7


“Reaper Cain, I cannot condone this course of action,” X-37 said.
“All I want to do is find the jackwagon who’s keeping me from launching my ship and throat-punch him. Is that so wrong?” I demanded.
“At least be smart,” X-37 said. “You’re moving too quickly and getting careless.”
“We’re in a spaceport. See those guards? They keep bad shit from happening. What do you want me to do, low crawl down the concourse?” I asked.
A crowd of people surged through one of the intersections, catching me off guard. I stepped into a doorway and watched them run past me. Some were holding wounds.
“X, is there a Union spec ops team on Layton 5?” I asked, backing further into the recess of the doorway.
“Have you decided to listen to my extremely valuable advice?” X-37 asked.
“It’s not a good time to play I told you so,” I said. Judging the flow of people and waiting for the right moment, I slipped out and moved against the tide. It would’ve been better to move with them, but they were going the wrong way. I needed to get to the control node and either bribe somebody or take a hostage. Or whatever.
“I am attempting to monitor the spaceport security feed,” X-37 said. “Yes, it seems there is a Union spec ops team demanding compliance from citizens and support from local security. They have fired less-lethal rounds. Wait, I have an update. There has been a gunfight of some sort. Probably a smuggler caught up in a commotion.”
“How do you know the smugglers aren’t who they came here for?” I asked, adjusting my trench coat to be sure it covered my cybernetic arm, then reaching to the small of my back to check for the small Mark 33 sidearm I had secured there.
“I suggest we assume they’re here for us. If they’re not, then that will be even better,” X-37 replied.
X was right, absolutely right. A Union attack on its own citizens wasn’t unheard of, but it was rare. They didn’t normally go all shit balls in a place like this. Some poor public relations officer was going to be working overtime after this cluster. To justify such a spectacle, they needed a good reason, and a random, low priority exotic pet smuggler wasn’t it.
“I see one of their squads,” I said, slowing my stride. I’d almost been running when I saw eight Union bad-asses clearing room to room—heedless of the local authorities. Walking as naturally as possible, I moved through a wide section of the concourse and turned into a new hallway.
I stopped.
“Why are you stopping here?” X-37 asked. “They will be passing very close to our current hiding place. This is a needless risk.”
“I’m going to follow them just to make sure I know who they are. Maybe even recognize them individually. Call it a gut instinct. It’s been a while but might be worth the risk,” I said.
“My assessment stands. This is foolish and dangerous,” X-37 warned.
“Maybe. But they’re also working their way toward the control node, so I might be able to move in their wake. They’ll watch their six, but I think I can adjust for that,” I said, already getting a feel for the timing of the rear-guards’ scans. Every three or four steps, the men looked back the way they’d come to make sure no one was following them with a weapon.
I blended with the confused travelers. They were headed in almost every direction now, making this easier than I had hoped.
The squad stopped abruptly. The leader gave hand signals that deployed his men in a perimeter. They gave everyone around them a hard look, not quite seeing far enough to spot me, but it was close.
“You see there, X, we learned something valuable. You tell me to run away, and I give you Commander Briggs and Sergeant Crank, two of my least favorite people in the entire Union,” I said, drawing back slightly, confident I had this under control.
My vision flashed white, no static to warn me of the hellish torture that followed, exploding through my brain viciously. The fire that shot down my spine didn’t stop there but extended through my limbs. Parts of my body that I didn’t normally think about ached and I thought my head would burst.
Everything came back to me when my knees hit the concourse, which told me the malfunction had been briefer this time. Unwilling to go all the way to the floor, I lurched sideways and clawed my way to a standing position along one wall.
Static cut through the middle of my vision but didn’t bring me pain, or if it did, I didn’t feel it in comparison to what I’d just endured. Sounds popped and hissed in my hearing implant. X-37 sounded like he was talking underwater.
“Just stop moving, Reaper Cain. You’re lurching around like a drunk and drawing too much attention,” X-37 said. “Try to imagine you’re a sniper or a secret agent behind enemy lines.”
It was good advice. I spread my palms against the wall and leaned into it, taking a deep breath and holding it for a second before releasing it and slowing my heart rate.
One of the Union soldiers looked at me, but something else got his attention. If it had been Briggs or Crank, I’d have been in serious trouble.
Like shot-in-the-face trouble.
“I think we need to find another way to influence the launch control officer,” I said, walking carefully away from the scene. Putting one foot in front of the other took more concentration than was reasonable.
“Are you okay?” X-37 asked.
“I want to die,” I said. Misery loved company. I had known a lot of it. This was orders of magnitude worse than a week of training in the Reaper selection pool.
“But you won’t. It isn’t in your nature to give up,” X-37 said emphatically.
“Please just shut the fuck up and let me walk,” I said as I considered puking but kept moving instead. It felt like someone had a fist in my body and was squeezing my guts like money might come out my ass with enough pressure.
The star port was locked down by the time I made it back to the Jellybird. No amount of strong-arming the locals was going to get me cleared for a regular departure. I’d have to do something stupid if I didn’t want Briggs and his goons to capture me.
“I’m really disappointed in your ability to find me a solution.” I watched the Jellybird to see if there were any Union soldiers around it. Five other ships shared the landing area, each with their own docking clamps.
“You’re going to have to be more specific,” X-37 said. “To which problem are you referring?”
“Let’s start with fixing my eye,” I snapped. “The damn thing nearly got us caught.”
“I’ve been working on a solution, Reaper Cain. Finding someone with the correct skills, tools, and low morals is a challenge as you have clearly seen here and on Gronic. I’ve checked every planet we’ve been to. Perhaps we’ll get lucky on the next world,” X-37 said. “Unless you want to go straight to Roxo III.”
“Hell no. that place isn’t safe,” I muttered, spotting a pair of Union soldiers moving away from the Jellybird. “It looks like Jelly’s identification forgeries held. It could’ve been bad.”
“I have a lot of ships to inspect,” X-37 said. “And their operation isn’t running as smoothly as I imagine they would’ve liked. Layton 5 looks like a perfect example of Union law and order, but apparently, there is a serious smuggling problem. According to what I’m hearing on the security network, there have been three additional armed encounters since we were nearly apprehended.”