Unstable Prototypes (19 page)

"And?"

"And that is unacceptable! Read your history!
An industry, a civilization, built fresh and new from the ground
up, surges in development, leaving the old guard to wither. A
young, nimble, protean society survives things that would kill a
rigid and established one. I believe in the human race, Karter. I
see what we were, and what we are, and I dream of what we will be.
But that cannot happen in the face of stagnation. So I mean to
force the great minds of this world to adapt. I intend to strip
from them the constant and comfortable technologies that are
restraining us, binding us to the past. I intend to usher in a new
age of innovation and progress by making it necessary, by wiping
out the remnants of the previous age. We will burn technology to
the ground, so that its next glorious evolution can rise from the
ashes."

Karter released a low whistle. "So let me get
this straight. You intend, through acts of violence and threats of
violence, to inflict upon an unwilling populace your personal
ideals."

"I would not use those precise words..."

"Of course you wouldn't, because that is the
precise definition of a terrorist, lady, and you've gotten much too
good at lying to yourself to fall for that little trick. Doesn't
change anything, though. The label still applies. If you're not
comfortable with the terminology you should get out of the
business. Some people can't stand the blood on their hands," he
said, cramming the rest of the energy bar in his mouth and wiping
his hand on his jumpsuit before muttering amid a spray of crumbs,
"Me? I came to terms with that a long time ago. I was a defense
contractor for years. These babies are drenched. That said, make
with the arm, and let's get this devil's workshop a-rollin'."

After a moment more of consideration, Purcell
gave a nod and one of the guards set off down the hallway toward
Engineering to fetch Karter's arm. She then began to pace back
toward her quarters. Halfway down the hallway, Marx returned with
updates.

"Squads are being prepared. Do you have the
coordinates?" he asked.

"Follow," she ordered, leading him to the
data screen in her quarters.

They stepped inside and she opened the secure
attachment containing the coordinates from her benefactor.

"Surveillance to these three places.
Stationed until further notice," she decreed. She then brought up
the list of potential sources of Esche alloy. After a moment of
hesitation, she jabbed one with her finger. "Assault squads
there."

"Weston University... that is on-"

"I am aware of its location, soldier."

"It will be well defended... and there are
civilians."

"I am aware of the risks as well, soldier.
When the assault teams are finalized we will convene and I will
deliver the mission briefing. We will soon have the ordinance
necessary to make such an operation a success, and a successful
operation at that institution will send a clear and definite
message. It is time for us to step out of the shadows."

The soldier recorded the necessary data and
hurried off to deliver the orders. Purcell took a seat and began to
gather information for the coming mission.

#

"Up and at them, my boy," declared Garotte,
waking the sleeping Lex.

The groggy pilot opened his eyes to find that
his associate was now dressed in civilian clothes, a crisp white
dress shirt, dark slacks, and a pair of polished dress shoes. He
was completely clean shaven. The man even had cufflinks on.
Infuriatingly, he had also managed to completely avoid a brush with
gang violence. Glancing back from Garotte to the bed, Lex noted
that at some point during his nap Ma had curled up on top of him.
At the sound of Garotte's voice, her head perked up and she looked
about for a moment, disoriented. After getting her bearings, she
stepped off of Lex and sat attentively at the edge of the bed. Lex
stared at her, trying for a moment to decide how he felt about her
perching on top of him while he slept. He quickly decided to set it
aside for future contemplation.

"What's next?" he yawned.

"I've packed some essentials. Five
concealable weapons, credentials proving my lawful and exclusive
status as a citizen of three different planets, and the access
codes to the bank account containing the payment for my last four
collaborations with Karter. I presume that the account is still
valid?"

Ma tugged her slidepad on the bed forward
with her teeth and swiped a simple gesture.

"Yes," the device played.

"Oh, lovely. She's learned a new trick. Now
might also be a good time to make it clear that I expect to be
reimbursed for any expenditure that comes as a result of this
mission."

"Any expenses you may have will be paid out
of one of Karter's secondary accounts," came the scripted
reply.

"Splendid. Now, I'd stashed a few of Karter's
more useful toys from our past associations here. I'll be bringing
along the more useful of those. I also-"

Suddenly a bleeping alert on both Ma's and
Lex's slidepads interrupted him.

After a glance, Lex sprang from the bed and
snatched his bag from the floor, Ma dropping quickly down after
him.

"Something wrong?" Garotte asked.

"Someone's messing with the SOB!" he
growled.

"Perhaps you should take a few moments to
consider your actions!" Garotte suggested, hurrying after Lex as he
raced down the completely deserted hallway.

"That ship is my livelihood and the nicest
thing I own. My course of action is to find out what is happening
to it and put a stop to it!"

"Lex, as a pair we have spit in the face of a
group of fiercely territorial, albeit hilariously undersized gang
members. Respect and intimidation are forms of currency for them.
One does not survive in an ecosystem such as this by allowing
slights of this sort to stand unanswered."

"I don't care if they are tearing up my ship
to save face or just for the hell of it. That's our only way off of
this rock," Lex declared, sliding to a stop briefly to figure out
which way to turn to find the docking bay that held his ship.

"The relevant point here is that they are
very likely luring you into an ambush," Garotte pointed out.

Lex paused. The delay was enough time for Ma,
who was still struggling with the process of moving about in
reduced gravity, to catch up. The slidepad was still dangling from
her teeth. It tweeted a second warning about unauthorized
access.

"Well we've got to do something!" Lex
urged.

"Indeed. You once asked me what it is that I
do, my boy."

"Yeah, and you skirted the subject."

"Well, given the details of our thus far
brief but notable association, I feel as though I can part with
some of that information now. Whereas your primary skill seems to
be the piloting of spacecraft, my own is the inception and
escalation of instability. I am typically deployed to foster
socio-economic decline, which is achievable through any number of
methodologies. Entropy on demand, so to speak."

"Okay, great, and that helps me how?" Lex
asked.

"Watch and learn," he said, pacing steadily
toward the docking bay. When they reached the door, Garotte turned
to him, pulling out the stolen pistol from the guard on the
transport. "When chaos ensues, and it will, I trust you'll be able
to get the ship up and running quickly? Or at least get us safely
inside?"

"Locked into the cockpit in a few seconds, in
the air in a little under a minute."

"That will suffice. Won't be a moment," he
said, tapping at the door's controls. When they responded, he
grinned, "Unlocked? Definitely an ambush, then. I would suggest you
pick up our little computer. Now would be an inconvenient time for
her lubberly antics."

"Lubberly?" Lex questioned.

Before the linguistic curiosity could be
addressed, Garotte opened the door. The interior of the bay was
utterly filled with people, likely every representative of whatever
gang it was that had assaulted Lex in the showers. Scattered among
them were a few bruised and battered representatives from that very
brawl. Everyone appeared to be armed. Along with the standard issue
stun devices and switchblades that had been present at the last
rumble, there were all sorts of additional bits of weaponry. Most
had a decidedly homemade look to them, overwhelmingly falling under
the umbrella of "sharp/blunt object attached to long stick." Others
were sporting plasma cutters, hydraulic hammers, and various other
pieces of apparatus with the obvious intention of cracking open the
SOB. Judging from the scorch mark and pair of scrapes on the
fuselage, there had already been an attempt. Judging from the man
laying in a twitching heap on the floor, the ridiculously
over-powered security system Karter had installed had made sure
that he was unsuccessful. Standing prominently on a stack of crates
near the edge of the landing pad was Darla. At the sound of the
opening door, all eyes had turned to them with the exact same gaze
as a pack of wolves spotting a wounded deer.

"Take them out!" proclaimed Darla.

The mob of gangly gang members rushed forward
for a few steps before Garotte thrust the pistol skyward, bringing
them to a sudden halt.

"Short memories, I suppose, to go along with
poor hospitality," Garotte remarked, "Please recall that I have a
gun, the misuse of which could have disastrous consequences for us
all. Please note also that my finger is on the trigger, something
which could make any attempts to seize the weapon equally
disastrous."

For a moment, the crowd held its ground. Lex
glanced down to Ma, who had focused her attentions on Darla before
lowering her slidepad to the ground and beginning to work at the
screen.

"It is a bluff. The heavy thinks he can scare
us. He is not foolish enough to fire that weapon in here. He could
kill himself as well."

The riot waiting to happen turned back to
Garotte. With a sigh, he lowered the weapon and fired. His target,
the unfortunate Chong, fell to the ground, screaming as a wound in
his foot sizzled and filled the air with a sickening smell. The
rest of the mob of people pulled back, leaving him to writhe on the
ground in pain.

"Satisfied?" Garotte asked.

"Take them! He cannot kill all of us!" she
ordered.

"Are you so sure?" Garotte interjected before
the mass of humanity could act, "I only ask because your previous
assumption has left your man with a smoking hole in his foot. You
may not have the proper intuition for your position, my dear. New
to the job?"

"Don't listen to-"

"It is just that I last came here some five
years ago and, as I recall, at that time this little organization
was a bit more formidable. At the very least, they weren't taking
orders from a woman."

The statement plucked the crowd like a guitar
string. The faces of men and women alike hardened, the men at the
assault on their masculinity, and the woman at the slight against
their gender.

"You cannot say such-" she began to
object.

"And you weren't getting pushed around by
strangers who had only just arrived. I don't think that this gang
has been very well served by your leadership."

Eyes were slowly turning to Darla as
Garotte's observations began to take root.

"Are you going to stand there while he
insults me? While he insults
us!?
Kill him!" she
sputtered.

Garotte clucked his tongue. "Awfully eager to
send your people against the man with the gun while you linger
safely behind. A coward, on top of all of that? Someone really
ought to do something before this little girl gets someone
killed."

A murmur was starting to roll through the
crowd. Clusters of gangsters began to sift apart, visibly choosing
sides.

"Get ready to board the ship," Garotte
advised quietly.

Lex already had his slidepad out, the
deactivation code for the security entered and ready to submit. Ma
had picked up the slidepad again, the screen reading 'Tap to speak
text aloud.' He slowly leaned down to pick her up, but she stepped
away, shaking her head, eyes locked on Darla. Garotte grinned as
one of the men in the crowd made a sudden move. Whether or not he'd
intended it as the beginning of an attack against Garotte or Darla
didn't matter in the slightest. Like a ping-pong ball dropped into
a bed of loaded mousetraps, it sparked utter anarchy. Part of the
gang wanted to overthrow their leader. Another part wanted to
defend her. Still others just wanted to defend themselves. Weapons
were swinging, people were yelling, and no one had the presence of
mind to keep an eye on the people they had minutes before been
united against.

Lex and Garotte made a mad dash for the ship.
With two powerful strides, Garotte had vaulted to the recessed
steps leading to the cockpit. Lex was less acrobatic, plowing
through the crowd like an escaped rhino and arriving at the
opposite side a moment later. The cockpit popped open and the two
men slipped inside, Lex beginning the power up sequence. A single
voice was shouting over the noise of the crowd.

"You idiots!" Darla cried, two loyal gang
members attempting to hold off three disloyal ones as she spoke,
"Look at them! This is what they wanted! They are getting away! Get
th-"

For the second time, a black and white ball
of fur torpedoed into her, knocking her sprawling onto the landing
pad. Ma recovered quickly and stood on the downed leader's chest.
Darla began to shout for help. The AI turned around, lifted her
tail, and utilized the special talent that the funk had inherited
from the skunk half of the gene pool. Instantly a wide section of
the landing pad was cleared as a horrific stench permeated the air
around her. Darla screamed and clawed at her face, Ma turned around
and flicked her head, slapping the coughing gang leader in the face
with the slidepad. The moment of contact triggered the
text-to-speech.