by Chris Lowry
“I know you don't want anyone to bother you, which is probably what you consider what I am doing right now. But I am betting that I won't be the last man to come over here bother a beautiful woman by herself. So I wondered if you might allow me to sit with you and drink my drink in silence. Maybe me just being here will be enough to make them other fellas leave you alone.”
That made her smile and so she waved to the empty seat across from her with a delicate hand.
The Tall Man slid into the seat and true to his word wrapped his hands around the sweating glass of Amber liquid in front of him. Every so often she could feel his eyes drift across her, linger for a minute on her face before moving lower and then off again to scan the crowd.
He didn't talk though which she appreciated. She was trying to consider her options. Buster still had men looking for her and he had connections all over Mars. Her time in this bar was limited just as her time in Musk should be. She was actually safer on Junebug when they were flying through space, but she did not want to paint a target on the ship or its crew.
Better she get away from them and take the danger with her. They could go rescue the Chinese princess on their own and split Mr. Kim's credit two ways instead of three.
She caught the stranger staring at her again.
“I suppose telling you that eyeballing me is not making me feel alone,” she said.
He took a sip of his whiskey and swallowed it down.
“I'm sorry ma'am but a woman that looks like you it's hard not to watch.”
“Does that pass for charm where you are from?”
“I don't think anyone could accuse me of ever being charming,” he said.
“Ransom,” he held out his hand.
“Mona,” she told him leaving the last part of her name quiet.
“Mona that's a beautiful name.”
She decided to take a new tack with him before he could get into a line of questioning that she didn't want to follow.
“What are you doing in this bar Ransom?”
“I work for the Authority,” he said.
She tried to hide the quick intake of breath. The Authority was a division of the government tasked with land acquisition. She knew they were generally a rough and rowdy bunch who used strong arm tactics to remove early colonists from tracks of Martian property that more powerful people wanted to claim.
“I take it by your reaction you've heard of us,” he laughed in a soft voice.
She liked the way the laugh lines crinkled on the edge of his eyes and nodded.
“I guess I'm just surprised to run into you in town. My experience of the Authority is you spend most of your time on the fringes of the domes. Negotiating.”
“That's true,” he said.
He motioned the waitress over and ordered another drink for himself and a refill for Mona Lisa.
“This is my last night in town,” he said. I'm catching a train in a few hours going to the way out.”
Her ears perked up. The way out was what most native colonists referred to win speaking about the sparsely populated areas of the domes.
The way out was home to Freedmen, prospectors and small miners, families who lived a pioneer lifestyle looking to make their fortune on what was under the red soil. Often, they were as poor as the dirt they scratched in, eking out an existence growing potatoes.
“What's in the way out?”
“The Authority is running a new line along the interior of the domes,” said Ransom.
The waitress returned with their drinks. He waited for her to leave before he continued.
"What's your deal?
He gripped the glass in one hand and slid his eyes over her body. She tilted giving him a better view.
In her experience, it was much easier to get what she wanted that way.
"Just a semi-nomadic wanderer," he said.
She giggled, crossed her arms on the table and leaned forward further still. It was almost impossible to look at her eyes with her seated like that.
"I don’t suppose you’re hiring?” she asked.
He pursed his lips as he thought about it.
“Now what could I do with you?”
“I can think of a few things,” she hummed.
She watched a blush creep up his neck and color his cheeks. He could think of a few things too, she imagined. And he was thinking of them right now.
Hers was a super power and she knew it.
Could be used for good. Could be used for evil.
Like the Major. She flirted with him to get away from the base so she could keep Bat and Tinker safe.
Now Ransom. A little flirting would get her a ride to the way out, and she could find someplace on a farm to hide. Maybe even find an abandoned farm of her own and become a dirt farmer for a few months.
The goons would get bored by then, the hitmen would stop looking and she could last a few months on her own.
It would be like a new kind of prison, out in the wilderness all alone.
But as she thought about it, her resolve grew stronger. Time alone was what she needed.
She just had to convince Ransom to take her to get it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Troops delivered Tinker to the unmarked railcar and didn’t say a word.
“You’re Troops, right?” He stared into the tinted electro-mesh faceplates that covered the front of their helmets.
The pair of bio-enhanced mech suits towered over him by half a meter.
“Was he one of you?” Tinker lowered his voice to a whisper.
He got no response.
“It’s okay, you can tell me. He and I are pretty close. Crew the NS-17 together,” he dusted an imaginary speck from the stained lapel of his flight suit.
“I’m the pilot though,” he added. “Do you know how to fly?”
The mag-lev railcar floated to a silent stop next to the platform.
Tinker took a look at it, then at the set of legendary warriors from Earth’s past.
“You coming with?”
The one closest to him reached over and shoved him onto the ski. The pilot almost tumbled over the other side but caught himself at the last second.
“Could have just said no.”
The railcar whipped away from the base and almost sent him tumbling again. He decided it was much safer sitting down and stayed that way until he reached musk.
The red-light district was almost a distraction until he remembered Bat had all the credit chips.
All he had was a top secret faster than light drive that half the pilot’s he knew would pay a king’s ransom to get their hands on. The other half would just slit his throat and steal it while he watched.
Tinker entertained fantasies of selling it and disappearing, of all the drinks he could buy and women he wouldn’t have to pay for once they knew he was rich as he walked to the cargo hold and keyed in the security code for the hatch.
“Welcome back,” Junebug’s voice greeted him as he stepped inside.
“You will not believe what I found out about Bat,” he called and shut the airlock behind him.
The shallow crew space filled with a glowing blue light.
“Eeep!” Tinker stammered as he realized he wasn’t alone. “Who are you!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ransom didn’t need much convincing. She was about to broach the subject of accompanying him when he brought it up himself.
“You ever been to the way out?”
She put a finger to her lips and shook her head.
“But I’ve always wanted to,” she said. “I love exploring.”
She put an emphasis on the last word to let him know that traveling new places wasn’t the only option open to exploring. It worked. Mona Lisa watched the pulse in his neck throb faster as he considered the possibilities.
“You can come with me,” he stuttered. “If you like.”
“I’d love to come with you,” voice pitched huskier than normal, a double entendre just for him.
/> His glass shivered as he lifted it to his lips and finished it. She took a small sip and set hers down.
“When can you be ready?” he cleared his throat.
“Whenever, wherever,” she said. “I’m always ready.”
The vein in his neck pulsed faster.
Good Stars, she wondered. Am I going to give him a heart attack before we get to the train.
But Ransom stood and held out a hand to help her out of the booth.
He hooked her arm through his elbow and escorted her across the room like a gentleman.
Her ebon skinned escort stopped them as they approached the door.
“Hey man, the lady is with me,” he slurred. “Honey, I thought I lost you.”
Ransom stared at the man for a moment then glanced at Mona Lisa.
“This clown with you?”
“Who you calling a clown,” the man sneered. “Cowboy.”
Ransom removed her arm from his elbow and slammed a fist into the man’s face to send him sprawling across the floor. It was more attention than Mona Lisa wanted and she saw two large men at another booth stare at her in shock and surprise recognition.
“There are no cowboys on Mars,” said Ransom.
“Let’s go,” she didn’t wait for him to reply, just grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the pub.
“Relax,” he said as he tried to slow her down. “I’ve got my Authority ID. The PRO’s won’t give us any trouble if they come along.”
“It’s not the Peace Resource Officers I’m worried about,” she said then realized she would have to cover it up.
“What if that guy had friends? I’m ready for you right now,” she ran her hand on his arm. “I mean I’m ready to go with you right now.”
She giggled at her slip of the tongue and Ransom forgot about the man on the floor or any friends he might have.
He also didn’t notice the two large goon looking men reach the doorway behind them and search the crowd for an unforgettable beauty.
Instead, he led Mona Lisa to the railcar station and an elegant luxury car that waited on one of the magnetic lines that led to the far reaches of the way out.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Tinker panicked.
There was someone in the cargo hold with them. They had yet to discover aliens, though he was pretty sure they existed. The Universe was too big for them not to be true.
How could you have an infinite Universe that stretched to pretty much forever, and yet there only be one planet, now two, capable of sustaining life. Nope, he believed in E.T. and figured it was just a matter of time before they discovered us, or we discovered them.
The tiny blue figure floating across the floor of the cargo hold made him think that time had come.
And he didn’t have a weapon.
“Tinker,” the figure said.
“Eep!” he said again, though a little more strangled this time since he couldn’t breathe.
His stomach churned and he remembered the flask he carried everywhere. He pulled it out as a weapon, decided to make sure it was empty and drained it before a quick toss at the little blue woman approaching.
It was a woman, he saw now.
The flask sailed right through her, disrupting an electrical pattern and he realized it was a hologram.
“Hello?” he said.
“Tinker, it is I, “Junebug.
“Stars and Moons, you scared the crap out of me,” he said and collapsed on the bench.
The blue glowing hologram disrupted and reformed in front of him.
“What did you expect? You locked the ship,” she stated.
Junebug had selected a small perfectly formed picture of a tiny woman with black hair and muscular limbs. The edges of the hologram were frayed, as if the electrons were floating off into the air of the cargo hold, and reminded him of a ghost.
Though he had never actually seen one of those either.
Tinker didn’t want to tell her about ghosts or aliens.
He shoved himself off the bench and retrieved the flask. Then he refilled it from the Captain’s Quarters and secreted it in his pocket. He pulled out the FTL drive and filled a large mason jar full of moonshine to carry with him to the cockpit.
“Bat sent me back with this,” he wiggled the drive at the hologram. “Why are you a hologram?”
“The information you provided about ICE has me thinking of mobility,” she said.
He watched the blue lights play out of the camera lens on the floor, shifting across the cargo hold as the image followed him toward the cockpit.
Junebug moved from the floor to the top of the console, even more difficult to see due to the view screen behind her, and that light that filtered through the image.
Tinker took a long swig of shine to calm his nerves, then another to strengthen them up again.
The burning liquid lit a fire in his stomach that spread out in a blossoming warmth that touched his extremities.
He sat the FTL on the console at the feet of the hologram.
“Bat said get this installed,” he told her and settled into the pilot’s seat.
The hologram winked out as the AI sent a beam of light across the drive. Lines along the exterior of the case lit up as she examined it.
“Wow.”
“Wow?” Tinker asked her. “You’re an advanced intelligence with the entire history of the language at your disposal and all you can say is wow?”
“Oh Wow,” said Junebug.
The lights on the console blinked on and began strobing in sync with the FTL drive.
“Do you know how it works?” Tinker asked, hypnotized by the miniature light show playing out in front of him. He was glad he grabbed a drink before it started.
“Simple. Elegant. Amazing,” she told him. “The Coder would approve.”
“He may have built it,” Tinker suggested.
“I do not see his hand in this,” she answered. “But there is a precision he would appreciate. I am a quantum processing unit, and this drive works on the quantum level.”
“Fast processing,” he said.
“More than that. Quantum at the subatomic level. I am searching for a way to explain it to your limited mind.”
“Thanks, but I’ve been flying almost twenty years,” he bragged. “I think my mind can be unlimited enough.”
“I did not mean it as an insult,” she said. “You are human and that is a limiting factor. This is quantum, which has no limiting factors. Which way is up in space?”
“There is no up in space.”
“Exactly. Up is the possibility of a limiting factor. You sit in a chair, but could be travelling upside down, or sideways, with the ship moving forward.”
“Most of the time.”
“The quantum factor of the possibility of this engine,” the lights went out on the drive, and the engines hummed to life with a different sounding pitch. “The engines now exist in multiple dimensions. Up. Down. Sideways. Backwards.”
“But they’re here. I can hear them,” he took a sip.
“Yes, you can hear them. They exist here, but they also exist elsewhere. When I engage the FTL drive, we will be elsewhere, which in effect, folds space.”
“A wormhole,” he said. “See, my limited brain can comprehend it.”
“But it is not,” said Junebug. “And it is.”
He sighed and took another sip.
“I’m a pilot,” he told her. “The engines need work, I get a mechanic to do the heavy lifting. You’ve got your computer brain, so run some diagnostics. Will this engine do the trick?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t even run the tests.”
“I do not have to,” she stated. “They are there.”
“Then how do you know it’s going to work when we need it?”
“It just is.”
He shook his head.
“I told you, your mind is limited in what it is able to understand. But it will work.”
“Alright,” he said
. “But if you it doesn’t, I’m going to put you back in your cube and take you to Mr. Kim. Cause he’s gonna be pissed if we don’t go get his daughter.”
“Niece.”
“Whatever,” Tinker sloshed a little shine onto the deck of the floor. “Think your hologram can do housecleaning as well as fly my ship?”
“Bat is back,” Junebug announced.
The airlock hissed open and Tinker heard the big man step into the cargo hold.
Tinker rolled out of his seat and used the edge of the door to help hold himself up.
“Troops?”
“Did you get the engine installed?”
“I have,” Junebug answered.
Her hologram flickered on and stood in front of him on the floor.
“Excellent hologram,” Bat told her. “That’s going to make communication with us more effective.”
“I concur.”
“Can you scan the cameras for Mona Lisa? She went missing and we need a radius to start our search.”
The hologram nodded, a very human gesture.
“I found her image in a pub,” she announced.
“Let’s move,” Bat ordered Tinker.
“She has left the facility,” Junebug continued, but I am unable to locate her without an extended search.
“Get on it, and patch the coordinates through to me via radio. We’ll go to the pub and start a ground search.”
He jumped out of the airlock and didn’t wait for Tinker. The pilot had to rush to catch up, and spilled more of his shine as he set the glass down on the floor.
“Clean that up too, will you?”
He almost lost a leg when Junebug eclipsed the airlock closed as he jumped through, and she could hear him laughing as he hurried after Bat.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The levitating railcar looked like an arrowhead from the outside. A narrow pointed front sloped up to the rear in an elegant swoop designed to minimize air resistance.
It was aimed toward the edge of the dome on the horizon, too far to see, though Mona Lisa knew that the track could continue through a tunnel that connected one of the other domes to Musk.
Ransom waved a card in front of a reader and the door whisked open.