The chill of High Valley combined with falling snow and rising humidity would have been picturesque if Lucius was better dressed, but in his weathered miner's jumpsuit it was downright freezing. Planetary shuttles weren't always maintained as well as space vessels, and that couldn't have been more evident to Lucius as he piloted the small four person air car and bashed the heater in the dash with his fist. It ground for several seconds, sputtered and clicked loudly before it came on to offer a brief burst of hot air before stopping altogether. The thick chill was nipping at his ears, his bald head and rough, calloused fingers. If there was anything he hated it was the cold.
“Next time I'll just steal a proper hopper,” he grumbled as he jerked the stiff throttle lever. Wheeler could plainly see his breath in front of him, the windscreen was starting to fog up again and the right turbine was making an ominous rattling sound as he cleared a line of tall evergreen trees standing out from a low ridge.
Several roughly built sheet steel buildings came into view and he grinned. The entire valley basin was filled with old hulls from small ships, mounds covered with tarpaulins, and hastily built shacks with severely sloped steel roofs. Makeshift hangars for small and medium sized craft, he assumed. There was a larger spot in front of a more permanent looking structure that had been cleared as a landing space.
Without much consideration for the air car's landing gear he descended, touching down hard enough for him to bounce in his seat. As Lucius disembarked a fellow with rheumy, awkwardly bent fingers came out of the large barn. His winter coat and thick clothing looked like it had gone unwashed for decades, his white and grey hair was roughly tied back in a ponytail and his beard was bound up by a small band. “You're Wheeler?” he asked with a thick Asian accent. He must have grown up on an inner or upper core world, Wheeler supposed.
He nodded and closed up his thin insulated jacket. Lucius constantly found himself missing his vacsuit. “Osamu?” he asked.
“Yes. When Gomez told me what you wanted I could not believe.”
“Do you have the mass conversion unit?”
“It is in here,” Osamu said as he turned away. “I have brought some chairs so you may choose where you sit, and I brought what medical supplies I have.”
“I won't need them, don't worry.”
The large barn was host to an old disarmed fighter, a small lifter ship and an interplanetary sports vessel that had seen better days. Right in front of it all was a large device with a wide, rectangular aperture at the front. It was old, but looked like just what Wheeler needed, a mass recycler with a quick burn rate, made to convert heavy materials into energy in the space of milliseconds. There were several chairs of different heights lined up in front of it. “This thing can burn through fifty kilos of hardened metal in less than half a second?” Wheeler asked.
“Yes, it works very quickly,” the other fellow replied reassuringly as he made sure the thick power cables were connected securely to the rear. “You pay me first.”
Lucius pulled a soft bag from his pocket and tossed it to Osamu. “That's enough for the machine and a small working ship.”
His fingers were in the small bag, clumsily turning it inside out and pinching a small green diamond between his fingers. Carefully he dropped it atop a small, beat up hand scanner and nodded. “You are generous but I don't know if you will be able to fly once you use the machine.”
Wheeler sat in one of the higher chairs and adjusted the height. “As long as this thing works as quickly as you say, I'll have no problem. Got something to test it?”
Osamu nodded and picked up two thick, meter long logs and tossed them into the dark aperture of the mass converter. He retrieved the beaten control box attached to a thick cable and pointed out the activator switch. “Press here once, safety is off. Press here twice, big red button, and everything inside is made into energy.”
He followed directions and cringed at the high screech the machine made as the logs disintegrated into fine splinters and disappeared in less than half a second. It was violent but quick.
Every instinct he had told him to get out of there as fast as he could, to leave the barn, the machine and the valley behind but he knew he didn't have any real choice. The receiver in his head had been deactivated, now he just needed to finish removing whatever Vindyne or Regent Galactic had built into him.
He turned the unit off and shifted in his chair, rolling it forward and locking the wheels. The yawning opening accepted his legs all the way up to the middle of his thighs all too easily. His palms were immediately sweaty despite the cold, there was a knot in his stomach and a fear unlike anything he had ever known raging like an inferno in his brain.
Osamu put his hand on the other man's and fixed him with a look of urgent concern. “I cannot let you do this! It is crazy.”
“I have to do this old man, someone put a dangerous device inside my leg bones, just above the knees.”
“You can't remove?” he made a sawing motion with his hand. “While you're asleep?”
“No, if I try to remove it too slowly it'll go off killing me and everyone nearby. Trust me old timer, if there was any other way…” Wheeler said as he pushed the old man's hand away from the control. “Any other way,” he took a deep breath, turned the safety off, pressed the activation button once, began to exhale shakily and pressed it again.
The pain was no surprise, his whole body convulsed as everything below his mid thigh was shredded and converted into energy. He fell to the floor screaming, his head bashed against the base of the mass converter, its humming filled his senses between cries of pain.
The blood was a surprise, there was so much. I should have tied tourniquets. He found himself thinking as the pain lessened a little. He opened his eyes and saw his framework skeleton performing its magic.
Replacement bones appeared, followed by working, moving muscle, sinew, flesh and finally skin. The whole ordeal only took ten seconds, but it was an experience he'd never forget and never wanted to relive. He laughed and slowly came to his feet, looking at the stunned old man. “Could you throw in some new shoes for the freakshow?”
Osamu turned and quickly shuffled off to one of many old trunks lining a section of the sheet metal wall. A couple minutes later he returned with a pair of old work boots and an insulated jumpsuit that was in even worse condition than the one he had arrived in. Lucius was already scanning his new legs with a brand new hand tool. “All gone. Thanks to you Regent Galactic can't set me off whenever they get the urge.”
“Regent Galactic?” the older fellow said in dismay. “You go now, take Intrepid model. Good ship, I just finish rebuilding,” he handed Wheeler the jumpsuit and boots then pointed to the small ship at the front of his barn. It would easily fit through the tall doors.
“You're not going to tell anyone about this, right?” Wheeler said as he took his jacket off and started to pull the jumpsuit on.
“No, no one will hear,” he replied vehemently, waving his hands between them as though warding Wheeler off.
“Good, because I'll know if you spread the word.”
Wheeler settled into the pilot seat of the small, sporty short range interplanetary vessel and entered the code Osamu had given him. The tiny holographic display ran through the code list and then acknowledged him as the new owner. As the reactor started he watched Osamu run to a tall locker and retrieve a small pressure washer. He's really going to clean everything up right away, he'll probably put the mass converter in the back too, out of sight. Old guy's smarter than he looks. I probably won't have to come back and kill him before I leave this rock.
He checked the small, cheaply made communication and organizing unit on his wrist and saw that he was running out of time. “Damn, can't be late to meet Gabriel. No telling what that freak'll do if I'm not there on his schedule.”
With the reactor reading ready, the environmental controls heating the inside of the small, streamlined ship, he slowly lifted off and guided the vessel out through the front of the barn. “Free at last oh baby! Free at last! ” He laughed manically and drummed his feet against the cockpit floorboards. “Time to see what's what and work my way back up from the bottom!”
The flight to Erdon was uneventful until he reached the radius mark, two hundred kilometres away from the neglected port. He transmitted the twenty credit Navnet fee and followed the trajectory assigned to him by the automated system. Coming down below the clouds Lucius could see the excuse for a port he was actually landing in.
Pit mining was common on Lectivus V, and one of the oldest sites had been roughly fortified and turned into Erdon Port. Extending hundreds of meters below the surface, the tapering pit was host to hotels, bars, mooring and landing sites for smaller ships, port stores and zealous traders who paid far too much for small booths and patches of ground along the major walkways.
He guided his ship down to a landing patch outside the yawning pit city only just large enough for it and input his locking code as the engines wound down. “Damn, this ship can't be more than ten years old but the engines have gotta be fifty,” he stood and squeezed between the four seats behind him in the main cabin and opened an access hatch. He was greeted by a mess of cables and small components. Picking a small blackened box with numerous ports sticking out from all sides he chuckled. “Universal converters? There's no way I'm taking this thing into hyperspace,” he stuffed the tangle of cables back into the compartment and made sure nothing had become disconnected. “Good thing I paid for this heap with a stolen diamond, otherwise I'd feel ripped.”
The trip between the landing spot and his destination took him through the winding tunnels leading into the city proper. A true cultivation world, Lectivus V played host to buyers, miners, loggers, prospectors and anyone else who prayed on them or had just been stuck there, like him. Hallways and merchant spaces were just barely fit for use and despite the smell and sight of the open walkways eroding under the constant traffic of millions of beings on foot, being on one of the main paths open to the cold air was a relief.
Avoiding crowds of people trying to get where they were going was an art form and he fit into the crowd all too well. He certainly looked the part, especially in the old, filthy jumpsuit he had taken from the old man, but years of hiding in plain sight while he worked for Intelligence, then captained the Triton gave him the instincts and habits one required when navigating through a press of people. Those memories only served him subconsciously, however. Regent Galactic had built a biocircuit that suppressed concious recollection until he was reactivated.
He'd never forget what he was doing when the reactivation signal reached him. His hands had worn permanent grooves into the excavation scoop controls he had manipulated for over a year while he earned a pathetic wage in an open pit mine. The place was just ninety miles from Erdon and he never wanted to see it again. It was a good thing too, since he shutdown the excavator and
walked off the job the instant he realized he wasn't just some lost miner trapped on Lectivus V.
The place he had planned to meet Gabriel had become a regular haunt for Wheeler over the time he had spent as a miner. Lombardy's was just a rectangular room held up by old metal netting filled with chairs and tables. Down one side was a bar, behind were crates and boxes on their sides so the bottle caps faced the bartender. They were stacked half way to the rough ceiling. The place couldn't afford the power costs for a materializer, so they overcharged for cheap beverages and worse food.
Wheeler looked around, there were twenty three people seated in mismatched chairs. He took a seat on a stool at the bar. “Just gimmie a Fobar and Candorian Lager,” he ordered from the bartender.
The gruff, grey faced woman shook her head as she took a brown meal replacement bar out from under the counter and dropped it in front of Lucius. “No Candarian Gold Lager hon, doubt they'll get any out to us this month,” she said offhandedly.
“You'd think they'd treat the most resource rich world in the sector a little better, considering the markup on an ounce of anything worth taking out of the solar system. I'll just take what you've got on tap.”
“Markup's so high 'cause people are greedy, not on account of how much they pay you diggers,” she finished pouring a tall pint of dark yellow beer and put it down in front of Wheeler as he unwrapped the slim compressed fodder bar. “If you spent half as much on food as you did what you drink you might get some meat on those bones.”
“I'd care if they were my bones. Being RG brand doesn't do much for the self esteem.”
“Did you meet with my friend?”
“Yup, Gomez set me up with the man who had just the right machine. Got rid of that stuff I was holding just fine.”
“Glad to hear it. What kind of junk were you destroyin' that needed a mass converter with so much power anyhow?”
He finished chewing a bite of the dense, gritty meal bar before looking up at her seriously. “Like you too much to let you in on that, Lucy. We're all better of with it gone though, a whole lot better off.”
“Our man of mystery, Lucius Wheeler,” she shook her head as she wiped the crumbs from his short meal off the bar with a damp rag.
“Any news from civilized parts?”
“Sure, galaxy's getting her teeth kicked in. Every civilized world this side of the core is covered in mad bots with minds of their own or the Eden Fleet is ripping the hell out of everything in their way. Regent Galactic is doing their best to pick up the pieces, but…” she shrugged.
“What a life. We're all getting to watch the fourth fall from a safe distance. I haven't met anyone who can afford an AI on this rock and as it turns out it makes all us poor ones the safest bunch in the galaxy. Here's to the meek getting their due.”
“Yup, who knew bein' poor would pay off in the end. Still, don't think this is so bad as it's the fourth fall of man. Galaxy's still turning, sun's still warm, we're still eating.”
“Well, I'm still stuck here, you're still stuck back there, who cares if the galaxy's burning?”
“Could be worse I guess,” Lucy said mildly. She looked up as the door opened to admit a thin, sickly looking man with scraggly long dark hair and a tall woman with angular features. She made her companion look even sicklier in comparison, she was the picture of health in a slightly loose fitting dark blue vacsuit, her long red hair pulled back into a ponytail. After glancing around the fluorescent lit bar room she fixed on Wheeler and smiled. “Don't they look just clean and new, friends of yours?” Lucy asked quietly.
“We'll see,” Wheeler replied as he turned in his seat.
“I see you've made yourself at home,” Gabriel Meunez said as he closed the distance between himself and Lucius.
“Not by choice. Is that the real Gloria, or just another copy like me?”
“I'm the real deal Captain, with a few improvements,” she grinned.
“I don't have anything worth Captaining, just call me Wheeler.”
“So you do remember your First Mate, I'm so glad,” Meunez said, pushing his knotty hair out of his face.
“Yup, there are more holes than whole parts, but I still remember some of the best bits. What's the news? Am I getting off this rock?”
“Perhaps we could discuss this in a more private location?” Gabriel asked quietly.
“Here's fine. If there's anything these slugs overhear that's worth selling they won't be able to find anyone who cares to buy it anyway. Order something, be a good customer.”
Gabriel looked around the room, unsure, while Gloria Parker took a seat beside Wheeler. “What he's having,” she ordered.
“Well, what's the news? I've been here at least a month since you flipped the switch in my head with a hand full of credits and no prospects. I'm tired of being out of the way while you and your new bosses set the worlds on fire.” Wheeler griped as he clinked his pint to Gloria's.
“Your predecessor has been killed by Jacob Valance, he's taken the Triton.” Gabriel Meunez whispered as he took a seat at Wheeler's other side.
“I heard my predecessor, ” Wheeler spat the word, “was set off by someone on your end and the little explosive cocktail you keep behind our kneecaps went critical. What happened? He slag some VP's son by mistake?”
Meunez's surprise and discomfort was plain, he glanced at Lucy, who was walking away from the awkward scene leisurely and then pacing back to Wheeler. “You're far more resourceful than I had anticipated,” he closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. There was activity beneath those closed lids, Wheeler could see the other man's eyes were rolling around in his sockets. “Ah, there it is, you managed to find one of your old Vindyne contacts, Cummings. He works for Regent Galactic now and you offered to trade future information against updates on the Triton.”
Wheeler shook his head slowly. “You're more jacked in than last time I ran into you. Is there anything human left?”
“Questions you don't need the answers to. Don't worry, we'll have someone deal with Cummings.”
“Good, one more debt cleared. Speaking of which, how much is my freedom going to cost me?”
“Oh, you're going to like this,” Gabriel said with a grin. “We need you to put a crimp in the Triton's recruiting efforts. Force them out into the open.”
“You know, considering the size of your back yard, you'd think you'd have bigger ants to squash.”
“The Triton is becoming a very large problem. Other fighting ships have begun recruiting from worlds our vessels haven't reached yet. A few independent Captains are beginning to follow Valance's example.”
“So you want me to inconvenience them to death, I get it. Always the long way 'round with you old Vindyne boys.”
“No, we want you to make joining the Triton crew look dangerous and provoke them into stepping into the spotlight. We have intelligence that suggests that they're about to disappear and that is counter to our purposes.”
“Why don't you just give me a few ships, you've probably got a whole battle group sitting in orbit, and I'll go tear the Triton apart. At worst Valance will get off on a smaller ship and he'll be back to being a minor irritation, at best I'll slag him and most of his crew. Then you won't have to worry about him, period.”
“His fame is reaching high enough that we risk martyring him if he is so directly defeated. There's also a chance that Triton could fit into our plans.”
“Oh come on! You've got the biggest propaganda machine outside of the core, and your corp probably owns what, fifty entertainment studios? If there's one thing you people are good at it's making up your own story. Or, I know; you could grow another Valance and set him up as some kind of mass murderer.”
“Then what use would you be? Make no mistake, you came at great expense and not even the results of our research with you and Valance has repaid that. We're giving you the opportunity to balance the equation. You will go out and do what you have to in order to mitigate the damage Valance is causing, to sour the appeal of the small uprising he is causing.”
“Fine, but I do it my way this time. Give me a decent ship with a well trained crew that will follow orders. Not some collection of janitors and mechanics who've never seen the inside of anything but a bulk transport.”
“Yes, yes. There's a ship earmarked for your use with a well trained crew. You'll be placed on her bridge when you're ready.”
“They let me out as a sign of good faith,” Gloria added with a smirk.
“They don't know me very well, do they?” Wheeler smiled back.
“No, they don't.”
“So, do you believe you can accomplish the goals we've set for you?” Gabriel asked peevishly.
“No problem, as long as I'm free once I've finished making serving on the Triton look like a death sentence.”
“You'll have it in writing,” Gabriel Meunez nodded. He stood and started for the door.
Wheeler looked to Lucy, who was half way down the bar and smiled at her. “I'll be right back to pay my tab,” he reassured.
“Better be,” she warned back.
He and Gloria casually walked outside. There were two squads of Regent Galactic soldiers surrounding Gabriel Meunez. All of them were heavily armed, wore grey and dull green armoured vacsuits. “Kill everyone inside.” Gabriel ordered one of the Captains nonchalantly.
One squad rushed through the doors and began firing. The sounds of screams and combat were barely muffled by the thin transparesteel doors. Wheeler resisted the urge to look and followed Meunez and the squad that guarded them as they made their way back to the armoured personnel shuttle that would take them back to the battle group in orbit.
“We're going to be fast friends this time around Lucius, you'll see.” Gabriel Meunez said with an uncharacteristic smile, it looked like he was trying too hard.
“Oh, best buds,” Wheeler said with a wink at Gloria.