by E. M. Foner
“The basic insurance has a five hundred cred deductible for damage,” Marilla informed her apologetically. “Please follow me.”
Rather than leading them directly to the parked rentals, the Horten girl made a detour past the chandlery, where it was impossible to resist stocking up on snack food.
“What’s with the metal briefcase?” Kevin asked his brother-in-law as he cashed out their purchases. “Carrying valuable underwear?”
“It’s a perk from work,” Samuel replied. “When I told the ambassador I was going on a vacation, she asked if I had any luggage and insisted I take something from the storeroom.”
“What’s that chain?” Vivian asked. “Pull up your sleeve.”
“It’s a fashion statement,” Samuel said, grabbing the bag of snacks with his free hand. “Thanks, Kevin. We better get going, Viv.”
“I knew there was something suspicious about this sudden vacation. It’s a handcuff, isn’t it? You’re acting as a courier for the Vergallian embassy and you only invited me along as cover.”
“Does it make sense that I would bring a co-op for Drazen intelligence on a secret mission?”
“Your twenty-four hours started when I ran the programmable cred,” Marilla warned them.
“We’ll talk on the ship,” Vivian said, but the tone of her voice made Samuel wince.
“Memorize the number painted on the nose in case you park somewhere with other Tunnel Trips rentals. Please walk around the outside and make a note of any dents or perforations larger than a Stryx cred and then we’ll inspect the interior.”
“Perforations? You’re renting us a ship with holes in it?”
“Not intentionally,” Marilla said. “That’s the point of the walkthrough.”
“It’s fine,” Samuel told her after a quick circuit. “Let’s check the interior and get going.”
“Wow, do you clean the ships yourself?” Vivian asked after they climbed through the hatch. “It’s spotless.”
“Thank you,” the Horten girl said, and held out her tab like a microphone. “If you guys don’t want to buy the navigation tutorial you have to give me voice confirmation.”
“I waive the navigation tutorial,” Samuel said.
“There are Zero-G sick bags under the acceleration seats just in case. If you have to use one, please make sure the sealing strip turns black after you press the edges together. I had to clean a ship last week where somebody left a little opening, and when the ship accelerated after coming out of the tunnel, the bag flew to the back of the cabin and everything got squeezed out.”
“Maybe I’ll start with a quarter-patch,” Vivian said, but the piece she snipped off was closer to a half. “Does it matter where I put it?”
“Dorothy said they work fastest on the neck,” Marilla told her. “Please place any personal items in your chair’s saddlebags or the overhead compartments before departure. Enjoy your vacation, and thank you for choosing Tunnel Trips. I’ll get the hatch on my way out.”
“That was more complicated than I thought it would be,” Samuel said. He placed the bag of munchies from the chandlery in the large pouch strapped to the side of his chair and zipped it closed. “Are you ready to get going, or do you want to wait a few minutes for the drug to take effect.”
“It’s medication, not a drug,” Vivian snapped. “Maybe I should use the rest of it, just in case.”
“Uh, I just remembered Kevin telling me about the side-effects it had on my sister. He said she couldn’t sleep and it made her kind of aggressive.”
“So now you’re saying I’m too aggressive? You should have thought of that before you asked me to marry you.” Vivian scowled as she put the scissors in her purse with the remaining doses of Zero-G medication and placed the whole thing in her saddlebag.
“I can’t believe how fast the patch worked,” Samuel muttered, and turned his attention to the Stryx controller. “Ready to launch.”
“Please provide a destination,” the mechanical voice responded.
“Right. The tunnel. I mean, Corner Station.”
“Please fasten your safety restraints, launch in ten seconds and counting.
“Why aren’t we moving yet?” Vivian demanded.
“It’s only been two seconds.”
“Aren’t you going to take off that stupid handcuff?”
“I don’t have the key.”
“You mean you invited me on a romantic overnight and you’re going to have a stupid metal briefcase dangling from your wrist the whole time? I’m not going.”
“It’s too late,” he said, as she reached for the buckles on her safety restraints. “We’re already moving. Can’t you feel it?”
“Turn on the viewscreen. I want to see.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea with your—”
“TURN IT ON!”
“Enable viewscreen,” Samuel told the controller in a resigned voice. The large display panel lit up with an advertisement for the in-voyage entertainment system. “Look, they have the Grenouthian news, Vergallian dramas, and old episodes of Aisha’s show.”
“External camera,” Vivian barked, and the screen shifted to a forward-looking view just as the ship began a sweeping ninety degree turn into the heavy traffic in Union Station’s core. “Ugh, turn it off.”
“Viewscreen off. You know that Gryph handles all of the navigation with manipulator fields until we’re in the tunnel. There’s zero chance of an accident.”
“I’m not an idiot. What’s in the briefcase?”
“I, uh, I promised not to tell anyone.”
“Is that what I am to you? Anyone?”
“Here, have a juice box,” Samuel said, unzipping the saddlebag and pulling one out at random. “It’s grapefruit, your favorite.”
Vivian accepted the juice box and peeled the seal off of the mouthpiece. “Maybe I’m getting better at space travel. I don’t feel sick at all.”
“We’re not in Zero-G yet,” Samuel told her. “Gryph keeps the acceleration up until we’re on a vector for the tunnel entrance, and then he eases back until we hit trip velocity.”
“So why do rental ships even need thrusters?”
“In case something goes wrong or we want to go somewhere without active traffic control. If all travel was between tunnel network stations, the Stryx could just play toss-and-catch with us.”
“Sometimes I think they do that anyway. We’re definitely getting lighter.”
“Do you want to watch something on the in-voyage system? The basic selections come with the rental so we already paid for it.”
“You mean I already paid for it. Okay, let’s see the news. My handler said that I need to get rid of my Human-centric view of the galaxy if I want a career with Drazen Intelligence, but I’m dead if Aunt Chastity catches me watching the Grenouthian news.”
“Why don’t you close your eyes for a second in case the display continues the last program,” Samuel suggested, and then watched her comply. “Viewscreen on.” The display went live with a long line of ships entering the dark mouth of the tunnel even as a series of incoming vessels zipped past like meteors heading towards Union Station. “Local Grenouthian news.”
“—and the Farling has been seen on the Vergallian deck, which proves our thesis,” the furry presenter concluded. “In other news, the alternative species of humanoids from Earth, otherwise known as the Alts, have concluded their deliberative process and will be announcing their decision when their delegation arrives on Union Station. Now some exclusive footage from a pirate attack on the Dollnick colony ship, Flower, currently in service as a circuit ship for the Conference of Sovereign Human Communities, or whatever they’re calling themselves these days.”
“What?” Samuel and Vivian said simultaneously. The image shifted from the Grenouthian presenter to a trio of heavily armed ships with energy weapons ablaze making a strafing run on the camera position. A bright red finger of light came from somewhere outside of the camera’s field of view and made brief contact with
the pirate vessels, causing them to spin away out of control.
“Sure hope those pirates have good insurance,” the bunny chortled. “And that, children, is why you shouldn’t attack Dollnick colony ships. Moving on to more interesting species, in Verlock news—”
“Mute,” Samuel said. “I asked Woojin about Flower’s defences the last time he visited my Dad. He said she could take care of herself, but I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
“That’s because you don’t watch the Grenouthian news,” Vivian told him. “They have stuff like that every hour, though most of it is from places that aren’t on the tunnel network. The Galactic Free Press doesn’t publish anything about the wars going on around the galaxy unless there’s a human connection, but the bunnies will run any story that has strong visuals.”
“The Drazens aren’t going to send you anywhere dangerous, are they?”
“Look who’s talking with a briefcase handcuffed to his wrist.”
“Entering the tunnel in ten seconds,” the controller reported.
“Strange we don’t get countdowns,” Samuel said, grasping at any reason to change the subject. “Maybe the last person disabled them.”
“I’ll bet that Marilla resets all of the controllers to the default settings when the ships are returned,” Vivian said. “She’s efficient like that.”
“Do you realize we’ve been coasting for the last several minutes?”
“Do you mean…” Vivian undid her safety restraints and floated up from her seat. “I can’t believe I’m not sick. This medication is great.”
Samuel breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t need to stick another piece of the patch on her neck and undid his own four-point harness. “I’m just going to pop into the bathroom.”
“Why didn’t you go before we left? Do you like Zero-G plumbing? I’m beginning to have second thoughts about this engagement.”
“I’ll just be a minute.”
“It’s got something to do with that briefcase, doesn’t it? Just for the record, I’m starting surveillance on you this minute.”
“You’re spying on me?”
“Just doing my job like you’re doing yours, unless you’d rather leave the briefcase with me.”
“It’s chained to my wrist!”
“So don’t close the door all the way and leave it outside. There’s not much space in that bathroom anyway.”
“You’ve seen the equipment in there, it takes both hands.”
Vivian made a “V” out of her index and middle finger, pointed at her own eyes, and then pointed at Samuel.
“Fine,” he huffed. “Spy on me all you want. I’m just a messenger.”
“So you admit you dragged me along as cover for a secret mission.”
“Let’s not argue. I admit I don’t have to go to the bathroom and that I’m supposed to activate the briefcase when we enter the tunnel. Promise not to tell?”
“What does it do?”
“I don’t know, I’m not even sure why Aainda sent me. I thought the embassy security staffers were all personally loyal to her family, but she seemed to think I was the best choice.”
“How do you activate it?”
“I’m serious about not telling anybody.”
“Station Scouts honor,” Vivian said, holding up her right hand in a pledge.
Samuel regained his seat and strapped back in again. He pulled the briefcase down on his lap and began manipulating one of the latches. “Ten turns to the right, three turns to the left, four to the right.”
“It didn’t open.”
“I don’t think it’s supposed to, it’s just the activation method. Have you ever seen a metal briefcase latch that turned?”
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a metal briefcase,” Vivian admitted. “So now what?”
“We enjoy a few hours in the tunnel coasting to Corner Station, have a look around, and go home.”
“Big date,” Vivian grumbled, reaching for her own seat. “Unmute the news.”
“Put your safety harness back on, just in case,” the EarthCent ambassador’s son said. Between Zero-G and the repetitious nature of the news, Samuel soon dozed off, but he was awakened by Vivian’s frantic cry.
“What’s happening? Are we being attacked by pirates?”
“In a tunnel? They could never find us, hyperspace doesn’t work that way,” Samuel said. “What made you—”
There was a scraping noise outside the rental ship, followed by an unmistakable rapping on the hatch.
“That,” Vivian replied. “I thought I heard footsteps on the hull, but that was definitely a knock.”
“Controller,” Samuel said. “Switch to outside view.”
The loquacious bunny on the screen was replaced by a stunningly beautiful Vergallian wearing an elaborate uniform. Members of a royal guard were arrayed behind her in a giant hangar that would have fit Mac’s Bones in a corner.
“What’s she saying?” Vivian asked.
“Controller. External audio on.”
“…keep us waiting any longer we will not be amused,” a steely voice pronounced.
Samuel ripped off his safety harness and dove for the hatch. As soon as it opened, the Vergallian royal entered, shuffling gracefully forward on her magnetic cleats. She made a hand-sign to a group of officers, one of whom detached himself from the others and came to stand just outside the hatch, his hand on his holstered weapon.
“So you are Aainda’s choice for a messenger. Very interesting.” The Vergallian grabbed Samuel’s sleeve and dragged him closer, which wasn’t difficult, as the EarthCent ambassador’s son wasn’t wearing magnetic cleats and was floating in Zero-G. Then she brought his wrist near her lips and blew on the handcuffs like she was trying to cool a spoonful of soup. The lock popped open and she immediately took possession of the briefcase. “I am Queen Ashiba. Deliver your messages.”
“I wasn’t given any instructions and Vivian isn’t with me. I mean, she’s my fiancée, but she doesn’t work for the Vergallian embassy like I do.”
“Vivian Oxford, daughter to the head of EarthCent Intelligence and the co-founder of InstaSitter.” The officer at the hatch coughed discretely, and the Vergallian royal glanced in his direction before continuing, “And currently employed by Drazen Intelligence. How could we forget?”
“She’s on vacation,” Samuel protested. “I didn’t tell her I was on a secret mission for Aainda.”
“We’ll see if you speak the truth,” Ashiba said, and stared intently at Samuel.
“Don’t you drug him with your pheromones,” Vivian shouted, but her attempt to throw herself between Samuel and the older woman failed because she had forgotten about her safety harness, and now the buckles refused to cooperate.
“You’re resisting us?” the Queen demanded, peering into Samuel’s eyes and frowning. “Is it possible the myth about Humans is true?”
“Which myth is that, Highness?” Samuel asked, employing every ounce of his willpower not to glance down at his boot where the hilt of the dagger Baa had enchanted was secreted.
“That the presence of your true love interferes with our abilities.” Ashiba appeared lost in thought for a moment. “You’re a very lucky young woman, Vivian Oxford, and we don’t have time to separate the two of you for the sake of confirming a myth.” With that, she turned on her heel and exited the rental.
“Do you have any message for Ambassador Aainda, Highness?” Samuel called after her.
“Tell our old friend that we hope she knows what she’s doing,” the Vergallian replied. “Aainda always had a love for complicated plots and she may have outdone herself this time. Release them into the tunnel,” she told her aide, and stalked off towards her royal guard with the briefcase.
“If it wasn’t for that bit about your true love, you’d be dead right now,” Vivian told Samuel.
“But think of what a great story this will make to tell our grandchildren,” he said weakly, redoing his safety harness.
<
br /> “Who is Queen Ashiba anyway? The name sounds familiar.”
“She’s the head of the Imperial Council,” the EarthCent ambassador’s son replied. “The top queen in the Empire of a Hundred Worlds.”
Thirteen
“Are you sure about this?” Flazint asked Tzachan. “I know there will be at least one reporter from the Galactic Free Press and he’ll probably take pictures for an article.”
“It’s an official SBJ Fashions event,” the Frunge attorney reminded her. “That makes it just like we’re meeting at work.”
“I like your new suit.”
“Dorothy picked it out for me. So why is the Galactic Free Press sending a reporter? It’s just a beta test for a sponsored dance series.”
“You met Bob Steelforth at Dorothy’s wedding,” Flazint told him. “He and Judith were standing behind Kevin and Dorothy and getting married for real so the prophetess could do the ceremony. Dorothy bought the two of them dance lessons from Marcus before the wedding, and now she’s amortizing the cost over more events.”
“Should I know Marcus?”
“Chastity’s husband, he used to be a Wanderer and he runs a dance studio. I’m sure both of them will be coming as well.”
Tzachan stuck his head out of the lift tube capsule just to make sure there weren’t any Frunge passing by who would see the couple arriving together, and then he ushered Flazint into the lobby of the Empire Convention Center. They chatted loudly about work on their way to the Meteor Room.
“You’re almost late,” Dorothy greeted them nervously. “All of the magnet dancers are here already.”
“What are magnet dancers?” Tzachan asked.
“That’s what I’ve decided to call experienced dancers who get the party started.”
“They came early because you announced an open bar for volunteers before the official starting time,” Flazint told her. “It really looks like everybody you know is here.”
“Everybody Samuel and Vivian know too. Even Tinka came to see how the co-sponsorship with InstaSitter works out. Do you think I should make a speech?”
“Do you have something you want to tell everybody?” Tzachan asked in return.