Forbidden the Stars (25 page)

It was a long game, and he hadn’t beaten it in eight tries. Each attempt, he had spent hours every night for a week to get to the globule level, only to be defeated. He had never taken so long to beat a computer game. When he mastered this one, he was going to celebrate with a huge toke he’d been saving for just the right occasion.

He was approaching the final vectors of the globule cluster when the door to his room swung open and Marty Middlefield flicked on the overhead lights. Klaus’s eyes, unaccustomed to the brightness, were momentarily blinded.

“Hey, jerkoff. Enough time for play.” Marty cackled in pleasure.

Klaus leaped out of his seat, the thoughtlink patch falling to the floor as he bunched his fists.

“You little pain! That’s the last time—”

“Stuff it. The big cheese wants you; probably to take a bite out of your bitter ass. And on the double, slacker!”

Klaus hurled a half-full glass of cola at him. The glass, which had no metal content—and thus contained no attractors to Luna Station’s magnagravs—sailed out into the hall straighter than any arrow, flying at its target. Marty ducked out of the doorway an instant before the projectile would have impacted with his head. The glass shattered spectacularly against the door of the room opposite Klaus’s, the shards falling impossibly slowly to the ground.

“Asshat!” Marty shouted as he ran down the hall.

“I’m gonna make you cry for your mama!” Klaus yelled after the kid, who was three years younger than he was, and had been a constant sore point the past few weeks. To himself, Klaus swore, “If I get my hands around his neck, he won’t be dishing out too many of his little comments, I tell you.”

But the message Marty had delivered was more important at that moment than the messenger, however much Klaus wanted to throttle the newcomer.

Yin wanted Klaus. There was no delaying.

Pushing his rage to the back of his mind for future use, Klaus turned off his game, careful to save it, and headed out to Yin’s offices, making sure to lock the door to his little room behind him. He didn’t want any of the others crawling around his personal space. His room was the only thing he could call his own.

All the while he made his way through the underground complex of Yin’s secret empire, Klaus swore to himself. Things had been getting worse and worse over the past few months. Once it was brought into public knowledge of his near-screw-up with the Alex Manez - Macklin’s Rock affair, he had been treated with disdain by the others who worked for Yin.

Trying to distance themselves from him if the figurative meteorite ever hit the dome, the others had treated Klaus as an outcast, a pariah. Wherever he went, the disdainful glances and mocking comments followed like vultures to carrion.

Klaus had tried to broach the problem with Yin himself, but the old despot had laughed and told him that if he couldn’t handle his own problems, he would have to take away Klaus’s position and seniority.

A week later, a fistfight with one of the other guys over the incident resulted in a severe reprimand from Yin, and a revoking of certain privileges and Klaus’s status as senior monitor. No longer would Klaus be able to create the shift schedule, which had given him the opportunity to dole out to himself the best times; now, he had to take orders from Rick Janzen, a hacker a year younger than him. That grated on Klaus like a sandpaper enema.

In the last month, Marty Middlefield had been brought on Yin’s team of adolescent outlaws, and quickly learned that he could tease Klaus Vogelsberg with impunity. Nobody would defend Klaus, or allow the older boy to exact his revenge on the newcomer.

Klaus had nearly had enough. He had, in fact, even gone to the lengths of carefully planning every stage of Marty’s murder, right down to the celebration he would throw after the little brat was no more than a red stain on the carpet.

A few days before, Klaus had been wandering the main floor of the station, and followed a security officer on his way to dinner. Placing himself at a table nearby, Klaus watched the man withdraw his flechette holster and put the weapon on the table while he dined.

With a patience of dire purpose, Klaus waited, praying mantis-like for any opportunity, and was rewarded when the officer dropped a utensil, and got up to get another one.

Adroitly, Klaus palmed the flechette and holster, and casually found his way out of the diner, and back to his room.

The flechette was the only projectile weapon officially allowed on the station. A bullet, even from a .22, packed enough power to damage any of the protective shells that domed the station and kept out the vacuum and radiation of space. Even Yin proscribed against illegal firearms; Luna Station was the only home he would ever have.

The flechette was loaded with a clip of fifty small needle-like projectiles, each containing a small amount of tranquilizer, enough to immobilize a fugitive for up to fifteen minutes.

If Klaus decorated Marty’s body with all fifty flechettes, that would be a definite end to the little brat’s continuous harassment. That was a fact.

Putting his thoughts of murder on hold, Klaus entered Yin’s main office, stood at the doorway until he was noticed and acknowledged.

“Ah!” Chow Yin said when he looked up. The old coot actually looked pleased to see him. “You have arrived.”

The potentate stood from his couch, and it was only then that Klaus saw a young boy present and sitting on the couch beside Yin patiently.

At first, Klaus did not recognize the youth, but after a moment, realized who he was looking at before Chow Yin introduced him.

“Come on over here for a moment, Klaus. I have someone I would like you to meet. I am sure you have already heard of our guest, by name as well as reputation. You have intimate knowledge of our most honored visitor, since it is by your own devices that he has joined us today.

“Klaus, I would like to present to you, for the first time in the flesh, young Alex Manez. Alex, this is Klaus Vogelsberg, my young ingénue who so aptly discovered you, as it were. Even though you have never met, your destinies have been intertwined for the better part of this last half a year. I do so hope you will enjoy each other’s company.”

Klaus took a few steps into the room, because it was expected of him as well as to get a better look at this kid who had sent the entire world—the entire solar system, to wit—into turmoil.

Unimpressed by the kid, Klaus pursed his lips. He glanced up at Yin and blinked.

“Company?”

“Yes.” Chow Yin smiled in his patrician manner, and folded his hands in front of himself expectantly. “You see, I am placing you directly responsible for our young charge. He has agreed to enter into a joint venture with us to mutual benefit, and until his potential can be realized to its full fruition, I would like you to see to it that Alex wants for nothing.

“Treat him as a prince; treat him as you would…me, for instance. Cater to his every whim. I want you to be his personal guardian, Klaus.”

Without waiting to see Klaus’ reaction, Yin turned immediately to Alex Manez, and began reassuring him that he was in the best hands with Klaus Vogelsberg, but Klaus could hear nothing above the roar in his ears.

Guardian!
Baby-sitter was more like it. To a freaking ten-year old! Take orders from a little brat!

It was too much to take. The abuses that had been piling up on Klaus were reaching critical mass. This was no straw on the proverbial camel’s back!

The outrage that Klaus felt at that moment threatened to sent him into a psychopathic fit, but somehow, he managed to get a reign on it.

Yin was speaking to him once more. “All right, Klaus, see to Alex’s accommodations, will you? And bring him around for dinner around seven-thirty. He and I have much to discuss. Much to discuss, indeed!”

At least Klaus’ father had been direct with his intentions of brutality. Klaus had almost trusted Yin, almost come to respect him as fellow soul, a fellow victim. But now, it turned out Yin was no better than Klaus’s own father. Worse, even, for he employed trickery.

It was everything Klaus could do to keep his mouth shut; he had to bite down on his tongue to stifle the cry of indignation that longed to well out of him. The acrid, metallic taste of his own blood served to calm him. A cool wind of icy purpose settled over his thoughts.

Like an automaton, Klaus nodded acknowledgment of Yin’s decree. “All right.”

Without a word to Alex Manez, Klaus turned on his heel and headed out of Yin’s master chambers, leaving the kid to follow as he would.

“Oh,” Yin called after Klaus, simultaneously giving his newest prize a gentle nudge forward, “ensure that the other boys do not mistreat young Alex. Should he come to harm of any sort, you can be certain you will receive a severe punishment of the sort only found in your darkest nightmares.” He grinned sublimely. “I trust you will take every care with your little ward.”

Klaus paused only long enough to reply, “I will treat him like my one of my own.”

“Good. Now, off with you two youngsters.” Yin waved paternally to them.

Klaus smiled, but it was motivated by a private thought.
Yeah, I will treat him like one of my own—like my alcoholic father treated me.

Outraged at Yin, Klaus turned to Alex as he led the boy silently down the hallway.
You,
he thought,
will regret the day you were born.

*

When Klaus got to his room, it was in chaos. The door he had locked was busted wide open, his bed was disheveled, the mattress turned over, and all of his personal belongings were strewn all over the floor.

It took Klaus a moment to realize that his computer had also been the object of the vandalism. The screen was on, even though Klaus had turned off his DMR before he left.

His personal cyberscape, which he had spent months designing, was not on the DMR casement. Instead, the default factory desktop was shown. With a feeling of dread, Klaus approached his console, and opened his data manager.

He prompted it to show a list of his files, and saw right away that all the data in his personal folders had been erased. His games, his letters, his notes, his journal, everything.

For a half a minute, he stared at the screen, as if willing this all to have not happened. The earlier rage he felt in Yin’s apartment was nothing compared to the anger that welled in him now. At first, he did not even noticed the slight hand that tapped his shoulder.

“Are you all right? What happened?” Alex Manez asked him.

Klaus turned around slowly, and looked at the little kid with eyes that could have been dead.

“Fine. Just fine.” He stared at Alex for ten full seconds, not seeing the boy for all the thoughts and plans that went through his mind.

It had to have been Marty Middlefield. Trying to get even, or pulling one of his great jokes at my expense. That’s all right. I’ll play a little joke on him.

And Yin, threatening ME! Telling me that my ass is grass unless I sit up and play nice like a good little doggie. Well, I show him that this dog has more to it than a sharp bark.

I’ll fix this little upstart brat, too. He’s the root of my problem; but I’ll deal with him last.

The plans began forming in his mind, like crystals in a jar of sugar water. How to deal with Yin, Marty, and the little kid behind him.

An evil smile pulled at the corners of his lips as he donned his thoughtlink patch and opened his meshmail account. All his saved messages, both the ones he had received and the ones he had written, were erased, but Klaus didn’t care at that moment.

He wrote a quick memo, and posted it on the Luna Station’s Public Bulletin Page, marking it:

*

!!! URGENT !!! OFFICIAL !!!

*

Not bothering to turn off his computer, Klaus stood up from his desk, and fell to one knee beside his bed, where he reached underneath and behind a pornographic magazine he had tossed there. When he pulled his hand back out, the flechette pistol he had stolen was in his firm grasp.

Alex backed away, eyes widening. “What are you going to do with that?”

“I’m just going to set a few ground rules.”

With that, he strode out of the room, a determined set to his jaw, his eyes probing the compartment complex. The anger fired deep within him translated easily to his facial features, and some of the other hackers who encountered him on his way stepped back, eyes wide and fearful.

Some followed, but Klaus didn’t care. He was past any point of caring about the rest of them. They were all losers, anyway.

As stragglers gathered courage in numbers, and slowly gathered in Klaus’s wake, the noise level of the group grew to a jumbled murmur as they speculated what was on Klaus’s mind. A few knew about the room being trashed and giggled nervously.

“Marty’s gonna get it. Just watch,” one said. It only confirmed Klaus’s suspicion, and hardened his mind.

Someone asked who the new kid was, but the group was more excited about the fight they saw coming; no one had yet noticed the flechette in Klaus’s palm.

When the entourage reached Marty’s room, Klaus, ignoring them, kicked in the door, already ajar, and nearly knocked it off its hinges.

“Marty,” Klaus growled. “I really enjoyed your
last
practical joke.”

Marty, who had been sitting on his bed reading a cybercomic on his digipad, was at first startled, and seemed on the verge of trying to make a break for it, even though his only exit was blocked.

At Klaus’ words, Marty’s fear was quickly masked by his cockiness. He grinned like a hyena. “I thought you might.”

Klaus struggled to remain calm for a few moments more.

“I don’t think you understood exactly what I said,” he told the younger boy. “I said: I really enjoyed your
last
practical joke. Because, you know, it really will be your
last.”

“Oh, don’t threaten me, you—”

“The time for threats are over. The time for promises is here.”

Before Marty could wrap his small mind around Klaus’ meaning, Klaus raised his arm straight out, as if to point an accusing finger at the younger boy.