by Trent Falls
“I need to speak to the Marshal.” John explained. “That’s probably the best route to go. The office still in the same place?”
“Yeah, it hasn’t changed much. It still looks like an old motel with a security garrison tacked on the front.” Alex replied.
“Do you know the new Marshal?” John asked.
“No, but I hear he’s a good cop. He was NYPD.”
“Alex Rhodes? He’s still Marshal?”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. I forgot that you worked with him and you turned the post over to him.” Alex responded.
They walked on through the concourse. Julie eyed two Deputy Marshals wearing black battledress. Both carried AUG-404 submachine guns, which were also black and blended in among their other gear. John noticed the two marshals as well. It was an eerily familiar sight. The uniform hadn’t changed much except for the color. In black they looked more like police or hired guards rather than EEF soldiers.
One of the two black garbed soldiers glanced at John and Alex, but his attention immediately turned away to another direction.
“Speaking of which.” Alex noted aside to John once they were ahead of the guards and further up the hall.
“Some things don’t change.” John observed. “You still get malcontents in the airport or the city?”
“I don’t think so. You’d have to ask the Marshal. I haven’t read about any in the last few times I’ve been here.” Alex answered. “I don’t usually stay here long, though.”
The crowds of people grew larger in the concourse ahead. They walked out into some central junction of the spaceport. The ceiling in the junction was about 15 meters high. Half scale models of various space and aircraft from throughout history were hung from the massive steel lattice beams holding up the skylight roof. Models of the Apollo lander, the Bell X-1, the Space Shuttle, Ares Voyager, a DC-6B with Pan-Am markings all circled an elongated craft mounted in the center of the ceiling. The Aurora, the craft that had first landed on Proxima Five sixty years earlier, was the centerpiece of the hanging exhibit.
Colorful banners hung on the side walls of the concourse common area. Numerous 3D flat monitors were set all around the lounges and walkways, showing either local programming, displaying flight schedules, or noting technical information of the aerospace exhibit hanging above.
The trio skirted the side of the concourse to walk towards one of the exits of the spaceport. They walked out through another series of automatic doors out into a massively wide bridge. Conveyor belts set at the sides of the bridge allowed people to cross the incredibly long bridge a bit easier.
The heat and humidity were overwhelming as they walked outside onto the covered bridge.
“Here’s where it gets fun.” John looked over at Julie as they rode the conveyor belt.
“Ugh! It’s so hot!” Julie grumbled. “I wish I had sunglasses.”
John looked over Julie in her filthy clothes. Her blue top was smudged with dirt, grime, and sweat. John’s shirt and pants weren’t much better. Black was the wrong color to be wearing in the summer on Proxi Five.
“We’ll have to get you some new clothes.” John noted to his niece.
“Uh! Yes please!” Julie replied.
“I think I should get something too.” John looked down at his clothes.
The sound of a busker grew as they reached the end of the conveyor. He was playing a Spencer Davis song made popular ten years earlier on his acoustic electric guitar. An electric MIDI-like interface was taped to the side of his guitar, allowing him to control prerecorded elements to the song. It wasn’t a bad version of the song.
The area beyond the bridge was much more disreputable than the formal setting of the spaceport. The structure beyond the bridge seemed like a much older building. John knew this to be so. The concrete structures beyond the bridge were much like a plaza, only they were somewhat haphazardly organized, like the markets in Kowloon or perhaps the old ghettos of Hong Kong. A repulse engine repair shop was located at the entry of the plaza. A Mexican restaurant followed, with a convenience store and a women’s clothing boutique just after.
The loud guitars of “Fish Taco” by Dick Dale blared ahead.
Julie suddenly felt uncomfortable as she saw what was obviously a hooker standing a few feet away. The woman was a brunette with short hair. A very short black skirt and a sheer Asian print top covered her svelte frame. Another girl with long brown hair, seemingly of Japanese descent, wore a tight blue skirt with white stars and a powder blue bikini top.
“Hey sweetie! Want to earn a little extra money?” One of the prostitutes grinned at Julie.
John grabbed Julie’s arm, forcing her to move ahead of him and from gawking at the hookers. A stim junkie sat on a slab of elevated concrete near the modular unit that made up the convenience store. The stim junkie was off his high, dreary eyed and sluggish. There were a number of ordinary people, workers, walking through the area. Not all were tweakers, prostitutes, or hoods, but there was enough of that element visible to give John and Julie pause for worry.
“Stick close to me.” John grumbled to Julie paternally.
“Is that guy…” Julie stared for a moment at the stim junkie.
“Yes.” John pulled her along. “Keep moving.”
“You’re a fucking prude, bitch! A fucking prude!” the hooker yelled after Julie.
Julie tried to ignore the prostitutes as she was whisked away. The hooker said something incomprehensible to the stim junkie and laughed hysterically.
“Why does the EEF let all this go on? All this crime?” Julie asked.
“Why does it still happen on Earth?” John asked her back. “The United Nations was in such a damned rush to develop this planet. The colonists that came here first were real professionals. Engineers, city planners, top-notch construction people… that was in the beginning. Then some people on Earth thought it would be a fun pet project to try and rehabilitate ex-cons and started sending a few here. Their numbers swelled. A lot of people on Earth accused our governments of dumping the ‘undesirable elements’ of Earth here.”
“I know. We read something about it in school.” Julie noted.
“It was a lot different living it.” John replied. “Imagine you live in a great neighborhood. All the lawns are green. You love all your neighbors. You all worked so hard to make the neighborhood really great. Then, suddenly, a big time drug dealer moves in.”
“Didn’t you have insurgents here after the war?” Julie asked her uncle as they walked through the crowds.
John remained silent for a moment, pushing past an old woman haggling with a meat vendor over cuts of prime rib.
“Yeah, we had insurgents.” John answered Julie plainly.
“Are there still any here?” Julie looked around, feeling somewhat uneasy with the dirtiness of the people around her.
“No, they’re all gone.” John replied.
“You sure?” Julie pressed.
“Pretty sure.” John looked back at her. “There’s probably a few Xen agents around here and there, maybe a spy or two, but none have been active in years.”
Julie looked around as she continued on through the crowds. John slowed to walk behind her to keep her safe. With Alex in the lead Julie was able to walk between them in a line, offering her some level of protection.
They walked on through the plaza, past pizza vendors, holographic arcades, a Vietnamese nail salon, an exotic bird store with iron bars and electric security stunners, and a temporary worker staffing office. They walked on for what seemed like forever until they left the plaza, emerging from a small backstreet onto a long open public park. The area of the city beyond the plaza was much better. There were two tall buildings off to their right which looked to be middle class apartment housing.
“Where exactly are we going?” Alex asked, almost as a complaint. The brutal heat had covered them all in sweat.
“There’s a Target over there.” John pointed to the familiar red Target logo beyond the park. “Can you take Jul
es there to see about getting her some clothes?”
“Yeah, sure. Where are you going?” Alex asked.
“To see Carlos Killgore.” John explained. “His shop is in this area.”
“His shop? John you haven’t been here in ten years. How do you know it's still there?” Alex raised an eyebrow.
“I still talk with Carlos via burst transmission e-mail packets. He still has a shop here.” John explained. “I’m going to use his vid phone to set up a meeting with the Marshal.”
“Why do you need to set up a meeting with the Marshal?” Julie asked with some confusion.
John searched his own mind for a good excuse. “There are still dangerous elements here. I don’t want to risk you, or any of us, being harmed. There’s some important information I need to get to him, though.”
Julie didn’t reply. She simply took the excuse at face value.
“I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit. I need to get out of these rags too.” John added. “I won’t be long.”
“Okay.” Alex led Julie away. “Just be careful.”
“Yeah, you too!” John looked back at Alex, then at Julie.
Alex led Julie away. John kept his eyes on his niece for a while until they were several feet away. He really didn’t want to let Julie out of his sight, but at the same time he didn’t want her to know he was in any kind of trouble with the law. It was stupid but he needed to save face with his adoptive daughter. He didn’t want her to worry either. All he wanted to do was get her home safely. He’d be able to arrange that with a face-to-face meeting with Marshal Rhodes.
John turned his attention away from Julie and Alex and walked on through the park. He headed to a group of storefronts located at the bottom of one of the nearby apartment buildings. Like many other ground floor shops, the design was similar to those in a major Earth metropolis like New York, San Francisco, or even in the megaplex where John lived with Julie in Boynton Beach.
Carlos’ shop was almost exactly as he remembered. He could barely place the sight of it against the faded memory in his head until he actually looked at it. Carlos owned an information lounge, what in an earlier century might be considered a news stand. There were no newspapers, though. The shop was more like a coffee house. Customers were allowed to access Carlos’ local network via their wireless devices to obtain any number of media files; music, film, books. People mostly went there for a coffee and to correspond through e-mail packets back to Earth or the other colonies.
A sign over the information lounge displayed the name of Carlos’ establishment; Sirens of Titan. It was named after one of Carlos’ favorite novels.
A friendly alert chime resounded as John walked through the swinging storefront door to the information lounge. The smell of cinnamon, coffee, and tobacco accented the air. There were couches off to the left. One was covered in maroon fabric and was well-worn. The other was tan and offset against the maroon couch with a circular table set in front of both. Even though it was really early in the morning there were two patrons tucked into a quiet corner of the lounge. The white haze of sunlight coming in from the outside window beamed between two young denizens of New Australia. One was a young redheaded woman whose attention was buried in her tablet computer. Her boyfriend, a young light skinned man with long green hair sat next to her, kept his attention focused on a chess board. As John walked further into the lounge he saw the boyfriend’s opponent, a large and very heavyset guy with dark hair and a beard. John had to look twice at the heavyset guy as he reminded him of another professor he worked with at PBSC. It wasn’t the same guy but the two looked remarkably alike.
“Uplinks two credits for an hour. Unlimited data. Ten credits for the entire day.” A familiar voice caught John’s ear.
He turned towards the speaker; a man in his late forties sitting on the other side of the coffee bar. His face was turned down, fixated in the glowing light of his tablet computer.
“What’ll it be?” Carlos asked him indirectly. He still hadn’t looked up from his tablet to see who had come in. “It’s too early to serve alcohol. We got any kind of coffee up on the board and breakfast sandwiches. Today’s special is….” Carlos finally looked up. Shock overtook his face. “HOLY SHIT!!!!”
John, dirty and worn, stood still in front of Carlos’ bar. The green haired boyfriend and his heavyset opponent looked up from their game at Carlos to see what the shouting was about.
“I need to use your vid-phone.” John grinned back at his old friend. “My grav car broke down and I need to call the wrecker.”
Carlos ran out from behind his bar. “Holy shit, man! It’s great to see you! What the hell are you doing out here?!?”
Carlos emerged from behind his bar. He gave John a hug even though he was filthy. “Jez!” Carlos backed away quick, realizing how dirty John was. “You look like you’ve been through the armpit of fucking hell, man!”
“No, nowhere near that bad.” John smiled back at his old friend. “How you been? The place looks great!”
The green haired kid and his heavyset opponent returned their attention back to their game.
“Aw, thanks man. Just out here surviving. Shit! This is a big surprise! You didn’t tell me you were coming out here!” Carlos was still overwhelmed by the surprise of seeing his friend.
“I didn’t know I was coming out here until a week or so ago.” John joked back.
“So what’s with all the dirt?” Carlos gestured to John’s filthy clothes. “You’re not in some kind of trouble, are you?”
“Not really.” John lied. “I wasn’t really kidding about using your vid phone though. I need to make a call. You mind?”
“No, no, no! Go right ahead.” Carlos stood aside. “It’s in the back near my office, just like old times. You don’t have a mobile?”
“No, mine doesn’t work on the local network. Like I said, I came here on short notice. Haven’t set it up yet.” John replied.
“Oh, okay. Listen, I’ll set you up with something up here.” Carlos went on. “I’m thinking you’ll want something cold. It’s fucking brutal hot outside.”
“Yes, please! That’ll be great!” John spoke over his shoulder, genuinely appreciative as he walked towards the back of the lounge.
Chapter 21
Marcus Agrev stood at bridge of the Nanjing. Agrev stood at the back of the bridge, wearing a blue commodore’s jacket. Though he was retired from the navy, he was given the garment to assure his rank as a High Councilor would be respected. He was an extension of the Xen government; therefore he was entitled to outrank the senior officer on the vessel, which in that case was the Nanjing’s captain.
The Nanjing was a landing frigate. A little less than half the length of a Xen carrier, the Nanjing was just as well armed, boasting six trigun phase cannons, fourteen missile launchers, and dozens of anti-starfighter turrets. The entire rear of the vessel was comprised of three stacked hangar bays. Each bay was cavernous, capable of holding a great number of landing craft. The landing frigate was designed during the war around the mission objective of establishing a beach head on a hostile colony planet. The Nanjing and the others like it in the Shandian class were built to lay siege and land a great number of ground troops. Since the end of the war the Shandain class vessels had been relegated to patrol. They were much faster than a Xen carrier. Typically the Nanjing would enter a system and launch two dozen or so patrol craft. Those craft would sweep through a given planetary system, ensuring that it was secure.
Captain Sands stood ahead and to the left of Agrev. Sands was a tall man of African and Pakistani descent. At thirty three, he was young for a captain. He had seen little of the war. Most of Sand’s bridge crew was far younger and had not taken part in the war at all. Nearly all had not seen combat at all. All the same the bridge crew manned their stations with the utmost of their ability. They remained sharp and focused.
They knew the eyes of the government were upon them.
Agrev rubbed his nose with the back of his ri
ght index finger. He remained still at the back of the bridge, not wanting to create any kind of disturbance. The Nanjing was at warp. The stars ahead beyond the bridge viewport were stretched and red-shifted.
“Coming up on rendezvous coordinates captain.” A young Xen navigator said from his post.
Sands turned his attention to the main viewport. The sight of the red-shifted stars ahead was always an intimidating sight but he had become used to it. “Bring us out at least 100 MSK out. I don’t want to scare them.”
“Aye Captain.” The helmsman said from his post. He tapped in a series of commands into his workstation.
The programmed exit coordinates took about two minutes to reach. As the Nanjing drew close to the exit coordinates the stars ahead pulled back, brightening back into a normal field of glowing white points against the eternity of black. The perspective of movement was deceptive as the crew looked ahead to the stars. In a few moments a point ahead grew very quickly, becoming the very large elongated rectangular form of a Xen carrier. The Ao Shun, bristling with weaponry, loomed ahead against the stars of space.
“We have arrived at the rendezvous coordinates, sir.” The young navigator said from his post. “The Ao Shun has acknowledged our transponder and IFF signal.”
Captain Sands was about to issue an order when one was shouted out from behind.
“Open a secure channel to the Ao Shun, lieutenant.” Agrev boomed the order from behind Sands.
The coms officer eyed Sands briefly then complied. “Aye, aye, Councilor.”
There was a group of four quick beeps on the overhead com system. This signified the channel was open.
“Captain Shin of the Ao Shun. This is Marcus Agrev of the Xen High Council. Please reply with your mission status.”
There was a few seconds of static on the line. Another series of beeps were emitted by the coms speakers. The channel had been rerouted on the Ao Shun’s end.
“Councilor Agrev.” Shin’s voice finally responded. “You honor us with your presence, sir. We are preparing to make the final jump to Location Delta. All hands are ready.”