Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Screw the Galaxy

I went outside and looked up, but the smoke trails were gone.

Back in Deadsouth I attempted to patch together the rest of my drug load. I gave up trying to get the other half all in one go and just grabbed what I could from individuals.

The prices were higher taking it piecemeal and I had to deal with a plethora of trembling, bug-eyed dealers, but at least I was making progress.

I was literally carrying around a knapsack filled with about fifty pounds of narcotics when I got a tele from Garm.

“Hank, I need you to get here now!” she yelled.

“I’m working,” I said. The drug dealer I was currently negotiating with took a peek at my tele screen and about spontaneously combusted when he realized I was speaking to the Adjunct Overwatch in his apartment.

“This is absolutely serious, Hank. Hurry.” She cut off and I was left to ponder. Though generally a calm cookie, she could get overly excited. I figured the gang war had started someplace and I was going to have to get involved.

It was almost a straight shot north on the train to the administration buildings of City Hall. After a quick transfer I was walking into Garm’s unglamorous military headquarters.

City Hall was constructed back in Belvaille’s early days when the space station had a dignified purpose. The building had twisting spires and golden frescoes of valiant space pioneers. It was the only non-rectangular building in the whole city and really stood out.

I got buzzed past the various checkpoints and noticed all the soldiers were standing alert and looked worried. Must be a big fight somewhere. Probably full-scale conflict. I sighed.

Carrying my drugs, I was finally waved into Garm’s office.

“What took you so long?” she asked me angrily as she closed the door.

Garm had tried to make her office unattractive in case any officials visited, but there were still a few designer chairs and luxury items here and there. She just couldn’t help herself.

“What’s going on?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Watch this. It’s from a few hours ago.”

Garm was nervous. Sweating. Something had her stirred up and that got my attention. She played a video.

“Is that station check-in?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Garm chewed her fingernails absently. I put my bag down and focused on the video. People and cargo needed to check into Belvaille like anyplace else. Though we generally didn’t mind what they brought as long as it wasn’t too bizarre.

“Watch this guy coming up,” Garm said.

A man on the video approached the check. He was scanned. The scan showed—

“Is,” I began lamely, “that a robot?”

The guard at the checkpoint was confused too.

“Um,” he said. Then he got blasted to pieces. The robot had revealed some kind of heavy cannon held by or attached to its arm. An explosion of flame and smoke erupted and the video went dead.

“There are two of them. They flew away into the city. Some kind of jet packs.”

“Robots?” I asked again.

“We think. We don’t know. But they killed every single person at that checkpoint. Over twenty people, including three security personnel.”

“What would Dredel Led be doing here?”

“We don’t know who they are,” Garm said. “They’re robots and they killed a lot of people. That’s all we got.”

This was just totally unbelievable. I played back the video. He looked like a normal Colmarian, though that in itself was somewhat of an oxymoron.

The Dredel Led really were a scary concept, the bad guys for every work of fiction.

I’m not even sure what our real interaction was with their empire versus what was just hyperbole. I don’t think Colmarians had had any contact with them in millennia at least. Colmarian space adjoined theirs in some areas, but we adjoined just about everyone. And Belvaille was nowhere near them.

Real information on them was scant. They were robots. They had really advanced technology. They kept to themselves. Unlike the other races, you couldn’t say what a Dredel Led looked like. They could look like anything, right? I mean they were machines. Because of our wars with them ages ago, certain technology was now forbidden in the Colmarian Confederation.

“I’m hereby deputizing you, Hank,” Garm said.

“Uh, deputization denied,” I countered. “I’m not the military.”

“How many times did I offer you?”

“I don’t want to be in the military. And what can I possibly do to help? I can’t fight a flying robot.”

“Hank, I sent word we’ve been attacked. It will be a week before they even get that message. It will be at least a month before they can send anyone here. Are you willing to let those things run wild for a month? There are 100,000 people on this station.”

“A million.”

“What?”

“There’s a million people on Belvaille, right?” I asked.

Garm looked momentarily confused and annoyed.

“No. Where’d you get that idea? There are just under 100,000 here. But still, every one of them is in danger. Those things obviously don’t mind killing people.”

“You’ve got that big gun, can’t you use that?” I asked.

“That’s an artillery piece, it’s for knocking down buildings.”

“Then why do you have it?”

“For knocking down buildings! Look, if you can get one to stand still for thirty minutes while we set it up, we can use it, otherwise it’s no go.”

“You think my shotgun is going to do anything to that,” I said, pointing at the video.

“No, but your Ontakian pistol will.”

I stared at Garm, gobsmacked. It never occurred to me that she believed in it too.

“You’re kidding. I’ve never even fired this stupid thing,” I said, taking it out of its holster. “It probably hasn’t been shot in a thousand years. It’s either going to not do anything or blow off my face.”

“But at least it’s something.”

“You’re not getting it, I’ve never used it. I don’t know what it is. It’s just a green light. I scare people with it.”

“Well that’s like those robots. Don’t think of them as children’s stories, sneaking around at night or killing your parents and living in their skin. They’re just targets like anyone else you’ve fought.”

“No,” I said, disagreeing with her logic. “My pistol has never killed twenty people in one shot and flown through the sky. Those Dredel Led are exactly the same as the children’s stories.”

“Just try the pistol. We don’t have any other ideas.”

“It’s my great-great-great-grandfather’s and all I have left of my history.”

“Hank, we have to do something.”

I looked down at my pistol and clicked on the power. There was that reassuring glow. That deep hum.

Garm stood close to me, her firm hand on my shoulder.

“Hank, this is real. You know me, I don’t care about a whole lot of things a whole lot. But Dredel Led haven’t been seen in Colmarian space in…I don’t know how long. This could be a real invasion for all we know. We’re Colmarians, damn it.”

I hated to admit it, but Garm was right. We all talked trash about our great society. It was an easy target, what with it sucking in just about every conceivable way. But I think under all the gruff, every Colmarian was fiercely nationalistic and ready to cause as much havoc as possible if it meant protecting our backwards, incompetent system.

“Alright,” I said. “This is probably better than a gang war, anyways.”

Garm had mobilized her troops. I had never seen so many soldiers before, not even during the times we had riots. Everyone was as armed and armored as possible. However, I did not feel very safe as none of them looked even marginally confident.