Another Day, Another Crime

Honor Guard

The soft, synthetic voice of the switchboard computer, located four hundred seventy-five stories about the ground in Row F, Station 46B, took off at the speed of light, through 23.7 million miles of high resolution communications cable and out into space, where it slammed into the waiting parabolic grasp of a SpaceTech satellite, which in turn beamed the voice to the opposite side of the planet, where it then arrived at Jax Harker’s hand held computer, answering his inquiry by saying, "The time is, four thirty two PM, standard time."

"Thanks," he mumbled insincerely, before plunging into the swarming crowd of travelers. The hover rail stations were always busy on the eve of Holiday. Were it not for his inordinately muscular build, Harker would have otherwise blended in perfectly with his casual attire and overstuffed handbag. Most people crammed too many things into their hand bags, such as makeup, video games, car theft tools, and the like. In his bag, Jax Harker carried a combat knife, a semi-automat laser pistol, and some explosive sticky tape. The screeners would never know it though. Their machines possessed an inability to scan through a carry-on laced with a platinum/lead alloy.

A hundred thousand soft clicking sounds jumbled through the air at Avierna Station. It was the way people’s shoes sounded on the reflective marble surfaces. Sunlight streamed down gloriously through hand crafted crystal skylights, splashing against the marble floors and warming the halls with a rich glow. Square columns over a thousand years old leaned dutifully against the angled walls, providing just the right amount of support for the marvelous structure. Haker moved purposefully through the station, taking no notice of the truly magnificent quality of the premises.

He turned left at the central junction and approached the service desk.

"My name is Jenkins. I’m here on a personal visit," he lied smoothly to the attendant, a pretty young lady only barely paying attention to him.

"Yes, sir, here is your pass key to the residential compartments. All visitors are required to have proper identification and listed members of…" He could hear her speaking monotonously in the increasing distance, unaware that he had departed with the passkey and was headed for the elevator station.

The noise sucked itself into nothingness as the elevator door closed, replaced by the silent rumble of the elevator. The walls and floor of the compartment were carpeted with a smooth, corporate decorative cover, none of which Harker took notice of as he continued to near his destination. His blue eyes were stationed straight ahead, dull except for the knowledge of his mission. No emotion played across his face, and no emotion lay hidden in his mind. He was neither at peace nor in conflict. He was simply performing his function. He opened his small bag, strapped the knife to his forearm and tucked the pistol and explosive tape in his jacket. The bag fell to the floor, landing quietly, perhaps glad to be relieved its contents. The lift came to a stop, followed by the hiss of the doors retracting. Jax Harker stepped into the hallway.

The corridor was impeccably clean. Curvaceous lights snaked along the walls, giving off a warm, light blue glow, which augmented the likewise colored environment. An occasional botanical specimen or artwork dotted the path through the hallway. Harker trained his eyes left first, then right, then turned right and walked softly down the hall, his feet making the most imperceptible shuffling sound on the soft carpet.

A left turn and a short walk brought him to an unassuming white door, obviously powered down for security.