Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Screw the Galaxy

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 rdfloor. 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.”