Aurora Blazing

by Jessie Mihalik

  It was going to be a long five hours.

  I managed to stay awake by drinking copious amounts of synthesizer coffee and pacing. The real coffee Ada had given me would’ve been wasted on my tired taste buds, and I didn’t want to leave the flight deck long enough to find it anyway.

  Ian had not shown up and demanded my immediate surrender, so it seemed that he had taken the bait and followed Ada. I hoped she led him on a merry chase before he figured out she wasn’t me.

  I routed Aurora on a direct course to Delta Tucanae Dwarf Four. DTD Four was a known Syndicate stronghold and general information hub. Secrets were traded like commodities, and because of that, it was also a popular mercenary hangout. If Ian really had posted a bounty on me, I would have to be extremely careful.

  I lowered the stealth level enough to allow the ship to request a jump point from the gate. I was twenty-ninth in the queue with an estimated wait time of eight minutes. If my contact on DTD Four came through with information, I’d have to leave my beloved ship behind and start hopping starliners, because the jumps after this one would each require a two-day recharge for the FTL drive—time I didn’t have.

  It was absolutely clear why Rockhurst was willing to go to war to keep fast FTL technology to themselves. It would be a game changer in more ways than one, and the House who controlled the technology would be unstoppable.

  The one-minute warning sounded, and I brought Aurora out of stealth. The engine noise changed as the FTL drive engaged, then DTD Four appeared on the vid screens, shrouded in darkness. A solar day on the planet was long enough to be measured in months of Universal Time. I wouldn’t be seeing sunlight anytime soon.

  I connected to the planet’s network and secured a berth in one of the nicer spaceports in Brava, the main city. A nice spaceport had fences, security checkpoints, and armed guards that patrolled constantly. Cheaper spaceports had none of those and a good chance that your ship would be missing pieces when you returned.

  Many first-timers left their ships at the orbiting station, thinking they would be safer than on the planet. They were wrong. Entire ships had vanished from the station without a trace.

  While I was on the network, I checked the news. There was no news of a bounty on me, so either Ian had been making idle threats—unlikely—or he still thought he could persuade me to return. When he caught up to Ada he was going to go ballistic. I would worry for her, but she’d spent two years looking out for herself. Plus, with both Rhys and Loch with her, she had plenty of extra protection.

  Aurora descended smoothly through the atmosphere. The ride got a little choppier as we neared the hangar. Rain lashed the outside cameras, dropping visibility to mere meters. Luckily, the ship’s sensors were well equipped to deal with inclement weather and Aurora landed gently on the assigned launch pad.

  This spaceport could hold a dozen ships spread out in two rows of six. Based on the limited view from the outside cameras, about half of the pads were occupied with ships of varying quality. A couple of newer ships meant Aurora wouldn’t stand out too much, but some extra protection wouldn’t be a bad idea.

  Before I could arrange that, however, I had to change clothes. Not only had I been wearing these for two days, but my blouse, slacks, and heels were wildly inappropriate for Brava.

  I kept spare clothes and boots onboard, simple clothes in sturdy materials that made me look more like a merc and less like the daughter of a High House. In Brava, it was far better to be unremarkable.

  The captain’s quarters on Aurora included a sitting room, a bedroom with a bathroom en suite, and a study. The sitting room was painted a bright, happy cyan, while the bedroom and study were done in soothing shades of pale green and blue, respectively.

  My closet was stocked with pants and shirts in darker colors. I selected a pair of black pants and a crimson shirt. A heavy pair of boots with thick soles completed the outfit. They wouldn’t give me as much height as my heels, but they were far more practical.

  I slung a holster around my waist and added a blast pistol on my right hip and a combat knife on my left. The knife was not likely to save me if it came down to that, but in Brava it was better to be prepared for everything. I still wore the shielding cuff I’d put on for my meeting with Evelyn. That meeting felt like a lifetime ago.

  I packed extra clothes and toiletries in a small backpack. I could stay on Aurora, but if Ian posted a bounty on me, then the mercenaries would tag my ship within a few hours. It was safer to find a shabby hotel that accepted anonymous credits and didn’t ask questions.

  I debated taking the silencer. It would help if the signals become overwhelming, but none of my other identities had permission to carry one. If I got caught with it, I would have to prove I was Bianca von Hasenberg or face an automatic ten-year sentence. Normally, proving my identity wasn’t a big deal, but I was trying to stay under the radar, so I left it in my purse.

  I pulled on the backpack and added the final piece of my wardrobe, a waterproof hooded cloak that covered me from head to toe. It would protect against the rain and help to disguise my identity.

  I put several hard credit chips into separate internal pouches to protect them from pickpockets, then headed to the cargo bay to look through the supplies Ada had brought for me.

  The four pallets were stacked high with individual crates. I removed the straps and pulled the crates free. Each crate had a neat electronic label indicating the contents. It was a far more organized system than Ada normally used, so I bet Veronica or Rhys had helped.

  Ada really had outdone herself. She’d gotten everything I requested plus a bunch of useful stuff I hadn’t. I grabbed an extra com and a few trackers and bugs. I considered the blast rifle but decided it would be a little too conspicuous, even with the cloak over it. There was a fine line between being armed enough to not be an easy target and being so heavily armed that you obviously carried something valuable.

  I checked the outside cameras with my smart glasses. The weather remained terrible, but it was unlikely to change any time soon, so I’d have to deal with it. I closed the front of my cloak and raised the hood. I set an alert to scan the news for any mention of my name. With nothing left to do, I opened the cargo door and stepped into the rainy, midmorning dark.

  I tightened the ties on my hood as the wind tried to rip it away. Rain pounded down, overwhelming the hydrophobic coating on the glasses. Water was supposed to slide right off the lenses, but the rain was coming down hard enough that it looked like I was peering through a waterfall.

  The cold, wet air smelled of thunderstorms and industrial chemicals. This spaceport was on the edge of the city’s ore-processing facilities and other factory complexes. The proximity to the factories was one of the reasons this spaceport was safer than most; company travelers paid well and regularly, but only if their ships remained in one piece.

  The wireless signals were moderate in this part of the city. I listened in for a few seconds and didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. I zeroed in on the spaceport’s signal and heard someone say they were going to check on the new arrival.

  A minute later, a security guard emerged from the gloom while I was double-checking Aurora’s security protections. The guard wore a full set of combat armor bearing the spaceport’s name and logo. When he saw he had my attention, he touched his fingers to his helmet. “Ms. White,” he said, his voice tinny through the helmet’s speaker, “we have you registered for two weeks.”

  “Yes. This ship means a great deal to me. I would appreciate it if you kept an extra-close eye on it,” I said. I slipped him a credit chip with a thousand credits on it. “I’ll double that upon my return to an intact ship.”

  The chip vanished into a pouch on his belt, and he inclined his head in agreement. He faded back into the darkness. I was still monitoring the wireless signals, and I heard him report that my ship was to receive extra protection.

  Ship as safe as I could make it, I let the signal monitoring go before my headache turned blindin
g. I headed for the exit. A series of large, illuminated signs warned that the spaceport was no longer responsible for your safety once you left the premises. They meant it, too. Spaceport personnel might take a potshot at a mugger if they were in range and you’d paid extra protection money, but even that much effort wasn’t guaranteed.

  The lack of security made ground exits a little dicey. Company representatives were advised to contact their business and wait for an armed transport before exiting.

  The hulking, brown-haired armed guard working the exit building raised an eyebrow when my head only came up to his chin. “Have you called a transport?” he asked.

  “Not yet.”

  Surprise and concern lit his face when he realized I was a woman. “You’re not going to try to walk, are you? You armed?”

  “No and yes,” I assured him. “This is not my first visit,” I said with more confidence than I actually felt. I used my smart glasses to order a transport. I wasn’t stupid enough to try to walk anywhere near the spaceport, even in what passed for morning here.

  “If you need a clean place to stay, hit up Jade’s. It’s in the flower district.”

  “Thanks.” Recommendations in Brava always came with a grain of salt. Likely the person recommending either got some sort of kickback or was sending you into a trap. The flower district was one of the nicest parts of this city, which wasn’t saying a whole lot, but it was less likely to be an outright trap. My contact, Peter Guskov, had his storefront on the edge of the district.

  I tracked the transport’s progress on my smart glasses. The landing pad was on the roof. When it was thirty seconds out, I drew my blaster and kept it visible. I shouldn’t need it on the roof, but one never knew for sure.

  At the top of the straight staircase, the transport exit consisted of two doors, like an airlock. The outside door wouldn’t open unless the inside door was closed and locked. I stepped through the first door and let it close behind me. The lock slammed home. The second door release button glowed green.

  The transport settled outside. The roof was lit with floodlights that fought against the dark and rain. Nothing moved. I pushed the door release and the door slid open.

  I moved for the transport, staying alert. No one attacked and I breathed a sigh of relief when the transport door locked closed behind me. I searched for Jade’s and found it near the middle of the flower district. It was close enough to Guskov’s shop that it would probably be safe to walk as long as I was careful.

  I selected the address and the transport lifted off. I sighed and leaned my head back against the seat. I was cold and damp, despite the cloak. Welcome to Brava. Ada would have a heart attack when she learned where I was.

  The transport stayed fairly close to the ground because most of the buildings were stone and not more than three or four stories tall. The wind made the ride a little bumpier than I’d like, but I arrived in one piece.

  Jade’s was a small hotel on the corner of one of the main streets and a narrow alley. A bright sign decorated by a carved jade dragon indicated the hotel had vacancies.

  I exited the transport and hurried to the door. A bell tinkled overhead when I pulled it open. I stepped into a small but clean lobby. The main desk was off to the left and a couple of chairs on the right clustered around a lit fireplace.

  A petite woman with long, straight black hair bustled out of the back room. She smiled at me. “You must be Ms. White,” she said. “I am Jade, the owner. Gunther will be pleased that you arrived safely.”

  So this recommendation was a kickback and not a trap. Probably.

  I stomped a few times to knock off the worst of the rain before I dripped all over the dry floor. When I was reasonably dry, I lowered my hood. “Does Gunther work at the spaceport? About this tall?” I asked, holding my hand twenty centimeters over my head.

  Her smile grew wider. “Yes, that’s my Gunther. He looks fierce but he’s a big teddy bear.”

  I’d have to take her word for it. Gunther looked as if he could pull arms off people without breaking a sweat. “He said you have rooms available?”

  “Yes. One hundred credits a night, with a two-night deposit. Breakfast is included.” She showed no sign of recognizing me as Lady von Hasenberg.

  “I’d like to prepay for a week,” I said.

  She didn’t even blink. “Checkout on the seventh day?” she confirmed.

  Because solar days and nights lasted months, most Brava residents were used to thinking in Universal Standard Time. So a day was just twenty-four hours, regardless of whether it was dark or light.

  “Yes, please.” I hopefully wouldn’t be here that long, but Peter Guskov moved at his own pace. If he thought I was trying to rush him, he’d let me cool my heels for a few days just because he could.

  Jade held out a chip reader. “Scan here, please.”

  “I’d prefer to pay with hard credits.”

  That got me a raised eyebrow, but she didn’t protest. She entered the amount on the reader then handed it to me. I inserted a credit chip with a moderate amount of credits. The reader shouldn’t report the total available credits back to the vendor, but some vendors were shadier than others.

  Jade took the machine back after I removed my credit chip. She handed me an old-fashioned keycard. The fact that she had them handy told me I wasn’t the first person to stay here who was reluctant to scan my identity chip. “Your room is on the fourth floor. The lift is out of order; are the stairs going to be a problem? Do you need help with your luggage?” She peeked around the desk, looking for my bags.

  “No, thank you, the stairs are fine. I can manage my backpack.”

  “Breakfast is from six to nine in the dining room.” She gestured to a door behind me. “And the stairs are farther down that hall on the right.”

  I thanked her and headed for the stairs.

  Chapter 9

  As a young woman, my self-defense tutor had kept me in excellent physical condition, something that I’d taken a bit for granted. After Gregory modified my nanos, I hadn’t felt well enough to keep exercising. I’d recently started going to the gym again, but I was nowhere near my normal fitness level, and I felt the four flights of stairs.

  I let myself into the room I’d be calling home for the next few days, assuming I could hack it. My head was already lightly throbbing. Tonight would be the first night I voluntarily slept in an unshielded room in four years—since Gregory had first modified my nanos.

  I’d nearly died before he’d conceded and deigned to shield my bedroom. I didn’t remember much of those early days but apparently I’d gone into seizures any time I was exposed to the minimal amount of signals around our House.

  For the first six months after the injection, I’d been too sick to continue working remotely for House von Hasenberg, which had caused Father to start asking questions. I think that, more than anything else, is what changed Gregory’s mind. He didn’t want Father to steal his research before it was finished.

  After my body had begun to adapt, Gregory would occasionally lock me in unshielded rooms to see how I would react. I’d been too weak to fight back, both physically and emotionally. The shame of that failure still burned in my chest.

  I shook myself out of my thoughts and glanced around. The room included a small bed, a nightstand with a lamp, a narrow wardrobe, and a window overlooking the alley. It was sparse but clean. Even the tiny attached bathroom had been scrubbed to a sparkling shine. I made a mental note to thank Gunther for the recommendation if I saw him again.

  Rain ran down the window, blocking most of the view, but there was no fire escape outside, so I didn’t have to worry about midnight visitors. I used my com to search for bugs or trackers in the room. The search came back empty, which was surprising enough that I ran it again, with the same result.

  With no extra eyes on the room, or at least none that I could detect, I carefully hid a few of my credit chips in various nonobvious locations. If I got mugged, I didn’t want the assailants to have
access to all of my hard credits at once. I stashed my backpack in the wardrobe but kept a couple of the trackers and bugs in my pockets. I also kept my weapons and the second com. Walking out unarmed in Brava was just asking for trouble.

  I checked on directions to Peter Guskov’s shop. He wouldn’t actually be there, nothing was ever quite so easy, but I needed to make initial contact in order to set up the real meeting. The shop was a kilometer away on foot, but with the horrible weather, I went ahead and ordered a transport. It was an extravagance that a normal Brava citizen wouldn’t have purchased, but Guskov already knew I wasn’t a normal Brava citizen.

  Going down the stairs was far easier than climbing them. Jade was nowhere to be seen, but my transport waited outside. I pulled up my cloak’s hood and stepped out into the downpour. It was nearly noon, yet it remained pitch black. I couldn’t live on this planet in the dark for months at a time. Continuous sunlight wouldn’t be much better, either.

  I entered the address and the transport lifted off. The trip took less than five minutes, but I remained mostly dry and entirely unmugged, so I decided it was a worthwhile expense.

  The transport landed outside a shop window filled with various odds and ends. Expensive antiques sat beside cheap plastech knockoffs. One mannequin sported an evening gown, while another was dressed in head-to-toe combat gear.

  I pulled on my public persona. Peter Guskov was very particular. He had a process and it required a great deal of patience, especially when the information you wanted was time sensitive. I could not afford to lose my cool.

  An armed security guard opened the door for me. “You break, you buy. You steal, I break,” he said, his meaning clear even with his heavy accent. “No cloak.”

  I shed my cloak and hung it in the provided space. “I expect that to be there when I return,” I said.