Hard Luck Hank: Screw the Galaxy (5 page)

“Grever. When can you have the stuff?”

It took him a moment to come back to reality.

“Hmm? Oh, um, how about a couple days?”

“I can give you an extra thousand if you can
get it in ten hours,” I said.

He thought about that hard.

“I can try.”

“Alright, I’ll be back then.” I realized I was
talking to him holding the shotgun and pistol while a man moaned in the other
room. I thought it was actually a good image to leave Grever with.

I put the shotgun away and walked outside still
carrying the pistol. I don’t know why I took it, but at least it was some small
payback.

I was thinking of where I had to be next when I
heard someone a block away yell to me in a friendly voice.

“You starting trouble or finishing it, Hank?”
It was Ioshiyn, coming up the sidewalk. He was an enforcer, not sure which boss
he currently worked for. Nice guy.

I looked down at the pistol still in my hand.

“Hey Ioshiyn, you want to buy this?”

“Does it work?”

“Just shot me,” I said, showing my shoulder.

He stared at the hole and the scorch marks,
impressed.

“Is that a Trestler?”

“I think it’s a copy. But looks like the same
design. I figure it’s worth 200. I’ll sell it to you for fifty.”

“Fifty? You sure?” he asked. I handed it to him
and he checked it out. I could see I had a sale. I pulled my tele out with a
smile. He took some time but finally passed the credits to me.

“Enjoy it,” I said, leaving.

“Thanks. Hey, what do you think of things? Is
there really a turf war coming?”

I shrugged and then absently caressed my sore
shoulder.

Ioshiyn nodded darkly as if I had somehow
spoken volumes.

I had to go to the bathroom so I walked to a
nearby restaurant to make use of the facilities. On my way I noticed two smoke
trails high above the city. Had something broken in the station’s latticework?
It wouldn’t be the first time. I just hoped I got a chance to relieve myself
before being sucked into space.

At the restaurant I read the latest edition of
The
News
. Rendrae was stoking the fires with headlines like “What Will You Need
for the Coming Business Disputes.”

I went outside and looked up, but the smoke
trails were gone.

Back in Deadsouth I attempted to patch together
the rest of my drug load. I gave up trying to get the other half all in one go
and just grabbed what I could from individuals.

The prices were higher taking it piecemeal and
I had to deal with a plethora of trembling, bug-eyed dealers, but at least I
was making progress.

I was literally carrying around a knapsack
filled with about fifty pounds of narcotics when I got a tele from Garm.

“Hank, I need you to get here now!” she yelled.

“I’m working,” I said. The drug dealer I was
currently negotiating with took a peek at my tele screen and about
spontaneously combusted when he realized I was speaking to the Adjunct
Overwatch in his apartment.

“This is absolutely serious, Hank. Hurry.” She
cut off and I was left to ponder. Though generally a calm cookie, she could get
overly excited. I figured the gang war had started someplace and I was going to
have to get involved.

It was almost a straight shot north on the
train to the administration buildings of City Hall. After a quick transfer I
was walking into Garm’s unglamorous military headquarters.

City Hall was constructed back in Belvaille’s
early days when the space station had a dignified purpose. The building had
twisting spires and golden frescoes of valiant space pioneers. It was the only
non-rectangular building in the whole city and really stood out.

I got buzzed past the various checkpoints and
noticed all the soldiers were standing alert and looked worried. Must be a big
fight somewhere. Probably full-scale conflict. I sighed.

Carrying my drugs, I was finally waved into
Garm’s office.

“What took you so long?” she asked me angrily
as she closed the door.

Garm had tried to make her office unattractive
in case any officials visited, but there were still a few designer chairs and
luxury items here and there. She just couldn’t help herself.

“What’s going on?” I asked, already knowing the
answer.

“Watch this. It’s from a few hours ago.”

Garm was nervous. Sweating. Something had her
stirred up and that got my attention. She played a video.

“Is that station check-in?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Garm chewed her fingernails absently. I
put my bag down and focused on the video. People and cargo needed to check into
Belvaille like anyplace else. Though we generally didn’t mind what they brought
as long as it wasn’t too bizarre.

“Watch this guy coming up,” Garm said.

A man on the video approached the check. He was
scanned. The scan showed—

“Is,” I began lamely, “that a robot?”

The guard at the checkpoint was confused too.

“Um,” he said. Then he got blasted to pieces.
The robot had revealed some kind of heavy cannon held by or attached to its
arm. An explosion of flame and smoke erupted and the video went dead.

“There are two of them. They flew away into the
city. Some kind of jet packs.”

“Robots?” I asked again.

“We think. We don’t know. But they killed every
single person at that checkpoint. Over twenty people, including three security
personnel.”

“What would Dredel Led be doing here?”

“We don’t know who they are,” Garm said.
“They’re robots and they killed a lot of people. That’s all we got.”

This was just totally unbelievable. I played
back the video. He looked like a normal Colmarian, though that in itself was
somewhat of an oxymoron.

The Dredel Led really were a scary concept, the
bad guys for every work of fiction.

I’m not even sure what our real interaction was
with their empire versus what was just hyperbole. I don’t think Colmarians had
had any contact with them in millennia at least. Colmarian space adjoined
theirs in some areas, but we adjoined just about everyone. And Belvaille was
nowhere near them.

Real information on them was scant. They were
robots. They had really advanced technology. They kept to themselves. Unlike
the other races, you couldn’t say what a Dredel Led looked like. They could
look like anything, right? I mean they were machines. Because of our wars with
them ages ago, certain technology was now forbidden in the Colmarian Confederation.

“I’m hereby deputizing you, Hank,” Garm said.

“Uh, deputization denied,” I countered. “I’m
not the military.”

“How many times did I offer you?”

“I don’t want to be in the military. And what
can I possibly do to help? I can’t fight a flying robot.”

“Hank, I sent word we’ve been attacked. It will
be a week before they even get that message. It will be at least a month before
they can send anyone here. Are you willing to let those things run wild for a
month? There are 100,000 people on this station.”

“A million.”

“What?”

“There’s a million people on Belvaille, right?”
I asked.

Garm looked momentarily confused and annoyed.

“No. Where’d you get that idea? There are just
under 100,000 here. But still, every one of them is in danger. Those things
obviously don’t mind killing people.”

“You’ve got that big gun, can’t you use that?”
I asked.

“That’s an artillery piece, it’s for knocking
down buildings.”

“Then why do you have it?”

“For knocking down buildings! Look, if you can
get one to stand still for thirty minutes while we set it up, we can use it,
otherwise it’s no go.”

“You think my shotgun is going to do anything
to that,” I said, pointing at the video.

“No, but your Ontakian pistol will.”

I stared at Garm, gobsmacked. It never occurred
to me that she believed in it too.

“You’re kidding. I’ve never even fired this
stupid thing,” I said, taking it out of its holster. “It probably hasn’t been
shot in a thousand years. It’s either going to not do anything or blow off my
face.”

“But at least it’s something.”

“You’re not getting it, I’ve never used it. I
don’t know what it is. It’s just a green light. I scare people with it.”

“Well that’s like those robots. Don’t think of
them as children’s stories, sneaking around at night or killing your parents
and living in their skin. They’re just targets like anyone else you’ve fought.”

“No,” I said, disagreeing with her logic. “My
pistol has never killed twenty people in one shot and flown through the sky.
Those Dredel Led are exactly the same as the children’s stories.”

“Just try the pistol. We don’t have any other
ideas.”

“It’s my great-great-great-grandfather’s and
all I have left of my history.”

“Hank, we have to do something.”

I looked down at my pistol and clicked on the
power. There was that reassuring glow. That deep hum.

Garm stood close to me, her firm hand on my
shoulder.

“Hank, this is real. You know me, I don’t care
about a whole lot of things a whole lot. But Dredel Led haven’t been seen in
Colmarian space in…I don’t know how long. This could be a real invasion for all
we know. We’re Colmarians, damn it.”

I hated to admit it, but Garm was right. We all
talked trash about our great society. It was an easy target, what with it
sucking in just about every conceivable way. But I think under all the gruff,
every Colmarian was fiercely nationalistic and ready to cause as much havoc as
possible if it meant protecting our backwards, incompetent system.

“Alright,” I said. “This is probably better
than a gang war, anyways.”

Garm had mobilized her troops. I had never seen
so many soldiers before, not even during the times we had riots. Everyone was
as armed and armored as possible. However, I did not feel very safe as none of
them looked even marginally confident.

I stood back a ways from Garm as she organized this
army and issued orders. She really did know how to get stuff done. What they
were going to do when they ran into a combat robot was anyone’s guess.

“Garm, you need to contact all the bosses. Tell
them what’s up. There’s still a war brewing,” I said to her.

“You do that. They’ll take it a lot better from
you. They’ll think I have ulterior motives.”

“I’ll make some calls,” I said, and left.

Garm hadn’t told me how much info I could or
couldn’t give, but I figured I was going to have to tell the bosses something.

First, I teled Rendrae. I told him everything.
Dredel Led. Twenty dead. He didn’t believe me for quite some time. Enough time
that I began yelling at him, because I had a lot more folks to call and I
couldn’t spend thirty minutes on each one. I enlisted his help to spread the
word. I even told him to go to the check-in and look at the damage. He was an
intrepid enough reporter I knew he would.

The bosses differed. You could see each
individual’s personality shining through. Some were ready to commit their men
to the effort and asked what assistance they could lend. Others were only into
protecting their own interests. Still others simply thought I was lying. That I
was on the take from someone and this was some convoluted master plan.

I didn’t talk too long to that last bunch. But
what I did do was contact some of the guys who worked for them and passed along
the word and told them to do the same. I sent out a broadcast tele to everyone
I knew, which is quite a few people. I explained it as succinctly as possible
and closed with the advice: stay inside, tele if you see anything.

I went back to Garm and saw most of the
soldiers had dispersed. I watched her appreciatively. Takes a special kind of
woman, or anyone for that matter, to be able to switch gears so quickly between
crook and savior.

When she was done, she didn’t even look tired,
and I was tired just having seen her.

“Before we go, Hank, I need you to understand
what we’re facing.”

“Dredel Led,” I said gravely.

“Right, and you’re bulletproof. But look at
this.” She dropped a heavy square of metal at my feet. It was bent and
scorched.

“Do you think your skin is that thick?” she
asked.

“As thick as that metal? No, of course not.”

“Well, that’s what those robots did to it. We
removed that from the side of one of the buildings.”

“What’s your point?” I asked.

“Hank, you need to duck if you see those
things.”

“Duck? Like what do you mean?”

Garm heaved a deep sigh. She then reached for
the gun on her thigh, pulled it out, and aimed it at my face.

“See?” she said, alarmed.

“What?”

“You didn’t even flinch.”

“I know you’re not going to shoot me.”

She put the gun down.

“That doesn’t matter. If I did that to anyone
else, they would at least move out of the way. You’ve spent your whole life not
having to look both ways before crossing the street, or worrying about touching
a plate that’s too hot. I don’t think you know how to protect yourself.”

I blinked a bit, then slowly squatted down.

“Like this? I mean, I’m not sure what you’re
getting at,” I said.

“Hank, if you play this like you’re doing a
street fight with some Belvaille thugs, they’ll shoot you with the”—she pointed
to the injured metal on the ground—“gun that did that. And you’ll die. Then
I’ll have to hire your replacement. And you’re one of the only contractors on
Belvaille who even loosely understands the concept of hygiene.”

“Don’t get mushy. So what do you want me to do
then? I can’t get lightweight all of a sudden.”

“Just, stand behind cover. Peek around
corners.”

“You’re kidding,” I stated.

“They can’t shoot through the walls. We already
know that, Hank. Think like someone who isn’t a mutant for once.”

I frankly didn’t know how I was going to do
this. Carry corners around with me? I mean I was going to have to be in front
of them sometime, right? Or how else would we fight? And couldn’t they just
walk around the corner? Or even fly? I was too slow to be sneaky.

I just nodded my head.

“So when are we leaving?” I asked.

“When we find them, I’m setting up patrols.”

“Do I wait here? I have jobs to do. Paying
jobs.”

She gave me a mean look but relented.

“No, you can go. But if I call you you’d better
get here in five minutes. Not Hank-speed.”

“Fine.”