by Caldon Mull
“Put the cheque to our rooms, please. You know who we are.” she smiled as the man nodded, then she lead Esteban outside into the bustle of the deck.
“A contract is a contract,” Esteban whispered as they strolled towards the Promenade square. “is just a contract.”
“Is a contract.” The Doctor found a stone bench around a faux-stone carved fountain, “Esteban I am a med-mech, I know all about contracts. There is nothing sacred about the human body anymore, we’re tweaking it, adding to it, replacing it... whether it’s metal, or graphene or in synthetic flesh.
“We’re adding useful skills and we are selling them to the highest bidder. We are having the Mega-Corporations marshaling our expertise and trading products with other corporate collectives... there’s no mystery left.”
“We are the commodities and we need to do what we can to make ourselves useful.” Esteban nodded, still holding her hand.
“Esteban, I can tell you honestly that I don’t know where your head is.” she gently retrieved her hand.
“That’s because you’re my med-tech, not my shrink.” Esteban clasped his hands between his knees and stared at the faux-cobblestones.
“Yes, my contract is to guard your body from harm,” the corner of her mouth quirked, “not anything else. A contract is...”
“A contract, is a contract...” Esteban sighed and leaned back, “Do you even like me, Doctor?”
“You’re not really my type, Esteban.” she shrugged.
“What? More a clock than a human...” Esteban groaned.
“Not that... more male than female.”
“Oh... ?” Esteban blinked in confusion, “Ooooh... so that’s why there’s no kids!”
“Apparently I’m more competitive in our Group’s leadership roles than I should be. It’s not that I want to be treated ‘special’, Esteban. To your point earlier, I want to be treated like me. Nothing more.”
“I’m...” Esteban began.
“... insensitive? Self-absorbed? Volatile, impulsive...?” The Doctor grinned.
“I was going to say ‘sorry’,” Esteban grinned back, “but you covered it nicely, I think.”
“I think so too, not the traits of a clock or a doll or any thing.” The Doctor looked away at the Promenade with it’s throng of gently strolling young people. She registered some surprise at the number of women gathered, about one in three. Cadiz Promenades was seldom more than one in seven.
“So Pele wanted me to let people know I’m here, so I should at least go out tonight. Are you keen to come with?” Esteban followed her gaze.
“Where-ever you go, I go.” The Doctor fidgeted her hands in her lap, “That’s the contract.”
“There’s something I need to do, and there’s something I’d like to do.” Esteban stood and started to walk, “So I’m going to do it.”
“You are an impossible cunt sometimes, you know that?” she trotted to catch up with him.
“Part of my charm, Doctor.” Esteban shrugged, “A charm that is, apparently, wasted on you.”
#
When Esteban realized he couldn’t shake the Doctor, he slowed his annoyed pace and they walked together to the taxi pods and beyond that route, down the crowded decks the transport deposited them. Gang-tags in fluorescent dye tagged the entrances to side-shoot alleys as he meandered down the lanes, when he noticed the Doctor becoming more agitated with each step. “It’s okay,” he whispered to her, “I have some cred here, it’s where I’m from.” She nodded at him, but didn’t say anything, so Esteban continued his journey until it lead to a door in a hive-street in an alley that was more luminescent tags than any other color.
Esteban rapped at the door in a special way and whispered to the speaker next to it, “Mama, es Esteban...”
Esteban waited longer than was necessary, the door finally slid open and they stepped inside. Esteban stooped to get inside and stayed stooped as he lead her up a low ceiling-staircase, bent almost double.
A woman waited for them upstairs, dressed all in black with daubs of white lace at her wrists and throat. Her hair was tied back in a severe bun and the lines of her face and at her throat appeared to be etched into her skin.
“Oh, boy is she in a mood...” Esteban silently beseeched invisible powers as he kissed his mother’s offered cheek, gestured to The Doctor and made the introductions, “Mother, this is Doctor da Silva; Doctor, this in Senora Evita Perez.”
“Senora, pleased to meet you.” The Doctor ducked in a short courtesy.
“I am pleased to meet you, Doctor.” Evita pulled up a chair for her, “What are you doing with this one here?”
“We’re working together for a time.” She pulled up a chair and perched next to the Senora.
“Oh.” Evita’s face fell, as she poured a mint tea for The Doctor and pushed a plate of ginger shortbread biscuits over the table.” “I’m sure he will disappoint you as well.”
Esteban cleared his throat, pulling a low bench towards the table. His knees scraped the underside of the tabletop.
Esteban sipped at the tea, and nibbled at a biscuit. “Have you heard from father? Kept up with any news since I moved to Cadiz?”
“Ramon still stops in once a week to visit. He’s the only one of your friends that has kept in touch since…,” she waved a hand in his direction, “my boy abandoned his family and his friends.”
“Mama, we’ve been through this before. Every time I stop over in fact. If Papa and I hadn’t taken contracts, we would never have been able to come to Mars. Cartagena would never have joined the fleet, we needed the skills to keep us alive on the trip over.”
“And you threw away everything we have been for hundreds of years, our culture, our way of life…”
“… Is gone, mama. All of the life we had on Earth before The Ebb, all of the InSystems we crafted to keep us through the Plagues to stay on Earth… is gone.
“So is my family. It was my husbands duty to provide for us. It was your duty to make sure he has another family to come back to. One of your own.”
“Mama… I like being the me I am now. Not all of it, but…” Esteban sighed, “Okay mama, I’m going to go now. I will stop by again, maybe Easter. Maybe next time we could just talk. Maybe next time we could just talk; maybe about something different… just talk to me”
“Do what you want, Esteban.” Evita picked up lace bobbins, “You always do.”
Esteban snorted in exasperation, stood in the cramped space and stomped towards the door. “See you at Easter, mama. Take care.”
Evita shrugged and said “It was nice to meet you Doctor da Silva.”
“And you too, Senora Perez.” The Doctor nodded as Esteban squeezed down the staircase, “Thank you for the tea.” and started after him.
“He will break your heart, doctor.” Evita said softly from her lace bobbins, “It’s what he does best.”
“Not mine, Senora.” She smiled at the woman. “All I care about is that he’s safe while he’s with me.”
Esteban waited for the doctor outside the quarters, staring at the narrow parts of the level. The cramped houses nestled along the narrow faux-cobbled lanes, three storied and crowded in the lower levels, the poor levels. “She hasn’t spent a cred of anything I’ve sent her since I left for MF1-Cadiz. Ramon says she’s waiting for my father to finish his contract before she’ll leave this house. I send him creds as well to keep an eye on her.”
“Wow, what was that about?” she looked up at Esteban, the light shimmering from his suit gave his skinweave a waxy sheen.
“We made choices.” Esteban’s lips pursed, “We weren’t rich enough for Corporate passage, Papa was an Engineer Professor at the University, Mama was in fine arts. Cartagena had dumped almost all of their Mark-2 stock to lighten the lift. The few Mark-3’s that were ready had the new anti-psychosis sculpt-masking designed for release. They assigned me the Pondsmith Mark 3 in line with the allocation I requested for the Fleet and Arcology hydrology maintenance until Mars-
fall. Papa…” Esteban trailed off.
“Where is your Father?” The Doctor fell in step as Esteban ambled down the lane.
“In the Belt.” Esteban shrugged, “He took a full body conversion Mitsubishi-96, Mark 2, one of the last of the Range. It’s all still chrome… he worked on the hulls in the flight over and other assemblies and arrays. Once we landed, we still had huge overdrafts to manage. We had to put out our contracts to all-comers.”
“MCN took up yours, what about your father?”
“A Thirty year EarthGov contract based in the Asteroid Belt.” Esteban sighed, “He maintains the Belt Orbital’s and the Ceres Dome. He has thirteen more years on his contract before he gets rehabilitated from his ‘Borg transplant. His whole body and some parts of me are in deep storage in the family freeze locker.” Esteban trudged down a narrow set of steps while the strips of LED's lighting the passage pulsed erratically, the storm beyond running juice into the inverters. An old, grubby woman sat beside a low table decked with fresh produce, sweets, booster chips and vape-sticks.
A fat brown rat scuttled behind her, unnoticed in the cobbled gutter. Esteban blinked, he’d almost forgotten that rats and pigeons were in MF3-Cartagena everywhere that humans were. The last two decades he’d been living in MF1-Cadiz and they had sparrows and cats. His twice annual visits to MF3-Cartagena weren’t frequent enough to make rats part of his cityscape once again.
Esteban selected a candy lollipop and tapped over a few extra creds from his smart-sleeve.
“Muy gracias, Esteban.” She grinned at the cred tap. “As generous as always.”
“Es nada, senora.” Esteban grinned around the candy-stick. “You make the best candy.”
“You see Doctor, the rates for EVA welding and vacuum engineering are so much better than any aquatics. If MCN didn’t pick me up and strap this horsecock on me, I’d still be looking for work. On Earth, Cartagena is now a two meters-deep bay, between the Castle on one shore and the ruined University on the other. There isn’t anyone left there to pay for work, and neither Venus nor Mars is buying for oceanography for decades yet. My best bet is for Mars first, though.”
“What’s this place?” The Doctor looked around the narrow alley and the steps leading down to a sub-level. A garish sign flickered in the alley ‘Le Petit Club Nocturno’ and smaller ones with‘danza’ and ‘cocteles’ surrounding the main logo.
“It’s my friend Ramon’s club. I always stop by when I’m here, when I need to let my hair down.”
“It looks seedy.” She sniffed, unimpressed.
“Inside is better.” Esteban shrugged, “Ramon is doing much better than it looks from out here, with what I’ve been paying him to look after my mother all these years. I have done for seventeen years.”
Esteban ducked into a covered archway as he squeezed down the cobble steps. It opened up into a wider portico, where a pair of guards waited before a large door. Esteban spread his arms as best he could while the man patted him down, “Ramon in yet?”
“Si.” Light reflected off his optic mount and his chromed cheek plate as Esteban’s suit twinkled in the shadow.
“You new here?” Esteban wiggled his hips as the bouncer plumped his groin and clicked his optics, puzzled “It’s all me, I promise.”
“Si, first week. Is this all just pinga?” The man cupped the heavy bulge, as Esteban nodded and then just shrugged to wave him past.
The female bouncer looked at The Doctor and folded her arms, “What about you?”
“I’m with him.” She shrugged.
“You looking for trouble tonight, lady?”
“No trouble. Where he goes, I go. You get how contracts go.” The Doctor stared back at the large woman, unwavering.
The beefy woman hesitated for a few seconds. “I sure do. Okay, but don’t make me regret this. Ramon and him go back a long way. He used to be the Boss’s chica. They’re still tight.”
“Does he draw any heat here?” The Doctor squeezed past to follow Esteban inside.
“Nope, he’s a pussycat. He Zonedances for a set on the private stage, catches up with the Boss, leaves early. Tonight is the annual Zonedance final.”
“No worries then, I promise.” She smiled back at the muscle.
Esteban waited for the Doctor to join him before he sauntered through the corridors with her at his side. It was still early, there weren’t many people crowding the corridors leading to the dance-floors. Esteban preferred it like this and made for the corridor that lead to the smaller venue.
The first stage was ringed by a series of bars and fake-palms, gigantic pitchers of some liquid were being handed over to patrons, crusted with what looked like sugar, resplendent with fruit of some kind and a small umbrella perched in the container.
A Rockjock was setting up his deck while the tables were slowly filling, and muted strains of the latest hob chart hit the background tracks.
Buff waiters wearing little else but a loin cloth and a cape were bussing the small round tables, their smart-fabric shimmering with images and scrolling landscape scenes from the various outposts over the solar system.
“This is the cocktail bar. If a Table can guess the place, they get a free Mojito of the 150cl size.” He grinned at the Doctor as he threaded past a waiter shimmering an icy landscape over his cloak.
“Enceladus!” he grinned at the baby-faced man.
“Nope.” The waiter smiled back, “Nice try, Esteban but you don’t get to play anymore. Ramon actually loses money with you.”
Esteban laughed, a twinge of nostalgia tugged at his gut. “I’m off my game. Is he in?”
“Yes, he’s expecting you. The usual booth.”
“What is the game?” The Doctor looked over the squad of waiters. Some of them were still scrolling images, others of them had ‘Phobos’ and ‘Triton’ and ‘Venus’ labeled over their images as they ran their Tables.
“You guess right, you get a free cocktail and that’s the name of your waiter for the evening.” Esteban tapped on the door to the private section. “It never gets old, every time you come here you can have someone different waiting on you. The cocktails shuttle and reset when everyone is allocated a name. Over there you can see the sign that a Steelworks is next up.”
“Like a booze-bingo.” she laughed. “Except all the booze is from potato and sugar-beet.”
“It’s pretty good for what it is, not like that synth-choo that you guys have.” Esteban nodded as the door opened for them. “It’s exactly that. It’s also a way to downsize rationing, get people used to what we had when we crossed to planet-fall on Mars. Getting people used to what we have, when we have it. Ramon is clever that way.”
Esteban lead her through the doorway. “This is the second dance floor, where other types of customers come. To be more themselves. You need a ticket to get in here. I booked before we left MF1-Cadiz. It was part of Pele’s plan to cover our tracks.”
The Doctor nodded and followed Esteban down a narrower corridor to where it opened up into a smaller space. Instead of the dance floor surrounded by bars, this one had booths surrounding it and only a single bar at the far end.
Esteban headed for a booth where a movie-star handsome man waited, his shaven head flickering with mood tattoos. He looked up as they approached, and stood to invite them into the booth.
“Hola guapo, muy Buena’s.” He reached up to Esteban and tugged his face down for a kiss on the lips.
“Hola papi chulo, Buena’s Noches.” Esteban smiled and leaned into what became a smoldering kiss.
“You’re looking good, the style suits you.” Esteban whispered as he finally pulled away.
“You too.” Ramon patted Esteban on the haunch, “Mighty fine, like a prize stallion. Are you even bigger than last time? I didn’t think you could do that.”
“Si, but I can’t do that by myself. I had help.” Esteban turned and gestured to the doctor, “Ramon, this is Doctor da Silva.”
“So, Doctor Senora da Silva, how are you wi
th this one?” Ramon’s smile slipped momentarily.
“I’m his contracted Doctor and I take care of his body.” She looked over at Esteban. “I’m monitoring a treatment.”
“Nothing special?” Ramon smiled at Esteban, “Perhaps the prospect of a rom-”
“Not like that, no.” the Doctor shook her head.
“Pity…” Ramon shrugged and clicked his fingers at the barman. A clock walked to where the barman started to assemble a drinks order. “Come sit with me. Tell me what you’re doing. You pick a fine storm to visit this time.”
Esteban waited for the Doctor to seat and shift before he sank against the bench and stretched out his legs under the table, “One day perhaps, I’ll be standing on the beach outside telling you about a storm like this. Not yet, but one day.”
“One day soon.” Ramon smiled, “It’s always been your dream. So what’s news?”
“Nothing much, I stopped in by mother.” Esteban sighed, “Still the same. How about you?”
“Graciela is pregnant again.” Ramon shrugged, looking smug. “Another girl.”
“That’s three in a row!” Esteban whistled low and pointed at Ramon’s lap, “Those are golden balls, right there.”
“It’s a pity you didn’t keep yours.” Ramon grinned, “Mamacita would still be talking to you if you had.”
“They had no place on this model. It is what it is.” Esteban sighed, “But… three…? You’re going to be married into all sorts of influence before long.”
“I guess so, papito. I have all sorts of people wanting to talk to me about my marriage plans for them. Some even from the upper levels, we’ll just see what the girls have to say about it when the time comes.” Ramon looked up at the door as people filed in and sat at booths, “Near full house for tonight’s show. You want in?”