Blackjack Wayward

Chapter Thirty-Three

My long hair was burned off, as were the majority of my facial scruff and my eyebrows were singed. The tech suit held up well, but the continual assault by gunfire pushed the incredible fabric past its limit, and my whole back was exposed, with the suit hanging in shreds. I was shot up, bruised, and charred, covered in soot and sweaty grime, not to mention exhausted.

And pissed.

Ruby escorted me away, but as we walked off, I was still able to catch the beginnings of Superdynamic and Ricochet’s conversation which began with Superdynamic saying, “Look, he might be a villain, but as long as he behaves....”

So he still thought of me as the bad guy. I guess it would take a miracle to get a guy like him to approve of me, much less like me, and I doubt anything could get Mirage to stop glaring at me like I was a pedophile or mass-murderer. He held some sort of hidden resentment toward me that, unlike Superdynamic, he couldn’t reconcile.

They were holding me, that much was clear, and that would allow Superdynamic the moral high ground for not returning me to Utopia. Besides, that place had been a mess. There was no guarantee that it was still functional. No, he was keeping me here in lieu of other incarceration because he knew nothing could hold me if I didn’t want to be held.

“We’re all really fond of the girl, you know?” Ruby said.

“She’s something.”

Ruby regarded me a second.

“Yeah, she is. But I’m wondering why you’re bothering with her.”

I shrugged.

“You’re a fiend,” she said as we entered a lift. “I know your kind. Half-tracked mind you have.”

“It’s not like that,” I said.

She raised a disapproving eyebrow.

“It’s not like that?” she mocked. “It’s something, though, isn’t it? And it’s curious that you go after her, the innocent one, no? You like them young?”

“I didn’t go after her,” I said. “She was the only one of you f*cking people that was friendly, you know? Maybe I just gravitated toward a decent person. Rest of you are a bunch of....” I trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.

Ruby smiled.

“Focus has a lot of wonderful qualities, Blackjack. But ‘friendliness’ isn’t one of them. She’s a shy girl, and sure, she might be taken with you, you being all tall and stupid-looking and whatnot, but it was you who started it, or my hair isn’t naturally red.”

I looked closely at her hair, wondering that same thing myself. It was far too bright; it had to be fake.

“Oh, go f*ck yourself,” she said as I scrutinized her.

I smiled, “Maybe you’re right, but she was nice to me. Everyone else is being a f*cking a*shole, you know? You especially.”

“Oh, I do know. I know your kind, plenty well. But listen to me, mister, that girl is young and innocent. She doesn’t know anything. Off limits to the likes of you, you get me?”

“Yeah, Moe told me. We just keep running into each other and–”

She grabbed my arm and turned me, dirtying her gloves with the soot and grime I was coated in but not caring.

“Just do that for me, you know? If you can’t help yourself, or if you just need to blow off some steam, jerk yourself in the bathroom. You understand?

Her bright emerald eyes bored right into me.

“I can behave,” I said, with a whiney, pleading tone that surprised me.

“Then behave, goddammit.”

She let go of my arm as the doors slid open.

“Besides,” Ruby said, as we walked down the hallway, “I thought you and Apogee were a thing.”

I shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not sure about anything anymore.”

Ruby didn’t seem to hear me, waving and saying hello to almost every other staffer we passed. Ahead was the central hub of the floor, emblazoned with a sign that read “Medical Facilities.”

She led me to a private room whose walls I first thought were made of glass. Only after coming in and seeing them flicker off, reforming into a larger room, did I realize that they were made of solid-light, much like the tech that the robots used to appear like real people. The room was still small, with a table atop which lay a prepped tray of hermetically sealed doctor’s utensils. Across from it, lining the far wall, was a bed much like one would find in any hospital, with the nearest railing lowered and a series of controls along the plastic siding that controlled the mattress. Motioning for me to get on the bed, Ruby looked at the control console and the walls suddenly turned opaque, like frosted glass.

“Alone at last,” she said with a mischievous smile, reaching over for the equipment. “Now take the tech suit off, I’m going to give you a good, thorough examination. Prostate and everything.” Ruby grabbed a pair of latex gloves and snapped them on.

I didn’t care about being naked, and at this moment, I cared little about anything, so I ripped the shredded suit off and tossed it into a garbage can.

Ruby turned back to me, adjusting one of her gloves, and gave me a once-over, raising an eyebrow.

“On the bed, villain.”

I chuckled, shook my head, and sat on the bed, lying back as she came over.

She reached out and touched my rib cage, where there were some smeared char marks from the bullets. The cold caress of her fingers made me flinch.

“Did it hurt?”

I nodded as her gaze went down my body, all the way to my thighs and legs. Her green eyes danced all over my frame, a hint of a smile flashing across the sides of her mouth.

“I’m frankly offended you didn’t come on to me first,” she said, looking back into my eyes, but before I could respond, she went on. “Not that it matters, anyway. I’ve never been attracted to big and stupid. Here, let me cover you up. Looks like you’re a wee bit cold.”

She unfurled a blanket over me, covering my hips and lower torso.

“I thought you were with Superdynamic.”

Ruby laughed, “You’re serious?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy that would care too much about that one way or the other,” she said, studying my chest, goosebumps popping up where she touched me.

“Too cold?”

“A little,” I said.

“Don’t be such a little girl about it,” she said, her hands exploring my body. She was probing like a blind person feeling your face to get an impression of your features, only Ruby’s vision seemed to be fine.

Her hands came to rest on the remnants of the wound Haha had made back on Hashima Island when he had buried his remaining self into my wrist.

“What’s this?”

“A friend did that,” I said, not wanting to get into the details.

She knew I was obfuscating and leaned on the bed.

“You can’t hide any secrets from me, Mister Blackjack. I’ve seen you naked as a jaybird now.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Ruby stared at me, not satisfied with my answer. “Fine, have it your way. What about this?” she asked, rubbing the ugly scar on my right hand. It was the only souvenir from my big fight on Hashima Island, when my hand had broken during those last, few desperate moments as I brought down the walls.

“It’s a scar,” I said.

“Oh, this is going to be a lovely examination,” she snapped, placing her hand on my stomach, “Quit flinching, you big baby!” Closing her eyes, she lifted her hand so only the tips of her fingers were touching my body.

“Now don’t make a sound,” Ruby said, and then she seemed to get lost in concentration.

I looked at her, waiting for something to happen, but the only thing she did was slowly shift her fingers lower down my abdomen. I leaned back and settled into the bed.

“That’s right,” she said, almost entranced, “Just shut up and let me work.”

What work did she mean? Her hand was still on the slow decent down my body, going past my navel and down to my crotch. Was I going to score with this girl? She seemed upset I hadn’t shown any interest–

Then I felt something. Her hand stopped, a few inches below my belly button, and I sensed a vibration. I sensed it around my heart, and suddenly I could feel the beat resonating through my torso. Anyone can sit silently and feel their heart, hear it even, within the recesses of their body, but this was different. The beating resounded through my upper cavity, like waves of energy rippling through the muscle and bone. Every bit of sinew was clear to me, every tendon and ounce of cartilage, each part of my body burned in my brain as the waves of sound helped me make a mental picture of everything.

I opened my eyes and saw her in the same position, her hand so close to my manhood, but far enough to pass as innocuous. I swallowed and she smiled, her eyes still closed. I realized she was doing it, making all the sounds of my body echo, and by doing that, she was getting a full picture of everything.

Her free hand reached over, holding on to my left hand, and I felt the sounds bouncing down my torso suddenly deviate down my arms, all the way to the scarred wrist.

“Interesting,” she said, but her voice had no effect.

I tried to speak, but just the process of opening up my mouth, the splitting of my lips, sent a series of waves down my body, which she manipulated where she needed them.

She let go of my wrist and switched hands, her left now at my navel, and the other continued downward, passing over the towel across my crotch and down my leg to my left knee. I felt the gurgling sound of digesting food in my midsection and she used it as a focus, channeling it downward. It was an odd feeling: every swish of blood, every swirl of what remained inside my bladder, the flow of all my vascular fluids, all gave rise to sounds that reverberated through my frame. Her touch was titillating, sensual, and when her hand came across my penis, I felt a warm twinge of excitement.

“Oooh,” she said, finding something. “And what happened here?”

I looked down, worried she might notice my growing bulge under the towel. I wanted to say something, but I was afraid that the loudness of my voice would overwhelm me as it clamored across my body.

She checked my other leg, and arm and then my upper torso, before opening up her eyes and stepping away, the effect gone in that same instant. She ripped off the gloves and tossed them into the garbage can.

“You’re fine,” she said, starting out of the room.

“Wait a minute,” I said, sitting up.

Ruby smiled, “What, you want a happy ending?”

“No, I don’t mean that,” I said, covering myself with the tiny towel. “I mean…” I lingered off, suddenly understanding what she had just insinuated.

She laughed, “You’re a fiend, you are.”

“What I mean is…what was that there?”

Ruby came back to me, “I just checked you out,” she said. “You’re fine, by the way, other than some cartilage damage to your knees and elbows. Good luck getting arthroscopic tools that can pierce your skin. Oh, your prostate is a little mushy, lay off the caffeine and spicy foods. Might help to get a girlfriend to keep you busy, and barring that, you might want to give it a wank from time to time. A busy prostate is a healthy prostate, if you know what I mean. You’ve also a bunch of old fractures in your rib cage that didn’t heal right, but that’s nothing to worry about now. Your old man was a fiend too, I guess.”

I looked down at the floor, clenching my teeth.

“As for that,” she gestured to what I was holding down under the towel. “Take a nice long shower, use lubrication.” Ruby smiled. “Oh, and shave. For God’s sakes, shave. And cut what’s left of that hair. You look like something my cat coughed up. Maybe if you clean up, you might have a chance to get yourself a decent girl.”

She patted my cheek and walked off.

I ambled back to my room.

How I got there is another wonder that Superdynamic had designed into his tower of wonders. It was as if the place knew where I wanted to go, with lights on the ground flashing every time I had doubt as to where to go, the elevators stopping at a particular floor only for me, and doors opening as if on command. Either someone was monitoring my movements, giving me a guiding hand, or the tower’s resident A.I. knew your intentions and helped you fulfill them. I didn’t know if I still had guest access to the system, but it knew who I was and that I wanted to go to my room.

I showered, shaved with a special laser-welder thing that Superdynamic or one of his people had left in my room, and cut what was left my hair back to what it normally was. My hair is about as tough as I am, so I can’t just go to the barber down the street. As a result I’ve gotten good at taking care of myself.

I took some time to clean off my boots and put on another of the stretchy jumpsuits before settling on the bed. About three hours had passed since we had arrived, so I figured a short nap would do me well before heading out on the mission. But sleep didn’t come. I was bothered by the recordings; how had they gotten their hands on them? Maybe some of that stuff had been archived on the Rocket Flyer, and I’m sure that after the Hashima mess, it would have fallen into the good guys’ hands.

Hard as I tried, I couldn’t focus; I was antsy, eager to do something. I usually had a project or ten rolling in my head. But without something to design, or a lab to work on it, my mind began to race, my body listless, and I was literally pacing across the small room. Enough, I thought, and stormed out, heading to the elevator, intent on finding something to do, even if it meant trouble with Superdynamic.

Besides, I was getting the impression he would leave me behind. More trouble than he’s worth, he’d say, justifying leaving the heaviest hitter in the dugout.

By now I was starting to understand how his little base worked, so I knew Superdynamic would know I had gone wandering. If I was violating protocol, bouncing from floor to floor, the other inhabitants of Babel didn’t seem to care, or else they were good enough to conceal their worry or concern.

The nearest floors were uniform, long halls, enormous labs filled with scientists running all sorts of experiments from electrical to thermodynamic, covering fields as vast as science itself. Superdynamic’s ambition was impressive, and he had managed to put his money where his mouth was. What was most notable was that he wasn’t shouldering the load, though he was a polymath like me, capable of solving problems in wide-ranging fields. No, he had created an environment where science was king; politics and funding were a problem that only he had to deal with, leaving the task of discovery to the finest minds on the planet.

Watching all the activity, all the progress taking place around me, made me feel like a pebble caught in a flowing river, stumbling along slowly while the current whipped by, leaving me behind. I felt helpless, and the frustration of my combat with Focus was wearing on me. I know what he was trying to do: get me to understand patience, to understand process and to learn how a team works together, but the mission to me was clear. Apogee was in danger, something was going on in D.C., and I was going through meaningless exercises. Now was not the time for training, to relearn everything. We had to get to D.C., figure things out the hard way if necessary, and take care of business.

The elevator stopped at one of the teen levels, and a young scientist got into the cab. I noticed that his lab coat was dirty, smeared with actual soil, and from this level came a light that was more natural than the others. Something else made me bounce out of the elevator as the doors slid closed: a smell, the aroma of churned topsoil, making me reminisce of my days back in our little home on the outskirts of Sacramento. My father was a doctor, with a small office in Midtown, one of the poorer areas of town, but our home outside the city proper was an actual farm. Dad had sold the arable land off to a larger farmer collective before I was born, and our backyard fence bordered a real working farm of more than thirty acres of orange groves. My brother and I would sneak back there, climb the trees, and pretend we were superheroes like Valiant and Global, defending the orange grove from unseen enemies until night came and we had to come in for supper.

The smell was unmistakable.

Ahead of me stood a massive set of double doors, opened to reveal a long light-bridge to one of the largest platforms orbiting the tower. I walked across, a little more comfortable with the experience, realizing as I drew closer that it was a greenhouse four football fields wide containing a vast field of crops. The lighting was natural. The roof was made of a single seamless piece of glass or acrylic that allowed the burning hot African sun to filter through. The huge crop field was climate controlled and properly hydrated, providing the plants the perfect conditions for maximum growth.

Two guards flanked the door, but they didn’t even look in my direction as I walked through, across the large platform overlooking the whole field. I took the stairs down to the bottom level and walked through the crops, noticing a few people also walking through the rows of plants, taking readings and samples.

I was drawn to a small grove of orange trees, like a child to Disneyland. There were too few trees to provide an ample crop of oranges, and looking around, it seemed that was the case with most of the crops, so it was just an experiment to see if the thing was even feasible.

“Excuse me,” said a voice behind me. I turned to see a young woman dressed in khaki shorts and jacket, with a white tank-top and a blue baseball cap that had the words “Boss” embroidered in white.

“Let me guess,” I said. “You’re the boss.”

She was genuinely boggled, regarding me with a nervous smile.

“I’m sorry?” she said, but then understood. “Oh, the hat,” she took it off and looked at it. Her hair was cropped short and blonde.

“Yep,” I said.

“The staff gave it to me for my birthday,” she said, a bit bashful.

“This is impressive, how you’ve managed to combine so many different crop types in the same area. I didn’t think it was possible.”

She was suspicious, but I was curious about her baby and her desire to explain the whole project overwhelmed any worry about who I might be. Besides, I was wearing the team suit. I might be twice the size of anyone in all of Babel, save perhaps Moe, but while wearing the garb, I was just one of them. I hoped she wouldn’t look down at my boots and wonder what they were about.

“Well, it’s all thanks to the special photovoltaics that prime the light,” she said, and my mind raced back to a lab in Northern California that I had bombed early on. They were running tests on something similar.

“The light that enters the chamber is modified specifically for each plant type, providing it not only the right intensity and wavelength, but allowing us to cater to each crop individually. See, our crops are laid out in a grid pattern, and the photovoltaic primers in the glass shield are programmed to allow different types of light for each spot on the grid as the sun goes by.”

“Wow,” I said, my mind genuinely blown. “And Superdynamic thought of that?”

“Huh?”

“Well,” I motioned to the whole base. “This is his puppy, right? The guy’s a genius, so I figured–”

“My team came up with this all,” she said, a bit upset that I devalued her contribution.

She looked back at her tablet computer a moment, giving me the chance to take a look at her. Her nametag read “Dr. de la Rocha,” and the doctor kept in shape. Perhaps a bit too slim, in her early thirties. Her blond hair was unruly, despite being short, constantly in her face, and her blue eyes were back to studying me with curiosity.

“I’m sorry, Doctor de la Rocha. I just assumed, wrongly, that he had his hands into everything.”

She smiled, satisfied with my apology. “The project committee has final approval over all major projects, but once we have their blessing, we’re in charge. As long as we stay true to the original funding,” she said, cocking her head forward.

“Amazing,” I said.

“Wait ‘til we have the second phase going,” de la Rocha said, beaming.

“Bigger?”

She nodded slowly, “Thirty times larger. The dome is in construction as we speak thirty miles north of here, on the other side of town. Combined with Dr. Cornell’s work on animal husbandry, and Dr. Lao’s work on nanotechnology with regards to using nanite bacterial soil management and pest repellence, we’ll be able to feed a population of 50-60 thousand from a dome this size.”

“No more trips to Save Mart, I guess,” I joked.

De la Rocha laughed. “California, huh?”

“Born and bred,” I said.

“I’m from Seattle.”

“Long way from home, doctor.”

She looked around the fields, suddenly gushing with pride. “Yeah, but what a ride.”

I let her enjoy the moment, looking up and trying in vain to see the gaps in the roving photovoltaics along the upper canopy.

“So you’re new, huh?”

“Dammit,” I said. “I put the thing on backwards, didn’t I?”

She looked at my suit and shook her head, “No, it’s all the questions. And, well...you do look kind of weird in that suit. We’re a little more casual down here, since we don’t have to abide by the air quality requirements that some of the projects do upstairs.” She paused, waiting for me to introduce myself, but for some reason, I didn’t want to.

“So?” she said, outstretching her hand. “I’m Katerina, you know my last name.”

“I’m Dale,” I said shaking her hand.

“You have a last name, Dale?”

I saw de la Rocha casually peck at her pad, as if she was trying to bring up the personnel records without my knowing it.

“I’m....” I swallowed hard. “I’m Blackjack.”

She raised her eyebrows, at first confused at what the hell I was talking about. Was that my last name? Dale Blackjack? But slowly the realization set in. Superdynamic had to have warned the staff, and her open, if cautious, enthusiasm disappeared, replaced by fear. Close as we were standing, I could tell she didn’t want to offend me, but de la Rocha did a terrible job of hiding her anxiety.

“I’m not going to do anything,” I said, but the words didn’t register. If anything, talk of potential violence only served to reinforce the sudden shock and consternation. She clutched the pad to her chest, like a shield.

“Please....” she managed, but she was stuck inside the lion’s cage, with the biggest, hungriest male. Scenarios raced through her mind, all ending the same way: everyone here was going to die.

I put my arms out defensively, but she flinched.

“I’m sorry,” I said, backing away from her. Others could see her facial expression, read her body posture, and ran over to help.

“No,” she shrieked, throwing her arms out for her rescuers to stop in their tracks, to stay away from the big bad guy, the monster that was going to kill everyone, burn the crops, rape the women, pillage and plunder.

I turned and ran, feeling moisture at the edges of my eyelids. I bounded toward the entrance, sparing a glance back to see Dr. de la Rocha dropping to her knees, relieved that she was going to live, others coming closer now to give her comfort, because she had faced the devil and lived.

“Satisfied?” said a voice in front of me, and I saw Superdynamic land on the platform overlooking the fields just as I came up the stairs.