The Battle of Hollow Jimmy

by Becky Black

  "Maiga?" Wixa said, her voice lower, more nervous than usual. "We… We made our choice. Are you ready to make yours?"

  ~o~

  She wanted time to think, Maiga told them. And now she sat on the train, Wixa sitting across from her. Going by the intense look on Wixa's face, she was trying to actually read Maiga's thoughts. Sorry, that's once place even Gry has no surveillance.

  There was something Maiga had to mention though. A thought she had to put into words.

  "Wixa."

  The word seemed to startle Wixa. "Yes, what? Are you--?"

  "There's something I have to say. Something I noticed about your friend Gry."

  "The smell?" Wixa asked, wearing an expression she probably imagined to be innocent.

  "No, the smell didn't bother me so much. It's something slightly more important than that."

  Wixa squirmed. "Oh, um, you mean that he's mad?"

  "That's it!" Maiga said, snapping her fingers and pointing at Wixa for a second. "You put your finger on it. He's madder than a box of frogs!"

  Wixa frowned. "He's not that bad."

  "He lives in a hole and spies on the station using… kitty-cam!"

  "Well, yes…" Wixa sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "Look, he wasn't always like that. He was my friend. He was my first partner in the field in Military Intel and he taught me so much. He was, he still is, a genius."

  Maiga nodded. That sounded fair. Madness aside, that was a hell of a setup he had down there. And with his feline mobile surveillance device he could likely see almost anywhere on the station. Like a god. No, only part a god, omniscient, but impotent. He could see, but he couldn't do, others had to be his hands.

  "I found him here on Hollow Jimmy when I retired here," Wixa went on, bringing Maiga's attention back to her. "This was a long time after we'd worked together and I'd been told he was dead. Hah, I keep running into dead folk here, don't I?"

  She glanced up as they stopped at a station. Several more to go before their stop.

  "It turned out he was undercover here. He had a new identity as a retiree, but actually he was here to gather Intel. You know how many humans and others come and go from this place. It's an ideal centre to gather info. Like I told you, that's what Major Jax and her girls and all their predecessors did. But Gry is more a technical intel gatherer. He was here to monitor the network and the communications systems."

  "Well, what happened? How did he end up…?" She jerked a thumb back behind her.

  "He built that place just to work from at first, but he started staying down there longer and longer. He went totally native about Hollow Jimmy, you see. Started caring more about the station than about Earth, shifted his loyalties. Eventually he faked his own death report, so he could stop working for High Command. And then he just started staying down there in his… lair. Taking care of the station, he says. I don't think he's left there in over two years now. Even before then, he lived there for months at a time."

  Maiga found it hard to know what to say, Wixa looked depressed about it, she didn't need reprimanding. And anyway, what could Maiga say to anyone about failing to nip something in the bud before it became dangerous?

  "Did you try to get him to see a doctor?" Maiga asked.

  "In the early days, I did. When he was still living topside for at least part of the time. But he wouldn't go and I couldn't force him. He was my friend, my partner, my best teacher. I did my best to help him. But it wasn't enough, I suppose. Now I guess I'm just trying to keep him alive."

  Is this who I'm supposed to ally myself with? Maiga wondered. A madman and his keeper. Am I supposed to trust that either of them have sound judgement? Wixa may not be mad, but she feeds a madman, feeds his disease. And what do the two of them really think of me? What does Gry think of any of the figures he sees on his screens? Are any of them people to him, or just puppets to play out the drama he wants to watch?

  "Why should I believe I'm the best person for this job when the person who chose me is crazy?"

  "I chose you too, and I'm not crazy," Wixa said, a weak smile on her face.

  Maiga glanced at Wixa's blue hair and declined to offer an opinion on that.

  "In fact," Wixa said, "I was more keen on you than he was. He had his eye on Chervaz." She winced when Maiga grimaced at the name.

  "I think Gry has an eye on everyone on the station." She looked up suddenly, searching for a camera lens. "He's probably watching us right now, isn't he?"

  "Probably," Wixa said, shrugging. "You either try not to think about it, or you start showering in the dark. Anyway, I argued that the newspaper would be an important factor, but that you were the one for the job. That with the right, ah, guidance--"

  "Guidance? You mean, manipulation don't you? You were never interested in being a trader, but you knew I'd just bought a ship and you came up with that idea as a way to stop me leaving. You brought me gifts to make my quarters homely. You encouraged me to see Chervaz. I know what you were doing, Wixa. You wanted to tie me to the station, make me think of it as home. Make me love it, as you do."

  "Is that so wrong?" Wixa demanded, some of the flash in her eyes coming back. "Should I have let you wander off looking for the ‘High Committee'?" She sneered the name a little, just as Bara had. "They'll come here eventually, and maybe after they've gone, you'll be gone with them. You and the rest of the drifties. And all us old lifers can go back to the way things were."

  "Drinking coffee all day? Holding cat club meetings?"

  "Why not? We've all done our time, risked our lives. We deserve peace. That's all we've been looking for, peace."

  "And so you recruited me to fight your battle for you. You tried to make me want to fight, tried to reprogram me, as if I was your damn robot cat!"

  "No!" Wixa shouted back at her. "No. I never thought of you that way. But I could see you were… Hurt. Retreating. You needed help to find your strength again. And in the end, I just wanted to do that because I was your friend, whether you wanted to fight or not!"

  Wixa flopped back in her seat and Maiga stared as she rubbed a hand across her face to wipe away tears that had started down her cheeks. More manipulation? Faking? Or was she sincere? Did she really see Maiga as a friend, whichever path Maiga chose?

  And it mattered, she realised. When she'd thought about leaving before, seemed so long ago now, she'd thought of taking Wixa with her. Couldn't imagine leaving her behind. Of course she'd thought of taking Chervaz too. Things changed.

  "It's our stop," Wixa said, looking up, and then wiping her nose on her sleeve. She looked embarrassed about her display of emotion. The train slowed and they got off. As they left the platform Wixa spoke quietly.

  "Have you decided?"

  "I still need some time alone, to think about it."

  "Okay. I'll see you in the morning?"

  "Yes."

  Wixa left her, moving away slowly and looking back often, as if afraid to take her eyes off Maiga, in case she simply disappeared. When she was out of sight Maiga walked off slowly herself. Her Snapper chirped in her pocket and she dug it out, to find an automated message sent from her terminal in her quarters, from the alert she had set up there. The Trebuchet had left the station.

  Long ago, she had hacked into the traffic control system and left a bit of code to flag the Trebuchet's comings and goings. And didn't that prove that she had already decided to fight?

  But what did it matter now? She kept her head down as she walked, but knew people were staring. Perhaps they'd calm down soon, and she'd vanish into the crowd again. Or perhaps she'd spend her days looking over her shoulder. She'd done that for too long.

  She reached the Circuit, and began to walk, where she normally ran. The tall windows kept her attention as usual, the stars beyond them. Somewhere out there lay a new home. If Wixa and Gry wanted to live out their lives in this metal box that was their choice. But Maiga wanted to live under the sky again.

  She thought for a moment about the planet where they'd foun
d Max. Perhaps that resort Wixa mentioned was a good idea after all. A delightful garden spot.

  Max. She wondered how he was getting on. He's started working in one of the factories, he'd told her a few days ago when they'd run into each other. Hard work perhaps, he looked tired, as if he didn't sleep well.

  Was it thoughts like that which made her different from, and incompatible with Wixa and Gry? She related to Max as a man. She noticed his tiredness and that he'd cut his hair regulation short. And to her these weren't just little facts to file in a mental database for analysis. She might not be sentimental or soft hearted at all, but at least she related to people, however awkwardly. They weren't puppets to her.

  She stopped now and gazed out of the window. This was the place she'd stood with Chervaz, before they'd gone back to his quarters and made love for the first time. He'd reminded her of Ilyan sometimes and she'd chided herself for comparing the two all the time. But they had similar opinions on some matters. Something Ilyan had told her once, that she felt certain Chervaz would relate to, came to her mind, the words of an ancient sage.

  ‘All that is necessary for evil to triumph is that good men do nothing.'

  Good women too.

  Long ago it seemed now, she'd chosen to stand by Ilyan and fight the most powerful opponent she could imagine, High Command. In comparison, Bara was a mere inconvenience. A mouse scratching at the floorboards. Maiga smiled.

  And when you have a mouse, then what you need is a cat.

  Chapter 31

  Wixa didn't call Maiga in the morning. She wanted to hear the answer from her, see her face, and be ready to argue with her if she had to.

  So she stood at the door of Maiga's quarters and leaned on the buzzer. No answer. Well, still early, she may still be in bed. Wixa kept on buzzing. If Maiga was in bed she soon wouldn't be. And she'd be mad. And she still wasn't answering.

  Wixa frowned and took out her Snapper. She brought up one of her own special programs on it and transmitted a signal at the door's electronic lock.

  The lock exploded.

  After a moment Wixa stopped cowering against the wall on the other side of the corridor and glared at the door. Okay, that was not funny. Probably not aimed at her specifically though; Maiga must have anti-tamper devices implanted in the lock, she's no fool. And, Wixa concluded, she's probably not in there, since she hadn't come running when her lock became a shower of sparks. Unless she was waiting, with a gun aimed at the door.

  Right. Right. Wixa tapped some instructions into her Snapper as she walked away. She found a small café in the tiny square of shops in the middle of this floor of accommodation blocks, and sat watching her Snapper. A moving image showed on it, of metal walls, dust and darkness pierced with grid shadowed patches of light at intervals. No sound.

  Glyph moved through the air vents until he reached one in Maiga's quarters. Wixa saw through his eyes into the dark room, his night vision engaged. The place was always neat as a pin of course, but now more so. On a table, which squared up perfectly with the sofa, sat a small collection of things. The plant Wixa gave Maiga. The throw for the sofa, folded into a neat square. Pictures from the walls.

  Tears pricked Wixa's eyes again, and she tried to resist them. Unthinkable for her to weep twice in two days. She sent Glyph to look into the bedroom and bathroom, but as expected found them also dark and empty.

  Wixa called Gry. On a channel nobody else monitoring the comms on the station could tap in to. Paranoia was less a disease and more a survival trait around here. Despite talk of showering in the dark she was pretty certain Gry had no cameras in anyone's private quarters, mostly as she'd threatened to kick his arse up and down the length of the station if he even thought about it. So he didn't know Maiga's quarters stood bare and empty.

  "We failed," Wixa said. "She's gone."

  "Yes," Gry said. "The Friss left at three in the morning."

  "But I have the Friss flagged in the traffic control computer," Wixa said. "I'd have got an alert."

  "She's not an amateur, Wixa. And maybe you're getting rusty."

  She felt rusty. As if her joints were seizing up. And she wanted to weep again. Not for herself now, but for the station. For Jimmy.

  "Why didn't you call?" she asked him.

  "I didn't want to wake you."

  "You think that I was sleeping?"

  "Then I didn't think there was much point."

  No. Not much point to anything anymore. End of days.

  "We failed," Wixa said again.

  "You know something. I'm not so sure."

  Wixa raised an eyebrow. He sounded happier than she expected.

  "Do you know something I don't?"

  "An almost infinite amount I'm sure, my pupil. But this time… It's just a feeling."

  So, a madman had a feeling things were going to turn out all right? Well, what had she been worried about?

  ~o~

  Maiga checked her scanners. She checked her course and made some minor adjustments.

  She waited.

  She made herself a sandwich. She listened to some music. She lay on her bunk and felt sorry for herself for a while, then got up and did fifty push-ups. She showered.

  And she waited.

  The ship moved along at a good rate. A steady pace it could hold for weeks with the power packs Maiga had brought along. All she needed to do was make course corrections and then figure out what to do with the rest of the twenty three hours and fifty-five minutes of the day.

  The waiting ended two days out of Hollow Jimmy, when she was sitting in the cockpit, drinking tea and watching the stars. The scanner told her what was coming. Trying to escape would be useless.

  She waited.

  A moment later the stars in front of her shimmered and were blocked as a ship dropped out of light speed and into normal space. It hovered over the Friss like a hawk about to stoop on a helpless rodent in the grass. The distorted lines of the ship identified it at once.

  The Trebuchet.

  Maiga smiled.

  "Well, hello, little mousey."

  Chapter 32

  "Bring her to the bridge," Bara ordered after the Trebuchet's tractor beam brought the Friss into the shuttle bay. Maiga had made no attempt to resist and Bara was glad of that. She didn't want to kill the woman. What good is that? A dead opponent doesn't know they are beaten.

  She stood up from her chair, and paced behind the pilot's station. Part of her had started to feel bad about what she'd done to Maiga, revealing her identity. She must have had her own reasons for keeping it secret. It didn't mean she didn't respect the Prophet. And thinking of him made her regret it even more. He'd trusted her and the Prophet couldn't have been wrong, could he?

  Putting a hand on the back of the pilot's chair, she watched the stars ahead for a while. They soothed her, smoothed away the agitation. How could a victory feel so hollow? How could it taste so sour? And who is making that sound?

  "Whoever the hell is tapping like that, stop it right the hell now!"

  The soft voices of the bridge crew stilled as she shouted. They stiffened in their chairs and some turned to look at her. The tapping stopped. For now. But it kept coming back. Somebody was playing games, trying to make her crazy.

  Ah, here we are. She turned as the doors hissed open and couple of marines walked in, Maiga between them. Oh for… They had her cuffed! The idiots. Did she order that? Did anyone hear her order that?

  "Release her!" Bara snapped at once gesturing at the cuffs and scowling at the marines. One of them unlocked the cuffs while both of them blushed and averted their eyes under her glare of displeasure. Rubbing her freed wrists, Maiga looked around. Only briefly. She'd seen the bridge before.

  "Welcome aboard, Maiga," Bara said, bowing her head. She felt an absurd urge to salute. Absurd. She was in command here. But Maiga had an air of confidence and authority about her that disconcerted Bara. She'd expected defeat, or anger, or despair. Not this cool and quiet demeanour, more suited to someone who'
d just come home.

  "You don't mind if I call you Maiga, do you?" Her smile felt unworthy, more smug than she believed herself to be. Gloating is not attractive. "As you know, only one person on board a ship is called Captain."

  "Of course," Maiga said. "I'd hate for there to be any confusion over who is in control here."

  Bara narrowed her eyes. What the hell did that mean? And someone was tapping again and she would have to kick some ass very soon. Sev wasn't on the bridge, or she'd know for sure it was him. Unless he was somehow piping in the sound from engineering. The others could hear it, they just pretended not to. She broke herself out of the spiral of her thoughts, stopped them pulling her down like a whirlpool.

  "Maiga, I think this has gone far enough, don't you? I never intended for us to be enemies."

  Maiga nodded, and then started to stroll around the bridge glancing at readouts and displays.

  "I never asked to be your enemy, Captain. But if you will beat friends of mine nearly to death I'm afraid I find that a little provocative."

  "I am sorry about what my men did, but they are paying for their crime."

  "Don't treat me like a fool." Maiga stopped, quite close to Bara, the marines standing close behind her.

  She judged the distance perfectly, Bara thought. A step closer and they'd have dropped her. A step further back and she appeared afraid of me. And she doesn't fall for my spiel. Even the newspaper man seemed to be a little taken in by it. But she doesn't buy it for a moment.

  For a second, just a second, a tiny scrap of fear tapped at her mind, in rhythm to that damn tapping. For a second, just a second, a voice spoke inside her. Her real voice. Not the captain's. Not the seductress's. Just Bara's.

  I may have bitten off more than I can chew.

  Tap. Tap. Tap. She would not yell in front of Maiga. Would not appear out of control. But someone was going to get some very nasty punishment duty as soon as the prisoner left the bridge.

  Prisoner. Oh she hated to think of Maiga that way. This one should not be an enemy. What an ally she would make. And I am not afraid of her. I am not afraid of that tiny smile she's wearing. The one that suggested she was watching a small child strutting around in its mother's uniform, playing at soldiers.