“Reasons,” said Nate. “Can you get me one?”
“Of course. But with money—”
“Coin’d get taken by the Guard. You really think we’re here because we like the smell?” Nate snorted. “Life on Ganymede is what it is. Pearl or the Guard get the coins. I’ll help you, Don Wootton. I’ll steal from Pearlescent Fang. Hell, I’ll even take the consequences. My price, aside from a ticket off the crust, is a powerchair.”
Don looked at the coin he held. “You gave this back.”
“Wasn’t mine,” said Nate.
“A coin like this could buy you some freedom, for a while,” said Don. “You could have slipped it in your pocket. Or tried, anyway.”
“Wasn’t mine,” said Nate. Not all people here are liars and thieves. “Can you get me a Personal Augment or not?”
Don nodded. “I can.”
“Great,” said Nate. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
“No thanks.” Don made as if to stand.
“Not really asking.” Nate showed teeth in an almost-smile. “Besides, we need her.”
“Who?”
“Valerie Flare,” said Nate. “Best damn slicer on Ganymede.”
Chapter One
Calling the area above the Triage Tearoom an apartment was being borderline insulting to apartments across the universe. The floors were a gene-spliced bamboo failure of warped hardwood. One cracked ceramicrete wall let light, noise, and the faint sewerage of street smells in. A small, chipped, pitted console sat on a rickety desk, the holo stage bright enough to illuminate Valerie Flare, the room’s single occupant. Nate knew her hair would be red if the blue of the holo didn’t wash it out. Her green eyes flashed in the gloom, a challenge for Don or Nate, he wasn’t sure, but her welcoming grin took the sting away. Light glinted from the rusted metal of her chair, the rubber around the wheels cracked and worn. She sat straight despite it, as if her torso were ship-forged steel, not the same stuff as the weakened flesh of her legs.
There was a doorway off the side leading to a small bathroom. Two beds, because he and Valerie were friends, nothing more. No tiny kitchen, just a place a couple souls could rest for a spell after the world had spent time sanding them down.
Nate had seen holo shows. He knew how the rich lived, some with toilets larger than their entire apartment. Nate was ready for Don’s derision. He wasn’t ready for the bloom of empathy in the rich kid’s eyes. “You live here?”
“It’s better than some have.” Nate held a hand out in Valerie’s direction. “Don, this is Valerie Flare. Best damn—”
“Slicer on this rock,” finished Valerie, wheeling her chair closer. She stuck a hand out. Don shook it. Nate was surprised. Most folks didn’t want to get too close to those with an ability mismatch, afraid they might catch something. Not Don. Just a courteous half-bow, firm shake, then he moved on. Like he lived cheek by jowl with a person in a chair on a daily basis.
Maybe he does.
Don took a turn around the apartment, six paces up and back. “I love what you’ve done with the place.”
Valerie snorted, cocking her head at Nate. “Where’d you find this one?”
“Fighting for his life against the Guard.” Nate rubbed the back of his neck. “Might need a favor.”
“Cams get the action?” Valerie turned back to her console, the holo blinking as she cleared whatever pet project she had on the go. “The Guard still haven’t closed the backdoor we’ve got into their system. Take but a minute.”
“Nate, uh, said something about coin,” said Don.
Valerie spared him a glance, a single once-over. “Net access here isn’t cheap. Air and grav are free, but you have to pay for everything else.”
Don tossed a coin on the desk next to her. It rattled as it settled. “Here.”
“This is too much,” said Valerie. “I mean, it’s nice, but it’s more than this is worth.”
“Consider it an advance.” Don made no move to retrieve the coin. “Nate’s told me we can’t do the job without you.”
“I’m not up to running anymore.” Valerie gestured to her chair. “Mean set of wheels, but there’s too many damn stairs around here.”
“More like back office support,” said Nate.
“Oh.” Valerie sniffed. “No.”
“What?” said Nate.
“No,” repeated Valerie. “I’m not staying back here while you go off and do something stupid. Last time I lost sight of you, it cost me the use of my legs.”
“That wasn’t—”
“This time,” Valerie steamed ahead like Nate hadn’t opened his mouth, “I’ll be right beside you. Where are we going?”
“Pearlescent Fang,” said Don.
“Hah.” Valerie’s smile faded as she glanced between them. “Oh. You’re not joking.”
“In and out.” Nate shone a conspiratorial smile. “No problem. Like a whisper on the wind. We’ll slip inside, bust the vault, and be gone before Pearl knows what’s up.”
“‘Bust the vault,’ right.” Valerie shook her head, red hair angry with the movement. “Because it’s that easy.”
“Hey, Valerie.” Nate put his hands on his hips. “You’re the best—”
“Don’t you, ‘Hey, Valerie,’ me.” Valerie leveled a finger at Nate. “You’re a thief and a liar, Nathan Chevell.”
“Who are you calling a thief?”
“I’m not.” Don slipped into the conversation without a bump. “I understand the price. One Interstellar Dynamics Personal Augment. And now I know why.”
Valerie looked at Nate, eyes narrowing. “I promised I’d look out for you. You’re not supposed to look after me.”
“I have a question.” Don peered out the crack in the wall.
“Not now, Don,” said Nate. “Val, it’s—”
“You know I hate being called Val.” Valerie sat up straighter in her chair. She held a hand out, finger upright. “Listen here, Nate—”
“Really,” said Don. “Just a little question.”
“Not now, Don.” Valerie turned her glare on Nate. “We’re in the middle of a thing.”
“Valerie.” Nate leaned on the extra syllables. “They’ll take our coin, but they won’t take a chair. You need it.”
“I need you to be off this rock,” said Valerie. “Your father—”
“Really,” said Don. “I insist.” Nate and Valerie turned to him. “The Guard coming here.” He jerked a thumb at the crack in the wall. “They’re right outside.”
“Hell,” said Nate and Valerie together.
Nate sighed, turned over his mattress, and retrieved a short blade. It was an ugly length of street steel, but it’d suffice. He belted the scabbard around his waist, then upended Valerie’s mattress, hefting out a stubby blaster. Nate tossed it to her, then grabbed her satchel from its hook behind the door. He turned to Don. “This way.” Nate grabbed the handles on Valerie’s chair, pushing her toward the bathroom. As Valerie passed through, she slapped a tile against the wall, the sink opposite the door grinding back to reveal a ramp.
Don did a double-take. “You have a secret exit?”
“Not if the Guard find it. Vera’s done some smuggling here and there. Sometimes it’s a handy thing to have a way out that suits a grav cart.” Nate started down the passage, leaning back against the mass of Valerie’s chair while she worked on her personal console. Blue holo light led the way. “Hit that button, will you?”
Don brought up the rear, pressing a button inside the passage. The wall slid into place behind them. “I have to know one more thing. Are you two like brother-sister, or…?”
“No,” said Nate. “But not what you’re thinking.”
“Two beds, I get it,” said Don.
“Valerie’s like an older sister.” At Valerie’s snort, he said, “I mean, not that I wouldn’t, uh, I mean I’d be honored, but—”
Don put a hand on Nate’s shoulder as they reached a bend in the passage. “Piece of advice?”
“Shoot.”
“Stop talking.” Nate caught Don’s grin in the gloom. “Why not let me take the lead? I’ll make sure the way’s clear. If they spot me, I can lead ‘em off.” Nate frowned. This rich kid’s not the usual cut. “You know the Tennessee Halls?”
“Moneyed folks rent rooms by the day, sure,” said Nate. “Can’t say I’ve been inside.”
“Meet me there if we get separated.” Don darted off, lost to the dark.
Nate and Valerie waited. She put a hand on Nate’s where he steadied her chair. “He’s … unusual.”
“He is,” agreed Nate.
“Cute, too,” she said.
“Focus,” said Nate.
“Just making an observation. Didn’t mean anything by it. Besides,” Valerie held up her console, “I am focusing. Deleting all the cam footage.”
“Right.” Nate rested his hands on the chair’s handles. “There’s something about him, though.”
“Like we’ve seen his face somewhere,” suggested Valerie.
“Yeah,” said Nate. “Or like we were at the same bar.”
“Have you been drinking again?”
“Of course not. It’s … I know him.” Nate wanted his brain to come up with an answer, but as he flipped through his mental contacts on Ganymede, be they street or powerful, he came up empty.
“Harlow would know.”
“We’re not bringing Harlow into this,” hissed Nate. “He’s borderline incompetent. Can’t shoot straight or use a blade. Not to mention, he’s terrible at holding his liquor.”
“Harlow knows everyone,” said Valerie. “Don is so familiar.”
There was a scamper of boots, and Don came into the dim light of Valerie’s holo. “We’re clear.”
“On all fronts.” Valerie slipped her personal console into her satchel. “The Guard will have nothing to charge us with now. Or, charge you with. I wasn’t even there.”
“Let’s get on,” suggested Nate. “Pearl’s vault won’t rob itself. Besides, I’ve got an idea. It’ll solve a whole bunch of problems.”
“I’m not on board yet,” said Don. “I’d like a few more details.”
“You’ll only worry,” said Nate. “Out of curiosity, how fast can you run?”
Chapter Two
Nate leaned against a ceramicrete wall, peering at the office facility Don identified. Blank frontage. No signs. Tinted windows, which were unusual under Cadence’s gentle faux sun. Out the front, cams watched the street, as did Pearl’s man Darin, looking recovered from the day’s earlier encounter. The thug was alternating between looking bored and leering at people who passed too close. “Darin’s out front. He looks fine. We might be able to pull this off.”
“Nate stunned him,” offered Don in answer to Valerie’s questioning glance. “Before.”
“You stunned one of Pearl’s goons?” she asked. “Can we get a ride off this rock after this job?”
“No problem,” said Don.
“Technically, we had to stun both of them,” said Nate. “This will only work if Darin and Anelise are back on the clock.”
“Anelise is there.” Valerie tossed a set of cam feeds up on her holo. She had the glow turned down on account of the lunchtime eddy around them, Ganymede’s usual suspects pausing their daily hustle to grab a few calories. Three people outside a villain’s lair peering at a brightly-lit holo was the kind of thing bound to draw attention. They didn’t need that, so the holo was barely visible.
“Tell me again how you know about this place,” said Nate. “This isn’t Pearl’s base. This isn’t even a place he comes to on a daily basis, near as I know. And I know a lot about Cadence.”
“Do you now?” Don examined his nails. “Maybe my moneyed contacts are good for something.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.” Nate didn’t like Don’s evasion this close to starting a ruckus.
“No,” agreed Don.
“Hell.” Nate squared his shoulders. “I’m going to talk to Darin.”
“Before you do, let me try something.” Valerie tapped on her console. “I mean, much as I want to see you have the stuffing beaten out of you again—”
“One damn time.” Nate gritted his teeth. “There were five of them, and it was weeks ago!”
“Be as may, this time my chair’s riding — hah — on the outcome.” Valerie didn’t pay Nate much attention, fingers moving over the console’s keyboard.
“How do you know so much about systems?” Don leaned over her shoulder as she worked.
“You see any Engineers here?” Valerie’s voice was distracted.
“Here outside this shady office, or here on Ganymede?”
“Ganymede,” said Valerie. “Not that the answer will change.”
“Come to think of it, no, not one,” said Don. “Not even a Guild headquarters.”
“There was one, once.” Valerie shook her head. “Doesn’t matter anymore.”
“What happened?” asked Don.
“I said it doesn’t matter. Just because there are zero Engineers doesn’t mean all the reactors and Endless field generators up and left. Someone’s got to look after that stuff.”
“You?” Don looked like he was working out whether he was being played.
“Me,” agreed Valerie, as an alarm sounded from the front of Pearl’s office. Nate ducked his head out, taking in Darin running around like a terrified child, red lights strobing out front. “Piece of cake.”
“Nice.” Nate gave an appreciative nod. “What did you do?”
“There’s a radiation alarm.” Valerie tousled red locks. “Better than a fire alarm as a useful attention-grabber. Do your thing, wonder boy. Only, Nate?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful. Your plan is full of holes.” Valerie shook her head. “I won’t be there to … fall, this time.”
“Right you are.” Nate sauntered out from behind the building’s corner. As he approached Darin, he saw the thug running back and forth, trying to open windows and doors. The fact he hadn’t run for his life with a radiation alarm going off suggested the man was either noble or Pearl held something mighty terrifying over his people. Probably makes sure they’ve all got family they’re scared of losing. Darin wasn’t paying Nate any heed, and to be fair, a skinny teenage kid walking toward you was less terrifying than a radiation leak. Maybe when calories weren’t so scarce Nate could put some mass on to look more imposing, but until then he had wits, speed, and charm. Some people were lucky that way.
“Hey, Darin,” called Nate. The other man ignored him, tugging on an auto door, trying to wrench it open. Nate considered the idiocy of that for a moment. The auto door was an airlock, no doubt stolen from a starship’s hull, designed to keep the hard black at bay. Unlikely a single human, augmented or not, would be able to get it open. Nate sighed, stepped up behind Darin, and rapped the pommel of his blade against the back of the man’s skull.
Darin went down for the second time today.
Nate turned Darin over, patting him down. Keycard, check. A few coins worth keeping. A blaster. It looked like the same one Darin had extorted from Nate a couple months back, so he kept that too. Straightening, he looked right down the barrel of a plasma cannon. Behind the plasma cannon were the hard eyes of Anelise. Behind Anelise, the open door of Pearl’s base. Phase one, complete.
Nate grinned. “Hey.”
“Not today, Chevell.” The alarm still blared behind Anelise, but she didn’t move a centimeter.
“You’re not concerned about the alarm?” said Nate. “Sounds bad.”
“Not really, on account of you standing in front of me. I’ve been on Cadence for a long time, Chevell, and I’ve seen a fair few things that raised my eyebrows.” The plasma cannon didn’t waver. “Once saw a starship punch through a dome. Lost all our air, see? And the air we didn’t lose was on fire. Folk running and screaming. The ship’s reactor lost containment, dropping enough rads to kill everyone. And it did, for those not lucky enough to hav
e meds or a shelter.”
Nate nodded. “This sounds like a real feel-good story.”
“Watch your lip,” suggested Anelise. “Thing about a reactor alarm is no one walks toward it. Universal sign for get the hell away, right?” She sniffed. “And here you are, another gutter rat, but not at all terrified about dying a horrible death, bleeding out your eyeballs. So, I say to myself, ‘Anelise, Chevell is going to steal from you.’”
“Hey, now,” said Nate. “It ain’t like that.”
“Drop the blade,” she said. “And the blaster.”
Nate dropped his street steel, tossing the blaster next to it. “Now what?”
“Now we go see the boss.”
Nate held his smile. Perfect.
Inside the building, cracked off-white ceramic walls stretched ahead. People inside, who Nate labeled ‘Pearl’s thugs,’ were less panicked than Darin. Nate figured that was on account of them working out it was a false alarm, but the flashing red lights and loud noise seemed to be setting a few people’s teeth on edge.
Anelise pushed him forward with the muzzle of her plasma cannon. Nate kept walking. They passed a security booth, guards inside tapping at consoles, trying to get the noise to stop. Nate glimpsed a feed from the exterior cams, nodded to himself, and kept walking.
Things were working out according to plan. Anelise holding a plasma weapon to his back wasn’t a hundred percent to script, but if he kept his wits about him, he might survive the day and get Valerie that new chair.
A door ahead opened to reveal a small room. Inside the room, two goons minted from the same fab stood on either side of a weathered chair. In front of the chair stood Pearlescent Fang. Pearl was a monster of a man, his white suit draped over a massive frame. Nate had heard tell Pearl had been a cage fighter back in the day. While ordering flunkies around wasn’t the same kind of work as had built Pearl’s muscular body, he still looked capable of pulling Nate’s arms off. His head was shaved. Legend said Pearl never smiled, not in all his long years on Cadence. He’d been born with a frown he could interchange for a glower at a moment’s notice.
Ganymede Steel Page 2