Angeleyes - eARC

by Michael Z. Williamson

  I let go quickly, but dropped down to one knee to negotiate. She had to be quiet. There were still troops pouring through the station, and they’d drag us off. Whether or not they were taking prisoners, keeping them together, or doing anything besides shooting them or stuffing them out the airlocks, I didn’t know. But I wasn’t going to be found. I also knew I couldn’t leave this kid alone. This was worse than a stray kitten.

  “Listen,” I said, “Mom had to go away, but we can find her, okay?”

  “Yes!” she said brightly, with a big grin.

  “Okay, but we need to go quietly, okay? There’s bad people out there.”

  “Scaiwy people?” she asked.

  “Yes, scary people. Can you be very quiet?”

  “Okay,” she agreed, and reached for my hand. It was a start.

  I just hoped she was as reasonable if Mom never showed up. I had no idea if she’d been in day care, with a family, or what.

  “You call me Angie, okay?” I said.

  “Anzhee,” she replied.

  “Yes. How old are you, Juletta?” I asked again.

  But she wasn’t old enough to tell me. Less than three local years I was sure, even as tall as she was. Older than two almost certainly.

  If I remembered right, there should be a rear access for cleaning. They didn’t like dragging carts or bots through the public passages even at night. I led Juletta back to the blocked staff door, then reached into my pack for my lock pin.

  I stuck the point into the door, right above the latch, and threw my mass against it. Even in low G, it caused the sheet polymer to bend and deform. Then I put feet against the sink shelf and pushed. The latch pulled free and the door swung.

  I closed it behind us, even though it was obviously wrecked. Juletta stared at me with large eyes.

  “It’s okay,” I said. “We have to get around the crowd.”

  “You broke it.”

  “I’ll pay for it later,” I told her.

  “Okay.”

  Access to the rear passage was easier. I opened the door, and it blew wider, with a warmer, brisk breeze coming through. I realized I could probably trace down the puncture, if I wanted to. I didn’t want to. I wanted to get to secure pressure.

  I didn’t see anyone at first, so I grabbed the girl’s hand gently and guided her toward the dock access. If I recalled, we had two pressure hatches and one locked screen between us and there.

  “This way,” I said.

  There were a few people, but not many, and all either had masks on their gear or badges that would let them into controlled space. A few of them glanced at me, but no one tried to stop me.

  I knew they’d take some people into their areas, but they couldn’t take many, and trying to push it would get you spaced. It wasn’t that they were cruel. There just wouldn’t be enough air. Especially if the life-support plant got damaged and they couldn’t split or grow more. They had a combination of extracted O2 from water vapor, and stuff from hydroponic tanks. But if the tanks died, then they’d be down by half, then down by whatever leaked.

  It wasn’t going to be pretty. If people were scared now, they were going to get violent when the emergency bottles ran low. The station was effectively out of commission. They’d need weeks of major repair to get it back.

  Juletta hung onto my hand now. She seemed to realize it was bad and she was lost.

  We definitely needed to get off the station. There wasn’t time to try to find her family. That would have to wait.

  We passed one of the pressure hatches, and the access was unlocked due to emergency. Perfect. It was working the way it should, which was also in my favor.

  Tucking her up on my shoulder again, I used the service passage to get to the outside radius 30 of the outer dock. It was easier to walk with increasing G, but harder to carry the girl.

  At the dock, I just pushed the exit lever and walked through. That was a mistake. The UN had had enough brains to post guards, even if they didn’t have enough brains to bypass ID for emergencies.

  There was a single guard, but he was bigger than me and armored.

  “Stop, you. What the hell do you think you’re doing bypassing the corridor? And where—”

  I threw my hand up and slammed the lock pin under his chin. His teeth clacked hard and his eyes rolled up as he went down. I bounced in the low G, but I’d managed to transfer most of the energy into his jaw.

  I was no longer in a mood to be fucked with.

  I looked at Juletta, who just stared at me.

  “Bad man?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Safey is good man.”

  “He wasn’t a real Safety Officer.”

  “Oh,” she said. She seemed to trust me on all this. I wasn’t sure if that was good for her, but it worked for us for the time being.

  The crowd wasn’t as bad up here. In fact, it was light. I’d managed to bypass the mass, and they were all trying to cram into the nearest ships first.

  CHAPTER 5

  The nearest ship to me was a decent-sized freighter with passenger modules already locked in place. I took a deep breath and headed for it, Juletta still clinging to me. In fact, her nails were cutting into my neck.

  “Not so tight, sweetie,” I said. “We’re almost to the ship.”

  “Mom and dad?”

  “Ship first. Have you ever been on a ship?”

  “No. Not without Mom and Dad!”

  “We have to find them, Juletta.”

  I wasn’t sure how long I could keep her from a tantrum.

  I reached the lock ramp and the crew were armed with stunners, standing behind clear shields they’d either had on hand or fabbed fast.

  The guy in front of me was huge, mostly muscle with a bit of padding, bearded and bald with a mean stare.

  I walked right up, slowed enough to avoid a fight, stopped three meters short and introduced myself.

  “Hi. Angie Kaneshiro. Able Spacer, certs for medical, internal and external cargo, galley and services. Distressed Spacer Rule. I need transport but can work my fare.”

  He shrugged and nodded.

  “Better than the shallow bitches following, I guess.” He turned his head, “Phil, got an actual spacer. Sending her up.”

  He turned back and waved his thumb over his shoulder.

  “We’re bound for Caledonia. If that’s not where you want to go, too bad.”

  “That’s where I’m from. Perfect.”

  “Yeah. Good luck with the girl. We don’t have much for kids.”

  “We’ll be fine. Thank you very much for your help.”

  Behind me, a crowd was gathering. I’d beat the rush by about thirty seconds.

  At the top of the ramp, a woman said, “Aft twenty, Portside up . . . no, let’s make it level,” she said, looking at Juletta. “Double for the two of you, but we may have to put someone else in as well.”

  “I’m sure you will. Thank you.”

  I found the stateroom. It was minimal crew quarters, but workable. I dropped my bag, slapped my phone against the terminal to access it, and punched in a hatch code.

  I turned right around.

  “Come with me, Juletta. We need to go see the captain.”

  “Ship captain?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  Actually, any officer would do, but I wanted to explain things to someone.

  I secured my hatch, went forward and hoped things would keep working.

  I made it through two hatches before I did run into the captain. They had a roomy lounge behind the C-deck, and he had a polo with four stripes on his shoulders. He wore a headset with glasses and was talking to someone. I waited until he was done giving orders, which seemed to be about how many people they could stuff aboard.

  “Sir, Angie Kaneshiro. Able spacer, medic, cargo, cook, clean. Thank you for your hospitality. Your crew let me aboard. I can work while I’m here. What do you want me to do?”

  He grinned and said, “Well, we’re tossing
our ID chips. Want to join the party?”

  Behind him, someone was running a chip through an arc demagnetizer.

  “I, uh, already ditched mine,” I said.

  “Hah. Most trif.” He looked impressed. He spoke my dialect. That felt so good.

  “Yeah. Thanks for the lift. It’s getting ugly there, fast.”

  “It is. I wish we could pay you, but given the loading and all . . .”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. His margin wouldn’t support paying deadheads, even if they stretched out the workload. “It’s fine.” I pointed at the girl. “Juletta isn’t mine but she’s traveling with me for now. You’re flying, I’m working. Tell me what you need.”

  He said, “I put all the women with children in Port Mod Two. I’m keeping the men back in Starboard Three. Can you take charge of those habitat bitches and show them how to survive aboard ship?”

  Yeah, he’d need that. His crew didn’t like station women, I gathered. They seemed to like having me to help, at least.

  I said, “I’ll do my best.”

  He actually smiled. “Good. Be all MI on them.”

  “Got it.” I’d try.

  I wasn’t sure what I was going to do in Caledonia with a stray child. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with her here.

  Juletta went with me, clinging on my arm and neck. I closed locks on the way. They’d all been left undogged, which was really stupid after a pressure failure.

  “Mom?” she asked.

  “We have to keep looking,” I said as I monkeyed back, walking and grabbing stanchions. “There are too many people here. We’re going to a meeting place. You know, like school has a meeting place for fire or air incidents?”

  “Yeah.”

  “This is a stationwide air incident. We all have to get off the station, then meet up. Mom and Dad should be there.”

  “Capn will help?”

  “Yes, he’ll take us somewhere safe.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, as we reached the passenger space.

  The pod was full, with kids in a mostly happy swarm and the women chattering away, but some were arguing, two of them face to face. There were four men with kids. Kids adapt fast. It’s always amazed me.

  Why does everyone think their kids look cute? Some were. Some were little trolls. One was shoving another and shouting, “Bitch!”

  Several of the adults looked at me. Some were hopeful, some looked like they wanted a fight, most just curious.

  “Listen up, please,” I said. The rest turned my way and the volume dropped. Some kept whispering.

  “I need all your attention for a few segs or you might die in space.”

  A chick who looked about eighteen G-years, dressed like somebody’s trophy wife or escort said, “We’ve lived in space most of our lives.” She was leaning across a bunk, careful not to mess her hair, but still taking two people’s seating spaces.

  I looked back at her and asked, “On a ship? Or just one of those artificial island hotel thingies?” I waved.

  She wanted to argue. “Pressure, water, bulkheads, clock cycle. Got it.”

  I was learning quickly how a military instructor felt.

  “Where’s your nearest egress? What is your evacuation drill? What is your hull breach drill?”

  She looked at me and started to open her mouth again. It looked out of proportion. She didn’t know how to do lipstick.

  I cut her off with, “Shut the hell up and listen.”

  She still came back with, “Yeah? Who the hell put you in charge?”

  I didn’t raise my voice. I did lean forward slightly and focus on her. “The captain. If you have a problem I’ll give you a chit to see him. He might just leave you here. There are plenty of others who won’t cause trouble.”

  That got her attention, but I wanted to drive it home.

  “So, can I be in charge now, Miss Gio Pants Ensemble with Diamond Accents? All I have is a shipsuit with two thousand light-years of wear on it. Will that satisfy you?”

  “Uh . . . yeah, go ahead.” She tried to shrug me off and sat back, trying to look casual.

  Oh, hell no. “You can address me as ‘Spacer,’ ‘Crewwoman’ or ‘Lady.’”

  There was a pause that started getting embarrassing, with people staring at me, but mostly at her.

  An older lady said, “She means it. I know a vet when I hear one.”

  The woman finally said, “Yes, Spacer.” She wasn’t going to call me “Lady.”

  The matron said, “I’m a vet. Groundside only, but I can take and give orders. I’ll help.”

  Oh, good. That would help a lot, and I was glad the faceoff was over.

  “Thanks. What’s your name?”

  “Claire Copley.”

  “Thanks, Claire.”

  I looked them all over. “I’m Angie Kaneshiro. Medic, stevedore, cargomistress, Able Spacer. This is what I do for a living the last seven years. These pods are really tight for space at the best of times, and this one is basically a bunkroom for laborers. Now, you each have a rack, and either the kids share with you, or we’ll improvise some bedding for them. You need to hold onto them, with webbing, during Jump Point transit. They may feel nauseous, I’ll tell you what to eat before we go. One person sleeps per bunk. This pod is women only. Men are diagonally across and aft. If you want to bump or spread you can use the shower in the head together. We’re going to appoint people to cover stray kids while we work. You’ll be keeping this clean, getting your own meals, and staying out of the crew’s way . . .”

  They listened to me, and didn’t argue much.

  In five segs they had a summary I knew they’d forget, but they knew I was in charge. I hoped.

  Intercom sounded, “All hands, secure for space. Departure imminent.” I felt the outer lock seal.

  The next announcement was, “Umbilicals separated, vessel secure. Undogged and moving.” I could feel it. That wasn’t just a ram. There were maneuvering engines at work. That probably wouldn’t hurt the station regolith, but it might melt hatch equipment.

  Then, “We are in space. Duty rotation to commence. Passengers stand by and await instructions.”

  That was the most abbreviated pullout I’d ever experienced. With a ship, I mean.

  I wasn’t a passenger, or was I? And I had Juletta.

  She looked up at me with big eyes. I figured she wasn’t sure what I had been doing, but I’d been telling adults off. She was probably either scared or impressed.

  I gathered her up and stepped through the hatch. As I dogged it, she said, “You strong, Anzhie.”

  “I am when I need to be,” I said.

  “Are we friends?”

  “Yes, Juletta. We’re friends.” I fastened her hands around my neck and started dragging myself along grips, glad I was only in the passage, not in the long umbilical to towed pods.

  “Where’s Mom and Dad?”

  “We’re still trying to find them. There’s an air leak in the station, so we have to go to another.”

  I hoped we’d meet them in Caledonia. If not, they’d still be in this volume of space. Assuming they weren’t dead, but with what info I had, I didn’t think many, if any, were.

  “Find a safety ofser?”

  “They can’t help with that, Sweetie. We need the ship for that. Have you ever been on one?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it might be a few days, but we’ll be safe.”

  “You make me safe.”

  I’m going to try. “I’ll do my best.”

  How did I get into this crate?

  I got into the stateroom as engines started thrusting. I lunged for the bunk, grabbed her with me, and said, “Hang on, we’re moving.”

  “Rockets?”

  I didn’t even know if this one was string drive or forceline propulsion.

  “Yes,” I agreed.

  CHAPTER 6

  I hear all kinds of stories about the “Spacelift” as it got called. There wasn’t any official request or SOS that I
know of. The haulers and trampers just decided that people needed help and moved to evacuate everyone who showed up. Some had access to long-duration O2 supplies, but even most of them pulled out. No one knew if there would be any resupply, or what the damage was.

  I got a tx from Lee that said he was riding down insystem to a habitat around Dagda for now. I wished him luck back.

  My phone told me we were queued for a jump and our number was three divs down. That was going to be well into third shift, and I’d have to stay up to coddle the stationers.

  What would I do with the girl?

  I expected I’d have a bunkmate, but I didn’t. It might mean I’d get one after we shuffled other refugees around. On the other hand, I wasn’t going to offer if it wasn’t necessary, and I’d wait for the crew to make the call. I didn’t want to ask the crew to do anything they didn’t have to. With this kind of crowd, they were going to be holding things together by hand until we docked.

  “Juletta,” I said, as I sat her on the bunk. “I have to go help people some more. Can you stay here?”

  The expression on her face said I couldn’t. She looked like a puppy about to be abandoned.

  “Okay, you come with me,” I said quickly. “But you have to be quiet, and wait patiently. No fussing, okay?”

  “No playing with kids?”

  “Not now. Maybe later.”

  “Hungry,” she said.

  “Yeah, let’s find the galley.”

  How much food was aboard? This was going to be a four to five day trip at least, if we could transfer direct to Shetland Station. I figured that wouldn’t be likely.

  Galley was forward, inboard and down one gangtube, which wasn’t easy. I finally had her sit on my shoulders and hold my head. She managed to pull hair and cover my eyes, but we got down.

  One of the regular crew was in the galley. It was small. I mean, the right size for this crew, not enough for the passenger load.

  “Hey, who are you?” he asked. He looked ready to order me back wherever I came from.

  “Kaneshiro, Distressed Spacer. The captain put me in charge of the inboard refugees.”

  He nodded and asked, “What do you need?”

  “Food for the girl, then for me if you can. Can we do anything for the others?”