Chilling Effect_A Novel

by Valerie Valdes

  Eva took a deep breath and hung her head, peering up at Leroy through the hair that had fallen over her face. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but here she was. No sense closing the barn door after the cows got out.

  “So, hey,” she said. “I guess my communion didn’t work out after all. Why don’t you take your little guy back and give them another shot with someone else?”

  The ahirk monk waggled their tendrils. “When a communion fails, there can be no redemption. There is only the cleansing.”

  Eva began to back toward the entrance. “Cleansing, huh? Is that like a nice relaxing trip to the spa? Maybe a hot stone massage and a nutrient dip?”

  “No,” Leroy said, advancing on her with his meaty hands clenched into fists. “You will be given to the waters of flame, that your defective form may be purified and give rise to a new Redeemer without flaws.”

  “Fed to an underwater volcano, huh? Sounds hot.”

  Leroy paused, cocking his head to one side. “It is hot, yes.”

  “Maybe you should redeem yourselves a sense of humor. Here’s a voucher.” Eva pulled out the rigged EMP and flicked it on, tossing it at the door behind her.

  She wasn’t prepared for the entrance door to blow outward like it had been kicked by a giant. The impact sucked her back, onto the planet’s cold surface, her isohelmet flickering on just in time to seal her suit against the thin atmosphere. The pressure coils activated to maintain internal pressure, but unfortunately did nothing to cushion her fall on the hard rocks outside. She bounced once, then slid to a painful stop.

  Leroy’s helmet also activated, but the monks apparently had not been prepared for a breach in their monastery. They fell to their knees, gasping, as the carefully regulated interior atmosphere began to equalize.

  To her surprise, the parasites abandoned their hosts, scuttling down the backs of the people and toward the elevator to the redemption room. They moved slowly, like crabs with arthritis, dragging long, wet tails behind them.

  Bet they won’t be “cleansed,” she thought bitterly. What a bunch of jerks.

  {{And what of us?}}

  Eva scrambled to her feet, eyeing the lumbering form of Leroy and his still-intact parasite. “I’ll drop my helmet for a few seconds. You can make a break for it. Pretend to be my buddy’s parasite, say you escaped just in time.”

  {{You would let us go free?}}

  “I can still chuck you out the airlock if you want.”

  {{We would rather take our chances with our own kind. Though we are sorry not to see the great dark seas in the sky.}}

  Eva feinted right and ducked under Leroy’s outstretched arm, sprinting back to the monastery entrance.

  “Get ready, bug. Move quickly or you’ll get to see that dark after all.”

  {{We . . . appreciate being given a choice.}}

  She skidded to a stop, opened her helmet, and counted to five as she held her breath. There was a feeling of lightness, then another like someone running a hand down her back, and then it was gone. The helmet closed again.

  Eva didn’t bother looking behind her. Up ahead, La Sirena Negra flew in, its landing gear engaged. But Leroy still advanced on her, his gait growing more sure as he moved.

  ((Leroy’s compromised,)) Eva pinged at the crew. ((Stun him.))

  A few seconds later, the cargo bay door opened. Vakar bounded out with his helmet already activated, while Pink hung on to a hook next to the door, behind the gravity curtain that kept the ship’s atmosphere intact. Vakar landed, weapon raised, and with two quick shots he nailed Leroy in the back.

  The big man didn’t stop.

  “Well, that’s unfortunate,” Eva murmured.

  Vakar fired again while running toward them, but missed Leroy by a few centimeters. Pink, meanwhile, was preparing her sniper rifle, her hands moving with quick precision, eye patch flipped up to reveal her cybernetic eye.

  Eva found herself backed into the monastery, and she bumped into the cargo pallet, which she’d forgotten in the confrontation. She kick-started the levitation device, and it rose into the air, hovering at hip level.

  “Hey, Leroy, catch!” She grabbed it like a throwing disc and spun it toward him, wrenching her biceps and shoulder, hoping belatedly that the cargo wouldn’t be damaged.

  Leroy did catch it, grabbing it in both hands and staring at her over the top of the containers. “Why do you want us to catch this?” he asked. “It is very illogical.”

  Pink shouldered her rifle and peered through the scope.

  “That’s me,” Eva said. “Highly volatile, unreasonable choices. Nighty-night.”

  “It is not time for the local star to be—”

  Pink fired, the tranq disc attaching itself to Leroy’s ample backside. His eyes rolled up into his head, and with a soft sigh he slid to the ground.

  Vakar got an arm under him and lifted him up, starting to carry him back to the ship, smelling pained as he exacerbated his own still-healing injuries.

  “Throw him on the pallet!” Eva shouted. Behind her, the lift returned, so she rolled and hid behind the containers in case the approaching monks were armed.

  They were. One of their shots cracked open a container, which oozed yellow liquid.

  Vakar hefted Leroy onto the pallet, and Eva yanked on it, running backward toward the ship. Pink caught it and angled it into the cargo bay, while Eva and Vakar leaped through the open door and lay flat on the floor, projectiles whizzing past them.

  Pink closed the door as Eva pinged Min to get them gone. The doctor rested the butt of her rifle on the ground, pursing her lips and glaring at Eva like God’s own mother catching her with a hand in the cookie jar.

  “What happened this time?” Pink asked. The ship shook as their shields absorbed a hit, but she didn’t lose her balance.

  Eva scowled. What had happened? Shit had gone wrong again. She should never have agreed to let Leroy come with her in the first place. This was all her fault, and now all she could do was damage control.

  “Leroy has a parasite on his neck,” Eva replied. “Get it off him.”

  “Parasites are tricky, woman; they—”

  “Get. It. Off him. Vakar?”

  “I have not injured myself further.” Vakar sat up slowly, checking himself for shrapnel. Underneath the pain, he smelled inexplicably of vanilla and almonds. The translator couldn’t pin that one down, but suggested “savage delight.”

  “Bullshit. Secure the cargo while I help move Leroy to the med bay, then let Pink examine you, too.”

  “I’ll get Leroy. I don’t need you dicking around in my business.” Pink put her rifle away in a locker and gestured to the pale redhead lying on the pallet. “That’s two injuries in two cycles, hon.”

  “I know.” Eva realized her hands were trembling, whether from anger or despair, she wasn’t sure.

  Por qué no los dos?

  The cargo listed as the ship evaded more oncoming fire. Eva got to her feet and steadied the containers, grimacing at the pain in her arm and shoulder. Vakar grabbed some nearby straps and helped her secure them more carefully. They’d already lost one batch of that crap; it would probably be coming out of her pay for the job. The thought put a sour taste in her mouth.

  “You were not injured?” Vakar asked.

  “Probably won’t want to wrestle you for a while, but I’ll live.”

  “That is good.”

  She cocked a grin at him. “I know, you’re tired of getting your ass kicked. Not my fault I’m more flexible.”

  He smelled slightly spicy. “I am sure I could submit to a handicap if necessary to place us on equal footing.”

  “You sassy little stinkbug, if you think—”

  Min spoke through the intercom. “Cap, where are we delivering the cargo?”

  Eva pinged her the coordinates, trying not to show her displeasure at the interruption.

  “Plenty of time for wrestling,” Min said in a teasing tone. “That’s a few hours away.”

 
“Nah,” Eva said, wagging her head and giving Vakar a rueful smile. “It’s going to take me at least that long to wash the memory of all that shit off.”

  More importantly, she wouldn’t be able to focus on anything more complicated than standing in a hydrosonic shower until she knew Leroy was going to be okay.

  Chapter 7

  Damages

  The bug-juice cargo was handed off to another grumpy scientist, this time in a big mobile facility on Beskore, in the Gespora system. Unlike the last place, this one was well within BOFA territory; Eva wondered what cover story they were using for their activities here, especially since she had no trouble with the system or planetary authorities when she was filing the appropriate customs forms after coming through their Gate. While the majority of the planet’s inhabitants lived in elaborate underwater bubble cities at subduction zones on the edges of the few large land masses, The Fridge’s people had set up on the surface near the equator. The steady rain in the area matched Eva’s mood perfectly, right down to the fact that it was composed of sulfuric acid.

  “There were supposed to be twenty containers,” Grumpy said, with a tone that suggested he’d be asking for Eva’s manager.

  “A container was damaged in transit,” Eva replied. “You won’t be charged for it."

  “I don’t care about the cost.” He gestured at one of the heavily armed security guards flanking the entrance. “See that she doesn’t leave until this is resolved.”

  Eva forced a smile and settled in to wait. By the time she was released, she’d cleared some of her q-mail backlog, sent a few late payment notices on old invoices, and even reposted ads for her various shell companies’ services on the usual free boards and AR relays. She’d also plotted several ways to escape if things went from dull to dangerous in a hurry.

  Anything to keep from thinking about Leroy.

  She was surprised to find her handler just outside the entrance. Pholise wore a spacesuit like Eva’s, only armless, and they had coverings for each of their three lower appendages but no visible shoes. The pattern was also different, nearly translucent, with a cloth wrapped around the outside like flexible glass.

  “Nice to see you in person,” Eva said. “You couldn’t message me the next job instead of getting in my face?”

  Pholise’s head ruff rose slightly, then fell again. “The imperfection in the previous assignment was deemed sufficient to warrant more direct attention and oversight.”

  “I screwed up, so I have to talk to the real live instructor instead of finishing the q-net class by myself.” So Grumpy had called her manager after all. Splendid.

  “That assessment is not inaccurate.” They rotated slightly. “The damaged container will be deducted from your compensation. Or it can be added to your debt, according to your preference.”

  Eva snorted. “What is it with people giving me a choice between two things that suck plutonium exhaust? You know I almost got turned into a glorified zombie, right? And one of my crew is still in the med bay getting a parasite disentangled from his brain stem and spine.”

  Pink wasn’t sure Leroy would make it, but Eva didn’t tell the tuann that, partly because she was avoiding telling it to herself.

  “The Fridge cannot be held responsible for imperfect execution of a given task.”

  Once again, it took every ounce of willpower Eva possessed not to punch them. Lightning flashed in the distance, forking across the saffron-colored sky.

  “What’s my balance, then?” Eva asked.

  Pholise told her.

  “That can’t be right. Who’s coming up with these valuations? Because they’re—”

  “Criminal?” Pholise’s ruff twitched, and this registered with Eva’s translator as amusement.

  “Yes, ha.” At that rate, Eva would be working for The Fridge until this planet dissolved from the rain. And here she had thought this would all be over in a few dozen cycles.

  “The amount owed was altered due to the increased risk associated with your performance metrics.”

  “So someone added a few points to a multiplier somewhere and now I’m double-fucked. Great.” She wished she knew as much about this kind of math as her mother did, but there was a reason she hadn’t gone into banking, namely that she found it more boring than piloting spaceships and punching fools. And yet being captain of her own ship meant doing loads of math every cycle; not the same as monitoring transactions or auditing thousands of accounts in multiple currencies, maybe, but close enough for hand grenades.

  Don’t think about Mom, she told herself. Focus. You don’t want your next call to her to be bad news about Mari.

  Pholise sighed. “If you are finished airing your grievances—”

  “As if.”

  “—then your next assignment should be communicated.” They did a strange, swaying dance for a few moments, then straightened. “You are to proceed to the planet Futis, to procure a shipment of a delicate nature.”

  “Is it alive?” Eva asked, thinking of the cats she still hadn’t sold.

  “It is inactive. Delivery coordinates will be provided once your cargo is secure and you have departed the system.”

  Inactive? Machine, then. Proarkhe, maybe, like the one on Suatera, though she’d be surprised if The Fridge would trust her with something so rare and valuable. Especially if they were worrying about her performance metrics.

  “Aren’t the Futisians a bunch of people-eaters?” She crossed her arms, trying not to think about the scab on her neck that she wanted to scratch until she bled.

  “In a strictly legal sense, no, they are not.”

  That sounded bogus. “So then, yes, but they have really good lawyers. Come on, if you know something, tell me so I don’t end up with a parasite in my cuca next time.”

  Pholise swayed again. “Your ill will toward me is notable, Captain Innocente, but my intent is not to make your job more difficult.” They made a sound like a sigh. “On Futis, a card will be assigned to you that signifies you are a member of a sapient species.”

  “A card? Like, a physical card I have to carry around in my pocket?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s pretty archaic,” Eva said. “What’s the point?”

  “If you should lose your card, it would signify that you were not, in fact, sapient. In which case, you would be considered meat, and may be butchered as such indiscriminately.”

  It was Eva’s turn to laugh. “Of course. They could just do a commlink registration or something, but then how would they keep up the gray market trade in exotic body parts?”

  A couple of pings came in from Min. ((Bad news. Glorious.))

  Eva darkened her helmet and stared up at the sky. Sure enough, there was that asshole’s enormous ship, descending through the crimson clouds. It looked like one of the old-fashioned stars people used to put on Christmas trees, with four large points bisected by four smaller ones. She had only ever seen them in pictures; her grandparents favored angel tree toppers, and her mother had continued that tradition until she stopped putting up a tree at all. Still did presents in the shoes after the New Year, though, for the wise men following a star . . .

  “I guess this is goodbye again, Pholise,” she said. “Wish I could say it was a pleasure, but I kind of hope I’ll get to shoot you once this is all over.”

  Pholise straightened until they were a half-meter taller than Eva. “Your selfishness and cynicism do you no credit, Captain Innocente. Did it never occur to you that a handler is also in control of me, and my assignment is you?”

  It hadn’t, of course. She’d been so wrapped up in keeping her lies straight, keeping her crew ignorant, keeping her face from showing how much this would be driving her to drink if she hadn’t sworn it off. She was being selfish all right, and it stung to acknowledge it. Especially with what had happened to Leroy. If he didn’t make it—

  Eva flushed and looked away. “Mierda. How did things get so bad with these creeps? Why hasn’t anyone stood up to them?”

>   “As was said before: they are not in the habit of meddling with anyone who has nothing to lose.”

  Futis. Damn it all. This was going to go over like a fart in church with her crew. Eva ran toward her ship as Glorious’s ominous star descended, and the acid rain turned to a dusting of sulfide metal snow.

  Eva returned to La Sirena Negra and sat through an extra decontamination cycle as Min evaded their fish-faced friend, telling herself it was for her safety and everyone else’s. It had nothing to do with stalling before she had to face everyone, especially Leroy.

  Once inside, she ignored the cats that curled around her legs as if trying to trip her and went straight for the med bay. The room was barely big enough to fit three people, lined with cabinets containing supplies, equipment or both. They weren’t fully stocked—hadn’t been for a while, with business being mediocre—but Pink had a knack for synthesizing what they needed in a pinch.

  Leroy lay on the bed that took up the center of the room, curled up on his side with his eyes closed. He would have looked like he was sleeping peacefully, covered by a blanket from the waist down, except for the gas-and-nutrient mask covering his nose and mouth, and the parasite still latched to his neck. His tattoos flickered like a broken holovid.

  I should never have let him come with me, Eva thought. She’d told herself that so many times now that it might as well have been a mantra. And yet she couldn’t undo it, couldn’t take it back; all she could do now was hope he didn’t die because of her mistake.

  Pink sat on a stool in one corner, eye patch flipped up so her cybernetic eye could watch Leroy. Her brown skin was a shade paler than usual, like someone had done her makeup with the wrong color foundation.

  “He’s stable,” Pink said before Eva could ask. “Not many people have run into these things, so finding information has been like digging for coal in a cave at night.”

  “Has Min—”

  “She’s helping search the q-net, yeah.”

  “Is there anything else I can—”

  “No, but if I think of something, I’ll ping you.” Pink rose to her feet and cracked her neck. “You delivered the cargo?”