Home Planet: Apocalypse (Part 2) (6 page)

BOOK: Home Planet: Apocalypse (Part 2)
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“Err, yeah I noticed. Well done, Laetitia.”

I stood up next to the giant fuel cylinder and looked up at it.

Not the best place to have a gunfight
, I thought.

She turned and walked toward her master, blood dripping from the two bullet holes in her back but with no signs of real damage. Or loss of functionality, anyway.

She helped Reichs up. He dusted himself down without a word of thanks to either of us and with no explanation as to the miraculous bullet-resistant properties of his wife. Then I approached the terminal and saw the results of Reichs’s wild shooting—both functional terminals hard been hit.

“Damn it, the terminals have been hit!” I said as Reichs and Laetitia joined me.

“Do not worry Mr. Luker. Tiro, please respond,” she said, calmly.

“How can I be of assistance, Laetitia?”

As usual, she looked to Reichs for ascent.

“Go ahead beautiful... Take us down so the cop can bail on us,” he said, a smirk growing on his thin lips.

I decided that trying to interpret Reichs’s body language was nigh on impossible.

“Tiro, on my mark, initiate auxiliary thrusters plotting a course to low Earth orbit at a stable altitude of two hundred seventy-five miles. On release of Mr. Luker’s lifepod, immediately increase altitude to a thousand miles, remaining there until further instruction. Mark.”

“Course calculated. Initiating thrusters in five-four-three-two-one. Auxiliary thruster ignition. We are under way. Travel time is approximately two hours and fifteen minutes.”

The distant roar of ignition gave way to a faint, constant rumbling that I felt more than heard.

“Thanks, Laetitia,” I said, looking at the gunshot wounds—one in her abdomen, the other in her chest—these being in addition to the one in her back. None of the three entry wounds had exited the other side—hardly surprising with the tough endo-skeleton beneath the synthetic living tissue. Only body armor would’ve saved a human from the three bullet wounds. But it had made a real mess of her living tissue and the catsuit would definitely need some attention. I’d just play along with Reichs’s crazy pretense that she was human.

“Are you okay?” I said, pointing to the bloodstains. “You took a few rounds for us back there.”

Once again, she said nothing and looked to Reichs for a prompt.

“Well, let me tell you something, peasant—this isn’t the first time my beautiful wife has been in the line of fire for yours truly.”

He turned to her and smirked, revealing his disgusting rotten teeth.

“Why don’t you show Mr. Luker your battle scars, Laetitia?”

She reached around to the zipper on her catsuit and unfastened it down to the waist, before pulling down her top. Working hard to remind myself she was an android, I saw the two latest wounds and the blood between her breasts and all over her abdomen. Using the arms of the catsuit, she wiped away some of the blood, spreading it further but thinner to show her scars. A six-inch knife wound to the left of her navel ran vertically and I counted six circular bullet wounds from her shoulders to her waist. She turned around and there were three more. She’d seen no shortage of action and had had time to heal since. While surveying the scars on her perfectly manufactured form, I recalled what the lead security droid has said minutes before. It had actually named both Reichs and Laetitia as being wanted for something—something that it never got around to saying before she wasted it. This only reinforced my view that both of them had been part of the mutiny—part of the faction that didn’t want to return to Earth to help their fellow humans with the relief effort. Despite my own desire to reach Aura-c, I knew which side I would’ve been on. To violently defy orders and not go back to help ran contrary to everything I believed in.

What if Mom and Nikki had survived the impact, only to starve in the aftermath?

At the very least, it would’ve given me the possibility of going to LA to help them. Assuming there was anything left of L.A. to return to. I needed Reichs and Laetitia, but I wondered why they were being so helpful. Together, they’d be powerful allies on what looked like a harsh planet. I still had some time to try to pry answers from them before I departed.

The zipper noise of Laetitia making herself decent snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Come on peasant, let us go celebrate with a nice can of tuna and some freshly squeezed apple juice.”

How can I resist?
I thought.

7

Reichs, Laetitia and I passed through the lower link tunnel into the Module 7 stores. We got to halfway across the warehouse when Reichs decided to go food shopping with Laetitia in tow. So I said a brief goodbye and continued onwards to the open metal staircase leading to the above-ceiling level. With the reduced gravity, I took the steps four at a time and soon reached the transceiver I’d left in the airlock desuiting room. I crouched down and checked the large cube of electronics—the battery was still dead, meaning the wireless power grid was still down. Carrying the transceiver, I retraced my steps. On reaching the warehouse floor, I heard the happy couple some ways away discussing nothing more interesting than food. Next, my route took me via the lower link tunnel to Module 6 and the launch deck. On entering Module 6, I noticed two things. First, the transceiver and my body doubled in weight due to the full Earth gravity there. Second, a gentle ping and an illuminated display told me the transceiver had started to charge wirelessly. Evidently, the power grid was working here. I lugged the box down the stairwell and to the upper deck of Lifepod 6-1, where it would continue to charge and be in the right place once I departed. That’d be any day soon, hopefully. There was also the advantage of privacy. Something told me that my search for contact on Earth would be best kept as a private endeavor—at least until I knew what I was dealing with. And besides, trying to strike up a conversation with strangers on Earth would be a frustrating exercise with Reichs yammering on.

Five minutes later, I sat outside Reichs’s grubby shelter not wanting to go inside for the smell and general dishevelment. I lay down as I waited, enjoying the peacefulness and the rest.

Just when drowsiness had descended upon me, I heard familiar voices and approaching footsteps.

“Next time we got to take our bags, beautiful,” said Reichs.

I sighed and sat up to see the crazy old man and his gorgeous bloodied android walking across the maintenance bays with their arms full of edible booty. I got up and helped them, mostly to prevent Reichs from calling me a peasant again. I took some items from him and Laetitia.

“Why, thank you so much, peasant,” he said, sarcastically.

“Don’t mention it, my lord,” I said, equally sarcastically.

He really did bring out the worst in me—a shining example of why you should avoid negative people.

We dumped the goods in his disorganized stockpile out back and chose whatever we wanted for sustenance. I picked up a hodgepodge of canned and dried goods—some tinned green beans and kidney beans, some canned beef, a pack of cookies and some juice to wash it all down with.

Laetitia obviously wasn’t eating, so I said, “Hey Reichs, why’s your wife not eating?”

“First, it’s
Mr.
Reichs. My wife’s watching her figure right now and tell you the truth,” he said in a hushed voice, drawing closer. “She never was a big eater.”

“Ah, I see,” I said, humoring him.

When we’d selected our food, a short argument ensued when I insisted eating outside of the dirty shelter. We didn’t agree, so we dined apart.

Fine by me
, I thought, unsure I’d want to see him eat anyhow.

Fifteen minutes later, he came out of the shelter with Laetitia.

“Beautiful, go dispose of Mr. Luker’s trash,” he said.

“It’s okay, I’ll do it,” I said, getting up and tossing it on the garbage pile.

“Suit yourself,” he said before taking out the two cans of beer from behind his back.

“Come on, let’s sit down have a beer. My wife’s a teetotaler, but she’d like to join the boys if you’re all good with that.”

I took the beer and sat down crossed legged. Reichs and Laetitia sat opposite. The beer wasn’t chilled, but it tasted okay—a small miracle considering its age.

Reichs took a swig, spilling half of it from his mouth and onto his beard.

“So what’s your plan from here, cowboy? Catching the last train out of Dodge or staying for some more of our
hospitality
?”

“The first one. Tomorrow or the day after, depending how it goes finding a good landing zone.”

“And by
good
, what’s that mean exactly?”

“People. Civilization. Somewhere with food, shelter, peace. From there, I guess being able to find out the truth about what happened. What happened to my mom and sister? What happened to Earth?”

“Good noble reasons, Mr. Luker. All very cop-like, I’m sure. So what, you’re going to stay there?”

“Not sure … See how it goes I guess.”

“You don’t have dreams of living on the paradise of Aura? Has to be warmer than Earth these days,” he said, belly laughing like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

I gave a tight smile and watched Laetitia’s gaze move to me, her glances neutral, continuing to listen but not speak.

“Don’t see that happening any time soon without a functioning ship. And with only two men to populate Aura, it’s gonna be a little difficult, don’t you think?”

Reichs gave a confused look, then pointed his finger, counting the three of us.

“Well cowboy, unless I’m mistaken, I count
three
; And last time I checked, Laetitia was
definitely
a woman.” He chuckled and said, “Come on, you saw her when she treated you to the view of all them nasty scars!”

I shook my head wearily.

“Okay. Whatever.”

We drank in silence, but it lasted only thirty seconds. Reichs was in a talkative mood.

“Well, you can remain a doubting Thomas, but me? Along with my fine lady, I will get that shuttle working. We’ve got our pumps, we’ve got our hoses and we’ll make it
happen
! First, that launch tube, then that shuttle … or maybe the other way around. Doesn’t matter. Why don’t you wait for the shuttle, cowboy?”

I got the feeling that if they managed to get the shuttle working, it’d be later rather than sooner. There was no way I’d spend a day more than I needed to with this guy and his scarily efficient killing machine.

“It’s a kind offer, but once I locate somewhere suitable on Earth, I need to go there. But hey, if I find somewhere decent to live I’ll let you know.”

“Well, that’s your choice, cowboy. And you’re right, we must stay in touch—you might need me one day.”

Yeah, like a hole in the head
, I thought.

“So what about you two—what are your plans? Stay here and live out your lives alone, amongst the dead?”

“Oh, don’t be so morbid. There are no dead in these parts—got rid of all the bodies a long time ago. Laetitia’s house proud like that, aren’t you honey?”

She said nothing.

He continued, “We have our plans alright.” He tapped his nose with his finger. “
Long-term
plans …” then chortled, spraying some beer from his mouth which landed on the floor beside me.

“So can you tell me more about the mutiny? Where were you at the time?”

“Oh, that’s all ancient history now—best let sleeping dogs lie.”

There was no point pressing him. And no way to force it out of him with his bodyguard there. What did it matter, anyway? I’d be away from them soon enough, ready to start again with whatever was left of Earth. I had to admit, the snowball planet with nothing in the way of city lights held little appeal. But out of the two choices, I guessed I’d choose Earth. Maybe I’d regret it later. Maybe I wouldn’t. I would all depend on what it was like when I got there.

I finished up my beer, which proved surprisingly potent after so long, even discounting the five centuries in stasis.

“Mr. Reichs, Laetitia, I’m gonna excuse myself now and catch some z’s.”

“Sure you don’t want another beer?”

“No, I need some sleep. See you in the morning.”

“Good night, Mr. Luker,” said Laetitia, quite formally.

I nodded and got up, crushing the beer can and tossing it onto the garbage pile. Then I went and found my favorite sleeping shelf. I worried for a few moments about them coming for me in the night. But then I dismissed it. There’d be a hundred and one ways for Laetitia to have taken me out if Reichs had wanted it. Clearly, he didn’t. Was it that he had no reasons to or should I have been looking for the reasons why
not
? I didn’t know and was too tired to think straight. My last thoughts strayed toward fears of Reichs or Laetitia visiting me while I slept. I felt sure androids were adept at hiding their true intentions. Would I be able to put up a fight? Would death come quickly?  Fatigue won out over these lingering notions as I slipped into the world of slumber.

 

***

 

On seeing the gray metal shelf above me, I realized I’d awoken. My fears of a violent end at Laetitia’s hands seemed silly after the recharge of sleep. The last thing I’d seen was Juliet—not an uncommon dream even now. But this was different. Oh, it was the same beautiful face of my love, same voice, same person, but the places in previous dreams had always been familiar—our home, a favorite restaurant, Nikki’s place or the park we used to take walks in on a Sunday afternoon. Juliet had stood outside a hotel—not the one in downtown LA where we’d met—a different one. Somewhere tropical, surrounded by palms and guests in swimwear around a freeform pool. I concentrated hard, trying to recall details before wakefulness snatched them away. Then it came to me. The sign above the hotel behind the pool read
Regency Hawaii
. She was there at a poolside table alone, sipping some kind of cocktail, with her red-framed shades on—the ones she’d bought on a business trip there. That must’ve been 2064, but I’d never been there with her and I didn’t remember her showing me any photos or video. As my sleep inertia dissipated, any further details faded out of my reach. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and started rationalizing the dream. Eventually, I concluded it was just a bunch of known information all strung together into a vision.

That’s the kind of mysterious work the nighttime brain excels at
, I concluded.

I got up, put on the fleece with the gun and flashlight, and hopped off the empty shelf. There were no sounds but for the eerie noises from the ship. I hadn’t been able to hear the auxiliary engines from this far away and I guessed that would’ve been hours ago now. We must’ve exceeded the travel time to low Earth orbit long ago. My watch said 7:15a.m. but I had no idea how long I’d been asleep. Six hours was my guess from how I felt.

I made my way to the stern stairwell, the one nearest Reichs’s shelter and the shuttle elevators and maintenance bays. The route took me on a wide arc, flanking around behind the spares storage shelving to avoid my two friends. I peeked past the last shelf and saw no one across the maintenance bay, behind the shuttle. Jogging to the stairwell door, I slipped inside and found my way to Lifepod 6-1.

The long-range transceiver sat on the floor of the lifepod’s upper deck where I’d left it. I crouched to check the battery status, which read
100%.
I gave a brief smile and picked up the heavy box, moving it to the corridor outside where I went on to extend the long antenna. Excitement grew inside me. We were just two hundred seventy-five miles above Earth with an orbital period of something like ninety minutes and a velocity of about five miles per second. The proximity meant any radio transmissions should now be well within range. The speed of the great
Juno Ark
orbiting its planet of birth meant that transmission sites would flash in and out of range quickly. Before switching on the transceiver, I wondered what the people living below might think if they spotted us. I had no idea of their level of advancement, but somehow doubted it was anything much given the lack of cities and space assets. They might think it’s some kind of alien invasion about to happen. Or maybe they have legends about the
Juno Ark
just as we had legends about the middle ages five centuries before my time. From what I’d seen through the telescope, though, they wouldn’t be seeing anything anytime soon. The global cloud cover seemed many times worse than the year I’d spent in London as a soccer-playing youth—and that’s saying something.

I exhaled and found the power button, then switched on the transceiver, putting it into auto-find mode. It cycled from 30 kHz, rapidly rising through the low frequency range. Within seconds, it stopped at 84 kHz and I heard the frantic, deep voice of a man with what sounded like gunshots in the background.


Otpravit' bol'she muzhchin. Teper'
!
My skoro budet pobezhden, yesli vy ne delayete
!”

There was a pause, then a reply from a higher pitched male voice—perhaps just a boy.


Lider ne imeyet bol'she muzhchin
.
My tozhe napali
.
My teryayem plokho
.
Dva plemena prisoyedinilis' protiv nas
.
My byli predany
!”

The conversation went on, but I had no clue what they were talking about. It sounded Russian, although it might have been Ukrainian or Finnish for all I knew. Languages were never my strong point. Russian was my guess, though, not least because it was—used to be—the biggest country in the world by land area.

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