by Cindy Borgne
“Bring up the history of Orissa.”
Orissa was located in the Bakhuysen region and raided by Marscorp fourteen years ago. They were made up of skilled scientists and no military force. Their surviving personnel ended up in prison due to their refusal to cooperate.
There were a couple private files owned by Beacon attached to the record, but they were locked. I searched some more, but found nothing. Having only so much time on my day off, I decided to research possible escape routes.
“Bring up the cargo hovercraft routes . . . .”
The holo beeped. Clare’s name lit up on the display.
“Good morning,” I said half-heartedly and left it on voice only so she wouldn’t see my bandaged hand.
“I’m glad I caught you,” Clare said. “There was almost an incident between the newly formed Vallar and Marscorp again.”
“An incident? Where?” I stared, fearing they had found and attacked the Gentech base already.
“At the mine, of course, and it was nothing serious. It was more a show of muscle, but regardless Marscorp backed down because Vallar has amassed a substantial fleet,” Clair continued as I got dressed. “They’ve been installing the Gentech radar deflector in the Vallar vessels.” She paused. “I’m telling you this because Beacon said he’s going to come visit you tomorrow if he doesn’t get any intel soon.”
That was the last thing I wanted. Then a clever idea came to mind. “Well, I do have a little something. I think I saw the main base of Gentech.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“I can’t be one hundred percent sure.” I tried to sound like my confused self. “But I think it was in the Elysium Planitia.”
“Excellent, I will inform the Admiral at once.”
I strained not to burst out and laugh. “Thanks, but I have to go. My break’s almost over.”
“Good work. Talk to you later.”
I leaned back in the chair and laughed. For the next hour, I looked over various outposts and only one looked like a possible escape - an outpost run by Argyre, a farming corporation that made a living setting up domed farms and selling food to all the other organizations. Marscorp allied with them because they needed the food.
Everyone considered the post neutral territory, but nothing ever stayed neutral. Some organizations maintained offices at this post, including Marscorp in an effort to recruit workers passing through.
I searched through the holographic images. There were hotels, restaurants, acres of crops and cargo bays owned by different organizations. It looked like a great place to hide for awhile if I could get there. The repair hangar beyond the porthole waited for me to visit.
Sonny had checked control boxes most the night. I couldn’t ask him to show me around the repair hangar, but it wouldn’t hurt to go there and look by myself.
I went out and headed for Sonny’s office. A middle-aged man with a reef of black hair stood in front of Sonny’s desk. I stopped, not wanting to interrupt and waited out of view by the production board.
Most of the workers had gone to lunch and without the roar of the machines, I couldn’t help but overhear. As they talked, I guessed the man must be a production overseer for several factories.
“I see the report here about yesterday’s incident,” said the overseer. “Do you not check control boxes on a regular basis?”
“Of course, I do,” Sonny snapped and huffed. “But I think Dan was switching chips on me. Whatta ya do when they do that? I requested those updated boxes six months ago.”
“I’ll see what I can do about your request, but I can’t guarantee anything.” The overseer looked over a dataviewer. “How’s it going with the young elite?”
“Better than expected. He’s the one who saved Hector.”
“That’s strange. They told me he was lazy.”
“Lazy?” Sonny chuckled, sarcastically. “Yeah, right.”
“Anyway, they wanted me to tell you to make it hard for him.”
“What?” Sonny asked in a tone of disbelief.
“Make him hate it here,” he snapped.
“How can I do that after he saved my assistant manager?”
“Cooperate and you’ll get your permanent worker sooner.”
“Swell,” Sonny said followed by a grumble.
“And by the way, isn’t the need for three more workers asking a bit much?” asked the overseer.
"Have you seen our backlog? Dust keeps getting in the shafts. That fleet of elevator's aging, you know.”
“Always with the excuses. It’s a good thing you barely made your quota, or you may have found yourself demoted.”
“Nobody is gonna do better than me here,” Sonny said with disgust. “Aren’t you a little new to be making such quick judgments?”
“I have many years of experience at Marscorp. Enough years to know that if you got tougher down here, you wouldn’t cut it so close.”
“If you say so.” Sonny gave a few sarcastic chuckles and plopped into his chair.
I wanted to charge into the office and say something in Sonny’s defense, but wasn’t sure Sonny would like it.
As the man turned around, I stepped away from the office. The snobby overseer strutted out with a dataviewer tucked under one arm. I waited until he cleared the exit and went in the office. Sonny huffed and sorted through some datachips on his desk.
“I heard.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not obeying that jackass.” Sonny paused and slowly a grin spread. “That’s another word for division overseer.”
“Why don’t you complain to someone over his head?”
“No, too risky. Those guys stick together.” He picked up his com. “But so do we managers.” He tapped in a code and waited. “Bret, just gotta give you a heads up. The asshole was here and is headed over to your place.” He paused and looked at the clock. “You’re most welcome.” He shut the com.
“There must be something you can do.”
“Overseers always try to crank up the pressure. I’m not worried about it.” Sonny put the datachips in a desk drawer. “So, ya feeling better today?”
“Much better. I can go to my station now.”
Sonny grinned with set eyes. “Don’t even try it.”
Obviously he needed the help, but I doubted Sonny would change his mind. “In that case, I’m going to give myself a tour of the repair hangar.”
“Oh crap, I should’ve mentioned that to Bret.” He reached for his com.
“It’s okay. I can show myself around.” I paused. “So Bret’s the manager of the repair hangar?”
“Yes, he’s kinda of a big guy with short black hair. He tries to look tough, but is actually a good guy. Sonny rummaged around in his desk and tossed me a security card. “You can borrow this.”
****
Minutes later I walked through the first section of the repair hangar. Wide stations sat in rows. Large metal panels and frames were in stacks along the walls. Men worked at long benches.
An impressively large hangar was beyond the workstations. People worked on various vessels building, welding or repairing. Some of them glanced at me as I walked along. Others stood on tall ladders next to the vessels. They worked on all types of both civilian and military vessels. Escaping on a recently repaired model looked like a possibility.
A couple of guys welded a frame, which looked like a civilian design. I pictured myself working there, but that was impossible. I tucked my hands in my pockets and slumped, but straightened at an unrecognizable model.
I approached one of the workers nearest me. “Hi, I was wondering. What model is that?”
The worker turned around, holding a dataviewer. Only a few strands of reddish hair stuck out from a gray cap. “Who are you?” asked a feminine voice.
Her voice sent a chill up my neck and hazel eyes stood out from a pale complexion. She only looked a couple of years older than me.
“I’m Ian Connors, from the elevator factory.” She looked familiar, but I di
dn’t want to say anything. “Sonny said I could look around, if that’s okay?”
She glanced at the security card hanging from my belt. “Oh,” she said as if she realized something. “Yes, of course, this is a new model. An MC-470. Mainly for passengers, and a bit bigger than the midranges with a few other luxuries, of course.” She looked over the vessel with a hint of pride.
“Wow, so you’re building it from the ground up?”
“That’s right.”
“So what’s your name?”
“I’m Casey.” Her eyes followed something behind me.
I turned around. A man with black hair jogged toward us from the office. As he neared, our eyes locked. His sleeveless shirt showed off intimidating muscles. The familiar jagged hair and big brown eyes hit me like a laser blast. He looked like the Phantom pilot. I held back a gasp and glanced away, hoping the man didn’t see any fear in my eyes.
“I’m the manager.” His dark eyes pierced through me. “How’d you get in here?”
It was him - the pilot of the Genner Phantom. I fought to keep a startled expression off my face and thought back to the day he disabled my hovercraft. Now he was here, but how?
All the memories of this man rushed through me – flying his impressive midrange – firing on the transports – grieving over Layne. But those laser shots on the transports were only a decoy. By working in this hangar, this man had caused the transports to explode most likely by planting a bomb. Somehow this Genner managed to work his way into Marscorp.
He raised his voice, “I said, how did you get in here?”
I swallowed hard and raised my eyes. “Sonny gave me a security card.” I fought to keep tension out of my voice. “I was just taking a look around your hangar.”
“Shouldn’t you be working somewhere?” He frowned as he looked me over.
“Actually, I have the day off.” I spun around and walked quickly toward the elevator.
“Wait a minute.” The spy ran up to me.
I stopped, not wanting to seem suspicious.
His brown eyes shifted like he tried to figure something out. “Who are you?”
I found the question ironic. “I’m Ian Connors, from the elevator factory.”
“Oh, yes,” he said as if he had heard about me, “I’m Bret Yargar,” He extended his hand, “the manager here.”
I shook his hand, remembering Sonny’s call to Bret. “You have an impressive shop.”
“Thank you. Sonny told me about you wanting to see it, but I’ve been busy. Casey can show you around.” He motioned to the young woman. “I hear you’re an elite.”
I paused at how fast word got around. “Yes.”
“You must be talented to be such a young elite.” He spoke with a hint of hate in his voice that wouldn’t be noticeable to most people.
I tensed in anticipation of a bunch of probing questions. “I can’t talk about that.”
“This isn’t a place for someone like you.” He glanced at my bandaged hand. “You’re going to get hurt even more if you stay.”
“Then that’s my problem.” I shifted my hand behind my back.
He took a step into my personal space. “Ya know, most unhappy elites try to defect and none try to become workers. So what’s with you?”
“Well, I-I-I’m the first who wants to be a worker.”
“Interesting,” Bret said with a tone of disbelief.
A chill went through me. Bret had given me a lot of thought. His arms and chest tensed, although only a touch of anxiety showed on his face. A spy would be worried with an elite so near. Before I knew it, an awkwardly long moment of silence passed.
“What would you like to see?” Bret motioned his hand at the vessels in the hangar.
“What?” I struggled to find something to say. “Uh, the engines.”
“Of course. Casey, could you show him?”
“Okay,” Casey said. “I’ll take you for a closer look.”
As I walked with Casey, I kept one eye on Bret. He walked up to a petite woman at the entrance to his office. I remembered seeing her on the Phantom too. She was of Asian descent with slanted eyes and long dark hair. After they talked, Bret leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. I looked over other workers wondering who else might be a spy.
Casey led me over to the engine of a small two-seater, quick military scouter. Her eyes glanced over me with a glimmer of curiosity. “I figure you’ve probably seen these engines before.” She thought things through more than the average worker.
I peered over the engine. “Yes, about a year ago, but not in a repair shop. I notice they’ve made some modifications to improve its speed.”
“I bet you know more about ships than you let on.” She probed with a smile.
“Not much to tell. I’m a pretty good hovercraft pilot though.” She was with Bret. A couple of Genner spies, no doubt about it. With Bret around, escaping on one of these vessels would be impossible.
As she explained the details of the engine, her voice brought me back to when I was in the hovercraft with Nate before the battle.
I’m saying this out of respect for the people who are about to sacrifice their lives. If you would like to discuss terms, please stand down and contact me.
Kayla! She was working here with the Phantom pilot. She once had long, thick hair, clear eyes and color in her cheeks. Now dark circles hung under her eyes, her hair barely visible under a dirty cap, and she looked to have lost fifteen pounds. Guilt gripped my throat and squeezed, forcing me to make a conscious effort to breathe.
“Anything else you want to see?” she asked with a small smile.
“Well, I, ah.” I pulled out my com and struggled to put together a sentence. While her change in appearance tore me in half, I also felt reunited with a long lost loved one. I wanted to hug her and never let go.
She tilted her head at me. “Are you okay?”
I pretended to check the time. “S-s-onny wanted me to help him with something. Gotta go, thanks, bye.” I waved and walked quickly away, through the shop and sprinted toward the elevators.
Hastily, I took another glance at her. At the same time, my feet slid across a spot of spilled grease, yanking my feet out from under me and sending me shoulder first into a workbench. A bunch of tools rolled off and clanged to the cement floor.
“What the hell?” shouted a heavy-set, grease covered worker. His narrowed blue eyes bored into me.
“Ian,” Kayla knelt by me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, sorry about the tools.” I hurried to put them back on the bench.
The man grumbled and returned to his work.
Kayla helped me pick up everything and touched my shoulder in an inspecting way. “You hit that bench pretty hard. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” I tried not to blush, “at least I didn’t mess up my other hand.”
Her face tensed as she tried not to laugh. “That was a unique way to slide there. If only the bench wasn’t in the way.”
“True,” I chuckled nervously. “Well, I gotta go.”
“See you around.” She turned and headed back to work, looking small and vulnerable in contrast to the size of the hangar and the vessels.
I walked carefully into an open elevator and slid down on the seat as the doors shut. She wasn’t safely behind Vallar territory - she was here risking her life. There wasn’t anything I could do about it. She had been an assistant to a diplomat. Stopping the killing and bringing peace to Mars was the most admirable task of all. She was a thousand times better than me. Her courage to come here impressed the hell out of me.
I stepped out to the sounds of the elevator repair shop and passed my empty station. Sonny worked at a station even though he stayed up most of the night checking control boxes. I would’ve asked him if I could help, but that would only aggravate him.
I remembered Layne asking me to tell Kayla he loved her. How could I ever do something like that? A note would work, but also might scare her and raise
questions.
Unfortunately, I needed to concentrate on my own problems. I went back to my room and turned on the holo to do some more research.
Would Bret try to kill me? After a few moments, I dismissed the thought. He would draw too much attention. Besides, Bret was a soldier with ethics. He could’ve finished me off during the battle.
He made the black ship by hand every inch of the way. Knowing it was nearby, tempted me to try and find it, but I couldn’t risk it, let alone take the time.
I brought up Bret’s record on the small holo. It stated he came from a small organization called Regent and was hired as a mechanic ten years ago. He was promoted to manager after five years. Most likely he used Regent as a stepping stone to Marscorp.
“List the employees for the repair hangar MCH2O1”
Casey’s name didn’t come up in our databanks. This meant she hadn’t been here that long. Bret cleverly used his position to make everyone think she had been hired.
****
That evening I forced down the boring, bland dinner alone in the cafeteria. I ate for energy and nothing else. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kayla watching me from a few tables down. Perhaps Bret sent her to observe me.
I tried not to smile, looked again and our eyes met. She turned away like nothing happened, but I kept looking. I imagined her with the beautiful long hair. Shame she cut it off to come here, although she was still beautiful. Layne’s death did this to her and sadness jabbed at me.
Dieter and several others approached interrupting my thoughts. They sat down around me all at once.
“So you got the day off, greenhorn?” Dieter asked with irritation and bumped into me with his massive arm.
“Yes, but,” I looked around for the closest exit, “Sonny insisted.”
Dieter nudged me. “Don’t worry. I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“That was amazing how you saved Hector,” said another.
“Thanks.”
“We’ve been wondering about you. Why do you come here?”
I tensed, anticipating a bunch of questions. “Being an elite isn’t as great as you think. There’s a lot of pressure.”
“But why do you hate it so much?” Dieter asked.