Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Basketful of Crap

“If they disabled the Portals,” Garm said, “we are stuck here.”

“Stuck where?” I asked, thinking she meant City Hall.

“At the edge of the galaxy.”

Garm was not happy going to the port to meet the Navy transports that had escaped the attack.

I felt we should give our welcomes so they didn’t get any wrong ideas. Such as thinking we had anything to do with the corporation that had launched a ton of missiles at them.

When we arrived, the Navy was already in place, peeking around corners. Pointing guns. Shouting.

“Freeze! Get your hands up!”

Delovoa’s hands shot up like he was trying to touch the latticework—I think he was even standing on his tippy toes. Garm slowly put her hands about equal to her head. I just stood there. Eating.

My body still ached and I was hungry and their guns weren’t that impressive.

“I am an administrator of this Independent Protectorate,” Garm said with gusto. “I demand you explain your presence.”

The General walked forward along with about fifty other soldiers.

“General,” I exclaimed. I had not been expecting him.

The soldiers surrounded us. I could see many more in the distance unpacking gear.

The General ignored Garm and Delovoa and spoke to me.

“Where can we set up a base of operations? I understand many of the warehouses are compromised. Are the telescopes under surveillance?”

“The telescopes are—” Garm started.

“You are the Surrogate under Article 7 section 5,” he interrupted, pointing to me.

Garm was stewing.

“What? What’s that mean? What did I do?”

“You’re our representative,” Garm said through clenched teeth.

“I need a condition report on the station,” he continued.

“Well…it’s pretty crappy,” I said learnedly.

I heard a familiar rumbling and looked back and saw a corporate APC approaching the port.

“Those are the bad guys!” I shouted.

The General barked some orders and the Navy fanned out in defensive positions.

Garm grabbed Delovoa and hurried him down the street into one of the nearby buildings. I wasn’t going to be able to reach the door in time, so I used my Surrogate intellect and covered my head and lay flat on the ground.

I just got out of the hospital. I was still in, if not agony, body-wide hurting. I didn’t want to get in a firefight so soon. And I had nothing to fight with. I couldn’t even throw a rock because Belvaille had no rocks—and I couldn’t throw.

Hearing a million guns firing from the ground was a different experience. It wasn’t terrible. In fact it wasn’t bad at all, because for once no one was shooting at me.

Some Navy soldiers stepped on my back to move to new positions, but other than that, it’s like I wasn’t there.

“Hank, come on!” I heard Garm yell behind me.

No, thank you. I wasn’t going to move until the gunfire stopped. I didn’t peek. I didn’t move my arms. I didn’t move at all. If it’s working, don’t fix it. And so far I hadn’t been shot once.

All in all, it was done relatively quickly.

When you’re actually in a fight, you tend to lose track of time. But I didn’t have a whole lot to do. I would guess from start to finish, explosions and all, it was less than five minutes.

There were only a handful of weapons firing now, but a lot of yelling. I was about to lift my head, when something told me to wait for every single shot to be silent.

“You can get up now, Mr. Brave,” Garm said.

I pushed up on my arms and tried to get my leg under me and I pitched forward and landed on my stomach.

Garm laughed but I panicked.

I couldn’t stand!

I rolled on my side but I couldn’t get my legs under me. My knees hardly bent.

“You’re kidding me,” Garm said seriously.

“It might be the bandages,” Delovoa suggested.

Both of them stared at me with perverted interest as I spun around on the ground like a broken toy.

“Help,” I finally said, humiliation overcoming pride

Garm pulled on one arm and Delovoa the other, but it was like two fish trying to tow a lake. When I used them to help me up, I simply pulled them to the ground.

“Go to the wall,” Delovoa said.

I was really starting to get scared.

The General returned with a number of his men, one of them dragging the corpse of a corporate soldier.

“Is this the uniform of the group that is using the Portal?” he asked.

I was trying to climb the wall. It wasn’t working. My hands just weren’t sticky enough and the walls were too smooth with nothing to grab. I couldn’t bend my knees or lift my legs. What Devus Sorsha had said was true. I was becoming too thick to move properly.

“Well…” I started.

Then I slid to the ground on my side, my face to the building. I spun around on my butt so I could at least face the General.

If he thought my actions were odd, he didn’t show it as he maintained his usual glower.

“There is only one corporation. Run by one man. I told you that.”

I guess he didn’t believe me. Or was confirming. Or whatever.

“You should be careful with that body,” Delovoa said, “it is biologically engineered.”

The General’s face creased even further.

“I have 250 men who need a base.”

“City Hall,” I said immediately.

“No,” Garm corrected.

“Not even the corporation will attack it. They can’t risk damaging the vital systems.”

“Right, so his men shouldn’t hide there. That puts us all in danger.”

“We already are,” I said.

“How do we reach City Hall?” the General asked.

“Take the train.”

“We’re not riding public transportation in a war zone!”

“Then you’re walking across the city in a war zone. It’s kind of that way,” I said, pointing over my shoulder. “And can you guys help me stand up?”

On the way to the train we saw the carnage that was the leftover remains of the corporate soldiers. Those flesh bags had beaten 800 or so of Belvaille’s best and sort of brightest and 250 Navy commandos came down and shot them to hell in five minutes.

It was embarrassing.

Admittedly, there were no tanks and a lot less corporate soldiers, but still, not one Navy soldier had been killed in the exchange.

“Excuse me. Pardon me. Pardon me,” I said, as I pushed to the front of the crowded train to see the General.

“So what happened on the battleship?” I asked him.

“We’re not discussing tactical situations in transit.”

I looked around the train, which was wall-to-wall with commandos.

“I’m pretty sure there’s no one here except us.”

Garm remained seated in the rear, frowning, her arms crossed. But Delovoa was next to me.

“Our ships are destroyed. Or at least incapacitated enough they can’t respond to communications.”

“Isn’t a battleship the second biggest vessel? How did you not scan that many missiles?”

“Fourth largest,” the General amended. “The weapons didn’t show up on scan until they were en route and it was far too late. Our transports had just disembarked. We believe that is what triggered the attack.”

“What do you plan on doing?” I asked.

“Apprehending the leader of this station and installing interim Navy control.”

“What do you plan on doing besides that? Because that’s not going to happen.”

“We will require your assistance in our push to their base,” the General said.

“I’m happy to be your Surrogate—which is a weird name, by the way—but I’m not getting anywhere near them. I don’t have a gun, for one thing.”

“I can fix the barrel on your autocannon. It will be louder and less accurate, though,” Delovoa offered.