Point Blank
The last time I came through Hadrian's Point I killed a man.
It was maybe two years ago, I was flying for a man named Yen Li. He was brutal, lawless, but he paid well, which is what I needed at the time. I was a drifter, hiring out for jobs here and there, crashing in junkspots in between, A waste of time, but there wasn't much else to do. Space debris.
Li had a penchant for stealing from other Runners, he'd go out of his way to prove himself the pirate king. We made it into the system and found the only other Runner ship there. We got aboard, as was Li's style, and took out the crew to get the cargo. I came up against a man, he was angry and desperate, swinging and shooting wildly. I knocked the gun from his hand and brought my leg up to break his jaw, but he dodged and caught me. Though he was stronger I managed to twist away and wrench myself out of range of the knife he had pulled from his belt. As I slipped free he dove at me again, so I brought up my gun between us, leveled it at his heart, and pulled the trigger.
He stopped, suddenly, and opened his eyes wide in surprise. He had brown eyes, with tired-looking rings beneath them. His hair was shaggy and black, there was a tattoo on his hand.
There was a strange moment of silence around us as he took a stumbling step toward me, a confused look on his face. Seconds later his heart couldn't find any more blood to pump through the hole in his chest, and he toppled forward onto the deck.
He was a young man, probably new to Running. I could feel the warm spatter of his blood on my face and hands.
"You saved the boy from a lifetime of crime!" laughed Li, which is why I didn't care when, a year later, I heard that he had turned up dead.
That young man's death doesn't haunt me, I'm not sure that it should. Being here reminds me of him, but it reminds me of a lot of things. Space looks pretty much the same no matter where you go, and I've been most everywhere. I've spent fourteen years wandering, two years jumping wildly from end to end, months drifting alone past the borders of what we know. If I filled it with memories I'd go mad.
The universe is a void, like the last choking breath of that man I shot. The only warmth, the only hope, the only chance we have is here, with people. Here on a ship of criminals, a tiny compartment floating through the night. If I didn't believe that, I'd have let myself out into the emptiness long ago.
It was maybe two years ago, I was flying for a man named Yen Li. He was brutal, lawless, but he paid well, which is what I needed at the time. I was a drifter, hiring out for jobs here and there, crashing in junkspots in between, A waste of time, but there wasn't much else to do. Space debris.
Li had a penchant for stealing from other Runners, he'd go out of his way to prove himself the pirate king. We made it into the system and found the only other Runner ship there. We got aboard, as was Li's style, and took out the crew to get the cargo. I came up against a man, he was angry and desperate, swinging and shooting wildly. I knocked the gun from his hand and brought my leg up to break his jaw, but he dodged and caught me. Though he was stronger I managed to twist away and wrench myself out of range of the knife he had pulled from his belt. As I slipped free he dove at me again, so I brought up my gun between us, leveled it at his heart, and pulled the trigger.
He stopped, suddenly, and opened his eyes wide in surprise. He had brown eyes, with tired-looking rings beneath them. His hair was shaggy and black, there was a tattoo on his hand.
There was a strange moment of silence around us as he took a stumbling step toward me, a confused look on his face. Seconds later his heart couldn't find any more blood to pump through the hole in his chest, and he toppled forward onto the deck.
He was a young man, probably new to Running. I could feel the warm spatter of his blood on my face and hands.
"You saved the boy from a lifetime of crime!" laughed Li, which is why I didn't care when, a year later, I heard that he had turned up dead.
That young man's death doesn't haunt me, I'm not sure that it should. Being here reminds me of him, but it reminds me of a lot of things. Space looks pretty much the same no matter where you go, and I've been most everywhere. I've spent fourteen years wandering, two years jumping wildly from end to end, months drifting alone past the borders of what we know. If I filled it with memories I'd go mad.
The universe is a void, like the last choking breath of that man I shot. The only warmth, the only hope, the only chance we have is here, with people. Here on a ship of criminals, a tiny compartment floating through the night. If I didn't believe that, I'd have let myself out into the emptiness long ago.
posted by Scout | 8:43 PM
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