Heritage Lost

by S M Wright

  Katya inhaled the strong smell of industry in what amounted to an overbuilt city. The chemicals and dregs . . . she hadn't smelled a similar combination since Reznic. It was putrid but familiar, almost comforting. In the toddler carrier, Sotiris, even in his sleep, scrunched his nose as if affronted by the odor. She estimated after a half hour they wouldn't even notice it anymore.

  Shaking her head, Katya pulled out a small portion from the proceeds of the Minerva and handed it to Rein. "It's not necessary. I think it's best we part ways here."

  In front of them, Mina shifted her weight between her feet, her gaze shifting from Rein to Katya and back again. She'd known this moment was coming; however, she doubted the teen could grasp the reason for the sudden break. On board the transport, Mina had inquired about the visible shift but had accepted her insistence of "later."

  Rein shifted his pack again before shrugging. The right corner of Katya's mouth dropped. There was a glint in his eyes, something she didn't trust.

  "Your call." He grunted, striding off through the platform. Katya watched him leave, his back straight as a ramrod.

  A chill passed through her body, similar to the time she had turned in a Freccian exam knowing she'd failed it. Language had never been her strong point—sometimes even the nonverbal.

  "Come on." Together, she and Mina went in the opposite direction, mixing in with the throng of life-forms.

  Not too long after leaving the platform clusters, they became lost among the masses. As they walked toward the crowded lower levels of the city, an uneasy sensation settled in her gut again. Around her, the scenery resembled a tetanus playground: cold, rusty metal everywhere. She swiveled on her feet to avoid a panhandler whose face was marked with oozing red dots. Katya had no idea what he had, but she was determined not to contract it. So determined, she almost stepped into a ball-jointed automaton that disjointedly moved forward, undeterred from its path.

  "Almost like home." Mina wrinkled her nose and curled her lips as she said it. Her brown eyes, meanwhile, seemed to turn a shade darker before she tilted her head away from Katya.

  "Yeah."

  Facing forward, she sidestepped others in her path; the walkway had little rhyme or reason. Even the recreational lanes for hoverboards or bicycles had pedestrians on them. Despite the various distractions, her thoughts returned to Rein and the cold, calculating gleam in his eyes. He had been amiable enough during the parting, but there had been an undercurrent. He had been too calm and composed, especially after she had pulled a weapon on him. His offer to at least accompany them until they got a ship stood out to her.

  "So, what's the plan?"

  "We get a ship or quickly book another transport," Katya said. "Either way, we get off Jordah fast."

  "Any particular reason why? Jordah's huge, and it'd be easy to get lost here, just like on Reznic."

  "Rein's on-world." Katya slowed and directed Mina onto a side pedestrian street. A hover bicyclist zoomed by them. "And he doesn't know where his loyalties lie." People said a lot about women scorned, but men could be just as bad.

  Mina rubbed the back of her neck, bringing her hand upward until her hair, now a shade of garnet with orange undertones, stuck out at odd angles. Katya wished she'd stuck with the more muted black and purple, but the teen had insisted, wanting to eliminate the dye from her pack. "What happened between you two?"

  "He crossed a line." Katya rolled up one of her sleeves to reveal red marks, some more purplish. "He saw me talking to Hedda Strom—"

  "The"—Mina's eyes bulged—"Hedda Strom?"

  "She approached me about Sotiris." Katya shrugged and concealed her arm. "She gave me some information and an offer, but that doesn't matter. Right now, we need to focus on getting a ride and new IDs." Katya frowned when she spotted a drone farther on the same road. She diverted paths onto an alternative route, Mina following. "Keep up. We're getting some headwear."

  Katya and Mina found a store and purchased scarves. With the cooler temperatures and cornucopia of cultures living on Jordah, they would blend. Katya also bought two pairs of fashion sunglasses to hide aspects of their faces, at least enough that it would take drones and their operators a few extra seconds or minutes to make a positive ID. Feeling more concealed, they resumed their hunt for a method of travel.

  Their feet took them to a shop on the same level that specialized in parts and smaller classes of ships. From its roster, the proprietor appeared to be a collector of rust buckets; some, from the photos and specs, were no longer spaceworthy, many belonging in museums. So their search continued until their stomachs complained.

  "There's a sandwich shop over there," Mina said in a tone close to a whine. "It might be good to get off our feet, at least for a while.

  Katya obliged the teen, and before long, they devoured their meals at a table isolated from the others. Katya removed Sotiris from the carrier and placed him on her lap. Smiling, she ran her finger against his cheek to see if he would wake to eat the now-cooled soup she'd gotten for him. Only after she ladled a small portion into his mouth did he sputter awake. Mina moved to block Sotiris from the view of the other patrons, though most of them—those not already immersed in their meals—watched a program running on a holoscreen.

  Sotiris mumbled random sounds and reached for the spoon, showing more interest in the soup than the food they'd been forcing down his throat for months. A simple broth soup with rice and mystery meat had done the trick. Such a simple thing and he loved it. She forced down laughter as she spoon-fed Sotiris more of the concoction. Next to her, Mina elbowed her before nudging her head toward a table not far from them.

  Two men sat talking, but she couldn't make out what they were saying, nor anything interesting about the two humanoids in general: just two spacers eating a meal and catching up. Katya shrugged and freed her hand from Sotiris, who'd latched on to keep the spoon in his mouth.

  "They said Elites are on-world." Mina fidgeted in her seat.

  "Fascinating," Katya replied as if they were simply discussing the weather. "Anything else?"

  Mina fell quiet, her eyes closed while she strained to hear more of the conversation. Then she shook her head.

  "Don't stress too much about it." Katya gathered some of their trash. "It's a large metro planet; it's bound to have Elites stationed on it. We'll just keep a lid on our little friend here."

  "Reznic didn't have Elites."

  Katya chuckled. "Trust me, Reznic had its share. They just weren't as flashy as the Oneiroi or as grotesque as the Breks." Though, some had passed through on special projects, but Mina didn't need to know that. She placed another spoonful of the soup into the toddler's mouth.

  Sotiris finished the small container of soup, and Katya figured they, namely Mina, should be able to replicate it. She returned Sotiris to the carrier; he fussed and fought, rather pathetically, against his confinement. Gathering all the trash, she had Mina dispose of it before they set out again.

  Several more shops peddling ships, with crafts that Katya had either questioned their functionality or were out of their budget, came and went. She suspected they would have to settle for a transport to another planet, one on the outskirts of space where they'd work and build up their funds. She didn't want to think of the years such an approach might dictate. It'd be a far cry from where she'd pictured herself all those years ago. She dreaded what it'd mean for Mina and Sotiris. They'd have to pick a cooler world, something tolerable for all of them. Still, Katya clung to the hope that it wouldn't come to that.

  But even with their proceeds from the Minerva, they were outpriced, leading Katya to take them farther into Jordah's underbelly. And when the lift doors opened, it felt like they'd entered a new world. The sky was absent, obscured by the next level up's pedestrian ways. Graffiti sprawled across its metal walls, no doubt serving as calling cards to different gangs' turfs, and a certain level of grime hung on all their surroundings. More trash lined the fringes of the streets, which were limited to smaller crafts. The peopl
e themselves reminded her of Reznic—poor, hardened, armed, and eager for payouts. She and Mina didn’t want to delve farther into the bowels of the city.

  "More like home every minute," Mina muttered. "Next level would be even closer, I think."

  "I'm afraid you might be right." Katya shifted a wiggling Sotiris while pointing to a malfunctioning neon sign that read "rax's hips & ars." Its burned-out letters suggested its wares were exactly what they wanted. "There's a shop this way."

  By the time they arrived, the proprietor, a Borelle with long antennae, was throwing stuff under the counters. He had a plated head and an extremely angular facial structure. Differing from some of the Borelle Katya had seen, he had white dots as markings instead of the normal pale yellow, perhaps from lingering in the lower levels away from the sun. He glanced at them after they approached, his antennae shifting through the air before he resumed packing up his shop. Satisfied with the current appearance of the counter, he tossed what appeared to be weapons—very illegal ones—into a safe that had been concealed behind metal plating matching the rest of the store's interior.

  Katya blinked. Obviously, they didn't frighten him. After ensuring Sotiris was concealed, she went to the counter, where he examined them again for a much longer span of time, his antennae slicing through the air. Then he grabbed another arm full of firearms and carted them to the safe.

  "You appear to be in a hurry." Katya scanned the bins of odd parts and photos of ships on the walls, most in the form of floating holograms.

  "Lizards," the Borelle said. "They've been tearing apart shops today. I'm just covering my bases, that's all. What are ya, meddling cops?"

  "No," Katya said. One of the ships on the wall caught her eyes, a small D-Class ship that spacers had nicknamed "The Sparrow" due to its size and dull façade. It'd be worthless for moving cargo, but it would get them around and was also within their price range. "Lizards, you say?"

  "Jar'rasks, Elites." The Borelle contorted his face as if he'd doused his tongue with lemon juice. "They're the Elites we got blessed with. Been here for months, a minor inconvenience. But this morning, they've decided to tear apart the city and stores. A friend on the next level up was busted for his exotic wares—"

  "Illegal wares," Katya surmised.

  "Honest compared to some of the stuff sold in the lower levels. Trust me." He slammed the safe's door shut, sliding the metal panel seamlessly over it. "I'm just hiding some of my exotics. Don't want to be lizard bait. The leather purses are psychotic—coldblooded, figuratively and quite literally now that I think about it. Some of the stories I've heard would curl your toes. They have a propensity to rip off limbs, ya know? No thanks, not for me."

  "You might want to do a better job hiding your exotics."

  "I'm actually thinking of closing shop and disappearing for a while. Can't be too safe, right?"

  "Probably wise." Katya pointed to the small ship. "But before you do that, I'd like to purchase this passable vessel."

  "Passable? Passable?! That vessel is spectacular, an amaz—" He retracted his current pitch after Katya headed toward the door. "It's passable! The man who sold it to me—er, gave it to me—he owed me a lot of money. It's spaceworthy and trusty but requires love. Can you give it love?" He leaned over the countertop, a smirk on his face. "Impulse speed, backup solar sails, and a newly replaced FTL drive, albeit pre-owned. The faults? It's not as fast as the newer models, though it has excellent maneuverability . . . some women really appreciate that."

  "And some want to know more about the wiring," Katya said. Next to her, Mina rolled her eyes and went to check out the various racks of goods. "Is it a tinder case?"

  "Wiring was redone shortly after I took over its ownership. There was no choice or else it would have been the new owner's problem. I have all the paperwork." He opened a filing cabinet behind the counter and flipped through its contents until he removed a folder. He handed it to Katya. "Take a look."

  Katya accepted the folder. "A little old school."

  "When you have so many assets, you use every avenue to catalogue your ownership of them. Paper is very binding."

  "And not as traceable."

  The Borelle shrugged. "Some women like that too." He winked at her and shuffled a few more belongings out of sight.

  Katya took the time to look at the ship's—the Navar's—specs. On paper, it was decent. Not the greatest, but not the worst. They could probably get a couple of years out of it. It would be tight; they'd have to share quarters, meaning Mina would have to get used to sleeping in cooler temps. She wanted to actually see the ship, but . . .

  "Do Elites come here often?" Katya flipped through the papers, not really reading them. "You said Jar'rasks had been here for months."

  He tilted his head, his left antenna reaching forward. "From time to time, but normally there's warning before they arrive. The grapevine here is very active. This time nothing, then lizards." The antenna snapped back. "You're not a fan of Elites either. I thought not, and that's why you don't worry me."

  Katya handed the folder back. "Where's the ship?" She ran her hand along Sotiris's back. His head rested against her shoulder, suggesting he'd fallen asleep.

  "The Var'nada Docking Complex." He slipped her a map of the city and traced the route they would have to take with two fingers. "Just two blocks from here."

  "Are you opposed to hard currency?"

  "Are you opposed to a paper registry?" the Borelle asked, his mouth stretching to reveal pointed teeth. "I thought not. We sign it here. And if Magistrate ships give you a hard time, you tell them your ship falls under Code 23.5.20B: obsolete, chipless pleasure craft. You won’t have to worry about installing a chip for three more years when that code expires, though I'd still avoid Core planets; they don't take kindly to the obsolete."

  Katya handed the Borelle a wad of currency. He counted through it twice before sliding a quarter of it back to her. Katya raised an eyebrow, but he only shook his head. "I like you . . . you have spunk. Purchasing an unknown vessel without fully inspecting it beforehand. Either you're a fool or running from something. From the cortisol and epinephrine you're emitting, my money is on the latter."

  "Seeing how you already have weapon trafficking on your plate, I suggest you don't dig any further."

  He chuckled, the antennae bobbing with the action. "You're right. I don't want to know." He brought over an outdated registry and signed his name, Jearax, and passed it over to Katya. "Sign whatever name you so please. But try to remember it for when you decide to chip it."

  Katya wrote down Kallistrate, on a whim or as an act of defiance, she wasn't even sure. The name popped into her head, still bouncing around along with the rest of Strom's words. Jearax took the paper and stamped it before sliding it back over to Katya, this time with a keycard, which was far more outdated than the Maelstrom's passcode panel, and a set of codes.

  "This is everything you will need. When you go off-world, you won't get too much hassle from the towers. There are lots of obsolete models in this sector, and most of the operators are on the dole of one gang or the other, or they just don't give a rat's ass if Magistrate procedures are followed. Too much effort, too time consuming."

  Katya slid the paper with the codes into her satchel and slid the keycard into her pocket with the Plasovern communicator. "We'll be on our way. But trust me, if there's no ship or it's not spaceworthy, I will find you and take my money out of your hide."

  "Then we have no worries." He handed her the full file, which also went into the satchel. "If you don't mind, I have more exotics to safeguard. It, however, was a pleasure doing business with you." He bowed and then disappeared into a back room.

  "Mina." Katya nudged her head toward the door.

  "That was risky," Mina said once the door shut behind them. "We could be trapped here."

  "We won't be."

  They walked one block when a drone buzzed past them. Due to its speed, Katya assumed it was on its way to a crime. She draped her arm ov
er Mina, maintaining their pace forward, though the girl shook. After Dandis VII, Katya couldn't blame her. When they turned onto the next street, Katya stiffened. Another drone. Similar to the one before it, it also rushed to some final destination. At its speed, she doubted it'd gotten a decent read on their faces, but—

  Mina shrieked and anchored herself to Katya, who found horripilation overtaking her. A tall reptilian life-form, a Jar'rask, loomed feet in front of them. Its series of massive teeth were lustrous even in the lower level's murky light. Katya's left hand drifted to her weapon, pulling Mina a step back with her other. The beast's tail whipped back and forth as it stepped forward, clawed feet scraping into metal, akin to nails on a chalkboard. Its Magistrate colors and emblems, plus a metal vocal emulator device embedded in its throat, jumped out to her.

  "Stand down," the Jar'rask said in a deep, metallic voice that sounded masculine, but that guaranteed nothing. "You'll be moved into our custody. There's no need to keep this charade going, Cassius."

  Her eyes enlarged—heart dancing—at the mention of her last name. Katya grimaced when she caught the gleam of more eyes approaching them from a shadowy alley off to side. More Jar'rasks. They now had them surrounded on two sides. Fast, extremely dexterous. The reptilians would overtake them in a straight-out race.

  Katya yanked her AVI-13 from the holster, ready to fire—Mina beat her. The stun gun sent out a blast, hitting one of the Jar'rasks. The creature screamed, making Katya flinch, when the current passed through him. He happened to be standing too close to one of his comrades, and the current spread to him as well. The other Jar'rasks hesitated—more flabbergasted than anything. But already a growl rumbled deep in their throats.

  "Run!" Katya prodded Mina back the way they'd come before pressing her free hand against Sotiris's back. "Don't stop running!" She followed, swiveling occasionally to get a few shots off.

  They barreled into the main street, dodging around people before ducking into a side alley. Screams followed in their wake, likely earned by the Elites trailing them. Katya laid out suppressive fire as they ran. Her throat tightened when two of the Jar'rasks climbed across the facades of buildings, racing toward them, their tails and massive claws maintaining their balance. Leveling her arm, she fired and struck one. It collided with the ground, creating a sizeable thud.