24. The key
Brad opened his eyes to see nothing, the pitch black darkness made him question even if he is alive or conscious. Body hurt from everywhere, the micro-burns of the electrocution left its marks. He must be alive, pain should not be felt in what comes after, he thought. Trying to move around on the wet floor, feeling a heavy chain around his waist.
Dim light in front of him appeared as the bulkhead moved out of the way, shining like dawn on Earth blindingly. He recognized the room, he was still in the destroyed aquaponics farm.
- “Finally awake, oh, don’t bother, you can’t hack a good old fashioned welding.” — the voice came from his antagonist, Dan noticed as he was measuring up his unwanted belt.
- “The hell you want, man…” — Brad took a step toward the talking silhouette and felt the chain pulled back — “The hell you gonna get…”
- “Here is the deal, Brad, I just want to know who wants me dead, simple way we could find a deal, or you make it the harder way.” — Brad stayed silent in the dark while his hands felt a heavy lock near his belly, holding the chains together — “Thought so, the deal is, I give you the key to that if you tell me who is after me.”
- “Why would you let me go after I tried to kill you?”
- “Cause I am not a two bit thug, you have value, I give you value for it, your life, for your family. But the next time we meet, well, let’s say we should not, for your sake.”
- “Try to take it, won’t talk, can’t talk…” — Brad thought of his daughter and the remorse of letting her down like this, first to sell out, then to become a killer and the situation is just getting worse.
- “Tried already, anonymizers are a great tech, cleansing data remotely and so thoroughly is a marvelous engineering feat, yet the good old brain. You can’t make someone unsee what he saw, so tell me, who is it?” — again no response from Brad — “Hm, you need a bit more motivation, so I make you see.”
A click, an electric actuator turned the lights up, brighter than the noon in an icy desert and at the same time Brad’s body burned. His muscles contracted involuntarily, legs could not hold him up and fell back into the water which just made the pain worse.
A moment later darkness fell again and the pain went away. A sadistic contraption made out of the farm’s remains, a do-it-yourself torture chamber if you will. The silhouette of Dan seemed to lean back, like he talked with someone but this time Brad could not hear a word.
- “What do you think, how many times that implant of yours can restart your hearth?” — the silhouette turned to Brad again and indeed, Brad’s pulmonary implant sent warnings to his neurons about tissue degradation — “Funny, despite these fancy tech, the body is still so fragile.”
- “You scum…” — Brad could not finish his swearing before the lights came up and lost control over his body again in agony.
- “Sorry, you were saying?”
- “I don’t know who he was” — Brad sound turned desperate, the warnings showed him, maybe the next light is the last he ever sees and not his daughter’s face. — “But I can describe him, and I know something better for you, the key to the data.”
- “Listening.”
- “First, you have to promise me something. I don’t care about my life, but my daughter.”
- “Still listening.”
- “Promise me to get her out alive from here.”
- “It is a vain promise to make, not sure if anyone can make it out…”
- “Just promise you try! They were on a show, not far from here when the accident happened, the guy who wanted you dead told me the audience were moved to a hotel few decks below.”
- “I promise.” — the silhouette answered after a long pause — “Now tell me about the key and this guy.”
- “Sure, sure, the encryption was applied by the guy, however part of the keys were copied and stashed, one part is in my head, you already copied it, another is in the head of Fred Constello. He was tasked holding the manifest of those unmarked crates, to serve as confirmation for the buyers, but instead he rat out and…”
- “What are you ranting about? Fried your brain? Fred wasn’t a smuggler…”
- “Yeah, he wasn’t, but he had some memory to spare and I think the oldest one in the book, was on the hook for gambling debt.”
- “And the guy had you both on the leash? How he looks like?”
- “His voice was not distorted, you can use that to identify him. A bulky guy, short brown hair, a fish tattoo on his lower neck and usually wearing a turtle neck, think he wants to cover his tracks.”
- “Yet he does not distort his voice, is he incompetent or you think I am stupid?”
- “He used to bark orders not to take criticism, I think.” — as he finished, he heard a heavy splash near his feet.
- “Thanks for the info. Wait until I close the bulkhead or I fry you there.”
- “So you keep your word.”
- “Yeah, and I am so sorry.”
- “What are you talking about?”
- “I was at the show too, Steelgopher, the virtual singer, I think?”
- “What are you talking about!?”
- “No-one else got out before the dome blew out into space. Your friend lied to keep you on the leash.”
Brad just fell to the ground in disbelief and even forgot about the key just next to him. He was played, by all and everyone. The bulkhead closed and he was left in total darkness.
Took minutes to find the key and to remove the chains. Crawled to the bulkhead and routinely opened it with his implant. First he went to the hotel, now without any other cause, free of his imagined and literary shackles, just wanted to hold his daughter once more. But no-one saw them in the hotel, there were only a few injured staff member anyway, not thousands escaped from a disaster.
It was a long walk to face the bulkhead keeping atmosphere in and the vacuum of space out. Not because of the distance, but each step getting heavier as he approached. Finally stood front of the glass leading to another door, the back of the ground floor of the theatre. He got the tickets for them, working triple shifts for months, and still he could just afford two discounted seats in the last row.
He could not remember when the first bulkhead opened and closed, he just saw his wife’s lifeless face in the last row seating. Somehow he could not cry, he could not process yet.
- “Do you believe in fate?”
Brad wasn’t even scared of the voice, wasn’t even sure if it is real or he started hallucinating. The implants were sending a batch of warnings, registering the unmistakable signs of depression. He looked into the blue eyes of the young lady left of him, their cold stares hanged in the moment.
- “No, it was my own making.”
- “Which You can make right.”
- “How?” — drops filled Brad’s eyes as he thought through all his choices.
- “Always the engineer, that is a question for another time. Just give me your hand, if you want to make it right.” — Brad felt a tender warmth looking into those eyes, reminding him of staring at the star Betelgeuse once on the bridge of his previous posting holding his wife’s hand.
- “Who are you?” — not even waiting for an answer, Brad took her hand and the soothing warmth enclosed him slowly.
- “Call me Ava. I will show you the way.”
The vacuum did not feel cold. The last bulkhead separating Brad and his family opened and he walked to them, both strapped to their seats. As his body deformed under no pressure and the last efforts his implants took to keep him alive, he did not feel any of it. Only the warmth, saw the smile on his daughter’s face and asked her:
- “How was the concert, my dear?”
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