by Kate Kyle
Jax let them enter. She watched the group: one definitely human, who introduced himself as Fred Rosa, and three probable droids, all dressed in the company uniforms of metallic green with a silvery-gray, shimmering Si-Carb logo on the back and front of the jackets.
Fred Rosa, who seemed to have the role of the team leader, wore a pair of pants and a jacket. The droids' uniforms were likely plastic outer layers, just pretending to look like human clothes.
Jax tried hard not to stare at the droids, but since they were banned in PanAm, she had only seen them in video reports from other parts of the world where robots were allowed to have humanoid shape.
Once they were gone, Rutger disappeared, too. He did it very cleverly, seemingly helping the retrieval team with their tasks. He must have sneaked right behind them and then hung around the ship for a few minutes. As soon as the droids' green uniforms disappeared from the main screen, likely behind the docking gate, Jax realized she couldn't see Rutger either. The dot marking him had also disappeared from the screen. But maybe that was because he removed the skinsuit, which was probably where the tags were embedded.
A thought of looking for him on the ship crossed her mind. After all, she was responsible for delivering the entire cargo and would only be paid in that event. But since he had announced his intentions very clearly, it seemed pointless.
Plus, she had her own stuff to sort out. Actually, she had to take care of her own requirements first. She needed to book herself an appointment at the clinic.
In the previous few days, she'd rehearsed the task, and didn't foresee a problem.
Jax sat at the console, ready to ask the Port Tower to connect her with the department of Life Preservation at the Si-Carb clinic.
A moment later, she was talking with the clinic booking bot, organizing a consult-with-the-procedure-if-applicable slot for later that afternoon. And the clinic even accepted the payment in installments: half at the time of the procedure, and the other half within seventy-two hours, which should be enough time for Jax to be paid for the first part of her task, just as she negotiated.
As it was just about 10 am local time, it gave her enough time to complete all the cargo delivery procedures, refresh, and maybe even see some of the city, touted as 'the beginning of a new Roman Republic'.
The retrieval team would be back to collect the remaining patients in about an hour, so she had some time.
She stretched and headed for her cabin. The station had almost the same gravity as Earth, 0.9 G, created by the spin, so her body felt lighter, particularly after the journey. Her steps echoed in the hallway, now suddenly almost quiet with only the ventilating and recycling systems active.
When she walked into her cabin, the light came on automatically. There was still a subtle whiff of a foreign smell in the air.
She headed for her tiny built-in-closet bathroom to refresh herself. She was used to not showering every day, but not showering for seven was a new high. Or maybe she should consider it a new low!
Once in the shower, she turned the hot water full-on. She no longer had to save the precious fluid. Well, she actually had saved some by not using the shower through half of her journey. Her shoulders ached, her back was stiff from so much uncomfortable napping and from the extended tension.
She let the water flow, steaming up the tiny tube. Her muscles relaxed. Her feet were finally warm.
Life was finally getting a bit brighter for Jax McCarthy.
She had to make sure she had everything ready. Her money, together with her medical history, which was all she needed for the appointment were all on her personal tablet. The handheld device she'd left on the counter in her cabin.
She switched off the water and activated the hot air dryer.
A moment later, she stepped out of her bathroom-in-the-closet and back to her cabin.
She marched straight to the docking stand, where she remembered leaving the tablet but… it wasn't there.
Her heart skipped. Jax scanned the rest of the counter.
Empty.
She crouched and searched the floor, which was covered in dark carpet, but there was enough light to see that the device was not there.
Her throat tightened.
Jax leaped to the pod. She rummaged through the bedding, tapping the foam serving as a mattress, checking all the crevices. With her fingers poking every hole she hunted through all the drawers and cabinets in the pod, even those too small for the tablet to fit in.
Nothing.
Crap. Crap. Crap!
She wiped the bead of cold sweat that had formed on her temple and started to wind its way down her cheek.
Did she take the tablet with her to the flight deck?
Actually, the device was slaved to the ship, so a simple check in the ship's system should reveal when the device last reported in.
She ran back to the cockpit. Her fingers shook as she tapped in the commands.
A glance at the clock in the corner displaying the time confirmed that the device had been aboard, in the vicinity of her cabin, at least until shortly before the arrival of the retrieval team.
Who had taken it?
Lulu Zhou or Rutger?
Or maybe the retrieval team?
No, Jax watched had the retrieval operation from her cabin door. Neither the android paramedics, nor their human boss had touched anything but the pod and the woman.
Lulu?
The New China's insect specialist had been strapped to bed all the time, except for the moments when Jax came with food and water and waited until the woman ate, drank and used the bathroom to empty the skinsuit's body fluid containers.
Speaking of bathroom breaks… Why did Rutger need to go to the bathroom and then be so keen to get out?
Crap.
She'd trusted him.
Her heart broke into a gallop.
How come? Her instinct had never failed her. Maybe except for Hunter, but she was always prepared to walk away from him. And this was a different matter - her device contained everything she had.
Jax placed her hands palms up on the console.
Think, Jax… think again…
Rutger couldn't have entered her cabin. The lock would have alerted her at any attempt to open it by any means other than her personal key-code.
All devices slaved to the ship beeped the system every fifteen minutes. Jax glanced at the list of beeps again. And then called up the activity monitor to check the timings of the airlock being opened and closed.
Hm…
It looked as though the last connection between her tablet and the ship happened two minutes before the arrival of the team. The operation lasted about ten minutes, but the device didn't ping the ship afterwards.
Rutger walked out of the ship more or less at the same time as the retrieval team but hung around the docking bay for at least five minutes longer. If he had the tablet, the ship's system would have picked up the most recent ping. And that was assuming that Rutger would have managed to break into the cabin to pinch the tablet in the first place.
So, it must have been Lulu. The woman had given Jax a bad feeling from the very beginning.
The freaking insect woman had the guts to steal her tablet, that was sure. And given how quickly she'd recovered from the disrupted stasis, Jax wouldn't be surprised if Lulu had uncoupled the harness and recoupled it again afterwards. Actually, now that she was thinking about it, the best moment for that would have been just before the arrival of the retrieval team. It was the only point when someone other than Jax had released the harness.
Clever.
Jax pressed her lips so hard, they went numb.
All her medical records, pilot credentials, AdAstra gaming gear, not to count the money she had collected to pay for the procedure were gone.
She had to find Lulu Zhou.
8
Rutger
Rutger watched the retrieval team march in a synchronized fashion to the vehicle parked just outside the docking bay's gate. The silvery g
ray letters of their logo on their uniforms glimmered in the dimmed lights. Droids. With four of them carrying the stretcher, they looked like a giant spider with a big, low hanging saddle in the middle.
Once they were out, he emerged from behind one of the docking poles. The ship, TransNeptunian Sleeper Service was dark and quiet behind him. To the front spread out a massive hangar, empty, cold and badly lit. The last fact actually worked in his favor. Not that he really wanted to hide, but he'd rather the screens didn't recognize him.
He was free to go now, but his original plan had been thwarted. Or maybe not so much thwarted as changed. Yeah. Sooner or later, he had to go to Si-Carb clinic, but since he was awake and with his full mental and physical faculties, he could do some digging and sniffing before he headed there.
Actually, he should do some digging and sniffing around.
He found a self-driving electric minicar parked by the gate and programmed it to take him to the nearest monorail station, where he should be able to find a public Net terminal.
He saw the unit as soon as the vehicle slowed to a stop at the station gate.
Thank goodness self-driving vehicles in public spaces didn't require the passenger to identify themselves in any way. There was also no payment. Rebels' Republic governors believed that once in the Republic, everyone had the right to be here and hence the right to use public facilities. Even as a visitor.
Rutger stepped out of the vehicle and approached the terminal.
Yep, the terminal, too, didn't require any identification or payment. It was no wonder Rebels only used money in exchanges with foreign entities and individuals.
Rutger's fingers hovered above the touch screen. He didn't want to use the voice search option. He didn't have the gear to subvocalize and definitely didn't want to say what he had in mind aloud in case anyone was listening.
His head hummed with questions, but most couldn't be asked. Not yet.
So, he started with an easy one and typed in, Lulu Zhou.
The screen blinked and asked if he wanted results from RR only, or the entire Solar System.
Of course, he wanted the entire system.
A few blinks later, a short list of citations appeared. He toggled the order to open the newest ones first and scan the results.
The top headline flashed: 'Key Chinese-African entomologist disappears from main research site ahead of locust season.'
"Hot off the press," he mumbled and tapped on the result.
It seemed that Professor Zhou went missing from an AACP research site in Ethiopia sometime in April, a couple of months earlier. Apparently, she told her colleagues that she was returning to her hometown, in New China for urgent personal reasons. But she failed to return in time for her next field expedition and the study had to be stopped as no one else had suitable experience. The concerned colleagues informed the New China University for Animal Studies, which ran the site and employed the missing professor and her team, but their concerns were dismissed. One of the team members, even got hold of Lulu Zhou's cousin who was surprised by the disappearance and the story regarding a family emergency. The family, the cousin insisted, hadn't seen Lulu for a couple of years. Prof Zhou was a single mother of a young adult son, who lived with her intermittently. Apparently, the son had not been seen for months.
The absence of Ms. Zhou's unnamed son was much less of a surprise since he had the habit of disappearing for months at a time.
The news article was a week old. It must have come in a low importance burst, if it was still considered new.
Rutger checked the source. No surprise. A small, independent Europe-based agency, known for pursuing unusual angles of stories in selected niches, in the hope of hitting it big one day. A suspicious gas leak in a regional factory, a data breach in a lower-level public institution or a missing unknown scientist were exactly what they would target, investigate fairly well, and report the outcome, whatever it was.
Rutger read the article. There was no conclusion, and no call to get in touch for readers who might know the missing person's whereabouts. Strange. Was this an attempt to avoid openly criticizing the entities involved?
Likely so, given the circumstances.
Was the New China University involved in the professor's disappearance?
Probably, if the said disappearance didn't result in the missing person turning up in Rebels' Republic as a Si-Carb priority patient.
He glanced at the photo enclosed with the article: the same petite, fragile frame, the same big eyes, but set in an older-looking face fringed with sleek, black hair cut a little shorter than the current do. No doubt, Professor Zhou had a rejuvenating procedure sometime between the taking of the photo and embarking on the journey to Segedunum.
But even if Lulu Zhou's implants were faulty, getting the AACP to agree to travel to the country, whose existence they refused to accept for much longer than any other Earthian entity, was probably as difficult as getting the Rebels to accept such a foreign visitor. It stank of a political game, or of a clandestine exchange of whatever resources were at play.
But why was an Africa-based entomologist so precious to the New China Empire? And why on a colony in Transneptunian space? Were Rebels going to introduce insects into their stations?
It sounded likely, except that locusts were definitely not the type of insect anyone wanted to introduce into your scarce food-producing habitat.
Strange.
Even though he had two other important issues to investigate, Rutger's curiosity pushed him to change his schedule.
He logged into News-Tok exchange network—an informal network of journalists and reporters. Given the mainstream media's obsessions with 'stories' and 'people's interests', it often paid to check the good old grapevine for facts and real news.
The site seemed busier than usual, with hundreds of complaints about what sounded like PSSNet outages. Rutger was too absorbed in his own issues to even read about it.
He scanned the list of contacts, surprised to see a former colleague's name lit up. He never realized Ed Weber was in Segedunum.
He tapped on the old pal's name and a private chat channel opened up.
"Hey, Ed, long time no see," Rutger typed.
"What a surprise," Ed replied. "What are you doing here? Segedunum is a long way away from your usual stomping grounds."
"Let's say I'm on an assignment," Rutger admitted reluctantly.
"Relax.
Rutger punched in a laughing icon, but quietly admitted that it was good to hear it from someone he knew and trusted.
With the niceties out of the way, it was time for the real stuff.
"Can we talk? Got a question," Rutger typed.
"Happy to help. But talking may be problematic. The network is very glitchy today. If you type and I'm kicked out, the message will be stored for a while, and I may be able to read it when I log back in. Fire away."
"In person?"
A few seconds' hesitation.
"Where are you?"
Rutger glanced at the electronic board to his left.
"Airport Docks. Got the train coming in two minutes. Going spinward."
"Get off at Central Square. There's a cafe just out of the gate. It'll take me about the same time to get there."
Rutger logged out rushed to the platform.
The train arrived – a line of three sleek, transparent capsules looking like beads of dew on a spider's thread. The door opened smoothly, and Rutger stepped into the only completely empty capsule. He checked the route. With only two stops to Central Square, he saw no point in sitting on any of the comfortable looking, transparent seats.
The train reached the Central Square stop a few minutes later. Rutger stepped out and stood on the platform for a while, taking in the view. He'd seen the images of the Segedunum Station and its Central Square before, so he wasn't completely surprised.
Still, the view was
unusual for a high-density New Randstad dweller, like Rutger. Ahead and around him stretched a long, low building supported by an aisle of slender columns on one side of the street and a row of tribune benches on the other. Raised flower beds and potted orange trees lay dotted everywhere. Clearly, Segedunum had not reached the peak of its population capacity. Although the station housed some five thousand inhabitants, there was still room for greenery and enough spare capacity to house a few people sitting on the benches, chatting or consuming media on their personal devices.
However crazy the idea of going back to the culture of Ancient Rome or Roman Republic seemed, it certainly looked interesting, maybe even beautiful, if not a bit off the wall, and definitely nothing like a standard space station. What was the point of setting it all up like this? The geeks who, just like his ex-wife, had flocked from all corners of Earth to live and work in the Republic, would be certainly happy living in simple containers, with all but basic facilities. Yet, the Rebels' Republic founding fathers had a vision of returning to the achievements of Romans not only in science, but also in culture, architecture and urban planning, and building on them.
All their lofty ideals became possible because money and power could buy anything, including the brightest minds and freedom. And the more of those you had, the more you could attract.
"Hey, Rutger," a voice cut through his thoughts.
He froze.
Shit, he had forgotten to tell Ed not to use his name.
But did it still matter, since he was already at the destination and outside Earth's jurisdiction?
Rutger pivoted in the direction of the voice. One of the people sitting on the tribune benches climbed to his feet and started walking toward him.
In case someone was watching and listening, Rutger remained in his spot, his hands shoved into the pockets of his combat pants.
Fortunately, Ed was experienced enough to get the silent message. His eyes stayed right on Rutger's face, but he said nothing until his tall, broad-chested frame was two steps away.
"It's you, isn't it?" Ed asked. "Maybe we should have agreed a code word?"
The shadow of a smile creased his old colleague's pale face, but his voice was serious and quiet.