Yule Planet

by Angel Martinez

  Both hands in front of her, Sofia screamed, "You're being recorded firing on civilians!"

  One shot fired. Two. Three. Sofia couldn't help a shriek as she tried to urge Moon away from the guns.

  "Cease fire! Cease fire! Weapons up!"

  It took several seconds to realize the cease-fire order, given in a sergeant's must-be-obeyed roar, had come from Fiero. There was still screaming, but her crew were all on their feet. None of the bubbies appeared to be in distress. She hoped that meant the officers had fired into the ceiling or walls.

  "Moon!" Sofia said sternly, pointing to the floor. "Put the human down! Down!"

  With a disgruntled huff, Moon opened her jaws and dropped a hysterical and extremely damp officer to the floor. Petey tapped at Hannibal's neck and accomplished the same thing without yelling, the dripping officer landing on his butt, sputtering. To Sofia's relief, both officers scrambled away, unharmed, behind the line of their colleagues.

  "What do you mean recorded?" Officer in Charge’s eyes had narrowed, his tone wary.

  "Sofia!" Richard's panicked voice yelled from her comm unit.

  Sofia swallowed hard. She might have tipped their hand too soon, but someone would've gotten hurt. "We have a live feed running to my attorney's office. Which now shows you firing on a work-release crew and a paying customer."

  Officer in Charge mulled this over. If he squints any harder, he might accidentally fall asleep. "I have to report this to management."

  "You do that. Goodbye, officers. Sorry about the, ah, drool there."

  The door closed on the shaken security force, though Sofia had no illusions about them going anywhere. They'd stay right outside the door and report from there.

  "Everyone all right?" she called out as she checked Moon over.

  Marta called out from the other side of the bay. "Popsicle's right side was grazed. One of Shadow's front feet, too. That's it."

  Sofia exchanged a look with Shara, who shook her head with a little smile. Of course the chionisaurs took precedence.

  "Sofia!"

  "Oops." She raced over to her comm set and plunked down beside it so Richard could see her. "We're okay, Richard. Promise. Everyone's all right."

  "Good. But that was too close." Richard clutched a stylus in his fist so tightly it had broken. "Screw their NDA to blazes and back. They need to feel this in their shareholders' pockets. We need to go public to keep you—all of you—safe. Do I have your permission to get this incident out to the media, feed included?"

  "Mine, yes. I guess we could blur out anyone who doesn't want to be shown?" Sofia turned to Shara. "Yes?"

  "Not like any of us being here's a big secret." Shara shrugged, spreading her hands to include the crew. "Convictions and work release are public record. Petey's the only one who might not want his face plastered on newscasts."

  Petey's gentle expression grew suddenly fierce. "I stand by my family and I won't hide."

  Sofia shot him a grateful smile. "Go for it, Richard. That's our official permission to use the feed."

  "Excellent. We'll have a press release together within the hour. Keep the feed running, just in case." Richard looked up from his system, where he was most likely summoning all his minions. "Don't take this the wrong way. But this is the most fun I've had in years."

  When he signed off, Tre let out a little snort. "That man has an odd idea of fun."

  "Attorney fun is different from most people's fun," Lanel pointed out. "I guess now we wait. And maybe move the bubbies back from the doors."

  "Richard Khoury's about to create a public media circus." Sofia opened her arms and let Marta snuggle into them, as much to calm her own shaking as Marta's. "I don't think we'll be waiting long."

  * * *

  The inter-system news ended some of the aforesaid waiting that afternoon. All of them crowded around Sofia's comm set to watch after Richard had sent a message advising them to. The pretty newsreader introduced the story as troubling developments at the Yule Planet Resort. The recording of their brief confrontation with security followed, played on repeat.

  "Some viewers may find this footage disturbing. What you're witnessing is YPC Security firing on an unarmed work-release crew. From what we've been able to gather, those large animals are native to the planet and partnered with the work crews. Our sources say the animals intervened when they believed their riders threatened. The officers in this footage were unharmed."

  The view zoomed in on Sofia.

  "We've identified this woman as Sofia Cancino, a guest of the resort. Her family states that they became concerned when they didn't hear from Ms. Cancino over several days. YPC responded to inquiries from the authorities by stating that it was against policy to disturb guest privacy. But we've since learned that Ms. Cancino's landing pod malfunctioned and crashed far off course in an unpopulated ice field."

  "They do like to exaggerate," Petey murmured. "It wasn't that far off course."

  "And it was a snow field," Tre whispered.

  "We've reached out to YPC for comment," the newsreader continued. "So far they have offered no official statement. Details are still coming in as we speak. We'll update you as we know more."

  The news program switched to an ongoing mineral-rights riot in the Proxima Centauri asteroid ring.

  Hecky tilted her head at the holo imager. "Won't this just make the suits mad?"

  "Sure. But now they have to be careful." A wolfish smile spread across Shara's face. "They're supposed to be a warm, family-friendly company. Anything happens to us, it'll be hard to explain away."

  "What will make them even madder is having their indigenous population fiction exposed." Marta absently stroked chionisaur noses as they shoved through the humans for attention. "Shara's got it, though. The galaxy's watching."

  "Until the next news cycle," Fiero grumbled.

  She cut her griping short when the newscast returned to Yule Planet with a view of the resort's on-planet hospitality center. The vid showed wall-to-wall people—impatient, angry people—then switched to a nearly identical view at pod registration on the orbiting station.

  "This newsroom is receiving viewer vids from on-site at the YPC resort." The newsreader's professional calm nearly crackled with smug enthusiasm. "Reports of the Cancino pod malfunction have reached arriving guests and those on-planet. Frightened resort-goers have crowded registration spaces either to get off-planet by emergency shuttle or cancel their pod launches from the station. We still have no official statement from YPC, but if you look closely at the footage, you will spot a small army of resort employees in green and red trying to calm the panic."

  "Not that you, dear newscaster, had anything to do with said panic," Lanel said at his driest.

  The news story droned on about famous historic disasters at other resorts, about the potential drop in share price for the corporation, about the number of people who visited the resort every year, and so on. The sudden crackle of an overhead intercom drew everyone's attention away from the news vids.

  Crew Six, you will prepare for immediate departure for cargo retrieval at Shuttle Base Five. I repeat, Crew Six, prepare for immediate cargo-run departure. Please respond.

  Hecky leaped up from her crate. "They can't do that! We just got here! We can't be up again yet!"

  "They can do whatever they want, kid," Shara grumbled as she shuffled over to the comm pad.

  "Shara, wait!" Sofia called out and held up a hand when Shara snarled at her. "Please. Richard's sending text. Just a second."

  Crew Six, please respond.

  Sofia scooped up her entire comm set and hurried over to Shara so she could read the message. For one heart-stopping moment, Shara's snarl became seriously threatening.

  "Are you trying to get us sent back to the colonies?"

  "No. Damn it, Shara, just read."

  To Sofia's relief, she did. The clouds of fury in her eyes cleared, replaced by shrewd consideration. Shara raised an eyebrow at her, straightened to face the comm, and m
anhandled Sofia over to where she could address the system while still reading Richard's words.

  "We refuse."

  There were several gasps behind her and a small crash as Hecky stumbled into the harness rack.

  Refusal will result in immediate deportation.

  "We have the right to refuse during contract negotiation."

  An audible sigh came over the intercom. You have nonnegotiable contracts. It's in the contracts.

  "Work-release contracts are negotiable in instances of unsafe conditions or unsound compensation models." Shara read verbatim from the screen now. "There's…" She hesitated over a word, then continued with triumphant swagger. "Precedent. Morris vs. Causalcorp. And Okafor vs. Consolidated Candy."

  I don't—

  "Well, you better check with your legal hounds, Mr. Voice of the Company. 'Cause there's briefs being filed right the hell now, and Mr. Khoury's on a call with the Interstellar Corrections Bureau."

  The intercom cut out abruptly.

  "What now?" Tre asked softly. "What if they send more security? Call in actual law enforcement?"

  "We stand our ground," Marta answered before anyone else could, the fierce light in her eyes making Sofia weak in the knees. "You all heard the newscast. They're portraying us as the unarmed victims. The corporation looks like the big mean bully right now. They can't afford to remove us by force with the galaxy watching."

  "They could still do it." Hecky rubbed at her arms, a gangly bundle of nervous tension. "Cut the feed. Shoot the bubbies. Take us out. Cover it all up."

  "Maybe before." Fiero wrapped an arm around her, squeezing until Hecky stood some version of still. "But now there'd be questions. They're supposed to be a friendly, jolly company. Can't have rumors about disappearing people. And no one's even tried to get at our feed yet."

  "What're you saying, Fi?"

  "That we got us some sympathizers up in comp control."

  "Huh."

  A sense of being at the center of a vortex surrounded them, a shuddering tension in a moment of calm. Huracán, Sofia's ancestors had called the whirling atmospheric storms and she had some sense now of what they meant by standing in the eye of one. No one seemed willing to move.

  "Game of Five Hop Draw?" Lanel asked, his soft voice echoing in the silence.

  Just like that, the spell broke and there were smiles and self-deprecating chuckles.

  "All right, but only if I'm dealing." Petey nodded as he pulled an old-fashioned plas deck from his coat.

  "Why's that?" Hecky looked up from pulling over a crate for a card table.

  "Because the rest of you cheat."

  Chapter Seven

  The next day and a half went by in relative quiet. Newscasts ran every hour or so updating the "YPC situation," with little from the company beyond canned statements saying there would be an official statement soon. Sofia could only imagine that legal documents were flying fast and furious between Richard's office and YPC headquarters, especially now that he'd pulled in government oversight.

  They passed the time with—according to the crew—activities normal in tunnel downtime: caring for the bubbies, equipment repair, napping, and occasionally sneaking off for sex. The last one Sofia avoided, since it was hardly sneaking. Everyone knew who was missing and what was going on behind the one closed bunk door. Marta agreed that it was both hilarious and not for her, though they did share one of the inadequately-sized-for-it bunks at night for sleeping, while Tre swapped between Petey and Lanel, since the two males of the triad were too large to share, and three to a bunk was out of the question.

  Afternoon was well underway, quiet except for the grunts and soft complaints of chionisaurs anxious to be outside. When the doors snicked and hissed open, everyone leaped to their feet. Sofia prepared to dive for cover and take Marta with her, but there was only one person in the doorway and he certainly wasn't Security. Instead he was dressed like the work crew, a cadaverous, mournful-visaged figure comfortable enough with the chionisaurs to pat Popsicle's nose on the way in.

  "Stefan?" Shara stepped forward to greet him, her stance wide and wary.

  "Shara." He shook his head, something like amusement lighting those sad eyes. "I guess your lot's been causing a ruckus. We've all been ordered here for a meeting."

  "All?"

  "The crew leads." Stefan stretched, cracking several vertebrate. "Don't think all of us would fit in here."

  "Any idea what it's about?" Marta called from where she'd been brushing Snowglider's back.

  "Not a hint."

  The crew leads trickled in after that, Sofia keeping careful track of who was hostile, just in case things got physical. They certainly were a varied group, from Aliyah, tall and reserved, to Max, tiny and fierce, who muttered about reprisals if Shara had gotten their contracts nullified.

  Shara's crew drew up closer, an instinctive pack reaction, and Sofia's head swiveled between one group and the other, worried that a fistfight might break out, when her comm pinged. Richard.

  I'm on my way down to you, the text read.

  You're on planet?

  Took the express. Sometimes it's better to be a physical presence in the room. Harder to ignore that way. I'll be there in a moment, but so will the YPC contingent. Sofia, all of those things you laid out for me, now's the time to have them on the tip of your brain.

  Stunned, Sofia could only text back, Okay. She glanced up and caught Shara's eye. "Um, Richard's coming down."

  "He's here?"

  Marta only nodded. "He must have insisted on a meeting. If they're seriously talking about renegotiating, it makes sense to have the crew leads here."

  YPC minions reached them first, hesitating in the doorway with…furniture. Shara barked at the bubbies to clear a space and the minions trooped in to arrange a huge conference table with doc screens, chairs, and fancy water pitchers with matching glasses. The minions trooped out. The crew leads stared at each other in confusion.

  "Shara," Aliyah's throaty voice carried in the sudden silence. "Explain. Now."

  "Seems old Y-Corp's been screwing us over." Shara nodded at Sofia. "Ms. Cancino's lawyer's been looking into it. He's one of those high-powered business-law attorneys. He says some of the stuff in our contract's not even legal."

  Stefan cocked his head like some giant wading bird. "But we're on work release. The contract's whatever they want."

  "Exactly what they would have liked you to believe." That familiar bass—Richard was here. "Richard Khoury, gentlefolk. Ms. Cancino has retained my services to represent you. The truth is, Yule Planetary has managed, either through influencing key players or through holes in the process, to sidestep government oversight of your contracts. An entire bureau should have been looking out for your interests. But that's a battle for another day."

  He completely ignored the open mouths and the more suspicious expressions as he made the circuit of the room, shaking hands. His command of the room was so complete, Sofia missed the person still standing by the doors until Richard turned to them.

  "And this is Mx. Hue, the agent assigned to your case from Interstellar Correctional Bureau Oversight Division."

  The agent offered a courteous nod, but there wasn't time for more, as the lawyers and managers from the resort arrived in a tightly packed mob. Just as the furniture minions had, they hesitated at the door, looking over the positioning of the chionisaurs before proceeding inside with proverbial noses in the air.

  The suit in the lead turned right to Sofia, ignoring everyone else in the room. "It's time to stop all this nonsense, Ms. Cancino. We've been more than fair in our offers of compensation for your inconvenience. If you persist in disrupting the normal workings of this resort and the lives of everyone involved, we will be forced to call the authorities to have you removed."

  Right to bully mode. "You do know the feed's still running, right?" Sofia stepped out from the safety of her friends, using her strident voice to its best advantage. "And how dare you. Inconvenience? It's dumb luck t
hat you didn't kill me. No, I’m not backing down, and no, I'm not going away, because this is about a hell of a lot more than me now."

  The IC agent stepped between them, offering a hand to the lead suit. "Jesse Hue, from Interstellar Correctional. I don't believe we've met." The tone said in no uncertain terms, I am the authorities.

  To his credit, the executive or manager or whoever he was smoothed a mask of diplomacy over his shock before the handshake ended. The round of introductions began, people sorted themselves around the table, and Richard pulled Sofia aside before joining them.

  "Deep breath. Dial it back now, right?" He patted her arm. "Let me get things started, then you can show them how we're here to work with them instead of against them."

  Sofia nodded and eeped at a hard nudge against her back. Moon was trying to accompany her to the table. Shooing her away didn't work at all, but Sofia did manage to get her to lie down so she wasn't looming. Chionisaur as intimidation factor could at least keep the corporate types off-balance.

  Mx. Hue opened proceedings with a list of regulations YPC was currently breaking or skirting the break point, including improper use of compensatory funding. They made it clear that lack of oversight was the Bureau's fault, no matter how the program had arrived at that point, and that the goal of their visit was assessment and correction rather than punitive proceedings.

  The legalese flew fast and furious after that as the attorneys at the table went over Richard's filings and possible counter-filings. It all sounded like a pissing contest to Sofia, and most of the crew leads looked either bored or annoyed. They weren't stupid or uneducated people. Grifters, forgers, thieves of either physical items, monetary streams, or corporate secrets—all of them had needed sharp skills and quick wits in their previous lives. But this was all shots firing far over their heads—nothing to do with them.

  At one point, Richard held up a hand. "Unless your goal is to dismantle the work-release program you have here, which would leave a gaping hole in your ability to offer the best possible guest experience, I believe we should be focusing on how your program can be improved in keeping with correctional regulations without a serious negative impact to your bottom line." He gave Sofia a little palm-up wave in invitation.