“Most people either love it or hate it,” the bartender said.
“Hate it,” Ty said after taking a swallow.
“You’re insane,” Jules commented.
“Yeah, you’ve lost it,” Ember added.
Nick took a sip. Most alcoholic beverages had either an astringent taste or a hot, medicinal quality that he found off-putting. The Dream Elixer was sweet, with just a hint of heat at the back of his throat as he swallowed. The combination was odd, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not.
“Now, the final mainstay of any decent drinking establishment will be Codnam,” the bartender said. “It’s the most popular drink of all the exotic beverages we sell. Codnam is from the Alliandries on Seagram Six in the Quatar system.”
“Isn’t that a water world?” Ember asked.
“You’ve got a scholar here,” the bartender said. “It is indeed a water world. Can’t say I know how they make this little drink.” He poured from a bottle into five shot glasses lined up on the bar. “The good thing is most people can drink multiple bottles of this little beauty without having a hangover. I’ll warn you though: it’s strong. Go ahead, give it a go.”
Nick and his friends all picked up a shot glass, peering at the liquid inside. It was clear and looked like water. Nick took a sniff, expecting a foul bouquet, but the liquid had no odor.
“Start with just a sip,” the bartender said. “It will surprise you.”
Nick put the glass to his lips and took a tiny sip. The liquid was room temperature and had almost no taste at all—just the barest hint of salt.
“I don’t taste anything,” Ty said.
“Yeah, this is just water,” Kal proclaimed.
“Sure it is, kid. Sure,” the bartender said. “Show me what you’re made of.”
Kal took the challenge and threw back the entire shot. He swallowed it down without even making a face.
“See?” he said triumphantly, before losing his balance and nearly falling off the barstool.
“Codnam is popular for getting people hammered,” the bartender said. “The faster you drink it, the more inebriated you become. Remember that while you’re off to exotic worlds along the PTR. Always use caution when trying something new.”
“Is the room spinning?” Kal asked, as he gripped the bar. “I feel like I’m falling.”
“Great,” Nick said. “How long will it last?”
“He’ll be alright if you get some food in him,” the bartender said with a grin, setting some pretzels on the bar. “That’ll get him started. You all can finish your drinks.”
“I’m not sure I want to,” Ember said. “We only have thirteen hours left on leave.”
“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” the bartender said.
Nick took another sip of the Codnam and smiled. The drink made him feel happy and upbeat. Ty and Jules sipped theirs as well, while Ember stuck with Dream Elixer. Once they finished and paid their tab, Nick felt tipsy and anxious to find something to eat.
They left the tavern and stopped at a food vender selling hot dogs. The signage proclaimed that only real meat was used to make the sausages, but Nick suspected there was plenty of soy filler in the casings. Still, he was hungry and the hot dogs were cheap. The food sobered Kal up and they spent a few hours in a club with thumping, sonic-frequency music. Dancing wasn’t something Nick felt he was good at, but he enjoyed acting silly with his friends. There were many other people in the club; most looked like deep-space miners, with pale skin and bad haircuts. Nick and his friends all had the buzzed hair of PMC recruits, but their bodies were in top shape.
“Did you know the Proxy enjoy club music?” Kal asked as they crowded into a booth to catch their breath after spending nearly an hour on the dance floor.
“None of the miners can keep up,” Jules complained.
“The one with long hair is kind of cute,” Ember said with a grin.
They had decided not to drink any more intoxicating beverages, sticking with bottled water instead. Nick looked up to where Kal was discretely pointing and saw a balcony with four Peregrinantes leaning on the railing. Their long fingers were wrapped around mugs of Trangan, and occasionally they lifted their drinks to their narrow mouths.
“I’ve never seen them eat before,” Ty said, having to shout to be heard over the music.
“Me either,” Kal said.
“You think they dance?” Jules asked.
“No,” Nick said. “I get the feeling they just enjoy watching us.”
“We should give them a show,” Ember said with a grin.
Nick had the sudden feeling that perhaps they were being watched. Perhaps the Proxy wanted to see how they would spend their free time. He had nothing to hide, but the thought of being watched all the time made him angry.
“Let’s get out of here,” he suggested.
“Why?” Kal asked.
“I’ll tell you outside.”
They left the club, letting their ears adjust to the silence for a moment. They were on the dark side of the Exchange, where the sun’s light was blocked by towering buildings. Nick could see the appeal of spending the “evening” in the entertainment district. Outside the bubble that protected the space station, he could see Mars glowing red.
“What’s up?” Ember asked.
“Do you get the feeling we’re being watched?” Nick asked.
“By who?” Ty demanded.
“The Proxy,” Nick said. “I can’t say why I feel that way. But I think maybe they gave us time and money just to see what we would do.”
“A test?” Jules asked.
“Oh man, you’re just being paranoid,” Kal said.
“Maybe,” Nick admitted. “But we’ve only been in the PMC for a week and they gave us a lot of money.”
“So what?” Kal said. “We passed their tests and earned that money. Remember?”
“Yeah,” Ty added. “This is just a chance to blow off some steam before we ship out to who-knows-where.”
“The last taste of life on Earth,” Jules said.
“Okay,” Nick said. “Maybe I’m wrong. It’s just a feeling.”
“Let’s go see a show,” Ember said, pointing to a holo-theater.
The group moved across the street toward the building and bought tickets for a show. Just before going inside, Nick looked back and saw four Proxy step out of the front entrance to the club. They were staring straight at him.
Chapter 16
Nick chose not to say anything to his friends. He had no more proof that the group of Proxy were following him than he had in the club. They took seats near the rear of the auditorium, and once the lights dimmed for the previews, the four Proxy appeared. They climbed the steps of the auditorium and sat on the opposite side from Nick and his friends.
The movie was a blockbuster sequel in a franchise of successful films. It was loud, the reclining seats rumbled and moved, and holograms appeared all around the theater as if the spectators were actually in the scene. Nick didn’t pay it much attention. Instead he focused on the four Proxy aliens. They seemed immersed in the story, but Nick caught them glancing his way occasionally. In his mind, they had no reason to look at him despite the fact that there were vivid, hi-res holograms popping up all over the theater, including over his head. The wall to his right transformed into a rolling landscape, and the wall beyond the Proxy was a futuristic city. Explosions erupted all around them, and shrapnel rained down on the audience.
The entertainment district catered to both humans and Proxy. The tall, hairless aliens didn’t employ other races on their trade ships, so humanity knew very little about the worlds and intelligent species beyond the solar system—only what the Proxy wanted them to know. Almost all knowledge of life outside the solar system was based on goods the Proxy were selling, just like the beverages the bartender had prepared for Nick’s friends. And the Proxy themselves were private about their likes and dislikes. He had read once that dealing with the tall aliens was like being in a hi
gh-stakes poker game. They rarely showed emotion, and while they had convinced Earth’s government leaders that their need for humans in the PMC was legitimate, Nick knew that the real reason for the formation of the Space Marines was simply a convenient way to move some of Earth’s burdensome population off-world.
He couldn’t help but wonder why the aliens might be watching them. Perhaps they were simply there to make sure Nick and his friends didn’t get into trouble. The other three members of the recruitment class had taken assignments in divisions other than recon, and their orders were different. Everyone was shipping out soon, but to different places. Maybe the Proxy just wanted the recruits to have a good time without causing trouble or missing their deadline to report back in. Or maybe, Nick considered, it was part of their recon training. One of the main facets of deep recon was observation; they would need to be able to spot anything out of the ordinary. The four Proxy aliens were way out of the ordinary for Nick, but he didn’t know if their presence in the entertainment district was abnormal on the Space Exchange.
He also couldn’t help but wonder if the four aliens had other, less innocent intentions. He felt their presence was a threat, even though he couldn’t say why. Of course, it could have been a result of the alien libations they had sampled. Nick had no way of knowing how the strange drinks might affect them, and he knew that certain drugs created a sense of paranoia.
When the movie ended, there were less than seven hours remaining before they were due back to report in. The group was trying to decide what to do next when the four aliens approached. Nick saw them coming and stepped toward the four towering aliens.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
“Forgive our intrusion,” the closest alien said. His voice sounded metallic through the universal translator he wore. “Do you have a moment?”
“What the hell is this?” Kal said.
“I told you they were following us,” Nick explained.
“We need assistance,” the alien tried to explain.
“We should leave,” Jules said. “Go back to the PMC.”
“Maybe she’s right,” Ty said.
“Please,” the alien held up a hand. “You are warriors, are you not? We stand in need of assistance.”
“So go to the authorities,” Kal said.
“That would be difficult,” the alien said. “Please, let us buy you a drink. We will explain everything.”
“Okay,” Ember said.
Nick whirled around, but she put a hand on his shoulder. “They’re frightened, Nick. They need help.”
“How are we supposed to help them?” Ty asked.
“I don’t know,” Ember replied. “But maybe we can.”
Nick’s heart was pounding and his mouth was dry, but he nodded to Ember and the others.
“We’ll listen,” Nick said. “But we can’t promise to help.”
“Very good,” the alien said. “Thank you. We are in your debt.”
They followed the aliens to a bar on the upper level of a two-story structure. The bottom was a fantasy sim establishment, and the upper floor was a hotel of sorts. It was a dark, quiet bar. No loud music played from hidden speakers, and there were no gaudy decorations on the walls. It had just a long, syntha-wood bar and a row of booths with high-backs for privacy. Even the tall aliens couldn’t see over the tall booth wall. The aliens ordered Trangan, which came in tall mugs with straws for the Proxy customers. Nick and his friends ordered coffee with lots of cream and sugar. They sat quietly, swirling their hot beverages while the aliens talked.
“We are Par’kep, Tu’slat, Wok’lot, and Nur’gal,” the alien explained. “We trade sim dust.”
“Great,” Kal said. “They’re drug dealers.”
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Ty replied quietly.
“Just give them a second,” Ember urged.
Nick was inclined to agree with his friends. There was no way he wanted to get mixed up with drug dealers. Sim dust was a fine powder that caused hallucinations when consumed. It had other uses, but it was mainly a pharmaceutical agent used in the treatment of people with mental disorders. The alien technology had altered physical medicine and tripled human lifespans, but depression and manic behaviors still plagued the people of Earth. Sim dust was used in a variety of treatments.
“We are not criminals,” the alien Nick assumed was Par’kep said. “We have a license to trade. Unfortunately, the deal we established with the Rust Bucket Mining Corp. was not upheld.”
“You made a deal with a company called Rust Bucket?” Kal asked, shaking his head.
“We acted in good faith,” the alien explained.
“And they refused payment?” Ember asked.
“That is correct,” Par’kep said, “from a certain point of view.”
“So why can’t the authorities help?” Jules asked.
“Because...we did not trade for credits,” the alien said. “Our payment was to be in animal embryos. Swine and simian embryos, to be exact, but the samples provided were not viable.”
“What the hell is he talking about?” Kal asked.
“They bartered the sim dust for animal embryos,” Nick said. “The humans gave them embryos that were already dead.”
“Why do you want embryos?” Kal asked.
“Research,” the alien said. “Much of our technology is biological. The human race has traded in living creatures since first contact was made with your race. Embryos are ideal for transport. Millions can be held in small containers and remain frozen until they are needed. But the humans in the Rust Bucket Mining Corporation delivered embryos that are not viable.”
“How do you know?” Ty asked.
“Quality control standards require that we test a variety of samples from the embryos upon completion of the trade. These tests take time.”
“I still don’t see why the authorities aren’t the right people to talk to about this,” Jules said. “If what you’re saying is true, they should recover your sim dust and hold the people responsible to account.”
“Yes, it is as you say,” Par’kep said. “Only these channels take time.”
“Very much time,” one of the other aliens said.
“An investigation would be opened,” Par’kep continued. “Witnesses called in. Proof offered. All the while, our property would be held as evidence. The ordeal would be very costly.”
“So what do you want us to do?” Nick asked.
“Recover the sim dust,” Par’kep said.
“You want us to steal it?” Kal asked.
“It is not stealing. It is our property by right,” Par’kep said.
“Sounds like stealing to me,” Ty said.
“I don’t think we can help you,” Nick said.
“Oh, please. We will pay you. Two hundred and fifty thousand credits,” Par’kep said. “The humans will not refuse you.”
“How do you figure that?” Kal asked.
“Because they trust you. They do not trust us.”
“Still, it’s not like we can just waltz in and take something that doesn’t belong to us,” Kal said.
“We have the documents necessary to hold the goods,” Par’kep said. “The mining company cannot take the sim dust off the Space Exchange without documentation. We held back the documents to check the embryos. They are expecting delivery of the documents. You can pose as inspectors. When the mining officials can’t produce the documents, you can impound our sim dust and deliver it us.”
“These guys are criminals,” Ty said. “If we try to take the drugs, they’ll kill us.”
“No, you do not understand,” Par’kep said. “The humans rely on the prejudice against us. Many officials here do not like the Peregrinantes. They would look the other way rather than hold the humans accountable for their crimes against us. We just need justice.”
“How can we know you’re telling us the truth?” Nick asked.
“Yeah, how do we know you’re not trying to rip off the humans?” Kal dema
nded.
“We have evidence,” Par’kep said as he pulled out a tall cylinder. “These are the embryos. They are not viable.”
“And here is the documentation,” said another alien, holding up a portable display screen.
The screen was flexible and thinner than a piece of paper. The alien set it on the table and Nick could see that it was official trade documentation for five cases of sim dust. There were official markings too. He supposed it could be forged, but the Proxy bartered sim dust for all manner of goods from Earth and the Solar system. They didn’t trade for it.
“So you’re saying that if we show up with this document, they’ll have to give it us,” Nick said.
“Their only recourse would be to call the authorities, who might deny us or place a hold on the goods while an investigation begins,” Par’kep said. “But they will not deny that you hold the documentation for the goods. If you explain what happened, the human authorities will have no choice but to side with you. The miners will surely know this.”
“They’re banking on the fact that no human will help you,” Ember said.
“Precisely,” Par’kep said.
“Because they know that to help would be turning against our own kind,” Ty said, clearly unhappy that we were even considering helping the Proxy.
“We are not asking for you to choose one side over the other,” Par’kep said. “We only want justice.”
“Which you’re willing to pay for,” Kal said. “Isn’t that tilting the odds in your favor?”
“It is a necessary part of doing business,” the alien explained. “We can pay you and get our sim dust back now, wait months for the investigation—which would cost exponentially more—or, worse still, count the trade as a loss. The last two options are unacceptable. We are honest traders.”
“I say we help them,” Ember said.
“What?” Ty asked her. “Why on earth would we do that?”
“Because we aren’t on Earth,” Ember said. “Not anymore.”
“But we aren’t their lap dogs, either,” Ty argued. “We don’t have to do their dirty work.”
“No,” Jules agreed. “We don’t have to do it. But I like to think that if we can help, we should.”
Dragon Team Seven Page 9
