“Don’t fret over it,” said Nur. “The delay will be minimal. Our underground friends will soon be playing by the rules they were meant to.” A pause. “Of course, you dear, sweet, nervous boy. Fear is money.”
The male voice warbled, somewhat calmer. Risa picked out the words ‘defense spending,’ ‘fortune,’ and something about investments. The last bit went up in tone at the end, a question.
“That was their damn fault for picking a bleeding heart to stick in control over there.” Nur emitted a haughty laugh. “The military forgets the people are in charge, not their generals… and I am the people.”
Mumbling came out of the NetMini, something about ‘that problem.’
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about her, Andreas. It seems our wayward daughter has gone all soft and mushy. I’m not sure. The intel I’ve seen says she’s plucked a Scrap off the street and decided to raise it as her own child.”
At the woman referring to Kree as an ‘it,’ Risa scowled, and flexed her fingers. She’d never know what hit her.
The man muttered a longer response.
“Oh, yes… Touching, really.” Nur sighed, an eye roll clear in her tone. “Probably full of all sorts of diseases. Anyway, it suits our purpose. Everett doesn’t have the balls to challenge me in an open inquest, and he’s certainly not going to risk getting more directly involved. You, and your fortune, have nothing to worry about, my dear.”
The NetMini warbled with the unintelligible male voice.
“I assume the others as well. Everyone profits from a little planetary skirmish, no?” Nur chuckled. “Grand. I’ll see you then.”
Risa stopped staring at the door and typed feverishly at the holographic keyboard. She triggered a system restart, which should clear the disabler soft as well as allow the system to recognize the newly ‘installed’ wireless connection. A sheen of metallic silver appeared and spread over the sprayed area. She stopped breathing as the concealed door creaked open.
“Are you done yet? Don’t they train you people?” Nur frowned.
“Yes.” Risa sprang from the chair, hoping her fast motion would distract the woman from noticing the desk. “I re-synced the system clock with the network, but it had to restart. It should be fine now, ma’am.”
The Senator stormed past her. Risa pivoted in place, paralyzed with dread. The metallic luster in the spray path had vanished. Silver wires thinner than human hair had become invisible, sealed to the fake wood by the formerly liquid substrate. Her heart resumed beating.
“You’re still here?” Senator Nur sat at the desk. “Do you need to do anything else with this thing or are you wasting taxpayer credits?”
“Making sure it reboots okay so you don’t have to call us back up here, ma’am.”
Nur’s expression remained unreadable. She could’ve been amused at someone not eager to run away from her, or annoyed at the intrusion. Her face shimmered from cyan to white as the holo-panel reinitialized and rendered into a desktop. The older woman tapped an icon, which opened a black and green login prompt.
She’s going right for the shadow net…
“Good. It’s working. You know where the door is.”
Risa rendered a slight bow, and walked out.
23
Open Door Policy
Risa watched the deep-brown melt out of her skin in her reflection on the gel tank. One minute later, Rebecca Marsh was gone. Two of the soldiers in facing tubes stared at her, though she got the sense her chameleon act interested them more than her tits. Anyone who’d gone through boot camp had lost sensitivity to group nudity. Between showers and jump tanks, privacy was too expensive to worry about, not to mention barriers between soldiers and their weapons lockers could kill.
The full-body tingling of the gel’s nanobots devouring the spray-on coating faded. Anything not living or metal exposed to the tank fluid seemed to disintegrate, considered ‘contamination’ by the life-support system. Risa let a long sigh of breathable gel out her nostrils, reveling in no longer feeling as though she’d been plastic-wrapped.
She hung weightless in the viscous skin-temperature goo, ticking down the seconds until the DS4 would take her home. Everett could’ve made her take a civilian ride back to Mars, anywhere from fourteen to twenty days’ travel, but he didn’t. The military transport seemed he did a lot of bending over backwards for someone who wanted to walk away.
Much to her amazement, she’d made it out of the senate chambers without incident. Having to finish her eight-hour shift hadn’t been too bad after all. Simpson reacted with surprise to her return from Nur’s office. The girl figured ‘Rebecca’ would wind up escorted out of the building, exiled off to some ‘remote listening post on Mars’. That Risa wound up going to Mars on purpose struck her as ironic. Maybe she could get used to the whole ‘day job’ thing. Simpson sure needed the help, and the company. A twinge of guilt came on at leaving the woman to face the mountain of installs alone… but she’d rather be home.
Raziel?
Clanking made her open her eyes. A brown-haired woman and a fortyish man with salt-and-pepper black hair sprinted in, stripping as they ran. They tossed their flight suits on a bench before climbing into tanks. Guess they finished programming the jump.
Change your mind? asked Raziel, a voice in her head.
Gel flooded her lungs with a deep breath, streaming out her nostrils on the exhale. I have information. You say you’re there to help the people of Mars. Have you thought about what I said? About fighting two wars at once?
I have.
Risa shivered as a pump kicked on, creating a current down her back. The problems we’ve been having are all coming from Senator Marta Nur. She’s involved in some kind of back-room deal with a man named Andreas. That woman is the one sending the false-flag operations.
Raziel’s hmm washed over her brain. I don’t see you anywhere.
I’m in a military dropship about to jump. There’s a temporary nano-antenna on the Senator’s terminal. You can get into an island net full of secrets. 00EE.18AD.158F.FFFC.989E. I don’t trust Everett’s people to finish this the right way. Please go digging. Find something to bury this bitch before she kills everyone I’ve ever known… for money.
Raziel remained quiet. Lights outside the tube flickered on. Risa started, realizing she’d slumped from unconsciousness. A mechanical clunk shook the gel an instant before the whirr of pumps chewed on her eardrums. She waved her hands, pushing herself down to kneel on the base of the tank, still aspirating gel. One of the worst mistakes newbies made was to attempt breathing air as soon as their head breached the surface, before they could bend down to clear it all. Few things hurt like half a lungful of gel, even if a person could overpower the primal fear of drowning.
The soldiers did the same, crouching low and waiting for the slurp of an empty tank before coughing up the peach-colored liquid. Risa earned a few respectful looks at her blasé response to going from gel to air breathing.
She kept her face near the floor, huffing and coughing until nothing other than air came out. Of course, the soldiers finished getting their uniforms on and tromped out of the room before she finished clearing her airway, a product of routine. Risa slipped in the gel, pulled to her right by the ship executing a turn. She managed to steer her fall to a flop on an ice-cold metal floor, and crawled to the towel rack. Not bothering to attempt standing while coated in slipperiness, she pulled a towel down and rolled into it.
Interesting, said Raziel. I am grateful for your trust in providing me this information.
She huddled on the floor, hugging herself with the embrace of warm cloth. I know it’s not the perfect world you want, where there’s no ACC or UCF on Mars. Happy anarchy isn’t going to work. Look at human nature. Maybe we can change things, but we can’t do anything dead.
Risa waited a moment, but he didn’t reply. Worry swam around in her gut as she dried off and dressed. Minutes later, beeping in her head announced a re-established connection to the MarsNet. As soon a
s the login process ended, she called home. By the third ring, she’d stopped breathing. When it went to Vidmail, anxiety brought her to the verge of clawing a hole in the ship’s hull so she could jump out and run home faster.
No! dammit. What happened!
She dialed again, and again it rang to Vidmail. After a moment of staring at the wall and shaking, she sprang to her feet and dashed down the hall. Three soldiers in the ready room looked up as she raced past. Twenty feet later, she stopped herself by grabbing the sides of the cockpit doorway and leaned through, peering down a narrow stairway on the left of two pilot chairs. The more distant helmet hovered at boot level.
The canopy, which she hoped was solid metal with an electronic display, tinted mostly brick red. Mars filled it, though remained far enough away to appear like a ‘planet’ rather than the landscape.
“How long ’til we land?”
“About half an hour,” said the woman in the higher seat.
Risa tried to make sense of the controls, but her pilot skill chip didn’t include spacecraft. She whined. “Any way to hurry it up? I think something’s happened.”
“We are hurrying.” The pilot in front glanced back at her and shook his head. “You should go sit before you get thrown into something painful.”
Sick with worry, Risa forced herself back down the narrow connecting passage between cockpit and a forward storage room full of weapons lockers. After returning to the gel tank area to get dressed, she walked into the ready room, where she fell into a corner chair. One of the soldiers had ’semmed an egg sandwich, which flooded the entire area with the smell of breakfast.
“Hey, Ell Tee,” said the soldier with no food. “Something you wanna tell us? You look like someone got shot.”
Her heart pounded in her head. Her brain tormented her with ghastly things she’d see when she got home. Blood. A too-small body. Or worse―an empty apartment with no answers. She covered her face in her hands and rocked in the seat. “I don’t―”
Beep.
Genevieve appeared floating in front of her. 「Hey.」
「Don’t do that to me!」 screamed Risa. Though her voice remained in cyberspace, the Marine quirked an eyebrow at the look that must’ve been on her face.
「Whoa!」 Genevieve held up her hands. 「Something wrong with a girl taking a shit? I was in the bathroom when you called.」
Risa melted into the chair, staring at the ceiling. Genevieve’s apparition rose, appearing to float horizontal over her. 「Sorry. I’m a little wound up.」 “I’m good. Just paranoid.” She smiled at the soldiers. “How’s the coffee out of that thing?”
「Ya think?」 asked Genevieve.
Both soldiers laughed.
The one with food shook his head. “The same as any other military-issue java. Strip the paint off a DS4.”
“That’s what I’m used to.” Risa trudged over to the reassembler. 「Shit. I thought something had happened. I’m in orbit now, should be home in about an hour. How’s Kree?」
「Adorable. She’s worried about you, but being a trooper. Logged in to her classes right now. Oh, you should’ve seen how red Aurelia turned last night. Kree asked if she could be the flower girl at our wedding.」 Genevieve blushed, giggled, and bit her lip. 「I hope she proposes, but I don’t wanna rush things. Aura almost fainted.」
Risa breathed a sigh of relief, and took a sip of the most brutal black coffee she’d ever tasted. 「You two make a beautiful couple. Damn this stuff is strong.」
「Thanks, and what?」
「Coffee. See you soon.」
「Oh.」 Genevieve made the face she used to make whenever she’d forgotten something big. 「Oh, some Asian guy stopped by here looking for you. Said he needed to discuss something important.」
「Shiro?」 Risa scowled. 「What’s he up to?」
「I have no idea what his name was. Looked like a sales weasel if you ask me.」
「Wearing all white?」
「No.」 Genevieve’s red hair flopped about in a wild tangle as she shook her head. 「Cheap black suit.」
Her sense of relief died a withering death. Dark clouds of worry circled like buzzards overhead. The need to get back to Kree before something happened got her hands twitching with adrenaline. She drifted to the corner and sat on the edge of the chair, forearms across her knees with the coffee cradled in two hands.
「Stay alert, okay, Gen? Please. I’ll be there as soon as I can.」
24
Twelve Hours
For three days, Risa kept the blinds drawn and the windows at full tint. Whenever Kree looked over, Risa smiled and acted upbeat. A Hotaru-6 was never more than two feet from her hand at any time, except in the shower. Her first night home, she’d brought Kree to bed with her like a living teddy bear. The girl didn’t mind, but Risa didn’t sleep. Hours passed, alternating between paranoia, fear, and the heart-smashing thought she needed to distance herself from Kree before something happened. She’d stared at the clock until it read 24:39:35, and jumped to the next day.
Day two, she spent pacing the apartment from front to back, checking the hallway cam on one end and staring out the windows of the main bedroom on the other. Nothing seemed out of place, yet the quiet bothered her more than a strange Asian man showing up unannounced. Tamashī couldn’t find anything on him. Whoever it had been didn’t show up on any image feeds. Her friend suggested either someone better than her at electronic manipulation altered the video, or Genevieve had had a vivid dream.
On day three, Kree gave her odd looks every so often, but said nothing.
The scuff of bare feet on carpet broke the silence in Risa’s bedroom. She angled her eyes down, peering over herself at a little head of black hair passing by the foot end of her Comforgel pad.
Kree walked up alongside her and leaned on the gel mattress. “What’s wrong?”
Risa sat up and slid over to sit on the edge. “I’m okay.”
Kree crawled up next to her. “No. You’re not. You have the windows closed, the lights off, and you carry the gun all the time.” She looked down. “You don’t even smile anymore.”
I’m going nuts. Shiro said it, and I’m doing it. “I don’t know why I’m jumping at shadows.” She put an arm around the girl. “You’re right. It’s not good to stay inside all the time. When you’re done with school, we’ll go to the park.”
Kree smiled. “It’s Saturday.”
Risa wiped her eyes. Damn. Week gone already? She chuckled inside at ‘Saturday,’ at how she once viewed the imposition of Earth’s system on Mars to be an instrument of domination. At nineteen, she’d gotten into a shouting match involving calendars. According to ‘true Mars’ time, she had been 10.09 years old. At the time, she didn’t want to be called nineteen, especially around her boyfriend. Damn, what was his name? She pictured a grime-stained face, a man with wild hair and beard. She wanted to say Robison… Robinson… Roberts…
He’d died four months later. Legged by an ACC sniper and used as bait, but he’d bled out before anyone could get to him.
I’d install a million operating systems on a million terminals to spare Kree from that life.
“Saturday. Okay.” Risa stood. “Window, clear.”
The windows lightened until they all but vanished, so transparent the bedroom didn’t even appear to have a wall anymore. Risa raised a hand to her face, squinting at the invasion of daylight into her personal space. The sun, distant as it was, glared from a cloudless sky over shimmering silver buildings.
She left the laser pistol on the nightstand and walked Kree to the kitchen, where they both had cereal. After tossing the bowls in the machine, she ordered a pair of short dresses, one for herself and one for Kree. Same style, though white for her and yellow for the child. On a lark, she also picked out matching foam sandals. Going outside without heavy boots felt almost as awkward as streaking, but she wanted to try experiencing the whole ‘grass in her toes’ thing.
The atmosphere field kept Arcadia at a comfo
rtable summer temperature this time of year, much more pleasant than the near-freezing wind outside the dome. In flagrant disregard of Mars, Arcadia City kept an Earthly sense of season, simulating winter, spring, summer, and autumn regardless of where in orbit they happened to be. She found the adjustment to ‘weather’ annoying, having spent most of her life in underground cities where they didn’t bother, keeping it ‘room temperature’ more or less constantly. In some ways, living in a subterranean city felt a lot like being a crewmember of an immense starship that had nowhere to be and eternity to get there. Terraforming had done much to warm the planet over several centuries, though it remained too cold for comfort most of the year.
As far north as Araphel, the winter could hit -160˚F or worse.
However, the whole ‘going outside on a summer day and running around barefoot in the grass’ thing did have a certain charm to it. Perhaps she could get used to ‘seasons,’ though already knew she’d hate the winter.
Beeping distracted her from her mental wandering. A delivery bot hovered by the front door. Fear welled up, but she kept it at arm’s length. To her relief, the hovering box merely dropped off what she’d purchased and didn’t bother with complimentary explosives or poison.
The new dress hung a touch less than halfway down her thigh and left her shoulders bare. Nowhere to hide a gun. She grumbled. Guess I’ll have to be all normal and stuff and carry a bag. While Kree played with her sandals, Risa ducked into the back and rummaged drawers she hadn’t touched since moving in. A silver purse, the same one she’d taken to Shiro’s apartment, lurked under a stack of folded T-shirts in the fourth one she checked. Risa had cheated. Rather than fold them herself, she’d sent more or less her entire floordrobe off to a delivery-bot laundry service and put them away still in the individual plastic wrap.
Her Mems, moddable shoes that could go from flats to high heels in a few seconds, remained inside. She pulled the blue plastic slabs out and dropped them in the drawer. Not going to let that son of a bitch ruin this. I need to wear them out somewhere with Pavo. She grinned, thinking of teasing him by wearing only the Mems one night when he showed up.
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