Diamond on Your Radar

by F P Adriani

  “That scar on her face—you ever see it close up? When I saw a plastic surgeon listed on that building’s plaque, I figured that’s why she came back here. And the thing is: her initial appointment was for her third day on Hera, which was when she made an appointment for Strand to start the actual work on her face yesterday. But then on her fifth day here, she canceled yesterday’s appointment. I wonder what happened.”

  *

  At this point neither Nell nor I had actually spoken with either Derek or Tan since we’d left Diamond. So when Nell and I finished our packing, we went downstairs to the Communications room to call them.

  Normally, only big buildings on Hera had Communications rooms, and communications to-and-from were typically sent through the tiniest of space flumes—microflumes, which were used wherever and whenever they were available so people could talk in real-time over long distances.

  Nearly all flumes flowed in one general direction only, so you needed a flume with a nearby sister flume in the opposite flow direction for fast long-distance communications—or to get back to where you’d come from. A sad fact I’d only recently learned about flume exploration: for some places where one-way-only flumes existed, when those flumes had first been discovered, the humans who’d discovered them had gotten stranded in and then died in those isolated layers….

  At this time and day where Tan and Derek were on Diamond, I figured they’d both probably be at The Citadel; they normally had similar schedules, just in different departments.

  But this was an unscheduled call, so they hadn’t been sitting and waiting for us; we had to leave a message, wait, and have them call us back, which they did twenty minutes later, or at least Derek did.

  His enthusiastic face and voice came on the line, which was great for Nell. Because Tan had an upper-level job, I had been hoping he’d be available now to speak to me no matter what….

  Unfortunately, I’d hoped for nothing: Derek informed me that Tan wasn’t there. He was still too busy.

  “It’s the artifact show,” Derek explained. “An hour ago he went to drive some politicians over to the next county.”

  I nodded at him, then I left the room a moment later, my throat feeling a bit too tight for comfort.

  *

  On the train to Shiloh Center, both Nell and Jamie slept, but I had thinking to do: thinking about what to do next.

  Everything I knew about Millie’s specific whereabouts didn’t add up to much. She’d probably been to the two other places on her itinerary, which were also businesses. But she had to spend her nights somewhere—and I had no leads on that, itinerary or not.

  Not that the two locations weren’t important pieces of information for other reasons, especially considering one was The Neon Institute—the place Amy Castano had been connected with, the place I had become suspicious of. Before I’d left Diamond, I’d researched more about The Institute, and I didn’t like what I found.

  The Stein Refinery was on Millie’s itinerary for her fourth day here, and the next day was when she’d canceled the second Strand appointment. Something must have gone wrong.

  But, without question, The Neon Institute was the most troubling development; when Mike had first shown me Millie’s itinerary and I’d seen that Institute listed there, I instinctually felt an I-really-don’t-want-to-go-to-Hera moment. Would I ultimately regret my not having listened to my instincts then? That remained to be seen.

  I had pulled out Millie’s itinerary once again, and now I realized that my investigation had wound up forming a straight line, with John at the center point, Amy Castano at one end, and the Institute at the opposite end…. No, that probably wasn’t right. More likely, The Institute was at the center, and Amy and John were on the ends….

  So far, The Institute looked questionable, and I probably had to proceed carefully about that, which was tough to do now: being in a strange, I’m-just-not-used-to-this environment did not help me work effectively….

  I sighed, my palms pressing against my seat’s armrests, my stomach lurching a bit, my lungs burning. The rail had reached a bumpy patch, and for some reason that Heran air sickness suddenly took hold of my body again. I needed another Supershot. In my mind, I moved that to the top of my to-do list to right after we got off this fucking train.

  *

  About an hour before our stop, Jamie and Nell woke from their slumbers. Jamie was seated on my left and Nell was seated across from us, facing backwards to the train’s motion.

  Jamie yawned and stretched his arms in front of him, and something hit the left side of my head then. My head spun around, my eyes locked onto him, and I finally saw that a folded breather helmet had slipped out of his jacket’s neck toward my direction.

  “You wear a breather suit?” I asked him, my eyebrows rising.

  “Sure, most times. Especially on the rails. You never know—there could be an accident that busts through a bubble.”

  “But I thought Herans don’t wear the suits, that the daxon doesn’t bother natives so much.”

  One of his big loud laughs rushed from his mouth. “Where’d you get that idea?” That fucking-asshole bartender. “Herans are only humans too.”

  “Someone showed us a daxon wrist gauge—and now I remember I forgot to buy two from the hotel store.”

  Jamie was laughing again, shaking his head this time. “Don’t waste your money! The daxon gauges are an overpriced scam. Hunks of junk that don’t work most times. I told you that you need a guide, Giba.” He was still slowly shaking his head, right at me now.

  I reached into one of my jacket pockets and pulled out the Moonspan book. “I’ve looked at this today…a good deal of the words are English. But the combinations with Spanish are odd. And I think ejecta comes from Earth-Moon’s geography?”

  “Yep, a bunch of the words do,” said Jamie, his head nodding now. “Moonspan’s like a language of hybrid idiomatic expressions—most of them can’t be literally translated and hold the same meaning. Moonspan’s a lot of memorization. You ever been to Earth-Moon?”

  I flushed, then stammered, “I’ve—I’ve been to that moon, yeah.”

  “You speak so brusquely, yet sing-song. You’ve got an Earth accent.”

  I did not want to talk about any of that. My eyes fell down to the guide as my fingers flipped the pages. “You might have to come with me a lot and translate—tomorrow I’m going on a guided tour somewhere. Can’t tell if it’ll be in English. I won’t talk much, but I want to understand when others talk.”

  “Where’s the tour?”

  “The Neon Institute.”

  His eyebrows rose; he pointed a forefinger out the window beside me. “Notice all the neon lighting around here? Lots and lots of neon, whether people want it or not. But the NI isn’t only about neon. They research and finance gas exploration—something like that. I don’t know much about that geo stuff. It’s just everyone knows who they are.”

  He was frowning now, as if he were thinking about something. The way he’d said “who they are” seemed strange to me, so I asked him about that.

  He shook his head, his eyes falling on the train’s other occupants; then he lowered his voice. “It’s just some Herans don’t like the place. It gives us a bad name.”

  “How?”

  Nell leaned forward toward us, her elbows on her knees.

  But Jamie only went back to shaking his head, except this time it was an I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-this fast shake. “I’ve said enough. Anyway, you won’t need me with you—there’s an English tour.”

  “You act like you don’t know the place, but you certainly know details about it all the same.”

  His dark eyes pointedly blinked at me. “I went there once on a school trip—years ago. I’m not certain they have an English tour, but they did then. I don’t know what to tell you, Persista Giba. Give them a call, why don’t you?”

  “I will. When we get to the hotel. What’s a persista giba?”

  “A persistent boss.”


  “Well, there’s no doubt about that,” said Nell. “Persistent Pia. That’s one of her best qualities.” She motioned for me to toss her the guide, so I did.

  “I want to know how to say hard-headed,” Nell said now.

  “Is that a hint?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

  She laughed, shook her head “no.” But I had my doubts.

  “How about: you es una ejecta cabeza, for you’re a hard-headed shithead,” Jamie said, looking directly at Nell.

  “Ha-ha-ha. Very funny, ejecta for brains.”

  “I’d rather have shit for brains than a maria boca.”

  Nell flipped through the guide, apparently looking for a translation of his seeming insult.

  But then Jamie finally said, “You won’t find that literally in there.”

  “I don’t need to.” She looked up at him with thundering brown eyes. “This says maria are the Earth-Moon seas. I think you said I’ve got a big mouth.”

  His forefinger pointed at her. “Very good. You’re learning.”

  “How do you say, ‘You’re a big dick’?” Nell asked, looking down at the guide again.

  I sighed and sat back in my seat. “We’re soooo getting on each other’s nerves today. I wish we’d fucking get to this Shiloh place already. I need one of those Supershots. My stomach’s rolling as fast as this train, only my insides don’t have any brakes.”

  *

  A little later we were finally walking through the train station. I looked around me at all the people—and I did not like the atmosphere. I heard some voices speaking Moonspan, but I had no idea what they were saying.

  Though that wasn’t the main reason I didn’t like the place: right away I noticed that the people here stared at other people a lot. And the three of us were prime objects for the staring. It seemed Shiloh people all wore these red-and-black suit-like outfits. Yet because we three were dressed in no such uniform, we stuck out. I’d have to remedy this before we went traipsing around anywhere….

  I sighed. This whole trip had wound up requiring a lot more money and work than I’d planned. Had it been worth it? So far, I’d turned up shit.

  Either way, I gave myself three days now: even if I didn’t come up with a single thing by then, I’d get the hell out of this shithole.

  *

  “Who the hell is Arnold Kreig?” Nell asked.

  “You are,” I replied.

  We were in our new room in our new hotel. I’d just handed her a piece of paper: a forgery of what had been Mike’s fake-cover itinerary. Earlier I’d made a copy of Nell’s itinerary photo; now I taped it to the Arnold Kreig one, and then I’d have to make another copy of the new whole.

  “You’re coming with me to the refinery,” I said to her. “And I don’t want to flash our real IDs. Too dangerous.”

  “What about me?” said Jamie from beside me. “Can I get an I. S. Superman ID?”

  I rolled my eyes at his grin.

  And Nell said, “I hate to tell you this, Pia-babe, but I don’t look like an Arnold Kreig. It’s the between-the-legs thing.”

  “We’ll white-over the title to Arn for Arnette and make a copy downstairs.”

  From the table in front of me, she picked up another piece of paper and began laughing. “Ginger Meek!”

  “That’s my new name,” I said, “Don’t wear it out. No, really—scratch that and do wear it out. From now on when we’re floating in public here, you’re Arn and I’m Gin. We’ve got to get used to that.”

  I looked at Jamie again. Earlier he’d told me he would be staying at a student hostel. But now I said that I’d rather he stay in this hotel.

  He frowned and shuddered a bit. “I won’t stay in a seedy place like this.”

  He was right; this room looked like the definition of seedy. Mold clung to the bathroom ceiling above rusty bathroom fixtures; the small bedroom contained only one dinky dresser, two narrow beds, and a tiny table, which faced the glass door to the balcony, which glass was covered with a gray-green dusty sheen…definitely not an aesthetically appealing space.

  Nevertheless, this hotel had one thing going for it: it was quite close to the two places I had to check out.

  I sighed as I removed my special case from on top of the tiny table. “Well, I’m sure your hostel’s nicer, but Nell and I have no choice but to stay here. We need privacy. And right now, I also need a Supershot.”

  *

  As I ordered one down in the hotel bar, Jamie stood beside me and encouraged me to use Moonspan. And I sort of did.

  “Dos Supershots, cold,” I said to the bartender.

  “Mon, eh?” she asked me.

  “What—money?” I reached into my pocket and pulled out some Heran bills. But then the bartender laughed loudly. I scowled at her.

  “She meant do you want your shot with ice—mon is ice,” said Jamie, laughing too.

  I could feel my face was bright red. “How the fuck am I supposed to know that? No mon,” I said to the bartender, scowling again.

  *

  The shots gave me the energy I needed for the rest of the afternoon, which wound up a busy one.

  First we had to go shopping for the red-and-black suits—or at least Nell and I had to go shopping. Jamie flat-out refused to wear a suit.

  But while we were standing in the lobby, getting ready to leave, I told him, “I don’t want us to stick out so much. So if you’re coming with us around here, you’ve got to wear one.”

  “I don’t have to do a damn thing. Maybe I’ll sit this one out. The short crotches on the pants hurt my nuts.”

  I laughed now. “By all means then, don’t wear one.”

  “On the other hand…what if you need me to translate?”

  I just looked at him.

  *

  “God damn my damn nuts,” Jamie said as he picked at the crotch of his new suit-pants.

  Armed with my case, two fake itineraries and a patched-together fake ID for Jamie, the three of us were now walking down the block where the refinery was.

  As we moved, I said to Jamie, “I’ve seen men all over here wearing the suits. What makes you so special?”

  “They don’t have my nuts,” he said.

  I laughed under my breath as I glanced down at the bulge of his crotch. I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but he was making me wonder for chrissake….

  Suddenly he pointed farther down the block. “Where did you say this place was—on the corner?”

  “Yeah.” I looked up, saw the huge building ahead—the huge building with the boards over the big front door and windows, and the For Sale sign on the small grassy area out front. “Crap,” I said, feeling my chest burn with anger and disappointment. “Another fucking dead end.”

  “What about the scanner?” Nell asked fast, pulling the Osier box out of her red jacket. “Can’t I use it?”

  “I guess we could go closer, but what’s the point? I know both John and probably Millie’s been here too. But there’s no one around now. And the place looks like it’s been closed up for a long time.”

  I watched Nell’s face quickly deflate. So I said fast, “All right. We’ll take a look around. Use it on the front-door boards. I’ll take a walk around the back.”

  *

  The scanner turned up nothing and neither did we. As I’d said: a dead end.

  “Goddammit,” I was grumbling as we got back on the train. I felt very red in the face.

  “Well, what else can we do?” Nell asked, flashing me a confused frown.

  “I could randomly go place-by-place, looking for her. Maybe I’ll turn up something.”

  “But that would take forever!” Nell said.

  “I’ve got to find something about Millie—that she’s fucking alive—and bring that back with me at least.”

  Jamie tapped me on my arm. “You got a picture of her I could use? Maybe she’s staying somewhere local. I could check around the hostel and a few other places I know.”

  I didn’t respond at first. Then
I looked at him and said, “That’s a good idea. Just be careful.”

  *

  While he was searching elsewhere, I decided to check the hotel Nell and I were staying at.

  First I flashed a computer printout of Millie’s picture at the concierge’s desk, doing my best with the Moonspan, at least I hoped I was. Then I mimed about her to a few members of the hotel’s cleaning crew. But once again I turned up nothing.

  “I feel like my head’s going to explode,” I said to Nell as we left the hotel and walked toward a smaller one.

  “If this is detective work, I’m glad I’m not a detective,” Nell replied.

  I grunted, noticed her frowning face. “I should have told Jamie to stay with you in the room. You look too tired!”

  “I’m all right. But for now, I can only do this one more place….”

  We wound up only needing to do the one.

  When we reached the front of the smaller hotel, we ran into Jamie, and while he was relaying to me that no one had seen Millie at the student hostel, I noticed a Temporary Kitchen Help Wanted sign taped to the hotel’s front window.

  We went inside as job applicants and made it all the way back to the kitchen, where I said to the head cook and Jamie translated, “A friend of mine told us about the openings here.” I pulled out Millie’s image and flashed it at the cook.

  “Oh, es Millie,” he said then.

  I almost shouted HOORAY! And out of the corner of my right eye, I could see Nell’s feet shift excitedly.

  Now I told Jamie to tell the cook that Millie was supposed to meet us here today and introduce us to the hotel’s staff, but she never showed up.

  Jamie did as I’d asked; then the guy told him in Moonspan that she was only a part-time kitchen cleaning person, wasn’t scheduled back to work for two days, and he didn’t know where to reach her.

  Jamie said something else to him, and then he told me, “He says at night she sometimes goes to The Flamingo, a bar nearby.”