Intergalactic Pest Control

Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Sector 12 Transgalactic Station

The Notches wasted no time hauling ass out of there.

Cody pulled up the schematics on his wrist-mounted computer. “Turn left up here. There’s an elevator in that corridor. We can get off this level and regroup.”

The skittering had begun to build again—the rumble of thunder on the horizon. A lone ShimVen dropped through the ceiling and slashed at Reggie’s heel, knocking his feet out from under him. The bug was on top of him before Cody and Joel turned around. A small fountain of red erupted from Reggie’s shoulder as the ShimVen’s pointed leg stabbed into it.

Reggie screamed and flailed. Joel kicked the bug, sending it onto its back. Cody jumped forward and crushed its head with his heel. They pulled Reggie to his feet and held him upright as they ran to the elevator.

They didn’t stop running until they stepped inside and slammed into the back wall. The soft ding and closing doors brought with them a sigh of relief—an unwarranted one, as the swarm of bugs was still in the walls and definitely out for blood.

Joel looked Reggie over. His face was drained of color and his shoulder covered in blood.

“Let me look at it,” Joel told his injured friend.

Reggie turned and rested his forehead against the elevator wall.

“Ugh,” Cody said. “That is disgusting. I can see inside your body.”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” Reggie said, his voice quivering. “How bad is it?”

“Just a flesh wound. Nothing a medkit can’t fix,” Joel said. “I’ve got one on me. Once we’re up top, I’ll patch you up.”

“A flesh wound,” Reggie reiterated. “You sure? They didn’t put any eggs in me? I really don’t want to have any babies.”

Joel took a closer look at the wound, studying it with all of his medical knowledge, which was exactly none. The deep laceration looked bloody and gross, that’s all he knew.

He shrugged at Cody and made a face like, ‘What the hell do I know?’ but he said, “All clear, pal. Egg-free.”

The elevator lurched to a halt on the main floor, which was four up from the level where they were almost eaten alive. The guys held their breath as the doors dinged, hoping for clear skies, but expecting another wave of death and pincers. As the doors slid open, they realized they’d been granted the reprieve they needed—no bugs. However, the infrastructure was well chewed, meaning the damn bugs had been there.

Joel checked to ensure that the floor was clear, as Reggie fell out of the elevator in a heap and collapsed onto the floor. Cody slid down beside him and they lay silent and still for a moment, happy to be free from the chaos. Joel bent over, taking in deep breaths before preparing to patch Reggie’s wound.

He tore open the medkit and assessed the contents. He’d never actually used one before, but he knew he had to sell it with confidence to keep Reggie at ease. He said a silent prayer when he found illustrated directions inside.

Cody sat up, his eyes glazed over. “We have seventeen hours to clear this station?”

Reggie chuckled uncomfortably. “Well, now that you mention it, it’s more like fifteen hours at this point.”

Cody threw up his arms. “Of course! And how do you expect us to eradicate that entire swarm in fifteen hours?”

Joel sprayed some saline into Reggie’s open wound, eliciting a series of grunts and hisses. “I don’t know, Cody,” Joel said. “Maybe we can use this so-lethal-you-can-only-buy-it-on-the-black-market chem you procured. It appears to be doing the trick.”

“Black market?” Reggie asked, a groan in his voice. “We can’t use stuff bought on the black market. That’s illegal.”

Cody’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Yeah, I’m sorry. And as it turns out, I may have been deceived about the product I was getting.”

“No s**t,” Joel said. “We’re covered in Killmaximus, and I don’t even have so much as a rash from it.”

Cody scratched at his chin and shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I should’ve known. The guy who sold it to me definitely had gingivitis. Never trust someone with poor dental hygiene.”

Reggie winced as Joel pressed the bandage onto his wound. “Whatever,” he said. “No use fighting about it now. We just need to find a way to waste the rest of these bugs in the next fifteen hours.”

“Seriously?” Cody said. “You want to keep on with this job?”

Something stirred in Reggie. It could have been defensiveness, but he didn’t think it was. It felt like something deeper, something rooted in purpose rather than the shallow nature of saving face.

“Okay, I admit it, I may have bitten off more than we can chew,” Reggie said reluctantly.

“As did the bug which took a chunk out of your shoulder,” Joel joked.

Reggie sort of laughed before continuing. “But seriously, this was our chance to build something for ourselves. After losing the VRE championships, professional gaming was off the table. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t do something great with our lives. So, yeah, I may have bid aggressively for this job. But it’s our first one, and this is the sort of job that could get us a reputation. We complete this in record time, and we can have any contract we want in the galaxy. So what do you say, guys? Are you ready to build something with me?”

Cody and Joel exchanged nervous looks, hesitation teeming in their eyes. And then they burst out laughing.

“Great speech,” Joel said, wiping away a tear. “I’m so inspired right now.”

“Totally,” Cody agreed. “Let’s go Braveheart on these bugs.”

Reggie couldn’t help but smile. It may not have been his intention to break the tension, but it was a suitable outcome. “Oh, be quiet. You Notches know I’m right. We’re going to kill these bugs and make a name for ourselves in the galactic pest control business. We’re going to build lives for ourselves that we’re proud of!”

“Holy s**t, man,” Joel said. “Yes, fine, we’ll kill the bugs. If you stop trying to get us all to group hug.” He extended two hands, one to Reggie and the other to Cody. They took them, and he helped them both to their feet before they turned their attention to the long corridor in front of them.

The guys scouted the floor, which was largely open with few barriers, as far as visibility was concerned. It was the level where all visitors entered and declared their items and sorted out whatever business they had come to settle. There were a few offices, meeting rooms and waiting areas—it was mostly an administrative floor. There were no control panels or exposed wires for ShimVens to chew through like on the lower floors, so they weren’t likely to venture up this far.

“This looks like a good place to reset and strategize,” Cody said, poking his head into an empty office. He tried to help Reggie into the room, but the bigger guy shrugged him off, saying he was fine.

Joel studied the schematics again, picking each level apart, looking for anything he could use to their advantage.

Cody went to work hacking into the computer systems. They were outdated, but, like the aged infrastructure, that was common on these stations. They didn’t need anything but the basics to track incoming and outgoing shipments, handle payroll, or monitor inventory. However, most of the basic functions of the station—heating, cooling, water, air—were automated and controlled by computers.

That alone is reason enough to have upgraded the system ages ago, Cody thought. However, not everyone appreciated computers the way he did.

Reggie moved his arm, trying to get used to the new hole in it. After some cajoling, he took the painkillers that Joel was trying to give him. Reggie didn’t like the thought of dulling his senses in the middle of a fight, but being able to use his arm was probably more important.

“They definitely didn’t like fire,” Cody said after a lengthy silence. “We could use that.”

“It would be tricky to use on a large scale in such tight quarters, though,” Joel countered. “I almost burned our asses off. Though I may be able to mod our chem blasters… rig up some kind of flamethrower. That would be awesome.”

Cody furrowed his brow as he read further into the station’s computer systems. Then his eyes lit up. “And I can hack the automated systems. Heating, cooling, and the fuel refilling pods in the hangar bay. Should be enough flammable material in there to incinerate every last bug. I may be able to sort out some kind of delivery system, too.” He furrowed his brow again and dove back into the material.

Reggie clapped his hands. “See? This is what I was talking about. The Notches coming together to sort out some business. Who are we? Creative problem solvers!” He put his hand out, intending to start one of those ‘go team’ hand pumping circles. Cody and Joel just stared at him, leaving him hanging out to dry. “No, it’s cool. I know teamwork when I see it. We don’t have to celebrate it or anything,” Reggie said, waving his hand for emphasis.

Joel gently pushed Reggie’s hand down. “But you know what we do have to do, instead of cheerleader rituals? Gather supplies.” He typed a list into his wristcom and sent it to Reggie. “You should find all that stuff in the hangar bay.”

A shadow fell over Reggie’s face. “Wait, you want me to go alone? What happened to teamwork?”

Joel didn’t look up from his wristcom. “I need to get modding these chemguns if they’re going to be useful in time to finish this job on schedule.”

“And this hack job is going to take me some time. I’ll monitor from here,” Cody said, also not looking up from his wristcom. “If I see any bugs, I’ll let you know.”

The confusion on Reggie’s face morphed into disappointment with a little twinge of hurt. “No, it’s cool. I understand. You’ve got your jobs, I’ll go gather supplies.” He stood and stretched his shoulder, exaggerating the pain a bit in hopes of eliciting some sympathy. In fact, he wasn’t feeling much better after the painkillers.

“Also, you’ll need to leave your chemgun with me so I can fix it,” Joel stated, indicating the weapon at Reggie’s side.

He gulped, handing the gun over. “Right. Of course. No problem.”

“So far, the monitor shows you’re clear of bugs on this floor,” Cody said.

Reggie nodded, bolstering his confidence. “I got this. Don’t you Notches worry about me.”

He walked out of the office with his head high but his spirits a tad low. He wasn’t worried about venturing into the dark corners of the bug-infested space station. Not really. He occasionally worried about the Notches. Getting knocked out of the VRE championships was a real blow to them as a unit. They were a team. A kickass video game team who could dominate just about anyone in Return to Order. They had a reputation. They were feared and respected. And now they were pest control experts. Well, novices posing as experts.

He worried that without pro gaming, there would be nothing to hold them together. But they were a team before their dreams of pro gaming; they would stick together after, now that it had fallen apart. They would stick together even with the bug guts piling up around them.

Reggie found the hangar bay without issue. It was the largest sector of the station, full of empty ships and stacks of cargo. The money that merchants must have lost with every minute those crates stayed stationary was probably more than Reggie would ever see. He was hit with a rare twang of jealousy, thinking about the disparity between the value he’d be saving for his clients and the amount he’d be compensated for doing so.

“Gratitude,” he said to himself.

He reminded himself as often as possible to be grateful for what he had. Even though he was trudging through space-bug goo, it was a job, and he was doing it with his best friends.

Focus on the positive.

“You find that s**t yet?” Joel said over comms.

“Not yet,” Reggie replied.

“Christ, you’re slow,” Joel teased.

Gratitude.

“Yeah, I see it,” Reggie said a minute later. He had found the repair shop in the far corner of the hangar bay. He grabbed the tools and parts, mostly tubing and connectors, and tossed them in his bag.

Securing his pack, he made his way to the fueling station in the center of the big room. Canisters of fuel about the size of milk jugs were stacked high and precariously, like a tower of dominoes. Pull the wrong one, and the entire thing toppled. Fortunately, Reggie was the patient type.

Unfortunately, as he removed the first container, he discovered a ShimVen sucking fuel out of one of the others. The bug was the size of a poodle. An angry poodle who didn’t want to share its snack. The ShimVen hissed at Reggie, spitting fuel at his chest, its eyes glowing. Reggie stumbled backward, his shoulder screaming from the movement. The bug lunged, its massive pincers ready to lop off his head.