by Kate Kyle
"Hey, SingMa, are you there?"
"I am," the reply came in. She relaxed her chest. "Was just… thinking. I've heard the name. Where physically are you?"
"Rainbow's End."
"Wait for me at the counter."
SingMa's game name darkened. Jax logged out, too.
She approached the bar.
Leprechaun watched her walk, until she was a few steps away from the counter.
"Anything to drink?" he asked her, rolling the 'r' again.
"No, thanks," she replied automatically. But her tongue felt thick in her dry mouth, with queasiness growing at the back of her stomach–the effects from the anesthetics and the procedure, no doubt.
"I'll have Cleanser water," another male voice, with a slight Indian accent replied. Jax's eyes darted to check the direction.
A disembodied head popped into the only spot of light in the vicinity. Jax blinked and readjusted her eyes.
Of course, the dark-skinned, buzz-cut head was attached to a body. It was just the play of light and shadows and dark clothing.
"SingMa," the man said and pointed at the seat next to him. "I recommend a glass of Cleanser," he added. "It helps you think."
"No drugs in it?" she asked.
"Just a mix of herbs and spices, native to Segedunum, all legal, of course," Leprechaun cut in and grinned.
"Genetically engineered, of course, from our local ingredients," SingMa added.
She had to show some sign of being friendly and open, too. Plus, her mouth and her stomach would do with some fluids, too.
"Okay, I'll try it," she replied and sat on the indicated stool.
SingMa waited for Leprechaun to serve them the drinks before he even looked at her again.
He grabbed his glass, took a sip and looked at her.
"So, what did she do to you, this Ms. Zhou?" SingMa asked once he'd swallowed the mouthful.
Jax followed the social convention and reached for her drink, too.
"As I said, she's stole my tablet, and with it all I've got."
He glared at her.
"What?" she asked, shifting uncomfortably on the bar stool. She hated bar stools.
"I find that hard to believe."
"Which part?"
He took another sip, this time staring into his glass.
Jax's mouth suddenly felt like a piece of typical ship food: dry and rough. She reached for her glass and took a mouthful.
It was cold, with a hit of mint, lemon and something else she failed to identify.
Her tongue soaked it in immediately.
It was quite pleasant, actually. The queasiness settled a little.
"Okay, I believe that you may be stupid or suspicious enough to keep all your possessions on one device," SingMa said eventually. "What I have difficulty accepting is your accusation that Professor Li stole anything from anyone. And the fact she's here. The Chinese government would never let her leave their jurisdiction."
Jax pressed her lips together to prevent her jaw from dropping.
Uh-ha, she'd got someone with more knowledge than she'd ever expected. Or even wanted.
Normally, she'd be on the highest paranoid alert at this point. She’d be guarding her intelligence as though it was the last drop of purified, fortified water on the ship. But this time… it felt different. Was it down to the fact that she was in Rebels' Republic? Or was it her usual transactional approach to the relationship of 'what you give is what you get'? Or maybe it was her desperation to resolve the issue at hand?
Irrelevant.
Jax felt strongly that sharing her info with SingMa was the only way she had to reach her goal.
"She probably escaped or maybe was kidnapped. She's here, and Si-Carb Inc. is treating her as a priority passenger. She might have a problem with her implants, but I doubt it," Jax said, observing her questioner.
"You're a pilot, right?"
"Yeah." Jax gave him the name of the ship, their initial departure date and the trip's purpose.
SingMa listened, nodding in silence.
"And you don't know why she's here?" he asked when she'd finished.
"Not a blinking clue. You?" she asked. "You seem to know a lot about her."
SingMa blew out his cheeks.
"Wish I knew more," he said. "I'm a coder, part of a team working on machine learning."
"Like her before this ridiculous shift to insects?"
She'd never realized that the info from Rutger would come in useful so soon.
“Yeah, but she's probably half an order of magnitude, if not better than I am. I'm wondering why she's here."
"So are we." Jax took another sip of the refreshing beverage.
"Who's we?"
"A… another passenger, who's helping me find her. But he's now missing too. Now, I owe him money, because of the theft, by the way," she added hoping this would convey the complexity of the situation and encourage the man to help her.
"I don't think money matters to her. What else, beside money and your game gear did your device carry?"
"Game and piloting credentials."
This was as much as Jax was willing to disclose. Even her unexpected willingness to share had its limits.
"This is what she might be after. Not the game though, I doubt it. Do you have the coordinates for your device? Or anything else I could use to track her?"
Jax's heart made a tiny flip. Was there hope?
"Does it mean you accept the job?"
"Tracking. I need to know if it's even doable," he said, his face furrowing.
"Sure. My device can be traced, as long as it's powered up."
"Let's hope she turns it on at some point," he said. "And let's hope that this strange virus doesn't damage everything before we find her.
He pushed the sleeve of his top off his wrist.
"What's your device ID?" he asked.
Jax forced herself not to stare at the intricate maze inked on SingMa's forearm - no doubt one of the RR's famous body surface implanted interfaces.
She gave him the data, which he dictated into the tattoo on his forearm.
"Is this how they track you all as well?" she asked, pointing at the implant.
"Yes."
"That's an invasion of privacy."
"You can turn it off, if you want, but you need to provide a good reason."
"Invasion of privacy, I'd say. Has no one noticed?"
He stared at her, eyebrows raised.
"Sure. We're not stupid. We just don't… value privacy as much as we value all the other benefits of these devices and what they enable us to do."
"If you say so," she said and shrugged.
Yeah, so the stories about the residents of the RR being strange were true…
"Okay, so we have a quest, in real life," he said, draining his drink. "I'll set up a tracker and let you know. How do I get hold of you?"
"Since I don't have any mobile communication device I'll be at the port. TransNeptunian Sleeper Service."
"With the network glitches, I'll try to send you a message via the radio. Failing that, I'll come and find you."
He got up, ready to leave.
"What about the payment?" she asked, anxiously.
"I want you to work with me on this quest."
"That's hardly a payment."
"Let me rephrase it then," he said. "I want you to be part of the search party, okay?"
She didn't like it. That sounded too much like a joint quest. A task that required teamwork.
"I'm crap at teamwork," she said. "You can probably see that from my game record."
He nodded.
"Never mind. Remember what I said about needing a pilot?"
Her shoulders tensed. She wasn't very good at reading between the lines or operating in gray areas.
"I do, what about it?"
"My nose tells me we may need your skills," he said, touching his long, narrow nose.
He strolled out of the café.
13
R
utger
Rutger was on his third tour of the area, when he finally saw Jax approaching.
Where the hell had she gone? He'd been worried about her ever since the bot at the reception in the Life preservation department told him that she'd self-discharged against medical advice.
How irresponsible!
"Hey, you, reckless young person," he yelled once she was within the earshot. "So, you are alive. Where have you been?"
"Hey, you old control freak, that's none of your business," she shouted back.
She could have omitted the age reference. Not that it hurt him, anyway.
Not too much. He watched her approach the ship.
"Just worried about you," he said, once she was closer. "How are you?"
"Okay," she replied, heading for the bridge to the airlock.
He followed.
"Where have you been?" he repeated. "You should have been resting."
She shrugged. "Been places."
Okay, so she needed space, but he needed someone to bounce ideas off. And share with.
"I've got interesting stuff to share. I've seen Lulu," he said.
Jax seemed more solitary than most people he had ever met. Maybe she'd be more inclined to work with him if he reminded her that she had a stake in his mission.
"Did you?" she asked glancing at him over her shoulder. "Whereabouts?"
"The clinic. Where you were supposed to wait for me."
"No, it was you who was supposed to wait for me."
Fair enough, but…
"You left earlier than expected."
"You weren't there anyway."
The airlock's external door closed behind them.
Rutger stepped forward. He wanted to see Jax's face.
"Did it even matter to you?" he asked, staring her straight into the eyes.
She let out a breath.
"Sorry, I was too engrossed in my own stuff."
The inner door opened. She moved forward. He strode up to her, catching a breath. The air smelled of wet dust and leaves rotting on the floor of an old forest. No doubt, the influence of the local air recycling system.
Her long legs were moving very fast for someone who'd had a surgical intervention only a couple of hours earlier.
"Well, thank you for your honesty. You stood me up," he said catching up with her.
"Hey, I've said I'm sorry. You're not my… dad, or uncle, or even a friend," she fired back.
"No, but under the circumstances, you should consider me at least as an ally."
"Why should I?"
"Because I'm keen to help you find the person you're looking for."
She stopped by the door to the elevator.
"And what do you want for it?" she asked, punching the call panel.
Rutger carefully considered his answer. Of course, the most natural answer would be to shout back a snappy reply, but something had clearly changed in Jax.
Might be related to the procedure? Even though Jax hadn't lost the baby, there was an element of loss in the operation.
Maybe she was simply grieving?
Possible, but he couldn't assume anything.
The door dilated with a soft hiss, they stepped inside the elevator.
"I see you're a bit prickly, Captain. What's the matter?"
Jax's face was stone-still, except for the tip of her nose twitching.
"I've just been forced into accepting someone else's help," Jax said suddenly as the elevator came to a stop and the door slid open.
Rutger stopped himself from whistling.
"And that's a tragedy, I see," he said as neutrally as possible.
"For me, yes!" she snapped. "I hate being indebted to anyone."
They reached the cockpit level and the door swooshed open again.
"That I already know. But why do you see it as debt?" he asked, stepping out. She didn't reply.
They marched towards the flight deck, side by side, the heavy soles of their boots thumping on the plexifoam faux rubber of the flooring.
"Because it is."
"Have you thought that I might just have my own reasons for wanting to help you?"
"Do you? Name one?"
"An old man wanting to help a young, attractive woman?" he said casually and braced for more fire.
She inhaled loudly.
"You?" she said, stopping, her arms akimbo, glaring at him. "You. Are. Telling. Me. That. You Expect. Some. Sort of payment—" she shouted putting emphasis on every word. Her face took on a darker hue. Her eyes bulged. In fury, no doubt.
Rutger crossed his arms.
"No," he said simply. "I just wanted to clear that, too. I'm going to tell you, but you have to swear to keep it to yourself."
They reached the flight console. Jax swung her pilot seat and plopped into it.
"All ears," she said.
"I need this conversation to be top secure," he said, sitting in the chair he came to think of as 'his'.
She swiveled in her seat.
"Comms are still down, and so is the ship's computer system. I'm now muting all radio transmissions," she said and tapped at her control panel. "Happy?"
He nodded and leant forward in the seat.
"I think Lulu Zhou is associated with the Red Balloon thing," he said quietly.
The Seekers called it 'the red Balloon Mystery', but Rutger thought Jax would just laugh at the name.
She stared at him; her eyebrows lifted exaggeratedly.
"No idea what the Red Balloon thing is," she said. "And let me get that straight, I'm working very hard here not to laugh, okay? That's a silly name, by the way. But let's say I can agree it's something important and serious, my response is 'And so what?'"
Yeah, fair points.
"Red Balloon is my attempt to name the issue. Sorry, I haven't come up with anything better than that. But it's that image of the girl with the balloon that we've both seen. I think it's a virus, or a likely virus that caused your ship's comms and computer to shut down, and now is trying to take over the city's network."
"And what does it have to do with you?"
He clasped his hands. He had prepared for this moment on his way back to the port.
"Remember when I said we all have secrets?"
"Yeah, your secret faulty implants mission."
"That's right, but I also have another task."
She cocked an eyebrow.
"Really? A double agent, are you?"
"No. I only work for one side."
"Which is?"
"I've told you about the Seekers. Our sources reported first sightings of the image a few months back. Around the same time as the problems with the implants."
"You think the two incidents are related?"
"Might be just a coincidence. Correlation doesn't imply causation."
"And so?"
"And so, I'm here to investigate the implants, because many Earthians are aware of the problem and are demanding explanations. And at the same time, I'm keeping my eyes open for anything to do with the suspected virus."
"Is the said virus also discussed on Earth?"
"No. And that's part of our concerns, the reasons why this was even raised. The reports of first sightings came from an automated explorer placed just out of the Asteroid Belt. That was about six months ago. The computer sent a photo of the logo, nothing else. Initially, the image was released to a group of space specialists, including those looking for alien contact. But then, someone else found another image. This one was slightly different but still similar enough to make the connection. The second image was sent from another source located in roughly the same area in the Belt. This happened to be the area where a few months earlier a suspicious incident took place."
"Suspicious incident?"
"Yes. Didn't you hear about it?" he asked and then corrected himself. "You probably didn't. It was quickly hushed-up. An armed PanAm scout unit, out in the Belt spotted a previously unknown object moving at a steady velocity in close proximity to Jupiter Troja
ns."
"That's actually out of the Belt area. Isn't it inside the Rebels' claimed space?"
"No. They stopped trying to claim it as a result of the negotiations some fifty years ago and focused on Neptune and Trans-Neptunian space. But since the object's trajectory suggested that it might have originated in Kuiper Belt or might have been launched by Rebels, the captain of the scout ship contacted Segedunum Space Watch Outpost HQ. They claimed that although they'd spotted it too, they judged it to be a harmless piece of rock, travelling through space, not on collision course with any known stationary human-owned object."
"Live and let live," Jax commented.
"That's their attitude."
"What did the PanAm scout ship do?"
"This is where it gets interesting," he said, picking up the story. "The ship claimed that the object emitted something that looked like a message, so they issued a burst of greeting and request to identify itself."
"To a piece of rock?" Jax's eyebrows were clearly conveying her amusement.
"Sounds funny, but then why not. It doesn't hurt trying."
"No, as long as you don't shoot, it doesn't. Unless they did shoot…" she added, watching him carefully.
He leant forward in his chair.
"Let's not jump the guns, if I may say so," he said.
She didn't miss the opportunity.
"I don't think that's the correct expression for what you're trying to say but point taken and attempt at a pun noted." She smiled.
He smiled back. Despite all her prickliness and reluctance to adopt any sort of teamwork, he was beginning to like her.
"So back to the PanAm scout ship sending a greeting card to a stone rolling past Jupiter," he said. "The said piece of rock apparently sent something again and it looked like a signature similar to that of a Chinese explorer ship."
Jax snorted, which was what he expected her to do.
"Now, your story is getting ridiculous," she said. "I know you think all people on the west side of the Atlantic are stupid, but don't tell me that a captain of an PanAm spacecraft can't tell a flying rock from a flying ship."
He tensed.
"First, I don't hold such beliefs about your compatriots," he fired back. "Second, the crux of this story relies on the very point in case. Of course, there are heat signatures and drive signatures and let alone what can be seen on the space scanners. But then, there are ways to hide them, too."
