by S. H. Jucha
“You’re a bender,” Jessie accused.
“A what?” Aurelia replied, alarmed at the reaction she’d provoked.
“A sensitive, an empath,” Jessie clarified.
“Yes.”
“But you can’t be, or the story that’s circulating about you is wrong. They say you were downside in the governor’s household, is that true?”
“It’s true.”
Jessie couldn’t believe his predicament. The one possibility no one would have considered was that the fugitive was an empath, who should never have been downside, much less working in the governor’s household. Captain Corbin Rose, his mentor, had warned him about times like this when he said, “Stick to mining, kid. Space is safer than politics.” Unfortunately, politics had knocked at his hatch, and, truth be told, Jessie, like most captains, had no love for Governor Andropov.
“Sit down, Aurelia,” Jessie requested politely, intensely aware of the powers Aurelia possessed. “I need to hear your story. Start with when you first went downside, and, please, no more mind thing,” he added, pointing to Aurelia’s head, then his.
“No more mind thing, Captain, I promise,” Aurelia replied, smiling shyly. She was relieved to have the chance to explain. Toby was right to admire Captain Cinders. She could feel his concern, and it gave her hope.
“I’ve never been out of the domes, Captain, until today. I was born in Governor Markos Andropov’s house, as was my sister, Sasha. My mother is Helena Garmenti. The governor and one of his security people, Giorgio Sestos, kidnapped my mother from the station when she was seventeen.”
“I remember the story of your mother’s disappearance. Are you saying she was an empath who was never identified?”
“Her powers are minimal, Captain. Even she didn’t recognize her capabilities, but they were enough to offer the governor solace when he was grieving over the loss of his wife and brother-in-law.”
“Your influence nearly overwhelmed me, Aurelia, and you weren’t touching me. Is that what happened when you said you pushed Dimitri?” Jessie asked, tapping his temple.
“Yes, Captain.”
“Let’s deal with the conversation about your family later. How and why did Dimitri end up dead?”
Jessie leaned back in a chair at his small meeting table and Aurelia sat at his desk, while she told the story of her time with Dimitri. Remembering the details of her abuse sickened her, but she chose not to hide them. She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t see the captain’s face as he listened to her tale, but she couldn’t stop the tears that streamed down her cheeks. When she ended with the sight of Dimitri’s blood splattered on the patio, she stopped. She felt a small towel pressed into her hands.
“There’s a head there,” Jessie said, indicating the doorway. “A bathroom,” he added, when he saw Aurelia’s confusion. While the girl was washing her face, Jessie ran to the bridge to check on the external arm cam. He didn’t have a plan, but he needed to know if he still had time to execute one. He didn’t. Lieutenant Devon Higgins of JOS security was exiting gate 1, accompanied by several subordinates. They were searching every ship on the arm. Jessie did some fast, mental calculations and figured he had about an hour or a little more to either come up with a plan or turn the girl over to security.
Jessie made his decision quickly and ran back to his cabin, yelling, “Aurelia, strip out of those coveralls. I need to hide you now. Station security is headed this way. They’re searching the ships.”
The key to hiding the girl was to beat the DNA sniffers, and Jessie thought hard on how to do it. When the answer occurred to him, he could have smacked himself in the head. It was simple. Jessie bolted down one of the ship’s central hub corridors to a storage room where the vac suits were kept. He considered Aurelia’s size and grabbed the vac suit of his navigator, Jeremy Kinsman, a slender, young man, not much older than Aurelia. He slung the suit’s backpack over his shoulder and grabbed the accessory bag and helmet. Towing the vac suit behind him, he hurried back to his cabin.
Vac suit fabrics had improved greatly, and increased demand meant lower prices. Now, each spacer could afford to order one or two custom-fitted suits. The number of items a spacer wore was reduced to four — suit, helmet, gloves, and backpack.
Aurelia did as the captain requested, and she stood in the center of his cabin, her coveralls slipped through the arm of the desk chair to prevent them from floating free. She still wore her shoes to keep her feet anchored to the deck. With determination, she kept her hands at her side. It was the way Dimitri had requested she stand.
Jessie slung the backpack ahead of him through the cabin’s doorway and staggered to a halt. “No skins?” he asked. When Aurelia shook her auburn curls, he said, “You truly are a downsider.” Then he stuffed the helmet, accessory bag, backpack, and vac suit under his meeting table and ran to Jeremy’s cabin.
Jeremy was a recent hire from the station’s spacer training program. He graduated top of his class and had an extraordinary aptitude for navigation. Captain Sima Madigan’s crew did their best to recruit Jeremy to the Dauntless, plying him with drinks and stories of opportunity for coin and advancement. Unfortunately for Madigan’s crew, Jeremy was a bright boy, who did his research and spoke with other mining crews, including Jessie’s. Hearing that the Spryte was forced to put its previous navigator on station, Jeremy applied for the position and was awarded the job.
Surveying Jeremy’s cabin, Jessie was rethinking his decision about giving the boy a berth on his ship. The cabin was a mess, much as a stationer might keep his room. Dirty clothing was stuffed under the bunk, and several personal items floated free. The ill-kept cabin warranted a reprimand in the captain’s log.
A crew member could be set on station for a second disciplinary note or for a dangerous first infraction. Fire, explosions, and sudden decompression could kill an entire crew. Even if some did make the lifeboats, it would be a race between rescue and the air running out. Space was huge, and Pyrean ship traffic was still in its nascent stages.
After a quick but thorough search of the cabin, Jessie did find a spare set of skins and slip boots. A quick sniff pronounced them serviceable, and he ran to his cabin. “Quick, Aurelia, put these on,” he said, tossing the gear to her. To Jessie’s lament, Aurelia searched for the opening in the skins.
“Oh, for the love of Pyre,” Jessie groaned. He took the skins back, located the tiny tab at the rear of the neck, and activated it with a quick press. The motorized device traveled down the back of the skins, opening the suit from neck to buttocks. Jessie did the same with the tabs at the ankles and wrists before he handed the skins to Aurelia, saying, “They might be tight, but wiggle into them.”
Jessie turned his back on Aurelia, while she dressed, and he readied the vac suit on the deck.
“Ready, Captain,” Aurelia announced.
Jessie turned around, and his heart ached to see the gentle smile on Aurelia’s face. She was pleased that someone, most likely in this case a male, was treating her with kindness. At that moment, Jessie would have enjoyed dumping Dimitri over the balcony.
“Turn around,” Jessie said. He pressed the tab that now rested near the bottom of Aurelia’s spine. The little unit traveled up the neck, sealing the skins and presenting a nearly invisible seam to the naked eye. Jessie repeated the action at each of the tabs at Aurelia’s extremities to seal the legs and arms.
“I like these skins,” Aurelia said, holding out her arms and then a leg to admire the form. She was looking for a mirror when the captain interrupted her.
“There’ll be time for playing dress up later, Aurelia,” Jessie said. “Take a seat at the table, pull off the deck shoes, and replace them with these slip boots.”
Aurelia did as directed, remembering to keep one foot planted on the deck, at all times.
Smart girl … catches on fast, Jessie thought. She’d make a good spacer.
“Now, come here,” Jessie ordered. “Step into the suit.”
Aurelia pushe
d her slip-booted feet into the vac suit’s pants legs and down into the mag-boots. Then, Jessie helped her shrug the suit up in several movements until she could slip her hands into the arms.
Jessie was thinking furiously through his actions when he realized he’d missed something. Hurriedly, he grabbed Aurelia’s clothes — coveralls, cap, deck shoes, and socks — and wrapped or stuffed them around her middle. Then he sealed the suit up the front.
“Brace yourself, using the table, Aurelia. Those mag-boots aren’t active, and you’ll float away.” Then Jessie pulled the suit up to her neck and sealed it. Next, he motioned Aurelia to stand, and he strapped the backpack on. Then he added her gloves and slipped the helmet over her head, locking all three items to the suit. Finally, Jessie attached the backpack’s hoses to the suit, powered the circulation and heating systems, and turned on her control and comm system.
Tapping Aurelia’s hand to indicate she should release the table, Jessie grabbed the front of the suit via a safety ring and towed the girl behind him, as she floated off the deck. He exited the cabin, tugged the girl down the wheel’s central passageway to a spoke corridor. After entering the ship’s axis, Jessie hurried to the equipment and storage bays.
Part one of Jessie’s hurriedly assembled plan was complete. Sealing Aurelia in a vac suit, which circulated her air in a closed environment, meant none of her DNA would be found along the path he was taking her. Inside an airlock, which led to a lower bay where a load of rare metal ingots was stacked, Jessie turned around to face Aurelia and held a finger to his lips to silence her.
“Captain’s override … identify,” Jessie said.
“Captain Cinders identified,” the vac suit responded.
“Identify name,” Jessie requested.
“Frances,” the suit replied.
Of course, Jessie thought, hiding his smile. Young Jeremy keyed his vac suit to his mother’s name.
“Aurelia, any time you wish to command an operation on this suit, you look at your heads-up display and begin with that name. Now listen.”
Jessie planted Aurelia’s feet firmly on the airlock’s deck, and said, “Frances, mag-boots on.”
Suddenly, Aurelia felt her feet snap to the deck. She was still weightless, but it felt as if she was anchored in place.
“Walk for me,” Jessie requested and observed Aurelia struggle to move her feet. “Frances, decrease mag-boot strength by thirty-five percent.”
After the suit confirmed the change, Jessie twirled his hand in a circle, and Aurelia dutifully took a few tentative steps and smiled through her faceplate at Jessie.
“Frances, check suit integrity, systems, and air tanks,” Jessie ordered. These items were available in the helmet’s heads-up display, but it was too much information to expect Aurelia to absorb.
“Suit integrity at one hundred percent, all systems on line and functional, and air tanks at full capacity,” Frances replied.
“Aurelia, I don’t have time to hide you. You have to do this yourself. I’m going to cycle you through this airlock. After you enter the bay, go to the rear bulkhead … to the right … you’ll see an equipment locker. Hide in there. You’ll have to pull the door shut from the inside and remember to turn off your helmet lights. You can’t have any light streaming out through the slots. These tanks have air for hours. As soon as I get station security off the ship, I’ll come back and get you out. Do you understand?”
Jessie received a tentative nod from Aurelia. “Okay, now order your helmet lights on.”
“Frances, lights, if you please,” Aurelia said in a firm voice, as she focused on the glowing numbers in her helmet, which she hoped was her heads-up display.
Probably the first time this vac suit has ever been addressed so politely, Jessie thought wryly.
Jessie stepped out of the airlock and cycled Aurelia through into the bay. He watched via the viewplate long enough to see her turn right and work her way through the stacks of ingots. Then he raced through the ship’s axis and wound his way around to the captain’s chair on the bridge.
Jessie needed to put the last part of his plan into action. He accessed the ship’s data log using a back-door sequence. It was illegal, but Jessie didn’t know a captain, who owned a ship, who didn’t have one.
The cam pointed down the arm and had been recording since it was placed out there. Jessie stopped the recording, erased the accumulated data, and then removed the entry log of the cam recording. When he exited the ship’s data system, there was no record of the girl entering the Spryte.
-5-
Ship Search
Lieutenant Devon Higgins, Sergeant Miguel Rodriguez, and Corporal Terrell McKenzie were assigned to search terminal arm 2 in section S. On the JOS main promenade cams, security administration spotted Aurelia and an unknown boy in a leg cast entering the arm. The boy had later returned, but the girl hadn’t.
After gaining the arm side of the ring, the lieutenant locked out the translation capsule. A notice was displayed at both the station and the arm side that the capsule was incapacitated due to a security emergency.
Of the four ships docked on the terminal arm, the first three had been searched by the security team when they made their way toward the last one. Their primary search tool was a portable sniffer operated by Corporal McKenzie.
Despite the commandant’s pronouncement to the captains that no additional information about Aurelia had been received, he’d been forwarded a DNA profile from Lise Panoy. She’d collected the information from Giorgio Sestos, who cleared it with the governor before relaying it to Lise.
“Last ship, Lieutenant,” Terrell announced. “She’s got to be aboard the Spryte.” Terrell’s heart was pounding with excitement. The thought that he would catch the great Captain Cinders harboring a fugitive, a murderer at that, thrilled him to no end.
Jessie monitored the security team’s approach, and, as they neared his ramp, he sauntered casually from the bridge toward the airlock. He covertly listened from the axis corridor and heard the security team comment about Buttons asleep at his post before he turned the corner and stepped into the airlock.
“Lieutenant,” Jessie acknowledged. “I watched your search progress down the last part of the arm. Still no luck?”
“Cut the crap, Cinders, we know the girl is aboard your ship,” Terrell snarled. He waved his sniffer as proof of his statement.
“That’s Captain Cinders to you, Terror,” Jessie replied coldly, using the nickname spacers and stationers had given the sadistic corporal.
“I’ll handle this, Corporal,” Devon Higgins said. “And you’ll show proper decorum or you can wait for us stationside.”
The thought that Terrell would miss out on the arrest was enough for him to curb his animosity.
The discussion woke Buttons, who struggled to his feet, glancing at his captain and the security team. He wondered if he was the cause of the excitement.
“Turn in, Buttons, get some rack time,” Jessie said, patting the old spacer on the shoulder. “I got this.”
Buttons would have apologized then and there to Jessie, but he had spotted Terror and wasn’t about to give the corporal the satisfaction of hearing it.
“Is your cam recording, Captain?” Devon asked, pointing a thumb down the ramp at the arm cam.
“Nope, Lieutenant. Just monitoring the people approaching the ship. That’s all.”
“That’s pretty sloppy, Captain, leaving only one man on duty and he’s asleep at that,” Miguel Rodriguez commented.
“Have to admit Buttons is getting along, but he was a faithful and longtime crew member under Captain Rose.” The mention of the man, who did more than anyone to supply the metal that built the JOS, commanded respect, and Devon and Miguel acknowledged that with tips of their heads.
“Captain, station cams show the girl, Aurelia, entering this arm,” Devon said. “She never came out, and the sniffer confirms she’s been up your gangway. Now, I’m respectfully requesting permission to come aboard
and search for her.”
“I’m not one to impede a search for a murderer, Lieutenant. You and your sergeant are welcome, but Corporal Terror does not set one foot aboard my ship,” Jessie replied, and he stared coldly at the corporal, as he spoke.
“Captain, Corporal McKenzie is my best DAD operator,” Devon said, referring to the DNA analysis device or DAD, which everyone called a sniffer.
“She’s been here, sir,” Terrell insisted, hoping the lieutenant would fight for permission to allow him to step aboard.
“Lieutenant, I don’t doubt Terror’s ability to read his sniffer. But I haven’t seen the girl, and I doubt either has my trusty watchman. However, as I said, you and your sergeant are welcome to search my ship, but it stays outside,” Jessie said firmly, pointing a finger at Terrell.
“Corporal, hand the DAD to Sergeant Rodriguez,” Devon ordered. “Captain, I’ll ask you to remain here, while we search the ship.”
“Be my guests,” Jessie replied, waving them past him.
While the lieutenant and sergeant searched the Spryte, Jessie stood in the airlock and stared through the corporal, as if he didn’t exist.
Corporal Terrell “Terror” McKenzie lived for the hunt and arrest of suspected felons. Most hadn’t committed any serious crimes, but Terror didn’t care. He loved catching them, and if they resisted arrest, so much the better.
Firearms were nonexistent throughout Pyrean society. It forced the harder felons to commit crimes with an edged or blunt weapon. It was Terror’s hope that a suspect would pull his weapon when faced with arrest. It gave the corporal an opportunity to use his shock stick — not to stun them, at least, not until they were down. Terror liked to test his skill and use the weighted stick to block the attack and immobilize the suspect by breaking a few bones.
After a particularly harrowing arrest, Terror was on such a high that he sought relief in the sex services of a coin-kitty or coin-kat. In regard to the latter group, Terror enjoyed breaking in the new talent, as he referred to them. The better establishments had banned Terror, but the less-discerning operators simply charged him a premium fee for his business. It covered the occasional med costs for the service providers.