A Family Affair - part 3
23 Oct 2017Mack Winston
PREVIOUSLY...A family affair - Part 1
A family affair - Part 2
Anaconda "James Prescott Joule"
Artyukhin Ring final approach course, Autahenetsi
I started to involuntarily tense up as the docking slot began to loom large ahead. Traffic was surprisingly heavy, and I was finishing off planning how we'd approach the Gold Syndicate HQ in one of the crewmember seats.
"Your toes are curling, I know they are, I can tell from here," Cal protested from the helm. "You never tense up like this when Horse is flying"
"Horse didn't get the ship stuck in the toast rack two weeks ago," I said, trying to sound casual.
"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"
"Nope"
"It's not like you've ever scraped the docking port on the way in," Cal replied, sarcastically, "or got fined for ramming a Police vessel"
"He rammed us!" I protested.
"Not according to Station Control"
We passed through without incident, and landed.
Now the real business had to start - the visit to Jeb Gold. I had been carefully checking the station layout, and I'd taken care to find out which dock transport terminus was closest. The less time spent out in the open, the better. We would travel armed - not with firearms, too easy to detect - but I would have my father's Imperial Assassin's dagger, a horrific 30cm long bladed weapon designed to not just slip through weapons detection but inflict the most damage onto its unfortunate victim. As I slid it into its holder, I shuddered. The idea of having to use it... Cal seemed to read my mind.
"You think you can use that thing?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know. I don't want to find out"
I put it down the side of my boot. The hard composite holder pressed against my ankle making an uncomfortable reminder of its presence.
"Down the boot?"
"My dad said it's the best way to ensure it avoids the detectors", I replied, " - not as easy to grab in a hurry, but all bets are off if some weapon scan in the dock sees it"
The blade's composition and cryptoident would provide further stealth to the weapon, but I didn't want to take chances.
Cal picked up the bag containing his disassembled crossbow. That'd pass through easily, the trouble would be assembling it in a hurry if we were ambushed.
"You know we're probably worrying too much about this, it may well be a hive of scum and villainy, but seriously, who's going to attack us? If it's Jeb Gold himself, none of this is going to help"
"I just don't have a good feeling about this", I said. The feeling of dread since I had got the invite from Jeb Gold had not abated.
"We can just blow it off"
"No-show? Yeah, but I can't afford to lose this guy's trust"
"Why not? We've had no comeback from 34 Pegasi for over a year, perhaps there is no danger"
"Maybe. But one example, Black Omega, one of the many criminal gangs in Pegasi, now controls 16 systems. They undoubtedly had links with Delaine's lot in Webb Port. If they are persuaded to come after me, I need to know, and quickly. This ain't some guy with a parrot on his shoulder who shouts 'Arrrr!' over the comm link before interdicting you, these people are a government sized criminal gang"
We left the ship. The dock's transport system was in a rough state, and the autotram that had pulled up had seen better days. It had a missing window and was covered in strange angular graffiti. The terminus was in no better shape. We didn't dawdle, and quickly made our way down the crowded, filthy streets towards the Gold Syndicate headquarters. Their dark building towered menacingly over the litter-strewn thoroughfares and engine sounds from the docks bounced from its brutalist, featureless grey walls. The whole environment had been contrived to be menacing, I felt.
The building's entrance was situated on a small, deserted square. The emptiness of the square jarred with the crowdedness of the surrounding streets, and it was clear to see why. Two large gun emplacements, manned by angry looking people in helmets, straddled the entrance. A dozen of hostile eyes turned on us, simultaneously with a random looking array of rifles.
"Stop!" shouted a man's voice. He seemed to be the head of the gunners. "State your business!"
"I have an appointment with Jebediah Gold"
"Wait over there!" the man shouted, pointing towards another adjoining square. "You will be sent for!"
"Welcoming bunch," Cal remarked under his breath.
I grunted in agreement.
We waited for an indeterminable amount of time, while the gunners stared at us balefully from the other side. I leaned against the wall of the adjacent building and went through my pockets, my anxiety rapidly converting itself to boredom. I realised I hadn't used this jacket a while, and after some digging I found: a boiled sweet, sticky and covered in fluff; a half-smoked onionhead joint; and a ten credit counter. I threw the sweet away and looked mournfully at the joint. It didn't smell very good.
"Got a light?" I asked Cal.
"No, sorry"
Well, that's that, I thought, putting the joint and the credit counter back in my jacket pocket and tried to wipe the sticky remnants of the sweet of my fingers.
"Oh shit," Cal said under his breath.
"What?"
"Two autotaxis, no, three - another one - end of the street"
I looked. Two black suited figures left each autotaxi. It appeared to be a uniform of some sort, and all six of them were headed straight towards us - two by two. I looked towards the gunmen guarding the Gold Syndicate building. One of them shrugged.
"Let's get out of here" I said, urgently.
"Where?"
I looked around desperately. A door, maybe twenty metres away up the street to our left.
"Through there!" I hissed, and we ran.
The suited men all picked up their pace as we ran. The street scene passed as a blur as we ran, and I pushed on the door, hoping to Randomius Factoria that the damned thing would open. I crashed through and nearly fell headlong into the space beyond, a warehouse of some sort.
"This way!" Cal ran, pointing to an open door on the other side. I risked a glance over my shoulder. The first suited man had entered. Something in my mind registered that they were gaining on us, despite a seeming lack of effort. We crashed through two more doors in a headlong, panicked rush to escape. My mind was racing to think who the hell these people were. The shrug from Gold's security guard told me it wasn't the Gold Syndicate. I began to wonder if the whole thing was a setup.
"Dead end! This is a dead end!" Cal shouted.
We had ended up in another warehouse. Cargo canisters were stacked up, and a loading robot was quietly working away, shuffling them about.
"There must be a way out, this cargo is being sent to the docks"
"A way out that doesn't involve us being turned into mush by heavy machinery?" Cal replied
"Good point". I looked around desperately, there wasn't much time.
"Up there!" I shouted, "get up there, and get that contraption of yours assembled, I'll...err...hide somewhere?"
"You'll have to draw them out into the open"
"I was afraid you were gonna say that..."
Cal dashed to a metal stairway which went up a couple of levels, taking the stairs two at a time. Immediately I was glad of the inclusion of progenitor cells and performance enhancers in the ship's galley. The door to the warehouse opened, and in came the ... clones? They both looked the same. They both were wearing the same black suit. Quickly, I realised that standing around having an internal debate whether these were clones or not was going to lead to my demise. I looked for somewhere to conceal myself, anywhere. Cal would need time to get in position...
I ran down the long lines of cargo canisters, hopping briefly to retrieve the dagger from its holster in my boot. I looked behind me to see where my pursuers were, and rounded a corner. I didn't see the well built, black suited figure lurking just out of sight.
I slammed into the man, almost knocking him down.
He brushed himself off theatrically. "This won't hurt," he said, carefully, taking hold of me and pushed a device into my chest. There was a loud crack, and suddenly I couldn't move. The dagger dropped to the ground.
I felt weak, then the world disappeared...