Just doing my job

Star City is a very strange place to be: massive concrete building built back at the start of the space-race stand next to the latest glass-and-steal construction of the new Luna-departure building.

Our journey from Siberia had been relatively peaceful, if somewhat hectic: forced to abandon most of our possessions on the train, we’d had to stop in Moscow to re-supply, lowering our monetary reserves dangerously.

But we still had just enough money to buy three one-way tickets to Armstrong City.

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“What the hell is that American fool doing here?” Ren asked as we ducked into a service corridor just of the main departure lounge.

“Dammed if I know…” I poked my head around the corner and looked at the spectacle that had stunned us.

Jackson Smith stood in line for a vending machine, looking like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards: His normally perfect hair was unkempt and hung down over an unshaven face, his clothes looked dirty and rumpled, like he’d been sleeping in them. He carefully counted out the change in his hand before dropping a few coins into the machine and making his selection.

It was bizarre to see him like that, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on.

“Wait right here.” I motioned the other two to stay put as I drifted up into the air, using the nearest support pillar as cover as I made my way up to the maintenance walkway just inside the glass dome that covered the departure lounge. I drifted along the walkway, not wanting my footsteps to be heard below.

Jackson sat down on a bench at the base of another pillar and sipped at the soup he’d got from the vending machine, so I snuck down into a nearby corridor and approached him from behind. Up close it was even more apparent that he hadn’t washed or changed his clothes for some time.

“I am a stranger travelling from the East, seeking that which is lost.” I sat down round the corner from him.

“I am a stranger travelling from the West, it is I whom you seek.” Jackson responded without even looking up, “It’s been a long time since we used that code-phrase.”

“Yeah, I know: that CIA/MI6 job in Tripoli.” I scooted round the corner and sat next to him, “What the hells happened to you”

“I lost my job.”

“Why?”

“I was sent to apprehend two fugitives in LA. The higher ups decided to send a CNN film crew along to cover it, part of their new public-friendly face. Apparently getting kicked in the balls by a French anarchist in front of a global audience is considered ‘bringing the Agency into disrepute’.”

“Ouch!” I winced, “I hope you know that I had nothing to do with that: Ren can be a little unpredictable at times.”

“As would the other woman in your life: Charlotte was there when they fired me. I suspect that she was behind it.”

“Hey, she let them drop a nuke on me: nothing she does these days surprises me.”

“A nuke? The Australian incident?”

“I’ve not heard of another one going off recently.”

“The press is saying that it was something left behind by Aum Shinrikyo, the cult behind the Tokyo subway attack back in ’95.”

“Sounds like the work of the people who’re gunning for me these days.”

“Yeah, well, they black-listed me to the point where I couldn’t get a job as a security guard at Wal-Mart. I found myself under investigation by the IRS for tax evasion, which means my accounts have been frozen for the foreseeable future. I couldn’t pay the rent on my apartment, so the landlord kicked me out. It took what little cash I had to get a one-way ticket up to Luna: I have a few friends up there who may be able to get me a job working security on dark-side.”

“Kind of thinking the same thing myself: I’ve burned most, if not all, of my bridges down here.”

“What the hell is going on?”

“I wish I knew, I wish I knew…” I was cut off by a loud tone on the PA system.

“Attention all passengers: due to an explosion on the Lagrange station all flight too and from Luna have been cancelled. A message sent to the United Nations claims responsibility for the incident on behalf of the notorious superhuman anarchist known as ‘Ren’. The communication states ‘It is time for super-humanity to take its rightful place as rulers of this world’.” A voice boomed out in best BBC English, “When asked for a statement, the Sectary General said he was going to ask the General Assemble to pass a bill returning the Luna colonies to UN control. All passengers are asked to remain in the building until UN security personnel can process them.”

“That’s bull-shit!” I looked up at the huge TV screen covering one wall: it showed UN troops moving in on every spaceport on the planet capable of handling a ship that could make Luna orbit unassisted, “We need to get the hell out of here!”

“Maybe we should hand ourselves in?” Jackson asked, “Talk this over with the UN…”

“Wake up and smell the coffee!” I snapped at him, “You think they’re going to want to talk after they’ve killed god knows how many people up there?” I pointed to the screen as it changed to show twisted remains of the Lagrange station floating helplessly in space.

“Nathan, what’s going on?” Ren appeared at my side with her jacket hood pulled up, covering most of her face, “Where the hell did they get a photo of me from?”

“I hate to tell you this, but there are more than a few photos of you floating around the intelligence community.” I looked at Artemus, “Can you take us strait up to Luna?”

“No.” He shook his had, “Too far.”

“Then I suggest we find a more conventional exit and get the hell out of here.” I gabbed Jackson’s hand, “And that means you to.”

“What do we need with that fool?” Ren hissed.

“In case you didn’t realise, we are severally outnumbered: we need all the help we can get.” I looked her straight in the eyes, “Dr Lang handed this to me for one reason: I’m a suborn son-of-a-bitch who doesn’t let go of anything after I’ve gotten my teeth into it. I can be violent and unpleasant when I feel the need, and I never quit. You don’t like than, then you’re free to go your own way. But things as they are, I think our best hope is to stick together.”

Ren looked like she was going to protest, but instead nodded her head. I could tell she was angry with me; but I didn’t have time to play games with her.

We headed for the exit, hoping to get outside before the UN troops arrived. Unfortunately everyone else seemed to have the same idea, and we couldn’t get near the main doors.

“We should try going out the back.” Ren looked round to the nearly deserted check-in desks, “There has to be a way out onto the concourse from there.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I nodded as we started to make our way across the room and through the unmanned barriers leading to the spaceport proper.

We reached the first intersection before Ren stopped, holding her head and swaying on her feet. I glanced at Artemus and saw that he looked ready to collapse. Jackson started coughing badly and I finally realised what was going on.

“Gas!” I looked up at the air vents and saw the thin wisps of vapour escaping into the atmosphere, “They’re flooding the place with sedative gas.”

Ren nodded, scrambling for her bag that held the three gasmasks we’d picked up at an underground military surplus store in Moscow. I helped her get hers on, then moved to Artemus, who looked to be on the point of collapse. I held my own mask in my hands, looking at it: I was feeling no effects of the gas, unlike Jackson, who looked ready to keel over at any time.

“Take this.” I handed it over to the American, “Make sure you exhale fully as soon as you’ve got it on to get rid of any gas trapped inside.”

Jackson clasped the offered mask over his face, empting his lungs as totally as he could before drawing a deep breath. We had no idea if the masks would work, but it soon became apparent that they did: the three of them started looking better after just a few minuets.

“Nathan, why haven’t you passed out?” Ren asked, her voice distorted by her mask.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, looking back along the corridor to the main lounge: half the people there had collapsed onto the floor, terrifying everyone else. “It’s the same stuff they used on me in Canada. I don’t know what’s going on, but it seems to have stopped effecting me.”

“We need to get you to a doctor, soon.” Ren looked genuinely concerned, “Something’s happened to you, something I don’t understand…”

“Hey, you four!” A shouted voice cut her off, “Stay right where you are!”

I looked round to see two men dressed in black combat gear level sonic rifles at us. Their blue helmets gave them away as UN security, and judging by the gear they were packing, they were ready expecting to be up against superhumans.

“Guys, this is not something you want to get involved it.” I stepped between the UN storm troopers as the others, “Believe me, this is a whole other world of hurt.”

“On the floor, now!” The apparent lead ordered, his friend hurriedly calling for back up over the radio, “I SAID NOW!”

There was a faint hissing sound, followed by a blur of movement, and both men fell to the ground, hypodermic-darts sticking out of their arms. There was a low thud as a man dressed in a back all-in-one body suit dropped to the floor, holding a dart gun in each hand. He turned to look at me, thick grey hair surrounding a weathered oriental face. He looked at me like he was assessing a potential threat, but his voice was low and devoid of any emotion.

“Someone wants a word with you…”

To Be Continued...