Quirk
Another day, another shilling. That's the way life worked on any other world. Denizens of Traxus IX, however, more or less worked for free—a different kind of slavery.
But survival needs were met. They had the essentials. They had breatheable air, potable water, tolerable food, and hopefully some modest shelter capable of withstanding the cold and the wind.
Everyone had their frivolities as well. Alcohol was a favored commodity. For the more daring, narcotics and other more restricted contraband was certainly accessible with cunning or the right connections inside the factory-cities. In a way, life here could be quite liberating in comparison to how other colonies functioned, their societal norms. Certain people fit right in. Most of life's worries were simply nonexistent at Traxus IX. Paying bills, keeping in good standing with your bank, staying in line with your taxes, paying down that credit balance, maintaining an upstanding reputation around the office, and worrying about the safety and well-being of loved ones...none of it applied. The only thing that mattered, that had any weight, was instinct and a strong propensity toward survival.
Some actually loved it, the adrenal rush and uncertainty of it all. Any day could be one's last. Every day there was something to witness if non-sheltered existence was choice. Most lived without rules and without much consequence to their actions, able to do anything while bound to the desolate sphere of Traxus IX. Their own boss; no one could tell them anything.
The only rule was work or starve. Beyond that…? No rules. Keep THI's production on the up-and-up and you'd be rewarded with everything you needed to live by, plain and simple.
The night had already surrendered to day as their shift ended. Everyone followed Justin to the facility entrance where they were met with a face full of gloomy luminosity, sun habitually rendered arrears of the clouds. The world seemed a bit less bright as each year passed, the result of a climactic phase shift called global dimming. More and more particulate entered the troposphere from the planet's industry, the clouds themselves a cocktail of part water molecule, part chemical vapor, part manmade fallout. A volatile mix. "I think I will stay tonight," Bill said, stopping short of the bay door.
"Going to give prayer?" Pete asked.
"Yes. I'll sleep here."
"Alrighty then, your holiness. We'll pick you up next time around." Justin said good-naturedly, surprisingly. He walked off.
Everyone waited outside for Justin as he warmed up the Mongoose. They readied themselves for the ride back, donning overcoats and ski boots and gloves. Once Pete and Ken were situated in their skis, Justin moseyed the ATV outside the bay doors as they procedurally closed behind him. Pete and Ken grabbed an end-link of the fan out rope attached to the trailer hitch. "How are we on fuel?" Pete asked, wiping dust off his visor.
"Should be okay." Justin retorted. "Chris, hop yourself on the 'Goose so we can get back to the igloo. I need my Z's today."
"Yeah," Chris said in agreement, "that Carsa fellow sure worked you up. You look like you need the rest."
"Shut up, get on."
Chris didn't say another word as he took pillion.
Justin was the first to wake. For a moment, he just stared up at the metal ceiling of his igloo-like structure. He was just inside of the atrium this time, sprawled out on the red velvet couch. It was some of the best sleep he'd had in months. Pete was likely on the cot. He'd rarely let anyone else claim it for a night. That left Ken and Chris, undoubtedly zonked out in sleeping bags over a bare, dirt floor. Poor bastards, but better them than him. He shifted position under the wool covers, almost fetal to get some warmth going. His joints were cold-soaked for however many hours he'd rested, groaning with every move made. He thought about just lying there for a whole day. It was so easy to, but then again, that got boring very quickly. And he'd rather see Layla's beautiful face than stay here. He would work up the nerve to talk to her. He had to. It was the only good thing going for him—now and probably ever.
Bill was back at the city, reciting prayers to all who'd attend. By the amount of pale light seeping through the metal cracks of the door seams, Bill would probably be expecting Justin's ATV soon. Justin might just bless Bill himself if he was in good graces with whatever God was out there, if there was a God out there. But Justin figured long ago that God wasn't on his side, or had just forgotten about him—as He did so many others in the universe. Maybe Traxus IX was the Devil's domain.
He shook off his musings, peeled away his covers and stretched before rising up from the dank couch. Goosebumps spread across his entire skin like a flesh-eating Staph infection. It was utterly cold in the igloo, but at least Pete had remembered to close the front door this time so there was no wind cutting into the hollow of his bones. How Pete could stand this cold was anyone's best guess.
Justin dressed himself in the warmest clothes he could find and left for the outside. The outermost door of the igloo screeched open slowly as all other doors did. One of these days he'd steal some lubricant from a stockpile so the incessant noises would diminish. Sometimes, only the little things mattered. They were starting to get on his nerves as the cold bit into his first layer of clothing, the coolness spreading underneath. The day was half over now. They had all slept it away. A waste, he thought, on another world, another life. Here, it mattered not. He walked around the outside, skirting the perimeter until he found the stolen pallet full of water bottles. Some convenience store on some colony's main highway was a few units short this week. He took two bottles, quickly stowed them in his pockets and went back inside, kneading his cold hands together.
Once seated on the couch, he cracked open a bottle and made sure it wasn't frozen. He downed it in seconds and kept the other one on his lap while he opened a comic book. He noticed that Chris appeared through a doorway. "How'd ya sleep?" Justin asked.
"Like shit." Chris replied. "When is it my turn to sleep on the couch or the cot?"
"Never…if you keep asking bitch questions like that."
"Whatever."
Justin flipped a page, laughed out loud.
"What?" Chris asked.
"Did you ever read about the death of Superman?"
"No."
"I find it quite funny."
"Why is that?"
"Well…Superman is the savior of the human race. He protects them and inspires them, right? Well, along comes his great enemy and he kills him. Kills Superman. And everyone is all sad and shit."
"What's so funny about that?"
"Because he's Superman!"
"I don't get it. He just died."
"But he's Superman. Don't you think he'll come back? The hero always does. They just made that episode to get people more interested."
"Well, of course they did." Chris said. "You have to go along with the story, don't you? You have to suspend logic and reality to actually enjoy a comic, don't you think?"
Justin smiled giddily at Chris, taking the young boy by surprise. "This little stack of pages is one of a kind. I stole it and hundreds others from City Seventeen years ago. Would be priceless on some other world." With a flick of his wrist, Justin tossed the comic to the dirt floor and the fine silt beneath it plumed outwards as it claimed an LZ for itself. He stood up. "We're going to work today, you and me. Get ready to go."
"What about Pete and Ken?"
"Let them sleep. Let's go."
Justin headed outside to start up the Mongoose.
Chris was Justin's apprentice for the day, learning the techniques of magnaflux inspections. If not for Justin, with his tenure and skills here, Chris would be reduced to laboring at the mines or in the phosphate pits with the other less fortunate workers.
The day for Justin Reid at the City 17 factory became a day just like any of the other thousands before it. Routine, normal, and cool. No worries here; just work as usual.
This was until Jim Carsa showed up. Justin hadn't actually noticed Jim's presence to begin with, being immersed in his duties for the day. His whole face was deep into the metal workings of cargo containers, magnifying scopes covering his eyes half the time. He was oblivious to Jim.
"Uh-oh..." Chris said from Justin's side.
"Hey, jarhead."
Justin removed the scope from his left eye, put down his utensils and wheeled around to see Jim standing over him.
"Hey, Jim. What's crappening?"
"Came to talk to you about the fight you had the other night. Two of my buddies said you attacked them for no reason."
"Wasn't me. Must've been some one else." Justin turned his back on Jim at this point, peering back into the scope and resuming his inspections as if Jim didn't even exist. And to Jim, Chris didn't exist as well. The rough-and-tumble gang member hadn't even paid the boy a glance, and for once Chris was glad to be invisible.
"I think not, because they said the one who did it goes by the name of Justin."
Justin looked sidelong over to Chris with a scold in his eyes, remembering the night it happened. Chris came back on the Mongoose when Justin instructed him not to, and called out his name before they drove away.
"I did some checking," Jim continued, "and there are only two Justins that work in City Seventeen, and only one of them was a grunt."
"What does me being a Marine in the last life have anything to do with your friends getting their asses kicked. Talk to the other Justin."
A newfound rage swelled inside Carsa. "Only someone with military training could've done that to them."
"That's great."
No reaction came form Jim. He turned and walked away.
"Wow," Chris said, "that's it? I thought he was gonna fight you for sure this time."
"It's called progressive discipline. Start off with the least amount of hostility, and gradually ratchet it up until the situation is handled. Fortunately for me and my short temper, he pretty much took care of it for himself. See how that works?"
"Yeah…don't be eager."
"That's right." Justin said with a smile. "Nobody wants problems, even people who want problems."
"Well…then why is that Jim fellow groping on Layla and looking right at you?"
"What?!"
Justin threw down his tools and faced Jim—at the far end of the line where Layla was. He had her in his arms. She was appauled, so much so that she managed to break free of his embrace and run to one of the breakrooms.
A momentary standoff occurred between Justin and Jim, a stare down. A battle of the wits. Jim was the first to blink, consequently following Layla into the room.
The room with one-way windows that Justin wouldn't be able to see through from the outside.
He made after Jim without another moment's thought.
Jim was already inside by the time Justin started off.
Justin didn't run, but he approached the door quickly, managing to move quite discretely amid the factory floor. The flung the door open and saw him with her in the corner of the break room, hovering over her cringing form.
"C'mon, let me open up your lunchbox, girl."
"Justin!" she shouted as he neared.
Turning to face Justin was the last thing Jim could do before he fell to the floor from a tremendous blow from Justin's strong fist.
Justin instinctively went to her after assessing that Jim was out for the count. "Did he hurt you?"
"No. I…I'm okay." she swept hair from her face.
"Let's get you home."
He walked her out of the break room briskly, past the conveyors and out of the bay doors, Chris following closely behind. They tried to pay no mind to the many onlookers as they hurried out, soon reaching the bay doors as they parted. "Where's your ride?"
She replied, "Over there, at the other vehicle rack." she pointed hurriedly.
"Chris," Justin said, "get her over there, then meet me back at the 'Goose. We're going home early."
Chris nodded and took off with Layla.
As soon as the two of them departed, Justin headed over to a set of employee vehicles not unlike his. He yanked all their fuel lines loose from the bodies of the fusion carberators. Not wasting any time, he freed up his own vehicle near the facility entrance, drove it just barely outside and waited there to pick up Chris—who was running back at full speed.
"Did you get her out of here?"
"She's gone."
"Good. Time to leave."
Chris mounted pillion, and they both looked over their shoulders before driving away just in time to see Jim emerging from the break room and into view along with two of his cohorts. Justin took a moment and looked hard. These were the same two thugs that Justin had dispatched nights prior. He smirked as he saw droplets of blood running from Jim's forehead to an eye. They both knew there was no chance of Jim catching up to Justin. Jim raised his chin and butted his fists together by the thumbs right before running full speed to his vehicle near the entrance, one of the ones Justin sabotaged. Justin nailed the throttle before he got too cocky.
"Let's hope we can outrun them." Justin said over his shoulder.
"Yeah." Chris replied, adrenaline lacing his voice.
The Mongoose whizzed towards the tunnel exit, a wild spray of dust behind them. Soon they were in darkness, the only light to be had emanating from the ATV headlight. In hardly any time they reached the gate with the usual set of sentries manning it. "What about these guys?" Chris asked, "Can't they help us?"
"Are you fucking kidding me? These guys don't care about anything more than having to sweep up our guts after the fight is over, so long as the bullets don't fly their way."
"Shit. Go!"
Justin slowed the vehicle and waited for the gate guard to let them through. "Justin, what are you doing?" Chris demanded through gritted teeth. No answer.
The guard approached the Mongoose's flank. "I think the guy behind me sabotaged one of the factories." Justin said as he darted off again.
Chris looked back and saw the sentries lining up at the gate and take up defensive positions. "How did you know what to say?"
"Guards certainly care about the welfare of the factory. If it shuts down, we all get screwed. That'll stall them for a while."
"Nice."
They sped through the outer sanctum. They were more or less home free. At the ominous fork in the road past the admin district of City 17, Justin halted the Mongoose.
"What are you doing?" Chris asked.
"We can't go home just yet."
"Why not?"
"It's night time and when they get here, they'll see the dust we've kicked up in their headlights. They'll follow us all the way home."
"Then what? Let them come! We've got me, you, Pete, and Ken. We'll kick their asses!"
"No. We'll be dead. They've got lots of guns with them, and we've only got one shotgun at the igloo. That gang sign they threw up…it's means we're dead, no matter what."
"Marked for death?"
'That's what I just said."
"So what do you do if you're both working in the same shift again?"
"We won't be."
"How do you know?"
"You'll see soon."
"What about right now? Where do we go? We can't just sit here. They'll be coming this way!"
"But we can't go home either." Justin was about the maneuver the Mongoose, but something caught his attention.
A man could be seen and heard running across the open plains, heading in their direction. The individual was screaming with arms flailing all around, running for dear life it seemed. The voice was dry and hoarse from carrying on the way it had, longer than either Justin or Chris could guess. He came within a stone's throw when Chris shouted, "Hey, are you alright?"
Justin looked back and belted Chris across the mouth with his open palm. "What are you thinkin' about?!"
As Chris rubbed away the pain radiating between his lips, Justin eyed the man warily, ready for anything. But the crazed man just kept running at top speed, showing no intent of attacking them as Justin had envisioned. He simply ran right around their ATV as if an obstacle and scurried towards nothing, running from nothing, eyes wide with horror and screams filled with terror. The Doppler shift of his tormented voice faded into the opposite horizon.
"That was weird." Justin muttered.
"Why did you hit me?"
"I didn't hit you, I lightly slapped you."
"Why did you slap me?"
"Becuase I am the counter weight to all your stupidity." Justin stood up on the footpegs and squinted into the distance, scanning for anything else unusual from the direction in which the crazed man originated from. Justin watched until the nomad was half the size he was earlier, his figure dissipating into the smog-choked horizon. "Next time something like that happens, remain still, keep quiet, and for shit's sake let me do the thinking." He arced the handle bars hard to one side and slowly moseyed the Mongoose about before giving it full throttle.
They gained speed, soon transitioning from road to dirt. Chris attained a firm footing on the bootpad, stood taller and peered over Justin's shoulder as they zoomed closer to the solid rock wall looming dead ahead. The dial read 80 kph. Justin wasn't slowing down.
"You're gonna run into that wall!" Chris shouted.
They were right upon it, the impenitrable bulwark looming over them. Chris hoped Justin was showing off again, but something told him Justin went crazy, and he thought about bailing out. Instead, he hesitated, glanced at the hard and unforgiving ground moving so fast beneath him. He closed his eyes and braced hard for whatever Justin resigned them to.
But nothing came except cool air and a draft. Chris felt negative inertia as Justin firmly activated the brakes.
"We're inside the entrance to a mine shaft. Keep quiet and we'll watch them ride right by us."
Chris opened his eyes and was met with a face full of pitch blackness. Justin righted the Mongoose around to face the entry way they came through, giving them some stable reference. He killed the 'Goose and removed the key so the headlight was completely doused. The day was about to transform to an eerie night. Justin hadn't been out during the night in quite some time. In fact, he could remember only one time he was out like this. One memory came to mind: the Battle of Gulag Hill. He was out then. Him, Bill, Pete, and Ken were all out that night. Everyone on Traxus IX was.
He shook off that memory.
"Why is it taking so long?" Chris asked.
"I removed one of their fuel lines."
Chris would have complemented Justin, but he was still angry that he had hit him. Like most of the time on this ATV, Chris remained silent—this time out of bitterness.
Moments later, the humming of two ATVs riding in tandem became audible to Justin and Chris, echoing off the bulwark surrounding them. Headlights emerged from the outer courtyard and soon the riders could be seen, two of them on one Mongoose and one on the other. They stopped dead center on the fork in the road. Thankfully, the night gloom and the ambient dust hung dense enough for Justin and Chris not to be seen.
Jim and his cohorts remained there for a moment before riding away, down the wrong fork in the road, the more unpleasant of paths to choose from.
The noise of their engines faded and that's when Justin decided to fire up the Mongoose. He switched on the headlamp and was about to clear the entrance to head back home…
…when he saw the strangest thing on the ground in front of him.
"What are we waiting for?" Chris asked.
"Shut up. You see that?" Justin said, pointing in front of the ATV. Justin was spellbound at what he saw. Chris took notice even from pillion.
"Whoa. What is it? It looks like gold."
"I don't know." Justin hopped off the ATV and walked towards the entrance. He bent down and stared at what looked like…"Flowers? This can't be."
"Be what?"
Justin knelt down next to them, abosulte amazement in his eyes. As if he stumbled upon some ancient treasure of unfathomable worth. "Flowers." Justin said, annoyed.
Even though Justin said earlier that nothing grew on Traxus IX, Chris didn't see what the big deal was. It was just plants. But Chris wanted to know Justin, to make friends. "I thought you said nothing grows here."
"I did say that. I was wrong."
"I wonder how anything could grow in this shit hole of a planet." Chris said, kicking the ground.
"I'm gonna take some of this."
Justin grabbed a few of the flowers by their stalks and yanked up. It took a surprising amount of effort to do so. He bent them and twisted them before they finally gave in. He scored a fist full of them and shoved them deep into his pockets. "C'mon. Let's get the hell back on home before Jim and his fuck buddies decide to come this way."
Chris jumped on the ATV and they sped towards the igloo.