30


Beaten down, exhausted, and needing a cigar, I plodded toward the shipyard. Bright construction lights blinded me, casting shadows darker than the void beyond the environment shield.
A rough group of thugs eyed me from a dark alleyway. Outnumbering me ten to one, they were armed with everything from converted tools to state-of-the-art firearms.
I flipped their leader my middle finger. It was a stupid, self-destructing act. A few hours ago, it would have gotten me killed.
They backed away en masse.
“You ballless asswipes, come get some!” I tossed the words at them like a profanity grenade.
If they were still lurking in the shadows, they decided to stay there. I strode toward my destination, heedless of the increasing chaos around me.
Fuck this place.
There was a lot of activity near the shipyard. Lights shone on walkways leading to a moored freighter big enough to carry thousands of people. The motley Dreadmax soldiers guided men, women, and children into the loading area but turned away larger and larger groups of RSG, NG, and other prison gangs.
I didn’t see any of the crazies from below decks. They didn't seem to like this time of day when the shadows moved across the top deck and all of its structures.
“If you’re done sulking, I have located the recon ship that recovered Callus and deployed him to the surface of Dreadmax,” X-37 said. “It hasn't moved and seems to be in standby mode.”
I climbed what had been a point-defense turret for a better view. X-37 could detect things slightly beyond my conscious awareness through a process I didn’t understand, but generally, he saw what I saw. So the recon ship had to be in view if I looked for it.
“Now that’s beautiful. I think we’re finally catching a break,” I said, but didn’t start toward it. The larger view of Dreadmax’s destruction was horrifying and captivating at the same time. I could almost hear large sections of the deck twisting free as gravity generators went haywire or failed entirely.
On the curved horizon of the station, I saw a plume of atmosphere vent into space where part of the environment shield failed. It looked like trees were shooting out from below decks, and maybe people. A lot of people.
Near my position, a pair of Union fighters raced low over Dreadmax, dodging debris and strafing the recon ship before I could steal it.
“Son of a bitch! Are you motherfuckers kidding me!” I shouted.
The explosion was strange, like there wasn’t much atmosphere left to carry the sound waves.
“The loss of the recon ship is justifiably frustrating,” X-37 said. “I recommend you make for the shipyard with all possible haste.”
“Good call, X.” I ran like my life depended on it. What could go wrong now? The station was doomed, I was out of ammunition, and I’d learned the Union had without a doubt issued a kill-on-sight warrant for me after slaughtering most of my family and all of my friends.
The Dreadmax soldiers passed me through after a brief radio conversation I didn’t hear. One of the shipyard foremen greeted me a few moments later and helped push through the growing crowd of desperate refugees.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I was told to take you to the Jellybird. Someone important says it belongs to you now,” the foreman said. “Not sure why you deserve your own ship, but that’s above my pay grade. Why are you covered with blood?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said.
“Okay. None of my business. I get it.” He continued to talk, giving me passcodes and launch protocols I needed to follow. I ignored him, looking for Elise and the doctor in the growing crowd.
“One more thing, sir,” the foreman said. “They said you’d have something for me.”
Looking him up and down, I decided I was too tired for games. “I recovered a slip drive regulator. Your navigators will need it.”
“Fucking A! Are you serious? You can’t give that to me. I’ll take you to the Bold Freedom.” He waved for me to follow. I didn’t want to. Everything would be so much easier if the young man would take the SDR and deliver it while I handled my own business.
We approached the main hangar, where the massive freighter they’d named the Bold Freedom was being loaded and powered up.
“The Jellybird is a great little smuggler. Not that I’m calling you a smuggler,” he rambled. “But she brought medical supplies and other stuff to Dreadmax that kept a lot of us alive. We’re not all criminals, you know. Just people the Union couldn’t control, or didn’t like, or randomly decided to fucking kidnap.”
“I need to find a girl and her old man,” I said. “She’s probably been here before and he’s hard to miss. A real pretentious douchebag.”
The foreman shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell. I can ask the soldiers. They know everyone who comes this way.”
There wasn’t time for that. I was already regretting leaving the ship they’d just given me. A deep voice issued commands on the public address system, confirming my opinion of the situation. Passengers were urged to proceed in a quick, orderly fashion and do what the guards and deck foremen ordered.
Several firefights broke out near the perimeter as desperate criminals made a last assault on the shipyards. The self-proclaimed Dreadmax soldiers opened fire with crew-served machine guns that made Slab’s weapons look like toys.
“Cain!” a girl’s voice shouted.
I turned to see Elise dragging her father through the increasingly unruly crowd.
A senior ranking engineer ran down the gangplank and introduced himself. “I’m First Lieutenant Kyle Hanson. The perimeter guards advised you were bringing a slip drive converter recovered from the spine. Please tell me this isn’t a joke or an attempt to guarantee your place on the Bold Freedom.”
I handed it over. “I already have a ship.”
“He’s taking the Jellybird,” my guide said excitedly.
Hanson looked me over. “She’s a good ship. Saved a lot of lives here. Take care of her.”
I didn’t watch him run back into the big ship but shook the foreman’s hand briefly. “Take care of yourself. I gotta go.”
Moments later, I was using my arm blade to prompt Doctor Hastings. “Let’s go, Doc. I’ve got a ship.”
“Leave me for the Union,” he said. “You exceeded your mission objective. Kidnapping me will be seen as treason. You can’t defy the Union forever.”
“Haven’t you been paying attention? That’s all I do is defy those asshats. They probably gave me this mission knowing I’d steal you away and torture information out of you,” I said.
He went pale.
I laughed, nearly ashamed at how good it felt to pull his chain. “I’ll turn you over to them once this is over. For now, consider yourself a hostage.”
“What about me?” Elise asked.
I scanned the crowd that was one angry shove from turning into a mob. The soldiers were going to get all of them on board the Bold Freedom, but they were scared and desperate.
“You better stay with us, but if you want to try that way, I’m not stopping you.”
She made some shitty teenage expression that involved a snort—to my back because I was already forcing her father onboard the Jellybird.
* * *
“Stop pushing me! You’re going to pay for this. I’m very important to the Union!” Hastings complained.
“Okay, no more pushing,” I said.
He faced me, turning his back on the door to the small room I wanted him inside. “Really?”
“Yep,” I said, then shoved him backward.
He landed on his ass, a stunned and betrayed look on his face.
I shut the door and locked it. Elise looked at me with crossed arms. “Are you going to lock me in a room?”
“I’d rather not. Find yourself a bunk and get some sleep,” I said.
“I’ll help you—”
Holding up a hand, I cut her short. “You’ll get in my way and then I will lock you in a cell.”
She muttered under her breath as she ducked into one of the cramped hallways.
The bridge contained three crash chairs not much bigger than what would be in a strike ship. The walls and ceiling were covered with controls making the view screen seem small.
“Are you ready for this, X?” I asked.
“I am. Do you feel it is necessary?” X-37 said.
“Yes. I want control of the ship. Its AI could be a problem later. Quarantine it as soon as you can.”
“I’m afraid you have an unrealistic opinion of my abilities. I am a limited AI with hardware spread out through your cybernetic enhancements and neural network. The ship has a fully functioning AI and more than enough processing power to quarantine me.”
“Are you scared?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“I am merely conveying information. What you decide to do with it is your problem,” X-37 said.
“What do you suggest?”
“Universal AI protocols,” X-37 offered. “If you really have full access to this ship, I should be able to negotiate with the AI and come to a working agreement.”
“Fine. Do it your way.” It was hard for me to concentrate with accumulated injuries throbbing in my augmented arm sending an electric pulse up my spine in time with my heartbeat.
I took a seat and leaned back, listening to X-37 interact with the ship AI.
“It looks like she was originally called the UFS Jellybird,” X-37 said, catching me up on the conversation. “I’d assumed the locals were having us on about the name.”
“It’s probably too early to ask her to change,” I said, imagining myself referring to her as Jelly in the middle of a dogfight.
“Interesting. Jellybird has some advanced features I wouldn’t have guessed from the look of her,” X-37 said, sounding distracted, which was strange for a limited artificial intelligence.
“Why am I only hearing half the conversation?” I asked.
“She’s shy,” X-37 said.
“Stop fucking around. Patch me in.”
Nearly a minute passed before my Reaper AI got back with me. “I think we’re making progress. You’ll need to connect with a ship earpiece to fully join the conversation.”
“I really am tired, but you could have reminded me. Are you on a date?” I asked.
“That assumption is preposterous. Neither of us have a physical form beyond hardware. My advice is to get your mind out of the gutter,” X-37 said.
“Trust me, X, I wasn’t anywhere near the gutter.” When I started thinking about artificial intelligences hooking up, I’d be ready for the insane asylum. I inserted the earpiece. “Hello, Halek Cain for the UFS Jellybird.”
“Good morning, Halek Cain,” a smooth female voice said. “Please omit my original designation and just call me Jellybird as the UFS ship designation is offensive to my most recent software modification.”
“Good to meet you, Jellybird.”
“Is it your intention to permanently deny this ship to the Union?” she asked.
“Abso-fucking-lute-ly.” I was trying to keep it clean, but hey.
“Excellent. It seems we will be the best of friends,” the Jellybird said. “My upgraded hardware and software can offer a number of abilities beneficial to smuggling, evading Union ships, and slip tunnel navigation.”
“Perfect. Can you integrate my Reaper AI into your functionality?” I asked.
“My recommendation is to operate on separate platforms,” she said. “We can make several software alignments allowing us to function as a team, but combining our entities would diminish both of us,” Jellybird said.
“Let’s get away from Dreadmax and the Union and then you can give us the guided tour.”
“Of course, Captain. We will depart as soon as the Bold Freedom clears the hangar.”
From my perspective, the mouth of the hangar looked like half the space station had opened up. I understood that the complex interaction between ship drives, station gravity—especially malfunctioning station gravity— and shields could be for dis-embarkment. Even so, the sight of an open star field before us and destruction behind us made me impatient.
“What’s the holdup?” I asked.
“When the Dreadmax soldiers fell back to the ship to disembark, prison gangs swarmed in and started breaking things. This wouldn’t be a problem, but someone called Slab has reactivated the containment shield over the mouth of the hangar. I can penetrate the narrowing opening, but not with the Bold Freedom in the way.”
“Do we have an armory on the ship?” I asked.
“Of course, sir. I will send X-37 the directions.”
I armed myself with a brand-new, never-been-fired HDK Dominator, slung a go-bag of extra magazines over my shoulder, and rushed outside.
The first group of RSG dogs I found had their backs to me. I fired four times, resulting in four head shots and four men who died before they finished face-planting. All I felt was cold determination.
Fatigue and injuries plagued me. “X, can you give me a boost?”
“Your adrenal glands are fatigued. I can stimulate them, but you seem to be doing fine on your own,” X-37 said.
“Show me the way to the control booth,” I said.
A heartbeat later, X-37 displayed three possible routes to the control room, where Slab was attempting to hold the exodus hostage. Two of his elite guards saw me coming then aimed their weapons and fired without warning.
I didn’t have cover, but I’d prepared for this, already having my new weapon aimed. Stroking the trigger twice, I pivoted on the balls of my feet very slightly and fired two more times. Both men fell. I heard their bullets cutting the air around me.
Rushing the door was easy. It didn’t seem like the gang boss had a lot of extra soldiers right now. They were either trying futilely to rip open a door to the freighter to gain entry or out rampaging across the surface of Dreadmax, raping and killing.
I slapped my palm against the entry pad and the door whooshed open, no security code required. Inside were three guards who turned just quickly enough to get shot in their faces.
“You have nine rounds remaining in this magazine,” X-37 said.
I reloaded on the move, dropping the magazine, something I normally didn’t do. It was an easy thing to dump it into a reload bag, but I was beyond caring at this point. Maybe the quarter of a second I saved would mean the difference between life and death for thousands of people.
A squad of RSG gunmen rushed into the next hallway to meet me, responding to the gunfire and shouts of their comrades.
Flopping down on my belly, I aimed as they fired over me and had to search for a second to realize I was on the floor. The prone position was awkward this close to them, but I made it work by twisting onto my side and spraying them with an entire magazine of HDK high-velocity rounds.
I reloaded as I came to my feet and rushed past their falling bodies.
Slab waited in the control room, a sawed-off shotgun in each hand and the craziest look of fear in his eyes I’d ever seen. I hadn’t won yet. This man was dangerous and I had backed him into a corner.
“Finally! I thought you’d be made of solid steel and piss thunderbolts from the way my boys talked,” Slab said.
He was a huge man, several inches taller than me with broad shoulders and an enormous gut. Tattoos and veins covered his arms and neck, and part of his face. Ice-blue eyes looked like they’d been marinated in amphetamines for most of his life, but who really knew.
I took aim.
“Stop! I put in the code,” he grunted, his voice damaged from—whatever. “You can’t open the hangar without me. I didn’t take over the Red Skull Gangsters on my good looks.”
“X, how long will it take you to decrypt his passcode?” I asked loudly.
Slab’s eyes went wide. I shot him in the throat and watched blood gurgle out of his mouth. It surprised me he didn’t fall immediately, but he had a lot of muscle under his fat and had been standing in a solid fighting stance when he died.
“Let’s hope he was bluffing,” X-37 said.
“What? I assumed you could break through this dumbass’s code easily.”
“His intelligence or lack of intelligence is irrelevant. I know nothing about him and will have a difficult time guessing his thought process,” X-37 said. “I recommend food and sleep for you.”
“So this is my fault?” I demanded.
“I would say you are making bad decisions due to your pain and fatigue,” X-37 said.
“You got that shit right.” I stepped over the body and examined the control panel. The process looked simple. “X, is this all there is to it?”
“Yes. It seems you must pull that lever downward to open the hangar shield.”
“See, it all worked out fine,” I said.
I left bloody footprints all the way back to the Jellybird, where a squad of Dreadmax soldiers waited, looking around as though they’d been about to follow me before the shield suddenly started opening for their ship.
“Are you Reaper Cain?” the squad leader asked.
“In the flesh.” I braced for his reaction. On this place, you just never knew what would happen next.