Hard Break

Remembered fear held me in place as Uncle Randall walked around me. He’d combed his black hair back from his broad forehead, his dark blue eyes sparkled and not a line nor wrinkle or ounce of fat showed for fifty-six years of perverted indulgence.

He breathed in. “You smell so good, Rhianna, not the little girl anymore, but a fully developed playmate.”

“Not yours.” I said. “Never yours again.”

Randall laughed and walked across the dusky grey carpet to his desk. “Come, sit down, Rhianna, we have much to discuss.”

I felt the tension ease from my shoulders and neck. Once upon a time, he’d’ve been on me like a Rith catling on a Belbow rat. Now, he merely smiled.

He raised an eyebrow. “Rhianna, I’m aware neither you nor I have time for reminiscences. Please. Sit.”

I didn’t trust him. “Why did you over-ride the elevator?”

“Would you have come to me of your own accord? No, I didn’t think so.”

“What do you want?”

That broadened his smile. “A great many things, but for now, for you to sit so we can go over a few business issues.”

“I have no business with you or this company.” I turned away to the elevator doors.”

“Ah, but you do. Once you accessed your inheritance, certain… things changed within the company. Not the least, your role in it.”

I walked over to the desk, seething with resentment and anger. “I have nothing to do with the company. Never have, never will.”

His amusement vanished like a snowflake in boiling water. “You don’t know how much I wish that were true.”

Bitterness swirled in his tone.

“What did he do?” I asked. Randall knew whom I meant. A sick and twisted soul lived in Ryan, my evil father, and he would do his damnedest – even from the grave – to mess with people.

Randall sighed, as if suddenly exhausted. He leaned back in his chair, waved to a visitor’s seat and I finally sat down.

“On securing your inheritance, Ryan also set up caveats. And yes, I agreed with him at the time. Now…” he snorted. “It doesn’t matter. You’re going to have a role in this company or everything, and I mean everything, is to be sold off and the money given to a list of organisations that would benefit most from his… largesse. People like the New Luddites, the Organisation for Indigenous Minorities Armed Action, Gene Action…”

Anti-technology, terrorists and genetic slavery. Typical of him to want to finance the worst of humanity and alien races.

“And I care about this… why?”

“Because it includes your inheritance and any item you’ve purchased with Sagan money – corporate or personal.”

I felt the blood leave my face and a chill flashed across my skin.

My ship. I’d financed it through my own hard work and a loan from a Sagan subsidiary.

“The bastard.” I whispered. “He can’t do this!”

“Well, he did. With malice and forethought. We have to find a way around it. I refuse to lose this company to the whim of a madman. And I can see you refuse to lose everything you’ve worked for as well.”

“That mongrel dog of a…” I got to my feet, paced with outrage. “… evil prick of a scum sucking, base born, bottom feeder!” I could walk out and try another way to finance my Hunter career, but that would mean apprenticing again; starting from zero, and I didn’t play well with others. I’d spent years on my own, I couldn’t take orders from others, I’d mutiny.

“If he wasn’t dead already, I’d kill him myself.” Randall said quietly. “We both stand to lose everything unless we can come up with a solution.”

A solution? Daddy-dearest had mouse-trapped me from the great beyond! I knew what I’d done to warrant this treatment: I’d walked out on the family home as soon as I overheard plans for him to pimp me out to his cronies. I think I was fifteen, and I never saw him again – not in person. A solution would be to wake the dead and kick the shit out of him. Ryan Sagan never let anyone or any thing escape him for long.

But… was there a real solution? Best to find out how deep the shit went.

“Did he say in what capacity he wanted me to work?”

“That’s the good news. The caveat says is that you’re to work, and be paid by, the company. The bad news is that you have to choose from a list of departments.”

I stopped pacing. “I don’t want to work for Sagan in any role. I have my own life.”

“Here’s the list.” Randall pushed a sheet of paper toward me.

I stared down at the neatly printed words: Astrophysics, Construction, Contracts – Agricultural, Contracts – Corporate, Contracts – Legal, Defence Materiel, Diplomatic, Finance, Genetic Research, Personnel, Political Negotiations.

Nothing of interest to me; at all. Any of them would bore me to tears.

“I hate him. I hate him so… much.”

“With a deep and abiding passion.” Randall said and I lifted my head. “I do, too.”

“And yet you allowed this.”

He lifted a shoulder. “It was either that, or he’d cut me out totally. Worse, I was young when this was done; young, foolish, and full of malice.”

“There’s no way we can ignore my accessing the inheritance? Forget I was here?”

Randall shook his head. “Unfortunately, Sarah Carpenter is one of the most efficient people we have. As soon as you signed on the dotted line, she submitted everything electronically. It’s in the system.”

“The bitch.” I muttered.

“And if you try to get off Columbus without an official Sagan ident chip, you’ll be refused and your assets confiscated.”

“So I’m stuck here.”

“For now.”

“And that is way too long. I have places to go; people to hunt.” I sank into maudlin thoughts. Chained to an overpopulated world, with people chattering away until I went insane. Bounties laughing at me. The Hunters oozing mock sympathy as they registered for another Hunt. This was going to kill me.

Randall cleared his throat and I looked at him.

“You’ll have to choose before you leave my office, I’m afraid.”

“Or I set the sale in motion.” I said and he nodded.

I picked up the list again, mentally crossed off anything to do with money - I was useless at figures – and anything resembling talking politely to people. Astrophysics was out too: numbers, again. Construction, Contracts, Defence Materiel and Genetic Research remained. Contracts was out – too much reading of fine print, so was genetics. I knew nothing about it and didn’t want to know. So. Construction or Defence?

“Defence.” I muttered and slid the sheet back.

Randall allowed a small smile and turned to his keyboard. “Good choice. We have a number of jobs available.”

“Like what? Counting weapons?”

“No. Like… test pilot?” He glanced at me.

“I like to be sure of my ships, Randall.”

“Okay…” he murmured and studied the screen. “Personnel is out. No, not advanced weaponry, nor supplies…” He continued to talk to himself.

I stood and went to the window, stared down at the city. Buildings stretched to the horizon and beyond. Down below, I could imagine the teeming masses of people, both human and alien alike, all getting in each other’s way, talking, yelling, moving… I needed to go. Needed to get back into space where silence ruled.

“Hmm.” Randall murmured. “MIS.” And then he laughed with delight.

“What?” I turned back to him and he swivelled towards me.

“MIS.” He said with a smile. “Military Investigation Service.”

“A spook. You want me to be a spook?”

“It solves your problem and mine.”

“How?”

“Because, dear niece of mine, MIS investigate anyone who acts against Sagan. It means MIS can send you out on any mission where Sagan is involved.”

It had good points, but I’d still be a Sagan slave, beholden to the company, no longer a bounty hunter, and I had one last target to…

Then it hit me. I could track Rahman. “I can hunt down anyone who acts against Sagan? Corporate or personal?”

Randall inclined his head. “Your priority would be corporate, but any personal issues could be dealt with as well.”

I narrowed my gaze, suspicious. “Why are you doing this? Why free me from debt, give me access to Sagan accounts? Why give me a choice at all? You could stick me in Finance and be done with me.”

Randall turned back to his screen. “In everyone’s life, there should be good to go with the bad.”

Not even close to the truth, but I’d accept the answer. For now. Randall was up to something. Redemption wasn’t in his vocabulary.

I stepped away from the window, sat back down. “All right, what do I do now?”

He pressed a button and chip slid out of the bottom of the screen. He tossed it to me.

“Take that to the twentieth floor. They’ll understand and know what to do next.”

Again, suspicion snuck up on me. “Oh, they will, will they? I’m guessing you had this planned before you saw me enter the building.”

“You’d be guessing right, Rhianna. I’ve been waiting for this day for some time.”

I heard an alarm go off in my head. “Why?”

“Because if you hadn’t accessed your inheritance by the time you turned twenty five, the sale would go ahead.” He looked like a man who’d dodged a bullet; his demeanour turned back to the congenial benefactor and still I didn’t trust him. “Send me a copy of the will.”

“It will be waiting for you when you reach MIS.” He stood then, and held out his hand. “Thank you, Rhianna and good luck.” He said softly.

Whatever else he was, Randall was still family and I shook his hand.

* * *

The twentieth floor looked like a recruitment station. Men and women walked around as if they had places to go and people to kick. Their black uniforms crisp and perfect. I could see the stylised shoulder flashes: a black double ‘s’ with sharp corners instead of smooth curves of the ‘s’, all highlighted by sliver edges.

I walked up to the counter. The big Sagan Security man with chevrons on his sleeve glanced up from his paperwork with an absent smile.

“May I help you?” He asked in a pleasant and deep voice as he stood. He oozed confidence and charm from the top of his short black hair down to his highly polished black combat boots.

I handed him the chip and he inserted it into a reader. His smile grew, became infectious and I grinned back.

“Ah, Ms Sagan. Welcome to Security.”

“I thought this was Defence Materiels.”

“Oh, it is. We’re the… front, I guess you’d say. Sign here,” he put a sheet of paper in front of me, “and press your thumb here for DNA registration.” He held out a small black box. I did the DNA first and tried to read the sheet. A lot of legalese, most of which I didn’t understand.

“Since Defence is a secured area, we like to put a show of force up front to stop anyone who might not serve in the best interests of Sagan. Of course, Security is a part of Defence and we go everywhere in the known galaxy to protect Sagan – finished? No? Well, Sagan has a lot of companies off world, you know, and on the frontier. We can’t have enemies of the system trying to gazump our work.”

Gazump? Was that even a word? He continued to talk and wave his hand. Finally I just signed the damned document and shoved it back to him.

His ebullience vanished.

He picked up the paper and slid it into a slot. A green light flashed and he grinned.

“Six years. Good for you.”

Hands clamped around my upper arms. “Hey!” They dragged me backwards and looked over my shoulder. A door opened and the goons dragged me through into another room. This had a grey metal desk and door on the other side.

The men let me go and backed out, closed the door. When I went to open it, it was locked. What the hell?

Behind me, the second door opened and another black uniformed security guy came in. He looked… mean.

“Welcome to Sagan Security Forces, puke, now strip!”

© Copyright Jaye Patrick 2008