by M. D. Cooper
It was a pretty good metaphor for life on Akon in general. There was no beating the bigshots. They’d get what they needed while everyone else just tried to stay out of their way.
Reece dropped her clothes into the hamper, then pulled her long hair into a ponytail to sleep in. If she didn’t, she’d wake up with a rat’s nest of snarls on her head.
As she got into bed, she sighed and stretched out, her toes peeping out from the bottom of her sheet. She pulled them back under and pushed the sheet down to the edge of the bed with her feet. She hated sleeping with her feet uncovered.
At least she made enough money that she could cool the house. It was one area where she didn’t try to scrimp. Growing up, she’d spent too many baking-hot days and nights dreaming of being able to sleep in the perfect temperature, with blackout curtains over the windows to simulate actual, total darkness.
On a planet that never got darker than a cloudy day, sleeping in darkness was a luxury.
She didn’t indulge in much, but having her home at the ideal temperature, as well as a sweet sleeping arrangement, were non-negotiable.
As always, the last thing she did before sleeping was to activate her ocular implants with a quick eye movement to check for messages.
Nope. Nothing.
Funny how ingrained the overlays were in her daily routine. Unlike most kids, she hadn’t gotten hers in early childhood. Poor kids couldn’t afford the tech, much less the upkeep. But when she’d signed on to Rexcare, they’d paid for her to have them implanted over her eyes, along with an auditory interface in her ear.
She was indebted to the company in more than one way, and she knew that any hour, any minute, they’d be calling with her next assignment.
She could feel it in her bones.
THE JOB
DATE: 03.18.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Ohiyo, Akonwara
REGION: Machete System, PED 4B, Orion Freedom Alliance
Reece woke to something cold pressed against her eyelid and groaned.
“Go away, Rio.”
She rolled away, but the ponytail that trailed across her pillow in her wake attracted several quick slaps from the feline’s paws.
She couldn’t help it. She laughed, and with that, any hope she had of getting back to sleep had been destroyed. Just like most mornings.
“Rio! You devil!” Reece rolled back and rubbed his head.
The shameless wirecat closed his eyes and pushed his head against her hand, rumbling out a happy purr.
“You’re supposed to let me sleep,” she scolded, rubbing his velvety fur. Wirecats had evolved to survive on Akon, and had a very short, dense coat of fur. The darkest one she’d ever seen had been a hazy gray, while Rio was a dark cream color.
He draped himself over her, lying half on her chest and half on the bed.
“That can’t be comfortable.” She knew that if she tried to move him, he was likely to bite her hand to voice his displeasure. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make his point.
“Are you hungry?” she asked him.
Rio’s ears perked up and he bolted for the door.
“Sure,” she groused, smoothing her hair and clothes as she stood, “that you understand. But when I tell you not to drink out of my cup, suddenly, words mean nothing to you.”
She padded downstairs in her bare feet and refilled Rio’s food bowl. As he crunched away, she considered her own breakfast choices.
“Up so early?” Aunt Ruth entered the kitchen, fully dressed, with her hair perfectly coiffed.
How Aunt Ruth stayed up late and got up so early, Reece had never figured out. It was like a superpower.
“Rio decided I’d slept long enough.” Reece poured herself a glass of water and went to the cabinet where they kept the nutritional supplements.
Another perk of working for Rexcare was full access to all their products, at cost. Healthwise, Reece and Aunt Ruth lived like the privileged few.
“Naughty cat.” Aunt Ruth made a clucking sound. “You’ve spoiled him.”
“Me!” Reece exclaimed in mock outrage when she’d swallowed her last supplement. “You’re the one who feeds him with a spoon.”
“Only sometimes.” Aunt Ruth’s voice had become defensive and high-pitched. “My yogurt containers are too tall and skinny for him to get into.”
Reece shook her head in amused exasperation, surveying the contents of the pantry. They had plenty in stock, but nothing appealed to her. She closed the door.
“Want me to make you some eggs, or porridge?” Aunt Ruth offered.
“I think I’ll wait a bit.” As Reece spoke, her ocular overlays showed her a small light at the bottom left of her vision. “Hang on. I’m getting a message.”
She hustled to her storage room and stood facing a closed cabinet. Not that the person on the other side could see her, or her surroundings. Normally. But she knew as well as anyone, that tech can always be subverted. With an abundance of caution, she always tried to have live conversations while looking at something nondescript and unrevealing.
The call was from her handler at Rexcare.
Staring at the gray cabinet door, she initiated her side of the Link. “Reece here.”
A voice came through her auditory interface, so clearly that the speaker might have been standing in front of her.
With an eye movement so ingrained in her that she didn’t even think about it, she checked the time. “This time of day, the metro won’t be crowded, so about forty minutes.”
Reece wasn’t able to mind-speak across the Link, few had that level of technology on Akonwara. For her to respond, she had to speak aloud—though her implants would pick up a whisper.
A tiny click in her auditory implants indicated that he’d cut the connection.
In her room, she shucked off the cotton tank and shorts she slept in and dressed for work. That meant snug, stretchy black pants with faux pockets that looked nice enough to be inside a corporate building, but provided ease of movement. She never knew when she’d need to run, kick, or jump onto a moving vehicle.
That last one had only happened once, but she had to be prepared. Her job came with a high degree of variability.
Reece pulled a black short-sleeved top over her head and smoothed it into place. An executive would never be able to get away with such a casual style, but her job fell between the cracks of the corporate world. She didn’t need to wear business attire unless a specific situation called for it. The rest of the time, she could wear her own particular style, as long as it wasn’t inappropriate to wear into a Rexcare building.
The holsters she belted around her waist and thighs wouldn’t be appropriate for anyone but corporate muscle, like her, or one of Rexcare’s security goons. In fact, very few people had a license to open-carry guns on Akon. Even fewer had concealed-carry permits.
The corporations didn’t care for a populace that was well-equipped with firearms.
People still managed to get them, though—if they had the money to make it happen. In neighborhoods like Slagside, where Reece had grown up, guns were absent, but everyone carried knives.
Though, with a population of only three billion, Akon didn’t suffer from a great deal of violent crime. Cities had been carefully laid out across the planet’s surface, rationally organized around the ideal farming zones. As a result, the population centers and people were spread out evenly, easing tensions and making for a relatively safe existence, provided a person didn’t intentionally stray into trouble.
Reece slid her favorite handguns—a matched set of 47 Rikulf Specials, and her prized possessions—into her thigh holsters. They’d cost her dearly, but they were quick, light, and remarkably low maintenance for projectile weapons.
She stuck her pulse pistol into the holster at her waist. She liked it far less but used it far more. Rexcare didn’t favor the hassle of paperwork that
came with dead bodies. Plus, they often needed the information people had, which was hard to get out of them when they were full of holes.
After running a hand over her waist sheaths, she was satisfied that her knives and other tools were in place.
Finally, Reece pulled her hair out of her ponytail and brushed it out, leaving it loose. Then she put on her boots and tucked her jacket under her arm.
“Going to work?” Aunt Ruth asked when she returned to the kitchen.
“Yep. I’ll try to let you know what’s going on but don’t worry if I’m out late.”
“No sense in saying that.” Aunt Ruth shook her head. “I always worry when you’re not where I can see you. That’s just how it is.”
It was nice to have someone to worry about her. “Well, I’ll do my best not to get ground into hamburger then.”
Aunt Ruth let out a squawk of mock-indignation. “What a terrible thing to say. You’d better get out of here before I swat your bottom with one of my cooking spoons like I did when you were little.”
“You did not.”
“Well, I thought about it. Shoo!” Aunt Ruth waved her away.
Smiling, Reece stepped out into the blazing sun. She was way overdressed for this weather, but bare legs and arms weren’t acceptable at Rexcare.
Stupid corporate types.
At least there was a Metro entry a block away. Her suffering would be short-lived.
Her long legs ate up the distance, and soon she was walking down the stairs and into the climate-controlled coolness of the Metro station.
She let out a sigh as the blast of chilled air gave her damp skin instant relief. Sometimes, it was almost worth it to be so hot just so she could feel the pleasure of cooling off.
At the first landing, she stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling turnstile and waited for the system to pick up her auth codes over the Link and match them to her retina. The turnstile released and let her through, locking immediately behind her for the next person.
Another perk of her job was her executive-level Metro pass. Rexcare paid for all of her maglev travel. Pretty sweet.
Since she’d cooled off, Reece shrugged into her long, leathery red-and-black jacket as she walked to the platform. Instantly, her work persona clicked into place.
She was corporate fixer Reece, ready to kick some ass and take some names. And then give those names to the people who wanted them and not ask any questions because it was none of her damn business.
As she waited for the maglev train to arrive, Reece noticed an older guy looking at her. Not just a regular look, or one offering a pleasant hello smile. He stared at her, aggressive in his steady eye contact, wearing a smarmy smirk.
She’d come across too many of his type before. Most people gave her a wide berth when she was on the job, thanks to her take-no-shit expression and body language. Every now and then, someone with a poor sense of self-preservation found her a little too interesting. Casually, she turned her head away from him, looking down the maglev track, and pushed back the right side of her jacket. She gently trailed a thumb over one of her 47 Specials.
When she shifted her weight, and glanced back toward the guy, he’d turned his attention in the opposite direction.
As well he should.
* * * * *
Walking into Rexcare headquarters was always an experience.
A moment before, she had been outside in the sweltering heat, the sounds of the city all around. The building had loomed overhead, its pristine edifice a love letter to beautifully imposing architecture.
The instant she stepped into the lobby, the noise of the city was gone, replaced by a serene quiet, punctuated by the sound of bubbling water from a fountain in the center of the lobby.
Reece’s boots made a soft thud on the glossy tile with every step. She lifted her chin in greeting at Ernesto, one of the security goons she actually liked. As guards went, he was one of the nicer ones. He returned her nod as she passed.
Then she arrived at the gatekeepers. Technically, Rexcare called them receptionists, but these people were as polished as executives, and probably even more clever. Without their approval, no one got any further into the building.
“Morning, Reece.” One of them smiled at her.
“Morning, Tavin. How’s the atmosphere today?” She’d met him back when she’d begun her employment at Rexcare, and they had a friendly camaraderie. He'd let her know if one of the execs was on a rampage, or if the press had printed something unpleasant about the company.
“Fine. No impending mergers, no quarterly reviews. Nothing hot as far as I know, other than the weather.” He grinned. Akon’s unique weather patterns were a favorite joke topic for Akonwarans.
“Gotcha. Thanks.”
“Elevator three is coded for your floor. Mr. Matthews is expecting you.”
Rexcare did not just let anyone in from the street. Though they were nice to her, she’d heard stories about how fierce the gatekeepers could be.
She always had to chuckle at the use of a title like “Mr.” It was an executive affectation. People in the Machete system, or anywhere in the Orion Freedom Alliance for that matter, didn’t use last names. It was an old-world thing. But the executives liked to dig into their ancestry and pluck out a name to give themselves.
Probably just so they could have the title of ‘Mr’.
Reece had sidestepped that early on, and simply called him by his first name during their very first meeting.
When she got to the tenth floor, she straightened her jacket and strode out into the foyer, wearing confidence like a crown.
Executives hated indecision or uncertainty. Her handler, Schramm Matthews, was better than most of them. He’d always dealt with her honestly and bluntly, which was how she liked it. He didn’t try to hide details, either; and always gave her the full picture.
There was no receptionist on this level, but Reece knew the way like the back of her hand, turning left, then right. Three doors down, she was standing at the entrance to Schramm’s office
“Reece,” he said when she had crossed the room and stood in front of his desk. He sounded genuinely glad to see her. “Thanks for coming so promptly.”
“It’s what you pay me for.” She sat opposite the stylish fifty-something-year-old man, his big fancy desk between them.
“One of the things, anyway.” He cleared his throat and straightened his suit jacket.
Uh oh. He did that sort of thing when he had to deliver news she wouldn’t like.
Well, crap.
She kept a straight face, waiting for the hammer to fall.
“I need you to hunt someone down,” he announced.
Okay. She had no problem with that.
“He may have left the system,” Schramm added.
Oh. That was kind of a bummer.
“I don’t know anyone outside of the Machete System,” Reece replied. “Most of my connections are right here on Akon. I’m not sure how effective I can be in unfamiliar territory.”
Her brand of corporate fixing involved understanding how things worked, who paid who, and where people’s vulnerabilities lay. She had friends, and friends of friends, who had eyes on things that other people wouldn’t know about.
But those connections ended at Machete’s edge. Without any of them, she’d be running headlong into a situation she was likely to make even worse.
“Right. That’s why I want you to work with a partner.”
She stiffened. Other than Kippy and Aunt Ruth, she trusted no one with her life. “That’s not how I work.”
“I know that, but hear me out.”
She crossed her arms, a frown knitting her eyebrows together. “I’m listening.”
Schramm pursed his lips for a moment, staring at her as though he doubted her response. “This is a serious situation. We’ve been paying a scientist to do some genetic research for us.”
That did not make things better for her. Quite the opposite, in fact. “Pretty much all genetic b
iotech is prohibited, mandated by our charter from the Orion Freedom Alliance. Are you trying to give the Orion Guard a reason to send in their fleets and put us under martial law? Because I really, really prefer for them to keep ignoring us as usual.”
Schramm sighed, and Reece could tell he was beginning to lose patience with her. He must be really stressed.
“I couldn’t agree more. The research isn’t for creating genetic biotech. At least, it wasn’t supposed to be. I suspect, though, that Dr. Fitzmiller found something very valuable, and took off with it so that he could profit from it.”
The pieces clicked together in her mind. “So not only do you have someone who has stolen the work Rexcare has paid him for, but there’s also the risk that whatever he’s discovered will get noticed by Orion and be tracked right back to Rexcare.”
He smiled slightly. “That’s it, exactly. And since you’re the person I most trust to handle something this volatile, I want you on this. But, of course, you need a guide. Someone who knows how to operate on other planets and in other systems.”
She recognized the logic and couldn’t fault it. On the illogical side, though, was how much she hated traveling. She could tolerate a short trip to a neighboring station or planet, but longer trips made her anxious. The further she got from Akon, the more she was reminded of how vast the universe was, and how many dangers it held.
It was a wee bit of a phobia.
However, she was more than phobic about the possibility of the Orion Guard showing up. They had very strict laws about what was, and was not, allowed when it came to human enhancement—especially in the Perseus Expansion Districts. Stories told of decimated systems and worlds ground to dust by the Guard when they broke those strictures.
Long before humanity even left the Sol System, people had become more machine than human—something that Orion was not fond of. Reece tended to agree with that assessment.
In those days, it had become normal for people to have genetic and mechanical modifications that made them nearly immortal. They’d even had sentient artificial intelligences installed in their brains.
Having another mind in her mind sounded terrifying. She knew some people in Orion had them, though most of those were in the military.