It was all received very well and the captain himself gave Justice a medal. It sounded crazy but, when he saw the Chrono Car for himself, Renaud was ready to believe anything. “Three cheers for the conquering hero! He came from the caves to set us free!”
A cheer rang out and Justice recognized that he was on a stage. It was just him and Renaud, oh, and a podium that he didn’t remember being there a moment ago. Also they weren’t in the ship, they were outdoors in what looked like a grassy field on planet Earth. “Oh … okay, that’s … yeah. Well, when I killed that old man and took his car I knew I was doing the right … thing. No, wait. Let me see my notes…”
“Dammit, Mister President, you are really blowing it.” said Renaud who was wearing a black suit that would be very fashionable back in the year 1863, the last time Justice saw civilization as he knew it. He pulled back the lapels of his jacket just enough to grab suspenders. “If I were you I’d be starting this whole Gettysburg Address all over again. And don’t forget to tell the people ‘they’re comin’ from the outside!’”
“Say what now?” and Justice took new stock of his surroundings. He wasn’t in a field but a battlefield; Gettysburg’s battlefield. With a stage on it! Renaud was actually acting subordinate to him, which was very odd, and there was something on Justice’s head; A stovepipe hat! He took it off and had a look at it. “Ain’t that some shit? I’m Lincoln!”
A fresh cheer went up and Justice checked out the cheering crowd. All black. Slowly he looked over at Renaud who was yelling again. “Why are you so obsessed with race, boy!? Look at ya; oh, ‘I’m an abolitionist’ this and ‘my daddy’s an accountant’ that!”
“Not sure how those two things relate, Captain.”
“Who’s this Captain you’re talkin’ about? I’m Frederick Douglass!” Then he started clucking like a chicken and doing a chicken dance. The crowd, now clearly slaves freed by Abraham Lincoln, who, somehow, was also Justice Haymaker, cheered as Renaud pulled an earthworm out of the dirt just off-stage.
“Dammit boy you know this ain’t how you get to heaven!” boomed an appalachian voice similar to Justice’s own. Turning he saw Saint Peter who still looked like his very own grandfather.
“Papaw Pete!?” exclaimed Justice.
“Ayuh. Sorry, boy, but you get the trap door again.” The giant angel grandpa stepped to the podium, which was, of course, where the Book of Sins now resided. Giving the book a poke “Saint Peter” dropped a trap door open through which the returning Captain Frederick Douglass Renaud fell and up through which a gout of hellfire then shot.
The crowd cheered again and Justice mused aloud. “Wait. This a dream, ain’t it? Ain’t that some shit?” Justice asked nobody before feeling a violent jolt.
—
Immediately he was sitting bolt upright, yelping in pain. Justice looked around and found that he was in a sterile room, on one of those hovering bed drones, currently docked to a base in the floor. He only knew they moved because he saw other crewmembers floating through the halls on them and, of course, they were present when they were researching his unique condition. “Oh thank God nobody else saw that. I know that ain’t right!”
Head Medical Officer (HMO) Jenny Diatribe was present and chuckling. “Why’s that, Mister President?” She was a handsome lady, gray, but with a youthful face that was tight and didn’t move much.
“Pardon?” asked Justice, a chill going up his spine. He noticed that McKinley was present. When he looked at her she averted her eyes, mouth straining at the corners. “McKinley … what’s she on about?”
McKinley seemed to swell as the head of her division shook her head but it was too much. “Okay, so, sometimes we use subconscious imagers after inducing a coma to make sure the patients’ dreamers are coherent. If not they can wake in an agitated state! So we wait … you know?”
“You spied on my dreams!?”
“Justice, if you woke up in an agitated state you might turn violent. We … we don’t have straps that could hold you! Y’know!?” McKinley showed her palms then grabbed her face, blushing.
“‘Justice’? Not Commander?” asked Diatribe.
“Uh … it’s a developing situation, ma’am. Liutenant Commander Haymaker saved my life in the field.”
“And this … changed things? You know, Fraternization between enlisted and officers is typically not allowed, Spaceman McKinley. But that’s neither here nor there for now. Haymaker, there is a fresh uniform in the compartment below your bed. Please change into it.”
“What happened to the old one?” Justice asked earnestly.
“Other than blood, extensive tearing, numerous cuts and all-around filth? It was disintegrating into dust. Truly bizarre.”
“Ayuh, that was the … Scattergun? Shit, I hope that got snatched up.”
“The site’s still being cleared, Justice. I collected the Multiphasic Scatterer myself when we left. It’s currently being examined by Derglabin and others on the science team. Everyone’s been debriefed but you.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Yeah, okay. Uh … how long was I out?”
Diatribe chimed in. “Approximately one hour. You are due more rest but your wounds, inside and out, are sealed. You received an infusion of regenerative fluids intravenously to replace five kilograms of mass missing from your upper body. Given that there’s no real wound to that loss I assume the the ‘scatterer’ was responsible.”
McKinley gave a look of bemusement. “First time I’ve had to use a powered tool to make a guidehole for a needle.”
“Say what now?”
“Commander Haymaker your skin is tougher than leather. More equipment was needed than is normally necessary to punch through your skin. Regardless, the Captain wanted to see you the moment you were conscious so, again, please get dressed.”
“Yeah, sure, I–” Justice pulled back the covers, moving to put his feet on the floor, then jerked them back to cover up. “Uh … shit, I’m nekked…”
Diatribe shook her head while McKinley covered her mouth and looked away. For the first time since probably before joining the Union Army Justice Haymaker was seen to blush.
—
Walking the hall Justice rubbed where he could feel the beating he’d taken before. He hadn’t needed medical attention since coming to Spacefleet and assumed, since the healing technology made the patient look pristine, that his injuries would be gone. They were not. They shined that healing light on him but, apparently, while the technology would protect the wound better than any bandage by using the body’s own cellular matrix it was no more healed than a bandaged wound. It was still better; no chance of infection and no need to change the wound’s dressing. Still, not much fun for the patient.
It felt like yesterday that Justice was in the Captain’s office getting yelled at, which was funny since it was earlier today, but that’s what happens when you have a really short induced coma for lunch. Pressing the button to notify those inside that he was there Justice heard a terse “Enter” and did so.
“Captain” said Justice, standing upright, hands clasped behind his back.
“At ease, Justice. Here, have a seat. I’ve already heard about the away mission but I can’t wait to hear your telling of it.” Renaud gestured towards a futuristic office chair, sturdy and well-padded.
“Why, thank you sir! Thank you kindly.” Justice took the seat and it was like sitting in a reinforced cloud. Couldn’t be more secure.
“Oh absolutely. Now, please, start at the beginning and don’t leave out a single detail, pardner.” The Captain had a funny tone but that was okay, maybe he was just in a good mood. Or drunk. Possibly both?
—
“And that’s when the Doc opened fire, Captain. I wanted to arrest the man, let him stand trial but when I felt, uh, some kill-o-grams scatter out of me it hurt so bad that I shot the man on instinct. From there McKinley and me figured out how to teleport the Chrono Car into the shuttle bay and that was that. She got me to sickbay and now I’m here.” Justice had gone on for some ten minutes giving every detail as well as some exaggeration and a healthy dose of nonsense (mostly asides and how things related to other things back in the 1860’s) and was finally done. Renaud nodded energetically.
“Wow. I must say that is an impressive account.” Renaud slowly stood up from his chair, pushing it in and walking over to toy with a globe of the planet Jupiter complete with all its one hundred and three moons (odd how they kept discovering more in the twenty-second century). “Mysterious cyborg who shares your DNA. Pulled his corpse out, what little is left. Definitely places you there at the incident.”
“Yessir, he was very … incidental. Vicious even. Sir.”
“And Michaels, poor Michaels. I guess you were crackin’ jokes about him dying before the mission began?” Renaud looked back over his shoulder at Justice.
“Little bit of ribbin’ for the kid, yeah. I reassured him though; let him tag along with me instead of goin’ with Praggin like I was gonna, sir.” Justice’s brow knit; some funny questions coming from the captain today.
“And as for this Doctor Phineas Black and Matty Walker … nobody else saw these two, correct?” Renaud had turned back to Justice and was staring a hole in him. He had the unsettling feeling that he was in trouble again.
“Ayup, that’s right sir. Both tried using guns but lost the gunfight, I’m afraid. The Doc, in particular, seemed to be suicidal after I informed him of what I believe to be the damage he’s caused to multiple Earths.”
Renaud lunged in, throwing his palms down on his desk and shouting. “And you did this knowing that the energy from a Destabilizer would destroy all the DNA of these individuals, correct? So how would we ever confirm who they were or if they even ever existed!?”
“What? How you mean? I don’t know much about DNA but they done told me at Academy we’re sheddin’ it all the time. Just look in the Chrono Car!” Justice started to rise from his chair. Renaud hit a button on his desk.
The door slid open behind Justice and he was aware of two large figures coming into the room. “Admit it; you killed Michaels when he discovered the people living in the cave. You killed them and then had to cover your tracks!” Renaud was acting a little wild.
“That ain’t it at all! I thought these badges we wore had cameras in ‘em! Just watch the video!”
“Your badge was destroyed in your ‘fight’, Justice, though I’m sure you already knew that. Michaels’s Insignia has you arguing with yourself and then, unfortunately, the brutality of his death. All committed by one Justice Haymaker!” Renaud stabbed an accusing finger in Justice’s direction.
“Are you nuts!? If you saw Michaels’ video that’d exonerate me! You would have saw me and the other Justice at the same time! Hell, he was talkin’ about it!” The two large figures came up beside Justice, placing a hand on each shoulder, one from each man.
“What I saw was a danger to my crew, Justice, and a killer in waiting. If you admit that your future self was who murdered Michaels Spacefleet Military Law states that you’ve effectively confessed.” Renaud grit his teeth. “To hell with what Admiral Richie wants, you broke my second in command and you killed one of my crew. Charges will be pressed and you will be going to the brig!”
“Like hell! I knew you had it in for me, dammit!” Shoving the man on his left Justice sent him twisting through the air, smashing a decorative jug. Turning the other way Justice cocked his fist back only to go limp as the other man grabbed him by both shoulders. “N-naw … but… Why?”
“What can I say, Justice? I’m a thinking man. I needed someone whose neck you wouldn’t break. It helps that he understands, unlike you, that he is not in charge…”
It was Ensign Glen Gentle, the anthropomorphized bear and, effectively, Justice’s son for about ten years now. “Thorry. I … you always thaid we had to obey the ruleth, right? Chain of command? We gotta go … dad… We gotta go…”