The greatest avalanche begins with the slightest movement of the smallest pebble.
The
replacement designated JOY UNIT 61-182-21 was deliberately entering a
state of deep trouble by disobeying the orders of her guardian.
On
the first night of the flight out from Earth she had been directed by
her guardian to remain in the luxury suite aboard the liner Freyaspace Reliable for the duration of the voyage and to remain naked except the gold bands of her status around her neck, wrists, and ankles.
At the first opportunity she consciously chose to not obey the order.
The
chief bodyguard of the guardian, a Xenophonian mercenary had gone to
sleep. This was contrary to the orders given by his employer. He was
to keep watch on the joy unit and prevent her from leaving the suite.
She took this moment of slackness as an opportunity to escape. She
found and donned her pea green colored transfer suit. She wore the suit
during the transfer from the home of her guardian in the newly rebuilt
city of Chicago to his suite aboard the liner in Earth orbit and it was
all she had to wear at this time. To be safe she put on the full head
cover, which kept her hair in place during free fall conditions and only
showed her face.
She checked her makeup before leaving the
suite. It appeared to be modestly applied. Or that it would appear to
be insufficiently applied by the standards of her trainers and her
guardian.
She silently opened the door to the suite. She slowly
emerged from the suite and saw no one in the corridor of the luxury deck
on the liner. She then closed the door with a gentle click. She
started to move slowly down the corridor. She felt slight more than one
tenth the force of gravity she’d felt on Earth. If her recollection
was correct, the sick bay she saw on the safety tour of the liner that
was required of all the passengers should be two decks down on the
vertically oriented ship.
Perhaps someone on staff could help her there. All she had to do now was to find the stairs down.
As she gained confidence in moving down the corridor a cabin door opened ahead of her.
She stopped. She was now afraid.
A
young man stepped out of the suite. Like her he had blond hair and
blue eyes, but without the high class nose she was designed with. He
was dressed correctly for dinner, in all black, but with an emphasis on
practical comfort over flash in style. His hair was slightly longer
than the military standard, parted on the left, and cut for comfort
instead of the current fashionable youth style. And he stood in the
corridor not as if he were an inexperienced youth but as a very
experienced man.
He didn’t fit in any category of persons she was programmed to identify. And he appeared to be only four years older than her.
The young man looked at her and spoke.
“Hello.”
He said to her with an upper Midwest American accent. Specifically
from Old Minnesota on Earth. With the one word she perceived that his
voice was not of an inexperienced youth of eighteen years but clearly
that of a fully mature and experienced adult.
She was speechless.
“Is there a problem, Miss?” He said.
He
slowly stepped toward her. He walked as if he were completely familiar
with moving in the slightly more than one tenth internal gravity of the
accelerating ship.
She hesitated to answer.
“No.” She replied.
The young man stopped. He looked straight at her eyes and spoke again.
“You have a problem,” he said, “and you wish to solve it yourself?”
She thought for a moment, and then answered.
“Yes,” she said, “I need to go to the sick bay.”
He nodded, and then replied.
“Okay,” he said, “if you’d follow me, please.”
She hesitated, and then spoke again.
“I don’t mean to trouble you.”
The young man quickly responded.
“It’s no trouble at all,” he said, “I own the ship.”
He then looked at her head cover, and spoke again.
“And we’re under acceleration,” he said, “so you don’t need to wear that awful head cover.”
He
stood still, as if he were waiting for her to take it off. As he was
the owner of the ship he would come to know her true status
immediately. There was no point in continuing to wear the cover.
She opened the front under the chin and lifted the cover off of her head. The gold status band on her neck became visible.
He saw the band on her neck, and then spoke.
“You’re a joy unit?”
“Yes.” She replied. “How did you know?”
“You’re wearing the gold slave collar and you’ve more makeup on you than a Hennepin Avenue hooker.”
She had no idea what a Hennepin Avenue hooker was. She pointed to the collar and replied defensively.
“It’s a status band.”
He briefly shook his head and then spoke.
“Status
band is a polite euphemism for a slave collar. But then the word
replacement in present Terran society is a polite euphemism for a
slave. And the word guardian is a polite euphemism for a slave owner.”
His voice then took on a hard edge.
“Which
in a real society is a polite euphemism for a piece of subhuman garbage
fit only for extermination. But that’s only my opinion.”
The young man asked another question.
“Does the collar have a monomolecular filament for cutting off the head by remote control?”
“Yes.” She replied.
She
remembered when an older and used up joy unit which had been returned
to the manufacturer had been brought in to demonstrate the function of
the termination system to the newly hatched units. The creche
supervisor pressed the button, and head, hands, and feet of the
demonstration unit were suddenly severed by the single molecule thread
in each band as they each shrunk to a single point of matter. Blood
sprayed out from the neck, wrists, and ankles of the used up unit.
All
of the newly hatched joy units in the room, including her, screamed and
cried at the sight of the demonstration of the device. She remembered
the event as though it happened yesterday.
The young man nodded. And then he spoke.
“We do have the tools for removing it down in the sick bay, let’s go down there.” He said. “Now.”
As both of them walked down the corridor he asked her a question.
“Were you ever given a proper name?”
“No.” She replied.
“People have proper names.” He said. “You’re a person. That’s another thing we’ll have to work on.”
As
they made their way to the stairs a cabin door opened behind them. The
chief bodyguard stepped out into the corridor. He saw the young man
and the young woman and shouted.
“YOU! STOP!”
The
mercenary began to run down the corridor. But he lacked experience in
moving in a low gravity environment and with his first step arced
upwards into the ceiling.
“Idiot.” Said the young man.
As
the mercenary slowly dropped back to the deck the young man drew a mass
driver pistol from a holster under the left shoulder and carefully
stepped forward to the point of the mercenary’s impact. He solidly
locked the sights of his pistol on the mercenary’s head as he carefully
stepped forward.
The young man shouted at the mercenary with the voice of military experience and authority.
“STAY DOWN! REMAIN ON THE DECK!”
The
mercenary looked up to see what appeared to be a toy pistol aimed
directly at his head. It appeared to be a single unit in dark gray
plastic without a separate slide and frame, or an ejection port for the
expended cartridge. The bore of the pistol appeared to be smaller than
the bore of a standard training weapon. And the authority of the young
man’s voice mattered not at all to the mercenary. What did matter was
that the voice that carried the accent of a citizen of the planet Freya,
the mortal enemies of what remained of the Xenophonian people. He
wasn’t about to surrender to what his own eyes obviously saw as a young
punk with a toy pistol from Freya.
The mercenary pushed himself
off the deck. The young man pulled the trigger of the driver pistol.
The four millimeter projectile, made of depleted uranium with a
stainless steel jacket, made only a supersonic crack in the air before
it struck the mercenary in the center of the forehead, tumbled within
his braincase, and sprayed his blood and brain matter out from the back
of his head. The remains of the mercenary dropped to the deck.
An alarm automatically sounded throughout the ship. And a telephone rang in the young man’s coat pocket.
He pulled it out and answered.
“Yes,
Captain.” He said. “There’s been a deadly force incident on passenger
deck one with one man down. He’s dead. Send up the clean up crew. And
please have the thread cutter kit in sick bay ready to go. I’m
bringing the patient down right now.”
The young man pocketed the phone returned his weapon to the holster.
“Let’s go.” He said.
As the young woman and the young man went down two flights of stairs she asked him a question.
“That was a Xenophonian warrior, how could ... how could you kill him?”
He thought for a moment, and then answered.
“The
Xenophon Mercenary Corporation, what’s left of them, are nothing more
than a band of thugs with the delusion of superhuman superiority.” He
said. “Shooting them is neither an ethical or a technical problem at
all.”
She accepted the answer.
The sick bay was on a crew
quarters deck. There were three women in hospital scrubs and white lab
coats already waiting for them there.
The young man introduced them.
“Miss, this is the ship’s doctor, Doctor Hart, her assistant Nurse Church, and my personal physician, Doctor Adams.”
He then turns to speak to the medical staff.
“This young lady was a sex slave brought aboard by a moron from Earth. We need to cut off the collar and the other bands.”
All three of the women nodded. And then Doctor Adams spoke.
“Evelyn, you need to step back.”
“Right.” He replied as he complied with his own doctor’s request.
Doctor
Adams closed the curtain around the examination table. Evelyn listened
as the staff helped the young lady out of her transfer suit and into a
hospital gown.
When they were finished Doctor Adams opened the curtain.
The
young woman was sitting on the examination table. Doctor Hart placed
the cutting device on the neck band under the right ear.
“Are you ready?” She said to the young woman.
The young woman was shaking. She was clearly in a state of fear when she replied.
“They ... they ... terminated an old unit ... at the facility ... with all five bands ... there was blood everywhere.”
Evelyn responded with a question.
“They murdered a woman to demonstrate the system?”
“Yes.” She replied.
Evelyn nodded and then asked another question.
“You are afraid that the other bands will function when we cut the neck band?”
“Yes.” She said.
“Well,”
said Evelyn, “the worst thing that could happen to you now if that
happens is that we’ll put your hands and feet into deep freeze and place
you in hibernation and then surgically reattach everything when we
return to Freya.”
The young woman stopped shaking.
“It will hurt like Hell, but you’ll live.” He said.
The young woman nodded.
Doctor Hart spoke.
“Are you ready?”
The young woman replied.
“Yes.”
Doctor
Hart nodded and then pressed down on cutting device. The device made a
loud click sound and the collar fell away to her shoulders. The other
bands didn’t react. There was no blood spraying all over the sick bay.
“Well then,” said Evelyn, “monomolecular threads are damned expensive.”
As Doctor Hart was positioning the cutter on the right wrist Nurse Church spoke up.
“This person will need a name.” She said. “We can’t keep on addressing her as ‘hey you.’”
“Of course.” Evelyn replied.
The
cutter clicked again. The wrist band fell away. A tattoo on the inner
side of the right wrist was now in full view. The tattoo was of a
corporate logo and the characters, “JOYUNIT 61-182-21.”
Evelyn recognized the logo. He spoke to the young lady.
“It
appears that you’re a product of the Grande-Sinjoro Corporation.” He
said. “I should send a nice present to one of their future board
meetings.”
“A present?” Said the young lady.
“What did you have in mind?” Asked Doctor Adams.
“A ten kiloton suitcase nuke.” He replied.
Doctor Hart cut off the band on the left wrist.
“I thought ours were rated at twenty kilotons?” She said.
“Whatever.” Said Evelyn. “As long as it works.”
The young woman spoke up.
“What’s a suitcase nuke?”
Evelyn answered.
“It’s a very efficient and a very concealable way to kill a lot of very bad people.”
Doctor Hart had finished positioning the cutter on the left ankle when she spoke.
“The patient does need a proper name.” She said. “‘Jane Doe’ isn’t going to cut it.”
“Jane Doe?” Said the young woman.
Evelyn answered.
“The police would traditionally use that name in their documents for a female victim whose name wasn’t known to them.”
Doctor Hart cut off the left ankle band.
Doctor Adams spoke to the young woman.
“You do strongly resemble Princess Diana.”
“Who?” Said the young woman.
Evelyn answered.
“Diana
Spencer, she was born a bit over three centuries ago. She was named
after a pagan goddess of the hunt. She was a naive young lady who was
used by the British royal family as a walking womb and then dumped.
After the divorce she was killed in a completely senseless ground
traffic accident. I never met her during my first incarnation. And I
was already on Mars when her sole surviving son was elected to be the
second President of the Federation.”
Nurse Church spoke up.
“Someone may have saved a copy of her genome on file.”
Evelyn replied.
“Or,
given the state of ethical degeneration I’ve seen on Earth, it’s
possible that a walking piece of garbage may have desecrated her grave
to obtain a DNA sample.”
Doctor Hart then cut off the band on the right ankle.
“There.” She said. “We’re finished.”
The young woman stood up. Free at last.
She thought for a moment. And then spoke.
“I like the name, Diana.”
Everyone nodded. Evelyn replied.
“Well then, your name is Diana, you now have a proper name.”
Evelyn’s phone rang in the coat pocket.
“Just a moment.” He said. “I need to answer this.”
Evelyn stepped away from the table to answer the phone.
“Yes.” He said.
The voice on the line was the captain of the ship, Deborah Hausa.
“Sir, we have a hostage situation in the main dining room.”
“I’ll be right down.” He replied.
“Yes, sir.” Said Captain Hausa.
He turned to the ladies in the sick bay and spoke.
“We have another emergency. Someone is being really stupid. I’ll be right back.”
The main dining room was two decks down.
Diana asked a question.
“What did he mean when he said someone is being really stupid?”
Doctor Adams answered.
“With Evelyn it means that whoever caused the problem is already dead.”
Diana had another question.
“And he said something about having a first incarnation?”
Doctor Adams answered.
“The
original version of Evelyn Alexander Charon spent most of the last two
centuries in cryogenic stasis. A bit over eight standard years ago we
cloned him. We then thawed out the original person and copied his mind
and memories into the new body. We call it reincarnation by
technological means. It’s similar to the process by which you were
created, but used in an ethically proper fashion.”
Diana had another question.
“What happened to the original Evelyn Alexander Charon?”
Doctor Adams smiled.
“He’s
undergoing a current state of the art aging control treatment.” She
said. “ And unlike his duplicate he’s being a complete grouch about it.”
“May I ask one more question?” Said Diana.
“Yes.” Said Doctor Adams.
“Does Evelyn always come to someone’s rescue?”
Doctor Adams answered directly.
“When he was growing up in his first incarnation he usually played a paladin in Dungeons And Dragons.”
“What’s Dungeons And Dragons?” Diana asked.
On
the dining room deck the second incarnation of Evelyn Alexander Charon
met Captain Hausa in the corridor outside the dining room.
Captain
Deborah Hausa was in her midforties in age and statuesque in build and
one of the rare Freyans who was directly descended from a native
African, her paternal grandfather.
“Situation?” He said.
Captain Hausa looked at the notepad she was holding.
“Douglas
Wolfe, the idiot who brought the sex toy aboard and his three remaining
guards have taken three hostages with table knives in the dining
room.” She replied. “We evacuated the remaining passengers to the
corridor.”
Charon looked up and down the corridor. Formally
dressed passengers were seated on the deck or leaning with their backs
against the walls.
“Any demands yet?” He said.
“He wants his sex toy returned.” Said Captain Hausa. “And he wants to be returned to Earth.”
“Out of the question.” He replied.
Captain Hausa nodded in agreement.
“Yes.” She said.
One of the formally dressed passengers, seated on the deck, shouted to Hausa and Charon.
“Just give him what he wants!” The elderly man said.
Evelyn Charon decided to point his right finger and reply to the old man with the full voice of authority.
“One more word and you won’t receive the standard refund for being a victim in a terrorist action!”
The old man was silenced.
Charon resumed his discussion with Captain Hausa.
“Let’s get the passengers back to their staterooms for now.”
“Yes, sir.” Captain Hausa replied.
She gave to necessary orders to the staff on deck.
“Is there anything else I need to know about this group?”
“Yes, sir,” said Captain Hausa, “the three bodyguards are from the planet Hope.”
“And they’re guarding a slave owner?”
“Yes, sir.” She replied.
Hope,
a world orbiting Procyon, was one of the first worlds outside the Solar
System to be colonized. African-Americans, who generally didn’t fit
into the main stream of Federation society, especially in North America,
were very strongly encouraged to settle there.
“What we have here is a very serious belief check failure.”
“Sir,” said Captain Hausa, “they translated Mein Kampf into their primary dialect.”
“And
the damned thing was bad enough in the original German.” Charon
replied. “But it’s nice to know what psychological buttons to we have
to push.”
Charon looked around. The security team, four members
of the crew who were now armed with optically sighted driver carbines,
wore tactical vests over their normal shipboard uniforms, and wore
tactical helmets, were standing on the deck waiting for their orders.
“Who’s the team leader?”
The nearest woman on the team replied.
“I am, sir.”
“Right,” said Charon, “I want you to place their leader under arrest, use a butt stroke if you have to.”
“Yes, sir!”
He spoke the other team members.
“You
three, from left to right each of you will aim for the heads on each
thug, on my command you will take them out. Do you understand?”
They responded in the affirmative.
“Alright,” he said, “let’s dance.”
Charon slowly entered the dining room followed by the security team.
The
three males from Hope each held an expensively dressed woman with a
table knife at the throat. Their employer was a young male in his
mid-twenties, he had long and absurdly kempt hair and was dressed in the
current youth fashion of Earth.
The employer turned to Charon and shouted.
“Who the fuck are you?”
Charon ignored the obscenity and replied.
“Evelyn Alexander Charon, Chairman of the Board of the Freyaspace Corporation, and you are?”
The three men from Hope became visibly nervous and started looking at each other for support. The employer replied.
“You know who the fuck I am!”
Charon refrained from smiling and replied.
“You apparently lack an understanding of basic courtesy.”
“Fuck that! I want my bitch back and I want to go back to Earth!”
Charon shook his head.
“You
also lack an understanding of basic ethics. A person isn’t property.
And I’m not going to start on the subject of astronautics.”
Wolfe pulled a small device with a visible red button out of a pocket.
“Fuck you!” He shouted. “Give me my bitch back or I’ll kill it!”
“Go ahead.” Said Charon calmly. “Push the button.”
Wolfe smiled as he pressed down on the red button.
“There! Its dead!” He shouted. “What you gonna do now?”
Charon shook his head before calmly replying.
“Did
you even bother to change the battery on the kill switch? We already
cut off the bands. She’s now a free woman with a proper name. And
there’s nothing you or your connections on Earth can do about it.”
Charon now turned his attention to the three men from Hope.
“And you gentlemen, you should be ashamed of yourselves, being employed by a slave owner.”
“What you talkin’ about?” The man in the middle responded. “That cracker bitch don’t mean shit to us!”
“Of course not.” Said Charon. “Humans only mean something to humans.”
The man on the left shouted.
“Who the fuck are you to talk shit to us?”
Now Evelyn Alexander Charon smiled.
“You
should already know who I am.” He said. “I was born eleven minutes
and six seconds after President Kennedy was murdered in Dallas, Texas. I
was present in the United States when I saw that it was time for a
change. I Killed President Hope and his cabinet while the First Lady
screamed in vain. ‘Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name.’”
All
three of the men from Hope suddenly realized that the man deemed to be
the incarnation of Lucifer, who in the history that was taught on Hope
killed their leader and brought down their people centuries ago on
Earth, was now standing before them.
They all released their hostages and began to charge forward towards Charon.
Charon shouted the order.
“Fire!”
All three driver carbines fired as if they were one. All three of the men from Hope fell to the deck at the same time.
The security team leader now moved forward. She spoke to Wolfe.
“Douglas Wolfe, you’re under arrest for the crime of enslavement, this is a capital crime.”
Wolfe shouted.
“Fuck you bitch!”
The
team leader, in accordance to her training, swung the carbine. With
her left hand on the forward grip and her right hand grasping the stock
she forcefully connected the butt of the weapon to Wolfe’s head. He was
knocked to the deck unconscious.
Captain Hausa stepped into the dining room.
She looked at the remains of the men from Hope.
“‘Those who dehumanize others only dehumanize themselves.’” She quoted.
“Well, I thought it was an obvious fact.” He replied.
“And you didn’t mention the time you saved the survivors of the State of Israel?”
“So file a complaint with the poet board.” He replied. “Let’s get this mess cleaned up.”
After
the hostages were taken to the sick bay, the bodies were bagged, the
mess cleaned up in the dining room, and the paperwork filled out, Evelyn
Charon and Captain Hausa held a meeting in her office.
“We’re ready to dump the bodies.” She said.
“I know you don’t like pushing dead mass, but I think we should make the jump to the Nowhere System first.”
“Why?”
“This is going to be a long answer.” He said.
“I’m listening.”
“In
my experience those who believe they are exempt from the law, as with
narcissists like Mister Wolfe, often do so because they have a
connection within the government, or what now passes for a government on
Earth. That connection will now be used against us. And we’ll be the
ones treated as criminals.”
“But we’re in the right.” She said.
“With
narcissists right and wrong are irrelevant. What matters to them, and
only what matters, is that we submit to their will.”
“Just like Islam.” She replied.
“Yes.” He said. “Just like Islam.”
Captain Hausa thought for a moment.
“If
the opposition goes fully Soviet on us,” she said, “they’ll manufacture
evidence to use against us, it won’t matter if we dump the bodies now
or not.”
“I can see that.” He replied. “Let’s dump the bodies then.
“Yes, sir.”
Captain Hausa had another question.
“How does this effect the underground space line?”
“Aversely, I would think.” He replied. “Very adversely.”
On this run alone there were already twelve escaped slaves traveling in secret on the hibernation deck.
“I’m
afraid this incident may cause us to curtail further transport
operations from Earth.” He said. “It’s too bad there aren’t any
independent ship owners who could take up the load.”
Captain Hausa had a thought.
“The
company still has ships in storage from the time of the big lift from
Mars. We could reactivate some of those ships as part of an independent
space line and flag them from another independent planet.”
He looked directly at her.
“Do you think you can pull it off?”
“I know I can.” She said with confidence.
“Please have the proposal in writing before we reach home.”
“Yes, sir.”
Charon had another thought.
“This situation will become much uglier.”
“In what way, sir?”
“Those
who believe themselves to be superior beings hate to held to a valid
moral standard, for example the National Socialists in Germany.” He
said. “ And they violently express their rage not only at those who hold
them to the moral standard, but also those who’re conveniently in
range.”
“Yes.” Said Captain Hausa.
“The people in the
support network on Earth are clearly in danger.” He said. “It’s time
to evacuate the last good people on Earth.”
“We’re not the angels of the Lord, sir.” She said.
“Well, someone has to do the job.” He replied. “God won’t.”
Captain Hausa had another thought.
“Sir, some people at home would say that you we are acting altruistically.”
“And I can’t be a selfish bastard if I can’t live with myself.”
“I don’t remember reading that, sir.” She replied.
“I just thought of it.” He said. “It comes with the job.”
Evelyn Charon had another thing to say.
“There will be a war.” He said. “And I would expect it to be the bloodiest war in human history.”
“We won our own War Of Independence.” She replied.
“We
were lucky. Your grandfather was the smartest and most experienced
general officer alive at the time. And the central government on Earth
wasn’t prepared for a war at that time.” He said. “But we may have to
bring him out of cold storage to fight this war as well.”
Captain Hausa could only nod her head in agreement.
Evelyn
Charon was tired after the meeting but he thought he had to return to
the sick bay. It was there that he found Diana had been cleaned up and
transferred to a normal hospital bed.
Asleep and without the horrid makeup, even in the subdued light of the sick bay, she was angelic in appearance.
Doctor Adams gently stepped up behind him and softly spoke.
“Now what?”
Evelyn softly answered.
“She goes through the healing process and personal growth and lives a proper human life.”
Doctor Adams asked another question.
“Are you prepared to see her go through it?”
Evelyn looked at her. He didn’t have an answer.
Doctor Adams spoke again.
“Are you willing to accept the responsibility?”
“Yes.” He said.
He thought for a moment and then spoke again.
“Now that Alex is up and about he could use a project to keep him tied to the home office.”
“You’re not walking away from this one!” She responded.
“You
know him.” He replied. “As soon as he is healthy enough he’ll be up
to his neck working to solve the problems we’re now stuck with.”
Cheryl Adams shook her head. Evelyn responded.
“Alex made every effort to be a good husband and father.” He said. “He can be one again, and you should marry him.”
Her eyes widened.
“I love you.” She responded.
He answered her.
“I
love you Cheryl, but I can’t, I simply can’t. My first wife, Susan,
and our daughter Alice, were murdered by a Muslim suicide bomber, and
Sonya and I were married after she survived the Second Holocaust. I
can’t expect this incarnation to be any quieter.”
He continued to speak softly.
“I love you, but now there’s a storm coming, I’m not counting on surviving it, and I’m not leaving a widow behind.”
He kissed her on the forehead and spoke softly.
“Goodnight.”
There was nothing else he could do.
It was time to clean up the mess.
The
first part of the process was to remove the biohazard fluids, blood,
brain matter and urine, left on the decks by the dead thugs. This was
followed by the examination for evidence of the staterooms and luggage
of the offenders. This task was left to the security chief of the ship,
Julie Canny.
The three thugs from Hope had clothing that was
flashy and ill fitting. Designed to be worn by those who barely engaged
in any thought. And with the belief that it was effective for
attracting attention from those who didn’t think.
The little
intellectual material found on their notebook computers reflected the
culture of their home world. Full hatred for all races other than their
own. Extreme hatred of the Freyans. Hatred of any form of independent
thought and material success in reality. The entertainment material
was incoherent noise masquerading as music and some very hardcore
pornography.
Their computers and clothing were ejected out the airlock with the mortal remains.
The Xenophonian mercenary was more interesting.
His
personal clothing and other items were plain and practical. His
notebook computer took some effort to crack into. Once the computer was
cracked it was very apparent that in addition to working as the chief
bodyguard of Wolfe, he also intended to perform a reconnaissance on a
Freyan ship on behalf of the Xenophon Mercenary Corporation. Julie
discussed the sections of the ship that were priorities for examination
with the engineer, Mr. Czech. In his opinion the information sought
would be required to carry out a sabotage operation.
The
Xenophonian’s body was placed in cryogenic storage on the hibernation
deck and his computer and personal effects placed in secure storage to
be turned over to Confederation military intelligence.
The
apparel of Douglas Wolfe followed the current youth fashion on Earth.
This meant that he apparently put no thought into the acquisition or the
appearance of it.
The notebook computer was another can worms altogether.
There
were no intellectual text files present apart from an annotated English
language translation of the Koran. The music and video files followed
the current entertainment fashion on Earth
This was no surprise.
The visual pornography files were very graphic and very sadistic in content.
Then Canny opened the file folder labeled DONNER.
If
the images were computer generated then they were very indicative of a
very deep psychological disorder. If the images were real then they
were hard evidence of a series of serious, sadistic, and lethal crimes.
Wolfe also had in his possession a hardbound copy of a work simply titled THE BOOK OF PEACE.
The
computer, book, and Wolfe’s personal effects were placed in secure
storage to be turned over to the Confederation police on Freya.
At
the midpoint of their flight through the Solar System the liner went
into free fall mode for turnover. Although there was a way to continue
acceleration during a turnover the Freyaspace management had concluded
that it was a waste of reaction mass.
Just short of the jump
point the Reliable came almost to a dead stop before the engines were
shut off. The ship was in free fall mode and set to slowly coast through
the location of the jump point in normal space.
Evelyn and Diana
were belted into their observer seats on the command deck. Diana had
wore no makeup and had her hair cut to a practical length and was
wearing slippers and scrubs from the sickbay.
From Evelyn’s view she was stunning.
“So how does the jump drive work?” Diana asked.
“Good
question.” Said Evelyn. “The closest thing I heard to a clear answer
is that we’re taking advantage of a cosmic loophole.”
“In both the literal and metaphorical sense of the word?”
“Yes.” He replied.
In
spite of the manufacturer’s training Diana was showing a great amount
of curiosity and a willingness to learn. But then she did initiate her
escape on her own. Once she had her own access to the ship’s network
she devoured intellectual files as if there were no tomorrow. In any
case this was in Evelyn’s opinion a good sign.
The first officer spoke.
“Captain, all stations report ready for jump.”
Even though she checked the clock herself she followed the established procedure.
“Time to jump?” She asked.
“Two minutes, forty seconds.”
“This is the most boring part.” Evelyn said softly.
The first officer counted off the time to jump at fifteen second intervals. And then began a full count at fifteen seconds.
At five seconds Evelyn spoke to Diana.
“Close your eyes.”
At the moment of jump the universe disappeared...
...and then reappeared.
When Diana recovered from the effects of the jump she spoke.
“What just happened?”
It took ten seconds for Evelyn to answer.
“It’s called jump shock or jump discontinuity.” He said.
“It felt like I didn’t exist?”
“Yes.” He said. “Like reality became unreal for a moment.”
“Why?”
He looked at her.
“I have no idea.” He said. “No one does.”
DX
Cancri was a red dwarf star that was almost twelve light years from
Earth. It only had nine percent of the mass of the Sun. The lesser
effect of the red dwarf’s gravity allowed the points from and to which
ships could jump to be much closer together in space. This had the
practical effect of shortening the travel time and reducing the reaction
mass requirements for crossing the system. In addition to the point to
the Solar System, DX Cancri also had jump points to fifteen other
stars.
The port for the system was on an airless and ice covered
satellite of an gas giant planet. Someone with a sense of humor named
it Nowhere.
On the approach to Nowhere three women were having a discussion in the sick bay.
“You want me to what?” Said Diana.
Doctor Hart replied.
“We need to take your physical measurements so we could go shopping for you on the station.”
“Why can’t I go shopping myself?”
Doctor Adams answered.
“On
this ship you’re a person.” She said. “The station is Federation
territory, where you’re still classed as property. And as an escaped
slave you’re subject to summary execution upon identification.”
“So I can’t go?” Said Diana.
“Correct,” said Doctor Adams, “so we’ll have to go for you.”
“And you’ll have all the fun?” Asked Diana.
Doctor Hart replied.
“Well
no. We can bring up the catalog and you can make your choices here.
We’ll then go aboard the station and pick up the order.”
Doctor Hart brought up a catalog page on her workstation.
“Star-Mart
isn’t the best retailer of women’s clothes in the Known Universe, but
they’re on the Nowhere station, you can do a better job of shopping and
have proper fun when we reach home.”
An announcement was made on the shipboard address system.
“One hour to free fall mode.”
As
Diana was vicariously shopping with the doctors Evelyn was observing
ship’s operations on the command deck. When she found a break in
procedures Captain Hausa walked over to and sat down next to him.
“Boss, we have a problem.” She said.
“What is it?”
“Two agents of the Federation Investigation Service want to talk to you.”
“No.” He responded. “They should know better than to even make that request of someone with a diplomatic passport.”
“I
took the liberty of making an inquiry.” She said. “Their address on
the station is located in the section belonging to the Office of
Replacement Retirement.”
Evelyn nodded.
“That’s such a
lame designation for a murder squad.” He said. “Let’s be safe and
assume the worst case is now in effect. No one who’s not scheduled to
transfer at the station leaves the ship. We top off the reaction mass
tanks and go.”
“Yes, sir.” Said Captain Hausa.
Charon decided to remain on the command deck while the ship was docked at the station.
Diana
had made her way to the command deck while the ship was in the free
fall condition. She wore velcro grip gloves and slippers. She’d learned
to do the Kubrick walk in the weightless condition.
“Sit down and strap in.” Evelyn said.
Diana did so.
“What happened?” She asked.
“The slave murder squad wants a word with me. I said no.”
She stared at him.
“Try to not worry, we’ll top off the tanks and be out of here.”
She nodded.
Charon
continued to sit on the command deck and supervise. Before the top off
procedure was almost complete his personal phone rang.
“Yes Captain?” He said.
“Sir, we have another problem.”
“What is it?”
“The
thugs are stopping the remass procedure and said they’re aiming the
station’s weapons at the ship. They want to speak to you, NOW.”
Charon thought for a moment.
“I’ll meet with them at the passenger airlock. Have the security team ready to repel boarders.”
“Yes, sir.”
Diana spoke.
“What’s happening?”
“The
slave murder squad is being really stupid.” He replied. “They’re
threatening to use force. I’m going to have a nice little chat with
them.”
“I want to be there.” Diana said.
“They want to kill you.”
“I’m responsible for my own life.”
“Yes, you are.” Charon replied. “But I won’t let them take you while I’m alive.”
Diana nodded.
“Let’s go.” He said.
The
security team were setting up at the nearest corridor crossing to the
airlock. They were wearing their zero-g combat overalls, with velcro
patches to allow the wearers to attach themselves to the deck or those
sections of wall and ceiling that were also covered with velcro. They
also had two squad support weapons. They were the four millimeter mass
driver technology replacement for the general purpose machine gun. The
gunners had locked the five hundred round ammunition cassettes in place.
The bipods were set into slots in the walls for operation in the free
fall environment. To civilian eyes the slots appeared to be solely
decorative. The optical sights on the weapons were at the single red
dot setting for zero-g.
The two other team members carried what
appeared to be telescopes with bipods, pistol grips, and rifle stocks.
There were power cords for the laser weapons running to packs on each
crew members back.
All members of the security team were using
the corners of the entry corridor to mask their bodies from view from
the airlock. With only the head, arms, and shoulders being visible.
When the security team was ready the leader spoke.
“We’re ready.” Said Julie.
Attached
to the deck with their velcro shoes just three meters short of the
airlock were Evelyn Charon, Captain Hausa, and Diana.
“Good.” Said Evelyn.
He turned to the Captain.
“You don’t have to be here.”
“I’m the captain. I have to be here.” She replied. “And I wouldn’t miss the work of a master.”
“I wouldn’t quite put it that way.” He replied.
He turned to Diana.
“You don’t have to be here.” He said.
“I’m not leaving your side.
He looked straight ahead.
“Right
then. Remember, fear is an emotion, fear is the negation of thought, I
will pass by the state of fear to the state of reason.” He said.
Charon placed his hands on his hips and issued the order.
“Open the airlock.”
The door to the Nowhere Station slid open.
On
the far side of the airlock, still within the station was a black clad
group of eight men. Each of them were armed with the nine millimeter
ACRS. The shortened version of the last generation of chemically fueled
assault weapons issued by the Federation armed forces. Their feet were
attached to the deck with velcro slippers over their combat boots.
Morons.
Charon thought. The first man to fire a round would be propelled
backwards. And he would knock back everyone behind him in a free fall
domino effect.
Which would be absurd if they weren’t deployed to do it for real.
Beyond
the would-be storm troopers were two men, an older African-American and
a younger Caucasian with an appalling boy band hair style. They wore
suits and ties. Stationed on a space station they should’ve already
known that neckties and the weightless condition didn’t mix.
They had to be the gentlemen from the Office of Replacement Retirement.
Charon spoke first.
“Gentlemen, I’m Evelyn Alexander Charon, you can step forward now to talk, I won’t bite.”
The older of the two responded.
“Mister Charon, we require your presence in our office.”
“Nonsense.” Charon replied. “Your authority ends at the airlock door, and I won’t step into it.”
The two men were dumbfounded. They looked at each other in confusion.
Charon spoke again.
“You
should step up so we could have a proper conversation. And you can send
the goon squad home. They wouldn’t last ten seconds in action under
these conditions.”
In Charon’s opinion the goons wouldn’t last
two seconds in combat and they would have left an awful mess, with blood
sprayed literally all over the place, in the weightless conditions.
The
black suited members of the tactical team were staring at the shipboard
security team and their weapons properly emplaced for zero-g combat.
They wanted to go home. Now.
The lead agent could also see the situation for what it was. He decided there was nothing to gained by dying.
He spoke.
“Team leader!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Return to base!”
“Yes, sir!”
The
tactical team leader raised the muzzle of his weapon away from the
Freyans. The remainder of the team did so as well. They moved clumsily
back to the spin section of the station.
The shipboard security team shifted the aim of their weapons to the two agents.
“Now.” Said Charon. “Let’s have a civilized conversation.”
The two agents stepped forward with their grip shoes on the deck. Charon asked a question.
“Why are you interfering with the operation of this ship?”
The lead agent spoke.
“We
have information that four of your passengers are dead, one has been
placed under arrest and is in hibernation, and that you’re giving
sanctuary to a replacement.”
Charon answered with the full voice of moral authority.
“This
vessel is registered under the flag of the Ursa Major Confederation. Douglas Wolfe committed a capital crime and is under arrest. His four
employees were killed while assaulting myself and four other passengers
on this ship. And Diana is a person, not a piece of property.”
“And does this alleged person have a surname?”
Evelyn quickly answered.
“Charon.” He said. “Diana Charon.”
Evelyn shifted his right hand towards Diana. She placed her left hand in his and stepped towards him.
“Mister Charon, why are you defying the law?”
“What law?”
“You are stealing a replacement from the rightful owner and holding him captive.”
Charon answered. Firmly.
“The
true code of law is based on the individual right to live, this isn’t
only the right to physically exist but also the right to be in complete
control of one’s own life. What you’re doing is simply a complete denial
of that right. What I’m doing is a complete defense of that right.”
Evelyn then voiced a personal opinion.
“And
someone who claims ownership of another person is nothing more than a
predatory animal, to be identified and dealt with as such.”
Charon then had one more thing to say.
“Does your mother know that you murder slaves?”
The African-American senior agent responded sharply.
“Leave my mother out of this!” He said. “And we don’t commit acts of murder! We retire replacements!”
Charon shook his head.
“Really?
Couldn’t you come up with a better euphemism? The term ‘retirement’
was lame when Ridley Scott used it in the original version of Blade
Runner.”
“Oh, I forgot.” Said Charon. “A euphemism requires original thought.”
“Mister
Charon?” Said the senior agent. “Why are you wasting our time? Just
hand over the replacement and release the owner to us and you can go.”
“And be an accessory to murder?” Said Charon as he shook his head. “That’s out of the question.”
The senior agent desperately attempted another tack to obtain his goal. He spoke to Captain Hausa.
“Sister,”
he said, “you can feel that he’s wrong, for the sake of yourself, your
ship and the people on it, just comply with the law.”
Captain Hausa shook her head and replied with authority.
“You have no law.” She said. “And to comply with your demands would be irrational.”
The junior agent interjected.
“Reason makes you white!”
Captain Hausa replied firmly.
“Is that so? Reason is what makes us human.”
Diana spoke up.
“I would suggest that you quit before you die of embarrassment, but it appears that you’re incapable of it.”
Evelyn Charon cracked a smile.
“Gentlemen, give up while you still can.” He said.
The senior agent was exasperated. He’d reached his limit.
“Who are you? Who are you to speak to us that way?”
“Simply a man.” He replied. “I did say my name was Evelyn Alexander Charon.”
The junior agent shouted.
“Which one? Second , third, or forth?”
Charon responded.
“I
was born on November Twenty Second, Nineteen Sixty Three, in Dallas,
Texas. With all the bullets flying around my parents thought it would
be a good idea to move to Minnesota. I enlisted in the United States
Army on March Tenth, Nineteen Eighty Two. I was wounded in a friendly
fire incident during Operation Desert Storm along with my company
commander, Captain John Andrew March. I worked for him as he served as
the Governor of the State of Minnesota, the last President of the United
States, and the first President of the Federation.”
Both agents were stunned.
“That’s impossible.” Said the eldest. “You can’t be him. You can’t be the destroyer. You’re too young.”
“We call it reincarnation by technological means.” Charon replied. “And it’s a perfectly legal act on Freya.”
“You’re a replacement!” Shouted the youngest agent.
Charon looked straight at the youngest agent and replied directly.
“And
what are you going to do?” He said. “Kill me? Kill Diana? Even if
you could kill us there will be Hell to pay, and my next incarnation
will be there to collect.”
Both agents were silent. Charon continued to speak.
“Xenophonian
mercenaries murdered three members of my family during the War Of
Independence. We responded by striking the planet Xenophon with ultra
high yield cobalt cased thermonuclear weapons. Nothing lives there
now. Not even mutants hunting each other for food. Your actions aren’t
enforcing any law that we could objectively see as being valid. And
there’s no place in the known universe that you’ll find sanctuary.”
Both agents turned pale.
“What are we to do?” Asked the senior agent.
The answer was simple.
“Do no further harm.” Said Evelyn.
The Reliable topped off her reaction mass tanks and departed from Nowhere Station with no further interference.
The first moment they had alone Evelyn and Diana talked.
“So we’re married?” She said.
“Apart from some paperwork being filled out, yes.”
“And why didn’t you say so earlier?”
“You’re
a victim of one of the worst crimes that can be committed. I wanted
you to make your own decision on your own. That idiot forced my hand.”
“So what do we do now?”
“We live.”
Evelyn and Diana kissed.
The transit to the jump point was uneventful.
The
next world on the route was Vance. It was a habitable satellite of a
gas giant planet of another red dwarf star. It was discovered by John
Vance, an Australian explorer employed by the Freya Project. It had a
seventy percent gravitational pull and an atmospheric pressure at the
surface similar to the city of Denver on Earth. This world allowed
people born in the habitants of Mars to acclimate to higher gravity and
an open sky.
And because some of the original Martians had
remained on this world it would become a member of Freya Pact during the
War Of Independence and later join the Ursa Major Confederation.
With
no plans to land on the planetary surface Diana and Cheryl went
shopping on the Vance orbital station. They entered the local branch of
Star-Mart in the spin section of Vance Station.
As they were locating items found in the catalog the store manager confronted them.
He pointed to Diana and shouted with a brusque tone of voice.
“YOU! Get out of here!”
Cheryl intervened.
“Is there a problem?”
“Yes!” Said the manager loudly. “We don’t serve replacements here!”
The corporate logo and serial number tattoo on Diana’s forearm was still visible.
Cheryl replied.
“My friend is a person and you’re in the Ursa Major Confederation.”
“Doesn’t matter, bitch!” The manager replied. “Corporate policy forbids transactions with escaped replacements.”
“You’re just following orders?”
“Yes!” The manager replied. “Now get out of here before I call the cops!”
Cheryl replied with a level voice.
“Go ahead, call the police.”
The
first pair of station police officers that arrived said they were under
orders to wait for their supervisors. They rejected the demands by the
store manager to eject the two women.
The next to arrive were the manager of the station, the chief of the station police, Captain Hausa, and Evelyn Charon.
As Evelyn took charge of the situation the store manager shouted.
“Who the Hell are you, punk?”
“Evelyn Charon, Chairman of the Board of the Freyaspace Corporation.”
The store manager visually scanned Charon for a moment.
“You’re too young, punk!” The manager replied in what Charon recognized as an old Chicago accent.
“The
Freyaspace Corporation is a owned family business. An actual family
business. Unlike those back in Chicago.” Charon responded. “But
that’s not important right now. What’s the problem we are responding to
is that you're in clear violation of the lease agreement the Star-Mart
Corporation has with the Freyaspace Corporation.”
“Doesn’t matter!” The store manager replied. “My orders come from Earth! We don’t take shit from colonial punks.”
He pointed to Diana.
“Get that walking piece of shit out of here! NOW!”
Captain Hausa spoke.
“The next thing he’ll do is deny service to ‘niggers.’”
“Well, we can’t have that.” Said Charon.
He turned to the station manager and spoke.
“Karl, the contract is revoked, close the store.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You won’t get away with this!” The store manger shouted. “You’ll pay for this! You won’t escape punishment from us!”
“Who’s us?” Said Charon.
The
store manager suddenly realized that he wasn’t back in the City of
Chicago on Earth. His political and social connections could no longer
protect him.
Charon turned to the chief of the station police.
“Chief? Did you get everything that moron said?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Chief,
would you please demonstrate to this gentleman how we deal with those
persons who believe they’re exempt from an objectively valid code of
law.”
“Yes, sir.”
The chief of the station police and the
other officers present pulled out their batons and proceeded to beat the
store manager into a bloody pulp.
“Ladies,” said Evelyn, “we’ll have to shop somewhere else.”
The
last jump in the journey was to the system of 10 Ursae Majoris. The
system was a binary. The primary star was classed by astronomers as a F5
dwarf and the secondary as a G5 dwarf like the original Sun. The
system was 52 light years from the Earth.
The configuration of
the orbit of each star caused the position the jump points in the system
to shift radically over the course of time. It also allowed the system
to have two habitable planets.
Orbiting the smaller and dimmer
star of 10 Ursae Majoris B was the planet Freya. Named for the Norse
goddess of wealth and beauty the core group of colonists came from the
sealed habitats of Mars. Survival in the lethal environment of the Red
Planet required a hardcore realist view of existence. A world view that
couldn’t indulge in fantasies. While some people found the core culture
of the Freyans to be hostile and the travel distance to be extreme
there were now a hundred million people living on the planet.
The
corporate executive shuttle dropped away from the primary space
station. The destination was the surface port at Landfall. The capital
of the planet and the Ursa Major Confederation.
Their limousine pulled out from the corporate section the down port. It turned north for the hour drive to family estate.
Evelyn and Diana were met at the main entrance of Charon House by a very elderly man with a cane and an eyepatch.
Evelyn made the introduction.
“Diana, this is my first incarnation, Alex.”
Alex graciously took her right hand into his.
“Welcome to the family.” He said.
“Thank you, sir.” She replied.
Alex smiled.
“You needn’t say that.” He said.
He then spoke to Evelyn.
“You left the usual trail of death and destruction?”
“Well, yes.” Said Evelyn.
“There are some things we need to discuss.” Alex replied.
