by Elin Wyn
And that was true. I didn’t used to be.
“It started on the Star.”
Her face paled.
Ronan had told her what had happened to us there. I hoped he hadn’t shared too many details.
“It wasn’t what they did to me.” It was too late to try to reassure her now, probably. “It was... It was what they did to Nadira. And Loree.” I hated saying her name aloud, knowing she didn’t feel the same way towards me. Void, didn’t even remember me.
She pulled back, frowned. “Loree. My patient? Red hair, nice girl. Bit of a smartass?”
“Yes,” I bit out. “That Loree.”
“Didn’t realize you knew her.” Doc checked her tablet again. “You’re fine. Showing a lot of stress. But all in all I don’t think you’re deteriorating.”
“That makes no sense. When she’s around I can’t focus, can’t think straight…”
She pulled the sensor off my head and I sat up. “Come in for a daily workup for the next while, and we’ll keep an eye on things.”
“Thanks, but what should I do about Loree?” I bit my tongue. “I mean, about how I’m reacting around her?”
“I should’ve gotten somebody to come out and give you boys dating advice, apparently.” Doc turned away to put away her tools. “Void knows I wasn’t much good at it.”
The idea of Doc dating froze my brain for just a moment so that I missed her next few words.
“As long as you’re not too much of an idiot, I’m sure it’ll work out.”
Don’t be an idiot. That seemed like a reasonable goal. I could aim for that.
“Are you in there, you, you old quack?” a voice hollered from the far end of the lab.
“Damn,” Doc muttered. “That woman, she’s such a drama queen.”
I goggled, staring at Doc and her tablet and her brilliant brain that let her conceive of ways to shuffle and splice the genomic code of anyone, anything.
Who could she possibly think was over-dramatic?
An older woman, braids bound behind a kerchief, came stomping in through the lab, carrying a solemn little girl.
Of course. Granny Z, former pirate Queen.
Doc broke into a broad grin when she saw the toddler. “Come here, Vicki, let’s talk about what you’d like for a new pet.”
Vicki held one arm up but kept hold of one of Granny Z’s braids.
“Both grandmas today,” she declared.
Granny Z and Doc glared at each other, then surrendered to the demanding will of a three-year-old tyrant.
“Of course,” Doc conceded. “What would you like to do?”
I grabbed my shirt and snuck out before Vicki wrapped me around her tiny fingers, too.
Back on the deck, the edgy feeling skittering under my skin returned, pooling into my gut.
I needed to find Loree.
No.
I wanted to find Loree, but she’d made it clear she needed space.
The thought of her wandering alone, vulnerable, on the station, drove a wild spike of rage behind my eyes.
Except she wasn’t alone. Nadira was with her. And I knew from the Star I shouldn’t underestimate either of them.
I remembered, even if she didn’t.
A growl from the commlink broke into my thoughts. “Why haven’t you logged some rack time yet?”
“Still wired. Nothing big.” The last thing I wanted to do was explain the situation to Davien.
After the destruction of the Daedalus, he’d found Kara. Or she’d found him. I hadn’t gotten clear on the story yet, but obviously things had worked out for them.
It didn’t look like that was going to be the case with me and Loree.
“Kid, didn’t you just get in a few hours ago?”
“Yeah, but I’m not old yet.” As soon as the words left my lips, I knew I’d made a mistake.
“Fine,” he snapped. “Go meet up with Lorcan. He’s helping the new guys with the patrol on section 28G.”
Not just the Lowers. The Unders. The half-lit wild underbelly of the station. Perfect. I headed down to the sub level and lost myself in the routine of stopping trouble before it started for the next few hours.
Orem station might not have true night and day, and ships came in and out of the dock at all hours, but by the time we’d broken up the fifth bar fight of the evening, I wondered if maybe Granny should consider enforcing a mid-afternoon closing time, even in the wildness of the Under levels. Some of those places didn’t look like they’d been shut down in years. Void, some of their patrons might have been drinking in the same dark corners since they opened.
Not really my problem, but the guards Granny Z had recruited to help keep Orem safe, if not legal, were looking a little ragged.
“That’s it for me tonight.” Lorcan stretched the kinks out of his neck as we left the guardhouse.
“The next team should be heading out in an hour or so,” I said. “I’m going to grab a bite to eat, then give them a hand.”
Lorcan shook his head. “That’s a lousy idea. Come on.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and dragged me off with him.
“What are you doing?” I pushed against him, then gave in.
“You know better than to run full out unless you need to.” He spun me away then used the ultimate threat. “Don’t make me tell Doc on you.”
I snorted. “What’s your idea of downtime? You’re not heading back to that shop where that woman made all the little trinkety things, are you? You couldn’t stop talking to her earlier.”
“Jewelry. Not trinkety things.” Lorcan shrugged. “Nicely made stuff, actually. But no, she’s probably closed for the night.” He headed down the deck. “You’ll find out when we get there.”
Back up in the Lowers, we hit a residential zone. Kids ran in and out of buildings while a few adults clustered on steps, watching over them while chatting.
The patrol shift, the shock of seeing Loree, all of it must have caught up with me, because I couldn’t keep the puzzled look from my face.
“Not what you were expecting?” Lorcan said.
“I’ve given up expecting anything sensible from you,” I grumbled, but followed him up the stairs of a small building, nestled between two of the larger hives.
Eris opened the door before he knocked, her long curls spilling over her shoulders, black squiggles on the bright pink loose top.
“Come on in, Connor’s cooking dinner.”
A few steps from the door the entryway opened to a sitting room. A soft tan couch took up a quarter of the space, with other chairs and small tables pulled around in a messy circle, as if visitors were expected.
Of course.
Lorcan had pinged them while we were on patrol.
Around the corner of the room Connor stood at a counter, slashing at a pile of vegetables with a long knife while a hot pan spat oil behind him.
“He’s getting better,” Eris teased.
“Only because you refused, and I don’t think the baby should only eat field rations,” he answered lightly.
“I know my limits.” She sank into the couch, then fought her way back to perch on the edge. “Granny keeps saying we should move into a larger house, but this feels enormous.”
Compared to the living quarters of the Seeker, it probably was.
Lorcan and I sat opposite her, and I examined the silver cube on one of the side tables curiously. “Never seen Nixie so silent. She get shy all of a sudden?”
Eris laughed. “Hardly. She’s been trying to get into Imperial System Security, see if they have new information on Stanton Grene. She’s taking their cyber defenses as a personal insult. It’s taking all of her resources.”
Connor glanced at the silver box. “The house is pretty quiet when she’s busy.”
I met his eyes and didn’t need to be able to read minds to tell how upset he was by that.
Not a bit.
“Here, try this.” Eris reached into a small box by the side of the couch and tossed Lorcan a bottle, then another t
o me, the chill of the metal refreshing in my grip.
“I’m not sure if I can handle the smell of more alcohol,” I joked.
“You’re the one who volunteered for patrol,” Lorcan said, and opened the top. “Besides, this is the good stuff.”
Eris grinned as I took a tentative sip, then another. Lorcan was right, it was.
“I’ve been doing a little distilling since I may be grounded in the next few months. I’ll need something to keep me busy.”
“When do you think it, I mean, the baby will come?” No points for being the graceful uncle there.
“We’re assuming this should take the normal nine months,” Eris started.
“But we’re not taking any chances.” Connor broke in. “It could be longer or shorter. Somehow Doc didn’t think about what would happen if we passed our genes on in the more traditional way.”
Connor carried a steaming bowl of greens and noodles to the table and helped Eris off the couch.
“Do you know if it’s a girl or a boy yet?” Lorcan asked.
“Doc and Nixie know, but I’ve asked them not to tell us.”
I cocked an eye at the silent silver cube. “How’s that working out?”
“She’s doing better now, really.” Eris slid into a chair at the table, and we followed suit. “Besides, I think she might be a little afraid. Doc and Loree each had a chat with her.” She glanced guiltily at me at Loree’s name, but I shook my head.
Here, with the warmth of my family beside me, nothing should bother me.
But the feeling in my gut stayed. Where was Loree?
Loree
“Sorry, Missy,” Klayson rumbled over the noise and bustle of the bazaar swirling around us. “I haven’t heard of anything that’d be a good use of your skill. But I’ll keep my ears open.” A smile split his dark face. “It’s good to see you around.”
I nodded, chest tight. Klayson’s booth had been my last stop of the morning’s plan. I’d visited enough old haunts that morning that were now long gone. I’d been out of the scene for too long. No one seemed to have any leads on where I could pick up some work.
Void, at this point I’d even take a drone level position, doing any number of tasks better handled by an AI, but humans were cheaper. Mind numbing, boring work, but it’d be something.
My stomach rumbled and heat flooded my face. Luckily the noise and chatter of the surrounding bazaar covered it up. Or maybe Klayson was too much of a gentleman to say anything.
I brushed the credit in my pocket with the tip of my finger. Nadira had forced me to take them when I headed out this morning. I appreciated both her generosity and her friendship, but I couldn’t keep relying on her.
I knew better than to believe I could rely on anyone forever.
“Let me see what you’ve got in the way of blockers,” I asked. Lunch might be welcome, but new components would get me situated, ready to take the job that I had to believe would come in, eventually.
I’d been hungry before. It wouldn’t kill me to do it again.
Klayson drummed his fingers on the table. “I do have a few items that might work for you. Come take a seat, Missy, I’ll step into the back and see what we’ve got.” He disappeared behind the drapes concealing his merchandise from view.
He always had the best selection of unique components. He never said anything about the decline in my muscles strength, but in the last year, when the trembling in my legs had gotten unstoppable, a second stool had appeared behind the empty table and Klayson had gotten a lot more direct about telling me to sit.
It would take longer than a single visit to reassure him that my legs really were functional now.
As I slid behind the empty table, I grinned. It was good to be back, to be home.
I stretched.
“Still hunting, Missy. Don’t lose me any business now, you hear?”
People flowed past, all wrapped up in their own worlds. Maybe I could stay here, watch the booth for Klayson when he went out on scavenging jobs. I’d ask him when he came back and then...
“Would you like to see a cat?” The soft voice came from nowhere.
I leaned over the table to see a pale child, wrapped in a faded coat that might have been a brilliant emerald color, long ago. Even rolled, the sleeves flopped over her hands, and the hem brushed the ground.
“It doesn’t look like you have one with you,” I answered. “Is he inside your coat?”
Her face scrunched up into a scowl. “Of course not.” She held out a grubby fist, then opened it to reveal a small silver figurine of a reclining cat, surrounded by intricate metal knotwork.
“That’s a lovely pendant. Where did you get it?” My words came automatically, but my mind stuttered and my stomach clenched. Not from hunger this time, but guilt and worry.
The child shot daggers at me from narrowed eyes. “I didn’t steal it.”
I held my hands up. “I didn’t say you did. But I think I’ve seen a cat like that once. A friend made it. I thought maybe you knew my friend.”
The girl nodded slowly. “I’ve seen your holo. But I thought you walked funny. Are you sure you’re the right person?”
“I think I’m the right person,” I answered. “Tell you what, you go somewhere else for a while. Somewhere I can’t follow.”
A thin eyebrow raised, reminding me without words how hard it would be for me to trace this little shadow of the station.
“I’ll go where I think I need to go. If I’m the right person, I’ll end up where you want me to go. If I’m not, I won’t understand the message at all, right?”
The dark eyes squinted and she gnawed on her lip, trying to follow the logic as twisted as the knotwork.
“Yeah, that should be okay. I’ve been looking for you for a while anyway. If you’re not you, I’ll try again tomorrow.”
The girl slipped away into the throng of the bazaar, taking the cat token with her, leaving all of my daydreams in her wake.
Klayson re-emerged from the tent. “Here’s the best I have. Should go a long ways towards getting you set back up.”
I glanced over the components and nodded, figuring which I could afford now, and what might have to wait. “These, for now. Can I come back and pick them up later?”
He looked surprised, but nodded. With both my credits and my parts, he knew I’d be back. Besides, as a friend of Granny’s, he knew where to find me.
I headed out of the bazaar, towards the hidden passageway that would take me to the maker of the cat trinket.
There was supposedly a staircase in the bazaar itself, a jammed rusted panel concealing the entry. But I’d never been able to open it myself. That was fine, no one seemed to use this little passage.
Outside of the bazaar the residential hives started.
A few blocks in, down an alley, always turning hubward. And there it was, a regular door, leading to a regular looking stairwell that had probably been set up for maintenance once upon a time. I’d never seen anyone use it other than me. And the woman I was about to go meet.
I started down the stairs counting levels as I went, knowing that I didn’t need to, that it was just a distraction from the flood of memories.
My parents had tried. They really had.
I told myself that during the nights at the children’s facility where they had left me after the sickness had gotten too much for them. It was too expensive, and they had other kids to think of.
Surely they thought someone at the facility would be able to help me. But it didn’t really work out that way.
What I learned there was to work on my other skills. I found how to slip into the facility records to find out information on my friends’ families, even try to track what had happened to mine.
Year-by-year my legs got weaker but my hacking skills grew stronger.
When another group of kids decided to break out, make their own way in the universe, it was more useful for them to take me with them than leave me behind.
They’d been
my friends, and we’d all scattered, gone our separate ways except for Cintha and her younger brother Daix.
The three of us stuck together, bouncing from station to station until we ended up on Orem. It was loose enough anyone could fit in. Nobody cared where you came from as long as you could get something done, had something to offer.
I found clients for my comms skills, and Cintha’s creations could have graced the most elegant homes in the Uppers. But she’d refused to leave her brother behind, following him as he descended, trying to make a life for them in the wreckage his addictions left behind.
I pushed the final door open, a strange melody seeping through the edges reminding me that whatever time it might have been on the rest of the station, it was always night in the Under.
Instead of a run-down residential section, the buildings on either side of me hummed with activity.
If you didn’t know better, the lantern district looked like it was on fire. Colored lights and gauzy fabrics cast surreal shadows everywhere you looked, ruby and gold flickers played across the buildings’ surfaces.
I walked down the passageway slowly. Just because I’d been here before, didn’t mean I belonged. Chances were good that no one would give me trouble. But it didn’t pay to be stupid.
The performance hall to the left was clean and always held a packed house, despite an ongoing change of names and owners.
Rumor had it that the best performers started their careers in the Under.
Cintha had laughed when I asked her about it, said it was a story that slumming customers from the Upper levels told themselves to justify the imagined risk. Some people got high just on the illusion of danger.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for everyone.
I crossed the street, slipped between the crowds and headed toward her shop. A group of children ran behind me in the street, faces painted with starkly colored lines, each telling a code, a story that I wasn’t privy to.
The screen blocking the door was gathered to the side, showing the half curtain hanging down, covering the entry.
I took a deep breath before going in, letting my eyes roam the pattern embroidered into the fabric, Cintha’s characteristic loops and swirls.