by Eric Vall
The smile faded off my face, and my eyebrow twitched in annoyance. “Hey, don’t you think you’ve caused enough of a mess?” I said to him. “Or do you need my AI to teach you another lesson in manners?”
The man looked up at me, and when he met my eye, I realized with a jolt that he was just a kid, maybe seventeen or eighteen, but definitely not a man yet. His face was still too narrow, too sharp, his eyes too big in comparison. He was all limbs and joints, too, the hard knobs of his shoulders and elbows apparent under his threadbare and torn clothing. He hadn’t filled out completely yet it seemed, his body lanky and coltish in its youth.
His eyes, though. His eyes were stark blue, the color pale like chips of ice, shards of glass, a frozen lake, a winter sky. His eyes were years older than the rest of him, hardened and sharp. One look could cut slice people to ribbons.
I knew those eyes. I recognized them.
I used to see them in my own face back on Proto whenever I looked in the mirror.
The satisfaction and amusement I had felt at seeing Omni truss up these would-be-thieves soured in my mouth as I watched the boy spit again in defiance and then poke at the sore hole in his gum line where his front tooth used to be.
“You’re fuckin’ tin can knocked out my tooth,” Isaias accused, his speech muffled by the blood and swelling lip, but his eyes were caustic.
I frowned and crossed my arms in front of my chest as I tried to ignore the twinge of guilt beneath my sternum. “Well, to be fair, you were trying to steal our ship,” I reasoned. “Our AI is programmed for self-defense.”
Isaias snorted and rolled his eyes. The left one looked like it was starting to black near the corner closest to the bridge of his nose. “Self-defense,” he scoffed. “That’s rich.”
My brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”
“It means it’s funny, you actin’ all the victim, like this some great tragedy,” the boy spat, his eyes twin blue flames, “like you’d have even missed a few supplies! Like goddamn Terra wouldn’t have reimbursed you every last credit. Save me the fuckin’ lecture.”
The contempt is his face twisted his features into something ugly. The emotion was pure, raw, unfiltered hatred. In a perfect universe, no one so young would know what that type of hate felt like, but the cosmos were far from perfect. Hell, I’d settle for fair, for balanced, for anything other than the unpredictable chaos that reigned over all of our lives.
Neka suddenly stepped up from behind me and stomped her foot. I looked at my assistant in surprise. Her normally genial face was scrunched in anger, and her tail flicked from side to side irritably.
“Don’t talk to CT like that,” she hissed. Her ears were flat against her head, and her pupils were razor-thin slits. “You’re being very rude. This is our home, and we’re not even with Terra-Nebula!”
Isaias snapped his gaze over to Neka and narrowed his eyes at her ears and tail. “Oh please. I saw the colors you were wearin’ earlier. Besides, I know a corpseman when I see one.” He sniffed at her in disdain. “Although, I didn’t know they liked to take on pets. Does he like to pull your tail at night, kitty?”
I stepped forward with a scowl because I didn’t let anyone talk shit about Neka. However, Akela surprisingly beat me to it.
“Oh, shut your goddamn grease trap, Isaias,” the silver-haired mechanic snapped. She glared daggers at the younger boy. “Before I shut it again for you.” She smiled at him then, a beautiful, bright smile, but it was in such direct contrast to the violent promise in her amethyst eyes that a shudder went down my spine.
Note to self: don’t piss off the new mechanic.
Akela turned to me when she felt my eyes on her. Her mouth thinned in annoyance as she tilted her head at the boy. “Isaias is the son of Thaddeus Rosek. Thaddeus is the biggest gangster on the station. He and his crew run most of the casinos on the upper levels. But poor little Isaias here,” she cooed sickeningly but with her eyes sharp as glass, “had a falling out with his father not too long ago, so he’s had to slum it like the rest of us.”
The boy smartly lapsed into silence, but he still glowered at us. A part of me still wanted to smack him upside the head for his Neka comment but I took a deep breath and let it go. At least I didn’t feel so guilty about the bloody lip now that I knew the punk was a gangster,
I uncrossed my arms and let them fall to my side with a sigh. “Listen,” I said to the boy. “Full disclosure, we used to work for T-N, alright? We don’t anymore. So all that?” I gestured to the boxes of supplies stacked around the cargo hold. “Is all we have left. No chance at reimbursement. So you’ll have to forgive our AI for being a tad overzealous in his protection.”
Isaias barked out a harsh laugh. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he drawled sarcastically. “Things must be so hard for you on your state of the art spaceship.”
I winced. He did have kind of a point there.
“Kid,” I started, but he cut me off before I could say another word.
“Don’t ‘kid’ me,” he snapped, his eyes cutting me open. “Don’t patronize me. You stand there and think you know what it means to suffer.” He looked me up and down in scorn. “You have no goddamn clue. Ever since the docks started goin’, it’s been nothin’ but hell. People starve here every day. People get sucked out into space, and sometimes they’re considered the lucky ones.”
His eyes went to Akela as he said this, and the mechanic’s eyes were both livid and terribly sad. I knew Isaias had referred to her brother on purpose. It seemed he was trying to get a rise out of the silver-haired woman.
“Loric knows what I’m talkin’ about,” he went on, and he didn’t take his gaze from Akela. “That’s why she’s chomping at the bit to get out of here, even if she has to do it while sittin’ on your lap, corpseman. She knows this place is a death trap. I just can’t believe you’d abandon your poor, sweet mother here,” he directed at the mechanic. “Do you actually have a heart, or is it just one big greasy wheel in your chest?”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Akela seethed. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and color rose in her cheeks. She faced Isaias fully, fury in every line of her face. “Don’t talk to me like you know anything about loss or pain. You’ve only been playing at poverty for a few months now. Some of us have lived it.”
She looked like she was moments away from punching the boy, and I was kind of tempted to let her.
But Isaias’s words, even if they were only empty rhetoric coming from his lips, made me think because… he was actually right.
The people of Theron were suffering, like I had suffered alongside millions of others on Proto. All because of the Corporations and their greed. It’s not like Terra-Nebula didn’t have the funds to properly fix and maintain this station. There was just no profit in it. And if these people couldn’t make money for the Corporation, they were essentially expendable. Terra-Nebula had taken what it needed from Theron Prime, and it had left behind the remnants to rot.
I thought about our mission, about the plan to take Proxima V and really stick it to all those Corporate bastards. I could nearly taste the satisfaction of my revenge.
But … it seemed like that would have to wait just a little while longer. There was something we had to do first.
People waited their whole lives to do something of importance, and most people died without ever achieving anything.
But I wasn’t most people.
I was Colby Tower, the best broker in the galaxy. And now that I wasn’t tied down by Corporate policies or regulations, I could do whatever the hell I wanted.
I looked over at Akela. I thought of how much the mechanic had suffered during her life. I thought of the look of resignation on her mother’s face when they said goodbye. Despite what I had said, the old woman was sure her daughter wasn’t coming back.
I thought about all their pain and all the pain I remembered from my childhood, and I realized exactly what I wanted.
I wanted to help these people.
Even this little shithead Isaias.
“What would you say if I told you I could change things?” I abruptly blurted out loud. My brain was going a million light-years per second as a plan began to take form in my mind’s eye.
Isaias tore himself away from the glaring match he and Akela were in. He sneered at me. “I’d say you’d sound like every other corpseman I’ve ever met.”
I ignored the barb. “I’m serious,” I said. “What if I told you we could fix a majority of the docking ports without,” I emphasized strongly with a glance at Akela, “without using human labor. With the docks up and running, trade could increase again. Think about the cash flow. I bet your father would appreciate it. Maybe even enough to forgive you.”
Isaias considered my words. The hostility on his face lessened a degree to make room for skepticism. Beside him, Akela’s looked bewildered too, her smooth brow furrowed. Even Neka tilted her head at me as her ears flicked to and fro.
After a moment, Isaias lifted his chin and looked me square in the eye.
“Prove it,” he challenged, defiance stark in his blue eyes and in the sharp lines of his body.
I grinned at him wildly, plans and schematics already running through my head.
I always did love a good challenge.
Chapter 5
It took some convincing, but eventually, Isaias agreed to take us to meet with his father. Thaddeus Rosek was the heart, soul, and most importantly, the wallet of my plan. I needed him, but first, I needed an introduction. Gangsters usually didn’t like it when strangers showed up on their home turf unannounced. Even if Isaias and his daddy weren’t seeing eye to eye, the boy would at least spare us a barrage of welcoming bullets.
While Omni helped Isaias untie his friends and provide minimal first aid to those still bleeding, Akela came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned to find her frowning, her brow creased, her violet eyes shadowed.
“Can I talk to you?” she asked tightly. The mechanic cocked her head back toward the hallway that led out of the cargo hold.
I glanced at Neka to make sure she was alright while I stepped out, but the cat-girl was busy playing with the remaining drone. The miniature robot had a small laser pointer coming out of somewhere, and my assistant stalked and pounced again and again across the cargo hold, her tail an orange flicker of movement.
The other two drones still tended to our ‘guests,’ and I thought it looked like Omni could hold down the fort for five minutes.
I turned back to Akela and nodded. “Sure. After you.”
The silver-haired woman spun on her heel and stomped out of the cargo hold, her spine stiff. I followed after her cautiously. Something told me she wasn’t exactly happy.
The moment I was standing in the small exterior hallway and the door slid shut behind me, Akela spun around to face me and threw up her hands.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she exclaimed. Her amethyst eyes were sharp as glass.
I blinked at her, slightly confused. “Why are you upset?” I asked. “I thought saving your home would be cause for celebration or at least a smile.”
I meant that last bit as a joke, but the mechanic only scowled at me.
“This isn’t funny. I …” She exhaled sharply through her nose and closed her eyes. She took a moment to compose herself and then scrubbed at the shorn side of her head.
“Listen,” she started again as she opened her eyes. “I’m willing to believe you are who you say you are, that you’re this brilliant ex-broker and that you’re gonna do your best to screw T-N over and go steal or liberate this far away planet called Proxima whatever. Fine. Sure. You were good for the money upfront, I have no reason to believe you won’t be good for the rest of it.”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “I sense a but coming on.”
Akela narrowed her eyes at me. “But,” she echoed, “this is my home, and I don’t want you fucking it up more than it already is. I don’t know what you’re planning, but it won’t work. We’ve tried to fix the docks before, and every time, someone dies.”
“That’s why Omni is going to do the brunt of the manual labor,” I explained with a reassuring smile. “If we can get enough repair drones working, he can take care of most of the repairs remotely, but that’s why I need to talk to Rosek. We need his money to fund the repairs.”
The silver-haired mechanic barked a laugh. It was dry and without humor. “You’d sooner strike a new Odrine well on Oevis than get Thaddeus Rosek to part with a single credit of his,” Akela sneered, her beautiful face twisted in contempt. “He’s a greedy pig.”
I felt a grin split my face. “I’m counting on that,” I told the mechanic. “Look, you said you’re willing to believe I’m the broker I say I am, right? Then watch me work. Just trust me for a little while, and I’ll prove your faith is not misguided.”
When Akela just continued to frown, I gave her my best cajoling smile and added, “If everything goes according to plan, you could end up with double what I first promised you.”
I could tell the mechanic wanted to continue arguing, but I also saw the wheels turn behind her eyes as she did the math. At last, she subsided.
“Fine,” she muttered as she crossed her arms and averted her gaze. “Let’s see what you got then, broker.”
I bowed to her with mock ceremony. “Your wish is my command, milady,” I drawled as I swept my arm toward the cargo hold door.
Akela rolled her eyes, her mouth pursed, and marched back through the door. I took a deep breath, straightened my coat, and followed on her heels.
Isaias and his crew were mostly patched up by the time Akela and I returned, though the handful of roughed up young males kept casting side-long glances at the mini-drones on the other side of the room. Neka sat perched on a box of supplies and looked bored as she swung her legs back and forth. When she saw us, however, the cat-girl perked up and her ears followed suit as she hopped off the boxes and came bounding over.
“What’s the plan, CT?” my assistant mrowled, her big yellow eyes bright and her tail bushy.
I grinned at her and reached out to scratch behind her ears. “Let’s go make another withdrawal, huh?” I said to Neka with a wink. The cat-girl giggled and nodded, down for whatever plan I had concocted. She had been with me long enough that she knew to trust me, within reason at least. I still made stupid decisions from time to time. I was only a human, after all.
After I corralled everyone to the loading ramp, with Isaias leading the way, I paused and turned to one of the mini-drones.
“Hey, O,” I addressed the AI. “I have a small assignment for you.”
“You mean besides protecting the ship from thieves and also putting away all the supplies?” Omni sassed back.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a small thing. I just need a little information. Think you could find it and relay it to me?”
The drone stared at me. Without a head or eyes, it was a little disconcerting.
“Perhaps if you put your old flight suit on,” the AI said after a moment. “I haven’t had time to figure out how to integrate your communication array into your new items of clothing. Without it, I won’t be able to give you any information in real time.”
Suddenly, Akela appeared at my shoulder, Neka trailing behind her.
“What’s the hold-up?” the silver-haired woman asked as she looked between me and the drone. Behind her, I could see Isaias and his crew waiting at the bottom of the ramp.
After Omni had explained our dilemma to the mechanic, in very, very technical detail that I didn’t quite follow, Akela cocked her head to the side, her lilac eyes contemplative.
“Can you show me one of the old suits?” she asked at length, her eyes still far away in thought.
I turned to my assistant, but Neka was already bounding across the cargo hold to where she or Omni assumedly disposed of our old T-N suits. A moment later, the cat-girl returned, a wad of red and blue material balled up in her hand.
; “Thank you,” the mechanic said to the cat-girl. “Give me a few minutes to look at this.” She turned away to spread the flight suit over the nearest stack of boxes, her right hand digging in the pocket of her cargo pants in search of a tool. She hunched over the material for about five minutes, her hands working, and surprisingly the smell of solder filled the air. I couldn’t see what she was doing at all, and when Neka turned to me with her eyebrows raised, I just shrugged my shoulders.
Finally, the mechanic turned around to face us with something cupped in her hands. “Turn around,” she instructed me. I did so and then I felt the warm brush of her fingers along the nape of my neck as she worked the comms into my new suit. An instant later and she stepped away.
“Okay,” Akela said as she stood back and placed her hands on her hips. Somehow, she already had a small smear of grease on her left cheek. She looked down at the drone beside her. “Try that out.”
There was a familiar burst of static in my ear and then Omni intoned, “I really, really, really like her.”
I burst out laughing and gave the mechanic a thumbs up. “Crystal clear,” I told her.
Akela grinned in pride and turned to Neka. “I’ll fix yours up when we get back.”
The cat-girl smiled, her eyes crinkling with happiness, and she bounced on her toes as her tail lashed back and forth.
I smiled at the two women getting along and then turned back to Omni. “Okay, O, now for that assignment.”
I gave the AI my instructions, and a few minutes later we headed down the ramp to join Isaias and his crew. It seemed Rosek’s son wasn’t in a very talkative mood after having his ass kicked and then being made to wait, so he just jerked his head over his shoulder and set off across the station floor. We all fell into line behind him, his crew, then Akela, followed by Neka, and I brought up the rear. Neka seemed to be chattering the mechanic’s ear off as they walked. Well, the cat-girl more like bounced along, but the silver-haired woman seemed to be humoring her enthusiasm.