Hard Luck Hank: Screw the Galaxy (8 page)

“How do you know? Were you some Ontakian weapon
scientist before you came to Belvaille?”

“No. I-I heard it somewhere,” I said
unconvincingly.

“Come on!” she yelled, pulling my arm.

I was far too heavy to be pushed or pulled
around, but I allowed myself to be taken to the car. Two soldiers were injured,
unable to help us. The two on the ground were dead.

Before I got into the car, I threw up. I paused
a moment looking down at my sick. There were my rations mixed with blood. Now I
was hungry again.

Putting me in the car was probably a bad idea.
I was comfortable. My head immediately drooped to my chest and I was 100% ready
to go to sleep.

Garm kept berating me and hitting me and
otherwise being an effective alarm clock.

After a very short ride we stopped.

“This is it. Building on the right. Third
floor. Number seven,” she said.

We got out of the vehicle and my body was
unbelievably stiff. Like premature rigor mortis had set in.

I scuffled my way to the building, Garm’s hand
on the middle of my back, pushing. I took out my pistol but didn’t turn it on.
I wasn’t sure where my shotgun was, not that it mattered.

Without thinking, I emptied my four other
shotgun shells onto the floor as we entered the building, since I didn’t need
them. They made a bit of clacking and Garm shushed me. Not sure why I dropped
them, but I probably had at least a mild concussion.

I really, unbelievably, wanted to take the
elevator, but Garm made me use the stairs. I think she regretted it about a
half flight up, when I had to put away my pistol and drag myself up by the
railing.

My body was trying to shut down, the adrenaline
long gone. Also, my heightened regeneration takes energy. It’s like when you
have an illness that puts you in bed so you can devote all your resources to
fighting what’s ailing you.

My mouth hung open and I was gulping in air as
we reached the top of the first flight. Garm relented and we took the elevator
to the 3
^rd
floor. It gave me a chance to catch my breath and I took
my pistol back out as I leaned against the wall.

“Do we have a plan?” I asked her.

“Shoot it until it dies.”

We exited the elevator, Garm poking her head
out military-style to see if it was clear first, while I just fumbled on out.

We came to apartment seven and for a moment I
thought of knocking. Garm was obviously waiting for me.

I manipulated the handle and pushed in the door
and entered.

It was pitch-black inside. Of course. No one
had thought to turn on the lighting inside the apartments. There was only basic
electricity in this part of the city. Only the vague illumination from the
hallway helped and that didn’t cover any of the back rooms.

Garm followed me in with her pistol drawn.

I was trying to get my eyes to adjust. It was
ridiculous thinking I could fight this thing at all, but trying to do it in the
dark was suicide.

“Hank. Turn on the gun,” Garm whispered.

Oh, yeah. I flipped on the power and the green
glow burst across the empty room. Empty except for the Dredel Led squatting in
the corner looking at us.

It stood up and I saw its arm moving. That was
the arm that held its cannon.

I raised my pistol and pulled the trigger.

Green.

All I saw was a green of unbelievable
intensity. It was all-consuming. Everything was green.

I’m not sure how long this lasted—seconds,
minutes, hours. I still saw green, but I also heard some indistinct sound. My
head slowly cleared and I saw the sound was coming from Garm, who was screaming
and writhing on the ground.

I still saw green and it was because my pants
were on fire and the flames were of that color. I was sitting down. I looked at
my burning pants for a moment and realized my legs were in them and I might
want to put out the blaze.

Putting my pistol to the side I patted at them,
and then finally got on my stomach to smother the flames.

When I stood up, I was about to help Garm when
I realized there was a lot more light than before. There was a hole in the
wall. In fact, the whole corner the Dredel Led had been in was gone, as was the
robot itself.

Garm stumbled into me.

“I can’t see. I can’t see. Is that you, Hank?”

“Yeah.”

I held her and walked cautiously to the hole. I
could feel Garm walking better. She was moving her head around now, blinking
and rubbing her eyes.

“Look,” she said.

I looked down to where she was pointing. There
was the start of what looked like a metal foot, with the rest melted and fused
to the floor.

We stood at the edge of the apartment. We were
exposed to the air of the city by a brand new, circular, eight-foot hole, the
sides of which were still smoldering hot. Straight ahead from us I saw a
similar hole in the opposite building. In the far distance through that
structure, I could see yet another hole. If there were more, I could not tell,
as it was too dark in this part of the city, even with the molten perforations
shining like red rings.

“I’m not paying for this,” I said.

I slept. And slept. And ate. And slept some
more.

My body was telling me in no uncertain terms
that I shouldn’t be doing anything more strenuous than bowel movements, and
this time I listened to it. Not sure how long I was in my apartment. I shut off
my tele and did not receive information from the outside world.

I ate mounds of food and surprisingly little
came out later. It was like every molecule was being used to restitch my
fractured self.

At one point, Garm actually broke into my
apartment—I think she was checking to see if I was dead.

I finally came around and knew I was better
because I felt like some booze. I figured this was a good time to open the tony
bottle Tamshius had given me in honor of losing a huge sum of money at his
casino. I had maybe a capful and my body suddenly switched instructions and
told me not to drink anymore.

I was tired of eating rations and not moving,
so I took a long, hot shower and hit the streets. The light from outside made
me squint, but at least the city was still here. So no major invasion while I
was out.

“Mr. Hank! Mr. Hank!” I heard from behind me.

Not exactly how I wanted to reenter society.
Jyen ran up to me, her ears swinging when she came to a stop.

“Are you okay?” she asked out of breath.

“Getting there. If you’ll excuse me, I need to
get some food.” It’s not that I didn’t like Jyen, I didn’t even know her, but
barring her recent purchase of a narcotics factory, she was just a normal,
non-criminal person. I didn’t know how to act around her.

“I read all about you in
The News
. They
said you killed a Dredel Led.”

I took out my tele and turned it on, scrolling
to the latest edition. To my astonishment, the entire issue was about:
me
.
I stared at it in awe.

Rendrae devoted the entire contents to my
exploits since I’d been on Belvaille. He had interviews with almost every boss,
stories from various bodyguards and bouncers and thugs, and practically every
job I was ever involved in—some of it even true.

The cover story was about the destruction of
the Dredel Led. I skimmed it, and most of the eyewitness testimony was
obviously from Garm. She had neglected to say it was my Ontakian pistol that
had killed the robot and it instead became some struggle between Colmarian and
machine, with me ultimately triumphing. It was so melodramatic I’m surprised
she didn’t tell how I’d thrown myself in harm’s way to save a baby during the
fight.

What I couldn’t believe was how so many people
spoke well of me. I know a number of the bosses interviewed didn’t like me that
much, if at all, but here they were singing my praises in the most hyperbolic
fashion. They even had guys talking about how I’d handled beating them up with
dignity and aplomb.

Jyen had been blabbing this whole time, but I
didn’t hear her. I mean it’s not every day you see yourself portrayed as a
hero.

As I was reading, I got a tele from Garm.

“Hey,” I answered.

“So, finally out of your place I see.”

“How did you know?” I looked up at the nearby
apartments to see if she was peeking out a window like Jyen must have been.

“Once the techs had figured out how to monitor
doors opening and closing, I decided I would—”

“Monitor everyone,” I completed for her.
Typical Garm.

“We need to talk,” she said.

“Fine, but I need to eat.”

“Come over when you’re done. I have your
shotgun, by the way.”

Holding it hostage, more likely. She could have
left it in my place when she came by.

Jyen was still talking excitedly. I put my hand
on her shoulder.

“Look. Jyen. Sorry, I need to run. Important
business and all.”

“Do you know when you’ll be back? What I have
to say is extremely urgent.”

I couldn’t imagine they were out of drugs
already. Or maybe he’d overdosed. In any event, she didn’t say she was going to
give me money, so her situation was prioritized appropriately.

“I’m just getting back on my feet,” I said, as
I moved away from her. “But feel free to get in touch with me later. In a few
days.”

I continued to read
The News
on the
train. There were some passengers on board and they all wished me well and grinned
at me even though I had no clue who some of them were.

I ate at a quiet restaurant where no one bugged
me. I just wanted to wash the taste of rations from my mouth. As I sat, I
continued to read
The News
. The stories got more and more outrageous the
further they went back in time. People I vaguely knew were talking in first
person about events that only sort of happened. I admit I don’t have the best
of memories, but is this how people recalled stuff? Or was this Rendrae trying
to sell papers by embellishing? Or maybe this is what people wanted to
remember.

I rested back at my place.
The News
was
very flattering, but it was also like my biography. Everything had looked grim,
no hope of survival, and then I showed up, looking calm as could be, eating a
sandwich.

Me eating featured prominently in a whole lot
of anecdotes.

After a few reads I became more and more
disenchanted with it all. I mean, was this my life? It was the same thing over
and over again, only the names and what I was eating at the time seemed to
change.

I’ve never really thought about a legacy. But
for the last century it sounds like I was basically a bully with low blood
sugar.

I suppose on Belvaille that’s high praise, and
I did get the sense that people meant it that way. Then again, if you laid
almost anyone’s life out like this it would kind of be one note, right? It’s
not like I have the chops to be some Colmarian diplomat. Or cook up a cure for
whatever diseases are out there.

Still, I was a bit in a funk when Garm walked
into my apartment.

“Just because you can open it, I still expect
you to use the doorbell.”

“You said you would come see me and you
didn’t.”

I could tell Garm’s being able to track my
movements was going to become highly irksome.

“Here, I had Delovoa fix it up. It got kind of
bent when that robot shot you.” She tossed me my shotgun, which was bright and
shiny.

Delovoa was the one true genius on the station.
There were plenty of technical people here, of course. Guys who wore suspenders
and smelled of obscure solvents and worked on the ventilation or any of the
other hundreds of systems that kept us alive. But they were mechanics and only
knew their one little expertise—and they didn’t even know those well if history
was any indicator.

Delovoa made his money by being a technology
vendor to all the bosses. He designed and made the weapons. Security devices.
Hell, just about anything. He’s the one that offered to buy my Ontakian pistol.
Good thing I hadn’t sold it. Originally, he had also created my shotgun for me.
He was expensive, but he made good stuff. I heard he was banished to Belvaille
for breaking technology restrictions like the mad scientist he was.

As I was admiring the feel of the gun, Garm
came over and hugged me.

“So, we still have a Dredel Led we have to deal
with,” she said, quickly breaking her hug and backing away while looking at my
bare ceiling as if it were interesting.

“Uh. How are your men?” I asked, Garm’s being
uncomfortable making me uncomfortable.

“Reaz-bolion and Innoti didn’t make it. Tyol Qe
looks like he will pull through, but he’ll need a prosthetic. But about the
other robot.”

“I just got up today, Garm. I don’t think I can
tangle with a killing machine just yet. I got exhausted walking.”

“That’s because you’re so damn heavy. Did you
see how often everyone describes you eating in
The News
?” she said,
laughing.

“You said it too.”

“You were! Here we were going down the street,
the first Colmarians to face a Dredel Led in a trillion years, and all I can
hear is you stuffing your face with rations.”

“I was hungry. Your body needs energy, you
know,” I said defensively.

“Look, we’re having trouble tracing the other
robot. We’re not sure where it’s hiding. Just think of the damage it could do.
It’s not just one person. It’s a Dredel Led. If it tries to knock out the life
support on the station, do you really think our engineers are up to the task of
stopping it?”

“But why would it? Why would an alien come all
the way out to one of the furthest, least important settlements in the entire
Colmarian Confederation? I mean, do they think we’re an eyesore?”

“I don’t know what rust slugs dream about but I
know we have to keep them off our pipes. And you don’t have to be in top shape,
just point your gun and shoot it. This time I’ll stand plenty far behind you and
keep my eyes closed. But be careful where you aim. That gun blasted clean
through three buildings. I’d hate to think what it would do if you pointed it
straight down.”

The doorbell rang.

I opened the door, there was no use hiding.

“Hi, Jyen.”

Jyen somehow squeezed past me and entered my
apartment. She looked harried, but stopped short when she saw Garm.

“Oh. Hank, I need to talk to you, please.”

“Who’s this?” Garm asked. She wasn’t used to
being relegated to second place in any conversation.

“Garm, Jyen. Jyen, this is the Adjunct
Overwatch,” I stated importantly. As if to suggest she should now leave.

“Good,” Jyen responded. “I know why the Dredel
Led are here.”

There was a pause that hung in the air.

“What,” Garm finally said. It wasn’t a
question.

“The Dredel Led. They’re here because of Hank.”

Garm and I exchanged looks. It was like someone
saying the robots were here because of the noodle casserole on the corner of 43
^rd
.

“I’m sorry, Jyen, but right now I need to
discuss some matters with Hank,” Garm said as politely as she could—which
wasn’t very.

“I knew you were a level ten,” Jyen continued.
“That’s how you could defeat them!”

“A level-ten what?” I asked.

“Mutant.”

“I’m a level four. Does it look like I can poop
out planets, or whatever it is a level ten can do?”

“Watch,” Jyen said excitedly. Then she took a
few steps back. Garm and I viewed her blankly. Like a precocious child who has
just worn out your patience.

She held her arms away from her body, blue
sparks began to crackle along her torso, and in a moment her entire body became
engulfed in a bright tornado of electrons.

Garm dove into my kitchen as I stood there
startled.

Jyen then thrust her arms towards me and
electricity arced between us, splitting off smaller bolts to my walls and
carpet and ceiling along the way.

I fell backwards, the jolt stunning my nervous
system, my clothes melted or burning, my skin charred, and my body not very
comfortable.

“What the hell!” I screamed at her.

The electricity vanished as quickly as it had
started and Jyen approached and crouched down in front of me.

“See? You weren’t even hurt,” she explained.

“Yeah, I’m hurt. That hurt a lot. Get me some
water, quick,” I yelled to the hiding Garm, who had her pistol out and was
peeking over a chair. She hesitated a moment, probably waiting to see if Jyen
was going to fry anyone else, then she backed up and warily fished around in my
cupboards.

I pulled at my crusted jacket, trying to get it
off my skin. Anything metal had fused and melted completely.

Garm came in with a cup, still eying Jyen.

“I’m not thirsty. Get me some water.” I took
the mug and splashed it on my chest, where there arose a sizzling.

There was some banging in the kitchen, then
Garm finally returned with a pot of water and doused me.

I got to my feet as Jyen backed away, seeming
confused.

“But you’re a level ten,” she said miserably.

I took a deep breath before answering. I didn’t
want any more unnecessary electrical discharges in my apartment, especially
directed at me.

“Jyen. I’m a level four. That’s it. A destroyer
shooting me would kill me and everyone I’ve ever known without breaking a
sweat. That…lightning thing you just did was very painful. Was that some kind
of device?”

“No, I’m a mutant like you. The Colmarian
government has categorized you as a ten, though. I saw the report.”

Garm and I have known each other for a while.
We talk all the time. We’ve been doing deals as a matter of necessity, and yes,
friendship, for a fair number of years. She had that look.

I reached out my hand and grabbed her hard on
the collarbone.