“Technically, yes. He no longer walks this planet. But it bothers me still, okay?”
She took another sip, taking in what he had confessed. “You do realize you were the one who decided to get rid of him, even before the fiasco with this employee?”
“Yes, I’m well aware of that, Ms. Newld, but I would have liked to have done it on my terms. Besides, this puts us in a predicament. The Senate race ends in eight weeks and now we have no candidate. Dewitt was well positioned, and after the bill went through he would have been the people’s champion. Now, in death, he’s a disgrace.”
He paused to slump back down into the huge swivel chair behind his desk. He reached across to his humidor and pulled out some smoky comfort.
He looked over the hand-rolled plant and slid a finger along it, breaking the seal. “Where are we going to find a replacement in less than eight weeks?” His question was more of a statement of impossibility.
Jessica had shifted into a daze, or trance, or whatever it was she did.
Jessica Newld’s family had a long history with large and powerful commercial enterprises, but also of ancestors slipping over into the etheric when they died. This gave her an extra edge that Andus was pleased to have at his disposal. Not that he knew quite what the resource was, but she would often come back out of these episodes with information she had no way of accessing otherwise.
Andus lit his cigar, sucking on it to get it to light. He was somewhat comforted as he did so that he had his best person actively on the case.
A few moments later, Jessica seemed to be present behind her eyes again. She gathered herself together and reached into her handbag for her lipstick and mirror.
“Well?” asked Andus, waving his cigar like a mafia boss.
“We need do nothing right now. The candidate will become apparent to us in about three weeks.”
“But that’s three weeks doing nothing when we could be running down other possibilities.”
“It’ll be a waste of effort if you did. But if you must…” Jessica came out of these trances often less engaged in the problem.
It was as if whatever she saw back there made her so convinced that what was unfolding was inevitable, the immediate problem just became unimportant to her.
Jessica finished reapplying her lipstick, and put the mirror and makeup back into her bag. “Let’s go out,” she said.
Andus had to admit it was a good idea. At least it would be a distraction from the moment-to-moment torture of uncertainty he now felt. And it sure beat trying to catch a falling knife, which is how it felt right now with these short news cycles.
His normal reporting channels were still scrambling to figure out their asses from their elbows, now that they’d lost their candidate and one of their champions for their bill.
He got up from his desk. Cigar in hand, he led the way out of the office, beckoning Jessica to follow. Perhaps we should try that new bar down on 3rd Street, he mused as he holoed for the car to be brought around to the front.
Jessica took another sip of her half-finished martini and set the glass back on the end table. Getting up, she grabbed the atmojacket that she had draped over the back of the silk-edged sofa when she had waltzed in not twenty minutes before, then followed Andus out of the office to the car.
There were perks to spending one’s free time with other members of the city’s powerful and wealthy elite. Daddy would approve of her choice in friends.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Spaceport, Hangar 08177A
“Hi hi!” Paige called out, being the first to wander in through the open hangar door. “Crash? Brock? You guys here?” Garet followed closely behind her.
The sun wasn’t yet up, but the sky showed signs that the night was ending. Paige couldn’t help but think there was something weird about seeing the morning from this end. Nonetheless, it tied in nicely with the planet-hopping they were about to do. You really started to appreciate that day and night came from the rotation of the planet, rather than being an inevitable demarcation of your day.
Paige put her bag down just inside the door. She hadn’t brought much, just what she’d taken to work with her that morning when she’d pulled the download and then fled from work with Molly. Molly had given her some t-shirts and military sweats as a change of clothes, but she felt like she was walking around in her pajamas. She was excited about this new adventure, but damn she wished she had some of her own clothes.
She noticed her fingernails as she placed her bag on the hangar floor. The polish was chipped and needed redoing. Badly. This wasn’t like her. But it was something that was going to have to wait until later when they were safe again.
Garet put his gear down too and put an arm around her, pulling her close and giving her a squeeze. She had just started to relax into it when he got distracted and moved away to look at the enormous ship that completely filled the hangar, wing tip to wing tip.
A second later there was movement from underneath it.
Brock emerged from the underbelly and walked over. “Yo! How’s it going, girlfriends…and Joel?” He winked at Garet by way of introduction. Way to piss off a new person, thought Joel.
Still, he couldn’t help but smile. The guy radiated light, as if his ancestors were holding candles within him. Garet understood the joke and reached out his hand to introduce himself.
“Ah, so you the one that this lovely lady risked life and limb to save! You must be a great man. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, sir.” They shook hands.
“Crash ain’t here. He went to grab his gear and some breakfast for us. But we gonna be ready to go any time he gets back. We’ve got the flight plans submitted. Just waiting to hear about our window.” He turned to Molly, who had just joined them in the hangar and was carefully placing the crate with Neechie down on the floor. “Your supplies showed up a few hours ago. The delivery guys helped us load them, so we’re ready to go when Crash gets here.”
“Great!” said Molly. “Ok, so the bottlenecks are approval and a flight window?”
Joel knew where she was heading.
“And Crash. Who ain’t here,” qualified Brock.
“How long till he gets here?” she asked.
Brock checked the time on his holo. “Forty minutes, max.”
“Ok. See what you can do to hustle for a flight window soon. If you can charm, bribe or threaten your way to the front of the queue, then great.” She could feel Joel’s eye on her as she slipped into her old way of doing things. “This is urgent. If we can legitimately take off as soon as Crash gets here, do it. Otherwise, we pay the fine for skipping ahead of our takeoff window.”
Brock nodded. “You think we’re still in danger?”
She glanced over at Joel to check he was still of the same opinion. “Yeah. The safe house was compromised. It’s just a matter of time before they track us here. It’s going to happen. I want us to be off-world when they do.”
“And you ain’t talking about the police, right?”
“No. It’s not the police. It’s people who want us dead. Silenced.” Her face was serious. “So see if you can raise Crash on his holo too, and tell him to step on it.”
Brock nodded, agreeing they weren’t home free yet.
Molly, satisfied they were doing all they could to get away faster, nodded back to the sphinx crate she had set down. “Hey Joel, you forgot your cat in the car.”
Joel dropped his gear on the ground, then spun around and jogged over to the crate. He cooed and chatted to Neechie as he went.
Brock looked at him, one hand on his hip. “We have a sphinx coming with us?” he asked.
Joel had picked up the carrier. “New team member,” he called out.
“Don’t you guys know that everyone is a slave to a cat? Now we got how many bosses?” Brock raised his voice and his hand in mock outrage.
“I tried to tell him,” Molly said, giving Joel the “I-told-you-so” look.
“Ok, let’s get everyone and the gea
r on board double-time,” Molly announced to the group, marching straight down the hangar, looking for the entrance.
Brock nodded toward the ship. “You can head up the ramp at the back. We haven’t quite figured out all the doors and hatches on this thing yet, and Crash thought it would be best to leave them all sealed until we have more time.”
“Good move!” yelled Molly from the other end of the hangar. The sound of stomping on the metal grating suggested she was already halfway up the ramp. Garet was impressed by how fast she could move with a heavy pack. He wondered if it was the human genes or a military thing.
Garet followed her.
Paige bent down to pick up her bag.
“How you holding up, girl?” Brock asked her sympathetically as he started to pull up Crash’s number to give him a heads up.
“I’m doing okay. I could probably sleep for a week, my eye makeup is a mess and I really need a manicure.” She showed him her nails. “But, apart from that...” her voice trailed off. There was a sadness in her eyes.
Brock reached over and pulled her in for a simple hug.
“You know what?” Brock looked around like he was sharing a secret. “I got me some gear in my bag. When we get this bird in the air, you and me are at least getting that chipped stuff off and making you feel Sarkian again. Deal?” Paige smiled and nodded, a tear escaping from her eyes and trickling quickly down her face. She wiped it with her sleeve and felt another forming.
Brock hugged her again as she finally burst into tears, letting the tension break. They stayed like that until Paige decided she needed to breathe again. Brock let her pull away, noticing that Joel had quietly taken his pack and his feline team member into the ship.
“Go get your gear on board and choose your seat. And if you want some company, I can always use an extra hand down here. But if you want to chill, girl, you just go chill. Kay?”
She nodded, wiping her face again.
“Thanks, Brock. You’re the best.” She smiled again through the tears and waved to Brock as she turned and walked down the side of the ship after the others.
Brock sighed, then gathered his thoughts for the list of shit he had to finish to get this bird up faster than they had anticipated.
He noticed that his holo just pinged. “Yeah, Crash? There’s been a change of plans. We need you here, stat.”
On board the XC-0094B
Molly was on board, and in a flash had assessed the crew facilities. She watched the others scramble up the ramp. If they could be out of here in forty minutes, they might just be ahead of any cam processing that the police or hackers could do.
She scanned the area around her. The upper deck was full of passenger seats, enough for about fifteen soldiers and their gear plus support personnel. The cockpit had four seats, two in front and two behind. Weapons were controlled from the two rear seats, as they had a view of the sides of the ship.
Downstairs was the domain of engineering. There was lots of space and they could probably retrofit a few of the areas down the line, but it seemed sensible to keep the weight down as much as possible. That would give the ship more maneuverability and use less fuel on entry and exit of atmosphere.
She plonked her gear down near the front of the passenger area. “Okay, listen up, folks.” She waited for their attention. “Front is for sleeping.” She indicated the first half-dozen rows of chairs. “These chairs recline into resting positions, and it’ll be quiet up here.”
“Talking is at the back, and drinking,” she smiled as she said it, “is in the cargo hold. I know how raucous you guys can get when you knock back a few beers!” She blushed a little, making a joke at herself, and heard a couple of chuckles from the other three.
“Joel, can you find out what is in those crates, please? If they don’t explode or break, we can probably use them for sitting on.”
Joel nodded and jogged back down the ramp to talk to Brock.
“I think there are shower and restroom facilities downstairs. There should be a ladder in the cargo hold for getting down there. Garet, you want to investigate and let us know what condition it’s in? We might need to run out for some domestic supplies. But we have to be fast.”
Garet nodded and started looking around the crates to find a hole in the floor that would lead to the lower deck. Eventually he found it, and discovered the ladder there. This must be it, he thought to himself.
Paige dropped her bag and looked around awkwardly. Molly didn’t want to coddle her. Even if she did, she wouldn’t know how.
Joel reemerged. “Nothing breakable or explosive in those crates. And they’re pretty sturdy, according to Brock. We’re good to sit on them and stack them if we want.” He immediately started rearranging them, lifting and clearing until he’d made a little cubby with a table and “chairs” for about six people.
Meanwhile, Garet emerged to report on the facilities downstairs. “All looks good. These are nice digs. We’ll need soap, towels, and, well, everything else, to be honest. Have we got time to hit a store?”
Molly nodded. “Yeah, but fast. Be back in less than thirty. Take someone with you. Joel has credits. Don’t use cards, tokens, or anything traceable. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t get recognized. Don’t make any calls. And you may want to pick up a couple of changes of clothes for you and Paige while you’re there.”
Paige heard what was going on, her ears pricking up at the word “clothes”.
“I’ll come with you.” She saw her chance to be able to dress in something a little more flattering and comfortable than Molly’s sweats.
Molly smiled to herself, understanding Paige’s eagerness. She was about to go back to her holo when Joel caught her eye.
“I’m going with you,” he announced to Garet and Paige. Molly nodded, understanding his unspoken reasoning about keeping their clients safe.
“Less than thirty,” Molly called down to them all. “If you’re not back, we’re heading off-world without you.” She was teasing, obviously. But she said, very poignantly, “Paige…”
Paige spun round amongst the bustle and activity, mock offense on her face.
She was about to protest, but Molly got there first. “I said fast. Grab a few outfits and get going. There isn’t time for a full makeover. I mean it!”
Paige pretended to flounce out through the cargo area. “It’s so unfair. You never let me do what I want, Mom!” The final word was a well-placed dig, considering Molly’s extreme lack of mothering abilities.
Touché, Paige. Touché, she thought.
Joel and Garet jogged after her down the ramp, laughing.
Okay, so where are we at with our safe house list?
Given the last tweak to the variables and the second filter we applied, we have a choice of three. One of them seems like an anomalous result that didn’t show up the first time we made a search request. It’s actually outside the locations we were looking at, in the asteroid belt before we get to the Outer System.
And we didn’t search that location. I didn’t even know there was any population there.
Neither did the rest of the world. It looks like something that someone has gone to great lengths to keep a secret. I’ve found redacted files on a military server and deleted files elsewhere.
But it fits our criteria?
Seems to.
Complete with enough civilization to get supplies.
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