by D. M. Pruden
“Thanks, Schmaltzy. I appreciate the thought, but the truth is, once they do their digging, they’ll decide to search for someone else. Tanza only kept me because he was in a bind and couldn’t find a replacement who would work for what I do. In all honesty, I can’t afford to lose this gig.”
Schmaltz placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll still put in a good word anyway.” He burped, ruining the moment.
I smiled at him, downed my drink and ordered another round to celebrate Schmaltz’s good fortune. This was going to be a long night.
♢♢♢
At some point during the evening, I realized I was drunk. It’s not that I hadn’t intended to end up inebriated; that was my single-minded purpose from the moment Requiem touched down. It annoyed me how little effort it required. Schmaltz fared no better and we both slouched next to each other in a booth at the back of the bar, engaged in a conversation that would not be recalled by either of us the next morning.
I sighed and tossed the last of my money on the table as a tip. “Easy come, easy go. I’ll hustle up some more.”
“C’mon, Doc. I’ll see you safely home.”
“Naw. I’m in the next section. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home? You don’t exactly live in the upper Tens. I don’t feel right about letting a lady wander home alone. Why are you still living down here?”
“My place has the luxury of being affordable. The neighbourhood can be a little edgy, I’ll admit, but nothing ever happens that I can’t handle. Go home to the little woman, Schmaltz. She’s probably been keeping your side of the bed warm.”
He smiled stupidly as he reflected on my words. “Okay, Doc. G’night. You go straight home.”
I gave him a sloppy kiss on the cheek and watched him stagger off to his anticipated booty call.
“Nowhere else to go,” I muttered to myself as I stumbled in the opposite direction.
My uncertain steps banged down the metal staircase to the apartment level. I tried without success to descend quietly and not wake those who needed to rise shortly for their fourteen-hour shifts. This was a working class neighbourhood for those with employment. For the majority who couldn’t find work, it was the least expensive place to crash before resorting to the charity shelter, or worse.
I wondered who I would find when I opened my door. Many of the apartments were leased by spacers like me who spent months away. They often arrived to discover squatters in their place. Generally, they were tolerated as long as they didn’t steal anything and the place wasn’t trashed. Things rarely got ugly because most people played by the rules and moved on when the real tenant returned. A few occasionally made trouble, but I’d been lucky so far. I sometimes worried I might one day return to someone taking up permanent residence in my humble lodgings.
The corridor was dark, partly out of a poor effort to simulate a Terran night cycle, but mostly because the expired lighting panels didn’t get replaced. The dim red glow of the few still functioning fire and CO2 detectors cast enough light for me to pick my way over the occasional body of somebody sleeping one off.
I silently counted the doors from the stairwell as I felt my way along the wall. Most of the numbers were rubbed off, so I kept track of how many I passed. Though I tried to maintain my unit number on my door, it never remained in place. It disappeared regularly with whatever creative graffiti offended the landlords enough. The corporation could respond quickly enough if somebody slighted their name in writing, but couldn’t seem to find the resources to put in some lights.
Confident of my count, I stopped at my apartment. The ancient panel lit up in anticipation of my manual entry code The bastards who owned all this didn’t update for CI access. That was okay since most down here chose to deactivate their implants for various reasons.
Something stirred in the shadows and I jumped back, startled, as a figure emerged into the light. It moved between me and the door and I suddenly wished I had taken Schmaltz up on his offer to walk me home.
Chapter 3
I dropped my rucksack and backed away from the figure stepping out of the shadows. My heart beat a tattoo as I glanced back down the corridor, wondering if another assailant followed behind me.
Can I make a break for the stairs?
The adrenaline blasting through my system would carry me to them but the chances were still good I would trip over any one of the derelicts sleeping things off.
Would anyone even wake up if I fell over them? Would they come to my rescue if I screamed?
The stench of spilled booze and urine in the hallway filled my nostrils and I realized I couldn’t expect help. Fights and screaming happened all the time down here. I was on my own.
“Melanie!”
How does he know my name?
The voice seemed vaguely familiar. The lousy lighting obscured his face.
“Who are you?”
“I’m Charlie.”
He stepped forward to allow the one functioning light in the corridor to shine fully on him. I stared at the Eurasian man, unable to place him.
“Remember? From med school?”
At those words his face forced its way into the recollections of my drunken brain.
“Charlie Wong!”
The man smiled. He presented an older version of the Charlie I remembered. He seemed stockier, though I couldn’t be sure because of the jacket he wore.
“What the fuck are you doing creeping around my place?” I said in a stage whisper, remembering the time and the thin doors and walls.
Taking my cue, he replied in kind, “Looking for you. I learned you made port today and...”
I waved him silent and moved past him to key in the access code. The door slid open and I led him into the apartment. I keyed on the lights and made a quick inspection of the place to ensure I didn’t surprise any squatters in residence. The faint odour of something rotting in the kitchen told me whoever squatted here departed some time ago. At least they didn’t trash the place, keeping to the “rules”.
I lead Charlie into the cramped central room and cleared a tattered novelty throw pillow from the couch. He cautiously picked his way into the room, making as little contact with anything as possible. I invited him to take a seat, embarrassed about where my life brought me.
“Can I offer you anything? Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t think I...”
Charlie’s smile showed off perfect teeth. “No thanks, I don’t need anything.”
I perched self-consciously on the edge of a mismatched chair across from him and absently hugged the pillow. We sat in silence while Charlie examined my home. He made no comment, returning his gaze to me.
“Sorry, the walls are pretty thin and my neighbours don’t like it when...”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
Though we are the same age, he appeared far younger than his thirty-five years. He’d put on some serious muscle since I’d last seen him, and his face was filled out a bit. I fidgeted, ashamed for not recognizing him given the amount of time we spent together in those days.
“As I said, I came here looking for you.”
“How did you find me?”
“Oh, you didn’t make it easy, I’ll tell you that.”
I blushed and looked away.
“That should tell you something.”
The silence awkwardly hung in the air. I was making a mess of this visit but had no idea how to make it better. I didn’t deal with people in Charlie’s social class anymore.
“I don’t pretend to understand why you vanished like you did. I appreciate you have your reasons, but...”
“But what? I don’t owe you any kind of explanation for what I’ve done, where I’ve been or why.”
Now Charlie struggled to find words. I don’t think he came prepared for my defensiveness. In all honesty, I didn’t realize why I became suddenly so chippy about things. It wasn’t like I had settled into domestic bliss here. My place was essentially a flophouse for me an
d anyone else when I wasn’t here. I only held the lease.
It was strange to see him struggle like this. He always filled the awkward moments with his razor wit and quick, glib replies. I decided to take him off the hook.
“What do you want, Charlie?”
He seemed relieved by the change of subject. “I want to offer you a job.”
I dropped the pillow and pushed myself back into the chair. I stared, dumbfounded, at him. Of all the answers I anticipated, that did not even come up for consideration.
“What the fuck?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. You’re a damned fine physician.”
“Was, Charlie. That’s all ancient history.”
“Top of the class, as I recall. You even beat me, the Asian keener.” He grinned in his self-depreciating way as if still embarrassed by his intelligence. True, my marks had been better than his, but I sweated blood for those grades, mostly so as not to disappoint my benefactor. Charlie goofed off a lot and made it look as simple as eating with chopsticks.
I plodded to the kitchen. The smell of the rotten food grew stronger and gave me something else to focus on. I stood with my back to him while thoughts raced through my head. This would be so much easier if I were sober. Right now I was too emotional and couldn’t trust myself to speak without weighing every word. He hadn’t even asked why I’d left. At least, he remembered enough about me to not push that button.
“Why are you on the moon trying to hire losers? You’re supposed to be running some big hospital now, aren’t you? Wasn’t that the family plan?” I was ashamed for being a bitch. I kept my back to him. It was easier.
He sighed heavily. “I did the whole follow-the-family-plan thing, Mel. It wasn’t for me. Truth is, I haven’t practiced medicine for years. I’m a businessman now.”
I waited for him to grin with that ‘gotcha’ glint in his eye. His face was deadpan serious. “Your daddy must be some pissed off with you. Did he cut you off?”
“Pop’s been dead for five years.”
Charlie’s eyes betrayed no deceit. I could always tell, though why anyone would lie about such a thing was just weird to consider. It must have been the booze or something and I felt like the lowest form of life for entertaining the idea.
“I’m so sorry.”
Charlie waved away my apology.
“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known.”
“What happened?”
“It was a freak accident. His private shuttle broke up on re-entry on a return trip from Luna.”
I sat on the couch beside him and placed a hand on his knee. “I remember how much you admired him.”
“After Pop died, I just couldn’t find it in me to continue on in medicine. I took some time off and travelled; just tried to figure out my life, you know? When I got back home, some associates of his approached me with an offer that was hard to ignore. I work for Rego Corporation now, Mel. I succeeded Pop as Director of Acquisitions.”
“Wow, that’s quite the change. As long as I knew you, you despised your Dad’s employers.”
“Chalk that up to wide-eyed youthful naivety and idealism. I thought going into med school would put me as far away from Pop’s world as I could get. It wasn’t until he died that I understood I was doing it all to get his attention. After that, I had no way to make up for the hurt I’d caused...”
I took Charlie’s hand and we sat in silence. A muffled alarm clock went off next door. Neither of us spoke until the spell was broken by somebody shutting it off.
“I’m sorry I reacted the way I did. What job are you talking about?”
Charlie smiled broadly.
“We are putting together an exciting recovery expedition. An amazing discovery has been made on Titan. Initial reports suggest it might have alien origins. We want to send a team in an outfitted ship to recover the artifact before our competitors can beat us to it. I had the entire group assembled, but then our physician backed out and I needed to replace him in a hurry. Your name came up and imagine my surprise when I realized you were the same Melanie Destin I went to school with.”
“I’m confused. How would my name have come up?”
“I forgot to mention that we are launching from a base on Luna. Believe it or not, there aren’t too many doctors with space-faring experience around here who are competent. You are well regarded by my sources. When I heard it was you, I had to find you and ask you to join.”
“I...I’m flattered, Charlie. Really. Especially after all this time. But I don’t think I am the person you want.”
“What are you talking about? We both know how good you are. Before you left Terra you were on the fast track. And you loved it too.”
“That was before the attack.”
Compassion crossed his face. “You lost a lot. I never got a chance to say how sorry I was about Carlos.”
I waved his comments away and fought to keep the tears from flowing. Seeing my distress, he changed the topic.
“You can’t be getting much of a challenge patching up spacers on freighter runs. I definitely know you aren’t paid what you are worth. Think about it Mel. One expedition and we can pay you enough to get you out of here.” He gestured to the apartment.
I’d felt like a ping pong ball in a tornado since Charlie’s arrival on my doorstep, but that comment hit me like a kick in the guts.
“What the hell do you think is wrong with my life? You think I want your money? That I’m not happy here?”
“Mel, I didn’t...”
“Maybe I choose to be here! Maybe I’m right where I belong! I didn’t ask you to find me and I don’t need or want to be rescued from my pathetic life, and you sure as hell aren’t my fairy god-mother”
“I’m sorry. I simply meant...”
“You meant for me to feel ashamed of my life because I didn’t live up to your expectations.”
“Mel, I didn’t mean to imply any disrespect...”
“You didn’t mean to show disdain either, but I saw you gingerly pick your way across my floor. I noticed you look carefully at the couch before you sat. What’s wrong? Are you afraid you might catch something?”
I stormed to the door.
“I think you need to go now.”
He slowly walked to the open door. The sound of crying children and arguing parents echoed down the corridor.
“I didn’t mean to ...”
“Please leave, Charlie. Pretend you never found me.”
Regret written on his face, he stepped outside and the door shut behind him.
I stared at the door for a full minute before a tear ran down my cheek. I stumbled into the bedroom, fell onto the bed and cried myself to sleep.
Chapter 4
“I was told you had everything under control.”
Few people could intimidate him. Regis Mundi was one of those few. The head of the Corpus Rego, or Dominus, as he preferred to be called, did not take the news of failure well. Nearly eighty years old, he wore a toga palmata, richly embroidered and decorated with a palm leaf pattern along the hem. He sat straight-backed with the posture of a man half his age on a replica of a sella curulis. The low dais it rested on at the end of the large audience chamber gave Mundi enough of a presence to make people uncomfortable. Agent 324 understood that discomfort led to unintended disclosures, and he planned to avoid any such mistake.
At Mundi’s side hovered his personal servant, Felix Altius. While his appearance was that of a slight, effeminate man of indeterminate Mediterranean ancestry, his true origins were much more exotic. A synthetic human, grown in a vat somewhere in the vast complex, he appeared perfectly at home in the ankle long tunica his Dominus required him to wear. Agent 324 afforded the freak only a cursory inspection, preferring to maintain all of his attention on Mundi. He could ill afford any distraction and he admonished himself for giving any thought to the servant.
Despite Mundi’s affectations to the forms of imperial Rome, falling on one’s sword for defeat had yet to become a cus
tom. Not that he would have done so in any case. He prided himself on being a survivor, and from his perspective, the project was far from a failure.
“Our agent met an unexpected end and could not complete his mission, Dominus.” He addressed Mundi with eyes lowered, as expected of him. Though he spoke impeccable latin, he felt insecure about delivering such a critical report in the dead language; another measure designed to keep people off balance. He ignored the itch of the simple wool tunic he was compelled to put on before entering the chamber, annoyed that a man of his position within the corpus needed to participate in Mundi’s historical fancy.
“We believe he succeeded in directing the ship to the predetermined landing coordinates before he died.”
“You believe?” Mundi raised one bushy eyebrow. “Then why haven’t you retrieved it?”
“Someone aboard the Helios managed to get a distress signal out. The entire inner system is swarming with Terran military.”
“All the more reason to expedite the recovery, is it not? It would be a shame to waste all the resources entrusted to you for this project if the Terrans locate their missing ship first.”
“They are looking in the wrong places, Dominus. We made sure of that.”
“Yes, and fortunately for you, I have been assured they will continue to do so for the time being. Still, it is only a matter of time before even those fools think to search the planet. Even my influence cannot defer that forever. Tell me of your current plan.”
If the Dominus wanted to intimidate him, he failed. He was well aware Mundi’s operatives lurked everywhere within all of the planetary governments. Some of them were also his own double agents. He played a dangerous game, but history proved this as the only way to keep one’s head when dealing with Regis Mundi. That much the mistakes of his predecessor taught him.
Lucius Antonius was the nom de guerre of Agent 197. He’d settled on it as his final assumed identity, convinced the necessity of masquerading as anyone else firmly in his past. The fact he chose a latin name to impress Mundi did not prevent his termination. Mundi never received failure well.