Do Unto Others-ARC

by Michael Z. Williamson

  The man behind the desk was creepy and oily, but must have respectable credentials to be here. He couldn't afford it otherwise. Besides, Eggett recommended him.

  "I am Abdullah Aziz bin Rahman. How may I be of service?"

  His grip was firm enough, and he understood westerners enough not to get as close as was customary for his culture, though as a Grainnean resident, it wouldn't bother Jason much. Still, if he passed as an American, that was better.

  Jason offered, "Assalam u allaikam, sabaaH al xeer."

  "Allaikam a salaam. Ahlan biik." bin Rahman seemed at least slightly more genial to a paying client who made a courteous attempt at bad Arabic.

  Jason sat politely, accepted a mug of tea and sipped. Polite formalities indicated he was being taken seriously.

  He place the cup carefully down and said, "Thank you for seeing me on short notice. I'm told you handle business matters for travelers and guests?"

  "Yes, sir. I understand you're in somewhat of a hurry?"

  "I need to send a lengthy legal message. It's on this zip," he said, and handed over the stick. "Its arrival and confidentiality are of the utmost concern. It must arrive at this address, but through an intermediary."

  "There are many ways to send a message. I appreciate your business, though." That was a hint to the client that while it was secure, it was suspicious. bin Rahman didn't seem offended, but he did look cautious.

  Jason remained relaxed. "Very good, sir. Here's another thousand Marks. Please deliver the message and I will come back for a response. I'll check in two days. I may visit, or call with this code." He laid a paper down on the desk.

  "Certainly, mister Rogan. You have a generous retainer for these items."

  "Thank you. I'll need a billed statement at the end, but in the meantime, let me know if another deposit is required."

  "Of course, sir. I'll send this personally within the hour. Do please finish your tea. "

  "Thank you. It is excellent."

  "Yes, a wealthy Canadian introduced me to maple syrup for sweetening tea, instead of honey. It is one of God's finer creations."

  "Very much. Thank you for sharing it with me. But I know your time is valuable. Fursa saHiida." He placed the cup down, rose and shook hands again.

  "My pleasure, sir. Allaah yisallimak."

  He bowed slightly and shook hands again on the way out. He deliberately turned the wrong way, browsed a couple of shops and admired imported leather wallets that cost forty times as much as they should, and laser-carved indigenous rocks that were pretty but useless.

  Still no notice, which was what he anticipated, but the odds were still there.

  That done, he headed back the way he'd come.

  Alex was out with his trusty slate when his phone buzzed. It made him twitch and flinch for just a moment.

  He took a glance down. The number displayed was the one Cady had for emergencies. Good.

  "I'm here," he answered, as he strode for a wall where he could see anyone approaching.

  "It seems Joe Prescot wants to cancel all our contracts ASAP. No hard feelings, did the best we could, sorry about the two operators who died with Bryan. Bonus and effects to be forthcoming. Now please will all respect get off the planet."

  "That is his prerogative."

  "It is," Cady agreed. "However, certainly the threat level is now higher. He should be hiring additional security. He's not. A couple here and there for the local staff, but no dedicated professionals."

  "Well, we already knew he was dirty. Too late, sadly."

  "He played craven well," Cady agreed. "However, we publicly have to leave, so you can't get any support from us. The stuff already in position is yours, of course. M says he's endorsing, privately, the continued support of Loretta. Either it works out, or he'll write off the costs."

  And write off six dead operators, if it comes down to that. But we don't discuss that.

  "Understood. That's the best we can manage under the circumstances. Thank him on our behalf, and keep the intel open. We'll do what we can. Now it's time to close this channel."

  "Understand your requests, and good luck."

  "Out."

  Bart made his way back from the commissary, toward Eggett's quarters, for the daily briefing. It wasn't ideal to keep doing that, but they couldn't use radios or phones for anything other than periodic short notes. Today he had a message telling him to do so, which meant something was to happen.

  Elke had installed a discreet wired camera a few days earlier, so he timed his approach for a quiet corridor, and the door opened as he reached it. He slipped sideways and in and it closed behind him. He was last in. The others stood in a group around a stranger.

  Eggett's quarters were not home, but they were a safe base, and he relaxed slightly. Of course, they might be found out, but no random notice would affect them. The man was presumably vouched for.

  He was a bit shaggy. Not that his hair was long, just self-cut, it seemed, and he needed a shave. His clothing was intact and without holes, but starting to fray at the edges.

  "Call me Ontos," he said. "I was mining supervisor for one of the tunnels until a year ago."

  Bart asked, "And you chose to stay?"

  "I like caves. I don't need a lot of luxuries. I don't like Earth much anymore." He didn't offer more than that.

  "We need some privacy and food for a few days, and some access to the upper levels now and then," Alex said.

  "I can probably arrange that. What's in it for me?"

  "Some money. Not a lot."

  "Any helps. I'll consider it."

  "We don't have a lot of time, unfortunately."

  "I can see that you don't. And I will do nothing if you continue to lie to me." He nodded at Caron. Clearly, he knew who she was.

  "Yes, I am," she said.

  "And we're not going to mention her name. It probably doesn't matter, but we're going to be paranoid."

  "Yeah. You know about the wage and living conditions here?"

  "I do now," she said. "That was not our intent, and I assure you I'm going to make that sick fucker of an uncle of mine pay for it."

  "So you say."

  "I do."

  "It's a shame you didn't notice some time ago. Or your father. The money seems to have blinded you."

  "The money came about in a hurry. It also seems my uncle wasn't happy with his share and was willing to cut us off from all information to boost his, no matter how many people he hurt."

  "I'll accept that for now. You realize I'm putting my ass on the line legally and literally?"

  "Has the Company ever violated an agreement with you?"

  "No. The agreements often sucked, but they were adhered to."

  "You have my word on your safety and secrecy. Neither I nor the Company will pursue charges on any administrative crime. We won't try to have you removed. That doesn't absolve you of murder or such."

  Ontos extended a hand. She took it and shook it firmly.

  "Then follow me," he said. "In pairs, just within sight of each other. I'm going right."

  He turned, opened the door and slipped out.

  At once, Alex said, "Shaman and Bart first. Elke go with Caron. Aramis trail them. Jason and I are last."

  That was quick, Bart thought. He grabbed stuff in a hurry and led off.

  Horace came with him, and moved slightly ahead to keep Ontos in sight. Ontos punched a code into a secure door, which led into another maintenance corridor. Horace caught it just in time, and waited for Bart, then moved on briskly. Bart held the door until Caron caught it, then turned and strode down the corridor.

  It was dimly lit and empty, all plain metal panels with occasional cross passages to other entrances.

  Ahead, Horace checked each threat point. Bart did the same, glancing down the stark, gleaming halls. Aramis passed the two women to provide additional front cover.

  The passage turned from metal to drilled stone with bare conduit between sparse lights. This led to billets and access
tunnels to the mine proper. Bart scented occasional whiffs of sulfur.

  He saw Horace wave to the left, and acknowledged. He reached that point, checked in front and behind and then stepped into the side passage. It was unlit and dusty.

  Shortly, they bunched up as the roof got lower and the sides narrower. It was just about a meter by two at this point.

  Bart flipped on a tiny light. Five lumens was plenty, with dark-adjusted eyes. He kept it angled down to illuminate their path. No need to send a bright, piercing gleam down the tunnel to anyone who might be there.

  He could just make out Ontos, who turned off to the left into a very raw looking tunnel, more like a volcanic gas vent that had a hammered floor. It twisted and the floor rose and fell. A bit further on he turned right into a passage low enough to be uncomfortable, with a floor too rough to crawl on. Bart grunted as he hobbled, and tried to ignore the now sickening sulfurous odor.

  Then space opened back up into a rounded bubble pocket big enough to stand in. He skittered slightly on the relatively smooth ground, but came to a stop with the others in a cluster. He held out an arm for Caron, and she steadied herself. She looked healthy enough, as far as her expression went.

  Ontos reached into a couple of crevices and pulled, and a section of rock shifted. It was a thin sheath over a metal door. Very ingenius, and it probably took some time to build.

  Aramis went first, Alex reached through and went second, then Elke shooed Caron in and followed.

  "Well, this is comfortable," Elke said from in front. That didn't prepare Bart for just how comfortable it was. Elke wasn't usually one for understatement.

  Bart had to duck through the hatch, and rose inside. He stepped away to let Vaughn and Mbuto through. The compartment wasn't large; was barely taller than he, and the walls were bare cut rock.

  However, it opened up to the left.

  There were four plastic chairs, probably stolen from the mine, and a card table. The bed was built of plastic panels, with an air mattress atop. A comm was fastened to the wall. It was a few years out of date but perfectly functional. The lights were minimal but adequate. It wasn't luxurious, but was safe and far beyond a "cave."

  Elke glanced around quickly, doing an assessment. She ignored the porn. It was a guy thing and didn't bother her. Caron very graciously acted as if it didn't exist, but when she thought no one was looking, she surreptitiously glanced at the images, whether curious or critical wasn't clear. It was the straightforward male interest stuff. Oral and lesbian and not much setting, just people having sex. Why Ontos chose those as wall decorations was the part she wondered about. Trying to create an impression of not being alone? Yes, he had two full-length, fully-clothed shots of a current model, too. She nodded once she understood the motivation. Some people handled lonely well, but they were still lonely. Asocial tendencies didn't negate the need for interaction.

  "I'm limited on food," Ontos said. He looked them up and down. "You probably eat a lot. You get two days."

  "We brought some food, too," Caron said.

  "As long as it's not beef liver or chicken."

  "Pork sausage, chops, some smoked herring and some cubed steak."

  His eyes widened a bit.

  "Ever think of sharing that lower down?" he asked.

  "As far as I know, we were working on it."

  "Yes, it did take a while for things to work through the system," he said. "Well, I very much appreciate your generosity. Eat all you want within reason. I'll produce more, after a fashion."

  Interesting, Elke thought. Did the dropouts have their own farm, even?

  "You can sleep over there, and around that corner. I don't have nor need a lot of space."

  Alex said, "That's fine. We have sleeping blankets and cold gear. We'll make it work."

  Ontos pointed down a dark corridor.

  "Latrine is at the end. Close the door and run the vacuum pump once you're done. It'll smell a bit, but it dissipates quickly. The vacuum boils liquid, which is condensed out and filtered. I'm never short of clean water for drinking, but don't yet have enough for bathing. Working on it."

  "Got it."

  "I can have hot sandwiches ready in an hour. Bread's easy to get. They leave it out to be eaten so it doesn't have to be recycled."

  "Sounds as if you manage adequately. This isn't a bad bachelor pad."

  "It's crude and raw, but it's all mine and I have my entire life to improve it."

  Caron asked, "What about your pay and bonuses?"

  "That's what I'm living off," he said. "I figure I can stretch it for life here. Clothes now and then. Occasional gear like comm upgrades. A snack once in a while."

  It didn't seem like much of a life to Elke, but she knew people with ascetic and hermit tendencies. It was probably safe enough. He had his own small kingdom. For some, that was happiness.

  Jason was the last to clean up. The latrine was a deep pit, and vacuum dried everything to minerals in between uses, with the water evaporated for recycling, for cleaning as Ontos had said. The drinking water seemed to be smuggled bottles from the mine supplies.

  He and Elke had placed a couple of tiny transponders outside Ontos' cave, just for heads up. That, and Elke had planted a charge that would blow anyone in the bubble into greasy smears, hopefully without damaging the structural integrity. She was still fabricating charges whenever not sleeping or on duty, and had her old panoply of destruction in a pocketed vest, ready to deploy.

  Between the four chairs and some crates and a rock shelf on the wall, there was a seat for everyone. The sandwiches looked a bit like burgers, and had pickled cauliflower in them, with marginally fresh, slightly brown lettuce. There was salt and ketchup in packets, but nothing else. Still, it was food and hot and calories. He grabbed one and took a bite. Not bad. The flavor was a little odd.

  "Do I dare ask what we're eating?" he asked.

  Ontos said, "Worms, of course."

  "Worms," he said. That was a bit unexpected.

  Interesting. Elke and Aramis stared at each other and refused to twitch. Bart hesitated only a moment. Caron twisted up her face, but took a deep breath and kept eating. Jason had eaten a few bugs and critters in survival training. This looked like burger, so he wasn't going to freak. He was just going to concentrate on burger, though it was a little chewy, like squid in a way.

  Ontos lectured while he munched. "They're easier to grow than vat meat. Enzymes for compost are easy to get, the compost is free, the worms churn it into soil for plants, and they grow fast. The day before serving, you drop them into a tub of flour. They shit out the soil and fill up with flour and incidentally coat themselves. Then you either mince them or drop them into hot oil. Very high in protein and not a bad flavor."

  Everyone kept eating, though there was obvious strain.

  Caron asked, "Is that typical here?"

  "For dropouts? Yes. We sometimes trade for steak or chicken. I snag guinea pig when I can. We've got pretty good brain power in the network. We have water condensers, hydroponics, guinea pigs. We're working on caged chickens and pigmy pigs."

  Caron's expression was a combination of horrified, fascinated and pitying. She said nothing, though, and kept eating. It looked slow and labored, but she minded her manners. Only occasionally did she half wince.

  She asked, "What about power? Other food?"

  "Snoopy, aren't you?" he asked. "Batteries and a power inverter. Solar charging at a hidden spot on the surface by another dropout who also runs a thermodifferential power farm. We're slowly running wire, as we get it, and hooking into the grid. Other food is leftover or dated from the kitchens. It doesn't save, doesn't cost the company anything, and we cut down on costs of disposal, though they don't get to compost it themselves. The batteries are stolen, but will be returned eventually."

  "You don't have a pressure tight door. What happens in event of a major leak?"

  "I grab my mask and pray."

  "How long can you last?"

  "Not long. Serious
ly, though, a hole bad enough to do that would kill thousands anyway. It's not a real concern. What is a concern is that my pump and filter have limited capacity to refresh the air. You'll need to get me more batteries and filtration fluid."

  "Just steal it?"

  "That's an interesting question. You're the owner. Can you steal from yourself?"

  "An accountant would say yes. Also, I'm not currently the practical owner, so again yes."

  Bart said, "I know where to get those. When we next make a patrol I will do so."

  Alex deemed this a safe hole for now, but there was a timetable in effect. The longer Caron was missing, the more likely her uncle could get a declaration of death. Also, he had more time to consolidate his position. So as they'd done before, they needed to get the principal through hostile territory to make a visible presence. Going out of system was probably out of the question. The tourists were well known, and the miners' transports were less than safe, easy to check, and he wouldn't put it past the man to blow a few up, or just halt them, if there was a risk of Caron escaping. The current "delay" on departures was part of that. He was even graciously paying bonuses to the detained laborers.

  He got Elke's attention, and she came over. She hunched over next to him.

  "Yes?" she asked quietly.

  "How's Caron holding up?"

  "Brittle."

  "Keep her company. You're the closest thing to a female friend she has."

  "I'll try, though I'm not much for female culture. I've been a tomboy forever."

  "I know. Do what you can."

  Elke nodded and rose.

  Caron took that moment to speak up herself.

  "Alex, you were hired to protect me, not to baby me. Your blokes need to sleep more than I do. I'll manage on the rock."

  "I'd like everyone to be able to move quickly and effectively. Some padding will help."

  "Okay, but not more than yourselves."

  "Thanks, Miss," he agreed.

  In short order he had everyone save himself and Shaman bedded down, with watch rotations planned. Elke was wrapped around her shotgun as if it was a teddy bear, which would creep him out if he hadn't seen it before. Jason and Aramis had weapons comfortably next to themselves and touching them, so if the weapons were disturbed they'd notice. Bart slept on his back with a holstered pistol and the carbine tucked into the blanket.