by Dan Moren
“Well,” said Kovalic, taking them all in. “Don’t we look nice? What do you say we go find ourselves a priceless artifact.”
CHAPTER 9
The Queen Amina was enormous. Easily the biggest ship that Addy had ever seen, though that wasn’t saying much. She’d ridden a transport up to the station during training, and seen Commonwealth destroyers overhead on Nova, but it wasn’t like she’d ever been on an Illyrican dreadnought or anything. Still, the starliner might give the famed Imperial warships a run for their money.
As they traveled all around the known galaxy, starliners like the Queen Amina had to be largely self-sufficient. The ship played host to thousands of passengers that were going from point A to point B in various levels of luxury – or the lack thereof – but there was also an equally massive number of crew to keep it running and see to the passengers’ every need. And then the people who saw to their needs. It was less a ship than a city that just happened to move from place to place.
Even docking a ship of that size was a problem. Jericho Station was the largest space station humanity had ever built, but the Queen Amina made up a not inconsiderable fraction of the station’s size and mass. There was simply no way for it to moor at the station.
Instead, half a dozen of Jericho’s docking ports had been given over to tenders that ferried passengers over. Addy and Kovalic were in the executive class; tickets there were pricey, but not out of the reach of their credit line. It also meant they had a dedicated boarding area on the Queen Amina and, as they stepped off the tender, Addy’s jaw dropped.
The tender had been luxurious beyond Addy’s belief, but the starliner surpassed even her imagination. Constellations of lights, seemingly untethered to any physical objects, floated above her, giving the impression of distant stars. Every surface was polished within an inch of its life, from the brass balustrades that swept up the curved staircases to the gleaming wood of the reception desks. Crushed red velvet rustled underfoot like autumn leaves. Even the air smelled enticing, a mix of sandalwood and vanilla that made Addy think of fresh cookies.
Maybe they actually have fresh cookies.
An attractive woman in black livery appeared at her side, silently sweeping her up to the first empty reception desk, manned by a handsome – Christ, was the whole staff this good looking? – man with a dark brown complexion and bright blue eyes.
“Welcome to the Queen Amina, madam,” he said. “Just place your sleeve near the pad and I’ll retrieve your reservation.”
Addy placed her wrist over the pad, which immediately glowed green.
The man gave a brilliant smile and his eyes defocused slightly, flicking back and forth as he consulted an ocular display. “Thank you, Ms Bell. We’ve prepared a stateroom for you on the forward end of level 18, our executive floor. Your sleeve will act as your key, and can authorize lifts and trams as necessary. Likewise, you can charge any expenses to your room and we will settle them at the end of the journey to the account you have specified. You have full access to all our facilities, including the pools, gyms, and lounges, and we’ve granted you a complimentary ten thousand credits for use in the casino.”
It was an effort for Addy to stop her eyes from widening at that. Ten thousand credits? I haven’t seen that much in my whole life, and they’re just giving them to me? Her mouth had gone dry, but she nodded in what she hoped was a most elegant manner. The fake IDs Kovalic had acquired for them had clearly passed muster – and then some.
“Of course, the safety and security of our guests is paramount,” the clerk continued. “While we pride ourselves on having top notch security, if there are any belongings that you don’t feel comfortable having in your quarters, you are of course welcome to store them in our vault, which is available at any time of day.
“Most of our facilities and many of our eating establishments are likewise open at all hours. For departure, we sync our clock with Jericho Station time, but we understand people may be on different schedules. Is there anything I can do for you right now?”
Her mind was awhirl with all this information, but she shook her head and offered up what she hoped was a pleasant smile. “Nothing that I can think of right now, thank you.”
“Very good. In that case, you’ll find the forward lift tram just to the port side here. Your luggage has been brought onboard and delivered to your room. If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to call upon us, any time of day. Please enjoy your stay.”
With a murmured thanks, Addy drifted away from the desk and towards the heavily gilded sliding doors to her left. The display above the door was holographic but designed to mesh with its surroundings, the text in thin rounded letters and an old-school dial showing the slow approaching progress of the tram.
A moment later, she felt the flicker of a presence and looked over to find Kovalic standing beside her.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said. “You get the whole spiel?”
“Yeah. Still kind of taking it in. It’s more than a little… overwhelming.”
“I hear that,” said Kovalic. “It can be tough to look past the trappings, but let’s not forget what’s beneath the surface. Just like in nature, the prettier things look, often the deadlier they are.”
Should I be writing down these pearls of wisdom? Maybe Kovalic could print them on a calendar.
With a gentle chime, a soothing voice announced the arrival of the forward tram, the doors sliding open onto an empty car. They flowed in among the crowd of guests that had amassed, some chatting idly with their fellow passengers, others keeping to themselves, but all of them dressed in the latest fashions.
The tram was somewhat more functional and less ornate than the rest of their surroundings she’d seen so far – Addy supposed the cars must be in use by all the guests, not just the high-paying ones. It whisked them quickly and silently towards the forward end of the ship, its “windows” displaying holographic scenes of some old Earth city at night, all sparkling lights and gleaming towers. Addy rolled her eyes at that – she’d never quite gotten the Earth fetish. Nova’s population had exploded after the Illyrican invasion of the homeworlds; it became the capital of the Commonwealth and absorbed an enormous population of Earth ex-planetriates, who had promptly set about trying to recreate humanity’s home atop the work of the original colonists who had been building something new. It gave her some sympathy for the Nova First movement that had cropped up in recent years, arguing that the original colonists should have a bigger say in the planet’s administration.
The tram stopped a few times on the way to the residential area; several folks got off at the esplanade, in search of a midnight snack or other entertainments, while more departed at one of the casinos, looking to get started on their vacations despite the late hour. The rest, including Addy and Kovalic, were deposited near the lifts for the executive staterooms. From there it was just another short lift ride until they were outside room 1817, which unlocked at a wave of their sleeves.
Even after all the luxury Addy had seen thus far, the stateroom drew an involuntary gasp from her. Her last room, at the School, had been a fraction of this size, and she’d shared it with Song. Also, it had been a lot emptier.
Sleek, elegant furnishings populated the room, from the glass coffee table seemingly hovering over the floor – an indulgent use of repulsor fields if ever she’d seen one – to the fully stocked walnut sidebar in the corner. Her feet sank noiselessly into the plush carpet, and she had a sudden urge to kick off her shoes and run her toes through it.
But the most impressive feature was the wall opposite her, which seemed to open onto the vast emptiness of space. Stars blared from far away, and vertigo threatened to take hold as her perspective wobbled; she leaned against the wall for support.
“Wow,” Addy breathed.
Kovalic had to nudge her slightly farther into the room, though the indulgent look on his face suggested he’d caught the combination of awe and nausea on hers. He reached over and touched a control
on the wall, and the starfield faded back into a solid bulkhead with a more soothing geometric pattern painted on it.
As she straightened up, he strode past her into the room, walking a path around the perimeter, waving his sleeve around as though trying to get a signal.
Addy raised an eyebrow.
“Just ensuring our privacy,” said Kovalic. “I’m sure White Star extends their customers every courtesy, but I’m equally sure that the security staff wants to know what’s going on in their patch.”
Four different doors led off the main room to smaller compartments, and Addy couldn’t resist poking her head in each. One held a spacious closet, complete with a clothes presser and various garment bags that could be sent out for cleaning. Another was a small washroom, clearly intended for guests – no shower or bathtub.
The next two led on to separate rooms, each spacious in their own regard, complete with their own large closets and washrooms, the latter of which had compact but very fancy showers with more spray nozzles than Addy could see the use for.
As she stepped back into the common room, Addy noticed that their suitcases had been carefully parked there, making no judgment about which bedroom they would be using, or what the sleeping arrangements would be. She looked over at Kovalic, who was finishing his perambulations. He glanced at the sleeve and seemed satisfied by the result.
“If there’s any surveillance gear here, it’s too good for me to find,” he said. “I’ll check the bedrooms next. Did you have a preference?”
Mutely, Addy shook her head. Either would be nicer than any place she’d ever slept. Kovalic started with the one on the port side, leaving Addy to claim the other.
Slowly, Addy unpacked her case, which mainly contained a few more outfits in a similar style to the one she wore. At least they’d all been designed using fabric with some give to it; clearly the tailor had been instructed to keep comfort and freedom in mind. It was nice to know she wouldn’t be ripping a seam if she did, at some point, have to punch somebody.
As she hung her clothes in the wardrobe, she marveled at the lack of other equipment that they’d packed. She’d always imagined all these covert operative types loaded up with gadgets and hidden weapons, but if the team had any she’d missed out. That was just fine by Addy: the infantry had trained her on a variety of weapons but what she had taken away from her time at the School was that she was the only weapon she could ever really count on.
There was a rap on the doorframe and she looked up to find Kovalic. “Pardon me. Just need to finish the sweep. Settling in all right?”
Addy looked down at the rather paltry amount of clothes she’d just put in the drawer, then back up at Kovalic. “I’m worried there might not be enough space in here.”
He laughed and stepped in, starting to circle the perimeter with his sleeve again. “Pack light…”
“…and nothing you can’t afford to lose,” Addy finished. “Colonel Benton?” The School’s commandant seemed to have an aphorism for any and every situation.
“Some things never change,” said Kovalic. “Is Musa still there?”
Addy rubbed at her neck, remembering a long list of throws onto exercise mats. “Sergeant Djalair? Yep. Ornery as a pissed off badger.”
“So he’s mellowed, then?”
Cracking a smile, Addy finished folding the last few clothes, then slid the drawer shut. “Sir, can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
“Why… why did you recruit me? I’m sure Colonel Benton would have given you your pick of the School’s candidates.”
Kovalic kept scanning. “Who says he didn’t?” The sleeve chimed and he consulted its screen. “Looks like we’re all clear. I’ll get out of your hair.” He crossed back to the room’s entrance. “Get some sleep, specialist.”
“Yes, sir.” Addy sat down on the bed.
“And Sayers?”
“Yes?”
“I picked you because you’re the right person for this job. The rest of them, well, they may have what it takes on paper, but, if I’m being honest, I don’t trust anybody who looks perfect on paper. I prefer my team with a few rough edges. Good night.”
“Night,” said Addy as the door closed behind him. She fell backwards onto the bed. Some people might have been nervous the night before a big job – pre-mission jitters. Not her. If anything she felt like she might have trouble sleeping from the excitement. Like the night before Christmas, or so she’d heard; most of the places she’d grown up weren’t big on holidays.
She was ready to jump in with both feet – this mission was her chance to prove herself. To Kovalic, to Taylor, and most of all, to herself.
CHAPTER 10
To Eli, the lower decks of the Queen Amina somehow managed to look both exactly like – and entirely unlike – the dozens of other ships he’d been on in his life. There were the usual corridors studded with conduits and panels; that kind of thing was universal.
But the one big difference was that it wasn’t a military ship. Those had been stark, spartan. By contrast, the lower decks of the Queen Amina teemed with activity: crew members and a couple of passengers bustling from place to place, waste and maintenance drones trundling past, and even a few small animals – mostly cats and dogs, though Eli swore he heard the squawk of a parrot. Large swaths of the levels below the esplanade had been transformed into informal markets: semi-permanent stalls selling coffee, food, and even trinkets and crafts. They blurred by too fast for Eli to take them all in, especially with the crowds bustling all around him, but he was pretty sure he’d seen one with jewelry made out of spare retaining clips and bolt fasteners.
It’s like the bottom of the ocean: a whole different world. Wonder what it’s like upstairs?
He trailed after Tapper and Taylor, following them through the many twists and turns, until they came to the first of their berths: a small cabin with two bunks. The commander was in another shared room a couple of doors down.
“And I thought the Cav was tight,” said Eli, slinging his bag onto the top bunk. Besides the beds, the narrow room had a chair, tiny desk, and a viewpanel that showed some pastoral scene that was probably supposed to be soothing, but just seemed incredibly fake. Eli cycled through the options and eventually landed on a seascape, because at least it felt consistent with being on a ship.
“Ugh, you’re going to make me nauseous,” said Tapper, who’d dropped into the chair. “Just turn the damn thing off.”
“No thanks. I’ve already lived in a windowless box.”
Eli hopped up on the bunk and lay down, hands behind his head. I guess you could call it cozy. If you really, really wanted to overstate things.
“So, now what?” he said, with a glance at Tapper.
“Gotta be a bar around here somewhere,” the sergeant said.
“Really? That’s your veteran move?”
“Look, you want to find out what’s really happening on a ship this size? Find the place where people spend their time drinking. No better option. Besides, I could use a beer.”
Eli gave him a tired thumbs up that was not particularly enthusiastic.
At a rap on the door, Tapper opened it to admit Taylor.
“At least you two know who you’re bunking with,” the commander said, leaning against the one patch of exposed bulkhead. “Lady in mine sounds like she might be professionally-ranked for snoring.”
“You haven’t heard Tapper on a good night.”
“What was that, kid?”
“Uhh, nothing.”
“All right,” said Taylor. “Let’s get this show on the road. The Queen Amina will be departing the Jericho system in a couple hours, once they finish taking on passengers and supplies. I want a full report on logistics and transport options by the time we hit the Badr sector. I’ll be working on getting access to the ship’s computer system. Any questions?”
Yeah, way too many.
“Nope,” was all he said, though. He’d learned from the last few missions he’d be
en on that he was expected to figure out these things on his own.
And with that, Taylor disappeared, leaving Eli with little choice but to follow Tapper to the nearest watering hole. It was that or go to sleep, and despite the late hour he wasn’t quite ready to turn in just yet. Something about being on the mission had him feeling wired.
The bar, which catered to the ship’s crew that called the lower decks home, proved to be a surprisingly nice stall a few junctions away from their room. It was a far sight from the kind of places that Eli had seen on Caledonia growing up: smoky joints with tables and chairs, a wood bar, and lots of music and carousing.
There was still plenty of carousing, to be sure; at this hour, it looked like the place was just starting to fill up as crew members came off shift. They managed to snag the last two empty seats at the bar, and Tapper ordered them both pints of the local, whatever that was.
It arrived in metal cups more appropriate for serving a milkshake, magnetized to a tray borne by a rolling delivery drone – no fancy glasses down here – and proved to be thin and bitter. Eli sipped it anyway, trying his best to blend in with the rest of the clientele.
Tapper, for his part, raised his drink in a salute, then disappeared into the burgeoning crowd, leaving Eli alone with the unappealing beer. I wasn’t even good at mingling when it wasn’t for a mission.
Surveying the rest of the bar, he played a little game with himself, seeing if he could figure out what the rest of the patrons’ jobs were from their appearances alone. There were a few muscled types who screamed security, and the people with tool pouches hanging off their belts had to be engineers. Beyond that, it got a lot harder.
Picking up his drink, he vacated the seat at the bar and began a kind of aimless meandering around the establishment’s fringes. Besides the counter itself, there was a small cordoned off area of tables and chairs, most of which were occupied. Loping through them, he kept on with his game.
Let’s see. I think she’s wearing chef’s whites underneath that jacket. And he’s got a hammer in his belt – carpenter? Do you still need a carpenter on a spaceship? I guess maybe there’s wood somewhere?