Notes: So for some reason the first part of Deysan's chapter isn't showing up in Blogger. Because UGH, FFS. So I'm posting the chapter in its entirety, right down to the bitter and well-deserved end, just in case this isn't a bug. Which I'm sure it it, but still. Both parts are included, so if you've read the first part already, KEEP GOING!
Title: Cloverleaf Station: Chapter Twenty-One
***
Chapter Twenty-One,
Part One
The cold receded gradually, feeling following it: tingling
in the fingertips, stiffness in the neck, a sense of nausea that only got worse
the warmer Deysan Moritz became. Ten seconds after becoming aware of the fact
that he was waking up out of cryo, he leaned over the side of his open tube and
vomited a load of stomach acid and preservative onto the floor.
Of fucking course Elanus would see to it he didn’t get the
injections to prevent sickness coming out of cryo. But…why was he coming
out of cryo? Deysan had expected to be locked in this fucking tube until his
jailers came to pick him up. Instead, the darkness of the cryo room was broken
by red and yellow emergency lighting, spinning around in circles. It took a
moment for his ears to come back online, but when they did Deysan heard an
automated voice calmly repeating: “Flare incoming. Emergency procedures enacted.
All personnel head to the secure shelters in the center of the station. Flare
incoming. Emergency procedures enacted. All personnel head to the secure
shelters in the center of the station. Flare incoming—”
Deysan grabbed the set of plain, utilitarian work clothes
that were stored in the bottom of every cryo unit and pulled them on, then
staggered over to the wall and slapped his hand against it. “Computer, explain
flare,” he said hoarsely, coughing around what felt like a rock in his sternum.
Shit, he was in bad shape. He’d probably be able to sue the fucking asshole who
ran this station for it, once he was picked up. After all, Gania wasn’t going
to let one of its wealthiest representatives be treated like a prisoner, no
matter what he was accused of.
“A radiation flare from Cloverleaf Quasar is due to reach
this station in thirty-seven minutes,” the computer said. “This will bring
radiation levels to three times what they are now, for a duration of
three-point-two-one minutes. All personnel must proceed to the secure shelters
in the center of the station.”
Deysan stood there for a moment, absently rubbing his chest
as he tried to wrap his head around this information. He’d been woken up out of
his cryo sleep because an emergency situation was about to happen. Given the
fact that he hadn’t seen Elanus’s sneering face the second he opened his eyes, Elanus
and the…whoever it was who he’d almost killed, god damn it he’d been so
close…didn’t realize that he’d been released. They were probably sitting in the
shelter right now, safe and sound, not thinking anything for their hapless
prisoner.
Not so hapless now. Thirty-seven minutes…that was a long
time, comparatively. Plenty of time to, oh, get a ship into space and activate
its high-speed drive before Elanus even knew it was gone. Three times the
radiation was a lot even for the Catalina’s capabilities, but it
wouldn’t last long. She’d endured days under this place’s regular deadly
radiation without a blip. If he wore a greenie suit, ordered her to focus her
shielding on him, he should be able to endure it. And after that…
The universe was waiting for him. And Elanus wouldn’t be
able to follow, not without cooking himself in his insufficient second ship. Perfect.
Now who’s having the last laugh, you piece of shit?
“Computer, keep this contact classified,” Elanus commanded
as he slid his feet into a set of papery shoes.
“Understood.”
“Guide me to the hangar that contains Elanus Desfontaines’
ship Catalina.”
“Understood.” A string of glowing blue lights appeared on
the wall. Deysan followed them on wobbly legs, stopping every now and then to
vomit. He was going to make Elanus pay for this treatment. He was going to
break his spirit, break it completely. He’d record it all, make sure Elanus
could see him forcing his stupid ship to damage itself before he handed it over
to his buyers.
It was going to be beautiful.
The lights led him to a vaguely familiar hangar, and the
door opened instantly at his touch. In the center of the large, dark room
was…was…Deysan narrowed his eyes. That was the Catalina? It had
generally the right contours, but the lines seemed a little different, the—
“Daddeee?” A flash of color played over the hull, and
Deysan’s suspicions vanished. This was it, all right—refitted, for some reason,
probably just because Elanus was bored, but the same mechanics underneath the new
fittings. He kind of liked the bulkier, retro look, actually.
“Computer, isolate all audio and visual in this hangar,”
Deysan said.
“Understood.”
Deysan watched as the flare of pink light turned orange,
then dark, dark red. Yes, Catalina had figured out who he was. It was
scared…just how he liked it to be. “Noooooo,” it bleated into the hangar, a
desolate cry shared with no one who cared. “Where’s myyyy daddeeee?”
“I guess he didn’t care enough about you to let you know,”
Deysan replied, and watched the effect of his words ripple across the ship’s
frame. God, Elanus had made such a delicious mistake when he programmed an AI
to incorporate feelings. “We’re getting out of here, you and me.”
“Noooo!”
“Oh yes we are,” Deysan growled, limping over to the ship
and knocking threateningly on its frame. “You’re going to take me out of this
place and you’re going to do it fast, because if you don’t I’m going to go find
your daddy right now and smash his head in with a sonic wrench, do you
understand me?”
“Not myyy daddeeee,” Catalina crooned desolately.
“Nooo, please.”
“Then shut up and get ready to get out of here.” That was
the beautiful thing about a ship that “thought” for itself—it could make
decisions that counteracted the orders of its creator. No doubt Elanus had told
it that Deysan wasn’t to be trusted or listened to, but this was a young, naïve
intelligence. When he leveled threats, it took them seriously, like a child
would. That meant he could take it out into space without Elanus being able to
do a goddamn thing about it.
Undone by his own hubris in giving a machine the ability to
make these kinds of decisions. It was perfect. Deysan hoped he got to see
Elanus’s reaction via the comm system when he realized what Deysan had done.
With the ship’s engines humming into pre-flight mode, Deysan
turned to the station’s computer. “Where are the greenie suits?”
“Third compartment to the right of the door by which you
entered.” Deysan went and got one, struggling into it. His heart was beating
too fast…but he’d be fine once he’d had a chance to rest, and to gloat. “The
hangar door cannot be opened,” the ship’s computer went on.
Deysan scowled. “Why not?”
“Emergency procedures dictate that all external openings be
under lockdown during a flare.”
“The flare isn’t here yet,” he argued.
“We are within the risk zone, as the flare is expected in
approximately twenty-one minutes. The hangar cannot be opened.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. How was he supposed to threaten a
stupid computer into compliance?
The answer presented itself as soon as Deysan thought of the
question. “Catalina,” he snapped, “figure out a way to override the hangar
door’s controls in…” How long should he give it? “Five minutes, or I’m going to
kill your daddy slowly.”
The ship whined again—like a dog, Deysan thought. Some of
his fellow CEOs had been enamored of the ancient Earth canines, resurrecting
their DNA and making designer dogs for themselves. Elanus hadn’t been one of
them, but apparently the exposure had stuck.
Three and a half minutes later, Catalina announced in
a small voice, “The doooors will oooopen noow.”
“Good.” Deysan looked around the hangar one last time, but
there was nothing here he needed. The ship was bound to be stocked with food,
and Elanus knew better than to leave his getaway vessel under-fueled. “Then
we’re getting out of here.”
And as soon as they were a safe distance away, he was going
to call Elanus to gloat…right before he flew off to make his next fortune.
Good fucking riddance.
Chapter Twenty-One,
Part Two
“Flare incoming in five minutes. Emergency procedures
enacted. All personnel must head to the secure shelters in the center of the
station immediately. Flare incoming in four-point eight minutes. Emergency
procedures enacted. All personnel must—”
The station’s computerized voice cut off abruptly as Deysan shut
the outer airlock. He frowned as he tried to figure out how to get the inner
door to close—this was so much more intuitive before Elanus had made all these
ridiculous changes to the ship. Eh, he’d get it to handle it on its own. “Catalina,
prepare for departure,” he said, picking his helmet up off the floor and
heading for the bridge. This area, at least, hadn’t changed much. It was more
intuitive than ever—he hardly had to do a thing at all before the ship was
anticipating him.
It wouldn’t do to let the bitchy little thing anticipate him
too readily. He’d have to make sure he scolded it for something after
the flare was over, really punish it—maybe while he still had Elanus on the line.
And speaking of…
“We are prepaaaared for depaaaarture,” the ship said
quietly. “Opening hangar doooors.”
Deysan sat and watched in satisfaction as the station’s
hangar opened exactly as the Catalina had said it would. This ship really
did have a magnificent brain, for what it was. “Take us out. Then hail the
station again—make sure it gets through to Elanus.”
“Yesss siiir.”
Good ship. Maybe he’d teach it to call him Master.
That would be gratifying. The thrusters kicked on—a little noisier than he
remembered, but their glide out into space was smooth enough. “Excellent. How
long until the flare?”
“Two and a haaaalf minutes.”
“Any response from Elanus?”
“Not ye—yesss. He is respondiiing. Should I—”
Deysan banged his heel against the Catalina’s control
panel. “Of course I want you to connect us, you stupid thing! What have I been
asking for this whole time?”
“I’m sorrrrreeee,” she whined. There was a moment of
staticky crackling, and then—
“You son of a bitch!” Ah, there was the tone Deysan had been
anticipating with such glee—fury mixed with sheet terror. “What the hell do you
think you’re doing to Catie?”
Deysan chuckled. “Catie, huh? My gods, have you gotten sentimental
as you’ve aged. Bad enough you made the ship sound like a child, now you’ve
got to give it little nicknames? Ridiculous…but I appreciate knowing that. Now
I know what to call her when she’d being a very bad girl on the way to
the Turial System.”
“Deysan, no.” Ah, now came desperation and wheedling—some of
his favorites. It was especially satisfying hearing it from this too-proud,
overly stubborn piece of shit. “Come on, that’s not—your buyers can’t be
expecting you now. It’s been too long. Let me…I’ll buy her back myself.”
Oh, that was a cute offer. “I don’t think you can afford
what I’d ask for her,” Deysan said with a sneer. “The price tag starts with your
loverboy’s dick on a platter and ends with both your hands chopped off and set down
next to it. Is he there? The man you sent to do the job you couldn’t?”
“I’m here,” a new, unfamiliar voice said. Deysan wished he
could get a visual—he honestly didn’t remember much of this man, other than the
fact that he’d somehow taken control of Catalina when that shouldn’t
have been possible. He hammered his heel into the control panel again. You’re
gonna pay for that too.
“Ah, good, good. I want you both to hear this.” Deysan
leaned in close to the audio pickup. Blood pulsed in the veins at his temples, his
fierce satisfaction raising his blood pressure. “I’m going to take this little
ship you both think so highly of, and by the time I’ve sold it, I’ll have
broken down every facet of its ridiculous personality and rewritten it
completely. By the time I’m done with her, your ‘baby’ isn’t even going to
remember your name. Every memory of you will be tainted, every mention of you
will bring pain. She’ll shy away from your legacy, and the best you’ll be able
to hope for is never being thought of at all. Do you understand me? I’m going
to rebuild her into a perfect little slave, and you’ll never be thought of by
her again.”
“Ambitious of you.” Elanus’s voice was oddly dry, none of
the anxiety in it he’d been projecting earlier. “And probably premature, given
that you’re about two minutes away from permanent brain damage right now.”
What was he talking abo—oh shit, the flare! Deysan struggled
into his helmet, annoyed by the fumbling way it went on—who had designed this
crap? “I think,” he said heavily once he had it on, “that your little ship will
be able to protect me well enough from the flare. She’d better, if she knows
what’s good for her.”
“Hmm…she probably could,” Elanus agreed. “If you were inside
of her. Which you’re not.”
“And if there were really a flare coming,” the other man added.
“Which there isn’t. You’ve been flying around exposed to full radiation in sub-standard
shielding for the past three minutes. And I’m betting you weren’t wearing a
greenie suit for most of it, were you?”
“What?” This was…no, what the hell? “This is the Catalina!”
he roared. “Stop trying your mind games, Elanus Desfontaines, they won’t work
on the man who taught them to you!”
“This isn’t a game,” Elanus said coldly. Deysan’s former protégé
sounded darkly serious, no trace of the flippant young man he’d once been in
his voice. “And that’s not Catie. That’s Kieron’s ship, the Daring Do.
It’s a pretty good little ship, way better shielded than most, and we did do a fabulous
job retrofitting her to pass for Catie, but the truth is, you’ve been had.”
“What…” Deysan shook his head even though they couldn’t see
it. “What? No. That’s…that’s not…” That’s impossible. He’s lying. “No, the
flare, the emergency procedures, that’s—that’s why I was let out of cryo! That’s
why—”
“I let you out of cryo,” Elanus purred. “I let you
out and gave you a chance to react. I wanted to see what you would do with it.
Whether you’d decide to take your medicine and face your charges, or whether
you’d attempt to break out of here like a fool. And I have to say, you
surpassed my wildest expectations with your efforts. Thank goodness
Catie isn’t actually hearing any of the shit that’s coming out of your mouth.”
“But…she’s…the ship, she’s talking…”
“Oh, is she? Or is that me?” Deysan shuddered as
Elanus’s voice reverberated all around him. “Me using her voice,” he said, and he
was, and just hearing it gave Deysan a headache. And now his nose was itching… “You’ve
been talking with me all along, old ‘friend.’ And now you’re dying.”
“No, I…” Deysan suddenly noticed the growing pool of red in
the bottom of his helmet. His nose was bleeding, badly. And now his eyes were
starting to feel scratchy as well, and his throat was irritated, like he needed
to clear it. “I…”
“You can always come back,” the other man—Kieron, the
fucking bastard—said. “Come back to the station, get treatment for your
radiation poisoning, and be turned over to Ganian authorities with the understanding
that everything you’ve said has been recorded and that additional charges will
be brought based on that. Or…”
“Or float away,” Elanus cooed. “Float away into the meteor
field, and maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get smashed to smithereens before you
asphyxiate on your own lymph fluid. Either way, I end up a very happy man.”
“You,” Deysan snarled, fighting the urge to cough. “You son
of a…I should have found you and killed you once I was out of that…cryo tank, I
should have…beaten your head in—”
“With a sonic wrench, yes yes, I know, I’ve heard all your
little threats before. Yawn. Dull. What’s it going to be, D? Do you want
to come back and rest up so that you can sit in a tiny cell for the rest of
your life, or do you want to go out a free man…and die like one, too?”
“I—I—” If you get back, there’s always the chance you’ll be
able to escape. You can bribe your next jailers, bribe Ganian officials, bribe
whoever you need to! He wanted to go back…but he couldn’t get the words out
of his mouth. Everything was starting to hurt, and all he could seem to do was
cough and cough. More blood splattered the inside of his helmet, now flecked
with bits of flesh.
“Welp, I’m gonna take that as a final ‘the hell with you’
then,” Elanus said with glee. “It was awful knowing you, have fun out there,
and if you need anything, well…get fucked.” He ended the transmission.
Deysan groped for the broadcast button, clawing at it, but his
limbs had become terribly weak. No, no, I don’t want this! I don’t want to
die like this! Take me back! TAKE ME BACK! He wanted to scream, to cry, to
beg…
But it was too late. He couldn’t move, he could only slump
to the floor of the ship—this ship that wasn’t the Catalina, this ship
that couldn’t save him on its own—and slowly, painfully, and irrevocably meet
his end.
Three and a half minutes later, he did.
And no one missed him.