by M. D. Cooper
Around a mouthful of food, Bubbs said, “You know…that Tanis Richards is an OK person for being some muckity-muck admiral.” She popped a berry into her mouth. “I don’t normally hold much with the brass.”
“But not your favorite person because that’s me, right?” Rogers asked.
Bubbs didn’t answer, wasn’t sure how to respond. She’d tried to be more playful with this crew than she had with others in the past, but she wasn’t sure if it always came off right. So instead, she forced a wide toothy smile. Rogers’ shocked expression gave the impression it looked creepier than Bubbs had intended.
“About earlier,” Rogers put his half-eaten sandwich down into the container balanced on his lap, “My adrenaline was spiking after that battle. Winter and I have been through a lot together, which means I’ve wanted to kill him more than I wanted to save him.”
Bubbs blinked her eyes quickly, feeling sick in the pit of her stomach. “So, you think I killed him now.”
“No! Of course not. I was just trying to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You’re part of our team, same as I am. Same as Ricket, Laura, Marge, and Winter. I’m just…sorry.”
No one had ever apologized to her before—at least not in a long time. Bubbs felt a strange hotness rushing into her cheeks. She didn’t know what to say or how to respond. “I really like this peanut butter sandwich.”
Rogers laughed. “It’s pretty good. A staple when I was growing up planetside.” He picked his sandwich up and bit into it. “How about you? Where’d you grow up? Did you always want a detachable gun arm?”
“I got the arm when I was in the Genevian Armed Forces. We were in a big war with the Nietzscheans, which we of course lost. Got wounded pretty bad in a battle near the end. They…patched me up. Made me like this.” Bubbs’ trademark sneer took on an edge of disdain. “Honestly…I was one of the lucky ones.”
“Sorry, that was a stupid joke.” Rogers shook his head. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have said it like that.”
He couldn’t have known. Bubbs hadn’t told anyone on the Barbaric Queen—old crew or new—what she had been through. Couldn’t hold it against Rogers when it was Bubbs herself who had difficulty communicating with others.
“I’m used to being alone. Grunting to myself in the corner. Petting my cat.” Bubbs sighed.
“That’s not a euphemism, is it?” Rogers asked, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Bubbs wasn’t sure what he meant and then it dawned on her. She belted out a hearty laugh. “No, but it sure could be. Hard to date when you’re asking them to hold your arm—plus…well, nevermind.
“You have a nice laugh—and smile—when you let yourself relax.”
Bubbs didn’t know how she felt about that. She wasn’t sure she liked compliments—or having a nice smile. “I prefer to scare people.”
“You still do that, trust me.” Rogers finished off his sandwich before rising from his seat. “I feel like I should do rounds or something…but of what? The whole city?”
“We’re stretched a little thin, but we’ll get the job done.” Bubbs stood as well, prepared to head back to the prison ward center, when the lobby’s front doors slid open. She spun and leveled her GNR at the intruders.
Frozen in the entrance, stood six miners, looks of fear and shock on their faces. They raised their arms in the air and one called out. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! We’re here to help.”
“Help?” Rogers asked as he lowered his gun. “Help with what?”
Bubbs kept her gun trained on the group of miners while squinting at them. “You better talk fast because it’s been a while since I’ve gotten to shoot anything with my extra good arm.”
One woman swallowed hard. “That’s your good arm?”
“Extra good,” Bubbs whispered.
“Look.” One of the miners stepped forward. “We knew something has been wrong on Chimin-1 for a long time—a lot of us did—but there was nothing we could do about it. People going missing, farms not producing, and the beer drying up. We just want to help rebuild our home. If that means helping here, or anywhere, that’s what we want to do. Any way we can.”
Rogers glanced at Bubbs, then said, “All right.”
Bubbs did a double take and couldn’t believe what she had heard. “Rogers—”
“Can you fire a weapon? Or at least not shoot yourself with it?” Rogers asked, stepping up closer to the miners.
“We’ve all given military service,” the spokesman replied.
“Good,” Rogers said with a curt nod. “We need to make sure things stay orderly, and that people don’t realize this entire rock is unprotected.”
Bubbs turned to Rogers, whispering hoarsely. “Don’t you think we should discuss things like that before you make decisions that speak for all of us?”
“Listen, I know you don’t agree, but we can’t get this installation secure without more hands on deck. We’re four. Four. We need backup and these miners will come in useful. If you don’t agree with me—”
“I do.”
“You do?” Rogers’ jaw went slack.
Bubbs nodded. “Not at first, but you made a strong argument. I just think it’s not your decision to make.”
“I’ve been with Kylie a long time. She trusts my judgement. I’ll explain it to her and she’ll understand.”
“Fine,” Bubbs jaw tensed, “Let’s ask her then.”
“By all means,” Rogers said. Then he paused and looked down at the deck before glancing at the walls and then overhead. His cheek twinged and he felt an itch on his feet. “Wait, listen…or feel….”
Bubbs scowled. “Don’t get weird on me, Rogers. Or well, don’t get weirder.”
His eyes widened. “Didn’t you feel that? A vibration like something tensed and then let loose. I think something bad just happened.”
Bubbs shook her head. “You are getting weird.”
A moment later the deck shook violently, and alarms began to sound in the precinct and out in the corridors beyond.
Something had happened, something bad. It could only spell trouble. The biggest question on Bubbs’ mind, though, was how had Rogers known it was going to happen?
BOTTOM
STELLAR DATE: 11.05.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Mine 317
REGION: Chimin-1, Hanoi System (independent)
Kylie moaned, debating whether or not she should open her eyes, seriously considering just leaving them closed and going to sleep…for a month.
Everything hurt. The pain extended from her scalp all the way down to her toes. Even twitching her fingers felt like agony. Kylie wasn’t sure exactly how she’d seen the day going, but this was not it. At least she was alive…probably.
She wondered if her blonde assailant had survived the fall as well. That got her to open her eyes—which she remembered wasn’t possible with the flow armor still over her head.
She turned her head and pain lanced up her neck, driving into her skull. Kylie gasped and drew in a deep breath.
Marge chuckled.
Sight returned, and Kylie saw that her armor had been in a diagnostic mode. She looked around and couldn’t make head nor tail of where they were.
Kylie sighed. Well, at least people were going to notice what had happened. Maybe there was even a search and rescue team somewhere on Chimin-1 that was still around.
Or, with any luck, Rogers and Ricket would recognize her handiwork and launch a search party.
Kylie looked over her body’s self-diagnostics and saw that most of her broken bones and fractures were minor, a finger on her left hand, some ribs, the serious one was her right arm’s ulna. It had smashed into something pretty hard and was broken in two places.
Her armor had solidified across her forearm, keeping it safe. A prompt on her HUD showed an option to use ‘active support’ to keep the bone secure while it healed.
Her AI chuckled before responding.
Kylie debated that option, but decided to decline, just the thought of it gave her the heebie jeebies.
Kylie took a shallow sniff, then remembered that her armor would filter out any contaminants.
Kylie checked her armor. It could function as a rebreather for several hours but carried no reserve air supply.
Kylie rolled over onto her knees and shuffled forward, ducking under steel beams and slabs of rock, moving in the general direction of the lift. A bar brushed lightly across her back and pain shot through her ribs. Kylie pulled up her armor’s kinetic sensitivity menu and set her torso to max. It locked solid, and she gasped for air before lowering it one level. It loosened up and she drew a ragged breath.
Kylie resumed her slow crawl, covering a few meters until her leg jerked to a stop. She looked back and saw that her boot was wedged between a rock and a piece of metal.
Great.
Kylie struggled to reach behind her and free herself. The move pinched her side, and a sharp pain in her lungs made her exhale quickly, but she managed to get her boot free.
Kylie resumed her slow crawl forward. A minute later she passed beneath a large slab of stone and saw a twisted pile of steel, half buried under rock.
Marge highlighted a fracture on the ground only five meters from Kylie’s feet.
Kylie felt a tendril of fear trace its way up her spine.
Kylie looked to her right and spotted a dark tunnel disappearing into the rock. An ancient maglev rail ran down the center.
A second later, Kylie’s HUD lit up with a multi-layered map. If they headed down the tunnel, she’d come to an old workers’ workshop and lunchroom. Just beyond that, the map showed a maintenance shaft that led up.
It didn’t say how far up, but any amount of up was a good thing in Kylie’s mind
The shaft was a short hike, but with the burning fire in her lungs and a broken arm, covering distance would be no walk in the park.
Kylie gave a short chuckle.
Up ahead, the rocks became more jagged and ferrous crystals jutted out in places. She could make out a beam stretched across a chasm with support struts anchoring it on either side. Several other beams lay nearby, like someone had planned to build a bridge at some point. The sound of air rushing through narrow gaps grew louder, and Kylie prayed that more than the single beam was holding this fracture in place.
She peered across the darkness to see that the assassin waited on the other side. The woman stood with her hands on her hips, clearly waiting for Kylie to attempt the crossing
Just as well, Kylie thought wearily, it’d be better to get things over with—one way or another.
Kylie grabbed a meter-long metal bar from a nearby pile of debris, and stepped out onto the beam, trying not to worry about ridiculous things like falling down, smashing through the rocks and flying out into space.
She took a deep breath as she continued her slow passage over the beam. A shockwave rumbled through the asteroid, and Kylie nearly lost her balance for a moment, feeling her pulse rise, pounding in her ears.
She took small steps—more like a shuffle—and fought the urge to look below into the chasm. Not that there was much to see; just a dozen meters’ drop into a pile of rocks.
Kylie raised her eyebrows.
Kylie groaned.
Marge said mournfully,
Kylie reached the end of the bridge and saw the blonde assassin backing away down the tunnel. She was drawing long, deep breaths, and Kylie realized that the woman was at a significant disadvantage.
> She must be moving toward more air.
When she had closed to within ten meters—neither woman having spoken a word—Kylie charged.
Pain erupted in her body, but she ignored it as she crashed into the woman and knocked her down. Without her helmet, the assassin’s head was a prime target, and Kylie delivered several blows before her armor hardened around her waist.
Kylie reared up, realizing the woman had shot her.
She’d been so angry, but as Kylie watched the assassin quiver in pain, moaning through a swollen jaw, Kylie felt her rage fade away. The attacker’s teeth chattered as her lips trembled, unable to stay still.
“What makes you so special?” the assassin whispered.
“Nothing,” Kylie admitted flatly. “Why give your life away just to kill me? You don’t know me. Our lives never would’ve intersected if you hadn’t attacked me at the lift.”
The assassin gasped in pain, resting her head back down along the rocks.
“He wants you dead,” the assassin whispered.
Kylie bent down beside the fallen woman. “Who? Who sent you and Liberty after me?”
The assassin’s brow furrowed, and she struggled to speak. “I’ll never betray him.”
“You’re dying for him.” Kylie felt a surge of anger. “Was it Paul? Did my brother send you here to kill me before I can find him?”
Even as she said the words, Kylie knew that couldn’t be the case. Paul eschewed technology. This woman was a monument to it
“He’s…” the assassin’s eyes widened, and she gurgled, coughing up blood as her chest heaved, desperate to draw breath.
Kylie rolled the woman onto her side and blood flowed from her mouth.