart about it, no one will even know you had anything to do with their deaths,” the professor said.
Meade played with the pills in his hands and for a moment, thought about attacking the professor. He looked up at the older man, who was smiling back at him.
“You’re thinking about trying to use those on me,” he chuckled. “I don’t blame you really but, you should think it through. Even if you were able to somehow reach me before I shot you dead, do you really believe I’d allow any piece of technology I designed kill me?”
The professor waved his hand dismissively. “You’re welcome to try of course.”
Meade stared at the pills in his hand and wondered if the man was bluffing. Every instinct inside him told him not to try the professor. He would have his chance.
“Relax professor,” Meade said, looking back up at the man in his eyes. “Like you said, you’re the only one who can turn off the nanites. Killing you doesn’t solve my problem.”
The professor chuckled once again. “I’m happy to see you’ve caught on.”
“And after we kill those people, you’ll replace them with those clones of yours?” Emeline asked speaking up for the first time. There was no judgement in her voice, only curiosity.
“The ones I deign necessary,” the professor replied. “The rest will simply disappear into rumors and innuendo. After all, there will be no body to worry about.”
“We know,” Meade said, recalling the electric shock that dissolved Tate and felt sick to his stomach.
“Excellent,” the professor said. He got up and walked to the hatch of the yacht. “The ship is yours. The autopilot has been programmed for San Angeles. You’ll have a few days before the ceremony, which should give you plenty of time to accomplish the mission I’ve set out for you.”
<
br /> Meade’s nausea resurfaced and he forced it back, nodding his assent to the professor. Keeping his mouth shut around the portly man was getting harder.
“Excellent,” the professor said, beaming. He walked back down the ramp and paused at the entrance, looking back up at them. “Bon voyage.”
“Go Bon voyage yourself,” Meade replied crossly.
The door to the ship closed, locking them inside.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bon Voyage
Meade spent the next few days on their voyage to Venus getting wasted in his quarters. Every time he saw Emeline’s face, he was reminded how so many things had gone wrong.
It was his fault that Kansas was killed.
It was his fault they were on their way to Venus on a mission to kill a bunch of folk who didn’t deserve killing.
And worst of all, it was his fault the slightest touch by him to Emeline would result in her instant death.
Whenever he saw her, he had an irresistible urge to grab her and tell her everything was going to be all right, while she whispered similar sentiments to him.
But that was impossible. Even though Emeline was only one room over, it felt like they were separated by light years.
He felt the best way to protect her was by keeping himself locked up in the quarters of the luxurious yacht the professor provided to them. After all, what else did he need? He had plenty of things to watch on the wireless, the bar was fully stocked, and the bed was comfortable.
He’d had some rough rides through space before but, he had to admit, this one was smooth as silk. Meade even managed to occasionally forget he was locked up inside a tin can gliding through the emptiness of space.
They were getting closer to Venus. Meade noticed the yellow-white planet outside his cabin window the other night and had spent the last day and a half watching it grow larger in the window. They were getting close enough to where he could start to make out the top layer of Venus’ clouds, which zipped around the planet at an incredible 360 kilometers per hour.
The surface wasn’t much better. Even though Venus was the perfect ‘twin’ to the Homeworld, the planet’s dense atmosphere made living on the surface quite impossible. That’s why the city of San Angeles was located about 50 kilometers above the acid-laden clouds, where the atmosphere’s pressure was far closer to what humans were used to.
The display on his armbar said their ship would arrive in the next 26 hours and Meade wasn’t looking forward to the landing. Stories about what it was like to land on San Angeles ranged based on the pilot’s skill. Their ship was on autopilot the whole way and he hoped the professor’s computer was up to the job.
His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn’t had a thing to eat all day except whiskey. He was running out of that too, so now was a good time for him to hit the kitchen and restock his provisions. This was his last chance to tie one on before he had to focus on the case.
Fortunately, the pantry on the professor’s ship was well-stocked. He hadn’t had much of an appetite the first few days on board, but as he looked through the food available to him, he felt like an idiot.
“Good to see you got your appetite back,” he heard a voice say.
He turned, startled.
“Easy,” Emeline said. “It’s me.”
“Yeah, and you’re a lot closer than you should be,” he mumbled. He grabbed a few provisions out of the fridge for a sandwich, placing the ingredients on the counter. He took the long way around the mess to put the island between him and Emeline.
“This your first thing to eat today besides gut rot?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Hey, I’m working on it,” he replied, feeling irritated. He was finding it difficult to slice the bread, which was probably thanks to the whiskey he’d been drinking all day.
“Look, I know you’re only being shitty to me because there’s no one else out here to take your frustrations out on. But you might want to remember you and I are partners in this,” she said, sounding annoyed. “So, go ahead and be as pissy as you want just so you realize that won’t get us any closer to getting out of this gilded cage of ours.”
Meade grumbled. “I’m trying the best I can.”
“No, you’re not,” she snapped. “You’re wasting away in your quarters gulping down whiskey and leaving me all alone. That’s damn selfish of you Meade.”
He felt his face get hot. What the hell? He was trying to protect her!
“You think I want to be here?” he retorted. “You saw what happened with Tate. He melted into nothing, I couldn’t live with myself if I did that to you.”
She sighed. “I know the risks Jim. I was there too.”
“Then don’t get mad at me for doing what I need to do in order to protect you,” he shouted, slamming the knife down on the table between them. The plates rattled with the force of his blow and he turned, trying to push back the anger he was feeling for her.
“Put down the drink and let me make you a sandwich,” she said.
He looked at her and felt another flood of emotions. He didn’t hold back this time and he slammed his fists on the table.
“I did this,” he said, fuming to himself.
Emeline didn’t move.
“I got Kansas killed Em, and I’m so, so sorry for that,” he said, still not looking at her. “He was a good man, and I’m the reason he’s dead.”
“We both know he would’ve come along no matter what the risks were,” she said. “He loved you, Meade. I know you’re hurting. I’m hurting too. But I also know it doesn’t matter now and that we need to set aside our grief until later. And we WILL grieve. Believe you me. Because I know he would have wanted us to complete the mission and get home safe. You know that better than anyone.”
“And what is our mission exactly?” Meade shot back. “This is assassination by blackmail. I have no idea what to do next.”
“I do,” she said, calmly. “You sober up and become the Jim Meade I know and love. You remember that you’re a good man and that you’ve made mistakes before. That’s all. Those mistakes don’t own you, you own them.”
He looked back up at her and swallowed, feeling his love for the woman who had changed his life well up within him. “There is no finer woman in this system than you.”
“Only the system?” she asked, smiling. She cut the sandwich she had been preparing in half and slid the plate over to him. “Now we eat. Get up and get us back in the game because we have a mission to plan so we can go home and bang each other’s brains out.”
He took a bite of the sandwich. It was perfect in every way.
Just like her.
“Thanks, Em,” he said. “I needed this.”
“So do I. Half that sandwich was for me dickhead,” she said, teasing him. He slid the plate back over to her and she grabbed the other half of the sandwich.
She hesitated before picking it up and Meade shook his head. “I don’t think that’s how that works. Otherwise you’d have been dead already by touching anything else I’ve touched in this ship.”
Emeline considered this, and then took a bite of the sandwich. She moaned in ecstasy. “I do know how to make a damn fine sandwich, don’t I?”
“You could bring peace between the powers with ‘em,” he said through a mouthful.
She giggled, and he smiled.
And for a moment, everything between them was normal again.
“What’s your plan?” she asked, still chewing.
He looked back at Em, the embarrassment evident on his face. “I haven’t the first idea what to do. I’ve been too busy drinking the last few days to think on our situation.”
She chuckled. “Lucky for you, I’ve been thinking about that stuff and have an idea.”
“Oh yeah?” Meade asked, sounding hopeful.
She took another bite of the sandwich, holding up a finger for him while she finished chewing. “Yea, but, I’m not sure you’re gonna like it though.”
Meade’s face fell
. He had a bad feeling about what she was going to say.
“Don’t say it,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.
She looked surprised, “I know he’s a shitheel, but we already know he’s looking for allies.”
“I know,” Meade said, sounding glum. “I just don’t want you to say it.”
“I’ll make the call,” she said. “Help spare you the pain of dealing with him.”
“Thanks,” Meade said. He hesitated and then brought up something that he knew would be a sore subject. “I have been thinking about calling some friends for some help.”
“Back up?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve got guns.”
“I’m not talking about guns,” he replied. “I’m talking about a ship.”
This time, it was Emeline’s turn for her face to fall. “Oh no, come on.”
“She’s the only one we know who owes us a favor and commands a fast attack.”
“Yeah, but…” Emeline waved her hands in frustration. “You slept with her!”
He groaned. “Once. Five years ago. When you and I weren’t a thing, remember?”
She acknowledged this with a nod and grimaced.
“Still,” she said. “You think she’ll want to help us?”
“I think she knows she owes us,” he responded quietly. “I’ll make that call. You make the other. But first we finish this sandwich together because I can’t think of a thing I’d rather be doing.”
“I can,” she said, with a frustrated edge to her voice.
He glanced at her and they laughed.
It felt good.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Favor
“Do you know what you’re asking me Meade?” the blonde woman on the other side of the viewscreen was scowling at him.
“Yeah, but… you owe me…?” Meade said, feeling a lot less confident than when he first floated the idea of calling his old friend Captain Sarah Gonzalez for help. The moment Sarah appeared on screen he had felt the awkwardness resurface. They hadn’t talked since he saved her father from prison, but that was a long time ago.