The Reaper Diaries: Supernova, Part 7
19 Jan 2016Michael Wolfe
As long as people have kept secrets, there have been other people who made it their business to extract them. Throughout history, there have been a multitude of techniques applied to compel someone to divulge something that they shouldn’t- brutality, kindness, even seduction. Cracking a closed mind is often likened to picking a lock- once you hit upon the correct input, a person opens him or herself to you like a gate.All these approaches still worked in the 34th century, of course- but as with everything else, technology had evolved to render the subtle arts of verbal interrogation unnecessary for those in a hurry. Even in the advanced age we live in, the human brain still keeps its secrets- but certain technological innovations have become very good at cracking them.
You just have to be willing to commit an act that most civilized societies consider an atrocity.
For example, there’s the little-known process called neural shunting. In it, the unfortunate victim is placed (usually forcibly) into a coma, and a cortical implant is inserted into their grey matter. Then, the brain is stimulated in real time in such a way so that it is forced to relive memories from any point that the operator desires, and a massive dose of truth serum is injected, shutting down the parts of the brain that deal with lying. Thus, the questioner is free to ask whatever question they want, along with the luxury of being able to compel the victim into describing in detail whatever memory from their past that might of interest. It’s a terrifyingly efficient way of harvesting information, but it had a few downsides.
Between the chemicals, psychological trauma, and overloaded neural networks suddenly having a lifetime's worth of memories available for instant recall, not many minds survive the process. Even if the person is freed afterwards, they tend to spend the rest of their lives as a high-functioning vegetable. Officially, the procedure is illegal in every major government. Unofficially, it's rumored to be practiced by all of them.
So when some merc of the payroll of Lysenko Labs openly and brazenly promises to subject my partner and myself to such an ordeal, I tend to pay attention.
“Excuse me- did you just say neural shunt?” Even though I was still aching all over, it was nothing compared to the dread in my chest at hearing those words.
The massive captain of the retrieval squad smirked at Nova and me. “That’s right. Lysenko doesn’t fuck around when it comes to retrieving corporate property.”
Nova must also have heard of the infamous procedure, because her eyes had also widened with fear. “How about we just turn over the intel and let bygones be bygones?”
From above us, we heard one of the squad members calling out. “Captain McClutsky! It’s all here! The data disk was loaded into a tablet with everything intact.”
Upon hearing the news, the Lysenko chief looked at me. “And the data core will likely be inside that stolen Lysenko Asp. It’s just a matter of 'convincing' the dock foreman to let us inside.”
Turning to Nova, he sneered: “And Lysenko doesn't want a deal. Just your pretty head with an implant jammed inside.”
Nova and I looked at each other. So much for asking nicely.
Still smirking slightly, he tossed a credit chip to Dan. “We’re done here. Thank you for your assistance.”
Dan pocketed the credits, looked at Nova and myself with a look of regret, and then turned back to the Lysenko captain. “No problem. There’s just one thing.”
An impatient look crossed the merc’s eye. “What is it?”
Monty walked up beside Dan and folded his arms. “You Lysenko boys don’t have any jurisdiction here on Novitski.”
Upon saying that, the door to the nightclub slid shut, the bouncer hitting the button and turning to face the face armed men, his arms folding the same as Monty’s.
A look of fury spread over captain McClutsky’s face. “What do you think you’re doing? Do you have any idea who my employer is?”
Looking around him, he and his men instinctively formed a back-to-back circular formation, their rifles now pointed outward. They veered from targeting Nova and myself, to Dan and Monty, to the door bouncer, and now the crowd of a hundred or so large, imposing men that was staring them down. He signaled to one of his men, and Nova and I were forced down to our knees.
Monty shook his head and gestured around. “I’ve never even heard of your outfit before today. But right now, you and your little boys are in the Bear Den.” He reached under the bar, and produced an old-fashioned riot shotgun- the kind with the barrel drum clip and semi- automatic setting. “And if you don’t want to get mauled, I suggest you leave.”
The captain’s look of rage intensified until the veins on his forehead looked ready to burst. “You and your den of low-life deviants are presuming to give me orders?”
He drew his pistol and pointed it straight at Monty. “Open that door, or we’ll report you to station security and see the lot of you ejected out an airlock!”
A man stepped forward from the crowd. “I’m on station security.”
Another joined him. ”And me.”
“And me.”
A massive, bearded man with a hairy chest appeared from the other side. “I’m a section chief. And you’re not taking these people anywhere.”
Looking at me, he winked.
Monty leveled his shotgun at the small assemblage of Lysenko mercs. Looking up into their faces, I could see that they were all sweating profusely. If push came to shove, they would surely take at least a few from the crowd down- and be swiftly overtaken by the mob of men surrounding them.
I shook my head and tried to get up from being my knees, but one of his men held me down. “They look pretty serious to me, pal. Why don’t we just call it even?”
That must have been the breaking point for the merc leader. In a fit of rage, he raised his pistol and swung it down towards my head. I was barely able to dodge in time, taking the blow on the meat of my shoulder instead. I felt to the floor from the impact.
And all around me, hell broke loose.
I didn’t see anything at first from being doubled over in pain, but I sure heard it: the sound of gunfire from their weapons, the repeated BOOM! of Monty’s shotgun firing into the tight cluster of mercs, the screaming of men, and the sounds of fists connecting to faces. I looked up in time to see Nova spring to her feet and connect with a solid right hook into McClutski’s jaw, toppling him over before he was jolted to the side in a cloud of blood.
Monty and his shotgun, I thought.
Looking around, I struggled to my feet, trying to get a handle on the situation. There was a merc right in front of me, so I hit him as hard as I could, landing a solid hit in the mouth, staggering him back into the arms of one of the club-goers, who promptly put him a choke hold.
I spun around behind me to check on Nova. She was by herself, and all the mercs had been subdued by either Monty and his shotgun, or the brawny nightclub patrons. It was over in- five seconds? Ten?- except that the captain of the mercs wasn’t quite dead, and was weakly raising his pistol towards my partner.
“Nova!”
I charged as fast as I could at my blue-haired partner, tackling her to get her out of McClutsky’s sights. Monty must have seen the captain, too- he swung his shot gun around and fired the same time as the captain. From the corner of my eye, I saw the merc get thrown back by the shotgun blast, actually leaving a skid of blood on the dance floor. At the same time that he got hit, I felt a tap on my lower back below my ribs.
Must be one of the other guys making sure that I’m alright.
I looked down at Nova, her blue hair covering her face. Slowly, she looked up at me, breathing hard with a look of fear in her eye. My body still covering hers, I brushed her hair to the side and tried my best roguish grin.
“You ok?”
She looked down, clothes and skin intact. Looking back up at me, she managed a smile, too. “Yeah.”
Putting her hands on my cheeks, she held our foreheads together. “And thanks.”
It would have the perfect moment for an adrenaline-fueled kiss, but instead Nova's eyes slowly went down, getting wider as her smile disappeared. “Uh, Matt-“
I looked down as well- and for the first time, saw the red bloodstain spreading across the front of my shirt. I gulped, and in that instant the pain hit me. Not the body aches that I had been dealing with since the escape pod- this was sharp, focused, fiery pain, emanating from the place where the captain’s bullet had passed through my body.
Breathing became hard, and I rolled over onto my back. Almost immediately, I saw Nova’s face staring down at me, a look of deep concern in her eyes her hand against my cheek like before.
“Matt?”
Next to her, Dan and Monty and the burly section chief joined Nova, a four-leaf clover of heads looking down at me. I coughed, and felt the hot, liquidy sensation of blood splattering all over my chin and neck.
“Matt!”
Nova’s eyes were now full-on afraid, and was motionless until the section chief grabbed her hand and shoved her away, feeling under my torso where I had first felt the tap. His hand came back covered in blood, and he immediately turned to Dan:
“Where the hell is the medical kit in this place? This guy is goddamn bleeding out!”
Dan immediately disappeared, but all I saw was Nova. Looks of both worry and determination had established themselves on her face.
As my vision darkened and then faded out to black, I swear to God I saw a tear running down Nova’s cheek…
“Oh my God mother, please don’t say you’re crying!”
In front of me, by mother pursed her lips and shook her head, wiping away the two parallel tears on her face. She set down the Pilot’s Federation application that had come in the mail and turned towards me.
“I’m not upset, Matthew. I’m not. This is all so-“She shook her head- “Well- sudden, like when you told us you had enlisted. You’ve only been home for a week.”
My father had been sitting in his leather living room chair, more composed than mother, but every bit as concerned by the news they had just received.
“Son, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t hoped you’d be home for good this time. You’ve been gone for so long, and“- He sighed- “And I had been hoping that you would take advantage of the educational assistance that the navy gives the recently discharged. I know your grades in high school weren’t the best, but between my tenure and your veteran status, you’d be given priority for enrollment at any university in the system.”
I tried my best to smile in understanding. “I know that’s what you want, Dad- but what makes you think I’m college material in the first place?”
Both my parents looked as though they’d been punched in the gut. My mother shook her head. “Matt, you’ve always doubted yourself. Always been without direction. We’re proud of the time you spent in Imperial service, but“ -She looked at Dad- “But now it’s time to pick something. Something safe. Something real. Something you can commit to.”
I picked up the thick package that bore the Pilot’s Federation logo. “What makes you think that this isn’t real? And safe?” I shook my head. “There ain’t no safety this side of the grave!”
Hearing that, my mother frowned. “I know you’ve been away from home for six years, but you’ve returned to us with some Midwestern Federation-sounding accent! Don’t any Imperials serve in the Imperial navy these days?”
I smirked and shook my head. “Lots of old Federation worlds in the Empire, mom. The accents don’t change overnight. I guess I’ve been around some bad influences.”
My father rose from his leather chair and lit his pipe. He took a few careful puffs, and looked me in the eye. “Never mind your new speech patterns, son." He scrutinized me for a moment. "You’ve seriously been saving every paycheck for the last five years to pay for Pilot’s Fed academy?”
I nodded. “I’ll show you my credit balance.”
He shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. I believe you.”
Several uncomfortable moments passed with none of us saying anything, until my parents looked at each other. Frowning, my father shook his head.
“If he’s been saving for five years, he’s serious.”
Mom didn’t say anything, just nodding her head in acceptance. Dad looked over at me, his eyes a curious mixture of pride and concern.
“Well, I’ve always thought of independent pilots as a collection of spoiled millionaire cowboys.” Sighing, he added: “But if our son wants to travel the bubble, I’d have it no other way than him doing so in his own ship, and on his own terms.”
I managed to smile a little and held up the package. “So- you’re ok with it?”
Chuckling and taking a puff from his pipe, he shook his head. “Not in the slightest. If it were up to your mother and me, you would sleep under our roof for another decade, finish your schooling, and live a life as placid as ours.”
Putting his arm on my shoulder, he added: “But it isn’t up to us. You’re a man, and a man has to find his own way.” He managed to smile a little. “Just be careful out there. And remember to visit your folks from time to time.”
Like when they accepted my enlistment in the navy, I felt a familiar lump in my throat. I again embraced both my parents to me, one
hand on my mother’s back, the other still holding the Pilot’s Federation package. It felt good in my hand, like it belonged there. Also, it was warm, and softer than normal shipping material…
I woke up lying on my back, unsure of where I was. Evrything was a dull shade of grey, as were the blankets, and- I looked down- I wasn’t in my clothes any longer. Instead, I was in a long, grey gown, on a narrow bed with rails by the sides of my legs. Looking to my right, I saw the Nova sitting beside me in a chair, head down on the bed, and her hand in mine. Judging from the steady rise and fall of her torso, she was asleep.
I looked to my left, and saw a collection of monitors and mysterious equipment. Several tubes carrying clear liquid were attached to my arm and wrist. Clearly, I was in a hospital of some kind, but how had I gotten here?
The other difference was so obvious that I hadn’t even noticed: for the first time in days, I wasn’t in pain. In front of me at the other end of the room, I saw a door open. From behind it a nurse walked up, a middle-aged, serious-looking woman. She looked at the instruments by the bed, and then at me. “Well, despite the surgeon’s best efforts, it looks like you’re going to live.”
I managed to weakly chuckle. “Best news I’ve gotten all day.”
She frowned and looked down at me. “It’s the only news you’ve gotten all day. You’ve been out since you got here.”
I furrowed my brow. “And when was that?”
“Two days ago.”
Jesus. No wonder Nova’s sleeping.
The nurse started to make notes on a small white medical tablet, and looked up with a trace of skepticism in her eye. “I’m almost afraid to ask for details, but based on your blood results, you’ve had a hell of a week. You tested positive for painkillers, stim drugs, and alcohol.” She shook her head. “And one other thing- have you been in stasis recently?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Would have been six, no- seven days ago.”
She just nodded and frowned again. “I know. You’ve still got traces of different stasis drugs in you, as well. Based on the low levels, you were only under for a short period of time- but the body still has trouble breaking them down. Have you been having more-intense-than-normal dreams?’
I considered, and nodded. “As a matter of fact, I have. Events from my past. It’s like I’m reliving them.”
My nurse sighed and set the tablet back down. “It’s a common side effect. The drugs are meant to keep the brain active even as the body shuts down almost completely. They seem to stimulate the memory centers the most. Normally, a stasis cycle includes an amnesia drug that prevents the person from waking up with the longest dream of their life, but clearly yours wasn’t a normal session. They’ll keep up for another week or so, and then things should return to normal.”
I looked over at Nova, still sleeping. “Thanks for the heads-up, ma’am.”
She went to leave, and turned around. “Just take it easy. Your body hasn’t been getting much actual rest. I know it’s tempting to rely on stims to keep going, but you’re only making it worse by doing so. How are you feeling?”
I lifted the arm with the tubes in it. “Good, thanks to this. Painkillers or regen?”
The nurse set down the tablet and checked the flow of drug. “Painkillers. Novitski hasn’t exactly got the fanciest of medical wards. If that bullet had plowed through any organs on its way through, you’d be in serious trouble.”
Jesus. “Good to know.”
Gesturing towards Nova, she continued. “Get as much sleep as you can. That pretty young thing hasn’t left your side since you got here, and I know better than to ask her to. But right now, you owe your body a rest-debt, and it’s better to pay now than later. I’ll be back in a few hours to check up on you.”
Well, son of a bitch, I thought. I can officially add “shot” to the list of things that have gone wrong with the job.
I looked down at the top of Nova’s head. She seemed like a light sleeper, and if she had slumbered through that entire conversation between the nurse and myself…
She needed the rest, same as you. I closed my eyes and took advantage of the hospital-grade painkillers while I could. I took a deep breath and let sleep overtake me once again…
“So, why is it you want to be a pilot?”
I was sitting in the office of the local Pilot’s Federation representative. In truth, I had had no idea how spread out the organization was. There was a branch at every surface starport, every space station, and every city of note on every planet in the bubble. And while I had only seen the inside of this one office, it was easily one of the nicer ones I had been in. The office had a leather-and-steel look to it, a sort of retro-deco look that reminded me of the lines of a Fer-de Lance. The man sitting on the other side was immaculately dressed in a collarless tan suit, with close-cropped hair and a tight, unsmiling mouth. His hair was grey on the sides, and though he didn’t look very old from his face or mannerisms, his hard eyes hinted that he was no mere office dweller.
Not that he had been inhospitable or cold. My application had taken several months to process, but I had been granted an interview. We were both sipping on a cup of imported coffee, and now that I had been asked why I wanted to be a pilot, all I could do was look down into the black liquid and bashfully grin.
“I’m sure you’ve been told this a thousand times, sir- but I want to get out there. See the ‘verse. Make some credits. Do things I’ve never done. Leave the bubble a better place than I found it.”
God, what a stupid answer. You sound like a wide-eyed fifteen year-old.
He nodded in a non-judgmental answer and took a sip of his coffee. “Well, you’re wrong about me hearing that one a thousand times. It’s more like ten thousand times, from ten thousand starry-eyed youngsters- all wanting to just hop into a ship and live a life of adventure.”
He leaned forward. “Does that about sum it up?”
Gulping, I nodded by head. Under my clothes, I could feel myself starting to sweat.
He reclined back in his chair and set down my application. “The saving grace of your answer was the second part. ‘Make money and do things you’ve never done.’ I know you’ve been saving that naval salary for a while, kid- and while it must seem like a chunk of change to you, it’s piddlin’ compared to what you can make as an independent pilot.”
I must have looked like an eager beaver at hearing that, because he added:
“If you know what you’re doing. And if you make the right deals. And if you’re willing to take risks.”
He fished out a cigar and held it up. “You mind if I smoke?”
I shook my head rapidly. “It’s your office, sir.”
He lit it up with a high-pressure flip-lighter and took a puff. The smoke that filled the air was pungent- but surprisingly not terrible-smelling.
“And as far as leaving the bubble a better place than you found it? Do you have any idea what that means?”
I squirmed a little in my seat. “Delivering supplies to those who need it?”
He looked me square in the eyes. “Killing, kid. Wasting criminals for money. Bypassing any kind of due-process and seeing them and their ships as flying money piñatas. No questions. No mercy. No deals. Strangers, sometimes several a day. A legally-sanctioned mass-murderer. Think you’re up for that?”
Oh dear Christ, what would my parents have to say right now?
“I, uh, I never-“
The Pilot’s Fed rep took out his cigar. “You never thought killing would be part of the gig? Even miners and truck drivers have to open fire to defend themselves if they’re in the game long enough. Think you can squeeze that in among all the do-gooding you’ve got planned?”
I didn’t answer, only nodded.
He opened up my application file. “I’ve got your entire service record and psyche profile here. According to this, you’re lousy at math, lousy at logic puzzles, lousy at anything mechanical, and very lousy at structured schoolwork.” Looking up at me, he added: “All of these things are necessary to complete Pilot’s Fed academy.”
Gulping again, I frowned. “I don't qualify, do I?”
“I didn’t say that. On the other side of the coin, you make decisions quickly- and even if they aren’t always the optimal solution, they’re always a step in the right direction. That's critical. You score high on the empathy scale, which is refreshing since a lot of people I see are damn near sociopaths to begin with. You have a loner personality, which is ideal for reasons I’m sure you understand. You’re also a veteran, and we tend to prefer those.”
He took a puff of his cigar and closed the file. “And most importantly- you can afford the tuition. Not many private citizens can, and the fact that you’ve been saving for five years convinces me that you want in more than anything you could have said.”
Cut to the chase, pal. Am I in, or not?
“So, does that mean…”
He nodded. “You want in, I’ll book you right now. What do you say?”
Holy sweet goddamn. I could hardly believe my ears.
“I’m in. Thank you… so much!”
He grinned, cigar still dangling from his mouth. Shaking my hand, he chuckled. “Thank me when you get your wings and your Sidewinder. It’s still a tough road from here.”
Still euphoric, I swore I could have kissed the man. In fact, I’d have happily kissed a man anyway if it meant getting into Pilot’s Fed academy…
“Even if Matt doesn't swing that way, I’m pretty sure he owes that man a kiss.”
I woke up to the sound of Nova talking to- someone. My eyes still closed, I heard Monty reply.
“Well, I’m sure Gambrelli wouldn’t mind. But you're right. The section chief knows what to do when shit goes down."
I half-opened my eyes and tried my best to smile. "You guys settin’ me up on a date?”
All three of my guests smiled at hearing my voice. I felt Nova’s hand wrap around mine and squeeze.
“There he is!”
Well, at least I’m among friends, I thought.
I looked at Dan and Monty. “Thanks for not letting those guys take us away.”
Dan waved it off. “You really think we’d let some hired corporate goons make off with a friend of ours? Please.”
Monty chimed in: “Besides, we’ve done the same thing for Kyndi two or three times now. It’s pretty much a drill at this point.”
The woman does have a talent for making enemies, I thought. But that’s for her to worry about.
“I owe you big for this, guys. What can I do to make everything even between us?”
Dan held up the credit chip that the captain had tossed him. “Well, I’d say that your lodgings have been paid for already.”
I nodded, and tried my best to remember how everything had gone down back at the Bear Den. “How is everybody else?”
Monty shrugged. “A few bullet grazes for some, cuts and bruises for others. The Lysenko guys are pretty messed up, though. I might have gotten a little carried away there.”
The image of Monty unloading with his shotgun came to mind. “Well, carried away or no, I appreciate it.”
Nova smiled and got up to stretch. “It’s Section Chief Gambrelli who really helped you out. He provided first aid and got you stabilized until we got you in here.”
“Where is he now?”
“At work. He left the moment the medics took over.”
I shook my head. “Nova, can you dig out some credits from my wallet? I want that man’s next dozen drinks to be on me.”
As Nova was handing Dan some money, I looked around. “So, any word as to when I’m out of here? We’ve still got a job to do.”
My partner placed her hands on her hips and looked at me quizzically. “I’d say the job went to hell along with Giles and his T-9, Matt.”
I shrugged. “Well, we’ve at least got some digging to do to see who’s behind this.” Looking at Dan and Monty, I added: “And the sooner we’re out of here, the safer it’ll be for you two.”
Nova shook her head and pointed at my wound. “You aren’t leaving for at least another day. But that’s ok- it just means more time to go through these records and see if there’s anything that can help us.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You really do have a nosy side, don’t you?”
Nova smiled wryly and shrugged, holding up the captain's pistol that she had taken as a souvenir. “When it comes to getting even with people out to kill me? Damn right I do.”
“There you go. Easy now.”
I was slumped over on my hospital bed, Nova helping me into my leather jacket. Naturally, I had opted for early discharge, even though my nurse and the doctors treating me recommended against it. The pain was full-on back now, but I was eager to get the hell off-station.
“Thanks. You ready for a road trip?”
Nova smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”
“Well, the spirit is willing, but the flesh-“
“Is weak?”
I smiled. “-can be stimmed.”
Nova and I exchanged goodbye hugs with Dan and Monty, and made our way to the station hangars. As expected, our new Cobra was waiting for us- refurbished, upgraded, and fitted with massive fuel tanks instead of a cargo hold. It had been a long damn time since either of us had flown a Cobra, but they were a fairly forgiving ship.
Just like riding a bike, I thought.
Neither of us had many possessions with us- most of mine were back on the Hand of Blue, and everything else was floating around in the black, next to the wreckage of my Asp. Most of Nova’s things were back on the Bluebird, powered-down and waiting for her to come back. We only had one duffle bag of new clothes and flightsuits between us- with the data core and tablet packed securely inside it.
We made one last stop, and picked up a laser pistol for myself. Nova had decided that she liked the captain's piece and opted to keep it. Not that we had any intention of using them- but with the way that the job had been going, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared. Nova went full cowgirl and bought a holster to wear like a second belt, while I fastened one around my thigh. It was the least painful way for me to wear a gun.
Getting settled into the Cobra, I was reminded of the last time I had flown one- with Kyndi, on that damn fool quest to save Katie. As I watched Nova go through the pre-flight checks, my thoughts drifted.
I wonder how that little girl and her folks are doing?
At the time, it hadn’t seemed right for Kyndi and I to introduce ourselves to her folks. Instead, she had taken my hand and led me away while Katie and her parents re-united. I looked over at the gun at my side.
Cowboys are supposed to ride off into the sunset, right?
“Well, she’s as good as she’s going to get. Ready for your first Hutton run?”
Nova’s voice jolted me out of my daydream. I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s get this show on the road.”
She grinned as the landing platform elevated itself to the surface of Novitski's cavernous docking bay. “I hope you brought some magazines. This is going to be one long-ass trip.”
