“Nothing.” For some reason, she didn’t want him to know she was walking in here without her reporter. Maybe because she felt cut off from the outside world or because she was about to face a man she believed had ulterior motives. Suddenly today felt bleak, despite the beautiful weather.
Amidst a backdrop of fern trees, Dale sat at a lavishly set table with brilliant white linens, silver trays, and turquoise china plates. He smiled as she approached. She wondered how long that smile would last once she turned him down.
“Good morning, dear. Would you like something?”
“No, thank you. I had breakfast already.” She had made crepes for David this morning—her thanks for the pasta he’d prepared for her last night. The thought of David brought back her nerve.
“Not even a celebratory mimosa?” He held up a thin-stemmed glass with a pale orange liquid. “It reminds me of your eyes a bit.”
Mari didn’t like the way he said that part about her eyes. She tried a quick smile anyway, to hide her anxiety. “Sorry. No. I really just came by to say thank you for the job offer.”
“You’re quite welcome.” He made a gesture of looking all around her. “No luggage?”
“I won’t be needing any—”
“Because you’re not going to accept the offer,” Dale said, putting his celebratory glass down.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I’m disappointed.”
She forced herself to keep his gaze as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, aware of how her toes scrunched in the high heels. “Now’s just not the best time….” She really didn’t have any excuses and hadn’t planned to give any. In fact, she had anticipated giving her regrets, then high-tailing it back to the Bard. The longer she stood in Dale’s presence, the more she considered running out the gate.
“I understand, dear.” His casual manner as he finished his breakfast put her at ease a bit. He was taking her rejection better than she could have hoped.
“That’s a relief. Please keep me in mind for any future projects,” she said, wondering if she should add, unless I have to be on a freighter for six weeks, but decided to keep quiet about that.
Dale finished his mimosa. Mari guessed he wasn’t going to say more because there was no way he would consider her to be even a grounds keeper after this.
“Tell me, was your decision influenced by your pilot?”
“David? Well, not really.”
“I think we know better than that. It’s a shame, but I can see he wouldn’t want you wandering too far away. Men are so selfish sometimes. Armadans terribly so. The older they get, the more possessive they become.” He tsked as though pitying her.
A touch of anger burned on Mari’s cheeks. She opened her mouth to defend her decision, but his next words stopped her.
“Maybe David won’t mind if you designed my hydroponics bay from your own ship. That way he can keep an eye on you,” Dale said.
The modified offer sparked a new hope inside her.
“Are you asking me to still be a part of the greenshift project? To work from the Bard?” She wanted to be clear about this last part because it was an offer she would have never expected.
“It would seem I have no choice if I want your expertise.”
Her mind raced. It was a perfect solution.
“Though I do request that you look over the facilities on the Thrall 7 before it leaves this morning. We can go there first, then I’ll have the driver drop you at your own berth.”
She hesitated at this request, but kept thinking about the look Dale had given her earlier when he thought David had so much control over her. That’s why she had left home to begin with—she wanted to control her own path.
“What do you say, Mari? Do we have an accord?”
“Let’s go see the Thrall,” she said.
“He drives a little fast, doesn’t he?” Mari said.
Dale gave her an amused look as he sat across from her in the back of his personal transport. He lounged with one knee crossed over the other and his arm sprawled along the back of the tan leather seat.
Mari had pressed into a corner and tried not to fidget, pretending Dale no longer made her nervous now that they had come to an agreement. She reminded herself how this would get her out of debt, allow her to pay David back, and make her resume as good as what Dale thought it was. Plus, his recommendations to other greenshift customers could mean a sustained career for as long as she wanted. She could become as rich as Soli and Kenon and wear expensive clothes and eat at nice places like the Rose of Sharon all the time.
And maybe move her family off of Deleine, if they would go. She hadn’t heard from any of them since landing at the Hub. Out of habit she touched her palm to check messages. Dammit!
“Dale, I’m sorry. You’ll have to send me the specs from the ship later.” Mari held up her naked wrist. “I didn’t wear my reporter this morning.” She hoped she didn’t come off as being absent-minded. Sean was always reminding her to keep it on.
“Of course. You can point out specifics during our tour of the vessel, and I’ll make sure you receive all the information you require,” Dale said.
As they passed the ferry station, en route to the other side of Shiraz Dock, a mocha-skinned woman in a short, pink sari caught Mari’s attention through the transport’s window. Soli looked up just in time to see Mari drive by. She thought of giving her shipmate a little wave, but they were already past. Seeing Soli heading back to the Bard cheered Mari. The Bard was home, and this job made it possible for her to stay there…with David.
She imagined her nights being just like last night and her mornings just like this morning. Then her daydreams turned to images of visiting David’s home on Yurai, having him show her the mountains and the lake. She became lost in her thoughts, content with fantasizing about a new, bright future.
“If you like the sight of a freighter that much, dear, then you should reconsider joining us during this voyage,” Dale said.
“Oh, no, I mean I was thinking about…it’s impressive.” It was really quite ugly, but most freighters were, especially compared to the graceful, silver curves of the Bard.
As they exited the transport, Carlos kept mimicking that sweeping stare that she had witnessed David perform at Dale’s estate, as though he expected something to pop out and attack. Must have been a military habit. It unnerved her. So did Dale’s proximity as he escorted her toward the Thrall‘s gangway. As she picked her way along the metal grating, sallow light flickered in the metal tube like an eclipsing sun. She couldn’t see past the darkness at the other end to gauge anything about the ship’s interior.
An oxidizing scent enveloped her, reminding her of wet metal. It could have been from automatic cleaners built into the ship’s ceiling like sprinklers. Though it might be more convenient than bringing in a cleaning crew like the Bard did every few months, the effects couldn’t be as sanitary.
A catwalk ran overhead, following their progress through the dim commonway. A series of pipes snaked beneath, reminding Mari that the ship was a lot like a plant—food from the roots was transported throughout the vessel via tubes. Although the Thrall didn’t have that feeling of life running in its veins, so maybe it was more of a dying husk. The nutrients, the water were all there, but no vitality, no color.
They passed a couple of men in coveralls. The leering stares of the laborers stood her hair on end. She rubbed her bare arms, wishing she would have worn a top that covered a little more, and not just because of the chill inside the ship.
“Do you have many passengers on the Thrall?” she asked.
“We have crew, not passengers,” Dale said. “Seventy-five, though most of them either work in the lower decks or wait there until we’re ready to off-load or take on cargo.”
“There are only six of us on the Bard. How does everyone fit here?” Granted the Trawler was twice as big as Mari’s ship, but with the cargo bays comprising the bulk of the vessel, passenger—crew—quarter
s had to be packed tight.
“We make room when we need it,” Dale said, adding a note of finality to the chit chat.
Her eyes adjusted to the scant light seeping from runners along the commonway’s floor, but the dreariness inside this ship pressed around her small form. So did Carlos. He’d shadowed her more closely with each step the farther they moved into the ship. Occasionally his arm brushed her shoulder. She wanted to shrink away from him, but there was nowhere to go.
At least the visit would be over within the hour. The thought of living here for six months was depressing at best, horrifying at worst. What had she been thinking?
Their shoes tapped a muted cadence along the hard rubber floor. Carlos’ heavy steps nearly vibrated up her leg. Needing to take some control, she slowed her pace, forcing Carlos to back off ever so slightly. She was about to ask for a little more room when she spotted the filtration system running along the wall to their right. Only advanced hydroponics labs had that kind of system, and judging by the slight organic smell and humming condensers, this one was already operational. Why would Dale need her if he had a system in place? Perhaps this one needed to be adjusted. But, Dale specifically wanted a system designed from scratch. He could just be ripping this one out entirely and starting over…which would be astronomically expensive.
Little jolts of foreboding swept through her fingers, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up as David’s concerns jabbed into her mind. When Carlos’ hand touched her shoulder to guide her toward a corridor on the left, she screamed.
Her echoed cry startled Dale, making him whip around. “You frighten too easily, dear.”
She was definitely frightened.
“I just don’t like people touching me,” she said. Specifically him, she wanted to add.
“That could be a problem for you later,” Dale said, more to himself than Mari.
Still she didn’t like the way he said it. Or the way he led them away from the hydroponics bay. Her heart raced. A rush of panic rolled through her chest and surged out into her limbs in little adrenaline licks of electricity.
Carlos’ body blocked her exit back to the gangway. If she could just get around his huge bulk. Refusing to take another step away from escape, Mari stopped and grabbed at her ear, snatching the silver hoop out.
“I think I dropped my earring.” She ducked down and acted as though she were searching the floor. “Can you help me find it?”
Dale grumbled.
“Sorry, but they were a gift.” Mari stealthily maneuvered around the Armadan’s leg.
“Fine. Help her,” Dale said.
As soon as Carlos stooped over, Mari casually slid her body around him. Then she bolted for the gangway.
FIFTEEN
Keep it calm. Mari hasn’t been gone that long.
David didn’t even make it up the Bard‘s gangway before Sean met him. Maybe he had news. He hadn’t when David contacted him from the contractors’ guild.
“Found Mari’s reporter in her room.” Sean held up the small silver bracelet. “She must have forgotten it this morning. She does that sometimes. There was another message on there besides yours…from Dale.” Sean’s voice tightened saying the man’s name.
He played the audio for David.
“I’m sorry I missed you today, dear. I thought you were planning to come by this morning, but I suppose you not showing up is your answer. Such a shame. It would have been nice to work with you. Maybe some other time.”
“Bullshit,” David said. “He’s lying, covering his tracks.”
“That’s what I figure, too.”
“I’m heading over to get Mari now,” David said.
“At the industrial docks?” Solimar Robbins sauntered up the gangway in a revealing pink sari that showed off her shapely legs and her Upper Caste poise. Few women David had met had her grace or her penchant for always being in other people’s business.
“What are you talking about?” David asked.
“I just saw Mari leaving Wright’s Landing. She was in the back of a high end transport heading toward the commercial side of the docks.”
David looked at Sean. “That’s where the Thrall would be berthed. If he takes her on board….” Anger and panic wouldn’t let David finish his thought.
“It’ll take forever to get across the bay on a ferry,” Sean said.
“How else are we going to get there?”
“A municipal fast track.”
“Do you plan on stealing one from the dock officials?” David needed feasible ideas. Sure the lightweight, high speed mini boats could cover the distance from one dock to the other in one tenth of the time a passenger ferry could, but he didn’t have access to one.
“It’s easier than you think,” Sean said.
David’s head snapped around, his hope pushing out thoughts of committing a felony. “Then do it. In the meantime, Soli, can you use your archivist credentials to track that transport to its destination?”
“I’ll try to access the stationary cameras along their route, and maybe syphon something from any voyeurs wandering around, but I can’t promise much.”
“Send us anything you get,” David said. “No matter how small.”
“Is Mari okay?” she asked.
David didn’t wait to respond—he and Sean ran for the municipal docks. Dodging pedestrians along the concrete boardwalk, the two men drew more than a few grumbles of displeasure. When a group of Embassy office staffers froze in David’s path, he shouldered through their grey suited figures without a word of apology. He dove into combat mode and focused on his mission—get to Mari.
To his surprise, Sean matched him stride for stride—David had assumed the mech tech’s sedentary lifestyle wouldn’t include conditioning, but Sean was almost in military-grade shape.
The communications barbican curved into view ahead, appearing like a great concrete and glass ship about to take flight. This red and black, multi-leveled structure monitored traffic for all three docks surrounding Carrey Bay. It also was the sole point of access to the municipal docks from the domestic berths.
David slowed his pace as the security gate came into view. The blue glimmer of an electronic barrier funneled visitors through two scanners. If he and Sean were to reach the restricted municipal area, they’d have to make it through those scanners, like the hundred or so other citizens already in the queue.
“If we wait in that line we’ll never make it,” Sean said.
“We’re not waiting in line.” David shouldered his way amongst the crowd, Sean on his heels.
A group of dock workers formed a blockade, intent on not letting them pass. But David moved them with a stare, the resentment from last night’s attack most likely written all over his face. These men weren’t the same ones who had assaulted him and Mari, but they reminded him too much of them.
As he came closer to the automated gate sensor, he hung back a bit in line. Pungent smells of sulfides and petrol-based substances mixed with the scent of bodies standing too close in the stagnant air surrounding the entrance. A concrete wave of a wall blocked the sea breezes, forming an eddy of heat and trapping the miasma of chemical and organic scents. It agitated David, heightening his unpleasant mood. He shoved further up the line.
Just two laborers remained between David and entry. “Do we rush the gate when these guys go in?” he asked Sean.
“Ever jump one of these before?” he asked.
“No.”
“If the sensor detects more than one person entering, it triggers an alarm and locks both offenders in between this gate and the next one.”
David wondered at the secondary access just a few meters from the first. Now it made sense, like opposite ends of a steel cage.
“Watch,” Sean said.
One of the men in front of them slid his wrist over a waist-high scanner within a concrete column that followed the exact curve of the entire barbican. The man’s worn reporter looked clunky and hopelessly outdated compared to the
ones Sean had provided for David, but the antiquated equipment did the job—both gates dropped their electronic shields at the same time, allowing him access through each one in turn.
David looked to Sean for their next step.
“We’re going to trick the sensor,” Sean said.
“How?”
“I have a hack that will mimic the algorithm used by that last guy’s reporter.”
“Won’t it register that he went through already?” David asked.
“Believe it or not, the security system doesn’t care how many times the same ident goes through, just so it’s one of the ones programmed for this area.”
“I hope you’re right,” David said.
“I am. You’re up first.” Sean held his naked wrist over the gate sensor.
Prompted by his implanted reporter, lines of coded gibberish flew across the blue screen projected onto his palm. Within seconds Sean’s hack opened both electronic gates. David forced a casual pace into the cage, but he was ready to sprint for the other gate if he heard an alarm. Halfway there he fought the urge to bolt. He balled his fists and tensed his arms as if to come out swinging, but there wouldn’t be anything he could do against an electronic gate.
Two more steps and he passed beyond the second scanner. The shield glimmered back to life momentarily until Sean tricked the sensor again. Though he made it look easy, David could only imagine how sophisticated the program was which allowed them access to such a secure area.
His reporter vibrated. “Did you find them, Soli?”
“Yes, according to several dockside cameras, her transport arrived at berth six-two-four. She entered a freighter with two men. She seemed nervous, David.”
Soli’s voice quivered, whether out of true concern or melodrama, David wouldn’t speculate.
“Keep an eye on that freighter. If you see any activity, like Mari leaving, let us know.”
David knew Soli wouldn’t see any such thing.
“This way,” Sean said.
They mingled with some of the dock workers until they could break off and head toward the fast track slips.
Sean kept his voice low and asked, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on before we get there?”
Greenshift Page 11