Starship Repo

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Starship Repo Page 3

by Patrick S. Tomlinson


  First put one foot out the door, ready to run if time ran out and the alarm sounded. She dug through the apps and patches already on her deck. Nothing jumped out as useful. Nothing, that was, until she remembered a tech report she’d read two months earlier about Proteus outsourcing their security updates to the same supplier that serviced their midlevel brand to save costs. And that supplier she did have a patch for.

  Frantically, First opened the appropriate file and manually keyed in the Infinite’s serial number, dealership routing number, and SCC flight license and hit Enter. As the final seconds ticked past, First put a hand on the center counsel, poised to eject herself from the car before the door could close if her gambit didn’t work.

  As the clock counted down to two seconds, her deck’s screen turned green.

  Flight Controls Unlocked.

  First let out an exhilarated sigh and sank into the sumptuous leather beneath her.

  “I’m thinking my place, sweetheart. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” she purred at the car as the door rolled closed. First tucked her deck back into her purse and dropped it into the passenger seat, along with her hat, then took manual control of the Infinite. She loved to fly, and seeing as she’d never owned an aircar herself, the few minutes after a successful job were the only chance she ever had to indulge herself in the sensation.

  Gently, she spooled up the oversized antigrav pods on the four corners of the Proteus until it lifted from the ground. A whir-click from the floorboards confirmed the landing skids had retracted. First nudged the car into the lane between the rows of cars and inched forward. She tried to get a look at herself in passing reflections, but the Infinite’s “windows” were virtual displays and the exterior completely opaque.

  It was a dead-sexy piece of machinery. The door at the far end of the hangar recognized its approach and scrolled open. Finally in free air, First goosed the pods and sent the Proteus rocketing into the “sky.” Even pressed down in her seat under three g’s, she still managed to bring the corners of her mouth up into a riotous smile.

  “Awesome,” First said as the acceleration slammed down on her chest, forcing the words out of her in a rush of air. With some altitude beneath her, she pointed for the docks and transitioned to level flight with the same giddy exuberance.

  But all good things must come to an end. Quite suddenly, the car stopped accepting First’s manual flight inputs, then just as suddenly changed course of its own volition.

  “What the hell?” First cranked hard on the control yolk, hoping to bring the Proteus back under heel, but to no avail. Then, the doors locked, and she knew she was really in deep shit.

  “Attention unauthorized pilot,” came a genderless, synthesized voice. “You have been apprehended hijacking this vehicle. Please relax while you are delivered to the appropriate authorities.”

  “The hell I will.” First reached over into her purse, retrieved her hacking deck, and got to work. Main systems were behind a half dozen new firewalls thrown up by the car’s security system, but maybe some of the secondary systems, like the door locks …

  “Your wireless device has been recognized and permanently deleted from this vehicle’s registry of authorized users. All commands originating from it will be automatically denied. Would you like a glass of water while you wait?”

  First punched the dash in a rage.

  “Any vandalism of this property will be added to your existing charges. Would you like to listen to some music while you wait?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “You have selected ‘Pho Queue’ by the Wolverines.”

  Before she could object, what sounded like a forgotten 1980s hair metal band started singing a surprisingly catchy tune about meeting girls while waiting in line for Vietnamese.

  First tossed the deck back into the passenger seat and crossed her arms in a huff. No idea how she would get out of this one. She still had hard currency for a bribe, but that sort of thing worked a lot better out on the street, not so much once you were inside the station. Story. She needed a story that would explain how she “accidentally” found herself in the car. She’d need to wipe the deck and all of the expensive patches and software she’d collected and find a place to dump the physical lock-picking tools in her purse, but …

  Something was wrong—namely, their heading.

  “Infinite, where are you taking me?”

  “To the proper authorities.”

  “But we’re heading away from the security station.”

  “There are other authorities on Junktion besides the police.” The car’s flat monotone took on an ominous edge that sent a dozen ice cubes sliding down First’s spine like they were racing for her ass crack.

  “I’m not speaking to this car’s VI, am I?”

  “Very perceptive, young human. Relax; it’s a short flight to my residence.”

  “It’s not the flight I’m worried about.”

  “I assure you, you will not be physically harmed. Unless you decide to become violent, of course. Now, legal jeopardy, that’s a matter to discuss when you arrive. I’m cutting this link. See you shortly.”

  The voice went dead, followed by the virtual windows and windshield. First couldn’t see a thing outside the cabin. Panicked, she slapped a hand against the screen, sending a small rainbow ripple of color through the thin OLCD display.

  “Calm!” First demanded of herself. Through a force of will, she steadied her ragged breathing. Her racing pulse soon followed suit. Having gotten a grip on herself, First next got a grip on a weapon. Among her tools was a three-sided, spring-loaded metal probing tool that would punch through a skull as easily as a lock tumbler. A one-shot affair, but better than nothing.

  Provided her mystery host had a skull …

  The car shuddered just a little as something captured it. The landing skids hadn’t deployed, so she was still in the air, probably in a docking cradle next to a balcony on one of the residential towers, which made sense; anyone who afforded a Proteus probably pulled penthouse paychecks.

  The driver’s door unlocked, and the panel rolled back to reveal a well-lit patio covered in decorative trees and expensive furniture. Reclining in a lawn chair turned away from her, an alien in a bathrobe sat looking at a handheld while drinking from what looked like a short martini glass.

  “Welcome, young lady. So you’re aware, all exits to this patio are quite thoroughly locked. Please, have a seat.”

  First grabbed her purse and slowly lifted herself out of the car and onto the patio, forgetting her hat. Once out, she got a sense of just how high she was. They were surrounded by a cluster of residential towers, each at least a hundred stories tall, and she was very near the top of this one.

  First took a hesitant step back from the car as the door rolled shut again.

  “That probe you palmed before getting out has to go over the side, I’m afraid,” the still-unidentified alien said calmly but firmly, then held up his handheld, showing a replay video catching her in the act. “You didn’t really think the cabin was unmonitored, did you?”

  First looked at the probe in her hand and smirked before pitching it over the side of the patio. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. Somebody might get hurt when that thing reaches ground level, you know.”

  “There are awnings. Come here, let me have a look at you.”

  “I’m telling you right now, if this is some sort of xeno-fetish sex thing, I’d sooner march down to the security station and turn myself in.”

  “Is that a common proposition?”

  “Common enough when you’re the only one of something in a place like this,” First said as she came around to face her host. “Some weirdos like to check off species like they’re … playing … bingo…”

  The alien was roughly humanoid in body layout—torso, two backward-bending legs, two big and two little arms, a head, and a plump, stubby tail that looked better suited to storing fat than correcting balance. After that, things got weird. They didn’t have an
y skin, for one thing, and the various exposed pieces seemed to be held together by nothing more than collective agreement.

  “What are you?” First asked, trying hard to promote the morbid curiosity she felt over the fear.

  “My dear, I’m a Nelihexu. One of the six Assembly Council races. Much like your Grenic roommate, Quarried Themselves, isn’t it?”

  “How do you—”

  “We know a great deal about you, except, oddly enough, your name.”

  “First. You?”

  “All right. My name is Loritt Chessel, at your service. And you?”

  “I just told you.”

  “You did?”

  First sighed and retrieved her ID card from her purse, then held it out to Loritt. “Here, before we get stuck in a loop.”

  Loritt took the card and read it aloud. “Firstname Lastname?”

  “It was a data-entry error at the refugee processing center. They’ll fix it any day now.”

  “Well, it’s not entirely inappropriate. After all, you’re the first—”

  “Finish that sentence and I’ll take my chances with the awnings.”

  “I see.” Loritt waved a hand at a nearby chair. “Please, sit. Would you like anything to drink?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Very well. Let’s get started, then, First. Why did you steal my Proteus?”

  First sat but did not put her feet up. “Needed the money.”

  Loritt shook his head. “That is a reason to steal an aircar. There were a hundred others in that hangar, every one of them with inferior security systems to a Proteus. I asked why you stole my car.”

  “I needed a lot of money.”

  “Another evasion. Your deck acquired a peephole virus from a programmer on my payroll two days ago. I know how much you spent on patches just to try to break into my car. You could have stolen a less expensive model and made nearly the same money for a tenth of the risk. One more time: Why mine?”

  First smirked, unable to hide how impressed she was. “Fine, two reasons. First, I like a challenge. And second, screw you.”

  Loritt leaned forward ever so slightly. “I thought that option was already off the table?”

  “I mean screw you and your … your lifestyle. Up here in your ivory tower while people three hundred meters below you starve. Sure, I could boost some shitbox and flip it for a nice little score, but that’s how somebody gets to work. That’s how they feed their kids. They’re probably out for the one ‘fancy’ dinner a cycle they allow themselves, because that’s what they can afford. Take their car and I ruin their whole year, maybe their life.

  “But you, take your car and you pull the other one out of your private hangar. Or go buy another one with the insurance payout tomorrow. Probably just have it sent over. Probably doesn’t even take five minutes out of your day while you sit here drinking on your patio looking down on all the thousands and millions of beings beneath you. So yeah, screw you. Now I have a question.”

  Loritt smiled, or some of the muscles of his face contorted in such a way that at least conveyed the intention of a smile. “That’s a little unorthodox, considering our relative circumstances, but what the hell? Ask your question, young lady.”

  “The Lividite, at the first restaurant I cased tonight. You sent him to steer me to Horloth’s.” Loritt gave a small bow. “Your car was bait. You wanted it to stand out like a jewel among rocks so that I, personally, would be tempted to boost it. So my question should be obvious.”

  “Because I needed to know if you could before asking why you would. And you could’ve, incidentally. If that had belonged to someone who hadn’t seen you coming, you’d be turning it over to your buyer right now. Within a larim, it’d be packed up in a shipping container under a falsified manifest entry, awaiting loading onto a bulk freighter heading for the core worlds. Very impressive.”

  “You seem to know a lot about jacking aircars for a pampered 1 percenter.”

  “My dear, I was not always a pampered … ‘1 percenter,’ was it?”

  “So what’s this, outreach? You gonna tell me your inspirational rags-to-Richie-Rich story and implore me to abandon my wicked ways?”

  “Why would I do that? You’d be of no use at all.”

  First’s growing train of indignation jumped the tracks and skidded to a stop in the gravel.

  “What is this?” she managed. “A job interview?”

  “An opportunity. Come inside and work for me, or climb back in my Proteus so it can deliver you to the proper authorities along with a complete audio/video/data-stream log of yourself in the act of stealing it. Those are, alas, your only options, unless you fancy your odds of evolving wings before you starve out here on my patio. Take your time, but not too much. Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?”

  First crossed her arms. “I’m not old enough to drink.”

  “Humans don’t drink liquids until a later life stage? How peculiar.” Loritt stood from his chair without saying another word, then walked straight through the glass of the patio window, leaving scarcely a ripple in his wake. Then, every window went from transparent to mirrored, leaving First staring at herself.

  “Hell of a trick.”

  CHAPTER 4

  “How long’s she been out there?” Jrill asked, standing near the window overlooking Loritt’s patio like a zoo patron observing a new exhibit.

  “Since just after dinner.”

  “That was yesterday.”

  “Yes.” Loritt paused. “I think she may have fallen asleep, but it’s been an absurdly long time. Do you think we should send for a doctor?”

  “That’s normal for them, apparently.”

  “Who told you that?”

  Jrill nodded at the recumbent human on the sunchair. “She did.”

  “You spied on her?”

  “I wanted to form my own impression.”

  Loritt perked up from his breakfast of live klu beetles and a light salad. “Which was?”

  “The only part of her faster than her fingers is her mouth. Bold, talented, but overconfident.”

  “So, in short, an adolescent of any species.”

  The sound of Turemok laughter was … an acquired taste. Like learning to love the sound of jagged metal scraped over glass. Thankfully, it was short-lived. “Perhaps. We’ll know shortly.”

  “Only if she agrees to join our little band of barely reformed bandits,” Loritt chided, chasing down a runaway beetle with his fork.

  “I think she just did,” Jrill answered.

  Loritt looked up from his salad to inquire and was shocked to see Firstname standing bolt upright, pressing a hand against the edges of the glass, probing it. Testing her cage.

  “Said she was fast,” Jrill quipped.

  “So you did.” Loritt picked up his handheld and logged in to the penthouse’s systems. “Does this mean you’ve made a choice, young lady?” his voice boomed over the patio speakers. To her credit, Firstname didn’t jump, merely paused her inspection with both of her hands held against the glass.

  “Looks that way.”

  “Excellent.” Loritt pressed an icon, and the crystalline structure of the window phase-shifted from solid to semiliquid. Unprepared, Firstname fell through the pane and barely caught herself before hitting the floor.

  “Ow,” she said, still facedown in the carpet. After a moment, she pushed herself up onto her hands and took stock of her surroundings. Less than a heartbeat later, she locked eyes with Jrill, and Loritt recognized he was about to have to play moderator.

  “You!” Firstname spat at the Turemok from under a tousled mass of hair.

  “Me,” Jrill answered. “It’s tomorrow, little human. You’ve had your beauty rest. Not that it shows.”

  “Get your own lines, shitbird. Want to step back on the patio and see if you can fly?”

  Jrill looked at Loritt. “I told you she was overconfident.”

  Loritt recognized a budding personnel resources issue when he saw one and d
ecided to nip it.

  “Ladies, whatever this is will have to wait until you’re both off the clock. Firstname—”

  “First. Just call me First.”

  “First. Now that you are under my employ, I will thank you not to interrupt me midsentence,” Loritt said evenly. First visibly swallowed a snappy retort. “Thank you. Let me introduce you to your new teammate, Jrill, formerly a Lika-Vel of our grand Turemok military.”

  “Formerly,” First repeated flatly, neither quizzical nor taunting.

  “I’m retired,” Jrill replied. “Prematurely.”

  “Your choice?”

  “Not precisely.”

  “At least you lived through it. Not like those assholes we vaporized in Earth orbit while they tried to sucker punch my entire species into extinction.”

  “Enough!” Loritt snapped, growing impatient. “Jrill was not involved in the decision to attack your home world. The Turemok who were are now all dead, either by the hands of your people or ours. That will be the last I hear about it. I will not tolerate racism in our ranks. If you can’t accept that, I’ll wash my hands of you, and you can march right off into the aircar outside.”

  Jrill chuckled behind him, and Loritt turned on her in a flash. “You’re included in that, Jrill. Not another word. You came to me and asked for more help. There she is.” Loritt pointed at First, fists still balled up and spoiling for a fight.

  Unsurprisingly, this did not defuse the standoff, but at least it became a quiet one.

  “Great, let’s continue. First, you are the newest recruit to my little family of kindhearted thieves and miscreants. Now that you’ve accepted the job, it’s only fair to let you in on what you’ve agreed to.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “We are in the repossession business. All aboveboard, all completely legal. You will never run afoul of the law so long as you work the jobs I assign you. We reacquire assets for their rightful owners when their customers fall too far behind on payments. Usually banks, sometimes creditors whose charters are … let’s say less organized.” Loritt held up a finger. “But, on the surface, from a glance, what we do looks an awful lot like stealing other people’s stuff, and requires the same skill sets. Which is why I’ve always recruited from a more rarified employment pool than most.”

 

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