Medusa's Touch

by Emily L Byrne

  TiCara slipped out of the booth and into one of the spacer markets in a side tunnel. The markets were outside the rows of legal shops that faced each other across the station’s main corridors and lacked their slick newness, housing themselves instead haphazardly in the old mine tunnels. She paused to let her eyes adjust to the dim light, her feet to the uneven floor.

  From the corner of her eye, she could see Downsiders and spacers look her over. Most looked away when she

  stepped into the market, her stride settling into that predatory grace that had drawn her to medusa pilots in the first place. She glared boldly back at the few who didn’t look away on their own and each one dropped their gaze.

  She focused on looking for a certain stand among the many that crept their way down the tunnel. This was one of the oldest markets, a collection of makeshift stands and rusted metal pods that had been in place almost since Kyrin was founded, peddling refurbished and obsolete parts for old ships, exotic foods, used clothes and other items that the corps didn’t care to sell themselves.

  She found what she was looking for and stopped at a stand set off to one side of the main path. She greeted the woman seated behind the rusty table with a closed fist to her right shoulder, smuggler style. The peddler ran a thick hand over her tattooed scalp, the gesture eerily reminiscent of Zig for an instant, though her system and tribal tattoos were nothing that an Ear would adopt. She tilted her scarred face up to look TiCara over for a moment, then nodded an acknowledgement, but no recognition.

  Wiring changed everything. TiCara thought about reminding her that they had met before, had hidden from station patrols together a time or two as children in the walls of a distant station, but decided against it. Instead, she spoke a phrase that made the woman stand, her eyes narrowing in appraisal. She gestured at TiCara, her fingers blindingly fast in a series of signals, and TiCara responded in kind. After they exchanged a final set of smuggler signs, the woman nodded. That was enough to gain TiCara entrance to a tent at the back of the stall.

  There, credit exchanged hands and the pilot got two small lazers from a rack under a table. The seller even threw in a couple of old Earth-style throwing knives, all rolled up in a package that looked like a ship mechanic’s kit. TiCara rested her hand on the package for a moment, trying to decide if she wanted to accept them. They weren’t against planetary law, not exactly, but seeing TiCara with new weapons might excite curiosity if anyone saw them. And she’d had quite enough of that for the here and now.

  But then, that might be as good a reason for extra weapons as any. She signed her thanks, then tucked a knife into the slots hidden inside the calf of one of her boots. The remaining one she hid in her blacksuit. Then, for the first time since she got her pilot’s chip and her medusas, she pulled up her blacksuit’s hood to cover them. The seller looked away, indicating that she had seen nothing, and TiCara left another cred chip on the table.

  She left the market to walk further into Downside, looping back through its corridors and levels on a back way to the port. No point in making it easy for the Ears if they were still following her. The twitch between her shoulders said they hadn’t given up on her yet.

  Chapter 4

  Elia couldn’t get TiCara out of her mind after she left The Haven. She tried hard to forget the look in TiCara’s eyes when she saw Zig, tried instead to imagine how she would spend the shiny credits that Zig would pay her for the tell she was going to give him. Her last payment hadn’t lasted as long as she thought it would. Nothing ever did.

  She snorted softly. VR cost creds, room cost creds, nutrients cost creds. If she had still been taking Eternayouth, she’d have had to roll spacers at the bars to stay in creds. Or find a piloting gig and try to forget what it had been like to fly with medusas. DreamZone was cheaper and made her feel good, even better than Eternayouth had. Especially now that she had a regular supply. And Zig would make sure that she had her Dream, as long as she had what he wanted. She knew that.

  Or she hoped that she knew that. Zig had also said he’d cut her off if she didn’t have the tell he needed. He could be cruel and sometimes, she wondered why he was so willing to keep her supplied. But that always passed. Zig wouldn’t cut her off. He was her friend and he knew that she needed to Dream. Besides, she had tell, nova tell, just the kind he craved.

  She wondered if TiCara would ever understand that there were things more important than trust. The young pilot was such a crèche-infant in spite of all she’d seen and done. There were pleasures that you couldn’t find at the end of a medusa, needs that had to be met that weren’t all about physical sensation.

  TiCara probably hadn’t even realized how strongly she’d reacted when Electra 12 came up in the telling. She’d all but told Elia where she was going and what she feared most. Elia shook her head, letting her medusas swing idly for a moment. She could give Zig other tell, send him somewhere else. What if he wasn’t telling her tru when he said he wouldn’t hurt TiCara?

  Elia grimaced at the thought. TiCara was no longer her mentee, no longer her lover, maybe not her friend any more. But she didn’t want her to get hurt. Her feelings piled up like an asteroid belt collision, making her ache. She needed more Dream; that would help her hold them at bay, sort through them slowly and carefully until she knew which ones should be kept and which discarded.

  Her hand rose in a habitual gesture and played with her medusas for a moment her body remember a shadow of what it was like to be alive and wired. More creds from Zig and his compadres meant more Dream. Maybe even a shot at Eternayouth. If she could manage that, well, everything would be starshine. She could have living medusas that responded to her thoughts again. Then she could go back to real piloting, leave this groundy life that she never wanted behind.

  That thought made Elia smile as she entered her tiny sleep room off one of the habitation corridors. She flipped open her comm once the door sealed behind her. Zig’s face loomed up, filling the tiny screen an instant later. You got tell?

  Tru tell: believe she’s taking him to Electra 12, but no coordinates yet.

  Zig’s lips twisted in a snarl. No location, no Dream. Told you that before.

  Elia’s hand trembled on the keypad. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t mean it, I need to Dream…She inhaled sharply, I’ve got another way, something she doesn’t know about. Another inform.

  Use them, or it’s no more Dreamyzone for you. Zig smiled suddenly and in a rare moment of full clarity, she realized how much he’d enjoy her withdrawal. He’d probably enjoy her overdose even more.

  Elia shuddered as he clicked off. She closed her eyes, tried to imagine a life free of Zig. A life without DreamZone. Her body shuddered, each nerve ending sparking on its own in a mixture of dread and anticipation. She could be who TiCara thought she was. Or she could be...this.

  There had to be a third way, something else she could do, but her head was too cloudy to think about it right now. A small pain shot its way up her arm and she put down the comm, tried to still the trembling in her hand. It would only get worse if she had to go through withdrawal, had to give up Dream completely. Options would have to wait. She needed to Dream so she could think and plan. Maybe Zig’s corp would pay her for tell about what he was doing. Something told her that what he wanted to know was not authorized.

  More pain, this one sharper, longer lasting. With a sob, she keyed a message into her comm, and after a moment spent staring at nothing, hit the send option.

  Chapter 5

  TiCara gave a huge sigh of relief once she reached the Astra. As she’d hoped, Erol was waiting for her, along with her crew, Ji-min and Vijay, and the ship seemed as ready to go as her Second had assured her that it would be. But anxiety was still driving her and she insisted on being shown all the preparations and supplies.

  Normally, she had enough confidence in Erol that she didn’t inspect the crew’s work very thoroughly. He had proven himself already and her crewmembers were seasoned. But this trip was different, especially now
: she had to be certain about everything. She told herself that it was the novelty of carrying rich passengers, the pressure to make everything perfect to impress Vahn.

  For the next two machrons, she was all over the ship, inside and out. She checked the logs and verified the fuel stores when Ji-min was done with Engineering. Then she confirmed that the food, air and water supplies were adequate as Vijay prepped the ship’s tiny greenbay with its plants and algae tanks.

  Vijay was stoic about the additional supervision, answering her barrage of questions as he set the filters. In contrast, Ji-min was antsy, fidgeting, under her surveillance, even dropping an engine part that then had to be replaced from storage. TiCara met their anguished stare over the cracked casing and bit back an angry speech with a shaky breath.

  This wasn’t her; she was a better Captain than this, especially when she knew how badly Ji-min had been treated on their previous ship. She threw up her hands in a gesture of surrender and sucked in a deep breath. It’s all right, it’s not you. Passengers, rich ones, got my nerves on the lazer’s edge. And then there’s Zig, though she left that part unspoken. She made an apologetic gesture over her heart, one that Ji-min would recognize from their home system.

  Ji-min saluted and stood stiffly at military corp attention, something they hadn’t done since their first couple of cycles on the Astra. Their face went completely blank and even their short-cropped black hair appeared to be standing rigidly on end, like medusas at attention. TiCara sighed and acknowledged the salute. Permission to replace the part, Captain? The engineer’s voice was deep, their words clipped.

  TiCara knew from experience that they could maintain this for machrons or more, once they settled into it. The corps trained their military engineers thoroughly, more than the medusa pilots themselves, and much of that training was harsh, even cruel. She took the hint and departed, with a muttered curse at her own carelessness in triggering her Engineer’s anxiety, leaving Ji-min to find the replacement part in inventory.

  As TiCara climbed the ladder to the tiny Bridge, Erol appeared at her heels. She climbed up and turned to face him as he finished climbing the ladder. Don’t you have preparations to make, Second? The edge in her voice made her wince. She was doing this all wrong. Stupid job. Stupid Ears. Stupid Elia for thinking corp spies could ever be anyone’s friends.

  Something you’d like to tell me about this trip, Captain? You’ve been on a comet tail since your first comm message. Erol towered over her, his dark-skinned and carefully shaved skull glowing a little under the Bridge lights. He seldom frowned, but this must be a special occasion, since TiCara realized he was glowering at her. And why shouldn’t he? This job was his risk too, and she was second-guessing his responsibilities and alienating the crew.

  That realization was enough to make her feel contrite, though not enough to give him tru tell. Not yet. After all, a shadow trade job was a shadow trade job, and as long as the creds were good, why wouldn’t her Second trust her to set the terms as she saw fit? These passengers, we need to impress them. Everything needs to be as close to diamond as we’ve got, no blackholes. Lot of creds at stake on this job. That’s all. TiCara felt her medusas swarm around her head and neck like bees, not sure which impulse to react to and she forced them down and flat with an angry thought. We do this, could be galaxy time after, maybe even leave the corp jobs behind. If we do right.

  Erol gave her a cynical look. One of them passengers female, Captain? His eyelids drooped and his full lips twisted in an amused, knowing look as TiCara realized that she was more predictable than she realized. At least he had nothing to be jealous about. Ji-min and Vijay were casual lovers, but she had never been hot for any of her crew or they for her. Bad for discipline if things went sideways, a distraction if things were nova; that had been what Elia always said about shipboard romance.

  And TiCara had always agreed with her. But a passenger isn’t the same as crew. She nearly rolled her eyes at the

  direction her thoughts were taking. She knew better than this. Her hormones couldn’t pilot this ship and she needed to remember that.

  TiCara gave an elaborate shrug. Maybe. Erol smirked and nodded, perhaps thinking of his own primary partner, Arnelle, back on Kraybourne, one of the planets on their usual run. "We got us a sekrit mission, Second, corp rep and all. Tru tell. Best go get the clean bots to sparkle the rooms up so the Astra looks diamond." She gave a self-mocking, dismissive wave to send him back down the ladder, and he went, laughing.

  She watched him go, thinking about how hard it had been to trust him with her ship, her livelihood, at first. After all that she’d had sacrificed to pay for it, letting anyone else in had been very difficult. After all, everything she had gained could be so easily destroyed. One wrong step and she could lose it.

  But, then, Erol had worked hard to win her trust as well; she had to give him credit for that. Saving her life on one of the outer systems two cycles back certainly hadn’t hurt. Yet, she still wouldn’t tell him who Vahn really was and where he was paying them to go. Not yet, not until they were out of port comm range. If the Ears could get to Elia, who knew how close they could get to others she trusted?

  She grimaced at the direction her thoughts were moving and made an effort to shake them off. After this job, she wouldn’t need to worry about Zig or losing the ship over debts. Vahn’s credits would bring her more security, not less. She wouldn’t accept any other outcome.

  She stayed on the Bridge, watching the port through the windows, sensors and cameras while she did the ship’s engine final prep. Not that there was much to see, apart from the usual activity of a big spaceport: spacer and groundy crews on the walkways, loaders working on new ships when they docked, all in a whirl of motion. It was almost impossible to pinpoint any single face in the shifting crowd.

  She had decided to stop watching when she saw an Ear pass the Astra’s berth on a nearby walkway, bound for another dock. Her stomach twisted and she caught herself reaching for her lazer. With an effort, she drew her hand back. Maybe it was Zig, maybe it was some other Ear. Either way, she couldn’t stop them from walking past her ship in spaceport dock. Much as she wanted to.

  This particular Ear didn’t look at or approach the Astra and she stopped shivering once he was out of sight. She started to go and look for him through one of the other outside cameras and caught herself…if she kept living in the past like this, she was going to be a bigger danger to herself and her crew than all the Ears in port. Being alert was useful, being paranoid was a mind-killer, one of her teachers on Aliandra said, more than once.

  But her fears weren’t hers to control, not today. What if it was more than a coincidence? What business did any Ear have down here? Maybe she should try and look Zig up, find out who he was working for now. Even an Ear had to have some kind of Net profile, unless ze was completely underground. But if Zig was tracking her or Vahn for one of the corps, searching for him on the Nets might attract unwanted attention. He probably had her search profiles flagged by now.

  She swore softly. That ruled out the easiest way to find out background information on him, apart from asking a trusted source. She wasn’t even tempted to message Elia now. Not if her old mentor claimed him as a friend. The way Zig looked at Elia at The Haven was anything but friendly, but she hadn’t seemed to notice. But perhaps that had been a performance for TiCara’s benefit.

  Her thoughts spun round like her head was in lowgrav until her whispered curses escalated fluently into several different spacer tongues. She made herself go outside for another quick inspection, checking the outside shell for trackers or anything else that might tell someone where they were going. This search was as fruitless as the last one, but it calmed her enough to finish the fuel checks and other necessary tasks.

  When Sherin, Vahn and Sammo, Vahn’s bondarmin, came on board a short time later, she was ready for them. Even if her stomach did a leisurely flip or two when she saw Sherin again. The Astra had a new pulse cannon and considerably more cushi
ons than it had had on its last trip, as well as more different kinds of prepped cuisine than normal. Not to mention additional personal arms and a full medical treatment kit. She just hoped it would be enough.

  Vahn got the best quarters on the ship, TiCara’s own, as she pointed out as cheerfully as she could when she escorted him through the ship. He looked around at her room, relentless grays, blues and beiges of the ship’s walls and ceiling broken by the splash of color from two brightly colored wall hangings. They had come from one of the Miyazaki system worlds, her first purchase to celebrate completing her corp indenture. Vahn’s gaze rested appreciatively on them each in turn, giving her a small rush of pleasure.

  She gave a quick glance around, verifying what she already knew. Her vids and clothes were all packed away and the hangings and the little dancing goddess on a high shelf were the only sign that anyone else normally bunked there. Nothing to tell anyone more about her than she wanted them to know.

  He turned to her with a contented smile, This is perfect, Captain. We will endeavor to stay out of your way. A single regal gesture to Sammo brought the latter across the threshold with an inflatable backrest in his large hands.

  TiCara felt the walls close in as the big man filled more of the available space than seemed possible and she backed toward the doorway with a courteous bow. Anything you need, Ser, my and I crew will do our best to provide.

  Anything, Captain? Vahn shook his head as he sat down on her bed. Such a rash promise. But we shall see. Thank you.

  TiCara could see a ghost of a smile on his face as he lay down and smiled to herself as she left. She had a few other rash promises that she wanted to cash in on, too. The memory of Sherin’s lips parted in a gasp in the corridor of Vahn Corp sent a pleasant warm wave of desire through her. But they needed to get away from Kyrin before she made any move.