24


Crouching low, I darted across the trench, ducking around the corner as soon as possible. Callus and his team secured the large, flat area around their ship, aiming guns at the tangled maze I’d returned to. For a moment, I thought I had done my job too well and they had missed seeing me. A heartbeat later, I heard one of them shout out to my position.
I needed them to come after me while I was still close enough to the ship that I could double back and get inside. Best-case scenario, Callus came with his men, I ditched the lot of them, and then only had to overpower a pilot and copilot to get control of the recon ship.
I'd used the technique before. It never felt like it would work, but I had good luck with it. Moving through the maze, I quickly found my way back to the small landing area and saw Elise and the doctor zip-tied just inside the door. Apparently, they hadn't made it to the brig yet. The security team was fixing electronic restraints to keep them from taking over the ship before taking them inside.
That wouldn't work on me, because my Reaper AI was part of my nerve-ware. It went where I went. When I had been on death row, they had counter measures in place. That was then, this was now. They turned me loose on a mission and they were going to get more than they bargained for.
Neither squad had followed me into the maze, which was a huge fucking problem. No plan survived first contact with the enemy, but this little stunt hadn’t even gotten started before it failed.
“I told you to abort,” X-37 said.
“Fine. Log it. We’ll talk about it later,” I muttered, not really in the mood right now.
The squad stayed near the deployment ramp. Callus moved forward, straight for my position. He laughed and shook his head.
"Nice trick, Cain. But I read about all your tricks when I was preparing for this mission," he said, then addressed his team. "Go back inside and ready for ship security. He's going to try to steal it."
"I really don't like you," I said.
"That's a shame. You should like me, because I'm going to do you a favor. I read your psych profiles and how much the torture and killing bothered you,” he said. “You won't have time to think about it in hell."
"That's not really helpful.” This guy was an asshole. “Was that a joke? Don't quit your day job."
He came at me right when I thought he was going to make another insult, thrusting his rifle forward with a bayonet that extended.
I slipped to the right, aiming my pistol before I realized that was what he wanted. What he’d apparently forgotten was that I wasn't some recruit fresh out of basic training. Rather than leaving my arm extended to find the shot, I pulled back as close to my body as I could without interfering with the slide and fired until he staggered backward from the impacts on his armor.
My victory was short-lived. He regained his balance and attacked before I could reload or transition to my HDK, which was what I should've used in the first place if I'd been ready.
It had been so long since I’d faced an adversary of this caliber that I’d made a mistake. This was how a Reaper died, taken down by his replacement.
I pushed my increasingly dark thoughts aside in favor of instinct and rage. It was time to fight angry, something I normally avoided.
He lunged forward to tackle me. I let him drive me back and spread my feet wide to establish my base as I pushed down on his neck and one of his shoulders. Once I’d stuffed the takedown attempt, I grabbed his right arm and leveled it down, using the strength of my augmented left arm to apply pressure to the elbow joint.
He was smart enough not to resist, choosing instead to fall and twist until he was facing me. I still had hold of his arm, but it was the wrong angle to break the joint.
He kicked me in the stomach, driving me into the air. It took me longer than it should have to fall. Weak gravity added a dangerous dynamic to the contest.
I looked to my right and saw we were close to the gravity generator. The entire area was marred by rust and disrepair.
He flew at me with a punch that glanced off my light recon helmet. If I've been a bit slower, he probably would've cracked it down the middle. Almost simultaneously with this attack, I launched counter attacks, striking him several times on his torso, driving one particularly savage half-fist into his armpit where his armor was weakest.
He flinched and staggered back. I jumped forward with an action-video-quality front kick that blasted him into the air.
“Cain!” he shouted as he wind-milled his arms and legs.
Three or four seconds passed before I was satisfied he wasn't coming back down. I presented my middle finger to answer his curses and turned away, wishing I had a Starbrand cigar to celebrate.
“You should finish him,” X-37 said.
“Agreed.” What did my AI think I was doing out here, playing rock, paper, scissors?
I jogged to my HDK and picked it up, then fired several rounds at him just to be sure. He spiraled away from Dreadmax, not as fast as he would have if we were truly in the void but with a certainty that meant his death.
It wasn't long before I lost view of his silhouette against the flickering environment shield.
I scooped up my pistol, slamming it into the holster as I rushed for the deployment ramp of the recon ship. It was nearly closed when I dove through and rolled to my feet. A squad of spec ops soldiers and ship security Soldiers rushed me. I fired and reloaded but was quickly subdued.
"Nice try, Reaper,” the security chief spat.
“Piss off!” The lights went out as one of his men slammed a stun baton on the back of my helmet.
* * *
When I woke up, Doctor Hastings was tending to my injuries. He looked somber and grim, tired and hungry, like a man who regretted his choices.
"Their medic checked you out first, but I convinced them I was a doctor and needed to have a look," he said.
"Don't do me any favors." I tried to access X-37 but couldn't get through.
"What's the matter, Cain?” Hastings asked.
"Don't worry about it,” I said. “Where is your daughter?"
"They have a small brig, so they tossed her in there," the doctor said, exhaustion bleeding through his words.
I assessed the room and made a note of anything that might help me escape or fight back.
"It's better this way," Hastings said. He checked and rechecked the bandages and wraps that had been applied. I couldn't remember which ones I had received during my fight with Callus and which with the ship security detail.
It probably didn't matter.
"If you get out of this, and if you ever get released from prison, you should find Jason Domingo on Carver. He can help you start a new life," Hastings said, guilt evident in the tone of his voice.
“That’s incredibly generous, Doc,” I said. “What about the political refugees and nonviolent criminals who found themselves abandoned on Dreadmax? Do they deserve to die?”
A flicker of what I assumed to be decency flashed in the doctor’s eyes, and guilt. He looked at the floor. “There’s nothing to be done for them. The shipbuilders are close to having a working ship, but they won’t be able to launch without the slip drive regulator.”
“You’re telling me they have a functioning slip drive?” I couldn’t believe what he was telling me. The ability to travel through slip space was a game changer. Not only could the people on Dreadmax escape, they could harass the Union with guerilla warfare. Or vanish into the Deadlands and start new lives. Maybe a little of both.
The freighter, if they had it fixed, could move more personnel than a warship, but lacked more than asteroid busters for weapons. The haulers were also much slower.
I needed to concentrate on first things first.
“They’ve done amazing work. I should have warned the Union, but sometimes I’m nearly as rebellious as you,” Hastings said.
“Doubtful,” I said.
“You’re not the only person who has second thoughts. I’m not a monster.” He paused. “I only do what I think is right. If it’s safe. And no one gets hurt.”
“Aren’t those the same things?” I asked.
He looked away.
“Tell me about their freighter,” I demanded.
“Without a slip drive regulator, any voyage they begin would be suicide. They’d either get stuck in this system or hit the tunnel walls inside slipspace and obliterate themselves down to the atomic level. I can’t stop thinking I should tell the Union.”
This guy was going to make me kill him. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I thought maybe they would help, loan them a regulator,” he postulated.
“You know they’d just nuke the shipyard. The Union put those people there for a reason. Maybe they weren’t murderers and traitors, but they definitely crossed the wrong people.”
“It was just an idea. I know what you’re talking about. I’m not a fool. It’s just that it would take a spec ops team to get to the spine and recover the regulator,” he said, stopping to look me in the eyes. “Or maybe a Reaper.”