A Brother's Debt

A Brother’s Debt

By Karl Jones

‘Crack!’ Andrei not only felt his rib break as the beefy fist hammered into his side, he heard it, and his breath exploded out of him in a gasp of pain. The next blow caught him on the side of the chin, rocking his head back, and he tasted blood.

He was no longer sure how long the punishment had been going on for, but he knew it had been a while, he also knew it wouldn’t last much longer. The man hitting him, and the two holding him, were professional thugs; they knew how far they could go with a beating without causing permanent damage. All he could do was endure, and hope he remained conscious until it ended.

“Enough.” Andrei endured another half dozen blows; it could have been more, he wasn’t sure, before the command was given.

The single word was softly spoken; nonetheless it cut through the gasps and moans of pain from Andrei, and the heavy breathing of the man enthusiastically pounding his fists into him. Instantly the beating ended and the thug stepped away from him.

Unexpectedly his arms were released and, his legs unable to support him, Andrei slumped to the cold floor, only just managing to get his hands out in time to stop him smashing his already broken nose on the plascrete. Before he could even think about trying to get to his feet his hair was grabbed and his head pulled back so he was looking up into the face of the man who had ordered his beating. “I am very disappointed in you, Mr Velkin,” he said, a look of irritation on his face as he realised blood had dripped from Andrei’s jaw to stain his shoe.

“I’m sorry, Mr Carboni,” Andrei mumbled, struggling to make his broken jaw work.

“You’re sorry,” Ettore Carboni sighed. “But what good is sorry now, when you have chosen to insult me like this?”

“Insult you? I would never...” Andrei babbled the words, his voice barely audible, let alone understandable.

“But you have. You took the advance I was generous enough to give you when you agreed to work for me to pay off your debt, so you wouldn’t starve, and tried to cheat me with it.”

“Not you! Never you, Mr Carboni! I’d never cheat you. It was the other players, only them. I was just trying to make enough money to pay you back.”

“But you did it in my establishment, with money I gave you. It’s an insult to my reputation and I can’t ignore that. I run a clean place, everyone knows it, and they know what happens if they are caught cheating.

“I make no exceptions.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Carboni,” Andrei sobbed, reaching out a hand, only to be yanked backwards before he could dirty the casino owner’s clothes. “Please, Mr Carboni! I’m sorry; I’ll never do anything like it again.”

“I know you won’t, but it leaves me with a dilemma. We made a deal, which you clearly weren’t willing to stick to, so now I have to find some other way for you to pay me back what you owe me.”

Andrei started to speak. “Quiet, Mr Velkin, I’m thinking.” A fist reinforced Carboni’s words, increasing the damage already done to Andrei’s jaw as he was knocked to the floor, leaving a clump of his hair in the grasp of the man who had been holding him by it. “I suppose there’s always the We’Oxcas, they usually prefer their donors to be in better condition than you, even the dead ones, but they might be able to salvage enough from you for me to get enough of my money back to make it worthwhile.

“If they’re not interested I’m sure the Kargan mines will be, they are always after bodies, and they’re not quite so fussy about what condition they’re in. The only problem with the Kargans is they won’t pay me what you owe; one look will be enough to tell them you won’t survive long enough to work that much off.”

“No! Please!” Like pretty much everyone else who spent any time in that sector of space, Andrei knew of the We’Oxcas, and the Kargans, and knew enough to not want to go to either group.

Going to the mines meant being worked to death. The majority of the systems in the sector sold any prisoners given life sentences to the mines. It was a source of income for the systems, and labour for the mines, since no sane person was willing to volunteer to work them. Even the strongest of men were lucky to survive more than a couple of years in the darkness, though few of those who did live a long life in the mines considered themselves lucky.

Being sold to the We’Oxcas was generally considered a quicker, if no less unpleasant, death. The We’Oxcas bought people for their bodies, selling any part of the human anatomy that could be used to aid another person’s health or recovery. They even bought people for use in medical experiments, and, despite their techniques, were considered the foremost experts throughout known space for healing people when regular medicine failed.

“My brother...”

The thug standing over Andrei made to swing his fist, but was stopped by a gesture from Carboni. “What about your brother, Mr Velkin?” The casino owner inquired. “Please don’t tell me you were about to do something stupid, like threaten retribution.”

“My brother will fix, he’ll make things right.”

“And how will he do that? Does he have the money you owe me?”

“No. I don’t know, but he’ll fix.”

Carboni was silent for a while as he looked down on the man at his feet. “Where is your brother?” he asked finally.

“Coming, he’s coming here,” Andrei gasped, fighting the pain that seemed to emanate from every nerve in his body.

“When, Mr Velkin? I have been very patient with you so far regarding your debt, but there is a limit to my patience. I will not wait forever for my money.”

“Three weeks, four at most. Step will pay, he’ll fix.”

“Very well, you have until your brother arrives. Make sure he remembers his lesson,” Carboni told his men, and with that he walked away.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to wait for his brother?” Andrei heard Carboni’s daughter ask of her father. “Wouldn’t it be better to sell Andrei now, and be done with it?”

“If I sell him now I won’t get anywhere close to what he owes. But if I wait for his brother...” Whatever else Carboni said was cut off by a door that slid closed. It coincided with the first blow of the second part of his beating, which landed with enough force to increase the number of broken ribs that made breathing difficult and painful for him.

Chapter One

Separating from the small group that had disembarked from the Frontier Queen with him, Step took a moment to look around. Spotting a Security Officer, whose uniform and weapon made him stand out from the mass of people milling around, he shouldered his bag and headed in that direction.

“Excuse me.” It was a couple of moments before the Officer turned his attention to the man in front of him. “Can you direct me to the administration offices please?” For a moment Step thought his politely phrased request was going to be ignored.

“Elevators are that way,” the Security Officer pointed off to his left, further along the docking bay, “take one down to level one. When you get there, enter your destination in the information board, it’ll give you a guide.” Having provided directions he turned his attention back to what he had been doing before being disturbed, showing no interest in whether his directions were followed.

Step thanked the man, not that he seemed to hear the words, and started off in the indicated direction. It didn’t take him long to reach the bank of elevators, most of which were already in use, and he stepped into the first one with space for him. There were already a dozen people in the elevator, forcing him to wait as it took them to their destinations before he could ride it all the way down to the first level.

Across from the bank of elevators a large information board lit up the wall, displaying an ever changing series of instructions, advice, warnings and notices for those who were unfamiliar with the station. Crossing to the board he tapped the appropriate icon to bring up a keyboard, and then entered his destination with a request for directions.

In response to his request a section of the board changed to show a schematic of that level, indicating his current position, and his destination.

In addition to the schematic a slot opened at the side of the board and a guide card popped out. He took the palm-sized card and pressed the centre to activate it; he then closed his hand over the small square and waited for the pulse to guide him. The pulse took him straight ahead to the junction, and then it shifted to guide him along the corridor to his right.

The admin offices were located not far from the elevators and it took Step only a little over five minutes to get there.

It wasn’t until he arrived that he realised he hadn’t thought to check what time it was on the station and he was relieved to see that, whatever the time was, it was still early enough for the offices to be open.

Entering through the door that slid open at his approach Step walked over to the enquiries counter. “How may I help you, Sir?” The woman behind the counter, who looked to be of an age with him, asked when he stopped in front of her. Her manner was bored, though she quickly became more alert when she got a look at the man who had interrupted her work.

At six foot one Step was above average height, though only just, and lean, his slim build accentuated by the skin-tight shipsuit he was wearing. “I was notified that my brother, Andrei Velkin, died eight days ago. I’m here to collect his remains and settle his affairs.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the lady said, sounding sincere, which Step was sure wasn’t always the case. “I’ll just find out who is dealing with your brother’s case.” Her fingers danced over the keyboard out of sight behind the counter. “Your name is?”

“Stepanovich Velkin, Step,” he informed her with a small smile, something he hadn’t had occasion to do since being notified of his brother’s death.

The notification from the administration of Hanratty Station had been a standard message, with no details attached to it. It had simply told him Andrei Velkin was dead, and he was receiving the message because he was listed as his next of kin. It had also informed him he should contact the station for details, and to make any necessary arrangements.

Since he was already on his way to Hanratty, responding to a plea for help from his brother, Step hadn’t seen the point in wasting the credits a call to the station would have cost. Especially when the journey from Nas Rygala, where the message caught up with him, to Hanratty would only take a week and the station would wait a month to hear from him before making their own arrangements.

Chapter Two

“Mr Velkin?” Step turned at the voice and found a middle-aged man a few feet away, a man who couldn’t have looked more like a bureaucrat if he’d tried. “I’m Ri Charid; I’ve been assigned to handle your brother’s case. Would you follow me?”