Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Screw the Galaxy

Heningly ran around the front and got in. He did not turn around, but looked in the mirror at me.

“My apartment is located—,” I began.

“Oh, I know where you live, sir. I’ll take you right away.”

We came to my place and I flipped out my tele to pay.

“How much do I owe you?” I asked, after we arrived at my home.

Heningly looked scared, his eyes wide and his hands held up as if I were pointing a gun at him.

“Oh, no. Free! Let me get your door.” And he bolted out of the car and around to my side, where he helped me out.

“Thanks for the ride. Would have been a tough walk,” I said with a little laugh, feeling happy now that I was in front of my place.

“You could have made it, Hank. No problem. I’m sure you could have.”

I looked at him after this strange remark and he panicked again, as if he had said too much. Like discussing my walking habits was a state secret.

“Good-bye, call any time,” he practically yelled, as he ran to the safety of his car.

Inside, my place was still messy. I don’t know, somehow I was expecting shining surfaces and plush furniture. In my memories I was such a better decorator.

After a nap I flipped to The News . The headline was “Conspiracy #3 Details.” I couldn’t make sense of the story, so I opened the first issue since I’d been out. It had videos of me fighting the Dredel Led. Man that looked bad. The funny thing was, the story talked about the robot fleeing me as I tried to engage it. While in gross directional terms that was true, realistically it wasn’t close.

At the end of the paper was a bit that troubled me:

Hank has once again become the salvation of Belvaille by vanquishing this metallic villain. But one is inclined to ask the question, why has our nondescript community received such scrutiny? It seems beyond the realm of mere coincidence that a race as advanced as the Dredel Led would chance upon us on a whim. It’s time we come to grips with the dark nature of this space station. More to come, readers.

The next issue went into speculation. Of course, Rendrae didn’t know the real reason why the robots came, but he did his best to fill in the blanks. And those blanks were that Belvaille was in actuality a secret Colmarian military outpost and they were using the bad reputation of the city as a cover.

It went on to suggest there was likely a hidden Portal, or series, that led directly to Dredel Led space. Or that their empire was vaster than previously known and actually abutted Belvaille—which would have required a truly vigorous editing of celestial cartography.

The next issue essentially went after Garm. Rendrae had obviously been saving every drop of mud he had ever gotten on her, because he splashed them across the pages in all their inglorious detail.

Except that at every turn instead of seeing simple graft, he attributed her actions to some nefarious plot or other.

In the issue after that he attacked various parties on Belvaille and their potential involvement in the grand schemes. It was true fear-mongering, yet his facts were straight and all of this seemed theoretically possible, albeit unlikely, when read at the same time.

I mostly escaped his bile, at least in terms of being a conspirator:

I’ve known Hank for many years and he’s one of the elder residents of Belvaille. I label him a trustworthy person worthy of respect. It’s his own lack of acumen, and childish simplicity, which prevents him from seeing himself as a pawn in the Confederation’s game, however.

When our Adjunct Overwatch gave the order to bombard the delicate street fight that was ensuing, it was clear she was not only trying to eradicate the Dredel Led, but Hank as well. For she doubtlessly now considers his presence a liability. Who knows her past misdeeds more than Hank, who has so unknowingly helped advance the Colmarian Confederation’s stratagems?

I practically felt bad for myself for being such a dupe. Not to mention those good-hearted Belvaillian citizens who were being subjected to the unrelenting evil of our government.

Of course, all of this was preposterous.

I teled Rendrae so we could talk. After congratulating me on my recovery, we set a time and date to meet. I wanted to set him straight.

First, I had to see Jyen. I wanted to know why she was putting this station in mortal danger by remaining here with her brother.

I hung around my place for another day or so, not quite voluntarily. I’d just lie down for a moment to rest and realize three hours had flown by.

I walked across the street to Jyen’s, rode the elevator up, and buzzed their door. Jyen opened it and the view of their apartment left me horrified.

It was completely furnished, with junk everywhere. When I came in I had wanted to see suitcases, not a living space that looked like its occupants never planned on leaving.

There were chairs, couches, rugs, tables, and a lifetime of knickknacks covering it all. It appeared they had spent every second shopping since I last visited.

“Why are you still here?”

“The port is closed. Besides, we didn’t know where to go, or how.”

“The port is still closed?” I asked. That seemed odd.

“Yeah. Not one ship has left or entered in more than a month. We’re stranded. Don’t you think Jyonal has done a great job on our apartment?”

“You realize more Dredel Led could be on their way, right? How pretty your furniture is hardly seems important.”

At this point a man walked into the room from the back. He was dressed well with a manicured black beard and large sunglasses.

“Hello, Hank,” he said casually.

It took me a moment to realize this person was the creature that had once been Jyonal.

“Is that you?”

Jyen walked over and proudly stood by her brother.

“He’s recovered a lot. I told you what they were doing to him while we were incarcerated,” Jyen said.

Absently, Jyonal injected a drug into his neck. So he hadn’t changed that much.

His eyes glowed even behind the obscuring glasses as he looked at the floor. I got the idea he was using his mutation, which was absolutely not what I wanted to experience first thing out of the hospital.

On the ground in front of me appeared a solid cube maybe six inches on all sides. It had swirls of colors all over it, mostly of dark, metallic shades.

“Do you know what that is?” Jyonal asked after his eyes stopped glowing.

“No idea,” I said. “It looks kind of psychedelic.”

“What’s that mean?” Jyen asked curious.

“Um, it means kind of crappy.”

“No, silly, it’s our payment,” Jyen said with delight.

“Payment for what?”

“For you saving our lives.” Jyen walked closer to me now, looked up into my face, one ear falling over her shoulder. “For fighting the Dredel Led. You could have just let him kill us.”

“And what’s that?” I answered, pointing at the cube.

“It’s delfiblinium,” Jyen said. “It was one trick we used to pay for our transport out here.”

Delfiblinium was some super alloy. It could only be created at the most prestigious labs and in minute quantities.

This slab of metal was worth a ton. In theory. The problem was finding a buyer anywhere within the entire state of Ginland. I’d be arrested immediately if I tried to sell it. It was just a highly illegal doorstop.

“Thanks,” I said, not wanting to touch the druggie-spawned metal. “But really, we need to get you two out of here.”

“How? The port is closed. Even the Portal is shut down,” Jyen complained.

“The Portal too?” That was really bad. The military controls the Portals. I might be able to get something out of the port, with Garm’s okay, but that was irrelevant if the Portal was shut down. It would take thousands of years to travel to the next inhabited system without a Portal. It simply wasn’t possible.