Mercury Going Down

by Brambach, C. S.

  “Stash this someplace safe.” She quickly made it disappear.

  We made a right inside the port travelway and, after going quite a distance turned right again into an elevator. We went up one floor to enter the original residences of the colony. They had since been converted to office space and work shops, though Winn Lee, as number two man at the port had his residence there as well. We made our way through a maintenance work shop, a series of offices, and an industrial size kitchen before being led into a small bedroom. To find Jake, clothed in a bright yellow gi suit, playing Doom 104, blasting rude aliens. He perked up as soon as he saw us. He jumped up and practically sprinted over to shake me hand.

  “Hey bro, glad to see you’re okay! Hey man...” A serious look came over his face.

  “It’s cool man, don’t sweat it, you’d have done the same for me.” Cut the big thank you scene to a minimum. He waved off the guards.

  “Thanks guys, I’ve got them from here.” They faded, fast. He sat back down, and called for some tea. He looked at me.

  “So, where’s Fox?” Nonplused. As if the crazed, corrupted Bot hadn’t tried to whip him to death. I tossed him the disc with my findings on it.

  “She’s at my shop, head on the diagnostic pedestal, with reprogramming nanobots in her fixing the damage, or trying to, under guard.” I pointed at the disc. “There is everything the probe turned up. I’d like to get your take on it. Some spooky shit.”

  “Definitely.” He turned off the game and booted up his network and his programs.

  “She had us jumpin’.” He looked over at me as his hands flew over the console.

  “Oh, yeah?” I nodded.

  “Yup. She kept saying that she loved you, but that she was compelled to hurt you.”

  He bowed his head and pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand.

  “Yeah.” He said.

  “So bro, what’s with you hiding out here?” He looked at me, shyly.

  “My uncle sent some men for me and my protection, as he put it.”

  “So you weren’t kidnapped.” He shook his head and snorted.

  “Of course my nephew wasn’t kidnapped.” Said a new voice.

  It came from a little old white haired, white bearded Asian man in a black gi suit with a wide leather belt holding up the pants of his suit and supporting the oldest, most beat up sheathed Porters tool I had ever seen. He was a docker all right. He bowed.

  I did a half bow from the chair and waited for more.

  “I am Winn Lee, Mr. Dunn. Jake is the oldest son of my youngest sister. He is quite safe here. There are no Robots here to be corrupted, and the residences here as well as the whole port facility are not linked, directly, to the rest of the colony’s computer or power system. So no worm virus can creep in and kill him. No, until the killer is finally caught and isolated, he is quite safe here Mr. Dunn.” He smiled a warm smile and pulled up a metal chair to form a small circle of Jake at the computer, himself over Jakes right shoulder, and me, in my wheelchair, straight across from Winn.

  “First let me take this opportunity to personally thank you for saving Jakes life. If there is ever anything I or my family can do for you, please feel free to name it. At any time. You are owed a great debt.”

  “Well, thanks, I appreciate it. Uhm, I have a few questions, if you have a few minutes?” He bowed from the waist. Acquiescing. “Great. You can call me Drew by the way.” He smiled and shook his head.

  “You may call me Lee.” The tea arrived and we all had a cup and after a few tentative sips, it was good Oolong, I spoke up.

  “Well Lee, forgive me if I’m not diplomatic, so I’m just gonna put it out there.”

  Jake rolled his eyes and shook his head and grinned. Lee held a hand out, palm up and shook his head, once.

  “Are you aware of, or connected in anyway, with the Black Market Underground?”

  Lee blinked. He looked at Jake and blurted something in short, sharp Chinese. Jake looked at me.

  “He asked, how smart is this guy?” He looked at his uncle over his shoulder.

  “Very smart, one of the smartest white guys I’ve ever met. He probably has more friends here in the city than you do. And he’s straight up, loyal, and unassuming.” He winked at me. I looked at him. Yeah, I talked to people, who were nice when you showed up when you said you would to fix their toaster oven, or Robot dog, but friends?

  “You speak Chinese Jake?” He shook his head.

  “I understand it, I don’t speak it. Born and bred in San Francisco. Go Giants.”

  “Yeah, fuck the Giants, go Dodgers.” He flipped me off from the console.

  “Let me assure you Drew, right now, that we had nothing to do with the attempts on you life, or the deaths of Dave, Hugo, the Reverend or Jim Simpson.” Jazz texted my comm link and told me that news of Jim’s death hadn’t been released.

  “As Jim’s death isn’t public knowledge yet, could I ask how you know about it?”

  He smiled a knowing smile. Held up both hands in a dismissive gesture.

  “There isn’t a thing that goes on here that we don’t know about.”

  “You mean the Black Market Underground?” He dipped his head once.

  “We have done nothing to cover anything up.” I cocked my head to one side.

  “But you do know what’s going on, what the competition is up to, right?”

  “Of course, a wise businessman keeps tabs on his competitors.”

  “All right, so you were aware of Jim Simpson’s various, er, enterprises? That he was siphoning credits from the company and laundering it, as well as increasing it through the Entertainment Department?” I raised both eyebrows.

  “We are also aware of certain inconsistencies in his Supply manifests. His smuggling operations.” He raised an eyebrow now.

  “He was involved in the drug trade, was he not?” He nodded his head.

  “You might also investigate his actual order forms and reception manifests for inconsistencies in what actually showed up in inventory. You might also check on reconstituted drugs.” That knowing smile again.

  “Reconstituted?” He shook his head again. Once.

  “Yes, drugs that are past their expiration date are routinely shipped back to Luna under other names on the manifests and are sold then on Venus and Luna as ‘new’ drugs on the Black Market, for a highly discounted price, of course.”

  “As these drugs are paid for by the company, and are slated for disposal, the money they bring in is free and clear, huh?” He dipped his head. “If they are even shipped at all. What do you know about Memredux and Imaginex?” He scowled at the mention of Memredux.

  “I would like to help you eradicate Memredux from the colony. We do not like it as a product. As so many of these transactions are done as ‘fronts’, were the customer owes you till a later date, Memredux is a bad product. I do not like it much. The customer tends to forget they owe you five minutes after they take it! But Imaginex, oh, huge profit potential there, I would like your help in eliminating the competition there. Here.” He produced a disc from a back pouch on his belt and handed it to me.

  “This holds detailed information on Jim Simpson’s import network and his various and sundry connections. If you could see this gets into the proper hands, I would consider it a great personal favor.” I took the disc and passed it to Jazz.

  “What do you know about the going’s on in Religious Therapy?” Probing.

  “Little to nothing. Though it is quite the intelligent scam from what we have heard.”

  “Okay. What do you know, if anything about the rigged gambling going on in the Entertainment division? The laundering of funds?” Deeper.

  “There is a definite connection between Supply and the Gambling division. We have known for some time that funds were passing to the Entertainment Department and were being wagered on sure things. That the winners were then spending their credits on various and sundry luxury goods, through Supply, that Supply was making kick backs on, w
ith the profit being split between Supply and Entertainment. That is for goods that were bought by fictitious personnel and sold here on base for an exorbitant profit. Gambling, Entertainment taking a cut off of the rigged bets as well. There is info on this ring and it’s personnel as well contained on the disc I just gave you.” I dipped my head, once, in acknowledgment and thanks. “Hugo Lakshmi was pocketing most of that.”

  “So there’s a possibility that Jim Simpson had him bumped off to pocket the extra credits? Or to keep him from exposing his involvement in the RT scam and that he had killed the Reverend and his wife because they were leaving at the end of this tour and maybe the Reverend was going through a shift in consciousness. Couldn’t live with the wrong that he had done, been part of. Was going to give Jim up and take his lumps. Maybe because he was involved somehow in Dave’s death.” Winn shook his head.

  “No. Dave was involved in a minor way in the Gambling outfit. He helped run numbers back and forth between the concession and the Maintenance and Repair Department. But he was not killed for that. We do not know who killed Dave. Nor do we know who killed the Reverend or Hugo. But all indications are that Pete Simms was most definitely involved in the death of Jim Simpson. We have not been able to track his involvement in the attempt on Jakes life. Nor have we been able to find out who the intended target was, whether it was you or Dave, in the incident on the surface. Though we believe that it was planned and executed by someone in the city. Anything else?”

  So Dave had been a runner. It looked like I was just collateral damage. Had he been killed because he was going to ‘spill the beans’? Killed to shut him up?

  “Yes, one more thing. We’ve surmised that Jim and Pete were smuggling things in the water shipments, can you confirm or deny that? Thereby not using up valuable cargo hold space for contraband items?” He chuckled.

  “Oh, yes, most ingenious system they were using. We were thinking of trying it ourselves until the latest news came in.” He smiled then, like a Cheshire cat.

  “News, what news?” I asked quickly.

  “A huge new vein of water has been found, on planet. Effectively ending incoming shipments of water starting this month.” That grin again.

  “Effectively ending the ease of shipment for the competition!” I smiled now.

  “Exactly!” That should knee Pete right in the groinal region. He frowned now.

  “Of course that is not our main money making hold here in the colony. Nor is it Pete’s.”

  “What? What is, if not the smuggling?” He held up a finger.

  “Robots.” Huh?

  “Robots? How so?” He wagged that finger in front of him.

  “Pete had, and this is quite illegal by company rules, and still has controlling interest in a Robot lend lease outfit. Conflict of interest to lease Robots to the company you work for.” Whoa. Robot leasing, that was a new one!

  “What kind of Robot? Any specific category?” Concern, who had provided Fox for Jake? Winn smiled and shook his head.

  “Don’t worry, we provided Jake with Fox. No, Pete provides Bots for the mine and some Med Bots, as well as some Sex Bots for the Entertainment district. We hold the majority of leases there.” He shook his finger at me again as he stood.

  “Look to the Robots Drew, look to the Robots.” I held up a hand.

  “Could I ask for my favor now?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Real Bushmills. Irish whisky.” He dipped his head once.

  “You shall have it in a month.” He shook my hand, patted Jake on top of his head, looked at me one last time.

  “If you are alive to receive it. Please see that you are.” He bowed and left. I turned to Jake. He was sipping his tea and concentrating on the screen.

  “Come up with anything yet?” He pointed at the screen. Looked over at me.

  “This was rushed work. Not like the earlier stuff. That stuff was tight, compact, well constructed. This is crap by comparison. The time wasn’t taken to bounce it all over the system. It did have a self erase tag on it, but you shut it down before it could take effect. And using the power recharge system to download it, man that’s some hard core Military shit right there. Who came up with that? Where did you think it was from?”

  Bingo, I thought and said,

  “Art.” He shook his head and wagged a finger at the screen.

  “You win. It’s definitely from Art. Put together in the last twenty four to forty eight hours. A real rush job.” He waved at the screen dismissively. I wondered what I had won.

  “Hmm, Karen was originally from Art, was loaned out to Supply, but is now back in Art, head of the Mural Project and Interiors.” Jake looked at me then with real concern.

  “You’d better keep an eye on her man. Be fuckin’ careful.”

  “Amen, brother, amen.” I wondered then if I had won the booby prize.

  I was feeling hungry and tired so I told Jazz to wheel me home. Once there I ensconced myself on the couch and turning on the History Channel found the History of Robots on and ordered up a turkey, bacon, Swiss, and mustard sandwich, and some hot crispy fries. Jazz brought me a cold beer, unasked for but very appreciated. I called Karen, went to voice mail and called Susan. Who answered with a bleary voice. Must have woke her up.

  She didn’t know where Karen was. I tried her work number, but once again, went to voice mail. I had Jazz poke her head into the bedroom. Nada. Soon, after wolfing down my sandwich and crunching down my fries with ice cold ketchup and salt, I was reclining on the sofa drifting off to dreamland. And dreamt...

  Dave was standing in front of a dry erase board on which the word ‘RobotArt’ was written. He leaned forward towards me as I sat up and faced him.

  He pointed at the board and said,

  “Think Drew, think. What is the one thing that connects us? Now.” The room was in color, but Dave was in black and white. He had no eyes. I heard a murmur behind me and looked over the back of the couch to see Karen sucking on Jazzes tits. I was sitting on the bed with them both and Jazz was sucking my cock. Karen was licking her pussy.

  Then I was pounding away at Jazzes tight artificial pussy, while Karen, who had a blissed out look on her face, was sitting on Jazzes face. I was grabbing at Karen’s tits which jiggled with every thrust of my cock into Jazz. We both leaned forward and swapped spit. She leaned back and smiled.

  “I’m too burnt from fucking but this helps.” She came then in a great racking shudder.

  She tumbled from Jazzes face and looking up at me said,

  “Great sex aid.” I had never known her to get off that easy.

  Then I woke up to find Jazz stroking me through my coveralls.

  “Wha?” I said with a thick voice. Jazz was leaning over me. Concern on her face?

  “Karen came in about a half hour ago, and, after telling me to leave you alone, went into the bedroom and conked out.”

  “Good. Shit, what time is it?” I checked my comm link and found I had a half hour to get to Fonagy’s office. Good nap.

  “Almost time to go.” Said Jazz. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and jumped into the wheelchair for the ride to Fonagy’s. I most definitely wasn’t going to miss watching the meeting...

  On the way to Fonagy’s office I noticed what seemed to be a more than normal amount of people in the corridors. I also received a shock. I saw someone riding a bicycle! Bikes had been outlawed on the colony because of traffic control issues. So everyone was relegated to walking or the use of segue personal transports and in the case of major repairs or medical transport the use of four wheeled electric carts was allowed. If you weren’t working or enroute due to some work related issue, you walked. Or used the moving walkway. It was that simple.

  The bike told me that they had opened one of the new residential sections of the city.

  With the expansion of the city into newer and farther quarters, the increased distance to the mine, the port, the main maintenance facility, the admin. center, the entertainment district probab
ly increased commute time, especially since the last thing to be added would be the moving walkway, so it only made sense to allow bikes to maximize efficiency and decrease commute time for those personnel who lived the farthest away from their work sites. Plus I couldn’t imagine the hassles involved with shipping the thing here from Luna. I liked bicycles. I had owned a couple of beautys on Earth.

  I imagined flying along the smooth, flat corridors, yeah, with the lower gravity you get some good speed going, quick. You just had to watch for the cross corridor traffic...

  The thoughts of hauling ass down the halls fled from my mind as we arrived at Security. A clerical Bot ushered us into Fonagy’s office. The right wall of his office was one giant screen of the meeting hall in the Rec Center. He waved me around his desk. He had his computer screen pushed around so that it’s back faced the wall. He was working the console. He pointed at the screen.

  “Hey Drew,” He looked over his should at Jazz and I. “Jazz. How are you holding up?” I shrugged as I caught sight of a view of Pete Simms in close up on his screen over his shoulder. He pointed at his small screen.

  “I’m going to start running some new software, it will focus on Pete and tell us if his pupils are dilating, if his heart rate goes up, if his stress levels rise. Really neat stuff. See if we can get some insight into his reactions to the various announcements he’s going to hear soon.” He looked over at me and grinned a wolf’s leer. He was a hunter on the prowl.

  “What’s with the Bot showing us in?” I asked, curious.

  “Well, they’ve opened a new dock at the port, so now they can handle two ships at a time, and they’ve also opened up a whole new section of the mine, and as a consequence they needed more personnel, which meant a whole new residential section opening up, slowly, but surely, which means more people to be shown their new berths, so to speak, and we like, as humans, to have a real live fellow human first show us our bunk space, so...”