- So, you’ll explain why you were using the skullclamp while sleeping ? - Jenny put the equipment on the bedside table while getting up.
- You know I need to get better at driving the ship through the system. Next job is hard - Frustrated, Marco pushed the blanket to the side and noted the chest covered in sweat. - The clamp works. It just gives some bad dreams, nothing really dangerous.
- Not dangerous to focused people. Isn’t healthy for people with irregular Ether levels to meditate - heading towards the door Jenny stopped and said, in a lighter tone. - Next time I’ll film you screaming like a baby.
After she left, the crazy nightmare crossed his mind. It was of public knowledge that skullclamps could give you some bad dreams. But, since the shot to his head, Marco couldn’t meditate anymore. Doctors said the brain wasn’t dangerously damaged, only the Ether control would be affected, becoming sloppy and, by consequence, making it impossible to meditate in a stable wavelength.
As an illegal deliveryman, Marco needed to maintain all information up to date or jobs would become scarce. Information is everything, more so when your life might depend on it. The job was to deliver anything anywhere, other than that, the hirer didn’t even need to be known. Of course, the delivery man works on his own terms, but the difference in paychecks, for some gigs, was too much to dismiss. For now, trying to meditate was the only way to keep up with competition in this line of work.
---
Nova-6-1’s blue sunlight flooded the kitchen through the open shutter windows, giving everything a pale tone. Jenny was making breakfast while doing maintenance in her guns. The skullclamp’s spectral shadow moved precisely, without any wasted moviment, a weird combination of ethereal abstract and robotic precision. Marco could only envy Jenny’s perfect Ether control.
In the far end of the kitchen table, Onb’lok studied his tablet. Onb’lok’s hair was spread all over the kitchen’s floor. The strange Nuskian was quiet almost all the time, only speaking when needed.
- You cooking is a rare sight - Marco said, sitting in front of Onb’lok. - Onb’lok, could you please don’t let your hair thrown like that.
- Onb’lok is planning the delivery schedule and we can’t eat the shit you try to make. You are stuck with my cooking skills.
- I’ll restrain my armor when I’m finished - Onb’lok said, without looking at Marco. - Please, if everything goes according to plan, wait 12 minutes and 32 seconds. No… 35 seconds, pardon my error.
- For a Nuskian you’re pretty messy.
- Well, I’m not an ideal one. As you’d say: I flunk school - Onb’lok monotone voice didn’t show any kind of annoyance with Marco’s provocation.
- How’s the plan going ?
- Pick up the cargo in Nova-6-1’s slums, on the other side of the planet, and transport it to Marshall’s Enterprises system. They’ll contact us after systemic detection. Now you’ll have to wait 12 minutes and 05 seconds until I’m finished.
- Onb’lok forgot about the important part, Nova-6-1’s slums are territory of an ongoing gang war. The war itself isn’t the issue, but it can get in our way - Jenny complemented Onb’lok’s report.
- The place is set and the contact will be there in exactly 5 hours 22 minutes and 16 seconds. Our skullclamps should be in the given wavelengths to enter the building. Here they are - Onb’lok gave Marco a microchip. - So, please, don’t forget to adjust yours since you’re the flawed one. We have a 68,23% chance of getting killed over any stability problem of yours.
- Can’t you do it for me since if I, the flawed one, do wrong we all die ? - Marco said with an annoyed tone.
- That would be for the best. Thank you - Onb’lok gave Marco a cold smile.
A fucking fake smile. I hate when he plays with me like that, Marco thinked to himself. He’s right, that's the part I hate the most…
Paired and stable wavelengths were a safe way to know that none was recording the transaction. Since the use of skullclamps is so common, it wasn’t strange to see people with internal transplants or the clamp straight up attached to the brain. Without the visual identification, it's easy to cloak Ether's radiation waves. And, obviously, any real transaction wouldn’t let you enter the room, or even the building, with electronic equipment.
- Food is ready.
The sudden announcement stopped Marco’s ramble. The nightmare made him hungry, but the shock numbed the feeling. Jenny was right, Marco hated his own food but never tried to learn the proper way. That’s what he’d thinked until seeing what was in front of him.
- What’s that purple thing and why is it moving ?
- Is a planetary signature dish. Natives say it’s tastier when you kill it - Onb’lok explained while stabbing the thing with a knife. - Also, they believe Shaikat graces each soul that follows life’s natural cycle.
- I don’t care what they believe, it's just gross to kill and eat it like that. Call me a pussy or a coward, but I’m not doing that - Marco made a disgusted face. - I don’t eat meat, you’all know that.
- Isn’t meat - Jenny explained. - It’s a kind of plant or bacteria thing that moves, just that.
- Actually, it’s an animal similar to the Scyphozoa class from Origin-3-1 - after some moments of silence and confused faces towards him, Onb’lok proceeded. - It’s similar to a jellyfish… And, correcting your self classification, you’re a hypocrite, Marco.
- You can have mine, I’m gonna eat our emergency rations - Marco got up and exited the kitchen. As he walked towards the door, Marco slipped up in Onb’lok’s hair. On the floor, he threw a harsh look at them. And, steadily, rushed out of the room.
- Was the “hypocrite” too much ? - Onb’lok asked.
- I don’t think so. Let him be - Jenny stabbed the “jellyfish”.
---
From the top of the ship, the city sky gave the scenario an odd grayish look, making everything a lifeless painting. It was early morning, only some hovercars could be seen at distance and traffic would become chaotic in an hour or so.
Sometimes, like a bad omen, Marco could feel the head wound. As the fingers passed through the irregular scar, the moment flashed in his mind. Under cover, could hear his teammates screaming to get out, but, stubborn as he was, Marco’s skills were up to the task. With two accurate shots and three or four seconds of shielding it was possible to kill the enemy and pick up the suitcase, having more than a second to get in cover again.
The two shots were precise, killing the closer ones and creating an opening. What Marco didn’t take into account was the blood on the floor from one of the early invaders. One simple slip and his mind went blank. The shield took one shot, and he knew it couldn’t take more. Marco threw himself into cover, but it was too late. In less than a second he turned off. The momentum of the movement made his body end up thrown at the open room where he planned to take cover with the suitcase, but not in all its entirety.
One bullet went through his hard palate, making its way to the other side of his head and one lodged to the right leg. The fight came in intervals between loud noises and screams and pure silence. The next thing he remembers is to be in a restitutional clinical bath at some hospital on that planet.
- Here’s your equipment, Marco - coming out of nowhere, silent as a shadow, Onb’lok showed up with Marco's skullclamp and an Ether flask. - Test it before we go. You have 2 hours 32 minutes and 02 seconds.
- Could you please announce yourself before scaring me ? - Marco said, startled after the abrupt end of his moment. - Thank you, anyway...
- You’re welcome - Onb’lok ignored Marco’s complaint and headed inside, the wind blowing his long hair as he walked.
Looking at the flask he saw the ether compound label. A xylofitin dimer, he thinked. The same I used that day. Opening the flask he coupled it to the clamp and attached its claws to his nape implants. After a deep breath, Marco turned it on.
The data he was analysing while sleeping still wasn’t completely read. When putting the clamp’s “brain” to analyse and compile data, the real one could end up losing focus and just enter the normal sleep cycle. This transition leads to nightmares, but, more importantly, interrupts the clamp midway through the process.
After the complete data review, he looked at the ship’s carcass, an alloy of gold and platinum, his right hand began to cover itself, reaching up to the elbow, with a similar material. In a matter of seconds, it became a malleable metal layer covering his skin. That was his speciality, shielding. But, Marco could also do some simple inorganic reactions.
The alloy layer wasn’t perfect, some of the substitution particles became unstable and a glitching effect could be seen. He would have to ask Onb’lok to increase the clamp auto calculation ratio. Precision would go down, but stability is more important when dealing with a full body layer.
As he tried to change the alloy composition, numbers, painted in a red light, began to show up in the shield layer.
01001101 010001001111111111111
000
01110110
11111111111111111111111
00101101 01000000000000001 00110010
What the fuck is that ?, this was the first time Marco has seen this phenomenon. Seems like a coding error. I’m not a binary expert, but this doesn’t mean anything. The strange thing about it was the fact that skullclamps had a shutdown system to avoid malfunction or miscalculations accidents. Maybe Onb’lok could have increased its tolerance to variations due to my instability. Gonna check this with him.
As he meditated about the malfunction, the layer pressure in his arm increased, as if the numbers began to gain weight. In a split second, they disappeared and, as smoke went up, the numbers were stamped to the ship’s carcass, right by his side.
After that, Marco’s only reaction was to turn off the clamp. They had only a few hours until the delivery and everything needed to be working properly. With that in mind, he got through the hatch and headed inside.
