Steven Campbell - Hard Luck Hank - Screw the Galaxy

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked, those brilliant crystal eyes peering into mine. “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t know how it is on Belvaille. And with your culture. Please tell me if I’m being rude.”

It felt odd talking like this in front of her brother, even though he was only slightly more active than a lamp.

“The station is a really small community, only like fifty thousand people here. So everyone knows everyone else’s business. You know.”

Jyen looked confused.

“So you’re not seeing anyone?”

“No,” I said plainly.

“Do you like men?” she shrugged, confused.

“Are those my only options?”

“Well, you seem to be really popular. I figure you could be with someone if you want, right?”

I looked around for our drinks.

“I’m just not really big on talking about myself. Tell me about you, Jyen. Where did you grow up?”

“A military laboratory, mostly. Once they found out about Jyonal, they locked us both up and worked on us. They thought I might have the same potential as he does, though I don’t. But they kept me around to keep Jyonal happy and to threaten me. I don’t know what happened to our parents. We never knew them. We didn’t even have any parental figures on the base, because the leadership kept changing.”

“Ah,” I said, now really looking for those drinks.

“So why don’t you like talking about yourself? You seem so interesting.”

“It just makes me uneasy. I don’t know.”

“Not even about the fights you’ve been in?”

“I honestly can’t remember them all that well. And The News exaggerates quite a bit.”

“It’s so wild beating up people is your work,” she said.

“That’s not all I do,” I said defensively. “I’m an arbitrator. There are all kinds of regular businesses on Belvaille too, you know.”

The server finally came and I snatched my little fruity drink in its goofy artistic glass like my life depended on it. Though I could probably drink a thousand of them and not feel a thing—other than my bladder rupturing.

“Cheers,” I said. And Jyen and I clinked glasses as Jyonal merely downed his.

I was saved from more awkward talk when Daavisim himself walked up.

“Hank, my friend, I haven’t seen you in ages.” He was dressed in a smart suit that had more flash than I was used to seeing on him—it literally had blinking waves of light. He didn’t wear it well. Presumably his club’s transformation had required him to adopt this new look and he wasn’t easy with it.

“Good to see you too,” I said.

He looked over at Jyen, waiting for an introduction. I said nothing.

“I’m Jyen,” she said, darting out her blue hand. “And this is my brother Jyonal. We’re good friends of Hank.”

“Hank’s friends are welcome here. Especially one so lovely,” Daavisim said. He then regarded Jyonal, expecting an acknowledgement, but found him staring blankly at the wall, so he returned to me. “If you have a moment could we talk, Hank?”

“Sure,” I said, standing immediately.

“Want me to refill your drink? What are you having, a Gofuse?”

“Yes,” I answered, quickly nudging my Fizzback closer to Jyen.

“Can I come?” Jyen asked, like we were going to play a game.

We both glanced at her and Daavisim raised an eyebrow at me.

“We’ll be right back. It will only take a minute, right?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “Some more drinks over here,” he snapped to his servers.

His office was small, modest. There were crates stacked along the walls. It smelled like boxes. I liked it.

“First, I want to thank you for all you’ve done for us recently. You need any help with your hospital costs?” he asked, after closing the door behind us.

It was the first time I’d thought about it.

“I think it was free. No one mentioned it,” I said.

“I’ve been getting a kick reading about your old stories in The News . Belvaille sure was a rough place a while ago.”

“Most of that stuff is made up,” I brushed it aside, wanting to get past the small talk.

“Is that your sweetheart out there?”

“Her? No, I barely remember her name,” I said.

“Jyen, I think she said.”

“Hmm. So what’s up?”

“Do you think I could get a hit done?” he asked plainly. He sat on the front of his desk with his arms folded. There was a chair behind the desk, but it was covered in junk.

“You’re kidding,” I said, surprised. “You were at the meeting. No fighting.”

“This is a special case. Oluv-Jos.”

He laid the name out there with finality. I struggled with it a bit.

“Oh, Ddewn’s guy?” I remembered.

“That’s the one. He knocked over my register, took a decent bit of change.”

“After the meeting?” I was shocked. The guy must be suicidal.

“No. No.” Daavisim stood and looked around for someplace else to sit, saw there was none, and sat back down on his desk. “I think a few days before. But still.”

Daavisim wasn’t speaking plainly, which wasn’t like him. As I recalled, the same guy had taken Tamshius. The two acts were probably linked. Not that he robbed Daavisim to pay Tamshius—he was probably trying to start a war. This was the trigger. It wasn’t an easy thing, starting a war. You’d think it would be, but in the short term, it’s always bad for business.

“It could cause problems,” I said.

“Better done now and we start with a clean slate, or have this thing explode when the cops are here?” he asked innocently.

“Whoa! Garm will beat the crap out of you if you threaten her like that. You know she’s panicked as it is.” I wondered if the new club-owning Daavisim had been required to change personalities.

“I’m not threatening anyone, Hank,” he protested. “We’re just talking. I’m talking to you as a pal. I’m not the only one out for him, right?”

“I know there’s Tamshius,” I said.

“And I think Leeny,” he said, as if he didn’t know, but he obviously did.

And my brow furrowed. That’s three bosses Ddewn was bugging. At least. I didn’t see any connection between them, though. They weren’t geographically near each other or joined by past partnerships—of which I was aware. What was his goal?

This stuff could get so confusing. It could be a brilliant, subtle plan or it could have been the dumbest of dumb mistakes. Oluv-Jos might simply be a moron. There was no way to know.

This was when my services were usually employed. I could go between the bosses and straighten this stuff out, as I didn’t really work for anyone and they couldn’t brush me aside by blackmailing my kneecaps.

“Garm will want it talked,” I said resolutely.

“But what if they won’t repay?” he asked with exaggerated sincerity. “That’s a lot of bad blood stewing for however long those cops are here.”

I could see what he was getting at. They weren’t so blind as to miss the play going on. But now that Garm had put her foot down, they figured they could use that as cover to take out Oluv-Jos and whatever coalition, if any, was behind him wouldn’t be able to react. Either way, one side or the other would be upset.

“The simple answer is you’re going to have to speak to Garm,” I began.

Daavisim was about to respond when he started shaking uncontrollably and then collapsed on the ground.

I hurried over to check on him when I heard Jyen scream from outside. I rushed out the door. The music had stopped and there was no movement at all in the building.

Except for one person.

I looked back at our table and saw the most frightening thing I’d seen in my life.

Jyonal was floating a few feet from the ground, his arms were thrown wide, his eyes glowed with that otherworldly glare, and his face was stretched into a scream that was so ferocious I couldn’t tell if it was terror or fury.