Steal the Demon: A Science-Fiction Novella

by Robert Roth

  “It is definitely a craft worthy of someone with your piloting skills,” Paradox allowed.

  “Thanks.”

  “But this is a dangerous path you’re taking.”

  Kimiko frowned and then took a swig of the Genuine Martian Whiskey that cost more than a month’s rent, never once taking her eyes off the hacker. The amber fluid tasted smokey and vaguely of astringent, and coated her throat in a layer of liquid warmth. She’d ordered it neat, undiluted by water that had already been consumed and evacuated by countless Station residents. Not that she was averse to filtered water. It was all she knew. But if she had to spend that much on one drink, she’d be damned if she watered the fucking thing down. “I don’t need you to tell me about danger, Joe.”

  “No, I don’t suppose that you do. Nonetheless–”

  “What is this?” she interrupted. “Why the sudden concern for my safety? I’ve already paid you.”

  Paradox nodded his agreement. “Indeed, you have. But this concern is not sudden. I’ve looked at your data, Kimiko, and the data says that you’re reckless and prone to rash decisions. Your decision to steal a ship from a notoriously heavy-handed and trigger-happy shipbuilder would support that analysis.”

  Kimiko laughed at the absurdity of his statement. “So, you’re an analyst now?”

  “I’ve always been an analyst. Hacking is merely the tool I use to access data. And now that we’re meeting with one another, I can add more data to my analysis.”

  She frowned again. “Are you looking for reassurance, because–”

  “I want to know why.”

  His face was still sincere, almost serene. Except for a few brief, flickered smiles, his expression had hardly changed at all during their conversation. It would’ve come off as creepy on someone else, but, on such an ordinary-looking face, it suited him well enough. And Kimiko had to admit that it was fair for him to wonder about her motives. Paradox’s legend was well known, and he had both the reputation and the evidence to back it up. But Kimiko was orbiting well outside her general areas of expertise. “The Confederation did this to me,” she said, finally, her voice tight and controlled. “They took everything from me–my family, my crew, my livelihood. Just because somewhere, someone’s bottom line was off by a few meager tenths of a percent. But I still tried to do things their way. I took my licks, and put my name in orbit for a new gig–any gig that would get me behind the stick again. And that didn’t work.” She took another swig of her whiskey. “But the real reason, I suppose, is that I want to hurt them for what they did to my father and me. And the only way I know how to hurt them is to hit them on the bottom fucking line.”

  “And Al-Zamani was somehow responsible for your father’s–”

  She scoffed. “Don’t be dim, Joe. They’re part of the Corporate Confederation, too. Hurt one of them hard enough, and you hurt all of them.”

  Paradox examined her intensely while he held back his response. “I was once a tool of the Confederation,” he finally confessed, “something that my corporate masters felt comfortable using, then discarding once I started to question what they were having me do. While I would caution you that they are not a force to be trifled with, I understand the desire to cause them difficulty.”

  Kimiko hadn’t known that about him. She doubted that many others did, either. She wanted very much to learn more about what that meant, but she knew well enough to leave it alone for the time being. If he wanted her to know, he’d tell her. “That sounds terrible.”

  He frowned slightly. “It was.” Then his pained expression returned to its usual serenity. “I appreciate your indulgence of my curiosity, and your candor. Although I had no intention of judging your motives, I am grateful to learn that they coincide with my own.”

  She nodded. “So, now what?”

  “Now, perhaps we should review your plan.”

  “Of course.”

  As plans went, hers was deceptively simple. All of the best plans were. Kimiko had learned early on that the more complicated things got, the more likely it was that something would go wrong once things were put into motion. After she met with Paradox, she intended to meet up with a pilot who’d once worked for her father and still owed her a favor. The pilot worked as a glorified shuttle driver, ferrying personnel and cargo back and forth between Davida Station and Al-Zamani. He’d tentatively agreed to smuggle her inside the shipyard’s facilities. That was how Kimiko planned to get past the perimeter. Once inside, she would use the makeshift route she’d constructed, along with the plans and schematics Paradox had just given her, to locate the proper terminal to access Al-Zamini’s internal Net and find the Shaitan’s control codes.

  “That’s where you come in,” she told him.

  Paradox nodded, and his eyes flickered up and to the left. Kimiko took that as a sign he was checking something on the local Net. He was probably implanted, which made sense. Since the Net was where he made his living, he would want constant access to it. She was implanted too, but hers were just the standard Pilot and Nav interface, allowing her to directly interact with a ship’s Flight-Comp and Nav AI. He looked back down at her and nodded again. “Of course. To that end, I’ve prepared a device that should satisfy your needs.”

  Paradox reached into a pocket and pulled out a compact, matte-black cube, approximately five cms long on each side. He set it down onto the table between them, and Kimiko picked it up and examined it. There was a standard access port along one side and a small input pad on the top. She tapped the input pad and was immediately notified that the device was requesting access to her P/N-interface. Surprised, she dropped it back onto the table.

  “What the hell!” she exclaimed.

  He shook his head and picked it up. “Do not be alarmed, Kimiko. This device contains a Quantum Entanglement Datastream node. All I need you to do is bring the QED node into the facility with you, and then sync it to their internal Net.” He set it back down onto the table between them. “Al-Zamani takes IP security very seriously. Their Net-sec is top of the line, with firewalls that are AI monitored and maintained, along with a dedicated AI solely tasked with intrusion countermeasures. While I’m confident that I could eventually tunnel into their internal Net from the outside, it would be highly impractical, especially given your timeline. With this,” he explained, tapping the device, “it will be as if I’m coming along with you inside the facility. Once this is connected to their internal Net, it will be easy for me to find the information you need and subvert any security systems you may encounter, including those at the dock. After all, it won’t do you much good to gain access to the craft if you can’t even exit the docking bay. Additionally, I can connect to your interface through it, so that we can remain in communication even once you’re past the firewall.”

  A Quantum Entanglement Datastream node? That sort of thing wasn’t at all easy to come by. She thought back to some of the jobs she’d heard about Paradox pulling. She knew that he’d been successful, but just how successful? She picked up the QED node and looked at it again, silently revising her estimation of his monetary means significantly upward. “This seems like a great solution to the problem.” Then she set it back down and slid it closer to him. “I don’t really have the creds for something like this, though.”

  “Ah, no, I don’t imagine you could afford to acquire one of these on your own.” Then he reached down and slid it back to her side of the table. “Thankfully, I brought this one for you.”

  She shook her head. “How much more are you gonna charge me for this?”

  Paradox laughed. He was either a master at negotiating, or terrible at it. Kimiko honestly wasn’t sure. “Charge you? I thought I’d already made it clear that I intended to help you, Kimiko. There will be no additional charge.”

  No charge? What sort of game was he playing? “Okay, let’s say I accept that you don’t want any more money from me. You still want something from me, though, right?”

  He sighed. “I thought I’d made that clear, as
well. I want you to carry this device into the facility with you, and then connect it to the Al-Zamani Net inside their firewalls.”

  And then she got it. Aside from their mutual desire for revenge, Kimiko had assumed that she was the only one with something to gain from her operation. But, it turned out, he also had something to gain from it, something he needed inside of Al-Zamani, too. She was tempted to agree, then and there. But she hadn’t earned her pilot’s reputation by being completely careless, either. She wanted to hear him say it. “And if I do that, what do you get out of it?”

  He smiled. “I will gain access to an exceedingly secure Net full of highly sought-after, proprietary IP, among other things.”

  That was fair. As long as everybody involved had something to gain, there was less risk of some joe deciding to cut and run when things got a little heated. Or, worse, coming down with a sudden case of sound, corporate citizenship, and calling in the CSG. “Okay, Joe.” She picked up the device and slid it into the pocket inside of her jacket. “Is there anything else?”

  He nodded. “We need to talk about your gear.”

  “My gear?” She’d planned to wear her old, well-used, but still serviceable jumpsuit, flight jacket, and pilot’s helmet. They weren’t the best that money could buy, but they’d always worked for her before.

  “Yes, your gear. I’ve made some additional arrangements for you. You should return to the retail concourse and find a shop called Practical Utility. They will be expecting you.”

  She’d heard of the shop before. It was a chain, with locations all over the system, including Motherlode. They offered some of the highest quality gear on and off the retail market, including custom, bespoke equipment. It was also, despite the name, outrageously expensive. “What sort of arrangements? I can’t afford anything they sell, and I’m certainly not about to start my thieving career with a little light shoplifting.”

  Paradox laughed. “The thieving, in this case, is all mine, Kimiko. Go to the shop. Ask for Marek.” He pushed back his chair and stood up. “In the meantime, I will await your next contact.”

  He started to walk away, but she reached out and grabbed one of his sleeves. He stiffened immediately but stopped.

  “When I connect with this,” she asked, tapping her pocket, “I can communicate directly with you?”

  He nodded. “Yes. The QED will allow us to communicate undetected, since it does not transmit any measurable energy wavelengths, aside from the short-range connection between the device and your interface, which will be heavily encrypted. It’s technically possible for those to be detected somehow. It’s also technically possible for my encryption to be broken. But If Al-Zamani has that capability, which I highly doubt, then there is no chance for success in this operation, anyway.”

  Talk about being optimistic. But Paradox was the expert hacker, not her. “Yeah, okay.” Then she remembered her manners. “Thank you.”

  He smiled. “Thank me when we’re done.”

  She let go of his arm and then watched him walk away. His gait was smooth, but a little stiff. It was unusual, but certainly no more so than the rest of his behavior had been. Paradox had been nosy, but he’d also been way more forthcoming with her than Kimiko had expected. He was undoubtedly an odd one.

  Kimiko grabbed her drink and swallowed the last of her whiskey, savoring its dry, almost nutty flavor. There were still a couple of hours to kill before she met up with the pilot, so she got up from the table, leaving the empty glass behind to be cleared by the bar staff, and went off in search of the Station’s retail concourse.

  2

  Practical Utility

  Davida Station was a little older, as far as Belt stations went, although it was new enough to be constructed without the need for spin-grav. It had clearly been well maintained, but the signs of aging were still there if you looked for them. The high-traffic flooring felt just soft enough to be comfortable as she walked along, although she could tell where traffic patterns were starting to wear into it. The greenery planted along the sides of the corridor, underneath the indirect, full-spectrum lighting, was well-manicured, but was also lush and mature in a way that a newer station could never have achieved. The viewports set periodically along the corridor walls were almost flawless, although, in at least one of them, she noticed where a group of pixels had failed, betraying it as the viewscreen it really was. You seldom saw actual windows in deep-space builds, since they were usually a structural weakness. But there was some kind of a deeply ingrained, maybe even genetic, need for people to be able to look outside, and the viewscreens served that purpose well enough.

  Kimiko didn’t know if Davida Station Admin had done the same when setting up the non-public areas. But the money they made mining the Davida asteroid flowed like water from a ground well–and showed no signs of abating any time soon–so she guessed that the non-public sections of the station were probably just as decent.

  She mentally replayed the meeting with Paradox as she walked toward the retail concourse. It had gone really well, easily surpassing what she’d predicted to be her best-case scenario. Had things gone too well, though? It was possible. Paradox hadn’t been what she expected at all. Hackers were always portrayed as larger than life in the vids, with outlandish styles and personalities to match. But her hacker was so ordinary he was almost invisible. Like the messages he’d sent, he was deliberate with his language and forthcoming, virtually to a fault. He’d otherwise been nothing but friendly and helpful, and she’d so far gotten what she needed from him at a price she could certainly afford. Taking his QED node into the Shipyard facilities would not be a problem, especially with what he claimed he could accomplish with it. Knowing that he wasn’t acting purely out of altruism was greased up, too. She’d dealt with too many smugglers to believe he was merely some misunderstood do-gooder only committing crimes that benefited those in need. And she was still well within her abort timeframe, although she wasn’t sure if abandoning her operation was even a consideration. Not for the first time since she’d set out on her current path, she questioned her own intentions. Was she really cut out to be a thief?

  It wasn’t that she lacked the skills for it. Working as a full-time pilot and courier for a semi-legal organization like her father’s meant that she’d knowingly and willingly participated in smuggling. She didn’t have any moral qualms with that. The Corporate Confederation was an oppressive, soulless, behemoth that weighed down heavily on ordinary corporate citizens like herself. But what it did to the outliers–those unlucky or unfortunate enough to run afoul of the system, or worse, get stuck outside of it–was outright cruel. And smuggling required many of the skills she needed to pull off her plan. Kimiko had the ability and finesse to sneak in and out of places. She was a kick-ass pilot, so she knew she’d be able to get the ship away from the Shipyard without getting caught, even if she were chased. And years of training–not to mention loading and unloading all that cargo–had made her fit as a high-grav gymnast. But, until she carried out her operation, she was still only a pilot and a smuggler. Afterward, she would also be an outright thief, which felt like she’d be crossing a line–one that she wouldn’t be able to come back from.

  Her father undoubtedly crossed a similar line at some point. Kimiko wished that she could talk to him again and ask him for advice. She’d done so already, in her head, many times since his arrest. You are trained for this, she imagined he would say. You have the skills, drive, and motivation that are required. The only real question is one of your needs. Is this the correct path for you? Based on your circumstances, do you need to do it? Only you can answer that for yourself.

  For her, the answer to that question was still yes. Piloting was in her blood. It was her life. To live a life without getting into the cockpit of some ship, any ship, and taking it far out across the system and back, was something that she couldn’t imagine. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t already tried the legitimate route. The Confederation hadn’t revoked her license, after all, and she’d
applied for every pilot position she found on the job board. A mind-numbingly boring gig like piloting a ferry between Motherlode and the Ceres Orbitals would’ve been something, at least for a while. But she couldn’t even get hired for that. Not even the small-time, indie outfits would touch her. And it was far too late in the game to go full legit and pilot for the Confederation directly. Their pilots almost exclusively came right out of the CDF or the CSG. She definitely didn’t have the background for that.

  She explored the retail concourse for a while before she finally spotted the Practical Utility shop. It was easy to miss among the cacophony of retail noise and visuals that assaulted shoppers. The shop’s exterior looked understated but expensive, eschewing the flashy holographics and sound-field broadcasts favored by its neighbors. Instead, it was artfully distressed in a muted palette that supposedly told potential shoppers the items inside were once-in-a-lifetime purchases that would last for as long as you needed them to. Kenji would’ve described stuff like that as heirloom quality–as in the kind of things you passed on to your descendants–and he would’ve hated the style. There was no flash.

  Kimiko loved it, though. She’d always preferred substance over style, and often dreamed of having the creds to shop in places like that. The first thing she noticed as she walked into the shop was the smell. It had the scent of a brand new flight suit, or maybe the inside of a brand new cockpit, and instantly made her feel at home. Undoubtedly, the aroma had been meticulously crafted and refined to achieve that effect on her. The side walls were each lined with holo-displays showing the different flight and utility suits on offer. But the rotating display in the center of the small show floor was what caught her eye. She immediately recognized the new Kuījiǎ Adventure flight suit and helmet combo. Demonstrating the latest advancements in nano-tech, the suit was a sleek, black, body-hugging little number that managed top ratings as an enviro-suit on top of its standard body armor and defensive capabilities, as the company name implied.