Angeleyes - eARC

by Michael Z. Williamson

  It’s not all that bad. But there’s a lot of them, they’re paid cash, and tracking them would be almost impossible. Some of them couldn’t even read and wouldn’t be anywhere near polite company for weeks. Some were sex slaves. Those poor people would actually benefit from this.

  I’d get screwed, and not the fun way.

  I had spendable funds in discreet cards, and I could tap my account here with a day’s notice, but I’d rather not. So I needed a place to stay.

  I had a couple of friends I could call, if they were still here. I wondered if it was safe to call, or if I should just show up in person. No one knew who I was, or even that I was here really. I hadn’t reached customs. I didn’t know how far they’d gone on surveying the resident population, or whatever it’s called.

  I called, voice only.

  “This is Lee,” he said as he answered. Lee runs a small repair shop that stays busy making components for trampers and station businesses. His wife programs nav systems and sometimes has to go aboard to tune and zero them. And that’s as much as I know about astrogation.

  “Lee, it’s Angie. I’m insystem.”

  “Oh, hi! How are you?”

  “Broke, I’m afraid. Can you put me up for a night or two? I don’t mind sharing.” I really didn’t. He was quite good.

  “Damn, you always call when my wife is outsystem,” he said. “When am I going to get you both together?”

  “When does she get back?” I’d met her twice for a div or so. She was okay, he was hot, I wanted to try the combination, but we all had to coincide for that to happen.

  He said, “At this point, who knows?” So it still wasn’t happening.

  I turned it back to business. “Yeah. Well, got room?”

  “Sure, come on over.”

  I had no trouble finding his place, and didn’t see any UN goons. I guess they were at the docks and critical facilities.

  I knocked, the door slid open, and he gave me an inquiring look. I stepped forward and planted a kiss on him, and let him have it as long as he wanted. Damn, he’s got good breath control. Strong hands, too.

  “Good to see you!” I said with a smile. I knew where this was going.

  “And you,” he said. “Just arrived?”

  “By a roundabout way from Caledonia.” He pointed to the couch and I sprawled. He took his lazy chair and tapped for drinks. Ginger lime ice showed up. I needed that.

  “Yeah, it’s not a good time here,” he said.

  “Oh? Fill me in.” Yes, hydration, and maybe food. I finished the glass and he sent another.

  “Well, you got tagged by the Aardvarks, right?” he asked.

  “Aardvarks?”

  “Earth pigs.”

  “Oh, that, yes,” I lied. I trusted him but he didn’t need to know. How fast had that nickname come up?

  “Yeah, they’ve got a fight on the surface. It’s bad. But we don’t have a lot of choice here if we don’t want to breathe vacuum.”

  That was what I expected, but not what I needed to hear. “Crap. Should I cadge a flight back out?”

  “You might wanna,” he said.

  I made note, and shrugged. “Well, for now I have enough for food, not lodging.”

  “You’re fine here,” he said. “No worries.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate it,” I said. “So . . . wanna fill me in?”

  “However you like,” he said, grinning and grabbing for me.

  We went straight to the shower. I guess I have a fetish for hot running water, hot male, and sex toys. I was limp against the wall in a minute, feeling delicious sensations inside and out while getting clean. His shower has a setting to blow air near your face to keep it dry, while misting the rest of you all over and draining down.

  I suppose someday I’ll find an actual family, but I’m too much a hedonist. And flaky. As long as I have a roof and few creds, I don’t need more, really.

  We got out and he made me some tuna and rice for dinner. He had chicken, and didn’t mix the dishes. It was good stuff. He knows to use enough spice without killing the flavor.

  Afterward, I tapped into his access and got the news.

  Yeah, it wasn’t good here at home. But, it looked as if I could find a sleep cheap in the day labor area. If I could book back out to Caledonia, I’d be fine. I was even considering NovRos. It’s harder to work there without connections, and the connection they’d want from me could involve things I do for pleasure that I don’t want to do for work. But I might have to.

  Here was fine for a couple of nights, but I needed to work or move, money or distance.

  I did more looking, but I was going to have to do footwork to get anything. In the morning, I went out and took a back, service route down to the levels where most of the transients hung out.

  I wasn’t interested in the grunt labor they were paying a few creds a div for. I wasn’t qualified for any of the really technical stuff. I didn’t want to cook in the one place that was hiring. I know ground rat meat when I smell it, and cat never tastes or smells like chicken. My options were limited.

  I made it back to Lee’s place in time for dinner.

  “No luck yet,” I said. “I’m definitely going to try to fly back out.”

  “I don’t know what’s going to happen,” he said. “There’s almost no news from groundside, but there’s a lot of ships coming in, and not many going out. We may have declared independence too soon.”

  “I don’t know the politics,” I said. “Caledonia, NovRos and Meiji haven’t had problems.”

  “We have a lot more resources and national capital,” he said. “GDP high enough to embarrass them, and increasing mobility and transportation infrastructure. We’re not beholden.”

  “I know it’s always easier to get ships here,” I said. “Or it was.”

  “Exactly.”

  I appreciated his hospitality. That evening I painted my lips up and gave him the best mouthjob I could. I love the texture of skin against my lips. And he was warm to snuggle with. I can’t have pets with my lifestyle. I miss snuggling.

  CHAPTER 4

  The next morning I decided to risk the better areas. It was entirely possible I could talk my way into a position and not have to be scanned. I was getting the impression no one was cooperating if they didn’t have to, and unless they had detailed employee records, who would know? The big corps would be doing that. The private businesses, not so much. The Freehold of Grainne is an entire system of small businesses.

  I followed Lee to his shop. There are several of those, metal and plastic suppliers, food provisioners of hydroponics and ground-based products. The usual luxury goods. I’m not bad at sales, actually. I could work for a hotelier directly. There are stowage companies.

  I was hindered by being physical, not intellectual. Groundside or in the inner Halo, I’d actually consider stripping or sex work. It would be safe and clean, and you get paid depending on the clientele you choose. Here, there wasn’t much. The ones catering to the hotels were a closed shop and very expensive. The good ones dockside were a closed shop, and I knew several of them. One of them taught me my eye-crossing tongue action. I wouldn’t cut into their work even if I could, and theirs was down. That left the cheap ones. There was no advantage and I wasn’t interested. I was better off just fucking Lee and lodging with him honestly. I wasn’t obligated, either.

  Luxury retail wasn’t hiring, and leather was effectively shut down with UN regs on animal products. Govannon didn’t have that problem. They grew their own insystem, and the Prescots have more money than most of the nations on Earth. No one dared screw with them. They’d once bought someone out to the point where he starved to death. They paid for every departing ship, every cargo, every supply, and left him in his flat with nothing. He had it coming, but that was a lesson that was remembered fifty years later.

  We’re a rich system, but not that rich, and we had occupying troops.

  I didn’t want to panic. I could stay with Lee. I might even get t
o meet his wife at last. Intimately, I mean. We all agreed it was an idea, but we hadn’t got there.

  But if I stayed here, I wasn’t leaving again for a while. I’d passed through Sol system twice. They have those tags, and so many rules, regulations and bureaus you can’t actually do anything. I’d had to petition for exemptions from their rules, and could only fly on Freehold flagged ships. That’s when I’d started paperwork for Caledonia. Sol had fixed wages that made it hard to find cheap transport. I’d been there months the first time, and got out by bribery the second time. It took half my savings and a fine piece of East Sea spectrashell.

  I was running out of options.

  Well, there were service jobs, and those did pay. Not many. The really rich had private nurses, the poor made do with automated monitors and on-call response. In between, there was one hospice. There was child care for any number of transients and locals, but the locals often found ados to watch the small kids.

  I was actually thinking of that as I passed a daycare not far from the docs.

  I sat down and ate lunch, and watched the passersby. They were few.

  Overhead, I could see the tramway looping around the far side. A planetoid inflated like a bubble looked cruder than a station built from polyfiber and steel, but it worked just as well. I had two kilometers of diameter by ten kilometers length to use to hide, and I knew a lot of alleys and crawlways, if only I had money.

  Right then the lights went out.

  There were screams of panic.

  The lights came back on, on the emergency circuit, at about 40% brightness.

  Then there was a loud crack and a slam of air, and pressure dropped. Only a little, but in a habitat that makes people panic, and should. Alarms started wailing. Three warbles and a steady. Pressure malfunction.

  I couldn’t remember if Lee had emergency O2 at his apartment. I knew his shop was at Radius 73, but that was a long way from here.

  It wasn’t obvious, but I felt the temperature dropping, too. That leak was still going.

  Would someone actually sabotage the station? There were thousands of people here. But if they thought that would stop the UN, they might, if they didn’t care about us. Ground dwellers might.

  We needed the station too, and it wouldn’t stop arrivals. They’d set up some emergency control from a command ship.

  I had no local paid for shelter or oxy, so I needed to find a ship, even if it meant getting tagged by the UN.

  Then I wondered if that was it. It would take a long time to depressurize the entire station. If they could cause panic, everyone would rush for the docks and could be tagged.

  Or was it our side doing it just to create panic so we’d swarm them?

  I had no way to know. I did know I needed to reach a ship. They probably didn’t have room for everyone. I wanted to get aboard early.

  The train was working, but was packed like a cargotainer and had people hanging on the outside who were going to get smashed off through the terminal tunnels. This was getting bad fast.

  I hoofed it. I had my backpack. My other bag was at Lee’s, but I trusted him with it. It was mostly more clothes and boots. This had my work clothes, cash, ID and a couple of personal items and tools.

  I got to a fair jog, but I was never a good runner even in service, and spacers don’t run. We get flexible and strong, but not fast.

  Then I started hearing PA announcements. They were fuzzy and hard to hear, but it sounded important, and people started to flip.

  Then my phone alerted. A trembling female spoke.

  “Station integrity compromised. All occupants should seek immediate shelter in place, or go to the dock level for rescue. Station integrity is compromised . . .”

  It repeated, and she was live, not recorded. That was bad.

  I was definitely better on foot than train. I was running across the panic, as people ran from shops and offices to the train, shoving in front and behind me. I elbowed one asshole who tried to push me with him, and had to slap another who thought he was helping me.

  I was panting very quickly. I thought about dumping the bag, but without it, I had no clothes or gear. I wanted my lock pin in hand to bash people with, but I’d have to stop and open the pack to get it.

  I just kept shoving and jogging.

  I took ramp after ramp, following the signs for each level. I wasn’t spiraling, but I was doglegging. At least G was dropping as I got closer to the axis. That meant the mass felt lighter, but it also meant I felt more inertia. I had to dig in, lean back and shove to slow myself before direction changes. The dim light didn’t help.

  It was definitely chill, and the air felt thinner, more like NovRos than Freehold. That meant the leak was huge. I couldn’t really guess, I didn’t have the geometry memorized. I worked it out afterward and figured the hole was several meters across and it had to be in the main pressure or it would have been sealed already. Spacewatch should have caught any debris, and there shouldn’t be many rocks moving anywhere fast enough. So it was attack or sabotage, by all my thinking.

  Then I was at the axis level and the mass of people suddenly enveloped me.

  At the gate to the docks, the guards were overwhelmed. Hundreds of people were shoving past them, batting their batons away. If pressure dropped, you went anywhere that could hold it, fast. That was a few facilities, and any ship.

  Ahead of me, the crowd shifted to the right. I came to what looked like an edge, and found myself facing a bunch of caretakers with kids.

  The adults were trying to keep scared kids corralled while scared adults shoved past them.

  This really wasn’t good. I wondered if the ships would run out of space soon and have to button up. There are gas dealers with oxy, and a number of short duration emergency bottles at any dock, then some machine shops have gas. They couldn’t handle everyone, though.

  The guards had apparently given up trying to tag anyone. They were being swarmed. One was missing his helmet and had a bloody nose. Another was welting up around his cheek and forehead. I guess people didn’t like being told they had to wait for permission to breathe.

  I hoisted my pack onto my shoulder and scrambled through the crowd, then through the turngate. My strap caught on a gate rod and I had to twist around as three people went under my arms.

  “Move it, slunt,” some guy said and jabbed me hard with his elbow.

  I said, “Fuck off, dickless,” and kept pulling the strap.

  Then someone else shoved through and it tangled even worse and jammed the gate. I managed to reach the strap lock, pop it, and pulled the strap through. I’d have to get replacement hardware out when I had a chance.

  I slung the bag over one shoulder and shoved through.

  Then I bumped something and came to a complete stop.

  It was a little girl, maybe from that crowd of them. She was tall enough to bump my hip.

  I didn’t want her getting trampled, so I scooped her up in my left arm and carried her.

  “You’re in the way, Sweetie, we don’t want you to get hurt.”

  I shouted, “Does anyone belong to this child?”

  Several people looked, but none answered.

  She had a bag in her hand, and I realized there was a leash dragging behind her. I managed to flip that up and catch it, then shoved it through the bag handles while using my elbows to stop people from crushing us.

  I didn’t want to abandon a kid, and I did want to help get her safe. There’s positives and negatives to having a kid with you. You get a certain amount of leeway, but you can’t leave them and run. They also stand out some places.

  Only, I wasn’t heading for a ship. I was planning to find a station safe cell and shelter there, with crew and labor. They wouldn’t turn me away with a kid, no. But she’d make me distinctive.

  And she was screaming.

  “Hey, hey! It’s okay!” I said. It was a rhyme. I went with it. “Can you clap your hands?”

  This was bad. The only training I had for child ca
re was watching friends and memories of growing up. I was faking it as I went.

  Then I saw a skirmish line of UN police moving toward us. That’s why the crowd was so thick. The goons were still trying to scan their fucking IDs while we were trying to get air to breathe.

  I didn’t have one, and didn’t want to be questioned about why not.

  I saw a restroom and pushed sideways and backwards, like I was swimming across a river current, which I hadn’t done in ten years.

  Once there, it got easy. No one was stopping to pee. But the girl was hopping around and ran straight for a stall.

  Then I heard shouting outside and ran in with her.

  I heard the door open and a rough female voice shouted, “Who’s in here? You better have an ident when you come out. Anyone? Last call.”

  Then the noise faded as the door closed.

  Well, shit.

  The girl looked scared at all the yelling.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Let’s wash our hands, okay?” I wasn’t sure that was safe, but I wanted to keep her quiet and be a responsible adult. The delay was safer than the screaming.

  She nodded and followed me, pulling at her pants as she came.

  I helped her clean up and wash her hands, and she said, “Tank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said.

  “Where’s Mom?” she asked.

  Any question but that, please, kid. “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “I’m Juwetta,” she replied, grinning broadly.

  “I’m Angie,” I told her. “How old are you?”

  “Where’s Mom?” she asked.

  Sigh. “Mom’s not here.”

  “Find her,” Juliet, or Juletta, or whatever her name was said. She strode determinedly toward the door.

  “Wait here,” I said, and held her arm.

  That was a mistake. She turned and grabbed me, and yelled, “YOU STOP DAT!”