Diary Of An Earth Citizen - A Short Story

[Destro6677]

Dear diary,

It's been a while. I haven't had the guts to face up to what happened to Timmy.

When they took him, it was so sudden. We were in the car, on the way back from school when they stopped us.

Special genetics task force they said. They'd help him, and take away his pain they said.

The pain of what? Of living under their godforsaken regime on this polluted rock? The pain of being isolated from his classmates because he had no birth defects, no speech impediments? That he had perfect motor skills?

My son, who could be a great athlete, genius scientist, stunning philosopher, gone.

And I couldn't stop them.

Molly cried for an entire week. She went through all his things, even dug up the old baby shower gifts. She spent hours in his room, staring at his bed, talking to his picture.

I wonder if she's losing it.

Am I losing it?

Ever since the promotion at work, I've had the feeling of someone watching me.

It's gotten so bad I don't dare use the office toilet. I hear scratching noises from the balcony at night, but whenever I get up to check, there's nothing there.

It doesn't help that Phil just disappeared. He'd been working late one night on an integrated exosuit for those mongoloid bastards.

If he'd succeeded, we'd have millions of credits in revenue, even at the cheapskate rates they pay us. When the night guard checked in on him, he was just gone, and so was the data. It was like he'd evaporated. None of the alarms had gone off, nothing had been tampered with, it was just, gone.

I've been having second thoughts about taking up the portfolio. We brought up a backup copy from the secure warehouse, but with Phil gone I doubt it'll go anywhere. I'm no good at this exosuit stuff. After what happened to Timmy, I almost don't want to. It'll pay well though. If I don't, who'll pay for my kids' apprenticeship to the spacer guilds? What'll happen to Molly? I just can't bear to think about it.

I've been hearing rumors lately. So many people have gone missing in my line of work. Arms dealers, middlemen, prostheses suppliers, the whole shebang. Never turn your back on a Grineer. That's the last thing my cousin told me before his alloy plate factory had a meltdown with him inside it.

What worries me though, is it might not be the Grineer at all. If anything happens, my last will and testament is in the desk drawer.

From now on, I'm keeping a loaded gun under my pillow. If the rumors are true, I'll wish I was dead rather than let them get me.

Edited July 3, 2013 by Destro6677

[Dr-Jelly]

Great story. The story is interesting and mysterious.

[Destro6677]

To be honest, I just wrote this cuz I felt in the mood. I don't know if I'll be continuing it any time soon. Glad you like it though.

[Tomyhunter]

no really, continue, its good, worth of reading unlike most of the threads on this forum

Edited July 1, 2013 by Tomyhunter

[Valentine_Grim]

It has it's great moments, but I couldn't help but notice that it is way too close to what we have now, rather than post-Orokin-whenever-it-is. I don't think that under Grineer regime there are still cars, schools and pillows. Let alone obviously of-our'era names like Timmy, Molly and Phil. Yet, all things aside, it is great to see an inspirational spark like this. Way to go!

P.S. Ambassador Timmy Hek. Molly de Taym. Phil Kril. Last reminders of old days.

[Destro6677]

Dear diary,

 

I know for sure now I'm being followed. 

 

This morning at the maglev train platform. I felt like someone was looking at me but I couldn't be sure. When I put down my bag to open my rain shield, that's when I caught a glimpse of him. A tall guy wearing one of those old all-weather coats with a hood. He had a rebreather on, so I couldn't see his face. But I knew he was looking at me. When I met his gaze, he strolled ahead. I knew it was him.

 

On the way to work, I stopped at my regular place to get some food. I looked across the road and there he was again, just casually walking past. 

 

I walked out the door and saw him turn in to an alley. I don't like violence but I'd had enough. I haven't survived this long in the arms business by being a nice guy. So I turned my stun baton to maximum and went after him.

 

Guess what, the alley was empty. It was a complete dead end. A high brick wall at the end, no fire escapes on the sides. I even checked the dumpsters. He was just, gone. There's no way I can explain it.

 

I've decided to take up the exosuit portfolio. My kids need the credits. Except for Timmy that is. If I know the Grineer, he's probably floating in a tank somewhere - I can't think about it. Not now. 

 

I'll need the credits too. Bigger guns and maybe some body armor, soon. That portfolio isn't exactly public knowledge, and I know a lot of people who'd like to see it get trashed because the two experts running it  'went away'.

 

Molly left me today. She said she needed some time alone to think things over. And she reminded me it was my idea that we move to Earth when we left Venus. Sure, I'm a graduate of one of the Sol system's premier engineering universities. But it doesn't take a PhD to do the math that moving to Pluto was way out of our reach back then. Sure, it pays better to work with the Corpus. We just couldn't afford the moving shuttle.

 

There's a meeting with the Grineer reps tomorrow. It's in the office, but I'm packing my stun baton anyway. 

 

I have the house all to myself tonight. I've triple checked all the doors and windows and shut all the exterior ventilation systems. And I brought back a stun grenade. If Mr. weathercoat tries to get in, he'll have a nasty headache when he wakes up.

Edited July 2, 2013 by Destro6677

[Destro6677]

Dear diary,

 

It's been a long hard day. I really need a drink.

 

The meeting with the Grineer reps today didn't go as I anticipated.

 

Instead of the usual degenerates, I had the dubious privilege of meeting one of their officers. A big woman, taller than me, with a prosthetic hand and leg. Her Sol Common was amazing for a Grineer. She insisted it wasn't safe to talk in the office, and escorted me at gunpoint to her car.

 

She took me to a Grineer outpost in the Old Quarter. The business talks only started once we were in the conference room in the middle of the damn fortress. 

 

The Grineer want the integrated exosuits up and running within 2 standard galactic weeks. No delays or the deal is off. They can't afford to wait any longer. Apparently, it has something to do with some kind of artifact that they want to get out of an old mining asteroid. The problem is, the asteroid is overrun with Infested. Not even the Grineer dare to get close to those things without some protection.

 

Before Phil disappeared, he'd been working on some kind of energy field in the suit that would protect the Grineer from becoming Infested. It's not finished, but I think I can handle it.

 

I cut a deal with the Grineer woman. 20 suits for 15 million galactic credits, to be finished and field tested within 12 standard galactic days. It'll be hard, but the money's worth it. Apprenticeship fees for Verle and James alone are 4 million credits apiece yearly, not to mention the mortgage on the house. 

 

My interim medtech consultant told me that my technocytes are acting up. He said that it was due to increased technocyte radiation. I would much rather have seen Dr. Bose than this new guy, but it can't be helped. The man just had to go attend to some kind of mass radiation poisoning incident in the orbital docks. The quack gave me some pills of anti-technocyte bots, some kind of newfangled invention, and advised me to get some sleep. Pills I'll take, the sleep, not so much.

 

I just don't understand how I exposed myself to technocyte radiation. These things were supposed to have been taken out of development centuries ago, with that whole fiasco over the Jupiter Incident. No one tries to modify or power them up now. It's just too dangerous.

 

S#&$'s going to hell everywhere. The news just reported that two Corpus trading ships were attacked in Grineer space, and smashed into an orbital defense satellite. Those secretive screenheads won't tell anyone exactly what happened, but I'm betting that it's frying their relationship with the Grineer. I just hope that my kids weren't on either of those ships.

 

On the upside, no sign of Mr. weathercoat today. Maybe he's given up. Maybe he's intimidated by the fact the Grineer sent an officer to talk to me. Or maybe he's lying low, just waiting for the chance to put a bullet or plasma bolt through my head. Either way, I'm ready as I'll ever be.

 

I've got a lot of work to do tomorrow, but I'm too tired to sleep.

Edited July 2, 2013 by Destro6677

[Destro6677]

Dear diary,

 

Things are happening really fast. I'm not sure how much time I have left to complete this entry.

 

I've been kidnapped.

 

Should've known that alcohol was a bad idea.

 

I didn't even hear him come in. The window was wide open, he must've opened it. Breached my home safeguards somehow. Mr. weathercoat. Just standing there in the dark in front of me. The rebreather mask was gone, replaced by a ridiculous hammerhead helmet. But it was him. That same casual arrogance I saw at the maglev station and from across the street. He practically oozes it.

 

I got off two shots before he pulled the gun out of my hand with some kind of electromagnetic field. Didn't even lift a finger. But the force of that pull almost broke all of mine. And when he had it in his hand, he crumpled it in one fist like a ball of grease paper. 

 

I had the feeling that he was laughing when I was shouting at him to just kill me. Just standing there, laughing at this poor little man on the bed, who missed at a distance of six feet. Doesn't matter that he dodged both bullets so fast he had time to stand aside.

 

I'd like to strangle the person who said pain is good, cuz it means you're alive. A pounding headache from alcohol and being knocked out by some sleeping gas does wonders to remind you you're alive.

 

Doesn't matter what I say now. I'm locked in a cell with walls of solid rock. No windows, no natural light. The floor's cold to the touch. The mattress I woke up on barely qualifies as a floor mat back home. It's not all bad though. There's a shower and toilet in one corner, and a monitor with keyboard in the other. Someone pushed food and a change of clothes through a flap at the bottom of the door earlier. At least the food reheats itself. A can of beer, and it'd be just like my bachelor pad days. 

 

I've tried the monitor. Whoever runs this place certainly doesn't mind their prisoners being up to date with the latest news. There are virtual copies of almost every piece of news and trivia out there. I've tried to hack it, but the security protocols are tighter than the seals on the door.

 

I consider myself lucky they haven't wiped my implant buffers yet. I want to keep as much information about these people as I can.

Edited July 2, 2013 by Destro6677

[GeneralCow]

You are doing a great work! Keep it going!

[Destro6677]

Dear diary,

Whoever they are, they don't take orders from any authority I know. They're completely silent, even their footsteps are hard to pick out. And their servants both fear and respect them. And that woman, The Lotus, who the hell is she?

Mr. weathercoat came into my cell as I was finishing the reheated meat soup they'd given me. I think I'll start calling him Hammerhead from now on. He had another guy with him. A huge bloke in body armor, bulging muscles all over. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to call him a tank. I'll just call him Tiny.

Hammerhead tied my hands behind my back and blindfolded me with some cloth, and Tiny pushed me out the door with his big paws.

I stumbled around for a bit before they finally brought me into another room and undid the blindfold. There was a low table with cushions there. A man and a woman wearing some kind of long hooded coats were there, but they said nothing to me. Hammerhead pointed at the cushions and gave me a light push, so I sat down, and a hologram projector turned on opposite me. It beamed up a blue, seated woman, with the biggest, most absurd headgear I have ever seen. The man and woman approached and poured some hot drink into a small cup for me. Then, they bowed at the hologram and backed away.

The hologram addressed me by name.

'Mr. Larspeth, you obviously have no idea why you are here or what we want from you. Rest assured, it is in both our interests to come up with an amicable solution, one that reduces loss of life for all parties involved. I am The Lotus. Now that we know each other, shall we talk like civilized beings?'

I responded with the longest, dirtiest, most graphic series of expletives I had ever uttered since my college days.

Tiny backhanded me so hard, I flew up against the wall. I think I cracked a few ribs there. And if that wasn't enough, he punched a hole into the rock next to my face.

The hologram $#*(@ replied in her smug hologram $#*(@ voice.

'I'd be careful if I were you. He doesn't like it when I'm addressed in those terms'

Biting back the pain, I told Tiny to &!$$ off. He made some angry animal rumble and stomped out the door.

I took a long hard look at The Lotus. A crooked smile curved the corner of her mouth up. I know that look. That's the look they give you when they think they have you on a leash, and can jerk you around like a pet dog. Not for me though.

A personal rule I have in dealing with people who kidnap you: don't show them fear. Scream if they torture you, yes, but people in my line of work rarely get tortured. We'd be unable to do our jobs if we were.

So I asked The Lotus exactly what she wanted, and reminded her not to disgrace me with Tiny's presence.

She proceeded to tell me that she knows about my contract with the Grineer for twenty suits. She wants me to sabotage the suits by installing remote deactivators for the anti-Infestation energy fields. And here comes the clincher.

If I help her, she'll find a way to get Timmy back for me. If I refuse, she'll have me digitized.

Edited July 3, 2013 by Destro6677

[Dr-Jelly]

Nice, a lot of progession is going on. Keep up the good work.

[Tesseract_The_Pariah]

Beautiful

[Guest]

for Timmy!

[Destro6677]

Dear diary,

 

Before today, I wouldn't have believed it possible to have a one-sided conversation with another human who's cutting you up on an operating table. Now I know that not only is it possible, it's either very reassuring, or very terrifying, depending on the subject matter.

 

I agreed to The Lotus's proposal right after I heard Timmy's name. But I also know enough not to say it out loud, or they really would have me on a leash. So I let Hammerhead blindfold me and lead me back to my cell again. A few hours later, I was again seated in front of The Lotus.

 

I agreed to plant the remote deactivators in the Grineer suits. But I also demanded ten million galactic credits be transferred into my account at The Universal Bank.

 

Once the Grineer find out what I've done, they're going to come after me. I intend to be long gone with Molly by then.

 

Hammerhead blindfolded me again and took me to a sterile room. I was strapped to the operating table so tight I could barely move my fingers.

 

A normal human was there. He was a surgeon. Quite a friendly one in fact. As he was cutting my throat open, he cheerfully talked about how The Lotus pays better than most jobs he's held in the whole Sol system. When he was sliding some capsule into the flesh above my adam's apple, he told me about his own kids, studying around Uranus. And when he was finally done, and laser-cauterizing the small tear in my neck, he warned me not to tamper with the capsule or it might release it's neurotoxic content into my bloodstream and I'd be dead in five seconds.

 

He was a decent man. Quite the professional.

 

Hammerhead then hauled me back for a final conversation with The Lotus. I was told that the capsule in my neck was a kind of insurance policy, in case I decided to warn the Grineer about what was happening or tried to go against her plans.

 

I asked her if she knew what had happened to Phil, and she replied that he'd already been digitized for talking to the Grineer too much.

 

Can't say I blame her on this one. Phil was always a bit flighty. 

 

She had the man and woman bring me a data chip with the coded galactic frequency for the remote deactivators.

 

Finally, she told me that the surgeon would be on hand to remove the toxic capsule from my throat, and to turn over Timmy once this whole business was over.

 

Another spurt of sleeping gas from Hammerhead's palm, and I woke up in my own room. I'd been gone for a standard galactic day.

 

I'm not sure when I'll be able to make another entry. Time's going to be in very short supply.

Edited July 3, 2013 by Destro6677

[Destro6677]

Dear diary,

 

Today was the final day of field testing for the suits. The energy fields work perfectly.

 

I can't be sure about the remote deactivators though. I want to kill these deformed bastards as much as The Lotus does. But without the transmitter, there's no way I can tell for sure if it'll work.

 

I must say I admire those Grineer grunts who performed the field tests. They must be either really brave, or really stupid, exposing themselves to live Infested spores.

 

Hell, why are they keeping live Infested spores in the Old Quarter?

 

The Grineer officer who approached me about the contract came over to me during the field tests, and warned me that one of her best junior officers was leading the fire team into the asteroid. If anything happened, I'd be held personally responsible. 

 

I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from wishing aloud that they'd all burn in hell.

 

I'm under house arrest until this is over. One big Grineer in an orange suit with a shotgun and three of his blue-armored lackeys escorted me home and commandeered the entire ground floor for their use.

 

They emptied out my entire fridge in an hour and the big one had to send the smartest of the three stooges to get more food.

 

I hope my contact comes through with the ship I've asked him to find. Molly hasn't replied any of my messages either. I just hope she knows where the pickup point is. 

[Destro6677]

Dear diary,

 

It's been a long and chaotic day. I just have to make this last entry before I can sleep.

 

I'm in the cockpit of a refurbished interplanetary-capable trading ship. Timmy and Molly are asleep in the back rooms. James and Verle know not to contact us on unsecured channels, and we'll meet them in person soon when their ships dock at Neptune. I'm glad that everything worked out perfectly considering the circumstances.

 

The Grineer had a guard on me the whole time they were there. I almost couldn't sleep because one was always looking at me. When they were changing the guard, I took my chance and grabbed the stun grenade out of the bedside table.

 

I know it wouldn't have done much against Grineer, but I figured I'd get a running start before they shot me in the back.

 

There was a bellow from the ground floor, and the retard guarding me gestured with one hand for me to come. I slipped the grenade into my pocket and went down ahead of him.

 

The big orange one had his helmet off and had hooked it up to my surround sound system. The other two were tearing open bags of junk food and opening big bottles of fruity drinks. It was like they were getting ready for a party. The big one gestured for me to take a seat, and the snarl on his face was what passed for a smile among the Grineer.

 

Having no choice, I sat. There was no way I could have escaped at that point, not with the barrel of an smg between my shoulders.

 

I sat there with the Grineer for almost three hours, and they got progressively more excited as live reports on the status of the mission blared out of my speakers in horrible feedback. They were jumping, hooting, thumping their chestplates. My living room got progressively more trashed with the sauce from the dips they were eating the junk with. Not to mention my furniture would never be the same again.

 

Suddenly, there was a frantic change of pace in the live feed. The voices coming from my speakers seemed distressed. 

 

The leader of the four stood up and advanced on me, pointing an accusing finger at me and jabbering in his guttural language. I had time to notice he was priming his shotgun.

 

Then, the offal really hit the circulators.

 

Hammerhead materialized in front of me, firing shots from his huge pistol at the Grineer. I dove for cover behind the sofa as the Grineer fired back, and the big one charged towards Hammerhead, intent on clobbering him with the shotgun.

 

Just before the big Grineer made contact with Hammerhead, I heard the sound of breaking glass and tearing metal. I looked up in time to see another Hammerhead smash his way into my living room from the scenic window behind the Grineer. He had a long dual bladed staff in his hands and cut apart the three goons easily.

 

It was then I noticed the Hammerhead with the pistol moved in a clunky, almost mechanical way, while the one swinging the staff had the same noxious arrogance I had seen many times.

 

The big Grineer was too busy with the pistol-wielding Hammerhead to hear the dying gurgles of his men. He headbutted the Hammerhead in front of him, and the Hammerhead simply evaporated. He turned just in time to receive a fatal stab from a blade on the staff.

 

The expression of surprise on his face as he died was priceless.

 

Hammerhead yanked the staff out of the big Grineer's guts, wiped both blades on the sofa, and casually sheathed it across his back.

 

At that point in time, all I could think of was how hard the mess of scattered junk food, spilled drinks, shredded entrails and mangled body parts in my  living room would be to clean up.

 

Hammerhead beckoned me closer and held up a miniature hologram projector. After a few seconds, The Lotus's head beamed out of it.

 

'Congratulations Mr. Larspeth. You've just helped to bring down an empire. I hope we can have further business dealings in future. I certainly could use a man of your talents.'

 

'Payback's a $#*(@', I replied, and spat on the corpse of the big Grineer. 'Where's my son?'

 

'He'll be delivered to you at a secure location of your choosing.'

 

That was all I needed to hear. I gave her the coordinates of the secret landing pad near the office and shot off in my car, leaving Hammerhead to take care of the mess. 

 

When I got to the landing pad, Jeddard, my contact in the spacer's guild, was having a tense standoff with Tiny. It took myself, the surgeon and Molly to stop them from blowing holes in each other. 

 

Timmy was in the cargo hold of the surgeon's shuttle, in a cryopod.

 

I nearly cried when I saw him. His little face was as perfect as the day they took him from me. 

 

The surgeon gently extracted the capsule from my throat in under thirty chronocyles and gave me detailed instructions on how to safely wake Timmy from cryostasis.

 

I shook his hand and told him he deserved better employers than The Lotus.

 

I only woke Timmy from cryostasis after we were halfway to Mars. I must remember that I owe Jeddard a huge favor now, and he might call on it soon.

 

Timmy's a bit shaken up. He has trouble remembering what happened to him before that day, almost a galactic month ago.

 

I'm hoping it's not brain damage.

 

I'm also hoping that Frank will be glad to see me when we arrive at Pluto. He's one of the few people I can trust, and the fact he's a consultant for the Outer Terminus Project can't hurt.

 

Who knows, maybe he'll help me get in on the project. If I can build a suit that keeps the Grineer from becoming Infested, I can certainly handle mass accelerators and amplifier pylons.

Edited July 3, 2013 by Destro6677

[Destro6677]

Dear diary,

 

This might be the last entry for a while. The family's busy settling in. And I'm trying to cope with the fact that Timmy-

 

Isn't Timmy.

 

I started to notice things a few days after I woke him up. Little things. The way he wouldn't turn his shining face to me often. The way he stared vacantly out the window, when before, he'd been so excited about becoming a spacer. How he stopped the little doodles that he used to do so often, making plans for rocket ships, or sketching stick figures having arguments.

 

At first, I thought I was mistaken. That I was so used to having the usual energetic, funny Timmy, who would squeal when I bounced him on my lap.

 

But then I realized I wasn't wrong.

 

I held his hand the other night while we were saying grace at dinner. 

 

And I touched the little finger of his left hand.

 

That same hand which curled around my finger as a baby, that same hand that would clutch at my hand tightly at night and beg me to make the monsters go away.

 

His little finger was perfect, not even a scratch.

 

Timmy broke his little finger in a playground accident when he was five. I was there, I took him to the doctor and I know his finger was slightly out of shape since then.

 

If I didn't know better I would say that my 'son' might be a first generation Grineer clone. I do know better, and I know he is a clone.

 

If The Lotus thinks she can get away with this, she's wrong. Dead wrong.

 

The next time I catch her or her costumed freaks in the open, I'll be sending them home. In space caskets.

 

 

 

 

My name is Anherst M. Larspeth. And I want my son back.

Edited July 3, 2013 by Destro6677

[Destro6677]

The end.

[Dr-Jelly]

Great story. Loved the ending.

[Valentine_Grim]

My name is Nilin, and I'm here to take my memory back!

Well, it was unusual approach to Lotus and "Hammerhead". He'd better watch his sharky butt next time he spouts sleep gas in peoples' faces.

[Nantlais]

Again, nice work destro. Sorry in advance for waking this from the dead :)