Transmuted (Dark Landing Series Book 1)

by Robin Praytor

  “There’s not much to see but brown robes. Their faces are hidden by hoods, but they must lower them to eat.”

  Letty spent the afternoon reviewing her dad’s data vials for more clues, while Drew tried unsuccessfully to find the source of her EMU malfunction. Neither of them had mentioned his bout of panic during their walk to the Temperance, but she could tell by his manner he was brooding over it. Failing to uncover anything new, she still had several files to go through by dinnertime.

  Only one of the continuing passengers (who appeared to be acquainted with a crew member) ate in the crew mess as well. No monks. She would take breakfast in the passenger mess in the morning. The Temperance didn’t offer room service, so the monks had to show some time.

  On a bulkhead just outside the mess hall, a row of hooks held an assortment of hats, jackets, and aprons that crew members had hung up on their way to dinner. As she passed, she grabbed a black, stiff-billed cap with a soft crown worn close to the skull. The caps were common among the crew.

  In their quarters, she handed Drew a meal container from the mess buffet, a water pouch, and the hat.

  “Thanks,” Drew said.

  “You can eat in the crew’s mess. No one there would recognize you. You’re going to go stir-crazy if you can’t leave this cabin.”

  She went to her bedroom and returned with a brown sweater. “I brought along Dad’s favorite cardigan. I’ve been trying to get rid of it for years and must have bought him a half-dozen replacements. He would never give it up. It’s stretched out and has holes. With the sweater and hat you’ll look like a crew member. The other passengers should ignore you. As long as you avoid the Greensteins, you’ll be okay.”

  Drew put on the cap, adjusting it at a rakish angle so the brim cast a shadow across his forehead and one eye. He flashed a boyish grin. The dark cap made his eyes an even deeper green than usual.

  He knows he’s adorable, Letty thought. “Just stay away from the hookers,” she said.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’re just their type.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way, but . . . you’re cute . . . cute-ish anyway. If you’re passing a woman, keep your head down and don’t look at her.”

  “Why, Miss Taleen, that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be nice.” She turned abruptly to hide her smile and headed to her bedroom. “I’m going to scan the rest of Dad’s files then hit my bunk early. See you in the morning.”

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  Drew reached for his blaster on the table next to his bed, realizing instantaneously that there was no table and that it was Letty standing by his bedside.

  “Wake up!”

  “Why? What?” His head cleared, and he remembered where he was. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. It’s the hookers!”

  He relaxed and tried to make sense of what she was saying. “The hookers aren’t here, Letty. You may think I’m their type, but I guarantee they’re not mine. On second thought, if you want, I could probably invite them—”

  “Idiot! The hookers are the monks.”

  “The hookers are with the monks?”

  “No. Listen carefully, Drew. The hookers . . . are . . . the monks.”

  “The hookers are the monks? The hookers . . . are . . . the monks. The hookers are the monks!”

  “One more time and maybe you’ll get it.”

  “Come to think of it, I’ve never seen their faces or any other part of their bodies, and—”

  “Here it comes.”

  “Ho-ly shit!”

  “Right.”

  Chapter 20: Bin

  Drew wore his chinos, George Speller’s ratty brown cardigan, and the crewman’s cap Letty had swiped pulled low on his forehead. Letty figured no one would recognize him from a casual glance. He hunched his shoulders slightly and turned to one side to present a profile view. He’d let his beard grow the last three days. The dark shadow completed his scruffy appearance.

  She appraised him carefully. “Don’t look anyone in the eyes and mumble a little if you have to speak, and I think you’re good. At least for meals in the crew mess. Going down to Bin is pushing it, though.”

  “I just want a quick look-see.”

  “Yeah, well, this isn’t a site-seeing trip. Anyway, you should stay here and keep your eye on the hookers.”

  “The hooker monks aren’t going anywhere. I checked with the purser and there’s only one other passenger going down with us, a biochemist by the name of Cooker . . . er . . . Crocker. I’ve never heard of him. If he’s the same scientist-guy you pointed out on the orientation feed, I’ve never seen him before, either.”

  “That doesn’t mean he won’t know who you are. He wasn’t a passenger on the trip from Earth, so he had to come from the station. And can you please stop saying ‘hooker monks’? It sounds like the title to a theological porn vid.”

  “I’ve met all of the scientists stationed on Dark Landing,” Drew said. “It’s more likely he transferred to the Temperance from another ship. Anyway, Crocker is getting off at Bin. If he recognizes me, I’ll just say I’m on holiday. And, ‘prostitutes disguised as monks’ is too long. ‘Hooker monks’ says it all.”

  Letty shrugged, abandoning her effort to modify Drew’s terminology. “How would you explain using an alias and the disguise?”

  “You’re over-thinking this. It’s not like I’m wearing a wig and fake mustache. Everything will be fine. Besides, I’ve never been on an Alliance planet except Earth. I don’t want to miss the opportunity.”

  Other than the Bahdaneians and, to a lesser extent, the Fahdeens, their distant relatives, Earth citizens rarely made physical contact with aliens. Only scientists and the occasional capitalist might venture beyond an alien planet’s arrival and departure lounges.

  She knew it was a wasted effort, but Letty tried to dissuade him from making the side trip anyway. “Well, except for the view from the Earth lounge, you aren’t going to see much. If you want to interact with a real, live Bindian, you’ll have to do it through an invisiwall.”

  “Have you met a Bindian before?”

  “I spent a month with them. Taleen Industries has trade partnerships with several Bindian enterprises. We’ve hired and trained two legions of Bindian security personnel there as well.”

  She downplayed the experience. “They look like all the vids you’ve seen: squat, big-jointed, with shiny exoskeletons. Most people don’t know they can stand upright if they want to, but it’s a sign of aggression. Even standing, the tallest wouldn’t be over four feet. The difference between Bin and Earth gravity is brutal. I had to wear an anti-g suit whenever I left the controlled Earth environment,” Letty said.

  “I’m only going in order to contact the ETOC and my assistant and fill them in about . . . everything. With Curtis’s friend knowing who we are, our quarters may not be secure.” She raised her voice for the last so if someone was listening, they’d know she was on to them.

  Drew laughed. “I’m sure Muck or Fitz has already informed your company and the local authorities about events,” he said. “I’m curious to know where everyone thinks you are, though. You’re sure you can trust your assistant?”

  “Yes, and with your life as well as mine.”

  “I wish I felt as certain. What time is it? We don’t want to cut boarding too close.”

  “We can head there now.” Letty started to pull her travel poncho on then, remembering her current identity, reached for her suit jacket instead.

  The passenger lift was empty going down. When the doors opened onto the shuttle bay, two of the hooker monks stood a few feet from them, chatting coquettishly with Dr. Crocker.

  The three turned at Drew and Letty’s arrival. From their expressions, there was no doubt in Letty’s mind that the ladies not only recognized Drew, but were surprised to see him.

  Before any words could be ex
changed, the pilot appeared around the shuttle bow. “All aboard that’s going down.” He looked startled to see a group of five people. “I’m sorry. I was told there would only be three passengers. The way the freight’s been distributed there’s no extra seating. If there’s been a mix up—”

  “No worries, hon,” the bustier of the two women said. “We were just saying goodbye to the doctor.” She smiled and leaned closer to Dr. Crocker. “Too bad you’re not going all the way with us, sweetie.”

  Crocker had the decency to blush at her innuendo and uttered a hasty “Goodbye” as he stepped backwards through the shuttle hatch, tripping on the lower lip and catching himself awkwardly.

  Letty fought the urge to turn around and get back on the lift, but allowed Drew to usher her past the ladies and onto the shuttle. The women watched with tight smiles.

  Their seats lay just inside the opened hatch, and Letty heard the two speaking in low tones as she and Drew strapped in. She couldn’t make out what they said before the pilot directed them off the shuttle bay, but she heard the word “contact” and “react”—or maybe “deact”—but it made no sense without context. Letty looked at Drew questioningly. She wanted to ask if he’d heard anything, but he shook his head slightly to indicate not now.

  Crocker sat opposite them across a wide aisle. A row of chin-high crates down its center separated them, making casual conversation difficult. Crocker, seemingly still embarrassed, avoided eye contact.

  The pilot entered the control cabin by the forward hatch, closing it as well as the one next to their seats. The shuttle bay depressurized, lights on the pilot’s control panel flashed, and the bay doors rumbled and opened to space. As they moved out, Letty looked at Drew. He swallowed hard. His knuckles shone white on the hand grasping the armrest between them. Letty had suspected as much before, but since the EVA episode, she felt certain. Drew was more than just nervous walking in space; he was terrified of space in general. What the hell is he doing in charge of a space station?

  Crocker was evidently expected, disappearing from the Earth lounge through a side hatch immediately upon arrival.

  Along with environmental obstacles, the fear of disease inhibited close contact between alien races and demanded lengthy quarantine, both upon arrival on an alien planet and return to the home world. Alliance planets were required to provide environmentally compatible lounges and short-stay quarters for member visitors. Non-aligned planets proved far less accommodating. If there was a need for an extended stay on any alien world or colony, Muck regulations dictated the visitor must obtain prior approval from both the home and host authorities.

  Drew and Letty split up. Drew headed toward the transparent enclosure where a Bindian sat crab-like on a carpeted platform. This put him—or her, Letty could never tell with certainty—close to eye level with most humans.

  She nodded toward the Bindian as she passed, her head tilted at the proper angle to denote respect but not esteem. Bindians who worked in the alien arrival lounges did so as punishment for minor offenses. To them, casual conversation and personal questions were an insult, to which they would often respond by asking about the visitor’s mother, an even greater insult.

  She sought the furthest lounger. It took twenty minutes to open a clear connection to the ETOC. Rostenkowski was out of the office, so she left her a message: Contact me on the freighter, Temperance. I’m not feeling well. I caught a virus on Dark Landing. It’s spreading fast there.

  Her transmission to San Francisco found more success. Stephen, her senior assistant, took it in Rebecca Richards’s private office.

  Without the usual salutations, Letty asked, “Stephen, you’ve learned about Mr. Speller?”

  “Yes. I’m at a loss for words . . . Tina.” He obviously wanted to offer his condolences and express his own feelings of loss, but he upheld her Tina Kingsbury cover.

  “I understand. It could be awhile before I make it back. We’re on Bin now and soon we’ll be dropping in on two of our mining operations near the Schwarzschild Cluster. Everything all right with you guys?”

  “As all right as possible under the circumstances. Evans has stepped up, and we’re grateful to have a steady hand on the tiller.” Carl Evans was Taleen Industries CFO and next in the line of succession. “You said ‘we’?” Stephen asked, with an arched eyebrow.

  “Yes, I’m traveling with David Jacobs our V.P. of Interstellar Promotions for this quadrant. I believe you may need to update my itinerary. I’m not sure where you show me right now.”

  “We understood you were at Dark Landing working on a delicate project involving Muck.”

  “Another commitment made it impossible for me to accept that assignment. Please have Mr. Evans extend the company’s apologies. Perhaps the head of legal could work with Muck in my absence?” Letty wanted her legal office to pave the way, in case she wound up being questioned by MCTT.

  “Of course; I’ll see to it. I can’t imagine what Miss Taleen is going through right now. Mr. Evans is eager to speak with her about arrangements but, understandably, she’s been in seclusion.” Evans had never met Katherine Leticia Taleen as far as he knew. Though he’d worked with “Rebecca Richards,” George Speller’s assistant, for several years. He must have been shocked when he learned Rebecca’s true identity.

  “Under the circumstance, I believe she would prefer Mr. Evans and you handle the necessary arrangements.”

  “Yes . . . certainly. Do you have any suggestions for an appropriate service?”

  “Whatever Evans decides will be appropriate. I’m very sorry I can’t attend. Even if I headed back today, I’m over a month out. Leaving now is impossible regardless.”

  “I see. I have a bit of other business if you don’t mind?” Stephen said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Secretary Rostenkowski of the ETOC has been trying to reach you. She asked me to tell you the recent tech schematics you provided are very similar to schematics she received from Camdu, and she needs to speak with you personally about supporting documentation. Is there anyone else I can refer her to?”

  “No. I tried to reach her before I contacted you, but she was unavailable. I left her a message. Please tap her and, if she and I haven’t already spoken, ask her to be available in five days—that would be Sunday my time—for a transmission from the Resolution Mine on Caffrey. Anything else?”

  “No, everything’s being handled. I wish you could be here with us.”

  “So do I, Stephen. I miss you all. Please give Mr. Evans my best. Tell him Taleen Industries is very fortunate to have someone with such commitment and passion in charge. I’ll talk to you again as soon as I’m able. Use your best judgement about telling people where I am. Goodbye.” Letty broke the connection. She couldn’t be there for Dad’s memorial service but, if possible, she would accompany him back to Earth and arrange a proper funeral.

  Letty shared her and Stephen’s conversation and Rostenkowski’s enigmatic message with Drew on the way back to the Temperance. “I don’t know what to make of it,” she ended.

  “It sounds like one of your desk units with hacker nanoids may have wound up on Camdu. Do you trade tech with them?”

  “We barter tech with all Alliance members, but we’ve located and updated every processor desk out there and none were on Camdu.” She sighed. “There’s no point guessing. We won’t learn anything until I talk to Rostenkowski.” Noticing Drew had made a purchase in the Bindian gift shop, she asked, “What’s in the package?”

  “A stuffed Bindian.” He pulled it out. “See, its pronotum plate has the Bin emblem on it.”

  “You collect stuffed characters?” Sometimes Drew Cutter was outright baffling.

  “No. It’s a gift. One of my security staffers just had a baby.”

  “Ah, that’s thoughtful of you. So, how was your first encounter with a Bindian?” she asked archly.

  “Great! It was interesting. He answered all my questions about himself and his life on Bin. Though, I got the fe
eling the translator unit wasn’t always accurate. He seemed eager to learn about my family too, particularly my mother.”

  “Really?” Letty pinched off her smile, and turned to look out the shuttle port.

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  Drew was sitting on his bunk, still working on Letty’s EMU, when the monitor chimed in the lounge area. Letty answered the chime before he could get there. He stepped to his open door to see who it was.

  “Transmission External Relay to: Tina Kingsbury, Passenger, Temperance Freight Carrier, Regristry-RMD5H2. From: Earth, Oregon, San Francisco, Taleen Security Force, Commander Travis Barnes. Will you accept transmission?”

  “Yes,” Letty said.

  The same man who’d been standing next to Letty in the graduation picture on her father’s data vial appeared on the screen.

  “Le—Tina? Jesus, I’ve been so worried about you. Don’t be mad; Stephen told me how I could reach you. I’ve been going crazy, honey. I’m so sorry about George. Are you okay? I hate it that you’re there all alone.”

  “I’m doing okay, Travis. It’s good to see you. I told Stephen he could share my whereabouts. It’s just been so crazy here. I guess everyone knows?”

  “Yeah, and it finally made the news. We’re all devastated. I . . . I can’t believe it. I won’t ask for details now. When are you coming back?”

  “I don’t know. It could be a while—weeks, maybe a couple months. I’m bringing him home and we’ll have a private service.” Her voice waivered, but she maintained control.

  “What on earth were you two doing all the way out . . . never mind. I’m sorry. I just wish I could be there for you, or Stephen. One of us anyway.” Travis looked past Letty and spotted Drew in the doorway. “Who’s that?”

  Letty glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, Drew, c’mere. Travis, this is Drew Cutter, Chief of Security on Dark Landing . . . oh—shoot! I mean—”

  Drew cut her off. “Nice to meet you, Travis.”

  “Yeah, good meeting you, too.”