Osamu put his hand on the other man's and fixed him with a look of urgent concern. “I cannot let you do this! It is crazy.”
“I have to do this old man, someone put a dangerous device inside my leg bones, just above the knees.”
“You can't remove?” he made a sawing motion with his hand. “While you're asleep?”
“No, if I try to remove it too slowly it'll go off killing me and everyone nearby. Trust me old timer, if there was any other way…” Wheeler said as he pushed the old man's hand away from the control. “Any other way,” he took a deep breath, turned the safety off, pressed the activation button once, began to exhale shakily and pressed it again.
The pain was no surprise, his whole body convulsed as everything below his mid thigh was shredded and converted into energy. He fell to the floor screaming, his head bashed against the base of the mass converter, its humming filled his senses between cries of pain.
The blood was a surprise, there was so much. I should have tied tourniquets. He found himself thinking as the pain lessened a little. He opened his eyes and saw his framework skeleton performing its magic.
Replacement bones appeared, followed by working, moving muscle, sinew, flesh and finally skin. The whole ordeal only took ten seconds, but it was an experience he'd never forget and never wanted to relive. He laughed and slowly came to his feet, looking at the stunned old man. “Could you throw in some new shoes for the freakshow?”
Osamu turned and quickly shuffled off to one of many old trunks lining a section of the sheet metal wall. A couple minutes later he returned with a pair of old work boots and an insulated jumpsuit that was in even worse condition than the one he had arrived in. Lucius was already scanning his new legs with a brand new hand tool. “All gone. Thanks to you Regent Galactic can't set me off whenever they get the urge.”
“Regent Galactic?” the older fellow said in dismay. “You go now, take Intrepid model. Good ship, I just finish rebuilding,” he handed Wheeler the jumpsuit and boots then pointed to the small ship at the front of his barn. It would easily fit through the tall doors.
“You're not going to tell anyone about this, right?” Wheeler said as he took his jacket off and started to pull the jumpsuit on.
“No, no one will hear,” he replied vehemently, waving his hands between them as though warding Wheeler off.
“Good, because I'll know if you spread the word.”
Wheeler settled into the pilot seat of the small, sporty short range interplanetary vessel and entered the code Osamu had given him. The tiny holographic display ran through the code list and then acknowledged him as the new owner. As the reactor started he watched Osamu run to a tall locker and retrieve a small pressure washer. He's really going to clean everything up right away, he'll probably put the mass converter in the back too, out of sight. Old guy's smarter than he looks. I probably won't have to come back and kill him before I leave this rock.
He checked the small, cheaply made communication and organizing unit on his wrist and saw that he was running out of time. “Damn, can't be late to meet Gabriel. No telling what that freak'll do if I'm not there on his schedule.”
With the reactor reading ready, the environmental controls heating the inside of the small, streamlined ship, he slowly lifted off and guided the vessel out through the front of the barn. “Free at last oh baby! Free at last! ” He laughed manically and drummed his feet against the cockpit floorboards. “Time to see what's what and work my way back up from the bottom!”
The flight to Erdon was uneventful until he reached the radius mark, two hundred kilometres away from the neglected port. He transmitted the twenty credit Navnet fee and followed the trajectory assigned to him by the automated system. Coming down below the clouds Lucius could see the excuse for a port he was actually landing in.
Pit mining was common on Lectivus V, and one of the oldest sites had been roughly fortified and turned into Erdon Port. Extending hundreds of meters below the surface, the tapering pit was host to hotels, bars, mooring and landing sites for smaller ships, port stores and zealous traders who paid far too much for small booths and patches of ground along the major walkways.
He guided his ship down to a landing patch outside the yawning pit city only just large enough for it and input his locking code as the engines wound down. “Damn, this ship can't be more than ten years old but the engines have gotta be fifty,” he stood and squeezed between the four seats behind him in the main cabin and opened an access hatch. He was greeted by a mess of cables and small components. Picking a small blackened box with numerous ports sticking out from all sides he chuckled. “Universal converters? There's no way I'm taking this thing into hyperspace,” he stuffed the tangle of cables back into the compartment and made sure nothing had become disconnected. “Good thing I paid for this heap with a stolen diamond, otherwise I'd feel ripped.”
The trip between the landing spot and his destination took him through the winding tunnels leading into the city proper. A true cultivation world, Lectivus V played host to buyers, miners, loggers, prospectors and anyone else who prayed on them or had just been stuck there, like him. Hallways and merchant spaces were just barely fit for use and despite the smell and sight of the open walkways eroding under the constant traffic of millions of beings on foot, being on one of the main paths open to the cold air was a relief.
Avoiding crowds of people trying to get where they were going was an art form and he fit into the crowd all too well. He certainly looked the part, especially in the old, filthy jumpsuit he had taken from the old man, but years of hiding in plain sight while he worked for Intelligence, then captained the Triton gave him the instincts and habits one required when navigating through a press of people. Those memories only served him subconsciously, however. Regent Galactic had built a biocircuit that suppressed concious recollection until he was reactivated.
He'd never forget what he was doing when the reactivation signal reached him. His hands had worn permanent grooves into the excavation scoop controls he had manipulated for over a year while he earned a pathetic wage in an open pit mine. The place was just ninety miles from Erdon and he never wanted to see it again. It was a good thing too, since he shutdown the excavator and
walked off the job the instant he realized he wasn't just some lost miner trapped on Lectivus V.
The place he had planned to meet Gabriel had become a regular haunt for Wheeler over the time he had spent as a miner. Lombardy's was just a rectangular room held up by old metal netting filled with chairs and tables. Down one side was a bar, behind were crates and boxes on their sides so the bottle caps faced the bartender. They were stacked half way to the rough ceiling. The place couldn't afford the power costs for a materializer, so they overcharged for cheap beverages and worse food.
Wheeler looked around, there were twenty three people seated in mismatched chairs. He took a seat on a stool at the bar. “Just gimmie a Fobar and Candorian Lager,” he ordered from the bartender.
The gruff, grey faced woman shook her head as she took a brown meal replacement bar out from under the counter and dropped it in front of Lucius. “No Candarian Gold Lager hon, doubt they'll get any out to us this month,” she said offhandedly.
“You'd think they'd treat the most resource rich world in the sector a little better, considering the markup on an ounce of anything worth taking out of the solar system. I'll just take what you've got on tap.”
“Markup's so high 'cause people are greedy, not on account of how much they pay you diggers,” she finished pouring a tall pint of dark yellow beer and put it down in front of Wheeler as he unwrapped the slim compressed fodder bar. “If you spent half as much on food as you did what you drink you might get some meat on those bones.”