Under the Faraday Blanket - Ep. 01

Author's Notes:

This story doesn't take place on Earth. It takes place on a colonized moon, around an alien planet, in a not-too-far-away solar system. The featured planet is called Janina. It's larger than Earth and has several large moons as well. Every moon is habitable, but only the host planet has intelligent life. In exchange for the moons, Humans have mostly left Janina alone. Janinans still take part in business, tourism, recreation, crime, and private affairs. Our story begins generations into co-existence when co-habitation is on the rise and stigma against the alien race is on the fall. There is no warp-drive, worm-holes, or time-travel in this universe. Science has not yet broken the barrier on inter-species reproduction either. It has, on the other hand, solved long-distance space-travel, entangled communication, and isomeric fuel.

Thanks for reading.

Rated R for language, violence, fantasy gore, sexual content, and nudity.

Episode 1: What's Next?

Robert Delbrotic worked in radio tower repair and bulb replacement. Skyscrapers were his specialty. Tonight he was on the roof of the 163-story Hotel Arctangent. The radio tower stood another twenty stories taller. The bulb was burnt out.

Robert wore a utility suit and full helmet for the climb. A microfiber mesh covered like a second skin while a layer of lightweight plating gave the suit strength and structure. It fit snug. The suit came equipped with stunt wings, a parachute, and a belt for tools and materials.

At the base of the tower, Robert took inventory. The ladder loomed beside him. The night sky still shined bright with the light of planet Janina. The massive alien world hung overhead at full-phase. Like Earth, it glowed with an abundance of greens, blues, and whites. Around the planet, several moons glowed as well, gleaming at different phases. They shone in a range of colors with deserts, mountains, and lush jungle.

Robert tapped the interface on his forearm, launching the suit's system. The menu opened on his visor. Diagnostics ran beside it. The broad man next ejected a small drone from his belt. The device jetted out, unfolded its arms, and then hovered at his shoulder. The propellers whirred quietly. A camera was built into the body. Robert motioned it to back up.

Although the drone remained offline, the camera captured a bustling cityscape of skyscrapers, advertisements, and flying traffic. Buildings dazzled for miles. Attractions flashed on billboards, along the sides of buildings, and over rooftops in hologram. Vehicles puttered through streets and avenues across multiple levels. Aerial lanes were every twenty floors. Occasionally a police cruiser dropped out and raced by. Buses and other transit drove both horizontally and vertically between buildings.

The colors blue and purple illuminated the city the most. The government offered a tax-break for using the hues. The scheme paid respect to the Janinan people. The whole city was built in shrine, named after their Goddess of Commerce, Disra. The launch sites sat in the east. Shuttles left and landed constantly. The fuel burned smokeless. The lights made it look like an elevator field.

Before Robert began his climb, he started another program on his visor. A chat-box opened. It was his live-stream. The details scrolled along the bottom. A handful of users were already waiting. Tonight's job was one Robert could film. A couple guys caught most his climbs.

The drone hovered at a distance. The stream also included an angle from his helmet. When Robert went live, his regulars filled the chat.

"Hey, guys." Robert spoke with a slight drawl. He hooked himself to the safety-line. "I'm on the Hotel Arctangent tonight, and we got a typical burnout and replace." He fished a hefty bulb from his belt and showed it for the camera. "This is our replacement. Heard there might be a fuse blown, too. We'll see once we get up there."

A new user typed in the chat: Dude, those heights are nauseous!

Robert chuckled as he started to climb. "Yeah, they can be." A breeze blew and shook the tower some. "But I got my suit, so if I fall, that's just when the fun starts."

Some users laughed. In the background, his safety hook rattled.

Another asked: Yo, you ever fall for real?

"Sometimes," he mumbled. The breeze blew again. It was calm but felt heavy. The atmosphere here was denser than Earth's. "Every now and then I can slip. I prefer to use the wings if I do. Last time I had to throw the chute. Wind carried me over a block, but I caught a patio."

The chat laughed.

I remember that.

Another typed: He doesn't slip. He jumps.

While the regulars made light, Robert motioned the drone to get a view of the skyline. The microphone picked up someone honking. Someone else honked back. A stereo rumbled from a hotel suite.

Many of the neighboring buildings were shorter. From the radio tower, they appeared even more so. The drop in every direction was dizzying. The blues and purples ran to the ground.

Robert's safety hook continued to rattle. After a bit, a message on his visor alerted him. It came from outside his stream. It was a text from his girlfriend, Aja. Robert stopped climbing to read it. He furrowed his brow a moment. The drone eventually returned to find him motionless.

Hate to do it like this, it read. Had a lot of fun these last few weeks. My career might be taking off, so I wanted to let you know right away. It ain't anything you did. Just smarter for me to be single right now. Sorry, Bobby.

The stream remained dead a minute. His breathing shallowed. His mic picked it up. Users quickly scrolled with questions.

"Sorry, guys." Robert cleared his throat. "Just a bit of personal business, I apologize." He peeked at the chat. It was full.

What happened?

He sighed, then resumed his climb. "Yeah, the woman I was seeing just ended it. I kinda saw it coming, to be honest. Her work puts her in a pretty fast-paced world, so I knew I was just along for the ride."

The users made a couple snarky comments.

Someone asked: What does she do?

Robert paused once he reached the first junction. He disconnected his line fine, but he missed twice trying to re-hook it. "She's a rapper, actually. She's pretty good, too. I mean, up until now, I was a fan."

There were some more snarky comments.

"If we could drop it, though--" He deleted the message. "I'd really appreciate it. I'd like to focus on the job. I do have a bulb to replace, and I don't want anyone hitting the tower. Lots of traffic tonight."

The viewers relented. Robert motioned the drone to pan above afterward. Airspace in Disra was often busy. There were freight trucks, hover-cops, and a whole swarm of private fliers. A blimp floated just over the hotel. It was circling back to the nearby stadium. The playoffs for the Continental Slingball League were tonight. Many Janinans made the trip from home.

Miles out of the city, a discreet transport plane approached the bustle. The craft flew at exactly the speed limit. The thrusters along the wings burned a soft white. With the look of a string-ray, the plane provided good cover in the local skies. It was common among commercial delivery.

Onboard the pilot was dressed in full tactical gear. Two more soldiers sat in the back. The three men composed a team of bounty hunters. They owned and operated a service locally but worked with clients from Janina. They claimed to specialize off-planet.

Inside, the cabin was narrow with two rows of seats facing each other. The soldiers sat on one. The prisoner sat on the other. All three men appeared to carry light on weapons but heavy on body armor. One had a black eye. The other, claw marks across his face. The pilot lost half an ear. It was bitten off.

While the team discussed, a camera in the cabin recorded their prisoner. Cuffs restrained her wrists and ankles. The chain between connected through a hoop under her seat. An electronic collar bound her neck. They upgraded her shackles since their last run-in. Stone-faced, the young Janinan woman sat almost meditatively. She stared directly at the man with the claw-marks. Parts of his cheek were still under her fingernails.

Neither soldier flinched.

In silhouette, the Janinan race looked very similar to humans. Limbs grew long and lean. Bodies balanced curves on contours, strength on softness. Side by side however, the two were undoubtedly alien. Janinan skin varied in hue from blue to purple like human skin ranged fair to dark. The prisoner was a deep tint of purple. Janinan hair didn't grow like human hair either. Rather than strands, whole locks sprouted from their scalp. The thickness differed from person to person. Locks ranged from as thin as cable to as hefty as branch. Black seemed to be the only color it came in, but it faded in older age. For the prisoner, her hair was thick with only a few dozen locks in total. They stood straight up if she cut them short. She usually kept them longer so they bowed under their own weight. The look resembled an umbrella. The style was popular among her kin. It helped conceal her ears without obstructing them. For now, the petals remained tucked in their helix form.

"I'm not going back to the cliffs," she said, squinting between the soldiers. As her eyes narrowed, the angle of her lids also rotated inward. The entire socket adjusted like an aperture. The brows dropped and slanted. The bridge pinched. Altogether her face appeared as whet as arrow. Her dark irises sharpened the look. The color matched her violet skin.

Again neither soldier flinched.

The younger soldier, the one with the claw-marks, pulled out a communicator. He activated the camera to check his wounds.

"What's wrong with the cliffs?" he asked, admiring himself in the screen. He didn't seem too concerned. "I thought you liked slinging."

The prisoner scowled. Her chains clattered.

The other soldier scoffed. He was a little older. His black-eye looked like it'd been drained. "She'll be lucky if she gets the cliffs. After this bullshit, she should get the dungeon."

His younger partner put his com back. "Nah, I'm sure mommy will go easy on her. No one's been killed yet. I'm thinking the boss will make her work it off."

The older soldier smirked. "I suppose. That ship she crashed, that might get her hunting bile for a good couple years."

They both laughed.

The prisoner grimaced, sitting up straighter. "We'll see."

Last time they caught her it took weeks. This time it was months. She'd been escaping since she was a teenager. They tracked her down at the outskirts of the city. She was working security for a construction company. In the north, dense jungle bordered the city. Any expansion faced a thick phalanx of trees alongside an army of alien fauna. Humans did most the logging. Janinans watched for beasts. The team of bounty hunters nabbed her right from canopy patrol. She was still dressed in the undergarments of her uniform. They took the armored parts and belt. They left the shorts and scant top.

When the team crossed into downtown, a pair of police lights flashed on ahead. The pulses alternated red and blue. A siren followed. Cursing, the pilot shifted down and flashed his lights. A message soon came over the intercom.

"Attention aircraft." The voice was raspy, male. "Your heat signature is high. Is your engine running hot?"

The soldier with the claw-marks hung his head. His partner smacked him upside the helmet. The pilot quickly tapped to connect them.

"What happened? Is our engine faulty?"

"No," the younger soldier said. "I topped off the main-line with our reserve, the good stuff. We were out of regular. I didn't think we'd make it."

"And you didn't report it?" The older soldier peered out his window. "Let me guess, the fire trap set us back?"

"Yep."

The prisoner smirked. Days ago they torched the edge of a river. They tried to cut her off. It didn't work.

"Alright," the pilot said. "Standard protocol. We have nothing to hide."

The soldier with the black-eye pointed at her. "Keep your mouth shut, you hear me? Unless you want to see our dungeons, not a word."

She clenched her jaw and slouched. Her chains clattered.

Outside, the wing engines switched into hover-mode. The housing rumbled. The craft pulled aside, stopped. Traffic buzzed around them like lightning bugs.

The patrolling officer approached slowly. He seemed to be without backup. The suited cops often worked alone. In a full thruster unit and dual jet-pack, he boosted beside the cockpit and hovered. The pilot patched him into the radio.

"Good evening, Gentlemen," the officer said. "Any idea why you might be running a fever?"

"Wrong fuel," the pilot said. It was half true. "My engineer added our accelerant early. The mixture must've hit before I shifted down."

"I see." The officer glanced around the vehicle. He tapped his helmet to request identification. Once he spotted the prisoner, he startled and hit the emergency line. "What are we hauling tonight?" He looked back to the cockpit. "She okay?"

"She's fine," the pilot said bluntly. "Better than any of us, if you must know." He pointed to his injured ear. After, he accessed his dashboard and sent over their information. "I'll send you our orders, and you can see for yourself."

A company brochure and bounty report opened on his visor. The files came with a short movie that played automatically. It showcased their office, some weaponry, and a reel of businesses they worked with. The spokeswoman was busty.

The emergency line called back during. It took a moment to get the officer's attention. He reported a false alarm then promptly disconnected.

The bounty report appeared on screen next. Half of it was blank. The officer only recognized the company that issued the warrant: Trin Family Enterprises. They made his favorite beer. The risk level for the prisoner was crimson red. In the expertise column, it listed the sling-belt, the spear, and hand-to-hand combat. The pilot spoke over the report.

"In short, Officer, we have a rich girl on the run and a very rich family who wants her back. I mean no disrespect. I hope you can understand. This family, this kind of wealth, they usually don't work with law enforcement, especially off-planet, if you copy?"

"I do," the officer said, peering through the window again. He looked longer this time. The alien woman caught him staring. She sat up and peered back with a softer look across her brow. The officer fidgeted. "Well I wouldn't want to cause an interplanetary incident."

"Precisely."

"May I see her, though?" he asked. The thrusters in his boots growled. "One professional to another. The cop in me needs to see that she's okay."

The pilot nodded then tapped his dash for the door. "Of course."

Between the cockpit and the wing, a strip of the plane opened like a drawbridge. The pistons hissed. The hum of the engines warbled to adjust. At the end of the door, a platform unfolded into a crude landing pad. The officer boosted onto it once it lit up. He landed with a slight clunk. He switched his suit to standby as he walked inside. The door remained open behind him.

The two soldiers greeted him without standing. The prisoner sat up straighter. She eyed the alloy suit carefully. Still stone-faced, she noted the joints, the thrusters, the bulk.

"Whoa," the officer blurted. He almost flinched at the sight of her. The shackles made him uncomfortable. The collar was worse. Her wrists and ankles were cuffed with little slack between. "Okay... By the look of it, she seems okay."

The prisoner tilted her head. Her thick locks bristled shifting to one side.

The officer ogled her behind his visor. "Maybe a little better than okay."

The younger soldier chuckled. "I'll warn you, Officer, she speaks our language."

"Do you like what you see," the prisoner interrupted. She arched her back and spread her legs to sell it. A strap fell off her shoulder.

He didn't answer. The soldiers sat up sharply.

"I did that." She nodded to the men across the aisle. "I beat them up bad. I've broken a lot of your laws, Officer."

"That's enough," barked the soldier with the black-eye.

The prisoner ignored him, crooning. "I could be your prisoner. You could throw me in your dungeon."

"That's enough, Kat!" The older soldier pulled his com and activated her collar. The diodes turned red. His partner tried to stop him. He zapped her anyway.

The jolt gripped her neck. She tensed but remained silent. The officer extended his shock baton immediately.

"Do not do that again!" he ordered, holding the stick at the man's bad eye. The tip crackled and spit small bolts.

The solider simply brushed it aside. Some of the charge dissipated against his glove.

"Relax." He stuffed the com back into his vest. "She's fine. She just needs to be reminded to take things seriously sometimes. You know rich girls."

"Regardless, Soldier." The officer raised his voice. His speaker box deepened it. "The report said you return her unharmed. I'm barely allowing the chains."

The soldier with the claw-marks spluttered his lips. "That's funny. We just had to upgrade those cuffs. Hell, we should probably upgrade all the ship's rigging."

"Regardless," the officer repeated.

The prisoner perked up. The younger soldier used the same tone with her shackles last time. No one else noticed.

A second later, a loud ping echoed through the cabin. The hoop under her seat snapped. Everyone jumped. The soldiers scrambled to unbuckle. The officer aimed his baton at her.

She launched herself across the cabin first. Her shackles kept her in a loose ball. She slammed into the two soldiers crosswise and backward. Their heads smacked the wall. Both went limp. The seat-belts held them upright.

The officer fumbled. He stumbled stepping in front of the door.

"Hey now," he said. "Slow down. If it's this bad, I can help you."

She launched herself at him second. Dropping her shoulder she slammed into his chest plate. It shoved him out the door. The baton dropped. The officer stumbled. The prisoner jumped onto his chest plate next. While he tried to peel her off, she rocked him side to side, trying to pull him overboard.

"I don't want to hurt you," he shouted.

Downtown shimmered a thousand feet below. Traffic lights flurried in all directions. The wing engines rumbled beside them. In the ship, the pilot stormed out of the cockpit to help his men.

After a couple yanks, the prisoner succeeded pulling the officer off the platform. They didn't fall far. He simply switched on his boots. He transitioned so smoothly her chains hardly clangored.

"Please, stop," he yelled. "I'm not your enemy."

Without a word, she dropped from his chest to his pants. She caught his belt, hooking her ankles under his heels. Her cuffs blocked the thrusters. The blaze roared against the metal.

They plummeted. Gauges swung wildly. A warning sounded in his helmet: Obstruction! Her feet blackened and bubbled. Her cuffs glowed orange.

"Stop," the officer begged. "You'll get someone killed!"

A mile away, Robert continued to work atop the Hotel Arctangent. His drone hovered beside him. He sat in his hitch and switched bulbs, joking with his stream. He pretended to almost drop the old one. The camera captured the officer in the background. He was a faint blip skittishly falling between lanes of traffic.

"I'm ordering you to stop," he hollered. "I'll drop us. I'll drive us into the roofs."

The prisoner shrieked for joy when her shackles finally broke. The pins melted. She kicked free as the ends flailed behind her. The sudden release also freed his boots. The thrusters rocketed upward. The whole suit yanked.