The Retrieval III – Choose Your Own Adventure
Oscar Willington was never easy to find. Though he’d amassed a staggering fortune that dwarfed the gross domestic product of the wealthiest nations on Earth, he was not one for audacious estates sprawling across dead moonscapes like other space barons. There were no mountain fortresses or bio-domes in semi-habitable green worlds, not even a luxurious Community Pod in an eternal drift across the galaxy, ruled by his own idea of utopia. Willington was old money. Respectable money, though taken from a very unrespectable industry. Wealth was not a goal for men like Willington, but rather victory. He wanted to dominate. He lusted after it, the brutal game of deep space exploration where lives and fortunes swung by whose will was the strongest. Money was merely an aspect of the game, a weapon that sometimes applied leverage, and other times merely served as a distraction.
Also, Willington believed that luxury begged attention and he was not interested in drawing the ire of X-Verse, the only corporation capable of dismantling Willington’s empire.
David guessed that Willington would likely be at one of his seven major mining operations, overseeing the extraction of ultra-rare elements and staying a few steps ahead of the swarm of assassins and kidnappers always trailing the wealthy in deep space. Though David had run four salvage missions for Willington, he’d never actually met the man in the flesh and doubted the baron would happily buzz him into whatever fortress Willington was holed up in. The man did know David’s name though, as did all of the universe’s pirate kings after David managed to sneak into Regency’s near-Earth command to liberate a crew of smugglers.
That was the stupidest thing David had ever done and he thought Robin would never forgive him for taking such a dumb risk for a relatively small bounty. But he had friends in that crew. Stupid or no, it was the right thing to do.
David spent a week scouting out mining colonies, watching supplies go in and shipments go out. All Willington’s largest mining operations were at smaller, Earth-like planets. They were all in the orbital sweet spot where, had asteroids, solar flares, or other extraterrestrial calamities not wiped life clean off the planet’s surface, they could have been ideal spots for colonies and terraforming. Some were the ashen white-grey of the Earth’s moon, other’s a dark red, and one was still covered with water but also an atmosphere choked with acid and soot. It was a new strategy for Willington after he’d spent decades mining gas giants where the most sought after elements were abundant. Some attributed Willington’s new approach to the more stable climates on earth-like planets, but others wondered if Willington wasn’t after something else aside from natural resources, something everyone else had overlooked.
But the mysteries of the ultra-rich didn’t interest David. He was eager to be rid of the Wonderboy clone packed inside his ship.
Of the mining colonies David had scouted, only one had any semblance of green, if only faint stretches. Long, mad-made rows of green amid the vast red and iron-rich landscape that looked something like Mars, but brutally scarred from a massive asteroid impact thousands of years prior that cracked its side and splintered out deep caverns that stretched almost across the entire planet face. The thin atmosphere meant heavy radiation on the planet’s surface. The lack of life meant for blistering hot days and brutally cold nights.
But there were genetically modified shrubs and trees capable of withstanding incredibly harsh climates in an effort to alter a planet’s atmosphere. It was slow, but organic and more successful than more ambitious projects that only made environments worse. David was always amused by terraforming. In a space race noted for speed and urgency with hundreds of companies scrambling to find the next revolutionary breakthrough to rival the Chaos Machine, terraforming was instead a very patient investment in the future. Even the most ambitious attempts would take centuries to finally yield tangible results. An Earth-like planet with an atmosphere slowly building over thousands of generations of plants fighting for life within inhospitable soils. There was no technology that could accelerate the process, only the resilience of nature. If only humans had the same long-view investment on Earth, then David wouldn’t be so eager to relocate his family into the stars.
Light flashed, bent into a spectrum, then darkened. A large craft appeared outside the orbit of the planet below. The light show thanks to the Chaos Machine hacking reality. A swarm of fighters broke from an armada hovering over a cluster of space elevators. The fighters sped to the cruiser, flanked it on all sides, and escorted it toward the planet’s surface.
“There you are.”
“This is a dumb plan, David,” the computer said.
“You’re not helping.”
“I told fake Robin and she said it was a dumb plan too and she doesn’t want you to do anything until she can talk to you.” The computer almost sounded giddy.
“One. She’s not fake Robin. You are fake Robin. Two. What did I tell you about being a snitch?”
“Snitches get stitches?” the computer asked.
“Correct.”
Silence as David watched the cruiser enter the planet’s atmosphere, a red glow burning bright from the ship’s froward hull.
“I’d like to see you try, you son of a bitch,” the computer said.
***
With a promise of a salvaged X-Verse hard drive, David was allowed to land within a sub-surface docking station. Like most barren planets, the sand storms were devastating to almost all equipment, so operations were moved underground. Most sub-surface bases were cavernous labyrinths only lit artificially, but with abundant plant-life maintained throughout as well as an encouragement to keep pets. The illusion of a natural world was key to a sane mining colony, but even with all of the reminders of Earth shipped in, a colony was not the place for the weak-minded.
This mining colony was different. Long stretches of windowed ceilings streaked through the red dust, flanked on both sides by rows of desert palm trees and dense bushes that seemed to bow and peek into the colony like stray dogs desperate to be let inside. The complex was a web work of translucent underground walkways, using the daylight to save money on energy, but also give humans the sunshine that we’d grown accustomed to over the course of hundreds of thousands of years.
David stayed in the loading dock, keeping close to his ship. The on-board computer was programmed with an “all-or-nothing” protocol. If David didn’t get paid and anyone tried to forcefully board his ship, the computer would blow the engine and incinerate everything within a half-mile radius. It was extreme, but the threat was helpful in keeping negotiations polite.
From a rest area overlooking the docks, David watched small cargo freighters swooping in through the ceiling with massive steel doors open like the arms of a welcoming lover. Above David’s head, workers in bulky atmosphere suits were busy sweeping red dust off the windowed ceilings looking up into the red sky. A hell of a job, David thought, but worth it for the natural sunlight.
The rest area was empty and David had set up in the corner so he could watch his ship over one shoulder but also face the door, just to be safe. David noticed four sentries in atmosphere suits walking out onto the docks. They didn’t head directly for his ship, but he knew that’s why they were there.
“I am always amazed every time I see you still alive,” a voice called.
David turned to see an old man dressed in a military uniform with a vaguely naval feel. His name was Xing and he was most certainly not military, but as it was with many career pirates, adopting the image of war lord was better than just being known as an unrepentant thief. Xing’s once-handsome face was swept with a deep spider-web of scars from a radiation leak during a battle with a Regency supply ship. Unlike David, Xing didn’t appreciate the nuance of a calculated retreat and often fought forward toward certain death rather than losing face in front of his crew.
Though word spread years ago that Xing had retired into the job as enforcer for Willington, David was still surprised to see the old pirate in the role of a leashed attack dog.
Xing and David stood only a few feet away. Normal men would close the distance to shake hands, but smugglers and thieves were not normal men.
“I lied,” David announced. “I don’t have an X-Verse hard drive.”
“Is that so?”
“I’ve got something much, much better and I’m gonna need to talk to your boss in person,” David continued.
“And what makes you think he will want to waste his time with you?” Xing asked. Xing didn’t wear diplomacy comfortably, annoyed at having to fetch a smuggler. This was a job for a butler, not one of the most feared men in the universe. David wondered what Xing’s angle was, why he was under Willington’s command. Couldn’t just be about a comfortable retirement.
“Keep your men away from my damn ship,” David said. “You won’t pick up any readings, but believe me when I say that Willington wants to hear about what I have and that you don’t want to be the reason that Shahid Mamnoon bought my cargo instead.”
“That good?” Xing asked, looking from David to the loading bay below. He examined the ship. “Perhaps I could buy it from you instead?”
David’s adrenaline surged at the offer. He wasn’t tempted by it, but was reminded of how dangerous this man was. He didn’t understand why Willington would bring a pirate so deep into his organization.
“Thank you, but I would prefer to talk to Willington,” David said.
***
Xing and two sentries escorted David back to his ship. Though the doors were shut and the atmosphere normalized, the red dust still swirled off into the corners where workers attempted to brush it into piles and dump it into trash bags. The battle with dust would only end once the planet was successfully terraformed, and that wouldn’t be for hundreds of years. Not bad job security for a deep space janitor.
A dozen other sentries took position around David’s ship, armed with non-projectile stun guns, like a shotgun blasting out electricity which dispersed after a few feet so as not to do any damage to surrounding structures or electronics. David had been hit with one before. He didn’t much care for it.
The cargo bay doors eased open while David approached. He saw figures already inside. David paused.
“Damnit.”
“Keep moving,” Xing said.
David collected a deep breath and eyed the sentries around the ship, formulating a Plan B which would likely just consist of him darting off in a random direction before getting shot. Again.
A ladder descended from his ship to greet David. He grabbed a rung, sighed, and climbed up.
David knew Willington on site. Perfect artificial blonde hair and rich, bronzed skin. Suit as sharp as a thumb tack and a cologne that wafted like a pleasant smog. A near-permanent smile thanks to modern science that replaced age with a progressively smoother and more rigid facades. The resting face that looked young in photos, but looked as creepy as a wax statue in person. The ultra-rich were always like this—one part post-evolution, two parts Frankenstein’s monster.
“Robin? Still with me?”
“They’ve shut off all my emergency protocols,” the computer responded. “Be careful darling.”
David glanced across the sentries, then settled back on Willington.
“If this is an assassination attempt,” Willington began in a clipped lisp resulting from his overly taut facial skin. “Then I would suggest going back to looting shipwrecks.”
Sentries settled around David as Willington watched him in something that seemed like an evil grin, but could have just been gas.
“That’s not my bag,” David said. “I’m just here to sell you something.”
“A dead body?”
“Didn’t you look at him?” David asked.
Willington glanced toward the storage space where the Wonderboy clone remained. He then looked to a sentry who gave a subtle shake of the head.
“I don’t deal in bounties, my friend,” Willington said.
“This isn’t a bounty, but more of an artifact. I found it, free and clear. It is worth way more than what I am asking for it. If you’re not interested, fine, I’ll take it elsewhere. Trust me, though, you want to see him.”
Willington’s clear blue eyes were the only thing real about his face and they measured David carefully. Willington waved his hand toward the storage space, so David eased over, keeping his distance from the sentries and their stun guns. David pressed a red button set into the wall and a long shelf hissed out. The Wonderboy clone was wrapped in a clear plastic. Willington stepped around David with Xing close behind. They examined the body without saying a word. A long breath whistled out of Willington’s perfect nostrils. He motioned to the sentries and they began climbing down the ladder to leave Xing, Willington, and David alone.
“Of course I will need a record of the salvage operation,” Willington said.
“Of course. You’ll find it unaltered and complete.”
“How much?” Willington asked.
“How much you got?”
Willington released a smothered chuckle.
“Xing, fetch me my treasurer.”
Xing nodded and moved to the ladder. He allowed a quick glance of the Wonderboy clone, then caught David watching him. Xing smirked, then descended.
“Robin, queue up the salvage video please,” David called and a monitor near the cockpit door glowed. Willington moved to watch the video and David glanced back down at the clone.
The plastic near the clone’s mouth fogged. Then the plastic drew in as the dead man attempted a breath.
WHAT DO YOU DO?
Sell the clone and run OR Refuse the offer and escape with the clone?
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