“I do not believe she would object, and Wrik, I am never ashamed for anyone to know that I love you.”
This time I put both arms around her. “I love you too.”
“Good. Now we must turn our efforts to regaining the station’s interior. I need to replenish myself.”
“We’re in the industrial section,” I said, struggling to my feet with her help. The soreness in my ribs and rawness in my throat were receding thanks to whatever medicine Maauro had injected me with. I looked back at the wrecked environmental suit and marveled at my own survival, but for now I needed to focus on getting us back into the station and doing something for Maauro.
It took Maauro a few minutes of study to breach the inner door, during which I watched the spider bug that I’d used to hack in the loop on the surveillance camera. It still glowed green, showing that it had power and that no security program had targeted it. Soon Maauro leaned back in satisfaction and the door gaped open. I leaned in to see the corridor empty in both directions. We entered quickly, Maauro lugging the remains of envirosuit, which she ditched it in a utility locker. The spider robot leapt from the wall onto Maauro’s shoulder. She pressed it against her body and it disappeared into her.
I followed Maauro as she moved purposefully down the hall, grabbing up my duffel bag as we went.
“I accessed a general schematic of the station when breaking into the station airlock,” she said. “This station was designed to be operated by both oxygen-breathers and Ribisans, so there is access to the power plant. Both sides have such different needs that it required separate industrial sections. I should find at least some of what I need here.”
We walked down a hallway, then down two levels on a circular staircase. I was surprised that other than a general soreness and rawness in my throat, I was none the worse for my exposure to Cimer’s atmosphere. Chalk up doctor as another of Maauro’s skills.
We spotted two Ribisans in power suits on some errand and ducked into a side hall until they disappeared down the companionway. A group of human technicians in green uniforms made us backtrack and take a passage on the level below.
Finally we entered a control room by an elevated walkway. On the floor below, some human technicians and a Morok were engaged in a heated debate about something. We couldn’t hear them, but there was a lot of arm waving going on. We passed through the room into a section of heavy machinery, power conduits and an industrial conveyor.
Maauro set to work on one conduit, prying off an access panel. She stuck her original right arm in and a brief arc flared before she made the connection. She settled on her haunches with what I could have sworn was a sigh of contentment.
After a few moments she looked up. “I needed to find a power source large enough to replenish me and not show a measurable loss that would attract attention. This will buy me some time and enough power for a disguise.”
“Is it enough?”
“Yes, if we are not interrupted for fifteen minutes.” As she spoke, her normal skintight gray-and-red jumpsuit morphed into the looser-fitting, green overalls the Tir-a-Mar crew wore. “Watch the door.”
I nodded and moved to keep watch as the minutes dragged slowly by, but luck seemed to have returned to us as no one entered the control or process rooms. Thank God for automation. Eventually I heard the sound of Maauro reattaching the access panel. We slipped out of the area and back into the main hallway.
“I accessed a subroutine of a maintenance AI,” Maauro said. “I have to be far more careful than usual as the computers and cyber systems on this floating city are far above standard. Still, I was able to locate a cache of rare metals and exotic radioactives two levels down in the central core area. It is guarded. I must admit I have no plan for getting past the guard. While I can easily overcome him, it will cause an alert.”
I considered. “I’m here on a surprise inspection. We can cover my recent disappearance with the ruse that I decided to slip out to conduct inspections without oversight. What could be more natural then inspecting the most dangerous materials aboard?”
“With me as your unwilling and drafted local guide? Yes, very sensible. Let me see what repairs I can make to your uniform while you wash up in the bathroom across the corridor.”
I gave her my shirt, which was truly worse for the wear, and ducked into the room she indicated. I gulped cold water for my abused throat and washed the last of Cimer’s atmosphere off me. I still looked rough, but not like I’d spent part of the day mostly dead. When I got back Maauro had repaired my shirt and was extruding the laundered material from her midsection. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Open an airlock door when I am frozen solid,” she replied. “Perhaps now you will accept that I rely on you as much as you rely on me. For all the difference in our strength, again, it was you who saved me.”
I smiled at her. “Perhaps.” I changed back into my uniform jacket, disposing of my civvy one in a nearby recycler along with the duffle bag. I sat the Confed military cap squarely on my head and belted on my laser.
We ceased skulking and walked down the corridors and slidewalks as if we belonged there. We attracted some attention from passing crew, but not more than Maauro, with her big eyes, normally did on when we were out and about at home. My uniform seemed to attract a mixture of looks: some merely curious, some seemed afraid, others hostile. But no one stopped us.
We rounded the curve to face a guard station.
“I don’t care about authorizations,” I said loudly to Maauro. “All the authorization I need is on my collar. We’re inspecting this area. Now.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied meekly.
The guard stood, eyeing me warily. He was a human mutation of a type I was unfamiliar with. His brown skin was either tattooed or naturally striped. Like Maauro, his eyes were larger than a standard humans’ below prominent brow ridges.
“This area is off limits,” he rumbled.
“Not to a Confed officer on a snap inspection,” I stated, walking forward with an assurance I didn’t feel.
“I’ll accompany the officer,” Maauro said. “It’s my job, I guess. Not sure how I got so lucky. I mean I was just standing downstairs and he points and says, “Hey you—”
“I’ll have to call it in,” the guard interrupted what he clearly felt was going to be a long story.
“Go ahead, but make it quick, or you’re going on my report as obstructing a Confed officer,” I added.
The guard relayed my demand to someone. I could dimly hear someone replying over his com. “So that’s where he went off to!” said the voice. “All right, let him in, but can you keep an eye on him?”
I shook my head.
“There’s one of our techs with him, sir,” the visibly relieved guard said. “I was going to leave it to her.”
“All right,” the voice, which sounded like Fenster, also sounded reluctant. “Report afterward.”
The guard sat back down and gestured for us to proceed.
We went in through a series of thick, powered doors that Maauro opened as if she did it every day, dropping them behind us. Inside lay a storage room filled with waldoes, their mechanical arms hanging from the ceilings, armored glass panels and storage bins.
Maauro looked back at the door we‘d come through; which held a small glass panel. “Be sure the guard doesn’t peek in on us. I have blinded the sensors in here.”
She moved quickly to examine the bins and then began working some waldoes. “Excellent, these are high quality radioactives and exotic metals,” she reached into the containers and pulled out bars of refined metal, placing them against her chest to be promptly absorbed. Life with Maauro was always something of a scavenger hunt.
“Wrik,” Maauro called, excitement in her voice. “There are materials here that I have not seen since I was last maintained by a Creator team. I can process some of these into repl
acement material for my body. Not enough for an entirely new arm, but I will be much more sound then I have been in 50,000 years.”
“Maauro, that’s excellent.”
“One can see why the Ribisans are so prized as chemical and metallurgical engineers. They are not the equals of the Creators, but they show great promise.”
“Pity they are trying to kill us.”
“It will be dangerous for you to be present when I open some of these containers.”
“I’ll step out and wait at the guard post.” I hit the panel on the door and waited as it rolled back. The guard looked up as I walked back to his station.
“Everything in order?”
“Yeah. The tech is finishing up before we continue my tour. I’m glad I found her. She’s pretty easy-going.”
He grunted. “Cute, isn’t she? Looks a bit young though.”
“You have to like a big-eyed girl,” I said opting for congeniality.
The guard grinned. “I prefer them with big breasts. Maybe she has an older sister?”
“I’ll ask.”
“Has she been here long? Can’t say I’ve seen her around.”
I twitched slightly. “Don’t know. I just got here. These floating cities are pretty big.” Over our private link I sent, “Maauro, the guard is getting curious about you.”
“Acknowledged, I have uploaded a false history to his screen.”
“Check your comp,” I suggested to the guard.
He idly flicked up a query on his screen. “Yeah, Estrella Lostly, human mutant like me. Came in on the last trading vessel. God, that must have sucked, traveling on a Ribisan ship.”
“This is a Ribisan station,” I said.
“Yeah, but this was built as a trade station for 02 breathers. Ribisan ships have some small accommodations for our kind, but not much.”
“Still,” he said, stretching, “the gasbags have it best here. Sometimes they freefall off the station to the deeps, where they have their other facilities. A shuttle brings them back up here.”
“No other cities below?”
“So they say, but you could drop sixty Earth-type planets in Cimer before filling it up. Who can say what’s in the deep below? This is a relatively new colony for the Ribisans, only about fifty years old.”
Maauro returned from the radioactive bunker to rescue me from the garrulous guard. Perhaps it was just my overwrought imagination, but she seemed to have a pink glow of health. On her chest a nametag now read, “Lostly.”
“He wants to know if you have an older sister,” I said, slightly giddy at our success so far.
Maauro looked at the guard. “They would be very much older than I am and, to be frank, rather large and—”
The guard smiled. “I get the picture.”
“Shall we continue with your inspection, Lieutenant?” Maauro said, turning to me.
“By all means,” I replied.
Chapter Eleven
Maauro and I finished my “inspection” of the power plant as soon as we could and returned to the street level.
“What do we do now?” I asked, looking around wearily at the streets and buildings that made up the interior of the floating city.
“We must return you to your hotel,” Maauro said. “In the morning we must conspire to find a way to attach Estrella Lostly to Lt. Fels for the duration.”
“Let’s get to the hotel first, but I think I can handle that one. I’ve already made it clear that I’m not going to be handled or minded while I am here. What would be more natural then that I select my own guide?”
I looked at the street and approached a panel set in a crosswalk, dialing for a cab. “No more sneaking about for now. I’m damn near out on my feet.”
“I agree.”
The ride back to the Star and Comet was long, reminding me of how huge the floating city was. But the cab delivered us back to the street of the hotel. The city was in early morning mode; only a few people were wandering about, though there were robocleaners and other automatics working. We exited the cab and moved to the tower of glass and metal. Automatics opened the doors and we slipped in.
But we were expected. McCaffer, the PR guy, stood in the lobby, looking worse for wear due to the early hour.
“Let me handle this.” I said.
“Lt. Fels,” he began, his facial expression belied the friendly tone.
“Mr. McCaffer. You’ve had some excitement tonight.”
“Yes, there was an explosion. It seems a maintenance conduit had a power overload. Then, of course, there was the matter of your disappearing.”
“I believe I explained that my investigations would be conducted at times and place of my choosing and without surveillance or handlers.”
“Yes, but surely some notice of your excursions is warranted. How can we account for your safety?”
“I’m pretty good at watching out for myself.” I said, then quickly mindsent to Maauro. “Complain about how you were just minding your business when I grabbed you.”
Aloud I said. “I’m on a fact-finding mission. Facts show up at the damndest times.”
“Yes,” Maauro piped in, “but did they have to show up at the end of my shift? I was minding my own business—”
“Now, Lostly,” I said, with my best smile, “didn’t I offer to make it up to you with the finest dinner to be had on Tir-a-Mar?”
“You did,” she replied. “I intend to hold you to it, considering the trouble you’ve landed me in.”
“If you need a guide,” McCaffer said exasperated, “we have many highly-trained people—”
“Thanks, I prefer to pick my own guide. She knows the station but she wasn’t here when Dr. Malich and his staff were, so she has no reason to be less the forthcoming around me.”
“Lieutenant,” McCaffer said, “no one here has any reason to be less than forthcoming with you.”
“Then there should be no objection to her.”
He sighed theatrically. “I take it that you don’t mind if we talk to our employee?”
“I’ll be in the bar,” I said.
McCaffer comes over to me. The professional affability that he showed with Wrik has snapped off. He has a portacomp in his hand and its holoscreen unfolds to a foot square. On it I see Estrella Lostly’s file.
“Estrella Lostly,” he reads aloud, “age twenty standards, unmarried, general services electrical and mechanical tech. You came aboard with the last freighter.”
“Yes, sir,” I reply feigning meekness. “Sir, this isn’t my fault. I was just repairing a flux damper on an AG subassembly when the Confed officer walks up to me and showed me his credentials—”
“Why didn’t you call in?”
“He said not to,” I said, raising my hands. “I didn’t want to be arrested.” I judge it a good time to raise the pitch of my voice and twist my face slightly. My analysis indicates that the typical reaction of an older male to an upset young female will be to back off.
“Now, now,” McCaffer said, raising a hand to my shoulder. “It’s ok. I understand.”
“And we did see the security guard by the radioactive center.” I add.
“Yes, yes. Quite correct. You did the best you could. Now calm down. You’re not in trouble. In fact, this may work out for the best.”
“Sir?” I question.
“Do you like the Lieutenant?”
“Sure,” I reply with what I hope appears to be girlish enthusiasm. “He’s kind of good-looking and the captain of his own starship. He did promise me a fine dinner out.”
“Hmmn,” McCaffer said. “Well, watch your step. I think he has his heart set more on breakfast. But you say he’s been nice to you?”
“Yes, very.”
McCaffer looked a little disquieted. “Okay. Stay here, please.”
He
walked out of earshot for a normal human. I could have hacked his com but my hearing was more than sufficient to allow me to listen to his conversation.
“Ms. Fenster. Yes, McCaffer here. I’ve found the Lieutenant. He seems to have settled on a young tech he met by chance as a guide. You know he’s refused everyone else we’ve proposed.
“No, she’s recent. Wasn’t here. Yes, she’s young and cute. I suspect he’s more interested in her than in anything she knows. It might be a good distraction. She doesn’t know anyone or anything.”
“OK, I’ll arrange it.”
I quickly relay the conversation to Wrik.
“Refuse at first,” he answers. “Make them order you to be my guide. Don’t worry, they will. They’ll offer money, promotion, other benefits.”
“Commerce?”
“Yes, Maauro, commerce.”
McCaffer returned to me. “I’ve spoken to the mayor. He would like you to serve as the lieutenant’s guide while he is here. Take him where wants to go, to whom he wants to see.”
“Sir, I mean I like him and all, but my section chief—”
“Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll send an order though channels transferring you to my staff for the duration of his visit.”
“Well, I was really just interested in a dinner date.”
“Whatever you do or don’t do with him is up to you, but we need a guide and to be frank, a set of eyes on him. You’ll be paid time and a half.”
“Ask for double time,” Wrik whispers in my mind, “and since it’s a twenty-four a day job to be paid that way.”
I relay this to McCaffer, who grimaces. “Yes. Provided I get regular reports from you on his activities.”
“They really want you with me,” Wrik says.
“I’ll try,” I say to McCaffer, “but he’s so suspicious of everyone. He keeps looking over his shoulder and checking with some portacomp he carries for bugs surveillance devices, intruder software—”
“Does he? Good to know”
He taps his portacomp. “Give me your portable and I will load my private code on it.
Against That Time Page 11
