“She has a professional touch,” Boro replied. “I thought she made herself at home on my ship pretty quickly, she might have experience with a lot of different era ships.”
“I noticed that too,” Nigel said. “Why?”
“I might need her, and I don’t think she’ll come along for what’s next for me.”
They stepped into an open lift and Spin pressed the button that read CONCOURSE. It glowed in green, red, and yellow colours, making it the flashiest button on the panel. “What’s next?”
“He was able to give me fourteen months from today. My life expectancy’s improved, but that’s all he could do without a genetic key,” Spin explained. “He told me where to get the key, and when I give it to him he’ll use it to completely unlock me. No more life cap, and I’ll be able to use any genetic treatment or alteration.”
Boro lowered his head and chuckled softly.
“What?” Nigel asked him.
“She’s burying the lead because this key is in a dangerous place,” he replied. “Out with it, I’m with you, no matter where it takes us.”
“Me too,” Nigel said.
“I’m going to Sa-Hadin,” Spin said. “I’m after an air-gapped artificial intelligence called the Iron Mind who has the key in storage.”
“Oh, at least it’s not in the Geist System,” Nigel sighed.
“It’s the fourth planet in the Geist System,” Spin said, feeling the lift move underfoot.
“Ha!” Boro burst sharply, nodding.
“The good news is that the security around Sa-Hadin is compromised,” Spin said.
“Oh, well that’s good,” Nigel said. “Really, really compromised? Like we can get in if we’re polite?”
“I’ll have to look into it, but I don’t think Doctor Rogan would send me after this key if he thought it was impossible. He doesn’t seem the type.”
“Oh, good,” Nigel said, brightening.
“What’s the bad news?” Boro asked with an expectant grin.
“Right. Apparently, we’re far from the first people who realize that the security is more lax now around Sa-Hadin. There’s a rush on to raid the facilities in orbit for technology and resources. The Iron Mind will probably be a favourite target. If not, then the vault it's in will be. So, we either get there early, which probably won’t happen, none of our ships are that fast, or we manage to arrive in time to use the rest of the raiders as a distraction while we sneak in and get the Iron Mind for ourselves. Oh, then we’ll have to bugger off before they realize we’re getting away with one of the biggest prizes in the system.”
Boro burst out laughing, leaning against the side of the elevator car. Nigel looked concerned and uncomfortable. “Oh, God, I hope that’s my brother,” Boro said as his dermal computer flashed. “We could use his help.”
“How could it be Shamus? He’s whole sectors away,” Nigel asked.
“Boro,” said a face that looked so similar to Boro’s that it could only have been his brother. “I’m in British Alliance territory,” he said. “The Toris System. Would you like me to pick you and your people up at Beta Bio?”
“My stars, it really is you, Shamus,” Boro said, sobering. “How?”
“Never mind, we’re on our way. Hold there for twenty-eight minutes,” Shamus said. “See you soon, brother.” The message ended.
“Twenty-eight minutes?” Nigel asked, agog.
“They must be closer than they’re saying,” Spin said, looking at the detail code on Boro’s wrist display. She saw the route the message took; from the Toris System, transmitted from a ship called the Sector Jumper using a micro-wormhole generator made by Haven Fleet and it was received by a node just inside the system they were in. She tapped an information symbol beside the ship name on Boro’s wrist and found that it was classified to all but level three Haven Fleet personnel. “He’s military,” she said.
“It looked like he set up with some outfit on the fringe, but I didn’t think it was big enough to make their own ships or to have classified documents,” Boro said. “There’s no way he’ll be here in twenty-eight minutes.”
The sound of someone outside the elevator clearing their throat called Spin and her friend’s attention to the fact that they were standing there with the door open, facing away from it. “Oh, sorry,” she said to the crowd of eight or so people waiting as they left the car.
The concourse was clean but plagued by holographic advertising four metres ahead that competed for their attention. It was like walking under a ceiling of living light, watching holographic people drink, get massages, test weapons, cybernetic limbs, and a hundred or more images of what was on offer in the broad common shopping area.
The floors and walls were covered in brown, soft red and gold colours; designed to look almost Issyrian thanks to the rounded corners and easy curves. They’d somehow managed to balance the colours and lighting so it didn’t look gaudy when you ignored the holograms. “So, this is where companies shop for their tech,” Boro said as he took it all in.
“Can we buy things here too?” Nigel asked. “I mean; do we know for sure?”
“Yes,” Spin said, spotting a storefront with a big red and green cross in front. They had three heavy containment suits on display, as well as a brand-new hull cutter; its arms and circular burning ring almost looked decorative without the regular dings and scorch marks found on the older, heavily used models she'd seen. “I think we’ll find what we need there,” she said.
“Mind if I check out Burns Arms?” Nigel asked, gesturing to a store that was filled with more shapes and types of personal firearms than Spin could take in from where she stood.
“Go get your girlfriend a new toy,” Boro said. “I bet she’ll feel better with a gun in her hand.”
“I won’t,” Spin said, remembering Dorian before the change and how effortless he made violence look. “Just make sure whatever you give Dori isn’t loaded.”
“Why? What do you expect she’ll do?” Boro asked, amused.
“I don’t know,” Spin replied. “That’s the problem. Baby steps. We don’t want all of Dorian back all at once, trust me.”
“You’re right,” Nigel said. “Good advice, I’ll keep the ammo in a different bag.”
Spin gasped and dropped her hand to her sidearm as she noticed Kort and four of his armoured guards coming around the corner fifteen metres ahead of Nigel. “Holy shit!” her weapon was drawn, pointed up but ready to fire as she dodged behind a corner.
Boro started moving with her before he saw what caused her reaction, then he looked over his shoulder and all the colour drained from his face. “He’s tracked us here, I knew I should have spaced Aldo, that fucking rat!”
“What? What’s going on?” Nigel asked, standing in the open, turning.
Kort noticed him, and laughed, his tone too low for a normal human, volume too high. “I think your friends are surprised I’m here,” he said approaching Nigel and extending his hand. “I’m Master Kort, of the Countess Valona Tineau Danti’s court. I’m sure you’ve heard the name.”
Spin moved out of cover, hearing the buzzing sound of tiny bots approaching and watching as Nigel shook Kort’s hand, leaning backwards, his face frozen in shock. One of the tiny drones projected a private hologram with the face of a metal android reciting a message; “Please holster your weapon. Lethal action will be taken if you open fire. This is your only warning. Just because you can’t see our security, doesn’t mean you aren’t surrounded by it.”
Hoping that Kort was under the same restrictions, Spin dropped her handgun into its holster. “Nigel,” she called out calmly.
He turned and retreated to her, looking terrified. Whatever he heard or read about Master Kort must have been running through his head as he made that short trip across their side of the concourse.
Master Kort’s face looked more disgusting than before – artificially widened to at least twice the size of a large human’s, eyes too small and dark, and a smile that seemed to split
the lower half of his face, revealing an extra pair of front teeth and three canines on each side – the rest of his body was widened to match. She knew he had a whole catalogue of high-end cybernetics installed under his expensive dark tunic and cloaks. “You’re out of your territory,” Spin said. “They execute slavers here.”
“What? Here?” Kort asked, holding his broad hands up. Shoppers were getting out of the fifteen-metre space between Kort and Spin, seeing that there was an ominous undertone between the pair. “I’m not a slaver here. I collect debt by offering an opportunity for my debtors to work their totals down with labour. It’s better than prison, and it makes me an important buyer to many of the companies that operate out of Beta Bio. I’m a celebrated guest.”
“The evidence I have will probably change their minds,” Spin said, glancing at Boro, who was still hiding behind a pillar, sweating, breathing heavily. Nigel was looking at him, then back to Kort. “I think I’ll send it.” She brought her wrist up and started scrolling to the file she compiled on him using the Countess’ security database.
“That would be hasty,” he said. “My mission has changed, so you’re aware. Our magnificent, brave prince has been killed, and I’m about to depart on a mission to retrieve his body for the royal family. You’re no longer any concern to the Countess.”
Spin scrolled through the many offenses she had evidence of. “Unlawful imprisonment, trafficking in sentients, torture by hand, torture by device, refitting a ship for the purpose of smuggling slaves, murder, and so many more things that the British Alliance would love to see real evidence of,” Spin said, smiling. “It’s all organized, ready to go,” she taunted.
“They won’t prosecute most of those crimes, they happened outside their territory,” Kort countered, looking a little more serious.
“Oh, so it’ll be fine if I send this out to the local authorities, the interstellar British Council, the British Alliance Military. They made it easy, you know; one button and they’ll all have it.”
“You don’t have evidence,” Kort scoffed.
Spin sent him a copy.
His comm unit; a bulky, old looking, gaudy black bracer, beeped and blinked. He looked for a moment and took two steps towards her.
“Ah!” Spin warned, her finger hovering over the SEND graphic on the arm of her jacket.
He stopped. “I’ll forget I saw you here, just this once if you don’t send that information.”
“You know the British Alliance won’t be able to ignore it, considering they’re on a public crusade against slavery.”
“I concede,” Kort said with a bow, his mouth twisted in a snarl.
“Then leave,” Spin said with a shrug. “Get off the station right now.”
Kort was straightening up when he looked at the pillar. “Wait, I hear something, is that snivelling?” he asked, starting to smile. A few steps to his left was enough for him to catch a glimpse of Boro, whose eyes were closed. “Is that Boro? Oh, this is a good day. How are you, old friend?” He looked to Spin then, a too-wide grin beaming. “Your object of flirtation and I spent many hours together. I know so much about him that we ought to be friends by now, isn’t that right, Boro?”
Boro flinched at the sound of his name. Nigel looked helpless, near panic as he looked from his uncle to Kort then back. “C’mon, man, we can’t draw or shoot here, it’ll be fine,” he was whispering.
"In his finest and worst hours, in his dreams, you are his siren, his comfort, the target of his lust and even love. I can't tell you how many fantasies of you we watched once he was back in his cell, where he thought we couldn't see his surface thoughts. So many nights he imagined you were there, in a close, warm embrace. A mental image that took so much of his pain away as he drifted off to sleep, and we were surprised at how it could turn salacious, even pornographic. The things he imagined he would do to you if he got you alone…" Kort taunted with a grin.
"It's not true! You couldn't see, not when I was in my cell!" Boro burst, almost dislodging from where he hid, taking a step out then back.
"Oh, it is! We could see all your surface thoughts, the cell was wired," Kort laughed.
That was enough. Spin felt deep sympathy for Boro, who she daydreamt about more than once herself when things got tedious. She wasn't going to listen to Kort taunt him anymore, especially for something that he shouldn't know about in the first place, something that should have always been private. “Oops, I sent the authorities that whole data package on you,” Spin said, doing just that. “Better get going, Kort.”
“Fuck you, Aspen! I’m going to hire hunters to bring you back, and I’ll make sure the Countess never even finds out I got you so I can take my time with you!”
The floor beneath Kort turned red, and the holographic adverts over his head disappeared, replaced with a slowly bouncing red arrow. “Now who’s on the run?” Spin asked, smiling back at him.
For a moment it looked like Kort was going to offer a reply, then he leapt up and across the space above to catch a railing and flip himself over onto an upper walkway, leaving his four guards behind. The red light under his feet followed him as he ran at an inhuman speed.
Spin turned her attention to Boro, who was watching Kort, wide-eyed. “Let’s get back to the ship,” she said, taking his hand and stroking his face. “He’s going, can’t come back, don’t worry.”
Twenty-Four
Until Spin saw Boro shaking, staring blankly, and barely reacting to the world around him, she didn’t realize how much she took his friendly, steady-nerved presence for granted. Seeing Kort when he least expected him broke Boro down, it was the only phrase Spin could think of that described the condition of the man she helped all the way back to the Convoy King, which had docked near the Concourse at Beta Bio, paying the extra cost to be so close to the shipping centre.
“Hey, Boro, how are you feeling right now?” Leland said, scanning Boro thoroughly but quickly.
Boro glanced at him, then shook his head. Nigel was under his shoulder, guiding him towards medical, and as soon as Boro saw through those doors, he lashed out, recoiling, retreating as fast as he could with no regard for the people around him until he was across the hall inside the pantry storage with two bulkheads between him and whatever he saw in medical that caused his reaction.
Spin went in right after, sparing Nigel, who was already getting up off the deck, a glance to make sure he was whole. He looked all right. Confused, concerned and a little irritated, but all right. Della was in the pantry already, and Spin could have kissed her for the reaction she gave Boro. Instead of screaming, or trying to run when he backed into her, she put her hand on his shoulder, let him collide with her and looked into his eyes when he turned his head, trying to determine if she was friend or foe. “It’s okay,” she soothed. “You’re surrounded by friends.”
That kept him still, looking at this new person with kind eyes. Spin gently took his hands and drew his attention. “Breathe deep, slow,” she said. “You’re aboard the Convoy King, my ship. Your ship is docking with us right now, and you’re among friends. No one will get to you.”
“Everywhere I look I see that fucking chair,” Boro said, his voice shaking, a tear rolling down his cheek.
A notification buzzed against Spin’s wrist computer, she ignored it. “You saw something in medical.”
Boro nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. “They strapped me in every day for weeks, one experience after another. I thought I was safe in my cell, that they could only put things in my head, not see what was going on. What he said was true…"
Spin cut him off, taking his cheeks in her hands gently. "I'm happy I was there for you somehow, any way you needed me." His eyes searched hers, twitching from one to the other frantically, as if trying to understand what was going on, or find out if she was lying to him, so she kissed him gently. As her lips were softly planted on his, Boro's breathing became deeper and slower, so she retreated and smiled at him reassuringly. "I don't need to know anything about how yo
u imagined me, they were just daydreams, probably a lot like the ones I've had about you while I was serving Sun. Now you're here, and we can know each other for real."
Leland slipped a tiny injector into her free hand. “We’re nowhere near that chair.” Spin cringed inwardly as Leland's comment brought most of Boro's distress right back. He obviously didn't hear what Spin was saying while he fetched a sedative.
“He brought it with him, he’s going to take me back,” Boro burst. “I won’t go back!”
Seeing that Boro was backsliding, she pressed the small auto-injector, a square much like the one that just administered medication to her, to the back of his hand and watched the energy drain from him. “Don’t tell me I can’t see my brother,” she heard a voice that was similar to Boro’s say from down the hall as a hatch opened.
Spin and Nigel got under Boro’s arms and started walking him out of the pantry. This was not the reunion that Boro would have wanted with his older brother, but it looked like they didn’t have a choice. Leland scanned Boro again and nodded. “His heart rate is back down, he’s no longer in danger.”
“Boro!” a similarly squat, powerful looking man with a few grey hairs said as he rushed to him. He was wearing a thick bomber jacket, heavy combat boots and a savage looking sidearm over a uniform Spin didn’t recognize. Everything on him was black. Boro recognized his brother, and his arms slowly lifted, outstretched. Shamus caught him and held him firmly. “I’m here, little brother.”
Watching Boro lean on Shamus to the point where his legs were almost lax was a relief, but also deeply sad for Spin, who wiped a couple tears away. If Boro’s brother’s best quality was good timing, then it would be enough, as far as she was concerned.
“I gave him a sedative with a cocktail that will help him process the traumatic experience he’s had,” Leland explained. “The best place for him now is his quarters, maybe with a minder?”
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