***
They pounded on the door leading into the prince’s chambers less than a half hour later. Instead of the prince greeting them personally like the last time they had visited, two guards with long rifles answered.
“We’re here to see the prince.”
“Appointment?”
“We don’t have an appointment. Tell him Jak Phoenix is back.”
“Sorry, but the prince is not in. You’ll have to make an appointment and he’s booked solid until sometime late next week.”
Jak was burning up inside. “Look, I know he’s here or you wouldn’t be here guarding him. Just let us in and we won’t cause a disturbance. I just want my money.”
“Sorry…” said the guard in a patronizing tone, pronouncing his overall mass over Jak, “but who are you planning on disturbing?”
Jak’s patience was absolutely depleted. He wasn’t an overly passionate person and surprised even himself when he said, “You, for starters,” and smacked his fist into the guards face. He had only a moment of satisfaction watching the man reel back before the second guard slapped his rifle across the back of Jak’s legs.
Before Jak’s knees hit the ground, the guard pulled the rifle tightly around his neck.
Baxter jumped in out of obligation as the first guard regained his composure. His attack was little more than an attempted body check, deflected awkwardly off to the side at the last second by the guard. Baxter lost his balance and tumbled loudly into a table in the vestibule, sending a large crystal vase with a gallon of water and a bundle of yellow flowers shattering across the floor.
“Just bring those fools in.”
The tinkling of the bits of crystal across the hard floor seemed silenced by the suddenly commanding voice of the prince.
Jak and Baxter were all but thrown into the room, where the prince sat at his desk calmly.
Jak spoke first, rubbing his throat. “Where is our money?”
“I’m truly sorry, you’ll have to refresh my memory.”
Jak eyeballed the guard who had obviously been given the signal to stay close by. “It’s a simple question,” said Jak. “Where is our money?”
“I must apologize for the confusion.” The prince’s voice cracked. “It seems there has been new legislation that I was simply not aware of last time we spoke. The king has made it his new initiative to consolidate our business practices to properly registered on-world vendors.”
“So all the sudden we aren’t legit enough to do business with you?”
“That’s the long and short of it, I’m afraid.”
“This is garbage.”
“Unfortunately, my hands are tied. I’m sure you understand I can’t go against my king’s direct request.”
“You should have thought about that before you sent us out there to get beaten up by the Zeldoks and their pets. We did our part and we want the cash you promised.”
“I can put in a request for some additional funding in the next fiscal year, but as I said my hands are tied at this time. I don’t know what I can do for you gentlemen.”
“Well you can start by giving back the talisman.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen either.”
“Well you better figure out what to do or there’s gonna be trouble around here.”
The prince finally decided to drop the act and be straight forward with Jak, putting his arms down on the desk to show a sudden sense of confidence. “What are you going to do, Jak? I’ve got your ship outside, which is mine if I want it and all I have to do is snap my fingers and that guard right there will shoot both of you in the back of the head. My offer, not that I even need to make one, is your lives and your ship back. Nothing more, nothing less. And, I honestly don’t give a damn whether you accept or not.” The prince picked up a chart from his desk. “I have quite a workload ahead of me today, so we’re done here.”
Jak didn’t see any alternative to leaving quietly. He hated the feeling of being utterly helpless, but the bottom line was that the prince was right. There was nothing he or Baxter could do. This was the risk in their profession. Under the table work led to under the table dealings. Jak stood up and Baxter followed suit. Jak gave the prince the best ‘I will get you if it’s the last thing I do’ looks but it was in vain since Herrold refused to look up from his pretend work.
The two defeated men walked embarrassingly past the guards and into their waiting ship. Two guards at the entrance parted and allowed them to board. Jak hammered the throttle forward, nearly snapping it.
It took the calm blackness of space to give Baxter the bravery to confront Jak in his rare cloud of anger. “Wow, that was an amazing waste of time,” said Baxter. “All that work for nothing.”
Jak only raised his eyebrows in response, while he sat in his torn leather chair, observing the stars. His anger had burnt off, leaving the ashes of depression behind.
Then something hit him and his mind started to race. “Not nothing,” he said. He was quickly coming out of his daze and Baxter could see his gears working.
“What are you talking about? Are you alright?”
“I’m okay actually. Ten seconds ago I was ready to jump off a cliff, but right now…now I’m good. I’ve got the answer.
“The answer to what exactly?”
“The answer to how we’re gonna get our money…or at least a bit of it.”
“How?”
Jak reached into his breast pocket and flicked the security pass card from the prince’s lake house onto the control panel where it bounced its way over toward Baxter.
“What good is that going to be?”
“This is how we’re going to get in.”
“You heard him tell you it was only good for one entry. It’s dead now. He wouldn’t have given it to us if we could activate it again.”
“Harry neglected to realize we have one of the best computer masterminds in the galaxy with us.”
“Yeah, I’m flattered and all, but one of the main system stacks are down and the micro-interfaces are faulty.”
“Systems are at working parameters.” The computer interjected in its typically obtrusive fashion. Baxter rolled his eyes and deactivated the audio before the computer could interrupt with any more flawed data.
“Does it at least make you feel good that I have so much confidence in you?”
“This isn’t going to work…” said Baxter firmly, even though Jak could see him already thinking of ideas to make it work. “I’ll be back in a bit.” Baxter popped up, taking the pass card with him into the back of the ship.
It was a great time for Jak to put his feet up on the console and take a break. It had been a rough few days. He had been far too trusting with the prince and it was disappointing. Jak didn’t want to be full of distrust, but it was getting more and more difficult. The let downs were getting more serious too, especially when he was doing anything he could to avoid working a regular job.
The sound of crashing from the back of the ship broke him out of his dwelling thoughts. The sound of an electrical arc made him picture Baxter going through a montage of failed attempts and tests, determined to get something put together to solve their dilemma.
After a little time passed, Baxter yelled Jak’s name. The montage must have ended.
Jak dragged himself out of his chair and headed to the back of the ship where Baxter had organized what looked like a pile of garbage strewn across a table. Jak had been expecting to see Baxter holding the card with a smile on his face.
“This is the best I could do with the crap we have,” said Baxter, still breathing heavy from his rushed efforts.
“What the hell have you built?”
Baxter guided him along the contraption. “On one end we have a battery from your Z8 gun. It’s the only thing I could find with the right voltage output. It carries the power through these cables to this number pad.” Baxter tapped a heavy duty metallic box with push button numbers on it that looked like it had been ripped fr
om a vault door. He saw Jak’s eyes glazing over and sped up his presentation. “That’s wired into a control circuit which is interfaced into the key card.”
“So what do we do with it?”
“Slide the card into the slot, type some numbers and the control circuit basically tells it that the numbers are right.”
“Perfect, let’s go.”
“You know it is slightly possible that this won’t work. What do you have planned then?”
“Bax, you know I never plan anything until we’re already in trouble. Let’s move.”
Jak Phoenix: Paid in Full (A Short Story) Page 5