Mercury Going Down

by Brambach, C. S.

  “All right, I’m on, any idea what his password would be?” I heard him suck in his breath.

  “Try his birth date, here it is.” I tried it. No luck.

  “Nope. Shit.”

  “Try his mother’s birth date.” He gave it to me. No good. Again.

  “No, not that either. What else?” I ducked down as someone walked by the cubicle.

  “Try his Social.” Jake gave it to me. It didn’t work. I was getting nervous, the key to me seemed to be to get in and get a link to Jake and then shut it down and get out, preferably in under a minute or so. This sucked.

  “What’s his comm link number?” Jake gave it to me and still we were shit out of luck.

  “What’s his favorite color?” Jake told me.

  “Blue it says in his profile.” That didn’t seem to make sense so I tried ‘green’. It worked. Bingo.

  “Bingo. We are in.” It figured. Pete was the biggest, the top ‘getter’ on the base. In the old days he would have been known as a first class scrounger. If there was something you needed or wanted that couldn’t be had in the city, you went to Pete or one of his minions. He had maybe five guys working for him directly. One in all the major departments, but in a small world like Mercury, everybody knew everybody else’s business, so everybody knew the head getter was Pete.

  Despite the ability of the city to produce a cornucopia of foodstuffs and consumer items of general need there were still some things that had to come from off planet. Many of these items were restricted because space on inbound ships was precious. So Pete, lord of the smugglers came in and made a bank roll. Besides the one the company was paying him as a worker. He had a way of getting things that were on the restricted list. For a price of course. Like cotton cloth or silk. Every item of clothing on base was made from hemp. It was easy to grow on base. Cotton required too much water. Silk needed those little worms, and bugs were tightly controlled in a closed environment.

  Take beef. There were no cattle on Mercury. They required too much water and leaked too much methane into the environment. Chickens were small and produced eggs and their waste was decent fertilizer. Same with turkeys. Same with pigs. Pig waste was an excellent generator of methane that could be contained and used for power generation. So beef was high up on the list of contraband articles that was in great demand in the city.

  Mostly the incoming ships brought water, the building block of life. New robots. Parts for robots. Machinery. Tools. Drugs. Stuff that was too hard or complicated to make on planet. Water was important for human consumption and for aquaculture. Plus broken down into oxy for air and hydrogen for fuel. Handy stuff. Fish were a great form of nutrition and fertilizer for corn, which in turn was used for food for other animals, humans and ethanol for fuel. Fish oil was also a great lubricant. The farm section took up almost half of the city and was being rapidly expanded as the mine was expanding. As was the whole city. New people were coming in nearly every other month.

  Then there was real drugs and real alcohol. Real beer was made on planet, but not real wine or booze. Synth wine and synthohol was it. So if you wanted a real Merlot or some real Irish whiskey you slipped a few credits to Pete and waited for delivery.

  If your girl wanted real nylons, or you wanted an extra dose of ‘e’ for that hot date at the swap club function, you saw Pete. It was either Pete or hope that the company mail wasn’t searched or x-rayed. There were certain things that you could have shipped a couple times a year, but if you had burned through your quota, you were shit out of luck.

  Unless you talked to Pete. Of course with the scarcity of petroleum nylons were hard to find even on Earth. There was one item that rumor had it was hot on the black market.

  Cats. There were no pets allowed in space. Dogs were impossible to get onto a ship.

  Though Dogbots were popular. Happy and attentive as real dogs, with the added bonus that you didn’t have to feed them or scoop up after them, just plug them in once and a while.

  Cats on the other hand were smaller and easier to hide. And they did better in enclosed spaces. They didn’t require walking. Other than food, water and a pooper scooper they really didn’t require people at all. Funny how many people require cats...

  “Okay, I’ve got it all, you can bail.” Said Jake. I quickly shut down Pete’s computer and tip toed out of his cubicle and back to where Jazz was rifling through info vid’s. She quickly swapped places with me. She pointed at the screen.

  “They’re starting to grow cotton. But not for clothes. For cotton swabs and batting for beds and pillows. And bandages.” Once a Med Bot, always a Med Bot.

  “Hey, how’s our hero doing?” Asked Pete Simms from behind us out of the blue, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. Jazz turned to look at Pete as he entered the cubicle. Rather than yell, ‘SHIT’, I calmed myself and took his outstretched hand. He had the hand shake of dead wet fish. Cold clammy hands. I didn’t like him.

  He was the ultimate kiss ass suck butt. He was a male skank. He was supposed to have a bad shoe fetish. He was single and regularly visited the Robo Ho’s in the Entertainment district and had them step on his gonads wearing crazy stiletto patent leather pumps. He was a sleaze who always found himself disappointed when his newest ploy for power left him with less respect and no real authority at all. When he had tried to corner and strangle the synth ‘e’ market, the underground market, some young geniuses in the Bio Chem section had put their heads together and started to crank it out and promptly offered it to the company, who gave them big raises and promotions for saving the shipping costs of having to import the stuff by manufacturing it on planet. Waiting for the limited supply that was company sanctioned to arrive on the incoming supply ships put a damper on the Raver click that liked to have a smash two day Rave in the city auditorium once a month or at the least once every other month. In an enclosed space like the base it was important to let the masses blow off steam, especially in such a controlled environment.

  Pop went Pete’s dream of being a drug kingpin.

  “How are you Pete.” I said, trying to hide the grim tone in my voice.

  “Really good Drew, really good. Say, you didn’t see anyone leaving my cubicle did you?” He looked a little nervous, a little bothered under the collar.

  “No, Jazz and I were just watching some info vid’s on the section, why?”

  “Don’t know really, maybe just getting a little paranoid, though, I’m sure it’s just my imagination, my seat, my chair, in my cubicle felt warm, like someone was just sitting there...” He shrugged, looked me in the eye. I laughed in his face.

  “Oh, man, you might want to check with Psych. Dr. Barber is doing a study on people confined in an enclosed situation like we have here on base, and you might be able to help her, cause man, you sound like a case of low grade paranoia in the making.”

  He chuckled and wiped a hand over his face.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. So what brings you to our section?” Cautiously curious.

  “Well, thanks to my new status, I’ve been offered a promotion and a transfer to any section I want that I show aptitude for anyway.” Oh, the look on his face of green with envy blues. Envy the size of an elephant in his eyes. Everyone knew he was bucking for head of section. Only Ashley had that job. And she was banging the number two man in Admin. Who was basically the number three man in charge of the whole city. Not a whole bunch of room for maneuvering there. Sign up for another tour and pray for attrition to take it’s toll...

  “Heard you might need some help in your section actually.” Make him squirm some more.

  “Oh, really. Well, we might need someone with data entry skills. Your Misses was crackerjack at that, but she’s moving back over to Art/Ent/Rec full time now. She was handy, let me tell you, any little glitch in the system and she’d have it patched up in no time. Really hated to see her go. I would think after all the time outside, you’d find working here rather boring.” He smiled what I’m sure to him appeared to be a sincer
e smile. It looked more like a grimace to me.

  “I’m up for a change. After I take a few more weeks off to rest and recover of course.”

  That brought a smile. Working the system and working the new hero status would have occurred to a sleaze like Pete in a heart beat.

  “Sure, I can understand that, especially after Dave’s loss. You’re probably taking it hard. Rest assured we’d love to have you in this section, so if you have any questions, need any info to help with your decision, don’t hesitate to call me, okay?” He was starting to fidget, as if standing in one place for more that a couple minutes made him nervous.

  “I’m gonna go check out Art/Ent/Rec too. I wrote for the papers back home about ten years ago, I figured to check out all my options. Heck, I may also check Religious Therapy, I put in quite a bit of time into comparative religious studies back in school and the area has always fascinated me. But thanks for the warm welcome.” His eye’s started to widen when I mentioned Art/Ent/Rec and he broke into a sweat when I talked about Religious Therapy. What were the connections there? I could see the light go on in his head when he thought of having a hero in his section. Score some brown nose bonus points probably.

  “Glad to. I have to run, there’s a ship due with a load of water, seeds for some new fruit groves and another batch of Robo Ho’s for the Entertainment district. Be in touch.”

  He pointed a finger at me and booked out of there as fast as his feet could carry him.

  Shortly Ashley poked her head in and invited me to lunch. She took me to the Entertainment district and the Porto Fino restaurant. We shared a bottle of synth Pinot Grigio and a large plate of chicken marinara pasta, with copious amounts of garlic cheese bread sticks and a light salad.

  She told me she had broken up with Jim. She wanted to focus on some personal goals and after six years with Jim, she felt she could use the space. Now if he would just find his own quarters and move out, life would be sweet. She didn’t know if she would do another tour on Mercury. She heard the company was expanding rapidly on Venus and seemed eager to give a move a try. She wanted to know how things were between Karen and I and I told her the truth. I wasn’t deeply in love, but I cared for her, and while she was shagging me good and regular, I was down with the status quo. She made no reference or mention of the incident that had lead to my new hero status. Assumed it was too painful a memory. She had a weird gleam in her eye when she asked how my marital relations were. Could my buddy have designs on me? The hero syndrome running up?

  Jake called. I held up a finger to Ashley.

  “Yeah Jake?” He was almost breathless.

  “Oh, man, we may have hit the jackpot. You definitely want to check out Art/Ent/Rec and Religious Therapy, lot of traffic between those two and Pete in Supply. A bunch of cred’s flowing from both to Pete. If you can get me into either one, cause I’m having a hard time jacking into Religion, not so bad at Art. Like some super complicated code locks on Religion. It’s almost spooky. Huh-huh.” I frowned. What was up with that?

  “Yeah, I’m headed to Art/Ent right after lunch. I’ll give you a heads up.” He cut the connection. I was ogling Ashley’s chest. She was wearing a tailored orange set of coveralls that was very low cut in the front showing off her lovely cleavage.

  “Sorry. Checking out your rackage there.” She smiled.

  “Maybe that’s cause I want you to.” Mixed signals confusing me.

  “Doing a good job then.” She dipped her head after taking a last sip of wine.

  “So, checking out Art/Ent/Rec?” One eyebrow raised. Inquisitive.

  “Yeah, just keeping my options open.” She nodded. Understanding.

  “Well, if you need a hand, you just let me know.” A twinkle in her eye.

  “Uhm, yeah. Actually, what’s up with Pete, Pete Simms?” She gave a brief shiver.

  “Ugh, that guy, he gives me the creeps. If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was sleeping with Jim, because he has his nose so far up Jim’s ass he can’t see daylight. What can I tell you, I tell him what to do and it get’s done, but quick. He does good work, but I know that he has his fingers in pies all over the city. He has access to stuff that shouldn’t be here. But all his manifests come up clean. I’ve checked. Everything that’s supposed to come in comes in, in the proper weight and quantity. Somehow he slips extra stuff in.

  Heck, even I’ve bought some ‘e’ from him before. Though I’m sorry I did. I hate to think of the blackmail potential that guy has on half the populace of the city. Why?”

  “Just like to know the lay of the land. Who not to cross in the department if I’m gonna work there. That kind of thing. Little background info so to speak. Thanks for the heads up.” She patted my knee under the table.

  “Glad to be of service. We should hook up for drinks soon.”

  “Sure, you bet. I’ll call ya.” That was lunch. I would have Jazz wheel me to the Art/Ent/Rec section for a meeting with the gorgeous Magnolia Sarhuz.

  Art/Ent/Rec was at the far end of the Admin complex, which made it closest to the space port. It’s spaces, having been former storage warehouses, were huge. Which tended to make the small cubicles look like a strange art installation. Title? Depth of Scale and the Diminishment of the Worker. The place was as empty as a ghost town in a heat wave. I called Jake.

  “Hey, any idea whose console in Art/Ent/Rec may have sent the signals?” Where was everybody? What better time to snoop?

  “Nope, somebody did one hell of a job wrapping these things up in camo gauze cause I’m having a bitch of a time tracing and tracking it down to the true origin point.” Eh, who ever it was, was damned good... What was that Jake had said, an artist? Maybe this was where it all started. I saw a janitorial Bot running a dust mop between the cubicles. I waved it over.

  “Cool, well I’m there now and the place is a tomb, you keep at it. I might make my way over to Religious Therapy, see if there’s anyone I can talk to there.” I hung up. The Bot approached. It was short, androgynous and it’s skin was bright green. It was naked. Across it’s belly the words ‘Fuck Work’ were printed in bright red. Gotta love those artists.

  “Where is everybody?” It tilted its head in a quizzical manner.

  “The entire staff is at a welcome back party for Miz Karen Dunn at the Hawaiian Garden.” Oh, yeah, give artists an excuse to party and of course, they were gone. Wearing leis and drinking large fruity drinks with little umbrellas sticking out of them. Don’t poke your eye out, because beauty and therefore art is in the eye of the beholder.

  “Miz Dunn was given a supervisory position in the Murals Department.”

  “Thanks, that will be all.” The Bot went back to picking up empty synth wine bottles. Funny, where ever man found silicate sand, he made glass. Invariably to hold his hooch. From the number of bottles the Bot was picking up, I could tell they had been going at it. Karen would be coming in late. Very late. I called and left a voice mail for Magnolia.

  At the Religious center the right Reverend Jeff Bachus was busy poring over files. Trying to get up to speed in his new spot as top dog in the God department. Jeff was tall, slim, and dark. He didn’t look it, but he was one of the strongest humans I had ever met. Strong in the sense of he was one of only three of four men I wouldn’t want to tangle with in a fist fight. Not that I’m a killer, but I can hold my own. He had had a career on Earth as a renown fashion photographer, and when that had bored him, not long after he met and married his lovely wife Therese, he had drifted into construction. That was the initial reason he had signed on for his tour of Mercury, to help build new living quarters for the rapidly expanding city. As well as med units, and public use sections. I had never asked him how he had become involved in the religion business. He was one of my infrequent poker buddies, as well as a frequent drinking buddy. He had the most incredible streaks of luck I’ve ever witnessed in my life. Or maybe there was a God after all.

  His wife was a rarity in the city in that she had one of the few commercial c
oncessions on planet. She was the hairdresser, beautician for the entire city. The company had paid her ticket and provided her with a rent free store front in the heart of the Entertainment District and had provided a programmed staff of a dozen Robots to help her run it. Women on base would wait for three solid months for Therese to cut their ‘heads’. No Bot cut would do. She wasn’t paid by the company, but paid by the residents who used her services. She was the richest person in the city. She also was probably privy to more dirt than any psychotherapist on base. I should probably get Jeff to invite me over for drinks.

  As soon as Jazz wheeled me in I stood up and gave Jeff a bear hug. He slapped my back.

  “You’re looking good man. Glad you’re okay.” We both sat back down.

  “What are you doing here?” I shrugged.

  “Somethin’ in the rules say a man can’t get a little spiritual check up?” He laughed.

  “For a guy who doesn’t believe in God, you probably are the most spiritual man I know.” He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a bottle of Black Bush and a couple of small cut lead crystal glasses. Funny what a man will bring across the star flung expanse of space to make himself feel at home. He poured out the Irish whisky without spilling a drop. Handed me one. That first sip was so smooth it left me speechless for a moment. I wondered which was more rare, the whisky or my lack of verbalization.

  “Good stuff.” I practically sputtered. He raised his glass.

  “To the living.” He said and took a sip. I followed his lead then raised my glass again.

  “To the dead, who are left behind soon enough.” I killed the contents and held out my glass for a welcome refill. We settled back in our chairs.

  “So, what really brings you here Drew? Besides my whisky, that is.” He tilted his face down so that he looked up at me over the bridge of his nose. Now, I don’t know if it was the whisky, or the pent up frustration of trying to piece together a puzzle that should have been easy but was turning out to be complicated, but I let it all out. From the fact that someone had tried to kill me and had killed Dave, to all the lurid sexual shenanigans of the last few days. The whole hero thing. Through it all Jeff listened attentively. He was good. He had come out for a five year tour and two years in had completed his web seminary training and had then become a part time minister on base. It seemed like he had been doing it for decades. He steepled his fingers and leaned back in his chair.