by M. D. Cooper
Ricket nodded and Rogers gave her a small salute. “Sounds fun, just no one ask Ricket to sing…please.”
Ricket rolled her eyes but didn’t reply.
“That gives us an AI with both teams, and Winter can stay back on the ‘Queen.”
“Seriously?” Winter asked, his brow lowering. “Why me?”
“Because after the inspection team checked that our weapons were locked down, Chief Raynes messaged me saying he wanted a full inventory of all our small arms. It’s just busy work he’s using to mess with us, but I want to stay as much on his good side as I can.”
Winter groaned. “That could take days. Again, I ask, why me?”
“Because half of them are yours,” Rogers said with a laugh. “Plus, everyone has seen you dance; no one wants to risk you picking up the karaoke mic.”
Kylie rose from her seat and looked at Bubbs in her black armor. “Oh, Bubbs, your gun arm is going to have to stay on the ship.”
“I figured,” Bubbs said simply with a little sniff as her back straightened. “No arm, no cookies.”
Kylie tried to think of the right thing to ask. “Do you…uh…have a regular arm rather than just going without? Maybe one that looks real so you’re not so….” Kylie searched for the right word.
“Nubby,” Rogers suggested.
“Nubtastic,” Winter said with a small chortle.
Bubbs tossed her head and glared at Winter until the chuckles subsided. “I don’t have a ‘normal’ arm, but I do have an attachment that serves that purpose.”
“Will it…scare anyone?” Kylie asked, fighting a cringe.
Bubbs’ nose flared at the question. “No.”
“OK, great,” Kylie said. “Why don’t you get ready and—” she fell into silence as Bubbs strode off the bridge, the mood lightening as the large woman left.
Kylie rolled her shoulders and glanced around. “Is it normal for the captain to be so afraid of one of her crew members?”
“At least it takes the heat off me, know what I mean?” Winter chuckled and slapped Kylie on the shoulder.
Boy, did Kylie ever.
“Pretty sure the running bet is still that you’ll get spaced before Bubbs does, Winter,” Rogers said, but paused when Winter gaped at him. “What? Three to one odds, my man. I don’t make these things up, I just keep track. Don’t worry, you’re still the captain’s favorite.”
“Favorite favorite, or favorite to get spaced?” Winter asked.
“And on that note…” Kylie straightened and threw back the rest of her coffee. “Rogers and Ricket, do your best to fit the part. Dress down, keep your eyes and ears open. Not too much drinking if you know what’s good for you.”
“I never drink on the job, captain,” Ricket said.
“Unless drinking is part of the job.” Rogers snapped his fingers. “This definitely counts as on the job.”
“Weapons stay here. We have to appear completely on the up and up. Otherwise Chief Raynes will have our heads.”
Rogers groaned. “All well and good for you, Cap. You’re your own weapon.”
“You can stay here and wait for us if you want to be a baby about it.” Kylie slapped a hand on Rogers’ cheek before walking off the bridge. There was at least one more cup of coffee in the pot and she planned to have it.
As she walked through the corridors, it occurred to her that she’d barely heard a word from Marge in the last few hours. Once in the galley, Kylie refilled her cup, reaching out to Marge, but barely able to feel her presence.
Kylie’s heart skipped a beat.
Marge sniffed, her mental tone filled with dismay, causing Kylie to wonder who those ‘others’ had been.
Kylie had to ask, even if she didn’t want to know.
Kylie frowned, uncertain of what Marge was referring to.
Kylie had never heard of an AI rebellion. A resistance? A thousand questions bubbled to the surface of her mind—but at that moment Bubbs sent a message.
Shit, Kylie squeezed her eyes tight. She tried to clear her mind, wishing she hadn’t chosen right before an op to ask Marge what was going on, but she’d had no idea it’d be something this big.
Marge’s avatar nodded solemnly.
Kylie polished off the coffee, set the cup in the sink and headed for the airlock with a sense of sadness and insecurity.
Kylie meant the words as she spoke them, but she also knew that there could be more Marge hadn’t told her yet that could change her feelings on the matter.
Kylie didn’t need any more surprises—though she’d trusted Marge to have her back for some time and hadn’t been let down. She hoped her trust wasn’t misplaced.
* * * * *
They boarded another lift—this one just off the docking bay—and headed for deck fifty-two. As the lift descended, Kylie reviewed Chimin City’s layout and saw that the housing block they were en route to was near the outer edge of the asteroid.
There the tangential velocity was greater, and the gravity was closer to 1g. Kylie saw that their destination was also close to the farming operation, which made sense. Many plants preferred heavier gravity and would produce more proteins than in zero-g. Except oats, they didn’t care where you grew them.
Oats were one of Chimin-1’s main crops, a staple of space farming everywhere. Easy to grow, versatile, and they often found their way into a good malt beer. Didn’t get much better than that.
Kylie herself was raised on oatmeal, cookies made of oats, ground oats for pizza crusts,
and more. Her mom had always been great at thinking outside the box. So long as outside the box also included oats.
It made her wonder how her mother was doing—along with David, her brother. He was supposed to keep the remains of their family safe, provide for them while Kylie went off and searched for Paul. Didn’t mean she didn’t worry, or that she wouldn’t love to know how they were.
The lift slowed and stopped on deck fifty-two.
They stepped out onto a broad thoroughfare with a high, rock overhead. The wide street formed one of the entertainment and commercial districts of Chimin City.
It had seen better days, sported a decidedly lived-in type of smell, and clearly hadn’t seen much more than minimal upkeep for several decades. Flickering holodisplays advertised the latest vids, decrepit gambling kiosks stood in dimly lit alcoves, and an eclectic collection of shops lined the sides of the concourse.
Kylie considered the somewhat drab fashions in the windows, she would have thought people who lived inside a rock would want a splash of color. They also passed stores that sold toys and VR for the child population. Something for everyone.
They passed one store that seemed to sell something other than the day-to-day clothes and Kylie slowed to take a look.
“Hey, Bubbs,” she elbowed her companion gently and nodded toward the blue and gray dress hanging in a window. “It’d really bring out your eye, don’t you think? Flattering fit?”
Bubbs gawked at the dress, her mouth falling open. “A…dress?” She glanced down at her sleek black armor. “I think this is flattering.”
“Doesn’t hurt to branch out a bit.”
Bubbs ignored the statement. “A right turn ahead and then half a klick to the housing block. Looks like a central courtyard and then lifts taking you up to apartments set into the asteroid’s skin.”
Bubbs led the way around the corner, clearly making an effort to distance herself from the dress. A strange thought occurred to Kylie and she wondered if Bubbs had skin. She’d never seen the woman out of her armor. Not even on vid night in the ship’s lounge.
She shrugged it off and followed Bubbs to the entrance to the housing block. It was a high-volume airlock, a large rotating platform with chambers that could accommodate dozens of people continually spinning around.
They stepped onto it, and Kylie noted that the airlock lowered the air pressure, not significantly, but a bit. Oxygen was lower too, almost like the block didn’t warrant full environmental support.
The airlock rotated to the far opening, and they walked out into a short passage, following it to a broad courtyard. A few play structures dotted the wide space which alternated between dirt and struggling grass. Twenty meters overhead was an irregular rocky ceiling from which lights—most of which were burnt out—hung.
The only person present was a man sitting on a bench at the far side of the largest play structure. Kylie noticed that he was missing both legs from the knees down and was—hopefully—sleeping.
Around the perimeter of the space were lift doors sporting painted-on signs noting the housing complex they connected to.
“Well this is cheery,” Bubbs muttered as they walked into the space, looking for the correct lift.
A small bot rolled out from behind a bush and a flickering holo of a woman appeared in the air above it.
The woman disappeared and the words ‘Out of Service’ appeared above the bot before it turned and retreated back behind the bush, the words now hovering in the air above the scraggly branches.
“Place makes Montral seem upscale,” Bubbs said with a sound that was somewhere between a grunt, a cough, and a laugh. She topped it off with a shrug before walking across the grass to a lift on the right. “This one.”
Kylie followed after and sent a message back to Winter, feeling a little guilty for leaving him on the ship.
Kylie could sympathize with his pain.
They boarded the lift for Block H and Bubbs pushed the indicator for Level 33. Given that they were working their way further and further out into the asteroid’s skin, the lift descended, rather than ascended.
The levels counted by slowly, and Kylie had a momentary fear of the rickety old conveyance simply falling straight out of the asteroid and into space. What a way that would be to go.
After a minute, the lift indicated they were at Level 33, and Kylie decided it was probably right. They walked out into a narrow hallway that led past what seemed like an endless row of grey apartment doors.
“Well, Bubbs?” Kylie asked, curious what the large woman would suggest.
If the person responsible for wanting her dead was still here, they could bust out at any moment. She’d kill to have a weapon other than just nano. Though her tech was nothing to sneeze at, it gave her an edge even Bubbs didn’t have.
Bubbs’ eye flicked back and forth as she matched the apartments with the triangulation data. “22B is where the signal was sent, but I’m getting some strange readings. Can’t pinpoint where the interference is coming from.”
“How so?” Kylie asked.
So the place was falling in disarray even more than the barely maintained facade of the operation let on.
“First things, first, let’s get into apartment 22B.”
Bubbs took the lead. At the apartment door she gave a sharp series of knocks that Kylie feared would knock the door off its hinges. “Security, open up!” Bubbs turned her head in Kylie’s direction. “Is it OK to say I’m security? This whole ‘legitimate’ thing is new to me.”
Kylie shrugged. “Sure, why not. If it gets them to open the door.”
When no one answered, Bubbs tried again. “Fire! Everyone out or you’re going to burn alive!”
Kylie would have critiqued Bubbs’ methods if they had actually worked, but ‘zero effectiveness’ was apparent in and of itself. Instead, Kylie leaned forward and placed her hand on the console by the door. It lit up red and chirped, “Locked.”
“You don’t say? Now what?” Bubbs asked.
“Now this,” Kylie replied as she sent a small filament of nano into the panel and let it run its automated routines. A moment later, the lock changed to green and the door swung open.
Bubbs snarled in appreciation. “Nice. Here I thought I was the criminal on board. I know of several crime rings that’d love to have you.”
Kylie suppressed a smirk. “I think I’ve had my fill of crime syndicates and mobsters, but thanks for the boost to my confidence.” It wasn’t that long ago, but eking out a living as a junker on the fringe of Silstrand Space, working for the Maverick’s crime syndicate…it already felt like that had never b
een her life. At least not one to be proud of, that was for damn sure.
Kylie stepped over the threshold and the dim lights flickered overhead as they reached what equated to full strength. Standing in a hallway beside a mirrored closet, she was immediately hit with an unpleasant smell, one of decay—plus the rancid odor of spoiled milk. She triggered her nano to filter the smell—one of many new benefits she’d discovered—and turned to Bubbs whose face wrinkled in disgust.
Someone died here, and it was long enough ago to be getting to the smelly stage.
Bubbs nodded.
Kylie chuckled and gestured to her left.
Bubbs turned left down the short hall while Kylie continued into the cramped living space. The rear facing wall consisted of a bright holo window flickering with a mesmerizing swirl of blue and yellow. It was framed by a pair of long-dead plants, their leaves yellow, most fallen to the floor.
There were no windows, and Kylie felt a little claustrophobic at the thought of what was essentially a small cave being someone’s home.
As Kylie looked around, she noticed the little details. Like a vase on a shelf was knocked over. One of the lime green sofas’ cushions was out of place. The dirty white throw pillows were scattered around the room, a pink blanket lay draped across a chair, and discarded toys dotted the floor.
Without thinking, Kylie touched her hip, feeling for her sidearm. She felt nothing but the smooth flow armor and shook her head.
Relax, Kylie, this’ll be fine. You don’t need guns.
She continued on, sidestepping around the sofa and into the kitchen nook area; small with just a counter and a hot plate, Kylie spotted a pool of blonde hair protruding from around the corner.
Shit.
Kylie sighed as she stepped around the counter and saw a thin woman, clearly dead with a bowl of cereal spilled on the floor next to her.