Finder

by Suzanne Palmer

  “Not if there wasn’t air,” she said. “And air means the door has sealed. Do you think the bay has fire suppression?”

  “No,” Fergus said through gritted teeth, working to unbuckle his harness as quickly as he could, “I don’t imagine it has working fire suppression. Weren’t you looking at this place as we flew in?”

  Mari was freeing herself from her own pod couch. “Good point,” she said.

  He reached for the canopy control, his palm tingling again. Punching the button, he took a defiantly optimistic breath as the pod canopy unsealed.

  Well, we’re not already dead, he thought. That’s probably good.

  Hauling himself out of the pod, he vaulted into the bay space. On the walls a series of Safety Is For You! posters, Crossroads Security proclamations, and flyers from everyone from Humans First to the Singularity League burned and smoldered, sending little ashlets of flame out into the room around them. Fergus decided he was better off not knowing what flammable organic substance they’d been printed on this far from anyplace that had ever even imagined such a thing as a tree. Certainly the odor of the smoke was . . . earthy.

  Unlike e-paper and anything else not nailed down and guarded here, maybe the main utility of such paper was people’s disinclination to want to steal it.

  The burning flyers were not enough to damage anything else in the bay, much less threaten the pod; by the time he and Mari got to the exit, the last ember had given its ghost up to the room.

  Mari turned up her handlight as Fergus tried to get the bay controls back online. “We need to get you a suit,” she said.

  “There won’t be one here I can afford to buy that I can also afford to trust,” he said. “Sellers in the central marketplace set prices based on how few holes they have in them.”

  “Great.”

  He gave up poking at the controls and hit the panel with the side of a fist. It flickered back to life at last. Scrolling through the settings, he enabled the bay security—such as it was—with an old aliased account of his, sufficiently disreputable for the identity to blend here.

  “‘Gord Gordon?’” Mari asked, reading over his shoulder.

  “Yeah.”

  He liked his aliases, dammit. She just rolled her eyes.

  The large docks were above them, a dozen clockwork octopus arms that, when working, connected up freighters and warships and pirate ships side by side. The rusty-walled, urine-scented corridors were deserted between their bay and the main dock floor. The security and customs post was also deserted. Mari frowned. “Is something going on?” she asked.

  Fergus shrugged. “Always. In this instance, I expect that whoever is supposed to be on duty wasn’t sober enough to drag himself here.”

  She shook her head. “This is definitely making me feel better about spending the rest of my life in Cernee.”

  They left the Sunward Dock and floated through the maze of tubes to a large hab-like structure that housed a single bar known as the Armpit. Although they’d passed almost no one on the way there, the bar itself was packed wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling. The lighting was dim, yellow-green, and strobing. A live band somewhere on the other side of the crush of humanity turned an unpleasantly claustrophobic mess into deafening chaos.

  Mari said something, pulling at Fergus’s arm, but he couldn’t hear a word. He gestured toward the back of the room and began to push and shove his way through the crowd. Where there wasn’t a convenient bar or post to use for leverage, Fergus planted a large hand against some random person and pushed off. No one seemed to mind—most were too intoxicated to notice—except for the few who’d come looking for an excuse to fight. He’d learned to spot them years ago, braced somewhere away from the bars and poles, drunken, dangerous smiles on their faces.

  Along the back of the room there were small private booths, a fake candle on each table center providing just enough light to dimly make out the people in grippy chairs within. It took him a moment to find the one he wanted. He knocked politely, and a small-framed woman with deep black skin and neon green hair unlocked the door.

  “Maha!” he said, and gave her an enthusiastic embrace.

  “Fergus,” the other woman in the booth spoke up. She leaned forward, her eyes glowing like silver-blue orbs in the candlelight, set deep in a fur-lined face.

  “Qai,” he said. “You’ve got your winter coat in.”

  The alien grinned, showing sharp teeth. “I spent a season back home on family business. It’s come in nicely, but I’ll regret it when it begins to shed. So much easier to keep short, even if I lose my stripes.”

  Mari was staring at her. “You’re not human,” she said, then shook her head. “I’m sorry, that’s rude. Of course you’re not human.”

  “So few people are,” Maha said.

  “I’m from Dzen Prime,” Qai said. “Our home system lies in a part of the galaxy that humans haven’t reached, at least so far. I am likely the only Dzenni you’ll ever meet, but I can say I’ve met many other species from all over, some known to humans and many not. Most are decent people, if always beset with their own unique quirks worth minding. Just like humans, really.” She took a sip of her steaming drink and smiled.

  “Are you drinking tea?” Mari asked.

  “Yes. Our people quite like it. So very civilized of you to invent it for us.”

  Maha raised her own glass, which glowed red like lava and had a tiny paper umbrella in it. “Not me,” she said.

  “No, not you,” Qai said. “I . . .” Her voice drifted off, and her eyes narrowed.

  “What?” Fergus asked, glancing over his shoulder at the door, seeing nothing more alarming than usual.

  “Neither of you smell right,” she said. “If my eyes were closed, I’d swear neither of you were entirely human.”

  Beside him, Mari tensed.

  “Qai, if that’s your tactful way of telling me I need a shower . . .” Fergus said.

  “Yet you are still also Fergus-scented, Fergus,” Qai finished. “Very strange. It must be the air handlers in here interfering with my senses. Or you’ve been eating very odd things.”

  “Does Celekai food count?”

  Qai laughed. “It could, and no, don’t tell me why you’d do that. I prefer to imagine it as the penultimate challenge in some weird dare-based death duel.”

  “This being Crossroads, I think we can agree smells are an especially poor choice of conversation starter,” Maha said. “Sit, you two. Fergus, you said you had something you needed to get to Mars of Sol System in fast time?”

  “Yes. Us,” he said.

  “I don’t run passenger space,” Maha said.

  “Shipping space is all we need. We come with our own pod.”

  She tilted her head toward her partner. “The Gormless?”

  “Maybe.” Qai raised a finger to her lips, chewed absently on the tip of an extended claw. “Or the Doubtful Duchess.”

  “Gormless would be faster.”

  “Duchess would be safer.”

  Fergus leaned in. “How much faster?”

  Qai and Maha exchanged glances. “Three days for the Gormless, ten or eleven for the Duchess,” Qai said.

  “It’s on a route through the Barrens,” Maha added. “A couple of the bigger Enclaves are warring, so it’s been a rough go lately. Ships get boarded, stuff gets taken.”

  Qai turned to Fergus and named a price, then added, “Duchess would cost you a third less.”

  Mari paled. “Fergus . . .” she said.

  “Gormless, then,” Fergus said. “Done.” He reached across the table and shook hands with Maha and Qai in turn.

  There was a violent crash as something slammed against the door of the booth, and all three of them were out of their seats in an instant. A short, curved blade appeared in Maha’s hand, held down close to her thigh.

  A man sp
rawled against the outside of the door left a red smear in his wake as he feebly pushed off and disappeared back into the crowd. In the distance, rising slightly higher than the rest, Fergus could see a dead-airspace squatter, cracking his knuckles and grinning.

  Maha’s knife disappeared, and Qai settled back into her seat, although the fur around her neck had bristled and Fergus could feel her long, sinuous tail twitching back and forth under the table.

  “So,” Fergus said. “Your usual account?”

  “We’ve got a new drop on Haudernelle North,” Qai said. “I’ll give you the node and deposit access number.”

  Fergus spread out his empty hands, palms up. “I lost all my personal belongings recently,” he said. “Including my pad.”

  Qai tapped two claws together. “Given what we’re charging you for the lift, I’m sure we can throw a new pad into the deal. Was it at least a fair fight?”

  Behind him there were three black triangles, waiting. “Not even close,” he said.

  “Ah. That’s too bad,” Maha said. “Drinks on us. You can tell us what you’ve been up to while we get your pod stowed, then it’s down to the docks, and we’ll get you on your way.”

  * * *

  —

  A little over an hour and a half later, Qai handed him a still-sealed handpad, Property of Guratahan Sfazil Security Service engraved on its back. As Fergus peeled off the foil and powered it on, he glanced up and caught his first good look at the giant packing crate Qai and Maha were sending them to Mars in. Their pod was already nestled securely in the center, tiedowns and expanded foam baffles holding it immobile.

  “Seriously?” he asked. “Frozen cow fetuses?”

  “Frozen medical sample cow fetuses,” Maha corrected. “See? Contagion warnings. This is a genuine Moritau Ag Guild quarantine tag. People are terrified of this shit. No one is going to want to steal you.”

  It was hard to argue with that. Pulling up a secure bank node on Titan, Fergus routed the women’s fee through it to the node they’d given him.

  Qai glanced down at the pad in her hand. “Done,” she said. “The Gormless should be ready to leave Crossroads space in about an hour. At the far end, we have crew on Ares Orbital Station Alpha to unbox you. Will you require your pod stored there?”

  “No,” Fergus said. “It’s got some sort of odd static problem. Nothing serious, but it makes me nervous. Can you sell it for me?”

  “I can. Set minimum or best price?”

  “Best price.”

  “Minus the usual commission, I’ll credit you back once it’s sold,” she said. “Unlikely, but if it doesn’t sell, we split the disposal fee twenty-eighty, pain on your side. Done?”

  “Done.”

  “Fergus, how are we going to get back home without the pod?” Mari asked.

  “We’ll have other options once we’re on Mars. Besides, once we’ve got Arelyn, the three of us won’t fit in it.”

  “Make sure you get some REM cycles along the way,” Qai added. “You’re not looking especially well.”

  Now that she said it, he wasn’t feeling too great either. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just thirsty. It’s nothing.”

  “If you say so,” Maha said. “Crew will be here soon to load you up into the ship, and we’re just waiting on departure clearance. Whoever answered at Airspace Control tried to tell me what kind of sandwich he wanted, so I’m going to go up to there and slap someone into cooperation. Qai will get you settled in.” She waved and left.

  Qai held out a hand to Mari to help her up into the crate. Mari hesitated just a moment, then took it. “Can I ask,” she said, “about what it’s like? You know, being an alien? Sorry if I’m being rude. I’ve never had a chance to talk to one before.”

  “You lot are the aliens, not I,” Qai said. “Humans are a bit of a fad back on Dzen Prime. It’s a cultural interest; your species has such wonderful contradictions that we find you a maddening puzzle.”

  “Thanks, I think,” Mari said.

  “Being a puzzle is good. It’s certainly better than being boring!” Qai said. “That’s almost a crime among my people. And speaking of boring, are you two ready for your long, dull slumber to Sol’s Fourth World?”

  “Ready,” Fergus said.

  They climbed into the pod and buckled in. After Fergus closed the canopy, they saw Qai wave on their screens, then darkness as the crate was sealed around them.

  “I met an alien,” Mari said. Her eyes were wide. “I mean, and not a scary one. We talked. She was just a person.”

  “What were you expecting?”

  “I don’t know. Not that. To me, aliens always meant something like the Asiig, kind of a vast, unknowable threat.”

  Dreamlike memories of giant, terrifying shapes moving in the dark popped into Fergus’s mind, and he suppressed a shudder. “Well, see, the universe isn’t all bad,” he said. “You never know who you’ll meet, or even become friends with.”

  “True,” Mari said. “Even people who are trying to pretend they don’t need friends at all.”

  Fergus didn’t take the bait. He was in control, had resources and options and the ability to move. He could almost believe he was back to his usual self again.

  He initiated the sleep systems. Next stop, Mars.

  Chapter 18

  “No,” Mari said.

  “We have to—”

  “No.” Mari was crouched down, heels tucked under her, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. In front of them, behind thick but nearly invisible glass, was the vast panorama of red-brown earth and yellow sky.

  Fergus sighed, folded his legs, and sat down beside her. He waited for her to speak again. It took her a long time, but at last she rocked back and sat down. “So that’s sky,” she said, and then was quiet for another long stretch before speaking again. “Once when I was a kid, Mother Vahn took a couple of us to Central, where they have this thing called a swimming pool. You know what that is? I never understood why she took us there, because it terrified the hell out of me and my sisters. Sky is just like underwater, you know? How can we breathe without it crushing us? How does it not fall? Or just dissipate into space? Don’t say gravity, because right now that just sounds stupid.”

  “Earth’s sky is blue,” Fergus said quietly. “So’s the water. I grew up right at the edge of both, wondering which would finally take me. I picked sky. Sometimes if I stand still too long, it feels like being crushed by the whole universe.”

  “So moving helps?”

  “No,” he said. “But it’s a good distraction. We’ll wait until you’re ready—”

  “Fuck that,” she interrupted. “If everyone always waited till they felt ready, we’d all still be fish living on trees.”

  He couldn’t help it and started to laugh. He sprawled over on his back on the composite floor, staring up at the underside of the Ares Five dome, tears streaming down his face. Other people moving through the concourse on their way to and from the shuttle bay up to Alpha Station gave them a wide berth.

  “What?!” Mari said, glaring peevishly at him.

  “Do you know what a fish is?”

  “. . . Yes.” Less certain, more defiant.

  What did it really matter? She wasn’t staring at the sky anymore. “Tell me what you know about Mars.”

  “It’s a big rock,” she said.

  “So, quick history lesson. When people left Earth, first they built some science stations on Earth’s lone moon, then they came and built some here. It used to take a lot longer to get places, so they couldn’t just come and go and had to have longer-term settlements. Colonists built the first three domes, then there was a big pandemic on Earth, and the oceans were dying, and things were collapsing left and right. Nobody cared about Mars anymore. The colonists had come from a bunch of different nations on Earth, and over the years those who survived and stuck it
out drifted into a hybrid, independent Mars-centric culture. Then about sixty ago, people on Earth realized Mars had resources they needed, so as soon as they got their shit together again at home, they came to get their colonies back, and they brought guns. The war officially lasted eighteen years—that’s when Earth installed the Mars Colonial Authority as the governing body—but it’s never really ended.”

  “That last bit I knew,” Mari said. “Arelyn talked about it a lot. I guess that’s why they left.”

  “Yeah. So the MCA answers to a coalition of governments and super-corporations on Earth. And on the other side there’s the Free Mars movement. Some of them work openly through diplomatic channels to try to resolve conflicts between the MCA and the citizens of Mars. And some are hiding out in the sands, armed and able to defend themselves. That brings us to Ares Five.” He slapped the floor with his hand.

  “Because this is where Gilger called?”

  “Yeah. Olympus Mons University, where Arelyn was studying, is an annex of Ares One. Qai’s contact at the Alpha Station comm sat was kind enough to give us the call logs. My guess is that Gilger sent people over to One to collect Arelyn, and then they brought her back here and are holding her somewhere. And because of the politics, it’s likely she’s somewhere inside the city.”

  “Wouldn’t the detached settlements be easier to hide in?”

  “Yes, but they’re full of Free Marsies. Because fewer women went into space in the early colonizations, Marsie culture developed as matrifocal and family-oriented; they wouldn’t like the idea of anyone holding the daughter of a fellow Marsie hostage, even one who doesn’t live here anymore. But inside the city . . . A lot of people here are first-gens from Earth, and a fascist authority like the MCA is just another familiar piece of Earth-home to them. And because the MCA cares more about stomping down Free Marsies than actual criminals, Ares Five is not a bad place to run a shady business.”

  “But the city is huge.”

  On a Cernee scale, it certainly was. Unlike Cernee, Fergus knew his way around. “I have a plan,” he said. “You ready?”