Fool's Gold: Carson Lyle's War - Part One, page 4
Guess I know what I'm spending my bonus on.
He continued checking systems. There was a chirp in his earpiece that indicated an incoming message. He tapped his ear to open the channel.
"Majestic one-one-seven here, go ahead."
"This is El Dorado docking control. Report your status and destination."
"My Status? Your gate went out of alignment and one of my boosters was nearly ripped off when I came out of jump space. That's my status! And my destination is to the office of whoever runs your shit system so I can shove my broke booster up his ass!"
There was a long pause. Dammit! That little exchange probably wasn't going to do much good to get him in the landing pattern quickly, if at all. He'd be lucky if they didn't revoke his landing permit for El Dorado.
His earpiece chirped again.
"Majestic one-one-sev..." There was another long pause. Another chirp. "Majestic-one-one-seven, we have confirmed you landing clearance and we are transmitting your docking course to your computer. A claims rep will meet you as soon as you land to assess the damage. Proceed as soon you are able."
"Uh...thank you, Control. Majestic one-one-seven, out."
Huh? They should have told me to kiss their asses. Instead, someone'll be waiting for me with a check? Alrighty, then.
***
"...And my destination is to the office of whoever runs your shit system so I shove my broke booster up his ass!"
"Kind of a hot head, isn't he?"
The control operator looked up. "What do you want me to tell him? I shouldn't let him land. We don't take kindly to that kind of attitude from ships that want to land out of the blue."
"We will back you up. Give him his clearance and have him land where we've designated. That's all you have to do,” said the man on the left.
With that, the two dark-suited men turned to leave.
The controller protested. "I'm not going to let some freelance lowlife hauler just land, scot free, after that. My boss will have my ass. I can't afford to lose this job!"
The men stopped. The one of the left turned him around slightly. "Do what your government has asked of you."
The controller turned back to his console. "Fine! Whatever! Goddamn government robots."
The man on the right stopped and turned around. He walked with confident, measured steps quietly and approached the controller's seat from behind on his left side while methodically removing his right glove.
"Majestic one-one-sev—" The controller's voice broke off when he saw the man standing next to him. A Sudden wave of fear overcame him. "Wait! I'm doin it! Can't you see I'm doing it? Please...please don't!"
The man reached out grabbed the controller's left wrist.
"Wait! No! No—"
The controller's face went to a blank stare as a realization that his heart had stopped beating set in. He struggled weakly for a few seconds, then collapsed onto his console.
The man pressed a button, re-opened the channel and began to speak in the controller's voice perfectly.
"Majestic-one-one-seven, we have confirmed your landing clearance and we are transmitting your docking course to your computer. A claims rep will meet you as soon as you land to assess the damage. Proceed as soon you are able."
He released the man's wrist, replaced his glove, and rejoined the other man. They walked out of the control room and the door slid closed silently behind them.
The controller was slumped over on his console. His brain cells were screaming for the oxygen that blood circulation would bring. But there was none. His eyes were open, but he couldn't see. There was enough oxygen in his brain for one last thought:
Fucking...robots...
Chapter 8
Neema Outpost
Planet El Dorado
The remainder of the landing sequence was uneventful. There were no issues with the damage to the ship when coming through the atmosphere. During his landing approach to Neema Outpost, he saw reminders of why haulers weren’t always keen to make runs out to El Dorado. No one could forget the war, but the El Dorado landscape could make one think it was still going on. Being the border world to the Outer Rim, El Dorado bore the brunt of the conflict. From the air, Lyle saw the large charred and blacked patches of earth left after devastating clashes between battle mechs as far as the eye could see. They left little hint of the glittering iron pyrite deposits that gave the planet its name. Neena Outpost was once growing into a sprawling space port town and had a bright future as the gateway for future expansion in the territory, much like Atlantia. But now all that was left was a fraction of the town that was there. Most of what was left was put into repairing the space port and the buildings immediately around it. Like Atlantia, as you got further out from the port, the worse things got. The clusters of shacks and shanties, on the outskirts, were enough to bring down even the most optimistic of people.
Lyle settled the ship into the docking berth with no more than the usual shudder from the docking clamps engaging on the hull.
He checked the clock and smiled. Docking control would have logged his landing with one-hour-thirty-nine minutes to spare to cash in on the bonus. Now if they made good on a claims rep meeting him when he landed, he'd finally be able to call it a good day.
After a few minutes of securing the ship's systems, he made his way to the hatch leading to the outside. There was a hiss of escaping oxygen as the seal around the door was broken. It retracted upward and Lyle's eyes were met with the harsh glare of the El Dorado sun, the glare made worse by the yellow sky that just seemed to amplify the effect.
Lyle stepped through the hatchway. The door slid down and sealed behind him. He heard a series of clicks and a light indicator, on the outside, changed to red. The ship was now sealed. The electronic lock was triple encrypted and virtually unpickable. In the unlikelihood that someone could pick the lock – or just try to cut into the door or the hull around the door – there was an explosive surprise waiting. And that wasn't the only trick Lyle had up its sleeve for intruders and generally unfriendly folk. Booby trapping their ships was not an uncommon practice among experienced haulers. It helped add to that mutual respect they for one another.
The sunlight was piercing. He tried to shield his eyes with his hand. Lyle kicked himself for forgetting that about El Dorado. He should have grabbed his visor. He looked ahead of him and could make out a man waiting for him at the end of the docking ramp, but not clearly.
The man was official looking; dark suit, tie, visor, and gloves. He had to be the claims rep, as promised. Lyle approached the man, still blinking hard to help his eyes adjust.
"Carson Lyle?" The man said.
"Yeah, that's right."
"I understand you had some problems with our gate. I've been assigned to process your damage claim." The man removed his right glove and extended his hand.
Lyle did the same and there was a hearty handshake exchanged.
"Yeah," Lyle said. "The gate was...uh...sorry. I...I don't feel so well. Wow...uh..."
Lyle felt his strength drain from his body all of a sudden. The man started spinning before his eyes and everything suddenly went black.
Chapter 9
Carson Lyle woke up sometime later in an empty white room. The lighting, overhead, was intense white. He found his was in a simple chair, seated at a table, with his arms cuffed behind his back. There was a single door, in and out of the room, on the wall opposite where he was seated.
It took several moments to clear his head. What the hell had happened? He landed. He got off the ship and met the claims guy, shook his hand and...
Son of a bitch. The fucking gloves...
It very quickly became clear who was holding him there...where ever 'there' was. He had no idea how long he'd been out. He figured he was still on El Dorado.
What was he there for, though? That was the question. Were Betty’s words to him, before he left, more of a prophetic statement than a warning? He’d been a thorn in the Authority’s side for a lot of years, but how badly he’d broken the law was up for interpretation.
The door opened and the dark suited man, from the dock, walked in followed by...a twin? One sat down on the opposite side of the table with a data pad. The other walked around behind him and released the cuffs, but it didn't feel like he did so with a key.
Lyle looked at the two. They weren’t real twins, but he knew what they were. The look was distinctive. The chatter about it, among haulers, here and there across the territory was hard to forget. Authority Intel’s latest creation, officially known simply as: Agents. The story had it that after a large percentage of the Black Ops corps sided with the Outer Rim during the war, the Authority looked for a way to keep that from happening again. They wanted unwavering loyalty from their people, so they found a way to build it. Volunteers that met certain criteria were injected with specially developed nanotechnology that rebuilt them from the inside out. The process gave them superhuman physical capabilities. They were bred and programmed for all forms of covert black-ops up to and including assassinations. Rumor also had it they could kill by simply touching you. He had heard a story of a hauler that shook one’s hand. A minute later, he was dead. They say it was like he forgot to breathe. It was also said that the nanotech process stripped them of their humanity and if you ever got close enough their eyes, it would be the last thing you ever saw.
The gravity of Lyle’s situation began to weigh heavily.
He looked the two of them over. They may have been doing the same to him. He couldn't tell because their visors completely blacked out the eyes.
"Which one of you did that to me at the docks?"
The Agent in the chair spoke. "That was me. Not that my name matters but you can call me One. He is Two."
"What did you do to me?" The question was rhetorical.
"Since you asked," the Agent said. "I slowed your heart rate down to cause a drop in blood pressure, so severe, you passed out. We figured it was best to get you back here quietly and in one piece, so you'd be lucid enough to fully understand what we're going to talk to you about."
"You need to just let me go. I have a client to meet."
"Yes, The Grey Corporation. That deadline was two days ago."
Two days? Two fucking days? Lyle looked up at the other Agent. He stood perfectly still with his gloved hands behind his back. His visor still obscured his eyes.
Lyle said, "Then you know you're costing me a lot of money."
"This was not your job to take."
That got Lyle’s attention.
"What are you saying?"
Agent Two said, "Someone else was meant to bring that cargo here."
"Shorty? Are you kidding me?"
"No," One said. "He was working with us."
"And you've put a lengthy investigation in jeopardy,” said Two, as he moved to stand next to One.
Lyle laughed out loud. "I would think you guys are supposed to be smart. That was pretty stupid, if you ask me." He laughed, when he said it, but inside Lyle was fuming. Shorty was an Authority fink! Son of a bitch!
"We didn't ask you," said Two.
"You should have." Lyle laughed again.
He noticed Agent Two showing perceptible grinding of his jaw. "Problem, Chief? You seem to be a little irritated there. I'll be sure to tell everyone you do have feelings."
Two started to remove a glove while taking a step forward.
One grabbed his arm. Two paused for a moment then relented and slipped his glove back on his hand.
"You're here because we have an offer for you."
Lyle laughed louder and harder.
"Keep laughing," Two said.
"Right now, we have all the documentation prepared to file formal charges against you for possession of stolen Authority military property—”
“Yeah, well, if you had done any kind of homework on me, you’d know I’m the last guy the Authority should be coming to with an offer.”
"Mr. Lyle, you're in a lot of trouble," One said. “Even we didn’t have you on these charges, the Governor of Rygel is said still to have a standing price on your head for that spice incident six months ago. Officially, the government doesn’t back bounties but that doesn’t mean you can’t just show up on his doorstep anonymously.”
Lyle shook his head, with a smile. “He shouldn’t have tried to stiff me on that job.”
Two straightened. “Well, this is a very different job that could you could stand to profit greatly from, if you cooperate.”
"So what stolen Authority property am I supposed to have?"
"Combat mech parts that went missing last month,” said One.
This time Lyle shook his head with a sly smile and said under his breath, "A fucking 'clerical error'. Yeah, that figures. Actually, you guys don't have shit. That load was cleared by your Authority Customs as legal. The contract had their chop. That relieves me of any of that responsibility."
This time Two actually laughed. "Is that what you're going with? You don't think the Grey Corporation has the resources to pay off a customs inspector? We allowed it to pass. Shorty, as you call him, was our willing and highly paid mule."
"It's plain and simple," One said. "We have you dead to rights for these charges. All we have to do is file them. Your ship is already impounded. It's as good as gone."
That got Lyle angry. Mad Jack would come back from the grave to kick his ass if he knew he’d lost the ship, especially to Authority impound.
"I've got rights," Lyle said. It sounded utterly ridiculous to himself when he said it. Trying to invoke his rights as granted by an Authority that he had zero respect for. Pathetic.
"Now," One said, "You do have a recourse. As I said before, you can help us."
Lyle resumed laughing.
"Do you have any idea why Grey Corporation would even bother acquiring such a substantial load of mech parts under the table? Of everything they do, their military contracts are in other areas. So why?"
"Fine. Why?"
"Who would want Mech parts?"
Lyle sighed. "A Mech unit."
"The units based here wouldn’t need to buy stolen parts, would they?"
Lyle shrugged. “The Authority doesn’t bother providing sufficient basic needs for most of the people out here, so failing to supply its own military isn’t too much of a stretch.”
Neither agent reacted to the comment
Lyle thought for a moment. Where was this leading? Other Mech units...
“The rogues in the Outer Rim,” Lyle said, finally.
"More specifically, the 501st Mech Battalion."
Lyle went wide-eyed. He knew the 501st to be the largest of the rogue Mech Corps units that defected at the start of the war. They started a wave of defections of most of the other smaller units that were based in the Outer Rim, effectively splitting the Mech Corps in two. It made a war over a difference in principles, extremely personal for those fighting it. Any Mech Corps driver with a confirmed kill on a rogue mech would get a bonus. Command called it a ‘Traitors Bounty’.
The force that defected was sizable, but lacked the supply infrastructure and support from Earth and it was believed the traitors would be mopped up quickly. That wasn't the case. The Authority Mech Corps kept going after them in the asteroid territory and they were taking heavy losses with each engagement. This cycle of attack and loss went on for three standard years. But with reinforcements arriving from Earth, time was on the Authority’s side.
Then the rogues launched a daring raid on the Earth gate. They stole the jump space interface control fuse, disabling the gate. During the battle, the getaway ship carrying the fuse was destroyed. The fuse for a deep space, interstellar gate is unique. No replacement was available or could be manufactured. Without it, there was no gate. No reinforcements from Earth. No supplies to make up for the loss of raw material the inner worlds used to get from the Outer Rim colonies. After that, the two military forces were on much more equal footing.
It wasn’t long after that a cease fire was declared and a treaty signed granting independence to the break away colonies. But the ripple affect of not having support from Earth, and very limited trade for raw industrial materials from the Outer Rim for the last nine years had crippled the economy within Authority territory and not done anything to mend fences between the two populations. Popular opinion would have the war start again tomorrow if it meant getting the Earth gate back online.
“They truly are traitors of the worst kind,” Two said. “The very act of trying to deliver illegal cargo meant for their hands constitutes a charge of treason on top of everything else.”
"If you do this for us, you have the opportunity to bring closure to those that lost friends and loved ones in that attack,” said One.
Hearing the story again was torture for Lyle. He did his best to remain calm, but he couldn’t hold it all in. A painful tear slowly ran down his cheek. Sarah…
“You lost someone too,” One said.
Lyle nodded slowly. It was almost too painful to think about. He wasn’t there to protect Sarah. He should have been, but he wasn’t. He was in so much inner turmoil, he almost lost sight of the fact that he wasn’t there to protect her because of the Authority…that the attack happened because of the Authority.
Lyle felt his face contorting into an angry grimace.
“What do you think about that?” Said One.
“I think…you may know more than you let on,” Lyle said, evenly, without looking at them directly.
Then Two asked suddenly, “Have you ever been to Farpoint?”
Lyle’s face was stone cold. He turned to Agent Two and stared for several long moments. There was a perceptible increase in tension in the air.
“No,” he said, turning away and looking straight ahead again. “Why?”
