Waking

Day Eleven

Paradise Station

When you're used to hearing purring and suddenly it's gone, it's hard to silence the blaring sound of sadness.

- Missy Altijd

It wasn't the pain that woke me. What woke me was the silence, the feeling of being on the edge of a vast cliff, the bottom, lost in darkness. The pounding thunder resolved itself into the beating of my pulse in my ears. I awoke looking for Darwin.

As excruciating as the hole in my shoulder was, I was able to finally manage the pain. A quick examination showed that the blood had stopped flowing. I would have examined it more closely if my hands had been free.

As it was, I was sitting in a chair in a medium sized loading dock, the large door leading into space tightly shut. I could smell the unique combination of lubricants and dust and pumped-in air. Despite the best efforts of the station's scrubbers and filters, microscopic dust always made its way to the rim of the station, slipping through cracks and crevices to follow gravity to the outer edge.

My hands were tied in front of me, and my waist and ankles secured to the chair. An experimental shake gave me two additional pieces of information. The chair was not clipped down, and my wound was severe. Even a little movement set my shoulder aflame.

If we were going to see much action here, I would have to get used to passing out. A lot.

I took a look around and noticed several empty chairs and more bindings. There were more guests invited to this party.

The lighting was bright yet sterile, the diffused white of a working area rather than the glowing yellow of a public space. There were no sharp shadows here, just the occasional dimming of light where that shadow should have been. In other words, there was nowhere for Darwin to hide.

"Darwin," I whispered hoarsely. I waited for some kind of response, but none came. I hated being separated from him. I was not sure how I would bear up under torture, but I knew that it would go better for me if he was there. So of course, he wasn't, through no fault of his own. He was probably desperately looking for me at that moment.

I looked at my wound again. No new blood. I ticked the time back over in my mind, and roughly calculated that I had been unconscious for about an hour or so. There was no way I could have healed that fast, so that meant that my assailant, Matsen, had my wound cauterized. While the procedure had saved my life, it also meant additional damage to the tissue and muscle around my shoulder. Even with surgery and replacements, I would likely be months in recovery if I didn't lose the shoulder altogether and have a synthetic one installed. As an independent, this was going to be very expensive. But as Joanie used to say, it's only money.

Thinking of Joanie should have brought on waves of regret and grief, but not this time. Instead, the memory of her lying there, bleeding and dying in my arms, was flat. Almost like I had watched a vid so many times that it had completely lost its impact on me. I was surprised by this. Perhaps it was the pain that was causing this distancing. Deep inside though, something told me that it wasn't the pain.

I sought out my vortex, digging deep, but my concentration was being broken by the pounding of the thunder in my ears.

A noise behind me pulled me out of my failing meditation, and the door to the loading bay opened. I heard someone enter the bay dragging something heavy. I craned my neck around as much as I could without causing another blackout, and from the corner of my eye I could just see a figure entering my field vision.

It was Matsen, and he was dragging someone by their arms into the room. He glanced back at me, and I could see that he was sweating profusely. The near earth normal gravity at this edge of the station was more than he was apparently used to, and he was having difficulty maneuvering the body of –

"Fred!" I said aloud. I was shocked. Matsen was dragging Fereydoon Bobak into the loading bay. From my angle, I could see no injuries on him.

"Is that his name?" Matsen asked, "I couldn't pronounce the other one. Damned foreigners should stay off my station. Say," he said looking back over at me as he continued to struggle with the inert form, "d'you think you could lend me a hand? If you aren't too tied up." He laughed at this, finding himself very funny.

"What do you want with Fred?" I asked.

He paused a moment, then dropped Fred unceremoniously to the floor. Fred's head bounced as it struck the floor, but from that height, I was hoping that it had done little damage.

Matsen stomped over to me, clearly uncomfortable walking in the heavier gravity. As soon as he was within reach, he swung back and struck a blow across my cheek. The sudden movement of my neck sent my shoulder into spasms of pain again.

"No talking unless I ask you a question."

The fact that he had asked me a question seemed to have escaped him. It seemed that his atomized brother wasn't faking his inability to keep a thought straight. I am told that repeatedly cloning from the same stock does that.

Matsen stomped back over to Fred and heaved him back up with great effort. He dragged him over to an empty chair then dropped him again, bouncing his head off the floor again. If Fred didn't have any injuries from this little trip, the very least he would have is a nasty hangover.

Matsen stood looking from Fred to the chair, apparently trying to figure out how he was going to lift the former into the latter. Finally, after a little too much deliberation, he shrugged his shoulders and elected to kick Fred over onto his stomach. He grabbed one of the bindings, then pulling Fred's arms behind his back, he secured them together.

Matsen looked over to me, noticing that I was watching.

"Keep an eye on him for me will ya? I have some other pickups to make." He laughed that slightly crazy laugh again and headed out the door behind me.

I tried waking Fred for the next twenty or so minutes, but no amount of yelling would make him stir.

Finally, the door opened again and I could hear more movement. Some grunting and banging around let me know that there were two people now. I could clearly distinguish Matsen's panting and groaning, but the second was also familiar. It took a second to place it.

Mr. Jones stumbled into my field of sight with Joy flung over her shoulder. Behind her, Matsen was dragging Markham with about as much grace as he did with Fred. He kicked her over as well and bound her hands behind her. He was a real gentleman.

Meanwhile, Mr. Jones had deposited an unconscious Joy into a chair and bound her to it. She wasn't terribly gentle, and I suspected that Joy would feel the bumps and bruises of her treatment soon after she came to.

Matsen then started struggling to heave the much larger Markham into another chair, but was having trouble getting her to cooperate. The human body is much heavier and more difficult to manage than people assume. It is not just the weight. The articulation of the limbs and the softness of limp muscles make it nearly impossible to do anything with great delicacy. Finally finished with Joy, Mr. Jones walked over to Matsen, and grabbed Markham by the shirt front. Being planet born and bred, Mr. Jones had the advantage of strength and lifted Markham into the chair. Matsen rushed around to the back of the chair and started tying her up.

Mr. Jones strode over to Fred. She grabbed him by the wrist bindings and I could hear a pop as she dislocated his shoulders. She ignored this and dragged him over to another chair.

"Matsen," she said, "hurry and get over here. Help me get him on the chair. We haven't much time."

Matsen ceased struggling with the knot around Markham's wrists, and came over to lend his shoulder to lift Fred into a chair. Fred was not a light weight, and Matsen was trembling with exhaustion by the time they had him seated and tied up. Mr. Jones gave the clone a disgusted look and shoved him roughly out of the way as she moved towards me. He went flying into Fred's chair and for a moment there was a tangle as he tried to extricate himself.

"What do you think you are doing?" he whined.

She spun on him mid-stride. "DON'T ANGER ME!" It seemed that it was already too late for that, however. "I didn't ask for you, you ridiculous little weed, and I will happily send you to join the rest of your unbottled family!"

He froze. Clearly someone else was in control here. Matsen looked very much like he regretted even taking on this contract. It would probably end up costing him his life, as it had his brothers. I had no great sympathy for him, however. He had chosen to be a gun for hire and by making that choice, he had chosen all of the consequences.

She checked the time on her mobile, and then looked at Matsen. "Wake them up. It is time."

Then she walked over and stood before me. She smiled that smile that meant trouble was coming. Reaching back, she swung back and struck me a full blow across the face.

"Where's your cat now?" she sneered.

I wished I knew.