“It’s a big risk,” Kal said. “We could get held up for hours by the authorities. I doubt Sergeant Gomez would understand if we didn’t ship out because we were helping these guys.”
Nick looked at his data-link. They had four hours until they needed to ship out. The practical part of him didn’t want anything to do with the aliens. There was no need to risk their lives or their careers in the PMC for what amounted to two months’ salary. On the other hand, he hated not helping someone who had been cheated. It had never occurred to him that human prejudice might hurt the Proxy. In his mind, they held all the cards with their superior technology and trading monopoly. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling that these aliens were sincere.
“Why us?” Nick asked. “You’ve been watching us for hours.”
“You are PMC, are you not?” Par’kep asked, getting nods from Nick and his friends. “Of all the recruits we have seen this day, you are the only ones who stayed together. You did not lose control of yourselves with drink or in fantasy sim parlors. We watched you to see if you could be trusted. We believe you can.”
“I’ll do it,” Ember said to Nick.
“Yeah,” Jules said. “I’m in if you are.”
Nick looked at Kal, who just raised his shoulders. Ty was shaking his head.
“So the three of us will do it,” Nick said, speaking to Kal. “You and Ty can back us up.”
“And the money will go into savings,” Ember said. “For Elysium.”
“Sure,” Nick said.
“I’m game,” Jules added.
“If things don’t go well,” Kal insisted. “Then we drop it and head straight back to the PMC.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Nick said. “That’s our first priority. You with us, Ty?”
“You know I am,” Ty said. “I don’t have to like it, though.”
“Alright,” Nick said to Par’kep. “We’ll do it. Show us where the Rust Bucket Mining Corporation is located. We’ll try to get your sim dust back.”
“Oh, thank you,” the alien said. They were all nodding their heads and making a cooing sound like a flock of doves. “We are honored by your valor and integrity.”
“Let’s get it over with,” Ty said. “This place is giving me the creeps.”
“Yeah, it looks like a pay-by-the-hour kind of establishment,” Kal said. “I wouldn’t want to catch anything from hanging out here too long.”
They got to their feet, and the Proxy paid for their drinks with a swipe of some type of banking card. Then they left the building. The Proxy led them to a building on the far side of the complex, what Nick supposed was the human side. He was beginning to see why the Proxy felt they couldn’t get justice there. He took the cylinder of embryos and the documentation for the sim dust. The Rust Bucket Mining Corporation was located in a short, ugly building with narrow windows.
“You guys stay out here,” Nick said to Ty and Kal. “We’ll go in. Jules can stay by the door. If things get ugly, she’ll call for you.”
“What if they have weapons?” Ty said.
“If we need the authorities, Jules will alert the Proxy,” Nick said, turning to the tall alien. “If she yells for you, that means we’re in trouble. Get the authorities here pronto.”
“Yes,” Par’kep said. “We will do our part.”
“Okay,” Nick said, starting for the ugly building. “Time for some fun.”
Chapter 17
Nick was surprised to see the cases of sim dust just sitting on the floor. They had pushed opened the door and gone into the building that housed the offices of the Rust Bucket Mining Company with no problems. No one had asked about their business. The term “office” was laughable; Nick saw one ancient-looking computer terminal, and the rest of the space was cluttered with mining gear and dirty clothes. There were even some cots in a cluster in the back of the building.
“Looks more like a hangout spot than a business office,” Ember said.
“I don’t see anyone,” Jules added.
“There’s the sim dust,” Ember went on. “Maybe we should just take it?”
Nick was about to respond when a burly man appeared from a bathroom near the jumble of cots. He looked up at Nick, Ember, and Jules suspiciously.
“What do you want?” he grumbled in a deep voice.
“We need to speak to whoever’s in charge,” Nick said, as fear began to tighten his gut as if there were a rope around his abdomen.
“I’m in charge,” the man said. “This is a human business. The PMC ain’t got no authority here.”
Nick hesitated for a moment. He had forgotten that he was wearing fatigues, and with their haircuts, they looked like Space Marines. He wasn’t acting on the authority of the Peregrinantes Military Corps, but he didn’t mind if the big man thought he was.
“Stay by the door,” Nick told Jules.
He and Ember walked across the messy floor of the building. The floor was stained concrete, and while the building had been built for a second floor, it hadn’t been installed. The ceiling was open to the insulation and support girders. Nick could see the heating and cooling ducts as well as electrical conduits. Lights hung from wires, and the ceiling was painted black, giving the interior of the building a gloomy, cave-like feeling.
“We’re here because you traded in bad faith,” Nick said.
“What the hell are you talking about?” the man snarled. “I did no such thing.”
“You mean to say that you didn’t trade the Peregrinantes unviable embryos for those crates of sim dust?” Ember asked.
“No, I wouldn’t do that,” the man said. He was only a few paces away from Nick and Ember by that point, his big hand flexing at his sides. Nick could see the anger on his face and he suddenly wished that Kal and Ty were with them.
“The Peregrinantes say differently.”
“I don’t give a damn what those eggheads say,” the miner grumbled. “If they can’t take care of things on their end, it doesn’t mean I have to take a loss.”
“So you admit you made the trade?” Nick asked.
“I ain’t admitting nothing,” the man grumbled.
Nick slowly withdrew the canister of embryos. It was cold to the touch, and the digital display on the top showed the interior was holding steady at fifteen degrees Fahrenheit.
“Are these the embryos you traded?” Nick asked.
“How should I know? The eggheads could’a done anything with ’em.”
“They say your embryos are unviable, and they would like their sim dust returned,” Ember said.
“Ain’t gonna happen, sweetheart. We had a deal.”
“You didn’t hold up your end of the deal,” Nick said. “We’ve come to get the dust.”
“Like hell you will,” the man said, stepping forward menacingly.
“Nick knew things were slipping out of control. He didn’t want to fight the man, and he didn’t want to involve the authorities. Part of him wanted to make a break for it—simply leave and tell the aliens that they’re on their own. Yet he also hated backing down.
“The way I see it,” Nick said. “We have two choices. Either you give us the sim dust and we give you the embryos, or we call the authorities.”
“You think the security force will side with those bald bastards?” the miner smirked. “You may have turned against your own people, kid, but I can guarantee you the security force hasn’t.”
“We have the documentation for the sim dust,” Ember said. “We’re laying claim to it.”
“You’re full of it,” he snarled.
Nick tossed the can to the man, who caught it in the air. At the same time, Ember pulled out the paper display.
“Your call,” Nick said.
“How about I just kick your ass and toss you out in the street?” the miner threatened.
Nick was frightened. The miner was at least a hundred pounds heavier than he was. If the man wanted to fight, chances are he would win. The last thing Nick wanted was to
show up back at the PMC with soiled fatigues and injuries he couldn’t explain.
“We have an entire unit just outside,” Ember said. “You think we’re stupid?”
The miner hesitated, and a look of uncertainty crossed his face. He looked at the door, where Jules had pushed it open and was standing in the sunlight.
“There’s no need for trouble,” Nick said.
“Sure, just rob me, why don’t you?” the miner said. “I made a fair trade with those Proxy scum. They can’t back out now. Those embryos were good.”
“That’s not what they say,” Nick said.
“Who cares what they say? They can say anything. They’ve got an army to back up their lies.”
“No one is trying to take advantage of you,” Ember said. “Take the embryos. Get your money back for them. It’s better than getting everything tied up in a judicial trial.”
“Better for who?” the miner said angrily. “I got twenty miners in the Belt depending on that sim dust. It’s the only relief they get from the constant cold and solitude. They risk their lives out there, you know. And you’re taking it from them.”
“We’re just doing what’s right,” Nick said.
“Is that what they tell you? That turning against your own kind is the right thing to do? You’ve been brainwashed, kid.”
The miner started to turn away but then whirled back around suddenly. Nick ducked purely on instinct. The miner’s haymaker punch hit nothing but air. Nick drove his fist into the miner’s groin. The big man staggered back and bent over almost double.
“Let’s get out of here,” Ember said, grabbing Nick’s arm.
The miner screamed in rage and rushed toward them. Nick pushed Ember away and jumped toward the enraged man. They collided hard, but Nick managed to keep his feet while the miner fell. He was still holding his groin and gasping for breath.
“What’s going on?” Kal said from the doorway.
“Get the sim dust,” Nick called to them. “And lets get out of here.”
The miner didn’t get up. Nick watched him closely as the others carried the crates out of the office building.
“You’re a traitor,” the miner spat.
“Better a traitor than a common criminal,” Nick replied.
“They steal from us all the time,” the man panted. “Been doing it for centuries. It isn’t fair. Now they got you fighting for them. Wake up, kid. That ain’t no kind of life.”
“We’re good, Nick,” Kal shouted from the doorway.
Nick wasn’t sure what to say to the man, so he just left as the miner started to get back to his feet. Once he was outside, he helped carry the crates through the space station. The Proxy were happy to have their chemicals back and raved about the bravery of the PMC. Nick was only half-listening—the other half of his mind was pondering what the miner had said: Was he a traitor? Were they working for the enemy?
All his life he had heard rumors about the Proxy: everything from the aliens being duplicitous in their dealings to using mind control to get whatever they wanted. Most people on Earth despised the Proxy, but Nick had to admit that most didn’t know the aliens. Until he joined the PMC, he’d never even seen one except in vids or holomovies. On the other hand, he had spent thirteen years in government-mandated education and even worked for weeks in the private sector. The miner could claim the Proxy were stealing from humans, but Nick and his friends had worked twelve hours a day in difficult conditions only to see the government, the union, and the corporations take most of their pay.
Perhaps the Proxy weren’t completely honest, he decided. He couldn’t really say one way or another. Perhaps they would send him out into dangerous situations without ever really expecting him to survive—but at least they weren’t taking money out of his pocket. And Nick’s experience so far had been very positive regarding the way he was treated by the Peregrinantes. He decided that he was still okay with his decision to join the PMC.
“You okay?” Kal asked him once they had transported the sim dust to a cargo depot for the Proxy and been given a credit chip worth two hundred and fifty thousand credits.
“Yeah, sure,” Nick said.
“That big lump didn’t hurt you?” Ty asked.
“I’ll be sore, but I’ll live,” Nick said.
“I can’t believe he got back to his feet after you hit him so hard,” Ember said with a giggle.
“You should have called us in sooner,” Ty said.
“I was trying to talk the man down,” Nick said. “I didn’t want to fight him.”
“Well, I’d say the better man won,” Kal proclaimed.
“We’ve got just enough time to stop by the PBX before reporting in,” Jules said.
“Not bad for our first time out,” Ember said. “We had fun and made some extra money.”
“Do you guys think we made the right decision in joining the recon division?” Nick asked.
“Right or wrong, it’s too late to change our minds,” Kal said.
“Every division has its drawbacks,” Ember said. “At least we got to choose what we wanted.”
“And we’re together,” Jules said. “We can watch each other’s backs.”
“I mean, are we doing the right thing fighting for the Proxy?” Nick asked.
“They pay,” Ty said. “That’s good enough for me.”
“Hey,” Ember said, wrapping an arm around Nick’s shoulder. “That miner was just angry because he got caught trying to rip those aliens off.”
“What’d he say?” Kal asked.
“That we’re traitors,” Nick said. “That the Proxy have been stealing from humans since the beginning.”
“Sounds like sour grapes if you ask me,” Jules said, holding up the credit chip. “They paid us good money.”
“Yeah, man,” Kal said. “Don’t let that loser get you down. We did the right thing. I’m sure of it.”
Nick felt confident in his decision. It was the right thing for him and his friends. But the seeds of doubt had been planted in his mind: perhaps the Proxy weren’t what they claimed to be. He couldn’t know for sure. All he could do was his duty and watch out for his friends—and that was more than enough.
Chapter 18
It felt strange being shuffled through the Proxy side of the station. On their side of the bubble, a long docking arm stretched out into space. Huge interstellar ships were moored to the arm, and Nick followed a sour-faced corporal down toward a ship that would take them to the Delphi system for recon training. The corridor was austere—just a metal decking and bulkheads, which were lined with connection nozzles and safety equipment. It had none of the lavishness of the Exchange.
“Man, this place is very utilitarian,” Kal said.
“Makes you wonder what the ships will be like,” Jules said.
“Can’t be worse than the ULU,” Ty said, trying to stay positive.
They had been met by an administration staff sergeant who checked them into the PMC system and downloaded their orders to their data-link cuffs before ordering the corporal to escort them to the trade ship headed for the Delphi system.
When they finally reached an airlock, it was tall and narrow. The gates were locked open, and Nick could see into the ship. The corporal waved them through the airlock.
“Just show someone your data-links,” he said in a bored voice. “They’ll know what to do with you.”
“Man, aren’t you glad you didn’t go with logistics?” Kal said quietly to Nick. “Five years of dreary work might just kill you.”
“And I suppose fighting aliens won’t?” Nick said.
“Well, at least you’ll have a fighting chance,” Ember said. “You held your own against the miner.”
“Just barely,” Nick said.
They went through the airlock and found themselves in a cargo hold. There were crates neatly stacked and held in place with powerful electromagnets. Each crate was clearly marked; there were cargos of normal things that Nick recognized, from hemp fiber to pall
adium bars, but much of the cargo was completely foreign to Nick and his friends. They were met inside by a tall alien with a crane-control device hanging around his long, arching neck.
“We’re new recruits for PMC Recon,” Nick said, holding out his arm so that the data-link on his wrist was visible. Their orders were clear to see, but the alien didn’t have a translator and Nick didn’t think the creature could read English. Still, it waved its long, delicate hand for them to follow.
The trade ship seemed just as utilitarian as the docking arm. The floors were metal, the ceiling lined with the crane mechanism used to move the cargo around. There were large numbers painted on the walls, which were otherwise bare. The hatch from the cargo bay into the interior of the ship was thick metal with a large locking wheel. But once they stepped through the hatch, they found a much more pleasant environment. The floors were covered in a substance that aided grip but felt soft under their boots. The walls were a bright yellow color, and the lighting was bright and cheerful. The alien led them to a large room and Nick saw humans inside. Most were in PMC fatigues.
“Thank you,” Jules told the alien, who bowed slightly, then left them.
“He was a real Chatty Cathy,” Kal said.
“He couldn’t speak our language,” Ember scolded him.
Nick stepped through the doorway and was met by a stern-faced man with master sergeant stripes on his shoulder. He looked at the newcomers with a look that made Nick worry that they had done something wrong. Nick snapped to attention and the others quickly followed suit.
“New recruits,” the master sergeant said. “Why am I not surprised?”
“We’re here for transport to Delphi,” Nick said.
“I can read, recruit. Your link is clearly visible,” he grumbled. “We’re two days out from Delphi. I want the five of you to stay in your barracks except for meal times. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Master Sergeant,” they said in unison.
“I mean it. This may be a layover for the five of you, but this is our operating post, and I don’t need a bunch of wide-eyed simpletons gumming up the works. You stay out of our way. You’ll be fine in your barracks for two days. If you can’t handle that, recon will chew you up and spit you out.”
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