by S M Wright
They almost made it to the end of the first row of temporary stores, with Mina already having spent a good portion of her share on overpriced wireless headphones—but oh, the sound quality was so much better than her retro set—a rainbow of hair dyes, and some new shoes. Katya hadn't bought anything, despite Mina's goading. Rather, she tracked and counted the security drones. As Mina disappeared under the trap of another store, Darnaah's Rare Finds, a herd of shoppers scuttled by Katya, fleeing from something. She frowned and ducked under the tarp. Inside, Mina browsed odd-shaped sculptures with open mouths that stretched almost to the bottom of their bodies. They had no eyes and seemed withered in pain.
Katya edged along tables on the other side of the dimmed space, working her way to the proprietress. Once in front of her, she picked up a large stone that glowed and turned it about in her hand; the woman, an extremely pale Filitre, jumped at the chance to start a conversation.
"It is Gammorah salt, very healthy to have on long journeys. It helps cut back on space sickness and improves air quality in whatever room it's placed." The woman, presumably Darnaah, laughed. "Except the engine room. Nothing can purify that!"
Katya tilted the salt lamp and eyed the compartment that held the bulb and electronics. "How long is the battery life?"
"It uses soolarian crystals—also good for purification. It'll outlast you!"
Darnaah stepped closer and pointed out more features, in addition to mentioning the price and what a good bargain it was. While she did this, more foot traffic plodded by outside.
Katya reached into her pocket and removed actual hard currency. As she unfolded it, she commented, "The market has quite a bit of activity today, huh?"
Darnaah made a hacking sound as if to spit. "Unwelcomed company. Keep your heads down." She took the money proffered to her and opened her register to place it within. "Magistrate Elites are never welcomed. They have a bad effect on business."
"Understandably," she said while Darnaah wrapped the lamp. "No one enjoys shopping in fear." She cleared her throat and glanced around at the other items in a casual manner. "These Elites must be something to effectively shut down this market."
"They're some of the worse." Darnaah handed her a bag with the lamp that Katya didn't even want. "Watch yourself and your girl."
"Thanks for the tip." Katya walked over to Mina with her purchase. "Come on, you've shopped enough. We'll get our parts and head out. We have another shipment to pick up."
Mina complied by falling into step beside Katya, the mention of a nonexistent shipment registering in her mind, eroding the distraction of all the shops. As they headed to the parts shop, Katya grabbed Mina's arm and yanked her under an awning.
The store, though lit, was void of any customers, save for two men dressed in Magistrate uniforms, special ops markings displayed on their arms. They had shades over their eyes. Black hair, covered eyes, pale skin, a homogeneous species . . . Katya realized she was staring at what Sotiris would grow to resemble. The connection brought a prickly sensation, a ghost remembrance of the boy's touch. Could they do that? No, her father had said Sotiris's ability was abnormal. Even so, Katya wouldn't test her father's theory.
A woman, similar in appearance and wearing the same uniform, paced in the store's doorway, her arms crossed. Saliva caught in Katya's throat, but the woman briefly faced them. She then turned back to the men and said something in the Oneiroi language.
"Slowly," Katya whispered through her teeth as she directed Mina toward the lifts. Any lift. Next to her, Mina shook, her head shifting backward toward the Elite soldiers. Katya squeezed her arm. "Don't look back. Walk normally, not too fast. We're shoppers with nothing to fear."
"But—"
"No." She kept the girl in step with her.
A crowd of shoppers had already gathered near the lift by the time they arrived.
"We're going to fit into this one no matter what," she told Mina.
She weaseled her way through the crowd with Mina, earning them curses, but they managed to squeeze their way into the lift. Her face set, Katya selected their ship's level before the others also put in their intended destinations. She hated the number of lit lights, which trapped them, slowed them, and caged them like animals. Her fight-or-flight reflex raged. Varying routes back to the ship flashed through her mind. All the while, she willed Mina to be prepared to move fast all while not saying a word. Rather she expressed it through her tense body language. They could very well find themselves against a wall, quite possibly with a blindfold on.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Akakios leaned over a series of computer panels. The operators, who had occupied the space, hung back while their chief fumbled to describe their operations to the Oneiroi—an unexpected and, by their tense posture, unwanted intrusion to their day. Drones. His attention returned to the chief as the man mentioned their surveillance drones being connected to their systems. With a hand gesture, Akakios ceased the man's shudders and ramblings and launched Charis into action.
"Is this your input pathway?" Charis asked as she removed a facial recognition device that would sync with the drones from its padded carrier. It was gathering use in the core Magistrate planets, but out in the Mezzo and Fringe, few, except for Elites, had seen it. Akakios and his crew had only received the device themselves three weeks ago as their search had lost traction. Magistrate command had decided it might speed up their task, or at least, make it achievable.
"Y-yes—"
"Good." Akakios cut off further incomplete sentences. "We'll take care of the rest."
Charis plugged in the device and waited for it to boot. The security personnel moved farther away from their stations, giving them space, though a few allowed their interest in the device to get the better of them and inched closer.
"It'll be a few minutes, Captain." She ran her fingers over several buttons and screens on both the facial recognition device and the consoles directly next to it. "Their system has a few components of older software that's slowing down the process."
"Understood." Akakios reached for his com. "Where is your current location?"
A minute passed before Ambrosios responded. "We're in a parts store. Our grease monkey—"
There was a brief hissing sound, and then Chrysanthos spoke, "We're leaking, sir. I'm getting a new trap and new lines to correct the problem."
Akakios frowned. "Chrysanthos, you're not with the ship?"
"No, sir. I wanted the correct parts the first time around. I should be able to fix the problem while we're station-bound before it becomes a health hazard."
"Can it wait?"
"Yes. But, with all due respect, sir, we shouldn't hold off too long. It's better to do it now while it's an easy fix than wait until we have a bigger problem on our hands. We don't want any of the coolant getting into our life-support systems. And I'm not going to be the ship's canary. I . . ."
More followed, but it never fully registered with Akakios. The numerous screens in front of him crackled, and then multiple life-forms appeared, scuttling about their days. Was Sotiris among them? The station marked a small chunk of an expansive galaxy; Dandis VII was a major hub on the Fringe, and he couldn't shake the thought that maybe they'd passed through. The images broke again and returned. One screen stayed blank longer until the facial scanner commandeered it, lines of red sweeping over beings' faces.
Over his team's coms, Akakios broke the silence that had fallen after Chrysanthos's explanation: "Stay alert. The facial scanner is live. If they're here, be prepared to move fast."
"If there is . . ." The security chief trailed off when Akakios faced him.
"You"—Akakios smirked—"can prepare your security teams to scramble if our targets are here."
"And who are your targets?" The man withered beneath Akakios's attention and tried to retract his question.
"Plasovern sympathizers." Akakios crossed his arms. "Are the drones also controlled in this room?"
"Th-they're programmed to follow designated
lines," the security chief squeaked. "We keep them monitoring on those lines, with more drones in certain areas, areas prone for incidents."
"Incidents?" Charis prodded while she hovered over the facial scanner.
"With any station, there are bound to be situations of unrest," the man said, bordering on disrespect with his hardened tone when his professional pride stirred. "Whenever you cram hundreds of beings in what amounts to a bucket of metal plates, bolts, and wiring, they're bound to lose it. Of course, with the miners, you have their working conditions playing a role. Yes, we have brawls, drug problems . . . cases of vandalism—"
"Any cases of Plasovern making appearances?" Akakios cut in.
"Plasovern? Never." He stood as straight as a board by this point. "They may pass through, the ones whose faces aren't widely circulated, but they don't mess with the station. The drones are a major deterrent for that type. They value anonymity so they can continue to troll through Magistrate space. Can't very well do that if their faces are caught while they're setting off bombs, can they?"
"So no graffiti linked to Plasovern?"
"There've been kids—stupid kids—who've gotten their hands on spray paint, but their 'art' wasn't solely Plasovern inspired. They were just trying to get a rise out of people, stuff juveniles do."
Akakios stepped closer to the man. "I'm sure." Then glancing at the many screens, he asked, "Can the drones be piloted remotely?"
"Yes. My men are trained to manually pilot them."
"Do you maintain surveillance records?" Akakios pressed.
"Only a month's worth. Special cases involving arrests, felonies, and other offensives are kept longer."
"We'll review those—" A loud, frantic beeping emitted from the scanner, and Akakios's heart skidded. "What do we have?"
"One moment, sir."
Charis entered a few commands, and screens went blank before being filled with the feed that had triggered the facial scanner. The grid scanned a woman's face before turning green with several small blimps. Data ran next to her on the screen, verifying within 98 percent accuracy that she was a match for the woman who'd taken Sotiris. Her hair may have changed styles since Gilga, but she could not change her face.
"Zoom out." He pointed to the adolescent humanoid beside the woman. "Pull that girl's face and run them both through the banks. What level are they on?" Akakios fought the encroachment of bitterness that Sotiris's absence triggered. Ambrosios's voice ran through his head, questioning their targets' actions, particularly as he watched them stroll calmly—though the girl's movements were stiff—through the passageways, shopping purchases in hand.
Behind him, the security chief said, "Level 12 B. It's one of the main docking sectors."
"Take control of the drones, Chief, and get any of your men in that area to apprehend them." Akakios grabbed the man by the collar and yanked him close so his eyes were visible through his dark sunglasses. "They're not to leave this station, but do not kill them. It is imperative that they be taken in alive."
He released the man, who inhaled and raced to a communications station, where he issued orders to security officers on the level, which included telling them to hook into the drone feed. The security command center rumbled with noise. Some of it came from Charis inputting commands into both the scanner and the station's security consoles; the rest of it was from the security force leaping into action and taking control of the drones.
"Don't crowd them," Akakios said. "We don't want them to know they've been discovered."
Walking to a quiet corner, Akakios opened his own com, setting it to the wideband before addressing his entire crew in their native tongue. "On station. Security forces rendezvousing to pick them up. Once secured, we'll take them into our custody. Sotiris does not appear to be with them."
Echoes of affirmation crossed over the line before Akakios disconnected it and returned to Charis's side. "Any hit on the man?"
"I'm getting the hang of the system," she said. "There are hardly any drones in the actual docking bays; however, I've patched into the security cameras there." She frowned. "They're older and might be erratic with the facial scanner, or not even compatible."
"Do what you can." Akakios shifted his weight, tempted to pace. The energy building in his limbs needed released as it coiled, demanding action.
"Sir." Charis pointed to a nearby door. "I can handle things here." Seeing his hesitation, she jerked her head toward the doorway.
Katya undid the locks on their ship remotely before clicking on her com. "Rein, where are you?"
"Still at the ship."
"Prep the engines; send out a request to leave." She handed Mina her bag before wiping her sweaty palm against the front of her outfit. A drone went by.
"Katya, what's going on? Departures are being declined."
"Pick up your speed," Katya said to Mina. She returned her arm to the girl's shoulder, forcing her to keep up. Behind her, the drone never strayed far. She clicked the button on her com. "We could be in trouble." Rein cursed over the line, but she talked over him: "Be prepared to make some interesting maneuvers. We'll be back in a few minutes. Don't draw attention to the ship."
Katya and Mina passed a group of travelers, who'd been milling by one of the station's general information consoles, in time to see a group of security officers come around a corner. Pulling Mina, she forced the girl through the crowd and toward the station walls. They were almost at a full run now. The pounding in her ears drowned out the curses and noises from crowd as she and Mina rocketed past them, or maybe as the security officials did. Katya gripped her service pistol.
Additional security officers exited a corridor in front of them, the corridor they needed. The ones behind them were closer.
Swallowing, Katya tightened her grip on Mina's shoulder. "Stay down but keep moving to the ship. Don't look back."
With that, she yanked her AVI-13 from its holster with her left hand and fired.
Screams echoed throughout the area as bursts of weapons fire beat out a chorus of chaos. Mina followed orders, darting for the corridor while Katya laid out suppressive fire. As she did so, she weaved between and around the decorative structures and planters to avoid being hit. Blasts ricocheted around her. Gritting her teeth, she ducked, a blast missing her head by an inch. An entire career with the Magistrate—she fired—but this was the most she'd ever been shot at, and she'd been shot at a lot. A man closed in on Mina. Bringing up her pistol, Katya compressed the trigger. The blast struck the man high in the shoulder, and he tumbled to floor.
Need to move—Katya thrust up from her hiding spot and ran. Her firearm burned her skin. Would it overheat or run out of charge first? She shot a bolt at a security officer who was in her immediate path, catching his leg. Turning back, she fired a few shots at the ones behind her, trying not to hit bystanders. Bam! A shot hit the wall not far from where her body had been—but she was getting closer to the corridor. Just a little farther. Mina had long disappeared in it. Hopefully, she'd make it back to the ship unhindered.
"Stop her!" one of the security officers shouted.
"Stop!" Another—one too close—screamed.
Katya spun and discharged her pistol. It connected with his shoulder but didn’t stop his return volley. Katya hissed when the shot grazed her arm.
Can't stop now. She fired again, disarming him. Closer to the corridor. She had to get closer. She was a foot away when, across from her on the other side of the promenade, a lift door opened. The blood and all its warmth drained from her face.
A mess greeted Akakios. Several security officers lay scattered on the ground while others chased after the woman's retreating form, which forced its way to a corridor. Smoke clung to the area. In one case, a stray shot had struck a console panel, spark
ing an electrical fire. A couple of the officers doused it with a special foam before it could spread.
"Captain," Charis's voice said over his com. "The girl's entered the section with the older cameras; I'm working on getting her movements ascertained."
"Get on it." Akakios removed his AVI-15 and ran into the fray. "Don't kill her!" he shouted.
If he got close enough, he could end this, prevent further bloodshed, and keep the idiots from killing one of the few people who knew where his nephew was. A shot barely missed his head. Another security officer fell. And then, his target's firearm lost charge or overheated. In the grand scheme, it didn't matter. Akakios reached outward with his mind, prepping the contact. Look up, look up! He charged close—only a meter away—but now she was in full bolt.
She vanished into the corridor, with Akakios in pursuit. Leveling his AVI-15, Akakios fired a warning shot. She twisted her head toward him enough. Akakios took full advantage. Their eyes met, and Akakios reached—air rushed from his lungs. He toppled to the ground face-first. A familiar presence grappled at his mind, overeager and spewing images that blurred together and proved discordant. He hissed and drew in breath while trying to protect his mind from the overpowering connection.
"Cap-tain—" Charis . . . but her contralto was a trickle over the gushing torrent of emotions, images, garbled words, phrases that made no sense . . . then the connection broke. Akakios wiped his mouth, which had pooled with drool. His mind reeled in pain. They still had him.
Katya burst through the secondary corridor. So close to being in the clear. She heard the Oneiroi captain fall to the ground but did not attempt to get visual confirmation. No, she charged on while her brain burned. Sotiris. Apparently, he'd grown bored. Still, her mind also strayed back to the fully grown Oneiroi. Had he managed to do something?
"Out of the way!" she screamed as she passed a crew of Cseks. She brandished her firearm, now worthless, for good effect. They scattered. With a clear path, Katya tore up the Minerva's ramp. The light tremors coursing through the metal beneath her feet told her the engines were primed and ready. Hitting the closing mechanism, she barreled toward the cockpit.