Nearcotic

As Reinhardt Galvoris walked through the open fields of Distance City, he made sure to stay at least twenty feet away from every other human.

While walking, he thought about his wife Amy. Despite being married for almost thirty years, he had never once been within twenty feet of her. Sure, they had touch and sex simulator chips implanted in their heads and VR sex rigs. And after a while he thought that he had gotten used to not touching her. But now that she was about to die he yearned to touch her more than anything else in the world.

He only hoped that he could convince Ian Hovengale to give him the prototype near serum, assuming that it wasn't a rumor. Considering their family history, though, he doubted it. But Reinhardt hoped that he could play to Hovengale's greed.

Reinhardt glanced up at Faraway's two moons ascending in the sky and frowned. It would be night soon and he had to teach his history class at Valisar University by fortieth hour. Sometimes it seemed like even fifty-five hours weren't enough for a single day.

He frowned and hurried down the street, past the large piece of the generation ship that had been erected in the center of Distance City. Had their ancestors known about the Bakanate microorganisms that existed here, they might have thought twice about landing on this world.

Reinhardt walked past the large, open amphitheaters. Unlike Earth cities, buildings on Faraway were separated by massive distances and left wide open so that people wouldn't have to worry about getting too close to each other.

Twenty minutes later, he arrived at the near bar. It was called So Close. The bodyguards at the entrances held out their long stunsticks. Inside faint drum music pounded.

"Fifty rubles," one of the guards said.

Reinhardt swiped his credit necklace against the nearby scanner. Once payment was confirmed, the guard lowered his stick. Reinhardt walked inside the near bar and sighed. As soon as he entered, he could feel the Bakanate tingling under his skin.

The near bar was one of the few places in Distance City where it was legal to be close to someone. Several people stepped within fifteen and even seven or eight feet of each other. The closer they got to each other, the more the Bakanate grew agitated. They secreted a narcotic chemical called Bakan that had an intoxicating effect on humans. From personal experience, Reinhardt knew it was better than the best orgasm or shot of heroin ever.

People danced close to each other, but not too close. If any person got within a foot or two of another person, the Bakan would overload their systems and kill both people. Although the Bakanate chemicals provided extended life, immunity to most diseases, increased cogitation and memory, they also made it impossible for any person to go near or touch another person. Nor could humans leave the planet without the Bakanate dying and killing them as well.

Reinhardt slipped his way through the crowd, avoiding all offers from men and women to get a near dance. At the far end of the amphitheater he spotted Hovengale neardancing with two beautiful young women. His face was a mask of bliss and he swayed back and forth like a rave dancer on ecstasy.

Before he could get within a hundred feet, two guards stretched out their synthflesh longarms and stopped him. One of them was a fat white man with a bullet scar on the right side of his face and the other was a thin, young Latino.

Reinhardt clicked on the nearspeaker collar around his neck and directed the laser microphone towards him so he wouldn't have to shout.

"I want to speak with Mr. Hovengale!" Reinhardt said.

"You can't," the scarred guard said via nearspeaker. "Mr. Hovengale is busy."

"But I have to talk about—"

"Turn around and go back."

The Latino thrust out his stunstick and Reinhardt staggered back.

Hovengale stopped dancing and turned to him. He blinked, frowned and shook his head, as if trying to shake off his nearcotic high. A second later, he clicked on his nearspeaker.

"Galvoris, what the fuck are you doing here?" Hovengale said.

"I have to talk with you," Reinhardt said.

"About what?"

"The near serum."

Hovengale frowned, turned to the women and said, "Go away."

One of the girls giggled and said, "But we're having—"

"I said get the fuck out of here!"

Looking hurt, they parted from him. Immediately the drugged effect disappeared from Hovengale's face and he pinched the bridge of his nose, suffering post-near high. A moment later, he sat and said, "Where'd you hear that rumor?"

"One of my students overheard you talking to some friends of yours about it."

Hovengale laughed and said, "That's a bunch of bullshit. I never developed any near serum."

"They seemed to think otherwise."

"And you believe them?"

"I do."

Hovengale shook his head. "And here I was thinking you were a smart man."

"How much do you want for it?" Reinhardt said. "Name your price."

"Nothing."

Reinhardt chuckled. "You mean you'll give it to me for free?"

"No, I mean that even if such a serum existed—and I'm not saying it does—I wouldn't fucking give it to you if you gave me every cent you had. Now get the fuck out of here and don't—"

Undeterred, Reinhardt stayed where he was and said, "Five million. Right now. Just give me one dose."

"I said no."

"Then what do you want out of me?"

"I want you to get out of here."

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened between my father and your mother, but it was almost thirty years ago and I just want—"

"I don't want your apologies! I want you out! Now!"

"But you must want money—"

Hovengale glared at his guards. "Get him out of here!"

Before Reinhardt could protest any further, Hovengale's guards zapped him with their stunsticks. He gasped and dropped to the floor. They grabbed his arms with their longarms, dragged him out of the club and dropped him on the ground.

He lay there for several seconds, struggling to regain his breath. Once he did, he staggered up. He considered going back in there and arguing some more with Hovengale, but he figured that it would be pointless.

He had to find another way to get that serum.

Over the following week, Reinhardt checked up on Hovengale's employees at his lab, looking for somebody whom he could bribe. At first he didn't see anybody who fit the bill. Most of his employees were students who had good backgrounds and appeared to be loyal to Hovengale.

But after a week he discovered one of the lab assistants named Christopher Perdovick. Reinhardt did a background check on him and found that he had several outstanding student loans and liked to gamble a lot.

Reinhardt confronted him outside the university one afternoon. He was a tall, gangly young man with long, scraggly black hair, glasses and a pinched face. He walked across the snow-covered parking lot to his scooter and got on it.

To appear non-threatening, Reinhardt remained fifty feet away from him. He clicked on his nearspeaker collar and gestured for Perdovick to do the same.

"Hello," Reinhardt said.

Perdovick barely acknowledged him as he tried to start his scooter.

"I said hello."

"What do you want, pal?" Perdovick said. "I'm kind of busy."

"My name is Reinhardt Galvoris."

"So?"

"Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"

"I'm not a faggot, man. So get lost."

"I'm not coming onto you. I just want to offer you a business proposition."

"Like what?"

"You work for Dr. Hovengale?"

"Yeah, so?" He shoved a lock of hair out of his face.

Reinhardt looked around. "I want the near serum. And I'm willing to pay anything to get it."

Perdovick snorted. "I don't know what you're talking about, man."

"Don't bullshit me."

"Why don't you get lost?"

"I know about your money problems."

Perdovick glared at him. "How the fuck do you know—"

"It doesn't matter how I know. Let's just say I'll pay you three million if you get me a sample."

"Get the fuck out of here!"

"You need the money, I need the serum."

Perdovick looked down at the speedometer. "There is no serum."

"What do you think, I'm fucking stupid?" Reinhardt said. "You think I don't know when someone's lying to me?"

"So what if he has it? I'm not risking my job here for three million."

"How about ten then?

Perdovick looked at him. "Get lost."

"Fifteen."

Perdovick leaned against his bike. "You're crazy."

"All you have to do is get a sample. Is that so hard?"

"Why do you want it anyway?"

Reinhardt ran a hand through his blonde hair. "My wife is dying from Vellmar's Disease and the Bakanate can't save her." He sighed. "And I—look, I just want to be able to get close to her one time before she goes."

Perdovick looked right into his eyes. Reinhardt stared back at him.

"It means that much to you?" Perdovick said.

"It means everything to me."

Perdovick looked around nervously. "You have to understand something. I'm not saying we have the serum. But even if we did it's only in the experimental stage and it can only inhibit nearcosis for a few minutes."

"Even with that, why doesn't Hovengale sell it and make a shitload of money?"

"He's worried about possible unforeseen side effects of the drug. The last thing he wants is to give birth defects to unborn children or kill people accidentally and end up with a bunch of lawsuits. So he's holding back until he can do further testing and ensure the drug is safe." Perdovick shifted where he stood. "Are you sure you want this? Even if you don't suffer any side effects, it'll only give you fifteen minutes."

"If I can have a few minutes to be close to her, I'll take it," Reinhardt said.

Perdovick frowned. "Why don't you go to Hovengale directly and ask him?"

"I did, but he said no."

"Why? He seems pretty nice."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I'd like to know."

"Are you going to do it or not?"

"Tell me."

"It's personal." Reinhardt took a step back.

"Then I guess you don't want it that bad," Perdovick said.

"All right!" Reinhardt put his hand up.

With a smug expression, Perdovick sat on the scooter and folded his arms. "I'm waiting."

"Several years back my father had an affair with Hovengale's mother and they grew very close. But as time went on, she wanted him to divorce my mother and marry her. At first he refused. So to force the issue, she took some of his seed from a public sperm pot and impregnated herself. He finally decided to give in and marry her, but she had second thoughts and decided to abort the baby. He went into a rage when she did it and he beat her with longgloves. She tried to get away from him, but my father...he..." Reinhardt swallowed hard. "He figured if he couldn't have her, then no one else could.

"So one night he set a trap for her."

"A trap?"

"Yeah. He caught Leslie Hovengale in a pit that he made, then he climbed down in with her and let the Bakanate overload them both. My father killed her and himself because he couldn't stand living without her.

"Of course this is ancient history. But your boss doesn't see it that way. And the fact that our family tried to sweep it under the rug doesn't endear him to us. Ever since then he's hated us Galvorises, though frankly I can't blame him. If I were in his place, I'd probably hate my family too."

After silence passed for a moment, Reinhardt said, "So will you do it?"

"I'll do it for fifteen million. All up front."

Reinhardt swallowed hard. For a brief second he considered haggling, but in Amy's case he had neither the time nor the luxury to do so.

"I'll give you a million in bearer bonds now, the rest when I get the serum," Reinhardt said.

"Look, I'm putting everything on the line and I want—" Perdovick said.

"If you don't want to do it, I could always find someone else."

"Not someone with direct access and the keys."

"Forget it." Reinhardt turned and started to walk away. But he didn't get more than a few feet before Perdovick said, "Wait!"

Reinhardt turned back and said, "Yes?"

"All right. Meet me down by the First Colonists monument at Lelldin Park tomorrow at thirtieth-eight hour. I'll have it by then."

"And I want a sample before I give you the money."

"Don't worry. You'll get it."

Perdovick started up his scooter and sped away.

The following night, Reinhardt appeared in front of the plaque and golden statue of the starship Hopeful Endeavor, erected in memory of the first colonists to arrive on Faraway. As Reinhardt expected, the park was quiet. He sat on an old green park bench and waited for Perdovick.

It was snowing out and Reinhardt had bundled up tight. While waiting he thought about touching Amy. She had been doing badly that night, suffering seizures in bed. Reinhardt grew worried, hoping that he could have some time with her.

At thirtieth-eighth hour, Perdovick didn't show up.

Reinhardt checked his watch several times and paced around the bench.

Forty minutes later, a figure appeared on the trail. The person was dressed in a thick fur coat, hat, ski mask and pants and was holding a satchel. Reinhardt stood and faced the figure.

The person stopped fifty feet from him and took off his ski mask.

It was Perdovick. They activated their nearspeakers.

"What the hell took you so long?" Reinhardt said. "I've been freezing my ass out here for almost an hour—"

"I had to make sure I wasn't being followed." Perdovick looked around. "You bring the money?"

"Did you bring the serum?"

"Right here."

"Hand it over."

"First the money."

"I want to see the serum in action. Then I'll tell you where the money is."

Perdovick opened the satchel and took out an injector gun. He loaded a yellowish-clear serum into a gun and held it.

"No, first you inject yourself with a dose," Reinhardt said.

"But I—" Perdovick said.L

"In five seconds, I'm walking."

Perdovick frowned, placed the injector gun against his neck and shot himself. He grunted and then lowered the gun. He staggered a bit and then shook his head. His eyes looked glassy.

"Now toss it over."

Perdovick threw it over. Reinhardt caught it out of the air and looked at it. He hesitated for a second, wondering if it was poison or a disease that Perdovick had given himself immunity to. But then he had to take a chance.

He placed the gun against his neck and shot himself. Pain burned through his neck like fire and he groaned. A second later, a strange tingling passed through him. His mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He grew dizzy for a second, then recovered.

"Now the money," Perdovick said.

"First walk towards me," Reinhardt said.

Perdovick obliged him. When he was twenty feet, nothing happened. Then fifteen. Then five. Then one.

No nearcosis occurred.

"Like I said, the counteragent will only last about fifteen minutes, so you'll have to give yourself numerous injections. But not too many. It's toxic in high doses."

"Thank you."

"Where's the money?"

"Behind that tree."

Perdovick trotted behind the tree, came back a moment later with the case and opened it. Inside were several bearer bonds. He flipped through them and smiled.

"Pleasure doing busi—"

A faint thwap rang through the air. Perdovick got cut off in mid-sentence. He dropped the case, clutched his throat and spun around. Blood gushed out from his fingers. He shuddered once and dropped to the ground. His blood turned the surrounding snow red.

Shocked, Reinhardt stumbled back. A second thwap came through the air and something hot and painful struck his arm. He spun around and clutched his arm. A third round struck the nearby tree.

Adrenaline struck him like a battering ram. He ran and dove behind the nearest tree, his heart racing.

He heard footsteps rushing towards him, crunching in the snow. With trembling hands, he tore off a branch and waited. The footsteps grew closer. Shaking, Reinhardt peeked out. Two figures darted through the trees towards him.

Fear paralyzed him. He had a phone and could call the cops, but how could he explain this? They might take the serum away. Still, it was better than sitting here.

He took out his phone and started dialing when the footsteps came closer. Terrified, Reinhardt ran. Another shot hit the tree near him. Startled, he dropped the phone and ran through the park. Quickly his lungs began to burn.

As he reached a stone bridge overlooking a river, another bullet hit the snow near Reinhardt. He tripped on the ground, staggered, tumbled down a snow bank and banged his knee on some ice.

When he hit the bottom, he groaned. His leg and arm burned with pain. He gasped and tasted snow on his lips. He licked it and groaned. The two figures were closing in.

He limped under the bridge and checked his arm. It was only a flesh wound, thank God. The figures were several feet above him. Were they vulnerable to distance? Only one way to find out.

Reinhardt grabbed a large stone next to the bridge and waited. He heard the two men climbing down the hill next to the stone bridge. He held his breath, waiting.

If he screwed up—no, don't think that. Just wait.

The crunching of the snow grew louder.

Reinhardt tightened his grip on the rock and waited, his breath misting every other second like a frenzied bull.

When the first man appeared, Reinhardt threw the rock at him. It struck him in the face and shattered his nose and knocked out his teeth. Blood squirted out of his wounded face and he dropped like a cement bag thrown off a cliff. The second figure tried to bring his gun up, but Reinhardt rushed him.

As he closed in, the second gunman grew woozy. He stumbled around and fired. The shot hit the bridge behind Reinhardt.

He stepped closer and got his first good look at the men. They were Hovengale's bodyguards from back at So Close. He had smashed the Latino's face with the rock and the bullet-scarred white man dropped the gun and rubbed his eyes. Tears and snot leaked down his face. He giggled and dropped to the ground. If he stepped a few inches closer, he'd kill the man.

Reinhardt clicked on his nearspeaker.

"How did Hovengale find out about Perdovick?" Reinhardt said. "Were you tailing him?"

"This...my game..." The bullet-scarred man giggled and rolled in the snow.

"Answer me!"

"I'm flying!" The man fell backwards into the snow, flapped his arms and legs and made a snow angel.

Reinhardt grabbed the gun and took a few steps back. He waited till the man's head cleared. As soon as it did so, the man stumbled up and started to reach behind his back.

"Don't! Click on your nearspeaker and then put your hands up slowly!"

The man did so.

"Hovengale. How'd he find out?"

"It wasn't hard. It's not like Perdovick was good at spotting tails."

"Where is Hovengale?"

"At your place. Once we were done with you, he wanted us to help him take care of your wife's body—"

Terror smacked Reinhardt's spine like a two by four. Without even thinking, Reinhardt squeezed the trigger. The bullet caught the man just below the right eye. He shuddered and dropped.

Horrified, Reinhardt ran back up the snow bank. Along the way he tucked the gun in his coat, grabbed the satchel full of serum and raced back to his car.

When he arrived back at his house, he found that the door was open. He injected a second dose in his arm, then drew the gun, rushed inside and over to the open bedroom.

Hovengale was standing a little over fifty feet from Amy's bed. She lay in bed, her body wasted. Her face was tight with fear, her nearspeaker was off and she had a gag over her mouth. He must have injected the near serum into both of them.

"Get away from her!" Reinhardt said.

"I told my men to kill Perdovick and bring you in relatively unharmed, but I guess you took care of them," Hovengale said, his voice coming through a nearspeaker.

"Back off!" Reinhardt thrust the gun at him.

Hovengale stepped away from his wife. Part of him wanted to squeeze the trigger, but he held off. He had already killed one man.

"Give me the serum!" Hovengale said.

"Fuck you!" Reinhardt said. "Get out of my house right now or I'll call the cops!"

"Fine then. I'll just let your wife die."

Hovengale turned and started walking away.

"What are you talking about?"

"Let me take the gag off your wife."

Hovengale crept over, pulled it off and activated her nearspeaker.

"He shot me up with something!" Amy said. She turned her head and revealed an angry red injection welt.

"That formula you took was poisoned," Hovengale said.

"No, it wasn't!" Reinhardt said. "Perdovick said—"

"You think I'd just let Perdovick take it without altering it?"

Reinhardt swallowed hard, cursing himself. "You set us up!"

"Of course I did." Hovengale scowled at him like a disappointed teacher. "You think I forgot what you did to my mother all those years ago."

"I didn't do it! My father—"

"The sins of the father shall be visited upon the sons."

Reinhardt laid the gun on the floor. "Please, give my wife the antidote! I'm begging you!"

"Return the serum and I'll think about it."

"It's yours." Reinhardt slid the satchel over. Hovengale picked it up and checked it. After a moment, he appeared satisfied.

"Now give her the antidote."

Hovengale reached into his coat pocket. But instead of an antidote, he whipped out a stun pistol. Before Reinhardt could make a move, Hovengale shot him in the chest. He shuddered and dropped to the ground.

Hovengale walked over, grabbed Reinhardt's arm and dragged him over to Amy.

Reinhardt blinked and laughed weakly. "It wasn't poisoned, was it?"

"No. And I would have left you alone if you hadn't tried to get the serum."

"I only wanted to be close to my wife before she died."

"And now I'll grant you your wish. You can spend the last fifteen minutes of your lives next to each other."

Reinhardt tried to resist, but his muscles were too weak. When they were close, Hovengale took out a pair of antique handcuffs from Earth. He slapped one cuff around Amy's wrist and the other around Reinhardt's.

As he finished, Reinhardt's muscles started to return. He tried to grab for Reinhardt, but the man slapped a second pair of handcuffs around the metal bedpost.

Once they were secure, he stepped back and said, "You have fourteen minutes left, Galvoris. I suggest you use them wisely."

With that, he turned and left the house.

Reinhardt grunted and tried to struggle against the handcuffs, but they were too tight. Amy moaned and wept.

"That fucking bastard!" Reinhardt said.

Since they were close, he shut off his nearspeaker and Amy did the same a moment later. Reinhardt looked around for some way to open the cuffs, but there was none.

He turned back to her and looked into her eyes.

"We finally got what we wanted," Amy said. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but at the same time she laughed.

Reinhardt laughed bitterly as well. "Yeah, I suppose we did."

She reached out her free hand and touched his right cheek. Her caress felt so soft and smooth and wonderful, like a silk scarf brushed against his face. He touched her hand and kissed it and wept as he felt her skin for the first time. Still, his mind focused on escape.

"We have to get out of here," Reinhardt said, looking around.

"Do we?" Amy said.

He looked into her eyes again. He wanted to break free. But another part of him said no. Amy would be dead in a few weeks anyway. And part of him would die with her. In a perverse sort of way, maybe Hovengale had done them both a favor.

"No, I suppose we don't."

"Hold me," Amy said.

Reinhardt wrapped his arms around Amy and held her tight. She hugged him back. He leaned back and kissed her on the lips, the cheeks and the forehead. It felt so wonderful to touch her. Even if it was only for a few minutes, as far as he was concerned it was time enough.

Fredrick Obermeyer is a graduate of the State University of New York. He enjoys writing science-fiction, horror, crime and fantasy and has had stories published in the Dead Inn, Alternate Realities, NFG, Fedora, Electric Spec, the Fifth Di, Newmyths.com, Fusion Fragment, Space Westerns and the Destination: Future anthology.