by V. M. Law
“I see you are making friends with the best our crew has to offer,” he said, glaring at Mantiss, remembering the heat of embarrassment and the frustration of insubordination, the powerlessness of knowing that Mantiss was a mechanic, not a custodian, and was therefore beyond the reach of Cunningham’s draconian punishments. “With such talented cohorts, I’m sure you will go far with MarsForm.”
Mantiss interjected. “Pleasure to see you, Marlo. You must be enjoying the brisket upstairs, no?”
“Llewellyn Mantiss, my business is with Custodial Technician Kasey Lee. You may think you are untouchable here, but everyone’s luck runs out. I’ve seen dozens of mechanics better than you. Ms. Lee, your presence is requested on the bridge.”
“The bridge?” The word had the effect of a magic utterance, seeming even to dim the floro lights above. Cunningham smiled at his minor victory, a crooked smile that concealed more about his designs than it revealed. Even Mantiss sat silently, with eyes that seemed to say, “You’ll be okay, I hope.”
“Yes, Ms. Lee, the bridge. I am to escort you there post-haste.”
“But I haven’t finished eating.”
“That will not be a problem.”
“Well, then,” Mantiss said. “This is where I check out. I’ll catch you later, Kase.” He left the table, disappearing into the milling crowd of mechanics, custodians, and statisticians, the hoard of commoners sated on the rubber resistance of powdered eggs that stuck to one’s gums, and plastered the crevices in the teeth.
“Ms. Lee.”
Kasey stood up, afraid to make eye contact and racking her brain for any reason why the bridge might want to speak to her.
Chapter 3
The labyrinthine halls of the Age of Discovery brought Kasey through passages concealed behind latches, ladders descending into wells of blackness only the most experienced technicians knew how to navigate, and catwalks extending over precipitous drops. Throughout all of it, was the limitless network of people delivering messages and reporting to their stations, a flurry of activity that reminded Kasey of her youth in the subterranean city of the Annex. She followed Cunningham, climbing ladders and stairwells with her shoulders twisted to fit between the walls until she emerged from the dim light of the maze into the highest reaches of the Age of Discovery. Cunningham’s security clearance opened the final door, and they entered the bridge.
Kasey eyed the computer banks that towered over those who operated them, her heart matching the steady rhythm and din of communication between man and machine that powered the ship. Black metal flooring reflected everything, and when Kasey lowered her eyes, not wanting to seem impressed by the massed technology she could not possibly comprehend, her own darkened reflection met her stare. This is the last time I will ever see the bridge of a deep space vessel, she thought, knowing that she had been caught snooping the night before, knowing that Ajax Hardmason and his conspirator Gustav would soon be interrogating her, mining her brain.
She became a party to their conspiracy through a simple accident of fate, as innocuous as an overtime shift, taken to impress her boss and put her in the running for a promotion. Her regret mounted as the eyes of the Bridge Command personnel met hers and darted quickly to one side or the other. After snaking through computer banks and ascending the terraced steps of the bridge, Kasey reached the High Command, the inner sanctum of the boss himself, who until the night before, stood in her mind as an inspiration in the field of deep space exploration; a bastion, a pioneer. She stared into the security camera that stared back at her from its perch above the door, wondering whose gaze met hers on the other side.
“That is quite a walk, isn’t it, Lee?”
“Yes, sir. Never been this high before.”
He laughed. “I know you haven’t, girl, and if Hardmason wants to see a janitor, you better not get used to the view.” He turned away and walked into the lair of the beast, where Kasey’s career would be torn down like an unused scaffold.
The door opened with a hydraulic sweeping of air and pumping of valves that remained hidden within its frame. Cold air rushed out to meet Kasey and Marlo, whose lungs labored after the strain of the walk, the climbing of stairs, and they stepped into the foyer. When the inner door opened, the smell of chicken and fresh herbs, relics of Kasey’s childhood, wafted to her nose and in the bath of floro light, a table stood with food spread out upon it, and no sign of any occupants in the room at all. The smell made Kasey salivate, vaguely inflaming a sense of injustice related to the dehydrated eggs and synthetic coffee and lima bean paste. Not that it mattered to her. Her career seemed to be coming to an end.
She stood, captivated by the smell and the colors of the cheese platter that sat beside the chicken, the salad bowl with its aroma of lemon, and the flagons of deep black wine that sat at even intervals throughout the length of the table. As in the bridge, Kasey tried to conceal her awe.
“You may leave us, Cunningham, and thank you. See to it that our guest is well accommodated.”
He turned to leave, and as he did, he muttered to Kasey that he didn’t expect to see her again any time soon, if ever.
When they were alone, and both of the airlock doors closed behind Marlo Cunningham, Ajax resumed speaking. “Please, do sit down. Your chicken is getting cold.”
“My chicken?” Kasey struggled for a response and felt stupid at her default parroting.
“Yes, your chicken. You don’t want to eat it cold, do you?” He leaned forward and smiled, at once looking amicable and giving off the impression of a man who enjoyed playing cruel pranks on those who suspected his trickery the least. He did not appear trustworthy to Kasey, though she stepped forward and took her seat across from him. She made no move for her silverware, and did not look down at the plate before her, but instead stared directly into his eyes, meeting his gaze.
She mustered her courage. “I understand you wished to see me, sir, but I confess I can’t understand why.”
“Why. Such a question. Our ancestors asked ‘why?’ a lot, all the time, actually. They asked why so many times their tongues fell out and the whole planet went to shit while they looked for the answers instead of just moving on, out here, where mankind belongs.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Kasey said, painfully aware of a bead of sweat that rolled lazily down her temple, slowing its pace as it crested her cheek and plummeted to her jaw line. She hoped Ajax did not see it, or did not think anything of it if he did.
“Of course you do. You are like me, and my partner Gustav over there.”
“Hello, Ms. Lee. I am Gustav. I don’t believe we have met.”
The face before her bore no resemblance to the snarling mask of a desperate wolf that Kasey imagined when she sat hidden in the wolf’s own den the night before. The tone of his voice, friendly, put her at ease, though his posture’s rigidity put Kasey further on edge, as if he wished always to compare his height with those around him, seeming taller.
Maybe the food is a last meal. Maybe they do this every time they fire someone, she thought, alarmed at the bizarre thought popping into her mind.
“No, sir, we haven’t,” she said.
“Please, call me Gustav. And do eat your chicken. We butchered it just for you.”
“For me? You have chickens?” Everything seemed to be happening too fast, and the disorienting progression of events that led from her eavesdropping the night before, to the bridge of the Age of Discovery, made Kasey want to swoon, to throw her arms up and surrender, pouring everything she knew into their ears until they would have no choice but to execute her or launch her in one of the vessel’s thousand escape pods.
Instead, she said calmly, deliberately, “Thank you. I’ve forgotten my manners.”
“That is to be expected, with everything you’ve been through,” Gustav told her, giving no indication that his statement consisted of any malice.
“The truth is, Lee,” Ajax interrupted, “we have noticed you. You are a productive member of our crew
, and we feel beholden to you. Gravy?” He offered an aluminum bowl with steaming brown froth spilling over its sides. “Your test scores are really quite high, and your overtime has been a big help for MarsForm.”
His speech smacked of falsity, and through the calm demeanor with which he offered gravy, Kasey heard the quivering of the voice he adopted for his communications with The Commoner, whomever he may be. She accepted the gravy, unable to turn down the delicacy, and asked about her scores on MarsForm’s piloting school entrance examination.
“They were good,” Ajax said with a shirking shoulder that slanted up to his jaw. “Not good enough, but nobody passes their first time.”
She sat silently, not knowing whether she should be grateful for the commendation, or offended by the boldness of his dismissal. She looked directly into Ajax’s eyes and asked, “Did I do anything that I shouldn’t have? I have the feeling that I am about to be reprimanded.”
The statement hung in the air as the two bridge commanders stared at each other. They both laughed. Gustav controlled himself first, while Ajax still guffawed. “On the contrary,” Gustav said, “we are putting you in for a promotion. You are to be Ajax’s personal adjutant for the remainder of the Europa mission.”
“Me? But why—”
“There is that ‘why’ again, Ms. Lee,” Ajax said. “You really must learn to live your life by the opportunities presented. Did our forebears ask ‘why’ when it stopped raining on Earth? No, they instantly formed the Terran Council and monopolized whatever was left.”
Kasey did not seem to get where Ajax was going.
“You are a janitor—or you were a janitor, when you woke this morning—and now you are the personal adjutant to the Captain of your vessel, and you are preoccupied by the eternal ‘why’.”
Kasey sat numb in the stare of the two men, not knowing how to react and thinking only that they had sinister designs for her, were trying to keep her close, and already planned to architect an accident in one of the many dangerous places of the ship. Places where one wrong step could send the unwary crewmember crashing down into the deepest holes in the space craft. Their postures, the food spread set out to tempt, everything that they said, it all screamed to Kasey in her mind that she was in danger and that she would have to play it safe if she wanted to return to Earth.
“I’m sorry, sir. Thank you for your consideration.” She chose each word with care, not wanting to reveal her suspicion.
Gustav stepped forward from his perch behind Ajax and said, “Tomorrow you will be trained in your duties by Ajax and myself for the mission at hand, namely, the transfer of Helium-3 from the Jovian Outpost to Mars, safely and promptly, to fuel the war against the Ascendency. You will be trained in diplomacy, accounting, and languages. You will become an invaluable member of this crew if you can make it through your training. With the war in the outer fronts, our job grows more dangerous everyday, and we like to hand pick the people who will be working with us directly.”
He smiled, warming up, and Kasey imagined the look in his eyes at that moment to be the same look he silenced Hardmason with the night before. “But that is all for tomorrow. Tonight, you will have off. You will get rest, and you will be sent for in the morning to begin your schooling. For now, let’s enjoy the chicken. We don’t have too many left.”
Throughout the meal, Kasey asked questions of her new bosses and listened intently to their answers, learning all about MarsForm’s elite transportation wing, but thinking the whole time about Vitrol and the Catacombs. Thinking that she might get the chance to find out what the two men were up to, and what Farrow was doing on board. She thought about Mantiss and his reaction when he would learn of her promotion. They finished eating, and Kasey was sent back through the maze of branching hallways that composed the Age of Discovery.
Chapter 4
He had to shout to be heard over the riotous sounds of the commoners’ bar in the hull of the Age. “Really, Kase, I’m proud of you. Drink up.” He offered his glass in cheers to the new adjutant.
“Thanks, Lew. I didn’t think I’d have a job tonight.” Kasey sipped froth from her beer, glancing around at the other crewmembers drinking away their off time, trying to enjoy the relative safety of the Martian system, have one more toast before the Jovian Front and the Ascendency War became a reality of daily life. She dropped her voice, motioning Llewellyn Mantiss to lean forward and indulge her in secret telling. She had thought about telling him since she heard the conversation in the cargo hold, and decided not to, but in the excitement of her promotion, allowed herself one final indiscretion. After all, the arrival of morning would herald an age of secrecy for her. She wanted one more night in a proper commoners’ bar, drinking and sharing secrets with her friend.
“Remember what I said about Vitrol, the anti-aging drug?”
“Go on,” he leaned forward.
“It was Ajax Hardmason and his partner, Gustav Something.”
“Ajax? The captain?” Now Llewellyn threw his own glance about the room, again surveying for interlopers, people who would know what was said in the lowest reaches of the ship. “You think he’s smuggling Vitrol?”
“I don’t know. He’s up to something.” She thought about telling him the rest. Telling him about the Commoner, and the Ascendency. “I think there is a compartment on the Age, a smuggler’s cave. I heard them mention catacombs, special cargo. The whole thing reminded me of Corbin’s stories.”
“There aren’t any secret compartments on a MarsForm freighter, Kase. And why now, with Farrow on board?”
“She is looking for sabotage. They can’t have another Morrow, and they can’t possibly suspect their own captain of sabotaging his vessel. He is probably going to have free reign to do whatever he wants while she’s here,” Kasey said.
“You don’t know what Farrow is looking for. That one is a snake, trust me.”
“Mantiss, you think everyone is a snake.”
“Most are.”
She let the conversation rest and resumed sipping froth from the head of her beer. Her eyes kept talking, however, and soon, Mantiss interjected, demanding satiation for his illimitable curiosity.
“Ajax and Gustav had an accomplice, someone not on the Age,” Kasey told him.
“How do you mean?”
“They were talking through a SatCom. The signal broke up a bunch, and I couldn’t hear his voice very well, but they were definitely talking to another man. An Ascendency man.”
Llewellyn pushed his chair out, turned his shot upside down, and beckoned Kasey to follow him. “We should get a booth.”
They crossed the floor of the bar, making no eye contact, but continuing to scan the crowd for any signs of recognition among the patrons. The bar music blared, and the two had to scream over it to be heard. Kasey felt confident that no one heard them, but precautions seemed exciting, like they were involved in a spy ring. Her heart thrummed as they sat in an isolated booth in the corner of the bar, away from prying eyes and overreaching ears.
“Who were they talking to?” Llewellyn asked, his curiosity blazing in his intent stare.
“They mentioned the Commoner.”
“Bridge Command would have your head if they heard you say that,” Mantiss told her.
It was true. Kasey knew that any affiliation with the Ascendency could result in blacklisting, jail time, even treason charges. Since the Morrow went down, the Ascendency had been considered a public threat.
“That’s why I’m worried about the promotion. You don’t think they’re trying to keep an eye on me?”
“They could be. If you are right, they couldn’t exactly go through Human Resources. I don’t want to scare you, though.” As much as she liked Llewellyn, particularly when he was drunk, she resented his paternal, patronizing worry. It reminded her of her mother, always harping about space travel and what having a dead daughter would be like.
“If Ajax and Gustav are working with the Ascendency—”
Mantiss silenced he
r with a glare and finished her sentence. “If Ajax and Gustav are working with the Ascendency, then this whole ship—and everyone on it—would become a military target.”
Kasey scoffed. Mantiss always went off on conspiracy theory rants about MarsForm and the Terran Council, what happened when the Signal reached the satellites over a century ago. People believed anything they heard, is what Corbin had to say about it, and he would know, Kasey told herself, because his father died up there and the official report came in the mail confirming that the old American Neptune base exploded when an airlock blew, killing everyone inside. And now we have Signal Day, would be his reasoning, to celebrate the confirmation of life in other parts of the universe, to never forget the day when the race of Man first encountered undeniable proof of life in the stars. To completely forget the fact that one airlock couldn’t cause an explosion in a base that big.
“Drug running is a big crime,” Kasey said, meeting Mantiss’ gaze. “We could get a bounty.”
Mantiss leaned forward and betrayed a violence that Kasey had never seen in him. He tried to restrain his voice, but the sharp curves of his shoulders hunched over like vulture wings, drawing the attention of a drunken man who stumbled by. “You just got a promotion and a raise. Be happy.” He paused, seeing in her the restlessness he knew in the Annex, imagining Corbin saw the same look when he snuck her to the surface to see the universe. “Kasey, we are touching down tomorrow. You should really try to get there in one piece.”
“But if we’re onto something,” she said, allowing his imagination to fill in the rest. “Think about it. With Farrow on board, we wouldn’t even have to do anything. One conversation is all it would take.”
“Please, Kasey, leave me out of this,” Mantiss joked as if he were leaving her in the solitary booth to conspire and plot the downfall of her captain. He made it as far as the bar, and came back with two drinks blazing electric blue in the dim light. “Besides, he just gave you a promotion. You’re going to get him locked up for that favor?”