The Forgotten Planet
Chapter 12 – Boss-Battle

We were still well below the cloud line at 6:15, and from the transparent panel outside our cabins we had a breathtaking view of the Great Desert of Ix as it crashed down into the New Aegean Sea. Endless kilometers of sandy coast stretched out below us, with mansions and hotels looking like small dark pebbles interspersed at random intervals in a child’s sandbox.

Adan had that goofy look on his face that usually accompanied heavy drinking, but as far as I could tell, he was sober. Maxine glowed next to him in a black dress that was held on each shoulder by a scant thread of fabric and had a hem showed off her legs just above the knee. I didn’t take Max to be a dress kind of girl. Live and learn. All us guys were dressed in the same clothes we’d been wearing earlier, though I’d thrown a leather jacket on to take the edge off the air conditioning.

Russell looked down at Poochy with a sneer and said, “The dog’s supposed to stay in your cabin.”

“What? I don’t want him peeing in there,” Adan replied. Russell shook his head but didn’t argue the point.

“I taught him to use the toilet,” I said.

“You did not,” Adan said with an arched eyebrow.

“I did,” I replied honesty. “I taught him to roll over too. He works really well for macadamia nuts.”

“Don’t tell me you raided the minibar,” Russell said. “That stuffs not free you know.”

“Ok, I won’t tell you,” I replied, not daring to make eye contact.

Russell sighed much louder than necessary. Feeding a dog expensive nuts is worthy of a small sigh at best. “Come on,” Russ said, “let’s go eat.”

The tone of voice and body language of the big man didn’t really allow for disagreement. Besides, I really didn’t want to see a hangry Russell. Russ is a man capable of great feats of violence at the best of times, and I’m well aware of the Castell propensity for sparking irritation. As far as I was concerned, we were living on borrowed time at this point.

“If there aren’t pancakes, I’m having a heart-to-heart with the chef,” Adan said as he threw an arm around me. I could tell by the smirk on his lips he wasn’t angry about my little ruse.

“I’m sure they’ll have something better than pan-fried starch,” I replied.

“I’m not sure that’s even possible,” then he jerked like he was hit and added, “unless maybe they’re deep-fried first.” That thought made him go all quiet and contemplative.

We fell in behind Max and Russ, and I squirmed a little to let Adan know that our brotherly cuddle-time was at its conclusion. I’d given him a full thirty seconds, which was about twenty-nine more than I was comfortable with. I’m just fine with keeping my feelings locked away like a compressed zip file buried in a hidden sub-folder. Adan gave me his version of a playful shake before returning his hands to his own person.

After that, his focus returned to Max. Within a few steps, the sway of his head fell right in line with the rocking motion of Maxine’s hips. Maxine had swapped her combat boots for those pointy-toed lift shoes the female corporate-types were so fond of, and a quick bit of back-of-the-envelope calculus told me that the way she placed one foot in front of the other as we crossed the hallway was mechanically inefficient to say the least.

Adan caught me staring and jumped to the wrong conclusion. He nudged me and said, “Nice, right?”

I felt my face get hot before my ’Seven could react. “That’s not what I was looking at,” I answered. He winked at me and nodded. I opened my mouth to explain about Q angles and patellar tendon stress, but realized it wouldn’t do any good. “Yeah, nice.” That made him smile and pat me on the back, so I guess I made the right choice.

After passing cabin fifteen, the hallway opened into a great room that the local network told me encompassed approximately forty percent of the elevator car. The roof peaked at five meters high at the apex of the arched steel beams, and the walls were a combination of steel partition and transparent aluminum windows. The windows were heavily tinted to cut down on the glare, but I figured that would change once we cleared the heliosphere.

Brown leather couches and red cloth chairs were positioned with coffee and end tables into discreet conversation nooks, and beyond that was a dining hall that contained a number of rectangular tables formed from slabs of veined hardwood. A solitary man dined at the far table, while six other Terrans stood nearby looking fidgety. They all looked up when we entered.

I would have chalked up the attention to having a cowboy, a bombshell and scary giant in our party, but the looks we were getting were a little too clinical and the lookers a little too hard-looking in their designer suits that bulged in obvious weapon concealment places. Plus, an active sonar sweep told me that either all six fit looking bodies had high blood pressure, or they were in fight-or-flight mode.

“Dude, somethings up,” I whispered to Adan.

Russell looked back and hissed, “Keep your mouths shut and let me handle this.”

I looked back to where we’d entered, and a man and woman in dark suits were blocking our escape with what appeared to be pistol-gripped shotguns. As far as I knew, none of us was armed, and even if Russ had a hidden weapon, the odds were ridiculously against us.

I winced as the sound of ocean waves and the calls of costal birds crashed in my auditory canals, and I knew that my amygdala was subconsciously sending panicked signals to my ’Seven, which in turn was doing what it could to decrease my stress level. I lowered the volume a few clicks and threw my ’Seven into gear binding epinephrine and cortisol. After a few seconds the thundering of my heart in my ears had dulled to soft drumbeat.

Russell bee-lined to the man dining at the head of the only occupied table. He was the only person in the room that appeared not to have noticed us. After a quick intake of air, Russell said, almost conversationally, “Mr. Vance... It’s good to see you, sir.”

Vance was a small, dark skinned Terran with close cropped, greying hair and a pencil-thin mustache. He wore a slightly shiny suit, a collared dress shirt and a modest tie, all black. His purple pocket square was the only hint of color. He was in the process of cutting a chunk off a bloody steak, and he stopped long enough to look up and smile. It was the cold look of a predator.

“Is it?” His voice was slightly falsetto. “Hmm, if you say so.” He looked back down and carefully trimming the gristle off the edge before taking a bite. Gotta keep that saturated fat intake to a minimum when you lead a stressful life. The seven men and one woman that were obviously his people closed in until they formed a loose circle around us. “I’d hoped to see you and Max at the estate this evening, but a little birdie told me I might find you here.” He sipped the wine in his glass and added, “But where are my manners? Please,” Vance gestured to the empty seats. “Join me. We’re having ribeye steaks and scalloped potatoes this evening.”

Russell swallowed hard. “Sir, if I can just explain-”

“Don’t make me ask again, Russell,” Vance said calmly.

Russell nodded and pulled out a chair.

“Mitchel,” Maxine cooed, “I’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement...” She put her hands on the table and leaned over, testing the structural integrity of the thin cotton material that held in all that womanly flesh.

“Oh, Maxine,” Vance said with a chuckle. “That’s just rich.” He looked at the man closest to him and said, “If she speaks again, shoot her in the head.”

The rest of us pulled up seas and sat. Reasoning with him didn’t seem to be in the cards and besides, the food smelled fantastic. If I was going to die, I figured it might as well be on a full stomach.

Within moments, waiters in crisp white coats brought out plates of food and poured us each a glass of red wine. The meat was so tender, I wasn’t sure it even came from the same animal as I was used to eating on the rare days we’d splurged for steaks. I didn’t realize at the time that there were different cuts of beef – I just assumed cows were a tough, gamey meat. We were served vegetables as well, and I pushed mine into a neat little pile in the corner of my plate where they wouldn’t be in the way. I wasn’t particularly worried about the long-term health benefits of fibrous greens.

The meal went by conversation-free. Only the clinking of heavy silverware on the white, bone China punctuated the silence. I knew exactly what this little show was all about. Vance was a criminal, but he was apparently a gentleman as well. He was showing us a bit of curtesy before dealing with us and moving on to whatever more important matters were on his crime lord agenda.

I’d accepted that Vance was planning on killing us, but I wasn’t resigned to my fate. Since the moment I’d stepped into the room and felt that something was amiss, I’d began to assault the station’s security. It didn’t take me long to bypass the firewall thanks to a lazy command-and-control backdoor that some ancient white hat had left behind. I had so many open tabs dancing in front of my eyes that I could barely see the food on my plate. Unfortunately, I wasn’t finding a ton of options available.

There were no internal security countermeasures, or I would have deployed them without thinking twice. I could lower the O2 content in the room, but then we’d all just pass out and asphyxiate. Or, if I wanted to kill us all fast, I could just depressurize the cabin. I just wasn’t finding any solutions that would end with us still breathing.

Vance waited until after the dessert round – a baked chocolate mousse paired with a rich red dessert wine the waiter called Port – before bringing up the record.

“Well gentleman,” Vance inclined his head to Max, “and lady. I assume you’ve enjoyed your meal. Now it’s time we got down to business.” He dabbed his mouth with his cloth napkin and placed it his empty dessert plate. “You see, I’m a bit of an Earth buff, and I was really looking forward to adding that particular record to my collection.”

“Listen, Mr. Vance...” Russell started, but the upturned hand of our host stopped him flat. “Do any of you know the history of the golden records?” Vance asked.

We all dutifully shook our heads no. “Well then,” he said magnanimously, “let me educate you. The golden records were produced at the dawn of the Terran space program. And I’m not talking about A-Drives or even antimatter engines. These records date back to the era of solid fuel rockets and moon landings. The United States – which was one of the founding countries in the organization that eventually became the Terran Confederation – sent probes with gold records attached to their hulls out into the cosmos as an introduction to any alien civilizations that happened to come across them.”

I was dumbfounded by this. Who in their right mind would think that sending a blank invitation out amongst the stars was actually a good idea? Terran’s have never even been able to get along with each other. What made Earthlings of that era think that other civilizations would be any different?

“A trading ship happened across the craft’s beacon in the wastes of interstellar space, and the ship’s captain was smart enough to recognize the object as an artifact of Earth. Apparently, his crew wanted to melt the record down for the gold content, but the captain instead contacted his acquaintance Mr. Blane, who knew from past conversations that I would be interested in such an artifact.” He stopped to sip his wine. No one bothered to speak in the interim. I think we could all feel our time was almost up.

Vance continued, “We settled on a fair price and I sent two of my most trusted people out on a milk run of an assignment.” He took a hard look at Russell and Max, and then went on. “That’s when things got confusing. First, I was led to believe that the record had been stolen. Then, when I sent those same trusted people to retrieve my supposedly stolen property, they try to leave the planet without so much as a goodbye. We had to shake down a local fence named Williams...”

I looked at Adan and saw the flash of anger, then in one quick and fluid nerve-juiced motion, the guard standing behind him was on the ground and Adan had a shotgun in his hands. It was pointed squarely at Vance’s face.

“You better not have hurt him,” Adan said flatly.

The remaining guards pointed various firearms and plasma weapons at Adan, but the crime boss just smiled and shook his head at his people.

“Ah, so he’s a friend,” Vance said conversationally. “No, apparently all it took was the offer of assorted thespian costumes,” he scrunched up his face in confusion, “I didn’t quite understand that part, and regardless he wasn’t exactly honest. He said you were leaving by ship from the Tarnac Starport. My people didn’t take his information at face value, but once we knew you were running it was just a matter of covering all the local exit points. You were seen boarding the elevator, and so I decided to see you off-planet personally.”

Vance stood up and rested his palms on the table. Adan was still pointing the gun generally in his direction, but Vance didn’t seem to care. “I need to ask you a question, and it’s important that you are honest with me. Do you still have the record?”

“No sir,” Russel answered. “It was stolen from us by a smart-assed Servine woman.”

For the first time, irritation showed on Vance’s face.

“Boss,” Maxine soothed, “we can get it back. We’re tracking the thief as we speak.”

A gun swung towards Max, but Vance raised a hand stopped the man from following through on his earlier command. He sat back in his chair looking absolutely crestfallen. After a moment he came back to himself, and with a backward wave of his hand, he said, “Put them in the docking chamber and blow the airlock.”

Russell shot up but two goons were on him. As he struggled in their grip, Adan said, “Call them off Vance, unless you want a few extra orifices’.”

Vance said in an even voice, “Before you threaten someone with a firearm, you should make sure the grip doesn’t have a biometric lock.”

Adan pulled the trigger, and nothing happened. “Oh, Damn,” he said quietly.

“I don’t bluff Mr. Castell,” Vance said without looking up. “Jamal, perhaps you’d like to be the one to retrieve your own gun?”

“Adan!” I yelled. He turned just quick enough to take the blow off the side of his head, rather than the base of his skull. By this point Russell was buried under three men, and another was on the ground with Maxine kneeling on his throat. Her steak knife was in her hand and making a slow figure eight towards the remaining armed guards, who were all smart enough to stay back with their weapons drawn.

I just stayed where I was. I’m well aware of my strengths and weaknesses. I had two red buttons flashing in front of me. One purged the oxygen, and one blew the docking door. The docking button was on a dead-man’s switch linked to my heart, just in case.

A pale man that was 90% facial hair and muscle mass had Adan’s arms pinned behind his back. Jamal got two body-shots in before Adan kicked him in the groin hard enough to make me wince, and he crumpled like paper. I was about to start making threats when suddenly something Vance said finally clicked, and I had option number three. I jumped at it.

“Mr. Vance, sir?” He turned tired eyes on me. It was probably the first time he’d bothered to look at me since I arrived. It’s okay, I’m used to being underestimated. I felt hands grab my jacked, and as I was yanked out of my chair, I yelled, “I backed up all the data on the record.”

His eyes went wide, and he yelled, “Stop!” The man didn’t let go of me, but he did ease the manhandling somewhat and the rest of the room went eerily quiet. Maxine shook off the arms of the man and woman who had been holding her. She had a nosebleed, while their faces both looked like tenderized meat. The hairy power lifter released Adan’s arms, and my brother swung around, and head butted the man’s nose. His legs turned to water, and he dropped. I doubt Vance even noticed.

Instead, he looked at me with eyes that chilled me to the bone. I think I actually shivered. “Son, if you’re lying to me, I will find a much slower and less pleasant way to kill you than suffocating in the vacuum of space.”

“I believe you, sir,” I said, and I really did. Russell slowly got to his feet, along with one of the men he’d been fighting. The other two were lying very still. I swallowed hard and continued, “There’s almost thirty songs in total. I also have, like, an hour of people saying hello in a bunch of different languages and all sorts of crazy sounds and pictures.”

“Well?” Vance said neutrally, holding his palms up.

A demonstration then. “Hold on.” I scanned the room and found the speaker system. “Here, this one’s my favorite.”

The Jazz song I like came through the PA system, filling the room with piano and a raspy voice complaining about the party being over. Adan groaned and I pretended I didn’t hear him. Vance closed his eyes and smiled as he listed to the music. “That’s Louis Armstrong,” he said a minute later with, what could have been a trick of the lighting but appeared to me to be a tear in his eye. Whatever it was, he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “I’ve never heard this song before, but his voice is very distinct.”

“The record really was stolen,” I said after the song had ended.

“And the part about tracking the thief?” he asked, though I figured he already knew the answer.

“Pure fabrication,” I answered honestly. “I have no idea where she is or what she did with it.”

He nodded, then sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. I felt like we were close, so I took a chance.

“There was a map on it as well.” He turned his head and looked at me with renewed interest. I continued, “To Earth.”

He looked like he wanted to say something then shook his head and looked back at the ceiling for a few more moments. The room was quiet except for the groans of injured guards and the ancient melody. Finally, he said, “It would break my heart to see a ruined Earth.” He looked at me again and asked, “Are you going?” I nodded and he did as well. “Good. I hope you find it. I hope there’s something left.”

He looked at Russell and said, “I just think it would be for the best if we never saw each other again.”

“Yes sir, I understand,” Russell said. His left eye was swollen and half-closed.

“How would you like the data?” I asked.

“You have an implant obviously,” Vance said. I nodded. “I’ll have the head engineer fetch something.”

“The polite Mr. Castell will stay to finish the transaction,” Vance said to the room. “The rest of your party needs to be out of my sight in the next thirty seconds.”

Adan looked at me. “I’m fine bro,” I said. His look became more questioning. “Really, we’re chill.”

Russell was already halfway to the hallway, and Maxine was slowly backing away with one hand wrapped in Adan’s. He nodded and turned to leave, but not before giving Vance a look that was more promise than threat.

When he left the room, Vance said, “Unconditional love is a rare thing in this day and age. Your brother will kill me if I harm you. Even if he died in the process.” It wasn’t really a question, but I still nodded. “It’s a moot point – you’re in no danger.” I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Do you drink?”

“Today I do,” I answered.

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