PROLOGUE: Spaced
Mohammed Little felt the sting of the injection in and cried out, not so much in pain but more in an acute sense of frustration that he had let himself get caught. He strained to wrench himself free, but twin Asian women of Amazonian size held him in a vice-like grip that he never ceased to find amazing even though he was built like a beefy Terrícola <Earthling>.
And then the drug in his veins took hold, and it was like he was hit in the face with a warm towel and the air around him suddenly seemed thick, underwater. His thought processes slowed, his vision distorted, and all the fight went out of his muscles. The twins shoved him hard to the deck, and in the simulated 1-G of the Delta-V of his ship, the Artemis, his head hit the floor much harder than if he were back home on Luna. Or back on Ukiyo-E. Or even back on Mars.
The pain from the impact quickly washed away in the tide of the drug that steadily but slowly crept in along the corners of Mohammed’s mind. He could not summon the fortitude to get off the floor.
In the corner of his fuzzed vision Mohammed saw Fisher angrily throw the hypodermic down. His voice sounded like it was muffled by a pillow: “How could you let this happen!?”
Angelina Anibarro’s voice also floated to Mohammed, though he could not see her. “Damn you, Fisher! How was I supposed to—”
Fisher cut her off, “It was you who insisted on taking him prisoner, not killing him outright!”
Angelina: “No killing, remember?”
Fisher: “El Diablo take you, Anibarro! We never expected to deal with un Juez Mayor del Concilio Lunar de la Justicia <a Senior Justice of the Justice Council of Luna> like this.”
Mohammed saw Fisher ball his hands up into fists. He only somewhat realized they were talking about whether or not to kill him. Fisher finally spat out, “We can’t afford to keep this man any longer. Risa, Lisa, let’s take him to the airlock, break his neck, and dump him.”
Angelina came into Mohammed’s view, her face dark with rage. “You filthy monkey’s whore-son bastard!” she screamed at Fisher. Mohammed’s drunken mind admired her skillful cursing. “Fisher, you promised me—”
Fisher glared at her with a smoldering fury. “If you don’t like it we can drop you off on the nearest God-forsaken rock out there and you can find your own way home. We’re in this all the way.”
Angelina’s eyes raged at Fisher, but the full Earth gravity after almost a year on Ukiyo-e was taking a toll on her. She reached for the bulkhead to support herself as her chest heaved to take in enough air to let her cope with her new weight. Finally she gasped out, “I’ll not help you murder a man,” and staggered through a doorway, disappearing.
Fisher turned back to the twins. “Let’s get going.”
Lisa and Risa scooped Mohammed up without seeming to notice that he weighed six times his usual weight. They all took the lift down to the storage deck where the airlock was located as Fisher called Aquino, who was piloting the ship, and told him what they were planning. The lift arrived and Mohammed was dragged roughshod across the deck and deposited on his posterior in front of the interior airlock door. Fisher keyed it open.
Upon seeing this, a part of Mohammed’s brain deep down registered that he was about to be killed. Killed dead.
Lisa and Risa looked at each other, silently deciding which one would break Mohammed’s neck. Risa stepped aside and Lisa bent down behind him.
That last remaining part of Mohammed’s brain sent a final jolt of adrenalin through him, and as Lisa’s arms snaked around his neck he grabbed one of them and tugged. He had only the strength of an eight-year-old by this point, but it was enough. Lisa was caught off-guard and off-balance. Earth gravity took her and slammed her hard to the floor. Mohammed heard Risa gasp as he swung his leg around like a club and swept her legs out from under her. She landed painfully on her left side.
Mohammed unthinkingly lifted himself and lurched through an open door. He spun and saw Fisher’s shocked face in the corridor outside. Mohammed jabbed a numb fist into the control panel and the door slid close. He looked out the small window in the door and saw Lisa helping Risa to her feet.
Fisher recovered his composure and smiled at Mohammed. His voice came to Mohammed through the door's intercom. “Space him! NOW!”
Lisa moved for the control panel outside Mohammed’s door.
Mierda! Mohammed’s mind shouted at him. He looked around him. You’re in the airlock! They’re going to space you! Get in your suit, quick!
Mohammed turned and almost tripped over his own feet. His adrenalin surge was fast receding and the drug’s drunken effects taking over again. He stumbled to the wall where the ship’s suits were stowed. Numb, uncoordinated hands dragged one out of its bin.
He could vaguely hear the ship’s voice over the intercom: “I indicate Officer Mohammed Little is in the airlock. Status: alive, no suit. I advise against—”
Lisa cut him off, “Emergency override, Justice protocol authorization CML3961774. Emergency evacuation.”
The lights in the airlock turned red and a warning siren began blaring.
The part of Mohammed’s mind that still worked automatically began running through the suit checklist as it forced his dumb body to follow orders as best it could and stuff itself in the suit.
Artemis began a countdown.
Mohammed lost precious seconds putting the gloves on the wrong hands. He picked up the helmet and lost his footing, jamming his knees into the deck. He didn’t feel it. He still had the helmet in his hands. He forced his head into it and slid the seal closed. He felt the hiss of the suit’s air turning on.
The outer airlock door opened all at once and ejected the air in the airlock forcefully into empty space, pulling Mohammed with it. As he tumbled towards the opening his groggy mind managed to shout, Grab something! A hand flew out and his gloved fingers wrapped around something, something that was immediately loosened from the wall slot in which it rested and came with Mohammed as his own ship flung him clear into space.
He tumbled into the void. The stars streaked across his field of vision. His own ship came into view, engines bright as it accelerated rapidly away from him, then moved out view as he continued tumbling.
His last thought before losing consciousness all alone in the infinite vacuum was, How did I get myself into this one?
And then there was sleep.
And then the drug in his veins took hold, and it was like he was hit in the face with a warm towel and the air around him suddenly seemed thick, underwater. His thought processes slowed, his vision distorted, and all the fight went out of his muscles. The twins shoved him hard to the deck, and in the simulated 1-G of the Delta-V of his ship, the Artemis, his head hit the floor much harder than if he were back home on Luna. Or back on Ukiyo-E. Or even back on Mars.
The pain from the impact quickly washed away in the tide of the drug that steadily but slowly crept in along the corners of Mohammed’s mind. He could not summon the fortitude to get off the floor.
In the corner of his fuzzed vision Mohammed saw Fisher angrily throw the hypodermic down. His voice sounded like it was muffled by a pillow: “How could you let this happen!?”
Angelina Anibarro’s voice also floated to Mohammed, though he could not see her. “Damn you, Fisher! How was I supposed to—”
Fisher cut her off, “It was you who insisted on taking him prisoner, not killing him outright!”
Angelina: “No killing, remember?”
Fisher: “El Diablo take you, Anibarro! We never expected to deal with un Juez Mayor del Concilio Lunar de la Justicia <a Senior Justice of the Justice Council of Luna> like this.”
Mohammed saw Fisher ball his hands up into fists. He only somewhat realized they were talking about whether or not to kill him. Fisher finally spat out, “We can’t afford to keep this man any longer. Risa, Lisa, let’s take him to the airlock, break his neck, and dump him.”
Angelina came into Mohammed’s view, her face dark with rage. “You filthy monkey’s whore-son bastard!” she screamed at Fisher. Mohammed’s drunken mind admired her skillful cursing. “Fisher, you promised me—”
Fisher glared at her with a smoldering fury. “If you don’t like it we can drop you off on the nearest God-forsaken rock out there and you can find your own way home. We’re in this all the way.”
Angelina’s eyes raged at Fisher, but the full Earth gravity after almost a year on Ukiyo-e was taking a toll on her. She reached for the bulkhead to support herself as her chest heaved to take in enough air to let her cope with her new weight. Finally she gasped out, “I’ll not help you murder a man,” and staggered through a doorway, disappearing.
Fisher turned back to the twins. “Let’s get going.”
Lisa and Risa scooped Mohammed up without seeming to notice that he weighed six times his usual weight. They all took the lift down to the storage deck where the airlock was located as Fisher called Aquino, who was piloting the ship, and told him what they were planning. The lift arrived and Mohammed was dragged roughshod across the deck and deposited on his posterior in front of the interior airlock door. Fisher keyed it open.
Upon seeing this, a part of Mohammed’s brain deep down registered that he was about to be killed. Killed dead.
Lisa and Risa looked at each other, silently deciding which one would break Mohammed’s neck. Risa stepped aside and Lisa bent down behind him.
That last remaining part of Mohammed’s brain sent a final jolt of adrenalin through him, and as Lisa’s arms snaked around his neck he grabbed one of them and tugged. He had only the strength of an eight-year-old by this point, but it was enough. Lisa was caught off-guard and off-balance. Earth gravity took her and slammed her hard to the floor. Mohammed heard Risa gasp as he swung his leg around like a club and swept her legs out from under her. She landed painfully on her left side.
Mohammed unthinkingly lifted himself and lurched through an open door. He spun and saw Fisher’s shocked face in the corridor outside. Mohammed jabbed a numb fist into the control panel and the door slid close. He looked out the small window in the door and saw Lisa helping Risa to her feet.
Fisher recovered his composure and smiled at Mohammed. His voice came to Mohammed through the door's intercom. “Space him! NOW!”
Lisa moved for the control panel outside Mohammed’s door.
Mierda! Mohammed’s mind shouted at him. He looked around him. You’re in the airlock! They’re going to space you! Get in your suit, quick!
Mohammed turned and almost tripped over his own feet. His adrenalin surge was fast receding and the drug’s drunken effects taking over again. He stumbled to the wall where the ship’s suits were stowed. Numb, uncoordinated hands dragged one out of its bin.
He could vaguely hear the ship’s voice over the intercom: “I indicate Officer Mohammed Little is in the airlock. Status: alive, no suit. I advise against—”
Lisa cut him off, “Emergency override, Justice protocol authorization CML3961774. Emergency evacuation.”
The lights in the airlock turned red and a warning siren began blaring.
The part of Mohammed’s mind that still worked automatically began running through the suit checklist as it forced his dumb body to follow orders as best it could and stuff itself in the suit.
Artemis began a countdown.
Mohammed lost precious seconds putting the gloves on the wrong hands. He picked up the helmet and lost his footing, jamming his knees into the deck. He didn’t feel it. He still had the helmet in his hands. He forced his head into it and slid the seal closed. He felt the hiss of the suit’s air turning on.
The outer airlock door opened all at once and ejected the air in the airlock forcefully into empty space, pulling Mohammed with it. As he tumbled towards the opening his groggy mind managed to shout, Grab something! A hand flew out and his gloved fingers wrapped around something, something that was immediately loosened from the wall slot in which it rested and came with Mohammed as his own ship flung him clear into space.
He tumbled into the void. The stars streaked across his field of vision. His own ship came into view, engines bright as it accelerated rapidly away from him, then moved out view as he continued tumbling.
His last thought before losing consciousness all alone in the infinite vacuum was, How did I get myself into this one?
And then there was sleep.
Next: Chapter One: Dearly Beloved
© 2005 by Christopher Grant Harris
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